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getoswhore · 2 years

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‘ EVEN BEST FRIENDS HAVE SECRETS! , suguru getō.

𖦹 — featuring . . . perv! getō x f! bimbo! reader

# % !! synopsis . . . est. 2.0k wc + trying hard to study and be just like your older brother, it gets quite difficult, but a close sorcerer is always more than happy to help an idiotic girl...

# % !! warnings . . . sws + dub con (?), secert sex, risky public sex, cunnlingus (getō eats it from the back), age gap (reader is early 20’s, getō is mid 30's), mentions of breeding, creampie, heavy manipulation, squirting, spanking x1, pet names, reader calls getō master getō, praising.

+ request . . . “girl anything you write about geto is golden, but like him catchin feelings for satoru’s younger sister. ♡ the plot is all yours to mess around with, i just love the idea!” — @ella-simps !! >.<

the old, worn pages are cold between your fingers as you flip them idly, draining the information out the written text and etching it into your nimble brain the best you could with clicking time...

“hey.”

the focused and deep furrowed gape you stare at now rises — startled at the sudden voice creeping up behind you, even feeling a barred hand crawl against your back with a flat palm, tickling at the nape of your neck.

head craning over quickly, your tired eyes peer up to the voice, matching it to the loving face you know and adored, “oh! hey, suguru.” your lips curl softly, trying hard to wipe away the dry and tiredness marinating in your features.

“that book is full of shit by the way. it doesn't even cover all of the true meanings of curses.” suguru taps at the hard, ridden cover with his knuckles.

“oh... really?” your head drops back down, frowning and flicking at the corner of the pages, seeing how far you've already go into this book, and now hearing getō, your higher up, say that this is practically lies — a book without philosophy, without a sense of the real world or true meaning of curses, just futile words on a page, a useless time to waste...

huh.

“yeah,” his hand pats at your shoulder gently, almost reassuring you as he wonders mindlessly towards the shelves of worn spines of banquet books, scanning them with ill intent, “only people who dealt with curses can truly explain what they are.” suguru says in a voice not as amiable as before — almost ominous...

luring even.

“... well, i know you're an amazing sorcerer who's dealt with plenty of curses, so can you teach me then, master getō?!—”

“absolutely not. you're too young to have that type of information rotting in your brain.” he scowls, brown hues not even focused on you but you can feel the poisonous farce he glares with at the shameful books he evidently doesn't accept cluttering around you.

“please... sugu?”

shortening his name now? cute...

the tips of his fingers skim down the spine of a book, “it can make you lose some sleep, plus i know gojo wouldn't want you learning this yet, i know him — a brother would want to easily teach his younger sister, not his friend.” his back turns towards you, thinking he might just be frowning upon the old books, yet only if you're foolish self knew he was trying hard to hide that rising smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

your chair squeaks across the tiled floor as you rise up quickly with a pout, arms crossed and ready to sulk yourself towards him, “i promise i wont tell, please?” you trudge yourself close to his side, peering up at him with doe eyes and a gentle frown.

it's working, just as he thought — got you hooked and intrigued, ready to do anything to learn the ugly truth...

such a stupid girl.

“i don't know...” getō doesn't spare you a second, continuing to read the spines of books.

“at least tell me one thing! just one, please?”

oh, you looked so pretty pouting — practically begging with doe eyes futtering up to him.

“curses can breed with humans.”

what..?

his eyes shift down to you, beady and brown with hues of swirling greys putting on an earnest gaze.

“they'll ease themselves into someone, most commonly, non sorcerers — ‘cause they know they won't feel a thing, knowing some could even end up pregnant without understanding truly by what.” getō watches your eyes shake, almost disgust marinating your features and simmering with frustration.

he sucks the cold air through his teeth, “i mean, curses can breed with anyone, but they do tend to enjoy the innocent most.” his held tilts softly to the right, his hand reaching to brush the index of his finger along your jaw.

“so, make sure to keep an eye out.”

“what?! what do you mean?!” your eyes bat wildly, frantic and confused — and unconsciously leaning in closer to him; feeling that security and safety to be in his aura, like a small child would when their disturbed, running to their most loved and closest protector...

you hadn't even noticed — nerves shocked and worry overbarring your franzic mind, and he took this to his advantage; twinning mezily hands around your sides and tugging you harder into his broad chest.

“yeah... and there's only one way to keep them far...” getō’s tongue flicks out, slicking his lips, “to already be claimed.” he watches your face mush into disarray, ready to do anything to keep those filthy curses away from you.

“how... how so? how do i—”

“we can seal a protection together with just a few things to complete it, nothing too much.”

he sounds... eager..?

you lean in.

“the first step is just a simple kiss.”

simple? a kiss? a simple kiss?

your brother's best friend is asking... to kiss you...

“don't look at me like that, it's just a kiss, nothing more? unless you wish to become pregnant by some thing.” getō reels you back in, using those threatening terms to flee you back against him.

“ok, ok... just promise me you won't tell gojo—”

“trust me, angel. i won't...” getō scoffs before curling forward; a gentle hand soothing its way up your side and cupping the fat of your cheek as he puckers his lips against yours, smearing a hard wet press.

your tummy coils — barely grasping onto the fact that you're kissing your higher up... your brother's best friend...

his hands feel smooth across your skin; feeling lithe fingers play along the curvature of your back, and tracking the discs of your spine before clipping around your waist. and the kiss only presses in harder as getō rocks his body into yours till your back is crushing against the uneven, wooden bookshelves. he's moving quick, lips splitting for a second, feeling hot air catch between you two before sealing it again; a dribble of caught saliva adding to the taste, feeling warmth and sudden elation rising at your core.

but... he said one kiss? right?

maybe he's just trying to make sure, extra percussion... right?

you hope... feeling foreign guilt begin to bubble at your tummy when his boot kicks against your heel; booting them to spread your legs open and shift his body between them.

“g—... g-getō... getō—”

“shh, shhh, that's just step one. there are a few more things to do to seal it.” getō’s loose bangs frizz off to the side, his face beating with a kiss of soft pink, “don't worry, doll face, i know what ‘m doing.” he tastes you against his buds, tasting that sweet pop of cherry lip gloss you always pour onto your pretty lips...

you nod with wracked hands — a cute pink set gojo just bought you, settle against his heaving abdomen.

“what else is there?”

“turn around ‘n i’ll show you...” his hands guide you, twirling you around till your hands clipped atop the shelves — pretty eyes peering over and only catching glimpse of an empty room with cluttered books...

a lick of goosebumps rises along your spine, feeling tepid lips nip at the nape of your neck and sleazy, barred hands squeezing at the flush skin of your hips.

“next is preparing for a claim.” getō’s thumbs idly play around the frill of your skirt, toying with the hem and ruffling it up your perk ass; your eyes peel back wide, teeth catching your bottom lip at the cold air licking across your supple skin.

getō’s eyes ogle at the clear view of your cute ass all jiggly and round — a view he's been fantasizing over for years... now finally in his gaze, his hold; cruel hands kneading and groping at each cheek before spreading them, watching carefully how your back arches into a soft bow as his clipped nails dig crescents into your sensitive skin.

“are you... are you sure about this getō?” only a crack of a whisper spills from between chattering teeth.

“do you not trust your own higher-up?” getō sighs with a lazy thumb playing idly at the pretty pink string of your panties.

“... of course i do! i just never heard of a protection seal like this before—”

“because you're still learning, dear.”

he's right... and you perk your ass up, wiggling on your tippy toes and letting the sauntering man tug at your panties to the side.

getō can feel his mouth water, almost drooling and he doesn't hesitate to drop to his knees at level to your pretty cunt; gazing at the fat of your lips glistening with a slippery mess of your slick clinging between them, practically drooling...

his cock twitches, feeling himself throb hard in his tethered confines — aching with a bulging need to tent up.

“so perfect...” eyes squeezing shut, you feel a long and wet, broad stroke of his tongue slicking from your clit and dragging upwards to your pretty little weeping entrance. laying a flat, slippery tongue, getō spits out a wad of drool, letting it dribble between your folds and spill onto his tongue before poking a nuzzling, pointed nose into the crack of your ass.

your knees almost buckle, turning them inwards with crossed eyes and ridden knuckles scratching against the shelves...

getō prods the point of his tongue and teases it along your cunt, lapping and tasting every slick web you gush out — his glossy lips smack before delving a needy wet muscle between your folds, and curling it deep into your aching pussy; feeling how his tongue flicks against your gummy walls and slip past your heated core. and his hands keep a cruel grip around the soft mounds of your ass, keeping them spread nice and wide to nuzzle his face in deeper — to keep his slick tongue pushed into your cunt, fucking you with his warm muscle in need and in feral intent to lap along your walls.

he can feel you twich in his hold; your thighs trembling at each lick he strides against your pussy makes you whimper out. and it makes him wreck with a sleazy smirk.

so cute, he thinks, but so stupid.

a firm hand claps hard against the perk of your ass, feeling the ringing contact sizzle a warm tingle against your skin in burning heat; firm and cruel with digits tugging into the soft flesh and molding it into his hold... getō keeps you in place as he leans back up with a wet, sticky mouth glistening beneath the sheer lights of the room, and a hard cock pressing against his buckle — almost popping as he groans out,

“just one more step, sweetheart. you're doing so well, so proud of you, angel.” his voice is soft against the shell of your ear, kissing along the lobe with eager hands looping his belt from its ties.

your mouth hangs loosely, only pants and soft moans spew through... still trying hard to wrap your thoughts around this — this is still a protection seal, right?

“now it's time to close in the seal, claim it and make it known.” hearing metal clasp and leather chit against fabric, his baggy pants fall loosely around his ankles; crumpled lazily in the prior rush to expose himself to you — his heavy cock bobbing out and twitching up against his tummy; flush tip pearling with a sticky pre and beating a blossom pink.

“getō!—” he's quick to clap his hands around your mouth knowing you'll yelp out at the sudden and invading fill; forcing a deep arch to bow in your back as he reels your head backwards at the sharp pull to your mouth and stuffs his cock impossibly deep into your cunt.

muffled moans slipping past through the small cracks of his fingers, your heart strums with an ache, feeling it pulse and throb in sync at each barreling thrust he plummets into you with — feeling him quickly set a cruel rythen with haste movements and longing greed. and it makes his pretty earthy eyes to flutter, almost rolling back, unlike yours, already knocking to the back of your skull in growing elation.

“shh, shh, i know, i know...” getō groans through gritted teeth, trying hard to keep the skin-to-skin echoing in the library at minimal, but the tight feel your pussy wraps around his length makes it difficult — forcing his hips to rock harder into yours; watching your perk ass bounce against his pelvis at each cruel, tingling contact too, even salivating at the wet gush your pussy drools with when he slips his tip back in...

he keeps his palms flat against your mumbling and babbling mouth; arms stretched out and keeping you quite the best he could, but the way getō bucks his hips forwards and curves his cock just right to hit deep into your cunt makes you set loose into a boggling gaze — throat bobbing and scratching with wanton mewls.

a rough wave of pleasure shook at your core; the raw rutting inside you was sheer ravenous as getō pushed into you to the hilt. and in a moment of weakness, your hands scramble for purchase but fall pliant against old books, almost ripping and tearing at the sheets of dusted paper for a safe haven, feeling your gummy walls flutter and slick with your mess.

“cumming f’me princess?” he shudders, feeling your pussy squeeze and milk around his cock; a pretty translucent, milky ring barring around his length and globbing up as lube eases himself with a ridden pace.

knees almost sinking in, you feel your sticky mess drool down your thighs before dripping to the carpet in a clear puddle...

“good girl... feel too good f’you huh?” like auditory caramel, and the delicious control in his voice makes your chest sink in with heaving, shaken breaths.

not acknowledging the very harsh grip around your mouth and jaw — that is sure to blossom with bruises, you only cloud into a drooling frenzy, elation stirring to the very core of your tummy, and letting out inaudible sounds of bliss as getō used your little hole like a glorified sleeve. and soon his pace grew to a brutish and unrestrained tempo; his hips stuttering into a blur as he barreled his hefty length into your weeping cunt in every cruel motion.

‘now it's time to seal it, little one...’ he thinks deeply, almost chuckling at your stupidity for falling for such a stupid act, but it worked, and it lead him to feel his balls tighten, and a eager cock to twitch with a needed knot to pop...

the crude sloshing and belches of fluids slicking acted as a fine undertone for the drastic moans threatening to spill through and echo into the little library as getō pumped his cock into you, bucking in hard with a cruel and last thrust; forcefully and clapping his hips against your backside for a final time. running through throes of passion with such intensity, you felt his cock twitch and pump with a sticky mess to spurt out deep into your cunt; warm and sticky cum fills you up, feeling it settle and paint your walls with a milky spunk.

you both shudder, wrecked and sweaty.

getō moans deep, a guttural sigh bobbing at his throat as he slowly slips out; relishing the sticky feel of your cunt trying to swallow him back in.

“there angel... you're all safe now, no lousy little curse is gonna touch you.” he sighs, trying hard to keep the rotten act as he frees you from he barred hold. and you gasp, sucking in air as your eyes fall to the puddle that molds into a crusted mess in the carpet below you...

you nod, breathless — speechless.

“t-thank... thank you master getō...” you sputter out, knobbly legs trying hard to keep straight.

and as getō stuffs himself back into his confines with a sleazy smile resting at his lips, the wooden door of the library swings open.

“yo.”

gojo.

satoru gojo, your brother, was standing right there in front of you both.

thankfully, a rickety bookshelf was between you all, covering your dignity and mess...

“satoru! just in time, was just teaching your sister about curses.” getō cleared his throat and pats at your ass before walking around the shelf with hands in the air to greet him.

“getō, c’mon! i said i was gonna take her out and show her some real curses, not just talk about them — that's boring.” gojo steps in, but his nose whiffs in the air.

“y/n? what’re doin’? looks like you just ran a marathon — getō, must've been teaching you about that brutal curse sukuna, huh? made me break a sweat too.” gojo scoffs jokingly, but his brow raises over at you, only for getō to shove himself in his way,

“yeah, she couldn't even get through it all without breaking down, clearly she's not ready to even see real curses yet, gojo.” his smile is large and cocky as you try hard to gulp down a breath of air...

# % !! tags . . . @sparklingtragedy , @kenmasbimbo , @atsumeii , @sacvh , @luvbladez , @dukina , @rynfushiguro14 , @sauza , @getosbunny , @imvivian , @getou2001 , @carrixx , @sinfuldxlight , @depressio-milkshake , @bimbokutos, @groovyauras , @edens-pen , @diaphanoso , @suget , @sanjithesimp , @geniusso , @whosniya !! >.<

#💌.jjk masterlist #💌.suguru getō #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto smut #geto x reader #geto x you #geto x y/n #getou smut #jjk x reader #gojo x y/n #tw age difference #gojo x reader #tw dub con #jjk smut #geto smut

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sexydoffyman · 9 months

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i saw ur yandere ghost, soap konig thingie i’m begging for part 2. i’m on my knees begging u

FIGHTING OVER YOU P2

navigation

p1 p2 p3

genre: romance?

characters: Ghost, Soap, König

A/N: NAH CUZ YALL ATE THAT SHIT UP LIKE A GRANDMA'S SOUP @makima4ever taggin you, since you requested this too.🦑

artist @ave661 check their stuff out, my fellow humans!

So, we already know you have scary dog privileges.

I mean, you wouldn't want to get into disagreement with any of them normally.

So when they are glaring everyone down, you can be sure that no one even looks at you wrong.

No one wants to fight a demolition expert, a dude with a skeleton mask, and a 208cm tall dude.

Everyone drops their jaw when you playfully punch Ghost, and he just lets you.

Soap and Ghost become kind of glad König is with them.

Since he's a colonel, not even other colonels want to mess with you.

They finally started working together.

You still have times when no one is following you.

At those times, they will try to get your attention.

Oh, they still fight amongst each other. Now, the fighting is more subtle.

You still notice they fought when some of their gear is broken or missing completely.

Now, they love to give you attention, but if you give them your attention.

Just get ready for them to fall in love with you even harder.

You are messing with their heads.

Soap loves the faces of people when they realize they messed with the wrong person.

Now, for how would they get rid of anyone who decides to argue with you.

Ghost would just do the necessary staring like he always does. If that doesn't scare them off, he will start breaking limbs.

Soap would threaten them with explosives. If that won't work on them he will proceed with his threats.

König would just grin under his mask and beat the shit out of them. No warnings.

They all want to have you for themselves.

Only after some time they will try to make moves.

Ghost freezes when you blush at his flirting.

He was so taken aback by your reaction.

Soap would probably put an arm over your shoulder while you are in a helicopter, saying "Need some sleep?"

He also freezes when you actually lay your head on his shoulder.

König would want to help you get over a wall way taller than you by lifting you up.

When you two were both over the wall, he held you in his hands, not wanting to let go.

He would also freeze like the rest of them, when you hug him instead of telling him to let go of you.

Poor dudes. Just give them some love.

P3?

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tightjeansjavi · 10 months

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♡ Barbie Girl ♡ | AU!Joel Miller x f! Reader

A/N: this was such a fun lil idea to pursue and I love the idea of Joel wearing pink just cause he knows how happy it makes Sarah ♡

~word count: 1.5k~

Summary: Joel, Sarah and Tommy go to the Barbie movie opening weekend

Warnings: none, lots of fluff, Joel is a feminist icon, soft dad vibes, Joel is a girl dad himbo, he’ll do anything to make his kid happy, Sarah is an icon on her own, Tommy is Tommy of course but he’s so himbo too, AU that takes place in 2023, Joel is a progressive dad, Sarah loves him for it, little bit of flirting with Joel and the reader, no age gap, some spoilers for the Barbie movie! (+18 for language) minors dni.

July 2023, Austin Texas

Joel Miller never would consider himself to be a ‘girl dad’ as the younger generation would refer to him as. He had to literally look up what the word ‘DILF’ meant when Sarah told him one day after school that all of the moms thought he was attractive. He had Google on speed dial just so he could feel like he was ‘hip’ again. 36 years old and he felt older than ever. Sarah was a big help of course and steered her dad in the right direction political wise. Her dad was a good man of course, but nothing made her happier than when she had his full support as a young woman. Before the Barbie movie came out, Joel and Sarah spent every weekend volunteering at a local women’s shelter. The bumper of his truck was decorated with women-empowering stickers including a sticker that said, ‘Abortion is Healthcare’ and ‘Women’s Rights Are Human Rights.’ He didn’t stop there of course. He also had a BLM sticker, ‘Dismantle White Supremacy’, ‘Eat The Rich’ and he still had a Bernie sticker front and center.

The weekend that the Barbie movie came out, Joel had already pre ordered tickets for him, Sarah and Tommy as well who had multiple pink shirts for Joel to choose from. Sarah had insisted that they all had to wear pink and Joel would do just about anything to make his baby girl happy.

“Are ya sure your old man doesn’t look silly in this?” Joel gestured to his hot pink tee-shirt with a soft huff as he observed his appearance in the mirror.

“Dad, why do you think you look silly? Pink is totally your color!” Sarah responded with a genuine smile as she playfully placed the Barbie baseball cap on his mess of brown curls. “Do you or do you not feel Bonita?”

Joel stifled a chuckle, shaking his head as he fixed the cap on his head. “I feel Bonita.”

The drive to the movie theater consisted of listening to a Barbie inspired Spotify playlist off of Sarah’s phone. Joel and Tommy proudly knew every word to the Barbie Girl song of course. Once they arrived to the theater, Joel was awe-struck at the amount of people who were dressed in pink and he felt less self-conscious about his hot pink shirt when he saw numerous guys and dads wearing pink shirts as well.

At first he was confused when a group of women around his age said, “Hi Ken” to him and Tommy, and “Hi Barbie” to Sarah who immediately responded with a wave and, “Hi Barbie!” She gently nudged her dad with her elbow as he stood there blinking, mouth opening and closing like a fish. “Dad, you gotta say hi Barbie! Back.”

“Oh. OH! Shit, sorry sweet pea.” He cleared his throat under his breath before he raised his hand with a sheepish smile. “Hi Barbie!” He was looking right at you out of all of your friends. You were dressed head to toe in pink and you mirrored the same sheepish smile that he did. Joel turned to his daughter afterwards, cheeks feeling inflamed. “Did I do alright? So, I say that everytime someone says hi Ken?”

“You did great, dad! Yeah, so everytime a Barbie says, ‘hi Ken!’ You say, ‘hi Barbie!’, and when a Ken says, ‘hi Ken!’ You say, ‘hi Ken!’”

“Yeah, brother. It ain’t that hard.” Tommy chimed in and wrapped his arm around Joel’s shoulders and gave them a light squeeze.

“Shuddup Tommy.” Joel grumbled under his breath.

Your friends from your college days insisted that you join them to go see the new Barbie movie. At first you were against the idea until you read reviews and once you saw it was a movie that empowered women, you were all in. It was your idea in the end to dress head to toe in pink and you and your friends each had a comfort Barbie in your purses as well.

When you saw Joel Miller across the way looking confused as all hell when your friends said ‘hi Ken!’ You thought he was adorable for two reasons. One being he clearly was wearing pink to support his daughter and two, he looked proud of himself after saying ‘hi Barbie!’ To you and your friends.

“Now, that’s a real man if I’ve ever seen one!” Your one friend, Jessica excitedly whispered to the group as if she was back in her highschool days in the passing period hallways.

“Okay, but his brother? Jesus Christ, if I wasn’t married I would be all over that!” Avery chimed in with a giggle.

“How do you know that they’re brothers? They could be two dads taking their daughter to the movies.” You responded with a shrug as you pulled up the tickets on your phone.

“Nah, they look related and besides, the one with the baseball cap was looking right at you babe!” Jaimie commented with a small grin as she nudged your side gently.

“No, he wasn’t.” You responded with a light laugh and shake of your head.

“Girl, he looked like a blubbering fish when he saw you.” Your friends all affirmed.

Your friends were right on the money with that one. Joel Miller was doing his absolute best to check you out in the most respectful way he could while he was in the line for popcorn. Sarah of course caught the way her dad was looking at you, and she was determined to get him to muster up the courage to talk to you after the movie.

The movie was everything Sarah had imagined it to be. She laughed, she cried and Joel and Tommy had teared up during some of the scenes. Especially when Barbie and Ken travel to the real world and the first thing she experiences is being cat-called and objectified by men. The patriarchy was alive and well outside of Barbie land and as a straight, white man, Joel recognized that he and Tommy had an easy life compared to their female counterparts. This didn’t mean that they agreed with it. In fact, Joel and Tommy were fully against the patriarchal system.

Sarah found herself hugging her dad tightly as the credits rolled and he was gently smoothing down her curls and kissing the top of her head. Sometimes Joel felt guilty over the fact that Sarah no longer had a mother figure in her life, but it was moments like these that reminded him that he was just a dad doing his best for his kid who he loved so dearly. “I love you so much, baby girl. I’ll always fight for you. Okay, kiddo?” He whispered softly with his lips against her temple.

Sarah hugged him tighter. “I love you so much dad. Thank you for always being there for me.”

Tommy was tearing up again.

The three Millers took a selfie with the Barbie poster just outside the movie theater with their faces squished into the frame. The picture was being taken while you were standing outside of the women’s bathroom waiting for your friends. You watched as Joel struggled to get his phone at the right angle, so you took it upon yourself to go over and help. “Hi Kens, hi Barbie! Would you guys like me to take a picture of you?”

Joel already felt his cheeks begin to heat up. “Hi Barbie. That would be great if ya could. Can never get these damn angles right with this thing. I uh—I like your outfit. It’s very Barbie.” He commented softly.

“Thanks, Ken. I really like your baseball cap.” You responded with a genuine smile as he handed you his phone. You took a few steps back so that all three Miller’s would be in the frame. You took a few photos before handing him his phone back just as your friends were departing from the bathroom.

“Hey, Barbie? Before you go, my dad is way too shy to say it but he thinks you’re super duper pretty.” Sarah proclaimed without skipping a beat.

Joel was beet red now as he scrubbed a hand down his face, fingertips scraping across his beard. “Sarah! You can’t just—” He sighed with a nervous smile. “Okay, it’s true Barbie. I do think you’re super duper pretty. Cats out of the bag thanks to my daughter.” He gave Sarah a playful warning look and mussed up her curls.

“Well Ken, it’s your lucky day because I think you’re really handsome. Do you wanna see Oppenheimer with me next weekend?”

“I would absolutely love to go see Oppenheimer with you next weekend Barbie.” Joel didn’t hesitate to respond.

“It’s a date. See you next weekend, Ken.” You exchanged phone numbers before you made your way over to your friends who were waiting for you.

“This Barbie has a date next weekend!” You told your friends the good news and they all excitedly cheered for you.

As soon as Joel and Sarah got home, Sarah dug out her old box of Barbie’s and brought them down to the living room, while Joel had found all of the Barbie DVD’s that Sarah insisted he keep. They spent the rest of the evening playing with her Barbie’s and watching the Princess and the Pauper; Sarah’s all time favorite Barbie movie.

Tag list: @chaotic-mystery @saradika @cavillscurls @thetriumphantpanda @sinsofsummers @morning-star-joy @cupofjoel @dinsdjrn @korynnekorynne @kirsteng42 @last-girl @tessa-quayle (you will love this one)

Creator divider made by @saradika

Barbie divider made by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

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acourtofthought · 8 months

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242 Reasons Why Lucien is the GOAT of the ACOTAR Series

“I’m Lucien. Courtier and emissary.” He gestured to me with a flourish. “Your eyes are like stars, and your hair like burnished gold.”

Lucien smirked. “Apologies, Feyre.”

I finally found Lucien astride a black gelding, grinning down at me with too-white teeth.

“I admire your balls, Feyre—I really do. Or maybe it’s stupidity

“A valiant effort,” Lucien said with a smirk.

Lucien snorted but didn’t say anything else

“I might die of surprise,” Lucien said behind me. “You made a joke, Feyre.”

A cork popped, followed by the sounds of Lucien chugging the bottle’s contents and chuckling with a muttered “Brushed.”

Lucien remained sitting on the blanket and lifted the bottle of wine in salute. He took a slug from it as he sprawled on his back and gazed at the green canopy.

He sighed, looking skyward before he studied me warily, that metal eye narrowing with unnerving focus.

I wondered—wondered if being emissary also meant being spymaster.

“I didn’t keep my mouth shut when I should have, and was punished for it.”

“Well, thank the Cauldron that you didn’t. Cleaning up that mess would have ruined the rest of my day.”

He winced. “Shit, Feyre—I’m not that old.”

Lucien huffed a laugh. “Not as good as Tam, but I know how to handle my weapons.”

“Would you like me to teach you how to wield a blade, or do you already know how, oh mighty mortal huntress?

Lucien sighed as he looked me over. “Do you ever stop being so serious and dull?”. “Do you ever stop being such a prick?” I snapped back. But Lucien grinned at me. “Much better.”

The face of Tamlin’s emissary—more court-trained and calculating than I’d seen him yet.

In lieu of a pretty breakfast table by the window, a worn worktable dominated the space, covered in various weapons.

It was there he sat, wearing only a white shirt and trousers, his red hair unbound and gleaming like liquid fire. Tamlin’s court-trained emissary, but a warrior in his own right.

“I had to go sort out some hotheads on the northern border��official emissary business,” he said, setting down the hunting knife he’d been cleaning, a long, vicious blade.

Lucien leaned back in his chair, smiling with feline delight.

Lucien never cared about it, never expected to be crowned High Lord, so he spent his youth doing everything a High Lord’s son probably shouldn’t: wandering the courts, making friends with the sons of other High Lords”—

he’d already made many friends across the courts and had always been good at talking to people.

Lucien told her to go back to the shit-hole she’d crawled out of. She took his eye as punishment.

The metal eye narrowed on me while the other remained wary, unimpressed. “Yes?”

The look he gave me was more contemplative than any he’d given me before. “I know far too many High Fae and lesser faeries who wouldn’t have seen it that way—or bothered.”

He reached for something at his side and tossed it to me. I had to fight to stay in the saddle as I fumbled for it—a jeweled hunting knife. / I’d never held one so finely crafted, so perfectly balanced.

“Burn in Hell,” Lucien replied for Tamlin.

“Idiot!” he yelled at me, then glanced behind him toward where the other faeries stared. “Useless human fool.” Without further word, he slung me over his shoulder as if I were a sack of potatoes.

I found that he was running—fast. Faster than anything should be able to move.

I could have sworn that Lucien was sleeping upright, fork in hand.

Lucien propped an arm on the table and covered his mouth with his hand, his russet eye bright.

“Faerie pig!” I yelled, and Lucien howled, almost tipping back in his chair.

“Well, I’m late for something incredibly important,” Lucien said, and before I could call him on his outright lie or beg him to stay, the fox-masked faerie vanished.

Lucien, claiming that he had miserable emissary business to attend to,

Lucien, mercifully, appeared like Lucien. I didn’t ask whether that was because Tamlin had informed him to put up a better glamour or because he didn’t bother trying to be something he wasn’t.

“I see,” I lied, not quite seeing at all. Lucien chuckled, sensing it

He used the dagger to clean his nails. “I’ve been busy. So have you, I take it.”

Lucien climbed the statue to remove the head.

“Cauldron boil me,” Lucien whistled as I came down the stairs. “She looks positively Fae.”

“Unfortunately for you and your neck,” Lucien countered, “tonight’s just a party.” “Do you lie awake at night to come up with all your witty replies for the following day?” Lucien winked at me.

“So there’s singing and dancing and excessive drinking,” Lucien chimed in, falling into step beside me. “And dallying,” he added with a wicked grin.

“Remember the last time you ignored my warning?” He poked me in the neck, and I batted his hand away.

“I also remember you telling me how witchberries were harmless, and the next thing I knew, I was half-delirious and falling all over myself,” I said, recalling the afternoon from a few weeks ago. I’d had hallucinations for hours afterward, and Lucien had laughed himself sick—enough so that Tamlin had chucked him into the reflection pool.

His auburn hair burned like hot metal, and his russet eye smoldered like a bottomless forge.

“Cauldron boil and fry me,” he muttered,

“Idiot,” he said when he looked at my face. “Drunken idiot.”

I wanted his broad hands running over my bare skin, wanted his teeth scraping against my neck, wanted his mouth all over me. “I’m trying to eat,” Lucien said

Lucien lead me to the window, where he pushed me against the velvet drapes. / The tang of magic shoved itself up my nostrils. Though his sword was pointed at the floor, Lucien’s grip tightened on it until his knuckles turned white. Magic—a glamour. To conceal me, to make me a part of Lucien—invisible, hidden by the faerie’s magic and scent.

Lucien pointed his sword at Rhysand. “Watch your filthy mouth.”

Lucien spat at Rhysand’s feet and shoved his sword between us.

“You draw blood from me, Lucien, and you’ll learn how quickly Amarantha’s whore can make the entire Autumn Court bleed. Especially its darling Lady.” The color leeched from Lucien’s face, but he held his ground.

Lucien stared him down for a moment, spat on the ground, and stormed up the stairs.

“Well, at least we don’t have to lie to you anymore. Let’s clean you up a bit.”

“Fixed—as pert and pretty as before.” He smirked at me.

“Her name, Emissary?” Amarantha asked of Lucien. But Lucien only glanced at Tamlin before closing his eyes and squaring his shoulders.

“I thought you would have learned your lesson, Lucien. Though this time your silence will damn you as much as your tongue.” Lucien kept his eyes shut. Ready—he was ready for Rhysand to wipe out everything he was, to turn his mind, his self, into dust.

Then, shattering the silence like a shooting star, a voice—Lucien’s—bellowed across the chamber. “TO YOUR LEFT!”

She listened, of course—but only after she made Tamlin bestow Lucien’s punishment. Twenty lashes.”

He unclasped his cloak and set it around my shoulders.

“It’s why I couldn’t come sooner,” he said, his throat bobbing. “She used her—used our powers to keep my back from healing. I haven’t been able to move until today.”

The brutally scarred face beneath was still handsome—his features sharp and elegant.

“Tam!” Lucien cried over the chaos. A sword hurtled through the air, a shooting star of steel.

Lucien hunted down five naga yesterday.”

Lucien had gifted both to me—the dagger during the months before Amarantha, the belt in the weeks after her downfall, when I’d carried the dagger, along with many others, everywhere I went. You might as well look good if you’re going to arm yourself to the teeth, he’d said.

Last week, I’d finally asked him if she’d set her sights on him, and Lucien had merely given me a look, snarling softly, before stalking off

the right hand of a High Lord and another High Lord’s son.

“I didn’t lie,” Lucien said tightly. “I technically did fall off my horse.” He patted his mount’s flank. “After one of them tackled me off her.”

I am the first one the others look to—I set the example.

“I was forced to watch as my father butchered the female I loved. My brothers forced me to watch.”

“Please,” Lucien said, bowing his head gracefully. “The effort to rebuild is our burden to share. It would be our honor.”

He assured me that he hated the gatherings as much as I did, and that Lucien was the only one who really enjoyed himself,

Lucien intervened calmly, “I already have my sources looking into it.”

Lucien sighed a bit and said to Tamlin, “If we perhaps trained her in secret—”

Lucien muttered something that sounded like a plea to the Cauldron.

Lucien took a deep breath that sounded a lot like: “Here we go.”

Lucien cleared his throat. “She meant no harm, Tam.”/ Lucien held his gaze. “Worse things have happened, worse things can happen. Just relax.”

Thoughts slammed into me, images and memories, a pattern of thinking and feeling that was old, and clever, and sad, so endlessly sad and guilt-ridden, hopeless—

“How long have the claws been appearing?” he said softly. "There's only so much I can do,” he said hoarsely. “But I’ll ask him tonight. About the training. The powers will manifest whether we train you or not, no matter who is around. I’ll ask him tonight,” he repeated.

They will hunt her, and kill her, Ianthe had hissed at Lucien. Lucien had growled back, They’ll do it anyway, so what’s the difference?

We are not assassins, Lucien had cut in. Rhys is what he is, but who would take his place—. Lucien had gone on, his tone pleading, Tamlin. Tam. Just let her train, let her master this—if the other High Lords do come for her, let her stand a chance...

His red hair was tied back, and there wasn’t a hint of finery on him: just armored leather, swords, knives

Lucien, beside Tamlin, again put a hand on his sword. “Stop this.”

“That is enough.” Lucien surged for Elain, for the Cauldron.

Lucien snarled at the king over the bite of the magic at his throat, “Don’t just leave her on the damned floor—” There was a flare of light, and a scrape, and then Lucien was stalking toward Elain, freed of his restraints.

As Lucien took off his jacket, kneeling before Elain.

“She is no such thing,” she said, and shoved him again. Lucien didn’t move an inch.

Perhaps you’ll get a handsome Fae lord as your mate, too.”

Lucien’s answering growl was nothing short of feral.

Lucien spun toward me, and that metal eye whirred and narrowed. Centuries of cultivated reason clicked into place.

But Lucien was watching me warily. Too warily.

His gaze on me. Face hard. As if he’d seen through every lie. As if he knew of the second tattoo beneath my glove, and the glamour I now kept on it. As if he knew that they had let a fox into a chicken coop—and he could do nothing. Not unless he never wanted to see his mate—Elain—again.

It was Lucien who answered, studying my painting as if it held the proof I knew he was searching for.

Lucien remained leaning against the door across from mine. His room. I didn’t doubt he’d ensured I now stayed across from him. Didn’t doubt that the metal eye he possessed was always turned toward my own chambers, even while he slept.

“She’s going to spin a story that you’ll want to hear,” Lucien warned. / Lucien halted me with a hand around my elbow. “You’re smarter than that.” I studied the broad, tan hand wrapped around my elbow.

Lucien breathed, “Where is he keeping her?” / “Tell me anyway. List all of them.”. “You’ll die the moment you set foot in his territory.” “I survived well enough when I found you.”

Lucien only nodded. But I felt his gaze on my back, fixed right on my spine, as I headed downstairs

Lucien answered, “If you expect our gratitude, you’ll be waiting a while, Ianthe.”

Lucien seemed to be trying very, very hard not to roll his eyes.

I could practically feel the snide remark simmering in Lucien.

“My emissary knows the wall as well as any sentry.”

“I have an old friend at the Dawn Court. She’s skilled at tinkering—blending magic and machinery. Tamlin got her to craft it for me at great risk.”

I was fairly certain that only centuries of training kept Lucien from leaping over the table to rip out Jurian’s throat.

“The gap in the wall is right up here,” Lucien was saying, sounding about as thrilled as me to be in such company.

Brannagh studied how closely I stood to Lucien; how he shifted slightly to shield me, too.

Lucien sat against a nearby tree, folding one booted ankle over another. “Whatever you’re planning, it’ll land us knee-deep in shit.”

“I would have been a part of the human-Fae alliance.”

“I did it for you, too, you know.” Cold, hard words. “I went with him to get you back.”

But the only trace of you was that ring, melted between the stones of the parlor. I got rid of it a moment before Tam arrived home to see it.”

“This situation is terrible,” I said, and it was the truth. A low snort.

And despite Jurian, despite the sneering royals, a corner of Lucien’s mouth tugged upward.

I gave Lucien a subtle, pleading look, and he barely hid his smirk as he sauntered over to me. Our dispersing party watched as he braced my waist in his broad hands and easily hefted me off the horse.

Ever the courtier, he bowed back.

He flat-out refused to participate. I replaced him in the Rite, but …” I went in his stead, and I did my duty to the court.

I could feel Ianthe scrambling to regain control, to find some way to spin it. Perhaps Lucien could, too. For he took my hand, and then knelt upon one knee in the grass, pressing my fingers to his brow.

I kept close to Lucien, who was inclined to indulge me.

Lucien answered on the second knock. “I heard you—what’s wrong.” He scanned me, russet eye wide as he noted my disheveled hair, my sweaty nightgown. / I swallowed, a silent question on my face, and he nodded, retreating into the room to let me inside. Bare from the waist up, he’d managed to haul on a pair of pants before opening the door, and hastily buttoned them as I strode past.

“What did you dream of tonight?” he asked quietly./ Lucien rose, stalking to me. / Lucien paused half a foot from me. He didn’t so much as object as I threw my arms around his neck, burying my face against his warm, bare chest. / Lucien loosed a heavy sigh and slid an arm around my waist, the other threading through my hair to cradle my head. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I’m sorry.” He held me, stroking soothing lines down my back

His red hair gleamed in the faint firelight.

His silence was heavy—sad. I hated the lie, hated it for how filthy it felt to wield it. “I’m sorry,” he said

It’s why we avoid bargains unless it’s necessary: even the scholars at the Day Court don’t know how it works. Believe me, I’ve asked.” “For me—you asked them for me.”. “Yes. I went last winter to inquire about breaking your bargain with Rhys.” “Why didn’t you tell me?” “I—we didn’t want to give you false hope. And we didn’t dare let Rhysand get wind of what we were doing, in case he found a way to interfere. To stop it.”

“You didn’t stop him.” “I tried. I begged him for mercy. He didn’t listen. He couldn’t listen.”

“Even if they’re now our allies,” I mumbled, “I still hate them.” A snort. “Me too.”

“Autumn Court males have fire in their blood—and they fuck like it, too.”

Then at us, their eyes widening further as they noted Lucien’s cruel beauty.

Lucien stared him down. “We accept no tribute from the human lands. Least of all children.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I replied, well aware that Lucien carefully watched from the shade of a nearby oak.

Lucien had gone to the stream to get more water

Lucien woke me the next morning with a hand over my mouth, warning gleaming in his russet eye. I smelled it a moment later: the coppery tang of blood. / Lucien slid from the tent, limbs loose and ready to shift into a defensive position. He’d been trained, he once told me—at the Autumn Court and at this one. Like Rhys, he usually opted for words to win his battles, but I’d seen him and Tamlin in the practice ring. He knew how to handle a weapon. How to kill, if need be.

Lucien laid his own cloak across the remains of the two young women.

“They are our allies,” he growled at me, at Lucien, both of us seated in armchairs flanking the mantel. / “And you should have left it alone for me to deal with.” Tamlin heaved a jagged breath. “Not retaliated like children.” He threw a glare in Lucien’s direction. “I expected better from you.” / “You sent the Bogge after them!” Tamlin roared. /Lucien had tracked it down—and we’d lured it, carefully, over hours, back to that camp. Right to where Dagdan and Brannagh had been gloating over their kill. / Lucien cleared his throat. Stood as well. “Tam—those humans were barely more than children. Feyre gave the royals an order to stand down. They ignored it. If we let Hybern walk all over us, we stand to lose more than their alliance. The Bogge reminded them that we aren’t without our claws, too.”

He exploded. Furniture splintered and went flying, windows cracked and shattered. / My knees slammed into the carpeted floor, and Tamlin was instantly in front of me, hands shaking— The doors burst open. “What have you done,” Lucien breathed, and Tamlin’s face was the picture of devastation as Lucien shoved him aside. He let Lucien shove him aside and help me stand. / “Let’s get you cleaned up,” Lucien said, an arm around my shoulders as he eased me from the room.

the broad panes of his chest, his stomach.

But Lucien was there. Her focus wholly on me, on taking from me the beauty I’d burned from her, Brannagh did not see him winnow until it was too late. Until Lucien’s sword refracted the light of the sun leaking through the canopy. And then met flesh and bone.

“I’m going with you,” he said again, face splattered with blood as bright as his hair. “I’m getting my mate back.”

“I know a place,” Lucien said, walking toward the cave that would take us to his home.

I let Lucien lead the way,

“It doesn’t lead anywhere. It curves away in the back—it’ll keep us out of sight.” I let him go inside first nonetheless.

Flint struck, and I found myself gazing at a makeshift camp of sorts. The candle Lucien had ignited sat on a natural stone ledge, and on the floor nearby lay three bedrolls and old blankets, crusted with leaves and cobwebs. A little fire pit lay in the sloped center of the space, the ceiling above it charred. No one had been here in months. Years. “I used to stay here while hunting. Before—I left,” he said,

“It’s too risky to eat,” I admitted, evading his question. Lucien was having none of it. “I knew. I knew you were lying the moment you unleashed that light in Hybern. My friend at the Dawn Court has the same power—her light is identical. And it does not do whatever horseshit you lied about it doing.”

His eye seemed to simmer. As if being in his own lands set that molten ore inside him rising to the surface, even with the damper on his power. “Glad to see the mask is off, at least.”

“You have the gall to question my priorities regarding Elain—yet what was your motive where I was concerned? Did you plan to spare me from your path of destruction because of any genuine friendship, or simply for fear of what it might do to her?”

His woods, by blood and law. He was a son of this forest, and here … He looked crafted from it. For it. Even that gold eye.

he waded into the stream, boots off and pants rolled to his knees, and caught one with his bare hands. He’d tied his hair up, a few strands of it falling into his face as he swooped down again and threw a second trout onto the sandy bank where I’d been trying to find a substitute for fishing twine. / Lucien picked them up by their tails, as if he’d done it a thousand times. He might very well have, right here in this stream. “I’ll clean them while you start the fire.” I

“As the youngest of seven sons, I wasn’t particularly needed or wanted. Perhaps it was a good thing. I was able to study for longer than my father allowed my brothers before shoving them out the door to rule over some territory within our lands, and I could train for as long as I liked, since no one believed I’d be dumb enough to kill my way up the long list of heirs. And when I grew bored with studying and fighting … I learned what I could of the land from its people. Learned about the people, too.” He eased to his feet with a groan, his unbound hair glimmering as the midday sun overhead set the blood and wine hues aglow. “I’d say that sounds more High-Lord-like than the life of an idle, unwanted son.” A long, steely look. “Did you think it was mere hatred that prompted my brothers to do their best to break and kill me?”

of all the sounds that Lucien so carefully sorted through while he kept watch.

he removed his cloak and added it over my blanket.

“Father,” the one now holding a knife to my throat said to Lucien, “is rather put out that you didn’t stop by to say hello.” “We’re on an errand and can’t be delayed,” Lucien answered smoothly, mastering himself.

he saw the sweat beading on my temple, my upper lip, as my blood heated. A slight bob of his chin was his only sign of understanding.

“Run,” I gasped out, but Lucien was already at my side, a steadying hand under my arm as I burned that flame hotter and hotter. It wouldn’t keep them contained for long, and I could indeed feel someone’s power rising to challenge mine. But there was another force to wield. Lucien understood the same moment I did. Sweat simmered on Lucien’s brow as a pulse of flame-licked power slammed into the stones just above us. Dust and debris rained down. I threw any trickle of magic into Lucien’s next blow. His next. / Lucien and I brought down the cave ceiling.

I’d been wearing my cloak, but … he’d indeed given me his. He shivered against the cold as we dragged and clawed our way up the mountain slope, and did not dare stop.

“Tell me about her—about Elain,” Lucien said quietly.

“And then I’ll ask your mate how he survived it—knowing you were engaged to someone else. Sharing another male’s bed.”

“You left us.” Us. Not Tamlin. Us. The words echoed into the dark,

"You fit into the Spring Court as little as I did, Lucien. You enjoyed its pleasures and diversions. But don’t pretend you weren’t made for something more than that.”

“Run,” Lucien breathed. / “Faster,” Lucien ordered. “Don’t look!” he barked as I began to turn my head to see if they’d followed. He lashed out a hand to grip my elbow, steadying me before I could even register that I’d stumbled. / “Zag,” Lucien panted. “We need to—” He shoved me aside, and I staggered, arms wheeling. Just as an arrow ricocheted off the ice where I’d been standing. “Faster,” Lucien snapped, and I didn’t hesitate.

Behind him, cut off by his brothers, Lucien had drawn his own knife and now sized up the other two.

I think Lucien shouted my name.

“Which one?” I asked carefully. Mor swept her attention over Lucien once more. I almost pitied Lucien for the weight in her gaze, the utter judgment. The stare of the Morrigan—whose gift was pure truth. Whatever she beheld in Lucien was enough for her to say, “The town house. You have someone waiting there for you.”

Lucien survey our surroundings.

But their watchful silence was indication enough: let him decide his own fate. At last, Lucien looked at me. At us. He said, “There are children laughing in the streets.” I blinked. He said it with such … quiet surprise. As if he hadn’t heard the sound in a long, long time.

“I see you brought home a new pet,” she said, nose crinkling with distaste. / Before I could introduce him, Lucien bowed at the waist. Deeply / Amren smiled slightly. “Already trained, I see.”

Lucien, to his credit, didn’t back away a step. From Rhys, or me, or the Illyrians. The Clever Fox Stares Down Winged Death. The painting flashed into my mind.

Lucien only shifted on his feet. Wary. Considering. I counted the heartbeats, debating how much I’d interfere if he said something truly stupid, when he at last murmured, “There is a longer story to be told, it seems.” Smart answer.

Lucien weighed my offer—and the three males monitoring his every blink and breath. He only nodded. Another wise decision.

“And you love him. And he—he truly does love you.” Lucien dragged a hand through his red hair. “And all these people I have spent my centuries hating, even fearing … They are your family.”

And yet there she was, acting more like a cranky old aunt than anything.”

But Lucien was standing in the doorway. And from the devastation on his face, I knew he’d heard every word. Seen and heard and felt the hollowness and despair radiating from her.

“I would never hurt her.” A bleak sort of honesty in his words.

We were almost to the door, Cassian already in the hall, when Lucien said to me, “Thank you.” I didn’t dare ask him for what.

"set up the handsome one as High Lord of Autumn"

“What did you do with yourself this afternoon?” “Slept,” he said. “Washed. Sat on my ass.”

His face was indeed controlled, but—a hint of surprise twinkled there. Wariness, too, but … surprise.

Lucien, standing near the windows and watching the sun set over Velaris, was wearing a fine green jacket embroidered with gold, his cream-colored pants showing off muscled thighs, and his knee-high black boots polished enough that the chandeliers of faelight reflected off them. He’d always had a casual grace about him, but here, tonight, with his hair tied back and jacket buttoned to his neck, he truly looked the part of a High Lord’s son. Handsome, powerful, a bit rakish—but well-mannered and elegant.

Lucien considered. “Can I offer my unsolicited advice?” / Lucien studied my mate, then me. “I assume Feyre is going.” / “Are you planning to hide her powers?” / Lucien studied me again, and it was an effort not to squirm. “My father would likely join with Hybern if he thought he stood a chance of getting his power back that way—by killing you.” / Lucien jerked his chin to Azriel. “That’s the information you need to gather. What my father knows—if my brothers realized what she was doing. You need to start from there, and build your plan for this meeting accordingly.”

Rhys swirled his wine once, set it down, and said to Lucien, “You and Azriel should talk. Tomorrow.” Lucien glanced toward the shadowsinger—who only nodded at him. “I’m at your disposal.”

He added to Lucien, who did not balk from those writhing shadows, “After lunch, we’ll meet.

“You trust Lucien.” Rhys angled his head at the not-quite question. “I trust in the fact that we currently have possession of the one thing he wants above all else. And as long as that remains, he’ll try to stay on our good side. But if that changes … His talent was wasted in the Spring Court. There was a reason he had that fox mask, you know.”

“He’s not a bad person—he’s not evil.” “He certainly isn’t.”

Too thin. She must not be eating at all. How can she even stand? The thoughts flowed through his head, one after another. His heart was a raging, thunderous beat, and he didn’t dare move from his position a mere five feet away. She hadn’t yet turned toward him, but the ravages of her fasting were evident enough. Touch her, smell her, taste her— The instincts were a running river. He fisted his hands at his sides.

Azriel seemed like a decent enough male

He tried to sound casual—comfortable. Even as his heart raced and raced, so swift he thought he might vomit on the very expensive, very old carpet. From Sangravah, if the patterns and rich dyes were any indication. Rhysand was many things, but he certainly had good taste. This entire place had been decorated with thought and elegance, with a penchant for comfort over stuffiness.

An ache like a blow to the chest went through him, but he crossed the rug. Forced his hands to be steady while he poured himself a cup of tea and sat in the chair opposite Nesta’s vacated one. “There’s a plate of biscuits. Would you like one?”

he couldn’t breathe as she faced him fully. She was the most beautiful female he’d ever seen.

Her eyes were the brown of a fawn’s coat.

“I am Lucien. Seventh son of the High Lord of the Autumn Court.” And a whole lot of nothing. He’d told the shadowsinger all he knew—of his surviving brothers, of his father. His mother … he’d kept some details, irrelevant and utterly personal, to himself. Everything else—his father’s closest allies, the most conniving courtiers and lords … He’d handed it over. Granted, it was dated by a few centuries, but in his time as emissary, from the information he’d gathered, not much had changed. They’d all acted the same Under the Mountain, anyway. And after what had happened with his brothers a few days ago … There was no tinge of guilt when he told Azriel what he knew. None of what he felt when he looked toward the south—toward both of the courts he’d called home.

He fought against the bristling rage, the irrational urge to find the male who’d claimed her and shred him apart. The words were a rasp as he instead said, “I know. I’m sorry.”

He paused right between them and said to me, to Nesta, “She needs fresh air.” / “We’ll judge what she needs.” I could have sworn his ruby hair gleamed like molten metal as his temper rose. But it faded, his russet eye fixing on me. “Take her to the sea. Take her to some garden. But get her out of this house for an hour or two.” Then he walked away.

“Mother above,” Lucien said, dragging a hand through his hair.

Lucien had offered to make himself useful while we were gone by reading through some of the texts now piled on the tables throughout the sitting room.

But I will say that Lucien is loyal—fiercely so.”

It wasn’t just about what he thought—it was the … feeling. I sensed no ill will, no conniving. Only concern for her. And … sorrow. Longing

Cassian had come off the roof at some point to join Lucien in the sitting room, the books from the wall spread on the low-lying table between them

It felt like days ago. I rested my head against the embroidered back of the chair and watched Lucien take a seat on the rolled arm of the nearest couch. “Long day?” I grunted my response.

He weighed my tone, and crossed his arms. “Let me do something. About Elain. I heard—from my room. Everything that happened just now. It wouldn’t hurt to have a healer look her over. Externally and internally.” I was tired enough that I could barely summon the breath to ask, “Do you think the Cauldron made her insane?” “I think she went through something terrible,” Lucien countered carefully. “And it wouldn’t hurt to have your best healer do a thorough examination.”

“Please tell me,” Lucien said when I crossed the threshold into the foyer. “What the healer says. And if—if you need me for anything.”

Madja didn’t deign to answer Nesta until we were at the bottom of the steps. Lucien was already waiting in the sitting room, Mor still lingering in the dining room. Both of them rose to their feet.

Lucien muttered something about not needing to be monitored, and we all looked at him with raised brows. He just lifted his hands, claimed he wanted to freshen up, and headed down the hall.

The sound seemed to startle Elain, who swiftly set down her teacup. She rose to her feet, and Lucien shot to his. “I’m sorry,” he blurted. “What—what was that?” “It—it was a tug. On the bond.” / Then Nesta was standing in the threshold. “What did you do.” The words were as sharp as a blade. Lucien looked to her, then over to me. A muscle feathered in his jaw. “Nothing,” he said, and again faced his mate. “I’m sorry—if that unsettled you.” Elain sidled toward Nesta, who seemed to be at a near-simmer. “It felt … strange,” Elain breathed. “Like you pulled on a thread tied to a rib.” Lucien exposed his palms to her. “I’m sorry.”

“And I got to Elain’s end of it when she ran off.” “Did you sense anything?” “No—I didn’t have time. I felt her, but …” A blush stained his cheek.

Lucien’s attention slid behind me, to the various letters on different styles and makes of paper. That golden eye narrowed. As Tamlin’s emissary, he no doubt recognized them. “Let me guess: they said yes, but picking the location is now going to be the headache.” Mor frowned. “Any suggestions?” Lucien tied back his hair with a strap of brown leather. “Do you have a map?”

Lucien had indeed given us an initial location, and several more when those were struck down. But that was to be expected, Lucien had said, as if he’d arranged such things countless times. Rhys had only nodded in agreement—and approval.

Especially since Lucien had left before breakfast for a library across the city to look up anything in regard to fixing the wall, a task I’d been more than willing to hand over. I might have felt guilty for never giving him a proper tour of Velaris, but … he seemed eager. More than eager—he seemed to be itching to head into the city on his own.

Lucien, stationed by the front window, turned from watching the street. Monitoring it. A sword and dagger hung from his belt. No humor, no warmth graced his face—only fierce, grim determination.

“I’ll go.” Lucien was staring at Elain as he spoke. We all looked at him. Lucien shifted his focus to Rhys, to me. “I’ll go,” he repeated, rising to his feet. “To find this sixth queen.” / “What makes you think you could find her?” Rhys asked. Not rudely, but—from a commander’s perspective. Sizing up the skills Lucien offered against the risks, the potential benefits. “This eye …” Lucien gestured to the metal contraption. “It can see things that others … can’t. Spells, glamours … Perhaps it can help me find her. And break her curse.” He glanced at Elain, who was again studying her lap. “I’m not needed here. I’ll fight if you need me to, but …” He offered me a grim smile. “I do not belong in the Autumn Court. And I’m willing to bet I’m no longer welcome at h—the Spring Court.” Home, he had almost said. “But I cannot sit here and do nothing. Those queens with their armies—there is a threat in that regard, too. So use me. Send me. I will find Vassa, see if she can … bring help.” / “You will be going into the human territory,” Rhys warned. “I can’t spare a force to guard you—” “I don’t need one. I travel faster on my own.” His chin lifted. “I will find her. And if there’s an army to bring back, or at least some way for her own story to sway the human forces … I’ll find a way to do that, too.” My friends glanced to each other. Mor said, “It will be—very dangerous.” A half smile curved Lucien’s mouth. “Good. It’d be boring otherwise.”

Lucien had indeed been studying all those maps lately. Perhaps at the quiet behest of whatever force had guided us all. My mate added, “Thank you.” Lucien shrugged. And it was that gesture alone that made me say at last, “Are you sure?” He only glanced at Elain, whose face was again a calm void while she traced a finger over the embroidery on the couch cushions. “Yes. Let me help in whatever way I can.”

I asked Lucien, “When do you want to leave?” “Tomorrow.” I hadn’t heard him sound so assertive in … a long time. “I’ll prepare for the rest of today, and leave after breakfast tomorrow morning.” He added to Rhys, “If that works for you.”

Cassian had given him free rein yesterday afternoon to loot his personal cache of weapons, though my friend had been economical about which ones he’d selected. The blade, plus a short sword, plus an assortment of daggers. A quiver of arrows and an unstrung bow were tied to his pack.

“You know precisely where you want Rhys to take you?” I asked at last. Lucien nodded, glancing to where my mate now waited by the front door. He’d bring Lucien to the edge of the human continent—to wherever Lucien had decided would be the best landing spot. No farther, Azriel had insisted. His reports indicated it was too watched, too dangerous. Even for one of our own. Even for the most powerful High Lord in history.

“It was time,” Lucien said quietly, giving me a squeeze. “For me to do something.”

Rhys extended a hand to Lucien. Lucien studied it—then my mate’s face. I could nearly see all the hateful words they’d spoken. Dangling between them, between that outstretched hand and Lucien’s own. But Lucien took Rhys’s hand. That silent offer of not only transportation.

Their gazes locked and held. / Lucien inclined his head in a bow, the movement hiding the gleam in his eye—the longing and sadness.

“I—heard the rumors and assumed Lucien Vanserra would be residing there after … what happened.” She still didn’t look at Tamlin, who remained silent and brooding. “I managed to contact him a few days ago—asked him to send samples. He did—and did not tell you,” she added quickly to Rhysand, “because he did not want to raise your hopes. Not until I’d found a solution.” No wonder he’d been so eager to head alone into Velaris that day he’d gone to help us research. I shot a look at Rhys. Seems like Lucien can still play the fox. Rhys didn’t look at me, though his lips twitched as he replied, Indeed.

The Lady of Autumn’s favorite son—not only from Lucien’s goodness. But because he was the child she’d dreamed of having … with the male she undoubtedly loved.

His power is flame, though. They’ve mused Beron’s title could go to him. His mother’s family is strong—that was why Beron wanted a bride from their line. The gift could be hers.

Other than the fact that Lucien might be Helion’s sole heir.

“Lucien,” I breathed. “Who?” Drakon’s brows narrowed. “Oh, the male with the eye. No. He met up with them later on—told them where to go. To come now, actually. So pushy, you Prythian males.

Lucien, haggard and bloody, panting for breath. As if he’d run from the shore. His gaze settled on Elain, and he sagged a little.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, coming toward us. Spying the blood speckling Elain’s hands.

“Well, I never want to fight in another battle as long as I live, but … yes, I’m in one piece.” A faint smile bloomed on Elain’s lips. But Lucien noticed that scorched patch of grass behind us and said, “I heard—what happened. I’m sorry for your loss. All of you.”

“I’ve got one hell of a story to tell you,” he said, squeezing me tightly. “And don’t be surprised if Vassa corners you as soon as the ships are sorted. And the sun sets.” “Is she really—” “Yes. But your father, ever the negotiator …” / “The human queens are still out there,” I said. Maybe I’d hunt them down. “Not for long—not if Vassa has anything to do with it.” “You sound like an acolyte.” Lucien blushed, glancing at Elain. “She’s got a foul temper and a fouler mouth.” He cut me a wry look. “You’ll get along just fine.” I nudged him in the ribs. But Lucien again looked at that singed grass, and his blood-splattered face turned solemn. “He was a good man,” he said. “He loved you all very much.”

Elain fell into step beside me, peering at Lucien. He noticed it. “I heard you made the killing blow,” he said.

I said to him, “So where now? Off with Vassa?” I wondered if he’d heard of Tamlin’s role—the help he’d given us. A look at my friend showed me he had. Someone, perhaps my mate, had informed him. Lucien shrugged. “First—here. To help. Then …” Another glance at Elain. “Who knows?” I nudged Elain, who blinked at me, then blurted, “You could come to Velaris.” He saw all of it, but nodded graciously. “It would be my pleasure.”

Tamlin just shook his head, loathing simmering in his green eyes, and walked past. Not a word. I looked at Lucien in time to see the guilt, the devastation, flicker in that russet eye.

But Lucien remained standing with us as Tamlin found his place in the sitting room to our right. Did not glance at his friend even once. Lucien wasn’t foolish enough to beg for forgiveness.

I didn’t dare look through the ruined doorway to where Lucien now stood in the sitting room, close to Elain’s side

Lucien had remained behind to help with any of the human wounded still needing Fae healing

Another tidbit that Lucien had told us.

Send Lucien then. As our human emissary.

"Where's our dear friend Lucien?" "Off hunting for dinner."

"You brought presents". "It's Solstice tradition here, but isn't it?"

An uncontrollable instinct - for a male to eliminate any threat. But he remained sitting. Even as his fingers dug into the arms of his chair

Somehow in living with Jurian and Vassa in the manor, he'd run into Elain's former betrothed. And managed to leave the human lord breathing.

The corded muscle of his forearm shifted beneath the fine silk of his sapphire jacket.

"He is a good male", I repeated.

He raised his fist to the door, but the wooden slab pulled away before he could touch it. Lucien’s scarred, handsome face appeared, his golden eye whirring. “I thought I sensed someone else arriving.”

The male had grown up alongside Eris. Had dealt with Eris’s and Beron’s cruelty. Had his lover slaughtered by his own father. But Lucien had learned to keep his cool.

He had to give Lucien credit: the male was somehow able to move between his three roles—an emissary for the Night Court, ally to Jurian and Vassa, and liaison to Tamlin—and still dress immaculately.

“Easy,” Lucien said. Cassian snarled. “Easy,” Lucien repeated, and flame sizzled in his russet eye. The flame, the surprising dominance within it, hit Cassian like a stone to the head, knocking him from his need to kill and kill and kill whatever might threaten—

“No. But we need to summon Lucien,” Azriel said, just a shade tightly, as if he didn’t like it one bit. “We need to tell him the news, and permanently station him at the Spring Court to contain any damage and to be our eyes and ears.”

Cassian’s heart strained at the pain etching deep into Lucien’s face as he tried to hide his disappointment and longing.

281 notes · View notes

popponn · 5 months

Text

coincidences and flickers.

ii - blank papers.

notes: fem!burnout artist!reader x pro-player!isagi yoichi ; pro player / post canon au ; self-depreciating thoughts towards one's own work ; fluff, with slight angst (burnout) with a happy ending (a slight hurt/comfort) ; unreliable narrator. a.n. at the end; f!reader but could be read as gn.

summary: you never thought you would find yourself next to isagi yoichi again. yet, like a deja vu, it happened once more.

prev. ; series masterlist. ; next

Going outside, viewing a bright cheerful day filled with fresh air and sounds of laughter around you, several sayings crossed your mind before you finally stopped yourself upon a cafe. Sitting on one of the bar stools and facing yourself towards the people who passed by you from beyond the window, you sat quietly.

The first comment came from yourself, heavily uttered out in your mind, it said, “Ah. Shit. It’s going nowhere.”

Right in front of you, beside a half-empty cup of coffee, was your opened sketchbook filled with unfinished scribbles all over. In some parts, there were hastily drawn squares that illustrated the canvases you would use for your work. Inside those squares were sketches no longer visible, most of their parts were crossed out almost violently under a tangled mess of scratchy lines. Looking at this without your pencil touching the paper, you just wanted to slump down right on top of the table. Thankfully, however, you still remembered what it meant to be appropriate in the middle of a crowded public place.

The second was not quite a comment, actually. It was part of an old professor’s lecture from your student days, a memory that had aged by a few years already. It was said in an empty hall that would soon be used to exhibit students’ works within a few months, right in front of said students. Your professor resembled a smirking, merciless wolf ready to ruin and devour as he stood upright, dressed in black that was more suitable for a funeral than a class.

“The theme is ‘beauty’. Please remember to make it a worthwhile piece. Of course, how you interpret those themes is up in your decisions and angles,” he said. Somehow, those motivating words felt haunting. You remembered how most students paled as the tongue that had ruined so much self-esteem during its career as both a critique and a teacher went on.

“Feel free to show off with size and numbers as much as your space and creativity allow it. I do have high hopes for each of you. After all, ‘beauty’ is one of the most attractive things for an artist, no?”

—sitting at the cafe, years after graduation and even more after that exhibition, you could hardly remember what you drew. Did that professor also leave a scathing so bad your memory repressed it?

Then, the third comment came in the form of your friend, a few glasses behind from being a blackout drunk, but certainly a few glasses too much to still have a filter placed on his mouth. A thick accent laced his slurred voice as he continued his supposed lecture about art and career. “Don’t you get it?! We are artists, but we are human too! Love what you make everyone!!!” he said passionately while standing on top of the restaurant table half naked, his cartoon t-shirt nowhere in sight.

Everyone, just as drunk or a bit less, cheered and agreed with him simultaneously. The stench of fellow art graduates and victims of capitalism’s passions, or perhaps repressed stress, filled the room. From your seat, as the unfortunate yet responsible sober friend of that night’s reunion—chosen via a rigged game of rock paper scissors—could only watch in amusement. Shouting again, your friend stated, “Art is rooted in our emotions as a human! It’s the heart—the heart! Don’t forget that! Express yourself!!!”

Afterward, it spiraled down into even more of a jumbled oration that you couldn’t quite remember. But, certainly, you would wonder if your current self was the one seated there that night. What would this version of you think of those sentences?

Your answer came immediately in the form of a scoff that escaped your mouth bitterly.

“Beautiful things, love, and emotion… huh?” you repeated while staring down at your sketchbook once again. Letting go of your pencil, you buried your face in your palms,“…what am I doing right now then?”

Is there a point for an ‘artist’ who felt nothing when doing something they were supposed to feel so much emotion for?

Is it even okay for someone to make something even when it is not even worthwhile?

“Ugh,” you groaned hoarsely into your hand. Lifting up your face you heaved out one long sigh. As of the moment, you should try again to brainstorm a concept for the needed pieces. Also, you still had illustration work to do. There was no time to whine and feel down. It felt immature, truthfully.

You glared down at the messy, filled-up page of yours. This was the product of your choice, so you had to go on. If the worst comes to worst, you would just consult your client and draw it out as needed. It felt almost like a chokehold that dug itself right inside your trachea, but you reminded yourself once again. “It is work,” you whispered to yourself, “you just have to—”

“Excuse me,” a voice stopped your mutterings right on its track, asking, “is this seat taken?”

You spared a second to berate yourself, once again reminding yourself you were in public that going out was probably the wrong choice for that moment. Then, you faced to your right, answering the voice with a smile, “It is not, please feel free—”

Then, in a manner of a dramatic deja vu, you found the very familiar face of Isagi Yoichi, dressed in casual boyish clothing, right next to you. He paused as he too realized who you were, freezing just as he was about to sit on the stool beside you with a cup of cold drink in his hand.

“Ah.”

“Oh.”

Like a pair of two surprised barely-acquaintances you were, you and Isagi stared at each other in a mix of surprise and recognition. His eyes looked a few shades darker under the shadow of his black cap, however, through tresses that peeked out from under there, you noticed how the bluish tone of his hair got accentuated even further. Dressed in a casual white sweater and grey pants, those hues of his stood out even further.

He looked slightly different compared to the man you met that night, shying away from the party and leaning against the wall. But, even more so, he looked different from the ‘him’ you viewed through the screen three days ago.

A player who truly deserved the titles of ‘Ace’ and ‘Star’ in his name. Someone who without a doubt carried so much passion for what he loves that it couldn’t help but steal your breath away for numerous reasons. It was hilarious in a way, how replaying that one of many matches where Isagi Yoichi played–out of curiosity and a slight remembrance of his name–ended up with your heart thumping almost wildly in your studio.

It was supposed to be a background voice, yet you watched that match with too much enthusiasm, feeling both envious and wishful every time Isagi Yoichi’s face came onto the screen.

Ah–you took in an inconspicuous deep breath–this is no time to think of some soccer match.

Reverting your focus back to the matter at hand, you silently took comfort in the fact that most customers surrounding you either had their ears plugged or were too into their own conversations to care about two people gawking at each other. Forcing your bewilderment within a tidy gulp, you immediately put on your best pleasantry. “What…a surprise to see you here, Isagi. And as I was saying, it is not occupied. Please feel free to have it.”

Quickly enough, the male in front of you followed your cue. Pulling the chair and sitting himself beside you, Isagi offered you a nod that could pass as a half bow as he greeted you by name. “I, uh… didn't expect to see you here too. It’s nice to see you again!”

You nodded back to him, albeit much more slowly, “Indeed, to think I will be able to meet and converse like this with a national soccer superstar, your fans must be seething.”

Isagi chuckled bashfully at your remark, the tense line on his shoulder loosening, “You talk as if you are no one yourself.”

“Having a few websites and prints displaying my name is certainly incomparable to you, please,” you shrugged, turning in your seat slightly to find a more comfortable position to converse with him, “though I am honored to have you know me.”

“Well, I did end up finding out a bit more about you after that party…” Isagi said as put down his iced drink. An iced tea of some kind, if its color was any indication. While your attention shifted slightly towards his drink, Isagi continued a tad bit too miserably, “…but to think you listen to my comments about your painting like that…”

Isagi’s smile crooked ever so slightly, a teasing tone mingled with one that said ‘How could you?’ as light as it should be for a small talk poking. You raised both of your eyebrows as a reply, smiling, “In my defense, you didn’t ask.”

“Hey, I think I did,” Isagi took a sip from his drink. His right cheek twitched. “I definitely did and you just answered vaguely.”

“Then, you probably asked just as vaguely,” you covered your grin with your hand, poorly playing up a faux misery to cover up your growing mirth, “after all, there is no way for a mere painter and illustrator like me to just brag in front of you, Ace Striker.”

“You are…” taking notice of your insistence, Isagi gave up with a sigh. Then, staring at his drink as if he was remembering that party, he continued, “Still that night…”

Hearing him trailing off, you too recalled the condemning comments you spat out that night. “I was… truthfully I just had some shame with that piece of mine. Pardon my manner,” you reasoned, truthfully unsure of how much of it was true.

“Ah, no, I don’t mean it like that, I mean!” Isagi hurriedly added, “I mean, yeah, that happened, but if I know it was your painting…”

Isagi seemed to hesitate to continue his words. You did wonder on what he wanted to say, but letting an awkwardness rise when the both of you still clearly wanted to sit in this spot would be in poor taste. Brushing it off with a wave, you attempted to finish the topic at hand with a good note. “As they say, what happened, happened. So, putting all those aside,” you turned your face fully towards Isagi, starting the conversation from the top once again. “What brings you here?”

If Isagi did notice the shift in conversation, he certainly didn’t bother to mask it. His eyes stayed on you for a moment, but after a brief, nearly unnoticeable moment of silence, Isagi replied to you as he took off his cap, putting it down on the table, “I, well, taking a drink, I guess? I’m supposed to meet up with a friend but…”

As your company furrowed his eyebrows despite holding his smile, you scoffed amiably, leaning your cheek on your palm. “Did they cancel out of the blue?” you asked, out of experience,

“Yeah, his girlfriend and something about an urgent matter,” Isagi said in a way that told you whoever this friend was, it wasn’t exactly a surprising thing for that person to pull. You attempted to cover up your pity at that. Isagi, with hair slightly disheveled by his cap, returned the same question back to you. The forced smile etched on his lips visibly softened as he asked, “How about you, though?”

You took one deep breath as you thought up a response. Answering honestly would just bring the two of you back to the very topic you attempted to run away from–your drawing. But, with a sketchbook being opened in broad daylight like this in front of you, lying would be plain stupid.

You held back a groan. Your headache was probably caused by a rotting mind rather than whatever you thought it was before. This conversation had turned into a devil’s loop.

However, still taking proper manners and such into account, you lightly tapped said sketchbook, “As you can see, work, in a way. I need a change of scenery to try and get new ideas. But, as of now… you could say I’m taking a little break.”

It certainly put so many things mildly, but that answer should do. The last thing you wanted to do would be to express your frustration once again and repeat that night with the same person. Therefore, calling ‘this’ a ‘break’ would suffice.

“Ah, I see,” Isagi’s eyes moved to your sketches. Then, they moved between you and those scribbles a more few times, before with a somewhat timid kind of curiosity, Isagi hummed, “Uh, you don’t have to but… mind if I take a look? At those drawings?”

How you wished you could snap that thing shut and run away.

“Sure,” you pushed it towards him. You hoped your hands didn’t shake. Keeping up your demeanor, you added in a joking manner, “But they are still very messy though–” they are a mess “–I hope you won’t mind.”

“I definitely won’t!” Isagi responded with a grin that carried with it a mysterious confidence. He sounded even more sure than you were. As he flipped the book back to its first page, you immediately bit your tongue. You reminded yourself to appear friendly. “I found some of your work online and I really like them!”

A light flutter touched you upon hearing his praise. It did sound genuine, even if you probably would have thought otherwise. Though, probably, if you looked at your older artworks, you could say that it was made with your whole heart at the very least. Unlike most things you had put out recently.

Idly tracing the pencil you had laid down, you replied, “I’m glad you like them.”

You managed to stop yourself from saying more, somehow, despite the bitter words already hanging at the exit of your mouth. Pushing those words aside, you eventually decided to continue to follow the lines on the pencil’s body once again, feeling the familiar and artificial smoothness on it.

“Woah,” Isagi gaped quietly, turning the pages slowly. You took notice that it was pages of still life studies you did. Just from the number of details on them alone, it was apparent they had been made some long time ago–before the overwhelming weight that made the task of simply opening your sketchbook unpleasant came into your days. There was no way you could muster enough will to put in that much effort.

You stared at those sketches deeply, wondering if you enjoyed making them then. Under your own breath, you murmured, ”Those stuffs, eh…”

“You really are amazing…” Isagi praises easily as he continues to flip through the pages, mouth agape slightly as if your drawings truly were masterpieces. “You are so good.”

Truthfully, the more praise you heard, the more you wondered how you should react. Donning on faux gratitude and humor felt wrong. It truly did lighten your heart to hear it. Hearing that someone spared even a second to appreciate something you make has always been nice. But, even so–

Those drawings were from a time when drawing was easy and filled with love. The you who had walked past that time and looked back at it with nothing but envy had no right to accept those praises. In a way, perhaps you never did deserve those praises.

Many people deserve that title of a ‘pro’ more. They who draw better than you could ever hope to be, they who love drawing much more deeply than you.

You, who dared to say you were in love with your craft once before falling silent this soon–

You have no right to accept those words.

Your fingers drew to a pause, you put a second of consideration before deciding to put that pencil back into your back. “You praise me too much,” you replied, thankful for his kind words nonetheless. However, still unwilling to dwell too much on your drawing, you tried to shift the focus towards Isagi once again, “Also, I’m a bit curious, but do you mind if I ask something?”

“Hm?” Isagi’s head lifted up slightly, removing his attention from your sketchbook for a moment. “Sure, I think. What is it?”

“I thought soccer practice is an everyday thing for pros like you. Are you on break?” you asked casually.

“You could say that,” Isagi said, “two weeks off for a bit before we go back to the usual.”

“I see…” you noted down. Then, the memory of a video you watched a few days ago came to the surface of your mind for the second time. It was a video you played to fill the background silence at your studio, however the cheers of crowds and the close-ups of Isagi Yoichi’s face were played enough times to have an impression of their own. “Still, seeing how hotblooded and passionate you are on the field, I would have thought you would be practicing alone instead of drinking coffee…”

“Wha–” Isagi, unexpectedly, spluttered at your sudden statement.

You blinked. Your hand flew to cover your mouth the moment you realized what you just muttered out loud, “Oh my–I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude–”

“No, no! It’s fine!” Isagi shook both of his hands quickly. The two of you truly were lucky that no one paid attention to your interactions or it would be embarrassing–you noted, your face turning as if you just sucked on something sour. “I mean, I usually kind of do? It’s just, a break is necessary sometimes, you know–those stuffs. And really, it just surprised me for you to say that out of the blue so…aha ha ha…”

As the blue-haired male laughed bashfully, you couldn’t help but to follow it with a hesitant guffaw of your own. Letting the sudden jolt between the two of you dissipate, you soon added, “I truly do mean it as praise, though. Even someone who doesn’t know anything about soccer like me couldn’t help but admire you when you play.”

While you were very much aware of how you worded it out like mere flattery, you truly did mean every bit of your word. Even through a screen, watching a play of something that felt worlds away from yours, seeing someone putting on such a wide victorious grin and focused gaze was a ‘something’. Three days ago, seeing that replay in the silence of your own room, sitting right in front of a blank canvas, it truly was a sight.

“Your dedication and such… I will call you a talented genius, but it was definitely more than that…” you vividly remembered how his eyes shone within those footages. Even outside of the field, the glint that stole your breath that day still held itself across his blue eyes that were right in front of you. “...you are a sight to behold, Isagi Yoichi.”

Isagi’s mouth hung open. Nervously, he rubbed the back of his neck as it morphed into a bright smile–boyish, bashful, yet full of pride that you had come to associate with him after watching that match. And, you supposed, after watching the proof of his hard work, he truly deserved to feel that pride.

“Thanks,” Isagi said, saying your name quietly in gratitude. His eyes escaped towards your sketchbook for a moment, “I think I could say the same about you too, though, you know.”

You blinked. “...Huh?”

“That painting that night and all these sketches,” Isagi continued to flip through the sketchbook, finally arriving on the messiest page of all, yet still looking at it as if it was worthy of something beyond a series of unfinished scribbles and less, “I’m no expert at paintings and drawings too, but I could feel how much of your heart and seriousness you put in it.”

“... is… that so…?” you did not expect to hear such praise. Was it a praise?

Was trying to put your all enough when it amounted to nothing eventually?

When it turned out to be meaningless and–

“Your drawings–” Isagi faced towards you, leaning forward slightly as his eyes crescented, a genuine and sincere glimmer still carrying itself in them, “–I really like them!”

For once, you stilled as you listened to Isagi Yoichi’s compliment.

It was simple and, undoubtedly, very subjective. There was no praise on how he understood it nor on how he thought everything came together. You wondered if this was because you hadn’t heard or tried to seek any opinion of your drawings for a while. Or perhaps it was because you drowned every single one of them with your own comparison and sentiments. You couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was. However, you knew that it stilled you because–

It was simply an ‘I like them’.

For once, however, you couldn’t feel any disgust towards yourself or your drawings coming up. Your brain couldn’t come up with any reason or anything–it stayed silent, as you could only nod and utter out a quiet acceptance. When push comes to shove, who were you to discredit a feeling of ‘liking’?

“...thank you, Isagi,” you nod, looking away back to the window across you with a smile you knew was too shaky and big, feeling lightheaded and flustered, “I’m glad you like them.”

The cafe was bustling and Isagi had returned to your drawings, smiling even as he replied to you with a relaxed manner, “Same to you!”

Yet again, you found yourself unable to reply to that. Letting the conversation died there somehow felt right, oddly enough. Your shoulder relaxed as you took a deep breath once more. In the back of your mind, the grating weight was still there and you knew it would come back much sooner than you hoped it to be. But, for that moment, it was enough.

Sitting next to Isagi Yoichi–whose fervor had gained your respect–who praised you with such sincerity, it was enough for you to think that at that very moment–

It is okay for you to draw, despite everything.

Isagi turned to the next page as you stayed silent, finding yourself only being able to stare blankly at the air between the two of you. “Ah,” Isagi came to a pair of blank pages, clean and unblemished by anything.

“It seems you reached the end, Isagi,” you lightly said, offering a hand to take back the book.

“Yeah,” Isagi closed it and took it to your hand with a satisfied look, “thanks! It was great!”

“...you really praise me too much,” you repeated once more, this time acknowledging how it felt lighter to say it. “However, thank you. I’m glad you like those studies and idea roughs.”

“...studies…? …roughs?” a pair of blue eyes looked at you in confusion, the owner clearly blurting those words out of question and unfamiliarity.

You couldn’t help but to laugh at that, “The drawings you have seen. They are studies and roughs. An observation drawn on paper and… a messy note of ideas in drawing form, I suppose.”

“Oh–I see, I think I got it!” Isagi said, brightly in understanding, before then shifting slightly in his seat and taking a sip from his drink. “I never heard of those terms before–or maybe I just forgot it after high school, haha…”

You chuckled in sympathy. “It’s okay. I barely remember any rules of soccer either. I do know you can’t use your hand unless you are a goalkeeper, but other than that, I don’t think I even know what offside is.”

With faces turned towards each other, you could clearly see Isagi’s eye crinkling in humor. It was a good look on him, you noted. The lines of laughter on someone’s face always have their own charm visually, you know after all these years, however, it truly suits his face.

“Then, should I tell you?” Isagi offered, quiet rhetorically as he didn’t miss a bit to continue, “So, basically it’s–”

VRRRRT–

Which he would if it wasn’t for the sudden sound of vibration coming from his pocket. Both you and Isagi glanced down. Isagi made an apologetic face that was jumbled along with a grimace and a subtle irritation, earning a nod and an amused smile from you.

Another deja vu. It seemed like that this meeting would end soon too, you thought silently, vacantly looking at the empty pages in your hand. It didn’t feel good. The empty pang where you knew excitement should thrum was still very much there. It still felt like a hole that was simply there to make you suffer.

But, for once, it didn’t feel as terrible as it usually was–you noted. Perhaps, you could fill those pages with something ‘likable’ soon enough.

“Hey, yeah. It’s me. What is it, man?” Isagi picked up the phone with a tone much more casual than the one he used with you. A bit rougher and clearly more impolite too, you realized. “Huh? What–suddenly? Dude. Come on you just dipped out on me–you can’t just–”

You looked away as Isagi seemed to get exasperated not long into the phone call. Remembering your empty cup of coffee, you wondered if you should order another drink or perhaps move on, either back home or somewhere for dinner. You would definitely have to turn back to your work, though, either way. Your teeth felt like biting your tongue ever so slightly at that reminder, though you probably should indeed go home.

However, before that, you did feel like you had to do something beforehand.

Peering over at the phone Isagi’s hand, you wondered how should you go over it.

“Um,” Isagi called out your name, breaking your trance, wearing a description of ‘feeling bad’ on the scrunch of his face, “I’m sorry but that friend of mine…uh, he kinda turns back with his girlfriend and needs me, so…”

“Take it easy, it’s okay,” you hummed in understanding. Isagi wore an obvious guilt on his face still, however, so you added, “Really. While I do pity that I won’t get an explanation from Master Ace Striker himself, I was grateful for our chat. Thank you for humoring me.”

He chuckled at that, “Come on, no need to be that formal. I enjoyed it all too–oh. Wait.”

As Isagi cut himself short, quickly clicking through his phone, you let him be for a moment. You took the chance to put your sketchbook in your bag and scanned over the table for any of your belongings left. From the corner of your eye, you saw a quirk placing itself on Isagi’s lips.

“But, since we already looked each other up,” relaxed and friendly he offered his phone to you, unlocked and displaying the contact screen, Isagi did what you felt like you should do in your stead. “Mind exchanging our number so I can explain about ‘offsides’ and other rules to you through text?”

You were very glad your head had cooled down, or it would be terrible. Is Isagi the friendly oblivious type who doesn’t realize this sort of thing could be translated as flirting? Or it is? Or perhaps, you were simply getting too many things over your head after a few praises.

“Sure, I was about to ask you for the same thing,” you took his offer gladly, admitting your prior intent easily. Accepting his phone, you punched your number in and quickly returned it. “I will look forward to that offside explanation and the other kinds of stuff too.”

“Yeah, yeah. Explain some art stuff to me too later, ‘kay?”

“Oh. An exchange of information? How transactional.”

“I don’t mean it like that! But… yeah?”

The two of you emitted a simultaneous small laugh, for some reason. Quieting the tickle in your mouth, you shook your head, “I’m joking. I will look forward to another talk with you. It was insightful.”

Isagi’s lips turned into a shape that spelled out amusement in its equal crooked and wry curve. However, just right before he was about to open his mouth, his smile slipped along with the resounding vibration from the device in his hand. Isagi let his mouth hang open for a moment, before finally grimacing, “...well, I should go.”

Never taking your eyes off him as Isagi stepped off his stool, you nodded. “You should. I will be off soon too. Be careful and good evening, Isagi.”

“Then… good evening to you too,” Isagi said as he took backward steps towards the exit, confident and controlled enough as if he could see what was behind him clearly, “I’ll see you around.”

You raised a little wave that was more of a jest than anything, bidding him a farewell, “See you.”

And with that, Isagi turned around swiftly, a slight bounce pushing his first step forward as he went for the door. You were about to take your eyes off him right as he stopped in his rush all of a sudden, turning towards you once again.

“Oh, also–” Isagi said, a bit louder and ignorant to a few glances thrown his way, “–good luck with the idea hunting. Don’t push yourself too hard, ‘kay?”

prev. ; series masterlist. ; next

a.n.: and the second chapter is done!!! it definitely took longer than i thought, haha. maybe i should publish the outtakes for giggles hoho;;; but things are finally moving and looking up. and as a disclaimer, i want to remind you that everyone's burnout is different & this fic will never be the perfect portrayal of those experiences. but, if you are in a slump or a burnout, i wish you a good time soon :3 thank you for @doobea for beta reading this too ;;; this thing wouldn't end up being as coherent as it is without u ily;;;; all in all, i hope you enjoyed this chapter :> please do look forward to the next one, i will look forward to any kinds of feedback & thoughts u may have hehe <3 once again, thank you for reading!

taglist: @doobea @mariyumemi @intheewrld @lazysublimeengineer @coquettemaiden @kreishin @yoisami @takotakigum @themigrainegirll **bolded and italicized means i cannot tag you. please do contact me in case you want to be added or taken out of the taglist :>

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joyswonderland1108 · 7 months

Text

JK deserves better.

I can't believe i keep on coming back to talk about shitty subjects because this damn fandom can't give the boys a rest.

Feel free to disagree, feel free to fucking block me if you do strongly disagree but a gentle reminder, i am here for the tannies and the tannies only. With that being said, FUCK , and i mean this with all disrespect, them JK solos. Fuck all solos but this post is about JK so imma focus on what is going on.

Honestly i have a lot of shit to say but so little organisation in my head that this post might end up becoming a whole ass mess but bear with me. Now if you really do love JK this post will make a lot of sense for you.

Do i start off again by talking about the "world tour" rumors? Yes, let's do that.

World Tour

I guess i've already mentioned this in previous posts but i also want to add a small detail that JK himself talked about. I feel like there's this obsession with JK doing a world tour that is turning into an entitlement uncaring about JK really.. Army want JK to do a world tour, JK himself talked about it, said many times before that if he was to do a world tour it wouldn't be now, not enough songs, not enough time, he also talked not ONCE not TWICE about wanting to reunite with the boys in 2025.

Now the other detail that i wanted to add was the pressure, whether you like it or not, JK WAS pressured, he was supposed to release an EP but somehow in the process he was pressured to take more and that boy had to fucking record 5 songs in the span of a week, he also had a very condensed time frame to get everything ready to release a full length album, well what turned out to be a full length album. We've all seen it, his schedules were hectic AF to the point where JK looked sick at times in the airport, that boy was so fucking tired, Jimin also expressed concern over his health, and who are we to know better than them? The boys see him and know about him more than we will ever do and even they saw how it was fucking tiring for him.

In Suchwita JK mentioned that while yes a world tour is great but FOR NOW he wants to wrap it up with music shows (You'll have to excuse me i'm a whole mess so i'm not sure where to look for ss of exact moments i'm talking about my files are all messy but you know what i'm talking about.. hopefully) Now.. If and i say IF somehow there is a world tour announcement just know that this is part of the whole pressure. I don't even know how to explain it but if JK was pressured into releasing a full length album when he himself said WAY BEFORE that it would be an EP, then don't be surprised that he'd be pressured to do that damn world tour cause some ARMY can't shut the fuck up for the life of them.

Y'all seem to not give two fucks about this man's health, a world tour means even more hectic schedules for JK, instead of wanting that man to fucking rest, get healthy again, and actually wait for him, give him time to be ready physically and mentally, y'all want to rush him into giving you everything all at once because of your own enjoyment forgetting that he is not a machine, that he is a human being that is bound to break at some point.

You would think that after seeing how Yoongi looked tired af during his tour these people would have mercy on JK but no. And whether we like it or not, JK will have to enlist too and at the very least he should be well rested before starting his MS, burning him out and making him overwork himself just for him to have to do his military service next is actually cruel but let me guess, Army don't give a fuck about this now do they? They're still keeping in mind that baseless theory about JK enlisting way later.

Which takes us to the second point, MS.

Military Service

Just how many fucking times does JK have to tell y'all that he WANTS to reunite with the boys in 2025 for y'all to fucking understand that this is not about YOU it's about JK and his willingness to be with the other members. People just don't seem to realize how freeing it is to put MS behind your back, it's not just for Queer people, even if you're straight MS is very restricting for you so why on earth would JK want to be bound by a restriction for even longer?

And let's just go by these solos logic, JK is still young and doesn't have to enlist now, okay. By the time all the members will be done with their MS, JK will be of an age where he won't be able to postpone his anymore, and the result? All 6 members will be out ready to resume their group activities BUT JK. And then everybody will complain "How dare they resume their activities without their golden maknae" or they'll have to yet again set a hiatus and i don't think a hiatus is the first thing a group is looking for after their MS, a hiatus is the very last thing they think about when planning for a come back after MS.

I don't know if people see any logic in their very selfish thinking or..? Like please, do y'all even listen to JK? Do his words to you mean nothing? Is he just talking in an empty barrel? He has been telling us, not anyone else but US, he wants US to understand but somehow some people just can't seem to grasp at the reality of things. Is it that hard to support him on what he wants?

Moving on to the third point, and again i believe i did talk about this in a previous post or posts too but, those very disgusting song interpretations that for some damn reason is always coming from the hets (with all due respect to the respectful hets out there)

Song Interpretations

When he told Zane that the songs didn't reflect his real life i was wondering.. Did he perhaps see all those disgusting and disturbing interpretations of his previous songs aka Seven and 3D by het Army on Tiktok? It really had me thinking whether he just wanted to mention that because.. or did he really see those damned interpretations and he felt the need to put that in there just in case.

I mean when JK decided to show a more mature side of him, i'm pretty sure his intentions weren't for us to see him as your typical het fuckboy and exactly how is someone singing about sex making him a fuckboy? Since when does having a sex life makes you a fuckboy? Can't people committed to one person not have a sex life or..? Why does this boys always have to come here to clarify things?

Like can't y'all just be normal and at the very least do cute and funny interpretations instead of making it absolutely horrifying and i'm not even going to talk again about the photocards during Music Bank that fucking Tiktok Army gave a vile interpretation to..

The thing is, it doesn't stop at just ARMY there are other people who are as disgusting as some Army really.. Which takes me to my last point and i'm not even gonna say much about it cause this is worthy of a whole ass post that honestly i don't feel too much dedication for to make..

The Acquaintances

Do i have to say again that i'm here for the tannies and the tannies only? Well not just me but many of us are actually, so can some of you PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!!! Stop hyping up every single person that in a way or another has had a connection to the boys?

Seeing a damn journalist ditch professionalism and acting like a 12yo stan in the name of JK is just so.. WTF? You know things? Good for you but how about you shut the fuck up and let JK or the company do the announcement. I'm tired of seeing JK come to us everytime looking disappointed that we already know about what he might've been excited to announce to us HIMSELF. It's just so sad to see him go like "Oh i guess you already know.." Like.. No baby we do not please tell us, like PLEASE stop taking the excitement away from him, i would absolutely hate it to want to announce something related to ME just for a damn stranger to do it in my place.

You got the opportunity to work with JK, or as a professional to know things about JK? Amazing! Good for you, but please, it is not your place to be acting like those fake tea accounts on the tl.. Keep it to yourself or at the very least make one good post about it and shut the fucking fuck up until whatever is supposed to come out does then you can hype it up all you want.

Same for anyone who is working with JK, y'all need to stop giving them too much clout because the moment they end up being problematic, know that it is your own damn fault that haters end up coming for JK because y'all can't seem to put a difference between JK and the people who work with him, you always link them together and put them in the same box which ends up being a green light for haters to lump him into the same category as those problematic people.

Yes it is decent to have respect for the people working with the tannies as long as they do deserve that respect, once they show their true colors we do NOT have to keep that respect, now i'm not saying we should fight them but simply there is no need to hype them up. JK is not the people who are working with him and the people who are working with JK are not JK. Stop putting a label on what are those people to JK, Scooter is a whole ass dick but just because he is involved in JK's album it doesn't mean JK is the same as him, this and that are two different things and same for any single person who is working with any member.

We do not have to bootlick people just because they are working with BTS because i repeat the moment these people show their true colors it becomes a whole mess and our boys end up being dragged into a hell fest of hate, UNPROVOKED.

With that being said, please have some respect for JK, hype HIM up, show HIM support and please respect his own decisions, HIS DECISIONS, not someone else's but his.

AND STREAM GOLDEN!!!

#Nothing but love to JUNGKOOK #Golden boy JK

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sentientgolfball · 9 months

Note

Hello! I have a writing request! Can you write a Polyghoul x reader where reader has horrendous eyesight and is night blind? Just something fluffy if you have time. I appreciate you!

And I appreciate YOU anon <3 you can also very much see my Phantom obsession in this

Tags: none! Just so much fluff

My requests are open !

You cursed under your breath when you opened the door to the hallway. You hadn’t realized just how long you had been cleaning, but now that the only thing you could see was a pitch-black void you figured too long. You, of course, didn’t have any source of light on you. You didn’t think you would need it. You’ve never left a shift after the sun went down and all the main lights had been put out. Tonight had been different, though. The kitchen was already a mess when you arrived for the dinner shift. Apparently, something had happened with the originally planned meal and now the head Siblings had to scramble for a replacement. You didn’t pay that close attention to the details of it all as you were put straight to work the moment you crossed the threshold. Dinner ended up being presented late which led to a stern talking to from Sister Imperator, and then after all that you still had to do the dishes and clean any messes. Since you were the least experienced in kitchen duty, you always got stuck with the cleanup. You didn’t mind too much, though, because it got you some alone time. But now you were seriously questioning your choices.

Okay…it’s not too far to my room. It’s gotta be muscle memory by now right? You take a deep breath and shrug to yourself fuck it.

You place your hand on the cold stone of the wall and begin to walk to the left. You get the feeling that you’ve been walking far enough and decide to turn the next time the wall gives way to an opening. You walk a bit farther before you feel a wall in front of you. You reach out expecting to feel the doorknob, but when your hand just meets more stone you pause.

Uh oh.

You began to frantically feel around hoping a door would magically appear if you just kept looking. The longer you went without a door popping into existence you felt your stomach drop. You were lost. You couldn’t see and you were lost. You tried to keep calm, knowing that if you panicked it would only make things worse. You found the wall again and began retracing your steps to the best of your ability. Maybe it was the fact that your anxiety was rising, but the longer you walked the more you felt like someone was watching you. You tried to ignore it, it wouldn’t be surprising.

Of course there were other people around. It's a satanic abbey for Lucifer’s sake.

You tried to rationalize with yourself despite walking just a bit faster now. That’s when you had a second realization. You should’ve passed an opening a few steps ago. Shit. Now you really had no idea where you were.

The panic had closed in at this point. You leaned heavily against the wall too freaked to continue trying to find your way. You stayed like that for a few minutes trying to will your breathing to even out before you saw it. A faint purple glow illuminated the end of the hallway. When it realized you had noticed it there was a small flash before it was right in front of you. Now that it was near, you were able to tell that the source of it was one of Papa Copia’s ghouls. Phantom. You remember overhearing some older Siblings talking about a newer ghoul with that name.

“Why are you on the floor? Did you lose your game?” There was no malice in his voice, just genuine curiosity.

You looked up at him despite only really being able to make out the purple light coming from his eyes.

“Game? What game?”

“I saw you walk in a circle like three times…are you not playing some strange human game…?” He tilted his head as he spoke

“You watched me walk around lost in the middle of the night and didn’t think to say anything” you snap at the ghoul. There’s a moment of awkward silence before you hear a small whine and a mumbled apology. You sigh heavily feeling a bit guilty about yelling at him.

“No, it’s fine. I mean it’s not fine I really was…am lost, but I didn’t need to yell at you.”

“Where you trying to go?”

“I just want to go back to my room and sleep. I’ve had a long and stressful day and getting lost in this gigantic labyrinth of a place only made it worse.”

“Let me help!”

You’re a bit shocked at his immediate willingness. You haven’t had many interactions with ghouls in your short time as a Sibling of Sin, but you assumed demons from Hell wouldn’t be so eager to go out of their way to help. You were honestly half expecting to have to bargain or beg with him. You don’t dwell on it for too long, though. You reach your hand out in the direction of the purple dots of light and hope he gets the message. He hear a noise you can only assume means happiness as you feel a clawed hand grab yours before you’re rather unceremoniously yanked to your feet. You almost crash into him as you find your footing.

He keeps your hand in his and his tail wrapped around your arm as you two walk.

He fills the quiet night by going on and on about what he was doing prior to watching you. He talked a bit too fast and too much for you to totally understand what he was saying despite listening in earnest. The only thing you really got was that he found a bat colony in an old bell tower during his first week on Earth and that he was so fascinated with them that every night he goes to visit them and watch them fly around. Eventually, he comes to a stop. You get a strange feeling as you physically feel his excitement grow. For a moment, the hall is cast in purple light as the Lichtenberg figure scars on the left side of his body pulse with quintessence, confirming your suspicions.

He coughs “Sorry. Can’t always control it when I get excited.”

It was only then that you realized you must’ve been making a face. You let your muscles relax.

“No it’s not that I’m just…confused. How did you know where my room is?”

“Oh! Good question! I don’t!”

You blink slowly at him “Then where are we?”

His only response is a laugh as he throws open the door in front of you two. You have to shield your eyes for a moment from the sudden burst of blinding lights.

“I’m right on time! I hope you guys don’t mind that I brought a guest.”

You rub your eyes and slowly crack them open only to be met with nine pairs of various colored eyes staring right at you.

The ghoul den. He brought me to the ghoul den.

You felt like you were ready to pass out as he closed the door and guided you to one of the couches where he plopped down right next to you.

“If you’re going to have sex with your guest at least wait until after the movie. It’s my turn to pick.” A gigantic green ghoul commented from where he was hunched over searching through a box.

“You don’t have to worry about that big guy, nobody is going to get hard from a nature documentary. Well unless it's about the ocean then maybe Wet Boy will—OW motherfucker.” You watched the water ghoul elbow who you knew to be Dew hard in the ribs before turning towards Phantom.

“Hey uh, I really don’t mean to intrude. You can just give me a flashlight or a candle or something and I can find my own way back.”

“Aw come on most of us don’t bite.” The ghoulette seated on the other side of Phantom craned her neck to look at you.

“Don’t listen to Sunny she’s one of us who does bite.” The earth ghoul stated as he was putting his pick into the DVD player. The ghoulette just shrugged with a smile and small nod.

Phantom looked at you with a bit of concern, but mostly amusement “Nope. Not happening. You already got lost once. Besides, I owe it to you for not helping sooner.”

He curled around you and started to purr and oh that was very comfortable. Any protests you had died the moment he did so. The grin on his face told you he knew exactly what he was doing. It was endearing if you were being honest with yourself. You reached up and scratched his scalp being sure to avoid his horns. You laughed when you heard his tail beat against the couch.

Everyone got comfortable as the movie began which, as Dew said, ended up being a nature documentary. You were thankful that someone turned the lights off, even with the glow of the TV it was too dark for you to see any of the ghouls. It made you feel a bit more relaxed. As the narrator droned on you began to feel the heaviness from the day seep into every bone in your body. You were half asleep when you heard Phantom again.

“Pssst hey come here you’ll love this.”

You didn’t really get the chance to respond before he pulled you from the couch and onto the floor. You were confused. You were even more confused when you suddenly felt multiple bodies.

“Glad you could join us doll.” You heard a voice say right by your ear. You shifted and were met with a fang-filled grin.

“Swiss don’t be scary.” Phantom whispered as he curled in next to you.

“Scary?” He sounded genuinely confused. He was going to respond but shut up when a tail smacked him.

You were a little freaked out, to say the least, but when the purring of multiple ghouls started to pick up you settled into what you can only describe as a ghoul pile. The warmth of the bodies coupled with the dark room lulled you into a very comfortable sleep.

You were awoken the next morning to the smell of a divine-looking breakfast being prepared by the multi-ghoul who you learned was called Swiss. You offered to help him, feeling a bit awkward being dumped into the ghoul’s daily routine but he just shushed you, slid you one of the prepared plates, and made a sly remark about kissing the cook before turning his attention back to his eggs. You watched as the rest of the pack began to slowly wake up and shuffle to the kitchen area. You anxiously waited for Phantom to join since he was the one who brought you here in the first place.

“Don’t get your hopes up, he sleeps later than any of us,” Another rather large-looking quintessence ghoul said with a small chuckle “But really, it’s okay that you’re here. Nobody is going to kick you out. We actually enjoy it when the Siblings decide the best stress relief is hanging out with us.” His eyes spark purple for a brief moment. That’s when you remember what you were told about ghouls and elements. Quintessence can sense emotions.

Wait does that mean?

You look up from your plate and meet the large ghoul’s eyes. He smiles and nods in confirmation as if he could hear your question. You suddenly get a bit embarrassed over the fact Phantom could totally tell you were on the verge of a mental breakdown when he found you. But you were also warmed. He brought you back to the den to make you feel better. You smiled into your mug as you took a sip.

When Phantom did wake up, the rest of the ghouls had already eaten and properly introduced themselves to you. He sat down in an open chair next to you with a yawn, slowly blinking. He started to stuff his face full of food before he made a choked oh! sound and looked at you.

“How’d you get lost anyway? I know all the lamps were turned out, but the candles were still lit.” You felt a bit flustered that Phantom just announced to the whole room the events of last night, but you cleared your throat and answered him.

“My eyesight is really bad. It’s even worse in the dark. If there’s not enough light I can’t see a thing, even if it’s dim light.”

“I thought all humans had shit eyes.” there was no malice in Dew’s voice. He said it more like a fact than anything.

“Mine is like infinitely worse I can assure you.”

He made a small hm noise and shrugged before drinking more of his coffee. You smiled when you realized just how little the ghouls must actually understand about humans.

You helped with the cleanup despite Swiss protesting at least a hundred times before bidding farewell to everyone. You went about your day as normal, smiling and waving whenever you crossed paths with a ghoul. Dinner rolled around and this time, thank Satan, there were no major issues. You were able to finish the clean-up right on time. You put away the last of the dishes and made your way out of the kitchen only to be met with Cumulus. She smiled softly and greeted you with a “Hi baby” and asked you about your day. You were a little confused but you welcomed the company as you walked with her to your room. When you arrived she gave you a hug and a kiss on the cheek before wishing you a good night. You cocked your head at her disappearing form with a smile and laughed to yourself.

This pattern continued all week. Then all month. And the next one. You would finish a shift and a ghoul or two or three would be waiting for you. They’d talk with you and walk you back to your room, or on rather rough days, invite you to the den. Even on the days, you didn’t work, they’d come to find you just as the sun was setting to see if you needed anything or if you wanted to join them for the night. At first, you felt a little overwhelmed by their near-constant presence, but after a while, it was the highlight of your day to see which ghoul would be randomly showing up no matter where you were in the Ministry.

#the band ghost #ghost bc #nameless ghouls #polyghouls #nameless ghoul x reader #i hope you like it anon <3 #golfball writes

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anemonelovesfiction · 11 months

Text

Fated Mates 2

Ao’nung x fem! Human reader

Warnings ⚠️: Sex, p in v, fingering (bc Ao’s fingers make me drool), obviously these characters are aged tf up

Y’all I included a little tradition within a marriage ceremony (not Ao & Y/n) please someone tell me if its cute bc I thought it was but now idk, I need like hella reassurance for my skxawng ass.

As always, English text is stricken through, except a blurb where I wrote a note bc there is too much English and I refused to strike through a large some of text

I did make a tag list, but personally I don’t think it’s my forte so I don’t believe I’ll be doing it again, I hope y’all can understand🥺

Tag List 🏷️ @shit-i-say-shit-i-think @universal-s1ut @lili-flower03 @deadpool15

Translation Station

Ma’Sempul: My father

Ma’itan: My son

Tawtute: Sky Person (used as “human”)

Tsahik: Spirtual healer

Tsakarem: Tsahik in training

Kinä: Seven (7)

Tìyawn: Love (or “My Love”)

Oel ngati kameie: I see you

Tewng: Loincloth

Yawne: Beloved

Skxawng: Moron

Tsmuke: Sister

Tsmukan: Brother

Sa’nok: Mother

Word count: 7.9K not as long as the other one but still

<<Previous | Next>>

~*~*~*~*~*~*

“How is she?”

“I’m sorry?” I asked confusion evident in my voice and face as he asks me that question, I turn to face my father as he fails at hiding the amused glint in his eye.

“The girl you have spent your nights with for the past month.” He states as a smile breaks out onto his features and I’m a blushing mess. There was no way for me to hide it since my face had already given it away but I tried to move this along smoothly.

“It’s enough that mom knows, now you. Must you ask such private questions?” I groaned internally, the only reason he could be commenting on it had to be because my mother was growing impatient at finding any new information about it.

“Must you always hide everything from us?” He asks

“Ma’Sempul- we’re hunting, is now the time to ask such questions.” I asked.

“I worry about you ma‘itan.” He places a hand on my shoulder before one of the men hiding a ways from us signals at us.

“Thats the signal, lets go,” I broke the conversation short as I dove, my father following behind me.

We’d gotten up extremely early for this hunt to be successful. Quite a few people had gotten married during the last couple weeks and we had the last of the group marrying today. Every day we gathered together, the male of the couple included, to hunt for the feast at our communal dinner, it was the last test that not only could he provide for his mate, but when extreme circumstances arose, he too could prove useful to the clan.

The male of the soon-to-be mated pair had to plan the hunt the day of their union. Plan out where we were to swim, what we were to hunt, and instruct us on skinning the creature and instruct us how to cook it. We prided ourselves in being the providers for our clan and taking care of our mate, the women stayed behind and prepared our work stations once we got back.

It was a beautiful thing to witness a union of two souls, the night was an entire celebration dedicated to them, their friends and family showing their support toward them. I couldn’t wait for Tsireya’s, I’m sure they would make the decision here soon but I wouldn’t know when.

Capturing the beast wasn’t easy, the human boy was assisting as well and proved useful to us. He was great at holding his breath underwater, not as strong as we were, but could definitely hold his own. He, Lo’ak, and Rotxo worked very well together and it prided me knowing that these were the great men who were a part of Y/n’s life.

_________

“Could we talk about something?” Tsireya asks and her face was filled with worry, maybe happiness, confusion? I was usually good at reading her but today I was off.

“That depends, if it’s about Lo’ak, I’d really prefer to not hear it.” Kiri states as she gathers the same sized seashells into a basket. These were going to be used as decoration for tonights union.

“Kiri, stop being rude.” I tease and playfully roll my eyes before turning to the beautiful teal goddess before me

“Is something bothering you?” I asked her as I continued weaving this humongous garment with Tsireya on the other side of it.

They had a tradition where the two stomp on the middle shell, which happened to be the larger one, and however many pieces it broke into represented the two of them as well as the children they were to have. They would then tie their favorite piece of the shell in their song cord, their children's song cord would start with a piece of the broken shell representing both parents becoming one. This garment was going to be thrown around the two who were finalizing their union today as a means to show the clan that they were coming together after they pick their favorite piece and the rest placed in a small container they would take home.

“It’s about Ao’nung,” She bites her lip and apologetically looks at me.

“There must be something interesting for you to want to talk about your brother,” Kiri mentions and I have to force an angry/disgusted look on my face to keep up with the appearance.

“If I could mentally ascend to Eywa right now, I would.” I commented and she smiles while shaking her head to herself.

“Well, he’s been seeing someone recently.” She admits and I fight the urge to freeze, seem curious, or appear affected by her words.

“The sooner he’s out of our hair the better.” I go back to focusing on the weaving and Kiri laughs at that.

“Isn’t that a good thing, ‘Reya?” Kiri asks her and Tsireya looks kind of bothered.

“Oh, sweets, I’m sorry. Don’t take my comments to heart, but it looks like its bothering you, is this a bad thing?” I asked as the small frown had already edged itself into my heart. She shakes her head at my question.

“No, it’s just-“ She sighs and stops weaving, considering this was a two-person job I too had to stop weaving. She lets out a big sigh but still seems saddened.

“You can tell us, we’ll stop being assholes about it.” Kiri speaks up.

“He’s just different is all.” She states and looks like she’s embarrassed for what she said and just about speaks again- more than likely to change the subject.

“Different how?” I ask and she closes her mouth and looks up at me, her eyes very thankful that I’d asked.

“He just seems more patient and kind. His temper isn’t as harsh as it used to be and he is even kinder to the children because of it. I can only assume it has to do with this person he meets up with.”

“But it bothers you?” I asked again and she shakes her head.

“No! This change is good, it is something he needs. But he has yet to share with me and this big secret has been going on for a month. We share everything together and not being let in on this secret makes me feel like he does not trust me.”

“Don’t say that, I’m sure he is just very nervous about it, or maybe this person is very shy? Don’t take it personal, ‘Reya, when he comes home tonight why don’t you ask him about it, if he doesn’t want to share let him know you’re there for him and he will share when he’s ready.” Kiri offers and I look back and smile at her words of wisdom. She always knew what to say to make anybody feel better.

“I am just too nervous to talk with him about it.” Tsireya mentions.

“Hey, remember how nervous you were when you talked to him about Lo’ak?” I asked her and she nodded.

“He might be feeling that same way, but he was supportive- or at least I think he was, because you’re courting Lo’ak now. I’m sure he’s more nervous to tell you than you are of asking him.” I told her and she nods in understanding.

Just then we all hear the sound of the horn signifying the return of the hunters. Tsireya turns and I take advantage of her eyes being off me to scan the crowd for her brother, unable to find him in the massive crowd of teal bodies, although Lo’ak stood out to me and so did Spider. I’m glad I had the weaved garment nearby as soon as Tsireya turns since my eyes looked at my finger positioning at the same time she turned.

“Don’t worry, Y/n, we’re almost done.” She reassures me and I look back up at her, nodding my head as we started weaving once more.

“How long does that usually take?” I asked her.

“It’s tradition for the tsahik to say a few words and bless the union of the pair. Then we celebrate all night with dancing, singing, drinking, it lasts a long time too.”

“How soon do you think they’ll have kids?” I ask in genuine curiosity before feeling Kiri’s lightest swat at the back of my head and Tsireya full on laughing.

“Sorry, I forget tawtute are more invasive than you guys, but I was genuinely curious Kiri, I swear I wasn’t making a joke.” I turned my head toward her as she was squatting behind me finishing separating the shells.

“It depends on them,” Tsireya answered.

_________

Eclipse was quick to come from the moment we’d all finished cooking and getting ready for the union. The couple always had the tsahik speak blessings on them just before eclipse started and once it was over the two would share with the clan the vows they choose to make for their partner.

After the vows are shared, the tsakarem- Tsireya- lays down the garment behind the two and they turn to step on the shell in the middle. At this very moment the two were sharing their vows about their love for each other and I couldn’t help but let my eyes wander over and catch a glimpse of Y/n.

She had one of her hands covering her mouth in awe as her other hand wiped away the tears escaping her eyes. I could see her sniffle a bit to contain herself and Kiri leans over to pat the girls head gently. I couldn’t help but smile at her reaction toward the ceremony and felt my heart swell with pride at the absolute sweet heart she is.

The couple had turned around and broken the shell, Tsireya kneeling on the floor to count the pieces the shell had broken into.

“Kinä!” Tsireya yells as everyone cheers.

Seven, they’re going to have five children between the two, what a blessing! I turned with a slight smile of my own and capture Y/n’s eyes with my own and she lifts her hand to sign a quick Hello. I signed back and she smiles widely.

It doesn’t take long for the singing to begin after they had gathered their shell pieces and everyone stood up. This would be the perfect opportunity to slip away to the woods with Y/n. I capture her eyes once more and cock my head back toward the woods and she nods her head, turning back to pretend to be paying attention to whatever her brother was saying.

I’d started walking away first, knowing she’d have to find her own way out of the conversation she was in. We often did this to prevent anyone from noticing us slipping away together and starting a rumor that would spread faster than whatever rumor was started that morning.

I knew it would probably take a bit for her to come meet me in the clearing so I’d decided to lurk a bit closer toward the edge of the woods to just watch her. Only to flare my nose when I’d noticed Rotxo walk up to her, wondering what in the great mother he thought he was doing. I’d wanted to walk over to her and pick her up and away from his presence but I knew what would happen if I did.

I didn’t need to be upsetting my mother at this moment, not that I would have cared, but she was due to give birth soon. And having my sibling pop out while my mother was stressed wasn’t a good mix. I also didn’t want to embarrass Y/n in front of her family or let her sweet ears listen to whatever kind of messed up comments the clan would have to say. I also don’t want to upstage the happy couple that decided to stay for a while before heading off toward the spirit tree.

I could see Y/n laugh at whatever Rotxo had said and could feel the pure jealousy filling the pit of my stomach. He smiled at her reaction and seemed overall nervous, I was easily angered and my tail swayed furiously. He’d nodded at what she said and headed off before she looked around to make sure nobody was paying attention to her, once she was in the clear she started heading toward the wooded area again, I’d backed off from plain sight and started trudging my way toward the clearing.

I could hear her tiny footsteps walking near the clearing but I had my back turned toward her as I sat with my thoughts and fidgeted with my fingers. I truly did not want to be jealous, but I couldn’t help to feel that way, I had no idea what else to do.

“Guess who!” She had placed her hands over my eyes. She told me a little bit ago that tawtute often did this to one another, what for I can’t say, but it defeats the purpose when I know her smell, her voice, and I could hear her smacking her feet with every step.

“Tìyawn, you scare the sea life within a five mile radius with how loud you walk.” I stated as her arms slip from my sight, my eyes adjusting toward the bioluminescent lights provided by the plants around us, and her pouty face comes around to greet me. I smile softly and reach for her face, pulling her into a sweet short kiss, pulling back from her and staring at her eyes.

“That was mean.” She stated in fake hurt as she crossed her arms next, stomping her feet as she turned around, acting like a child. But I carefully snake my arm around her waist and pull her back toward me, kissing the back of her neck, her resolve crumbling.

“Thats loser talk, little one.” I nuzzle the back of her neck with my nose and she shivers at the touch, her smell was wonderful and it helped calm me down. I took a couple of sniffs before she pulled herself away from me.

“I need to talk to you about something,” She mentioned seriously and it made my heart drop.

“Does it have to do with why Rotxo was all over you?” I asked and felt like kicking myself in the face, she was confused and another emotion settled onto her features, but I couldn’t pinpoint what.

“Where you watching me?” She asks with a hint of something in her voice but it was frustrating me that I couldn’t figure out what it was.

“No,” I looked away from her gaze but she laughs lightly. Was this amusing to her?

“Look at me,” She stated so gently but I didn’t have to heart to, settling to looking at the ground, but feeling her soft hands on my cheeks as she turned my face to look at hers was making me feel shy.

“Hey,” She coo’s gently and I finally look at her. Her smile was still evident and she looks amused.

“I do not-“ I was cut off as she places the backs of her fingers on my mouth to shush me.

“Theres no need to be jealous, Ao’nung, Rotxo was telling me about how his situationship was going along. He’s confided in me as a friend.”

“I’m not jealous.” I scoff and look away before feeling her hands guiding my stare back toward her.

“No, of course not, my mistake.” She runs her thumbs against my cheeks lovingly that I couldn’t help but close my eyes and hum happily. “But you don’t have to worry about me being interested in anyone else, okay?” She makes it sound like a question but I know she wasn’t really awaiting an answer. I’d opened my eyes as she spoke but felt doubtful.

“But what if you find someone else?” I asked her and felt my insecurities rising.

“Never. I only see you, Tìyawn, only you.” She reassures me.

“Oel ngati kameie, little one,” I stated almost immediately after she had and we meet in the middle for a kiss.

“You know what we should do right now?” She asks me as she backs up from my lips and I pout slightly at the loss of her being so close.

“What?”

“Have sex in the water-“ She tries hiding her amusement but her eyes were twinkling.

_________

Further on closer toward the opposite edge of the woods where we’d come from are more walkways that reach smaller islands within the Metkayina and the other clans nearby. There was usually someone watching post nearby or walking around but due to the celebration, Tonowari was nice enough to let them have a small break and come down to have fun.

“There is something I wanted to tell you,” I stated while panting as his fangs tickled my neck.

“Mm,” He mutter mindlessly but his ears flicker up toward me to listen.

“Your dad is hot-“ I hold back a giggle as he makes a disapproving look, his lips swollen from our heavy make out session, biting my lip as I look down at his mouth and back up his eyes.

“Yeah?” His eyes darkened as his head tilts to the side, hands gingerly gripping my thighs and dragging me toward him. “Why is that?” He asks with a finger on my chin, making sure I don’t shy away from his intense eye contact.

“The tattoo’s that cover his face, he’s very kind, his voice is deep, he’s very strong.” I listed while staring right at Ao’nung, his smirk settling in his face.

“I’ve got tattoos on my face.” He stated as his hands start running across my thighs softly.

“Not very many,” I retort and his big hands start caressing my inner thighs.

“Am I not kind to you, little one?” He asks while kissing at my jaw line and once again down my neck, his fingers dangerously close to where I needed them.

“I-I guess-“ I gasp as he finally pushes my tewng to the side and glides his thumb over my clit.

“Is my voice not deep when I pleasure you?” He asks straight into my ear and plunges one finger straight in and I couldn’t help but moan.

“Hmm?” He grazes my g-spot and I shudder under him, closing my eyes and enjoying his ministrations. I feel his finger remain still and it causes me to open my eyes again.

“Yes!” I whine and he chuckles.

“Look at how pathetic you are and I’ve only used one finger. Do you really think you could handle my father?” He asks cockily.

“Just want you-“ I groan as he slides a second finger in.

“Hmm, are you certain?” He purposely curls them over my G-spot, not even bothering to thrust them anymore, just moving them over my spongey spot repeatedly.

“Am I too weak for you?” He asks and pecks my lips.

“N-no,“ I try concentrating on my words but concentrate on bucking my hips instead, eyes closed tightly, grasping onto his arm for dear life as he continues pleasuring me.

“Fuck,” I moan out loudly and I can hear the smirk in his voice.

“I thought you wanted to do this in the water.”

“Hmm,” I buck my hips against his fingers.

“You gonna come?” He asks and I only nod my head as much as I could just to feel the orgasm ripped away from me as he removes his fingers. But before he says anything I crawl on his lap kissing him and grinding myself over his noticeable bulge.

“It almost feels like you prefer me over my father,” He teases while sliding me against his body as he stands, discarding his tewng in the sand, and walking into the water.

“Wait what about mine-“ I asked but it was too late.

“Just in case anyone comes by unexpectedly, you’ll be safe.” He kisses me and bites my bottom lip teasingly.

“I do prefer you over your father,” I wrapped my arms around his neck answering his previous question.

“I’m not convinced,” he once again moves my tewng to the side, and pushes his penis in one go, after having done this for the past month its safe to say he fits well, and the initial sting does bother me but it doesn’t hurt as bad as before when we’d first done it.

“Oh shit-“ I gasp and shut my eyes and squeeze my legs wrapped around his waist, my arms squeezing his neck, his own hands squeezing my hips.

“You feel so good little one, such a good girl taking my cock like that,”

I tried not to react to what he was saying but I’m sure my pussy was giving it away, his smirk returning on his face causing me to shiver.

“You like that?” He asks but doesn’t giving me a chance to answer before thrusting his hips upward.

“W-wait!” I whine as he continues thrusting rapidly, feeling my orgasm approaching rapidly.

“Can’t believe you’re all mine, pretty girl, all mine.” He grows into my ear and the possessiveness coming from it makes me moan loudly.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” The mantra spills out of my lips so easily and I can hear him grunting with every thrust.

“Touch me, little one, touch my ears-“ He begs and his hands squeeze my hips harder, but I bring my hands up to caress his ears, somehow he thrusts even faster and his hips are meeting mine.

“Fuck!” I yell as his pelvis strokes my clit deliciously with how deep, fast, and hard he was going. I could feel his ears trembling under my touch and the most unexpected constant flow of whimpers coming from his mouth.

“Such a good girl, wanna paint your pretty walls with my come-“ He mutters.

“Come Ao’nung, please!” I cry as I feel myself being tipped over the edge, his own orgasm chasing after mine. I was always curious about their come, it had a slight blue glow to it, shining very brightly in the night.

“You’re wild, Tìyawn,” He states as he gently pulls out, sweeping his fingers inside to make sure to get all of his come off me.

“Do you think your dad fucks as hard as you do?”

He splashes water in my face and I can’t help but laugh at my own comment and the disapproving look he’d given me.

“I only see you, yawne.” I repeat to him and kiss him.

“I only see you, little one.” He connects our foreheads together and I feel at peace as I hold onto him.

“I want to stay like this forever,” I hum in appreciation as he gently runs one of his hands against my back.

“I know but we need to go back soon. We can’t get caught.”

“Speaking of getting caught, when should we tell Tsireya?” I asked as I remembered the conversation we were having at the beach earlier today and the real reason I’d told him I needed to tell him something.

“Are you sure you want to tell her? She can be a loud mouth.” He stated and I pout a bit.

“She mentioned noticing a change in you this past month but was upset that you haven’t told her anything. She would keep our secret.” I stated as he begins walking out of the water.

“Is it something you are sure about?” He asks and I just look at him in surprise.

“Is it something you want to tell her? She is your best friend.” I add on to earn sympathy points from him.

“I do,” He nods. “But, I worry that my mom will find out,”

“No wait, I care more about you than what my mother thinks, but-“

“I know, she’s still scary,” I smile up toward him to let him know I wasn’t offended by his words. His feet had finally touched the sand and I try wriggling off of him.

“Lets stay like this until we get back.”

“You’re naked right now. Nobody else can see you like this.” I narrowed my eyes at him and he just smiles, planting a kiss on my mouth.

“Weren’t you the one who said there was no need to get jealous?”

“I will cut your dick off.”

“You’d wrap those pretty lips around it before you cut it off, little one,”

“Stooop!” I blushed at his words.

_________

“Oh, Hey! Where have you been?” Tsireya had turned right after I tapped her arm gently to gain her attention since she’d been dancing with a group of friends. These girls were friends from her childhood and were known to be gossipers but appeared to have drank a little much at the same time given their sways. I was just thankful we were closer toward the edge of the crowd and not near the singers where it was hard to hold a conversation.

“Could I introduce you to someone?” I’d asked her in a hushed voice. I wanted to be careful with how I’d stated anything around her friends since I had no intention of allowing them to overhear our conversation. I also didn’t want to risk them hearing anything and getting the wrong idea, or allowing their liquid courage to give them any reason to follow us, I just wanted to tell Tsireya, nobody else.

After getting out of the water we’d sat back in the clearing to dry off but her hair seemed to be drying at a slower pace than normal, probably due to no sun or heat being available, and my mind had shifted toward what she had said at the cave where tawtute were sensitive to temperatures. I’d asked her if she wanted a blanket to wrap herself around but she’d refused until I told her I would find Tsireya and bring her over where I felt her shivering and decided to grab a blanket from our marui, bringing it over so she could warm up while I left her to find my sister.

My sisters face goes blank before being switched over toward a new emotion that settles on her face that she fails to hide but she nods either way. She’d turned toward her friends saying I had shown up to escort her home since she had to start early tomorrow morning. It was a wonderful excuse in order for her to part from them, but that meant our trek over toward the clearing would have to take a little longer getting there.

We’d walked in silence toward the marui’s before making sure her friends could not see us anymore to give them the impression that we’d gone home. She pauses behind a random marui but I’m thankful she signs since it is uncertain if anybody else was at home or not.

Where is she? Her giddy smile and the excitement glowing in her eyes were a testament to how she felt at the moment.

She’s in the clearing, we’ll have to walk for a bit. I signed back and turned around to start walking over, and I’m certain she was following behind.

It was just now that I could feel my heart pounding in my chest with each step we took, getting closer to the clearing had my stomach tumbling too, my airway felt constricted and my mouth was dry. I decided to take a deep breath to try to calm myself and slowly exhaled.

“I need you to promise me you won’t tell anyone. You can’t tell your friends at all, you can’t even tell Lo’ak, we’re trying to hide it from mom.” I admitted as we continued walking, we were a littlw ways out from the clearing and all I could think was if this was a good idea or not.

“If that is what you wish I will not tell a soul, but are you certain you want me to meet her?” The lightest touch on my arm caught my attention and I turned, noticing she’d stopped.

No matter how bad she’d wanted to know a secret anyone was hiding, she always made sure to keep her nose out of it, she would always wait for someone to approach her and never shared that secret with anyone else, always keeping it. When we were smaller, our mother forbid me to go hunting with the bigger kids because she knew I’d get hurt, let’s just say I didn’t listen to her and definitely got hurt. Tsireya had walked in on my arm bleeding from a cut I got from coral - since I tried wooing the people I was with- as I searched the salves my mother kept in a box. She’d taken the paste away from my hand and grabbed another one that looked completely different and handed it to me, putting the other one in its place.

She even took the time to place the smallest bits of seaweed on it to help the paste stay in the cut. She’d spent the entire day standing next to me to cover her work so our mother wouldn’t yell at me. She refused to leave my side when her friends called and when our mother asked us why she was stuck on my side she said it was because she loved me.

“I can turn back if you want, no matter how bad I want to know who she is, I can wait.” She adds again and doesn’t even bother trying to sneak a peek around me.

“You’re my best friend, there is nobody else I’d want to introduce her to.” I reassure her and turn to walk again. We were nearing the clearing and I could catch a hint of her wrapped in my blanket.

“Just promise you won’t tell a soul, not even Eywa,” I whispered and she pokes my back for fun.

“Eywa knows all.” She jokes as she whispers back and we are finally here.

“Little one,” I called out to her and she turns her head to face me, her back stiffened as she stands even straighter, Tsireya remained behind me and hadn’t stepped out.

“I brought my sister.” I motion for her to come closer and she does, her footsteps being soft and calculated, she also seemed nervous.

“You ready, ‘Reya?” I asked as I tilted my head back so she could see me, she gives me a nod, and her eyes widened as I stepped out of her way, falling upon the tawtute in a shocked manner. She turns to look between myself and Y/n before uttering her first word.

“Ahh,” It was as if she’d had a sudden moment of clarity as her eyes settled back on Y/n. I could tell ma’tìyawn was letting the doubt fill in, her eyes were knitted upward as she stared up at my sister.

“Hi sweets,” She spoke nervously.

“This actually makes sense.” Tsireya states as if she were in a trance.

“You came back home hours after the storm had stopped, why ai couldn’t find her a little after you’d disappeared, why you’re nicer!” She poked my arm excitedly.

“You are courting my favorite tawtute!” She yells happily and I’m only thankful to Eywa for a celebration happening at this moment, if not I was sure everyone in the clan had heard her.

She had turned and ran up toward my tawtute, picking her up and squealing happily, I could feel my heart slowing down and my stomach settling, a cool feeling overtaking my once erratic nerves as I see the two embracing, a smile settles on my features as the two most important women in my life were embracing each other.

“I was so scared to tell you!” Y/n stated as she too seemed to be at ease.

“I should have pieced it together, but this is a good thing! You’re making him much less grumpy! Only the sweetest of souls could do that, and I should have known it was you!” Tsireya settles her down again as she sits down, crossing her legs.

“Tell me, is he hitting it right?” Tsireya asks and Y/n blushes.

“Who taught you that!” Y/n asks as Tsireya giggles.

“The person whose currently hitting this-“ She points at herself.

“Ugh, gross, Tsireya, don’t taint my tawtute.” I roll my eyes at the conversation being had in front of me.

“I knew you guys were boning,” Y/n comments back with a smile of her own.

“Yawne, thats gross,”

“Awe! Yawne?” Tsireya asks with the widest smile.

“I shouldn’t have let you two meet.” I sigh and place my hand over my face while shaking my head in disappointment.

“I thought you’d hate me for keeping this secret.”

“No no, you have every right to, have you told anyone else?”

“We haven’t told anyone else but we want to eventually, we’re taking small steps.” I speak up and Tsireya nods.

“Come sit,” Y/n pats the grass beside her, I walk over and sit where she’d pointed to and grab her, sitting her on my lap, my arms wrapped around her blanketed form. Tsireya cooing at how cute she thought this whole thing was, it made me blush for sure, I could only imagine my tawtute’s face at the comments. We’d enjoyed each others company throughout the rest of the night.

Walking back toward the back end of the Marui’s we reach the walkways where Y/n stops, turning to face me and taking the blanket off of herself, handing it over to me. I take it and shamelessly smell it, smiling at the change in smell, what once smelled like me now has a hint of her in it. I squat on my toes to kiss her and she wraps her arms around my neck.

“I’ll miss you tonight.” I kiss her forehead.

“We’ll see each other tomorrow,” She lets out a light laugh and I kiss her again.

“You do know your sister is still watching, hmm?” She asks and I kiss her once more.

“Thats her problem.” She takes her arms away from my neck and steps back.

I’ll miss you tonight. She signs with a bright blush on her face and I could only imagine my sister was looking at her, I was correct since I heard the slightest of Awe’s from behind me.

I’ll miss you more I signed back at her and she waves before turning to walk toward the Sully marui.

_________

*this whole conversation is in English until you wake up in the morning, ok? I’d rather make a note here than using strike through on all of the text*

“And where do you think you’ve been?”

I’d long since frozen upon seeing his tall build standing near the walkway, nowhere close to where the entrance of our marui was, just far enough away from being heard from anyone inside it. I could have turned back and walked from where I came but I was sure he’d follow regardless, and I knew Ao’nung and Tsireya weren’t out of sight yet.

“Enjoying the nice fresh air, whats wrong with you?” I asked him, trying to play it off like it was nothing.

“No, because I saw you walk toward the woods earlier, but didn’t see anyone else. I can only assume whoever you went to meet had already gone ahead of you.”

I kept my face as neutral as possible, trying to think of a way out of this situation, but my mind was drawing blanks. If he saw me going into the woods then I’d have to find a way to lie about why I was there.

“I don’t need to explain myself to you.” I scoff and roll my eyes. “But the tree’s remind me of being in the forest. It helps bring my mind at ease during social situations where I feel like I’m suffocating-“

“You really can’t lie your way out of this, lets try that again.”

“I swear, for being born two minutes later you’re the biggest pain in my ass.”

“I may be younger but I’m wiser-“

“No you aren’t, skxawng.”

“You’ve got an answer for me or do I need to find it out myself and follow you around the entire island?”

“With your clear threat, I can only imagine you have a vague idea of why I’m out here.”

“Not really but you buried yourself into a hole with that comment.”

“Spider-“ I stated angrily and pause to try to calm myself down.

“You never hide anything from me, Y/n, I’ve given it some time but I’m worried about you. You disappear several times a day and reappear even more tired. Is someone making you do something, or are you sick and you’re afraid to tell us?”

“Who is all home right now?” I asked aloud and Spider sighs.

“Jake, Neytiri, and Tuk. She got tired and they came back home. Lo’ak and Kiri were staying a bit longer but they should be coming home soon.”

“Give me until tomorrow afternoon and I can answer that question for sure.”

“Y/n-“ He stated immediately before I held my hand up to stop him from continuing.

“I am not being threatened to doing anything, I can assure you I’m fine, I just need to think about it, okay?”

He nods warily as I sigh.

“Just until tomorrow.” He agrees. Spider knew my body language well enough to understand when I’d been lying, but to also tell if I was okay, which I assume he got the hint and thats why he agreed.

“I’m tired, we should go sleep.” I suggested to move this along and he nods, walking over toward the entrance of the marui, and pushing aside the curtain covering the entrance.

Falling asleep had proven to be harsh as I continued tossing to find a comfortable position and no longer finding it comforting after getting settled, leaving me to turn once more and the cycle continued for a while. Jake and Neytiri had already put Tuk in bed and had stayed up until Lo’ak and Kiri came in.

We all talked in hushed voices about how special their ceremony was and how many people they talked to. It didn’t take long for them to have fallen asleep as they were probably tired and I was left to fend for myself. I’d had just about enough of not getting comfortable and stepped out of the marui, surprised that I’d managed to struggle all night since the daylight was starting to creep up onto the water.

I carefully and quietly walked over toward the beach and sat with my back against a tree. Staring out into the water and taking a second to enjoy the tranquility of the gentle waves rolling about, wetting the sand of the shoreline.

“You’re up early,”

“We need to talk.” I stated curtly before turning to make direct eye contact with him, his face had a slight smile but I could tell it had fallen at my tone.

“Whats wrong?” He asked as he squats near me.

I let out a sigh before telling him what had happened right after he dropped me off. I didn’t forget to mention that I’d told my brother I’d give him some kind of answer in the afternoon and Ao’nung smiled weakly toward me.

“What?” I asked.

“We might need to come clean to the whole group.” He suggests and I’m sure the look on my face showed how scared I was.

“Hey, it doesn’t matter what anyone says, I won’t leave you, little one.”

“Thats not what I’m worried about.”

“Then what?” He asks and looks like he’s about to grab onto my arm comfortingly before I see another teal body coming up and my instant reaction is to shake my head at the action, his arm was only slightly outstretched and I am thankful to all of my senses at that moment

“What are you doing?”

Both our heads snap back up toward the woman standing beside us, her own eyes narrowed as she looks directly at me, then sliding back to her son waiting for his response. I should have known she wouldn’t be talking to me and I’m sure if she were she’d believe I was lying.

“Just asking if we were still meeting up later.” He lies through his teeth and I felt a sense of pride run through me. His mother shifts her gaze at me as if to ask ‘alone?’ I couldn’t help but continue staring at her.

“Tsireya told Kiri to convince Y/n to come,” He adds to let her know we weren’t meeting alone and she turns to look at her son and nods as of she were still processing what he’d said. I turn to look at him as his gaze shifts toward mine and he seems panicked. I raised my brow and look at the sand again, essentially telling him to calm down.

“Very well.” She stated and holds an outstretched hand for him to go toward her. “Excuse us, Y/n,” she bows her head lightly and it shocks me at the respect she had just given me, but I have to remind myself its to keep up appearances.

I’d taken it upon myself to head back to the marui to wake everyone up and get started on our day considering we were slightly busy. The quicker we finished our share of work the more time we could spend together and the best opportunity to tell them while everyone else- including Ao’nungs mother- would continue being busy with their works.

_________

“Where have you been?” Tsireya asks as if to scold me for being the only one to have joined the group late.

“I had to throw our mother off my scent. She already caught us this morning.” I explained and her ears flicker upward.

“Technically I have, like, thirty seconds left before I can tell you-“ I can hear my tawtute speaking as her brother looks angrily toward her. Out of habit, I froze and pretended my attention was elsewhere, completely forgetting for a bit why we were all gathered here.

“Thats bullshit Y/n, tell me what stupid thing you’re hiding.”

“I told you I would let you know if I decided to tell you, not that I would for sure tell you!” She yells back at him.

“Well its already been thirty seconds.” Spider crosses his arms and stares at his tsmuke awaiting an answer.

“It’s been fifteen-“ She sticks her tongue out at him.

“It’s been thirty seconds, Yawne.” I agree with her brother aloud and Spider completely misses the point of what I’d said as he shouts a victory toward Y/n.

“You’re supposed to be on my side.” She stated calmly toward me.

Kiri had stood with her mouth agape as Spider just raised a brow at his sister- still missing how we were acting toward each other. Rotxo had his mouth open while forming a shocked smile, looking between us and Kiri. Lo’ak seemed to have just caught on to what was said as his brows furrow.

“Wait a minute- Yawne?” Spider finally catches on and looks between us in shock and I felt like now would have been a perfect time for Kiri to laugh, but I’m assuming it came as too much of a shock for everyone.

“No way-“ Spider states shocked.

“Oh my Eywa,” Kiri places her hands over her mouth but fails to hide her excitement as she lets out a small squeal.

“I should have known someone tamed the beast,” Rotxo comments with a smirk as he shakes his head in surprise.

“Are you serious?”

All heads turned toward the forest boy who’d uttered those words. It definitely didn’t sound like he had been too happy to find out, but he wasn’t yelling about it either, his voice definitely held a calm tone to it, but it was impossible to ignore the harshness that came with it.

“Lo’ak,” Tsireya begins as his eyes go over toward hers.

“You knew?” He asks in disbelief and her ears flicker down a bit, her face changing to show her apology.

“She only found out yesterday, Lo.” Y/n states upon seeing my sisters immediate change in mood.

“You mean to tell me you told Tsireya before telling anyone else?” He asks a little louder this time.

“Maybe now you can see why we decided to tell her?” She sasses back at Lo’ak.

“Look, Y/n,” He pinches the bridge of his nose as he exhales. “Theres no way you can be with this-“ He points toward me and stops talking.

“You loved my brother.” He stated firmly.

“Yes, I do love Neteyam. But I love Ao’nung too.”

“No you don’t.” He stated just as quick. “You think you do, but you don’t.”

“You love me?” I asked in shock.

“Not now,” She states at me while holding her hand up to acknowledge me but continuing to stare at Lo’ak. “You cannot tell me what I feel. Or are you suddenly becoming your dad and think you know whats best for me?” She asks in anger.

“Guys, we should take a second to cool down.” Kiri breaks their angered animosity toward them and both Lo’ak and Y/n’s faces soften.

“I just-“ Lo’ak states as a sudden realization hits him and he sighs. “I just don’t want you to get hurt, especially since you’ve been hurt before when you didn’t even get to say goodbye. And especially with him.” Lo’ak looks toward me but I can understand why.

“Lo,” Y/n stated softly as she walks toward him and hugs him, knowing how close they were and their kind of relationship I had no reason to be jealous, but wondered if he would hurt her due to his anger from before.

“You’re my tsmukan. And I loved your tsmukan. But moving on is part of the healing.” She stated and he wraps his arms around her.

“I’m sorry,” He apologizes.

“He is good to me, I promise.”

“Sometimes it feels like Lo’ak is a better brother than I am, should I have reacted that way-“ Spider started before letting a loud oof escape his lips, nobody spared him a glance as it was obvious Kiri had smacked him upside the head.

“You break her heart, and I’ll break your face with my fists.” Lo’ak threatens as Y/n giggles.

“I am aware of my actions from the past and have also asked for an apology from all of you. I do not plan to break that trust nor break your tsmuke’s heart. I would also like to point out I was not expecting to be hit in the face that time.” I stated and could hear my tawtute giggling.

“Don’t feel sorry for yourself now Tìyawn,” I can feel her little fingers on my face as I’d failed to hear her come up to me for the first time. She’d stood on a rock behind me to reach me and I’d taken her by the waist to slide her off the rock and holding her close onto myself.

“He hit me many times-“ I pouted and she started laughing.

“Yes, I praised him when I heard the story,”

“Hey!”

“Hey.” She pecks my lips and a chorus of eww’s are heard from our friend group.

“Not like you all don’t kiss each other anyway-“ She sticks her tongue out at them and its my turn to join in on the laughter.

“Are you planning on telling sa’nok and sempul too?” Lo’ak asks and Y/n’s face falls slightly again.

“We’re trying to keep that from happening. Ronal is definitely the last person that needs to know and if we told your parents I’m sure they’d tell her next. And I don’t want to face Neytiri’s wrath from another native woman again.” She shivers and I can tell its a sore subject for her.

“She’ll find out eventually, but it’ll be too late by then, Tìyawn. And I’m not letting you go either, yeah?”

“Yeah,” She agrees as I set her down.

#avatar smut #avatar #avatar the way of water smut #afab reader #human reader #aonung #aonung x reader #aonung x reader smut

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starfxkr · 3 days

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have been thinking a lot about loser rafe lately.. i think its so interesting that in fics he’s consistently written as mister popular everyone knows him all the girls want him but like. if you look at canon theres not actually a lot of evidence until season 3 but i have thoughts on that this is a long one lets get #meta

season one the only people he hangs out with/talks to are topper kelce and barry and barry didnt even fuck w him like that he was still just the plug 😭 hes selling coke at that party but who do we see him talking to besides the drunk/high girls that are all over him because he has well. coke! i feel like season one is the best representation of his social status on the island because its really the only window we have into what their normal lives looked like before everything snowballed with the gold and tbh nothing about him was giving king of kildare

season two bro is going through a lot the only person who fucks with him is barry and he like kind of talks to topper even though they clearly dont like each other because who else does he have to talk to? hes clearly been ostracized to some degree by his peers because yeah he was cleared and released but he was ARRESTED. IN RELATION TO A MURDER. and all the mess with his dad like its a small island everybody knows everybodys business and tbh i dont even think just that would be enough to justify him being so entirely alone. rich white kids do not have morals. we’ve seen rich white men that have done worse and actually been convicted/held accountable assimilate back into their respective communities with ease and i think the same would have happened to rafe if he already had the clout for it but he clearly doesn’t but you know who does? SARAH. she comes back from everything in s3 and all her old kook peers are quick to welcome her back in hungry for details about everything she’s experienced. now rafe.. we see him getting drunk alone at the country club in the middle of the day like oh thats not

now season three yeah he comes back to kildare he wants to be a real man like his daddy blah blah blah he takes over tannyhill and throws that big party but he has. no friends. i dont even mean close friends bc duh but he comes back and theres not even a oh shit rafe’s back like his revival actually made no noise thats soooooakslskjskdld you cannot tell me that all the people at that party were not 90% tourons 10% nosy locals 100% people just looking for free liq and a sick party these are not rafes peers from season one

tldr i think on the surface its really easy to see the boxes rafe checks off (rich young hot popular sister etc) and assume that everybody wanted him or to be him and everybody writes him like that but im gonna touch your hand when i say this . he is a loser. if rose thought he was weird as fuck from when he was 10 years old i’m sure everyone else on the island could smell it too. i need more people to write rafe as sarah’s weird mean friendless bitchless Not Quite Right older brother LOOK AT THE MATERIAL

THANK YOU THANK YOU I CONSISTENTLY SAY BARRY IS RAFES ONLY REAL FRIEND

like i say this all the time but rafe is really fuckin weird and off-putting. there's this sense that he's kinda...wearing human skin. like he's moving around barely able to contain his worst impulses and everyone can like sense that? rafe has always been not quite right and he's not very good at hiding that either.

like everything rafe does seems off, and you make such a good point about him not being able go back into the fold properly makes sense if you peel back the layers and see he wasn't really well liked to begin with? topper was way more popular than rafe and in many was rafe and topper are only friends because of sarah and even then rafe is weird about using topper as a means of control over her.

but yeah you summed it up perfectly rafe doesnt give kook king forreal hes a weird, friendless loser who can barely hide his true self in public.

#✨.txt #meta

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crookedkryptonitebeliever · 1 month

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Bruh I remember you saying how there was a point in his life where Yves was possibly facing death row because of some insane human experiments and now I’m just imagining him in court looking cunt as f in that orange jumpsuit like: “12 counts of kidnapping” *flips hair over his shoulder* “6 counts of dealing in dead human remains” *crosses legs* “18 counts of Mayhem” *bats eyelashes* “20 counts of first degree murder” “3 counts of possessing, selling or usage of weapons of mass destruction” like he’s be so nonchalant because he knows that he’s gonna be free and won’t see another night of jail and that the courts are just doing this to satisfy the loved ones of the families that were affected.

Now I wonder like, I remember in an earlier ask it looked like Yves might’ve looked quite different when he was in his doctor era, not as femme and with shorter hair, would this coincide with his mad scientist era as well? Or would this be afterwards?

I also feel like the human experimentation stuff happened while he was trying to essentially patch himself up and used live donations to do that. I dunno y but I have a headcanon that all of that may of happened earlier into his medical career, like I can imagine him first starting, always wearing a surgical mask and gloves because his face and hands probably looked DASTARDLY, and over time, as he patches himself up reveals more and more of himself.

I dunno, just my idea, probably doesn’t match up with your own tl but I was thinking about it since I saw it and now I have the time to put it into words! Love your writing and I love Yves!!!!!!!!

Tw; Yves past and full of traumas n shit, body horror and stuff

Trust me, he wasn't serving cunt in court, there was a reason why he has any video, photo and even memorial evidence of it scrubbed.

The first time he got sentenced heavier than a few years in prison without parole, he was screaming and hissing and kicking as the guards took him away. Yves was bitter and full of hatred, his quest to become beautiful again was interrupted too early because of his immature carelessness. It hasn't even been half a decade since he received his license and he's already caught. Fellow inmates avoided him because there was just something not right about that man even though he was one of the scrawniest and visibly weakest in the institution.

He already knows how to make scalpels out of nothing, Yves's extensive knowledge of human biology means that he could very easily kill or debilitate anyone without a hitch. The gangs wouldn't want to mess with him, the weaker ones wouldn't want to get his attention, and not even the wardens wanted to go near him if they could help it. The vibes were just... Off. He wasn't a pretty sight for the eyes either, especially with his scars and deformities from years of abuse.

It was only years after he 'calmed' down enough to think properly in prison. Unfortunately though, during his turbulent years, he racked up a large number of mutilation and murder victims in his facility. He was the worst and deadliest inmate in there, at one point having a judge sentence him to death because he was just too much of a threat to be kept alive.

So he sobered up, pushed aside his anguish for his looks and dignity robbed away from him. Yves considerably mellowed himself down, opting to be more diplomatic and cunning to get what he wanted. He had to learn how to seduce the people that matter without the help of his youth and looks, he would play the meek, helpless deformed cutie in distress. It managed to win the hearts of some key personnel that aided him in escaping. Not only the prison, but the system too.

Through a lengthy, convoluted, and nerve-wracking plan paved by betrayal, drugs, sexual exploitation, torture, and evil intentions, Yves somehow got his death sentence reversed. And slowly, dissolved his other penalties too with the help of his contacts and smart thinking. He sacrificed a lot to get out and most importantly, acquire experiences.

He kept going until he finally escaped, entirely. Having the authorities off his back because they cannot convict him anymore. Using every legal loophole and doing shady things to paint him as innocent in the eyes of the law. Hell, they didn't even remember him, as if he induced permanent amnesia into those who brought him to justice in the first place. He had done the impossible and he had become a traitor to everyone he had used to attain his goals, dooming them to their horrible fates because they abused and brutalized him when he was at his lowest.

From there, he had attained his secret, unstoppable weapon: patience. Yves has learned a valuable lesson, that is if he keeps acting out and thinking that he's running out of time, he will fuck up and not go anywhere.

Now that he knew the ins and outs of the system (and the psychology of those involved), the next time he was caught and brought for another court hearing in handcuffs, he wasn't serving cunt either. He had to manipulate everyone into thinking that he was innocent and simply framed for something he didn't do. Yves is playing his own chess and winning at every round, he knows all the moves and what to do, and he calculates the risks and benefits, the probability of what might happen. Who he should endear himself to and who he should appear intimidating to.

When it comes to trouble, he is never serving cunt nor flop. He is always serving nothing. Because he knew that attention can be deadly, for every case he got himself into, one of his main priorities was to keep it hush-hush. The less people know, the less he has to eliminate, the better.

He wormed back into his medical career, laying low for a bit but ultimately scheming to get back to usual programming. Yves learned how to be much more careful, and sneaky. He learned how to keep their screams muffled and enhanced his forgery skills. The importance of having numerous scapegoats at his disposal is greatly emphasized so his quest wouldn't be interrupted too soon again. Those who truly knew the monster under that calm and collected facade either feared or respected him, or both. Everyone else didn't know who he even was or his relevance to anything, that's exactly what Yves wanted: obscurity. Fame did nothing but get him in trouble and tormented, so he sunk into the comforting depths of anonymity.

Only when he got the face, hands, and feet that he wanted, Yves fucked off from the medical field to do other things he wanted. But mostly it is to work on his mental fortitude to become the powerhouse he is right now. It doesn't mean he quit entirely, though. Present day, He would still run his morbid experiments from time to time on people who wronged him; there is definitely no shortage of them in the world. Yves does that to satisfy his curiosity or to research how to make your life better.

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere male #oc yves #yandere oc x reader #tw yandere #yandere x you #yandere concept #male yandere oc x reader

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marsbabysblog · 1 year

Text

Davy Jones reaction to you cussing

for @inner-sparkle-inner-writings

Davy Jones x fem!reader

Warnings: Swearing (obvi)

Request

Davy Jones x reader in which the reader screws something up and on the job and accidentally cussed her-self our for it, and being the first time Davy hears her swear and reacting to it?

____________________________________________

It was quite a normal day

Everybody was at their own station preparing for the storm up ahead. Davy Jones didn’t fear shit, a storm was a small splinter in his goal, it didn’t effect their route. Well at least that was for the half fish half people…for Y/n it was a different story.

Being completely human and on the shorter side of everyone else, storms were like a living nightmare in the ocean. All the commotion and crew flailing around made Y/n feel sick. While everyone else could hold their ropes in place, Y/n would literally fly with the wind. It was difficult and no body seemed to care.

Finally the waves crashed down, the rain fell hard, and the thunder roared louder than the damn canons. Y/n’s hair was soaked and kept blowing in her face. Her clothes were wet and were very uncomfortable to wear. But the worst thing of all was every man (if you could even call them that at this point) was fighting about what direction they should be going. Arguing turned into a screaming match which turned into a fist fight. Someone lost their aim and punched Y/n right in the face.

“Oh my fucking god!” Y/n shouted louder than the commotion around her. Loud enough to make everyone stop what they were doing.

Y/n was sweet, honestly she was a kind soul. Pirates weren’t the type to change their ways for a woman but with Y/n things were different. Most of the crew actually respected her, or at least they were nicer. Maybe it was because they wanted to get in her pants but that didn’t matter, as long as no one really messed with her she didn’t care. But this was it. This was her final straw. She had finally snapped.

“We are going North, that is the right fucking way! I swear to god you men are bunch of dumbasses!”

The crew looked at her in shock, then they looked at their Captain, Davy Jones.

He looked even more shocked then them. He opened his mouth but closed it immediately, he was speechless. How could such a “fragile” lady say such vulgar things. And not just any lady, how could Y/n swear? He didn’t think it was possible.

“And now that I’m on that subject,” Y/n continued, “I am teaching you all how to fucking shower. I tried my best to endure the smell of shit but it had gotten way too much!” She was on a roll her insults and her opinion. She already started so why stop now?

After at least 10 minutes of ranting, Jones interrupted her.

“Y/n that’s enough.” He tried to sound more demanding but honestly he sounded a bit scared. “Come with me…” He grabbed her arm and walked her into his quarters.

“…are you okay?” It was blunt but he sounded genuine. “Are you on your…um…lady days?” he whispered.

Y/n cupped her own face in her hands and screamed into them.

“No…” she said bringing her eyes back up to meet his, “simply angry that was all but i feel much better to get that off my chest.” She smiled. He looked down right terrified.

“Are you sure your okay?” How does this women start off as the nicest little thing ever, start swearing up a storm, scream, and then smile like normal…

“Mhm!”

“…i don’t think i’ll ever quite understand you…”

____________________________________________

Ahhhh! I finally finished my first request!!! This was so fun to write 😭 I know i changed some things around in the fan-fiction but i hope you still like it!

More serious writings are coming soon, I just wanted to start off with a short little comedy! I hoped you enjoyed and tysm for the request! Feel free to leave any notes! Love yaaa<333

-marsswann

#pirates of the caribbean x reader #pirates of the caribbean #davy jones #davy jones x reader #comedy #request #fanfic #x reader #potc x reader #potc imagine #imagine #oneshot #short story

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hitomisuzuya · 1 year

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Omg pls this idea has been on my mind forever. Fem! Reader making fun of wanderer for having smaller hands compared to readers but then in closed doors Wanderer fingers them like crazy and degrades them 😳😳 taunting them as well for saying hes got smaller hands and such

a/n: Oh my my, what a delicious ask😳 I hope you enjoy, anon❤️ I hope this wasn't too much. also, do the gifs look blurry to anyone. I always worry about it. Please let me know if they do so I can start grabbing them off of Google instead.

Wanderer x fem!reader. Smut. Fingering. Degradation and taunts.

It started with a simple jest, all in the name of teasing. You couldn't help yourself. It was so easy to ruffle Wanderer's feathers. "Your hands, they are so small," you giggled, "I think they might be smaller than mine"

Before you could press your hand flat against his for a size comparison, Wanderer scoffed, yanking his hand away. "Whatever, I know you have stuff to do today for Nahida. Hurry up and give me your reading list before I change my mind, nerd."

You'd started assisting Nahida in her duties as an Archon. It was the only way you could think of to pay her back for hiding the man you loved hidden safely away from everyone after suffering his defeat at the hands of The Traveler. Nahida told you it wasn't necessary, but you insisted. Your knowledge of humans and how they act would help her out, even having you act as her vessel a few times to speak to people.

Wanderer had offered to check some books out of the library for you. He had nothing going on all day, spending his time walking through the wilderness while you were with Nahida.

You found the books in a bag on your bed later that afternoon. The titles varied, some books about the history of Sumeru. Some Akademiya essays. And one just for yourself. Wanderer would've labelled it as a dumb romance novel.

Your eyes speed through the words printed on the page, your cheeks flushing. You looked around your room. Wanderer wasn't back yet, so....

There were curious noises coming from your room. Ones Wanderer was very familiar with. He opened the door. There you were, pleasuring yourself, moaning his name as you thought of him doing the things you'd read in the book to you.

You yelped when you saw him, hastily pulling your fingers out of your dripping hole. "Go on, don't stop on my account," he taunted, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

You were frozen like a deer in headlights. Embarrassed you looked away from him. You know what a shit eating smirk looks like? That's the expression on his face. "or is it because you can't get yourself off? What's wrong, y/n, can't reach your fun spots with your fingers? And you said I had small hands."

Sitting down on the bed, Wanderer picked up the hand you'd been fingering yourself with. He licked your slick off them, biting down on the tips for a moment.

"I..I..ahhhh," a stammer was all you could manage as he buried his fingers inside you. You'd already made such a mess of yourself that his fingers slid easily against your walls, immediately hitting your sweet spot.

Your clit swelled with blood at the sudden stimulation, making you grind up into his fingers. His pace quickened, his eyes never once leaving your's. "You stupid slut, your pussy is practically sucking my fingers inside."

Every hook of his fingers against your g-spot drew a louder, lewder moan from you. His pace was ruthless, his fingers making wet noises fill the room. "Ha, you are almost there aren't you? It must be such a relief for you to have your pussy stuffed by my small hands." He practically spat the word small.

"Wanderer I'm sorry! I-AH- gonna cum," you babbled, bucking your hips up in time with his thrusts.

"Then cum, you needy whore. Maybe next time, you'll think twice before insulting me."

#genshin impact #genshin smut #wanderer #wanderer smut #wanderer x reader #wanderer x you #wanderer x y/n

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toxicanonymity · 1 year

Text

Rock Bottom, Part 3: You don't wanna do that

4k l Corey x Reader is primary but both smut scenes involve something to do with Michael

Summary: Cleaning up Michael's mess leads to Corey staying over with the female deputy and possibly risking it all.

Rock Bottom Index - All Chapters

Warnings: EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT, NSFW, 18+ , IT'S DEPRAVED! Dubious consent; Violence (aftermath)

Notes: The first smut scene is on the nastier side for sure, but it kind of wrote itself. If you like the fic, you can reblog here or interact on AO3 (don't have to log in) to keep this story a priority. Thank you for reading!

Michael is larger-than-life, and the rumors about him are dark: Violent, incestual obsession. Cannibalism. Any of it could be true and shock no one. But somehow, Corey is surprised that Michael Audrey Myers absolutely railed someone in front of him. The way he fucked her was human. His strength was reptilian. Maybe it’s the fact that Michael left her alive - left them both alive.

Corey doesn’t bother trying to catch up with Michael. He stays on the ground, his temple resting against the window, his breath fogging the glass. Exhausted. There’s a dead guy in there. He wonders if the female deputy Michael fucked will call it into the Sheriff's Office.

Inside the house, she stirs on the floor. Her eyes meet the window and she does a double-take. She doesn't look scared this time - he's not wearing a mask. She holds Corey’s gaze, then pulls her unbuttoned shirt together, crosses her arms, and shrugs: what are you looking at? Something tells him she isn’t going to call for help.

Corey can't pass up the opportunity to take it all in. He walks around the side of the house and enters through the carport. He's heard about these scenes on the news like everyone else, but seeing it right in front of him is something different entirely.

The house smells like cigarettes with notes of metal and balsamic. The smoke from the smashed TV has settled into a light haze. Flies buzz in the kitchen. There's a dark, set-in stain on the linoleum from some other time - their struggle the night before?

The body is face down on the carpet, sparing them a grisly view of his sliced-open neck, but a significant pool of blood has spread around him, its edges continuing to creep. A few flies have migrated this way, but they’re not swarming yet.

“You’re different," she croaks. Her hair is wild.

“I’m not Michael,” he announces. He cautiously approaches the hall and leans against the wall opposite her.

“No shit,” she says, sizing him up. “No offense. No, I meant I remember you, Cunningham."

"Yeah?"

"You’re like him now. What happened to you?” She wheezes. No man-eater vibe at the moment – she seems utterly spent. "Looks like life was rougher on the outside ." Corey had barely spent any time in jail, and it was years ago. But aside from being penetrated by evil, he had really thrown himself into lifting weights since the accident. He was already built, but now his frame was bordering on hulkish for his height.

"Why aren't you calling the cops?" Corey demands before he'll say anything else. His voice is deep and gravely.

"I could ask you the same thing.”

“Fair enough.” Corey pushes his butt into the hall wall and imagines what it must have felt like for her, pinned by Michael's shaft. He gently scoots the fallen picture frame aside with his boot. It's an old family portrait. He looks up at the other frames. Some are too faded to make out. The ones that have held up look nothing like anyone he's seen in the house so far. He slides down the wall and takes a seat, leaving one knee up.

She nods toward the dead body in the living room and says, “This genius was out of the slammer for two days and couldn’t keep his nose clean.” This was not the answer Corey expected. Whether the guy deserved it or not, she was sitting in a crime scene. Most people would be freaking out. He wondered if she was afraid or in shock.

"Aren’t you hurt though?" He prods, secretly hoping she'll go into details about what it feels like being impaled by Michael's rod.

With a far away stare, she starts to fasten the buttons that remain on her shirt.

“Why did he let you live?” Corey asks.

“Why do you think?” she says. She lifts her butt off the ground and Corey catches a glimpse of two shiny inner thighs and a pink seam between them as she tugs her skirt back into place.

“I mean – was that – did you let him?”

She sighs. "He can't help it.”

“What does that mean?”

She scoffs. “God, I mean." She searches for words. Corey waits, knowing she doesn't owe him an answer. She shakes her head. "It means you should see the size of his cock." He’s speechless. Something stirs in his jumpsuit. He looks at her skirt, then away. His face is hot.

“You want to, don’t you?” For the first time, she smiles a little.

Corey turns red and almost starts to protest, then realizes there’s no air of judgment in her words. She might even have meant he wants to fuck her, which he does. He wants to insert himself into the scene, the experience. He wants to be everywhere Michael was. He wants the sheath of Michael's sword around his own.

"Why did he let you live? I’m sure you’re not the first kid to start following him around.” She yawns.

“Really?” Corey asks.

She starts to stand, wincing in pain. “Help me clean up this mess and I’ll tell you whatever you wanna know.”

“It’s a crime scene. You’re really not gonna call it in?” Corey wants to be sure before he gets his fingerprints all over everything.

“Really. The bleach is in there.” She points behind her to the pantry.

Corey sighs and opens the pantry. Duct tape, rope, lye, gloves, salt, tarps. “No bleach.”

“Damnit.” She grabs a pair of keys off the wall, and tosses them underhand. “Ben’s Hardware. They don’t ask any questions.”

Corey glances at the floor to avoid stepping on the picture frame, and he sees her tattered underwear lying there. Michael’s trail of destruction. His cock thickens, thinking about Michael fucking her. He looks up at her, and his eyes darken..

She returns his gaze and approaches slowly, step by step, until her body is against his. His breath quickens. When Corey looks at her, he sees another survivor. A chosen one. Someone who knows what it’s like to have Michael’s hand around their throat then walk away. Changed.

Corey swallows and doesn’t move. He realizes out loud, "that wasn't the first time."

"No." She backs up against the pantry door, closing it with her ass as she grabs his jumpsuit with both hands, pulling him against her. His hand goes to her neck as hers explore his muscles. Her neck is so delicate, so soft, it’s a wonder Michael didn’t snap it in half.

***

Corey breathes heavily and pushes his clothed hardness against her skirt dutifully, needily. "How did you meet?"

She hikes it up. "Smith's Grove. Pre-transfer surveillance." She inhales through her nose then closes her eyes as she grinds herself into the bulge in his jumpsuit. He forgets to breathe. She curls one of her legs behind him, hugging his ass with her calf. She nestles her heel below his crack to beg his hardness even closer. His balls ache pleasantly.

Corey shudders, imagining her heel is Michael behind him. Corey doesn’t know what it feels like to be entered, invaded, forcefully taken. He’s wanted to find out since the moment Michael grabbed his throat. His arousal grows. She brings her hands to Corey’s curls and caresses them affectionately before yanking his head downward.

He resists, not wanting to give up the sensation of her body against his, then slowly begins crouching down, lowering his head first, leaving his butt against the door. Corey wants to know every sensation she felt as Michael fucked her. He wants to absorb it transitively. He lightly drags his fingertips over her skin.

He breathes heavily into her chest. She undoes the remains of her button-up shirt and shrugs it off. His rough hands run over her supple skin. It feels like a warm peach. He palms her hard nipples as he slowly drops to his knees at her urging.

She swings a knee over his shoulder and pulls his curly head in between her legs, pleadingly. Corey takes her ass in his hands and starts with light, hesitant kisses above her seam. He aches with want. He tugs at the zipper of his jumpsuit. It’s stuck.

“Please,” he breathes, palming himself hard and slow with his wrist, like he’s trying to get a knot out of a muscle. She enters herself with a finger, then brings her slickened digits to her hidden pearl. “Come on, Corey,” she breathes, giving herself a rub then putting her hand back at the crown of his head, making his curls sticky.

Corey's eye is drawn to the sheen of a translucent river on her skin. He runs his fingers over it. It’s crusty at the edges. Michael’s cum is just now drying. Corey kisses the milky trail feverishly, tonguing it as he recalls Michael’s final thrusts, every muscle of that hulking back moving gracefully under blue fabric like a beautiful machine.

With his face between her legs, Corey flares his nostrils and inhales until his chest can't physically hold any more air. He can smell the tinge of Michael’s load. He aggressively noses her most sensitive place as he breathes it in. He plants a wet kiss on her petals, then on her pearl. She breathes heavily and massages his scalp with her short nails as he begins to work his tongue.

His large fingers dig into the flesh of her buttocks. She bucks her hips with both hands in his curls. She whines and her beautiful face contorts. Corey’s hardness throbs, and pre-cum seeps from his cock head. He's thirsty, parched, desperate for Michael’s seed.

He brings his tongue to the moist little hole where Michael emptied himself. He flattens his tongue and laps at her, at Michael, with all his strength. Then his tongue sharpens and plunges inside her. Her breath accelerates. He keeps one hand on her ass and unzips his jumpsuit with the other, thrusting his tongue, lapping her entrance up and down. He savors every salty drop. “Don’t stop,” she says, and he doesn’t until he’s desperate for his own release.

He comes up for air, replacing his face with his hand. He flattens several expansive digits against her. They dwarf her folds. He rubs her the way she rubbed herself. Then, he plunges a thick, meaty finger into her and swirls it around, desperately raking her walls for more of Michael.

He watches her breasts bounce as she bucks her hips against his large hand. He feels her thighs quiver against his chest and shoulder. The air is cold against the slick on his face.

The sight and smell of froth on his hand shoots pleasure through his body. He slickens his cock, then his mouth returns between her legs. Corey chokes his cock like Michael choked him. He devours her, and him. He laps up any trace of Michael and swallows, dying to have Michael inside him by any means. The seed of a god. She pulls his hair and moans. Her voice is small.

Corey puts his hands on her hips and tries to gently nudge her downward, hoping she’ll ride him to climax, but she won’t. He can’t blame her – she’s probably sore.

He works her clit with his nose as he hungrily laps her entrance. She gasps and moans and cries. She rolls her hips as she comes. She contracts and pulsates. Again, again, again. He feels it through his nose and gives her special place one last kiss. She lets her head fall back and catches her breath.

Corey tears his jumpsuit open. She dismounts his shoulder. He pumps himself just a few times before he erupts all over himself, her legs, and the floor. She holds his shiny chin in her hand and looks down at him apologetically. "Careful. He doesn't share," she says.

"What?” Corey’s heart skips a beat.

"Um. Just make sure we clean that up." She pulls her skirt back into place, then urges Corey up by his hair. “If you’re not back in an hour I’ll make the call.” She lets him go with a shove,

Corey goes to the hardware store, and it's true, no questions are asked. It’s a new store, and there’s not another shopper in sight. He finds the bleach at the back of the store and can’t help but notice the end of each aisle seems suspect. The contents are similar to the pantry - ropes and chains, tarps, duct tape. There isn’t a murder aisle per se, but the way the store is organized sure is convenient.

Back at the house, the lady deputy has showered and changed into ripped jeans and a white tank. She’s sweeping up the glass from the busted TV. The body is still face down on the carpet. They roll the body onto a tarp in the kitchen while they clean the living room.

Corey takes his jumpsuit off before opening the first of several gallons of bleach. He doesn’t need Ronald asking any questions about a bleach-spotted uniform, especially since Joan still does Corey’s laundry. The deputy puts the uniform in the wash while they clean up. Now he's practically captive unless he wants to walk out of here soaking wet or half naked.

He's left with a tight blue undershirt and gray boxer briefs. His sleeves hug him tight as his biceps flex to scrub the floor. Below his boxer briefs, his thighs fade from white to tan as they bulge with muscle, peppered with fine, chestnut hair. He asks her questions as they scrub. Is he a cannibal? Does he come here a lot? Does he live in the sewer? What was it like the first time? Does the kill turn him on?

She pauses, sighs, then sits back on her knees. Corey does too. She takes a ripped latex glove off and puts her bare, soft hand on Corey's face. “Michael’s not gonna fuck you, baby,” she says. "He loves pussy."

She pulls on a new glove and starts scrubbing again, letting him collect himself. Corey's lips part, but he doesn’t respond. Her words sting for a moment, but they shouldn't: She can't possibly know for sure that Michael only loves pussy.

Corey may not look big compared to Michael, but no one does. Corey is built and has a nice shape. His shoulders are broad, his pecs are strong, and his solid torso narrows slightly before broadening again to his powerful thighs. He catches her staring multiple times while they’re both on all fours scrubbing. She’s not trying to hide it. Corey can’t help but watch her, too.

Navy blotches of sweat consume the blue of Corey’s tee until he peels it off. One side of his boxers looks rusty with diluted blood. They strip the body and wrap it in a tarp and duct tape. Corey dresses himself in the guy's clothes for a minute to haul the body to the bed of the truck in the carport. The broken TV and lampshade follow.

When he comes back inside, he can't get the clothes off soon enough, even though his sweat is cold and the air is chilly. Corey feels dirtier from wearing the dead guy's seedy, woman-beating clothes than he does from anything else. He feels dirtier than he did in the sewer. She seems to read his mind. "There's water, but it's not hot."

There's a bathroom attached to a bedroom with a full bed, low to the ground. In the shower, the icy water shrinks him and grounds him. With blood rushing back to his brain, he thinks more about the practical side of getting close to Michael.

He still thinks bringing Michael his prey is the best bet. She said he doesn't share. Corey wonders if Michael trusts him not to do anything to her, or doesn't mind killing him if he does. Hopefully sucking Michael's cum out of her didn't count. Unless it gets Michael's hand around his throat again, on second thought.

He turns off the water. She pops in to hand him a towel. He wraps it around his waist and exits into the bedroom. There’s a small shelf with a TV and VCR. The TV has an old-school antenna. The shelf has a small VHS collection.

Corey sits on the edge of the bed and goes through the tapes: Black Christmas, Scream, Hellraiser. The Blair Witch Project is on the bed. He picks it up from the mattress and lies back against the wall to read the cover. He’s exhausted. He never intended to stay this long. It's inertia at this point. And lack of clothes.

The doorbell rings, and Corey's heart goes to his throat. An adolescent voice asks, "Blair?" It's pizza. She ordered pizza with a dead body in the carport. At least she used a fake name. He looks at the VHS box and smiles. He listens as she flirts with the pizza boy, then the door slams. Corey shakes his head and laughs silently. She sure knows how to entertain herself. He's starving.

She brings a meat-lovers pizza to the bedroom along with clean-ish clothes: a white tee and her own pajama pants. The pants are small but stretchy and soft. The shirt is too tight and not stretchy, but he's too cold not to wear it. His curls are still wet. They eat on the bed and turn on the Blair Witch Project. He should really get going soon, but when he thinks about Joan fussing over him, it's an easy decision to stay awhile longer.

The small shirt exposes the bottom of his solid torso, and the PJs give him a prominent bulge, even soft. Corey feels exposed, but at the same time, the soft pants feel great as they hug his ass and cradle his junk.

The two of them huddle under an old crocheted blanket. They start off side by side, then she puts her leg over his, and her head in the crook of his strong arm. A while later, he turns away from the movie to face her, with his head resting in one hand. His other hand strokes her midriff, making her look small. "Do you think he'll kill me?"

"Your hands are cold," she responds. She wraps her arms around herself. "He hasn't killed you yet." She sits up and takes off her jeans.

"Do you want these back?" He looks down at his pants.

"Nah, they look good on you. Just keep me warm." She smiles. When she gets back in the blanket, she lies in front of him so they're both facing the TV. She pulls the blanket tighter. Her hair smells clean. She settles into his body. He inhales her hair and relaxes. His hand drifts into her panties, and he presses the hardness of his pants into her.

"You don't wanna do that," she says.

"But I do," he whispers huskily. She sighs softly, but remains resolute. He gives up on getting into her pants and wraps his arms around her tighter. The curves of her body will keep arousing him, but he's already come twice today and taken a cold shower. He'll survive.

Corey hasn't thought about Allyson for hours until now. He feels amazing with Allyson because it's the first time he let his guard down in so long. Allyson is pretty, she's funny, and she seems to really like him. But she's not on the same wavelength. He's not even sure she's living in the same dimension, or if there's a way to bring her over. He feels understood by the deputy. With her, he feels close to Michael. Michael doesn't share, he thinks .

He drifts off pretending Michael is a third spoon behind him.

***

The VHS ends with a click and the TV turns to static. There's no light from outside. Corey dreams he's in Michael's lair. Michael hugs him tight from behind, then puts him in a sleeper hold. Corey wakes up horny and gasping for air.

His bedmate is roused by the gasping, grinds her ass into him, and sighs in her sleep as she settles again. She must be cold. Corey grinds into her and pre-cum begins to wet the pajama pants. The pants are so tight. He reaches down and frees himself. The waistband under his ballsack urges him into her.

He nestles his wood between her thighs in a warm nook that feels made for him. It's so cozy. She grinds her ass back and he feels her folds moisten against his cock. He gently slides against her, barely moving at first, back and forth with small pulses.

He doesn't enter her, yet. He slides his cock along her seam until he passes her clit and feels the cold air on the other end, then pulls back and does it again. She grinds back more, and her relaxed hand sleepily comes down to his cockhead. His cock is hastened by her slickness.

He breathes heavily, fucking the sleeve formed by her thighs and seam. The tunnel barely accommodates his girth. She moans in her sleep. Her hand stays in front of her. Her slick fingers graze the head of his cock every time he reaches the wall of her hand. Soon her fingers are pressing back each time. His eyelids grow heavy.

He thrusts gently again and again into her thigh gap. The head of his cock hits her fingers and they press back harder this time. They curl. They nudge him in line with her entrance. The next time he thrusts, he's sheathed by a much tighter, warmer, wetter sleeve. His breath hitches and his chest fills with butterflies.

She moans softly, tilting her hips and pushing back with her ass. He tries to stay still and briefly considers pulling out. Her ass pushes back again, then again, and again in a slow rhythm. She fucks herself on his cock.

Corey tries not to move, but he can't resist. He's already inside her. He wraps his top arm around her for leverage, cups her breast, and thrusts his full length into her pussy, his girth spreading her folds. He plunges into her deeper, his entire shaft engulfed by her warmth. He presses his mouth to her hair and tries not to make a sound. Her hair smells like mint.

He slides himself into her even harder. She's so hot and wet. It feels unbearably good. Better than he's ever felt inside anyone. He bites his lip, trying not to vocalize. Her walls clench around him. She moans and breathes, "Michael ."

The sound of his name is too much. Corey's balls tighten, his ass clenches, he gasps, and his cock erupts. He repeats "Michael," deep and soft, as his load pumps into her. It’s a surprising amount of cum, given his recent relief.

He stays inside her, breathing, falling back asleep. He feels safe. As he dozes off and shrinks out of her, she stirs. Her hand comes to her seam and hits his cock. She jolts awake and flips over. "Corey! What the fuck?" The fog clears from his head and a sense of shame and dread sets in.

"You should really go, she says," as she gets up. The backs of her thighs shine with their combined juices. She pulls her jeans over her perfect ass but doesn't button them. She stomps down the hall, fetches Corey's jumpsuit, and shoves it into his chest as he stands there, stunned.

"I'm sorry, really - I thought you wa-"

"I want you alive, you idiot."

"You do?" This shouldn't flatter him, but it does. If he were her – that is, if Michael owned him - he can't imagine caring about anyone else.

They stand in the hall and look at each other. Corey's heart is racing. She softens her gaze, steps closer, and plays with a ringlet of his hair. Her eyes are sad. Corey breaks the silence, "How will he know?" He feels like he knows the answer - Michael is an apex predator.

"Following him around like a puppy isn't going to help.” Her face looks pained. “Stay away from him, Corey." He opens the front door. Dawn is breaking. She puts her hand on his to stop him. She searches his eyes and seems to sense his plans. “Hey, seriously. Don’t do anything stupid.”

He stops and turns around. He presses his nose and lips into her hair and inhales, then tilts her chin upward. He gives her a long, hard kiss, breathing in through his nose. His lips release hers and she brings her hand to her mouth, her eyes darting around outside.

He closes the door behind him, undeterred.

CONTINUE WITH CHAPTER 4

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