#i very much did hate it as their plot for the series finale

[ivystitches]

i think that the roy x jamie fight wouldn’t be so hated and would’ve made more sense if it hadn’t happened in the series finale

[aeyumicore]

misty invasion - omnipotent perception

━ .ᐟ✧ PAIRING: rafayel x female reader (afab)

━ ✧.˖ GENRE: smut, porn with some plot, porn with feelings, angst with comfort

━ .ᐟ✧ WORD COUNT: 6.5k (who’s surprised)

━ ✧.˖ WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, slight spoilers and alterations to ‘omnipotent perception (rafayel’s misty invasion card), slightly toxic relationship, m!receiving handjob, bathtub sex, pulling out, cummies in hair/face, lots of making out, hickeys, HEAVY references to rafayel’s lore (sea god and some abysswalker), references to rafayel’s 4* memory fragrant dream, so much angst (with comfort), soooo much feelings, sensory deprivation, sensory play, blindfolding, switch!raf, desperate rafayel, kinda withholding rafayel, clothes on in tub, p in v seggs, use of y/n, use of pet names

━ .ᐟ✧ LINKS: video | ao3 | xav's version | sylus's version | zayne's version

━ ✧.˖ A/N: RAF IS HERE! sooooo this one is a long one. each one of my misty invasions got longer and longer, i am a menace to myself. but this one made sense, i felt as if raf’s misty invasion had the most lore subtly stitched into it and you guys know i always try and explore some angst/lore <3 i am very happy and excited to finally close out the misty invasion series. 

i’m going to be taking a much needed break after this. i’ll likely still be writing, but slowly and in my own time. I had a brief period of motivation, after the clarity of sharing my story, but now i am back to being anxious and exhausted.

that being said, please do not send anyone hate in my name or in my defense. I have never and will never ask for that. it’s enough that i have your support, i don’t need more than that. 

special thank you to my friend @myusuchaa for helping me SO much with the rafayel lore. definitely the biggest fish forker i know <3

as always, if i missed any warnings or used too specific physical descriptors, let me know and i can do better! thank you guys for your support. i love you!

THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL NEVER POST MY FICS ON OTHER TUMBLR BLOGS. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND ON AO3.

✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖ nsfw | minors dni | 18+ only | minors dni | nsfw ✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖

“Do you feel lonely in this world that is totally different from yours?”

—

It’d been a beautiful summer day, riding bicycles along the Italian coast of Verona. Rafayel had just finished his piece for an art exhibition in the capital of the picturesque city, and you’d had time to soak in the summer breeze with each other. The air was wonderfully salty, just enough to remind you of the sea itself. Of Rafayel. 

It hadn’t truly surprised you when you’d found out Rafayel had lived here before, especially now knowing his Lemurian roots. Something about the way he walked through the Veronian brick paved roads, the rustic wind tousling his beachy waves, the cloudy sun shining on his effervescent skin. Like he’d belonged here, once upon a time. 

It was the perfect day.

Even when you’d teased him about the Lemurian who’d dissipated into sea foam for a mere human, and Rafayel’s expression misted over with a melancholic nostalgia. When his eyes glazed over with a torrent of inexplicable emotions, he could tell you wanted to prod him about it. But you didn’t, and for that he was incredibly grateful. There was a part of him that longed for you to know, to remember, the truth of that story. But he couldn’t trust you with that part of him again. Not yet. 

Even then, it was a perfect day. The two of you in Verona, the city of Romeo and Juliet. 

Two ill-fated lovers. 

It was perfect, he was perfect. 

Until you asked him that question. 

“Do you feel lonely in this world that is totally different from yours?”

Suddenly, Rafayel couldn’t look you in the eyes. Even when the rain droplets had started to patter onto your sun kissed skin, Rafayel holding you close under his favorite cardigan to shelter you from the onslaught of crystalline water. He couldn’t look at you. He refused to look at you.

If he did, you might’ve seen the tumultuous storm flickering in his eyes. The violets in his irises bright with unshed tears, the blues dark with a bitter loneliness. 

He didn’t speak to you the entire way back to your hotel, heading straight to the bathroom. At first you think that perhaps he’s upset with you, but he only draws you a warm bath in the luxurious clawfoot tub overlooking the Italian night lights. 

When he finally does speak to you, peeling off his layers of soaked clothing, you can tell he’s masking his true emotions under a facade of classic Rafayel sarcasm. Joking about whether he should write a Lemurian handbook for you or just read you 1,001 Lemurian stories. But he surprises you when his voice cracks with a raw genuineness, one that’s masked under layers and layers of hesitancy and loneliness. You can’t quite understand it.

“You can be my caretaker. And I can tell you 1,001 stories,” he mutters, eyes trained on the ground once more, voice soft and vulnerable. 

“I’m okay with every choice you provide,” he continues as he peels your wet jacket off your shoulders innocently. When his hand reaches the inside of your coat, grazing against your exposed waist, he pulls his hand back. His face is a storm of conflicted torment.

“...But you should take a warm bath first. Or else you’ll catch a cold.”

As he turns to leave, the sight of his lean and muscled back making you blush, you muster all your courage and call out to him, “You can’t leave. You still haven’t answered my question.”

You catch his wrist, using all your force to pull him back. Rafayel stiffens, unable to catch himself before he tumbles backwards into the filled tub. 

He’s able to protect his head from hitting the edge of the tub, the water sloshing around and splashing onto the tiled bathroom floor. Rafayel sits in the tub, not a semblance of annoyance on his face. Instead he looks flustered, the warm water clinging to his defined muscles.

“Do you want me to stay?”

Rafayel’s hair is disheveled, the water making clumps of his damp hair stick to his wet skin. His eyes watch you with inscrutable emotions, waiting for you to speak. 

You don’t answer his question, instead asking one of your own.

“You can spare me the details, but there’s something important you should tell me…” you hum, walking to his side by the tub, leaning over him, “How do Lemurians express love?”

Rafayel looks startled by your question for a second before composing himself, “Do you really want to know?” The fragrant candles in the bathroom flicker, the steam of the bath dancing against the soft flames. His words seem less like a genuine question…and more like a vague warning. 

Before you can respond, Rafayel’s fingers are closed around your wrist, tugging you into the tub on top of him. You squeal as Rafayel guides your body onto his, the violent crashing of water loud against the soft sound of the rain against the large glass windows.

Rafayel looks smug, his hand holding yours against his chest. You’re messily sprawled across his half naked body when he shifts you off of him so that he can sit next to you, his strong arm wrapping around your body. The warm water is uncomfortable against your still half-clothed body, but you can only focus on the way Rafayel holds your fingers up to his mouth, pressing a kiss into the back of your hand like you were royalty. 

“When Lemurians fall in love with someone…” Rafayel mutters, his warm breath fanning against your hand, “All our senses are committed to perceive them without question.” His eyes are intense as he speaks to you, hoping to convey even an ounce of the love he speaks so honestly of. 

You raise an eyebrow at him, “Your senses? Like…this?” You untangle your hand from his, bringing your index finger up to his lips. You barely graze his pouty bottom lip before he’s panting, struggling to speak. 

“...Your way of triggering my “senses” has only touched the surface,” he mutters sulkily, yet he has to look away from you, cheeks rosy at your mere touch. He grabs your hand, eyes locked back onto yours giving you a silent warning. 

But you only proceed further, your fingers grasping his chin, your eyes peering up at him with a faux innocence. It’s not long before your fingers wander south, pressing into his heaving chest, flitting around his sharp collarbones. Rafayel’s reaction only fuels you with mischief and confidence, the way his breath matches his heartbeat: fast, erratic, and demanding. 

He looks at you with almost…disbelief. Disbelief at your actions, but more so disbelief at the way your simplest touches can have his body reacting so viscerally. It was a testament of just how much the dark-mauve haired Lemurian loved you, his every sense reacting to you so readily.

“...Are all humans idiots?” Rafayel grits, refusing to look at you again. But his body betrays his words when your hand ventures further down. You’re barely able to register the shocked expression on his flushed face before your back is pressed into the edge of the tub, the water splashing wilding as Rafayel hovers atop you.

He’s careful not to press his body into you, knowing he’d be an absolute goner once he felt your core against his. His thick muscles twitch angrily as he holds you down against the back of the tub, your hand clutching his shoulder for support against his erratic actions. 

“Someone’s intentions are as clear as day,” he accuses you. Though his words hold not even an ounce of ill-intention, he narrows his eyes at you. Just then, the rain outside turns into lightning, briefly illuminating Rafayel’s ethereal features. The flash of light accentuates the tempest that’s brewing in suspicious eyes. 

As you watch the turmoil flicker in them, you suddenly think maybe you pushed too far, “Do you not like it?” Your voice comes out more insecure than you’d wanted it to, suddenly aware of how forward you were being.

Rafayel sighs, pausing before his voice comes out pained, “If I said I didn’t, would you stop?” 

At the hint of anguish in his voice, you move to pull your hand away. But Rafayel’s hand abandons its grip on the tub to clasp against your hand, holding it tighter against his neck, refusing to let you go.

You gasp, as his movements cause the warm water to swash around. With his forceful hand over yours, your flushed skin prickles against his alarmingly chilly skin. 

“Rafayel, your body is so cold!” you whisper worriedly, fearing he might be catching a cold. For a second you forget that he’s Lemurian, accustomed to the frigid depths of the ocean. As your eyes search his anxiously, hand still gripping his cold shoulder, Rafayel’s own eyes watch yours meticulously. 

The swirls of blue and pink in his eyes have always been breathtaking, like the perfect mix of the most expensive paints. But now, as he watches you with the depth of the whole Lemurian oceans in his eyes, you’re completely speechless to the flickering of rampant passion behind them. 

That is until he grabs your chin roughly. Rafayel was no stranger to taking what he wanted, but this was different. The way he grabbed you screamed of…insecurity. Demanding, but unsure all the same. His cheeks are tinged the prettiest of coral pinks, his bottom lip jutting out ever so slightly as he closes the distances between your faces. Quickly, so he can’t change his mind. 

His soft lips slot over yours in a bruising embrace of passion, need, and unwavering longing. There’s something mind numbing about how gently his lips take yours, yet the pads of his fingers hold your chin so forcibly, as if afraid you’d slip into the depths of the water and disappear from his arms forever. 

The thunder rumbles deafeningly but all you can hear is Rafayel. He pants into you, his mouth claiming every inch of your lips, of your tongue. He kisses you like he knows nothing else, like he feels nothing else. 

He doesn’t let you go, although you’d never want him to. You only want him to hold you tighter, pull you closer, take you harder. You want to protest when he finally pulls away, gasping as a thin rope of saliva connects your parted and bruised lips.

Flashes of light illuminate his face, making him look as ethereal as the sirens warned about in ancient tales and myths. He hesitates to speak, trying to find the words to convey the emotions he’s been trying to control since the memories of Verona had begun to overwhelm him. The memories of his past. His past with you.

“And you’re warm,” he pants, still trying to catch his breath. His heart was pounding painfully, his body always so willing to react to you. All his senses, always so hyper aware of you, no matter how hard he tried to hide it. His thumb strokes your glistening bottom lip, fingers still holding your chin captive. His eyes watch you with an unbearable longing, the previously intense crinkle in them softened to a tender vulnerability. 

“So perfect for me.”

Butterflies wriggle in your tummy, and you reach your wet hands reach up to cup his cheeks. 

“Rafayel, you seem different…” you mumble, stroking the cold and smooth expanse of his cheek. He looks down, avoiding your gaze, clearly grappling with a turmoil of intrusive emotions and memories. Despite that all, his face softens under your touch, even unbeknownst to him. 

Before you can ask him what’s on his mind, he’s rubbing his cheeks into your palms. The warmth of your affectionate embrace makes it difficult for Rafayel to think clearly, and he can’t stop himself from whispering, “Will you still love me no matter who I become?”

You’re speechless at the blatant insecurity in his voice, in his eyes. Rafayel was always confident, years as a world-famous artist had made him self-assured in more ways than one. But now, as his shadowed and down-cast eyes searched yours desperately for an answer, you could see just how unsure he was. You could see the cracks forming in his polished shield, the fissure spider webbing uncontrollably, on the precipice of shattering completely. 

His eyes pierce yours, fully intending to get an answer from you. You don’t even think he notices how pouty he’s become, his bottom lip protruding in an tragically adorable show of just how badly he needs you to understand him. To love him. 

To remember him. 

Unable to withstand his paralyzing gaze any longer, you yank him down to you by the chain that hangs around his neck. The silver necklace matched the shimmering bracelet he’d gifted you, that currently sits on your own wrist. 

Rafayel grunts as you pull him closer, clearly taken aback. His gaze doesn’t lighten, only becoming more intense and heated as your breath grows more bated against his own parted lips. 

“You…” he grumbles, trailing off, eyes flickering down to the beautiful sheen across your lips, before they dart away, looking to where his fingers grip the edge of the porcelain white tub. The rosy blush that dusts his cheeks gives away just how much he yearns for more, more of you. 

You find him to be so irresistibly tortured that you can’t help but hook your arm around his neck, pulling him further down until your lips collide with his collar. If you can take even an ounce of his tumultuous pain away, you’d do it.

The thunder roars violently as you kiss him, the water in the tub splashing over and hitting the bathroom tile. Rafayel is quick to relent all control, letting you take every inch of him. His fingers thread into your hair as you kiss his sensitive chest, teeth nipping at the cold skin on his collar. His whimpering gasps are audible, fingers tugging at your damp hair, as you suckle torturously at his chest, no doubt leaving a reddened bruise. 

When he finally pulls away, there’s a clear look of reluctance on his beautiful features. You try and pull him back, and he briefly lets you before pulling back, the look of hesitation returning to his thunderous eyes. 

You give up, instead moving your finger to brush against the reddened hickey forming on his collar. Rafayel looks at you, pained and begging for mercy, as your fingernails graze over the sensitive skin. 

“When humans fall in love…” you hum, admiring the beautiful bruise, “We try to leave a unique mark on them.” 

At that precise moment, the moment you mention you’re in love with him, you can visibly see the fractured remnants of Rafayel’s walls come crashing down. He pants, eyes fixed on the way your hand presses over the right side of his chest, so dangerously close to where his heart was. To where his bond with you was etched into his very soul. 

In that very moment, a flip switches in Rafayel. His eyes burn, not with anguish or uncertainty, but with a dangerous desire.

“If you say so…” he rasps, leaning in until your breaths mingle into one. As his eyes flicker closed, lips ghosting along yours, he whispers, just before his lips claim yours. 

“Join me, then.” His lips press into yours, holding back as to not take you completely.

“Let’s drown in the ocean.” He inhales your torrid gasps, his words deceitfully simple. 

“Together.”

Rafayel kisses you, instantaneously consuming you. He pants into you, unable to soften the way his body reacts to you, the way his senses consume you until there’s nothing left of him. To him, loving you, losing you, and repeating the cycle…felt exactly like that.

Like drowning. 

He throws all that emotion into the way he kisses you. The embrace is so intense that it makes tears form in your eyes, emotions welling in your chest so tightly you fear you might burst. 

When he pulls away to breathe, you look up at him, “You never answered my question from earlier.”

Rafayel’s eyes widened, knowing exactly which question you were referring to. What he didn’t expect was for you to be so direct. His eyes dart around, but you hold his face in your palms before he can physically turn away. He opens his mouth to speak, before pursing his lips again in hesitation. 

You gently prod him, fingers stroking his locked jaw, “Raf?” 

“It…” he starts, eyes crackling with emotions. Rafayel struggles to find the words. He knows exactly what he wants to tell you, but can’t find the words to express it to you. 

It’s not that he wanted to be withholding, least of all with you. He would give you anything. He had given you everything, time and time again. To the point where it destroyed him. 

But the fear of having it all taken away, again, had made him so reluctant to lean back into the wind, like he’d done so many times in the past. Too scared of how much of himself he’d lose again in the never-ending cycle of falling irrevocably in love with you. 

And yet, as much as it took from him, it didn’t matter. Because you were everything to him.

“In this human world…it’s not difficult for a Lemurian to become lonely,” he laments wistfully, eyes misted with a faraway look. 

He continues. “But in all the lives I’ve lived, I almost never felt lonely,” Rafayel gently smiles at you, a smile filled with a wistful sorrow. 

“Really? Why?” you ask genuinely, still soothing his hardened jaw. His features had softened considerably as he peered down at your wet form, the tension between his legs growing visibly.

Rafayel chuckles. His answer was simple. 

Because, there was always you. 

But that was a tale for another time. 

“Are you trying to trick a foolish Lemurian into giving up all his secrets again, my little human?” he whispers huskily, leaning down to kiss at the skin under your ear. 

You’re about to ask him what he means by again, but the words die on your tongue when Rafayel sinks his teeth into your neck. His fingers find the buttons of your drenched top, unbuttoning it feverishly, desperately shedding your layers of clothing off of you.

Before you know it, you’re naked in Rafayel’s arms, his own bare manhood pressed insistently into your inner thighs, dangerously close to your core. Though the rest of his body is chilly from the rainwater, his throbbing erection burns against your skin. Even submerged in water, you can feel his pre cum oozing onto your leg, hot and thick.

His lips trail down your shivering body, kissing the grooves of your collar, teeth grazing the swell of your breasts. He’s nearly heaving, gasping for air like he can’t breathe. And truthfully, he couldn’t.

The dam of his emotional barriers absolutely decimated, the flood of his unabated passion overwhelming his senses. There is only you. The smell, the sound, the feeling, the sight, the taste of you. 

A Lemurian in love. Utterly, brokenly, and wholeheartedly. 

You try to match his intensity, pulling at his soft and wavy hair, drawing him closer to your naked body. You thrust your chest towards him, wanting him to claim you like he’d done so many times before. 

Rafayel chuckles at your obvious desires, but more than willing to oblige. His Queen. 

His lips close over your breast, his lips cold but his tongue wet and hot against your nipple. The warm water splashes messily against your clashing bodies. The lightning outside flashes, the shadows of your lewd acts dancing against the bathroom walls.

“Nnghnh, R-Raf!” you wail, his skilled mouth devouring you whole. Your spine arches into his demanding mouth, the wet splashes of the bath and the ravenous slurps filling the acoustics of the hotel bathroom. 

The pleasure of his tongue is so intense that your body can’t help but squirm backwards. Rafayel chuckles almost cynically, as he captures the back of your neck with his long and slender fingers. 

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re trying to run away from me,” he pouts, leveling with your drooping eyes, body already delirious from the pleasure Rafayel knows how to bring you. 

“Hey,” he murmurs, bringing your chin up so that your eyes meet, “Don’t make me wait anymore, please.” 

You can’t help but smile at his adorable pout, his eyebrows furrowed in a sulky plea. You wrap your hands around the back of his neck, twirling his wavy hair into your fingers, bringing him closer until your foreheads are pressed together. 

“I don’t want to wait either,” you whisper breathlessly against him, his face so close you can feel the length of his eyelashes against your cheek.

Rafayel gulps, his neck bobbing with the pressure of how forcefully he has to restrain his senses, restrain himself. It’s so clear how vulnerable he is to your every whim, so you take the opportunity to push him below you. His glimmering eyes shine with confusion, but he lets you climb atop him, hissing when your slick cunt presses down on his cock.

“What are you doing, Miss?”

You don’t answer, leaning over the tub to grab Rafayel’s damp cardigan, bringing it up to his face. He raises an eyebrow in question at you, his palms resting in the fat of your hips as your bare pussy drags against his pelvis. 

“Do you trust me?” you grin playfully at him, spreading the cardigan out and preparing to use it as a makeshift blindfold. Rafayel seems to know exactly what you’re planning. He looks up at you, inexplicable emotions reflected in his glassy eyes. 

“I do,” he whispers finally. His worlds are simple, yet something about them rips through your consciousness, filling you with a torrent of bittersweet fractures of a lost memory. 

A memory of another time Rafayel told you those same words.

I do.

Rafayel can read the confusion in your eyes, and squeezes your hips reassuringly. You’re shaken from the confusion of your mind-bending memories. Trying to focus on the moment at hand, you clear your throat and carefully tie the soft and expensive cardigan around Rafayel’s head, effectively cutting off his vision.

You lean down to whisper against his ears, lobes pink with excitement and anticipation.

“Let me show you what else humans do when we’re in love.”

Rafaye’s entire body quakes, his chest rising rapidly at your unabashed words. His fingers dig into your hips as he does his best to limit his embarrassingly visceral reactions to your body. With his vision limited, all his other senses are heightened to your will. 

With your lips at this ear, your neck is exposed to him. The smell of your pheromones mixed with your perfume clouds his thoughts, the urge to drive his teeth into your pulse so unbelievably overwhelming. But your palm on his chest pushes him down, your lips trailing down his ear, down his neck, and to his chest. 

With his eyes covered, his skin is all the more sensitive to your touch, 

“Please,” Rafayel rasps, nails digging into your thighs, “Please. I can’t wait anymore.”

You giggle at how adorably needy he’s become. You can tell just how much the blindfold affects him, his body more readily reactive to your lips, your fingers, your words.

Even with his eyes covered, Rafayel can’t help but pout. The inability to see you, his beautiful Queen, made him all the more desperate.

You decide to indulge him, fist closing around his cock under the water. Rafayel’s hips jolt violently, his lower half lifting to chase the friction of your soft hand. While he cries out in pleasure, you kiss down to where the water meets his defined chest.

“O-oh fuuck,” Rafayel hisses, his head thrown back on the edge of the tub, neck straining into the cool ceramic. His hips buck up into your fist wildly, your hand moving far too languidly for his taste. You continue to tease him slowly, his cock and your hand completely submerged under the surface of the water. He whimpers, teeth digging into his bottom lip, continuously thrusting up into your hand.

You take his desperation as an opportunity to torture him more, moving as gently as you can so that you can move up to his ear without him noticing. With your hand still pumping his oozing cock under the water, you whisper into his ear, letting your tongue graze his earlobe.

“When humans love someone…we want to make them feel good,” you whisper seductively into his ear, purposely letting your words come out in hot breaths. Rafayel jolts and squirms in response, fingers gripping the edge of the tub until his knuckles are pale white. 

“Sh-shiit,” he hisses breathlessly as your hand pumps up and down faster, the movements causing the water to ripple. His muscles flex under your touch, shining with a wet sheen against the flashing glow of lightning. 

“So? Does it feel good, Raf?” you murmur into his neck, pressing a chaste kiss to where his throat bobs with the heavy beat of his pulse. 

He thrusts himself into your hand violently, voice coming out in a gravelly groan, “Yes. You always feel so fucking good. S-so soft.”

Surprising him again, you take his lips into yours, insistently pushing your tongue into his mouth, all the while your fist continues to jerk him off. You catch every one of his unabashed moans with your own mouth, the muffled sounds of his pleasure mixing with the thundering storm outside.

It’s a furious clashing of saliva, teeth, and pure unfiltered passion. His fingers digging into your waist, your fingers squeezing his cock so tightly it threatens to have him spilling all over you and the filled tub. 

When you pull away, the spit dribbles down Rafayel’s chin and onto his damp chest. He looks adorably flustered, the cardigan still covering his eyes. With his sight gone, the feeling of your tongue against his, your fingers wrapped around his cock, your plush thighs against his twitching muscles is all the more intense. His body, all the more pliant for you. 

“Hah – if you keep going, I’m g-gonna–”

He doesn’t even have time to finish his words when his cock lurches in your greedy hands, thick and burning rivulets of cum shooting into the lukewarm bathwater. It’s strangely beautiful, like a ribbon of iridescent pearls. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Rafayel gasps, nearly choking over his own rapid breath, his fingers gripping the edges of the tub.

His body convulses with his orgasm, a broken mantra of swears and lewd groans the only thing audible even in the roar of the storm outside. 

“Nnnghnh – b-baby,” Rafayel whines as you pump him through a mind-numbing overstimulation, desperate to see you. But you don’t stop, only giggling as you watch even more cum spurt from his angry pink tip. 

In a sudden flash of splashing water and strong fingers gripping your thighs, you find yourself under Rafayel again, his hand holding the back of your neck protectively as he slams you into the edge of the tub. His cardigan no longer covers his eyes, likely discarded somewhere on the wet floor.

Your eyes are wide from the whiplash of his sudden movements, “Rafayel?”

His sunset eyes blaze wildly as he watches you, the sight of you so utterly indulgent and overwhelming after having his vision returned to him. 

“Will you let me worship you?” 

His question is vulnerable, desperate. He looks at you so damn hopefully that it’d be impossible to say no even if some insane part of you wanted to. 

You reach up to clasp his cheek in your hands, pulling him closer until your noses brush against each other, “Yes, always.”

With the breathy desperate utterance of consent leaving your lips, fanning across his open mouth, he loses it.

He forces your thighs wider, gripping you by the fat of your hips and dragging you towards him until your bare cunt brushes right against once-again hard erection. You were used to Rafayel’s virtually non-existent refractory period, his cock upright and commanding attention so quickly after his orgasm.

The lukewarm bath water makes every touch feel much more fluid, all the more intimate and sensitive. Your grip the edges of the tub for support, Rafayel’s movements erratic and unpredictable. He leans down towards you, your bodies as close as the confines of the tub will allow. 

“My Queen,” he mutters under his breath like a vow, shifting to line himself up with your entrance. Without another warning, he pushes himself into you. 

You squeal at the stretch, your arousal making it easy for him to push into you completely. Rafayel groans as he enters you, his head thrown back in ecstasy, his large hands wrapped around your thighs. 

Rafayel is absolutely not shy with his cries of pleasure. His body shudders even though he hasn’t moved since seating himself fully inside of your warm and impossibly tight walls. 

When he doesn’t move, you screw your eyes open in confusion, doing your best to speak through the wonderful stretch of his cock inside your quivering walls, “R-Raf? Are you okay?”

Rafayel doesn’t speak, but the glow of the storm outside illuminates the way his throat bobs, every fiber of his body overstimulated with the pleasure of your body gripping his, refusing to let go.

You move to shift towards him, worried about the way he’s locked up, but that only causes your body to involuntarily squeeze around him. Rafayel hisses, pushing you back down gently, his fingers caressing your cheek.

“I-I just need a second.”

“A-are you okay?” you ask worriedly.

“You’re so tight, so warm,” Rafayel chokes out, his fingers tightening around your cheek and thigh. You can vaguely feel his cock growing inside you, and it’s then you realize he’s paralyzed, not by hesitation or pain, but pleasure.

You can’t stop yourself from teasing him, clenching down on his manhood snug inside you. Rafayel moans, his hands coming down to grip your thighs in a silent warning.

“No more teasing me,” he cautions with a pout, one hand shifting to rest on your naval. At your mischievous grin, Rafayel presses down. 

You cry out, eyes rolling back as he forces the walls of your pussy to rub against his cock. Rafayel wants to smirk at your helpless writhing, but the sensation is also overwhelming for him. His body heaves, nearly collapsing on top of you, only catching himself by gripping the sides of the tub.

Your fingers wrap around his trembling biceps, eyes urging him to take you.

Rafayel swears, obliging at the fucked-out look in your eyes. He unsheathes himself fully from your addicting gummy walls, barely even leaving his tip in, before shoving himself back into you.

The newfound vigor of his thrusts makes the water in the tub slosh wildly, splashing all over your face and hair. But you could care less, because the feeling of his excitement bruising its way in and out of your throbbing cunt is literally all you can think about. Pathetic moans of pleasure, the only sound you can make.

Rafayel fares no better, strings of beautiful grunts leaving his own lips. His pelvis slams into your soft inner thighs, the sound of the water against your colliding skin sinfully mixing with your combined moans. 

“You’re so – nghnh – perfect for me, Y/N,” Rafayel groans as he drives into you, the tip of his cockhead brushing into your cervix and g-spot all at once, at every thrust. 

His hands clutching the tub on either side of your head cage you in, making it so the only thing you can focus on is him. And the only thing that his senses can perceive is you.

The only thing he can see is you, your tears mixing with the soapy water, the reddened love bites blossoming on your skin.

The smell of you heightened even against the fragrant scent of the bath soap, your pheromones driving him to the edge of insanity. 

Your wanton cries for him, fueling him to fuck you harder, the sounds of your sweet pleasure making his own noises come out unabashedly. 

The taste of you lingering on his tongue every time he bends down to capture your lips in his, saliva running down both your chins. 

But mostly…the feeling of your perfect walls constricting him, pulling him in, refusing to let go. The feeling of your hands, pressed deep into his twitching muscles. Your soft thighs locking him against your sopping cunt. 

God, he was so in love with you it was nearly pitiful. 

“You’ll always be my Queen,” Rafayel babbles, thrusts becoming erratic as he becomes overwhelmed by the bittersweet memories that’d resurfaced in Verona, “My entire heart.”

You nod vigorously at his words. “Always Raf,” you gasp, holding onto him as he pounds into you even harder, your spine thudding into the tub, the water cushioning the blows.

“You better never leave me,” he broods, putting every ounce of emotion into the way his cock claims every inch of your poor cunt. The word ‘again’ dies on his lips, the writhing artist above you opting to save that for another time.

“W-would – nnghnh – never leave you.”

His wild eyes focus on your words. He says simply, the subtleist hint of insecurity and doubt playing in his shaky voice, “I’m gonna – hah – hold you to that.”

You bob your head, wanting him to see how serious you are, see just how much he meant to you.

Your fingers venture to your clit, desperately pent up from all the sexual and emotional tension that’d built up from today. Rafayel doesn’t see you immediately, his head thrown back in a drawn out groan, his body glistening with sweat and bath water, chiseled muscles twitching with his impending release.

When he finally glances back down, he sees your fingers furiously pawing at your clit and he nearly growls at the sight beneath him.

His voice comes out broken and husky, uncharacteristically so for the normally charismatic and smooth-talking painter. He gently pushes your fingers away, his own lengthy and skilled fingers replacing yours.

“Let me,” he begs, hips stuttering as he nears his second release, “I’ll take care of you Y/N.”

His sweet words make you shiver, your body convulsing around him. Rafayel shudders as you grow tighter around him. It felt like you were nearly cutting off his circulation, in the best way. 

Rafayel’s fingers on your quivering bundle of nerves have you seeing lightning even with your eyes screwed tightly shut. He truly had the hands of a god, fingers slender and deft, the pads of his digits hardened from years of skilfully maneuvering expensive paint brushes. Your body was his canvas, and he’d spend hours creating art with you. 

“R-Rafayel, I’m soo – nngh – c-cloose,” you slur, your body arching into him, head thrown back until all you see is the ceiling above. 

Rafayel heaves at the sensation of you coming undone around him, his fingers still rubbing furiously. There’s a bright desperation in his glowing eyes, the need to see you cum on him as strong as the need to fill you up with his endless seed. 

As his body trembles above you, his fingers grip the tub so harshly his knuckles have turned taut and deathly white. 

“I-I’m close too, baby,” he groans, “Please, can I cum?”

You nod vigorously, wanting nothing more than to feel him release with you But Rafayel wants to hear you. 

“Say it, Y/N. Tell me,” he pleads, “I need to hear you.” His voice is so brokenly desperate it drives you closer to your release, the sound of his lewd pleas so utterly erotic. 

“Ra-Rafayel, n-need it s’bad. Shiiit – please!” you all but scream, his insistent fingers pushing you into your orgasm. 

Rafayel chews on his bottom lip as he watches how beautifully you explode on him, so unbelievably close to finishing himself. He desperately wanted to cum inside you, but he knew if he did that he would be at the point of no return. You’d very well spend the rest of your trip in Verona locked in your hotel room, his cock nestled inside you until you literally begged for mercy. And maybe not even then. 

So with every ounce of will he had left, he pulled out of you as he came, standing on his knees so he could wrap his fist firmly around his cock as he came. The force of his cum so strong it shot all over your damp breasts and even your face, your expression still contorted in the ecstasy of your climax. 

You watch in awe, your cunt convulsing around nothing, your orgasm tapering off, as Rafayel trembles through his own pleasure. His cum is hot as it splashes onto your wet body, some of it shooting into your hair. Honestly the sight of how powerfully his cock erupted makes your stomach lurch in arousal.

Rafayel whimpers through his endless orgasm, his fist pumping up and down as he finishes on you. You’re left quivering beneath his imposing body, mesmerized by the white ropes of cum that shoot from his angry red tip. 

When he finally finishes, his glassy eyes watch you, absolutely awestruck. He bends down, his forearms trembling as one grips the side of the tub, the other stroking your cheek. He catches a rivulet of his milky seed with his finger, grinning cheekily at your reddened face.

“I’ve never seen anything so damn beautiful.” 

If it’s even possible, your cheeks burn even more furiously. You swat his fingers away.

“Shut up,” you whine, looking around at your bodies, joined in the filled tub. You inwardly cringe when you notice there’s more pools of milky white fluid than there are bubbles at this point. The amount of cum he gave you every time was nothing short of a phenomenon. 

“It’s everywhere!” you shriek dramatically, hitting his chest above you, “We need to get cleaned up!”

Rafayel’s grin widens, and before you can ask him what he’s scheming, he uses the finger still on your cheek to smear his cum around.

“Rafayel!” you yelp, trying your best to inch away from his filthy fingers, coated in both your arousals, struggling due to the limited space of the tub.

“But you look so exquisite like this,” Rafayel murmurs, fingers capturing your chin, pulling you up to look at him, his eyes hazy and sated, “My beautiful Queen…”

He dips down to press a lingering kiss to parted lips, mouth hitched open in excitement. When he pulls away he grins playfully at you.

“Besides, it’s good for your skin. Lemurians have a lot of uses, you know.”

You raise an eyebrow at him, “Is that why your skin always looks so flawless?”

Rafayel’s cheeks flare, his eyes averting from yours, “Okay! Let’s get cleaned up shall we?”

You smile widely, unable to contain your fit of giggles. Your body shakes with your laughter, making the water ripple, “You’ve tried it haven’t you?”

Rafayel’s sheepish expression answers your question, “No! Shut up!”

“I knew it!”

© aeyumicore 2024.

.ᐟ✧ THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND AO3. i am not @/aeyumicores or @/aeyumiicore or any variations of my blog name.

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[joelsmochi]

outside? no problem. - joel miller

rating: E 18+ pairing: joel x pornstar!reader summary: part four; after convincing joel to go on a journey within nature with you, you quickly realize that a long hike won't be enough to wear you out. warnings: porn with a little bit of plot, slightly proofread (expect errors), joel is a llittle nervous, some anxiety, unprotected sex, premature ejaculation without orgasm (look it up it's hot), use of daddy, creampie, public sex + risk of getting caught, joel experiencing love and affection!!!!!!, reader gets her first official hate comment (plus a couple horny ones just cus lol) wc: 2.5k my thoughts: this was a very random thought i had, but it's fun and nothing too serious. also i hate the title but oh well 🥲 part five will dive into emotions a little more than i have allowed for this series, but for now enjoy the smut lovelies <3

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“How many miles so far?” You asked Joel, who shot you a quick glance before returning his attention to the trail ahead of him.

“So far eight,” he replied. “We really need’a do this today?”

“Oh, you mean after you came up with excuse after excuse the past three weeks? Yeah, we needed to do it today,” you sassed before steadying the camera to focus on the trees ahead.

“Can we take a break? My knees are killin’ me—“

He was cut off by your giggling and you managed to zoom in on the glare he was giving you.

“What?” He firmly asked, halting his progression forward.

“Old man,” you teased as you passed him.

A stinging sensation quickly seared across your right ass cheek causing you to jolt from the smack Joel planted there.

You yelped, laughing as you back away from him; he managed to snatch the camera out of your hands and pointed it at you as you tried to rub away the pain. Your shorts was unbearably wedged into your ass showing off more than enough of your butt, waistband folded down to expose more of your body than necessary.

“Smartass,” he grumbled. “You turn fifty fucking years old and tell me how your knees hold up after eight miles.”

You grinned, walking over to him and smacking his chest playfully. “My knees will feel fucking amazing because they’re used to a little traction.”

He chuckled, petting the side of your head endearingly, eyes softening as they examined your features. “I’ll just have to take your word for that then, huh?”

“You’ll have to take a lot from me,” you mumbled against his lips before closing the space between your two.

His tongue immersed itself into the world of your mouth, cherished the cool, wet slick cheeks, the grooves of your teeth, that serpent tongue of yours — he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t high on you 24/7 starting two weeks prior, when his brother paid you a visit.

You’d been making it up to him even though he continuously assured you there was nothing to make up for.

But he most certainly was not going to complain.

Suddenly, everything you did was just that much better to him, and not just during sex. He wanted to give you more than what you’d initially agreed upon. Love. A life. He didn’t just want you to be satisfied, he wanted you to be happy.

And he memorized every centimeter of your body, how it felt, how you reacted to his every move.

Every time his tongue slid across the top of yours he could feel your eyebrows furrow a little more.

Every time you deepened your grasp on his jaw or shirt, you wanted him to open his mouth a little more so you could reach further into him. To somehow be even closer to him.

And every time he moaned pleasure into your mouth your body melted a little more into his, and your lips curled into a smile.

It wasn’t until you’d heard footsteps nearby that you finally broke the kiss.

“Two more miles,” you whispered against his lips, giving him one final peck before continuing the hike.

He rubbed in the cherry chapstick you left on his heated lips and watched you walk away for a moment before following.

“We just reached ten miles,” you said to the camera that Joel smugly forced into your face, “and I’m so fucking— tired— why the fuck are the last two miles entirely uphill?!”

“Yeah, how those knees working now?”

“My knees are fine, fuck you very much,” you expressed between deep pants. “And I’ll prove it.”

“What about the ten miles back?” He said gleefully, nearly bursting with excitement at your breathless suffering.

“Oh,” you chirped, “old man afraid of some sex in the woods?”

“Wh—HERE?!”

“Not here. Maybeeee… There.”

“We’re not having sex in the woods—“

“Old man!” You shouted after you ran away into the trees.

“Fuck,” Joel breathed out before walking in the general direction of your disappearance.

After five minutes (which felt more like a half hour) of not being able to find you he began thinking the worst.

His palm became clammy, heart beating so fast it felt like punches, but the relief he felt as soon as he spotted you was well worth the worry.

Joel’s eyes scanned over your body, spotting a familiar pair of shorts and panties lying on the ground nearby.

His face didn’t change from the looks of anger however. You offered a bashful smile before settling your knees into the leaves and twigs on the woodland floor, sweatshirt covering the sweetest part of you.

“Don’t do that again,” he scolded, even going as far as to point a finger down at you.

“I’m sorry, daddy,” you replied, gently pressing a kiss to the heel of his palm. “I thought you were right behind me.”

“We’re not doing this. Not here.”

“But the camera’s already rolling… Be a shame to turn it off now.”

Watching you bat your eyes up at him while toying with the drawstring on his shorts was more than enough to get him to fold, but he was still hesitant. It was such an open and public space. Anyone could stumble into the woods and catch you two in the act.

Anyone could catch you…

“Make it quick,” he huffed.

You giggled happily, yanking his shorts to his ankles and allowing his semi-hard cock to spring free.

You hummed, giving his balls a gentle squeeze and tug while stroking his velvety shaft.

“Kiss it,” he said. “Yeah, that’s it babygirl… O-oh, fuck.”

Your tongue darted out to trail along the pulsating vein on the side of his dick, until you reached the bead of precum nestled on the tip of his head.

You pulled your head back, forcing Joel to watching the string of his precum stretch from him to you.

The last thing he expected was sex in the woods, but now that your were on your knees sucking him dry with a camera being held a few inches away it suddenly made sense why you insisted on recording.

Wanna make memories my ass, he thought, blissfully so as you were giving him full access to your tight throat.

“Hold it, hold— fuck. Right there, baby.”

He whimpered as you swallowed around him, big hand reaching to stroke and rub the side of your face, wiping away a few stray tears.

You pulled your head back enough to take a few breaths before repeating the act of deepthroating, going as hard and fast as you could handle for a while before forcing him all the way back in again.

Your cunt clenched around nothing, juices trickling down your thighs as your knees slowly buckled from the pain of twigs digging into your flesh.

He suddenly pulled out of your mouth, seemingly panicked with the rush of an orgasm, shouting, “Ohshitohshitohshit.”

You coughed, attempting to reach for his cock again but he stopped you.

“Fuuuuuck!” He finally moaned as two long, thick ropes of his cum shot onto your face and hair.

You grinned and grabbed a hold to stroke him, hoping for more to come out.

He let out a strained groan, relaxing his abdomen and letting the remaining cum leak out of his tip onto your tongue and the ground.

“Already?” You asked softly while you gave his hard shaft kisses and licks.

“That,” he hissed, “was buildup from you teasing me all day.”

He stepped out of his shorts and sat on top of them, pulling you into his lap.

“Ah!” You laughed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Those shorts were deeper in your ass than I was last night,” he retorted.

“Mmm, that’s not teasing,” you whispered, pumping his length slowly. “That’s giving you a preview.”

He tugged at your jaw hard, pinching your cheeks, using his index finger to smear the white streaks that were on your face.

“Time for the show then, hmm?” He hummed.

You did your best to smile, nodding against his strong hand.

“That’s right, daddy,” you answered compliantly.

He was patient while you got yourself situated, ass facing him, wet pussy grinding against his pelvis.

Joel tugged at your left cheek to spread you for the video, watching your holes pucker and clench eagerly as you teased yourself before finally sinking down onto his warm cock.

A long drawn out moan left your mouth as he stretched you out. Joel smacked the red bruise he left on you earlier and pinched the same spot right after, forcing you to yelp and stumble in the squatting position you were already struggling to maintain.

You reached back to smack his stomach but he only laughed, sitting up a little to give himself a better view.

He held the camera out enough to get the two of you in the frame as you started bouncing on top of him.

He threw his head back, certain he wouldn’t last long enough to for you to get off.

He’d just have to make it up to you.

Because your pussy swallowed him perfectly, the slight curve of his dick hitting the spot he knew was your favorite.

Your ass clapping against the soft peak of his belly was surely loud enough to echo within the trees, and a mixture footsteps and laughter could be heard not far away enough to give Joel the sense of security he usually required.

No doubt people passing by without headphones in their ears could hear your annoyingly high pitched moans, or the obnoxious clapping of skin to skin as you rode the older man relentlessly.

Joel’s free hand found your clit and he shove the camera between his legs for both a close up shot of you soaking his cock with your juices.

Joel tried to think about something, anything to stop the threat of cumming too soon, but all he could focus on was how deep your pussy felt, and how it was all his.

“This pussy belong t’me?” He growled beneath you, smacking your sensitive clit when you didn’t give him an answer.

“Yes, daddy! Yesyes—fuuuck!” You shouted, head bobbing as you bounced even higher and harder.

He gripped your hips hard enough to keep you still before thrusting up into you, forcing your moans to be louder and longer.

You could feel that tingle underneath your clit, the one that threatened to release itself if Joel’s forceful thrusts didn’t stop.

You became clumsy, falling forward and accidentally knocking the camera over, but work was the last thing on your mind.

You begged for Joel to keep going— “Don’t stop please! Don’t fucking stop, Joel!”

“You gonna cum? You gonna soak my cock pretty girl?”

With bent legs and trembling hands you tried to meet his thrusts halfway, forcing him to thrust even deeper into to you.

“I’m gonna—fuck!” You leaned back and used your hand to rub your clit painfully fast, that tingling now releasing itself.

“What? You’re gonna what?!” He encouraged, smacking your thigh to coerce the words out of you even more.

“I’m gonna cum, Jo— I’m gonna fucking…! Cum!”

An uncontrollable gush of liquids flooded between your bodies, the intensity of the orgasm overbearing your body through the gummy walls of your cunt and the small vessel beneath your clit.

You cried out at how overwhelming it all was but  not doing anything to stop it, wanting Joel to feel as much of your orgasm as you could give him.

Your pussy was throbbing, clenching tighter with every throb his cock forced you to endure; you wondered if he had anymore cum left to fill you up with.

As you squirted all over him he found himself on the brink of bliss. His body was planted firmly into the ground by now, letting your juices pool in the curves of his body.

He tried to stop you long enough to film it, but you were so dazed and set on making him finish he couldn’t get more than a strained grunt out before finally cumming inside of your swollen cunt.

His nails indented crescent moons into your waist, cock straining against your walls.

Joel nearly choked from breathlessly moaning your name, back and neck arching off of the cold ground. His eyes were screwed shut from the overstimulation as you eagerly bounced on his cock despite the burning in your joints.

It wasn’t until you finally stopped that Joel felt he could breathe again; his eyes slowly opened, he was immediately greeted with the smile on your face.

“You certainly made a mess,” he chuckled upon noticing the mixture of cream and squirt everywhere.

“You love when it’s messy,” you chirped.

“Mmhm,” he hummed after sitting up slightly.

He opened his mouth to say something else but he hesitated, taking the prolonged silence as a sign to keep his thoughts to himself and opting to just reach for the camera instead.

“Lift slowly— Slower,” he instructed.

You raised your hips up slow, just like he said, feeling that burning stretch one last time until his dick was finally out; you heard him moan and praise you as his cum slowly leaked from your hole down your lips, dripping onto the peak of his belly adding to the mess.

“Look at that,” he groaned, using his fingers to spread your lips. “You’re so fuckin’ amazing.”

Using one hand to spread one of your cheeks you looked back towards him and said, “Leave some in for the hike back.”

He used two of his thick fingers to stuff the little amount of his load back inside of you, biting his lips in an attempt to contain himself when your hips twitched at the delicious burn.

Soon after, you decided it was time to clean up and start the dreadful journey back to the car.

“Your knees gonna hold up, Grandpa?” You teased once you both were back on the trail; you were both unphased of the judgmental looks you received from a couple that was nearby. Even if they didn’t hear anything, your flushed faces and sudden appearance from within the trees was telling enough, but you couldn’t care less as of now.

Neither could he.

“They’re gonna have to,” he replied as he gently tugged your arm so that his lips touched your ear. “I’m gonna need them to bend you over later.”

“Oh, Joel, I will definitely be taking you up on that.”

DILF takes care of me when I get horny on the hike ;)

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Comments

user1 need a slut like that 😍

user2 fuuck this made me so wet

user3 first this bitch lets two brothers fuck her worthless ass at the same time (gross on so many levels) and now she’s fucking in the dirty ass woods ??this slut is disgusting and a waste of oxygen

         ⤷  yourusername if you keep talking dirty to me like that i’m gonna have to fuck your brother in the woods next to relieve myself 

[helen-with-an-a]

I am an adult pt 6

Hiiiii. I just wanna say thank you so much for everyone's support and love while writing this series - it means so much to me. This part was very easy to write but also emotionally draining ahahaha. Ik I did a poll and a lot of people said they wanted 1 really long fic, but I've split it into 2 halves instead cos it was so long! Also a massive shout out to @lyak12 who helped me a lot with the plot and hyped me up- forehead smooches for u. Anyways, I hope you enjoy.

Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 3.5 : Part 4 : Part 5 : Part 6 : Part 7 : Epilogue

Barça Femeni x reader / Lena Oberdorf x Reader

Description: R faces the consequences of her actions

TW: It's very emotional and hints of R's bad mental health

Word Count: 6.6k

You genuinely had no idea how you ended up at the beach. One moment, you were in the changing rooms with your life falling apart around you – your shattered dreams and splintered relationships crashing to the ground. And then you were on a quiet bench near the sea wall, legs tucked under your chin as you sat silently, broken in so many ways.

The gentle breeze carried the tangy scent of saltwater, mingling with the faint aroma of sunscreen and something fried wafting from a nearby snack stand. The waves relentlessly lapping at the shore rhythmically, the repetitive sound a soothing melody to help you drift away in the stillness. Time seemed to blur as you stared out at the vast expanse of the sea, lost in the chaos that was your mind.

You didn’t need to look up when you felt a presence standing next to you. You felt the bench dip as they sat down, not bothering to speak. You stayed silent for a very long time. You had no idea how long you had been there – minutes, hours, perhaps even longer. But as the bright blue sky began to shift into a blaze of fiery oranges, soft pinks, and deep purples, you realised that it had been long enough for the day to give way to the dark blues of the evening. A lone tear trekked down your cheek; you didn’t bother wiping it away.

“They hate me,” you finally said. You heard your companion sigh quietly, a sound filled with empathy and understanding.

“They’re scared,” Esmee countered, her voice soft and soothing. You didn’t respond, the weight of your thoughts drowning out the gentle reassurances offered.

"I fucked up," you admitted after a few too many minutes, the rawness of your confession cutting through the silence. It was Esmee’s turn to be quiet, her expression a mixture of compassion and thoughtfulness.

“We all make mistakes,” she said after a beat, her words a gentle reminder. Well, that was the most Esmee response ever. You turned to look at her, the fading light casting shadows across her face.

“This was more than just a mistake.” you insisted, your voice sounding weak and far away.

“You were hurt. You needed comfort. Something that you couldn’t find in Barcelona.” Her words hung in the air between you.

“I hurt them,” you said resolutely.

“Yes, you did. But I don’t think you meant to.” You could always count on Esmee to offer the truth. Some people thought she sugar-coated things, but you always found that she just said things in a way that was honest yet kind.

You fell back into silence, both of you looking out to the horizon. You had no thoughts wandering across your mind. No voice in your head or niggling feelings. You were just numb. It could have been minutes or hours; you weren’t sure.

“C’mon. Let’s go.” Esmee encouraged, standing up and offering her hand.

“I, um,” you cleared your throat. “I don’t have my keys or anything.” You looked up at her with big, wide eyes.

“That’s ok,” she smiled.

The silence in the changing rooms was deafening, broken only by the sound of shallow breathing. No one dared move. The only noise was the door clicking softly shut behind you.

“Qué quiso decir? Por qué no le renuevan el contrato?” It was Martina who was brave enough to speak up. Bruna looked up from her intense stare at her boots. All of the younger girls' eyes fell on Alexia. She was their captain, and they needed her to navigate these choppy waters. Alexia blinked. No one had mentioned the possibility of the club not extending your contract. She knew you were able to go on a free at the end of this season, but she had assumed you would sign for Barça again, at least for a year or so. When she had seen those pictures of you in Germany, she thought something had looked a little off. Even through the pixels, you looked so … distant. You clearly did not look comfortable there. At first, she chalked it up to nerves about meeting your new teammates and guilt that you were caught in the act. But now … now she wasn’t so sure. There was a tightness to your face, your usually bright and animated eyes looked clouded, and a subtle sadness in your posture.

“N-no sé.” Alexia breathed, clearly dazed.

“Ella no puede irse.” Vicky insisted. You and Vicky had a unique bond, one that often drove the older girls insane with your misbehaviour.

“She doesn’t have a choice.” Kiera reminded her softly, bringing an arm up to comfort the youngster. “A club doesn’t have to offer anyone an extension if they don’t want to, for whatever reason. Y/N has to leave Barcelona if she wants to play football next season.” Keira had always been a voice of reason in the team; she always had an great understanding of the dynamics at play both on and off the pitch.

“Pero … por qué?” Vicky looked around.

“I’m not sure,” Keira answered honestly.

“Ella no se está transfiriendo?”

“Not willingly,” Keira smiled weakly.

It wasn’t until you stepped through Esmee’s front door that you realised you'd never actually been to her place before. You weren’t the best of friends; she usually hung out with Aitana, Ingrid, and Frido – the quieter girls on the team, quite the contrast to the lively bunch you, Cata, Pina, and Ona could be. Her flat was distinctly Esmee: neat and tidy but with a warm, inviting atmosphere. The shelves were littered with pictures of friends and family, and the walls were filled with colourful art. Her couch looked cosy, with a soft green throw draped artistically over the back. “Do you want some tea?” she asked kindly, smiling as she gestured to the kitchen. You returned her smile with a soft nod. Why was she being so nice to you? You had been a raging arsehole and deserved nothing but the harsh words Lucy had hurled your way.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I told the others you’re with me,” she said apologetically, handing you a steaming mug. You nodded again, your heart sinking a little. “They aren’t going to come round, at least not tonight.” Was Esmee a mind reader? How else would she know you were anxious about them coming over?

“How did you find me?” You asked sometime later. It had stumbled across your mind when she first appeared next to you.

“You mentioned that you like to go to the beach to think.” Have you mentioned that? “After training, I drove along the front until I saw you.”

You stared into your refilled mug; the steam curled upwards and danced in front of you. “I didn’t know you knew that,” you murmured. “I didn’t think anyone knew that.” It was true; you don’t think you had ever mentioned the long walks along the beach you liked to take in the early hours when you couldn’t sleep. The fresh air helped clear your mind, the movement of your body helped to get the blood flowing again, and the peaceful nature helped soothe your soul.

Esmee shrugged, a gentle smile on her lips. “I notice people.” Her words hung in the air between you, warm and comforting like the tea you held. You glanced up at her, feeling a flicker in your chest.

“Thank you,” you whispered sincerely. She nodded back at you, settling back against the sofa, sipping on her own mug.

Ona was conflicted. On one hand, she was immensely relieved that you were safe. You weren’t lying dead in a ditch somewhere or injured and in a coma, unable to identify yourself to anyone. The scenarios that had been playing in her mind for days were far worse than the reality. She had been losing sleep, haunted by the fear that something terrible had happened to you. Knowing you were okay was a weight off her shoulders. But on the other hand, a heavy sense of betrayal gnawed at her. You hadn't trusted her enough to tell her anything. She thought about all the times you had confided in each other, sharing secrets and dreams and comforting each other during tough times. She was your best friend, the one who had always been there for you. And yet, you ran a thousand miles away without a word, without a hint of where you were going or why.

The hurt she felt was deep and raw. How could you not have trusted her with your plans? Why didn't you believe she would understand or help you through this? Her mind swirled with questions and doubts, each one cutting deeper than the last. She wanted to be happy that you were safe, but the sting of your secrecy made it hard to fully embrace that relief. The bond you shared felt strained, and she couldn’t shake the feeling of abandonment.

And now you had disappeared again. When she finally stepped foot on the pitch, she had thought you would have been there too, waiting for training to start. But you were nowhere to be found. Ona scanned the field, her eyes darting from one familiar face to another, hoping to catch a glimpse of you. Her heart sank with each passing moment. The coach blew the whistle, signalling the start of practice, but her mind was elsewhere. She couldn't focus, the worry gnawing at her insides. It must have been one of the worst training sessions she had had in a long time.

She had broken one of Alexia’s steadfast rules – no phones at training. Ona checked her phone obsessively, hoping for a message or a missed call from you. Nothing. The knot in her stomach tightened. She wondered if something had happened again or if you had chosen to vanish this time without a trace, leaving everyone behind to worry and speculate. Her phone buzzed.

Esmee: I’ve found her. She’s safe. I’ll bring her back to mine when she’s ready. E

She could have cried. She was fairly sure she had. Relief washed over her, mingling with the painful ache of betrayal. At least you were safe, and that was the most important thing. As she stood there, clutching her phone, Ona resolved to be patient. She would give you the space you needed, but she would also be there, ready to listen, when you were finally ready to talk.

You woke up the next morning in just as much of a daze. It took you a moment to realise you were on Esmee’s couch, the unfamiliar surroundings disorienting you even further. You hadn’t slept well. You tossed and turned as much as possible on the small couch, the spare bedding Esmee gave you tucked up around your chin. When you did sleep, it wasn’t much better; the nightmares that your mind dreamed up made you even more tired than before.

The quiet chatter from the kitchen pulled you from your not-quite sleep. “That’s up to her to say, Mapí,” Esmee said softly. You could imagine her face, the small apologetic smile and pinched eyebrows.

“Pero... sólo quiero saber, por qué? Ella de dijo algo anoche?” Mapí implored further. Of course, Mapí would be grilling Esmee. You could see her arms moving around as she spoke.

“Min skjønnhet, stop bugging Esmee” Ingrid cut in. You could envisage Ingrid’s soft smile and gentle hand moving comfortingly across Mapí’s shoulders.

“No, mi corazón. Necesito saber por qué se fue del puto país en lugar de hablar con nosotras.” she all but shouted, a guilty look flashing across her face as she registered her volume.

“María.” You didn’t need to be in the room to see Ingrid’s unimpressed look.

“Mapí, I’m not going to betray her trust like that. I found her, I took her home, she stayed the night. Ask her yourself.” You had never heard Esmee sound so tough. Your heart swelled at the thought of her protecting you. Sitting up slowly, you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and listened more intently.

Mapí sighed, the sound of a chair scraping back as she sat down. “Aunque estoy muy enojado con ella. No creo que pueda hablar con ella sin gritar.”

“I know,” Ingrid reassured her, her voice softer now but still firm.

You took a deep breath, gathering the courage to finally face them. The floor felt cool beneath your feet as you walked towards the kitchen, the soft murmurs of their conversation growing louder.  As you entered the kitchen, three pairs of eyes turned to you. For a moment, no one spoke. The air was thick with unspoken words and raw emotions. Mapí stood up, her movements hesitant. “Por qué te fuiste sin decir nada?” Her voice was trembling, and you could see the effort it took for her to keep her tone steady.

You swallowed hard, trying to find your voice. “I...” you took a deep breath. “I don’t know. I just needed out,” you confessed.

“Y pensaste que desaparecer sin decir una palabra era la mejor manera de hacerlo.?” Mapí’s frustration was evident, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. You had no words. You had no reason, no excuse for your behaviour.

Ingrid stepped forward, her face a mask of disappointment. “Do you have any idea what you put us through? We were worried sick, thinking something terrible had happened to you.”

“No puedes simplemente huir de tus problemas y dejar que nosotros recogamos los pedazos.” Mapí added

Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at each of them, their disappointment bearing down on you, crushing you. You had never felt so small, so utterly ashamed of yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, the words barely audible through your tears. “I never meant to hurt any of you. I was just... overwhelmed. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“We understand that you were struggling, but that doesn’t excuse what you did. We’re your friends, and we deserve better than to be left in the dark like that.” Ingrid sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “We care about you, but you need to understand that your actions have consequences. You can’t just expect us to forgive and forget.”

“I don’t expect you to.” You refused to meet her eyes, gaze fixed firmly on the tabletop. “I really am sorry,” you whispered out, blinking rapidly to try to stop the tears. Feeling the weight of their words settling heavily on your shoulders, you knew you had a long road ahead of you, one filled with apologies and making amends.

Alexia couldn’t allow herself to feel all the emotions she was feeling. She had to be the strong one, for the team, the one who held everyone together when everything seemed to be falling apart. But deep down, behind the facade of strength she presented to the world, she was crumbling. Fear, anger, and grief churned inside her, threatening to consume her whole. She wanted to scream, to cry, to lash out at the unfairness of it all. But she couldn’t. She had to keep it together ... for the sake of those who depended on her.

Her training was one of the best she had ever done. She focused solely on the ball at her feet. Her passes were stronger, her shoots were faster, her tackles harsher. Each movement was driven by a mix of determination and frustration. Yet, no matter how much she threw herself into her sport, the ache in her heart remained. The weight of your absence hung heavy in the air, a constant reminder of the betrayal she felt. You had received some terrible news. News that had blindsided you into fleeing the country. And you hadn’t confided in her. That was what made her the most … angry wasn’t the right word. Sure, she was so incredibly angry with you for running away. Even when you had all the legal trouble last year, she had never been this angry with you. But now that anger mixed with pain. You had begged her, pleaded with her to treat you more like an adult. And the first thing you had done when times had gotten tough you had acted like a child. Rather than asking for help, reaching out to those around you … those who loved you like family … you had fled. No word, no explanation, no nothing. You left. You left the team. You left her.

As she sat in the solitude of her car, the weight of your actions bore down on her like a heavy burden. The betrayal cut deep, slicing through the layers of friendship and trust she had built with you over the years. She wanted to understand, to offer you comfort and support in your time of need. But the hurt ran too deep, leaving behind a bitter taste of resentment and disappointment. How could you have kept such a monumental thing from her? Had she made you think you couldn’t come to her? Why? Why? Why? The questions swirled in her mind, unanswered and unresolved, adding to the confusion already in her heart.

Esmee graciously drove you back to the training ground to retrieve your belongings. Grateful that it was only an afternoon session, you silently thanked the heavens for the deserted car park. It was eerie, walking through the silent corridors and into the empty changing rooms. You tried very hard to not think about the events of yesterday, focusing on the speckled flooring and the wooden benches as you dug through your bag to get your keys. You would be back that afternoon, so the kit could stay in your locker for now. Your phone was dead, unsurprisingly, but you knew Lena would have spammed you in the meantime.

Returning home felt surreal. Evidence of someone's presence lingered—dishwasher humming, blankets neatly folded. The thought of Ona or Alexia, perhaps tidying in anticipation of your return, tugged at your heart. The house, once brimming with life, now felt suffocatingly empty. Each room echoed with your absence, the memories of laughter and warmth now hauntingly distant. Moving through the familiar spaces, you felt like a ghost, your steps muted by the plush carpet beneath you. Every corner held a fragment of the life you would have to leave behind, each one a bittersweet reminder of what once was. Yet, as you moved from room to room, a sense of disconnection enveloped you, as if you were a stranger peering into a life that no longer belonged to you.

Your phone buzzed, and buzzed, and buzzed. Lena’s texts were coming through.

L💚: How was it?

L💚: Did u speak to them?

L💚: Is everything ok?

L💚: Schatz?

Missed call from L💚

L💚: Helloooooooo

L💚: Schatz?

Missed call from L💚

Missed call from L💚

L💚: Ur really scaring me

L💚: Schatz ????

Missed call from L💚

Missed call from L💚

L💚: Please

Missed call from L💚

L💚: Bitte

Missed call from L💚

Missed call from L💚

L💚: WHY THE FUCK HAS ALEXIA JUST TEXTED ME TO TELL ME U DIDN’T TELL THEM U WERE IN GERMANY????????

L💚: PLEASE TELL ME U TOLD THEM U HAD LEFT THE FUCKING COUNTRY

L💚: WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK

Missed call from L💚

Missed call from L💚

Missed call from L💚

L💚: Y/N !!!!!!!

Missed call from L💚

Missed call from L💚

Missed call from L💚

Missed call from L💚

L💚: ANSWER THE FUCKING PHONE

Missed call from L💚

Missed call from L💚

L💚: PHONE ME !!!!!!!!!!!!!

The last message dated from only 30 minutes ago.

Incoming call from L💚

“Schatz, what the actual fuck?” Lena almost shouted down, the Facetime picking up her distress.

“I … I …” you felt a tear escape. “Fuck,” you said, harshly wiping it away.

“This makes me look so bad. Do you get that?” You did get that. To the team, she was now the girlfriend that aided and abetted your horrific actions. “I know. And I’m so, so sorry, Leibe,” you whispered, your voice breaking with emotion.

“Why? Why didn’t you tell them?” she questioned again.

“I wasn’t thinking. I needed … out. I needed to get away. And it was all so fast and …” your explanation trailed off, a weak defense against her justified questioning.

"That's not good enough, Schatz. They're your friends. Did you think they wouldn't care? Did you think they wouldn't help? I'm trying to understand," Lena's tone softened slightly.

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “I fucked up massively. And I have no explanation for any of it.”

Lena let out a frustrated sigh, her features creased with concern. “You can't run away from your problems, Schatz.”

“I know,” you said, the guilt weighing heavily on your heart. “And I promise I'll do better. I'll make things right, I swear.”

“Wirst du das tun, wenn wir jemals streiten? Wirst du auch einfach verschwinden?” Lena's voice trembled with uncertainty, her fear palpable.

“No, never,” you replied immediately, the sincerity in your voice echoing through the connection. “I won't ever leave you. I promise, Lena. I love you.” Lena scrutinised you for a moment, searching for truth in your eyes. Finally, a glimmer of hope flickered in hers.

“Okay ... just promise me you won't shut me out like that. We're supposed to be a team, remember?” Lena implored. You nodded earnestly. “And make this right with the team. You can’t leave like this, especially not with Ona and Alexia.”

Lucy's fury surged like a tidal wave, threatening to engulf her and everything around her. Never before had she felt such a consuming anger, a tempest of emotions raging within her. How dare you, she seethed inwardly, her clenched fists trembling with unrestrained fury. The words reverberated in her mind like a relentless echo, each syllable fuelling the fire of her indignation.

The betrayal cut deep, slicing through the bonds of trust with surgical precision. How could you drop that absolute bomb of information on the team and then just leave? The question echoed in Lucy's mind, a refrain of disbelief and betrayal. Her chest heaved with the unspoken words, the air thick with the tension of unresolved anger.

Every fibre of Lucy's being screamed for justice, for retribution against you, who had callously shattered their trust. The image of Ona’s face burned in her mind like a brand, a scar etched into her memory. She had looked so scared, so fragile and raw. But beneath the raging storm of anger, there lurked a profound sense of hurt, a painful vulnerability that threatened to consume her. How could you do that to everyone? Did they mean nothing to you? Did Ona mean so little to you? The wounds of betrayal ran deep. Lucy found herself adrift in a sea of conflicting emotions, struggling to make sense of the chaos that had engulfed their once-unified team. The anger burned hot and fierce, a relentless inferno that threatened to consume her from within.

The changing rooms didn’t hold their usual pre-session chatter. There wasn’t a loud, bright atmosphere as people greeted each other and slipped into their workout gear. There was no gentle undercurrent of excitement for the day. Instead, it was spookily silent. A few low murmurs were uttered here and there as people passed, but there was no conversation, no high-fives, or laughter.

You had arrived at training early, hoping to avoid any awkwardness. As you entered, the stillness was almost suffocating. Mariona was the only other person there, her cubby positioned directly opposite yours. You both went about your routines in an awkward dance of avoidance, her presence a constant reminder of the tension that now defined the space. Seeking refuge, you slipped into the bathroom, deliberately taking longer than usual. The routine tasks of washing your hands, tying back your hair, and applying suncream felt almost meditative, a brief respite from the silence that awaited you.

Moving like passing ships in the night, you and Mariona drifted around each other, the silence punctuated only by the rustle of clothes and the soft thud of locker doors.

“Entiendo,” Mariona said suddenly, breaking the silence. Her voice was calm but firm, and your head whipped up in surprise. Her words hit you with the force of a confession, their gravity making you feel like she had just admitted to something far more serious. “I understand … I’m terrified, and I’m leaving voluntarily.” The admission hung in the air, starkly contrasting the heavy silence from earlier. “I can’t imagine what it's like for you.” A lump formed in your throat as you struggled to find the right words.

"I didn’t mean to hurt anyone," you whispered, your voice barely audible. The weight of your words was palpable, each syllable a testament to the regret you felt.

Mariona’s eyes softened, but the tension remained. “Yo sé eso.” You nodded at her words. Your mouth opened to say more, but you were interrupted by the door swinging open and Irene, Marta and Caro walking through the door. You snapped your mouth shut, dipping your head down and turning back to face your locker.

The trio's arrival brought with it a fresh wave of awkwardness. Their conversation, though low and cautious, filled the room with an attempt at normalcy. You focused on your locker, trying to steady your breathing, feeling the weight of their glances. Irene, always perceptive, gave you a fleeting look of concern but said nothing. Marta and Caro exchanged glances, sensing the tension but unsure how to address it.

Slowly, the rest of the team trickled in. It was obvious that you would be participating in this session in silence. No one made a move to talk to you, to even greet you. Not until they had the all-clear from Alexia. You waited until you were one of the final few in the room. Turning, you caught sight of Ona and Lucy whispering in the corner. Ona’s face was still slightly puffy, her eyes still red as she picked at her nails. Lucy’s lips were pressed into a thin, hard line, the corners turned downward in a scowl, her eyes flicking in your direction occasionally. Her body was taut, every muscle seemingly coiled and ready to spring. Shoulders squared and rigid, she stood with a stance that was both defensive and confrontational. Her hands balled into tight fists and trembled slightly with the force of her suppressed rage. Her breath was measured as if she was struggling to maintain control and not let the anger consume her entirely. You hurried out of the room, rushing to leave the couple to their conversation.

The training session was one of the most awkward and painful things you had ever experienced. You stood quietly, tucked away at the end of the line, as Jona started the warmups. Trying to avoid drawing any attention to yourself, you focused intensely on the basics: placing one foot in front of the other, the rhythm of your breathing, the movement of your body. You hoped this would keep your mind occupied and distract you from the palpable tension around you.

When it came time for partner work, you found yourself lingering silently, waiting for a few uncomfortable moments before turning to the trainers. With an odd number of outfield players, someone had to be paired with one of the staff. Today, it seemed like that someone would be you. It wasn't the arrangement itself that bothered you; rather, it was the underlying implications. There was an air of exclusion that hung heavy in the atmosphere, making you feel like an outsider in what was supposed to be a team activity. The most unbearable part of it all was the not-so-subtle looks being thrown your way. It was clear that people were talking about you during the water breaks. Jana would frequently glance in your direction, only to be slapped on the arm by Pina as if reminding her to be discreet. Vicky appeared to take a tentative step toward you, possibly to offer some form of solidarity but was quickly redirected by Bruna, who nudged her in another direction. These interactions left you feeling isolated and self-conscious. Every whispered conversation, every sideways glance, seemed to amplify your sense of alienation. You could almost hear the silent judgments. This wasn't just a training session; it was a stark reminder of your outsider status, of how much damage you had done.

The scrimmage at the end was no better. Thankfully, Jona had made the teams for the final 7 v 7. Was it karma that he had placed you on the left wing with Lucy as the opposing right-back? Maybe. But you couldn’t deny that you deserved every shove, every tackle that she gave you. She seemed to be toeing the line between unprofessionalism carefully. She never left a lasting mark on you, but you could tell each push was personal.

As the exercise progressed, Lucy's aggression became more evident. She was relentless, pressing you harder than she did anyone else on the field. Each time she shouldered you off the ball or slid in with a perfectly timed tackle, you could feel the underlying animosity. It wasn’t just about winning the ball; it was about sending a message. If it were a normal day, a day when you hadn’t messed up so unbelievably badly, you would have shoved back or shouted a little. But you couldn’t do that. Today, you were paying for your mistakes, and Lucy was more than willing to collect.

So, you took it. Every time you were sent to the ground, you didn’t question it. You didn’t wait for the whistle to be blown or hope that someone would extend a hand to help you back up. Instead, you popped back up, shook yourself off, and continued like nothing was wrong like your whole life wasn't crumbling around you. Each time you hit the grass, the sting of the impact seemed to echo your emotional bruises. But you refused to show it. You forced yourself to remain strong. You could break down again later. You pushed through the scrimmage with grim determination, aware of the eyes on you, aware of the judgment, but unwilling to give anyone the satisfaction of seeing you break.

Despite the bruises and the rough treatment, you managed to stay on your feet more than you had thought you would do. You moved through the motions, running up and down the small pitch, crossing balls into the box, and tracking back on defence. But every action felt hollow, your mind a swirl of what-ifs and if-onlys. The final whistle came as a relief, yet also with a sense of dread. You knew the real battle was far from over. As Jona dismissed you for the day, you helped the trainers collect the equipment, hoping to delay your return and allow the others time to leave peacefully.

As you walked through the main doors back into the building, you noticed Alexia. Standing strong and unimpressed, leaning against the wall. You went to speak but thought better of it, nodding once and smiling uneasily instead. As you moved to walk past her, she stopped you, a warm hand wrapping around your wrist.

“Nosotras necesitamos hablar.” Her voice was sharp, a firmness that was hardly ever directed at you … not since the trouble from last year. You nodded, your voice unable to work.

You followed her through the maze of corridors until you reached a seldom-used meeting room. Was it a coincidence that it was the same room you had the meeting with the State Officials in and first told them about Lena? Maybe, but you wouldn’t put it past Alexia to have chosen it specifically. “Sentarse.” Her voice held a harshness to it that cut through you like a knife. You deserve this. You deserve this. You hurt her. You hurt everyone.

“Since you wanted to be treated like an adult, we will talk like adults.” You nodded. God, why couldn’t you speak? It wasn’t like you hadn’t been in trouble before. Maybe it was because this was such a personal mistake. When you hadn’t completed the forms on time, yes, it had been your fault as you were the person responsible, but there was a somewhat clear-cut way to fix it. It was laid out for you. But this … this was something you needed to navigate like an adult. No one was going to help you this time.

Alexia pointed to a chair, and she pulled out her own. “Explicar.” Her command was simple, really. But where could you begin? Where should you start? You were clearly taking too long. Alexia huffed, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow at you. You sank into the chair, feeling the weight of her gaze bearing down on you. How could you explain the mess you had made? The knots in your stomach tightened as you struggled to find the right words. Despite your best efforts, your breath quickened, and your fingers had a mind of their own as they started to pick at the dry skin around your nails.

"I... I don't … I don’t know … where to start," you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. Alexia's expression softened ever slightly, but her impatience was palpable. She had never seen you look so young. Even when you were in the hell that was the legal trouble last year, or the wide-eyed teen that turned up on her doorstep at the request of the club, with a single suitcase and a dream.

"Just start from the beginning," she urged, her tone imperceptively gentler now. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves.

“I got a phone call from Paul … my agent,” you swallowed, staring harshly into the table, refusing to meet Alexia’s eye or even look in her general direction. “He said he had just got back from a meeting with the club.” You stuck to the facts, no emotions, no elaborations, just facts. You couldn’t … wouldn’t … cry if you stuck to the simple facts. “He said they couldn’t afford to keep me next season.” You stopped.

It was clear to Alexia that that was as much as you could say about the situation without breaking. You were so similar in that way. Both of you refused to cry in front of someone else, not unless you were truly comfortable and perfectly safe around them. Did you not feel safe around her anymore? Had she broken your relationship? No, she stopped those thoughts in their tracks. You had broken the relationship, you, not her … then why did she feel like she was to blame, at least partially?

Alexia watched you carefully, her heart aching at the sight of your pain. She wanted to reach out ... to comfort you. No. She held herself back. She knew that now wasn't the time for softness, not when there were hard truths that needed to be faced. “What about Germany?” Her voice was still icy, cutting through the heavy silence like a knife. What about Germany? Germany was where Lena was. Germany was safe. Germany had Lena. You took another steadying breath, pushing down everything that was threatening to overwhelm you.

“Lena phoned me. She said either I went to her or she came to me. She had the Pokal final, so I went to her.” Another pause. “I needed to think. To breathe. To …” you trailed off. You let out a shaky breath, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“Todavía no entiendo.” She admitted after a moment. You nodded, biting your lip so hard that you started to taste blood. A tear plopped onto the wooden table in front of you, another one joining quickly afterwards. “Por qué … why didn’t you tell someone? Anyone?” Alexia's question pierced through the haze of your thoughts, demanding an answer you weren't sure you had. Why hadn’t you done that? You honestly had no explanation for it. You just needed out. Out of your house. Out of Barcelona. Out of Spain. Every time you looked at your phone, all the emotions came flooding back like a tsunami. So, you didn’t look.

“I don’t know,” you croaked, your voice barely audible over the sound of your own racing heartbeat.

“Eso no es lo suficientemente bueno.” Alexia's words were severe, a reminder that there would never be a good enough reason to justify your actions. You knew that. You knew that there would never be an excuse that could erase the hurt you had caused. You nodded. “Mírame,” she demanded after a moment. Your head remained down, but your eyes drifted up.

Alexia looked in pain. Not the physical pain – you had seen the uncomfortable look she had when she had tweaked her knee again or the scrunch of her eyebrows when an opposing player left her mark on her. This was different. This was emotional pain, etched into the lines of her face, shadowing the brightness of her eyes. As you watched her struggle to contain her emotions, the guilt pierced your heart tenfold. Your actions had caused her pain ... had shattered the fragile peace she had worked so hard to maintain. “Por qué no viniste a mí?” Once she asked that initial question, the floodgates opened. “No querías que te ayudara? I could have done something. I could have spoken to the club or something, anything. Em culpes?” She finished her sentence in Catalan. She thought you blamed her? You didn’t know what to say. The dam broke. Hot, fat tears rolled in a steady stream down your face.

“Never, Alexia. Never. I never, ever blamed you. I promise. It’s not your fault. It’s on me, it’s all on me. I’m not good enough for the club. For anyone. Of course, they want to renew you and Lucy over me. You deserve it so much more than me. This isn’t anyone’s fault but mine.” It was a mismatch of languages. Some sentences in English, some in Spanish and Catalan, and others in German. “I fucked up so badly. I don’t even know what I was thinking. I … I couldn’t ... I needed to … I don’t even know. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. You don’t deserve any of this. I fucked up so horrifically.” Alexia had never seen you so upset. It was clear she needed to intervene when she noticed your breathing quickening. You were hyperventilating now, apologies still streaming from your mouth. With a gentle hand, she reached out and placed it on your trembling shoulder. She didn’t think you even noticed it.

“Cariño. Breathe.” She instructed. Eventually, you slowed down, your breathing and heart rate returning to a more normal level. “Thank you for apologising,” she said when you had fully calmed down. “I’m not going to lie and say that I’m not hurt. And I’m not quite ready to forgive you. But I think there is more to this story than just you. You should not have been blindsided like that by the club. But your actions …” You nodded.

“I truly am sorry, Ale, um, Alexia.” You really wanted to hug her, but you knew you weren’t quite forgiven enough for that yet. She stood, offering a weak smile to you as she left the room, leaving you to your own thoughts.

I hope you enjoyed <3<3<3<3

[randomshyperson]

Sanctify - Cult Leader!Wanda Maximoff x Reader - Kinktober #06

Summary: After your worst semester at NYU, your Aunt Agatha convinces you to join the Children of Chaos as an alternative, and very expensive form of therapy. Leaving the cult becomes a very difficult task when you develop an unexpected affection for their leader.

Warnings: (+18), dom!wanda and brat!reader, rough smut, face-fucking, power dynamics, brat taming (ish), praising, lots of tension and teasing, definitely blasphemous on some levels, a lot of plot, mentions of past toxic relationship, unspecified age gap.  | Words: 7.900k

A/N-> I’ve been dying to write something about Cult Leader Wanda since I watched the second season of Yellowjackets and became obsessed with Lottie Matthews, so while writing this, I was picturing Lottie’s cult to be fair. I also like how I ended this, as it makes it possible to turn it into a series. Good reading!

General Masterlist | Kinktober Collection | AO3 | Wattpad

-&-

Although the movement of the car brought a gentle breeze through the window, the weather was hot enough to actually make thinking painful.  In an attempt to relieve the temperature a little, and perhaps escape Aunt Aggie's provocative reminiscences about the long journey and the events that made this trip necessary in the first place, you put your arm on the door, and propped your chin up, your face on the safety edge outside the window.

New York had been out of sight for hours and had given way to countless trees and a plantation further and further away. You figured it wouldn't take long for the radio signal to stop working, but to your pleasant surprise, the soft melody of cassette tapes hidden in the glove compartment by Nicholas were picked up once that happened.

Your cousin had grown up over the summer - His still youthful appearance now featured neatly cut curly hair and reading glasses that he often hung on the collar of his shirt. When younger, it was common to hear how much he resembled Sir. Scratch, his scumbag father in the words of Agatha and the other adults, not yours - but over time, he looked much more like his mother.

Nick met your gaze through the rearview mirror and gave you an assuring smile. You didn't reciprocate, but not because you were upset. Just because you were distracted by the huge sign coming around the next corner. 

"Oh, boy, I've missed this place." Agatha commented with a nostalgic sigh, as soon as she noticed the entrance plaque. She slowed down enough that the wind wasn't enough anymore, so you returned to your original position with a low snort.

"There's still time to turn around." You muttered, getting a warning look from the older woman.

She leaned over, without answering you, to grab something from the open glove compartment. You pushed your hair back as a pamphlet was dropped into your lap.

"I know you hated the idea, but you need to trust your elders for once in your life, darling." Agatha began, as you grimaced at the crumpled paper. The title Children of Chaos was painted in red, but it was faded in several places. "The 70s were the apex for this place, I had a lot of fun here. It's such a unique experience, connecting with nature and the chaos that is part of us all."

Nick chuckled through his nose. "Mom, don't start your witch thing again, you'll scare her." Mocked your cousin from the passenger seat, but Agatha waved him off.

"She'll thank me when she gets there, I'm sure." 

But you didn't do that. When the car finally came to a stop, and what looked more like a fancy farm merged with the forest took over your vision, all you did was crumple the Immersive Community pamphlet into your pocket and throw your old backpack over your shoulder.

Aunt Aggie and your cousin hugged you tightly, saying they were going to write, but they couldn't get past the reception desk since they weren’t part of the program. You saw Agatha take your mom’s borrowed credit card out of her purse to start your so-called treatment, and the last goodbyes left your tongue before one of the tutors started the tour of the place.

In between presenting a large number of different huts that served as dormitories and classrooms for the most diverse activities - painting, handicrafts or poetry were the ones you memorized - Mr. Emil Blonsky also took the time to welcome you, emphasizing how incredible the community was and how lucky anyone was to be there. You bit your tongue to keep from telling him that only those with money could.

Finally, Blonsky showed you the stables and greenhouses on the edge of the property, and on the way back to the rest of the huts, you noticed the path up the hill.

"And what's up there?" 

The man stopped walking with a small smile. He was wearing clothes very similar to those of the other people you'd seen on the tour, the difference being a golden necklace with a strange symbol that was hidden by the movement of his loosely buttoned shirt.

"We must not go up there without permission." He begins, although he's smiling, there's something in his gaze that says this rule cannot be disrespected. " The Prophetess' Retreat is a sacred place of peace and reflection." 

You look back at the hut at the bottom of the mountain, far enough away that you can't make out the decorations on the balcony, but still beautiful and quiet, high enough to make it look like the prophet had her own little piece of heaven.

"So, no bothering the boss without asking? Got it." You retort, getting a chuckle from the other at the summary. He starts walking again along the path towards the general area, but you can't help the curiosity burning in your chest. "About this prophet, will she be isolated up there or will I get a chance to meet her?"

Blonsky walks up beside you, and looks you in the eye to say; "You'll meet her when it's time to meet her, not early and not late."

You don't know what to say to that, everything here is so theatrical in a way. Mystical, you might say. It suits Aunt Aggie so well, that it's not hard to imagine her here, dancing to the midnight moon and talking to the trees. She already does that in New York, it should have been much simpler in the middle of the forest.

"Come, child. You must start the cleaning process soon." Announces the man as he picks up the pace on the trail. With a sigh, you decide not to contradict him by saying that you bathed before coming, thank you. 

It was soon revealed that the cleansing process really meant a bath - the colleagues around you who helped you laughed when you joked that it was a strange way of saying that someone stinks, before clarifying that it was nothing of the sort. The Cleansing Process was a bath of salts and herbs, in a tub of stones and some kind of botanical baptism, the latter of which only members who had completed thirteen full moons could take part in. You would be invited to the baptism with the prophet's blessing, but there was still a long way to go.

Blonsky handed your uniforms, and explained the last rules before leaving you alone, or almost, since your hut was shared with six other people, and despite this, it seemed very comfortable and organized. There were bunk beds and private bathroom spaces, and at least three spacious shelves for each. The latter wouldn't be of much use to you, since you'd brought almost nothing and the vast majority of your belongings had been left at NYU. Just thinking about that place gave you a terrible stomach ache: You would have skipped dinner, but the mere suggestion of not attending made one of your colleagues frown in concern and repeat the rules, so you ended up giving that up.

The routine that followed was calm: it didn't surprise you that the new members were responsible for the hardest tasks, and it didn't bother you either. You were never afraid of hard work, and keeping your hands busy also helped to calm your mind, so it was a win-win. Besides, even if you didn't get the jobs nobody wanted, all veterans had chores. There was some rule about the amount of service time and dedication being rewarded, so those senior members could choose what they wanted to do first. 

You didn't have to worry about this anyway: you would do what you had to do because, after all, the agreement was to stay here only for the summer. However, with each passing day away from exams, traffic, and New York's typical filth, it became harder to imagine leaving the Children of Chaos and their strange harmony and kindness.

After three weeks in the group, you learned to knit. You also earned the privilege of mail when you showed up for all your appointments without delay and decided to check the items in the privacy of your cabin during the last hour of prayer.

Since you hadn't yet found your faith or received your calling or whatever weird way Blonsky explained this, you barely joined in the prayer sessions. This evening, excited to receive news from home, was no different.

Aunt Aggie wrote about the store doing well and mentioned your mother, who didn't write to you with more than vague words about hoping you'd feel better soon. The best present was hidden in Nicholas' letter about the university being a sack without his favorite cousin. Wrapped in silk and next to a lighter.

You haven't earned the right to write outside yet - something about a month in isolation to accomplish. So you just clutched the items to your chest and wished your cousin knew how grateful you were.

Your initial intention was to save the weed for some more stressful day - which was rare in the leisurely pace of this place - but the last letter made you consider using it all that night.

The recipient's perfect handwriting, and the address you knew by heart. You didn't even open the item, you put it away in your drawer and stood up with the weed hidden in your pants pocket.

The common area was empty, as the vast majority of your colleagues were praying. You stepped up to one of the bonfires and threw the unopened letter into the flames, without hesitation and without caring to see it burn. You turned on your heels and continued along the trail, heading for one of the few more secluded spots you had discovered during the hours of exploring between tasks.

The rules were clear about the prophet's hut but said nothing about the road towards it. And since apparently everyone there was afraid of upsetting the boss, that spot was always empty and the perfect place to smoke in hiding.

You leaned against a tree, curled up and lit the weed, and tried to keep away all the painful memories about last semester that the damn letter had brought up.

You were halfway through a joint when you heard a voice at the end of the trail next to you.

"Good evening, Y/N."

"Jesus fucking Christ." You gasped, jumping with fright and almost dropping the blunt to the ground. You looked sideways abruptly, imagining that you were hallucinating because of the weed, and were almost sure that you were when the words escaped you due to the apparition in front of you. The most beautiful woman you've ever seen in your life. Instead of a uniform, she wore a loose dark wine dress that hugged her curves perfectly; her long red hair cascaded down her shoulders and back and her emerald eyes shone curiously in your direction. The dim light from the fire lamps scattered along the trail and the moon really made the woman look like an angel. 

You coughed awkwardly. "Sorry, you scared me." You clarified, the cigarette hidden behind your back a stupid attempt to mask what you were doing. Sure enough, your pupils were dilated, and it was very easy to see the smoke. So, as soon as you tried to hide it, you gave up, offering the woman an awkward chuckle and gesturing the cigarette gently. "Don't tell on me."

There was a soft pause, which you couldn't tell from the intoxication in your system. The woman watched for a moment as the charming gesture of bringing the cigarette to the smile formed on your lips and blew the smoke into the starry sky with your neck slightly stretched. Your mind seemed to clear, and before the woman could speak, you grimaced. "Wait, didn't you just say my name? How..?"

She smiled, folding her hands in front of her body. "It was premeditated that we met today, of course. I'm Wanda."

You've heard her name before, in conversation circles and in advertisements about her heavenliness hanging around. 

"Shit." It was your natural reaction, which made her laugh softly, and it must have been the weed's fault that the sound echoed in your mind and made your body shudder.

"Don't worry, I won't snitch on you." She assures you with an easy smile playing on her lips, and you swallow dry, completely at a loss.

"Thanks... but I thought you were the boss." You mumble, and Wanda makes a funny expression, like a false realization. 

"Oh, you're right." She murmurs amusedly. "I think I can let this one slide if you'll share it with me." 

"Fuck, of course, here." Your limbs feel strange, almost too heavy to move around her. You awkwardly hand her the cigarette, certain that your face is flushed. Hell, the last time you were this clumsy was last semester, with-

"You swear a lot." Wanda's comment pulls you out of your daze. She takes a long drag before adding: "Especially for a Christian."

You chuckle, shaking your head. "My father's a Christian, not me." You retort, and end up grimacing. "And how do you know-"

"This is a very exclusive program, sweetheart." Wanda cuts you off again, the cigarette between her fingers but her gaze is completely focused on your face. "Having a lot of money or being someone's niece isn't enough to guarantee you a spot, but a good letter of recommendation might. And Agatha wrote me almost everything about you, except the reason for rushing to get you here before the next recruitment period."

The sentence was an invitation for you to speak, but you didn't fall for the bait. On the contrary, you looked away with tense shoulders, and Wanda didn't press. At least, not now. She took another drag before commenting more softly:

"We have general meetings every Wednesday. We encourage members to open up." 

You grimace softly. "Group therapy isn't my thing."

But Wanda smiles lopsidedly, giving you back the joint. " Neither is nice weed." She retorts a little provocatively, attracting your attention. "If you want to try something new, show up next week. And if you want to try something good, you should try the weed from our greenhouse. It won't taste like crushed dirt." Adjusting her hair around her shoulders, she offers you a wink. "Have a good night, darling."

You think about the color of her eyes for the rest of the night.

-&-

Sooner than you'd expect, you'll discover that Wanda isn't the type to let things slide. Far from it, she notices everything, especially those who are being too slack and prone to not following the teachings of the Children of Chaos, possibly ruining their record of total efficiency or something.

She puts an end to your plans for a quiet summer, trying to go unnoticed among the countless other followers just as abruptly as she left her meditation hut. Wanda seems to appear at every moment that you consider escaping from your commitments - it even occurs to you that she has a particular interest in watching you, but the idea sounds so absurd that you push it away while forcing a polite smile before returning to your duties.

Less than two weeks after you met, you finally stopped avoiding Group Therapy and showed up on time to join the session. The presence of Wanda, in a loose dark purple dress and her red hair tied up in a neat braid, makes you almost give up, convinced that you couldn't say anything without stuttering in the presence of such a stunning woman.

But she offers a gentle smile, opening her arms softly. "Come along, darling, you're just in time." She greets and you stumble towards a corner in the background, begging the gods that you can attend in silence this time.

It doesn't seem so difficult when it's other people doing it. A young man with whom you've already shared the task of looking after the stables spoke of the frustrations of returning from enforced service with a missing limb, and how the support he didn't get from the government and family members, he found here. Bucky received a finger-snapping applause - something that was explained to you as a way to avoid triggers on the countless ex-combatants or victims of post-traumatic stress that make up the crowd - before giving his turn to another ex-military woman, Carol Danvers.

More stories were shared until Wanda's gaze fell on your slumped figure and she called your name. All the attention in the room fell on you too, and you chuckled awkwardly.

"Thanks, but I'm not good at public speaking." You retorted, but Wanda, with her hands folded over her stomach, gave you a gentle smile.

"Don't worry about it, dear, this is a no-judgment zone." She says, but you make no mention of getting up, and her gaze becomes more insistent. "It's important that we all make an effort to be present at these exercises. We encourage participation around here. Come along, dear, please." And she smiled so kindly that you could only trust her.

The group offered a small chorus of encouragement, and before you knew it, you were a few steps away from the redhead, who held out her hands for your wrists.

"I want you to take a deep breath and close your eyes." Wanda guided, her melodic voice bringing goose bumps all over your body. "Turn all your attention inward. And tell me, is there anything in there that you'd like to share with the group?"

The memories of last semester hit you full force. But Wanda massages your wrists and it feels as if she can calm down the whole storm inside of you.

You sigh, before opening your eyes. "I... I don't know where to start." Your whisper is met by another chorus of support from the members, who retort that you're safe. Wanda releases your wrists to sit with the others, and you try not to be so self-conscious while you're in the spotlight. "I think I can share with you the reason why I'm here." You declare a moment later, taking another deep breath.

Bucky gives you an encouraging smile, mimicking that of the people around him, and you swallow.

"I don't have a history of fighting and overcoming war or any illnesses, so I'm sorry to disappoint anyone." You mumble, receiving confused looks.

The former sergeant assures you: "No problem competes with another. All our pains have their importance." And it seems to be something that has already been repeated here a few times because everyone shakes their heads in agreement.

You scratch the back of your head awkwardly. "Right... well, I won't beat around the bush. A month ago, when I was first enrolled here, I had just been kicked out of my house. Well, it wasn't exactly my house anymore, because I'd been living on campus for about three years, but I think you get the idea." You say, laughing awkwardly at the anxiety in your chest. You try to clear your throat so that your voice doesn't come out so shaky, but only Wanda's gaze really helps to calm your nerves. "And the reason for this was a relationship that my parents, more specifically my mother, didn't approve of. To be fair, no one really approved, because, well, the person... hm, I don't think there's any other way to put it, was another woman. An older woman, and also my professor. And well, the whole thing would have been a scandal anyway, but I really let myself believe that when the worst was over, we'd be fine. Bad news, we weren't." You laugh sadly. You pause, imagining that you'll get judgmental looks, but everyone listens attentively. "For a while, I thought the worst part was afterward. When everyone knew and judged me, and how my mother freaked out, and I tried... but no. The worst part was not realizing what that love if I can call it that, was doing to me. How ill it was making me. And until I got here, learned things about myself, and managed to take a break from everything that was left behind... For a while, I really hoped to go back and fix everything, but now... damn, sometimes I don't even think about leaving this place."

The group celebrates quietly, exchanging words of encouragement. Your ears feel warm, and Wanda stands up again. "You can stay as long as you need, darling." She says, massaging your forearm. She calls someone else to speak, but doesn't miss the opportunity to whisper in your ear: "I'm proud, stay a little longer today, I want to talk to you." 

And you think you haven't absorbed anything for the rest of the morning.

Eventually, the session ends, and as soon as the room is empty, Wanda turns her face towards you.

"You were brave today, sweetheart." 

Your hands, busy putting the cushions away, tremble a little. But you offer her an incredulous chuckle.

"Yeah, right." It's your answer, which makes Wanda frown in curiosity. At her inquisitive silence, you sigh before clarifying: "Everyone's nice, but I know it's kind of silly that my big trauma is a break-up and not post-traumatic stress from war or something that actually matters."

Wanda presses her lips together, studying you for a moment, and you take the opportunity to put away the last of the cushions. Suddenly, she says:

"This lack of respect for your own feelings comes from parental negligence, I suppose."  You turn your face away in surprise, but Wanda gives you a small smile: "James wasn't lying when he said that no pain should compete with another. We all have our internal and external battles, and we shouldn't belittle our pain. I believe we should honor it, and wear it. And here, dear, you will learn to do that." Wanda makes her way around to one of the cupboards at the back, and you watch her movements in silence, from reaching into one of the last drawers to returning to you with an item in hand. "I have an invitation for you."

She opens the box she's brought, and inside is a necklace very similar to the one the instructors wear. The main difference is the symbol, the crown that Wanda also carries on the pendant around her neck. You frown in confusion.

"What is it?"

She wraps the item between her fingers, her gaze on you. "The disciple's necklace. The last one from the current solstice." 

You imitate the gesture, touching the item with the tips of your fingers. Wanda doesn't move her hand away as your fingers brush together, and you ignore your own shyness as you watch her bite her lip for a moment. "I don't understand what it means."

She licks her lips, and the movement doesn't go unnoticed by your eyes. "It means that you would be my apprentice. You would accompany me during periods of meditation, you would study my teachings closely, you would be... entirely dedicated to..."

"You?" you add, and Wanda lets out a shuddering breath, warm against your cheek. When did she get so close?

"If you wish." She whispers, and you pull away gently, your face hot but the last thread of sanity in your mind.

"I'm sure there are more experienced members dying for this position. It wouldn't be right-"

Wanda shakes her head, interrupting you. "They weren't chosen. You were." She assures you, pressing the box with the necklace against your chest. "And if it wasn't you, the place would be empty until the next solstice. You don't have to accept it, darling. It's not a summons. It's an invitation."

You sigh, holding the box against your chest. "I just... I've never done anything like this. I don't want to mess things up."

There's a bell in the distance, signaling the start of the next activities. Wanda glances outside briefly before stepping close enough to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth that makes your whole body heat up at once.

"Just listen to your instincts." She whispers, before pulling away with a small smile.

You write to Agatha about it the following evening, but you don't have the courage to seal the letter for sending. The whole conversation with Wanda seems too private to be shared in this way. 

Although the woman said it was just an invitation, you could feel some pressure to make a decision, and it seems that the news had been circulating ever since one of the tutors couldn't find the box of the last chaos disciple pendant, and Wanda ended up mentioning that she had extended another invitation.

In a way, you were stalling. Between your activities and meetings, you hadn't made any decisions and you hoped that the end of the summer would force Wanda to choose someone else. But there was also the question of the new, burning feelings that had appeared since you first laid eyes on her, and which seemed to awaken every time you two were in the same environment. 

The idea of departing, of leaving her behind like a closed chapter in your life, seemed absurd every passing day.

In your second month with the Chaos Children, you received a rather unusual request: take the prophet her morning drink.

The crumpled piece of paper was handed to you by one of your cabin mates: Kate Bishop. A former student, a little younger than you, who, after destroying a bell at the university, was sent here by her millionaire mother. Kate was to stay until she had balanced her irresponsible impulses and could take over the family's security empire.

She seemed a little reluctant to interrupt your concentration on cleaning the garden, but much more determined not to disappoint Wanda.

"Just give it to the kitchen staff, they'll know what to do. And prioritize, she doesn't like to wait." Said the girl, but you gave her hand a gentle tug before taking the paper.

"But why did she ask me?" you asked, but Kate had no idea and just shrugged before leaving the garden.

While the kitchen staff prepared the item, you tried to improve your appearance in the bathroom next to the lounge, wiping all the soil from the plants from under your fingers, and even what had run into your cheeks. 

When you came out, there was another order on the counter and a small group of people who hadn't been there before. They didn't see you. Blonsky, accompanied by two other women you didn't know, were talking to each other.

"I bet it was Carter. She hasn't stopped talking about her private piano lessons with the Prophetess for four whole weeks." Said the first, but the other laughed quietly.

" Sharoon is a simp, that's all. Wanda wouldn't choose her after the episode with Rogers last year, she knows she can't trust her." Rebutted the other. "Besides, I would have assumed it was Bishop, after all, she already acts like a maid. Why train another when you already have one so dedicated?" The women laugh amongst themselves until they finally notice you approaching, and fall silent. Blonsky smiles, but he appears very vicious. 

"Hello, miss. Wouldn't you like to have a say in who our next disciple is?" He asks you, but you shrug, moving forward in the queue in front of the canteen to grab the prophet's items that were clearly being prepared in priority. 

"I don't know anything about it." That's your answer, but the shorter woman gets in your way.

"Come on, dear, it's easy." She begins with a giggle. "Every solstice, the prophetess chooses her disciples. There are 24 of them, 12 of whom will become apostles after their apprenticeship."

You grimace softly. "It's very biblical."

Blonsky chuckles. "Of course, it is, despite the multiculturalism of our group, Wanda was raised in a Jewish Christian home. You're not going to tell me you didn't know that?"

You clear your throat. "Not really. Sorry, I have to run."

But the man puts a hand in your way, only to stretch his body out on the counter and reach for some colored leaves that he crushes and drops into Wanda's glass.

"She likes it this way. I would know, I prepared many when I was her houseboy for the first few weeks here." He says, and you swallow dry, mumbling an awkward thank you before hurrying off.

The path is a little tiring, you think it makes sense of Wanda's physique if she had to climb that trail every day, and you mentally curse yourself for thinking about her body. It's not at all appropriate, honestly.

The door is open, but you knock anyway. The woman inside, wearing her typical long, loose dresses at the edge, is busy finishing a loose fringe in her hair and offers you a smile.

"Come in, dear." 

You do so a little awkwardly, almost overwhelmed by the moment of entering the most private place in the whole camp. It's a beautiful cabin, you let her know, without stopping to admire the perfectly arranged surroundings. You would have thought that the privacy of this place would allow her to make some kind of personal mess, but everything is impeccably in place.

Wanda approaches to pick up the items, and the smile falters on her face at the first sip of her drink.

"Did you put... did you put maca root in this?" She asks, and your natural reaction is a short laugh.

"I didn't prepare it, Wanda."

But she doesn't smile again, her tone of voice remains the same but her attitude changes to one of false kindness. "My morning drink is an ashwagandha. I need my concentration to increase, not my libido." It really sounded like a scolding, and her attitude of handing the cup back to you, accompanied by the memory of the recent events, made your blood boil.

"Well, I'm not your fucking maid, so if it's not good, get another one downstairs, or even better, make it one yourself."

It's the first time you see any kind of fury in her gaze, hot and vibrant, and it makes something in you rouse. Your mention of leaving the cabin is prevented by her hands closing the door and trapping you against the wood.

Wanda takes a deep breath, and the gleam in her eyes changes. "Can I ask... where did this attitude come from?"

You hold the glass tightly against your body, very aware that you'll drop it if Wanda doesn't step away and let you breathe. "I just want to make things clear." You retort with a seriousness that doesn't do justice to the way your heart is racing. "I didn't come to this place to be your personal servant."

Wanda chuckles briefly, letting her gaze drop to your mouth. "Oh, of course not, darling." She whispers. "You're not the type to follow orders willingly. You'd do a terrible job."

Swallowing dryly, you retort: "And why am I here then?"

Wanda smiles innocently. "I asked you to bring my drink." It's her reply, clearly trying to tease you, and you snort impatiently.

"I bet you expected an answer. Well, I haven't made up my mind yet, so if there's nothing else, I'll just go."

Wanda moves to take the glass from you and put it on the table by the door. The next second, her hands are in yours.

"Don't be silly, of course, there's another reason." She retorts, pulling you along as she walks backward into the cabin. "I hear you love painting."

What you had assumed was her personal painting canvas is offered to you. The laugh that escapes you is shy and genuine.

"Wanda, I don't... paint anymore."

But she doesn't flinch, her hands still in yours. "I know you haven't since last semester. It was in the letter. But you've progressed so much, that I thought you could paint for me." When you don't answer, she makes such an adorable expression that your heart skips a beat. "Please?"

Wanda definitely knows how beautiful she is, and how those puppy-dog eyes can take her anywhere. You bite back a smile, agreeing, and almost forget to breathe when she jumps excitedly onto your neck, hugging it for a whole moment before letting go as if she hadn't turned you into a complete mess with one touch.

She doesn't complain about the cocktail again - instead, she drinks it entirely while you get comfortable on the painting stool, doodling for a few moments before starting to paint the only thing you could after so many months without touching a paintbrush.

It's only when the drawing is clearer on the frame that Wanda becomes restless again. Loud sighs take your attention away from the painting and towards her.

"Is something wrong?"

She smiles half-heartedly, and only now do you notice the soft color of her cheeks. "I shouldn't have ignored my own complaints and drunk that juice."

You frown in confusion, letting the brush rest next to the paints. "Was it that bad? If you want, I'll complain to the kitchen-"

Wanda chuckles, shaking her head and you have to shut up because she reaches over to push the canvas out of the way and stops right in front of you, close enough to touch.

"Remember what I said? About focus and about... my libido." She asks, and you can swallow dryly, looking up in the direction of her dilated eyes. She lets her hands rest on your shoulders, pressing the weight of her body gently into yours. "Well, I suppose you'll have to see for yourself. Hold out your hand sweetheart, no, no, down... yes, you can move my dress out of the way." Your trembling fingers brushed against her knee, and immediately obeyed the order. Slowly making your way under her dress, while Wanda bit her lip and watched you draw patterns on her thighs. Finally, your fingers reached the side of her underwear. Instead of pulling it down, you let the inks drop to the ground, and your other hand went under her dress too, repeating the same path as before while you and Wanda panted together. Your face fell forward, flush into her dress, and you pressed your nose against her, inhaling deeply the scent of arousal she exhaled so strongly.

Her hands squeezed your shoulders as yours began to pull down her panties right away. A moment later, gracefully as everything so far, she kicked the item aside and spread her legs gently so that you could slide your fingers between more easily.

You looked up the second your index finger met her warmth, gasping at the mischievous smile of the woman in front of you.

"All this time I've been here..." You started hoarsely, your fingers spreading the wetness between her folds, and enjoying the way Wanda's breath caught in her throat. "Were you this wet?" 

Despite the failure of her own breathing, and the way it's harder to stand up with your intimate stimulation, Wanda gives you a mischievous look and leans her forehead against yours, her red hair making a curtain between your faces. 

"I get like this every time I'm around you." She confesses, giving you a provocative tug on your lower lip that forces you to thrust inside her with more determination. Almost enough for her to lose her pose. Almost. "It's disconcerting, to be honest."

Your thumb presses down firmly on her clit, and Wanda almost buckles into you, the delicious sound that escapes her throat will be in your dreams for sure. "Well, should I apologize, high sanctity?"

She chuckles at the teasing hidden in the nickname, before leaning in completely and capturing your mouth in a fervent kiss that takes you out of orbit for a whole moment, intense enough for you to whimper into her tongue, and force her hips down into yours, practically begging her to grind your lap. Wanda's response to this is a dirty giggle mixed with a moan into your mouth.

Without breaking the kiss that turns into a much hungrier one the next second, you get to your feet, adjusting your hands to grab her thighs to pull her onto your lap and carry her around the room. Between stumbles, you press each other against the various surfaces of the room, tables, and cupboards, exchanging increasingly hot and desperate kisses, and you're pretty sure you're going to have Wanda against the bookshelf if she keeps grinding into your abdomen like that.

In a pause for breath, when she's still wedged between you and the bookcase, your mouth descends on her jaw and Wanda struggles to keep her eyes open. She whimpers shamelessly as your curious hands advance down her body, pulling her dress out of the way and leaving it barely hanging off her body for you to clasp your palms over her now-bare breasts.

Her patience for release is quickly exhausted by the precise stimulation of her breasts, your eager fingers teasing and pinching her nipples until you turn her into a whimpering mess. She gives a determined tug on the hair at the nape of your neck, forcing your face back to hers in a hard, dirty kiss that makes you shudder. She breaks it only to give an order: 

"On your knees." And you groan in obedience, falling to the floor almost at once, desperately pulling her dress aside to force your face into her, now with nothing in the way. Wanda arches her back once your hot mouth finds her drenched cunt; her hands desperate for some kind of support on the shelves behind her, while her chest heaves and her hips are restless against your face. 

Your hungry mouth leisurely devours her, your tongue teasing her folds, spreading her wetness around and making a mess on your face. Your closed eyes show your dedication and surrender to the task, but Wanda tugs at your hair again, trying to gain a little control back and order you to quit the teasing and fuck her the way she needs you to. Fully dilated Irises then confronts her from between her legs, and Wanda loses her breath. 

"Beautiful." She panted, staring back, shamelessly grinding herself into your face. "So beautiful... fuck... on your knees for me... oh, God, detka." She struggles to compliment you, but her native language begins to escape mixed with English shortly afterward, her climax approaching. You moan contentedly at the scene, aware of the state of your own underwear from all this play. Wanda's body begins to betray her, trying to pull away so you grab her thighs with a strong grip, and one of her legs ends up over your shoulder, increasing your reach just the way she needs it to fall over the edge.

Wanda comes on your tongue, spasming against the books, and in a deep moan. You don't let her pull away, keeping her restless hips in place as you lick your way through her previous climax in search of a new one. Soon her whimpering protests at the overstimulation turn into begging, and you fail to hide the smug smile at feeling her so at your mercy for a second time.

She's so close, so close, that the Sokovian comes back to her tongue, but there's a sudden knock on the door, and all the stimulation is interrupted by your fright. Wanda gasps incredulously, losing the time to react in time due to her own lust, and having to watch you stumble away - quickly wiping her cum from your chin with the back of your hand - as she tries not to fall down on her shaking knees.

"Why the fuck did you stop?" she asks in frustration through her teeth, but you, with a very flushed face, look at her with a certain desperation.

"Wanda, there's someone at the door!" You retort as if it were a very justifiable reason to steal an orgasm from her. Wanda huffs angrily, lunging at you and ignoring your confused eyes to pull you upright by the collar of your shirt, hurriedly throwing you onto the mattress. "W-wanda, what?"

"Quiet." She cuts in, pushing your shoulders until you're lying down and following the movement of your body to straddle your lap. The person outside knocks again, and although she's pulling her off, and is still shaking from her last orgasm, Wanda manages to speak in the same tone of voice as she does every morning meeting: "What is it?"

Your protests are muffled when Wanda sits on your face, and in fact, you would have forgotten any guests if Blonsky's voice hadn't sounded in the next second.

"Good morning, Reverend, I've come to join you for today's service." Says the man, but Wanda has to bite her lip hard because you're eating her out again, somehow even better than before. "Reverend?"

Wanda shakes her head, frowning at the difficulty of maintaining a rational thought when she has your tongue inside her. "Hm, I'm not going today, Blonsky... Deliver the service in my place." She fails to sound so breathless and has to close her eyes when your hands grip her thighs tightly, holding her down. 

Blonsky then sounds concerned: "Aren't you feeling well, Reverence?"

Your nose nuzzles into her clit and Wanda reaches for the headboard, a satisfied sigh escaping her. "I feel great." She murmurs back and has to take a deep breath so that the next sound that escapes her isn't a moan. "Just busy. Anything else, Blonsky?"

The man clears his throat, Wanda has to press a hand against her own mouth as you reach another right spot. 

"Hm, yes, Reverend... As you know, the deadline for the selection of the disciple is coming to an end." He begins, luckily unable to hear the muffled sighs inside the room through the closed door. "I have expressed my concerns to Your Reverence about a premature choice of new members-"

Wanda snorts impatiently. "Are you really going to question my choices again, Blonsky?"

"N-no, reverend!" He defends himself quickly. "Never. I just worry that the... affinity, that Your Reverence has acquired for some new members, might affect your judgment about their vocations. The premature choice of a disciple could result in their departure from our community, and we know how the withdrawal of one of our own affects everyone..."

"Don't worry about it." Wanda cuts dry, and now, she's remarkably close to climaxing. She doesn't care about the roughness, she thrusts her hips frantically into your face, muffling your breathless moans. "Y/N is the best choice... she's... so-god... dedicated and-hm... talented-" Wanda's lucky you're quick to react too. She would have screamed to the ceiling, exposing all the inappropriate activities in the room if you hadn't grabbed her thighs and spun her on her back onto the mattress. She didn't have time to lose this orgasm by the brief interruption of your movements - your fingers took the place of your tongue when you hovered above her, and your free hand covered her mouth when you sank inside her again.

Wanda came harder than before, squeezing your fingers and wetting the bed. She clings to your body in a desperate grasp, shocked by the achievement over her body, and grateful for the muffling of her moans. You keep thrusting until she stops squirting on the sheets.

You only remember that Blonsky is still outside because he speaks again. "I'll take your word for it, Your Reverence. And I hope you've made a good choice." He says at last, the sound of his footsteps moving away is ignored by you and Wanda, who meet in a hot kiss in the next second.

Your fingers continue to thrust lightly inside her, even though Wanda shudders from the excessive stimulation. And despite this, she also controls the kiss, which slows down so that she can ask in between: "Tell me, love. Did I do it? A good choice."

You kiss her a little harder. "I still don't know... what I want... or what I should do, Wanda."

She brings one of her hands up to your wrist, stopping your movements. You open your eyes to look at her. Wanda smiles, but her eyes are very mischievous. "You think too hard when the answer is right here." She retorts, giving your hand a gentle tug. You follow her lead, and soon, you have your drenched fingers with her cum inside your mouth. Your hips move instinctively, pressing down on her, and Wanda giggles mischievously, her free hand trailing down your back to encourage the movement. "Don't you want that, baby? You can be all mine."

You suck your fingerprints clean, removing them from your mouth to support yourself on the mattress now that you're so wildly grinding your hips against Wanda's thigh. She doesn't let you indulge in the sensation, grabbing your cheek and stopping your hips with the other at your silence.

Your soft protest is ignored, and your voice is almost a pathetic plea when it comes out. "It's not fair... I was feeling so good."

"Oh, darling, I can make you feel even better, every day if you decide to stay with me." She retorts, her grip softening on your cheek. You look at her, but there is still hesitation in your gaze and Wanda wishes to replace this doubt with something else. She kisses you but pulls away when you go to increase the intensity, ignoring your protest and pushing you gently away by the shoulders. "No playing, until I have an answer."

Wanda flees - because she doesn't think she'll live up to her words if she is under you - and slips out of bed before you can grab her back. Your next long protest is muffled against the mattress because you press your face down.

Wanda giggles half-heartedly as she stands up, reaches for her dress, and tries to adjust her appearance a little. "Thank you for the sex, sweetheart, it was a very pleasant surprise, but I can't let Blonsky lead a communion, he's not good at it. And you have errands, so if you'll excuse me..." Your silence made Wanda, now dressed, look at the bed again. To her surprise, you were sitting on the mattress, hanging something around your neck. 

Your gaze met hers as the disciple chain was secure on your skin. The mischief in your gaze made her swallow. Twirling the symbol between your fingers, you smiled as you asked: "So how does this work? Should I confess my sins so that you can forgive me?"

"God offers forgiveness, not me." Wanda whispers back, brazenly watching you start to unbutton your shirt, the necklace hanging in the valley of your breasts is doing things to her. 

"Hm, since I'm going to be forgiven, maybe I can sin a little more..." Wanda moved on instinct, crawling onto the bed to meet you halfway like a magnet being drawn towards you.

Your foreheads touched, and she sighed against your lips. "I should punish you for this blasphemy." She says, to which you smile naughtily before sticking out your tongue to tease her lips, eliciting a low moan from her.

"Promise?" You challenge, and Wanda gets tired of wasting time.

[cheriladycl01]

Hey! Your fics are amazing. I couldn't see if you were taking requests but if you are would you be comfortable writing a Pierre Gasly x Leclerc!Reader maybe where the reader is obviously a Leclerc sibling and has known Pierre for years and have also been dating for years and the brothers find out and are not happy about it.

Thank you and keep up the amazing writing!

🐨

You are royally fucked - Pierre Gasly x Leclerc! Reader

Plot: Y/N Leclerc grew up attached to her brothers, being a twin to Arthur and looking up to Charles and Lorenzo meant that you'd always been extremely close to your brothers and you travelled round the world with two of them as much as you could, but your brothers weren't the only reason why you attended races when you got older.

A/N: Thank you so much for this request! Sorry it took me a while to get round to it!

You'd know Pierre since 2010 when you and Arthur followed Charles to karting. Arthur was obsessed as much as his older brother over cars and so all three would kart.

You and Arthur were in the same division but still followed Charles to the higher levels too see him perform which is how you met Pierre.

You were 10 and he was 14, just a kid where you had a crush on your older brothers friend.

It was stupid and went away with time as Pierre was just someone kind to you when you were around your brothers. You saw him every race weekend. You'd bring him cookies you'd baked and he'd bring you a charm for your bracelet which he got you another one off on your 13th birthday as there were too many.

As you got older karting yourself became less and less of an interest and you only would show up to watch your bothers. Arthur continued on like Charles through the feeder series.

But as Charles progressed he became more and more absent. You weren't allowed to travel across the world with Charles unless your parents or Lorenzo were there too look after you, and you started to miss your brother more and more until it took a toll on you.

You started acting up, not going to school and it put a strain on your relationships with all of your family.

Charles wasn't around enough to see it but the rest of your family did.

When Charles finally got to F2, your mum promised you could go more, and it was great until your dad got sick and he couldn't travel anymore.

You were angry, not at anyone in particular but at the world for everything it was throwing at you. And you tried to run away, you ended up outside the casino in Monte Carlo, lost and upset.

It was actually Lewis Hamilton who found you, he couldn't comprehend why this 16 year old girl was alone in the streets of Monaco. You guys talked for ages and he convinced you to go home, you parents were so angry with you they grounded you and you were banned from going to any of Charles races.

Then your dad passed away, and you were devastated and were even more angry. You were 16 and had so much hate for the world, Arthur, Lorenzo and Pascale had no idea what to do with you. So they sent you to boarding school for a year until you were 18 and could make up your own mind.

While you were there you clicked with a group of people who all were influencers of some sort, and having Charles as a brother and him being announced into F1 for 2018 it wasn't hard to accumulate a following.

You stayed in the UK until you were 21, all you friends from boarding school went to university so you decided you'd stay with them and get a degree. Despite missing lots of school you were actually a very smart girl and had excellent grades.

Once you were 18, Arthur started to invite you to more of his races. And Lorenzo and your mum were always asking for you to come home... but your Charlie still hadn't realized everything you'd been through.

It wasn't until his 24rd birthday you saw Charlie properly. He noticed how different you were, you weren't the 16 year old he left all those years ago. He just pulled you into a massive hug and it didn't seem like the time to unload everything on him.

You saw Lewis that night, and he recognized you right away coming over and laughing about how he didn't think you'd end up being his competitions little sister when he helped you out all those years ago.

Then, you saw him ...

Pierre and that was night everything changed.

"Pierre?" you asked looking over the taller male, smiling softly not having seen his face in person for a while.

"Y/N?" he asks in shock, cocking his head to the side.

"The one and only" you grin and he just stares, still shell shocked about your presence.

"I haven't seen you for years!" he says pulling you into a tight hug that you melt into, his big arms encasing around you and making you feel safe.

"Where have you been?" he asks, looking over you face.

"Argh i just obviously got so sick of seeing you and Charlie all the time!" you smirk, taking a sip of the Negroni in your hand.

"Mmmmm, and to think. I thought you used to have a crush on me" he chuckles looking down and laughing.

The few drinks you'd had brought for you by your brother and all the drivers who recognized you had got to that confident place in your mind.

"Oh i did, hard core" you say with a straight face making him squint his eyes at you seeing if you were telling the truth.

"You sound ... different" he offers leaning in and tucking some hair behind your ear. If Pierre was being honest he'd never seen you as anything but a little sister, that was how he treated you when you guys were younger.

He didn't know if it was the club lights, the alcohol, your changed accent and looks, or a mix of all of them but he was looking at you like you were the only girl in the world for him.

And you noticed.

"That's what years of schooling in the UK will do for you and having friends who love to take the mick when you butcher the pronunciation of something" you giggle.

"You still sound Monegasque though" he grins, still hearing that twang.

The rest of the conversation was history as you went back to Pierre's hotel room, spending the night with him.

At this point you'd been dating Pierre for 4 years. Everyone noticed since 2021 how much more common your appearance in the garage was. Obviously your twin was there as a development driver for Ferrari, and Charles as a Ferrari driver also meant that people knew you were there for your brothers.

But little did they know you were sneaking off to the Alpine garage in search or your boyfriend.

“Hey baby” you grinned to Pierre, happy to see his face and plant kisses all over it.

“Ahhhh, how are you cherie” he mumbles into your neck. 2024 hadn’t been a great season for Alpine, and 2025 hadn’t started off great either. So you being there in the garage to cheer him up or calm him down was a must.

Charles never really questioned where you left too, he assumed it was to see Logan and Oscar who would often be found teasing Arthur all still being relatively close from their F2 days in Prema.

“Im good, just a little tired” you smile cuddling up to him on the little sofa in his drivers room.

“Mmmmm” he says and he seems like he isn’t fully there with you.

“What’s wrong, somethings on your mind” you ask, looking over him.

“I’ve been thinking” he says looking down at you.

“That’s never good” you joke but his face tells you that this will be a pretty serious conversation. One that you could tell had been playing on his mind.

"What is it what's wrong?" you ask, taking his hand in your own.

"We need to tell your family soon... it's been 4 years of being a secret and I want to show you off. I want to be able to take you out for a nice dinner in public and not fear getting caught. I want you to move in with me, and I just think it's time we tell them!" he admits, all very quickly and he watches as you take the time to process what he has just admitted.

"You want to tell my brothers?" you ask making sure you weren't jumping the gun.

"Yes, I cant help but feel ... guilty is not the right word but do you get what i mean?" he asks and you nod.

"Yeah, why don't I ask maman... she can make us a nice dinner tonight after the race and I'll say I'm bringing my boyfriend?" you smile and he nods.

You walk away to call your mum, leaving Pierre to leave his drivers room and walk to the garage where he would be starting the race soon.

"Maman?" you ask into the phone as it connects.

"Y/N darling where are you. We've all been in the garage waiting for you!" you hear in French and you chuckle.

"I've been, somewhere else. Maman i need to ask you something!" you ask as you exit the Alpine hospitality, trying to go as unnoticed as possible.

"What is it?" she asks, concern washing over her voice.

"I want to introduce you all to my boyfriend tonight..." you say although it comes out as more of a question that anything.

"WHAT?" she yells down the phone and you visibly cringe.

"Y/N Leclerc, get back to the Ferrari garage now!" she chides before hanging up the phone making you bite your lip anxiously.

You walk back to Ferrari as slowly as possible not wanting to feel that wrath of your mother who has probably already told Lorenzo and Arthur.

"Hey..." you say awkwardly as you go to where they are sat in the garage with all their headphones on.

"You have a boyfriend?" Lorenzo asks

"And you didn't tell me... us i mean!" Arthur cries out as Lorenzo elbow his side hearing him talk about himself.

"Maman! You told them!" you exclaim, not in shock as it was highly likely she would spill the beans to your brothers, but more in frustration that she did.

"Y/N! Why would you not tell your family about this... how long has this relationship been for?" your mum asks making you bite your lip and look down.

"4 years" you mumble and you mother huffs asking you to speak up before you say it in French, turning away not wanting to see their reactions.

"You've been with a man for 4 years and not told any of us! Not even Arthur! You tell everything to your twin!" You mum exclaims in shock.

"Obviously not everything ..." Arthur says sounding really upset before walking off, making tears fill in your eyes.

"I'm, we're ... happy for you. Really! But you know we worry about you... especially Charles. I dread to think how he's going to react when we tell him!" he laughs.

It was just you and Lorenzo right now, your mum having gone off to find Arthur.

"Loz, can i tell you something that you cant tell anyone?" you ask looking at him. Your oldest brother was always the best at knowing when you really really wanted his attention and that it was something serious.

"Go on!" he says, looking over you.

"You promise you wont say anything!" you look over at him and he nods, holding up his pinky which you swiftly take with your pinky too.

"I promise!" he sighs.

"It's Pierre" you blurt out, an eyebrow of Lorenzo's raising.

"What's Pierre?" he asks.

"The person who I'm dating... it's Pierre!" you admit and his eyes widen.

"Oh... you are royally fucked!"

And that you were. When Pierre entered the house all hell broke loose. Charles was yelling, Arthur too, Lorenzo was trying to calm everyone down. Maman was being quiet just watching the chaos erupt. Alex and Charlotte didn't know what to do. Pierre was just listening to everything that Charles was yelling at him.

It wasn't until you started sobbing that Charles stopped and looked over at you.

"Y/N... I'm sorry. I didn't mean any of that!" he exclaims looking over between you and Pierre.

"I guess I'm just shocked... we were all friends and I didn't expect it!" he admits and you look down.

"Please, Charlie. I love him... just like you love Alex and how Loz loves Charlotte. He makes me happy, the happiest I've been probably ever!" you sigh and he nods.

"God, i cant believe your growing up!" he sniffles and you pull Charlie into a hug.

"It happens!" you chuckle.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount @styl1shl1v

[ittsybittsybunny]

ATLA Live Action Series Review:

The Good

Aesthetically this show felt right. Sure sometimes the outfits didn't quite feel lived in, but I always felt like I was watching a fantasy world with decent effects and interesting design. Also, I really enjoyed the sets!

Bending: Yes some of the fights feel very quick, but the bending looks cool. It is certainly better than 10 benders lifting one big rock. I can honestly say the opening bending fight scene gave me so much hope for this show.

Kyoshi Warriors: I loved seeing them in live action, and I thought Suki's performance was great!

Omashu: I think the mashup of the mechanist made sense since that is an important character overall and I would hate to see him cut. However, both Jet & the secret tunnels felt sloppily thrown in.

Northern Water Tribe: I really loved the way it looked, and appreciated the two episodes we spent here. I think Yue gained more agency in this interpretation, and why shouldn't the moon spirit be a waterbender. Also, episode seven felt the most in tune with the original show's spirit.

Zuko: I think he was one of the most fleshed-out and best parts of the show! Dallas Liu really captured Zuko's spirit, and the scene between him and Aang in episode 6 was wonderful!

Soundtrack: Hearing the original soundtrack bits is always great, and when I first heard the ending music I was so excited.

Is the show perfect, no - but I wouldn't mind a season 2.

The Bad

Pacing: Turning 20 episodes into 8 was bound to lead to some cuts...but oftentimes times things felt too quick or disjointed. I think there were editing problems contributing to this for sure, but sometimes things skipped around too much without a clear purpose as to why. Also, why bring in plots from later seasons when you barely have enough time already?

Writing: This show definitely suffered from exposition dumping, though it did get better as time went on. I think the biggest example of this is actually opening in the past rather than the present. We do not get to learn along with Aang that the world has changed, instead, we get to learn that 100 years have passed....which doesn't hold the same tension or worldbuilding.

Clunky Dialogue: Along with exposition, clunky dialogue is another example of bad writing. I think sometimes I felt like the acting was kind of meh in the beginning, but then over time I began to realize it had far more to do with the lines characters were trying to deliver. The actors themselves are not bad, just cursed with awkward writing and lines that feel out of touch with the setting they're in.

Main Trio: I don't entirely know that I believe Katara, Sokka, and Aang are friends as opposed to 3 people stuck together to save the world. Aang feels a little too somber for a young kid running away from his responsibilities, Sokka is protective, but not exactly the heart of the team, and Katara is sort of just there until the last two episodes. Where is her struggle, her desire to learn so strong she steals from pirates? Also, while Gordon Cormier did a great job, Aang does zero waterbending on his own, is overly serious, and tells Katara not to fight. Where is his desperation to protect his friends? It feels like they all lost emotional depth.

Tension: Bringing Ozai, Azula, and Zhao out in the beginning immediately causes us to lose the realization there is an even bigger bad. Part of why Ozai is so terrifying is he is a primarily silent villain until the third season when we finally see the face of the "big bad evil guy" behind it all. Yes, they add to Zuko's backstory, but again, they are revealing the villains too early. Azula is the antagonist of season 2 and one of my favorite characters, so I hope they do more with her in the future. Finally, Zhao is supposed to be an example of the uncontrollable nature of fire unrestrained, instead, he comes off as vaguely threatening with the supposed true power being Azula.

Characterization: While all characters are bound to lose something in a shorter show, it still felt like certain characters were more mutilated than others. I am sure there are 100 different opinions on who, but I think the biggest victim was Katara.

Katara: Katara manages to go from a complete novice to a bending master in what feels like a matter of days. The journey feels short, and that makes the results feel largely unearned. Katara is one of the strongest personalities in the show, determined, kind, and fiery. In many ways, she is the unpredictability of water - equally dangerous as it is necessary to live. She is the child of a war who lost her mother, forced to grow up too soon, and even raised her older brother. Yes, Katara often gets stereotyped as the mom friend, but overall she feels underutilized in this show. We really don't see enough of her journey until the very end.

Iroh: Iroh was always comedic but most importantly wise. Even when Zuko is trying to give himself advice, he mimics Iroh. Instead, he seems to be used more as comedic relief without the underlying experience. He just doesn't feel right. Also, he kills Zhao instead of Zhao getting himself killed - which is less about Iroh and more about the writing than anything.

Ozai is weirdly a little too nice. Yes, he burned Zuko and pits his kids against each other, but he feels toned down in a show claiming to be more mature than the original cartoon.

Azula is perhaps more realistically worried about losing her status as the golden child, but she is also missing the cruelty she and her father share. I understand worrying about making your character cartoonishly evil, but the Fire Nation is currently a deeply nationalistic empire trying to control the world. Where is the deep-seated belief that they are better than other people, not just trying to bring balance to the world? There is a line between creating complexity and toning down the very real evil inherent in this plan.

Roku: I can only say what the fuck was that. He was barely there, and not the serious master to Aang's youthful exuberance.

The Ugly

Show, Don't Tell: The show's single biggest issue seems to be speeding through story parts by simply stating things. Instead of allowing the audience to discover, trusting that we are smart enough to understand, let's just blatantly say things like Zuko is the only reason the 41st division is alive to their faces. Even though in the context of the story Ozai literally already said that.... it's the division, the division for Zuko, Zuko's division.

Thematic Misunderstandings: I think this show makes several minor changes with major implications, such as airbenders actively fighting the firebenders, when airbenders are known for their pacifist nature and the lie of an Airbender fighting force is actively propaganda. Similarly, Aang very quickly accepts his role as the avatar and doesn't even run away in the beginning. Without this conflict between his desire to be a carefree child and the fact that the world needs him - the show loses a key aspect of Aang's character. Also, the obsession with downplaying the avatar state as something dangerous feels like a disservice to the tradition, connection, and strength of the avatar, which can be permanently destroyed as the trade-off for that kind of power. It's dangerous for the balance of the entire world, not just because it's powerful!

The Agni Kai: Zuko's fight against his father is one of the defining moments of Ozai's cruelty, not just because he is willing to fight his child, but because Zuko tried to do everything right. Zuko shows deference to his father, apologizes, and most importantly refuses to fight! The determination not to upset his father and still be grievously injured and banished is a hugely important theme for the fire nation and Zuko's life as a whole. He tries to do everything he is supposed to and only regains his father's acceptance after he "kills" Aang. Zuko's struggle between moral vs. social right and wrong in contrast to his family is hugely important to his character.

-----

TLDR: ATLA was a fantastical animated television show that was never afraid to show character development and flaws. When you turn 20 episodes into 8, you are bound to lose something. You hollowed out the middle, leaving the shell of important moments and events without ever wondering if all the times in between formed the true spirit of the show.

Rating: 6.5/10 It's perfectly fine and worth a watch. Not a disaster, but certainly falls flat of the original.

[ihavethedreamies]

In the Doghouse | Yeosang

Kang Yeosang - ATEEZ

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~4.8k

Pairing: Dog-Hybrid!Yeosang x Cat-Hybrid!AFAB!Reader

Genre: Hybrid AU!, Historical/Period, Reader-Insert, Fluff, Smut, Some Plot, Strangers-to-Friends-to-Lovers

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Pet Names (Kitten, Love), Swearing, Kissing, Biting/Marking, Bonding/Mating, Heat/Rut, Pheromones, Oral (F! Receiving), Unprotected Sex (This is pre-birth control so…), Breeding Kink (u3u)

Trigger Warning: There is some talk of abuse and/or neglect in this. It doesn't go into detail, but the reader in beginning is living with a cruel relative. It's not related to Yeosang or the relationship between the two. Also, Yeosang is a 'Police Dog', but there is very little talk of police and cops.

Author's Note: This is NOT Omegaverse, but they do both go into rut/heat. They have animals ears and tails and he's got a knotted doggy cock. Yeosang is supposed to be a Doberman, even though the breed wasn't in this time period. This is set in the late Victorian Era of London, and sorry if it's not completely accurate to the time.

I will be doing all the members and uploading them as I go. I normally like to upload a whole series at a time but I'm trying to pack to move.

-> Series Hub <-

🦁 Hongjoong's 🦁

🐻 Jongho's 🐻

🐯 San's 🐯

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other site. Happy reading!

"Geddat fuckin' cat!" You heard the storekeeper’s shout echo through the narrow street as you dashed in the opposite direction. You clutched the bag closer to you, hoping to hide it from prying eyes. You purposefully wrapped your tail around your leg, hoping to make it less obvious, ears flattening to your head to blend in with your hair. Turning a narrow corner into an alley, you heard some footsteps against the cobblestone behind you, but they ran past where you had entered. Leaving the alley into the opposite street, you turned the way you had come, back toward your house. Sliding into another back alley, you placed the strings of the bag in your mouth. Without stopping, you jumped up onto the ladder hanging down from your second-story window. Climbing up the rungs, you pulled the window open all the way and jumped into your bedroom. Unhooking the rope and wood ladder from the windowsill, you reeled it in and shut the window. Panting for breath, you rested against the wall, sliding down so you were sitting on the floor. Heaving for air, you glanced at the bag that you had brought it, laying in a heap on the floor under the window. Finally, when you could breathe easily enough, you got on your knees so you could reach and grab the sack, opening it. Inside, the two loaves of bread were still steaming and your stomach rumbled in desire.

"Man, I wanna fish…" You sniffed in displeasure, tail whipping angrily behind you. It was bad enough you had to steal food to eat, but all you could typically manage was some bread or maybe potatoes. As you stood to close your door so you could enjoy your haul, you heard banging from downstairs. Someone was pounding on the door. You heard your aunt call for the person to hold on and you stood still, staring at the open door of your bedroom. Did they really find you? They never had before…

"Hello, madam. I hate to bother you, but I was told that a thief might have made their way into your second story window." You heard from down the hall, at the base of the stairs. Your eyes widened in panic and you prayed that your aunt would cover for you. Fat chance.

"Second story? You've got to… (Y/N) get down here, right now!" She screeched and your ears flattened at the noise. Stepping forward as quietly as you could, you stuck your head out just enough to look past the door frame to see your aunt standing halfway up the stairs. Her own tail was swinging back and forth with ire and her arms were crossed. The nastiest look you had ever seen was on her face and you clicked your tongue.

"What did you steal this time, you lazy stray!" She hissed and you shuffled out of the room, bag hanging limply from your hand at your side. There was a man in a police uniform in the doorway, and next to him…A dog hybrid. He was…beautiful, honestly. Prettier than you for sure. His hair was longer, with a slight wave at the end of the black strands, two tall, pointed ears sticking out from the top of his head. You couldn't see a tail, so it was probably docked into a nub. The hairs at the back of your neck and base of your tail rose, shoulders tensing as you got to the top of the staircase. His sharp eyes met yours, and you knew that's how they found you. Fucking police dogs…

"Give me that!" Your aunt swiped the bag from you, her claw-like nails scratching your hands, making you pull them back. Holding your other hand over the red marks, you glared hard at her when she opened the sack.

"Bread?! You stole bread?!" She hissed, fierce eyes searing holes into your skull.

"Maybe if you didn't fuckin' starve me, I wudduna had ta'!" You hissed back and you flinched as you saw her raise her hand.

"Now, madam, it’s nothing to harm her over. We'll take her to the station." A smooth, deep voice prompted you to open your eyes, seeing the guard dog holding the wrist of your nasty aunt. His grip was loose, so as not to dig his thick claws into your aunt's skin. He should have though… Your aunt took her arm away from him when he let her go and you were more willing to go with him then stay there any longer. Honestly, jail would be a welcome change. You followed the dog down the stairs and your aunt went as well, handing the stolen loaves to the human officer. With a strong hand on your bicep, the police dog led you further down the street, his partner following.

"Did you really steal because she starves you?" The elder officer asked you, his tone gentler than you expected. Your aunt wasn't poor, by any means, but you lived in what was equivalent to a storage room.

"I get a potato every other day if I don't." Your tail flicked nervously, ear flicking when a drop of water hit it. Glancing up at the sky, you sneered at the gathering clouds, feeling another drop land on your face. You wiggled your nose, feeling the drop most likely wash a trail of dirt off your face.

"She doesn't feed you any meat?" The dog furrowed his brow, letting you go, eyes zigzagging over you. It was evident your clothes were somehow too big and too small at the same time, and your boots were old.

"Alley bastards don't deserve meat." You spat out the words you were so used to hearing. It wasn't your fault that your mother slept with a commoner, but your aunt and grandparents took it out on you. The only reason your mother's sister took you in was because she got a tax cut for listing you as living with her.

"How old are you, Miss (Y/N)?" The human officer asked.

"Twenty…somethin'…" You weren't for sure, never celebrated your birthday.

"I think the baker will be willing to forgive if we return the bread. Yeosang?" The officer looked at the dog and you did as well.

"The poverty shelter doesn't take cats, does it? Just dogs?"

"Yessir." The dog, Yeosang, sighed, glancing back to you. The rain seemed to be waiting as well, only a few drops falling as you looked nervously between the two men. What were they going to do with you?

"She could stay with me, if that is alright with her." Yeosang cast you a look, his gaze warm and you blinked in shock. Charity? Wow, you had heard of it before…

"Any where’s better than auntie's…" Your tail was still whipping and the elder officer nodded with a hum.

"Thank you, son. You may get off your shift early. Make sure she gets a good hot meal." The human smiled warmly himself and headed off toward the bakery, bread bag in hand.

"Are ya sure? I'm notta hassle?"

"No, kitten. Let's get you some meat." The hand that had been on your arm went to your upper back so he could pull you to walk next to him, then he led you presumably to his home. Right as you got under the awning over his front door, the rain started to pour.

***

"Slow down, love. There's plenty." The dog was way gentler with you than you expected. His home was nice and warm, cozy, and smelled good. He had presented you with bread that he had bought the day before, as well as some cured meats, cheese, even some fruit. Not sure where to start, you reached carefully for a slice of summer sausage and then your vision went red, your appetite raring to full force. Yeosang huffed in amusement, able to hear the rapid purr you let out as you ate. When he had removed his uniform coat, he just had on a thin white button up underneath. The shirt did very little to hide the obvious muscle underneath, the buttons struggling to hold still over his chest. As you had started to eat, he rolled the sleeves up to above his elbow, showing toned forearms. He ate more leisurely, and once you were no longer ravenous, you slowed your pace. You took each chance you got to look over him, he was absolutely stunning.

"Yer' from the far east, yah?" You asked around a mouthful of different things you had just shoved in. He hummed with a nod and your eyes flicked to the water ewer he had set on the table and he poured some into a stein. Eagerly taking the drink, you chugged it down, a little bit of the water dripping past your bottom lip. Letting you a groaning exhale after you had gotten everything down, you slumped in your chair. You hadn't felt so full in so long and you weren't expecting to get a nice meal when you stole the bread.

"Are ya' like…a saint or somethin?" You asked, not sure why he would help you.

"Pardon me?"

"You know, like those folks in the Bible that help…saints or whatever…" Your nail clicked against the glass cup you were holding. You weren't very educated, but you tried to retain what little bit of information you had learned.

"Oh, um, no. I think I would just qualify as generous." He smiled bashfully and you let out an 'ah' in realization.

"Thanks for the meal…I um, I don't want to go home but…"

"You don't have to go back there, kitten." The dog smiled, his own pointed ear drooping a bit along with his pitying gaze. Normally that look pissed you off, but you just felt bashful then.

"Do you have somewhere I can go, then?"

"I told you; you can stay here. I have a spare room anyway. It's hard for women to find work, harder yet for a cat hybrid…" He paused to think it seemed.

"I-I can clean! Or, uh…well, I'm good at physical stuff, I can run…places." You weren't sure what else specifically you could do, your only 'skill' was cleaning. Or stealing.

"If you want to help with housekeeping, that's up to you. I am more worried how people might see a man and woman living together outside of marriage." The dog grimaced a bit.

"Oh. Right." You hadn't thought about that… It was one thing for normal everyday people, but he was a public officer.

"What if ya’ hire me? As yer' official housekeep? That wouldn't look suspect, yeah?" You offered.

"That would probably work. For now. Here." He stood up, motioning for you to follow him. You did so, going toward the narrow front entryway and then up the steep stairs to his second floor. There was a room to the left, but he let you into the one on the right, the door right on the landing. It was pretty bare, and to most, small. However, it was way bigger than where you had been before and had a real bed.

"I-I can really stay here?" You felt your throat tighten, stepping further in.

"Of course, love. Tomorrow we can figure out the details, why don't you get some sleep?" You turned back to look at him, that warm and sincere smile still present. Overcome with emotion, you pounced forward, wrapping your arms around his toned middle, cheek to his chest.

"Thank you, Yeosang!" You sniffed, trying not to bawl. He rested his hand on your head, thumb rubbing the back of your ear.

"You're welcome, (Y/N)."

~*~*~

Over the next two months, you lived the best days of your life. Yeosang had commented that his house had never looked so clean, even though it wasn't messy before. After the third day there, and you had thrown up from overeating, you paced yourself more. Finally, you were used to being well fed, and you no longer looked like you were actually starving. The second week you were there, he had taken you to a tailor and bought you two new outfits, ones that actually fit. You preferred the simple shirt and pants, but he also got you a simple dress that was a soft blue. You cried. You had been crying a lot, so touched by how sweet he was being.

One day, you were in the market to buy a few things. No one that you had stolen from in the past knew it was you. Combined with being healthy and clean, you were also in a nice dress and your hair was done.

"(Y/N)!?" The voice made you stop cold, hand still reaching for a squash on the seller's stall table. Your aunt.

"You stupid twat!" She screeched and before you registered where she was, her hand was in your hair, claws scratching your scalp. You yowled, dropping your basket, potatoes and apples rolling away. People gasped, turning to watch the fight, but not stepping in to help.

"I've had to pay more than ever now that you left! I had to pay a bloody fine as well, endangering a ward or something! You little whore! I know you're living with a man not your husband! What would your mother think, you raising your tail for a dog?!" She was screaming, hissing and spitting. You tried to get her to let you go, but not wanting to fight and ruin your dress. You knew the words she was speaking weren't true, but the people around didn't, and you didn't want the negative gossip to get back to Yeosang. When a blowing whistle hit your ears, you mewled in relief, rapid footsteps nearing. The horrible woman was pulled away from you, and you slumped into a pile, holding your head.

"(Y/N), are you okay, love?" Yeosang was quick to your side, looking over your head. A growl was rumbling in his chest as he shot a searing glare at the other woman. You didn't look up to see who the other officers were subduing her, burying your head in Yeosang's chest to hide.

"Oh, kitten." He whined, holding you to him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he easily lifted you, carrying you toward home, ignoring the stares and whispers.

As you sat on the table, he dabbed at the scratches with a cloth dipped in alcohol, the disinfectant stinging. You winced again and he apologized, trying to be gentle.

"Did you hear what she said?" you whispered. Your eyes were glossing over the bottle next to you, brain trying to process the letters you saw. Yeosang had been teaching you, but you could only read the big word, 'VODKA'.

"It's not true, so it doesn't matter." he whispered back.

"Maybe…I should leave?" Your voice cracked, really not wanting to follow through with the suggestion. The cloth on your head left and he stepped back, hand on your chin to tilt your head back. He looked over your face, noticing your red blotchy cheeks and glossy eyes.

"Why?"

"Because…what if it comes back and hurts you…?" You sniffed, trying to avoid his eyes. His hand left your chin, but then both went to cup your cheeks.

"(Y/N), kitten, I would be heartbroken if you left." The dog's deep voice was so warm, soft, like his hugs.

"Yeah?" He wiped a tear away from your eye and smiled, leaning forward and pressing his forehead to yours.

"Yes. If you're so worried…" He drifted off, one hand leaving your jaw to take yours.

"What if we get married?" He finished and it was like time stopped. Your ears started to ring and you slowly lifted your head back up to look him in the eye again.

"What?" Your voice was so soft that if he wasn't a dog or another hybrid, he probably wouldn't have heard.

"(Y/N), I know it's only been a couple months, but I've fallen in love with you. I want you to stay with me." He brought your hand to his mouth, kissing your knuckles. You burst into tears then, crying hard, harder than you had before, babbling nonsense.

"I-I-I want to stay too!" You cried and he pulled you into his chest, thumb rubbing the back of your ear.

"Then?"

"I wanna be your wife." You mumbled, sniffing hard so you didn't drip snot on his uniform shirt.

The next few minutes were nearly a blur, your mind finally caught up as your back hit his bed, his lips fervently pressing to yours. His breath was heaving, chest rumbling and his sandalwood and rosewater scent was growing stronger. You felt like he was going to swallow you whole, and you wondered why it was said cats and dogs didn't get along. You had never felt so loved unconditionally and wholly but by Yeosang, a dog, despite that you were a cat. An alley cat at that. In that moment though, you truly saw him as a big, strong working dog, easily surrounding the little stray cat that had been taken into his home. But instead of growling and scaring the little kitty, the big pup had laid down and wrapped around the small cat, protecting and loving her.

"Your tongue's rough." He huffed in amusement, only pulling back a second before his mouth sealed back to yours, tongue wrapping around your smaller one. You whimpered and mewled, head growing hazy from his kisses. Your back arched as his mouth left yours, trailing to your jaw and down to your neck. As he unbuttoned your dress, he licked and sucked over the skin revealed, tugging at the fabric to get it over your breasts so he could shuck it off. The dress floated down to the floor behind him, settling on the floor with a flutter. Once you were down to your undergarments, nothing more than a thin chemise and light set of stays, he sat up to kneel over you. He had luckily taken his uniform jacket off earlier, because in his haste to remove his shirt, two of the buttons flew off, clattering against the wood floor. You had seen him shirtless before, but never had the chance to touch, so you had to take the chance. Yeosang chuckled, his ears drooping a bit in pleasure as your small, warm hands ran over the smooth skin of his chest and stomach. He really was physical perfection. Biting your lip, your hands went to work on his belt and he took the chance to untie your stays. You felt a little more air flow easier threw your lungs as he pulled the garment off and you squeaked as he moved. Quickly, so quickly, he pulled your chemise off as well, leaving you bare, and essentially picked you up and tossed you back up the bed. As you tried to get your bearings, you didn’t notice him resting his stomach on the bed.

“Y-Yeosang!” Your nails dug fast into the sheets as his long tongue lapped a path through your slit. A growl rumbled from him and his hands held your thighs apart so he could slide his tongue into your cunt, the feeling made you twitch and shiver. He was breathing so hard through his nose you felt the puffs of air against your clit, tail flicking against the bed. Something was rising fast in your tummy, and he could feel your gummy walls clench unevenly around his tongue. The dog’s nose bumped your clit once more and you nearly squealed as your orgasm hit. He eagerly drank up the slick that flowed from you, licking his chops as he pulled away once you were done. He smiled down at you, softly, admiring your red face and heaving chest. Before you could really come to reality, he had flipped you onto your stomach. There was some rustling, and you had been too busy trying to register what had just happened, the next thing you knew, his bare body was laying over yours. He didn't rest down too hard, he was bigger and heavier, but you shivered at his skin on yours, hard chest to your back. You shivered as his hard cock nestled in the crook your ass.

"Big as my fuckin' arm…" You huffed to yourself and he chuckled, biting his lip, chest rumbling.

"Think your sweet cunt can take it?" His deep voice right in your ear was in itself orgasmic and your core was rapidly heating. You were pretty sure you hadn't had a heat in so long from being in poor health, and so it seemed your system needed to compensate. Your whole body was rapidly rising in temperature, he could tell from where his skin pressed to yours. The delightful scent of vanilla and lavender you normally exuded was growing stronger, the aroma filling his lungs. You whimpered when his strong arm wrapped under your stomach, lifting your hips into the air as he grinded his cock against your weeping folds. He wasn't normally one for crass language like you, but he was spewing sweet filth as you tried to formulate a thought to respond. The heat was nearly growing painful, and even though he was huge and you inexperienced, you needed him inside.

"Such a pretty pussy, kitten. Bet it's leaking so much to let me in. Take my cock and my knot." He groaned when he ran his thumb up your slit, gathering your slick that was nearly dripping from your core.

"Want me to ruin your cunt, love? Split you open, fuck you silly, then pump you full. I wonder if a kitty can even get pregnant by a dog. Guess we'll find out…" It seemed your heat was sending him into a semi-rut, his mind was full of nothing but sinking into you and fucking you into the mattress. He had honestly wanted to for weeks but had tried to keep the thoughts away.

"Y-Yeosang! Please!" You mewled, nails digging into his pillow, tail flailing back and forth. You yowled when his strong hand grabbed your tail at the base, wrapping some of the length around his fist, tugging on it. He smirked as your cunt let out another glob of slick from the sensation, your rapid purr growing in strength.

"Not just my wife, but my mate. Want your womb to hold my pups." The male chuckled, adjusting to press the fat head of his leaking cock against your core. You shivered, a bit worried he was too big, but you needed him. And his knot.

"Hold on, kitten." He licked his lips to prevent the saliva that had gathered from leaking, holding the base of your tail and hip for leverage. Your breath hitched, cunt spasming as he started to press in. He watched in delight as your folds eagerly stretched and sucked his cock in, even more slick spilling out, leaving a puddle on his bed. The base of his cock had already started to swell a bit, but he wasn't going to knot you so soon. No, he was going to have his way with you for a good long while first.

"Fuck!" You squealed, claws puncturing his bedding, teeth digging into the pillow. His hot cock was searing through you, the burn of the stretch just fueling the fire in your womb further. Tears sprung to your eyes and you gasped for air, intense waves of pleasure crashing over you, sending you to climax before he was even halfway in. Yeosang felt your gummy walls clench and pulse around him, and he threw his head back, tongue lolling out of his mouth as he groaned. The grip on your tail tightened just a bit and you keened at his slow ease, but his restraint was wavering.

"J-just do it, 'Sang~" You mewled, sparks of arousal shooting up your spine from your tail. He didn't hesitate with your consent, and he snapped his hips to bury the last few inches into your hot vice. Your vision spotted as the head of his dick pressed at your womb, hips pressed to your backside. He sat there for a bit, letting you get used to the searing pleasure, grinding down into you every so often. As he heard your breathing even out a bit more, you let out a big shudder and he released your tail, falling forward so his hands caught him on the bed. The dog let out a small whimper, furrowing his brow. A clawed hand went to your sternum and he helped you hold yourself up on your arms so your back was parallel to his chest. His nose ran over your shoulder, right new to your neck and your body tensed in preparation, your cunt tightening even further. With a little lick, his teeth dug into your skin, and he sucked and licked as he bit, sealing you as his mate. Your eyes rolled back into your head, most of your strength leaving you as you came again, spurts of slick drenching his groin and balls. Pulling back from the mark, he licked the blood away and you fell onto your chest, using what little strength you had left to grip the already torn sheets.

"Ready?" He didn't wait for your response, slowly puling his hips back, cock halfway in, then fucked back into you. You yelped, his rapid and hard pace was immediate, no build up, and your brain ended up as fucked as your cunt. You were babbling and mewling, tail thrashing before he gripped it once more, holding your hips still as his battered against your ass. His free hand snaked down to your stomach, and he groaned at the shallow bulge that would form each time he buried to the hilt, your tiny body straining to take him. You bit the pillow again, using it to muffle your scream as he plowed through another one of your orgasms. His thrusts grew shallower, burying deep each time and fucking back in just by an inch, hard and grinding. Your eyes crossed when the base of your core started to burn once more, pussy searing as his knot started to swell. He whimpered between grunts and growls, head thrown back, sweat slick black strands tickling his upper back.

"I'm going to breed you, kitten. Fill you with my seed till you have my pups. Even if it takes all night." He groaned as your cunt fluttered once more and he gave one more hard thrust, letting his knot swell. You gasped and heaved at the feeling; he hadn't even begun to cum yet. When the hot spurts started to fill you, flooding your weeping womb, you nearly passed out. The sticky fluid dowsed the fire that your body had set and his hips jolted with each squirt, pressing as deep as he could. As the waves of his orgasm faded, he let your tail go, falling forward once more, heaving for breath himself. You were breathing heavily, but otherwise quiet and he glanced down to look at your face. You were still conscious, barely, eyes staring blankly at the wall, tears drying on your cheek and drool had left a dark spot under your mouth. Gently, so much so compared to his rough fucking, he pet your hair, pulling a few strands away from your sweaty brow.

"I love you, (Y/N)." He whispered and he noticed your lips quirk gently into a small smile.

"Love you too~"

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[lurkingshan]

10 Things I Love About Triage

I am extraordinarily late to this party but I am here to scream about Triage, a show which I started on a whim after a stray comment from @incandescentflower and subsequently finished in two sittings. This drama has been on my list forever (I didn't watch it live because the distribution was wacky) and then it just kept getting overlooked as I fought to keep up with the deluge of Thai BL coming at us at all times. But I am very glad I finally hunted it down and made the time and I would like to tell you why!

Hello Again, Dr. Sammon

I am on record as a Sammon fan. She is one of the best writers working in Thai BL and she has a knack for mystery and suspense. Her narratives are always really well constructed with tight plotting and smart character work, and Triage is no exception. This story feels confident, steady, and complete in a way few Thai BLs do.

The time travel rules are blessedly consistent

Part of what makes the story sing is it's a time travel plot that actually gets the particulars right. In a time loop, the details are everything, and this show understands that. The series of events are consistent, the rules of the time travel mechanics are clearly explained, and when our protagonists learn something new, it always lines up with something we'd gotten hints about before or gives us new context for old information. There are no loose threads in this show.

My boy Tin is going through it

Tin is a fantastic protagonist. He starts the show disillusioned with his work and hilariously grumpy about this time loop situation--he is a busy ER doctor and he does not have time for this--but as he starts to piece together how the loop works he gets more methodical in his approach, and eventually becomes emotionally invested in his mission to save Tol. Tin felt really well-calibrated in that he was smart and he tried all the things you would be shouting at the screen for him to try, but he's still a human being with flaws and insecurities and so he makes mistakes, learns, and has to try again. The show really successfully put us in the frustration with him.

Tol makes for an interesting damsel

Because he's kind of an asshole! Tol is rude and disrespectful when he first meets Tin, he hangs around with some truly awful bullies, he treats Rit like garbage, and he's all around an arrogant dick. Until he isn't. I like the choice to make the focus of our mission such a difficult character, not only because it makes Tin's challenge that much harder, but also because it invites us to consider the reasons why someone might be behaving the way he is and whether they can be redeemed.

This show has everything: action, romance, and agony

It's truly an emotional rollercoaster all the way through, and you can't relax for a moment. The pacing is relentless through most of the show, and even as a bond develops between Tin and Tol and they begin a tentative romance, danger is lurking around every corner. As soon as these boys started making out in episode 9 I knew something awful was coming for me and IT SURE DID.

Jinta, the ultimate frenemy

On that note let's talk about Jinta, my nemesis!! Jinta is some kind of unspecified deity/whimsical god and the one who appears to be responsible for putting Tin and Tol in this loop. Is he trying to help them? Is he trying to torture them? I definitely think it's both! He seems to delight in showing up to taunt Tin as he struggles to figure out how to get through to Tol, and when it's Tol's turn on the merry-go-round he sends him to the darkest timeline for his high stakes final attempt to save Tin just because he can. I love/hate you, sir!

Sing and Gap and the darkest timeline

Speaking of which, can we talk about how appropriate it is that Sing and Gap are a couple only in the darkest timeline? I don't know if people were shipping this for real during the live watch, but I definitely was not and so I started cackling when we got to the worst possible timeline and Sing was suddenly calling Gap his boyfriend. Sammon, you are hilarious and I salute you.

Fantastic side characters

Let's talk about the sides I did love. First of all, aside from his weird aggressive flirting/not flirting thing with Gap, I actually did like Sing's friendship with Tin a lot. I also loved the hospital gang who were around to alternately tease and help Tin, most especially Toy and Fang. Toy is a sweetheart and a gossip who never misses a trick, and Fang is an actual badass who first cracked the case with that evil doctor and saved Tin's life. They are fabulous. Rit was also an excellent character with a lot of complexity and he added some much needed depth to the school storyline (does anyone else think he was basically the proto-DFF Non?). And while Mai and Heart were not my favorite people, I did appreciate that the show gave them a sympathetic portrayal instead of making them evil villains (we had the organ harvesters for that).

That beautiful clocktower

I must give a shoutout to this gorgeous clocktower featured in several important scenes. I got so excited every time it showed up. Fun fact: in the first clocktower scene I was like oh hey I recognize that from gifs, but it can't be that scene because it's too early for a kis--TIN WHAT ARE YOU DOING! (I was right, it was too early for a kiss and Tol was Big Mad but bless you for going for it anyway, Tin).

The romance is balanced and rootable

And on that note, let me give a shoutout to the romance part of this story for actually feeling balanced. This is not an epic swoony love affair, but more a story of two people putting in the time to understand and empathize with each other. Sometimes in these kind of time loop stories the romance can end up feeling very one-sided because one character is holding all the knowledge and all the cards. But in this show we have the neat trick of Tol taking over the loop to try to save Tin in the final arc, which means he got to go through a similar process of getting to know the darkest version of his lover and figuring out how to get through to him. I was delighted by all the events of the long loop playing out again, but this time with Tin being the obstinate one. Tol got a taste of his own medicine and it left me feeling like they were both equally invested in this relationship.

TL;DR: If you haven't watched this yet, you really should! It's a fast binge and a great time with some Thai BL favorites. It's unfortunately still not available for international streaming, but it's very easy to find grey now and it's worth the effort. Go forth!

[salaciousdoll]

꒷︶ ̇ ̟ ෆ ‿︵‿ The Salacious Exploits ‿︵‿ ෆ ̟ ̇ ︶꒷

You’re a girl who was brought into this world with riches. Many thought that you had it all but the act of abandonment done by your father says otherwise. Don’t get it misconstrued though, your father is still alive and in your life just doesn’t even glance your way even when you broke into the famous stadium near your house with your friends, leading to sending you away to boarding school. Boarding School was an experience. Getting through that obstacle only to end up at a nice 4 year University. Easy-peasy for you right? except two and a half years later you’re sent to Private College. You hated your mother for thinking what’s best for you but “The Kaizen of Maria” Private College was a risqué experience, way better than boarding school, am I right? Am I? See how you deal with being with the social classes you don’t usually be in. Hardships, flowing red and orange leaves hitting the ground in the opening season of fall, volleyball practices, majors, sexy instructors and classmates, and finally realization of issues.

Be apprised of the warnings before you read below: smut, heavy smut, plot build-up, angst, heavy angst at the end chapters and maybe beginning too, chubby reader in mind but everyone could read, age gap, reader is in her early 20s( 21-23), tw.taboo, teacher/student relationships, reader could be considered hyper feminine and Bimbo/ditzy, very different and wrong depictions of boarding school( just for the plot), trauma( heavy and light), power dynamic relationships, sex with no relations on one side( yours), large age gaps so please be aware, written with black reader in mind but again everyone could read, volleyball player!reader, fashion major!reader, chubby reader in mind but everyone could read, daddy issues are high here but this in no way to describe it in a sexual manner only( this also goes into depths of it), heavy drug use! But the reader is not doing it just watching + dark content!, threesomes, classroom fucking, under the desk, Pervert reader and some characters, size kink but not major, false!corruption kink, reader is very seductive without even doing anything, body fluids( squirting, creampies, cum on body), mention of the younger cast of each series( not everyone though), Fem!reader, the men and Hange are between the ages of (30-50, so exit out this series if you’re uncomfortable), some fluff here and there, a little self indulgent, small descriptions of body parts( cocks, pussy, hair, etc.), heavy body worship, oral( f & m receiving), mentions of alcohol/parties off campus, strict teachers( Nanami, Erwin, and Levi), toxic!relationships, unrequited love( male wise), modern!au, joint modern au, crossover au!

Characters: Erwin smith, Levi Ackerman, Onyankopon, Hange Zoe, Miche Zacharias, Gojo satoru, Geto suguru, Nanami Kento, Toji Fushiguro, Shiu Kong, Hiromi Higuruma, Keith shadis, Kishibe, Eren Kruger, Principal Yaga, Zeke Yeager, Atsuya Kukasabe, Grisha Yeager, Kenny Ackerman, and Choso Kamo

Wc: tba ( tie it up at the end of the series)

ෆ ‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿ ෆ ̟ ̇ ┈•ﾟNote from Salaciousdoll: Thank you to Deja for the pictures/headers, I adore you so much for this because you did this for free and just for your own entertainment, I was so scared to ask you but we up!! 😭 read the warnings carefully everyone. As always, MDNI; 18+ only

Taglist

｡ﾟ•┈୨ CHAPTERS ୧┈• ｡ﾟ

i. The opening of Fall 9/19/23

ii. Friends? 10/1/23

iii. You can’t always get what you want 12/16/23

IV. I wouldn’t do a thing like that, that’s for sure! 1/16/24

V. Be my Daddy(1/24/24)

VI. Ridin’

VII. I put you down because I want you

VIII. Slut Pop

IX. Strawberry Pound Cake

X. Thee Five Star Bitch

XI. Cherry Cola

Xll. Ten men on my line tryna fuck me, your daddy’s the biggest spender

XIII. He calls me lavender

XIV. Just wanna have fun’

BONUS CHAPTERS

XV. Holding hands with an bad old man

XVI. Allure

XVII. Wanna know how red taste?

XVIII. Blood Rush Slut

XIX . Candy Necklaces

XX. French Restaurant

｡ﾟ•┈୨ SALACIOUS PLAYLIST ୧┈• ｡ﾟ

1. Boarding school- Lana Del Rey 2. Party Girls- Victoria Monet

3. Love Language- Sza 4. Open Arms- Sza ft Travis Scott

5. Mermaid Hotel-Lana Del Rey 6. Girl that got away- Lana Del Rey

7. Go Go Dancer- Lana del Rey 8. Off to the Races- Lana del Rey

9. I’m that girl- Beyoncé 10. Rocket- Beyoncé 11. You can be the boss- Lana del Rey

12. French restaurant- Lana del Rey 13. Fucked my way up to the top- Lana del Rey

14. Attention- doja cat 15. Daddy issues- The Neighborhood

16. Older- Isabel larosa 17. Naughty Girl-Beyoncé 18. Valley of the doll- Marina

19. What was I made for- Billie elilish 20. Baby doll- Mariah Carey

21. The roof- Mariah Carey 22. Body Electric- Lana del Rey

23. All Up In Your Mind- Beyoncé

Tagging: @chosoist @honeybleed @emomanswhore @simpingfor-wakasa @happygoluckyalexis @mastermindenoshimaalicia @angelshub and if anyone else wants to be tagged in future chapter, fill out the taglist form.

｡ﾟ•┈© all right reserved to salaciousdoll, she does not give permission to steal, plagiarize, and translate.

[talesofesther]

what once was mine | ch 3

Loki x Reader

Series Summary: When watching what once was supposed to be the rest of his life, in an empty room in the TVA, Loki sees someone he can't recognize; a girl who's all tenderness and loose smiles, and most importantly, she was smiling at him.

A/N: We're finally heading into the main plot I think lol. Hope y'all like this one, let me know. <3

Masterlist | Read ch 2 here

"Casey!" You called, hurriedly walking between the rows of files while looking down at the paperwork in your hands. TVA's library was either your favorite place or the place you hated the most. No in-between. It was your favorite when you stopped by to lounge in the armchairs and read your books in the calming silence. But when you had to traverse between the cramped shelves in search of files, that's when you hated it.

"Casey?" You called again, still turning the pages with a frown on your face.

"Yeah, what's up?"

The sudden voice caught your attention and you raised your head just in time to not walk straight into your friend. You chuckled to yourself, coming to stand beside him in the small space between the tall shelves. "I was going through this report and it mentions a code 581, I've never heard that one before." With your finger, you pointed to the underlined letters on the report.

"Oh, that's a fun one," Casey smiled, taking the papers from your hands, "it's kind of a rare case actually, it's when two variants appear simultaneously…"

While you spoke with Casey, all the way on the other side of TVA's weirdly shaped building, and one floor above, stood Mobius with Loki by his side; both of them leaning on the railings and observing you from afar.

"How long did you say she's been here?" Loki asked, his eyes never leaving your form. His face had a complicated expression, almost as if he was still figuring out how to feel about actually seeing you, the same girl from the life he was supposed to have.

"I didn't, I said that time passes differently here in the TVA," Mobius spoke beside him, his eyes slowly shifting between you and Loki. "But, if I had to guess I'd say the equivalent of around two years."

It's been a couple of weeks since Loki arrived, and in his time here he's been quite helpful for the TVA; not enough to catch the rogue variant, but enough to earn his end of the bargain.

"Is it a habit of yours to keep variants around then?" Loki turned to Mobius with a raised brow.

"Not at all," Mobius chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest. "You two are the only ones so far, and you can thank me for that, by the way."

Loki pursed his lips as he shifted his gaze back to you. He watched as you spoke with Casey, huge smile on your lips as you gestured around saying something he couldn't understand. "Why keep her?" He asked quietly.

Mobius sighed, following the path of Loki's gaze toward you. "Same reason as you, pretty much. She was very... familiar with the Loki from her timeline and I figured she could be of help to us. At first, she was a very tough nut to crack, but it was either that or be pruned so eventually, she agreed, and has helped capture many Loki variants in her time here."

A scoff went past Loki's lips. His hands gripped the railings tighter, heartbeat quickening with each passing second that brought him closer to meeting you. Why he felt this way, he couldn't tell; it was as if his body knew something he didn't. "And, by her timeline, you mean my timeline as well?"

"Technically, yes."

─── ·❆· ───

"Thank you, Casey, I'll see you at lunch," you gave your friend a small wave as you turned to go in opposite directions. The ghost of a smile lingered on your lips as you closed the file's folder, but it faded immediately as soon as you looked up.

Mobius stood in front of you, he said your name but it sounded like a whisper drowned underwater to your ears, for you were focused on the person a few steps behind him. He had the same raven black curls, the same sharp nose, fair skin, and bright eyes; his features being highlighted by the artificial lights from TVA's infinite floors. He was a ghost. The one from your worst nightmares and most beautiful dreams. A ghost of your past life, one that instantly got your heartbeat skyrocketing and closed up your throat until you couldn't breathe, or talk, or even think.

You were nearly making holes into the file in your hands with the force you held it with, knuckles going white.

Taking a step closer, Mobius called your name again. He tried reaching out towards you but you took a sharp step back. "There's someone who would like to meet you," he settled for saying, calmly, gesturing behind him.

Forming words became a struggle for you. Your lips parted only to tremble with no sound coming from your mouth. Inhaling sharply, you straightened your posture. "No." You said with finality, your eyes not leaving the ones that reminded you of your Loki.

A frown appeared on his features and he looked like he was about to speak, but you beat him to it, finally looking at Mobius; "You. Me. Storage room, now."

With that, you turned around and took urgent steps to the back of the library, shoving open the door that led to a small storage room for older files no one needed anymore. You turned the switch for the single orange light hanging from the ceiling and then clawed at your scalp, trying your best to regulate your breathing.

Mobius walked in, closing the door behind him. "Listen I can-"

"Explain?" You finished for him, urgency and anger dripping from each syllable, "yeah, you better. What was that? Who is he?"

"We were about to get to that before you stormed off." Mobius shrugged.

"Cut the bullshit, Mobius," you sighed, hands coming to rest on your waist.

"He's a Loki, you've met a hundred of them already."

You bit your lip to hold back the tears stinging behind your eyes. "Yeah, I have, and none of them were-" you hesitated, "None of them looked like-" You swore under your breath when your voice betrayed you.

"Your Loki?"

Mobius' quiet words got you closing your eyes, there was compassion in his voice, being one of the only people here who really knew what you've been through. A long sigh escaped your lips, along with some of the anger, leaving room only for the emptiness that has been following you around for years now.

"Is he?" You were afraid to know, but you asked anyway.

"He was going to be," Mobius took a step closer to you, and this time you allowed him to rest a hand on your shoulder, his thumb brushing against the fabric of your dress shirt. "He came from your timeline, roughly after his attempt at taking over earth."

An unamused chuckle escaped your lips and a single tear ran down your cheek, but you were quick to wipe it away. "Jesus, Mobius. You can't be serious." You looked him straight in the eyes then, voice strained; "you can't be doing this to me."

"He insisted," Mobius raised both hands in front of his chest in a halfhearted attempt to calm you down. "He insisted, okay? He saw you in his file, he wanted to know who you were. What was I supposed to do? He saw you and didn't know who you were but it was clear that you were important, and he felt that too."

A beat of silence passed, and then; "I mean," Mobius chuckled softly, shaking his head; "you should have seen his eyes when he saw you, he looked worse than you do now."

You sniffled, avoiding your teary eyes from his gaze. "What were you supposed to do? Well, what about talking to me first, you oaf," you told him, though there was no malice in your words.

"I'm sorry," Mobius shrugged, not sure of what else he could say to you. "I just figured it wouldn't be fair to either of you if I didn't introduce you. Or, reintroduced you."

You doubted you'd be able to form a coherent thought in your mind right now with the amount of emotions you were going through. But you knew he was right, deep down you did. You just weren't sure what to make of it yet, seeing a Loki who would eventually become your Loki; who, essentially, was your Loki. Just not yet.

It nearly sent you into a panic attack. Seeing him again was all you ever wanted when you lost him, yet now that it's happening, you're not sure if you can handle it. Or if you still want it.

Mobius tried to find your gaze with his, and as if reading your mind, he said; "Isn't this what you wanted when you first got here? To see him again?"

"That's not me anymore, Mobius," you spoke before you could stop yourself. "I'm- I'm not that person anymore." Your voice was quiet, muffled behind the walls you'd built around your wounded heart. "Besides, that's-" You stumbled over your words, tasting your tears on the corner of your lips, "that's not him. That's not the Loki I knew."

"How can you say that, you didn't even speak to the guy," Mobius gestured to Loki's general direction outside of the storage room.

"Yeah well, I don't have to!" You snapped, and closed your mouth soon after, mumbling an apology. "I just- He's not him," you said quieter, almost as if saying it again and again would make it true.

"Maybe not yet," Mobius reasoned, pursing his lips as he mulled over unsaid words; "But he is, otherwise he wouldn't have seen his future with you. You know that."

You buried your hands in the pockets of your pants because you could feel how heavily they were shaking. You bit your lip until you tasted blood. "I can't. I'm sorry, Mobius, but I can't. You tell him I want nothing to do with him." The words rolled off your tongue quickly and strained, you didn't give Mobius time to answer you before you were shoving open the door of the storage room and rushing outside.

From the side of your eyes, as you walked, you noticed Loki leaning against one of the file shelves. He perked up when he saw you, straightening his posture and softening his gaze as he took half a step towards you.

You didn't spare him a second glance before turning your back to him and hurrying to the opposite way.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Read ch 4 here

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.

Loki’s taglist: @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @justaproudslytherpuff @justanotherkpopstanlol @chronicallybubbly @chaoticqueen33 @7minutes-tomidnight @uncle-eggy @oliviaewl @dd122004dd @tani725 @lokihaha34 @levanneisdumb @innebulae @mochminnie @mayemperess @alyeskathewave @buginktsworld @cremebruleequeen @wyvernthekriger @cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson @avengersfan25 @mischief2sarawr @yokolesbianism @athenasproverbs @h-l-vlovesvintage @princess-ofthe-pages @daisy-the-quake @talesofadragon @rainbowsocks @alexandra-001 @mary-jinx @stevenknightmarc @falconxsoldier @ladymercury8 @shirukitsune @ladymischief11 @starkzdaughter

[twig-tea]

With 23.5 finally coming out, the people are rejoicing at finally getting a high profile gl from GMMTV. But there have already been several gls airing this year, including my fav TsukuTabe, that have been flying under the radar with fandom, and in general there are more gls already out there than folks seem to think. I just know you have a list of all the gls we should be watching, please share with the class!

Thank you for the ask! How did you know I had a draft of GL recs to make at some point? [Trick question, I mentioned it to you.]

It may seem like I'm out here hating on GL because i've made a couple of negative reviews of recently airing series recently (Love Senior and Chaser Game W in case you're curious) but I actually have lots of GL that I love and that I wish were better known! Thanks for sending this ask so I am inspired to actually finish it! I've limited myself to series so that I could keep the list and this post to a reasonable length. Where possible I've listed where you can find each of these and included a link. And I've included an 'elevator pitch' summary but I am NOT in marketing for a reason, so please don't roast me too hard for my terrible comparisons. Alright, enough waffling!

Twig's GL Rec List

She Loves to Cook and She Loves to Eat S1 & 2 (Japan, 2022 & 2024, both seasons fansubbed by @furritsubs; if you need help accessing this show feel free to DM me!)

Elevator pitch: Our Dining Table with lesbians and an even slower burn. Watch for beautiful food, acespec rep, mental health and therapy rep

What might turn some off: Extremely low heat, and quite slow-moving; warning for a disordered eating and family trauma plot (v gently handled)

Let's start with the one you've already mentioned. This is a heartwarming slice-of-life slow burn in which an autismspec-coded woman who likes to eat is invited by her neighbour, a femme acespec woman who loves to cook, to come and eat her food. It starts from a very practical place (when you love making food you need someone to help eat it), but their relationship grows as they spend more time together. The story follows them as they both move towards self-actualization in several ways: as a lesbian, as asexual, at work, with their families, with their friends, with each other. This show is so careful to say the important words aloud. And there is so much delicious cooking! Each episode highlights a particular recipe, and the food porn is real. Do not watch while hungry, but definitely watch. The found famiy vibes in this one one are also immaculate.

She Makes My Heart Flutter (Korea, 2022, YouTube)

Elevator pitch: Younger lesbian friend group tries to help out (slightly) older lesbian bar owner with mixed success. I can't think of a good BL equivalent, The Moment Since feels the closest with its similar bartender/patron romance

What might turn some off: Comedic tone; short runtime; struggles with being closeted

This is a gem of a miniseries about a bar owner and an interior designer who smoulder at one another while an intrepid group of younger bar regulars (including the bar owner's neice) meddle. This series is really cute, solid, and full of sapphics! Once again found family vibes are immaculate (you may sense a theme in my faves). Run don't walk.

Fragrance of the First Flower (Taiwan, 2021, GagaOOLala)

Elevator pitch: Right-person-wrong-time/second chance romance; tonally is a little like We Best Love 2: Fighting Mr. 2nd but with an ambiguous ending.

What might turn you off: Medium heat, second chance romance means they break up once, internalized homophobia, adultery/cheating, at one point there's a creepy dude, child with autism (depicted well), ambiguous ending

At its core this is a story of a woman who can't stop getting in the way of her own happiness. This series is a little more sad than the rest of this rec list but I couldn't not include it because this relationship is so poignant. Plus there's a s2 that supposedly is to come out in 2024 so maybe we'll get our happy ending after all?

Love Greater Than or Equal to 70 Degrees C (Korea, 2019, YouTube)

Elevator pitch: Ingredients but with lesbians staring at one another over beautiful tea pairings! What more could you ask for?

What might turn you off: Low heat; short runtime; ambiguous ending; like Ingredients this is essentially a long ad for the café it's filmed at.

This is a Korean miniseries about passionate tea sommeliers making really fancy tea while staring at one another a LOT. Perfect sapphic representation, 10/10 no notes. This one packs a lot of the drama tropes into its short runtime, so even though it's short it's full of butterfly-inspiring moments.

Sleep With Me (Philippines, 2022, GagaOOLala/iWantTFC/Netflix w/VPN set to Philippines)

Elevator pitch: The Truth About Cats and Dogs but the self esteem issues are handled without catfishing. BL equivalent: Hmmm. Closest I can think of is Gaya Sa Pelikula.

What might turn you off: There's some ableism (treated as such) in this show; Open ending.

Stellar GL between a late night radio DJ and an insomniac who listens to her show. One of the main couple is a wheelchair user and the show tackles ablelism and navigating disability in relationship as well as feelings of inadequacy in a relationship and how that manifests as interpersonal conflict.

Our Relationship Ended Before it Began (Korea, 2022, YouTube)

Elevator Pitch: Along the lines of I Cannot Reach You; the show gives both perspectives and they are held back by queer angst.

What might turn you off: No kiss (but they make it very clear both want to kiss), internalized homophobia

Really sweet miniseries about having a crush and being afraid of being hurt so you don't actually make a move. I really like the way the girl who has not dated a girl before defaults to gender roles and it throws the more experienced lesbian lol I also really like the way this show makes clear that both of them are waiting for a kiss, and that if you get in your head about things, it can get in the way of your own happiness!

Pearl Next Door (Philippines, 2020, Youtube)

Elevator Pitch: Gameboys but with lesbian vloggers.

What might turn you off: Love triangle, lots of teasing but low heat in the end, a lot of (good) conversations about mental health issues, ambiguous ending

This is the GL spinoff to Gameboys, starring Pearl from Gameboys. Pearl ends up being fought over by the two gorgeous women in the gif, an old love and a new. I love the queer friendships in this story as much as the relationships. I will say it's an open ending (that felt a bit like the showrunners didn't want to decide between ships) and definitely the love triangle features prominently but even in the face of these aspects that would normally turn me off a series I had a good time. The characters and interpersonal conflicts feel very real, and are allowed to be complex even when the show tone is comedic.

Dear Uranus (Taiwan, 2021, YouTube)

Elevator Pitch: Schoolgirl ensemble GL; a little like My School President but without the singing.

What might turn you off: Short runtime; ambiguous ending; a little bit of bullying; very standard romance trope execution

The first Taiwanese GL miniseries, this series was produced by a Taiwanese lesbian couple (Rabbit & Wolf)! Lots of excellent drama tropes, and incredibly gorgeous women (I think the entire watching audience fell in love with Erol.

Lily Fever (Korea, 2015, YouTube)

Elevator pitch: Complete crack; YYY but with more kissing and frankly an even less coherent story.

What might turn you off: The lack of coherent plot; less a romance and more a very thirsty lesbian kissing everyone she can

This miniseries is utter chaos. Nothing really makes sense, it's all just random excuses to cause very suggestive moments (and kissing) to happen. I love so much how this series depicts women being so absolutely thirsty for one another (and yes that date isn't a typo, this series is ~9 years old). Not an "happy ever after" ending but it really isn't that kind of story.

Chasing Sunsets (Philippines, 2020, YouTube)

Elevator pitch: Ocean Likes Me with lesbians. Resort romance with a mental health twist.

What might turn you off: Some of the mental health stuff gets intense, this was filmed in 2020 so the pandemic features heavily; hopeful but slightly ambiguous ending.

A complex story from the Philippines covering mental health and finding yourself. A woman shows up to a resort and befriends one of the women running the resort. They get closer as they spend time together, and the resort owner realizes something is off. There's also a BL side couple in this series.

Show Me Love (Thai, 2023, YouTube)

Elevator pitch: A little like My Day the series with lesbians, in that they work together and fall in love and it's full of tropes

What might turn you off: The advertising for the Miss Grand competition, there is some bullying and cheating (though way less than I was expecting tbh), not a lot actually happens, the editing gets a bit wonky at the end

This is essentially a massive ad for the Miss Grand Thailand competition; this GL was produced by the same company that produces that competition, and the stars are mostly Miss Grand competitors. The main pairing were shipped in the actual competition, and the company decided to make a GL about them. It's very slow paced and low-stakes, and there are better kisses than I expected considering everything I just said about where this show came from. There are a lot of cute moments!

Girlfriend Project (Korea, 2022, YouTube)

Elevator Pitch: Love Class with lesbians

What might turn you off: One of the leads is kind of mean in that pgitail-pulling way? It ends abruptly (but happily)

This is a short miniseries about two girls paired in a class that are assigned to "date". The chemistry is chemistrying. And there is a kiss (a good kiss, and a tiptoes kiss at that!). This show also has one of my favourite tropes, in which someone who seems like a pushover stands up for themselves and their partner finds it very attractive. For the record, in this show they are watching another GL by the same company, Love Tech.

Lulu (Philippines, 2022, Vivamax/grey)

Elevator Pitch: Present Perfect with lesbians (but with a better ending).

What might turn you off: Depictions of panic attacks, brief depiction of drowning, pandemic lockdowns, illness, exes, waffling, happy but open ending (which I actually liked for this story)

Two women trying to move on from the garbage in their lives meet at the beach of a B&B (where one saves the other from drowning) and become one another's company during their escape and then something more. They both have baggage that seems determined to keep them apart even as they continue to be drawn together. In the end, they decide to stick it out and see where they end up, with no guarantee of happily ever after, which I found very sweet. Requires either a VivaMax account or searching the grey for it, but it's worth the effort (check MyDramaList comments for suggestions on where to find it). Plus one of the leads has a cactus as a pet.

Welcome to the Lesbian Bar (Korea, 2023, YouTube)

Elevator Pitch: A little like Fudanshi Bartender but without the fudanshi bartender and all of the bar patrons are lesbians lol

What might turn you off: Short, can get a little bit preachy, abrupt ending

Cute short series with different very stories every episode as different patrons visit the bar. The stories range from women who have been together for awhile, to people meeting from an online app for the first time, to someone visiting a lesbian bar for the first time; and yet the story all weaves together in a way that's satisfying though ends abruptly. Includes some solid marriage equality propaganda.

GAP the Series (Thai, 2022, YouTube)

Elevator Pitch: Kind of the vibes of Together with Me but lesbians and in an office instead of school. Angry boss falls for charming new intern and

What might turn you off: This one is the highest heat of all these recs; homophobia especially amongst family, brief depictions of death by car, brief mentions of suicide, cheating, bullying, abuse of power in the office.

A list would not be complete without this one! Honestly the plot is a bit wobbly but the show is a lot of fun. The girls are very cute, the feelings and tension builds really well between them, the friend group is excellent, and in the special we get a wedding.

---

The rest of these have caveats of one kind or another, but i couldn't leave them off a rec list, so here are the side couples and censored stories that are still worth your time anyway (I might do a separate more detailed post for these, as well as for films, one day if there's interest):

Nevertheless (GL side; Korean, 2021, Netflix) Not sure it's worth watching a whole kdrama for side lesbians? Search soljiwan on youtube. They are great. Even the Netflix account stans them. I watched this (ngl, I watched the SolJiwan cut) as it aired and was constantly braced for it to let us down but it did not! A really good friends-to-lovers story.

Friend Zone 2: Dangerous Area (GL side; Thailand, 2019, YouTube): These sapphics are messy and I love them. Decent conversation about dating someone with mental health issues in this series, and they're one of the only couples in this ensemble to get a happy ending. If you're just watching the lesbian couple (which you can, their story is pretty self-contained) you don't need to have seen s1.

Six Survivors (GL side; Japan, 2022, Viki) This show is a horror comedy and it is SO MUCH FUN. Warning for zombies and blood, but way less than you might think. One of the eponymous 6 survivors is a lesbian who keeps trying to convert them to veganism lol. If you watched Chaser Game W you'll recognize one of the actresses in this, the lead actress is from Kamisama no Ekohiiki, and one of the guys is from the prequel series His as well as I Want to See Only You! And yes there is a kiss. Also a surprising number of Mallrats references. Not for people who can't handle gore or relationships being complicated/not a "true love" story/ambiguous ending.

Kamisama no Ekohiiki (complicated question of is it GL in parts, Japan, 2021, furritsubs once again coming through to save the day) This one is a bit complex because there's bodyswap, but the girl who falls for the bodyswapped boy-in-a-girl's-body is clear that she is only interested in the girl. One of the better bodyswap stories because the bodyswap is not a secret for very long, so instead there's a lot of introspection about what gender means and who/what they are attracted to. Feels wrong to call this GL, necessarily, but it's very queer.

Couple of Mirrors (Censored GL, China, 2021, Viki) Story of a rich girl and her assassin girlfriend. This production did an amazing job getting away with what they could, just don't watch the last five minutes and we've got essentially a happy lesbian family.

Legend of Yunze (Censored GL, China, 2021, @douqi7s) Very cute very low budget xianxia miniseries with two seasons and a special. The special is set in modern times in a future lifetime so if you want a cute censored-but-clearly-a-soulmate-love-story this is the one for you. Don't be thrown off by the weird cuts/abrupt episode endings, that's in line with cdramas in general.

Led Astray by Love (Censored GL, China, 2021, @douqi7s) A very fun and adorable isekai story in which a modern day girl is transported to a wuxia novel setting and has to figure out how to get home, and gets romanced by the princess along the way.

And a few additional links for people who even more content:

My Indian sapphic webseries rec list

My suggestions for content with toms (Thai category that's similar to but not exactly the same as butch lesbians) in response to this post.

This really good GL MyDramaList list (not made by me!) lists what seems to be everything I've mentioned and about 200 more. Even I haven't seen a few of these!

My YouTube playlist of sapphic content: This includes anything I stumble across or find in my searches, a lot of music videos and random shorts as well as some microseries and miniseries that I don't consider GL but are WLW/sapphic in addition to true "GL" content. For serialized content, I add just the first ep. A complete mess, but you can trawl through to find stuff to watch, like Hetero!

SOONOTSUE: The same producers of She Makes My Heart Flutter have other short series on their channel worth checking out; if you liked that one, try Out of Breath!

Shakeshoulder: Thai YouTube producers of very pulpy (read: low budget and dramatic plots) shorts

FuFuKnows: This YouTube channel is owned by a gay Taiwanese couple that produces shorts every week, including some with GL mains and sides. These are very low budget but cover a whole swath of queer themes.

@douqi7s is a godsend providing subtitles for all kinds of content, including sapphic shorts and more series than I've listed here. Check their tumblr for links to all of their content; A Practical Guide to Being a Superstar's Assistant has one of the best setups to giving us great moments in the guise of something else so that they get past censorship I've ever seen; I also recommend The Vampires if you're into genre fiction, as well as Legend of Yunqian if you enjoyed the xianxia parts of Legend of Yunze. @wlwcatalogue did an excellent summary of many of the non-wuxia options here.

Quick pitch for the streaming platform GagaOOLala; it's affordable, has a ton of content, including a whack of GLs (originals, license series, and a ton of shorts), and is run by queer people out of Taiwan who care about good quality queer content being made and having an audience, and using the soft power from those successful series to support social change. And if you can't afford a subscription it's worth checking out what they have for free, they open up temporary free access to some things for various events throughout the year.

In searching for gifs for this post I found fellow tumblr user @drowningparty 's WLW compendium list; they've listed more series and films so check it out if you still need more content!

*wipes sweat off brow* that should be enough to be getting on with, but it's really just the tip of the iceberg! If there's something specific you want to see with sapphics let me know and I can tell you if I know it exists. Anyway, I hope this gives you and everyone else a taste of what all is out there! I of course always want more, I am serious about being a sapphic dragon hoarding every crumb i can get my lizardy hands on, but I do think what we have should also be appreciated more. If I missed one of your faves, please tell me!

[sometimesanalice]

Like I Can (Part 3)

Summary: After yet another bad date and tired of swiping on apps, the Dagger Squad steps in to help you out by setting you up on a series of blind dates. Much to Rooster’s dismay.

Warnings: fluff, swearing, slight angst. Minors DNI

Length: 7.2K

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw X Female Reader

Part 1 | Part 2

(All’s well that ends well❣️ Enjoy!)

You’d been on edge all day. 

Having slept terribly the night before, you’d woken up early and giving up on the idea of going back to sleep had ended up at a sunrise yoga class, hoping that some movement would help you clear your mind. By the end of the hour you were even more frustrated than you were before you arrived, the poses feeling unnaturally forced instead of flowing seamlessly as they usually did. 

So much for some goddamn inner peace.

Work was even worse. You had arrived to find that the espresso machine was broken. And whoever made a pot on the ancient drip machine, that was undoubtedly pulled out of a dingy storage closet somewhere, clearly hated everyone else since it tasted like tar. You could barely focus enough to clear out your inbox, when your work nemesis started breathing down your neck about a proposal that wasn’t due for another two weeks. 

Time was dragging on. And every time you looked at the clock thinking it had been at least an hour since you’d last checked, were continually shocked to see that barely fifteen minutes had passed by. Thankfully it was Friday, so your boss didn’t care when you called it a day and left at lunch. It was better for everyone this way.

You had tried painting your nails, but didn’t have the patience to let them dry and smudged them trying to open a package of crackers. Ignoring the crumbs that got everywhere as you ate them while working the cotton pad over the remnants of your pretty pink polish. Your new favorite show didn’t hold your attention like it usually did and you found yourself mindlessly scrolling on your phone, missing most of the plot you’d had to restart it. Twice.

Not even the scenic drive along the coast to the restaurant you were supposed to meet your date at had done anything to alleviate your nerves.

You had been surprised at the choice of location when you had received the text message with the information about this particular date. As much as you enjoyed going to the Hard Deck, you were very much looking forward to drinking something other than a beer. Sure, Penny could make a mean spicy margarita, but sometimes an overpriced aesthetically pleasing cocktail just hit the spot better than anything else. 

But most of all, you were thankful for a change of pace and the privacy this offered you. You had never been one for the spotlight, and dating on display had left you feeling drained.

You’re sitting in a surprisingly comfortable wooden wicker dining chair on the outdoor patio of the new trendy fusion restaurant you’ve been dying to come to. From your spot tucked away in the corner you can see the ocean waves rolling in and back out again. The golden rays already promising a stunning sunset later in the evening.

The foliage of the giant potted monsteras and birds of paradise made the terrace feel like a lush oasis, and contrasted stylishly against the large painted terracotta tiles on the ground. The pergola that covered it was dotted wisteria amongst the other climbing greenery, and numerous oversized hanging rattan sconces. The dainty lights woven throughout reflecting off the wine glasses on the table.

This was exactly what you needed. Too bad you couldn’t let yourself enjoy it, the twisted knots in the pit of your stomach had served a constant reminder of your nerves all day.

You had used this date as an excuse to finally buy the deep green floral dress you’d had your eye on for ages. The gentle drape of the neck was subtly sophisticated, while the high slit on the side added some serious sex appeal. 

There was nothing wrong with a little retail therapy you had told yourself as you’d swiped your credit card. If you looked good, maybe it would help you to feel good.

In all honesty, it probably had a little too much sex appeal since you couldn’t stop fidgeting in your chair trying to get the silky dress cover up more of your thigh that was currently displayed rather provocatively. It felt like the more you tried to get it to lay right the more of your leg was exposed. 

It probably didn’t help that you couldn’t stop the restless bouncing of your leg. You weren’t usually an antsy person, leg bouncing had always been more of Rooster’s anxious habit than yours.

Maybe you’ll feel less exposed once you draped the linen napkin across your lap. You’re tempted to do it now, but you don’t want to disturb the artfully laid out tablescape before your date has arrived.

It had been three weeks of back to back truly terrible dates. You could see the finish line now, but you couldn’t say that it wasn’t wearing on you. It had sounded like fun in theory, but now you weren’t so sure you would said yes again if you were offered a do-over. 

You were tired. 

Tired of going through the motions with men who could hardly be bothered to do the bare minimum. Tired of trying to sell the best version of yourself. Tired of putting on a show when all you wanted to find was an easy kind of love.

And this particular date had you more on edge and anxious than any of the other ones you’d gone on.

Even if you were pressed, you could not remember a single thing about the guy Payback had set you up with on your most recent blind date.

That evening you hadn’t even bothered trying to put together a cute outfit for the meeting. Instead, the only real effort you’d opted to put in was painting your lips a bright red as an attempt to psych yourself up for it. You didn’t usually wear such a bold color, but when you did it never failed to make you feel more brilliant.

And while you couldn’t remember anything about your date, what you did vividly remember was the fight you got into with Rooster that night.

You had been coming back from the restroom and on your way back to your date when you had bumped into him rounding the corner. 

“Sorry, that was my fault,” he’d said as he reached out to steady you with hand going to your waist, dropping it once he realized it was you. “Oh, hey.”

Glancing over to your date who seemed absorbed in some game he was playing on his phone, you figured he wouldn’t miss you if you spent a few extra minutes away to catch up with Rooster.

He had been acting really distant lately, taking a couple days to respond to texts rather than a couple of hours like it usually took him. Natasha had told you about the rigorous training they were being put though, and you had assumed it probably had something to do with that. However, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off between you two.

Rooster was already pulling away from you and taking a step towards the bar when you reached out grabbing his wrist to keep him with you. Looking around for a quiet place to talk, you’d heard him sigh behind you, but still held on to him as you made your way to one of the high-top tables in the corner by the empty stage. 

You’d stopped and let go as you turned towards him, only to find him already looking at you with an expression that landed somewhere between expectant and exasperated. The cuffs of his shirt straining around his biceps as he crossed his arms over his chest. 

“Well?” he grunted out.

Was he mad at you? You couldn’t think of any recent arguments you’d had recently that would explain the harsh tone he was using with you. 

“Is everything ok? I feel like you’ve been really off lately. You know I’m always here for you, right?” Your hand was already reaching out to touch him, but you resisted the urge not wanting to further agitate him.

“Nothing’s wrong. I’m surprised you even have time to talk to me with all these washouts you’ve been wasting your time on. You’re the one with the busy social calendar, not me.” He was looking over the top of your head avoiding your gaze now, the bitterness in his voice had stunned you. 

“Seriously? What is the matter with you?” 

He’d never been so intentionally callous with you before and it hurt. 

“Listen, if there is an issue me dating the people your friends have been setting me up with, you need to let me know,” you’d said pointing a firm finger at him, your anger rising. “This was supposed to be a fun no pressure situation, but I don’t want to be in the middle of this if things are getting heated between you guys. It’s not worth it to me. But you don’t get to ignore me for days and then claim that I’m the one avoiding you.”

He made a noise of frustration as he dragged both hands through his curls. You could see the flex of his jaw as he’d clenched his teeth together.

“Look, I’m sorry,” he ducked down to that his eyes were level with your, and you could see the remorse in them. “You’re right, that was shitty of me to take it out on you. I’m just… tired.”

You’d simply nodded at him, feeling like you weren’t on the same page as him didn’t sit well with you. “Phoenix told me about your new training program, it seems intense,” your voice sounded small even to your own ears.

“Yeah, the training,” he’d sighed out pausing for a moment as he weighed his words, rubbing at his chest, “It’s taking a toll on me, but that’s my problem. I mean it, I’m sorry.”

“Are we good?” you searched his eyes, your friendship with him was so important to you.

“You and me? We’re good, kid. Always.” He’d reached out and squeezed your shoulder before heading back to where the group was gathered together pretending like they weren’t just watching your argument play out. 

Needless to say, your head was somewhere elsewhere entirely as you made your way back to your date. You’d felt bad being so distracted, but your mind just kept playing the argument on repeat. It was like your brain was trying to pull apart every little word to decode something that you didn’t think was there.

After Payback’s friend had left, you rejoined everyone else around the pool table. You couldn’t tell if the mood was off or if it was just you reading into things, since they hadn’t been prodding you with questions like they usually did.

Natasha was in the middle of giving you a glowing review of the man she had been bragging about since she first offered to set you up, when Rooster came to sit with you both.

“He’s just your type. He’s an engineer, so he’s smart. He’s got that whole glasses wearing and floppy hair thing going for him. And he’s funny. Rumor has it that he talked back to his Rear Admiral one time and got away with it because the guy had found him amusing. I fully expect you to name one of your future children with him after me.”

Rooster had surprised the pair of you when he stood up so violently that he almost knocked over the beers on the table. 

“What the fuck, Bradshaw?” Nat had exclaimed as you both worked to rescue the teetering bottles from becoming casualties from his sudden movement.

You had no idea what he was going to say as an explanation for why he’d jumped out of his seat the way he did, but what he ended up unexpectedly announcing instead of answering Nat’s question had sent you into a tailspin.

So now here you are in a restaurant you’d be dying to go to, fidgety and anxious in a probably-too-expensive-and-probably-too-provocative dress for a first date with the guy who Rooster was willing to break his long-standing rules for to set you up with.

To say you were feeling the pressure was an understatement. No one knew you like Rooster did. He’d seen you at your best and at your worst. He wouldn’t just pick any random guy he knew, he would be picking the one who he thought would be the best for you.

The thought should be comforting, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of uneasiness.

You pick up your phone again and double check the time in the text that Rooster had sent you with all the details for your date with his friend. 

It was either that do that again or moving the ever-so-slightly crooked gold salad fork back into place.

You’re about to open Instagram for the third time since you sat down, turning when you hear a throat clear purposely behind you.

“Hey, sweet girl.”

For Rooster, when you’d first agreed to participate in the bet with his friends those dates started off as annoying inconveniences. Just inconsequential disruptions that got in the way of his time with you.

You were his best friend and at his bar, yet he felt like he’d hardly seen you these past couple of weeks- or at least not as much as he would have liked. 

Sure, he got some time with you here and there at the end of the night like when you had late night tacos on the beach. Or when he’d taught you his favorite pool trick, well more like attempted to teach you, he loved how stunningly bad you were at the game. But he felt like he was competing with these idiots his friends had picked out for your time and your attention. 

He wasn’t used to sharing you. In the past, if you had a date that conflicted with something spontaneous he wanted to do or something that the group had planned together, more often than not he could get you to move it or cancel completely.

He’d never been above a little bribery to get his way, he knew what you liked.

You going on dates wasn’t a new concept to him, but seeing them paraded in front of him was a different story. And he was getting really tired of watching you from across the bar while feeling like you were out of reach.

The more of them you went on, and the more he heard Natasha crowing about having the perfect man for you the more agitated he felt. The worse that feeling in the pit of his stomach got. 

The evening of date for Payback’s pick, they’d all seen you walk in through the doors of the Hard Deck wearing that shade of red lipstick. You’d wore it so well. His friends had immediately started speculating about what it meant. Phoenix had called them all idiots, and while he couldn’t claim to know anything about make-up and those things, he did know you didn’t just wear that color for no reason. 

He had vague memories of his mom putting the color on when they’d go greet his dad, at least he like to think those were his memories. Or maybe they were just something he’d created in his head from all the time he had spent looking at old photos of his mom and dad together, her smile always outlined in the color. His favorite was the one where his dad’s cheeks were covered in bright red lipstick kisses as he smiled indulgently down at his mom while a young Bradley was propped on her hip clutching his prized F-14 Tomcat. He had that one framed on the end table next to his couch. 

And seeing that color on you for a date with this random guy had rattled him.

He’d felt so terrible later that evening when he took those feelings out on you. Hating himself as he lashed out at you. Hating himself as he saw your face fall and the hurt in your eyes. Hating himself for being the person who made you feel bad.

And the crux of it all was that you weren’t wrong, he had been deliberately distant by being slow to reply and ignoring texts from you. He wasn’t proud of it, but he didn’t know what else to do. He’d hoped by creating some space that it would help him to try and get his head back on straight. 

He’d let you assume that he was tired from the new training program they were being put through. What he didn’t tell you was that he was already outperforming everyone on the team, and that he hadn’t had to do any extra push-ups in a week and a half. 

He was tired because he hadn’t been sleeping, and he couldn’t sleep because every time he tried to close his eyes all he could see was you on these dates. Replaying them in his mind’s eye wondering what the outcome would have been had they not gone so terribly wrong each time.

The what-ifs swarming around his brain day and night like agitated hornets.

While he had been quick to apologize for being a dick, the sharp pain that settled behind his sternum wouldn’t subside no matter how much he had tried to rub it away.

He didn’t know what was more unbearable, the idea of losing you to a chance encounter of circumstance. Some meet cute courtesy of the universe that he couldn’t see coming until it was too late, when it’s already too far out of his hands and out of his control. To see you grinning that smile so bright, the one so wide it made your dimples appear, as you introduced that guy to him. 

Or sitting here night after night analyzing every little thing as you date the people some of his closest friends had picked out for you. Watching and hoping that these dates would just be funny stories you told on drunken nights out rather than the story told at your wedding about the night that everything changed when you met your person. Of having to be happy for you even as you pull away from him.

His ears were ringing and he’d felt his stomach drop. 

He could see it now, a day when your life ran parallel to his rather than entwined as he was used to. Of you with a partner. With children. Of him as ‘Uncle’ Rooster, demoted to the rank of ‘longtime friend of the family’ rather than a core member of it. 

The thought of it making him feel sick. 

All evening he had been moving around like a ghost completely lost to the thoughts in his head, but now it felt like he’d been shocked by a live wire. He’d pretty much jumped out of the chair he had just settled in, almost knocking the beers in front of him off the table completely. 

“I want in, I’ll do it,” he’d blurted out, interrupting the conversations that had continued on around him while he had been spiraling. “This whole thing has been a complete shit show. I can’t watch this anymore. I know a guy, I’ll set it up. I’m in.” 

His hands were sweating as he hoped no one would call his bluff. He’d made it a point to actively avoid looking at you. You had such an uncanny way of reading him. 

“I don’t know, Bradshaw. You’re a little late to the game, aren’t you? I’ve been saving the best for last, and I’m ready to collect my winnings.” He’d expected some shit from Hangman, but he never would have guessed it’d come from Phoenix. 

Feeling his anger flare up, he reached into his back pocket and fished out a $100 bill from his worn leather wallet, double the original entry fee. He slapped it down on the table, leaving no room for any further discussion, “I’m the one setting her up for the next date.” 

He’d caught a look between Hangman and Phoenix, but he couldn’t be bothered to read into it as he tried to keep his temper in check.  

He wouldn’t lose you. Not to someone who didn’t deserve you, especially when he already knew the person who could make you happy.

“Alrighty,” Jake had drawled out, as he pocked the bill. “Looks like we have another player. I look forward to taking your money.” 

He’d extended his hand out and they’d all shook on it, reaching Phoenix last her grip firm and her smile sharp. And that was that. 

Now he was here at the new popular restaurant he’d heard you talking about a few weeks ago, his feet cemented to the tiles beneath him just gazing at you. 

He could tell from where he was standing behind you that you were nervous by the way you were opening and closing apps without truly looking at anything. He knew it was a habit of yours when you were feeling anxious, something for your hands to do as you tried to distract yourself.

He had sweet talked the hostess over the phone into reserving the best spot on the outdoor terrace, and you looked so beautiful sitting there wearing his new favorite color. Your hair is held back by a delicate golden clip on one side leaving the line of your neck exposed, the sea breeze picking up a few wisps.  It makes his teeth ache with want.

He knew you were gorgeous, he’d stared down enough men at the Hard Deck to know that others thought so too. However, he’d never let himself sit with those thoughts for too long, not trusting himself to keep his mind from wandering. 

You were his best friend. 

And best friends don’t think about how the other would look so perfect in their bed, that pretty green dress forgotten on the floor. 

Best friends don’t think about how perfect you would look under his arm.

Best friends don’t think about how perfect you would look with his ring on your finger.

Best friends don’t think about how perfect you are for him.

Best friends don’t think about how perfect he is for you.

Him.

It was a good thing he didn’t want to just be your best friend anymore. 

He’d already done too much thinking, done too much waiting. He wasn’t going to miss his moment. 

Taking one more deep breath, he made his way to you.

“Rooster? What are you doing here?” He was the last person you’d expected to see when you turned your head to see who had been trying to get your attention, “Are you ok? What’s wrong?”

Did he get emergency orders? Did your date get in an accident? 

Your anxiousness was quickly morphing into panic, you’re already half way out of your seat when he puts his hand on your shoulder, his thumb stroking the skin there reassuringly. 

He is standing there looking completely at ease, as if he belonged there, “Nothing’s wrong, sweet girl.” 

And there it was again, you hadn’t been sure if your ears were playing tricks on you the first time he’d said it. That simple term of endearment silencing the alarm bells that were going off in your head, the edges of the lush restaurant softening around everything except him.

“Your mom always called me that,” you say softly. 

You cherished all the memories you had with Carole, the woman who had been such a significant figure in your life for so long. You knew your mom still sent Rooster a cake every year to celebrate her birthday from whatever bakery was closest to wherever he was stationed. 

“I know, I remember,” his voice so warm and deep, “She loved you.” 

He says it so simply, so sincerely. As if his presence here hasn’t just completely untethered you and sent you adrift in a sea of bewilderment.

The writhing snake that had made a home all day in the pit of your stomach finally disappeared, only to be replaced with the fluttering of wings that you were desperately trying to ignore. 

You’d been so shocked when Rooster had exclaimed that he was going to set you up with someone, your mind had been whirling so much at the time you could barely focus on anything that had been said in the aftermath of his announcement. Maybe you had missed some caveat he’d come up with for his participation in the bet? That could make sense, considering how adamant he had always been in the past about never getting involved in your love life. 

He was standing there looking so good in his best short-sleeved button up shirt, the one that was scattered with vibrant palm leaves that fit snugly against his body. And wearing the white slacks that usually had you looking anywhere else in the room to avoid acknowledging the way they clung to your best friend’s thighs and ass. If only he knew how weak they made you. 

There just has to be a logical reason for why he’s here, but the soft smile on his face was rendering your brain uncooperative. 

You were getting tired of feeling like you were missing something that should be so obvious, “My date is supposed to be here soon, are you going to hover in the back like you have been at the Hard Deck? Or are you just planning on pulling up a chair and third wheeling up close and personal?” 

“Why would I need an extra chair,” he asks as he pulls it out and eases his large frame down onto the wicker seat, “When mine’s already free?” 

You move to open your mouth when the waitress arrives, asking if you had your drink orders selected. 

“I’ll do the Bourbon Sidecar. You feelin’ like a gin, sweet girl?” You just nodded at him mutely, still desperately trying to catch up. “And the Clover Club for her, please.” 

It’s what you were planning on ordering to calm your first date jitters before had Rooster arrived and sent you into a complete tailspin. He hadn’t even looked at the thick textured cardstock of the drink menus that were strategically placed just to the right of the golden soup spoons on the artfully laid out table. 

The butterflies were threatening to break free from the tightly locked cage you had attempted to shove them in. 

The waitress took down the drinks, and you watched her as she crossed the patio pausing to tap away on the screen of their POS, trying to give yourself a few more moments to collect your thoughts. 

“Bradley. I don’t understand, what’s going on?” He’s sitting there looking so secure, so steadfast, so sure. 

His cheek ticks up, “I like it when you call me Bradley. Why did you stop calling me that when you moved out here?” 

“You’re avoiding the question.”

“Why did you stop calling me Bradley when you moved out here?” he asks again, leaning in. How does he expect you to answer a question, when your mind is going 1,190 miles an hour? 

“I don’t know,” you start with a halfhearted shrug. “You’ve made a name for yourself in the Navy, you are ‘Rooster’ to everyone here.” You open your mouth to say more, before closing it quickly.

“There’s more going on in that head,” you feel his foot reach out tapping against yours under the table, before leaving it there a steady presence. “Tell me.”

You know you can tell him anything, but this feels different.

The intensity of his stare has you fighting the flush you feel spreading across your cheeks.

It wasn’t something that you’d ever given much thought to before, but you know if you answer truthfully now that he’s asked you it’s going to leave you feeling more exposed than you’ve ever been with him. 

You sit up more fully in your chair deciding to be brave, “I mean, we haven’t really truly been in the same place since we were teens, and things are so different now. It was easier to start calling you ‘Rooster’ or ‘Bradshaw’ like everyone else, because it didn’t make me feel like I was piece from a different puzzle trying to force myself into a new picture. I wanted to fit into the life that you’ve built here, to feel like I still have a place with you as you are now.”

You’re actively fighting to keep your eyes on his. It would be so easy to look away or to laugh off your confession, but for whatever reason, you don’t want to take the easy out. 

“I never knew you felt like that, but I wish I had,” the look in his eyes is softer than anything you’ve ever seen from him before. “I like being Bradley to you, I want to be Bradley to you. You aren’t just a piece to me, you’re the whole picture. You’ve always had a place here, exactly as you are you are now.”

It’s never been like this between the two of you. It feels like you both are saying too much and not enough all at the same time. As much as you find yourself wanting to sink into these intoxicating yet unfamiliar feelings, you know you’re still holding yourself back.

God, he is so handsome. You had been right, the sunset that was just starting was stunning, but the way golden beams were hitting the lightened strands of his curls was spectacular.

You’re almost too afraid to ask, but it’s unbearable not knowing, “Why are you here right now, Bradley?”

Of course, the waitress chooses that moment to return with the drinks. 

She sets them down in front of you, the skewered raspberries sitting daintily on the side of your glass are suddenly the most fascinating thing in the room. You vaguely hear him saying you both need more time and that he’ll flag her down when you’re ready to order. 

He waits for her to leave to attend to her other tables before turning his heady gaze on you once again.

“I thought I’ve been making my intentions pretty clear here, sweet girl.” 

He takes a sip of his Sidecar before continuing, the slight bounce of his leg the only thing giving him away that he might not be as self-assured as you’d originally thought, “I’m here for our date.”

There’s no hope of containing the butterflies now. You’re a lost cause. 

“Bradley.” You can only imagine the emotions he is reading on your face. It would absolutely break your heart if this was some kind of bad joke.

“He’ll never love you like I can.” 

“What?” you ask sounding every bit as dazed as you feel.

“Sorry, sorry,” he says shaking his head slightly, huffing out a little laugh at himself, “I got ahead of myself.”

You watch as he resituates himself in the chair, wiping his hands on the front of his slacks before restarting. 

“Watching you on those dates has been hell, I don’t want to be jealous of some guy you gave a second glance. I don’t want hold back, not when we can be so much more,” he reaches across the table, taking your hand between his two large ones, “I thought having you as a friend was enough for me, but how am I supposed to sleep at night knowing that I could be the one who makes you happy and then do nothing about it? That I’m the only one who can love you the way you deserve to be loved?”

You’ve always known he’s cared for you, that was unquestionable, but to be loved by Bradley Bradshaw? It was something you’d never let yourself imagine, let alone dared to hope to for. It had been kinder to spare yourself from the heartache that came with hope. But now? With him sitting right here in front of you saying you could have him like this?

Was this how he felt flying in his F-18 every day?

He gets up and rounds the table coming to your side, hooking an ankle around the tapered leg of your chair pulling you out a bit. You’re suddenly very thankful for the probably-too-expensive-and-probably-too-provocative for a first date dress you purchased when you see the way his rich brown eyes turn molten as he gets a glimpse of your exposed thigh.

He settles into a crouch before you, his warm hands seeking out both of yours, “You don’t need Phoenix or anyone else to set you up, because he’ll never love you like I can. Let me show you how good it can be. Let me be it for you, sweet girl.”

The man in front of you is everything you could have ever possibly wanted for yourself. And to be the one who could get to keep him forever? There’s no doubt in your mind, it’s worth everything.

You’re sure you will have to have a more serious conversation about what this means for the two of you, but that can wait for another time when he’s not in front of you with his eyes so earnest. So hopeful. To another time when he’s not wearing his heart on his sleeve as he patiently waits for any kind of response from you.

It would be so easy to lean in and kiss him right now. 

So easy to learn what that mustache would feel like against your skin. 

To learn how his lips and tongue would feel against your own. 

To learn how his mouth would move with yours.

But what’s a couple more hours when you’ve had years to build up to it.

“Well then, Lieutenant. I guess you better show me how it’s done,” you bring your hand up to cup his face, your thumb gently stroking along his cheekbone. “But I’m warning you now, I fully intended to give you as good as I get.” 

Being on the receiving end of a Rooster smile was something special, but it had nothing on the beaming grin that Bradley Bradshaw is giving you now. 

“I wouldn’t expect anything else from you,” he says as he lands a lingering kiss on your cheek before standing and pushing your chair back in for you. “You’ve always known how to keep me on my toes.”

He returns back to his surprisingly comfortable wooden wicker chair, stretching his leg to rest it against yours. When the waitress comes back you both end up picking your meals at random, having been too absorbed with each other to actually bother reading the menu. 

You’d barely eaten all day because of the knots in your stomach, and now you were starving. Thankfully, Bradley at least had the commonsense to ask the waitress to pick her favorite dish as a third entrée “for the table”.

It feels the same in many ways, he knows what to say to make you laugh and what to bring up to get you fired up. And you know what questions to ask to keep him talking and how to push his buttons just right. 

But it’s also different when he doesn’t bother to hide his knowing smirk every time he catches you looking at his lips. And it’s even better when you don’t bother trying to hide yours when you catch him doing the same.

Afterwards, he takes your hand in his as you slowly make your way to the parking lot, his fingers lacing between your own. He surprises you when he leans against the Bronco, murmuring something about not wanting to let your pretty dress get dirty. His long legs extended wide as an invitation for you to come stand between them, his strong hands stroking the silky material of your dress on your hips as you step closer. 

You’ve been ignoring the pull low in your stomach all evening, the tension between you two the most luscious feeling you’ve ever experienced. The combination of his heat, his woodsy smell, the headiness of his gaze on you almost too overwhelming. 

Almost.

Your hands settle on his broad chest, playing with the button of his shirt now a bit nervous. Your faces closer than you’ve ever allowed them to be before. If what you’re hearing is the sound of the waves or the roaring of the blood in your ears, you couldn’t say.

You know he is waiting for you to make the first move. You see the moment when he’s about to say something, knowing him the words would be wonderfully reassuring and perfectly Bradley.

Why would you want to talk when his mouth was already waiting like a question. Why would you want to talk when you could learn what it’s like kiss him instead?

So you do.

When your lips meet his for the first time it feels like the sweetest kind of devotion. 

bradleybradleybradley

His mustache scratching satisfyingly at the skin of your upper lip. His mouth tasting like the Sidecars he sipped on throughout the night and something that was just fundamentally Bradley. 

Your hand moves on its own to stroke the side of his neck, your fingers seeking out the line of the longest scar that adorns his skin there from that night all those years ago. 

Your heart is beating wildly in your chest as he licks his lips before bringing his face down to yours again. Your other hand tightly clutching his shirt in anticipation.

He’s always been so in tune with you, so when he tilts your head just right before leaning into the kiss it feels like a homecoming. 

thisthisthis

One of Bradley’s hands makes its way up your back, pressing you closer to him as the other bands more securely around your waist. And when his tongue skims your lower lip, you sigh into his waiting mouth thankful for his strong grasp on you. 

Nothing your mind could have imagined would have ever come close to the perfection that is Bradley Bradshaw’s mouth moving against yours. Nothing has ever felt so good, so right.

When he pulls away, you’re both over fighting back the smiles that feel like have been permanently fixed on your faces all evening.

“I’m don’t want to call it a night yet,” he tells you, as he brushes the hair back from your face. His smile turning playful, “What do you say, kid? Wanna go get some milkshakes?”

“Depends,” you reply cheekily, “Can I drink it in the Bronco?”

Wrapping both arms around his neck you draw him back in towards you again.

“Anything you want, sweet girl,” he promises against your lips.

The next night at the Hard Deck, you entered the bar with Bradley’s arm draped your shoulders. 

His team whooping loudly when you pull him in for a kiss as he handed you a Blue Moon. They’d declared the drinks were on Bradley that night as they’d swarmed you both in celebration. Maverick pulls you aside to give you a warm hug, whispering “I knew you’d get here” in your ear before releasing you.

Now that you had let yourselves cross that line from friends to more, the pair of you are entirely too aware of the other. Never content to be too far away from the other. Your eyes like magnets, each seeking out the other to find them already looking back.

There’s nothing friendly about the way he has his hands on your waist. Nothing neighborly in the way his hands rub your shoulders. Nothing platonic in the way he rests one hand on the back of your neck, his thumb making teasing circles.

And there’s nothing friendly about the way you run your hands through his curls when he’s at the piano. Nothing neighborly in the way you slide your hand into his back pocket. Nothing platonic in the way you rest your hand on his chest, your finger tracing the line of his collarbone. 

It has always been so easy with him, even as you explore in this new area of your relationship.

You’d been orbiting around each other all night, when Jake yelled out to heckle you both about indecent exposure, threatening to call his cop friend if Bradley didn’t “get his ass over to the pool table in the next thirty seconds.”

He’d peppered your face with kisses before you’d shooed him away, laughing when you realized he had swiped your beer and had taken it with him.

“So you and Bradshaw,” Natasha states as she settles down next to you.

That makes you smile.

“Yeah, me and Bradley.” 

How could you have possibly thought you’d want anyone else other than him? You were a goner from the moment you’d turned and saw him standing there at the restaurant. Your golden boy.

You turn towards her, putting a hand on her arm, “I’m sorry that you didn’t get a fair shot at the bet. I really do appreciate the effort you all went through. I mean, Bradley would have had it in the bag anyways. But still–”

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” she waves a hand, cutting you off, “We had a team meeting and changed the rules of the bet anyways. I still won, so it’s all good.” Her smile was nothing less than mischievous. 

“Wait, what?” 

“We could all see from Rooster’s reaction during that disaster of a first date with all the dogs that he was completely hung up on you. We didn’t want to wait for him to figure it out, so we decided to adjust the terms a bit to help him out,” she laughs at your clearly baffled expression. “We reached out to the cringiest people we knew and set you up with them instead. And then took bets on how long it would take Rooster to get his head out of his ass and go get his girl.”

“Oh my god, seriously?” The revelation has you bursting out in laughter.

“Yep, well except for Bob. His date was a genuine accident, bless him. I’ll be honest, I didn’t even bother reaching out to anyone. I was betting on Rooster getting it together before I needed to step in,” she explains while wearing the most self-satisfied smirk on her face.

Of course Natasha Trace had bet on him. On you.

You couldn’t wait to tell Bradley how you had both been so absolutely played by his team. 

You loved these people. You loved your life here in San Diego. 

“I’d apologize for putting you through all that, but it looks like it worked out well in the end,” she says knowingly nodding her head towards him. 

You’re fully watching him now as he bends over the pool table looking amused at something that Hangman says. 

Bradley looks up catching your eye and shoots a wink in your direction, a grin taking over his whole face. You already know you’re wearing a matching one.

“I wouldn’t change a single thing.”

Thank you so much for all the love on this one! I’ve loved sharing this journey with you all! Happy Valentine’s Day Everyone! 

If you want to know what happens next for these two you can check out my masterlist! 

Written as part of @roosterforme’s #Love Is In The Air TGM Fic Challenge!

Song Inspiration Sam Smith’s “Like I Can”.

Thank you Jordan (@gretagerwigsmuse) as always for being the ultimate hype girl! 

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[spockandawe]

Straw marquetry, mark three!!!! Okay. So. I did two projects where i pasted my material directly onto a backing and then adjusted the edges. And I still haven't done any where I build tiles and assemble them on the backing later. But first I wanted to swerve off the road into something slightly more the realm of traditional wood marquetry, because I wanted to see if I could cut pieces out of a sheet of material, and fill it with something else.

The answer: pretty much!! There's still room for improvement here, I've done VERY little with cutting out Shapes at all, and not all wood veneer techniques map to straw (if i sanded this surface down, I would cry). And I also picked out all circle shapes because ??? I hate myself I guess. But I've been sitting on this GORGEOUS red straw and the perfect frame, and my self-control finally snapped

So, I plotted out a series of overlapping circles, sized very scientifically (based on four bowls in my kitchen) and traced them out onto my primary backing sheet. I wanted to cover with straw up over those lines, but not to waste unnecessary material.

Then I used my bowls as guides to cut out the first few circles and worked to fill them! In traditional marquetry, the advice is to work from background to foreground, so that's what I did here! And i traced out the size of the holes to determine the area i needed to cover for the inset pieces. The lumpiness of the circle below is to account for the overlap from the next piece to follow, making sure there's a clean surface to cut for that window.

I also did some VERY light color sorting, to try to pull out dark red for the biggest circles, pink red for the midsize ones, and orange for the smallest. The orange worked, the others are a bit more ambiguous! Part of the issue is that color variation within a single stalk can be extreme, and I didn't want to get lost in the weeds of subdivisions. The other is that this craft is positively ALLERGIC to overhead lights, as you can probably guess from many of my photos, which meant a lot of my sorting calls were wide open for second-guessing later.

Now, unlike wood, I wasn't really able to glue these to each other. That might change if I step up the backing to a thicker board, but here we were basically working on cardstock. Something to explore later! So for now, I attached my circles using masking tape, but I did experience a SMIDGE of damage to my finish here and there, so I'll drop to a lower tack tape next time. Once everything was assembled, I glued it all to another piece of red paper, squared it up to fit the frame, pressed it overnight, glued it to a piece of foam board, then pressed again.

And then I framed it! This was delightful, and I'm in love with the way the smallest circles pop. And I finally figured out that the trick to photographing these things lying flat is to turn OFF the overhead walls, lmao. I'm extremely pleased with how this came out and looking forward to future projects! This one is so striking, I really look forward to finding more ways to continue escalating, ahahaha

[mcuamerica]

The Shadowsinger: Sixteen

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. SMUT (oral m! and f! rec, size kink it's the wingspan, slight praise kink), ACOTAR series spoilers. If I forgot anything, please let me know!

Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: Azriel visits you in Windhaven.

Disclaimer: I do not own SJM’s characters or plot lines, only the ones I create for the purpose of this story. This is a work of fiction. I do not give permission to repost my work on any other platform or medium. Please be respectful.

My graphics are my own. If you wish to use them, please give credit!

Series Masterlist

Eleven - Twelve - Thirteen - Fourteen - Fifteen

Turns out using a Siphon was harder than it looked. But it was too dangerous to use your power without one. So, you stood in a training ring for the next week with Cassian or one of the Illyrian commanders, trying to conjure a sword. The closest you got was a wooden staff. Most of the time you just got small sticks in your hand that somewhat resembled stakes. 

You could put up a shield if you focused enough. But that was the best you were doing. It drained most of your power. Once the week was up, you were almost willing to quit when you finally made a dagger appear in your hand. And then a shield. And then a sword. 

You hadn’t seen much of Azriel. But he was there when you came back to Windhaven and watched you train for the rest of the day before he left. Rhys needed him out to question the Attor, after he tried to take Feyre in the mortal lands. You gave Rhys a long lecture about putting his mate in danger like that. But from what he told you, she also was pissed at him for it. 

Feyre was starting to do good in Velaris, you learned. She asked Cassian if he could train her. You were tempted to abandon your post at Windhaven and go train with her. You wanted to be around her. Needed to know that she was okay, she was doing well. And maybe you could even push her in the right direction for Rhys. But you couldn’t leave Windhaven. Not when you were just a couple more levels away from being able to try the Blood Rite qualifying course. 

Az told you he hated the idea of you going to the Blood Rite. He said that he knew you could do it, especially with how much you were excelling. But he also said that it was brutal. And you could very well die. 

But you had to prove to the Illyrians that you could do it. A female of this day and age could complete the Blood Rite. Maybe even as a Carynthian. But you know that the males who have that title have it because they were together, they were allies. Even if you qualified for the Rite, you didn’t have any friends that would be with you. It would be only you. And maybe a few males would pity you and not kill you, but you knew that’s the closest to allyship you were going to get. So you promised Az that if you did make it to the Blood Rite, your first priority was to stay alive. To survive. And then maybe if you could get to the mountain, you could be classed as Oristian. And from there, well it would only be your will that would make you climb the mountain. But maybe you would try. If you even qualified. 

Another week passed and you were getting used to using your Siphon. Since the training Siphon didn’t break, you learned Rhys was having an official one fashioned for you. Your power wasn’t as strong as you would have hoped, but you still felt an accomplishment knowing that you got a Siphon. No female you knew ever received one. This only proved that females were capable of killing power, and somehow it was suppressed enough to not manifest. 

It was the last night of the week, and you decided to spend it curled up near the fire, reading all night until you fell asleep. That was until you saw Azriel standing in the kitchen, chopping some sort of vegetables. “Az!” You said happily, dropping your jacket to the side. 

He turned around slowly, a smile on his face. “Hello, sweetheart.” He said. You bounded over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“You and Cass have been ignoring me.” You whispered, sinking into him as his arms wrapped around your lower back, careful to avoid your wings. It felt so right to be with him. In his arms. And his scent was intoxicating. This was how it was supposed to be. 

“Not ignoring, sweetheart, we’ve just been busy. And Cassian needs to train Feyre.” He said, pulling back slowly. 

Azriel raised his hand to push back a strand of hair that fell from your braid, smiling as he looked at you. “You are beautiful.” He whispered. 

Your core heated as you stared into his eyes. The flecks of green standing out against the fire. “I’ve missed you.” You whispered, your hands trailing up to tangle in his hair. “I think I still owe you from the other night.” You murmured as you leaned up, kissing him deeply. You tugged on his hair, slowly backing him up against the kitchen counter. 

He melted into the kiss, opening his mouth as you trailed your tongue on his bottom lip. You couldn’t get enough of him. What you would give to taste him right now! You groaned and removed your hands from his hair, moving them to his pants as you unbuckled the belt he had on. You silently asked your shadows to keep his hands from stopping you. 

You kissed him once more before pulling away, looking into his eyes. “Is this okay?” You asked. 

He smirked, gripping your waist and squeezing. “It’s more than okay.” He whispered. You groaned and leaned up, kissing him again as you shoved his pants off. You pulled away, slowly kneeling before him. You palmed him through his underwear, your mouth watering at how hard he grew. The length and girth you could feel beneath you had you pulling down the fabric. 

You didn’t hide your surprise as his length sprung free. Gods… could you ever take all of him in your mouth? Certainly not. But you would do your best to please him. Another challenge you were willing to take on. Literally. 

“Like what you see, sweetheart?” He asked, his hands tangling in your hair, causing more strands to fall free from your braids. 

“You’re huge, Az.” You whispered, slowly lifting your hand to squeeze his shaft. Your fingers weren’t even touching. You felt your core heat at the thought of him inside of you, clenching around nothing. 

“Fuck, (Y/N),” he growled, tugging at your hair when you slowly wrapped your mouth around his tip, easing your way down. You kept your hand on his base, squeezing and twisting slightly to compensate for what you couldn’t fit in his mouth. Your other hand reached and rubbed on his balls, slightly gagging when he bucked his hips. “That’s it, sweetheart. Gods you look so good right now.” He said, gently guiding your head further into his cock. 

You whimpered at the praise, the vibration sending his cock further down your throat as he bucked again. You hummed again, slightly grazing your teeth against him as you squeezed harder. You could tell that he liked it by the way he twitched in your mouth, his hands gripping your hair. 

Just a few more pumps and he was spilling into your mouth. You slowly pulled away, swallowing everything he gave you. You stood up, your legs a little weak from the thought of him. You watched as he caught his breath, and then pulled you close to him before his mouth was on yours. 

It didn’t take long for him to turn you around, hoisting you up on the counter. He returned the favor, bringing you to your climax twice with nothing but his tongue and fingers. 

If this was to be your life, you would gladly live it out with him. Here, in Windhaven. Or in the House. Or in the middle of the Illyrian mountains if that’s what he wanted.

You had a long way to go on your own healing, but being with him… this is how you wanted to spend your life. It still just felt so right. Like the Mother wanted it to be this way.

Azriel cleaned both of you up, steadying you as he set you down on the floor. You leaned up, placing a sweet kiss on his lips. “Will you stay tonight?” You asked, suddenly worried that he only came for some sort of release. While it was flattering, you didn’t want him to just leave. You wanted to spend the whole night talking with him, in his arms by the fire. You felt so safe and protected with him, even if you knew you were capable of protecting yourself. There was something about him that made you okay with him defending you if he had to. And you knew, deep down, if you needed to protect him, you would stop at nothing for it. 

“Before you came in, I was cooking dinner.” He said and kissed your temple before turning around. “If you want to wash up, you can. I started a bath. Hopefully it’s still warm.” He said, a side smile coming to his lips as you pressed a kiss to his cheek. 

“I’ll be down soon.” You said, taking a sip from your water canteen before you bounded up the stairs. You didn’t particularly want to wash his scent from you, but you had been sweating all day. And even more from your escapade a few minutes ago. So, you dipped in the bath, washing yourself with the lilac scented bar on the shelf. 

When you finished, you slipped on a pair of loose fitting pants and a large sweater from one of the drawers. From the faint scent of it, you figured it was one of the boys. Maybe Cassian, if you detected it correctly. 

You made your way down the stairs, smiling as the dining table was set and the meal finished. “Did you learn to cook from Nuala and Cerridwen?” You asked, sitting down across from him. As much as you wanted to sit on his lap, you had to have some semblance of control. 

“Hmm.. I did used to live on my own, you know. One learns how to make food to survive.” He joked. 

You laughed quietly, grabbing a fork to dig into the food. It smelled delicious and you were starving. Not to mention the food at the Windhaven mess hall never really satiated any need other than basic hunger. Lots of protein and carbs before and after a long day of training. Maybe you’d have to join the Inner Circle’s family dinner at the end of the week next week just to get tasteful food again. 

“Don’t you normally have dinner with Rhys and them tonight?” You asked. 

“Yes, but I figured you could use some company. Especially since Cassian hasn’t been here to train you.” He said, resisting the urge to reach across the table and take your hand in his. While you both clearly liked each other, he didn’t want to overstep a boundary. He wasn’t sure what you two would be classified as right now. But he knew that if he saw you with another male… you were wearing Cassian’s sweater. His hand clenched to a fist.

“Az?” You asked after swallowing another bite of the roast. You noticed his change in demeanor. He went from light and happy to almost angry. “Is everything okay?” You asked, tilting your head as your shadows whispered in your ear, “He’s upset.” You almost rolled your eyes. You could see that. You waved them away, looking at his fist clenched on the table. You reached over, setting your hand on top of his. “Azriel…”

He looked down to your hands, slowly relaxing. His fist unclenched, and interlocked his fingers with yours. This is how it should be. You with him… and him with you. It felt so right.

A/N: Her and Az are getting closer!

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[askinkiskarma]

𝕄𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕚𝕟 𝕄𝕖 | ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕀𝕀: ℍ𝕚𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕆𝕦𝕣 𝕊𝕚𝕟𝕤 𝔽𝕣𝕠𝕞 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝔻𝕒𝕪𝕝𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥

Pairing: Neteyam x (f)Omaticaya!Reader

synopsis: you decide to make Neteyam pay for all the hurt he's caused you, but what will happen when your own plan comes back to bite you in the ass?

warnings: 18+ minors DNI, aged-up! Neteyam/Reader, enemies-to-lovers, strong language, mentions of violence, blood, neteyam and reader being horrible to each other lol

wc: 5k words

a/n: i'm so flabbergasted by the incredible response to my first enemies-to-lovers fic, you don't even know! thank you so much, it means so much to see you besties enjoying it and being excited about it. I will reiterate once more than this is a trope suuper outside of my comfort zone, so i hope you enjoy me wracking my brain to figure out the plot as i go along hahahah. enjoy, and as always, thank you for every like, reblog, reply, it means the world x (thank you very much also to @cinetrix for her amazing Neteyam art ily bestie x)

na'vi compendium: syä - bitter, yawne - beloved, tanhì - bioluminescent freckle, 'itan - son, 'ite - daughter, Tsakarem - Tsa'hik in training, tsamsiyu - warrior, muntxate - mate, 'eylan - friend

: ̗̀➛ previous chapter (x) : ̗̀➛ series masterlist (x) : ̗̀➛ series playlist (x)

Tryna wash away all the blood I've spilt, this lust is a burden that we both share

Two sinners can't atone from a lone prayer, souls tied, intertwined by our pride and guilt

Oh, I love it and I hate it at the same time, you and I drink the poison from the same vine

Oh, I love it and I hate it at the same time, hidin' all of our sins from the daylight

Just like most Na’vi, you’ve always felt comfortable at night. It always felt to you like the best time to be alive, is when the plants came to life alongside you, in iridescent hues and kaleidoscopes of vibrant colours. You’ve always liked how the village quieted, much like your mind, and how you were able to almost disappear in the dead of the forest, your body perfectly camouflaged in the trees and shrubbery surrounding you, glowing lights reflecting on your lustrous skin. It was heaven on Pandora, and it was yours to take, yours to enjoy, yours to experience. 

It didn’t feel like that right now, as you were stalking towards the village with a hand around your neck, tears falling down your face, a forlorn disposition plaguing your mind, fear protruding uninvited through the stalks of your thoughts. You kept glancing behind you, trying to see if Neteyam was following you, and felt mildly soothed when the village came abruptly into focus. You let out a breath of relief that you felt has been lodged in your throat for too long and started running towards your tent, exalted when you reached it and pushed the flap closed, almost considering glueing it shut with the sap from the tree Na’vi use in building furnishings for the village and their homes. You couldn’t stop the scream that escaped you as a voice you didn’t expect to hear in a home you thought was deserted spoke up, filling the much needed silence. 

“Is everything alright, Tanhí? Why are you so jumpy?” O'ì'en’s calming tone did very little to soothe you, but you knew you needed to settle your mind, so as to not raise suspicion. Any hint of what transpired between you and Neteyam would lead to complications you didn’t want to have to deal with, not when you had it all under control. There was no need to bring anyone into a war that only concerned two people, that would lead to destruction and ache you didn’t want anybody you cared about to have to experience. You had it all under control.

The reason for your unsightly fight with Neteyam brought back the conversation between yourself and Mo’at, that you tried your best to push away from your mind, that now came back in full swing as you finally took him in, as you knew you would have to tell him, and deal with the consequences of Eywa's vision and your decision to not talk the Tsa'hik out of it as a way to get revenge on the man who hurt you deeper and deeper with each day that passed. You and O'ì'en never made your relationship official, and never really even talked about it seriously, but there was no need - it was obvious enough. It was quite clear to most people that although undefined right now, your future was shaping up before your eyes, and its shape looked a lot like mating before Eywa, it looked a lot like kids and laughter and happiness and all the good things you thought you wanted, that you wanted to want every day of your life. You didn’t know whether you were convinced, deep down, but either way, you were always willing to try. Now, it seemed you wouldn't even get the chance.

“Everything’s fine, yawne. Just didn’t expect to see you here.” You thanked Eywa silently for the darkness in your home that hid your new-found bruises and closed the distance between you two, smiling as genuinely as you could bring yourself to, and reaching out to stroke his cheeks, the smile didn’t feel as forced when he leaned into your touch, closing his eyes and almost purring in comfortable contentment. 

“I just came to check on you after the mission. You were… impressive. As you always are. It means so much, watching you out there, seeing what you’re capable of, how incredible you are, knowing the future moth-“ his eyes widened as his words registered in his mind and he stopped, and your expression couldn’t have been far removed from his in this moment, that felt all of a sudden thick with anticipation and nerves, with tension and fear. You didn’t know which emotions came from you. 

“Ma O'ì'en…I…” 

Both your heads snapped in the direction of the entrance, that was pushed open aggressively by a tall, muscular figure that you would recognise in every dream and every nightmare, in every waking moment, that you wished you didn’t. Neteyam stilled in his tracks as he noticed the scene in front of him, intimate and personal and clearly not for his eyes to see, and you felt a growl blossom in your throat that you had to swallow, if not for anything, for your still unflinching desire to keep this whole ordeal a secret for as long as you could. 

“I’m interrupting.” 

“Yes, yo-“

“No, Neteyam, future Olo’eyktan. Is there anything wrong?” 

“I need to talk to her. About the… mission.”

“I shall leave you to it, then. Please give your family my regards.”

“Thank you, O'ì'en. I appreciate it.” 

“No, yawne, you don’t have to leave. I can talk to Neteyam tomorrow. It’s late, anyhow.”

“Tanhi, we’ll… resume our conversation tomorrow, alright?” He gets close to you and his lips find your forehead for just a second, before he takes his leave, and you sigh, dread filling you at the thought of being in such proximity with the man that took so much space in your mind, the man that hurt you beyond words, that you would never be able to forgive. 

“How touching.”  his voice is filled with contempt and malice, and it hurts, still to this day, this tone you knew so familiarly, that you never managed to get used to, like a shadow following you in the night you would never be able to escape.

“Get the fuck out of my tent, Neteyam.” 

“He seems to have taken the news of our impending doom of a mateship very well. I’m impressed.” 

“Leave, Neteyam.” 

“You would think he would leave out of here kicking and screaming, that he would punch me and challenge me to First Blood for the chance to keep you… maybe you’re not as big a catch as I thought.” 

His steps were quiet, but determined, as he traversed the length of the tent and got close to you, until he took up your entire field of view and you hissed aggressively, your tail twirling so much it was almost hurting, as did your ears, pushed back until they were flat, and you removed your knife, resting in a sheath on your chest and held it a couple of millimetres from his neck. 

“I said… leave.” 

“Oh.. yawne, I doubt you’re going to kill me, but you’re more than welcome to try.” 

He had no time to say anything else as the knife made contact with his smooth skin, and in one fell swoop, a thin stripe of blood emerged from his chest, and started dripping down his body. You looked at it, at the clean, bright red liquid spilling, then raised your gaze to his face, that wasn’t shocked or scared, or even angry, but alive with a glimmer of something you couldn’t quite place in his eyes and a lazy smirk on his face. He shrugged.

“Guess I deserved that.” 

“So… why wasn’t your little boyfriend upset about our arrangement? Cause the way I see it, this means either you just conveniently left it out of the conversation, or it’s because you are actually planning on talking yourself out of it to my parents.”

Your heart was booming in your chest as his eyes bore into yours and the intensity in them scared you, but not because of any elicited fear, but of how your body reacted to it and how you didn’t know what those feelings plaguing you were, or how to make them stop. 

“Leave.”

“Now why would you not tell him about it? Are you scared? Scared he’ll find out you’ll finally get to be with a real man for once?” 

You chuckled. 

“Is that supposed to be you? That is funny, Neteyam, congratulations! I will let Lo’ak know that you managed to actually make a good joke for once in your life. He’ll be floored.” His expression darkened momentarily, but he regained his composure as quickly as he lost it. 

“If that’s not it, then, that means you will talk to my parents. I knew you couldn’t be dumb enough to accept this stupid little forced deal.” You wanted nothing more than to wipe that stupid little smirk off his face, and fortunately for you, you knew just the way to do it.

 

“Well, why, Neteyam, as much as the thought of being mated to you horrifies me beyond my wildest nightmares, it’s nothing compared to the joy I get thinking of how miserable you’re going to be if I don’t talk to your parents and have to watch the choice slip past your grasp, not that it was there to begin with, or the joy of - ah, there it is - the joy fading from your eyes as you realise you will have to tell your stupid little girlfriend that you and her, will never, ever happen, and she will never be Tsa’hik, and watch as you realise that everything I foretold is, in fact, true.”

It was your turn to smirk, widely and cruelly, as his smile faded a little more with every word you spoke, until it was completely removed and replaced with a snarl, deep scowl and menacing canines on full display for you, but you were no longer scared. No, pure adrenaline was rushing through your veins, heightened by the desire to hurt him, to see him crumble in front of you, to see him suffer a sliver of all the hurt he’s caused you over the years. 

“Listen me very carefully, Neteyam. For one reason or another, you have made it your life purpose to make mine miserable, and only mine. I don’t want this to happen, I really don’t. I would rather be with any other man on this planet before I even considered looking in your direction, but I will make you pay for all the hurt you’ve caused me. And I have no problem burning in the pits of what Jake calls Hell, if I get to watch you burn with me.” You smiled a sweet smile, running your finger over the cut that was still leaking blood, trailing it down his abdomen, over his abs, and you ignored once more how the feel of his muscular body made shivers emanate from your fingertip, propagating throughout your whole being. You also ignored how his body shuddered under your touch. “So you and me, we’re stuck together, and there’s nothing you can do about it. And I will enjoy every moment of my life in which I get to see your life fall apart before you and know that I made it happen. So this little charming act you’re pulling, it’s all in vain. It’s all in vain. Now get out.” 

You didn’t wait for him to answer you, but turned around and started preparing for bed. You removed the silk top covering your chest, and heard a sharp inhale as his eyes took in the scene, and your breath ceased, wondering if he was going to leave, like you told him to, wondering if you wanted him to. Eventually, the cold sting of the wind blowing hit your back, as he opened the flap to your tent and exited it, and all at once, it all hit you and you felt more alone, more forlorn than you ever have, and less sure than ever about your crazy, all-consuming schemes. 

You woke up with doubt filling your mind and the headache to match, and you wondered if you did in fact have to leave the comfort and safety of your tent for the life that you knew would be waiting to tear you slowly at the seams as soon as you left it. Dreams plagued your subconscious last night, floating in the ether, waiting to be grabbed and inspected by an uncertain mind, and in your state, they were, and turned over onto each one of their pretty facets, bringing back memories you struggled to forget, that hurt you in their innocence and beauty, in their absence, in their contrast to your life right now and the relationship you still mourned to this day on odd occasions, on harder days, like yesterday, and like today.

In those dreams, Neteyam’s eyes gleamed with excitement and love, instead of annoyance and hatred. In those dreams, his hands were warm as his fingers intertwined with yours on the practice grounds, instead of bruising and calloused as they snuffed the breath out of your throat. In dreams, his smile brightened your whole world and made the pain of training and the struggle of excellence not only bearable, but barely-felt. You couldn’t even remember the last time Neteyam smiled your way, a true smile, a gummy smile, a playful smile he still flashed most people, he still flashed his family, and friends, and clan, all of which you used to be, none of which you still are to him.

You wondered sometimes, very rarely, if he ever thinks about those times, too. If in his undivided quest to hurt you and one-up you, in his desire to see you fail and the joy he seems to derive from it, you wondered, did he ever think about those times, too? Does he ever remember you, innocent and young, full of spark and happiness, looking up at him like he was a planet and you were just his moon, trapped in his gravitational pull, circling his orbit, offering him solace and safety from the rest of the universe, from all the meteors that always tried to take too much out of him, too quickly. He used to love you, and want to protect you, he was there when your parents died, he was there to help you mourn and heal. Does he remember what you used to mean to him?

As you made your way to the Sullys' tent, you were greeted by shouting and a seemingly unending back-and-forth, but the voices involved in it weren't the ones you expected - not when they weren't Lo'ak and Kiri's, who you found bickering almost on the daily, who you were used to having to mediate peace treaties for, but instead, Neteyam and Jake's, both angry and raising above the peaceful chatter of the village that was just coming to life in light of a new day.

"- and this is just the way it is, Neteyam. This isn't like you! You, more than all the rest of your siblings combined, have always been able to see the bigger picture, to understand that sacrifices sometimes are necessary for the greater good. You have always been the one who was able to have perspective. What the hell happened, son?"

"What happened is you're trying to get me to mate with someone who I hate, who I will never be able to accept. I had a chosen mate! I had a life, and a plan, and now it's all over. Now you're telling me I have to give her every part of me, the most intimate parts of me, my children, my future. Her!"

You cringed at the way he said your name - like a blasphemy, like a curse. Spitting it like it was blood and bile mixing together on his tongue, coating his mouth, like the vile word hurt sitting in his throat. and he desperately needed to get it out before it could do any more damage.

"This isn't my decision, son. And it's not yours, either. It's Eywa's. You know she's never wrong, you know there's a reason for this. She seems to see it, too, why can't you at least try?"

There was silence in the tent and you felt guilty for prying, your body crouched next to the tent and your ear against its woven fabric, but not guilty enough to stop. Jake sighed loudly. You heard Neytiri's calmer, more even tone take over.

"Ma 'itan... you used to love this girl. She used to be your best friend, you used to do everything together. I know things have changed between you, but deep down, you're both the same two people you used to be. You both can find each other again, you just have to try. Why won't you try?"

Neteyam huffed and the sudden commotion made you jolt back, hiding in the corner as he pushed passed the closed flap, muttering mostly to himself as he left the tent, and his family, behind.

"You know damn well why."

You let out a breath you've been holding for the entirety of the conversation, as you came out of hiding and entered the tent, trying your best not to look like you overheard the entirety of that conversation that although about you, clearly was not intended for your ears to hear. Even if you hadn't heard the whole thing, it would still be obvious you were on their minds and on their lips as their eyes scrambled in shame and embarrassment, the room drowned in awkwardness and heaviness none of you could quite shake, none of you could quite swim in gracefully. Neytiri spoke first, her motherly instincts kicking in as she noticed your pained expression, that as hard as you tried, you couldn't hide from the people you loved so much, from the people that knew you so well.

"Ma 'ite, come, sit. We saved you food." she took you gently by the shoulders and pushed you to the middle of the room, and then down until you sat next to Lo'ak, who gave you a pitying look and a half-smile, an underwhelming attempt at telling you he's heard the news, and he feels sorry for you. Lo'ak more than most people knew how it felt to be stuck to Neteyam, how it felt to know that, no matter what happened or where life took him, he'd always live in his big brother's shadow, unable to escape his majestic, adept, irritating grasp. It seems you were now in a similar boat, bound to be known as no more than Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk'itan's mate, and eventually, the Tsa'hik of the Omaticaya. It was a good title, a worthy title, a mighty title - just not one for you, and Lo'ak knew this all too well.

"I didn't get to see you after the mission, kid. I wanted to tell you you did a phenomenal job. Neytiri and I are very proud of you, you are genuinely better and better every day."

You felt annoyance build in you at his comments, but pushed it down. They were being nice, and it wasn't their fault. None of this was their fault. It wasn't anybody's fault. It was Eywa's will. And Eywa knew best. And still, still, you couldn't help feel it, the frustration that gnawed at you at this situation, at the way none of it would matter soon in their eyes, how it would all be forsaken and forgotten, your skill, your prowess, everything you worked for for 19 years.

So, say something. Tell them you don't want to do it. That you're meant to be more, was born to be more than just his mate. Say something.

Nothing came out as you chewed your food apathetically, trying to focus instead of little Tuk who came to sit next to you, and you pulled her closer, sharing your food silently. She smiled up at you, and you couldn't help reach down and peck her on her forehead. It's been a while since you went out, just you girls, and you felt guilty for abandoning Kiri and Tuk for Lo'ak's training sessions and your own, and made a mental note to organise a foraging trip soon.

"Kid, you are one of the best warriors I have ever seen in my 19 years of being Olo'eyktan. In fact, you are one of the best I've ever seen, even back on Earth. You should be very proud of yourself and what you've achieved. I know there's so much still there for the taking, whenever you're ready."

"There's nothing left for me to take, Jake! Not anymore. Don't you see that? You all stand here, talking about how great I am, what a great warrior I am, but how the fuck does it matter anymore, huh? When I'll have to give it all up to become Tsakarem, to exist here, in the village, for the rest of my life instead of out there, where I actually belong, to exist to interpret Eywa's will, which I will never be able to do, because I will never be able to understand why she would ever think I could ever be this, all of this for the people, how she could think it's fair I have to give up all of me to belong to someone else who hates me, who'll get to shine in my stead, and fight in my stead, and fulfil the destiny I was bound by, that belonged to me just as much as him? I trained my whole life, side by side with Neteyam, to be just as good as him, to be just as good a tsamsiyu as he is, and now it's all in vain. So please, spare me the compliments, since they are just as wasted on me as my talent on the battlefield is."

You were no longer hungry, it seemed, and with one last kiss to Tuk, you got out of the tent, hearing a faint "Well, that could have gone better, with both of them." coming from Jake, accompanied by a deep sigh that mirrored yours. You heard footsteps follow you, but couldn't find it in you to stop, to care, not when more and more, it seemed like the ground was turning into quicksand beneath your feet, pulling you under with each moment you considered all you were giving up to get revenge on a man who you meant nothing to, who probably didn't care regardless, who was going to hurt you in this forced relationship more than you could ever hurt him. Maybe it wasn't worth it. Maybe your peace of mind, and your ability to reach your full potential was more important than the desperate, idiotic need to get Neteyam to suffer for the 7 years of indiscretions that clawed at your heart every day of your life.

"Syä, come on, don't make me chase after you."

You ignored Lo'ak, and continued walking until you hit the tree you both liked to go to think and vent, to talk and complain about anything and everything - his subjects always revolved around his father and his sisters, yours revolved around your lack of parents and the pressure that you felt to be great, the responsibility you shouldered, and you both shared one subject in particular, that occupied most of your time spent here. He climbed after you and you both settled on the branch you usually laid on.

"I'm sorry, syä."

"What about?"

"Everything. This whole thing. You don't deserve this."

You scoffed.

"I deserve what I got. That's why I got it. The Great Mother doesn't choose sides, and she's never cruel or unjust. So I must deserve this."

There was silence weighing heavily on the air around you and in both your minds. Lo'ak didn't have the most developed emotional maturity, so you knew better than to expect more. You appreciated the little he did say, because it did matter - it always will. You and Neteyam might be as far apart as two galaxies on opposing sides of the universe, but you and Lo'ak were adjacent stars in the night sky, there to shine together. You might not have a family, not truly, but he would always be your baby brother, and you would always be his big, bitter, best sister.

"I have to tell you, though... I feel bad for you and all, but it's so good to know I won't have to call that little scared, mindless yarik of a girl sister. She truly is the most dull, vapid, odious person I've ever met, and even with Neteyam's bad track record in girls, this one still shocks me to this day. Imagine her being Tsa'hik, ew."

You laughed a little. She really was bad. Not what you would have ever imagined Neteyam's type to be like, but more and more it seemed Neteyam's type was anyone who had absolutely no resemblance... to you. Like consciously or subconsciously, he just needed to make sure the person he was kissing, or touching, or fucking, had nothing of you that could hinder the experience for him. The thought hurt and tilted to balance back in the favour of your original malevolent, callous, rotten plan.

"Have you told O'ì'en yet? Can't imagine he'll be very pleased. That guy's whipped for you, for real. I've never seen someone literally have those heart eyes that you see in those old cartoons my dad used to show us when we were kids."

You sighed another bottomless sigh as you thought about yet another person who had to suffer as a result of this scheme. Your boyfriend for all intents and purposes, the man you once thought you might spend the rest of your life with. A man who was good and pure, who treated you well, who put you first. You realised with a small chuckle that, much like Neteyam, you, too, subconsciously found the opposite of him and held on for dear life, only to now have to let him go.

"Not yet."

"You should, syä. He deserves to know."

"Yeah. He does."

Lo'ak's words rang in your ears as you were walking through the village in search for the one person you needed to see, and you knew where he would be, where he always was when he had spare time, dutiful as always, responsible as he would always be. You smiled a half-smile as you saw him with a gun in hand, peering through the visor, full focus as he was aiming for one of the targets nailed to a tree 500 metres away.

"You're aiming too low." his eyes snapped to you, and the smile he gave you, so genuine and wide and comforting hurt you, it all hurt your heart that was struggling to maintain itself whole in the face of everything that it had to endure in time, and more so recently.

You joined him, motioning for him to resume what he was doing, and you placed a hand on the underside of the sniper he was holding, inching it upwards.

"You have to adjust for the distance and the gravity pulling the bullet down as it flies towards the target. Like with an arrow."

"An arrow I get. This, I don't think I ever will."

"You will, O'ì'en. I know you will." I just won't be the one to teach you anymore.

"I was hoping you'd come." He dropped the weapon on the ground, finding better luck in counting the stars on your face instead, and with a caress of your lips, you shuddered under his touch, leaning into it, exhaling softly as his own lips found yours in a soft, intimate exchange. "I missed you, and I wanted to tell you something, I needed to tell you what's been on my mind from the moment you first appeared in front of me during my first lesson."

Your heart was pounding in your chest and in your temples, the words that you knew were coming scaring you, their weight, their implication dizzying you, turning you into a breathy, untethered mess as you spoke words with barely enough strength to be heard.

"O'ì'en, I -..."

"Please, let me get this out. I love you, tìyawn. I love you, and everything about you. I love your beauty, and your strength. I love how incredible you are, and how skilled. I love how despite your tough exterior, you have a gentle heart. And you are kind, and good, and I just know you'd be the best mother one day. I just hope it's to our kids. I want you to be mine, to mate before Eywa, to finally have the lo-"

His words and the erratic beating of your heart in your ears, the tears glossing over your eyes, dulled your senses to the man who was approaching you, and you suppressed a hiss at the interruption, at the one who instigated it, at the one who always seemed to conveniently find a way to do so. Neteyam walked until he was so close to you his hips were brushing against your waist, that, much to your unadulterated shock and disbelief, he circles with his arm, holding on to you tightly as he spoke.

"I have been looking everywhere for you, ma muntxate. Father called an emergency meeting and he needs you there immediately. He asked me to go find my love, so typical of him, don't you think?" His smile was sweet and innocent, but you knew better, knew that he just ruined the last pure thing in your life, the one thing you tried to hard to protect, the one thing you were just reconsidering this whole ordeal for, once more. O'ì'en...

"What did you say?"

"Oh, ma ‘eylan, haven't you heard? Her and I are to be mated soon. Isn't that just great?"

The sound of both your and O'ì'en's hearts shattering all around you and the swift melody of Neteyam winning yet another battle is the last thing you heard before the man you cared for turned around and left, taking the future and the hopes he held safely within his soul, leaving you with more guilt and shame than you would ever know what to do with.

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