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#i love how at the end of the day the most unthinkable things like this one get done by the less physically powerful....
hauntingblue · 1 month
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Sanji crucified and getting punished by a giant spider lady for his sins against women....
#i just noticed kaido the dragon has his cape still....#tatsumaki?? that's zoros move man.#luffy just got eaten..... well another reference to skypiea.... he will make it put unharmed... i hope he ryus back again from the inside#and does more damage.... fuck your large intestines!!!!#see.... he got puked.... thanks zoro#THE CP0????? WELL I WASNT EXPECTING THAT NOW#cant they pick their own weight and let luffy rest for like 5 more minutes... idk....#OMG SPEED!!! TAMA YOU ARE A GENIUS.....#shes got a small army!!!! she really said make peace not war#APOO IS STILL ALIVE?????. DIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE#MY PINK HAIRED SAMURAI GOT ONIFIED.... RESIST MY BRAVE WARRIOR!!!#FRANKYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!! YEAAAHHHHH!!!!! nami and usopp crying about seeing him jdhsjshsjsj franky sweating bc he can't fight them all ajshaj#i love how at the end of the day the most unthinkable things like this one get done by the less physically powerful....#if i were robin or nami i would jusg let sanji there... he got himself in there he can get out why would i fight anybody for that....#epiaide 1019#he got crucified 🤣🤣🤣#<- jesus haters in 33 dc#yeah he is pathetic bc he can't fight women!!! drag him!!!!!#the caramel.... this is for the furries.......#HIYORI HELPING KINEMON???? WHO IS THAT#maria with the brass knuckles.... damn... you are going to give sanji another kink watch out#even the subordinates are shocked about him being spineless akdhaksjak THE OTHER PIRATES CALLING HIM PATHETIC#jinbe really is in love with robin like damn 'she is one of the most important people on the world' and like yeah but he is the only one#thay says it.... i am becoming a frojinbe warrior#franky saying this is a trap for robin and that a man shouldnt be this miserable... i know he wants to beat him up.... franky teach him.....#robin i love you but he isnt worth it........... like i am really not respecting sanji in onigashima.... first he lets nami and kiki get#hurt and now he puts robin in danger.... you should be ashamed of yourself sanji......#talking tag#watching one piece#episode 1021
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makoodles · 9 months
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ミtìohakx
[tI.o."hak’] P F n. hunger
🍓 pairing: tsu'tey x human fem reader
🍓 tags: nsfw, tsu'tey pov, misunderstandings, vaginal sex, oral sex (f receiving), reader has nipple piercings, size kink, human x na'vi sex
🍓 wordcount: 18k
masterlist
it's been far too long since i wrote for my grumpy boy, so here were go! tsu'tey is really horny in this one guys lmao i'm sorry
reblogs are always enormously appreciated!
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There is something wrong with Tsu’tey.
Like, seriously wrong.
This isn’t necessarily a new sentiment to him; he’s been wondering if there’s something fundamentally broken in him for some time now, as if Sylwanin’s death had damaged him more than he could even tell. In the long and painful years following her death, he never so much as glanced at another woman with passing interest. In fact, he had convinced himself that he was no longer capable of experiencing anything even close to romantic or sexual feelings with anyone other than his first love.
Even when he was betrothed to Neytiri, his feelings never developed past fond friendship. Their mating would have been a duty, albeit one he was content enough to perform if it meant that he could serve the clan and maybe, finally, put some of that awful, bone-deep loneliness behind him. But while he loved Neytiri dearly, he could never drum up any real physical attraction beyond the aesthetic appreciation of knowing that she was a beautiful woman.
And that was fine. Tsu’tey never really had a problem with that. He had mostly resigned himself to never experiencing that kind of love again, even if the thought left him hollow on the inside. He’s always been proud to be the kind of man that throws all he has into all into his community and friendships and duties, but he can’t help but wish things were different. It feels a little as though he’s standing stagnant while everyone around him moves on.
The Omaticaya rebuild when the Sky People leave; families are built, bonds are made, and the People move forward. Everyone but Tsu’tey, it feels.
Tsu’tey, instead, finds himself tragically, humiliatingly preoccupied with matters that would surely never have even occurred to him before the war with the Sky People. Well, only one matter, really.
Instead of doing what is expected of him by finding a mate and settling down, like most other men his age in the clan, Tsu’tey finds himself distracted in a way that is completely unbecoming. He goes through his usual motions of hunting, weaving, carving, training, and yet he feels distant from it all, as though his thoughts and attention are elsewhere.
When he’s not carrying out his duties, he’s mortifyingly distracted by just one of the little sky demons that lingers around the village. You.
It would have been unthinkable for him only a few years ago. Even now, Tsu’tey can’t help but wonder if some essential part of him is broken. It’s the only way he can think to explain why you have captured his attention so completely.
There’s nothing special about you. Tsu’tey’s not completely delusional; he can recognise that you’re just a regular Sky Person, nothing impressive. You can’t hunt, you are bad at weaving, and you look odd. You are so tiny and weak, nothing like the willowy and strong women of his clan.
And yet, all of your odd differences are what end up endearing you to him. Tsu’tey has always felt compelled to protect, to serve his clan and defend his people. You’re small and soft, with your strange little face and pretty eyes, and you have no way of defending yourself. Perhaps that was how his fascination with you had started, but it’s since grown into a tentative… friendship, almost.
You visit the village almost every day, to help out where you can or to accompany Norm or even sometimes (and Tsu’tey sometimes has to centre himself to make sure he’s not reading too much into your alien behaviour) just to spend time with him.
“Hey, big guy,” You call out, like you always do, sashaying your way across the village towards him.
Tsu’tey doesn’t look up from where he’s sitting outside his hut, carving a small wooden bowl. It takes quite a bit of effort to look unaffected and casual, especially when his tail had begun to curve around his legs from the moment he had picked up on your sweet scent on the breeze.
“Demon.” He greets back. He chances a quick glance up at you from beneath his eyelashes, hoping you don’t notice.
Then he does a double take, his head snapping up to look at you again as he completely forgets to feign disinterest.
Tsu’tey is used to having you around the village, and he’s used to stifling his embarrassing attraction towards you as best he can. What he’s not used to is the sight of you wearing such tiny little shorts, or such a tight top. The alien fabric is stretched tight across your breasts and so thin that he can see the subtle shape of your nipples beneath the taut fabric.
His stomach does an odd sort of flip, leaving him dizzy.
It's not that he’s shocked by your body – you are still entirely covered (and he tries to quash the disappointment that niggles in the back of his head), and he has seen many female bodies before.
But this is you, and he has never seen so much of you before. The sky demons are confusingly modest and oddly ashamed about their bodies, which means that Tsu’tey has simply had to tackle his odd embarrassing attraction to you with nothing more than his imagination. To see you now like this feels like a physical blow.
Tsu’tey inhales so sharply that he nearly chokes on his own breath. “Tawtute, what—?”
“You said we could go swimming in the river today.” You say, raising the weird little hairy ridges on your brows.
Ah, he thinks, a little dazed. He had said that. It had been a moment of madness, on his part. He had been trying to come up with an excuse to invite you to spend more time with him, and the added incentive of getting to show off some of his skills to you had made him over-eager and excited.
“Mn.” He grunts, his eyes glancing down over the length of your legs, your soft squishy skin all exposed by your tiny shorts. They’re hitched high on your hips, which draws his eyes to your waist and then up again to your breasts, where your top clings to the soft round shape of them.
His eyes follow your hips as you cock them to the side, your hands landing on the curve of your waist. Damn. He… he should really be familiar with the shape of you, by now. You’ve been a near constant presence in the village since the moment you had made the decision to stay behind on Pandora to live in the shoddy human outpost in the nearby forest.
He knows what you look like. But he’s never really seen you in clothes this tight and small before. It’s stupid. Really stupid. He can’t really explain why the sight of your squishy little thighs in those shorts has turned his thoughts into a pathetic buzzing mush of white noise.
You tilt your head, obviously waiting for him to say something. Your eyes are all shiny, looking at him with an expectant smile.
“Yes.” Tsu’tey swallows thickly, forcing himself to his feet. “You wish to swim.”
The thought is a little thrilling. Perhaps he will even be able to catch a few fish in front of you as well. Showing off physical prowess is just one way of impressing a potential mate, and while it’s not initially what he had intended with the offer, the idea of putting on a mating display for you makes excited heat simmer low in his belly.
“Well, you offered.” You remind him, biting at your lower lip under your mask. Your mouth looks all glossy and wet, more so than usual; he wants to touch your lips more than anything.
“Yes. I offered.” He nods, looking down at you as you stand in front of him.
Ah, the height difference is going to his head a little – your face is just level with his belly button, your head tilted all the way back so that you can gaze up at him. His cock twitches at the sight.
“Come.” Tsu’tey says, trying to shake off his distraction before he embarrasses himself.
Just like always, you happily follow after him as he leads the way away out of the village towards the forest. He glances over his shoulder a couple of times, just to make sure that you’re still there.
“I was thinking that after swimming, we could go for a walk,” You say, your little legs working overtime in an attempt to keep up with him. “I’ve been craving that fruit you let me try last time. You know, the one that looks like a blue balloon, but is pink on the inside and really sweet?”
He slows down so that you can keep pace with him more easily, his eyes drawn down to you as you walk. You don’t seem to be wearing your strange little chest covering that usually covers your breasts under your other top, which means that your soft breasts are bouncing lightly with every step you take. Tsu’tey nearly trips over his own feet when he notices, because now it’s like he can’t keep his eyes off you.
The Sky People are demons, a plague on his planet and his people. But you are so bright and sweet, always excited to see him and spend time with him. And your soft body is so different to the Na’vi women he’s used to – you have so much give to you, squishy and bouncy where Na’vi women are firm and lean, especially in places like your thighs and breasts and little tummy. Tsu’tey has never struggled with his self-discipline as much as he does around you.
“Kllpxiwll.” He says, his voice coming out a little less strong than he’d like. “Yes. We can walk later.”
You beam at him, making his tail lash around his ankles. Your cheeks squish up when you smile like that, and his fingers itch with the desire to squeeze at your face.
“Great!” You say brightly, before reaching out to take his hand in yours.
This time, Tsu’tey really does trip. He manages to regain his balance quickly enough that there’s a chance you didn’t notice, but then he looks down at you with wide eyes. Your hand is so small, your little slender fingers curling around his much larger palm, and Tsu’tey swears his heart skips over a beat at the feeling.
Ah, you need his hand for the balance – you hold tight to him as he helps you step over logs and through the long glowing grass between the huge trees. You use your grip on him both as leverage to climb over some of the obstacles before you and to make sure that Tsu’tey keeps his pace slow that you can keep up.
You even glance up at him, your expression uncertain and a little vulnerable, as though you’re unsure how he’s going to react to your touch. He can understand why; he’s never been shy about letting his distaste for your kind known.
 But you’re different. He wonders if you know it – you must know, right? It must be obvious to you, how he looks at you with starry, moronic eyes.
He looks away, struggling to keep his expression cool and neutral. He lets you hold his hand but doesn’t squeeze back, nervous about how tiny your hand is in his and how he might hurt you without even meaning to.
After a moment or two you withdraw your hand, biting at your lip as a small frown tugs at your brow.
When the two of you reach the river, Tsu’tey turns to you and waits. He feels as though he’s holding his breath, watching and waiting as his stomach turns flips. He feels antsy and itchy, his fingers twitching as he forces his face to remain as still as possible.
You raise your eyebrows, tilting your head as your mouth twitches in amusement. “Is there a reason you’re glaring at me like that, babe?”
Tsu’tey frowns reflexively; you’re always calling him strange little nicknames that he doesn’t understand, and he’s yet to decide whether he likes them or not. He decides to focus on the other part of your sentence.
“I am not glaring.” He protests, though he doesn’t relax his face. This expression mostly comes naturally to him, and he doesn’t really want you to see him open and mushy anyway. “I am—I am looking.”
“Okay,” You drawl, drawing the word out. “Looking at me?”
“No. Get in the water.” He says, and it accidentally comes out sounding like an order.
He’s lucky you’re used to his brash manner and blunt attitude, because you just roll your eyes at him instead of taking offence. That’s part of the reason he finds you so lovely, always so sweet and bright even when he makes a mess of communicating with you. His tail coils, so relieved that he hasn’t messed this up yet with you.
When your small hands reach for the button on your tiny shorts, Tsu’tey can’t help but stare. You push the strange rough blue material down over your thighs, and he takes a steadying breath through his nose as you push them down to your ankles.
It’s the first time he’s seen you so exposed, so vulnerable – so… human. Your body is perfect. Beautiful. Soft and curvier than a Na’vi woman, so much smaller than him. He feels a little guilty about the way he’s looking at you so lecherously, but he can’t seem to stop.
He feels his mouth go dry, but he can't bring himself to look away. He's never seen you like this, and he'd never forgive himself if he missed this opportunity just to look.
You step out of your shorts, left in just that thin white top and tiny bottoms that he has heard you call ‘panties’ before. They are small, more revealing than the loincloths worn by his people, so thin and dainty. They cling to you, and Tsu’tey swears he feels his thoughts dissolve into pure nothingness at the realisation that he can practically see the outline of your—
“You’re coming too, right?”
Tsu’tey blinks, a little dazed. When he speaks, his voices comes out a little too sharp yet again. “What?”
You’re looking at him, your eyebrows raised and scrunched a little as you stare at him. You’re confused, he realises, and it takes a moment to realise that it must look as though he’s been glaring at you yet again.
It’s just... That... is a lot of skin. It feels illicit in a way that he’s not used to, because he doesn’t normally see this much of you. It feels like human modesty is now rotting his brain if this is how he’s reacting to just the sight of your bare legs.
“You good?” You ask, and you sound a little uncertain now. “You look… you look kinda angry.”
Tsu’tey manages a grunt, but he doesn’t trust himself to actually speak. His tongue feels too big for his mouth, and he’s sure his words will just come out clumsy and thick. He glances away from you before picking at the ties of his battle band around his waist, drawing it away from him and settling it aside in the phosphorescent moss. He feels naked without it, though he doesn’t remove his tewng.
“I am not angry.” He says at last, pleased with how steady he sounds.
You just hum, and step away from him towards the water. He watches you go, his gaze trailing over all your soft flesh. This cannot be normal. Human women are not supposed to be this attractive, and Na'vi men are certainly not meant to be attracted to them.
And yet... he can't resist sneaking glances at you whenever the opportunity presents itself. Your bare skin, your soft body, your bouncing breasts, your lips... you’re driving him mad. His twitching cock beneath his loincloth means that there is no chance of pretending he doesn’t know how attracted he is to you.
You step into the water, letting out a breathy noise of surprise at the temperature. “Oh, it’s cold!”
He watches you walk ahead of him into the river, his eyes are drawn to your hips, then your waist, then... he feels his face grow hot. Get a grip, Tsutey. You're being ridiculous.
But... oh Eywa...
Tsu’tey just breathes. He closes his eyes for a moment, just to collect himself. He’s being an idiot. He’s better than this; he is a warrior, a hunter, he has been trained for leadership and has fought alongside Toruk Makto. There is no good reason for a human woman to bring him to his damn knees like this.
You wade in a little deeper, until the running river water gurgles around your thighs. Then a little further, until the current is rippling around the bare skin of your waist. Then you keep going, until you’re submerged up to your neck, and you’re making a scrunched up little face as you hiss through your teeth.
“Shit! How can the water be this cold when it’s so hot out!” You complain again, your nose all wrinkled.
Oh.. you’re just adorable. Tsu’tey feels his fingers twitching again, wanting so badly to touch and squeeze and pinch.
You glance back over at him, and give him an odd little look. “Hey, are you coming? I didn’t come here just to swim by myself!”
Tsu’tey stumbles slightly as he makes his way to the edge of the water. Fuck, he’s just a mess of warring emotions right now. All he seems to be able to do is stare at you with hot, hungry eyes.
He glances away again, unable to keep looking at you any longer. He takes a deep breath and dives into the water, keeping his body straight as an arrow as he spears through the water and surfaces only a few feet from you.
The water is cold, but he finds it refreshing. It shocks some awareness back into him, makes him feel a little more normal and less stunned.
You squeal with laughter as his dive splashes you, throwing your head back as you bob in the water nearby. You paddle a little closer to him, swimming a little deeper until you’re treading water next to him.
“It is cold.” He breathes. It’s the only thing he can think of to say that’s even mildly intelligent, yet it sounds like it falls entirely flat.
But you just giggle as though he’s told a wonderful, highly intelligent joke. His ears twitch, relishing the sound of your laughter.
Tsu'tey swallows thickly, his eyes drawn down to your chest. Your thin white top has turned translucent, and clings to the soft shape of your breasts. Through the thin wet fabric, he can see the prominent shape of your nipples.
“I’ve been looking forward to this swim all day,” You’re saying, blissfully unaware Tsu’tey going through his crisis right at your side. “It’s been hot – honestly, the cold water is a bit of a relief, right?”
“Mngh.” Tsu’tey makes an odd grunting noise, before inhaling sharply and tearing his gaze away from you.
He dips down, allowing the river water to engulf him as it rushes over his head. He half-heartedly hopes he drowns, too, but that thought only lasts a moment before he resurfaces and takes a deep, grounding breath.
He can do this. It’s fine. He enjoys spending time with you, especially when he gets to steal you away from the village and the outpost and gets to enjoy your company away from all the curious eyes of the clan. He likes the feeling of having you all to himself.
He swims with you for a while, enjoying the feeling of the water current running over his skin and stealing looks at you as often as he can without you noticing.
You’re so small and soft, and you look pretty in the glow of the sunlight filtering through the trees that shelter the river. He swallows thickly. It feels like he’s witnessing something he never imagined he’d be allowed to see. Your hips. Your waist. Your soft thighs. Your… everything. Fuck, he wants you.
Eventually, you tire, and paddle your way back to the riverbank. Tsu’tey follows as if he’s been magnetised, orbiting nearby you as you clamber your way back onto the sand. Then you lay out on the bank in the sun to dry off, and Tsu’tey feels his pulse throbs hot and heavy in his throat.
He climbs out after you, his tail swinging low as his eyes trail over your figure. Your wet clothes cling to you, the soft fabric of your panties sticking to your hips and your translucent white top revealing almost everything to him.
He settles next to you, unable to look away from the way your nipples are firm and stiff where they're pressing against the thin top. Then his brow furrows, and he cocks his head.
“Tawtute…” He murmurs before he can think better of it, laying on his side as he looks down at you. “I.. may I ask you a… question?”
“Mhm. Of course.” You say without opening your eyes, enjoying the gentle heat of the sun warming your skin.
Tsu’tey swallows, wonders very briefly if he should keep his thoughts to himself, but his curiosity burns at him. He knows very little about Sky People, and he’s never truly felt any real impulse to learn more. But you’re laying next to him right now, and he finds himself very intrigued indeed about your body and possible… physical differences between you.
“It—Sky People bodies are different to ours,” He says. He attempts to keep his voice steady and as confident as possible, and possibly overcompensates by simply scowling. “It looks—it looks as though you have more nipples than we do. Why is that?”
Your eyes fly open, wide and startled beneath the clear material of your mask, and you stare up at him for a long moment of bewilderment. “I—excuse me?”
Tsu'tey flounders for a moment, thrown off by your tone, heat rushing to his face. "It looks as though—”
You glance down at yourself as he gestures clumsily at your chest, barely covered in your translucent white human fabric. Your expression clears as realisation hits, and then you bite your lip as though you’re trying not to laugh.
“Oh.” You breathe, placing your hand over your breasts. “No, sweetheart. They’re just—they’re just pierced.”
Tsu’tey stares at you uncomprehendingly. “Pierced?”
You nod, and Tsu’tey blinks. The revelation takes him by surprise, though he’s still not entirely certain what you mean by it. Human women pierce their nipples? To him, your breasts are already the most beautiful thing in the world. Why would you want to poke holes through them? What is the thought process behind that?
"Why?" he finally asks, his tone bewildered. "What is the purpose?"
“It’s not.. it’s not that there’s a purpose..” You trail off.
In the ensuing silence you stare at him, as though begging him to understand what you mean, before apparently realising that he isn’t going to. You bite your lip, then glance around as though checking that you’re still alone with him.
“I guess… well, nudity’s not a big deal for Na’vi, right?” You murmur, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your top. “Is it alright if I take this off?”
Nudity certainly isn’t a big deal to his people, not in the way it is for any of the tawtute. The Na’vi are comfortable in their bodies, and so the strange modesty of the Sky People is completely foreign to him. He has seen female breasts every day of his life, the chest coverings worn by the women of his people designed to decorate rather than conceal, and yet he has never in his life been filled with such an all-consuming desire to see a pair of tits before.
“Yes.” He says immediately, keeping his face as cool and unreadable as possible in an attempt at hiding his sheer desperation. “It is no ‘big deal’.”
You hesitate another moment, looking shy and a little embarrassed as you fidget with the hem of your top.
His focus is fully on you now, all his senses trained firmly on the sight of you. The desire to see what lies beneath that flimsy garment is becoming overwhelming.
Let me see, He thinks to himself. Just let me see, and maybe I'll finally be satisfied.
Finally, finally, you tug your top up and off. Tsu’tey inhales so deeply and sharply he nearly chokes on it. His eyes are drawn to your bare chest, transfixed. Your breasts are soft and squishy, perfectly shaped. And for the first time, he sees the small silver bars nestled into your nipples, which are firmed up after the cold of the water. They glitter in the sunlight, capturing his attention and holding it in a vice.
Oh, no, He thinks desperately, feeling a pang of desire deep in his loins. Far from satisfy him, the sight has only made him hunger for more. He wants to touch, especially the odd metal that glitters at your breasts.
“See?” You ask, as if he could have ever missed the sight before him. “My piercings.”
“Mmm.” Tsu’tey manages to get out. His voice is deeper than he had intended, and a little stiff. “I see them.”
You smile, as though you’re waiting for a reaction, but Tsu’tey is a little struck dumb. He watches the light of the sun shining on your wet skin, the way your breasts gently swell and fall with each exhalation of your breath, the subtle gleam of the silver of your piercings. The longer he goes without reacting, the more your expectant smile begins to fade.
“What are they for?” He manages to swallow thickly as he asks.
The question makes you laugh, which isn’t a reaction he had intended but is certainly a sound that he always cherishes.
“They’re not really for anything,” You murmur, reaching up to touch your own breast. “They’re just meant to look good, I guess.”
 Tsu’tey’s tail lashes restlessly, and he wants so badly to replace your hand with his much larger one; he knows you would look so small beneath his palms. He glances swiftly at your face, and wonders if you would be upset if he touches the little silver bars that decorate your tits.
“This is… this is what is considered attractive to Sky People?” He asks. It comes out in a croak; too much of his energy is being diverted to trying to keep his hands still and to himself.
Your smile begins to fade again, your brow creasing. “Um… sometimes, I guess. You don’t.. uh, you don’t think so?”
That is a loaded question. How is he supposed to answer that when you’re laying on the riverbank beside him with only a thin, wet scrap of fabric covering your most intimate parts? He already feels as though most of the blood in his body had redirected downwards; his cock is pulsing, enough so that he can’t actually think anymore.
All he can do is grunt like a damn talioang. Your face falls further.
“I guess they must seem kinda strange.” You murmur. You must be growing self-conscious, because you start to cover your chest with your arms.
The sight of you trying to cover that perfect view from him sends a bolt of panic through him, and he just stops short of tearing your hands away again.
“You do not have to cover,” He says quickly, before he can think about it. “Like you said, it—nudity means little to us. I do not care.”
“Right.” You say, your voice gone a little bland. “It means nothing to you.”
Tsu’tey knows that your attitude has changed, fallen a little flat. But you’re laying right there, soft and small and squishy, displaying more of your bare flesh than he has ever seen from you, and he can’t pull his thoughts together.
He feels no better than the moronic young warriors that push each other around and whisper nonstop about the women of the clan. He is a skilled warrior, an excellent hunter, and a good provider for the whole clan – he is also experienced with women, so he can’t understand why the sight of you is turning him into a hormonal teenager again.
“Nothing.” He agrees stupidly, still struggling not to be too obvious with his staring.
You purse your lips, but drop your arms all the same. Tsu’tey tries not to goggle.
Oh no, He thinks miserably to himself as he watches the little barbells in your nipples sparkle in the sun. I really am broken.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚
Tsu’tey is quite certain that he’s made a fool of himself in front of you.
He’s never been good at expressing himself or his emotions, and his attraction to you scares him as much as it excites him. He alternates between reticence and putting his foot in his mouth, between being unable to meet your gaze and being unable to look away.
He probably looks deranged. He feels deranged.
To make it worse, he knows that his interest in you is obvious to anyone in the clan that watches him interact with you for even a short time. He feels the eyes on him all the time, watching, often looking vaguely sympathetic, which is somehow worse than the horror he had been expecting.
Mercifully no one has said anything to him just yet. At least, no one of any great importance.
“So, you’re telling me that she was laid out next to you, practically naked, just to show off her pierced tits, and you did nothing?” Jakesully demands, his voice like the constant droning buzz of an irritating insect in Tsu’tey’s ear.
Tsu’tey chews sullenly at some roasted teylu, trying and failing to tune his Olo’eyktan out so that he can enjoy his meal.
“Come on, man, seriously.” Jakesully is nudging him now, like an infernal pest. “She took off all her clothes for you, and you didn’t try to—”
“Ma Jake, there are children here.” Neytiri says primly from Jakesully’s other side. She has also been trying her best to ignore her mate, rocking the baby in her lap, but now she sends him a warning glance. The sting of her glare is dulled due to the fact that she’s visibly trying not to laugh.
“Sleeping babies, they got no idea what I’m talking about.” Jake says dismissively, though he adjusts baby Kiri in his arms and leans into his wife’s side all the same.
Tsu’tey shifts where he’s sitting next to him, and allows his gaze to wander across the gathering. He is still waiting to catch sight of you, to see you approaching from across the campfire.
“I’m just saying, man, you’re so obviously into each other that it’s actually painful to watch—”
Tsu’tey grunts irritably. “I am not discussing this.”
“You like her, and she’s all over you!” Jakesully insists. In his arms, Kiri starts to gurgle, and Jake hurriedly raises her up to his shoulder to rub at her little back.
“She is my friend.” Tsu’tey says stubbornly, focusing on his dinner.
Jakesully scoffs. “I’m your friend, but you don’t see me sitting in your lap or holding your hand or getting naked—”
“We are not friends.” Tsu’tey scoffs.
“Ouch,” Jake drawls, rolling his eyes. “Damn, man. I thought we were close.”
 Tsu’tey grumbles, scowling into the distance. The irritating thing is, he thinks that he and Jake are close. Admittedly, they still have their rocky moments; Jakesully has earned Tsu’tey’s respect, but he is also an infuriating man and Tsu’tey has always been easy to rile. But… despite their frequent bickering, Tsu’tey has come to trust his judgements.
Tsu’tey purses his lips and picks at the remaining teylu in his small carved bowl. “You… think that she may return my feelings?”
Jake groans, holding the baby with one hand as he covers his face with the other. “You’re killing me here.”
On Jake’s other side, baby Neteyam starts to fuss in Neytiri’s arms. She sighs, pressing a kiss to her son’s chubby cheek before beginning to rock him gently. She’s been listening with as much patience as she’s capable of, though the whole conversation has been punctuated with her eyerolls and scornful hisses.
“Why do you not talk with her, Tsu’tey?” Neytiri asks in a tone that suggests she thinks both men are idiots. “Explain how you feel to her.”
Tsu’tey just gives her a look of disbelief. It’s like she doesn’t know him at all. When has he ever talked about his feelings before? He prefers to just feel things intensely and then shove it all down very deep until it inevitably bursts right out of him.
It’s been a long time since he’s felt like this; not since he was a teenager fumbling his way through his feelings with Sylwanin. It’s especially embarrassing to know that it’s a sky demon that’s eliciting this reaction from him, and that his closest friends are witnesses to his humiliation.
“I am going to sit with the other tsamsiyu,” Tsu’tey sniffs, pushing himself up from the log. “Perhaps they will have some more intelligent conversation.”
Neytiri scoffs, sounding more scornful than offended. “I doubt it.”
“Besides,” Jake adds, grinning at him over Kiri’s little downy-haired head. “Here comes your little bestie.”
Tsu’tey nearly breaks his neck with how quickly he turns his head, and surely enough there you are. You’re stepping across the gathering, smiling politely at one of the old women who says something to you as you pass by her.
He hastily sinks back down beside Jake, ignoring his pointed snickers.
The closer you get, the more details Tsu’tey can see. You’re all neat and clean, still wearing those tiny shorts. But you’re wearing a different top now, this one green like the verdant leaves of the trees that tower overhead, and now he can see that you’re wearing your odd little breast covering under your top. It pushes your soft breasts up and together in a way that’s very enticing, although he is admittedly a little disappointed by the way your strange little decorated nipples are hidden beneath the padding.
“Hey, big guy.” You call out, your voice as cheerful and bright as always.
Tsu’tey’s ears twitch towards you eagerly, his nerves lighting up at the sound of your voice.
“Tawtute—” He begins to greet, but immediately chokes as you reach them and promptly climb right into his lap.
Oh fuck. His every muscle tightens, and all of his thoughts are frozen at the feel of your soft body moulding to his – you’re so small and so squishy, your soft body yielding so easily to the hard muscle of his chest.
He goes to grab at your hips as you nestle yourself into the cradle of his thighs, before panicking and grabbing at his own legs instead. He grips at his thighs harshly, his nails digging into his own skin hard enough to almost draw blood.
“Hello.” He manages to get out, sounding thick and a little stupid.
“Hi.” You reply, smiling up at him as though you think his inability to speak is adorable.
“Jesus Christ.” Jake mutters from off to the side.
Tsu’tey bares his teeth at him from over your head, but Jake is too busy sharing suggestive looks with Neytiri to even notice.
You shift, and he nearly swallows his tongue when your soft bottom settles neatly over his crotch. He panics as he feels blood rush south, and he hurriedly grabs at your hips to shift you from his crotch to his thigh, hoping that you hadn't felt his body respond in arousal.
“I—I have something for you,” He blurts, grabbing for the small carved wooden bowl he had set carefully by his side; he’s just been waiting for you to arrive. “I collected kllpxiwll berries for you earlier.”
Your eyes widen beneath your breathing mask, a pretty smile brightening up your face. “Oh, these are my favourite.”
“Yes, I know.” Tsu’tey says. His hands are still resting on your hips, enjoying how delicate you feel perched in his lap, but he feels a thin thread of panic underlying his delight. You’re so fragile, and he’s so terrified that his big rough hands will hurt you accidentally.
As you settle your bottom back onto his leg again with the bowl in your hands, he does what he does best and shoves his feelings deep, deep down. He will not allow himself to be driven mad by his desire for a human, however soft and warm and pretty you may be.
“Wow,” Jake drawls from his side. “That was really kind of you, Tsu’tey.”
"It is nothing." he replies, his voice coming out rough. "You are my friend."
It makes him want to bite his own tongue off to have you like this against him, but he forces a relaxed grin anyway. He can feel that it comes out strained, because inside he feels like he’s losing his mind. Your closeness is intoxicating, and he cannot stop himself from brushing his free hand against your thigh.
But you’ve tensed in his lap, the little bowl held tight in your lap. Under your mask, you’ve started to frown.
“Your friend.” You repeat blandly.
Jake winces at his side, and Tsu’tey suspects that he’s already put his foot in his mouth. But your soft, plump ass is seated so damn close to his cock beneath his tewng that he just can’t think straight.
“Yes.” He says dumbly. “We are friends.”
You purse your lips and look back down at the bowl of kllpxiwll berries, picking at them distractedly. “Right.”
Tsu’tey’s tail curls, uncomfortable with your sudden silence. Are you angry with him? His eyes drop down to the fruit he had gathered for you, his stomach sinking. Is it not to your liking?
“Do you not like the kllpxiwll?” He asks, leaning over your shoulder to try and get a glimpse of your face.
He can vaguely hear Neytiri make a sound of pure derision off to the side, but he’s trying his hardest to block both Jake and Neytiri out.
“It’s nice.” You say, though you don’t sound very enthused.
Tsu’tey frowns, but then you move to get comfortable and your ass nestles itself right over the ridge of his hardened cock and he swears that his vision tunnels and turns entirely dark for a second. He panics, then grabs at your hips out of pure reflex and bodily lifts you off of him.
You yelp, obviously startled, your arms windmilling as Tsu’tey thrusts you at Jake before leaping to his feet. He can see the way Jake is staring at him as though he doesn’t know whether he should laugh or not, and the way that Neytiri looks faintly disbelieving, and the way that you look all ruffled and startled as you look up at him as though waiting for an explanation for why you’ve just been so unceremoniously booted off his lap.
“Sorry, I—” Tsu’tey begins, his throat tight and much too dry as he tries desperately to come up with an excuse that has nothing to do with his dick. “You were too heavy.”
Jake’s face screws up in yet another wince before he buries his face in baby Kiri’s shoulder as though he can’t bear to watch Tsu’tey humiliate himself.
You’re still staring up at him from where he had inadvertently dumped you on the ground, your face the picture of confusion and hurt. “I’m too—what?”
Tsu’tey dithers for a moment, feeling terribly exposed. Why had he stood up? It’s only a matter of time before both you and Jake notice that he’s had a very physical reaction to you sitting perched in his lap. Neytiri has already noticed, though she’s been kind enough to direct her gaze pointedly skywards.
“I will fetch you water.” He blurts, before turning on his heel and positively fleeing.
It’s a coward’s move, leaving you confused on the ground like that, but he feels as though if he doesn’t get away from your smooth skin and pretty smile he’s going to drown.
You’re just a human, he tells himself over and over. You’re not supposed to be that attractive. You’re not supposed to do that to me. That was just me being weak.
Tsu’tey only pauses when he’s on the very edge of the gathering, taking a moment to breathe.
You’ve always been such an affectionate little thing, but his nerves can’t take so much physical contact from you. You have no idea how much restraint he is attempting to exert, how difficult it is not to press his face into your throat and leave his scent behind all over you, or to keep his hands to himself instead of allowing them to wander all over your plush skin.
But he doesn’t want to make a move on you; harbouring these desires for a Sky Person is bad enough, but the possibility of being rejected is even worse. Both because of the humiliation of rejection, and because Tsu’tey doesn’t know what he’ll do if you decide it’s too awkward to be around him anymore. He doesn’t actually know what you want from him. You had laid out almost naked next to him, but you hadn’t made any advances either. He isn’t even sure if you like him or if the Great Mother just has a cruel sense of humour.
Tsu’tey is a little clumsy when he grabs at a waterskin, glancing across the gathering. Even from this distance, he can see the unhappy frown on your face as you speak with Jake, who is visibly trying to appease you. Neytiri has taken both of the babies in her arms, tucking Neteyam into the woven net carrier on her chest so that she can hold Kiri in the crook of her elbow as Jake speaks to you.
Tsu’tey winces a little and glances away again, reluctant to watch the aftermath of his outburst unfold.
A few of the warriors nearby are drinking fermented pasuk liquor, and Tsu’tey wordlessly takes a skin and takes a long gulp of it. His silent drinking earns him a couple of odd looks, but none of them seem willing to comment on it and he’s too busy drinking and trying to ignore the ache in his crotch to explain himself.
“Are you well, Tsu’tey?” One of them finally asks, a little hesitantly.
“Fine.” Tsu’tey says brusquely. His manner does not invite any further questions, and his peers fall obligingly silent. “I am taking this.”
He clutches the skin as he prepares to return to his place at the cookfire beside you, though he pauses to take another drink before he goes anywhere. From this distance, you look a little calmer; you’re listening closely to whatever Jake is saying, nodding with a little frown of concentration.
“Tsu’tey?”
He nearly jumps out of his damn skin. He had been so distracted that he hadn’t noticed the soft-footed approach of Saeyla, who has come up on his other side.
“Saeyla.” He greets, his ears pinning back in apprehension.
Saeyla smiles, but doesn’t blink. The effect is unnerving, and gives the impression of a predator watching him. He takes another deep drink from the skin, hoping that perhaps it will help him come up with some way to salvage his pride.
“You look stressed, karyu.” She notes, taking a careful step closer.
Tsu’tey tenses, his brow drawing into his usual scowl. “I am not your karyu anymore. You have passed your iknimaya.”
Saeyla just nods, still smiling a little. The air between them feels uncomfortable, but Tsu’tey wonders if he’s the only one that notices. He still feels rather awkward about how he had rejected Saeyla so harshly that night she had approached him beneath the Tree of Souls. He does not regret rejecting her, but he does feel as though he could have perhaps done so a little more gently than he had.
But while Saeyla has been avoiding him in the months since, it seems that now she is starting to get over some of the hurt he had inadvertently caused. It is a relief to see that she has decided to take a mature approach.
“I was wondering if you could help me,” She says, tilting her head. “One of the beams in my kelku collapsed, and it is too heavy for me to lift by myself.”
From the other side of the gathering, Tsu’tey can see you get to your feet and a bolt of panic shoots through him. Why are you standing? Where are you going? Are you leaving?
“Uh, yes,” Tsu’tey says distractedly, beginning to step away from Saeyla and back towards where he had left you. “I can help.”
“Later? After the gathering?” Saeyla asks, beginning to follow him.
“Yes, yes, later.” Tsu’tey agrees, waving her off before hurriedly leaving her behind.
Walking through the dinner gathering is like attempting an obstacle course, and Tsu’tey is distracted as he tries to avoid stepping on the tails of the gathered clan. Luckily, many seem to sense his urgency, and they sweep their tails close to their bodies as they watch Tsu’tey hurry back over to where he’d left you with Jake and Neytiri.
“Tawtute,” He says when he reaches you again, his ears pinning back. “Your water.”
You look a little surprised at his abrupt return, though you bite your lip and take the waterskin he’s offering all the same. “Oh.. thank you.”
As you pull your mask up and raise the waterskin to your mouth to take a sip, Tsu’tey spares a glance at Jake and Neytiri. Their expressions are about what he had expected; Jake still looks as though he’s trying not to laugh, while Neytiri looks distinctly pitying. Tsu’tey winces, and quickly looks away again.
You’ve only just taken a sip of the water he’s brought you when you choke on it, coughing and spluttering. “Oh— what the fuck—” You gasp, hurriedly fixing your mask back over your face as you heave for breath.
Tsu’tey’s stomach sinks, glancing at the skin that he had handed to you and then at the second one still in his hand.
“Uh—wrong one.” He grunts, snatching the skin of pasuk liquor back out of your hand before handing you the other one that’s filled with water. “… Sorry.”
You’re staring at him with some disbelief now, your eyes watering a little from the strength of the alcohol beneath your exo-mask. “Have you been drinking?”
“No.” Tsu’tey scowls, then amends, “A little.”
You goggle at him with a look of faint astonishment, before you turn to look at Jake. Tsu’tey shifts, feeling rather unfairly jealous, and scowls when he sees you and Jake share a significant look.
“Right.” You say. You sound a little stiff, but you manage to conjure up a sweet smile all the same. “Well. I’m, uh, I’m going to head back to the outpost.”
“Oh.” Tsu’tey says. He hides his disappointment the best that he can, keeping his face still as his tail curls down by ankles.
“But, maybe you could walk me home?” You continue, your eyelashes batting at him.
For the first time, Tsu’tey realises that you look a little different. Your eyelashes are darker and longer, your skin tone smoothed out and even, your cheekbones a little shiny. Your lips look plumper and glossier too, a little redder than their natural tone.
He blinks at you, distracted and a little flustered by your appearance.
“Yes.” He says moronically, hastily passing off the skin full of liquor to Jake, who looks at it in bewilderment.
That makes you brighten, and you reach for his hand hesitantly as though you think he may pull away from you. Tsu’tey watches the way your small fingers intertwine with his much thicker ones, and feels his pupils expand as his tail coils in excitement.
He’s aware of the glances and whispers he’s getting from the rest of the gathered clan, and the irritating eyebrow wiggles he’s getting from Jake, the wolfish yet encouraging grins he’s getting from the warriors that he had taken the alcohol from, but he’s not focusing on any of it. All of his attention is directed towards you as you lead the way towards the forest.
“You look… nice tonight.” He murmurs, low enough that it’s just you that can hear. It comes out awkward, but he means it genuinely.
You glance up at him, and your face relaxes into a smile. You look so damn sweet, clinging to his hand and beaming at him. His heart is thudding hard enough against his chest that he swears it should be visible from the outside, and his own mouth twitches into a hesitant smile in return.
“Yeah?” You ask, your little white teeth gleaming in the remnants of the firelight as you lead the way towards the forest. “I put on a little makeup to come see you.”
Tsu’tey has no idea what that means, but he likes the idea of you doing something specially for him. He feels rather smug as he follows along after you, taking small steps to try to match your pace.
The two of you have only just reached the treeline when Tsu’tey hears a call of his name, and he pauses and glances over his shoulder to see that it’s Saeyla. She’s jogging after him, her ears pricked high in interest.
“Tsu’tey,” She says with a coy smile. “You are still coming to my kelku later?”
You pause at his side, turning to watch her approach. Tsu’tey feels flustered, though he can’t put his finger on why. Your gaze is intense when it comes to rest on the side of his face, waiting for his response.
“Yes, later.” Tsu’tey agrees, eager to be rid of her.
Saeyla smiles, satisfied, her eyes drifting once to you at his side before she turns and saunters away.
Pleased to be alone with you once more, Tsu’tey turns back to you. He can hardly contain his feelings; his ears keep twitching, his tail is coiling and flicking in anticipation, and he can’t tear his eyes away from you. It’s so far from his usual demeanour that it’s embarrassing, but you don’t seem to notice; you’ve never been very good at picking up on Na’vi body language.
You let go of his hand and start walking again faster than Tsu’tey had been expecting, and he jolts into action to try and catch up with you. Your lips are pursed, all glossy and very appealing, and Tsu’tey almost walks into a low-hanging tree bough as he’s staring at you.
His desire for you is simmering at a low boil in his belly, impossible to ignore. It makes him ungainly, clumsy with his limbs and his words, makes him uncharacteristically stupid.
How is he supposed to pursue this? The ways of Sky People confuse him, though he has tried his best to understand you and your ways of thinking. He doesn’t know the customs of human mating, and he doesn’t want to accidentally harm or offend you. Perhaps he would be better off waiting for you to make an advance, but to even think of you making such a move makes him feel so... vulnerable. It's terrifying.
It takes a few moments to realise that he’s been so lost in his own thoughts that he hasn’t noticed the silence that’s settled between the two of you. He clears his throat and increases his pace so that he’s fallen in stride with you.
“You are quiet, tawtute.” He says carefully, questioningly.
He’s not expecting you to scoff, nor shoot him such a bland, unimpressed stare.
“Are you being serious?” You demand.
Tsu’tey blinks. He’s surprised by your sudden change in mood, and wonders if he should be treading carefully now. These sudden attitude changes are bewildering; is this a human thing?
“Yes,” He says slowly. “I am being serious.”
“Unbelievable.” You mutter, promptly speeding up once more.
You don’t get very far – your legs are comically shorter than his, and it takes very little effort to keep up with you.
The outpost is not far from the village, and even with your short legs the two of you arrive at it in no time. To Tsu’tey’s confusion, you march up to the entrance with hardly a second glance at him.
“Tawtute—?” He begins, stepping after you as you ascend the little steps up to the door.
You whirl, startling him into taking a little step back.
“You’re going to Saeyla’s after this?” You demand.
Tsu’tey stares at you, wondering if you’ve gone mad. Why are you asking him this when you had been present for the conversation?
“Yes.” He says slowly. “She asked me to.”
You purse your lips again. “Saeyla, your old student?”
“Yes.” Tsu’tey repeats, beginning to frown.
“Saeyla, who asked you to mate?”
“There is only one Saeyla in the clan.” Tsu’tey points out, a little confused.
Your nostrils flare, and he realises a moment too late that you do not like that answer at all. He flounders for a moment, trying to find a way to salvage the conversation, but he doesn’t fully understand what you’re irritated about.
“She asked for help,” He says, keeping his voice low. “She wishes for help with her kelku.”
“No doubt.” You say archly, your eyes narrowing. “I guess she’s a friend of yours as well.”
Tsu’tey would not have gone so far as to call Saeyla a friend, but he supposes that she had made an extra effort to approach him to mend some of the awkwardness between them. Tsu’tey had always interpreted their relationship as a mentor-student one, so her abrupt confession the night before the clan had gone to war with the Sky People had taken him entirely by surprise.
“In a way.” He says, unsure how to express all of that.
Your funny little alien face seems to tremble for a moment, settling into an odd expression. Not for the first time, Tsu’tey wishes you had proper ears and a tail so that it would be easier for him to tell what you’re thinking.
“Right.” You say, your voice a little dull. “Well, that’s great.”
But then you turn around and march up to the door of the outpost, and it hisses open to let you in. Tsu’tey perks up, frowning. Are you leaving now? You’ve never left without giving him some kind of little hug or squeeze to his hand, or a promise to see him tomorrow.
“Tawtute—” He begins, but you don’t turn around.
“Goodnight, Tsu’tey.”
“I will see you tomorr—” He begins, but the door slides shut with a firm hiss before he can finish.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚
It takes most of the day before Tsu’tey realises that something is wrong.
Hardly a day has gone by in the last few months that you haven’t shown up at the village to watch him train and cook, or to entice him out swimming or walking or gathering. While it was once met with annoyance on Tsu’tey’s part, he has come to enjoy your company. He looks forward to your arrival now, his whole body primed and eager as he waits for you to come to the village.
But the following day, you’re nowhere to be seen.
You don’t arrive for the morning meal, and you never come to watch him train. He waits around in the afternoon, trying to look busy as he waits for you to come to the village. When you don’t show up, uneasiness begins to creep in.
He waits for dinnertime, but you don’t come to eat with him either.
He eats in silence, frowning broodily into the fire and casting frequent glances towards the forest as he waits to catch a glimpse of you. He has to deal with sympathetic and questioning glances from Jake and Neytiri all evening, which makes his skin itch. They don’t ask questions, which arguably makes it worse.
Tsu’tey doesn’t even make it to the end of the meal before he stands, making the decision to seek you out instead of waiting around.
“Good luck, man.” Jake mutters rather ominously.
Tsu’tey doesn’t bother with a reply, abandoning his half-eaten food as he marches into the forest. He’s irritated to find that he’s worried. You had been in poor humour the night before, and he’s a little bit anxious about why.
It doesn’t seem like a coincidence that your mood and attitude had changed so drastically after the two of you had crossed the human boundary of nudity. Had he gone too far? Had you been uncomfortable? Perhaps you had realised that he was looking at you in a way that decidedly surpassed friendship, and you didn’t like it.
The outpost is a shoddy eyesore of human architecture, and it makes Tsu’tey’s nose wrinkle everytime he sees it. Despite all the time he’s spent with you, he rarely visits the outpost itself, but needs must.
It takes a frustratingly long moment for him to work out the mechanism of the door, and then he has to stand there with his tail whipping around impatiently as the door compresses shut and the atmosphere is forcibly converted to air that’s breathable for humans. When the second door opens up to allow him into the outpost itself, he muscles his way in and takes one of the stupid little masks to loop around his neck so that he can take infrequent sips of air.
The outpost is cluttered with demon technology and strange furniture, and Tsu’tey picks his way around the metal floor with his nose wrinkled. He dislikes the way it feels against his bare feet.
The first person that sees him is Norm, who’s sitting at one of the messy desks with his head in his hands. It’s rare to see him in his human form, his odd dreamwalker body tucked away for the night, but Tsu’tey grunts a greeting out nonetheless.
Norm doesn’t react the way he had expected. He jerks to his feet, eyes widening at the sight of him, and he blurts, “Oh, thank god. You’re here to apologise, right?”
That gives Tsu’tey pause, and he stares at Norm in some bewilderment. “Apologise?”
Norm doesn’t appear to hear him, too busy glancing over his shoulder towards the back of the outpost as he scurries a little closer.
“Man, she’s been upset all day.” Norm keeps his voice low, as though he’s worried you’ll hear. “Just—go in there and talk to her.”
Tsu’tey frowns, but he’s already drifting towards the back of the outpost. The shoddy building is split into several sections; one for working, one for recreation, one for sleeping. There’s probably more, but Tsu’tey has never bothered looking too closely at it. All he knows is that Norm has gestured to the back of the building, towards the sleeping area.
“She is resting?” He asks, keeping his voice low to match Norm’s.
Norm scoffs. “Uh, no, I wish. She got some of that fruit wine you guys drink at celebrations. She’s a little bit… uh…”
Ah. You have been drinking. Tsu’tey feels curiosity bubble up in his chest; he’s never seen you drunk before. In this moment, he wants to see nothing more.
“I will speak with her.” He murmurs, before leaving Norm behind in favour of ducking into the back section of the outpost.
The building is rickety and mostly partitioned with fabric curtains rather than the doors that the Sky People tend to favour. As such, Tsu’tey can hear the way Norm is shooing whatever other demons are left over out of the building, presumably to give him some privacy with you.
He finds you laid out in a bed near the back, floppy-limbed and sloe-eyed as you speak with another sky demon. You’re talking with your hands, clearly feeling very passionate about whatever the subject you’re discussing is.
Tsu’tey lets his eyes wander over you, enjoying the brief moment he has before you realise he’s there. You’re wearing thin white fabric shorts covered in some sort of blue pattern, and a small little top that only reaches your midriff. You look so comfy, so warm and soft in your cosy little bed as you drink Omaticayan fruit wine and complain to your friend. Tsu’tey feels a buzzing start up in his belly and the tips of his fingers; he wants to touch you so badly it hurts.
The other sky demon spots him first, her eyes widening at the sight of him as she leaps off the bed. It takes a beat longer for you to spot him, but then you’re scrambling to your feet as well.
“Tsu’tey—” You start, almost spilling the fruit wine in your hand all over your bed. “What are you—”
“You did not come to the village today.” He says before you can finish, stepping closer to your bed.
The ceilings in the outpost are high to accommodate the bodies of the dreamwalkers, so he towers over you as kneel up on your bed, frowning up at him. He feels his cock twitch; he knows he’s bigger than you, obviously, but the size difference between you feels so stark now that he’s looking at you all curled up in your bed, rumpled and a little disheveled from the wine.
“I’ll—I’ll see you later!” Your friend blurts, before turning and rushing out.
Satisfied now that he is alone with you, Tsu’tey allows himself to sink to his knees by your bedside. Even on his knees, he is slightly taller than you in your bed.
You look a little flustered, clutching your cup of wine to your chest as you blink at him with wide eyes. It draws his eyes to your breasts, and with a little thrill of delight he sees that the fabric is sheer enough for him to get a good look at the outline of your nipples all firmed up beneath your clothes.
He so rarely sees you without the mask, and he can’t help but notice how sweet your little face looks without the clear barrier. Your eyes are all glossy and a little hazy from the wine, and you’re looking up at him as though you can’t quite believe he’s there.
“Are you alright?” He asks quietly. The moment feels so delicate, as though he might inadvertently shatter it with a raised voice, so he keeps his voice low and even as he reaches out to stroke over your squishy cheek with a single finger.
To his surprise, you jerk away from him, once again almost sloshing the wine all over yourself. You roll off the bed, holding your cup high, until you’re on your feet in front of him.
“Yes!” You say, and your voice comes out high-pitched and a bit shaky. “Fine, I’m fine. Why are you here?”
For a moment, Tsu’tey just stares at you. You’ve never pulled away from his touches. It’s always been him that’s been jittery around you, nervous in case he hurts you or pushes too far. But now you’re wobbling away from him and avoiding his gaze, and that makes something that feels a lot like panic settle into his bones.
“You are upset.” Tsu’tey notes, shuffling a little closer to you on his knees as you retreat.
“No, no, everything is fine,” You’re insisting, visibly unsteady on your feet as you totter around. “I don’t know why you’re here.”
It shouldn’t be cute, but Tsu’tey is coming to admit to himself that he finds everything about you unnervingly endearing. He watches as you struggle to straighten out your rumpled little clothes, admiring the way the thin fabric clings to you. You look embarrassed and a little self-conscious, as though he’s caught you out.
“I was waiting for you,” He murmurs, reaching for you again. He keeps his hands slow, as though approaching a wounded nantang. You’re such a jittery little thing, but you don’t pull away this time, allowing him to place a hand carefully on your hip. “You did not come to see me today.”
“I figured you’d be busy.” You say, your tone snippy and a bit bratty. “Thought you’d go and hang out with Saeyla today.”
Tsu’tey stares at you. What does Saeyla have to do with this? Is this why you are so upset?
“Syulang,” He murmurs, foregoing his usual nickname for you for a much softer one. “You always have much to say. Please talk to me. I am not understanding why you are angry with me.”
For a moment, he thinks that you aren’t going to speak to him at all. But then you grip your little cup of wine and raise it to your lips, drinking one deep gulp before looking at him in the eye with fiery determination.
“I’m embarrassed,” You snap. “I’ve been basically throwing myself at you for months now, so excuse me if my ego is a little bit bruised. The least you could have done would be to let me down gently instead of letting me embarrass myself in front of everyone—”
Tsu’tey goggles at you, hardly able to believe what you’re saying. “Tawtute—”
“No,” You interrupt sharply, pointing your finger towards him. “Don’t. You said I could talk now.”
Tsu'tey falls obediently silent. His tail curls around his thigh; he’s a little surprised by the way he physically reacts to your sharp tone. He’s never heard you sound so firm before.
“I’ve been—I’ve been wearing all that silly makeup, and wearing all those skimpy tight clothes because I thought you’d look at me more!” You continue, your voice trembling a little. “I’ve been following you around like a pathetic puppy, and sitting in your lap at dinnertime, and holding your hand, and—and—”
You’ve been hoping for him to look at you more? Couldn’t you tell that all he ever did was look at you?
“And then you just tell me that I’m not attractive, and you toss me out of your lap, and tell me that we’re just friends, and you tell me right to my face that you’re going off to sleep with your ex-girlfriend—”
Tsu’tey sputters so hard at that that he nearly spits, horrified.
“I never—” He starts, his eyes wide as his tail curls under his legs, his ears pinning back.
“You did!” You burst out, teary-eyed. “When I was practically naked in front of you, I waited for you to say something, to give any sort of indication that you might like what you were seeing, but you just glared at me and said nothing at all!”
Ah. Tsu’tey has never hated his resting scowl as much as he does in this moment.
“And then yesterday! You said we’re just friends, then you threw me off your lap, and then you said you were going to Saeyla’s kelku right after walking me home—” You continue, beginning to really work yourself up.
“No!” Tsu’tey blurts, reaching out and grabbing at your hand. His blue palm engulfs your much smaller one, and he holds it as delicately as he can. “No, you have misunderstood, syulang.”
“God, I don’t even know why I like you,” You sniffle. “You’re so rude.”
“But you do,” Tsu’tey murmurs, his eyes still wide at the sheer novelty of it. “You like me. You cannot take it back now.”
“Oh, you’re such a dick,” You hiss, yanking your hand out of his. “Did you come here just to rub this in my face—”
“I threw you out of my lap because you were sitting on my cock and I didn’t want you to notice how hard you made me.” The words escape Tsu’tey’s mouth before he can think about it, but you finally fall silent.
 You look a little stunned, actually, and Tsu’tey figures that he’d better start talking quickly before you come back to yourself and remember that you’re angry with him.
He pulls your cup out of your hand and raises it to his mouth, draining the wine in it himself in an effort to cultivate some liquid bravery. The taste bursts sharp and syrupy across his tongue. Of course, he thinks as he licks a dark drop from his lip, you would favour the cloying sweet wine. It suits you.
“Syulang, pretty girl, I do not like when you are upset.” He murmurs, shuffling closer on his knees. You don’t pull away, watching him come and allowing him to rest his hands on your hips. “Please listen.”
You’re still gaping at him, clearly a little thrown off by him stealing your wine from you. He takes advantage of your momentary silence by launching into his explanation. He hardly knows where to begin, but he decides to start with the most heinous accusation.
“I have never been intimate with Saeyla,” He murmurs, his thumbs stroking over your hips. “Never, tawtute. I have not been intimate with anyone in a very long time.”
Your throat bobs a little nervously, but you don’t interrupt.
“I have been taken with you for many, many months now,” He admits, and his ears flatten a little in embarrassment. He is not used to discussing his feelings, and it feels unnervingly vulnerable. “I know that I am grumpy, and rude, and I do not always express myself well. I have never been good at talking, and I can be too arrogant for my own good—”
You breathe out a shaky laugh and sway a step closer, as though you’re hardly aware what you’re doing. Tsu’tey’s grip tightens carefully on your hips, his breath catching in his chest as he urges you closer yet again.
“I have been so full of desire that it has been difficult to think,” He confesses in a low whisper. “It has been humiliating. I had thought— I did not want to scare you—”
He never gets a chance to finish his explanation. He’s partway through his sentence when you launch yourself into his arms, and he cuts himself off in favour of wrapping his arms around you to stop you from bowling the two of you over.
You start kissing his face all over, peppering eager little butterfly kisses all over the tanhì across his forehead and cheeks and all over his flat nose. He can’t help the delighted rumble that’s ripped out of his chest at the display of affection, and he tries to follow your lips with his face when you start to pull away.
“You’re so stupid,” You whisper, and Tsu’tey is so pleased that you’re smiling again that he doesn’t even feel offended about that. “I’ve been jumping in your lap and holding your hand every chance I’ve gotten. I took my clothes off and sunbathed practically naked with you, and showed you my tits—”
“I thought we were being friends.” He says thickly, leaning forward again in the hopes that you’ll give him another kiss. Even on his knees in front of you as you stand, he is so much larger and bulkier than you; it makes him want to tuck you away and keep you safe forever.
You groan, tilting your head back as though you’re in pain. “Tsu’tey. You’re killing me here.”
He can’t resist the temptation of your head tilted back with your throat bared, and leans forward to press his face into the crook of your neck. He rubs his cheek against your pulse point, feeling satisfaction bloom in his stomach as his scent is spread all over the vulnerable skin of your throat.
“I am sorry, syulang,” He murmurs, his lips brushing over your pulse. He feels you shudder against him, and clutches you tighter. “I thought it was obvious how I felt. The whole clan knows. Do you not see how they watch us?”
The laugh that leaves your mouth is a little thready, and your hands come to rest on Tsu’tey’s shoulders for balance as he nuzzles into your shoulder.
“I thought they were looking at me,” You whispered. “Because I was so obvious about how I liked you.”
Tsu’tey shakes his head, trying to hide the silly grin on his face into your soft shoulder. You like him. All of those months of ridiculous pining and yearning and humiliating stifled desire, only to find out that you desired him too.
“So…” You whisper, and he can hear the smile in your voice. “So, you did like my piercings, then?”
Tsu’tey groans, his fingers spreading wide over your back as he pulls you closer. You’re so much smaller than him that his hand spans almost the whole width of your back, and his heartrate picks up as he feels your soft body press into him.
“Yes,” He murmurs, his ears pinning back in muted shame at the admission. “I liked them.”
The smile that breaks over your face at that is almost blinding, and he’s surprised by your enthusiasm when you grab at his jaw and haul his face closer so that you can capture his lips with your own.
The fact that he’s kissing you nearly stalls his brain, but then he feels the softness of your lips and the wet heat of your tongue, and it feels as though his nerves are set alight. He grunts, using the hand on your back to hold you close against him as he kisses you back eagerly.
He’s trying to be as cautious as possible, worried about hurting you, but you don’t seem to share his concern. In fact, your fervor surprises him. You push at his shoulders, and though you’re not strong enough to shift him he follows your unspoken order anyway, until you’ve guided him all the way back to your bed.
He gasps, his vision going a little blurry as you begin trailing kisses along his jaw. He grabs at the mask to take a few clumsy breaths of air, his body hot and tense as you kiss him.
“Bed,” You breathe, pushing at his shoulders. “Get on the bed.”
“Tawtute,” He says, swallowing thickly. “Should we— do you wish to take this slow?”
You pause then, pulling back a little so that you can level him with a look. He’s always found your strange little face difficult to read, but even he can tell that you look decidedly unimpressed right now.
“You think I want to take this slow?” You repeat, nose crinkling. But then your expression grows a little unsure, and you start to pull away. “Oh. Do you want to take this slow?”
“No.” Tsu’tey says, far too quickly.
The two of you just look at each for a moment, blinking. Then Tsu’tey stands, his knees slightly wobbly after kneeling before you for so long, and sinks down onto your bed. It’s a tight fit, the bulk of his body hunching forward slightly as his knees bunch up, but his slight discomfort is forgotten immediately when you climb up into his lap.
Over the last few months, you have sat in his lap many times. This time is different – this time, you’re straddling his crotch, your lovely thighs bracketing his hips as your soft bottom rests over his cock. You’re still kissing him, your soft lips trailing all over his jawline then up to his mouth again, swallowing the appreciative grunts that pour from his mouth.
When he had imagined this, often late at night with his cock in his hand, he had pictured you soft and eager and sweet – and you are all of those things, but nothing could ever have prepared him for how hungry you are, how impatient and greedy you are as you push him back onto your bed and follow him down. Your bodies are pressed so tight together that there’s hardly an inch of air, yet you seem determined to wriggle even closer.
Tsu’tey moans quietly, leaning back among your threadbare pillows as you do your best to devour him. Your mouth is small, but you happily open it wide as you lick into his mouth, your little tongue tracing over his sharp canines in a way that makes him shiver.
“Can’t believe we had this conversation when I’m in my fucking pajamas,” You murmur into his mouth, pressing your soft fabric-covered tits against his wide chest. “I wanted to be wearing something sexy for this.”
All he can do is close his eyes against the onslaught of your lips and teeth on the exposed skin of his neck. Your small hands smooth over the planes of his chest, hot and possessive as they crawl over the front of his body.
“You are very beautiful, syulang.” Tsu’tey breathes, his hands finding a firm hold on your waist as your weight settles over him.
Then you grind down, and he’s already so aroused but now he can feel the heat of your pussy through those tiny damn shorts of yours and the noise that’s torn from his chest is completely undignified.
He grabs at you. It’s rough and presumptuous and honestly Tsu’tey isn’t even sure it’s a conscious decision, but before he knows it he’s grabbed you by the waist and is pulling you down to grind against his cock.
“Fuck,” You gasp, and Tsu’tey nearly loses it. “Oh god.”
You shuffle back a little, and Tsu’tey nearly audibly whines when he loses that glorious friction over his cock. But it turns out that you’ve only moved so that you have access to his loincloth, which you promptly begin to pull at.
“Mawey, yawntutsyìp.” He croaks out, though he’s already flexing his hips to help you pull his tewng off.
“Been wanting this for ages, you have no idea—”
Tsu’tey swears his head is spinning at the sheer irony of that, because he could have been experiencing this for ages?
His cock is freed from his tewng, slapping against his stomach with an embarrassingly loud smack. When you see how big he is, your eyes widen, and Tsu’tey has a horrible moment of panic where he worries that you’re going to change your mind. He would only be able to accept that choice, but he already knows that it will leave him with the worst case of blue balls he’d ever experienced.
But you don’t let his no doubt intimidating size stop you from reaching out with your small hands to stroke him. A guttural growl is pulled from him, and he tilts his head back against your soft bedding and bites hard at his lip in an effort to control himself as you stroke at him.
“Oh, fuck yes.” You breathe, your expression nothing short of delighted as you stare down at him. He feels vulnerable under your gaze, naked in a way that has nothing to do with the fact that you’ve pulled his tewng off him.
He reaches out, tugs at your top. “I wish to see you, again.”
That makes you smile. The little fabric top you’re wearing is so thin that he can see the outline of your breasts and little nipples already, and as you lean forward to tug at his cock it gapes open at the chest to give him a tantalising glimpse of your bare flesh, but it’s not enough. He wants to see you bare and wanting beneath him. Or on top of him. He’s not fussy.
When you pull your flimsy little fabric covering off, Tsu’tey feels as though he goes momentarily light-headed as his blood rushes south. He’s seen you like this before, that day at the river, but this is different. This time, he’s allowed to touch.
You’re as soft as he’d imagined – softer, even. Tsu’tey’s hands are eager, reaching up to grope and feel, and you tilt your head back and moan softly as he kneads at your delightfully squishy breasts. He just can’t get over how perfect and pliable you are, your supple skin moulding and giving around his hands. He’s never experienced anyone as soft as you; the Na’vi are bigger than the Sky People, and stronger too. His people do not have the same shape, are not soft in the same places as humans. And he’s never thought too much about it, but now he feels like he’s losing himself in your supple flesh.
And then there’s the delicate little barbells in your nipples. Tsu’tey stares, wanting so badly to touch but nervous about going too hard or fast and accidentally hurting you.
“Remember I said they were just to look good?” You breathe, pressing forward a little to encourage his hands to roam over your tits.
“Mm.” Tsu’tey grunts mindlessly. He does recall something of the sort, but he doesn’t think it is fair that you expect him to think when he has your tits in his hands like this, one hand almost spanning your entire chest.
“I lied,” You whisper, your lips curving up in a smile so cheeky that it makes Tsu’tey’s toes curl. “They feel good, too.”
Tsu’tey groans, running his fingers slowly across your skin before finally touching the piercings, his touch smooth and warm.
A low moan of contentment escapes him. "Soft skin. Pretty piercings."
His hands cup your breasts as his thumbs brush over your nipples. You were telling the truth about them; the piercings make you sensitive, and when you shiver under his hands, his gaze darkens.
"I want them in my mouth." He says suddenly, his voice rough and gravelly. His thumbs swipe over them yet again, and he looks up eagerly to you to wait for your permission as you sigh.
You laugh, though it's a breathless and weak sort of a thing. You’re trying to play it cool and casual, but Tsu’tey is holding your soft little breasts in his hands – he can feel your rapid heartbeat against his palm. "Go on, then."
He doesn't waste any time before he's bending his head and pressing harsh, biting kisses all along your chest. Then, getting sick of bending his neck down, he grabs at the flesh of your ass and hauls you up into his arms so that he can mouth at your nipples in earnest.
He licks over your left breast, feeling the little metal barbell against his tongue. It must feel good because you whine, arching your back and pushing your tits into his face even more. Your skin is so soft and sensitive, and it makes his rough tongue and big hands feel clumsy and coarse.
He wraps his lips around your nipple and suckles at it, his tongue playing with the strange little balls at the end of the bars. The metal is cool against his tongue, offering a pleasant contrast to your heated flesh.
“Ungh, shit,” You gasp, your little hands winding into his braids and gripping him there. “Tsu’tey… I wanna suck your cock.”
Tsu’tey freezes, his eyes going wide. Those words rock through him like a physical punch, and he groans as his cock visibly twitches against his stomach. He knows you can feel it, considering you’re still straddling him, and you begin to wiggle your way back as you try to get your face down to his crotch.
But as soon as you get your little hand on his cock, panic shoots through him. It feels good, so good, but he’s sure if you actually put it in your mouth he’ll die. He already knows that if you get your mouth on him everything will be over far too quickly, and he’s not ready to tap out just yet.
He grabs you and rolls, until you’re on your back staring up at him with a surprised little pout.
“I want that, tawtute,” He admits, his voice coming out in a gravelly rumble as he presses a careful kiss to your pouting lips. “But later.”
“But—”
He doesn’t let you finish. He’s too busy kissing your strange, alien little face, then down over your throat. You’re so addictive already. He wants to fuck you and have the whole clan listen, he wants to suck on your tits and have you crying, he wants to play with your clit until it’s puffy and swollen, he wants to play with your cute little hole, he wants to see you bouncing on his cock, on your hands and knees… He feels like he’s been set alight with desire, like the blood in his veins has turned molten.
His fingers hook into your little shorts and pull at them, and you lift your hips to help him tug them off. To his delight, you’re not wearing your tiny little fabric covering under them, and his tail whips in excitement at the sight of you bare beneath him.
“Oh,” He breathes, shuffling himself down your bed. It’s a narrow fit, and cramped, but Tsu’tey doesn’t care; his attention is fixed on you and the way your legs are spreading to accommodate the bulk of his body.
He takes in the sight of you eagerly, bare and glistening wet, and grinding against nothing, and he realises in that moment that his imagination could never have lived up to reality.
“I’m going to take care of you,” He mumbles mindlessly, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to your lovely plush inner thigh. “Going to make you feel so good, syulang.”
“Okay.” You sigh, the word coming out a little wobbly.
Tsu’tey’s tail whips from side-to-side as he gazes at your bare cunt, still hardly able to believe that you’re giving him access to you like this, that you like him too. It feels too good to be true, but Tsu’tey is not about to let this opportunity to pass him by.
“So pretty, yawntutsyìp.” He kisses his words flatly against your puffy lips before coaxing them open with his flat nose. His face is covered in you already, glistening across his lips and chin. But it’s not enough, it won’t be enough until he’s drowning in you.
You taste tangy and sweet, a heady mix of sweat and pheromones that pulls him in ever closer, desperate to drink his fill of you.
But even better than how you taste, is how you react.
You’re up on him so fast he barely has time to blink – no sooner has he laid his lips on your pussy, his mouth so big that it almost swallows you whole, than your hips are bucking up into his face. All he can smell and taste is you, and you’re so fucking wet and suddenly you’re rutting up against his face, not even caring if Tsu’tey’s mouth is open or not, as though you’re so desperate for him that all you can do is use him.
It’s the best day of Tsu’tey’s life. He’s going to mark this day and religiously celebrate it every year.
“Tsu’tey –!” You gasp, rutting your hips into his face. A wild, somewhat unhinged part of him hopes you break his nose. He uses his tongue against your clit and lets you rub yourself all over him, making his brain feel so blissfully empty.
He just moans into you, his hands wrapping around your plush hips and gripping at your squishy little bottom for leverage as he pulls you back against his face. He suckles at you so eagerly, tongue laving over your hole, over and over and over, delighting in the way you gasp and moan and grind into his mouth.
His tail coils as his arousal pulses, forgetting himself as his fingers clench into your soft skin. You sigh, and drop your head back against the pillows as you move your hips to push your pussy back against his tongue. When he spears his tongue into you, you whine, but the sound is muffled somehow—
You’ve bitten your pillow, Tsu’tey realises, and groans. He wants so badly to get his hands on himself, to stroke and tug at his cock as he devours you, but he can’t bring himself to let go of you. He feels as though he’ll die if he lets go of your squishy ass, and his fingers knead insistently at it as he dines on your cunt.
He fucks his tongue into you harder, mouth open and jaw aching in the most satisfying way. It’s all worth it when Tsu’tey realises that you’re crying, just softly, your moans and whines wet, your breaths choked.
Tsu’tey’s fingers find their way to rest against your pussy, pushing in gently when he’s satisfied with how well his tongue worked you open. Once the digits are wet, he pushes two in to the first knuckle. He groans at the feeling of how welcoming your pussy is, how responsive you are to his touch. You cry out, your thighs twitching as he stretches you out.
Your whimpering makes him feel bold, his cock weeping against his thigh. He’s harder than he’s ever been in his life, the frustrating ache in his balls is poured right into the quickening pace of his fingers. He wants you to break— to crumble into pieces just so he can put you back together.
“Tsu’tey,” You slur out, your fingers gripping at his braids as you writhe under his attention. “Need to slow down, or I’m gonna—I’m gonna come—”
Your words fall on deaf ears; Tsu’tey is practically hypnotised by your little whimpers and cries as he sucks and licks eagerly at your squishy wet pussy, his fingers twisting and rubbing all along your hot, clutching insides. He feels desperate to experience you come against his tongue, and his movements take on an edge of fervor as he opens his mouth wide to suck your whole cunt into his mouth.
You squeal, hips bucking, and your feet kick out until they’ve landed on his shoulders. Tsu’tey moans, pleased by your reaction, and his mouth seals firmly around you as his tongue laps at your clit.
Your thighs suddenly clench around his head, keeping it in place, and he increases his pace, keeping it rhythmic for you. He buries his nose into your little swollen clit, letting out a hungry little noise as he sucks at you.
And then you’re gasping, the line of your body going taut and stiff as your orgasm rolls through you. Tsu’tey doesn’t relent, sucking and licking at you as you tremble and shake apart. Your release tastes so sweet, like hot syrup on his tongue, and he can’t get enough of you. Your thighs grip his head so hard that the muscles tremble, and he relishes the pressure of your legs squeezing around his skull.
It doesn’t take long before your legs are kicking again, wheezing as you grow oversensitive and push at his head. With great reluctance, Tsu’tey pulls his mouth away with a wet ‘pop’, licking his lips before leaning in to suckle a series of biting kisses around your inner thighs.
He feels a little light-headed, still so hungry. He knows his eyes are heavy-lidded with his own arousal, his whole body throbbing with the need to take you, but he’s trying so damn hard to control himself.
“Oh god… fuck.” You breathe, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling.
That certainly strokes Tsu’tey’s male pride, and he looks up at you with a pleased, if slightly dazed, smile. He’s breathing heavily still from having devoted his entire attention to pleasing you and forgetting to breathe, and it takes a moment for him to realise he needs to sip from the stupid mask. He fumbles for a moment, grabbing at it and taking several deep breaths before dropping it again and leaning up to kiss at your cute little lower belly.
“It was good?” He asks. Judging by the look on your face he knows the answer, but he can’t help but want to hear it straight from your mouth.
You laugh, a little disbelievingly, then place a hand onto his chest and push lightly at him until he’s rolling over onto his back. You follow, swinging your leg over his hips and settling down so that your spit-slick pussy is nestled right up against his hard cock.
“So good,” You whisper, and it practically comes out like a purr. “So fucking good.”
Tsu’tey’s tail curls and his ears fold back, his stomach swooping in anticipation at the coy tone of your voice. His cock twitches too, very interested in the way you’re sitting on it. When you rock your hips lightly, allowing your slick pussy to glide along his length, he groans breathily before reaching to grab at your waist, trying to hold you still.
“Wait, syulang.” He says, his voice coming out embarrassingly hoarse. “You are so small, I don’t want to hurt you.”
He’s not expecting you to laugh at that, as though he’s said something that you find adorable. You lean in and kiss him, your lips soft against his hot, swollen ones.
“You’re not the first Na’vi I’ve had,” You whisper against his mouth, giving him yet another sweet kiss. “I know what I’m doing.”
He bristles at the thought of another Na’vi hunching over your little body, rutting into your hot wet softness. His hands tighten around your waist as a bolt of possessive jealousy flashes through him.
“Who?” He demands, his face scrunching up in a scowl.
You just giggle, leaning down to kiss the wide bridge of his nose. Tsu’tey’s ears fold down, a little mollified by how cute you are, though his scowl doesn’t lessen much. Your hand runs over his chest, your fingers stroking over his heated skin.
“Oh, shush.” You say with a fond smile, as though you think he’s joking. “What, did you expect me live like a nun while you were ignoring me all that time? I didn’t even think you liked me.”
Tsu’tey doesn’t know what a nun is, but he’s distracted before he can ask. You lean down slowly, running the tip of your tongue along his throat. You pause to bite him gently right where his vein pulses, and the rush of sensations from your touch nearly sends him spiraling.
“Besides,” You whisper, “I feel like you just sucked my soul out through my pussy, so I really don’t think anyone else is ever going to compare.”
The purr that your words pull out of him at that is embarrassing, but his body reacts before his brain does. Yes, he thinks smugly, I am better. It feels incredibly important to him that you know he is the best option, the man that can please you best.
Tsu’tey feels like he’s melting under you. The heat of your bare slick cunt against the length of his cock is fanning a fire in his blood. He bites at his lip as he feels your lips on his pulse, harder now, kissing softly, tongue flicking against the skin.
Your hand slides lower, and then finally your hand wraps around the base of his cock. He groans, bucks up, but didn’t mean to. Thankfully you just laugh, obviously amused as you’re lifted up by the momentum of his hips.
 “Tsu’tey, baby,” You whisper, and oh, your voice is going to drive him insane. “Does it hurt, being this hard?”
Tsu’tey openly chokes, and you give him one slow stroke. The feeling of your small soft hand against him has his mind blanking entirely for a second. You pause to rub your thumb under his cockhead, against the bundle of nerves there, and Tsu’tey moans as his eyes flutter shut.
“Pretty boy,” You whisper, and Tsu’tey gasps, feeling his lip quiver. He cracks his eyes open, just to see you smiling down at him. “Do you like when I call you pretty?”
Tsu’tey looks away and says nothing – but you just giggle.
“You’re pouting, Tsu’tey.”
“I am not.” He grumbles, though his cheeks are uncomfortably warm.
Your hands move, one stroking around his cock, the other cradling his balls. Tsu’tey arches, pushes into your hand as you twist your fist around his glans. His mouth falls open, a breathy moan escaping, and you visibly shiver. He tries to push himself up on his elbows so that he can watch as you shift atop him, hips rocking forward gently as you stroke at him.
“Syulang,” He manages, licking at his lips as his voice comes out all breathy and desperate. “Please.”
You grin at him, your eyes soft and affectionate as you watch him disintegrate beneath your touch. Then you’re lifting up onto your knees, using his chest as leverage, and Tsu’tey holds his breath as you position yourself over his cock.
“Breathe, baby.” You laugh, taking his mask and holding it up to his face.
He takes several deep breaths, feels the blurred edges of his mind sharpen, and reaches down to grab his cock. He helps you to position it, his cockhead gliding along your slick folds.
He has to pause for a moment, closing his eyes as his ears flatten back against his head. You’re so damn soft, your cunt is so hot and sticky wet, and he already knows that the moment his cock pushes inside of you he’ll be fighting for his life not to come instantly. He just wants to last long enough to please you, to make you feel good.
You let out a soft noise, your hips twitching as you try to hump your pussy back onto his cock. He has to grab your hips to keep you still, grunting.
“You’re teasing.” You whine, clutching at his arms as you try to wiggle your way back onto him.
“Mph.” Tsu’tey grunts, squeezing his eyes shut as he tries to contain himself. “Mawey, syulang. Patience.”
But patience doesn’t seem to be your strong suit. Your bright eyes have gone dark, pupils blown, forehead glimmering with sweat – you look beautiful, and Tsu’tey feels like he’s dying.
You lean forward and crash your mouth into his, kissing him hard and messy as you wriggle in his lap, trying to coax his cock inside you. Tsu’tey moans into your mouth, but then you’re pulling back, and your lips press against his nose, his cheeks, his forehead.
Still breathing deeply, Tsu’tey aligns his cock against your pussy, and at the same time as his sweet girl peppers his face with kisses, he begins to push inside. You whine at the pressure of the stretch, your forehead pressed against his as he presses his cock into you slowly, as slowly as he can manage.
“Come on,” You groan, leaning forward and letting your blunt little teeth scrape over the sensitive tip of his ear. “Put it in, put it in, put it in—”
“Calm,” Tsu’tey gasps, clutching at your plush little hips in an effort to keep you from slamming yourself down on him all at once. “Calm, yawntutsyìp, I do not wish to hurt you—”
But his words are lost when you shift over him right as he begins to press into you again, and from one second to the next he slides half-way inside, past the small ring of resistance and into the velvety hot inside of your cunt.
It’s like a gut punch.
He moans like a dying man and holds you as tight as he can in an attempt to ground himself enough not to start thrusting. You gasp, your features scrunching into a pained wince as you’re split wide around the thickness of his cock. He doesn’t need you to vocalise your discomfort, so he rubs your puffy clit to try and make it better for you. His calloused thumb rubs slow circles on it at the same time as you bury your face in the crook of his neck, panting and whimpering. 
Fuck, he needs to move.
Just a bit –
Just to take the edge off –
His hips pull back and then quickly snap forward again. “Fuck.”
It’s so easy it’s sinful. He pushes through the tightest cunt he has ever been in and it feels like home. He groans roughly, his arms wrapping around your waist as he tries to catch his breath. He can’t help but look down, and he almost whimpers at the sight of your cunt stretched wide around his thick length, at the aborted little twitching of your hips as you try admirably hard to take him in deeper. You’re so much tighter than he expected, and it takes everything in him to pull back again.
When he withdraws, your pussy grips him all the way to the tip, making him feel so insane he had to immediately dive back in, gasping. He’s too big to fit inside of you completely, but that’s okay; your tiny pussy grips hard enough at the length that you can take that Tsu’tey feels like he’s about to black out.
“Yes!” You cry out, arching your chest against his so that he can feel the cool sensation of your piercings against his skin, your fingers knotting into his braids as you lift yourself up then down on his cock, meeting his sloppy thrusts.
Tsu’tey feels as though the world is fracturing around him as he pushes himself into your tiny little cunt, feeling your pussy clench around his cock like a fist. It's so tight and sweet, his dick feels as though it's being pulled into paradise.
Being inside you is heavenly; it’s like your sweet little pussy is made for him, molding to him and stretching where it needs to, squeezing him tight to the point of pain. He pistons in and out of you from below, finding his own pace as the bed shakes from the force of his thrusts. You make soft, wet little sounds, a wanton creature in response in response as you undulate atop of him.
Your tits bounce every time he thrusts up into you, and he finds his eyes glued to sight before his self-control cracks and he’s leaning forward to take one of your breasts into his mouth. It takes a bit of contortion, his spine curving as his mouth locks around your tit, his tongue rolling against your little pierced nipple, his ears wiggling eagerly as they pick up your little mewls.
Oh, he’s not going to last long; he already feels like he’s losing his mind.
Soft, desperate little noises are babbling out of your mouth as you fuck yourself down on his cock, clutching at his shoulders for balance. Your jaw is slack and your mouth is open, and Tsu’tey can see flashes of your little pink tongue as you gasp and whimper everytime he rolls his hips up into you. Your movements have taken on an edge of desperation as you ride him, your pussy squeezing him so tight his vision is going blurry.
Then your little body is seizing, weak gasping moans spilling from your lips as your spine goes stiff. Your cunt clenches in sporadic little pulses, and Tsu’tey nearly roars at the intensity of it – your pussy sucks so tight that it almost hurts. It’s a weaker orgasm than your first one, but you still sob your way through it as you clutch at him.
“Oh, syulang, fuck.” Tsu’tey grits out, the human curse word sounding coarse and foreign on his tongue.
He wants to do this forever, to stay buried in you all night, but you’re sucking him in and clinging to him in a vice grip as you push back against him, and he’s about to explode. He’s overwrought, grunting against your sweat-damp skin as he clutches your soft little body close to him, the motion of his hips turning jerky and sloppy as he feels that tingly pressure grow in his stomach.
He lifts you off his cock with a cut-off snarl, grabbing at his cock with a clumsy hand as that pressure bubbles over. He comes with more force than he had been expecting, his come spurting out onto your belly and over your tits, dripping steadily over your smooth skin.
Part of him is a little embarrassed about how quickly he had come, but the larger part of him feels it was impressive that he didn’t spill the instant he got his cock inside of you. But you’re pouting up at him, clutching at his chest as you push back against him.
“No,” You whine, your voice quiet and tired as you try to grind your messy pussy back onto him. “Wanted you to come inside.”
Tsu’tey is already breathless, but the sweet little whimper in your voice nearly knocks him flat yet again. His cock is still throbbing, the last few drops of his release spurting out and glowing lightly against your skin. He takes in the sight of his seed spattered across your pretty little body greedily, committing it to memory. Nothing in his raunchiest wet dreams could have compared to the reality of this moment.
“We will have time for that, yawntutsyìp,” He whispers, his stomach clenching in excitement at the thought. “You will not need another man again.”
You grumble lightly, but he can see the satisfied little smile on your face as you go limp in his arms, burrowing closer to his chest as you collapse down next to him. Having you in his arms feels perfect; his tail curls in satisfaction when he realises how perfectly you fit against his chest, and he purrs smugly as he nudges his nose against your temple.
He rolls, scooping you up and arranging you so that you’re laying sprawled at his side, before curving his body around yours and wrapping an arm around your little body. Your body is still glistening with sweat and the dimly bioluminescent streaks of come that Tsu’tey has left on you – he’s torn between the urge to care for you, to clean you up and make sure that you’re sated and pleased, and to leave you marked and carrying his scent.
He’ll clean you up in a few minutes, he decides, allowing himself to enjoy the sight of you after being thoroughly claimed for a little while longer.
“If you ever say we’re just friends again I’ll kick your ass.” You mumble, pressing your face into his pectoral muscles.
You’re acting as though your bones have been dissolved into jelly, laying all limp and pliable against him even as you squirm closer. Tsu’tey allows himself to just stare at you, admiring all the subtle little bite-marks and bruising that he can’t remember leaving behind, admiring your puffy nipples and your still gooey cunt.
“Mm.” Tsu’tey hums, dipping his head down and laying it carefully on your chest. He’s a little nervous that he’ll be too heavy, but your small hands come up to tangle in his braids and scratch soothingly at his scalp. He allows his eyes to flutter shut, enjoying the plush softness of your breasts under his face.
“I like you very much, syulang.” He says, enjoying the pulse of your heartbeat beneath his head. “I am sorry that I have been slow to understand your interest.”
You laugh a little sleepily, craning your neck so that you can kiss his forehead before laying back again. “You certainly did a good job showing me your interest just now.”
“I will do more,” Tsu’tey promises, hardly even aware of what he’s saying. “I will collect kllpxiwll berries for you everyday, and go swimming as often as you like, and make you pretty jewelry, and keep you satisfied—”
You start to laugh before he even finishes.
“Who would’ve known a big grumpy asshole like you is capable of being so romantic.” You snicker as he nuzzles into your tits.
Your lack of a tail and blunt ears make it hard for him to read you, but he can tell by your tone of voice that you’re teasing him. He just curls around you, not minding at all. He enjoys the thought of proving to you exactly how romantic he can be – he has much to prove, and much to make up for.
“I am not grumpy now.” He mutters, turning his face so that it’s buried neatly in between your tits. He licks lazily over your left breast, savouring the feeling of the little silver barbell nestled in your nipple against his tongue.
You shiver, a soft little overwhelmed gasp escaping your lips as he kisses leisurely at your puffy and oversensitive nipples.
“No,” You murmur, and he can hear the fondness in your voice. “You’re not.”
Tsu’tey purrs, his whole body curving around you as he kisses absent-mindedly at your tits, his thoughts pleasantly hazy and somewhat nebulous.
“Breathe.” You remind him tiredly, your voice a little slurred around the edges with sleep.
Upon your urging, he lifts the stupid mask back up to his face and fits it clumsily over his mouth and nose. He wraps his arm around your waist, holds you tight, and just breathes as the two of you lay together, sated and satisfied.
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satorusdiary · 11 months
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hot rich dilf + babysitter reader
dilf! toji fushiguro x reader Mafia AU
age gap (reader is 21, toji is 39) + smut & fluff + reader is in college + toji is a rich man who lives a dangerous life
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toji fushiguro.
the biggest mafia boss around Japan, a single dad, with one kid. he is also living in one of the most beautiful houses in Japan. the richest neighborhoods around on the hills, where no one is able to see it well.
whenever you would hear, see, or look at that name wherever you are in the city all you think about is hot, rich dilf.
it’s wrong to think of that, especially when you were the babysitter for his son. yet, toji couldn’t risk the dangers of his son being taken cared of in a public daycare; where anyone can take him and possibly use him as ransom.
that’s why he has you, his personal baby sitter. the young, beautiful woman who is still in college, taking care of his child. something his ex whore of a wife couldn’t do.
whenever you get a text whilst taking classes, your heart skips a beat and your thighs clench together at who the message is from.
Toji sent 1:23 pm
Hey, y/n. I’m sorry for the sudden message, is it alright if you babysit megumi around 4? I have important things to take care of at work.
he is a dangerous man, yet you would never back down taking care of his child. you are putting yourself in major risks, but whenever you would see toji’s frame holding megumi on his hip you think differently.
megumi is a different story, he is a splitting image of his father besides the scars. he’s a sweet boy, kind and respectful to you, and would constantly always want you over to his fathers house.
you enjoy his company, him and his father.
You sent 1:25 pm
of course, not a problem! my classes are ending so i’ll be able to be there by the time you’re about to leave.
Toji sent 1:25 pm
Great, thank you so much. I will double your payment for being able to take care of Megumi during a school day. Thank you again.
not to mention, how good the payment is! by the end of the day you are able to pay 3 months worth of rent for your apartment. there is never a time where you never have left over money for yourself.
you always think it’s a mistake by how much he pays you, how delusional you were missing all the signs he has given you.
the amount of times he would wink at you, with that sexy smirk on his scarred lips. the way he would love you out the way with a hand on your waist, carefully pushing you to the side.
and the way he gives you cheek kisses, saying it’s a friendly greeting towards everyone when he knows damn well he doesn’t kiss anyone’s cheek besides yours and megumis.
his hopes continue, his hopes in you falling for him continue to increase.
toji will always protect you, and megumi. even if you are just a baby sitter, to him you were more than that.
he appreciates the time you put in for his son, and for him. and he appreciates how you always manage to come to his house earlier than expected just to take care of megumi.
toji approaches you with a tight black suit, one that hugs his muscular frame insanely well. your thighs rub against each other without you noticing.
something that wants your heart is when he hold megumis hand, whilst approaching you. it’s cute and wholesome.
“megs, you be good for y/n okay? i’ll be back in a bit.” toji kisses megumis forehead, letting go of his hand before making his way towards you with a small, but seductive grin.
like always, he kisses your cheek before saying a word to you. your stomach has butterflies fluttering around, he continues to sweet talk you.
it’s funny, how could such a dangerous man who does unthinkable things everyday warm your heart in such a way?
“thank you so much, again y/n. here is the money, please be safe and help yourself around the house.” his green eyes pierce through your e/c eyes. his hands giving you a stack of money, more than usual.
your eyes widened, it’s too much. it’s almost as if you depend on him too much with the amount of money he gives you for what, just a few hours of you taking care of megumi?
"mr fushiguro, i cannot accept this. why are you handing me so much?" you questioned, looking up at his tall frame.
he shakes his head and chuckles, pushing your hand that was holding the money closer to your chest.
"its for you, and your hard work. don't question it, you deserve it sweetheart." the pet name slips out, but he has no shame in calling you that. you are his sweetheart after all.
before you could say anything else, he continues on. and continues to make you flustered with his words, and expressions.
"oh, and y/n dear, call me toji. no need to be so formal when you have done so much for me, and my son." he caresses your cheek before brushing past you, grabbing his hat and work jacket from the coat hanger.
"..thank you, so much toji! i will forever appreciate everything you have done for me sir." you smile up at him, waving him goodbye before he is out the door.
"not a problem, dear. you both take care, be back inna bit." he closes the door. the smile on your face hasn't left, and the fast speed of your hear beating increases as you lock the door with its additional locks.
you snap out of your joyful thoughts when megumi embraces you with his small, slightly chubby arms. they close around your waist as he looks up from your stomach with a heart warming smile.
"why cant you just get with my dad, y/n? he likes you soo much, and you treat us so well." he frowns, eyes glossy and filled with adortion.
your heart weeps, his stare makes you double think everything. what if you did get with toji?
"megs.. i don't think he likes me like that sweetheart. and its okay! its okay just being your baby sitter." you pick him up, placing him on your hip while you walk towards his play area. it was clean, free of toys scattered everywhere in the room.
"you're so wrong! i know he likes you a lot. he kisses your cheek, and forehead like me! that means he loves you." the word that holds so much power, and strength over anyone slips from his lips. yet he doesn't try to apologize and make it out as a mistake.
"not only that, but you are like a mommy to me. better than the other one, don't leave tonight. please y/n!" he cries out, hugging you as tight as he can.
you look down at him, sitting on the bed with a sad expression. you never knew how much megumi had actually cared for you. and it amazed you how good he was able to speak as a 4 year old.
"megumi,' you start off, watching as he looks up at you with teary eyes.
"i'll see if i could stay tonight, but just for tonight!" you tell him, his lips automatically curl into a big smile, before he kisses you on the cheeks. the same way his father does.
"yay! thanks y/n. now can we play, please?" he slips out of your embrace and begins pulling out toys from his drawer, handing you a big car which you take from his small hands.
"sure, megumi. if you want, ill take you to the park after?" you question and get on your knees, getting down to his level so you would be able to play properly.
he nods his head repeatedly, you wonder if his cheeks every get tired from smiling so much.
"yes! thank you y/n, you're the best!"
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the day goes by fast, now you are sitting on megumi's bed, tucking him in before he goes to sleep.
"y-you're gonna stay tonight, right y/n?" the little boy questions, turning to look at you. the only source of light was the hallway lights, through the opened door.
you stay silent for a few seconds, giving him a hopeful smile that would make him feel better.
"i'll see, i still have to check in with your dad." you replied. deep down you knew you wouldn't stay over, especially when you knew it would be pretty weird to stay over at your bosses house, just for his kid over night.
you would just have to make up a lie by tomorrow, apologizing to the younger boy on why you couldn't stay over.
i'll say i had classes! yeah that is a good excuse. you thought to yourself.
"okay.. goodnight y/n." megumi utters, smiling before he closes his eyes and drifts off the sleep.
you stay in the same position, watching him peacefully drift off with his hand loosely around yours. after a few minutes, you knew you had to go home.
"bye megs.." you whisper, kissing his head before standing up from his bed, walking towards the outside of his bedroom.
you sighed and began walking down the hallway, towards the exit of the home.
“you’re not gonna stay the night?” a voice startles you, making your turn around with a hand over your heart.
“toji-san! w-when did you get home?” you nervously laughed, and breathed in heavily as he walked towards you.
your heart jumps to your throat as he looks down at you, the tension was high.
his hand reaches your shoulder, squeezing and rubbing over it seductively. a smirk appearing on his features, that stupid sexy smirk that makes your pussy heat up.
“don’t mind that darling. as i said, you’re not gonna stay the night? thought you wanted to be with megs?” the smirk turns into a small frown, making you rethink on why you were going to leave in the first place.
“‘m sorry.. i-i just didn’t think you would be comfortable with it.” you admitted, looking up at him with guilty eyes.
your hand clutches your tote bag, the both of you stay in silence before he speaks up. a kiss being left on your forehead, it drowns out the guilty feeling and lights up your features.
“it’s fine sweets. y’want to talk for a bit and have dinner together? i don’t mind you staying over, megumi has a strong liking for you.” he waits for a response.
it’s almost embarrassing to you how fast you nodded your head, yet toji chuckles at how dedicated you were towards the offer.
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you did not go home that night, as expected. but what happened was something you never thought would happen at all.
you thought you would be in your own bedroom, but here you were. face flat onto toji’s pillows, and him behind you groping your body in many ways. his cock drilling inside your plush, tight pussy.
“you’re so beautiful, my love.” his words continue to make you cry, both ways. he flips you over so his hand would be able to wrap around your breast, and the other caressing your head as you take all of him inside of you.
“daddy— ‘s so good!” you cry out, mind getting foggy as you look at him with the most love and adoration expression he could ever make out. his heart melts.
he shuts you up with a kiss, tongues clashing together as his hands roam around your love handles, squeezing and slapping them.
you moan into the kiss, it’s muffled but he was able to hear it clearly. the sound was music to his ears, making him slam into you rougher and deeper, his cock abusing your g-spot.
you were just too beautiful, too pure for him. he couldn’t resist you. the day he met you in a coffee shop he knew he wanted you, and you would become his.
“shh, baby. can’t forget gumi is sleeping, hm?” he hums, pulling away from your pouty, swollen lips.
“sorry.. ‘jus feels too good. love your cock s’ much tojii.” you moan once again. your hand interlaces with his bigger hands, pinning you down on his large bed.
“i know, sweet girl. you almost needa cum?” he coo’s into your ear, large, muscular hand going down onto your stomach. your womb filled with toji’s hot seed.
you whine, nodding repeatedly and look up at him with desperate eyes. sobs leave your mouth, the bubbly feeling in your stomach begging to be released.
“please! need t’ cum, lemme cum daddy.. please!” you beg over and over, it’s adorable to him. the way you’re so desperate for him, and his cock. even if it’s bullying your insides.
arousal floods into your insides, the way toji lowly groans on top of you makes you see the stars.
“cum with me, my dear.” he moans out, hands gripping at your waist as he continues to slams you down on his veiny, hard, big cock.
just like that, you realease all over him. you hadn’t even notice you squirted. the feeling of toji filling you to the brim once again made your eyes foggy, filled with tears. thankfully toji was there to wipe away any tears left.
hot cum continues to spurt into your pussy, the feeling of your walls clenching over his cock so well makes toji’s feelings for you grow stronger.
“my beautiful, princess.” he whispers through heavy breathes. your heart beating even faster as his hands cup your jaw, pulling you into another heated kiss.
“starting now, you’re mine. my little girl.”
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echoesofcamelot · 5 months
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Do you ever stop and think about the absolute merthur bliss that Merlin season 1 is?
Seriously. Consider:
First we have the gayest first meeting in history with lines like 'Do you know how to walk on your knees?' and 'I could take you apart with one blow - I could take you apart with less than that.’ We end the first episode with Gaius referring to Arthur as Merlin's destiny: 'Your destiny is calling. You'd better find out what HE wants.'
Then in the second episode a dragon calls Arthur Merlin's other half: 'A half cannot truly hate that which makes it whole.' Soulmates alert!
3rd episode and the dragon calls them two sides of the same coin. Also Arthur says he can’t imagine giving up his life for someone because he hasn't found the right person to love. Which makes the events of episode 4 even more significant.
4th episode and they both try to die for each other. More than once. Also they are so soulmates that Merlin can see what Arthur is doing while he lays unconscious and sends a light to guide him while MOANING HIS NAME.
5th episode and Arthur is jealous of Lancelot because Merlin seems so enamoured with him but then he develops a crush on Lancelot too and tells him he needs him???? Merlin casually asks Gwen who she'd choose between Arthur and Lancelot like he has that very same dilemma.
Episode 7. Arthur shows some interest in a girl for the first time but only because he is under a spell. Merlin literally kills his love interest and then dives into a lake to save Arthur from drowning and holds him like he is the most precious thing in the world.
Episode 8. Merlin ponders leaving a child to die because he might kill Arthur when he grows up. He says that the boy dying would be bad, but the alternative (Arthur dying) is UNTHINKABLE.
Episode 9. Uther fucking Pendragon gives Merlin his blessing. 'There is a bond between us.' 'I'm glad. Look after him.' (They were so insane for this actually)
Episode 10. Arthur follows Merlin to his village and sleeps on the floor with him and asks questions about his childhood in the quiet of the dark. Merlin overhears Morgana telling Gwen about how much Arthur cares about Merlin. Merlin's mum tells him how obvious it is that Arthur likes him and tells him she has seen how much they need each other. So yeah she basically gives Arthur her blessing too :,)
Episode 11. They try to die for each other again. They literally argue about who is going to die for whom. Arthur wins and a curse is lifted thanks to the love he has in his heart. His love for Merlin saves the day!!!!
Episode 13. Surprise! Merlin tries to give his life for Arthur once more. 'His life is worth a hundred of mine.' He cradles Arthur's head in his lap while Gaius gives him the magic cure and then smiles and laughs filled with relief when he finds out Arthur will live even though that means he will die in his place. When Arthur recovers he says he has this feeling that someone is always watching over him and Uther tells him that he must have a guardian angel. Yes you've heard right they call MERLIN ARTHUR'S GUARDIAN ANGEL.
First season has no subtext it has bold underlined text and I love it SO MUCH.
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nyerus · 7 months
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The Narrative Importantance of Hualian's Sexual Intimacy
This is a repost and minor edit of a thread I made on Twitter yesterday. This is a topic I have always wanted to talk about because of how often it comes up in TGCF fandom, time and time again.
‼️CW: mentions of sexual assault, self-harm, bodily injury‼️
⚠️Major spoilers for the entire novel ahead⚠️
---
Saw a question the other day on what relevance Hualian being sexually intimate by the end of the novel had to either the narrative or Xie Lian's character arc.
In short: it bears significant relevance, especially in context of other themes the novel explores like bodily autonomy.
Throughout the novel, we see time and time again that Xie Lian is often dehumanized by pretty much everyone—including himself—with the sole exception of Hua Cheng. I've talked more in depth about it in an old twt thread, for those interested. @/stalliondany on twt has also made an excellent recent analysis that goes deeper into the specific ways Xie Lian was used as a physical shield, martyr, or scapegoat for others without thought to his humanity or suffering. I highly recommend reading it first!
But to sum it all up: it's important to Xie Lian's character arc to keep in mind that he is used to seeing his own body as a tool to solve problems. And in crucial narrative moments, he is robbed of his bodily autonomy, and either brutalized or violated in service of others.
One of the plot points that ties together all these concepts is actually... Xie Lian's chastity vows. That will be the main focus of this post.
When he was a young teen (or possibly as a child), Xie Lian took an oath of chastity because such was the norm for cultivators seeking ascension in Xian Le. To Xie Lian, even as he grew older, he never had an issue with this because he just never felt sexual attraction to another person, or any desire to be intimate in that way. Even if he yearned for the concept of being loved. And indeed, at first glance, his chastity vows may seem like nothing more than a side note. Or even a funny gag when it comes to Hua Cheng (later).
In reality Xie Lian's chastity vows are not only used against him, but paint a very disturbing picture with regards to his repeated violation.
The Land of the Tender scene is the most obvious example of this. Xie Lian's vows are directly tied to his spiritual powers, and because it affects how his followers see him. They place a high value on his chastity as being vital to his moral character.
For reference, an excerpt from TGCF vol. 3 of the English print translation, page 135:
Xie Lian's method of cultivation required a pure body. Those who worshipped the ascended cultivators who practiced this path were firmly convinced of the transcendence of gods untouched by earthly desires. If they couldn't protect their purity, their following would no doubt collapse and their powers would be devastated. It wouldn't be as serious as plunging from godhood to back to mortality, and there was still the possibility of recovery after many more years of cultivation—but with things as they were now, there was no time for him to sit behind closed doors and cultivate for years!
As a reminder: it is Bai Wuxiang who orchestrated this whole thing. Him trying to compromise Xie Lian in this way is horrific on many levels, yet that's not the main point I want to make here. It's that to preserve his "pure body," the solution Xie Lian realizes is to severely harm himself. To impale himself with his sword through the abdomen.
The juxtaposition of having to maintain bodily purity versus the gruesome violence inflicted on his body is extremely stark.
This grim contrast is no more evident than in the 100 swords scene. Where Xie Lian's body is literally brutalized and defiled to an unthinkable degree. To the point where he, quote: "no longer looked human." Yet he emerges from that temple physically "pure" all the same. His chastity vows were not broken, his body healed without scars. As though he was untouched.... And yet, he was completely destroyed mentally. It left permanent effects on him as a person. It's even worse when the scene is read analogous to sexual assault, as many have talked about before. I think that interpretation actually hits the nail on the head, especially keeping in mind the Land of the Tender scene and all the similarities between them.
Following the 100 swords scene, Xie Lian of course has a complete disconnect between himself and his body. I believe this is part of why he doesn't really feel pain, except when he is with Hua Cheng, who treats him and his body as one. As a person who is cherished, and loved. Hua Cheng is adamant in his adoring treatment of Xie Lian. Small injuries are also something he cannot tolerate because he knows what horrors befell Xie Lian in the past. (He was present at both the terrible moments mentioned above.) He will not let any of that continue, regardless of what Xie Lian says, because he sees it as injustice.
Xie Lian is willing to use himself as a tool to help others no matter the personal cost. He even thinks of it as something he must do, or that he deserves as penance. But Hua Cheng is the one person who asks "what about you?" He's the one that insists "your happiness matters." And it is Hua Cheng that takes issue with Xie Lian's chastity vows as being unfair, unlike everyone else. Regardless of Hua Cheng's reasons for this diegetically, symbolically it means a lot that he is the one opposed to this.
Just thinking about the chastity vows on their own for a moment: Xie Lian can indulge a little bit in stuff like alcohol, which isn't great to begin with for him. But he absolutely cannot engage in "pleasures of the flesh." He can totally have his flesh ripped from his bones, literally, but actually experiencing any kind of sexual gratification? Now that would make him unclean, and lesser.... Why? Because unlike everything else, that's something Xie Lian would do simply for himself to feel good. And what greater crime is there than to ever dare put himself first?
So Hua Cheng—being the one person who puts Xie Lian first above all else—thinking that such a restriction doesn't make sense is important. Hua Cheng being the person who Xie Lian breaks those vows for in the end is important! (Especially because it seems to have been an easy choice for him.)
And of course, the scene with Jun Wu and the Virginity Detector Sword™ has to be mentioned. Again, there's symbolism to be had! The perpetrator of two of the most physically violating moments of Xie Lian's life (both of which were sexual in nature; one literally and one allegorically) being the one to "check" Xie Lian's virginity... oof. Yikes. It's dramatic irony. It's deeply uncomfortable. Especially because Jun Wu probably wanted to know if Xie Lian slept with Hua Cheng, as he already knew Xie Lian wasn't the ghost fetus' father.
So it's once again a stark juxtaposition: of Ghost King Hua Cheng disagreeing with the purity vows, wanting Xie Lian to break them for himself and his own freedom. Versus Heavenly Emperor Jun Wu wanting to weaponize those vows against Xie Lian in whatever way he can, intact or not, to keep control over him.
Naturally, there's something to be said for the real-world problem with such purity vows being used against people, to judge their moral character, societal expectations, etc. Elephant in the room. It's very on the nose, so there isn't even much to say about it that hasn't been said already.
In the end, it comes down to how horrible it is that when Xie Lian tries to help others, it results in immense harm to his body every time. Yet he is expected to continue to bear it, for centuries, by others and also himself. Until he meets Hua Cheng, who helps him rediscover what it means to be happy, and to be loved. So yes, it's absolutely relevant that in the end, Xie Lian decides to break his purity vows to be intimate with Hua Cheng. That he's able to put himself in Hua Cheng's hands, and let himself be treated with affection and desire. It's Xie Lian finally forgiving himself, and beginning to heal.
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bvtbxtch · 10 months
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Angry Heart | Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader (Part 2: Graduation)
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Series Summary: Your best friend Chrissy Cunningham always got everything she ever wanted, even you new friend and crush Eddie Munson. When Chrissy does the unthinkable, Eddie is left to pick up the pieces alone... or is he?
Chapter Summary: Ditching Eddie and Chrissy might have been the best decision you ever made. You were now graduated, had a great group of friends and a new found confidence. But even though it was a great choice, you still felt a piece of your heart missing. With a few mysterious phone calls and a box full of things, maybe you were right in feeling a little cautious about your choice to leave the metalhead alone.
Pairings: Eddie Munson x Chrissy Cunningham, Eddie Munson x Reader (eventually), reader and Chrissy are friends but have a fallout. Minimal usage of Y/N
Series warnings: MDNI 18 +, Smut, fluff and angst (everything all rolled into one beautiful shit show), mentions of drugs and alcohol being consumed, overall adult language and theme. By clicking the read more, you agree that you are over 18! Ageless and minor blogs who interact will be blocked.
Word Count: 11.5k (SORRY)
A/N: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE LOVE ON THIS LITTLE STORY. Thank you for being patient with me as well. I was not anticipating in it taking a month to get this part out but I have had some health issues that really had to take precedent first before I could relax and start writing. Thank you so much to everyone who reached out to see if I was okay <3 I did just want to mention that after this part, I will NOT be adding a taglist. You are all so incredibly supportive but I have been (still) getting DMs and replies about being on the taglist and I am feeling a little overwhelmed. I will be making a masterlist and when I do make that, I will add everyone from the AH taglist <3 thank you for understanding!!
Prologue
Part 1
Part 3
Part 4
June 1986
You had awaited this day for what seemed forever. You had planned what life after high school was going to look like for you since you were in middle school. Chrissy had infiltrated your plans as soon as you met; you often imagined the two of you moving to Indianapolis, or even to New York. You would get a shitty little apartment together and you would find jobs working in bookstores or coffee shops and have next to no money, but you would be together, and you would be on your own. Eddie also quickly ended up being part of your after school plans. He would move with you, or maybe get an apartment with Gareth and Jeff and then the five of you would go on adventures all over whatever city you overran. That was one of the things you loved the most about Eddie, his ability to find adventure wherever he went and whatever he was doing. Maybe there would be some opportunity for you and Eddie to finally get together-
The two people you never saw your life without were now but distant furniture in your mind. The past month brought you a lot of clarity. You actually hadn’t talked to either Eddie or Chrissy since the day after prom. Chrissy had come up to you the next day, pale face and dark circles around her eyes, but she still was glowing somehow. She laid her head next to your locker and greeted you with a lovestruck sigh.
“Wasn’t prom just an absolute dream?” You slammed your locker and rolled your eyes at her, which made her jump. “What’s up with you?” she pouted. “I want to tell you all about my magical night-”
“Yeah Chris. I know all about your magical night. Okay?” You snapped. She was taken aback. “Go talk about how magical your night was with someone else, got it?” You turned on your heel and walked away from the blonde. You were too angry to be sad. Too empowered to cower under her influence. You deserved better and you knew it. 
“Woah, woah! What is going on? Did I do something?” she jogged after you. You let out a dry laugh and turned to face her. 
“‘He only kissed you back because he felt bad for you” You mocked. Not breaking contact while the light drained from her eyes. Suddenly, her vision clouded with tears. In her drunken haze, she had forgotten the confrontation in the hallway. She knew she shouldn’t have said what she did. Deep down, she knew it was a lie, but she was too insecure to confront Eddie about his feelings for you. Driving you away was easier than her feeling like she was second best.
“Y/N I-”
“You know what Chrissy? I really thought that we were going to be friends forever. I really thought that you would have my back through thick and thin. But you showed me your true colors. You don’t care about me. If you did, you wouldn’t do what you did.”
“Did what I did? You kissed my boyfriend!” She yelped.
“Who you treat like shit, Chrissy! You kept him a secret so you could let Carver think that he had a chance of getting in your pants last night. You immediately took Eddie’s side when he told you what happened, and not trusting your best friend of over a decade.” She shook her head at you in disbelief
“A real friend would have been happy for me to find someone like Eddie -  who makes me happy, and pulls away when he tries to kiss you.” She poked 
“A real friend wouldn’t ever pursue a boy who I’m obviously in love with” It slipped out. You didn’t mean to tell her. You both stood staring at each other through wide, glassy eyes. You took a few breaths and your gaze hardened. 
“I should have said this to you the night you kicked me out of your house. I should have said this to you last night when you let me down. You are a shitty friend, Chrissy Cunningham, and you’re a shitty person. Don’t talk to me ever again.” Before she had any time to respond, you turned and strutted to your next class. Your heart hurt, but it felt so good to be confident enough in yourself, to be able to tell her how you really feel. She was done growing and flourishing, you had just started.
Eddie was too cowardly to come talk to you about what happened. He was so painfully in love with you, he couldn’t stand to see you get hurt again. So he admired you from afar, secretly cheering you on, as Chissy now interlocked her arm with his down the hallways. He was tired of making wrong decisions so he let the decisions be made for him. He couldn’t help feel a pang of desperation as graduation grew closer and closer, and the one person he wanted to be around drifted further and further out of his reach.
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You slipped on the scratchy green polyester gown, refusing to fasten your cap to your freshly curled hair until you got to the school. Your wedges felt foreign in comparison to your regular Reeboks and you were compulsively checking your compact mirror to ensure your lipstick was perfect. You were so excited to get the formal convocation over with to go party at Gareth’s house. You strolled into the gym to be greeted by a group of drama friends, you all shared niceties and took a few pictures with the polaroid you toted with you. You had formed a small circle of friends in the last month of classes. Although they weren’t Gareth’s cup of tea, he was happy to invite them to the afterparty if it meant that you had more incentive to be there with him. Since cutting off Eddie and Chrissy, you spend way more time in the theatre during lunches and with Gareth afterschool and before Hellfire. Old you would have hoped that Eddie saw and was jealous. New you didn’t give half a shit. 
You heard a familiar voice call your name and as you craned your neck to make eye contact, you broke from the crowd to run into Gareth’s embrace.
“Wow, Emerson! Thought I would never see you in a cap and gown!” You teased, but beamed up at him.
“Shut up… You look great” he smiled back at you. You quickly took your camera from around your neck and held it up to get both of your faces in frame.
“One for the books” you quipped. He rubbed your back affectionately as the microphone on the stage squealed. You found your seat and begrudgingly put your cap on. As you scanned the chairs for any more friends, your eyes fell to the door, where Eddie and Chrissy came walking in hand-in-hand. As angry as you were, you were happy to see Eddie finally succeeding in graduating. It brought warmth to your cheeks and a small smile to your lips. What you didn’t expect is for him to make eye contact with you. You froze. His gaze was soft, almost yearning. He raised a hand to you and offered a small grin. You waved back, too stunned to smile. He looked good. He looked happy. It filled you with melancholy for a moment before you broke eye contact and put your thoughts back together. You were here to succeed for you. You had friends that loved and appreciated you for you. You were going to go run amuck in a new city and find other people who loved you. And it all started here and now. You were going to grab that diploma, get blasted, and get the hell out of Hawkins. 
Your name was called and you walked across the stage. A louder-than-you-were-expecting applause erupted, along with whoops and hollers from Jeff and Gareth, and the hellfire freshmen that were in the audience. You bowed as your tassel was flipped and caught gorgeous brown eyes staring up at you again, clapping wildly and grinning. He was genuinely proud of you, you could tell. He was sorry, you could tell. When it was his turn to walk the stage, you were one of the few that clapped for him. But you stood up and gave him a loud cheer. You were proud of him, he could tell. As he hopped down from the stage, he ran up to Chrissy’s spot- where she held her diploma in her manicured hands  - and picked her up. He planted a kiss on her lips while he ran out of the gym. As much as you have grown, you wished it was you he was kissing, carrying out. You let the thought leave as their silhouettes vanished. It was time to party and forget about feelings. 
Gareth’s house was bustling. Music was blasting throughout the house and it was rattling in your ribcage. Your head was swimming with the ‘punch’ you had already consumed while playing flip cup and beer pong. You laughed with your friends, so truly glad to be able to forget about the impending doom of real life and have fun with your favorite people. You slinked your way through the crowd over to Gareth, who was tending the punch bowl. He smiled at you and handed you another solo cup. 
“Having fun?” he asked. You wrapped your arm around his waist and rested your head on his chest. He threw his arm around your shoulders, putting a little too much weight on you. He was drunk as well. You giggled
“This is the best party. Thanks for hosting, Garebear” you slur.
“Woah woah, Garebear? Absolutely not.” he scolds, pulling away from you. You let out a full chuckle as you clink your cup with his and down your drink.
Your night progressed to telling embarrassing stories in the living room over a game of Jenga. Your head was spinning and as much as you liked this feeling of weightlessness, you were afraid you were going to drift away. You pushed off of the couch and weaved your way through the crowds to the back door. You slid open the screen and you were gratefully met with a cool summer breeze. It was still warm, but the wind gave you goosebumps. You sighed with content and closed your eyes as you leaned onto the deck’s banister. 
“Having fun?”
Your eyes shot open and you looked over your right shoulder. In the shadows of the small outdoor light, you saw a tall, slender figure, and the outline of long, frizzy hair. Your smile faltered. He stepped into the light and took a drag from his cigarette
“Yeah, um… Sorry for disturbing you” you turned to walk back into the house
“Wait-” he grabbed your shoulders and turned you to him. Your breath caught in your throat and you felt like you were going to be sick. You were too close; Intoxicatingly close. You could smell the cigarettes on his breath.
“Where’s your girlfriend?” You blurted out. He pulled his hands away and took a step back like you had burnt him. He looked guilty but sorrowful.
“Uh, we decided to go to different parties tonight.” He mumbled. You chuckled and glared into his soft brown eyes. 
“So she didn’t want you to ruin the vibes of her ‘perfect party?”
“No, that’s not it! I just- I wanted to come here because… well because I miss you, and I miss hanging out in a group and I just wanted to come apologize, and, and I knew you wouldn’t hear me out if she was here too.” he panted. You could tell from his pleading eyes that he was serious. Your shoulders relaxed. 
“Eddie, you don’t need to apologize to me, for anything. You got everything you’ve wanted. You graduated, and I am so, so proud of you for that. You got your band and your sheep. And… you have Chrissy. She’s a hot commodity... and you’re lucky to have each other. So you have nothing to apologize for.”
“But I hurt you-”
“And I’m over it. Look, I have no ill will against you, Eddie, but I think we just need to run in different circles for a while.” You murmured, eyes glued to your converse. 
“I-is… is that what you really want?” Eddie took a step towards you. 
NO “Yeah. I have a really great group of friends that love me for me. They don’t need anything else from me but me.”
“You’re still hanging around with Gareth, right?” Eddie hardens. 
“Yeah. I am. He’s been the best friend I could ask for. He takes good care of me.”
“I’ll make sure he keeps taking care of you. I’ll kill him if he hurts you…”
“Save it, Eddie. I am so over your knight-in-shining-armor bullshit. You hurt me. You don’t get to decide who I hang out with or how I’m treated. You had a choice… You chose. So… deal with it.” The alcohol gave you more courage than you needed, but you weren’t mad. You were at peace. You turned and went back to the party. You didn’t realize, but that was just the way you needed to end your night. Closure and clarity. You returned to your spot beside Gareth to play another round of flip cup. Eddie selfishly couldn’t take his eyes off you. When he saw Gareth pick you up in a congratulatory hug, he gritted his teeth. He couldn’t stand picturing your story with Gareth and not him. So he slung back his last beer and stormed out the front door. 
July 1986
The Hideout was never your favorite place to be. It looked like nothing more than a shack from the side of the highway that cut through Hawkins. Half of the lights on the neon side were burnt out, you doubted they had been changed since the joint opened in the 50s. The small bar had a few booths as well as tall bar tables, which were moved to create a makeshift dance floor in front of a dingy stage. The drum kit and microphones barely fit onto it, but you were sure that the ragtag group that made up Corroded Coffin would make it work. They always did before. There were three pool tables in the back of the space, behind the dark linoleum island bar. They had definitely seen better days, most of them missing pieces of velvet or pockets missing nets to catch balls underneath them. They were usually used for bikers or regulars to sit girls on them and make out. The bar smelt stale, like rotting wood, old beer and sweat. There are many places that you would rather be, but when your best friend begs you to make their regular crowd of 10-11 people (including staff) a person or two bigger, you go. Gareth treaded the idea of you coming to the show lightly, as you had not talked to their frontman since the graduation party. You felt no ill will and really didn’t mind being around him. You got your closure, and you were there for Gareth. No need to think too much into it. 
You had seen Eddie around Hawkins in the last month. You had gotten a job at Family Video and would regularly work with Steve and Robin, who Eddie frequented. Your heart didn’t hurt when they talked about him anymore, and when he occasionally showed up to Family Video, or you saw him in Starcourt, or in the grocery store, you gave him the same curt but friendly smile every time. He understood the boundaries that you had given him. Friendly, but not friends. He always smiled back, but his heart sank. He missed you more than you could know.
You shuffled yourself into the closest booth to the stage and waited in soft anticipation. You hadn’t been to a Corroded Coffin show in months. It felt odd but familiar. You ordered yourself a rum and coke and absently sipped it as you listened to the Johnny Cash record that was playing on the jukebox.
You heard the door swing open behind you and a bubbly chuckle ring out through the bar. A sound that you definitely would not picture hearing in a place like this. You turned around to see Chrissy. Of course she would be here. Her strawberry blonde hair was curled in perfect ringlets and was held away from her face with a ribbon. Her long legs were framed perfectly under her light pink romper. Her waist beautifully cinched with a thick purple belt. Her lips were lusciously painted a glossy pink and her lashes were manicured to be wispy. She looked perfect, far too pretty to be here. Behind her followed Tiffany and Sarah. The trio picked a bar table that skirted the dance floor, across the bar from you. You, like most of the men in the building, followed their figures to their seats and Chrissy stole a glance at you. She looked at you and waved but you looked away, sinking a large gulp of your drink. 
Chrissy had reveled in the fact that her prom stunt had secured her some extra attention for the last week or so of school. Everyone seemed to be talking about her in the hallways and although not all of it was good, she thought it was better to have people talking bad about you than not at all. Suddenly, all of the jocks were at her locker, or fighting to sit with her at lunch, desperate to show her that they were better than the freak she had somehow landed herself with. The attention shot her ego and popularity to an alltime high and she became the queen bee of Hawkins - there was no more sharing or cliques, everyone was under Chrissy’s spell. Everyone thought of her as either generous for going to prom with Eddie, or a down-to-earth girl next door because she kept associating herself with him. It made your stomach roll but she continued to smile sweetly at everyone in the hallway. She often let her gaze linger on you too long. She had everything she thought she wanted those last weeks of highschool. Everything but her best friend. And little did she know, the newfound fame didn’t reach beyond the month of June and the hallways of Hawkins High.
As she sat at her table, her manicured nails wagged at men who were ogling her from the bar behind her. She flashed a devious grin to her friends and waltzed over to the bar. You watched closely. Last time you had heard, she was still with Eddie… There's no other reason why she would be here. You heard her boisterous laugh once more as she strutted back to her table, a cocktail in her hand. You never would have thought that Chrissy would be the type to take advantage of anyone, but then again, in the past few months, you watched the person you thought you knew the best change into a stranger in front of you. You rolled your eyes and focused your attention to the glass in your hand. 
You suddenly heard the humm of an amp and the vibrations of a bass being strummed. You looked up to see your friends taking the stage; All but Eddie. You cheered excitedly for Jeff, Gareth and Tommy but your heart pounded wildly in anticipation for the lanky metalhead that was missing. The few stage lights flickered as the energy and volume of the instruments rose and they began their set. Right before he started singing, Eddie sprang onto stage. There sure wasn’t a huge crowd, but everyone cheered as he appeared. You felt a lump in your throat as you watched the men perform, your eyes never leaving Eddie’s form. You felt your temperature rise what felt like 10 degrees. There was no doubt that he had charisma on stage, that is where he was born to be; But you felt all too emotional looking up at the man that you used to call your best friend. The man you thought that you might be in love with, the man that you thought you found closure with. You let yourself feel the waves of emotion flow through you with the music as you rocked back and forth with the rhythm. When applause erupted, you let your mind quiet with the music. The lights came back on and you grabbed your bag and your glass and got ready to return it to the bar. As you got up to leave, you noticed a gaggle of green letterman jackets had pushed their tables next to the one Chrissy and the girls were sitting at. Your anxiety spiked. You hadn’t talked to any of the jocks since prom and were fine with being the pariah of the group, but the fact that none of your friends were with you now made you feel nervous. You peered at the group from the other side of the bar and watched as Jason leaned in to whisper something into Chrissy’s ear. She slapped his arm playfully and giggled. You felt sick. You couldn’t wait for the boys to get their gear so you could say your goodbyes.
“Well, how’d ya like it?” The familiar voice instantly broke the tension in your body. You turned and gave Gareth a peck on the cheek.
“It was awesome, rockstar! You all were great” you say to Jeff and Tommy who were now sitting at the bar. They smiled and raised their fresh beers to you.
“So, you wanna get out of here? After party at my place. Got beer and the shit you like.” he wiggled his eyebrows at you. As much as you wanted to celebrate their show, you needed quiet. You needed to just go home and shower off the gross conflicting feelings you had.
“As tempting as that sounds, I think I just need to go home tonight, Gar.” he studied your face. The sheer amount of time that you had spent with him meant he could read you like a book. He scanned the dingy room and found the source of your anxiety. His gaze hardened at the green jackets infiltrating their space. 
“They better not have said or done anything to you, I’ll kill them-”
“No no no they didn’t, just weird to see them all here” you reassured. Both of your gazes softened as you found the dark battle jacket amongst the lettermen. Eddie was scoffing loudly and flailing his hands. After a fantastic show, you expected to see him beaming, but his face was set in a hard scowl.
Eddie was slowly losing his patience. He had practically begged Chrissy to come to his gig tonight. He knew that there would be potential for the Hideout to start paying them for regular gigs if they brought in a crowd, but this was the opposite of what he wanted. When he was on stage he met with two pairs of eyes, your beautiful bright eyes and her glazed over blue ones. He was disappointed to see one of them. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you the whole set. He had forgotten how much he missed having you in the crowd. He could feel your energy from 20 feet away. It made him want to perform better. When he looked over to Chrissy’s table, he lost his spark. She looked disinterested. She was busy gabbing to her friends the whole time. Then, when he saw the meatheads walk in, he wanted to jump right off the stage and end the gig right then. But he pushed because at least they would be helping their audience numbers. Once Eddie took a moment to mentally prepare himself in the green room after the show, he plastered on a fake smile and sauntered over to Chrissy. He went to give her a chaste peck, but she turned her face for him to kiss her cheek. 
“My lipgloss, Ed!” She giggled. Eddie rolled his eyes, shot her a sickly sweet smile and planted his lips on her cheek. The girls sitting next to Chrissy oohed and ahhed and the jocks kept to their own conversation, but their presence seemed like it was to mock him. He instantly got caught in his own head, wondering if their intent really was malicious, or if he was just reliving past high school trauma. He was pulled out of his trance when Chrissy’s manicured hand pulled on the lapels of his vest. 
“Hey, rockstar! I’m talking to you!” She teased. He shook his head to clear his thoughts.
“Sorry, babe. What were you saying?”
“There’s a party out at Lover’s Lake, Jason’s parent’s cabin. Do you want to drop off your band stuff first then we can head out? We can grab some blankets and just sleep in the back of the van because I don’t know about you, but I want to be fully alone when we-” she blabbed, Eddie cut her off by taking her wrists in his hands. 
“Woah, woah! I told you, the band is having their after party at Gareth’s house. You promised me we would be there. Come on, Chris.” Eddie pouted. She had been ditching him more often to go out with other people. He tried not to let his insecurities get the best of him, but it felt like he was losing her interest. This was something he wasn’t going to budge on. This was his night. She was supposed to be there for him. He couldn’t help but think that if it was you in Chrissy’s place, there wouldn’t even be a debate. He wouldn’t have even had to ask you to show up in the first place.
“Oh, come on. Don’t you want to go out to the cabin?” She searched for any kind of agreement she could get from any of the jocks. They either politely smiled at her or avoided her eye contact. The invitation was for Chrissy not Chrissy and Eddie. “It’s going to be, like a million times better than sitting in Derek’s-”
“Gareth’s” Eddie seethed. 
“Gareth’s - whatever - Gareth’s dusty garage. It’ll be romantic. We can have the whole ride up there just you and me…” She cooed, she moved her lips to the lobe of Eddie’s ear “and I can tell you how wet you made me watching you up on that stage” she whispered. Eddie knew that he should be turned on. But he was so angry with her that he couldn’t oblige her. Not this time. 
“I’m not budging, Chris. We need to go to the afterparty. I need to be there with my boys, too. We have cause to celebrate and this is really important to me.”
“But, Eddie…”
Eddie was tired of the games, he was fed up with her tonight. 
“Either we go to Gareth’s together, or we won’t be seen at any parties anymore.” Eddie challenged. He hated that he had to give her an ultimatum but if that’s what it took., then so be it. He didn’t want to be the tag along. Not tonight. Chrissy’s stare hardened at her. He had never challenged her like that before. 
“Alright, Munson. You win. We’ll go to your little party.” Eddie rolled his eyes and told Chrissy he was going to check in with the rest of the band to see what the plan was. She nodded and Eddie turned away, giving the rest of the table a tight smile. He moped his way over to where you and Gareth watched silently. He seemed to light up a bit when he saw your inviting smile.
“Hey, congrats rockstar. You did an amazing job up there” You wrapped a hand around Eddie’s bicep. Eddie felt a shiver run down his spine at the contact.
“You think so? Thanks.” Eddie blushed. He was always one to be so sure of himself, this lack of confidence threw you off. 
“Hell yeah I think so! It was the best show I have seen you guys do yet!” You exclaimed. 
“Are you gonna come to the afterparty?” Eddie asked, hope splayed in a smile across his face. 
“No, I gotta sit this one out. I have to open Family Video tomorrow.”
Eddie looked dejected. He was so happy to see you in the crowd, he had hoped he would be able to talk to you at the party and really apologize.
“Trust me dude, we’re all bummed. I’ve been trying to change her mind for the past 15 minutes. I even offered to call Robin to ask her to cover myself!” Gareth offers. You give the men a sorry smile. 
“You’re gonna have a great time without me! It’s your night. Don’t let me ruin it.” God, you were so selfless. He couldn’t help but admire you in the dim light. So kind and so beautiful. It wasn’t fair how things ended between you. He was an ass. You turned away from him to walk to the door after sending kind waves to the band.
“Y/N” Eddie grabbed your wrist and pleaded with his chocolate eyes. You got lost in them almost immediately. You knew what you felt when he was on stage and you’re pretty sure he knew and felt it too. “Wait, please come to the-”
“Eddie! Are we going or what?” you hear a shrill voice from behind the man staring down at you. Chrissy looked pissed (in more ways than one). Her hands rested on her hips and she tapped her foot on the ground as she swayed. Eddie groaned and let go of you. The heat in your chest quickly faded. You peered around Eddie to smile tightly at the blonde. Her eyes widened and softened at your gesture. She slowly raised her hand to wave to you. You looked back to Eddie.
“You-you better go” you smile sadly at him. “You’re girl’s waiting for you. Have fun tonight, Eddie. Again, you deserve it.”
For the second time, Eddie watched you walk away and he fell into the impatient arms of a girl that he thought  he loved. Eddie’s eyes were glued to your figure as you slipped out of the bar into your car.
As you got in, you let out a big sigh and punched your steering wheel. You knew you made the right choice by leaving and not entertaining anything with the man that trapped your heart all over again, but it would have been so easy to fall back into his arms and pretend like Chrissy didn’t exist. But you didn’t want to stoop to their levels. You didn’t want to get trapped in what was easy versus what was best for you. So you turned the key in the ignition and you quietly drove back to your apartment, retiring to a warm bath and a book, before crawling into bed and letting loneliness and the thought of Eddie on stage singing to you lull you to sleep. 
September 1986
Your first summer of freedom did not follow the plan you thought you had perfected before graduating. Some of those things on your list looked similar, but with different people. You often went joyriding with Steve and Robin after closing Family Video and spent long nights out at Lover’s Lake with old drama club friends. It felt liberating that you didn’t feel a hope about a certain mop headed boy, even though you had been frequenting band practices and summer Hellfire meetings to casually see him as much as possible. You found some independence and even though you often felt lonely without Eddie and Chrissy, you knew you were doing fine without them.
You had just gotten home from a shift at Family Video. The last bit of humid summer air kissed your skin. You shrugged off your vest and other clothes and tossed them into your hamper before starting a steaming shower to wash away the day. You had been looking forward to treating yourself to a face mask, a steam and ending the night by curling up into bed with the newest Stephen King novel. You flopped down on your bed, dawning your favorite oversized tee shirt from your dad’s auto body shop and a pair of sleeper shorts. Your hair was tied loosely in a towel and your face felt clean and soft. You sighed with content as the night was finally yours. You don’t remember how long it took, but you dozed. You awoke to the record you had started playing being long hushed; your glassy eyes opened in accompaniment to the shrill ring of your phone. You grabbed at it and groggily answered. You were greeted by preppy sobs ringing through your ear. 
“H-hello?”
“Y-Y/N” Chrissy wailed. You could smell the alcohol wrecking her through the phone. “I-I need you to tell me I’m not a bad person.”
You paused and almost laughed to yourself. “Chrissy, why are you calling me?”
“I, I just need someone to tell me that I am not a bad person, okay? No one likes me anymore.” You could hear hiccups between her sobs and shuffling from whatever party she was at.
“It’s late, Chrissy. You should go home and go to sleep-” You move to hang up the phone but her cry stops you. 
“I did a really bad thing, Y/N and I need someone to tell me that I’m worth keeping around because no one likes me anymore. No one wants to talk to me and no one looks at me and I want boys to look at me and like me and-”
“Chrissy you have the boy that you love right now. What are you talking about? You have everything you could ever want…” You scoffed. 
“Y/N, I, I don’t think I love Eddie. I don’t think I ever did.” Chrissy whispers. The phone stays quiet save for the party behind her. Her sniffles break the silence every few moments.
“What did you do, Chris?” Your head was spinning. How could she not love Eddie? One of the easiest people on the planet to love. He was the boy who knew how to make anyone feel special and wanted just by looking at them. He would drop anything and run to Chrissy if she ever needed anything and you knew that for a fact. You knew that he was eager to take others’ pain away and make it his to help. He was perfect, a treasure that deserved to be protected at all costs, not be treated like this. Eddie was probably alone in his trailer right now, worried about his girlfriend, or waiting to give her a ride home, while she’s calling  you to tell you that she doesn’t love him? How dare she? You wanted to believe that the girl that you used to know was still in there somewhere. That Chrissy would never do anything to hurt someone that she cared about - even if she didn’t love him…
“Well.. there’s this party going on and, and all the old jocks are here you know? A-Aand Jason and I, well like we were always ‘will they won’t they’ you know? And i saw him at this party and Eddie was being a total jerk and didn’t want to come with me and he just doesn’t look at me like these guys do and-”
“What:” you scoff. “Like a piece of meat?”
“Y/N please. Like I am wanted, like I am attractive. Like I am a prize, okay? Eddie looks at me, but it doesn’t feel as good as when Jason or Andy or Patrick looks at me - like in high school-”
“Chrissy, that’s really fucked up and pathetic. Why are you calling me?”
“Because you’re my best friend - well, you were… and I-I-I miss you, I shouldn’t have stopped being your friend, and I’m sorry I let stupid Eddie come in between us.”
“Stop. Chrissy, Eddie didn’t come between you and me, You came between Eddie and I, and the shit you pulled was fucked up. So tell me what you want so I can get off the goddamn phone and I can rinse the disgusting feeling I have off for talking to you about this-”
“I cheated on Eddie”!” She blurted out. “I’ve been cheating on Eddie for months now. And I’m a bad person but it feels so good to be wanted, Y/N I can’t explain it.”
“I-I don’t know what you want me to say, Chrissy. That’s fucked up, even for you. You have been the lowest of fucking low, but I never thought you would be the type of person to totally fuck up your relationship like that. I don’t know why you wanted to call and tell me this, but I don’t feel sorry for you. Not in the slightest. Goodnight.” You slammed your receiver down on your phone and felt tears prick at your eyes. Not your Eddie. Eddie doesn’t deserve this. You sat in contemplative silence - unwilling to believe the conversation you had just happened.Your phone rang again and you jolted in panic. 
“Hello” you whispered. 
“Hey, Y/N… Sorry I didn’t mean to wake you up” You heard his gruff voice and your breath hitched. 
“E-Eddie, why are you calling me?”
“Sorry, sorry I just - I’m kind of freaking out because I haven’t heard from Chrissy in like three days and I just got a call from her I think and she was sobbing your name before the line went dead… I - I was just wondering if she had called you or if something happened I guess. This is stupid I shouldn’t have called you” He sounded exhausted and like he had been crying. 
“Eddie, are you okay?”
“What?”
“Are you okay?”
“I… I don’t know. I’m just tired of these disappearing girlfriend tricks I keep getting fucking trapped in.” He lets out a dry chuckle. 
“I don’t know where she is but I think I know where to find her… I’ll let you know if I hear anything. Okay?” You hear his long sigh over the phone and you wish that you could forget the boundaries that had built up between you and run to him. Tell him that you were there for him and kiss away his pain. Your heart was breaking for him (even though you couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction… you had warned him.).
“Hey, Sweetheart?”
“What’s up, Eddie?”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry about everything-” you heard his voice crack.
“Eddie, it’s okay-”
“No. It’s not.” he cut you off. “I’m so sorry for the shitty person I had been. I fucked up one of the good things I had in my life because I got selfish, and in my own head. I never wanted to hurt you.. I - I just… I don’t know why I chose her. I wanted it to be you so badly, but I forced it.. And I just hope that I can convince you to be my friend again someday.”
“We’ll see what we can do, Ed.” with that you clicked your phone back to the receiver and threw on a flannel. Although you hadn’t been in quite some time, the only place that the meatheads frequented was the Carver residence on the other side of town. You never felt your place there, but you knew how to navigate it. You hastily started your car and set off for your destination.
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Jason’s street was littered with abandoned station wagons and empty solo cups. You could hear the music blasting from the beginning of the cul de sac - your head already began to pound. You snaked your way to the end of the manicured driveway and slammed your car door shut. You trudged to the open front door, keeping your head down. As you passed through waves of people, you could feel stares into the back of your head and giggles of your name. You scowled and trained your eyes to search for a pair of tanned legs and a blonde ponytail. You paused in the kitchen, desperate to find Chrissy and your chance to leave when you felt a hand wrap around your waist and warm breath sneak up to your ear.
“I didn’t remember inviting you to my party… outcast” a baritone voice huffs.
“You didn’t, Carver… I’m picking something up and then I will be out of your hair. Don’t let me ruin your night.” You pull away from him but his grip on your waist becomes bruising. 
“Aww, come on, outcast. Why don’t we party like we used to. You’ve been hanging out with the freaks for too long… Forgot how to have fun. Why don’t you let me show you what you’ve been missing, huh?” Jason spun you around so his piercing blue eyes were boring into yours. 
“I would literally rather poke my eyes out with hot knives. Where’s Chrissy”
“Oh, god you really are a desperate frigid bitch, aren’t you? You know I didn’t want to believe Chrissy when she told me but, I guess she was right” The blonde sneered. 
“Yeah, yeah, Jason. I get it. Go take your steroids and show the rest of your friends how manly you are… I’m not interested. Now do you know where I can find her, or did you lose the brain cells for facial recognition too?” Jason stared at you slack jawed, then his grin slid across his face. It made you sick.
“Well, when I left her an hour ago, she was - ahem - cleaning herself up in my room. Feel free to go look there if you’d like… But be warned, you might not like what you see up there.” He giggled. He brought his face into your cheek and your blood froze. He puckered his lips and planted them to the side of your face. 
“It was… so good to see you again, Y/N. Glad to see you really did peak in high school… ugh and that says something, doesn’t it?” He breezed past you to leave you to physically recoil and regather. You wanted to turn around and leave… fuck Chrissy and fuck all of these people… but you had to do this for Eddie. You turned to the staircase facing the kitchen and pace up. Although it had been a long time since you had been in the Carver house, you still felt like you could clear the top floor in a good time. You past couples pressed against hallways and huddled into rooms. You hear giggles and beds creaking and girls crying, but no Chrissy. 
You were ready to give up hope, having tried all of the door handles and being met with locked doors or your apologies for intruding. The last door at the end of the hallway opened as you went to reach for the door and you were met with the girl you had been searching for for the last ten minutes. Her eyes widened in horror and relief to see you. She looked like a mess. Her usually neat slicked ponytail was slated on the side of her head, flyaways crowning her. Her eyes were glazed over eyes were smudged black with mascara and eyeliner. Her flush in her cheeks made her intoxication very apparent and her lips were kiss-swollen and smudged. She sported one of Jason’s old Hawkins raglans in replacement of whatever tiny top she had worn to the party. You felt bad for her at first sight; pity running through your veins as her lips quivered. Her paused tears resumed as she wrapped you in a hug. 
“Thank you so much for coming, Y/N. Thank you so much.” she sobbed. 
“Yeah, Chris. This is fucked. Let’s go, okay?”
You guided the girl down the stairs and out of the house - refusing to look anywhere but the floor in case Jason returned to try and claim you as a prize again. Chrissy had blabbered nonsense all the way to the car while you tried to prevent her from going horizontal. You closed her door and paced back to your side of the car. You were greeted with silence and the smell of vodka.
“Who else, Chrissy?” you whispered. 
“Wh-wha-”
“Who else did you fuck, Chrissy?!” you yelled, your eyes never left her figure, her eyes did not leave her feet. 
“It was just Jason… tonight.”
“For fucks sake! Are you kidding me?”
“Can we just go? I know I’m a piece of shit okay? But some of us need the attention! Okay! I’m not alright with walking around feeling like I am fading away into no one and that no one cares who I am anymore! I want someone to look at me like other girls get looked at! I want to be like you where you can find other friends and you can go out and be effortlessly yourself and everyone loves you!” “What the FUCK are you talking about? You have a boyfriend, Chrissy. He should be the one that makes you feel like that. HE looks at you like that! He is the one that you should be loving because he loves you!” Chrissy let out a dry laugh.
“Oh come on now, Y/N you and I both know he doesn’t love me. He doesn’t look at me like that because he is too busy looking at you like that! You had me and you had him and it wasn’t good enough! So we both needed to settle for second best! And I am just not okay with being second best anymore!”
“You are the one that gave me up for all your popular friends, you and Eddie both chose each other over me! And look who is here picking up the pieces after you handed yourself out to the basketball team, and while your own fucking boyfriend traverses the streets of Hawkins because he has no idea where you are! I was fucking right. You both deserve each other.” You shoved your car into drive and rolled your car into the road. Chrissy silently sobbed while you focused your eyes on the night ahead of you. 
Your ride was long and awkward. When you pulled up to your house, Chrissy seemed surprised. 
“I can’t let you go back to your house like this, Chris. We need to get you cleaned up.” She nodded a silent thank you and the two of you retreated to the second floor of your house. You got Chrissy a change of clothes and a toothbrush while she was in the shower and put her alcohol drenched outdfit in the wash. You waited for her in your room. When she sheepishly entered, you gestured to the bed you had made for her on the floor. She settled into her blankets and an awkward silence covered you once again.
“Thank you, Y/N. I don’t know why you’re being so nice to me… I don’t deserve it.”
“I know, Chrissy. But you need someone to help you make a couple good decisions tonight. That was a fucking mess, at Jason’s” You heard her breath catch in her throat. “You have to tell Eddie what’s been going on, Chrissy. And he’s going to hate you. But you can’t do that to him. You might not love him but you and I both know that he deserves better than this.”
“I know,” she conceded quietly. You laid your head on your pillow. Your alarm clock read 3:39am. You tossed and turned in your sleep all night, pictures of Eddie’s heartbroken face haunting your dreams. 
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You awoke to Chrissy folding blankets and stacking pillows onto your dresser.
“Hey, morning. How are you feeling?” you croaked. 
“Well, I’m here and that’s a way better place than I thought I was going to be staying” Chrissy chuckled dryly. “Thank you again for last night, Y/N. I really owe you one.”
“Don’t mention it. I just hope that if the roles were reversed you would do the same for me.” The air between you seemed palpable, it reminded you of when Chrissy would be doing the very same thing after a weekend long sleepover. You both gave each other testing smiles and short giggles.
You dropped Chrissy off after stopping to get coffee for the two of you. Chrissy looked at you apologetically and unclasped her seatbelt. 
“Thanks for the ride” she offered
“Welcome. Good luck with Eddie” you mumbled. As badly as you felt for your old friend, you could not wait for her downfall. She didn’t deserve Eddie and he didn’t deserve to be hurt like this. But the light of old times seeping through the walls that you had rebuilt felt nice, even if it was artificial, fleeting. You flashed the girl a comforting smile.
“Thanks. I think I’m really going to need it. I really fucked up.” she looked down and began to pick at her nails.
“But this might be a learning lesson for you at least. I hate to say it but Karma can be a bitch sometimes.” you grab her wrist and squeeze. Your hands warm her veins and she relaxes into your touch. She pats you on the hand as she wriggles out of your car and trots to her door. She looks back at you before she closes the door behind you. She really stares into you as she raises a hand and waves. It was goodbye for good.
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You got cut early from your shift at the video store.You were little to no help to the gorgeous head of hair working with you anyways. You tell Steve about your night, about Chrissy’s admissions and your call with Eddie. You were unsure of what your expectations were at this point. You call with Eddie shifted the dynamic of friendly strangers and you again found yourself battling between easy choices and choices that were good for you. Luckily for you, you were wasting time with Hawkin’s most eligible bachelor and love-life-advice solicitor.
“I don’t know, Y/N all I’m saying is there are so many guys in this town that would actually take you out and treat you right, you don’t deserve this shit” the boy quipped. You loved how honest Steve could be. He had quickly given you more examples of what a good friend looked like. “Like what about that Gareth kid?! Have you seen the way he looks at you? Worships the ground you walk on. Get a guy like that” Steve folds his hands on his hips. You scoff at him. 
“Gareth and I are just friends. Trust me, we’ve gotten into all of that relationship stuff a long time before.” Steve’s eyes grew to saucers. You giggled. “It was one kiss this summer and both of us knew it wasn’t gonna happen, okay?” You rolled your eyes as you slid a box of freshly rewound tapes to him.
“Alright, alright - poor guy. I’m just saying. Munson? He should be old news. He and Chrissy deserve each other…” 
“Maybe I should test drive a guy like you then, Harrington?” you sneered. He dropped the box, his back turned to you but you could tell his cheeks had flushed. “Or…Hargrove?”
“Hey!”
“Or-”
“Alright enough!” Steve chided. You suppressed your giggle. “You think you’re so funny, huh? I just worry about you, that’s all.”
“I know, Steve. Trust me, I wish I could move on. The two of them do deserve each other… But every time I think of them making up and going back to being good,  it makes me want to rip my hair outI can’t stand it.”
“Damn kid. You really are down bad” Steve jabbed you in the side of the arm and you shrieked. “If you really feel that way then I guess you gotta let him know.”
“What if they do get back together and I laid it all out for nothing? Or what if I’m old news to him, Steve? I cant handle that…”
“Dude, if he makes the same mistake as he did at prom he won’t just have Gareth to deal with, okay? He’ll have me, Buckley and half of the Family Video clientele coming after him.” Steve glanced at the clock and gestured to the door. “Now get out of there and fix your bullshit life” he winks. Your smile lightens your whole face. You grab your bag from behind the counter and scurry out the door after planting a kiss to Steve’s cheek. He was left to the fluorescent aisles, shaking his head. You really did deserve better.
You pulled into your driveway, ready to spend the afternoon in Gareth’s backyard smoking weed and watching as many horror movies that you could before inevitably passing out. As you sauntered up to your door, you realized your plans for the day had been eviscerated. Sitting on your front step was a cardboard box that had been taped together neatly. Sitting on top of the box laid a note scrawled with purple ink:
“Y/N, I didn’t know who else to trust with this, and I am so sorry to ask.
Please take this box and give it to Eddie if you see him. I can’t bear to give it to him myself and I can’t tell anyone else about what I did. 
Thank you for being such a good friend even when I didn’t deserve one.
Chrissy”
You let out a large sigh as you picked up the box and opened your door. You didn’t want to call Eddie, you were scared to find out how much he knew. Part of you wanted to leave the box on the doorstep for him to quietly pick up without notice, but you knew that your heart couldn’t handle knowing he was so close and you did nothing. So you picked up the receiver to your landline and dialed a familiar set of numbers.
“Hey champ! When you coming over?” A peppy boy answered. 
“Hey, Gar. Something came up and I don’t think I can come over.”
“What did he do, Y/N?” Gareth’s tone hardened immediately. You could feel his anger radiating through the telephone.
“Nothing, it's more like what Chrissy did…” You spent the next half an hour telling Gareth about your encounters yesterday. Gareth huffed bitterly in response. Eddie Jeff and Gareth hadn’t been the same since their gig at the Hideout. Eddie began dodging band practice to be with Chrissy. He sacrificed DND campaigns and hellfire meetings to hide under the bleachers to go to the mall with Chrissy, or go to dinner with the jocks. Eddie became the most popular recluse. The three musketeers became strangers and the practices they had now - if any - were full of tension and unfamiliarity. Jeff and Gareth resented Eddie for the way his world revolved around Chrissy, and Eddie resented the two for not being happy for him, for not supporting him in what he wanted. In the middle was you. Eddie longed to be close to you again, but Jeff and Gareth refused to let him too close, you wouldn’t be hurt again, at least not on their watches. Although hostility ran high, all of you craved so much to be a group again, to be able to forgive and forget. But as all of you had figured out, that was much easier said than done.
“I’m coming over. I don’t want you to be alone when he shows up.”
“Gareth, I will be fine. I need to talk to him anyway” Your voice got quiet
“Talk to him about what?”
“I-I just need to know what happened between him and Chrissy. I need to know what that means for me, Gareth. I’m sick and tired of wondering if it could happen.”
“Y/N that’s a bad idea. We should just be done with him”
“I know, Gareth. He doesn’t deserve us. But I’m tired of being strong and stubborn.  I just need to talk to him. I need to see him.” There was a silence over the phone. Gareth’ heart broke for you, but he knew that he couldn’t protect you from this.
“If anything happens, you give me a call and I will be over in 5 minutes.”
“Yes, sir.” You chuckle.
“Hey, now! I mean it”
“Gareth?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I love you, you know?” there was a loud sigh over the phone.
“Yeah I know. I love you too.”
“Everything’s going to be okay.”
“It has to be.” With a click, you were left to listen to the dial tone. You place your phone down and get yourself ready. You didn’t know when Eddie would be over, but you wanted to prepare before he did. 
You sat in the shower until the water ran cold. Your skin felt scrubbed free from any imperfection, but it felt tight with stress. You forced yourself to make food but could barely eat. The rest of your evening consisted of staring at the same open page in your book while reruns of Match Game bled through the living room. The sun had set, along with the hopes that you would get closure tonight. Later, you heard the rattle of an engine outside accompanied by the thrash of Ozzy Ozbourne. You shot off the couch and toed your way to the front door. On the other side, you could hear a cacophony of swears and pacing footsteps. A few moments later, three hesitant knocks on your door. You took a couple of breaths and turned the handle. You were greeted with a tousled mop of hair and fair skin. His jeans hung low on his hips and he wore a thinning band t-shirt. His pale arms gripped his shoulders, flashing patches of inky figures across his forearms. His face, usually soft and blushing, looked pale. Dark circles encapsulated his coffee coloured irises. His nose was red and his lip was quivering. As awful as he looked, he was so tragically beautiful, like a muse. His lips still puckered and dared you to dart out and kiss them. His frame towered over yours and threatened to encapsulate you whole. You wanted nothing more. You gripped the inside of your doorframe in grounding, afraid you were going to evaporate into the cooling evening.
“Eddie, Hi” You squeaked. The boy looked dully at you as you took in his appearance. “I-I saw Chrissy’s note… the box is just inside I’ll-” You turned to leave but Eddie’s sigh held you in place.
“Fuck the box, Y/N” Eddies voice was just above a whisper. It rattled as if he were scared that if he spoke too loudly, the whole world would collapse in on him. His eyes lined with tears again. “What happened last night?” He demanded.
“I found her at a party… she had called me and, well I couldn’t just leave her there so…I took her home with me and she told me she was a bad person…” your eyes were trained to the floor. “I took her home in the morning and then the box was waiting for me after work, so you might have to fill in the rest of the blanks for me.”
“She fucked me over. That’s what happened! She went out and she fucked half the basketball team while I fucking waited for her to come back into my fucking arms! I tried to give her everything but nothing was ever good enough!” Eddie seethed. “ ‘I need more attention, Eddie’ or, ‘come out to this party, Eddie’ ‘ I want to do this instead, Eddie.’ ‘Why aren't you more like Jason, Eddie?’ FUCK I should have fucking known better, but I’m the fucking freak, I don’t get what I want. I don’t deserve to be happy because this is partially my fault too…” Eddie fisted at his hair while he paced on your front step. 
“Eddie. I don’t know what to say-”
“You don’t need to say anything but I told you so. That’s what I fucking deserve. You shouldn’t be sitting here pitying me. You should be laughing at me” Eddie whimpered. You had never seen him so small, so fragile. You wanted to rub the tension out of his shoulders and kiss his furrowed brows until he looked like your Eddie again. 
“Yeah but I’m not because I care about you Eddie.” You reach out to touch him but he pulls away like you burned him. “I’m really fucking sorry that this happened. No matter what I think of you, you don’t deserve this.” Eddie stopped in his tracks and trained his eyes on your meek figure. You shuddered when you looked up and made eye contact with him. Your eyes were wet and his eyes were pools of sorrow, But his gaze held a foreign glimmer to them. You let Eddie study you in silence. 
“What can I do to make it better?” 
“I… I don’t know, Eddie. That might be a conversation to have with Chrissy and you-”
“I’m not talking about me and Chrissy.” Eddie held his gaze on you as he stepped closer to you. He smelt of weed, beer and cheap aftershave. 
“Eddie-”
Swiftly, the boy grabbed your cheeks and collapsed into you, smashing his lips with yours. As much as your brain screamed at you to push him off, your bones melted in with his, finally giving into the temptation that your body so desperately craved since your kiss in the theatre. Eddie’s weight moved you backwards into your house and he closed the door behind him. His hands migrated down your torso to your waist as he spun you to pin you back up against your front door. You moaned into his mouth as he ran his tongue along your bottom lip. Your hands found their way to Eddie’s chest and you gripped his shirt. He was shaking. It felt like there were only two of you. Kissing Eddie was the most natural thing to happen. Every move he made, your body had the perfect response. He gripped your hips as you slid your hands around his neck into his hair, earning a moan from the metalhead. A pit in your stomach formed at his lips vibrating against yours and you thought your legs would give out. Eddie pressed his body deeper into yours and you swore you could feel his heartbeat in your own chest. As much as you wanted this moment to last forever, you pulled yourself away from him, his eyes still closed and lips slightly parted, also very much in shock as to what had just happened. You gaze up at him as tears unwillingly spill down your cheeks. A mortified expression painted Eddie’s face, immediately thinking that he had overstepped again. He waited for a slap to the face or for you to push him away and begin yelling. But you looked up at him through your glassy eyes and his heart backflipped. His hands returned to your cheeks, thumbs desperately swiping at your tears. 
“Y/N, sweetheart, I’m so sorry… I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Eddie, we can’t lie to each other. You and I both know I’ve been waiting for you to do that for a long time” a sad smile crept across your face.
“Fuck. I’ve been doing this wrong the whole time. I’ve wanted you this whole time, Y/N. This whole time, not a day has gone by where I wish I could go back to prom night and make the right choice. I am so fucking sorry.”
“I accept your apology, Eddie. But I don’t forgive you” Eddie’s heart sank. The flush he had earned left his face. His hands dropped to your wrists and he gripped tightly, like he was afraid you were going to disappear in front of him. “Not now at least. You fucked me up, Eddie. I waited for you and I watched you break my heart, and I will not be anyone’s second best ever again. I won’t be your second place again.” Eddie shook his head in understanding.
“What can I do? Please tell me what I can do.”
“You can work on how to make good choices again, Ed. Be my friend first. Prove to me you deserve that. Because I am not okay with being a rebound either. Prove to me you want me and this isn’t just a way to get over Chrissy, because my heart can’t take it.” you sob into him and he wraps you into a hug.
“I promise you, sweetheart. It’s you. It’s always been you, and I will spend the rest of my days proving how much I need you.”
“Okay, Eddie. I believe you.” You pull away from him and step away from him. “But we can’t do that again.” You both were too afraid to say anything more, so you stood in silence, taking in each others’ space. Eddie then reached for the door.
“I, I should really go, I guess. I’m not sorry for kissing you, but I’m really sorry if it upset you.” You grab the hand that Eddie had on your front door. 
“Eddie, I know you aren’t exactly sober right now, or in the right state of mind to really be alone. So as your friend, I would really like it if you stayed here tonight, so I know that you’re okay.”
“As a friend?” 
You nodded firmly.
“I would really like that,” Eddie smiled softly at you.
“Let’s go put a movie on and try and get some sleep.” You grabbed Eddie’s hand and led him up to your bedroom. Eddie climbed onto your bed as you leaned over your TV and punched in The Shining. You joined Eddie on the bed, both of you under the farthest edges of the blanket, too scared to cross a thin boundary that had been set. 
“Y/N?”
“Yeah, Ed?”
“I was wondering If I- If It would be okay, could I maybe hold you?” Eddie murmured into his lap that he was staring at. “I just feel really cold. I don’t mean anything by it I promise. I just need… to feel something good.”
Wordlessly, you shuffled over to the middle of the bed. Eddie followed suit. You slid down so your head leaned on his chest, his arm draped down your back, his fingers drew circles  on your hip. Your arm wrapped around him as a silent reassurance that you were not going anywhere. The steady pounding of Eddie’s heart and the rise and fall of his chest quickly lulled you to sleep. Eddie spent next to no time watching Jack Nicholson and Shelley Duvall, too busy studying every detail of your body that he could see. As he heard your soft sighs signaling you had fallen asleep, he silently cried into your temple. 
Eddie Munson knew he was an idiot, that he fucked up. As much as his heart broke, he couldn’t help but be willing to break it over and over again if it meant that he got to call you his one day.
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txttletale · 9 months
Note
You've spoken at length about how the Lancer setting is just wildly incongruent with what the authors think it is at length, and I agree wholeheartedly. My question is, largely for the purpose of if I ever want to run a game of it again, how would you make the setting carry that tone the authors think it has without too terribly much rewriting? Say, from the point of 'there was a revolution to overthrow seccom'? I love the 'gallant warriors of liberation in giant robots' and would like it if the game actually was that.
But the more the bureaucratic apparatus is “redistributed” among the various bourgeois and petty-bourgeois parties , the more keenly aware the oppressed classes, and the proletariat at their head, become of their irreconcilable hostility to the whole of bourgeois society. Hence the need for all bourgeois parties, even for the most democratic and "revolutionary-democratic" among them, to intensify repressive measures against the revolutionary proletariat, to strengthen the apparatus of coercion, i.e., the state machine. This course of events compels the revolution "to concentrate all its forces of destruction" against the state power, and to set itself the aim, not of improving the state machine, but of smashing and destroying it.
-- Vladimir Lenin, The State & Revolution
In the heady days after the revolution, the air buzzed with potential. The future was today. Hazy, gaseous dreams of liberation patiently awaited their turn to be forged into something you could touch. But those days didn't last for long. The coalition was already a fragile thing during the revolution, and now that it was faced with the levers of Union's imperial machine each hairline crack became a chasm. The corporate armies, who had marched under the banner of the enormous profits locked away behind Harrison Armory's legal monopolies, had reached their personal horizons and refused to move an inch further. The moderates and high-class intellectuals saw the wealth that Union funneled from its edges being distributed generously to the citizens of the Core Worlds and declared a new economic paradigm of post-scarcity and mutual wealth. The anarchist cells with their mysterious reality-hacking mechs were the first to come to the only inevitable conclusion: the revolution was not over.
Now that the old order had been surgically deposed, the new order was finding itself fitting comfortably in its throne. Humbled and stripped of its previous privileges, Harrison Armory was welcomed back into the halls of power under the smiling auspices of free enterprise. Groundbreaking legislation was still being written in the halls of ThirdComm--guaranteeing the right of worlds to self-determination, the rights of clones to live freely, even radical and heretofore-unthinkable proposals laying the groundwork for an end to NHP-shackling. But the old revolutionaries had grown weary and cautious (and, of course, had begun to personally experience the economic benefits of Union's vast hegemony). To enforce this legislation, they argued, would be a de facto redeclaration of war against the corpostates, a disaster for the trade networks on which our wealth depends. To those who still harboued the hopes of revolutionary change, this was a loud and clear signal: the war had not ended. The revolution was not over.
The All-Galaxy Revolutionary Front as it exists now is a set of strange bedfellows. The disciplined combat battalions of the Communist Party fly in perfect harmony, distinguishable by their red battle flags, mass-produced in collectivized forges with reverse-engineered corpo tech. The motley individual oddities that the anarchists call their mechs, their open-source physics-bending HORUS peculiarities, strike unpredictably, in and out of ThirdComm's sight. But the one thing which binds them all, as they fight for the liberation of the peripheral worlds, for the wealth of mines and factories to enrich the people of the planets they're built on instead of fueling ever-replenishing consumption in the distant Core, is that they still have those old revolutionary dreams.
This is what it means to be a Lancer: to be willing to struggle. To acknowledge that the revolution is not over.
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daddy-dotcom · 9 months
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The Visit
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Spencer Reid x Female Reader
Summary: Things aren’t looking good for Spencer after his visit to Mexico. So you decide to prepare for the worst, and you knew getting married was the only surefire way to stay connected while he was locked up.
Rating: M
Words: 5,333
Warnings: Language, typical canon violence, smut (fingering, p in v, breeding kink if you squint, unprotected sex)
*Disclaimer: Major inaccuracies for how the American prison system works lol*
TL;DR: Spencer and Reader get married so that they can have conjugal visits while he's in prison.
__________________________________________
I couldn’t bear to see him like this. Even worse, I couldnt bear to not be able to hold him and tell him everything was okay. Seeing him behind bars, alone, was enough to make me fight back tears. I’ve seen him hurt before, but this was different. It was almost as if I were staring at the ghost of Spencer Reid. I knew going to Mexico to get his mother’s medication was risky, but I had no idea that he’d end up in this much trouble. I should have stopped him. I should have gone with him. But no matter how guilty I was feeling, the damage was already done. With no concrete evidence that he was framed, it looked like Spencer was most likely going to be found guilty for murder. The love of my life was going to prison and I was completely helpless in the situation. At least I thought I was. . .until an idea struck me. An insane idea, and somewhat of a long shot, but an idea nonetheless, some small way to help Spencer keep his sanity while he was locked up. I wasn’t sure if he would go for it, but I had to try.
“hey, Spence,” I said with my face pressed against the cool metal of the bars.
“hi, (Y/N)” he said with the faintest hint of a smile on his lips.
“you’re looking more like yourself, baby. And they’re letting you come home with us on the jet.”
He slowly nodded his head in agreement, unsure of what else to say. For a man who typically had so much to say, it was eerie to be in such a silent room.
It’s now or never.
“So Spence, you know I was thinking, in case the…the unthinkable happens, and you aren’t acquitted…” I was fighting back the tears, trying to get my idea across,
“…maybe we should…I think it might be a good idea if we…get married?”
He immediately looked up to meet my gaze, looking more alive than he has the entire time we’ve been in Mexico.
“Married?” he said softly.
“Well it would only be so I can visit you, Spence. I mean like visit you visit you, without all the guards watching us and in a place where I can actually hold you and spend more time with you. Hell, I can’t even hug you for more than a couple seconds during a regular visit”
I could see the gears turning in his mind, something I’ve seen a million times, but I couldn’t tell if he was actually considering my offer.
“It’s been a year Spence, it’s not like we haven’t talked about it.”
It’s true. We’ve been dating for over a year now, and we’ve both made it clear that we’d like to marry each other some day. But we never imagined it would be this soon and under these circumstances.
Spencer got up from the bench he’d been sitting on and came over to hold my hand through the bars.
“Even if I weren’t facing prison time…it would be an absolute honor to marry you, (Y/N)”
All of the tension in my body melted away now that I knew he was on board with my proposition. I gave him a warm smile as he gently cupped my face in his hands. He planted a soft kiss on my forehead and held onto my hand before getting down on one knee.
“If we’re going to do this, I’d at least like to propose to you properly,” he said, with as much of a smile as he could muster.
“(YFN/YLN), will you marry me?” he asked.
The dam finally broke and I couldn’t fight back the tears any longer. They began to stream down my face as I let out a firm and resounding “Yes.”
______________________________
I was practically squirming in my seat on the plane ride home. It was almost impossible to keep this secret and it took everything I had not to blurt out our plan. I knew that I had to tell them soon, since we were going to need their help to make this happen. With a deep breath, I pulled Spencer up from our seats and marched over to the rest of the team.
“Guys, Spencer and I have an announcement to make,”
“Oh my god you’re not pregnant, are you?” said JJ.
“No! No, it’s not that,” I replied, I hesitated before dropping the bomb.
“Spencer and I are getting married.”
Prentiss and JJ exchanged a confused look while Alvez’s mouth hung open in shock. Rossi, however, seemed to know exactly what was going on.
“Oh I get it, you two want to get married so that (Y/N) can request ‘family visits.’” The implications of putting the word ‘family visits’ in airquotes was not lost on me. “You all might of heard of what they used to call them back in the day: conjugal visits.”
“Actually the practice conjugal visits have evolved into a more family oriented experience. Modern family visits usually last the weekend and include children and other family members besides just a spouse.”
“Glad to see you’re almost back to normal, kid” quipped Rossi.
“Well if we’re going to do this, we’re going to need some help. Prentiss, do you have anyone that can meet us at Quantico and marry us on such short notice?” I asked.
“I’m already making the call.”
“Does anyone else think this is just a little bit crazy? There’s a good chance that Spence won’t even go to prison at all,” JJ said.
Alvez snapped out of his daze and interjected.
“I agree, but if Reid and (Y/N) get to spend some alone-time together in the event that he does go, I don’t see the harm. I mean come on, Rossi’s been married like what, five times?”
“Hey, it’s only been three times,” Rossi responded.
“Look, JJ, you would do it for Will, wouldn’t you?”
She paused for a minute, pondering my question.
With a sympathetic look, JJ responded
“of course I would.”
_________________________________
As soon as we landed, we were greeted by Garcia and the court officiant who Prentiss had called on the plane. Garcia nearly tackled us coming out of the elevator, completely overjoyed to see Spencer home in one piece.
“Oh I’m so glad you’re all home safe!” she said squeezing us in a tight embrace.“But I can’t believe I had to find out about your engagement via a text from Alvez!”
“Sorry Penn, it was super last minute,” I said with a shrug.
“I brought you some things while you were on the plane ride home. (Y/N), for you I got a white dress, sorry I had to guess on the size, and Reid I asked your mom’s nurse if it was okay to grab a clean suit from your apartment.”
“Oh Penn, you didn’t have to do all this. Where did you even find a dress on such short notice?”
“Emily’s not the only one with connections sweet cheeks,” she said with a wink.
“Thank you so much, really Penn I appreciate it.”
“No need to thank me, now you and boy-wonder go get dressed so we can get you hitched.”
I took the bag from Penelope and inspected its contents once inside the bathroom. It was a simple but gorgeous white gown. It came down to about my calves, and it had white cap sleeves with a sweetheart neckline.
Classy. The woman has good taste.
I took a deep breath before exiting the stall, and I was greeted by Penelope, Emily, and JJ standing by the sink.
They all turned their heads towards me and gasped before looking me up and down.
“You look absolutely stunning,” said Emily.
“Spence is definitely gonna cry when he sees how gorgeous you look,” added JJ.
The tears had already started streaming down Penelope’s face as she walked over to me and placed one of her bracelets on my wrist.
“There, now you have your something blue,” she said with teary eyes. “You make the most beautiful bride (Y/N)”
“I’d love to stay in here and continue this little bachelorette party but our court official is waiting out there to marry our two lovebirds,” said Emily.
With one final look in the mirror, I took a deep breath and headed out the door, on my way to officially become Mrs. Spencer Reid. The reality of marriage hadn't hit me until just now. Who can blame me? I'd only become someone's fiancé about 5 hours ago. My palms began to sweat as my priorities shifted towards my impending marriage. Even if I wasn't ready, it was my idea in the first place and I intended to keep my end of the bargain. I, however, was more worried about Spencer. What if he was having second thoughts? I barely brought the idea up to him a few hours ago, and he was coming off of drugs in a Mexican jail cell when he agreed. Just as I was begging to spiral, a hand grazed the side of my waist and Spencer appeared. He cleaned up surprisingly well given the circumstances, looking incredibly handsome in his suit.
"Nervous?" he asked. As a profiler and a genius, there was no way I was going to be able to conceal my nerves from him.
"Spence, don't you know you're not supposed to see me in my dress before the ceremony?" I joked.
"(Y/N), you know I don't believe in superstitions," he said wryly.
"But yes, I am little nervous, mostly because I was afraid you might be having second thoughts."
He smiled warmly, the same way he had done when he agreed to marry me earlier in the day.
"Living in Vegas, and working with Rossi, I've known quite a bit of people who've gotten married on a whim. While it might be a little sooner than we thought, it's giving me a chance to hold you close in case I..." his voice began to crack and I could see his eyes welling up, "...in case I get taken into custody. But trust me, (Y/N), there was never a doubt in my mind about marrying you, especially now that I'm seeing how beautiful you look in a wedding dress."
I was tearing up too, at this point, for about the fifth time today. I took both of his hands in mine and simply said "I love you Spence,"
"I love you too, (Y/N)."
____________________________________________
We walked hand in hand into the briefing room where everyone was waiting anxiously for us and Spencer and I took our place across from each other in front of the court official. We joined hands once more and I could see Penelope shoot me a thumbs while Alvez gave Spence a reassuring pat on the back. The official began to speak which caused my heart to practically beat out of my chest.
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here tonight to join this man and this woman in matrimony."
He turns toward Spencer before speaking again.
“Spencer, do you take this woman to be your wife, to live together in matrimony, to love her, to honor her, to comfort her, and to keep her in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?”
“I do” he said while maintaining my gaze. I could see tears start to form in the corners of his eyes, causing my eyes to well up too. But I couldn’t cry, because if I started now, I wouldn’t be able to stop.
“(Y/N), do you take this man to be your husband, to live together in matrimony, to love him, to honor him, to comfort him, and to keep him in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?"
“I do,” I manage to say with a lump forming in my throat.
The court official turns back to Spencer and asks him to repeat after him.
"I, Spencer Reid, take you (Y/N), to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer,” I could hear his voice start to crack as he fought back more tears, “in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part."
He said this with such conviction that there was no doubt in my mind that I wanted to marry this man. I’d never seen his eyes so full of love before. It was those kind eyes looking back at me that turned one of the worst days into the happiest day of my life. Now, it was my turn to recite my vows and officially become Mrs. Reid.
“I, (YFN/YLN), take you, Spencer Reid, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part."
It took everything in my power not to become a blubbering mess during my vows. Penelope, however, had no problem letting the tears flow freely down her rosy pink cheeks.
"By virtue of the authority vested in me under the laws of the District of Columbia, I now pronounce you husband and wife."
The court official gave a small smile before turning to Spencer and saying “you may kiss the bride."
Spencer wasted no time moving his hands to sit comfortably on my hips and I pulled his face in close for a kiss. This was something we’d done a million times before, but never for an audience. As soon as his lips touched mine, however, it felt as if we were the only two people in the room. All the exhaustion, pain, and suffering from the events of Mexico seemed to melt away as we kissed. He continued to press his lips more forcefully against mine and I could feel the slightest brush of his tongue before a voice spoke up from the crowd.
“Alright you two save it for the honeymoon,” Rossi joked.
We slowly pulled away and both our our cheeks began to blush like teenagers who’d just been caught by their parents. One by one, our team members came over to congratulate us and Penelope and JJ wanted a million pictures. We spent the rest of our night talking, laughing, and even dancing with our team members, just happy to find joy in this moment of darkness. Little did we know, Mexico was only the beginning of our troubles.
________________________________
Our wedding celebrations were cut short with the announcement that the FBI would not be legally representing Spencer since he broke protocol and didn’t inform them of his trip to Mexico. Once he went to trial, we still had no concrete evidence that he was framed, and his DNA was found on the murder weapon. Our worst nightmare had finally come true. Spencer was taken into custody and and whisked away to prison. A small part of me was grateful that I was now legally his wife, but I still wished that it didn’t have to happen under these circumstances. The day he was taken to prison, I immediately applied to be granted family visits and I begged Prentiss and Alvez to call in every favor they could to get moved up the waitlist. It was going to take a couple of months for Spencer to prove he was behaving in prison, but I could still visit him regularly before then. A couple of weeks after he was taken into custody, he was finally allowed to have visitors, and the team all unanimously agreed that I should be his first one. I wasn’t granted a family visit just yet, but I needed to see his face and finally be able to talk to him.
As I walked into the Millburn Correctional Facility, I was searched, went through a metal detector, and searched again before I was led into a room filled with a long partition and chairs on either side. I found a seat in the corner that had no one on either side of me and waited for Spencer to arrive. I nervously tapped my finger on the table as I anxiously waited to see my husband for the first time since he was taken to prison. I turned my head to see a tall, lanky figure in a white t-shirt and blue pants with a matching blue button up walking towards me. I could see his eyes light up when he spotted me and I could feel my entire being do the same.
“Hi baby,” I said, just happy to finally see him.
“Hi my love,” he replied with a ghost of a smile creeping up on his lips. I could tell he was slightly thinner and probably not sleeping well. However, his casual outfit combined with his shaggy hair and the growing stubble on his face somehow made him even more attractive.
“You look good baby, you holding up okay so far?”
“I'm doing okay, given the circumstances. How's my mom? Is she doing alright?"
"She's doing fine actually, Cassie said that she was having a really good day yesterday."
"Where did you, uh, tell her I was?"
"Uh, the beach," I told him with a chuckle, "well she asked if that's where you were and it seemed to make her happy so..."
"Good."
There was a pause and I couldn't tear my eyes away from his gaze. He wasn't breaking eye contact either and I could feel the love behind his stare.
"I, uh, I'm really happy to see you," he said, "I kind of wish you hadn't come, it's uh, not the best idea."
His words hurt slightly, but I knew the state that his mind was in. He didn't want to become a target and he definitely didn't want me to see him like this.
"Sorry Spence, but you're stuck with me," I said with a smile, "you got stuck with me the day you agreed to be my husband. And the last time I saw you, we promised for better or for worse. Besides, this is just the beginning, I've already applied for family visit privileges and we should be getting a date any day now. You don't know how badly I wish I could just hug you, Spence."
I saw him look down, I'm assuming in an attempt to fight back tears, before he spoke again.
"Thank you, (Y/N). I'm so grateful everyday that you're now my wife. But if you're here, that means you're not out working on a case, and I don't want to be a burden."
"That's nonsense Spence, you could never be a burden to me."
"Tell me about the case then, it will help get my mind off... all this."
I proceeded to give him the details of our latest case and I assured him that the rest of the team would be coming by to check in on him and visit him as well. It pained me that I couldn't hug or kiss him goodbye, but I held out hope that it wouldn't be long before I finally could.
While our team members were busy taking turns visiting Spencer in prison, I decided to start writing him letters. Most of them consisted of me catching him up on cases and my personal life, or lack thereof, while others were love letters that expressed just how much I truly missed him. Even though Spencer Reid is a certified genius and an excellent agent, at the end of the day he was still just a man and I knew that the stress that came with being in prison combined with not being able to touch me everyday was likely driving him insane. Luckily, our prayers had been answered and all of the favors from Prentiss and Alvez came through. I finally received a date for my family visit with Spencer, which would be three weeks from now. In the meantime, I began penning a letter to Spencer to tell him the good news. But this wouldn't be one of our typical letters; this letter was going to be much dirtier in nature. I had to admit that I too was starting to feel the effects from the lack of physical contact. So in my letter, I was going to tell him exactly what I wanted to do with him at our "family visit."
_______________________________
The day had finally arrived. Not only was I going to be able to see my husband, I was going to be able to hug him, touch him, hold him, and kiss him…among other things. In all honesty, I was just excited to see him with some semblance of normalcy. I had been researching spousal visits for the past three weeks, and the general consensus was that all of these women were dressing to impress. So I put on my nicest skirt, tight-fitting one that I had previously purchased with the intention of wearing to work but it was slightly too short for the office, and a floral blouse with spaghetti straps that was just low-cut enough to see the top of my cleavage. I paired the outfit with nude stilettos and fixed up my hair and makeup as nicely as I could. While my outfit certainly didn’t leave everything to the imagination, I still had to maintain a certain level of modesty. After all, I was still a federal agent.
The search process for spousal visits was much more intense, so much so that I couldn’t even bring my phone into the room with me. I was, however, allowed to bring books and a chess set for Spencer. I made my way through a longer hallway than the one I had gone through the last time, which led out to a courtyard where a row of temporary buildings sat. I was then escorted into one of the 4 rooms in the building and I was instructed to wait for the guards to bring Spencer in. I sat with my legs crossed on the bed in the middle of the room, which was unsurprisingly bare. The room resembled a somewhat nice motel room, with a kitchenette in one corner, a couch in the other, and a separate bathroom. The only sounds I could hear in the room were the ticking of the clock on the wall and the pounding of my heart in my chest. I wasn't nervous to see my husband, it was actually just the opposite. I was positively inpatient at the thought of finally being able to make physical contact with the love of my life. In an effort to distract myself, I poked around the bedside table, knowing damn well what I was going to find. There were more innocent items in the drawer, like soap and toothpaste, and right next to it were lubricant and condoms. We won't be needing those, I thought to myself with a smirk forming at the corner of my lips. I was startled by a knock at the door and quickly shut the door. I quickly adjusted my top and fixed my hair before replying.
"Come in!"
The door slowly swung open to reveal a handcuff-free Spencer standing in the doorway. He stood frozen in place, looking at me in disbelief that I was actually here. I stood up from my spot on the bed and ran over to give him the biggest hug. I squeezed my arms around his torso and buried my face in his chest. We stood like this for a moment, in the doorway, just familiarizing ourselves with each other once again.
"You don't know how long I've been waiting to do that, Spence."
I finally lifted my head up to get a good look at him while snaking my hands up to cup is face.
"Trust me, I've probably been more desperate to hug you than you have,"
"Oh really?" I asked with raised eyebrows, "you know this isn't a competition right?"
"Oh, I know. But if it was, I would win," he said, with the slightest hint of a playful smirk.
I took Spencer's hand in mine and pulled him over to my spot where I was sitting when he arrived. Our hands stayed connected as we sat side by side on the edge of the bed. While I was admittedly aroused at the thought of finally being able to make love again, all of those thoughts melted away when I finally saw him. Truthfully, I was just happy to spend some quality time with him and give him a break from this awful situation.
"How have you been since the last time I saw you, love?"
"I've been doing okay, mostly trying to keep my head down. I guess you could say I made a friend, though. His name is Calvin Shaw-"
"The agent who killed his informant?!" I exclaimed.
"Well yes, but he's the only one who knows I'm a federal agent and he's been pretty generous. Getting me moved to my own cell, giving me books and playing chess with me."
I gently placed a kiss on his forehead and began to stroke his beautiful veiny hand with my thumb.
"I'm just happy you're not completely alone in there baby"
"I've managed to make some connections, but what's been keeping me going is the thought of seeing you. I've actually been looking forward to this since the last time we spoke. . . and I haven't been able to stop thinking about that letter you sent me."
A wicked smile crept onto my lips as I realized which letter exactly he was referring to.
"Oh that letter! I'm glad you enjoyed it baby, I meant every word. I've been missing you in more ways than one. . ." I said, moving my free hand to his thigh. He inhaled deeply at my touch and his gaze was locked on mine.
"Well you don't have to miss me anymore, love, I'm right here. If we're being honest, I don't think I'll be able to focus on our conversation until I've had my way with you," he said, moving one hand to slide his fingers into my hair. I melted into his touch then I leaned forward to whisper in his ear.
"You can have me, baby, any way you want," I replied, trying my best to look up at him with doe eyes.
He forcefully leaned in to place his lips on mine, and now both of his hands were tugging at my hair. This kiss was passionate, but in a way we've never experienced before. Since we've met, we've never spent more than a few days apart. This kiss was different, it was filled with longing and desperation. Months of going without physical contact has finally led to this moment. The moment when dam finally breaks and the sexual tension that's been building in our written correspondence comes to the surface.
One hand stayed pulling my hair while the other made its way to my breast. Equally touch starved, I moved my hand up his thigh to palm the now evident bulge forming in his pants. He hissed in response and I used then opportunity to force my tongue further into his mouth. He began to suck on it and I moaned into him at the feeling. He abruptly moved from my mouth and started working down towards my neck."
"You know," he said, breathlessly, between kisses "after you sent me that letter, I couldn't help myself. I'm lucky I have my own cell, I had to get some relief or else I would've gone insane."
"You're not the only one baby, " I replied in a daze as he continued tome further down my neck, "I would touch myself at night wishing it was your fingers inside of me."
He grunted at my words and buried his face in my breasts.
"You wore this top just for me didn't you?"
"Mhm, just for you."
"I think it's time we see what's underneath," he said as he pulled the shirt swiftly over my head. My lips crashed back into his and I made quick work of undoing the buttons on his shirt. I wasn't used to seeing Spencer in a white t-shirt, so I soaked up the image as best I could before pulling his shirt off and discarding it on the floor.
"You said you missed my fingers, baby?" I sighed a resounding "yes" before he moved his hands up my skirt, barely brushing his fingertips against my panties. I moaned at the contact, and I felt him smirk against my lips before pushing my panties aside and inserting a digit into my wet folds.
"Fuck, Spencer" I groaned as his long fingers stretched inside me.
"You're so tight, love. You really did miss me stretching you out, didn't you?"
"Yes!" I yelled and he began to pump his fingers in and out.
The room filled with the sounds of our moans and Spencer pumping in and out of me. I could feel a familiar pressure tightening in my abdomen, but I needed more of him. I knew he needed me too because I could see his erection straining through his pants. It's almost as if he read my mind because he removed his fingers and placed them in my mouth.
"Fuck, I need you so badly, (Y/N)," he said as I sucked on his fingers.
Not bothering to take off my skirt, I laid back on the bed as he pushed up the fabric and pulled off my panties. He undid his own pants and threw them haphazardly onto the floor along with his underwear. He brushed his fingers along my now exposed cunt, gathering my arousal on his fingertips.
"You're so wet for me baby, it's driving me insane."
He slid his hard length along my pussy, which earned a moan from the both of us before he pushed the tip into me.
"Oh my god, Spence," I whined. He was stretching me out so well since I haven't had him inside me in weeks.
"Baby you're so tight," he said, letting his mouth hang open in pleasure.
"Please, Spence. . .fuck me," I pleaded. He wasted no time and began to give me deep strokes. I moaned at every thrust, which only motivated him to thrust harder and deeper. His pace became relentless as the tip of his length was now hitting my cervix.
"Fuck, Spencer, come for me. I want you to fill me up, baby."
"Anything for you, love," he said, giving me everything he has.
"I want your babies Spencer, please!" I screamed, knowing full well that I was on the pill and that wasn't going to happen. . . yet.
That was all it took for him to spill his load inside of me. We both became moaning messes as he came. Once he was finished, he rolled off of me and ran to the bathroom to help me clean up. I went to pee, and when I returned, Spencer laid his head on my chest and we sat, cuddled in silence, until nightfall. Under the cover of darkness, I could hear quiet sobs coming from Spencer and I felt little drops of tears on my breasts.
"Baby are you okay? What's wrong my love?" I said, raking my hands through his soft wavy locks.
"I don't want to go back in there," he said, like a child, in barely more than a whisper.
"I wish I could stay here with you indefinitely. I wish I never had to sleep apart from you again. I was trying to be strong for you, (Y/N), but it's so much worse than I imagined."
I didn't press him for details, but I couldn't help but begin to cry in sympathy.
"Listen to me, Spence. I can't even being to understand what you're going through, but you are the strongest person I know. I also know that you have a team of people behind you who love you and will stop at nothing to prove you're innocent. Just remember that every time you're lonely or scared, baby. And we'll keep visiting you and sending you letters and books, anything we can do to keep your mind busy."
"Thank you, my love," he said, slowly rising up to plant a kiss on my lips.
"For better or for worse remember?"
"For better or for worse."
He spent the rest of the night lying on my chest as I stroked his hair and lulled him to sleep, avoiding the dread of being separated in the morning for as long as we could.
_________________________________________
AN: Finally finished this fic omg it was a long time coming. But I've been busy in medical assisting school and this one required a lot more research than my previous works lol. But finally happy with the result and please show it some love. Thanks to all my moots for believing in this :)
Taglist:
@reidscaffeine @swaggysagiewagie@v-i-o-l-e-t@louderfortheback
@sadroses98@lauravegann @coldoaftoadzipper-blog@avis-writeshq@inkwriter122 @bitchysweetskitty @cryingoverfelix@whyisitdifferent@namjoonspinkytoenail@thatsonezesty13 @singinghamtaro-blog@abbeyskeff@cassie444
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floralpascal · 1 year
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Something To Live For
Summary: A quiet morning with you shows Ghost the possibility of the life he could have with you - a life he never thought would be his.
Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader (no use of y/n)
Word Count: 649
Rating: Mature (Series is 18+ only though, mdni!)
Warnings: talk of death, secret relationship, Ghost finally experiencing happiness
A/N: This man deserves some happiness, so here it is. While I love to write Ghost agonizing over his feelings, exploring how he is when he fully embraces them is my absolute favorite
Illicit Indulgences Series Masterlist
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There were a lot of things Ghost thought he would never have. 
And you? You were every single one of them. 
For so long, all that existed in Ghost’s life was the brutal reality of war. He gave almost every second of his time to his job. There wasn’t room for someone else in the picture. He barely had the time or the trust to invest in someone unknown. Even if someone gained his trust and was willing to put up with him being gone most of the time, it was too dangerous for them. The people in Ghost’s life always seemed to be put in the line of fire because of him. It was easier to avoid it altogether. 
Besides, he wasn’t delusional. He knew that his chances of surviving to old age in this line of business were slim-to-none. Hell, he was lucky to have even made it this far. His life was on borrowed time. For as grim as it was, he had made peace with that. 
Examining the way the pale golden light of the morning spilled across your features, Simon ran a finger down your spine. You slept like this often now, your body laying on top of his with your warm cheek pressed to his broad shoulder, your arms wrapped around his middle as if you were afraid he would slip away from you. In this position, he could feel the rhythm of your breath carrying his anxieties away with the rise and fall of your chest. Your face was always so soft as you slept against him, the weight of the life you both lived lifted in this state. 
Like this, with your warm bare skin pressed to his and your legs woven together, Simon could hardly tell where he ended and you began. To be honest, he loved the feeling. The world was no longer simply filled with threats and danger, it was filled with the warm and soft embrace of safety.
In a couple hours, he would get up and make you breakfast. He would sit with you at your table as you ate, admiring the rare carefree slump of your shoulders as you leaned your arms against the wooden surface. He would hide a smile behind his morning tea as you contemplated your schedule for the day. He would wrap his arms around you on the couch, listening to the light ring of your laugh at some dumb joke he made about the show you were watching.
Every moment was a glimpse of the life he could have one day. They were glimpses of a life with you, away from all the violence and death. A carefree life. A loving life. 
In the past, he never let himself even consider having something like this. It was unthinkable - something meant for a man who led a much different life than Ghost did. 
Yet, here he laid in your bedroom in your house for the millionth time, his mask long forgotten on your bedroom floor. He didn’t need it here. Not with you. And for the first time in a long time, he didn’t even want it. For the first time in a long time, he was just Simon. Your Simon. 
That was something to live for. This - a lazy morning in your bed with you, without a care for the chaos of the outside world - was something to live for. 
Ghosting the tip of his thumb along the soft skin of your back, he made a silent promise to you: he would live. The life he thought he would never have? He would live to have it with you. He would fight for it, claw his way back from the grave if he had to. Whatever he had to do to keep you safe in his arms, he would do it.
Because you were the best thing to live for.
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seventeenlovesthree · 6 months
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@digimon02countdown Day 7 - What do you love about Digimon Adventure 02?
While my attachment to Digimon started and persisted due to my love to the original Adventure, there are still quite a few things about 02 that always kept me around. I have already hinted at it in previous posts; the relationships, similarities and support between the "older" and "new" Chosen Children, the concept of the multiverse, Jogress evolution (also the fact that my OTP are absolute dads to the kids)... But I'd say the most important aspect for me is the bonding between the characters. And nothing signifies this more for me, nothing is as outstanding, significant and vibrant - as the development of the relationship between Daisuke and Ken.
I would argue that, overall, no relationship gets that much focus, that much visible positive development than these two. And yes, upon getting asked, I will never deny that, in my opinion, there is a sense of romantic tension between them too, but in this post, I just want to write about how fascinating, soothing and beautiful their bond is to me in general.
Their initial set-up is, once again, that of rivals. That is a theme Digimon has always been playing with - but I'd say no other series threw that trope for a loop like this before. On one hand, there is the fact that they're both playing football, even ending up facing each other at a point in the series where Ken is still considered to be that perfect, untouchable genius, good at and with everything, while Daisuke is considered a thick-headed knucklehead, goodhearted, but brash and not really talented in many areas - and yet, he still admired Ken at this point. Then of course, there is the fact that they're on opposing ends, enemies in the Digital World, having brutal, cruel fights against one another as Chosen Child vs. Digimon Kaiser - until the spell breaks, with the Crest of Miracles breaking Ken's curse.
And from now on, the boy - who's responsible for his own Digimon partner's death and the suffering of so many others - will have to face the aftermath of what he's done, dealing with guilt and self-esteem issues, feeling unworthy and unlovable.
But then there is Daisuke - the only one who immediately wants to give him the chance to atone for what he's done. He is not forgiving him right away, but wants him to be able to make up for everything - and with kindness and the persistence to not let him sacrifice himself and die, they achieve the unthinkable: Their Digimon combine, their hearts pound in sync. They seem to be connected in ways that make Daisuke get excited - and scare the heck out of Ken. He thought he didn't have anything or anyone else but his reborn Digimon partner and family, and now there's this boy he used to fight, he used to be enemies with... Who simply wants to be his friend, who wants them to be "partners" and work together.
It's confusing, it's scary. While Daisuke is sure that they're meant to be and fight next to each other, it takes time for Ken to feel ready to take the steps towards him, the others, forming bonds, friendships. But Daisuke being Daisuke makes it so much easier for him to let his walls down, slowly but steadily enabling him to show his gentle and soft side, starting to trust and rely on him as much as he does in return.
And Daisuke? Daisuke is displaying a sense of confidence and comfort that we rarely saw before - he tended to be so focused on impressing others, covering up his own insecurities with cockiness. But his bond with Ken makes all his natural kindness and straightforwardness come through easily. He may appear more simple-minded at first glance, but his heart has the right priorities - and he'll do what it takes to save Ken, from himself, from darkness, helping him to be his true self.
Daisuke doesn't doubt their connection for a second - and that's why it's so important that Ken is still able to shake him. That he has an impact on him like no other. He will give Ken all the time he needs to face his demons, to do the things that are uncomfortable to him - and he'll be by his side all the way.
They are partners, they've got each other's backs. And as long as they don't lose sight of themselves and each other, it will always be this way.
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6lostgirl6 · 11 months
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Ties That Bind Part 1
Pairing: Yandere!Anakin Skywalker x Fem Jedi!Reader
TW: General Yandere Behavior, Kidnapping, Mentions of Murder
A/N: I am very excited to be sharing another wonderful collab with the amazing person @britany1997! She has been very supportive and an absolute joy to work with! We have shared many laughs together while working on this fic! She is a very talented writer and friend and you should send her your love! She deserves it! I love you Britany! ❤️
Word Count: 2.3k
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Sweat pooled around Anakin as he sprang forward in bed, gasping in a haze of fear and anger. His head fell to his hands as he struggled to catch his breath.
Sleep had eluded him for months as every night ended the same, with visions of your corpse flashing through his tortured mind. 
Anakin discarded his blanket in frustration, grabbed your picture from his work bench, and sat on the floor to meditate. 
His brow furrowed as he attempted to squash his rage and uncertainty, to let them go and let the force fill him with the comfort he needed. 
But to let go of his emotion, would be to let go of you.
Though he mumbled to himself, ‘there is no emotion, there is peace, there is no passion, there is serenity,’ he couldn’t make himself believe that. You were his peace, you were his serenity.
He abandoned his meditation in a huff. Anakin liked to think he was a patient man, a good Jedi. Yet how could he sit back and do nothing? The visions would never stop, it was time to take matters into his own hands.
Despite his failures at meditating and stopping his mind from whirling, he was struck by a solution. He was deep in concentration, staring at the ground, your picture nestled against his uncovered chest.
The visions would undoubtedly stop if he could protect you and keep you safe from harm. What if the force hadn't been working against him after all? He was immediately filled with purpose, a fire in his eyes that couldn't ever be extinguished. He will defend you even if it means doing the unthinkable and abandoning the Jedi code. 
What other reason would there be besides protecting the one you loved the most, even if it required being selfish? Absolutely nothing was of greater significance than you, his long-time friend, whom he had been pining over for many years. The forbidden feelings he could no longer ignore. There was no greater reason, no other reason, than you. 
It was all for love. 
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Despite the summons from the Chancellor, Anakin thought the Galaxies Opera House was well worth the journey through Coruscant. Though the visions of your impending death haunted him, Squid Lake, a strange ballet performed by a team of Mon Calamari acrobats, calmed his worries and enabled his mind to focus on something far more pleasant. He wished he could take you to one as lovers rather than as companions one day once you are away from harm. The Chancellor, however, required his attention once more.
His eyes were focused ahead as he said, "The Sith and the Jedi are similar in almost every way, including their quest for greater power." The Chancellor’s face bore a deep and serious expression.
“The Sith rely on their passion for their strength; they think inwards, only about themselves.” Anakin answered back firmly, turning his head towards him as he spoke.
“And the Jedi don’t?” asked the Chancellor, turning his attention towards Anakin without wavering, his eyes never leaving his face.
“The Jedi are selfless, they only care about others.” Anakin spoke strongly, turning his attention forward, just before the Chancellor continued to speak, making Anakin's blood run cold.
“Although they prevent you from loving freely in accordance with your own desires. They would never approve of your love for your friend or the things you would do for her.” He spoke with a voice filled with stomach-churning truth. “Your companion, (Y/N).”
Anakin turned to face the older man, his eyes wide with surprise as he whispered quietly. "How did you know-"
"I know many things, Anakin." He responded. "You say they are selfless and care about others. But what would the council say if they learned of your hidden desires, your affection that you have for your fellow Jedi?" 
For once, Anakin couldn't speak because the Chancellor's words struck him deeply. His eyes were fixed on the opera playing ahead of him as he slowly sunk into his chair. He wasn't watching the event, though; instead, he was fixated on his thoughts, his visions of your approaching demise, and the possibility that the council would learn of his feelings for you. They'd shun him. He couldn't save you if they were in the way. His heart was pounding, and his mind was racing. 
It was the Chancellor's voice that silenced his racing thoughts. 
“You ever hear the tragedy of Darth Plagueis the wise?” 
No, he would not let them stop him from loving you, from saving you.
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Your saber clashed against Anakin’s as you traded swipes back and forth. He smirked as you narrowly missed his shoulder. You stuck out your tongue in reply.
It’d probably be easier to spar with someone else, you and Anakin had trained together as Padawans, practically grown up together. He knew every move you’d make before you could even think to make it. But, unfortunately for him, you could anticipate his every move as well.
You leaped as he swiped his saber at your feet, “missed again Ani,” you teased. You noticed a strange expression cross his face when you uttered his name, but it quickly vanished.
“You’re lucky today,” he smirked, “but luck runs out.” Anakin swiped his foot behind yours, causing you to tumble onto your back, he stood over you, lightsaber pointed towards your chest. 
You groaned, “fine, I yield.”
He chuckled as he switched his weapon off and offered you his arm to pull you to your feet. “Better luck next time?” he teased. 
“Ha ha,” you mumbled humorlessly, as you allowed him to pull you up.
"Let's not pretend you didn't cheat, Ani." You continued jokingly. You leaned over to grab your fallen lightsaber when you failed to notice the unknown expression resurfacing on his face. However, it did not completely disappear, his darkening eyes fixated on your body, images racing through his mind of scenarios unsuitable for a Jedi.
He adored it when you addressed him as such. 
His expression returned to normal as you straightened up, and he had a mischievous smile on his face once again. "Never, ever underestimate your opponent." He chuckled as he extinguished his lightsaber and attached the hilt to his belt.
“Yeah, Yeah.” You replied, the smile refusing to vanish from your expression. 
"Come now; I only tease." Anakin remarked softly, staring at you with a more genuine smile, one that could compete with the sun if he so desired. Since you were both padawans, he has consistently been an enchanting man. He had a way of charming himself out of most trouble and making one's heart feel like it was going to burst.
This was a secret you kept hidden within your heart for many years, the sentiments you had for Anakin that were more than just friendship. However, according to the Jedi code and attachment regulations, you did everything you could to drive those emotions away. Your feelings got less difficult to disguise as you practiced meditation and late-night self-reflection. In addition, you knew in your core that Anakin was an exceptionally gifted Jedi and that your affections for him were never going to be reciprocated. 
“Everything alright?” 
You recovered from your subconscious, glancing at Anakin as he stood directly in front of you, his eyebrows furrowed in slight concern. 
"Yes, I'm sorry." You replied before reactivating your lightsaber, your eyes bright with purpose and your smile returning. "Let's continue."
After many long hours of trading blows, you and Anakin were huffing, your foreheads drenched with sweat. 
“Call it a night?” you asked as Anakin wiped his brow clean. 
“Mhmm,” he hummed in reply, “it’s late, want an escort back to your quarters?”
You laughed. He didn’t. 
“No Ani it’s fine,” you promised, “I think I can manage the couple of steps it takes to get there.”
“It’s on my way anyway,” he protested.
You shot him a confused expression, “on your way to where?” 
“To the archives,” he told you nonchalantly, “I needed to look into something.”
Your brow furrowed, “look into what?”
He groaned, tugging gently at your arm, “just let me escort you.”
“Fine, fine,” you reluctantly caved.
He offered you his shoulder, a smirk painted on his face. You scoffed and punched his arm instead, causing a soft laugh to fall from his lips. 
He smiled and shook his head at your stubbornness, you never made anything easy. But it didn’t matter, he’d never been one to back down from a challenge.
The walk to your quarters passed quickly as you exchanged stories with Anakin. You clutched your stomach as tears rolled down your cheeks as he told you the story of his last battle with General Grevious. Anakin had spent so much time with Obi Wan over the years, Anakin’s impression of his sarcastic banter was spot on.
“Well this is me,” you joked, gesturing to your door. Anakin nodded but didn’t move to head towards the archives. 
Your brow furrowed in confusion, “…so I’ll see you tomorrow?” 
He seemed to snap from his momentary trance, “yes of course,” Anakin hesitated, “do you need anything else before I go?”
Your head cocked to one side, “no, not really.” 
Walking you to your room had been strange in itself, this was ridiculous. “Ani…” you bit your lip, “are you ok?”
Anakin seemed taken aback by your sudden question, “of course,” he composed himself, “I better be off to the archives, I’ll see you for training in the morning.”
You watched him walk off before slipping into your room. You sat down to meditate, but you couldn’t rid your mind of Anakin’s weird behavior. Something wasn’t right. 
You sighed, coming to terms with the fact that you would not be one with the force tonight and crawling into bed. As you drifted to sleep a thought popped into your head.
Weren’t the archives in the opposite direction?
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Anakin sent a glass flying into his wall in frustration. He watched as it shattered, spraying shards onto the floor around his work desk. 
He threw his head into his hands. He could monopolize your training time, walk you to your quarters every night, wake up early to be at your door every morning.
But it would only take one second, one second where he left you alone, one second where he wasn’t right by your side, one second and you were gone forever. 
If he balled his fists any harder, his fingernails would slice the skin. He knew what he had to do. You might hate him for a moment, but he could live with that.
But if you died? There was no living if not with you.
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The Jedi Temple was destroyed.
Your fellow Jedi were slaughtered in cold blood. 
You could feel your heart frantically beating as you rushed through the halls of pure massacre, the walls forever tarnished by the horrors that had been committed. Fellow Jedi that you’ve trained with are lying on the floor lifeless, and some are in cauterized pieces. You felt like you could throw up at any moment, the hilt of your lightsaber held in your shaky grasp. You were in a state of delirium; your thoughts were filled with dueling lightsabers and people screaming in fear. However, there was one thing that was absolutely certain.
You needed to find Anakin.
‘Please, let him be safe.’ You thought to yourself as you managed to turn a corner, your other hand gripping your ribcage, your heart threatening to explode. ‘By the force, please protect him.’ 
You were anxious to find him, yet filled with dread. Your mind was racing with images of his form in pieces, his eyes lifeless without any warmth. It almost made the journey too much to bear. 
You rounded another corner that led towards the entrance of one of the temple’s many great halls. As you pushed through the entrance, a heavy feeling filled your chest, and you were completely unable to go any further. Your eyes were wide, and you could feel your breath failing you. 
As you gazed into the distance, you noticed a familiar figure, clad in a brown robe with a hood covering his face, that you had never failed to recognize, even at a distance. As the figure walked towards you, a large group of clone soldiers followed behind him, weapons drawn. In his hand was his own lightsaber, which he clutched tightly in his grasp.
Anakin.
"Ani!” You cried, disengaging your lightsaber and rushing towards him with tears in your eyes, prepared and ready to meet him with a sense of relief. 
You threw your arms around him, tears rolling down your face as you sobbed. He returned your embrace, arms wrapping around the small of your back, pulling you into his chest.
“Ani,” you muttered between sobs, “I’m so glad you’re ok, I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”
He tightened his grip on your waist, holding you close, “I know what you mean…”
You sniffled as you tried to gather yourself, “Anakin, so many lives…” you hiccuped, “what happened.”
“Only what needed to.”
“What?” you exclaimed as you looked up to meet his eyes. 
The sight of his blood stained face made you gasp. No. This wasn’t the Anakin you knew. This couldn’t be happening.
But it was. The man you’d carried a torch for all these years, your best friend and confidant, stood before you, clothed in the blood of your friends.
You pushed against his chest, trying to escape from his grasp but he refused to let you go. He held you tightly against him with one arm, using his other hand to brush hair from your face affectionately. A gesture that once would have made you blush now filled you with malice.
“I know you don’t understand now, but you will my love,” he whispered, “now sleep.”
“Anakin…no…” you fought a losing battle to keep your eyes open. You were strong in the force, but Anakin was stronger.
Your head lulled to the side as you fell asleep in his arms.
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gabessquishytum · 4 months
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Human AU! More asexual Dream agenda. Morpheus used to question his sexuality in his late teens and contemplated that he might be somewhere on the asexual spectrum. It seemed fine to him back then, that is, until he realized how much he didn't fit in when all the relationships his peers had seemed to revolve around sex. So, Morpheus started dating, went out with a few guys, but it died out naturally after a few dates because he refused to have sex. Eventually, he meets Calliope at the uni, and he's really in love and determined to do anything to make this work. They finally have sex, and...it's nothing spectacular. Morpheus just doesn't get why people seem to prioritize it so much (like, how can his friend Cori dedicate so much time to fucking his way through London when there're so many more interesting things to do? reading, for instance!). Anyway, as time goes by, Morpheus tries to really grasp this whole sexual aspect of relationship but it just evades him. He watches porn (it does nothing for him, but he switches on a video every now and then for educational purposes - maybe he'll see something that Calliope might like), tries his fair share of sex toys (some of them are nice, alright, but...cuddling in the blanket is nicer, still?), and comes to a spectacular conclusion that something is very wrong with him. After all, it's him who doesn't meet normal expectations. To make things worse, he starts to notice that Calliope avoids having sex with him (she's tired after work, has a headache, isn't in the mood, etc., and this goes on and on for weeks that turn into months), becomes more distant, and they slowly drift apart. It's a matter of time till they break up. Morpheus takes this as his personal failure, concentrates on his work, even goes to therapy, though he sabotages it before he can actually spell out that he thinks he's asexual, and...he doesn't date. Like, at all. Why set himself for another failure and disappointment? Enter Hob Gadling. They meet accidentally (or not so accidentally, if you ask Hob's elder sister), and Hob is smitten from the word go. He pursues Morpheus insistently yet never creepy; he is, in fact, very understanding and accommodating, and even though Morpheus bristled like a sad wet cat at first (and at second, too), he can't deny anymore that he's in love. He's scared shitless to fuck this up over sex again, but somehow, Hob manages to do the unthinkable: he puts Morpheus at ease. He figures out Morpheus is ace early on, and he's fine with wanking by himself till the end of time if his partner never ever wants to tumble in bed. There're other intimacies to be shared, they also matter! Morpheus doesn't believe him at first, but with time (and lots of cuddles), he cautiously accepts that this may be true. With sex no longer an obligation in his Google calendar, Morpheus even feels attraction...sometimes. It's a rare occasion, but Morpheus is shocked when he experiences it for the first time: he's never truly felt a desire before, and letting go feels scary. Hob is there for him and feels delighted to gently guide him in this exploration. And when Morpheus doesn't want anything sexual, which is most of the time? Hob's still happy with his magnificent husband, their Netflix evenings, disastrous baking, long romantic walks, endless literature discussions, and his right hand.
Gosh, i love this!!! Love the idea that Dream being able to change his perception of sex because it no longer feels like a chore or something that he's been forced into doing (by societal expectations). Mostly he's still not interested but occasionally if he does get a stirring of attraction or desire, he can plop himself down in Hob’s lap and be his pillow princess for an hour or two.
Calliope is probably the happiest person when she sees how content Dream is these days. She and Dream can be good friends (now Dream isn't psyching himself up to have sex with her, and she isn't just constantly getting the vibe that her husband doesn't want her). It's much nicer to have coffee and gossip.
And Dream gets to go home to his husband. Maybe they'll take a shower together, or dance around the kitchen and have a midnight feast. And they'll go to sleep after making out until their lips are sore. Dream will feel no expectations, except the expectation of Hob’s love. That is absolutely guaranteed.
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netherfeildren · 1 year
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FEAR OF GOD : Chapter I : I dreamt that time had ended
Series Masterlist ; Moodboard
Pairing: Joel Miller x OFC
Summary: What was monstrousness? What was it, but a certainty that there existed within you multitudes of desires, needs, guilts, impulses – humanity? At the end of the world, when the dust has finally settled, Joel grapples with what it is to take hold of your own monstrosity – your own humanity – and live with it. And what it is to bear that truth in the palm of your hand held towards the person you love, offer it to them, and have it be accepted for what it was. Courage, above all else, it is courage that is necessary to go on.
-OR-
Big bad Joel Miller falls in love and doesn't know how to deal with it.
Rating: Explicit 18+
Content Warnings: Mentions of suicidal ideations, unprotected sex, oral sex (M receiving), vaginal fingering, breeding kink kinda, Emotionally Constipated Joel Miller ™️
A/N: Hello, this is my first foray into posting my writing publicly. To be honest, it feels fucking weird and scary, but alas, here I am, pretending to be brave. Art is Botanica No. 23 by Gail Potocki.
Word Count: 6.2K
Read on AO3
CHAPTER I: I dreamt that time had ended
I'm most dangerous when I’m hungry. I’m most hungry
when I’m hurting. Seems like I’m always hurting. Nothing
but teeth. Nothing but the same words calling out to me
in my sleep. Grief asking its ghosts not to leave. Please.
It’s not up to me when I get to stop crying. Or hurting. 
Or holding memories in my mouth, gentle as bees
I promised not to eat, but oh, the hurt is so sweet.
- Saeed Jones, from “Date Night,” Alive at the End of the World
Loneliness and being alone were two things you’d always thought to be one and the same — a pair sitting side by side on the spectrum of human suffering. Now, at the end of the world, you knew differently. You’d gotten in bed with both. A kind of intimacy that made your bones ache.
After Beth, your sister, you’d been alone – out beyond the protection of the community you now called your own in Jackson – where you’d carved a little place for yourself. Then, you’d been so entrenched in your grief and shock, that you’d not been lucid enough to really feel loneliness at all. You were alone, but were too far gone to feel the specific melancholy of loneliness. It was all a vicious, almost unthinking, clawing for survival. That creature out beyond the walls was you, and sometimes you liked to pretend and tell yourself you left her out there, but in moments of stark honesty, when you let go of the lies you comforted yourself with, you don’t feel very sure.
Looking back, it’s almost a surprise that it never occurred to you, in those delirious days, in the aftermath of watching Beth get ripped to pieces by infected, to ever think to follow her in death. You think you’d just been too numb and shocked at the time to even consider the tidy solution a bullet to the head would’ve provided you. You can’t even tell if you regret the lack of foresight at that time or not. You suppose now, looking around yourself, at the somewhat full life you’ve settled yourself into, you’re grateful. 
But in Jackson, in Jackson you’d found loneliness. Despite being surrounded by a community that wanted to help you from the first moment, to care for you. Most especially because, in the light of this new life, you remembered everything about the aftermath of your sister’s death – with vivid clarity. The details were glaringly bright in your mind, and the peace and fullness of this new life you’d been afforded made those memories hurt all the worse. 
Your father had been a physician, a surgeon, before the outbreak, and early on he’d decided it was essential to pass on what he could. That he needed a protege. You fit the necessity nicely. You’d had a mind that absorbed knowledge at a rate that wasn’t necessarily useful in a world like the one you’d now found yourselves in, but he’d made good use of it, made a tool of you in the manner of an extension of himself. He’d started early trying to train you as best he could, given the circumstances. You’d had a fairly peaceful childhood up until you were eighteen living in the San Francisco QZ, given his position, and at around twelve years old he’d started a demanding study regimen. He was determined to make you into the closest semblance of a doctor he could through his own personal means of teaching. You’d always been well suited to a life of taking orders, doing what you were told, being who you were told to be. At the end of the world it was easier, you’d found, to do and be what you were told to – it came easily to you, and after all, your father knew best. You liked the security of being able to follow a set of directions without the anxiety of conjecture or uncertainty. A clearly laid out path was a safe path, and you found comfort in that. So you’d learned what he’d told you to learn. He said it was necessary, and so it became a necessity to you. Practiced what he’d told you to practice. And eventually, become what he wanted you to become. After your mother and father were killed in a raid shortly after your eighteenth birthday, it was just you and Beth, and you’d taken on your studies and training yourself. It wasn’t as efficient, especially after the QZ had fallen and you were forced to leave, could have been more thorough, but you felt well versed in the knowledge you’d gained thus far. Secure in the fact that you had the ability to help people as best you could with what you knew. It gave you purpose and allowed you to follow that path that’d been laid out for you. Provided some sort of comforting reminder of your father, your childhood, as well. The two of you had wandered for several years up until the time of her death. 
When you found Jackson after Beth, after days and days of wandering, of savage fear and a desperate clawing to just stay alive, just make it a little further, it was like coming upon paradise. An Eden safer and more cherished than anything before in all history. Connie, their resident doctor, who they were so lucky and grateful to have, had taken you under his wing. Connie and his nurturing comfort. Doing everything he could to build on the knowledge your father had instilled in you over the years. All the knowledge and practice he was so desperate to pass on to you. To build on your foundation. Doctors were few and far between, hard to find and even harder to keep, and Connie was old. Now well into his seventies, he was tired. His mind and body, nowhere near as agile as they’d once been. Your arrival in the community had been seen as a benediction, once he’d found out what your father had started in you. It was difficult to build a comprehensive curriculum, to find the right means of practical training in a world like this, but the two of you had managed fairly well. A deal had been struck with the leaders of the community to provide donated cadavers when they became available, if the families so allowed, if they had families. This allowed the two of you to practice hands on general surgical techniques he felt were essential for you to know. He’d tried, so far, to build a curriculum that was generally comprehensive – general surgery, obstetrics and gynecology, and internal medicine. In your spare time you read everything he’d ever found on botany and herbology. Everything else you supplemented with a collection of texts and scientific literature he’d been collecting since the outbreak, and had guarded and cared for fiercely . He saw his collection of medical texts as the key to the preservation and furthering of knowledge, and you agreed with him. After losing your father you couldn’t have asked for a more caring or dedicated mentor. 
But not only was his caring practical, for he’d brought you back to life with his patience. He’d lead you out of that hazy numbness you’d lost yourself in after Beth. Something you’d have stayed lost in the rest of your life if not for his guidance, the loss of her so devastating it was something molecular. The feeling left you so tired, almost emaciated in your grief – the only instinct was survival, no thought for perpetuation or preservation. And then, of course there was Ellie and Dina, Tommy and Maria. All who’d done their best to welcome you into the embrace of their friendship. You were grateful for them in ways you couldn’t ever put into words.
And yet, and yet, despite all this good; a caring community, a giving teacher,  loyal friendships, things you now knew you’d die to keep and protect, you were lonely. An aching kind of desperate loneliness, it’d blanketed you with a film of numbness that you hadn’t even really noticed, until one night you’d gotten home to the lovely warm house that’d been assigned to you, a place you’d been able to make a home, to realize, you had no one that was only yours. No one waiting for you. No more sister, no parents, no blood. No one to give yourself to. No one you’d always belong to, no matter what. 
You’d felt a level of desperation in that moment worse than many of your worst moments in this horrible thing the world you knew had come to be. 
But then there was him.
Joel.
Joel who was cold and stern and who had, at first, seemed so wholly disinterested in your existence you’d never thought there was any way he’d ever even think of looking at you as more than the girl he went to for stitches every now and then. As anything more than the person who patched up his never ending litany of scrapes and bruises. But who, at first sight, you’d seemed to take in and then never again look away from. Who you’d felt you’d known, recognized, at first glance. It was everything about him, really. His countenance – the air about him, slightly threatening, but in a way that told you you’d always be protected, safe,cared for if held in the circle of his embrace. And then his physicality – his face, his body, his smell . The feel of his skin beneath yours when you were closing or covering his wounds. The broad, thick planes of him, his long legs and tall frame that towered over your own. The man could overtake you if he chose to. You’d look at him and couldn’t help but think how hard he’d fuck. And you thought about that often. What it’d be like to cradle the heavy weight of him between your thighs, inside of you. What his skin would feel, taste like beneath your tongue. How you’d map the smattering of sun freckles on his chest and shoulders. And his eyes, deep and dark, and you knew they saw everything. That they were ever aware of what was going on around him. Wondered at what they’d feel like roving the hills and swells of your naked body – just for him. That he could probably see the yearning coming off of you like heat waves off the hot pavement. 
Joel who seemed to care fiercely about Ellie, who he saw as his daughter from the little you’d been able to garner from her and others about their connection, and not much else. He’d come to you on more than one occasion after Ellie’d been into the clinic for attention demanding an update on her condition, asking if there was something wrong. Ensuring she was alright, that she’d remain alright. And being completely taken aback and offended when you’d refused to disclose patient information. There was a rift between them, so it seemed, not that anyone had been brave enough to talk about it aloud. The unspoken elephant in Jackson was the current  ongoing estrangement between the two. Something that, without knowing him beyond being his doctor, you could see hurt him worse than anything you could’ve ever treated him for. And there was Tommy, his brother, and his wife Maria – who it was also obvious he appreciated and cared for.
He was cordial and helpful and always willing to be a good neighbor to those in the community. But he was set apart. A man estranged in a way you could see was self imposed. You could recognize it for what it was, the same shroud of loneliness that blanketed you. And what was it they said about the experience of loneliness? It creates a vicious cycle that only further perpetuates itself the more alone you become. You start to reek of it the longer you enshroud yourself in it. Contagion spreads. But then one day, you’d seemed to distract him from maintaining that self imposed exile long enough to entice him into looking at you, even if for a second, really looking at you. 
It was like this: he’d never looked at you. Until he did.  And then it was like fire, like a natural disaster or disease, like cordyceps . Uncontrollable, and as hard as you both tried, or didn’t try, it could not be put away once it had been set upon. You’d circled and circled each other – blood in the water – him in reluctant silence, you almost desperately, until you’d come together in a clash of limbs and tongues and teeth, and then he was shoving you onto your desk in the small space of your examining room and then shoving, hard and savage into your cunt, and that was it. You’d given him as much as he was willing to take, and if he’d wanted to take more, you’d have given it willingly and gladly. It was not a question of how much you were willing to do, or how much of yourself you could part with. If in that instant he’d asked you to open your vein to him and let him drink you think you might have invited him to gorge himself. The way he’d moved in your cunt that day, hand wrapped around the column of your throat as he drew a thin helpless sound out of you – like he owned it already, like he’d always owned it, and it’d just taken him a second to come and claim what’d always rightfully been his. The way he’d brought his fist down, hard, on the desk beside you as he emptied himself inside your pulsing walls, growling the start of your name between clenched teeth before it turned into a guttural wordless snarl. You knew there was a part of him angry at you in that instant. Furious at how fucking good it felt to take him inside you, to finally give in, to ravage and take and fuck the way both of you had wanted to for so long.
You’d wanted him with a kind of anguish that frightened you for the fervor of it. Something you’d never experienced. There’d been others before, well, one other, but that now seemed laughably pale and tepid compared to this. A blight of inconsequential nothingness in your past, that had in no way prepared you for what you’d come to experience with Joel. This was something to cause terror if examined too closely. But he’d peered at you one afternoon, opened his arms to you and invited you in, and how were you ever supposed to resist sinking your teeth into his flesh? Ripping out a piece of him all for yourself.
He’d promised that’d be the only time. That it could only ever happen that once. You’d both taken the lie for what it was. You knew this couldn’t be stopped once it had been started. 
You’d always been a girl willing, glad, to do as you were told. To abide by the space allocated to you, to take what you’d been given with gratitude and accept your limitations. But loneliness makes monsters of even the best of us sometimes. And in a world now filled with monsters, it was easy to assimilate into one if given the opportunity, to let greed render you into what it may.
-
Joel watches your wonder at the sight of the little bird through the window, and he considers his own monstrousness. Your naked form is draped over his bed, tangled in his sheets, the loveliest thing he’s ever laid eyes on. The soft afternoon sunlight swirling along the planes of your skin, warm and buttery, and he accepts that he’s been deformed by his own brutality and violence. That he’s done a lot of truly heinous things in this life, but taking a little bird like you for himself, is perhaps the worst. The sparrow flits away and your eyes follow it– up, up, up. There’s a soft gleam in them, and his heart and gut twist at the sight of you moved by the sparrow. It’s been months of this, of the two of you tangled together. He hopes he never sees an end in sight, but at the same time, feels it pull at him. A vicious self sabotaging need to bring his fist down on this tenuous house of cards you’ve built together. Watch it smash into pieces. 
There’d been times where he’d look at an infected, right before killing it, and felt an understanding so poignant.
That is what I have become. 
He never needed to have been bitten to lose himself. To have been overtaken by something beyond his control. The viciousness of life had done it for him. Infected him all the same. 
He was better now. He could acknowledge that. Ellie, and all that came with her, had served as a balm to his ragged edges. Jackson and its people. Having Tommy back, and the family he’d built with Maria.  But he wasn’t naive. He’d known his day would be up eventually. His reckoning with Ellie would come, and it had. Nothing stayed buried forever, and eventually she’d discovered what he’d done. To keep her alive, to keep her for himself. 
Perhaps his greatest sin was always trying to keep the women he loved. Always a failure.
Sarah, Ellie. You. 
And now here he found himself again, on that same field in the middle of the night, surrounded by the end of the world, and clutching his whole life in the circle of his arms. Failing. Losing again and again.
Ellie had always been his reflection. A more hopeful, innocent mirror to all his cynicism and violence. But the same, nonetheless. 
But you. You were his opposite in every big way that mattered.
Good and soft and honest. Strong.
And yet, there could be violence within you, when you so desired it. You’d let him have a peek of it on occasion.
Like the sun that burned his eyes from their sockets. 
Violent, but necessary for survival. 
You’d dedicated yourself to saving lives and healing, for Christ’s sake. All Joel’d ever done was destroy and kill. Even what he and Ellie had was on the precipice of death now. 
And despite all of this. Despite everything he’d done to push you away. To hurt Ellie, no matter his intentions, he wanted. Savagely.
He wanted Ellie to understand why he’d done what he’d done. To forgive him. And even if she couldn't agree, then to just accept it. To set it away and let things be between them. To let it go . 
What a selfish fucking thought, Joel Miller.  
But he couldn’t help it; the goddamn world was over. Couldn't they just accept the bad things they’d done, or not done, and put it all away. And yet, at the same time, he could not hold it against her. Not even fault her. Because he knew her– he’d always known that the road would always inevitably lead them here. And still, he’d made the choices he’d made. In a way, he knew he deserved her ire. And so he bore it. Accepted it. Waited. But then– something new. You had come. 
And he wanted you.
With a violence he’d never felt in a life filled with little other than violence. He could sanctify you with the fervor of his wanting. If he wondered at your own desires, he’d ask if there wasn't ever something you’d wanted so bad it pushed you into the depths of selfishness. A selfishness that bordered on cruelty to the outside world, but you just could not help yourself. You just had to reach out and take. He wanted to be that thing for you, that thing that turned you cruel and selfish. 
And maybe that’s what this was, him taking you for himself; cruelty– like taking Ellie’s choices from her. But he couldn’t have helped it. He’d tried. God, he’d railed against this vicious want. But after the first time he’d touched you, tasted you, hell, the first time he’d fucking looked at you; all sense of choice had been taken from him. 
All that was left after that was what would happen. What was inevitable. The thread that connected them was deep and dark and red. Not to be ignored. 
The two circumstances were one in the same. And he couldn’t help but compare the present destruction of him and Ellie to what would become an inevitability between the two of you if he tried to be with you in any real way. Things always ended in one place for him. 
And he’d ripped out so much of himself to cure the pain of Sarah’s loss, he now felt he had nothing left to offer, and what little he did, had gone to Ellie. The feeling of inadequacy was suffocating. Of missing some essential part of himself. He didn’t know if he was capable anymore, of that, of giving himself to someone new. 
But he was afraid.
“C’mere, Birdie.” You crawl into his lap. 
“Birdie?” A sweet, shy laugh. There was something about you, so akin to that sparrow. So small and fragile, but with the enviable ability to fly away if necessary. Within yourself, within your heart. There was a space within you he found unreachable to him. And he hated it and envied it all at the same time. Raged at himself for even wanting it in the first place. Knew that it only existed as a form of self preservation, of protection, against him. And the sound of your voice – lilting like the song of that sparrow – it fucking haunted him, it haunted him, it haunted him. Maybe he was a little like that bird, as well. Hollow. 
Sometimes he just wanted you to hate him. To yell and scream and gnash your teeth and fucking demand something from him. Demand he let go of his cowardice and hesitations and fear. But he knew that very well of self preservation also allowed you to intellectualize his actions, parse together his motives and follow the thread to his root. Understand him in a way he shied away from. 
He existed in different spectrums of himself. Different shades of a past that all coalesced into this man he was now trying to be and remain. Which was, perhaps, the hardest part of it all. To maintain that semblance of a good man he was fighting his hardest to be. A good father. A good brother. Helpful to his community and neighbors. Open to the world. It was fucking hard. Falling into old habits, letting the past crest up like a wave and drown him, that was the easy route. Staying on the straight path was the true test. And he knew– he knew how much he had to hold on to now, and all the responsibility that came with that. To cultivate and maintain his relationships, his friendships. He was appreciated, respected in this place he’d made a home. He’d lived a long time without respect from anyone, the world – or himself. He wanted to hold on to that.
But he was also aware that there was something missing. Something he still wanted, and before he’d met you, he’d been unsure of what that was. But the feel of a woman beneath him, around him– someone to know him as a man, and not a father or a brother or a friend– yes, that was definitely missed. And then, not just any woman, but you, you, you. Your appearance in his world had changed things for him. A burst of blinding light, an inferno creeping in his veins, without preamble or warning – the intensity of it almost unendurable for its sudden unexpectedness. It was empirically impossible for one to turn away from a change of that magnitude. 
He thought of Tess sometimes. Her easy companionship. Her friendship. It was simple being with someone who never expected anything from you except to not get yourself killed. To stick to what was expected of you and not fuck up too badly you couldn’t keep your end of the bargain. But then… that wasn’t necessarily the truth of what they’d had either. Something still difficult for him to confess, even after all these years. And anyways, he was too old for that now. Shied away from getting into something like that again. A small curl of self consciousness making the appeal of it unsavory now. And this, between the two of you, he couldn’t codify it. Didn’t know what to make of it. Knew what he wanted of himself, of you. Knew what he would like to be able to give you and to take from you as well. Saying it out loud, confessing that, following through on it, was harder though. 
Birdie, Birdie, Birdie
You reach up to scratch gently through the underside of his chin. The soft, thick bristles catching beneath your nails. Just one more inevitable thing in a world full of inevitabilities. 
Sarah. Cordyceps. Ellie. Taking you for himself. His unwillingness to accept a thing, never made it any less true. Stubborn ass that he was, still after all this time, he could not kick the bad habit. 
You settle your plush bottom into his lap and weave your arms around his neck, his hands coming up to curve around the bend of your elbows, pull you in tighter, as if he could stitch you to his very skin with the intensity of his wanting. 
“You’re like a little bird,” he nuzzles the soft space behind your ear, sucks on the edge of your jaw, breathes you in. “My Birdie.” The soft sound you make goes straight to his hard cock and you spread your legs wider across his lap, grind yourself down onto him.
-
You bask in his attention, mind hazy and floating. You’re drunk on his touch, his scent, the sound of his voice, and you feel like you need to give him something. Give him some more tangible piece of yourself. Something you wish he could put in his pocket, tuck in his memory, carry with him always like a small, smooth stone, the weight of it knocking gently against his thigh as he moved about the world. You slink down the bed, settle yourself between his strong legs.
His middle is soft and thick, and you press a kiss to the swell beneath his belly button, further down to nuzzle into the soft thatch of hair around his cock. You breathe in the heady musk of him, and he’s restless, verging on aggressive beneath you — his control held on by the grace of a snapping thread. You take him in hand, show him you’re merciful, and give the hard thick length of him a slow tug. His size is obscene, held in your small hand, you can barely get your fingers around his girth; it makes you cunt clench and weep jealously. You gaze up at him, and the look in his eyes is feral, teeth bared in a gleaming snarl at you. You often think that he unmoors you, but in this moment, you have the power to unmake him. 
You press small kisses to his thigh, the jut of his hip bone, nuzzle your nose at the soft skin there. And then finally, you offer him your tongue, tap the broad, dark red head of him once, twice, and then soft little kitten licks, across the crown, down his shaft. Not yet ready to give him the reprieve of your hot suctioning mouth. You lift yourself up on your arms to hang your head over his erection then, letting salvia pool on your tongue you let it dribble down in a long obscene thread onto his waiting cock, slide down. “ Fuck – fuck, fuck,” he growls then, savage: “Fucking swallow it or come up here, and give me that cunt. No more teasing, Birdie.”
You bend back down to tongue the slit and he hisses, snaps his teeth together; he’s harder than a fucking rock. You start to jack him slow and tight in long pulls, from the very base, up, up to twist your fist around the weeping head, pressing soft kisses to the tops of his thighs. And then finally, finally you wrap your puckered mouth around him and start to suck, hollowing your cheeks and laving your tongue all around the thick girth. It’s sloppy and so wet, your saliva dribbling down to slide over his balls and into his hair. Messy little girl . He grips the back of your head, fingers fisting in your hair. You look up at him in permission, and he starts to fuck your mouth in earnest. The muscles in your throat tightening around his head with every thrust. “Shit, shit, that’s good.” He lets his head fall back, and you take in the strong column of his throat. You can feel your pussy leaking onto the sheets beneath you at the sight of him and you squirm, rubbing your thighs together to relieve some of the ache. He’s so fucking hot. And you want him so badly, always. 
He feels your desperate squirming between his thighs, “Play with that little cunt, baby. I know it hurts.” You moan in response, suck him deeper, swallow around him as you slide your hand under your belly, down between your thighs and play with the wet mess there. You cup yourself and start to rock your hips, you know he’s watching your movements, the rise of your ass, letting the heel of your hand grind against your throbbing clit and then slide down to your entrance, dip your middle finger in to penetrate you there, gentle and shallow. You pick up the pace of your grinding, everything is so slick and wet, and your mouth opens on a shallow gasp, his throbbing length slipping out of your mouth and falling wet and heavy onto his belly. The two of you watch each other as you fuck your hand slowly, and then he’s rolling you over with the strength of his thighs, quick as a viper, as he manhandles you to his liking. He’s sliding on top of you, and then he’s got you on all fours, face pressed down into the pillows and ass up, up in the air, pulling on your hips and spreading you wide for his eyes to feast on. You feel his big hands grip your ass cheeks and pull you apart, your pussy wet and aching, you’re sure he can see your hole clench desperately. He bends to give your flesh a sharp, painful nip and you keen in response, his tongue soothing over it after. 
“Please, Joel – please.”
“What do you need, baby? Hmm?” he croons. “You need my cock to fuck this little pussy?”
“Please–” you cry, a mess of tears and spit covering your face. 
He runs a gentle knuckle over your soaked, puffy lips. “So red… so needy… Say it, wanna hear it.” He gives you his thumb, catching just over the edge of your opening, your mewl is high and whining.
“ Please, please, please–”
“ Tell me, Birdie.”
Hitching breath, he pulls out his thumb, swipes over your clit, just barely. “Please, fuck my pussy.”
And then his hand is gone and he’s giving you the whole unrelenting length of him in one quick thrust, and he’s fucking huge and harder than stone. Pressing up against your cervix until it hurts and holding there, and you want more, more, more. It feels so fucking good and you’re so wet – dripping down your thighs, you can feel it pooling in the crevices behind your knees, mingling with the collected sweat there. It’s lewd. Your walls clamp down on him, tight as a fist, and he lets out a snarl: “Don’t move.” A shudder wracks through him and you can feel him throbbing inside you, holding him heavy and hard in the deepest part of your cunt. You mewl, high and desperate, “Don’t move, don’t make a sound—” You can’t help the whimpers, he pulls them out of you forcibly.
“ Fuck–” and then he’s ramming into you relentlessly, over and over, kissing your womb on each thrust, and you see stars behind your eyes. His hands hold you open to watch where he impales you. “Prettiest little pussy, fuckin’ perfect and tight, Birdie” he says through gritted teeth. He pulls out suddenly, bends to swipe a long wet lick from your clit to your asshole. Oh, he’s filthy. You can only moan in response, flushing red and hot from the crown of your head to the tips of your toes. Your breasts are heavy and aching, the tips furled into tight points. And then he’s fucking back into you. “Gonna fuck it full of my come, baby. You want that? Want me to stuff you full, pretty girl?”
“Yes– please, please. I need it–” His hand slides up the length of your back to curve over your shoulder, pulling you back onto his impaling cock harder. His balls slap sharp and wet against your clit, and then you’re coming around him, something so deep and sensitive inside being rutted against unrelentingly. Your cunt pulls tight, almost painful, a hot little furl around him, milking his own orgasm out of him. He groans deep in his chest, torso folding over your back pressing you deeper into the mattress, and you can feel the heavy throb and jerk of his cock spitting inside of you. The fist in your hair jerks your head to the side and he swallows your pleas, tongue licking deep into your mouth. “Good– good girl,” kisses the tip of your nose, your brow. 
-
“Little bird… s’soft” he whispers later. “ Who’s gunna look after these fragile wings that dream so big and want to fly so high?” The tips of his fingers ghost up and down the length of your spine, over the fine wings of your shoulder blades. His skin is rough, his trigger finger thickly calloused, and each pass makes you shiver. 
“Can’t you?”
“Don’t think so,” he mouths at the tender nook behind your ear, along your hairline, “Ain’t got it in me. Not gentle enough, don’t think.” But how could that be true when no one in all your life, in all the world, had ever touched you as softly as he was now?
“My Birdie,” he murmurs, and he’s still semi hard inside of your sore, stretched out cunt. Leaking out of you. Messy. The both of you had stopped being careful a while ago. Stopped caring, really. And you know it’s an unspoken point of resentment in him, the fact that he can’t control himself. That he feels an instinct to fill you and mark you. To make you his in the most primal way he can. The fact that he can’t pull away from you, in this most precarious of moments, despite all the other ways he can, it chafes . The both of you look away from it, like so many other things between you – turn your faces away. Unwilling to stop, and do the right thing. Unwilling to consider the possible consequences. 
Sometimes you wonder if the thought of those consequences appeal to him. Appeal as a form of subjugation. If that were to happen then he’d be forced to stop forcing himself to push you away. He’d be able to keep you the way you know he really wants to. 
It is a delirious and precarious situation, the business of believing in something that’s constantly denied to you. 
You wrap your hand around his thick wrist and bring it to your nose, breathe him in deep, press a kiss to the tender skin over the blue hued spidering of his veins. His heady scent of soap and sweat and musk, all mingled with your own scent on his skin. It makes you clench tight around him and he groans deep and wanton in his chest, grinds his hips further into you from behind. 
“You know what I think you’re missing?” he murmurs into the sensitive shell of your ear– your messy hair moved by his breath. “Besides more of my cum–” He laughs – and oh, he thinks he’s so damn funny– another thrust, sharper now. Regaining strength. He grasps the inside of your thigh and pulls you open, hooks your leg back and over his hip. Moaning low, you say, “What’s that?” You wind your hand up and back to clutch his hair while he starts to fuck you slow and deep. You want all your conversations for the rest of time to be just like this, whispered into each other’s ears always. 
His other hand slides down your belly, to slot his fingers over the place where he fits inside you, feeling the tight stretch of it. He cups you there and anchors you to roll your hips more deeply on to his hardening erection, the mound of his palm grinding into your oversensitized clit. This sort of stamina’s not normal for an old man, you want to tease. But then he says: “Some selfishness,” a little bit like a question. A little bit like an admonishment too. And you pause, he’s serious and it makes you afraid that it’s also posed like a warning, just for a second. “Be selfish, Birdie. Be selfish for me, just a little bit.” For me, he says, and it appeases you, comforts you. You think you may agree. 
“Who says I’m not already?”
Chapter II
Netherfeildren Masterlist
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britany1997 · 11 months
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Ties That Bind
Part One
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Yandere Anakin Skywalker x Fem Jedi Reader
Surprise y’all! I’m so incredibly excited to share part one of this collab fic with @6lostgirl6 !!!! Sixx and I put equal work into this so please go and show her some love! I loved working with my bestie on this it was so fun and she’s so kind and encouraging❤️
Warnings: general yandere behavior, mentions of deaths
Dividers from @6lostgirl6
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Sweat pooled around Anakin as he sprang forward in bed, gasping in a haze of fear and anger. His head fell to his hands as he struggled to catch his breath.
Sleep had eluded him for months as every night ended the same, with visions of your corpse flashing through his tortured mind. 
Anakin discarded his blanket in frustration, grabbed your picture from his work bench, and sat on the floor to meditate. 
His brow furrowed as he attempted to squash his rage and uncertainty, to let them go and let the force fill him with the comfort he needed. 
But to let go of his emotion, would be to let go of you.
Though he mumbled to himself, ‘there is no emotion, there is peace, there is no passion, there is serenity,’ he couldn’t make himself believe that. You were his peace, you were his serenity.
He abandoned his meditation in a huff. Anakin liked to think he was a patient man, a good Jedi. Yet how could he sit back and do nothing? The visions would never stop, it was time to take matters into his own hands.
Despite his failures at meditating and stopping his mind from whirling, he was struck by a solution. He was deep in concentration, staring at the ground, your picture nestled against his uncovered chest.
The visions would undoubtedly stop if he could protect you and keep you safe from harm. What if the force hadn't been working against him after all? He was immediately filled with purpose, a fire in his eyes that couldn't ever be extinguished. He will defend you even if it means doing the unthinkable and abandoning the Jedi code. 
What other reason would there be besides protecting the one you loved the most, even if it required being selfish? Absolutely nothing was of greater significance than you, his long-time friend, whom he had been pining over for many years. The forbidden feelings he could no longer ignore. There was no greater reason, no other reason, than you. 
It was all for love. 
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Despite the summons from the Chancellor, Anakin thought the Galaxies Opera House was well worth the journey through Coruscant. Though the visions of your impending death haunted him, Squid Lake, a strange ballet performed by a team of Mon Calamari acrobats, calmed his worries and enabled his mind to focus on something far more pleasant. He wished he could take you to one as lovers rather than as companions one day once you are away from harm. The Chancellor, however, required his attention once more.
His eyes were focused ahead as he said, "The Sith and the Jedi are similar in almost every way, including their quest for greater power." The Chancellor’s face bore a deep and serious expression.
“The Sith rely on their passion for their strength; they think inwards, only about themselves.” Anakin answered back firmly, turning his head towards him as he spoke.
“And the Jedi don’t?” asked the Chancellor, turning his attention towards Anakin without wavering, his eyes never leaving his face.
“The Jedi are selfless, they only care about others.” Anakin spoke strongly, turning his attention forward, just before the Chancellor continued to speak, making Anakin's blood run cold.
“Although they prevent you from loving freely in accordance with your own desires. They would never approve of your love for your friend or the things you would do for her.” He spoke with a voice filled with stomach-churning truth. “Your companion, (Y/N).”
Anakin turned to face the older man, his eyes wide with surprise as he whispered quietly. "How did you know-"
"I know many things, Anakin." He responded. "You say they are selfless and care about others. But what would the council say if they learned of your hidden desires, your affection that you have for your fellow Jedi?" 
For once, Anakin couldn't speak because the Chancellor's words struck him deeply. His eyes were fixed on the opera playing ahead of him as he slowly sunk into his chair. He wasn't watching the event, though; instead, he was fixated on his thoughts, his visions of your approaching demise, and the possibility that the council would learn of his feelings for you. They'd shun him. He couldn't save you if they were in the way. His heart was pounding, and his mind was racing. 
It was the Chancellor's voice that silenced his racing thoughts. 
“You ever hear the tragedy of Darth Plagueis the wise?” 
No, he would not let them stop him from loving you, from saving you.
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Your saber clashed against Anakin’s as you traded swipes back and forth. He smirked as you narrowly missed his shoulder. You stuck out your tongue in reply.
It’d probably be easier to spar with someone else, you and Anakin had trained together as Padawans, practically grown up together. He knew every move you’d make before you could even think to make it. But, unfortunately for him, you could anticipate his every move as well.
You leaped as he swiped his saber at your feet, “missed again Ani,” you teased. You noticed a strange expression cross his face when you uttered his name, but it quickly vanished.
“You’re lucky today,” he smirked, “but luck runs out.” Anakin swiped his foot behind yours, causing you to tumble onto your back, he stood over you, lightsaber pointed towards your chest. 
You groaned, “fine, I yield.”
He chuckled as he switched his weapon off and offered you his arm to pull you to your feet. “Better luck next time?” he teased. 
“Ha ha,” you mumbled humorlessly, as you allowed him to pull you up.
"Let's not pretend you didn't cheat, Ani." You continued jokingly. You leaned over to grab your fallen lightsaber when you failed to notice the unknown expression resurfacing on his face. However, it did not completely disappear, his darkening eyes fixated on your body, images racing through his mind of scenarios unsuitable for a Jedi.
He adored it when you addressed him as such. 
His expression returned to normal as you straightened up, and he had a mischievous smile on his face once again. "Never, ever underestimate your opponent." He chuckled as he extinguished his lightsaber and attached the hilt to his belt.
“Yeah, Yeah.” You replied, the smile refusing to vanish from your expression. 
"Come now; I only tease." Anakin remarked softly, staring at you with a more genuine smile, one that could compete with the sun if he so desired. Since you were both padawans, he has consistently been an enchanting man. He had a way of charming himself out of most trouble and making one's heart feel like it was going to burst.
This was a secret you kept hidden within your heart for many years, the sentiments you had for Anakin that were more than just friendship. However, according to the Jedi code and attachment regulations, you did everything you could to drive those emotions away. Your feelings got less difficult to disguise as you practiced meditation and late-night self-reflection. In addition, you knew in your core that Anakin was an exceptionally gifted Jedi and that your affections for him were never going to be reciprocated. 
“Everything alright?” 
You recovered from your subconscious, glancing at Anakin as he stood directly in front of you, his eyebrows furrowed in slight concern. 
"Yes, I'm sorry." You replied before reactivating your lightsaber, your eyes bright with purpose and your smile returning. "Let's continue."
After many long hours of trading blows, you and Anakin were huffing, your foreheads drenched with sweat. 
“Call it a night?” you asked as Anakin wiped his brow clean. 
“Mhmm,” he hummed in reply, “it’s late, want an escort back to your quarters?”
You laughed. He didn’t. 
“No Ani it’s fine,” you promised, “I think I can manage the couple of steps it takes to get there.”
“It’s on my way anyway,” he protested.
You shot him a confused expression, “on your way to where?” 
“To the archives,” he told you nonchalantly, “I needed to look into something.”
Your brow furrowed, “look into what?”
He groaned, tugging gently at your arm, “just let me escort you.”
“Fine, fine,” you reluctantly caved.
He offered you his shoulder, a smirk painted on his face. You scoffed and punched his arm instead, causing a soft laugh to fall from his lips. 
He smiled and shook his head at your stubbornness, you never made anything easy. But it didn’t matter, he’d never been one to back down from a challenge.
The walk to your quarters passed quickly as you exchanged stories with Anakin. You clutched your stomach as tears rolled down your cheeks as he told you the story of his last battle with General Grevious. Anakin had spent so much time with Obi Wan over the years, Anakin’s impression of his sarcastic banter was spot on.
“Well this is me,” you joked, gesturing to your door. Anakin nodded but didn’t move to head towards the archives. 
Your brow furrowed in confusion, “…so I’ll see you tomorrow?” 
He seemed to snap from his momentary trance, “yes of course,” Anakin hesitated, “do you need anything else before I go?”
Your head cocked to one side, “no, not really.” 
Walking you to your room had been strange in itself, this was ridiculous. “Ani…” you bit your lip, “are you ok?”
Anakin seemed taken aback by your sudden question, “of course,” he composed himself, “I better be off to the archives, I’ll see you for training in the morning.”
You watched him walk off before slipping into your room. You sat down to meditate, but you couldn’t rid your mind of Anakin’s weird behavior. Something wasn’t right. 
You sighed, coming to terms with the fact that you would not be one with the force tonight and crawling into bed. As you drifted to sleep a thought popped into your head.
Weren’t the archives in the opposite direction?
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Anakin sent a glass flying into his wall in frustration. He watched as it shattered, spraying shards onto the floor around his work desk. 
He threw his head into his hands. He could monopolize your training time, walk you to your quarters every night, wake up early to be at your door every morning.
But it would only take one second, one second where he left you alone, one second where he wasn’t right by your side, one second and you were gone forever. 
If he balled his fists any harder, his fingernails would slice the skin. He knew what he had to do. You might hate him for a moment, but he could live with that.
But if you died? There was no living if not with you.
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The Jedi Temple was destroyed.
Your fellow Jedi were slaughtered in cold blood. 
You could feel your heart frantically beating as you rushed through the halls of pure massacre, the walls forever tarnished by the horrors that had been committed. Fellow Jedi that you’ve trained with are lying on the floor lifeless, and some are in cauterized pieces. You felt like you could throw up at any moment, the hilt of your lightsaber held in your shaky grasp. You were in a state of delirium; your thoughts were filled with dueling lightsabers and people screaming in fear. However, there was one thing that was absolutely certain.
You needed to find Anakin.
‘Please, let him be safe.’ You thought to yourself as you managed to turn a corner, your other hand gripping your ribcage, your heart threatening to explode. ‘By the force, please protect him.’ 
You were anxious to find him, yet filled with dread. Your mind was racing with images of his form in pieces, his eyes lifeless without any warmth. It almost made the journey too much to bear. 
You rounded another corner that led towards the entrance of one of the temple’s many great halls. As you pushed through the entrance, a heavy feeling filled your chest, and you were completely unable to go any further. Your eyes were wide, and you could feel your breath failing you. 
As you gazed into the distance, you noticed a familiar figure, clad in a brown robe with a hood covering his face, that you had never failed to recognize, even at a distance. As the figure walked towards you, a large group of clone soldiers followed behind him, weapons drawn. In his hand was his own lightsaber, which he clutched tightly in his grasp.
Anakin.
"Ani!” You cried, disengaging your lightsaber and rushing towards him with tears in your eyes, prepared and ready to meet him with a sense of relief. 
You threw your arms around him, tears rolling down your face as you sobbed. He returned your embrace, arms wrapping around the small of your back, pulling you into his chest.
“Ani,” you muttered between sobs, “I’m so glad you’re ok, I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”
He tightened his grip on your waist, holding you close, “I know what you mean…”
You sniffled as you tried to gather yourself, “Anakin, so many lives…” you hiccuped, “what happened.”
“Only what needed to.”
“What?” you exclaimed as you looked up to meet his eyes. 
The sight of his blood stained face made you gasp. No. This wasn’t the Anakin you knew. This couldn’t be happening.
But it was. The man you’d carried a torch for all these years, your best friend and confidant, stood before you, clothed in the blood of your friends.
You pushed against his chest, trying to escape from his grasp but he refused to let you go. He held you tightly against him with one arm, using his other hand to brush hair from your face affectionately. A gesture that once would have made you blush now filled you with malice.
“I know you don’t understand now, but you will my love,” he whispered, “now sleep.”
“Anakin…no…” you fought a losing battle to keep your eyes open. You were strong in the force, but Anakin was stronger.
Your head lulled to the side as you fell asleep in his arms.
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333creolelady · 3 months
Text
Lady Of The Blue Bakunawa Ch.4
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Black Afab!OC x Roman Reigns (pirate au)
Banner by @joannasteez
Chapter Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Murder, Violence, Gore, explicit language. Minors DNI.
Songs this chapter: love remembered, the hunt builds, I love you. And
Alternative playlist songs: Unthinkable, Slow Burn, Why knock for you, Paper thin.
Story playlist link here <-
Alternative playlist link <-
Next -> chapter 5
<- Back to Masterlist
All reblogs will receive a sneak peak to next weeks chapter
Jane
Calloused fingers rubbed circles into the tops of her soft hands. His scent filled the library and mixed with the smell of the old books she adored. A single candle light flickered and danced along the walls of the room. Ironically those flickers seemed to illustrate the butterflies in her stomach. Still, even in the poor light she could see every feature on his face.
Her head is swimming. They drank so much wine tonight but she didn’t regret her decision. This was their new routine. During the day she barely saw him and when she did they were only glimpses. She’d usually spend her day reading in her cabin or with Caden for a few minutes. However, she could surely hear Roman with all his yelling. He was always near… commanding something from his crew. When the night came she’d sneak off to the library for dinner. Most of the time she was the first to arrive but dinner would be waiting for her with two plates and a bottle of wine.
She’d smooth out her dress and place her hair just right over her shoulder. He’d come in, ducking just under the door frame and locking the door behind him. She’d stand to greet him and he’d rest his hat against his chest before sitting down. His voice was always raspy at the end of the day from all his yelling. It was gruff and gravely but when he’d greet her at the end of each day, he would try his best to smooth out his jagged edges. The last thing he wanted was any part of himself to be abrasive towards her and she was thankful for it.
They’d usually eat in silence and then save the wine for last. He’d pour her a cup and she’d take it gladly. Then after the first glass the conversation would start flowing. He’d ask her about her day and she’d ask him about his. She’d pull items from his clothes like feathered pins and swords and he’d tell her about how he obtained each one. She’d try on his hat and would proudly let her wear it for the duration of their evening. She’d ask him bolder questions like if he’s ever killed and how long it had last been since he’d fancied a lady. He answered each question honestly.
As the night grew darker their proximity became closer. His collar loosened and his jacket came off. She followed suit, kicking off her shoes and untying her hair. Then somehow they’d inch closer and closer to one another until the sides of their thighs were touching.
He’d find any excuse he could to touch her. Be it swiping an eyelash from her cheek or reaching across her for a book. Then one evening she looked down to see their pinkies were practically brushing against one another. She slid her hand into his palm and he sighed as if he’d been waiting for her to do it. They chuckled at the exchange and he held it tighter.
In early stages of their meetings he had requests. He wanted her to wear the dresses he bought her. She would oblige him. Little by little his requests got more specific. One particular evening he was so close she could smell his hair soap. He was in the middle of telling a silly story from his childhood. He stopped abruptly and that alerted her to look in his direction. He was already staring intently at her. Her hand rested in his and he wrapped his arm around her waist pulling her directly beside him, the side of their knees touched. He leaned into her ear, his mouth was so close she swore that for a moment they brushed against the fold of her flesh.
“ Tomorrow night I want to see you in the blue dress with the jewelry I bought for you. Do you think you can do that for me Dove ?”, he whispers quietly to her. He’s holding her wrist in the most domineering and dizzying fashion. She has to stop her eyes from rolling into the back of her head from the heat of his breath brushing against her neck. It takes her a moment to gather herself.
“ Y-yes…of course”, she gasps. She bites her lip to hide the whimper begging to bleed from her.
He pulled away and leaned back into his seat, sliding his hand back into her palm. She grabbed her wine glass and chugged the rest of what was in her cup before sitting back as well. A shaky breath left her lips. He went back to telling his story as if nothing happened. Her head swirled in desire.
That was two weeks ago and now he’s put in special requests every meeting. Something about it felt almost intimate and even slightly provocative. The crew knew where she was headed when they saw her leave her cabin every night. She started to wonder if that was the satisfaction Roman got from it.
She cherished these late nights with Roman. As timid as she was.. she could let loose. They spoke whatever came to mind and most times it was about nonsensical things. When the wine was right he’d bring out his clay pipe and fill it with tobacco. She didn’t mind the smoke or the smell. It relaxed her and the fog of the room seemed to sink into her skin and warm up her bones.
“ Can I try it?”, she asks. He raises a brow at her and huffs out a hefty chuckle. The smoke came out of his nose like a bull and she found that comical. He takes the pipe from between his lips and carefully places it into her mouth. “ Deep breaths. It’s going to feel warm inside and you may cough.”
She followed as instructed. The sensation felt a bit alarming at first but then it dissipated. She coughed maybe twice but went back for another hit which earned her another chuckle from Roman.
“ Do I look as mysterious and dangerous as you when I do it captain ?,” She teased blowing the smoke away from him.
“ Not in the slightest. It’s like seeing a kitten holding a pocket knife”, he chuckled taking the pipe from her and wrapping his lips around it despite it being in her mouth moments before. After a few puffs of smoke she swears she can see his tongue dart out quickly to lip his lips as if he was savoring the taste of her mouth on it. She looked away as a funny feeling manifested in her gut, causing flips and butterflies. She gained her might momentarily.
“ I’m not sure if I should take that as a compliment. Either I’m very adorable or very weak in your eyes”, she laughed.
Romans smile drops a bit as he blows out another gust of smoke. “ Never weak….never”.
Jane smiles at that and pats his knee before leaning forward to refill her wine glass again. He fills it for her. She concluded that smoking wasn’t her fortay but she had no problem inhaling whatever seeped from his mouth. Deep in her mind she might have thought of it as a kiss. Inhaling his exhale….provocative.
It was getting hot but Jane didn’t want to leave. In fact, if she were to melt into the couch she was sitting on she’d probably let it happen.
“ You know it’s said that drinks such of these contain spirits. Spirits that take over your soul for a time when you ingest them.”
Jane took another swig before giggling. She plucked an ice cube from the icebox and sucked on it to cool her heated frame. The smoke was getting heavier by the minute and she could see it whirl around her skin and pass over the candle light. It seemed to almost becon her closer to him.“ Hm. Sounds believable to me. Consider me possessed by the spirit of libation and sloth”.
Roman grinned lazily and leaned back into his seat finishing his pipe before placing it down on the table. Even he was a bit light headed. “ Are you in need of an exorcism, M'lady?”
“ No. but I do suffer from hysteria from time to time.”
“ The treatment would be an orgasm not an exorcism but very close”, Roman snorted. Jane followed suit in a laugh that shot out in bursts. Her eyes lulled to the ceiling to look at the intricate carvings.
Before she knew it another piece of ice had found her lips but this time it lingered. Her eyes closed in relief.
“ You’re warm.”
“ Ay’ ay’ Captain”, she nearly slurred as the cube melted against her heated skin. She could hear a smile on his lips.
“ Ready for bed?” He asked as he slid the piece of ice down her jaw and onto her neck.
“ No I don’t believe so”, she stifled a moan but instead it just spilled out. She stirred as the cold smooth texture slid over to the side of her neck and then the front.
“ Ugh what is this …feeling in my head”, she pressed the back of her hand to her forehead.
“ It’s called being drunk darling”, Roman chuckled bringing the piece back to her jaw.
“ Oh stop… you’ll drive me mad .” Jane sighed lazily, swatting at his hand. He took the now small cube and placed it in his mouth to melt. Jane watched his mouth through hooded eyes and she sat up straight once more seemingly sobering up.
“ Back to life ?” Roman asked handing her a cup of water instead. She took a sip then set it down on the coffee table.
“ Nearly ”, she grinned, reaching for a fresh berry to occupy her mouth.
“Since you’ll be staying with us do you think you’ll be ready to introduce yourself to the crew ? There is no rush but it might make your time here less rigid”.
Jane pauses. “ I suppose..”.
“ I want you to be comfortable here. I want you to be able to move around the ship with ease. You don’t need me or Caden around to do what you want to do. Once you meet some of my crew you’ll understand that you have nothing to be afraid of. Other pirates…not so much”, he chuckled.
Jane thought hard for a moment. Perhaps it really was time for her to warm up. Caden and Roman were the only two men on the ship who really knew her. She didn’t even talk to Earl much. If this would be her home for the time being then she should make it into one. She tilts her head in thought,“ Tomorrow at dinner then?”
Roman smiled, “tomorrow at dinner”, he confirmed witn a nod.
“ I have some conditions too”, said Jane lazily.
“ Let’s hear it”, he leans forward.
“ I want to help out. It hurts me seeing Caden take on so much on his own. I want to help him with some of his tasks. I can pick up some slack in the kitchen too. I want to be of use. Something to take my mind off of everything sometimes.”
Roman raised a brow, “ You are of use, you keep me company and you look beautiful while doing it”
“ You know what I meant Roman”, she groaned.
“ Caden is earning his keep. He’s also in training to become a pirate but first comes humility. It’s the natural order of this profession… if you can call it that.”
“ Please..”, a slight pout to her voice. She already won him over but she didn’t know that.
“ Alright fine… but it will not impede our evenings.”
“ No it won’t.”
“ And you will still take my requests?”
“ Yes.”
“ And if I buy you something you will not complain?”
“ I will not.”
He returns to his clay pipe. “ settled”, says Roman.
Jane huffs out a sigh of relief and sits back with him. She notices just how shiny his hair is, reaching just past his pectorals. She reached out to grab a strand of his tousled locks in between her fingers. She then took her hand and ran her fingers through his thick strands. He suddenly stiffened for a moment and she pulled her hand from him like his hair was made of fire.
“ I’m so sorry—I had too much wine. I don’t know why I did that, I know what it’s like to—”, she scolded herself, putting her hand against her forehead, noticing the heat in the room. She goes to stand but Roman takes her hand into his, pulling her back down softly. He continues to pull her closer once again, closing the space between them. The two stare at each other's mouths for what feels like eternity. She barely notices how their noses were nearly touching. Just the slightest nudge and she’d know what his mouth tasted like. Smoke and alcohol she bets. Somehow that entices her more. His finger draws lazy shapes against her wrist.
“ If I were to kiss you without your permission would it unravel everything I said on the dock ?” He whispers softly. His voice is strained like he was tugging against the confinement of his seat.
Jane audibly swallows, “not quite but I would be furious with you”, she whispers back in an equally starved tone.
“ Why do I not believe you Miss Ramlal ?”
Jane fails to answer but instead lets out a shaky trembling breath. Since when has this room gotten even smaller ?
“ I am a man of my word. Though I must warn you that my hair is a weakness of mine …”, the tip of Romans nose pressed against the side of her face. Jane’s eyes closed and so do her thighs.
“ It’s why I tie it up in battle. It’s the first thing people go for. Nevertheless, I’m not really used to people touching it. It’s very …sensitive…you see ?”, His nose trails towards her ear that was covered by her hair.
“ Now you know my weakness…”, his voice is strained and tight as he nudges his nose under her jaw. He pauses for a moment watching the way her chest heavily rises and falls from his proximity. He takes the hair covering her neck and lightly pushes it behind her shoulder exposing warm naked skin smelling of fresh vanilla. Jane stiffens knowing where he’s going but she doesn’t seem to want to protest. Then… the lightest touch of his mouth and nose grazes the hot flesh that connects her shoulder and neck.
A large whimper swallowed by a gasp slips from her mouth and she jumps causing her foot to kick the coffee table.“ And it seems I’ve found yours”, he chuckled into her skin. She pulls away cursing when she notices her wine dripping onto the floor. She jumps to soak it up with napkins.
“ No let me”, Roman pulls more napkins from the table and Jane stands behind him watching his back flex as he cleans up the mess. Her heart was still pounding and that pounding spread all over her entire body. She’d only felt this way a handful of times in the privacy of her bed. For a long while she didn’t even try to relieve herself because she shared a room with other people. Now that same feeling was sinking into her gut and swirling deep inside of a place she’d usually ignore.
“ I—It’s best I get to bed”, she muttered. Her high was blown and suddenly she was sober. What replaced her relaxation was jitter and something foreign…arousing.
He stood to his full height, “ Of course. It’s getting late anyway”. He grabs her hand and pressed his mouth to the back of it. He seems to come to his senses as she does, yet Jane notices that same hunger in his eyes. She looked away from the burn of his gaze leaving her body feeling singed and sensitive. She leaves with a quick bow scurrying back to her room.
Roman
There had been a major shift between Roman and Jane the moment she agreed to sail with him. Longing glances were shared and no longer avoided. When he looked her in the eye he said more than he’d ever express. The moment she uttered the word yes, he decided that she would be his somehow.
He paid off the remaining payments for the house and land; it could wait for his return. He refunded the livestock and tipped Alice for her troubles. She looked at the two knowingly—figuring that Roman wouldn’t have left her there with the way he gazed at her.
Then their nightly meetings started to happen and what could he call them? She was not his but yet they stood so close to a desire they both felt. He could lose himself in her eyes over candlelight dinner. When she spoke he lost track of time. And then the dresses—christ, the dresses. The ones where he could see every inch of her delicate neck. Every inch of her looked soft from her gaze, to her lips, to the skin behind her ear. He’d given up trying to hide the thoughts of his desire. What was this unspoken thing between them?
Roman woke with a slight headache after their dinner together last night. Liquid courage did him many favors with Jane. The scent of her bare skin put a spark in his step as he bathed off a sheen of sweat covering his body. The occasional night terror would grab him every now and then—usually about the moment he realized he was being stolen. Or perhaps it was the harshness of Katharina at the palace. His nightly routine with Jane usually eased the dreams. Not last night unfortunately.
He toweled off his wet hair and pulled it up and away from his face in a bun. Marching outside of his cabin he can see the sun is high and hot today. The wind is just right. “Give my order to hoist the sails”, Roman says to his Helmsman. He heads to the kitchen and there he sees his Jane in the same pirate wear she used to wear. She had a habit of trying to dull herself during the day, saving her beautiful clothes for their private evenings.
Caden is the first to notice him and pays him his respect. “ Morning captain”, the boy nods in acknowledgment working on a batch of eggs. The rest of the crew work quietly, nodding their respect to him. Roman returns the nods not really caring for the pleasantries as he watches Jane. She’s using a rolling pin against a thick wad of dough. She turns around and smiles softly at him. Her apron is covered in flour and so is her cute round button nose. He walks up to her and flicks it off softly. She touches it and wipes at it herself.
“ So I see you’ve already met the chefs. I presume you’re ready to meet the rest of the crew?”
Jane’s gaze flickered from the Roman to the dough in a flustered manner. “ Yes c—Roman. I’m making biscuits. I figured it would be a nice gesture since I’ve been avoiding them for so long. A way to break the ice.”
“ Oy’ Since when did SHE get to call you JUST Roman. You didn’t even allow me to call you that when I was like I don’t know…ELEVEN”, Caden teased the two of them while side eyeing the eggs to prevent their burning.
Roman chuckled, “Since I made the rules on this ship. Back to work ya’ scallywag”, he says with a head shake turning to Jane again. “Well you know the way to a man’s heart. I’m sure it will all be forgiven since I instructed them not to engage with you unless approached.”
Jane frowned, “Why?”
“ You were frightened enough as is. I wanted you to be comfortable.”
“ You are mos— “
“ Oh don’t say it. You’ll ruin my reputation”, Roman grimaces playfully. Jane giggled at that and returned to her biscuits.
He can see his two lead chefs eyeing him with intrigue. They’d never seen him this way before. Roman was good to his men but he wasn’t smiley—maybe with Caden who he cared deeply for. Outside of his close mentorship with Caden, they often got a quiet authoritative figure. Sometimes he was loud or grumpy but they weren’t terrified of him. He prided himself on being a Captain who weighed the opinions of others—it kept his crew loyal and saved his ass many times. As he heads into the dining hall the room is bustling with banter. A sense of order had to be restored lest Jane became overwhelmed.
“ Quiet”, Roman commands. The room quiets to a whisper. He stands at the front of the room eyeing each of his men.
“ Lady Jane is going to serve breakfast. May you present her with the same respect you give me . Introduce yourselves to her. She’s going to be joining us for the duration of our journey so consider her part of the crew. Be kind or walk the plank—no better yet. Disrespect her or become a maroon. Ay?”
“ Ay Cap’n” the crew said in unison.
Jane
Jane enters the room rolling a cart filled with plates loaded with scrapple, biscuits, pan fried potatoes and roasted tomatoes. The men carefully line up in a single file to receive breakfast. The first man to approach her is peculiar in demeanor.
“Hello M’lady—names Thomas”
“ Nice to meet you Thomas, I’m Jane. Would you like milk, orange juice or water ?”
“ You know people were convinced you were a S-siren?”
“ Pardon”, she raised a brow at him.
“ Oh yes. They said you were from the sea”. Thomas looks at Jane suspiciously. He has a very mousy look to him but he’s tall—at least 6’2. He’s only a few inches shorter than Roman who’s about 6ft5. He’s also pale with dark brown hair, big green eyes, a A long hooked nose, and dark circles. He looks as if he's been up for days. His clothes draped across his rail thin body like a clothing line. For a moment it worried Jane. She generously added more scrapple to his plate.
Jane smiled kindly at him hoping to ease his mind the best she could. “ I can assure you I’m no siren. Just ship wrecked. Besides there’s no such thing”, Jane chuckled, handing him his plate.
“ Oh trust me M’lady. They are very much real. They don’t need shiny long tails either. They shift their form. They could look just like you—pretty and normal. Human. Then they lure you to your icy watery grave”, he said with a warning. For a moment she questioned if he’d encountered one himself.
“ Well …I trust the captain will be able to navigate such a tragedy should it arise. Don’t stress yourself. Drink?”
“ Milk…M’lady”, his eyes nervously dart back to the food and Jane carefully places a glass in his hand. She takes her hand and places it on his shoulder reassuringly. He throws her a nod in departure and returns to his seat.
Another man approaches Jane, this one slightly shorter than Thomas. He has a swimmers build and he’s undoubtedly of South Asian descent. His hair is shoulder length with large puffy ringlets and he sports a full beard. There were many South Asian people in London, often herded in with the African and Caribbean people. If she had to guess, he probably worked for the British East India company at some point. East Asians were usually pitted against blacks by their superiors, which caused tensions between the groups at times. It was just another ploy to destroy any comradery amongst the disadvantaged. Jane relaxes when she sees him because he looks familiar. East Asians were no strangers to her homeland, often coming to work the sugar plantations in indentured servitude. A good amount of them had families with the locals. She could name a few cousins who looked like the man before her. If she thought about it too long it would make her miss her home.
“ London?”, He points to her.
She nods, “London”, she chuckles.
“ You had that look to ya.”
“ And that is ?”
“ Like it smells bad in here but you’ve smelt worse”, he smirks.
That earns a hardy chuckle from Jane because England was a smelly place. The very sound catches Roman’s attention at the end of the room. She has to cover her mouth to contain it.
He holds his hand out to shake hers. “ Adhar m’lady”.
She takes it willingly, “ Jane. Would you like milk, water or orange juice?”
“ Orange juice. And make it fast before the captain murders me. I’m already getting the death glare”, Adharjokes. Jane glanced over to the end of the room and sure enough Roman was STILL looking at the interaction. She would laugh at his expression if she didn’t think he was close to making Adhar walk the plank.
“ I’ll put in a good work for you. Here you go”, she handed him a tall glass of orange juice and he gratefully accepted his breakfast, turning away quickly to go sit down.
A man with a stocky build, eye patch, black hair, a bright blue eye, and a unibrow walked heavily up to the cart. He was around medium height.
“ William Wright at your service miss. If there’s anything I can do for you, just say the word?” He says in a heavy Russian accent.
“ Military ?” She asked.
“ Yes, what gave it away ?”, he smiled to reveal sharp white teeth. It almost looked like he had them filed on purpose.
“ The walk I suppose. Why did you leave ?”
“ I plucked out my generals eyeballs and fed them to him”, William picked up a tiny roasted tomato from the plate and plopped them in his mouth. She could hear the squelch as her eyes widened. He took the plate from her and picked up a glass of milk, walking away unaffected.
Next, a tall man with deep red hair, a round belly and a thick red mustache approached. He was had extremely larger muscles everywhere except his stomach.
“ Rory Hayes M’lady. Do you mind if I have a bit more scrapple and an extra biscuit…aaanddd another tomato? Actually, allow me miss”, he grabs the plate from her and doubles his portions. She notices a twinge of an Irish accent.
“ Jane. Take as much as you like”, she chuckled.
Rory bit into one of her biscuits and his eyes crossed as he sighed.
“ These biscuits— “
“ Go on ya’ Scrooge. We’re waiting ta’ eat!”, an old man snapped from behind him with no teeth.
“ Sorry sorry. Just making myself comfortable with the missus”, Rory sneaks another biscuit. Thankfully there’s plenty.
“ Misses ?”, Jane raised a brow.
“ Oh it’s just a joke. We call you the captain's wife—behind his back of course. He’s so busy drooling over ya’ he dun’t even realize what a lovesick puppy he is. Just light hearted fun.”
“ Juice water or milk ?” She smiled politely, stealing glances at Roman who hadn’t taken his eyes off her since Adhar.
Rory chuckled “Just water, I’m watching me figure”, he hisses out a raspy, smoky, larger than life laugh that causes him to turn red. It tickles Jane too as she laughs with him.
After serving breakfast she helped Caleb wash dishes and clean the kitchen. After their chores, her and the other chefs ate breakfast in the mess hall before ultimately having to clean that too.
“ Taking a 30 minute break Caleb. I’ll be in the— “
“ Miss Ramlal. Come with me ?” Roman appeared behind her. She threw a towel over her shoulder. She was covered in a light sheen of sweat.
“ Of course”, she smiled tiredly at him and followed him to his office.
She sits across from him at his desk. Since their nightly meetups, he’s been far more relaxed in her presence. Now that there’s been an obvious and reciprocated attraction, things were less tense.
“ So, who do I make walk the plank ?”
“ Everybody was perfectly fine”, she chuckled.
“ Adhar?”
“ He made me laugh. Another man isn’t allowed to tell me a joke now?”, she teased.
“ My answer would not please you so I’ll go with the more appropriate answer. I’ll maroon him instead”
“ Oh stop!”
“ He’s a ladies man”, he warned
“He’s from London like me. He cracked a joke. It was fine. Made me a little more comfortable. I’m not particularly fond of being surrounded by men. It’s very…unnerving sometimes.”
“ I’m sorry…”
“ It’s not your fault. I’m alive because of you. I can get over this. I just need time”, Jane nervously rubbed the back of her hand. Something he noticed she did when she was nervous. He at her hands and walks over to her, kneeling in front while her taking her hand into his own.
“ If I achieve nothing else I will protect you to the best of my abilities. You know this.”
She nodded quietly and smiled tightly at him. His hand rubbed the side of her cheek.
“ This is okay?”
“ Yes but just with you," she whispered quietly.
“ Just with me?,” he whispered back intimately. Something in his tone turned mushy and fragile. It struck something deep inside of her causing her stomach to flutter again.
“ Yes…. I don’t usually like being touched.”
Roman chuckles quietly,“ So I have tamed you in this way?”
Jane playfully rolled her eyes and kicked his leg lightly. He wheezed out a hearty chuckle.
“ Thankfully your crew did their best to make me feel at ease. Especially Rory. He’s…warm. That’s the best way I could describe him. Good energy about him.”
“ Oh yeah he’s a bit of a jester. Good man. He’s so nice you wouldn’t think that he’s an ogre in battle. I’ve seen him bite someone tongue out in interrogation. Not pretty.”
Jane blinked in shock. Another sobering reminder that every man on this ship could be dangerous if pushed to be. She swallowed down the doubt and moved on.
“ William is uh….”,Jane raised a brow not knowing how to describe him.
“ Intense…and a war criminal ”, Said Roman.
“ ….War….criminal ?”, she gulps.
“ Oh yes. He’s been my guard before. My assassin in a way. And an incredible painter, strangely enough.”
“ How charming”, Jane squinted sarcastically. That earned a laugh from Roman.
“ I don’t want you working past—
“ Roman…”
“Jaaaneee”, he mimicked.
“This is far better than my work back in London. Just let me have something to take my mind off of— “
“ What's bothering you?”
“ N-nothing.”
“ Tell me what’s wrong I’ll fix it.”
“ Everything is fineeee Roman. I’m okay. My life back in London and on that ship wasn’t pretty. It’s good to have a task to think about during the day. And by the time night time comes you inebriate me so badly I have no time to think about anything”, she joked. He grinned but the smile dropped quickly.
“ You know you can tell me more about yourself…you can talk to me. I’m amazing at keeping secrets.”
“ Oh… you look it ”, she teased.
Romans grinned at her playfulness. He leaned in, grabbing her head and pressed a kiss to her forehead. It stuns her but he does it like he’s done it a million times. There’s a strange intimacy between the two of them despite them only being friends. His undying need to take care of her puzzles her. Why does he feel so responsible for her if he has not claimed her ? He’s shown the effort of the husband yet had only known her for about a month.
Roman straightens his clothes and returns to his standing position. He holds out his hand to her and she takes it. He walks her to the door and they return to the positions they performed in front of the crew. Friendly but cordial…formal. Professional in a way.
She walks back to Caleb flustered.
“ Everything alright ?”
“ Of course. Let’s get the clothes hung up”, she smiles.
Weeks passed and Jane did not heed Roman’s warning. She wasn’t interested in Adhar romantically. Adhar’s flirting was actually just him being nice and light hearted. His goofiness helped with her dark thoughts at times which is why she liked being around him.
Adhar had offered to help her dry off the drinking glasses she’d just washed. The two of them talked about the weather and their plans for the week. It was just meaningless small talk. However, more interactions with the men on the ship bought fearful memories. The ship taking her to Jamestown was hell on earth. She’d barely slept in fear of someone attacking her in the night. The thought sobered her up and a silence fell between the two. Any of them could easily hurt her. Every man on this ship had the power to tear her apart if they wanted to. Adhar included. The thought left a shiver down her spine.
“ You alright ?,” Adhar pressed a hand to her back and she jumped back, bumping against the wooden interior of the ship. His breath hitched in confusion.
“ S-sorry. I’ve always been quick to startle. I wanted to ask you something.”
“ Sure, what is it ?”
“Do you know how to fight?”
“….fight…? I mean when needed. I’ve been told I pack a mean punch in bar fights.”
“ no…I mean. Can you fight with a sword ?”
“ Of course M’lady. Every man on this ship learns how to wield a sword. It’s what’s kept us the second largest vessel on this side of the ocean.”
“ Could you teach me…? I could pay in extra food. I’m in the kitchen at all times. I could make you whatever you like in exchange for your services.”
Adhar looked at her strangely.
“ You… don’t have to pay me in anything Jane ..” he looked at her puzzled.
“ Are you sure ?”
“ Why do you want to fight ? We can protect you. Roman especially. A lady isn’t meant to— “
“ Be honest you— know the city we left behind sees me as no lady. Closer to an animal with manners maybe. Ladies are protected and I was not ”, she snapped bitterly. Adhar's eyes softened at her words and she flinched from her own tone. Guilt washed over her. Adhar was becoming her friend. He didn’t deserve the nastiness she spewed.
“ I’m so—“
“ No….no you’re right. I can only imagine. Europe was never kind to me either. But you’re protected here. I’ve never seen Roman care so deeply about a lady before. He’ll always find a way to ensure you’re victory. Not saying the man isn’t a brute like the lot of us ….but he’s more calculated than he seems. He provides for all of us. You included.”
“ I understand that. I appreciate it but I need to know how to fight. How to defend myself should the worst happen. I can just tell from the look in his eyes he would never put a sword in my hand. He thinks I’m wounded—that I’m not like Alice.”
“ He just cares more.”
“ Then he can tell me that. Please do this for me Adhar.. I don’t want to be helpless if I’m captured again.”
“ Ok. We start next week then. I’ve got cannon cleaning duty and we dock in two days. Then I’m all yours.” he promised.
“ Thankyou Adhar. You don’t know how much this means to me. Thankyou”, she smiled. He smiled back and in that moment she saw glimpses of her distant relatives in his face.
“ You remind me a lot of my cousin's wife Aditi. You have her mannerisms'', his head tilted at her in thought.
“ And you of my second cousin raaj”, she smiled faintly.
“ Who knows. Maybe we’re related with the amount of family that I have”, He joked.
Later on after dinner she prepared for another night with Roman. Tonight she wore a dark green dress with a matching emerald necklace. She didn’t do much with her hair, deciding it best to let it flow freely. During one of their docking trips she found a small canister of lip rouge. It was a sheer light red and matched her skin fairly well. She decided to put it on her lips, at the tip of her nose and her nipples to enhance the appearance. This was common for the women in Europe to do which was passed down by the French. She heard her roommate talk about it many times. She didn’t know why she did it. She didn’t plan on anything happening this evening but somewhere far in her mind she acknowledged the idea. Perhaps a rush of desire would rush through them both and she’d decide she had to have him. Perhaps she’d let him see her naked just to see his reaction. Heat swelled in her core, something so foreign and forgotten to her. It had been so long since she enjoyed the thought of another man but then a tug of fear, pain and dread shot through her from distant memories. It was just a silly thought… she knew her limits. Still it was nice to want someone and to be clearly wanted by another. It was a simple pleasure she’d never known before Roman.
She slowly made her way up to the library in an attempt to calm her heart. He was there before her which surprised her and dinner was already served. He stood briefly, pulling her by her hand and guiding her inside. His eyes darken when he gazed upon her neck.
“ You look absolutely stunning”, he’s so close she can feel the heat radiating from his shirt.
“ Well you have good taste. Greens my favorite color how did you know?”, her voice was slightly breathier and silkier than normal. She barely recognized the voice that came out of her mouth. She cautiously took his hand and slid her palm up to his bicep, squeezing it. She inched closer. She wanted him to kiss her but she had no idea on how to initiate. If she stared at him long enough would he just do it ? Everytime he tried she would find some way to avoid it or her nerves would get to her.
“Please do it now…I’m finally ready” she thought to herself.
Romans eyes trailed down to her lips and he slowly closed what was left of the space between them until he was pressed up against her. He bent down by her ear
Asking her once more, “If I kissed you right now would it unravel everything I said on the dock”. He always had creative ways to ask her permission. She adored it.
“ Try it and find out sir ”, she whispered back. Roman eyes darkened as he leaned forward and she closed her eyes in acceptance, awaiting his mouth. Just when she felt the brush of his soft lips a scrambling clatter rocked the library. Jane screamed at the top of her lungs diving for the floor. Roman blanketed her with his body, keeping her pinned to the floor.
“ FUCK!” He roared as another harsh clatter rocked the ship.
Jane was trembling with fear. A moment of silence passed and they both could hear screaming on the ship, men shouting orders to each other followed by loud stomps.
“ Captain!!!”
“where’s the bloody Captain?!”
“Roman?!”
She slowly lifted her head to Roman. Her lip trembled as she held in a cry, “ Are-are we being atta—
“ A large cannon ball shoots through the small reading room just over their heads. Jane’s scream as Roman covers her from the falling debris. The library was obliterated.
“ Up “ Roman hauled her on her feet with a hurried tone. Jane looked around at all the splintered wood, feathers and glass littering the room. Their sanctuary. The place they claimed as their own was gone. The wooden panels of the room barely stood. There was a giant hole in the wall she had previously stood behind. In that hole she could see the ship that had snuck up on them in the dead of night. Somehow undetected. There were men screaming at the pair of them from the ginormous vessel This had to have been one of the largest ship’s she’d ever seen in her life. The only thing that came close were military vessels which she saw around the ports in London.
“ Jane listen to me…”, Roman whispered to her. The cannon was being reloaded. She could hear it click and rattle into place.
“ When I say go… I want you to run as fast as you can and go hide in the bottom deck. Hide in one of the closets and don’t come out until I come to get you. Do you understand?”
Jane was trembling. Her ears were ringing. Something in her told her if he left her sight she’d never see him again. That she’d never know what this could have been. That couldn't happen. She shook her head,“ I don’t want to leave you here.”
“ LISTEN to me Jane. If they board this ship they will come for you. You need to hide. You can’t be near me. They’ll use you as leverage. On my mark you dart downstairs do you hear me”, Roman’s eyes searched hers in desperation.
Jane nodded through tears. In the distance she heard howling and hooting from the enemy vessel.
“ We’re coming to get you pretty!”
“I’d have a fun time with that one.”
“Death to the black jewel !!”
Jane shivered, turning to face him. Her eyes were stained with tears as she clutched his collar for dear life. Roman pressed a kiss to her head looking past her periodically.
“ I’m not going to let them take you away ok?”
“ Okay”, she cried.
“ Go. Go now Jane”, Roman whispered as he watched her sprint from what was left of the room and into the darkness of the lower deck.
“CRACK ON!! Give wide berth!!”
A black flag with a skull and crossed bones waved in the air in the distance as the oppposing vessel readied their cannons.
“Ready the cannons now!!”
Jane pushed past rushing bodies in the dark. She shouted for Caleb but he was nowhere to be found. She continued to claw her way through the dark. Flesh scraped past her own, some muddled with sweat, blood, or water. She cracked onwards, traveling as low as she possibly could. She reached the final level, Artillery. No wonder he told her to go here, if they came storming through they would be met with resistance here.
Men loaded the cannons and sharpened knives. A few others loaded small guns and muskets. Jane rushed looking for somewhere to hide. At the very bottom of the ship there was a storage unit that had to be lifted up and climbed into. This was the pantry for the dried meats and also the icebox. Jane climbed inside and shut the lid, trapping herself in complete pitch black darkness. She could feel water rushing under her feet but the boom of the cannon is what really left her shaken. Each blow of the cannon from the black jewel scrambled her insides leaving her frazzled and disoriented. She tried her best to keep her ears covered but it was no use.
She didn’t know how much time had passed until the fighting seemed to quiet. She could barely hear what was happening four stories up but she assumed they were winning. She hoped they were winning.
Somewhere in all the panic, darkness and fear—her body found rest. Maybe it was from emotional exhaustion. She cried herself to sleep. Perhaps her brain needed a break to make sense of it all.
She was startled awake by the sound of metal opening and hands reaching for her. She stilled for a moment thinking it was Roman but the face revealed to her was that of a stranger. She stifled a scream when a knife was set in place of the finger pressed to his lips threatening her to stay silent. The man reached for her and pulled her up by her arms out of the pantry. She tried crawling away but two other men grabbed her and hauled her up on her feet. She was put into handcuffs.
Two of them were twins, blonde hair, blue eyes, hooked noses and stocky builds. The man in front of her was the Captain. She could tell by his attire. A large feathered hat, coat with pants and boots. He was the most put together with a long brown wiry beard and yellow teeth. He was seemingly bald under his hat and he wore an eye patch. The captain smoked from a pipe and blew it in her face as he assessed her.
“ This must be the black jewel”, the captain grunted. The two men laughed as the captain squeezed Jane’s cheeks together. She snatched her face from his grip and her cuffs were tightened in consequence.
“ Oh she’d be the perfect little pet”, said the taller twin.
“ Exotic for my taste but tempting all the same. You’ll be a nice addition to my ship”, said the rotten mouth Captain.
She sneered kicking her legs out towards his groin but he stepped back in time. She would have spat on him had her mouth not gone dry with fear. The captain stepped forward until they were chest to chest and pulled her hair back with the grip of his fist, exposing her neck to him. His breath smelled like ale and death.
“ Act like an animal… and get treated like an animal missy. I think you’ll find it best not to fight me, it will only make it worse for yourself”, he taunted. Jane would sooner die.
“ Bring her up to the top deck. We’ll see if he has a change of tune then”, The captain begins for the stairs.
Roman
There was a place in Roman’s mind that took over when he fought. He thinks about every problem he's ever had when he fights. The other part of his mind simply takes a seat and enjoys the show. So when he hears a piercing scream coming from his left, it jolts him out of the rhythm of his fight. Jane knelt to the ground, restrained by two of Captain Night’s crew members.
Something visceral jolts out of Roman as he watches Jane thrash against her restraints. Roman had been fighting through bodies for hours now. The deck was covered in blood and body parts—thanks to Rory. The sky seemed to rain blood because his eyes stung the more he fought. Or maybe it was a cut on his forehead. Not to mention he was covered in it. He sheathed his sword out of the torso of two men and stalked towards his rival ready to take aim at his skull.
“ I wouldn’t do that”,Night warned. Jane was tossed on her torso, head pushed into the bloody wet floor deck next to a man who had bled out from a gunshot wound —courtesy of the black jewel. Her head was painfully pulled back to look up at Roman. One of the twins pressed a sharp knife against her throat. Something falters in Roman as he searches his brain for a solution. He was going… to quarter and butcher this man. Roman finds a part of himself to cling to. Not this violent man but something more civilized and calculated. A man more covert.
“ Who exactly do you think she is to me?,” Roman raises a brow and clenches his fists to stop them from trembling in rage.
“ Your prized whore. That’s why you had enough sense to hide her in the bottom of the ship thinking nobody would find her. I saw the two of you in your study having a heart to heart after I blew it to bits. I know a man in love when see it. If you kill anymore of my men. I will make her death slow.”
“ I’ve always been a bit of a romantic even with the whores. Everybody on this ship had a heart to heart with the girl. That’s what she’s paid for.”
“ So if I slit her throat now …”
“ I would go and buy another. I never took you as the type to bother yourself with the likes of ship winches for the sake of getting to me? Jealous?”
“ So why did she cry for you ? And why is she crying for you now ?”Roman looks at Jane. She had been crying but not anymore. Now she just looked angry. It begins pouring rain.
“ I don’t know why women do the things they do and quite frankly I don’t care. Leave this between men. She has no business here”, Roman inched closer and closer to Captain night. Suddenly a howl from one of the twins sparks a distraction. Jane had bit down to the bone on the finger of the man with the knife. He held his severed fingers up to his face and roared in pain. Bone could be seen from feet away. It bought just enough time for Roman’s sword to slash down between the neck and shoulder of Captain night.
“ ADHAR, GET HER!!”, Roman bellowed. He painfully took his eyes off Jane and back to the captain gurgling and holding his neck.
Night's swords slashed towards Roman’s stomach, not making the impact he was hoping for. His stomach was cut but nothing that wouldn’t heal. Roman trucked onward and kicked Night’s knee inward, causing it to hyper extend. Night fell with a screech.
Without hesitation Roman’s swords pierced through the captain's eye in one swift push, the eyeball exploding and squelching around the tip of the metal like berries. He didn’t stop until he felt the crunch of bone. Night laid dead and his crew seemed to bellow in loss. Adhar pulled Jane to his chest and ran her to the infirmary which thankfully was still intact.
Roman finished the job thanks to the gun William tossed to him. He’d done unspeakable things. When he finally came back to himself the aftermath of violence confused him. He never would have thought that this was how his day would end. Mutilated bodies littered the deck. Some men laid skewered on swords and others gasped their last dying breaths.
The ship was beyond repair and they would likely have to take the other boat. With both ships under control they found deserted land to intermission at. The night star was the largest pirate vessel to ever sail the seas. This wasn’t the first time that Captain Night and Captain Roman had dueled. Roman started out on Captain Nights ship as a young man, working as a cabin boy. The work was hard and many times he considered jumping off and making his own way. Through the years they found each other and fought. His men killed Roman’s men. Romans men killed his men. It seemed that Night was on a mission to put Roman “back in his place”,and he stated over a decade ago.
Now the battle had finally come to the end. The rest of the opposing soldiers were picked off. Strangely, Night only had about half of the soldiers that Roman did. Roman’s casualties were around ten. The few remaining soldiers that survived were captured and tied to palm trees.
What could be salvaged from the Black Jewel was placed on the wind deck. The bottom of Roman’s vessel was flooded with water and wouldn’t survive another sail. It gutted him.
The items in the infirmary, his cabin and most of the medical books were salvageable. It didn’t erase the immense guilt he felt over the entire situation. Jane’s personal items were gone. Many of the crew's belongings were drenched. Just a few weeks ago he swore to protect her. Sure he’d won, but Night’s sailors shouldn’t have gotten near her. He’d lost a few men from the cannon as well. While winning the bigger ship was an upgrade, the loss of life was never worth it.
Jane
The side of her face was bruised from being pushed into the wooden floor. Her wrists burned from the cuffs and there was a persistent throbbing at the base of her skull. The Night star was decadent in every sense of the world. She suspected that it used to be some sort of royal vessel or perhaps a former military ship because it had so many enmities —even compared to the Black Jewel. Thankfully whatever the Black Jewel lost, they had regained times 10. The outside of the ship was practically cannon resistant due to thick wooden panels. What split the jewel in half, only slightly cracked the side of the new ship. They would likely dock for repairs soon and repurchased whatever was lost
It reminded her of a wealthy townhouse in a strange way. Yet here she was festering in the singe of guilt burning through her gut. Being captured by two men and roughed up wasn’t the worst of what she’d gone through. It was Roman’s words that hurt her. She knew they weren’t true and it was nonsensical to revisit their meaningless nature. Still, a small part of her brain couldn’t help but to investigate if it was true. It was such a stark difference from the man she knew. Cold, angry, uncaring, apathetic. The way his lips formed around wench. It gutted her.
Adhar pressed a rag filled with ice against her cheek. She kept the ice there for awhile. She found some astringent to rinse her mouth and a rag to clean the blood off her hands. He moved on to assist the other crew mates. Jane walked to the highest point of the ship, watching as Roman stabbed a knife through the last two surviving members of the original crew. She supposed he decided against allowing them a slow death. Jane didn’t flinch from the murder that took place in front of her. She was numbed out by the violence. Roman meticulously cleaned the end of his knife on the side of his pants and sheathed it back into his pocket. When he turned to her, her gaze averted to the distant trees.
Later in the night the ship set sail for the next port with supplies. Jane stayed on the wind deck watching the water fly underneath her. Only a few crew members walked around tidying up loose ends. She was lost in thought. The brush of their lips, the cannon, running, hiding, hard calloused hands grabbing her, the taste of another’s blood in her mouth. How she wished she could somehow restart the day and make things different.
She turned around to see Roman standing in the doorway of the Captain Quarters holding a lantern. She could see him mustering up the courage to say something to her. She surprised even herself when she slowly walked over to face him.
Roman clears his throat, “ Can we speak privately ?”
She answers with a single tired nod as he steps aside to let her into the cabin. He closed the door behind them and pushed down the curtains hanging in front of the windows.
The room was opulent. Large Bed, dining table, counter space, a bathroom with a tub. All the appliances went to a shoot that emptied itself into the water. The bedroom rug was soft and large. Some of Roman’s things were stacked on the counters yet to be sorted and organized.
Then Jane’s face turned to his solemn one. She searched his eyes before diverting them back to the floor.
“ Did they hurt you?”
“ Not in any way I haven’t been before.”
Romans eyes crinkled in worry. “ Jane…”
“ What”, she bit. He tensed.
“ I’m sorry…”
“ You’ve always been romantic with the whores ?”, She spat. Her eyes rimmed with tears.
Romans eyes widened in fear as he watched them spill over onto her cheeks. He stepped forward and she stepped back.
“ Jane…you must know that it was an act. Hasn’t it been obvious that I'm mad for you?”
“ It was so natural. Your eyes became distant in a way that I’ve never seen. You truly are a good Roman actor. You’ve nearly convinced me,” she whispered with a watery unstable voice.
Roman reached for her cheek to wipe her face. She was shaking and it shamed her to feel so deeply already for this man. But when those words slipped past his lips she realized she cared more for him than she had for any man in her life. It’s why it cut her so deeply.
“ Believe me… it came as a shock to me too..how much it hurt. What scares me even more is how easily you could destroy me if you wanted to. Not just physically no….today proved that,” she chuckled bitterly.
“ I will play whatever man I need to play in order to protect you. I do not believe you to be a whore or anything of the sort. But if it comes down between life and death I will always choose you Jane” he took a step closer. She was too weakened to step away now.
Another step and they were nearly chest to chest. Jane was too weak with emotion to leave his side. His arms wrapped around her waist and he lifted her chin to meet his gaze. He wiped more tears, shushing her quietly.
Then ever so slowly, Roman inched his face closer and closer to hers until his lips slotted gently over her own. Jane gasped against the impact, pushing into the softness of his lips. It stunned her. She knew that this kiss would happen eventually but not while she was so…vulnerable. He ate her cries and turned them into wine along her tongue. Or maybe that’s always what he tasted like. It sated her.
His tongue gently licked into her mouth asking to go deeper. She grants it to him. He’s bitter but slightly sweet with a smoky after taste from his pipe . Jane raises her hand and sinks her fingers into the base of his skull slightly pulling his hair. A wounded noise seeps from his throat nudging him closer to her body which inevitably forces her into a corner of the room.
The kiss becomes more frantic and desperate, lips pulling, teeth grazing, breaths panting. She squeezes his arms and shoulders, grazing the rock hard abs she felt for the first time. He keeps his hands above her waist, pressing into her sides and ribs with a gentle firmness that drives her mad.
It takes awhile before either one of them is ready to pull away. Everytime they stopped someone would go back for more. Finally after what felt like forever, she had to catch her breath. She pulled away and gently rubbed her lips. He’d kissed them swollen. She can see her slight tinge of rouge on his mouth.
“ Well…. It’s best I get you to bed. You need rest you’ve had a long day”, said Roman.
“ You need rest too. I’m sorry about your ship.”
“ We gained something better. We no longer have to worry about any other pirates sneak attacking us. We’re the big fish now.”, Roman sighed.
“ But I know you loved the Black Jewel.”
“ I love the boat that will keep you safest.”
“ I guess with time everyone will add their flair to this place….”, she murmured. He closed the space between them again, pulling her torso to him.
“ Am I forgiven…?”, he raised a brow at her pecking her lips softly again. Jane sighs resting her forehead against his shoulder.
“ I need time….”
She could see Roman’s face flood with disappoint but he didn’t let her waist go. “Okay”, he says. His tone was flat but his eyes filled with worry.
“ Just a little while. Your reaction caught me off guard is all…and it brought me back to a bad place. Sometimes things happen and it’s takes me a little bit to feel…normal again. I don’t know why. But if I’m…distant then you know the reason. I just need to resettle after today. Will you hold it against me?”, she frowned at him. His grip on her waist tightened.
“The only thing I’ll ever hold against you are my lips if you’ll have me. Speaking of…may I have one more kiss before my inevitable punishment? ”, he smirked.
That earned a small tug on her lips. She obliged. This one was more scandalous than the first. He’d purposely dragged it out making her feel every bit of the butterflies in her stomach. And more..
“ Goodnight Captain”, she pulled away slowly sliding her hand from his own as she walked away.
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monstersdownthepath · 3 months
Text
Herald of Shelyn: The Spirit of Adoration
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CR 15
Neutral Good Large Outsider
Inner Sea Gods, pg. 308
This gorgeous gal is said to be the incarnate of Shelyn's hope and love, born directly from the emotions of the Goddess of Love, and it shows. The Spirit of Adoration (who's title I will be shortening to 'the Spirit' or SOA from now on) is one of the rarest of the Heralds to ever see, as she spends the majority of her time in Nirvana, frolicking among the gardens of her mistress and creator. For vast swaths of her existence, the Spirit does little but entertain and interact with people coming and going from Blossomheart, the divine domain of Shelyn, putting her +22 to Perform and her Bardic talents to use. The only times she leaves are on diplomatic relationship missions with other planes... and as the occasional muse for a mortal in dire need of some beauty in their life.
Able to take the shape of any Small or Medium Humanoid, the Spirit masquerades as a bright and beautiful Bard when cavorting among mortals. She exists to lift spirits, dispel darkness, bolster love, inspire art, and preserve beauty, all things she excels at. Not over is she an incredible marriage councilor, but a phenomenal wingman, standing by the side of someone hopelessly in love but unable to pursue it, either because they physically cannot or simply don't know how; in either case, the Spirit provides answers and guidance.
Whether it's helping a budding relationship or helping an artist hone their skills, the Spirit can hand hand out upwards to six tokens of Inspiration, which often take the form of jewelry. So long as someone carries the token, they're blessed with a +4 insight bonus to Will saves, as well as Craft and Perform checks. Any Bard holding onto the token also gains +6 rounds of Bardic Performance per day regardless of their level, and the Spirit always knows the condition and emotional state of a token holder, arriving to their aid if they ever begin slipping... and if they put the token down for too long, she will know that it's because her job is done and they no longer need her blessing, letting her free up the slot for the next soul in need.
The Spirit is a noncombatant for the majority of her life, a far cry from most Heralds and very fitting for the servant of a goddess who holds out hope for even the most vile of souls. Even when pushed into battle, the Spirit seeks to end it as quickly as possible via diplomacy, charm, and calm explanations, saving violence only for creatures which cannot be reasoned with--namely, mindless Constructs and Undead--but even then preferring to fight only until they pose no danger to an innocent, going so far as to knock out and imprison the likes of daemons rather than dispatching them. While some may see her all-loving nature as foolish in such a universe, like her goddess she maintains that redemption, beauty, and love can be found in anything and given to anyone.
Remember that she's a merciful being as I explain to you just what could happen if that mercy ever stopped.
It takes a while to get there, mind. The Spirit's entire kit is devoted to keeping fighting to a minimum, to the extent that she has a Charming Aura that causes any creature within 30ft of her that fails a DC 24 Will save to be charmed for a day if they fail. A power like that would certainly be useful in the hands of a nefarious fiend, but the Spirit only uses it to get on everyone's good side to make them more amenable to her attempts at Diplomacy (which she has a +17 in).
She's also got Calm Emotions at-will for the same reason, and her aforementioned 40 rounds of Bardic Performance to distract or fascinate hostile crowds long enough for her to try and talk them down from their rampage. Should that fail, she has Good Hope and Inspire Courage +4 to aid any nearby allies in efforts to pacify the opposing force. She will refuse to kill any thinking being and will hesitate to harm even unthinking ones beyond the point of healing, using her at-will Cure Moderate Wounds to spare both ally and enemy from death in the hopes that her enemies will see the folly of their actions and begin walking the road to redemption.
While 40 rounds is usually enough to last her an entire day, there is the small but amusing interaction with her Inspiration power, in that she's not restricted from giving herself her own token, granting herself a +4 to Will saves and Craft/Perform checks, as well as +6 rounds of Performance if for whatever reason 40 isn't enough. If the DM allows her to do that, it's important to note that the stat enhancement is an insight bonus, meaning it STACKS with her own Unearthly Grace, which adds her Cha mod to her AC and all her saves; this means her saves go from an already impressive +17/+20/+24 to +17/+20/+28. She doesn't have immunity to mind-affecting effects, but between her 26 SR and a +28, she may as well; foes of a similar level to her simply can't affect her with anything that targets her Will unless she rolls a 1.
Her DR 10 is bypassed by Evil weapons like most celestial Outsiders, but she's immune to the common Fire and the typically-reliable Sonic, and has 30 Resistance to Acid and Electricity. She's not just sturdy, but she's also fast, moving 40ft a round on the ground and a 60ft fly speed with a proper +17 to Fly, allowing her to make impressive and often beautiful aerial maneuvers. Even beyond that, if she can see you she can just be there because she's got Teleport at-will, letting her appear directly next to anyone who's posing a threat to her or her charge. She's got a 10ft space and 10ft reach... but her statblock is a little ambiguous as to whether her 10ft reach is because of her weapon, a +2 Dancing Glaive, or in addition to it (which would make her reach 20ft). The downside that the glaive can't be used to attack creatures directly adjacent to her, but that's mitigated by the fact it's a Dancing weapon, allowing it to fight entirely on its own even when she moves, and leaving her hands free to cast spells, go full-defense, or open-palm slap someone for 5 nonlethal damage.
Whether she's wielding it herself or letting it dance around her, the glaive can attack up to four times a round for 2d8+8 damage, tripled on a critical hit. While she tends to go for nonlethal, the real use of her weapon is to disarm her foes; she's got Improved Sunder and a weapon strong enough to make that hurt, smashing apart her foes' weapons and armor if she just doesn't reach over and take them once she has them calmed, charmed, fascinated, or stunned.
"Stunned?" Oh yes. At will as a standard action, the Spirit can make a Stunning Ray ranged attack at anything within 180ft, blasting a target with a dazzling beam of light that deals 1d8 untyped and irresistible damage. Any creature impacted by the beam must make a DC 24 Will save or be stunned for 1d6 rounds, time the Spirit uses to rid them of their gear whenever she can... and, as the book states, time she uses to talk to them. Yes, for the entire duration of your stun, a 10ft tall beautiful woman will be trying to talk you out of continuing the battle. If you say "no, I'm going to keep fighting," guess what? There's no 24-hour immunity on her ray, so she may just blast you again... and again, and again, and again, and again, all the while relieving you of your equipment and perhaps even breaking it in front of you, until you either succeed the save (only to fail it again next round) or finally break down and surrender.
I don't know about you, but I think if I was some nameless soldier ready to kick some schmuck's teeth in, and the incarnate of resolute love and beauty descended from the heavens specifically to tell me to knock it off, I might begin questioning 'are we the baddies?'
And you know what? I've said all this without revealing the Spirit's nuclear option: Bardic Magic. 3/day, the Spirit can cast any Bard spell of any level. Do you know what most Heralds lack? Level 7+ spells. Do you know what the Spirit of Adoration has? 3 castings of any level 8+ equivalent spell in the game. Besides simple and silly utility options, the Spirit of Adoration can simply end any fight by casting oh, say, Overwhelming Presence, Waves of Ecstasy, or Hymn of Peace. And that's just defensive; offensive it's even worse, because Bards have access to spells including Shadow Evocation, Shadow Enchantment, and Shadow Transmutation, effectively meaning the Spirit of Adoration's spell list is "all of them." Bardic Magic is basically 3 castings of Limited Wish, except even stronger since the Bard's lower spell levels allow some sneaky power houses like Irresistible Dance, Mass Suggestion, Brilliant Inspiration, and Greater Shout, which are normally outside the power of Limited Wish. The DM is essentially encouraged to let the Spirit pull out whatever insane nonsense she needs to at a whim... but note that Bardic Magic is actually casting a spell, NOT using a spell-like ability! She has to provide components, if any are needed!
It's still a powerful option, and it makes her considerably more versatile than she already appears to be, in AND out of combat, and makes her just as dangerous as any Bard can be while surrounded by allies with fewer qualms about using lethal force. If you think she's dangerous on her own, just imagine how obnoxious Stunning Ray will be when there's a hasted Barbarian bearing down on you...
You can read more about her here.
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