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vivid-ink · 1 year

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"The Love Shack" Part I - The Proposition

Relationship: Neteyam(23) x fem!Omatikaya reader(21) x Lo'ak(22)

Story Summary: You’d heard the whispered speculations and stifled giggles during the daytimes. You’d seen the furtive glances that the other women cast at Neteyam and Lo’ak through coquettish eyes, cheeks stained a blushing mauve as they exchanged coy smiles with the two brothers. And during the nights? Hell, you’d heard the moans and wanton cries for yourself… You were definitely curious, but did you have it in you to go through with their proposition?...

Warnings: Adult content 18+ MDNI Word count: 6.1k Content: Mentions of group sex, MMF threesome, smut, sex toy play, squirting

Author's Note: OMG I had to split this into two parts! It was getting too long to do as a oneshot. 😳 But here is the first part and build-up to the juicy as hell NeteyamxReaderxLo'ak threesome. Part II will be uploaded tomorrow! Enjoy Part I! Note: I personally don't use the term 'y/n' so in this story, the reader's name is Neyomi. The name is not used often, I just don't like the 'y/n' term.

You’d heard the whispered speculations and stifled giggles during the daytimes. You’d seen the furtive glances that the other women cast at Neteyam and Lo’ak through coquettish eyes, cheeks stained a blushing mauve as they exchanged coy smiles with the two brothers.

And during the nights? Hell, you’d heard the moans and wanton cries for yourself…

It was a mistake you’d made once, venturing out into the vast Pandoran woodlands after eclipse towards the old, abandoned outpost you knew the brothers had annexed for their use. You’d told yourself you had gotten sidetracked and lost. That you’d been so caught up in your own thoughts that you’d unintentionally veered off course on your forest stroll and found yourself in the outpost’s vicinity by accident.

You knew that wasn’t quite true. You’d been curious.

The other young women gossiped. Women from everywhere in the clan; warriors, hunters, weavers, cooks, gatherers, all sharing surreptitious murmurs about the nighttime activities that the olo’eyktan’s sons partook in with them. They whispered of the delight and the pleasure of their clandestine experiences with bothbrothers.

Lo’ak was playful and flirtatious in general, so you could easily see how he fit into the role of an unrepentant womaniser. But Neteyam? Neteyam, who you worked alongside nearly every day as his second-in-command during platoon hunts and warrior patrols… Neteyam, who was next-in-line to be olo’eyktan after his father, who commanded the respect of the clan and its council… Responsible, reserved and gallant Neteyam?

You hadn’t wanted to believe it.

So, when you’d found yourself near the old war outpost one evening, your tingling feet had carried you closer despite the admonition in your mind. Padding on silent feet towards the glow of firelight, the breathless sighs and blissful cries had echoed in the sultry air around you from within the outpost shelter. The sensual sounds had entranced you and you’d found yourself unable to tear yourself away from the area where you were hidden, something you recounted now with no small amount of shame.

And when the noises had ceased and three women had departed the outpost, closely followed by Lo’ak and Neteyam, the hitching breath that was your gasp had caught in your throat.

There was nothing illicit about what they were doing. Na’vi were passionate people; as long as there was consent and security all round, sexual freedom was embraced in their culture. You were just surprised by Neteyam’s involvement in such group liaisons. It was difficult for you to reconcile the charismatic and modest side of him that you saw in the daytimes with such lubricious nighttime activities.

After your inadvertent discovery, which had confirmed to you that the natter you’d heard of was true, you’d tried your best to forget about it. Neteyam was still the same man he was; charming, respectful and a great platoon leader. Nothing about how he chose to spend his nights should’ve affected the way you perceived him, and yet you couldn’t look at him the same way.

Every morning, Neteyam would discuss patrol plans or hunting strategy with you just as he always did, but you struggled to meet his eyes for longer than a moment now. He would joke with you and rib you, but your laughs were awkward and less carefree than before.

You were… disappointed? Not disappointed in him per se, just disappointed in general. Or perhaps envious was the correct word… Envious of the other women for having him… But the proud part of you refused to entertain the thought. You weren’t going to be jealous; it was beneath you. After all, Neteyam was your direct report and you were a firm believer that not screwing the crew kept things running smoothly.

He hadn’t commented on the change in your behaviour around him, but you knew he’d picked up on it. You would catch him from time to time watching you through his golden eyes, and though his expression was cool, there was enquiry swirling about in their depths, a certain scrutiny in them as if he was attempting to figure you out.

Things got even more uncomfortable when it became increasingly apparent with time that nearly all the other women appeared to have engaged in a dalliance with the brothers at one point or another.

It made you feel like you were on the outside of some big secret that everyone else was in on except you. But you dug your heels in nonetheless. You weren’t going to participate in these lustful group affairs where you would just be another body writhing amongst the others. You’d had your share of intimacy with men in the past and you weren’t a saint, but there was just something about sensual play in a group that made you uneasy.

So, when your best friend, Tula, came sauntering up to you in the pa’li (direhorse) pen that morning after receiving a lascivious grin from Lo’ak who was going past, you were immediately suspicious.

Narrowing accusatory eyes at your friend, who appeared almost giddy with contentment, you asked, “What’s all that about?”

“Oh, you know,” Tula trilled, aiming for a nonchalant tone and failing miserably when she giggled and waved at another young woman, Neneka, who winked at her craftily, “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“Tula.” Her name was ground out from between your clenched teeth as you surveyed her calculatingly. You’d known Tula since you were both young children and you knew her inside-out. She was more like a sister really. Something was up and you knew it.

Thankfully, Tula was not much of a liar and the two of you never kept secrets from each other. She caved under the heat of your assessing gaze, “Neneka convinced me to go last night, alright?”

A shocked gasp left you and you ushered her to the side of the pen, away from the other warriors, “What? What happened to you and I sticking all this nonsense out together, huh?”

“Shh! It wasn’t even that bad. It was just some fun in a small group. Everyone had a good time.” Tula hissed in return, her ears flicking fretfully while she tried to placate you.

“Like a group orgy?! How many of you were there?”

Rolling her eyes with a long-suffering sigh, Tula grasped at your forearms to stop you flailing them about, “No, it wasn’t an orgy, it was simply some playful touching and massage. It was just Neneka, myself and Miria who went.”

“Let’s see, five people massaging private body parts together?” You spluttered incredulously, and when Tula didn’t refute your statement you took it as agreement and exclaimed in a cross whisper, “That’s an orgy!”

“Well it was worth it! Honestly, I understand what all the other women have been saying now. It was amazing. They’ve got these things, I don’t know what they’re called, these tawtute (human) things that hum against you-”

You could feel your eyes growing larger and larger as you listened to Tula, the sting of betrayal sharp in your chest. You and Tula had made a pact that neither of you would participate in these clandestine activities. You had successfully stuck it out together over the last few moons, despite all the others falling victim one by one to whatever enchantment the Sully brothers seemed to have cast over them.

Eywa, you wondered if their father, the olo’eyktan, even knew what mischief his sons got up to in the darker hours of eclipse…

“Oh, don’t look so horrified, Neyomi. It’s all harmless fun.” Tula chastised sharply, tossing one side of her braids over her shoulder and folding her arms across her chest.

“You didn’t even tell me that you were going.”

Tula’s hairless brows rose, her forehead crinkling in confusion, “You wouldn’t have wanted to go and I knew you’d react like this if I told you!”

Sniffing sullenly, your face twisted into an unimpressed moue, “So, did you sleep with both of them?”

Tula scoffed and adjusted her bow where it was slung around her torso. She pushed past you and began making her way back to her pa’li, “No, I didn’t. Miria might have chosen to explore things further with Lo’ak, but I was content to just experience those tawtute things.”

“Did Neneka sleep with Neteyam?”

Tula glanced back at you as you trailed after her and her expression gentled. Clearly she hadn’t missed the slight edge in your voice, “There was touching between them, but nothing beyond that. I don’t even think they kissed. It’s not always about sex, you know. Sometimes it’s just a comfort to find and bring pleasure to someone else without going all the way.”

“Right.” Something light unfurled in your chest at her words; what was it? Relief?

Saddling up her mount, Tula sighed as she watched you fiddle distractedly with the buckles and straps of your pa’li’s saddle. She reached out to place a gentle hand on your elbow, “If it makes you feel better, I hear Neteyam really only likes to watch. He isn’t quite as open with his affections as his brother is.”

Feigning casualness, you turned and shrugged at her, “What anyone else chooses to do with their body is not any of my business. I just feel the whole ruse is a bit much and not my thing.”

It was Tula’s turn to narrow her eyes shrewdly at you, “Yes, but I know your feelings for Neteyam make it all the harder to stomach.”

“I don’t have feelings for him.” You replied with a conscious effort to keep your tone even, “I just find him very attractive.”

Vaguely, you wondered to yourself if your former statement was completely truthful. The latter statement certainly was.

Neteyam was nothing short of beautiful in your eyes; he had a handsome face, was tall, broad and well-muscled. To be fair, Lo’ak was too, but there was just something about Neteyam that appealed to you a little more over his younger brother. As for not having feelings for him, you’d sounded fairly convincing, but the words had tasted like a lie on your tongue.

The snort that Tula emitted was far from ladylike, “You keep telling yourself that. I don’t know why you’re being so stubborn. You think he’s attractive, so wouldn’t it be fun if you came along and got to explore him in a more sensual light? He’s only your boss during work time.”

Rubbing down your pa’li’s legs in preparation for the long day ahead, you felt heat bloom in your cheeks and neck at the thought. You knew you were in major denial. The feminine side of you very much wanted to get to know Neteyam in that way, just not in front all the others, where you would have to share…

“No.” You countered, patting your mount’s muscular neck affectionately, “I’m not going to just show up and invite myself along.”

“But that’s what everyone does! You go along if you want to and bring anyone else who’s keen. You don’t need a personal invitation or anything. It’s free and easy. Come on, I know you’re a little bit curious.”

You were about to hiss a caustic retort at Tula about not wanting to be just another piece of meat in a line of women when a deep voice spoke from behind you.

“Who wants a personal invitation?” Shit. Lo’ak.

You startled and froze, feeling something clench uncomfortably in your belly at the scare.Your panicked response flew from your lips at the same time as Tula’s answer.

“No one!”

“Neyomi does.”

The incensed expression you shot Tula would have speared a yerik (hexapede) dead in an instant, but after a lifetime of knowing you, she was immune to your dagger-sharp glares and simply blew a raspberry in your face.

Lo’ak gave a dark chuckle, “Is that so?”

Sucking a slow and measured breath through your nose, you steeled yourself to face the younger Sully brother. Swivelling on your heels, your gaze locked with Lo’ak’s orbs of amber which glinted in the daylight, bright with mischief. He grinned, the pointed tips of his canines peeking out from behind his upper lip in a roguish smile.

“Nope, Tula’s lying. I’m not interested.” You stated matter-of-factly.

Tula crowed with laughter beside you, “No I’m not! Why would I lie? I’m trying to help you.”

“If it’s a personal invitation you want, you can consider it done.” Lo’ak added, “I think you might be the only girl left who hasn’t come by to take a look at least. You’re more than welcome to come and play.” He finished his sentence with a suggestive wink, which earned him an emphatic gag and eyeroll from you.

Despite your exaggerated show of repulsion, the good-humoured laugh that Lo’ak gave in response caused a flurry of involuntary flutters in your belly. Most of his dread-locked braids were tied back behind his head, but the few loose beaded strands bobbed and swayed as he laughed and you reluctantly admitted to yourself that he was just as striking as his older brother was.

Lo’ak’s jaw was more angular than Neteyam’s, sharper in the chin where Neteyam’s was squarer. His eyes were slightly more wide-set within a strong browbone. Neteyam also wore his hair differently in his usual signature loose braids, but aside from these differences, both brothers looked remarkably alike. Both as tall as the other and equally strapping. Definitely blood brothers; two incredibly good-looking blood brothers…

“For the last time, no.” You hissed with a scowl, the points of your ears pinning flat against your head, “I’m not going to be a part of some group orgy. It’s not my thing. I don’t like to share.”

Lo’ak’s brows raised at your last comment and he smirked, committing your remark to memory. You were too busy to notice the scheming expression on his face as you aimed several swats at Tula, who was now whining at you to loosen up and ‘let go and live’.

“It’s alright ladies, no need to get mean.” Lo’ak conciliated, watching as you snarled at a thwarted Tula who appeared very unimpressed.

A familiar hooting whistle sounded from outside the pen and it immediately caught your attention. Neteyam was rounding up the day’s patrol party for briefing prior to setting off. With a brusque farewell to Tula and a muttered promise to catch her later, you stomped off towards the rest of the hunting party where they were gathering. As second-in-command you were required up front with Neteyam and you didn’t want to keep him waiting.

Lo’ak, however, was having far too much fun with his joshing around. He caught up to you in a few long strides, walking alongside you, “I meant what I said. Your invitation remains open, if you change your mind.”

You pursed your lips at him and shook your head in vexation, “Piss off, skxawng.” There wasn’t any real heat in your voice though. He chuckled again.

You liked Lo’ak as an individual. He was amiable and had a great sense of humour. Though he could be annoying, as he was being right now, you could never stay mad at him for very long. He inevitably always found his way back into your good graces with a sharp quip or a good joke.

But just as you were about to put the morning’s conversation behind you and move on with your day, Lo’ak fired another crack at you, “Or maybe it’s the wrong brother asking.”

You should’ve scoffed at the quip and sauntered onward. Or just played it cool and laughed the statement off, but instead your feet faltered in their steps and you ground to a halt. You were anything but cool when it came to Neteyam. He was one aspect of your life where you could never feign anything other than what you really felt, especially when your emotions were strong.

The delicate points of your ears flicked self-consciously, the tuft of your tail ceasing its swaying to lie low and still by your calves. You turned wide eyes up at Lo’ak. It was the wrong reaction if you’d wanted to keep your secret and persuade Lo’ak otherwise…

A haughty smile split Lo’ak’s face from ear to ear as if he had just made the discovery of some rare species of exotic animal. He cackled before moseying onward towards the patrol party, calling nonchalantly over his shoulder, “I’ll let him know.”

“Lo’ak, no!” Rooted to the spot, you felt equal parts infuriated and equal parts stricken while you watched him disappear into the crowd of assembled warriors. Eywa help you… The last thing you needed was for Lo’ak to make things any more awkward than they already were between you and Neteyam.

Clenching your fists and pressing your lips into a tight line, you stamped your way to the front of the party to flank Neteyam in your usual spot by his side. You saw Lo’ak smiling smugly at you from the second row of warriors and your eyes narrowed to slits as you glowered back at him.

Seeing your disconcerted state, Neteyam’s forehead crinkled in question at you and he murmured, “Everything alright?”

“Yes, sir.” Your response was short and clipped.

An embarrassed blush was already colouring your neck and face after your exchange with Lo’ak, so you kept your gaze ahead of you, knowing that meeting Neteyam’s eyes would only increase the hot rush of blood to your cheeks. You could feel the familiar tingle of his calculating gaze beside you before a soft and husky chuckle left him. It was unexpected and you instinctively turned your head to look at him.

Big mistake.

Neteyam’s handsome face was peering down at you and a smirk was dancing across his lips. You felt your tummy squeeze and a burst of flutters erupted. By Eywa, why was he looking at you like that?... Great goddess, you were standing in front of the entire party and everyone was watching…

Clearing your throat loudly, you greeted the gathered warriors and called them all to attention, essentially forcing Neteyam to look away and begin his own address.

Neteyam briefed the party of the day’s plan: A patrol out to the southern-most border of Omatikaya territory. He’d already mentioned today’s patrol strategy to you the previous day, so his voice was drowned out to a hum in the background of your consciousness as your inner thoughts consumed you.

Fuck, if Lo’ak told Neteyam you were attracted to him, would it cause a conflict of interest in your professional relationship with him?... Would Neteyam be too uncomfortable to have you as his second-in-command?... You loved your work and you loved working with him. Eywa, the shame of being removed from your position would be mortifying…

The rustling scatter of the patrol party in front of you pulled you out of your thoughts and back to the present. You’d zoned out through the entirety of Neteyam’s briefing, you realised. The warriors were all making their way back to their pa’li now to get into their departure formations.

The sight of Lo’ak ambling towards you and Neteyam spurred you into motion and you strode away with a huff. You didn’t want to be caught in any more awkward exchanges today, especially in front of Neteyam.

Neteyam’s eyes trailed after your retreating form, noting the annoyed whip and lash of your tail. His gaze slid higher, appreciating the lithe length of your toned thighs and up further to the pert rounds of your bottom. He bit his lip and shook the gathering collection of unchaste thoughts from his mind.

Pulling his armguard onto his right arm and adjusting his cummerbund around his waist, Neteyam’s attention snapped to his brother when Lo’ak strolled up to him snickering. Neteyam put two and two together immediately, surmising that his brother had clearly ticked you off this morning.

“You better watch yourself, bro.” Neteyam cautioned mildly, “She’ll kick your ass, slice it up and serve it to you for dinner.”

Clicking his tongue with a cock of his head, Lo’ak agreed, “That’s why she’s your second-in-command. But hey man, she can kick my ass, and use and abuse it as much as she likes when we play in the evenings.”

That last sentence piqued Neteyam’s attention. His ears pricked upward in full focus, seeking more clarification from his brother, “What do you mean?”

“I told you getting Tula onboard was key.”

Neteyam eyed Lo’ak fixedly, “Has Neyomi agreed to come to next week’s meet-up?”

“Nope, she’s still being stubborn but she’s definitely curious. She was just asking Tula about last night.” Lo’ak informed. He gave a suggestive purse of his lips then and continued with a cheeky leer at his brother, “Although I might have discovered a few titbits that might sway her.”

***~~~***

The mossy ground was plush underfoot as Neteyam stole through the verdant underbrush on silent feet. Eclipse had settled over them and the evening atmosphere was alive with bioluminescence. A mild draught was swirling about and he lifted his chin and parted his lips, inhaling through his nose and mouth to scent the air lightly. The familiar smell of your sweet scent tantalised his nose and danced on his tongue, tasting a little like fresh fruit with a natural honeyed note to it that made his mouth water, and made rather carnal images fill his head.

Yes, he very much wanted to taste you… He wanted to taste the supple skin of your neck, to lick the tips of your fingers and kiss other more sensual parts of you…

Vaguely, Neteyam wondered to himself if you suspected at all how much his mind like to wander when you were near him during hunts and patrols. He wondered if you had withdrawn from him recently because you had noticed his subtle staring; he wondered if perhaps you had doggedly refused to come to the old outpost with the other women because you didn’t feel the same way about him.

But if what Lo’ak had tipped him off about this morning was true then the aforementioned reason was not at all the reason for your stubborn evasion. Hopefully his gentle plan to sway you would work in his favour and pique your curiosity enough to coax you into coming by.

He could see your seated form not far from where he was currently positioned behind some eyaye ferns. Your back was to him, your tail curled on the ground behind you, its tuft flicking intently back and forth while you concentrated on your task at hand. He could see a long branch protruding outward to your side where you held it in your left hand, while your right hand was making rhythmic strikes at its other end. It seemed you were crafting a new hunting spear.

Your aptitude for crafting tools and weapons was one of the many things that drew him to you. Your finished pieces were always well-made, intricate in design and beautiful to behold. You were also a proficient warrior; skilled during hunts with a good mind for strategy, and level-headed enough to hold your own in high pressure situations. He was fortunate to have you as his second-in-command. Those were some of your best character traits.

As for your physical traits, well… If Neteyam was honest, he had to admit that there wasn’t anything about your body that didn’t appeal to his male instincts. You were very appealing…

Deciding to make his presence known, Neteyam intentionally shuffled through the broad leaves of the ferns and cleared his throat lightly. He figured sneaking up on you and startling you wouldn’t endear him to you, which could be detrimental to the result of the little proposition he had to for you.

Your reaction was instant, your ears swivelling in his direction, closely followed by your upper body as you heard his approach. Your eyes widened at the sight of him, surprised, though you didn’t make any move to get up.

“Hey,” Neteyam greeted coolly as he strolled over to you, “Can I join you?”

“Ah, sure?” You replied, sounding a little uncertain, “Tula is meeting me here soon though.”

Biting his bottom lip and looking somewhat guilty, Neteyam shook his head with a sheepish smile, “Tula isn’t coming to meet you. I asked her to set this meeting up so I could catch you to talk.”

Puzzlement lined the contours of your face and you set the spear you had been carving down before you, “Why did you need Tula to do that? You could’ve asked me yourself.”

Neteyam emitted a short bark of laughter and pulled one of his hands down his face, “I would’ve if you hadn’t avoided me all day today.”

He watched you suck your bottom lip into your mouth, clearly caught out by the truth of the situation. Your attention returned to your spear and you picked the branch up again to resume your whittling. You murmured, “Ok, what’s up?”

“I should be asking you that. You’ve been more withdrawn than usual lately.” Neteyam began gently, “And then today you insisted on bringing up the rear of the patrol party instead of riding up front with me. You’ve barely even acknowledged me today.”

You shifted uncomfortably on your crossed legs, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude.”

“I didn’t think you were being rude, I just thought it out of character for you. Is everything alright?”

“Yes, nothing’s wrong.”

Neteyam wasn’t convinced. You didn’t appear to be lying and yet your response didn’t feel entirely sincere either. You still weren’t meeting his eyes.

Your behaviour had definitely changed around him in recent moons. It had started as mild awkwardness at first, but as the weeks had gone on it had become clearer to him that you were putting up walls and putting distance between the both of you. It was a perceptible contrast to your usually robust work partnership that was felt comfortable and strong in trust.

“Look, if I’ve said something or done something to upset you, you’d tell me, right?” He broached.

“Yeah, if it was reasonable and I wasn’t disrespecting your rank.”

Neteyam thought that was an odd answer. He expected a simple yes or no, along with a reason if applicable. He mused to himself, so whatever was bothering you… you obviously felt it was unreasonable to bring up with him…

“So you are upset about something. A work decision I’ve made?”

“No! It isn’t about work.” You were getting flustered now, which was something Neteyam wasn’t used to seeing on you. It was yet another hint that you were upset. You carried on, “It’s nothing. It’s a ‘me’ thing, no big deal. Everything is fine. I need to get back home.”

Half-finished spear in hand, you tucked your carving knife back into its sheath at your side and nimbly rose to your feet, making to leave.

Recalling what Lo’ak (and later Tula too) had told him, Neteyam resolved to get to the point. You clearly weren’t going to tell him, so he might as well come right out with it and ask.

Getting to his own feet, he quickly strode after you as you marched away back towards camp, “So it’s not because I haven’t issued you a personal invitation to come along to the outpost?”

Neteyam almost smacked into the back of you as you halted in your steps and whirled around to face him.

“What? No!” You almost shrieked, “Lo’ak is so full of shit! I don’t want an invitation to your guys’ love shack!”

Neteyam noted the purpling blush that was staining your cheeks and the indignance that was flashing in your wide amber eyes. You were beautiful in your bother. He couldn’t help it. He smirked, fighting the urge to laugh when his expression only seemed to aggravate you further.

“Love shack? That’s quite a good name actually. Maybe we’ll start calling it that.”

You blinked dubious eyes at him and your ears lowered a fraction. You huffed out a jaded laugh and gave a slow shake of your head, “Ugh I can’t believe you. I never expected group liaisons to be your thing. But it’s none of my business and you can do what you like. It isn’t my place to judge. It just surprised me is all.”

Neteyam took a tentative step towards you, “Why does that surprise you?”

You swallowed hard, noticing the way Neteyam had begun to close the distance between you. Part of you was regretting the way you had just run your mouth and admitted you were perturbed by his choice of nighttime activities. You should have just kept your gob shut and gone home. Now you were cornered and he was asking questions.

The mild breeze that had been blowing before had vanished and the air lay heavy and thick around you. You didn’t know if you were imagining it, but you could really smell Neteyam. A fragrant musk was pouring off him and Eywa help you, he smelled so good…

Aware that Neteyam was still waiting on an answer, and not wanting to appear affected by the close proximity you now shared with him, you spoke measuredly, “You’re just so polite and proper all the time. I guess I didn’t expect you to have such a wild streak.”

Neteyam took another precise step in your direction and he was close enough now that you could run the flats of your hands up his chest without any trouble. He was close enough that you couldn’t look at his face without tilting your head back. The atmosphere tightened with a type of enticing tension, cocooning you both in a tantalising void that made it very difficult to notice anything else apart from each other.

All Neteyam could smell in the humid air was you, the lovely perfume of your scent assailing his senses and making every fibre of his being ignite with desire. It made his blood pump fast and hot through his veins with the increasing pace of his thumping heart. You thought he didn’t have a wild streak?... Oh, how he yearned to introduce you to the red-blooded male that existed within him…

“The side of me you see when we work is only one side of me. I’ve got a fun side too.” Neteyam breathed softly and there was a gravelly note to his voice that you’d never heard before.

It was deep and captivating, and it breathed over you in hot shivers that made your nipples peak behind the covering of beads and leaves over your breasts. Ever so slowly, his head tipped downward towards yours and he took yet another step towards you, bringing the both of you almost front to front with nothing but a scant sliver of space left between you.

He continued, “Being my father’s successor demands that I maintain a certain conduct during professional and official clan affairs, but the mantle gets tiresome to bear. And I am just a man under it all, with needs and desires like any other.”

“Mm hmm.” Your acknowledgement was a wordless and breathy squeak. You felt as if you were caught in some trance and it felt like you were in a dream. Neteyam was gently sniffing you now, the lightly twitching of his nose tickling the skin of your temple and your cheek. The position put your own nose a mere inch or two from the skin of his neck and jawline and the musky scent of him was delectable in your nostrils and on your tongue.

“But my participation in these group liaisons really bothers you, why?”

Neteyam’s question wasn’t a rhetorical question, but there was a strange mocking hint in his voice that implied he suspected or knew the answer to his own question. You were unable to answer anyway. Your voice had abandoned you for the time being as a lump had taken up residence in your throat. You may have been unable to speak, but it didn’t stop your brain forcing you to confront the answer to his question within yourself.

You knew why Neteyam’s involvement bothered you. You were just in denial about it; too proud to admit that you didn’t like the idea of him mingling with other women because you were jealous. It was also true that you weren’t keen on group flings, but the main reason you had refused to go to the outpost until now was because you didn’t want to go along and see him and share him with others.

Neteyam hadn’t displayed any obvious interest in you previously, but it was evident even to you now that he was attracted to you. The concentrated muskiness of his scent was unmistakeable for what it was: arousal. Even with the intimate nearness of his frame to yours, neither you nor he made any move to touch each other with your hands.

Feeling a twinge of remorse for being judgemental and making presumptions about his character, a whispered apology fell from your lips, “Sorry for being presumptuous. I shouldn’t judge you.”

His response was equally quiet, “Don’t apologise, just come to the outpost tomorrow night. Consider this your personal invitation.”

Neteyam’s nose caressed the soft skin of your cheek and the action elicited an involuntary shudder from you. He stepped back a little to look you in the eyes and his own eyes were glowing bright. There was obvious desire swirling in their depths like heat through molten gold.

Despite the palpable lust between you, your conscience decided to make itself known and doubt began to stir in your gut, “I don’t know, Neteyam.”

“It’ll be just you and us. No one else.”

Oh… That proposition sounded rather tempting…

Neteyam’s use of the word ‘us’ reminded you that Lo’ak was part of the picture too. You, Neteyam and Lo’ak in a secluded space exploring the possibilities of sensual indulgence… You were a little shocked to find that the sentiment did not repel you. Instead, you felt a spear of anticipation low in your belly.

Seeing and sensing your internal deliberation, Neteyam gave a gruff chuckle and joked, “I outrank you. You have to do as I say as my subordinate. Just come to outpost tomorrow night. You’re free to do as you please and leave when you wish. It’s a safe space, I promise.”

Pursing your lips at his playful attempt to pull rank on you, you scoffed, “You can’t do that. You can’t make me come.”

You realised your poor choice of words too late, and it was clear that Neteyam had picked up on the innuendo as well.

A brazen grin flashed across his handsome face and it was the most conceited you had ever seen him look, “Oh, I’m sure I can.”

Parting your lips to object and make yourself clear, your words were stolen from you when Neteyam swiftly closed the gap between you to slot his lips over yours.

You stiffened in surprise for all but a moment before your legs turned weak and you sagged against him, the forward pitch of your body forcing one of your hands to anchor itself against his chest for support. It helped that Neteyam also looped a muscular arm around the small of your back, clutching you to him.

Eywa have mercy on you… The warm, moist draw of Neteyam’s lips over yours was intoxicating. You were hardly cognisant of the fact that you had dropped your half-finished spear from your other hand as your arms intuitively shifted to snake their way around his neck. Separating for a quick breath, you were about to lean upward towards him for another kiss when he moved to pull away.

You almost whimpered in disappointment. Maybe you did. You didn’t know. Still spellbound by the heady ambience, you gazed up at him speechless.

Neteyam chortled at the sight of you; eyelids a little heavy, cheeks flushed, lips parted as your shallow breaths puffed from between them. You looked ravishing and you had tasted even better. He raised a hand to cup your cheek and his thumb swiped in a provocative drag over your bottom lip.

“Just a little taste.” He crooned, and he let his hand drop then. He began to walk away slowly, but he paused a few moments later and turned to address you one last time, “Tomorrow night, paskalin (sweet berry). After last meal.”

You watched, rooted to your spot, while Neteyam disappeared into the luminous phosphorescence of the night.

Great Mother, what just happened?

Part II - Three is a Perfect Crowd HERE

Author's Note: Thank you to all of you who have read and enjoyed Part I! Stay tuned for Part II. You'll need to bring a towel for that... things get very, very juicy. Reblogs, likes & comments are always so, so loved! Let me know if you'd like a tag for Part II. 😄 Taglist so far: @teymars @eyweveng @leaveitbythewave @luvteyams @akiras-key @bajbr @questioningconstellationsstuff @reggiesslut @neteluvr @savvysscandles

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dolliels · 1 month

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I’VE BECOME THE FIANCÉ OF THE VILLAIN?! pt3

synopsis: going to bed after reading a horribly self indulgent romance novel, you seemed to wake up as an extra of the series. what stories will unfold while on a mission to find a way out?

author’s note: one more chapter to go! and then a prolouge ^_^

[one] [two] [three] [four] [epilogue]

you actually preferred when leona wasn't really talking to you.

maybe seeing each other everyday for two entire months sort of softened both of you guys up, you weren't so sure when leona started actually take an interest in you as a person instead of just leveraging off of you to eat and sleep, and to hide from his family just because 'he didn't feel like going home.' compared to the scary prince of the kingdom you read in the novel, leona was just a lazy bum. you really could not bring yourself to be scared of him.

when you're not at the bookstore, it felt like he was following you everywhere. it was at a certain distance, sure, but he was still right behind you. this had been going on for weeks. actually, why is leona still living at your place?

"this book isn't at the library in the palace" leona said dropping a book on the table.

"what? daphne du maurier? I didn't think the palace would enjoy a story like that. I made sure to put educational stuff only on the shelves."

"you know, it'll be nice if you put some worthwhile books on there. you've been stocking the library the most out of everyone and they're boring as shit."

"sorry." you said quietly. it's not your fault that the books are boring, you've shelved the library once! everything else is for your body's original owner to blame!

"if you go back to the palace, then I could stock up the place with all the interesting, fun novels." you added. if you get yourself invited through, then maybe you could look for a way to go back home. you were desperate.

"say… leona- i mean your highness…" you coughed out your mistake, hoping he didn't hear you.

you poured a cup of hot tea and passed it to him, now pouring your own.

"does the name 'roselia' sound familiar to you?" you pursed your lips as you looked at him stare at the mug.

"no, not really. what are you even talking about?"

"it's nothing. I was just wondering because err… i think it's a pretty name."

leona sipped the cup of tea. most of his scars were nearly faded on his arm, minus the missing patch of skin which was slowly growing back!) which you bandaged a thick cotton pad on.

"actually– no. i do recognize the name."

your eyes shone in eagerness. "oh really?"

"yeah. we have a neighboring kingdom whose princess had that name."

yes! roselia was a princess! this means that she does in fact, exist!

"'had?' what do you mean she 'had' that name?" you asked, cupping your tea to warm your hands. autumn was coming, and the house was a lot chillier than usual. you missed the heater you had in your house back in your world.

"she died from an illness, i think. i dunno, i don't know much about her other than her name."

oh.

roselia is dead?

wait, so how are you ever meant to go home???

all these transmigration books, the endless research, the praying, the hopes… were you meant to be here forever? is this your life now?

you sipped your tea and sighed deeply, trying to hold back you tears. you missed home.

"hey. you good?'

you looked up. "ah– im sorry, your highness. sniff "I just feel a little down today."

"you look like you're feeling down everyday."

oh, is it that noticeable?

'also, what tea is this?"

"earl grey."

"it's gross."

"you don't like earl grey?!"

sometimes, you realized you found some sort of comfort in leona kingscholar, the guy who thanklessly welcomed himself to your home. maybe the guy wasn't so bad after all. even though he won't go back to the palace, that is.

"your highness–"

you walked into your bedroom. after sleeping on the couch for so long, you got so sick of it you set a mattress right beside the bed and promptly told leona to sleep on the ground from now on.

leona refused and kept refusing but when you washed up at the end of the day, you saw him on the mattress, sound asleep. and you finally got to sleep in your own bed after so long. although he kept his side messy.

today, when you walked in, it was neat. and leona was nowhere to see him.

"uhhh prince leona?"

"what."

you jumped and turned around. oh, he's right there. whew.

"do you have a bag I could use?" he asked.

"huh? why?"

"I wanna take some of these books home with me."

"oh? you're finally going back home?"

"yeah. so do you have a bag?"

"I do… but I feel like you're not gonna be able to return it."

leona sighed and put the books back.

"okay. just come back to the palace to stock up."

"i can't go unless i'm requested."

"i'll request for you."

"oh.. okay!"

and then he was gone.

unsurprisingly, leona didn't have anything to take with him, since he came into your store on that very fateful night with empty pockets.

leona started living with you during the first few days you woke up in this world. he lived here throughout two months, so it was a little empty and quiet now that he wasn't here. the house felt so much bigger somehow…?

in a few days time, just like leona promised, you received a request to stock up some books for the library again. this meant you probably had to order a batch, so after some digging and researching and archiving, you made a fat list of books that you think leona would enjoy from what he read during his stay.

you frowned. why were you being so considerate of him?

actually, what was going on at all?!

by the time leona got injured from the book hunting and fighting the dragon, roselia would have found a series of letters he sent to certain people to aid in the assassination of king falena.

king falena originally died trying to save his son whom leona sent out to be killed, so he was anonymously in contact with all sorts of people.

then, when leona found out that roselia saw these letters, he would be wary of her intentions, thinking he must kill her because she will tell somebody about it. but the novel's transmigrated roselia pretended to help him so that she wouldn't die.

leona, already having a slightly altered opinions after roselia secretly helped leona heal from his injuries, hesitantly agrees to let her help him.

and so their love story would begin.

you would've known if leona was secretly sending letters, because you kept track of all the paper being used. (you have different kinds of different quality paper– you decided you never want to run a bookstore if you ever make it back home– too complicated.) and no paper was used without your knowledge.

he mostly slept and read books or followed you around, watching what you're doing.

you sighed. roselia was also dead. she died years ago, apparently, according to leona. so you had no idea how the story was going to go. it was fine at the start– roselia was not present, but leona's plan of murder were still constant, so you could easily keep track. now you felt like you truly existed in this world without any prior knowledge of help, because you had no idea what he would do next.

does leona have no more plans of being a tyrant anymore…? did they all dissipate?

you set out to order a batch of new books for both leona and your own store that afternoon.

delivery was taking a while, as per usual.

but once it arrived, you took it upon yourself to take a carriage to the palace as soon as possible.

the blue haired man with the long piece of paper saw you again. he was a lot nicer today.

"hello." he said, smiling.

"hi!" you replied, feeling cheerful. you hadn't realized it now, but you were unconsciously in a hurry to enter the palace as quickly as you can, wanting to take a glimpse of leona, and that oddly made you feel happy today.

"chilly today, huh?" you said, putting the books down.

"yes. and you are quite optimistic."

"i'm just in a good mood today" you replied. the weather was getting cold and you reminded yourself to dress warmer than ever before next time. this will be your first upcoming winter in this kingdom. you wonder if it's winter in your world right now.

"alright, if you say so. heading in now?"

"yup!" you carried a box as you stepped up.

"have a good day, mr…?"

"kifaji."

"well, have a good rest of the day, mr kifaji!"

you hummed to yourself as you walked down the corridors of the palace. last time, you had to carry 5 boxes full of books by yourself, but since today wasn't a day where the royal library really needed a ton of books, it was a pretty manageable box that you could carry easily into the library.

clack, clack, clack

you heard the sound of crisp dress shoes walk against the shiny marble floors. man, you're never gonna get over these floors. your house is full of creaky wooden floorboards and funky rugs everywhere (leona even questioned your taste. it's not your fault the person before you had a weird sense of choice in rugs!)

you put the box down to comfortably open the (very huge) door to the library when you heard shuffling behind.

"oh– your highness! wait- no, you don't need to carry that for me."

leona stood behind you, holding the box of books.

"it's fine. you came all the way here."

"alright…"

it was sort of weird, seeing leona. when he was living with you, he was mostly in 'commoner' attire. clothes you had stashed at the back of your closet, or new ones that you bought (from cheap stores. you weren't bothered to put him in a fancy getup)

although you did see him at the very palace, his wealth or status didn't really register to you because, well, you just recently woke up in this world and were adjusting to it and also because you were too distracted by his face. (you still think he's very handsome)

but now, seeing him, he truly did look like he was a prince. you could tell the clothes he was wearing was made from expensive fabrics. his shoes, you really liked his shoes, had a soft reflective surface that made them look elegant and chic.

as soon as you opened the door, leona carelessly strutted in and placed the box of books on one of the long tables they had placed in the middle of the library. (there are 3 of them)

you walked up to the box and opened it, taking out its contents.

"look, I got the daphne du maurier books that you really liked, your highness!"

you moved a little to the side so leona could join in on the book browsing.

you know, the more you think about it, the more you slowly consider him your friend. a friend? right? technically.

you slowly take out the books one by one telling leona every single book you've brought and what it's about. running a bookstore all day does make you read a lot.

however, leona is mostly silent. he's a quiet person in general, but he was a quieter than he usually would be. especially in a topic of conversation that honestly began with him requesting you to come and talk about it.

"say… y/n."

you look at him. you feel a little uneasy. leona rarely says your name. you're often regarded with a "hey." or a "you." or he just pushes you with his feet because he's not bothered to get up. honestly, he reminded you of your friends back in the real world. which made you appreciate him a whole lot more because while you terribly missed your friends, it was like he filled the void of what you needed to give yourself the push to research more and more about transmigration.

why do you think of him so fondly nowadays?

"yes…?"

"do you like the palace?"

you look down at the book you're currently holding, rubbing your thumb against its gritty texture of its cover. pride and prejudice. you weren't so sure if leona would ever enjoy a regency romance like this, but the way mr. darcy was a smug, prideful little bastard who did not view elizabeth as an equal, but soon came to love her and they had a nice, easy going relationship with each other. you thought it was a lot like how you and leona became 'friends' (you considered him one, you weren't sure if he did the same– why are you so awkward about this?!) but without their romance. yea, no. no romance. nope. just… friendship!

"yeah. i like the palace. who doesn't? this place is beautiful, it's like it's summer all-year round because of how warmly coloured the place is."

leona watched you look at the book.

"would you rather live in the palace, or the house you already live in?"

"hmmm." you had to think hard about this one.

"i guess… a normal person would say the palace. but i think i'd rather continue living at home. it's homey and cozy, it's special. even if it's not as big, it feels lived in and special." that was half a life. you would choose your house, but not for the reasons that you said. sure, it was comfy and nice, but it was so… ugly. especially the rugs. oh god the rugs. it was only because this was the first and only home you've lived in this world, you weren't really adjusted to learn the real estate system here.

"why'd you ask?"

"no reason. i just needed to make a decision."

leona grabbed the book away from your hands, forcing you to turn your entire body towards him when suddenly you felt a wave of heat approach your face, then your lips.

your eyes were still open in surprise, leona's calmly closed. like he had been planning to kiss you a long time ago. it felt like you were breathing a fresh breath of air, you suddenly had a carnal desire to breathe him in as you shakily lifted your arms up to hug his neck. his hand softly went to caress your head. fireworks were exploding inside of you (you weren't sure if fireworks even existed in this universe– but fireworks it was, millions of feelings traversed through you.) your eyes were closed and all your worries washed away. the only thing on your mind was how his lips subtly tasted like honey. you haven't had honey in so long and yet it was the tastiest, most desirable flavor in the world.

ultimately, you had to part lips, as both of you were running out of breath. leona's hand was still gently cupping the back of your head and you were glad he was, you felt dizzy and a little euphoric. your mind want you to calm down, but your body was rushing with so much heat that you wanted to kiss him more.

"and stop calling me your highness. i want you to call me by my name." he said in a breathy voice. you slowly nodded.

"okay. le-o-na." you mouthed his name very carefully against your lips before nearing your face against him and kissing him again.

TO BE CONTINUED...!

a.n: how we liking the series so far i feel like part two lowkey (HIGHKEY) flopped 🙈 also im just name dropping a bunch of gothic authors no idea if leona would like those types of books but since we caught him reading wuthering heights i was like why not keep a consistency

#disney twst #twisted wonderland #twst #twst fic #twst wonderland #twst x reader #x reader #leona kingsholar x reader #leona kingscholar #leona x reader #savanaclaw #isekai au #isekai

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leclsrc · 2 years

Note

hi, could you please do the five confessions prompt with charles?

proving my devotion – cl16

genre: fluff, sry charles is a pining yearning mess, title from this

send for five times the receiver almost says ‘i love you’ and the one time they do.

The plates clack against each other, dissonant in the otherwise still evening. Charles stacks one atop the other, awaits his mother’s nosy questioning—the inevitable gamble, every time he brings a girl home—but she’s quiet, humming a song under her breath, the one she always sings when she’s doing the dishes. Something’s different tonight, a slight change he can’t name.

“So,” he starts, because she won’t and the curiosity kills him. His eyes find you, with the ease he’s adopted in the months of knowing you, dancing with Lorenzo on the patio to a Luther Vandross song. “Thoughts?”

“Hmm. Tu es fouineur.” She teases, a glint in her eye. How the tables have turned, she seems to say.

Silently, over the dirty dishes, they both recount the day gone: the lunch moved from noon to half-past-three because Arthur burned the turkey, the dropped bottle of wine you’d gifted because one of Charles’ uncles accidentally let it slip from his hand (you said it was okay, it was just a hundred euros when it was closer to one grand), the guitar performance from Charles.

The way the sun had drowned in a sea of Monaco orange, and with it the stories of weddings, Jules, and Hervé, and the affair moved outside to the patio so Lorenzo could boast his brand new speaker that was so worth the many zeroes on the price tag, maman! And you had quickly found out Charles’ inability to dance was, in fact, genetic.

It’s a new sensation for Charles, a thrilling one, a frightening one even. He squeezes the sponge and watches soap filter through his fingers. He turns, lets his green eyes meet your soft ones. It’s an exhausting effort but he says it anyway, wrenches it out quietly: “I think… I think I…”

“I know,” Pascale says. She presses a kiss to his shoulder. “I see it.”

—

You’d taken home a frayed copy of The Little Prince you bought at a garage sale.

It’s so old, its pages have long yellowed and there’s evidence of past ownership all over it. Most notable of them is a name on the front page, along with a number that’s probably unused now. Isn’t it so quaint—and the words, babe, you’d said with conviction when he questioned your purchase, the words are in French!

You’ve been trying your luck with the language for a good few weeks, but it’s a brick wall—mur de briques, if you go by the textbook on your bedside table. You huff when you can’t translate the last lines of the passage you’re reading, tossing the book onto the empty space beside you that is quickly occupied by Charles’ bulky figure.

“Stuck again?” He asks, opening the dog-eared pages to find where your bookmark is nestled. Under your palms, you groan and nod with frustration.

“Don’t try me,” you say, voice gravelly. “I can’t translate it.”

The rough pad of his index finger traces the yellowed page, and he smiles softly at your many annotations. Verb conjugation, words you found easy, words you still forget now.

His eyes flicker up, to your lying figure, the freckles on your arms, the mole on your hip he can only see because your shorts have ridden down low. His heart swells, seizes, his mind rampant with thoughts of you. Please tell her, he says to himself. Tell her everything. Tell her how you find her in all the passages, in all the French words, in all the books, in all the times she says your name. She’s everywhere, she’s everything. Tell her tell her tell her you lo—

But the realness of it all chokes him, and he says instead, placing a big palm on your abdomen, “I’ll read it for you.”

—

There are few sentences considered odd on a paddock. People say anything on it—driver gossip, car gossip, celebrity gossip, engineer gossip. Charles can guarantee he’s heard some of the weirdest statements and Freudian slips (the one time Christian Horner called Toto ‘dad’) on a paddock.

“Carlos—pshhfhf—sprayed—pfffsh—whip cream—on my face!” …Okay, that’s. That’s different.

He turns, eyes wide. “What?!”

You stand in the doorway, frozen.

Your face is almost completely covered in white, and bits of your hair have fallen victim to the sweet spray of whip, too. You look frazzled and freaked. “I just got my hair blown out. I did my makeup. Dude. I look like a clown.”

“Oh, my God,” he says, already unable to contain his laughter. “I love you—!”

A millisecond passes him by like an hour. “—r uh, your new makeup hairdo, thing, a-ling. Thing-a-ling. Makeup. Your new makeup.”

—

There is an angel in Charles’ bed. She leaves a lovebite on his neck.

“Good morning,” he says, gruff. I love— but it stops itself before he can even open his mouth.

—

You get into a minor fight about cooking music.

Charles waves the whisk in the air, claims he will die on the hill of cooking to French jazz. You call it pretentious and crank up the Stevie Wonder. Eventually you fall into a repeated pattern of songs that satisfy the both of you.

“I read somewhere that if you roll basil up,” you say, chewing on a rogue leaf of mint from your pre-dinner mojito and walking up to him, “and chop it, it saves time trying to cut it up by itself.”

“Does it?” Charles asks, entertaining you. You roll your eyes and shove him lightly. He raises the knife in his hand, mumbles careful, baby under his breath. You insist he try, so he rolls up two leaves. Unfortunately, you’re right.

“So now we get to have pesto in five minutes instead of five hours,” you tease, kissing him. It’s minty, there’s French jazz in the background, and you’ve taught him to chop basil in the most affectionate soft-spoken way possible. It’s sacred. He’s afraid, he’s always been, that he would never be able to say it, that it would always be a losing game of wrestling words out of his throat—but now he’s not.

“I love you,” he mutters. It’s easy, unforced, natural. The words find solace, find home in the warm kitchen. He refuses to open his eyes because God knows what you’ll say then. Run away maybe? Throw all the basil to the ground? Down the entire cooler of mojito?

Your silence is deafening. “Did you hear me?” He opens his eyes.

A foolishly pretty smile greets him. “I got it the first five times.”

#f1 #charles leclerc #leclsrc2000 #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc smut #f1 x reader

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skipper1331 · 1 year

Text

Lost and found // Patri Guijarro

a/n: based off this request. Please enjoy :D

"Shit!" looking though your bag, you frantically searched for your keys. "Shit, shit, shit" You've looked in every opening of your bag but just couldn't find it. Everything important was on your bunch of keys, car keys, keys to your apartment, for the garage, keys for your childhood home, everything. "¿Qué pasa?" your favorite spaniard asked as she walked to you after seeing your stressed out face. She placed her hand on your back, an innocent act to calm you down. "My keys! I don‘t where they are!" Defeated you sat down, arms crossed. Where had you put them? "Why are you so stressed? Here, there they are" Patri wiggled with them in front of your face, grinning.

"Ah! What? How?"

"Maybe you should check your jacket the next time" the midfielder whispered in your ear, answering your question. She pressed her lips against your temple for a quick peck before she walked back to her cubby, Mapi and Alexia sharing a look.

"Fucking hell" you grumbled, looking for your phone. You could‘ve sworn you had it a second ago. You searched in the kitchen, your bedroom, the bathroom, everywhere. The only phone you found was Patris which was in the kitchen. As you entered the living room the spaniard sat on the couch, some movie playing in the backround. Your hands rummaged around on the couch, desperately looking for your phone. "What‘re you looking for?"

"My phone" you whined, turning around every cushion while the midfielder started to laugh. "Here," she gave you your phone which she had in her hands the whole time. How did you not notice? "I asked you if I could play my game on your phone and then you gave it to me"

Embarassed, you slapped your hands on your face, hidding behind them. How could you forget that? Patri was obsessed with that one game you had on your phone, she always asked if she could play and you never say no. "Don‘t hide that beautiful face of yours" her hands placed themselves on your hips, pulling you down so you sat on her lap.

The two of you weren‘t together but also not just friends, there had been a few sneaky, stolen kisses yet nothing more. "You can‘t keep losing your stuff, one day you‘ll get lost yourself" she whispered, her thumb drawing circles on your hip.

"I‘m trying" you mumbled as your head fell on her shoulder.

"But I had it the whole time" Patri told Pina, Mapi and Alexia in their native language. She found it too amusing how you dramatically looked for your phone yesterday. The three spaniards laughed at the story. "maybe you should help her look again" Pina stated as you rummaged through your bag.

"No! No, no, no" full of worry, you searched for your shin pads, you needed them.

"Wanna bet in 5 seconds Patri finds what she’s looking for?" Mapi challegened her team mates "we know you would win, look" la reina replied, nodding her head in your direction.

"They‘re made for each other, don‘t you think?" the young striker asked. Mapi with a mischief smile on her face looked at Alexia, her patner in crime, before she answered, "Sí"

"Not again!" you were angry and annoyed. No, this time it wasn‘t your phone what you‘re looking for nor your keys or any football related stuff, you‘re missing your headphones.

You unpacked every single thing out of your bag - nothing.

You looked in your jacket pockets - nothing. Trouser pocket - nothing. (They wouldn’t have fit in there but you looked there anyways)

Where could they be?!

"Cariño, what‘re looking for this time?" she smiled sympathetically at you. Sometimes she thought you would lose your head if it wasn't attached to your body. "My headphones!"

She took a step towards you, her hands went around your neck, not touching it though, but the headphones that were around it. She pulled them up, placing them on your ears. "There you go" she whispered, her hands now resting at your neck. "Thank you" you gazed in her eyes, the most beautiful you had ever seen.

"They would kiss each other If they weren‘t in the locker room" Mapi stated.

"They‘re clearly in love" Pina chipped in.

"I can only agree" said Alexia.

Please pick up, please pick up

"Y/n?" the sleepy voice of Patri rasped through the phone "Patri!"

"Do you know what time it is? It‘s 3am!"

"I‘m sorry, okay? But i- i don‘t know where I am and my phone will die soon" within in seconds the spaniard was wide awake, already out of bed. "What?!"

"I’m lost. Please can you get me?"

"What do you see?"

You told her about your surroundings - she knew where you were. Immediately, she ran to her car. Why the fuck would you be outside at 3 in the morning? Alone! She was furios. She ignored the speed limit, there was hardly anyone on the streets at that time anyway. Her only concern: you. How could you be so stupid and go out at that late at night. It‘s dark and your sense of direction was as good as Mapis signing. Horrible.

You sat on a bench, waiting for Patri, there was barely light, the only one came from the moon. When a car pulled up, you turned around but didn't get up. A few cars had already passed you, none of them the girl you‘re waiting for.

The car stopped abruptly as she drove onto the path which lead to you. An angry Patri stormed out of the car towards you. "Are you crazy?!" the spaniard shouted as she walked to you, "What were you thinking?" The girl was angry, more than angry. You opened your mouth to explain but- "Don‘t! Get in the car" crushed, you looked at her but followed her command, your head hung low, your eyes fixed on the floor. That was until you realized someting "no, please, no" you whispered, your hands went in all your pockets - no keys. "Don‘t you dare to say you‘ve lost your keys" Patri said as she saw how your hands went in every pocket.

"I haven‘t lost them, they‘re at home"

"Dios mío, Y/n! One time, one time where you don‘t lose your stuff!"

"It‘s not my fault!" Now, you were getting upset. You get that she was mad at you because you woke her up and she had to drive here but there was no need to yell at you for being forgetful - you weren‘t forgetful per se you just lose your stuff and don‘t know where it was. "Who‘s fault is it then? Hm?"

"Mapi‘s!"

"¿Que?"

Now, the spaniard was confused. Why - How could it be Mapis fault? "If she hadn‘t said that stuff, i would be in bed!"

"You lose your stuff quite often huh?" the spanish defender asked as she took a seat beside you. "And Patri always knows where it is" you looked at her confused, what was she talking about? "Kinda like soulmates, don‘t you think?" she slipped her arm over your shoulders "you‘re in love with her, aren‘t you?"

"What?"

"And she‘s in love with you" she was smiling at you but you couldn‘t tell If it was a nice one or the smiles where after that blackmail would come. "It‘s cute, you know, everyone knows you’re made for each other."

"What are you talking about?"

"Gosh! You‘re always on my mind! And today was no difference but that Mapis words haunted me. That I‘m in love with you and that you’re in love with me, that we‘re soulmates because I always lose my stuff and you find it," you couldn’t stop talking, everything bubbled out of you, "I- i couldn‘t sleep so i went for a run or a walk - i don‘t know and then I got lost. I didn‘t know who to call so I called you. Look, I know you’re mad and I know it‘s three in the morning but please stop yelling at me." you were walking up and down, trying to catch your breath.

"Are you? In love with me?" she took a step towards you, stopping you in your track as she placed her arms around your hips. "Gosh Patri! We kissed one- multiple times nothing more. Don‘t be so cocky" you couldn’t describe how you felt, you felt angry and upset and so caught up in your thoughts.

"I am in love with you" she pulled your body against her own before she pressed you against the car. "I‘m in love with you since the first time you lost something" her eyes met yours, yourself still rambling about Mapis words, your own feelings and the key you had forgotten at home. "You hear me?" She pushed herself more in to yourself, her hand up to rest on your cheek - you stopped talking. "I‘m in love with you. And those kisses weren‘t nothing. They were everything," she whispered against your lips, an inch away. You could feel her breath, "i don‘t care If you lose stuff but i care about you" pulling back again, a respectable amount of space between your lips. "Do you know how terrifying it is when you get a call at 3am from the girl you love who‘s telling you that she‘s lost!" her voice got louder before it got more quiet again, "Amor, I was worried not mad at you about waking me up" your mouth agape, not believing what she‘s saying. Your brain couldn‘t process everything, only the one thing that was the most important "you love me?"

"Yeah, of course I do"

You lunge forward, pressing your lips against the spaniards, a kiss so desperately needed. Your hands grabbed her neck, pulling her impossibly closer, her hands around your waist, tightening every now and then. It was euphoric. "I do, too" you whispered against her mouth before pulling her back in.

Lost and found.

————————

#patri guijarro #patri guijarro x reader #woso #woso fanfics #woso x reader #barcelona women #barca femeni #fcb femení #fc barcelona femeni #barcelona femeni x reader #barcelona femeni

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petrapalerno · 8 months

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✨Free Monster & Alien Smut✨

Hi, I'm Petra Palerno and write filthy otherworldly smut. I mostly dabble in novels but have recently decided to give erotic shorts a try here and on my patreon.

Pretty much all content on this blog is NSFW. Minors do not engage. For TW/CW check individual stories.

✨MASTER LIST

CURRENT FREE STORY

✨Abducted by Moonlight

A werewolf stalks his newly found human mate in the forest when a ufo abducts them both. What happens when the alien tries to stake a claim on her as well?

TW/CW [a WIP, will be added to]: Stalking, consensual sex, shifting, breaking bones, abduction, aliens, violence.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Like my writing? Support me by reading my other works!

✨Love on the Korlyan Moon

Out now everywhere books are sold

A bubble babe is unknowingly dropped into a mysterious ocean by the Deenz transport ship. Lena, a tattoo artist from the Twin Cities, is sure she's going to die as the bubble she's in sinks deeper and deeper. She's rescued by Kitaico, a color-shifting tentacled alien, and unknowingly takes his mating venom. She must cycle through heats all while trying to resist her attraction to Kitaico.

✨All I Wanted Was Sushi but I got Abducted By Aliens Instead*

Book #1 in the Bubble Babes Series

Opal is trying her best in the Midwest after the sudden death of her parents. Everything comes to a crashing halt as she's abducted by aliens and forced to work as a human dancer for extraterrestrial enjoyment. A chance encounter with an alien prince while stuck in a traffic jam might just change the trajectory of Opal's new life in space.

✨All I Wanted Was To Become A Scientist But Now I've Got An Alien Boyfriend*

Book #2 in the Bubble Babes Series

“Sometimes I think it would have been easier if I hadn’t accepted the free shower at the hot alien’s apartment.”

☆JESSY

For the past few years, my life has kind of blown. On Earth, I dedicated my entire existence to science, even if my peers dismissed me as a pretty face. When I got abducted by aliens, I was forced to dance in a bubble for extra-terrestrial enjoyment.

I can’t get anyone to take me seriously even in space.

When I escaped by crashing my alien captor’s bus, Gra’eth saved me from drowning and even offered me a place to stay. He keeps telling people I’m his mate, even though I keep telling him the human word for what we are is roommates, but he refuses to say it that way. Sometimes I can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic or serious—and for my very literal neurodivergent brain, that’s a big problem.

☆GRA’ETH

I never expected to have to save Jessy, and I certainly never expected for this strange human to be my mate. Her idea of fun would be to take apart my data pad only to see if she could put it back together again, which sounds like torture to me.

I’ve convinced her to stay in my apartment as what she calls a roommate. The mating bond won’t let me let her leave, but humans can’t even feel it. I don’t know how to keep things friendly when just the smell of her hair is enough to send me into a mating frenzy.

I don’t want to make her uncomfortable, but I can’t keep fighting the pull of this bond. This little speckled human will be the death of me.

✨All I Wanted Was a Glass of Vino but an Alien Duke Kidnapped Me Instead *

Book #3 in the Bubble Babes Series

The Bubble Babe series continues in this standalone novel.

Will an aquatic alien duke be able to reconcile the fact that his fated mate is a small, mouthy, human woman who can't swim? Will that human be able to love him despite his scars and the fact that he's keeping her captive?

☆MARTA

The reality of being a mob boss' daughter is anything but glamorous, despite what one might think. In the absence of true freedom, my only companion was my loyal dog, Bruno. When he passed, I felt like my life had hit rock bottom. But when aliens abducted me from my pity party in a local wine bar, I realized how wrong I was. As if things couldn't get any worse, I woke up in an alien duke's closet, forced to rely on a giant alien pleasure toy as my only means of defense. All I know is that the gaudy duke can’t stand me…and the feeling is mutual.

☆RAF’ERE

Throughout my dukedom, I have dedicated myself to restoring the fi'len species to their natural aquatic habitats. How in the goddess's name am I supposed to do that when this human is my mate? Despite her mouthiness, the tiny human cannot swim. Did that stop me from stealing her cryopod from a crashed ship and locking it in my closet? Absolutely not. I also didn’t expect her to wake up and demand answers, either. But I can’t expect my people to look at me to lead if a human stands beside me, despite how much my body burns for hers. The dilemma arises: should I prioritize the goddess's wishes or grant her the freedom she deserves, joining the other human refugees?

This erotic alien romance is part 3 of the Bubble Babes series. It can be read as either a standalone or as a continuation of earlier books. This book features a 5’2” plus sized Italian-American female male character and a 7’6” aquatic alien duke as the male main character. Tropes include Kidnapping, size difference, enemies to loves, reformed playboy, alien romance, fated mates, and forced proximity. This full-length novel (67K words) ends with a HEA.

#monster fucker #monster fuqqer #monster smut #monsterfuqqer #monster romance #monster lover #smut #terato #aliens #i love aliens #alien romance #alien x reader #alien x human #alien

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tulipsforyourlips · 5 months

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✧˖°. i found you ✧˖°. (3)

|| the sandman x dead boy detectives ||

SUMMARY: You run the dead boys detective agency along with your two best friends. And somehow two ghosts and a living girl make it work. Until you dream one night, of dream himself.

PAIRING: dream of the endless x fem!reader

WC: 3K+

WARNINGS: none i can think of

PART 3✧˖°.

"What the fuck." Your heart beat thunderously in your ribcage. "Are you stalking me?"

The goth guy paid no heed to your question. "I am Dream."

You just stared at him. "Oh okay and I am a nightmare?"

He only became more stern if that was even possible. He took a step forward.

"Don't. I'll call the police," you threatened.

He continued on without paying any heed to your threat. Who the fuck does he think he is?

"I am King of Dreams-"

"Dude-I told you not working."

"Stop talking.” His voice was low but the words were sharp.

But you weren't going to turn down your sass because of a man? Cmon.

"I am Dream-"

"I think I got that bit.”

An imperceptible flare of his nostrils made you zip your mouth. Wow you really got under his skin.

"I am Dream of the Endless and you mortal, have been chosen for a destiny greater than your cause.”

You gawked at him and broke into a chuckle, "o-okay Dream, Wait." You straightened. "Did you say the Endless? Like Death?"

You didn't know much about the Endless but you for sure knew Death was one. He did not answer your question but he did not deny your claim, so you assumed it an affirmative from him.

"How do I know?"

"Know what?"

"That you are infact one of the Endless and not a serial killer concocting stories to trap his victim."

He stepped closer and this time you let him. "Oh I do concoct stories.” He brought his hand to his mouth and blew...sand particles?

However you had no time to asses that for certain because the next second you were suspended in the cosmos, your body pulling in all directions, vivid images clashed in your mind, touring you through the entire world and all in a blip of a second. You grabbed the rim of your bedstand as your mind spiraled, reeling itself back to reality.

"Woah," you breathed out.

Had you just disrespected an Endless? And called him a stalker? You cringed.

"We will meet again," Dream said as he swooped his cloak over his head.

"Wait." He halted his actions.

"Why me?"

A flicker of emotion fired in his eyes, so brief you labeled it as your imagination.

"Goodnight mortal.”

You woke up with a start. And clutched your head in your hands, stupid dream. You glanced at your alarm clock and then realized it was broken, that you broke it and instead looked at the digits glowing on your phone screen, 5:00 am. Sleep would not come to you now, you knew that much so you put on your slippers and made your way to the kitchen, padding softly so as to not make any sound. You put on the stove and boiled the milk for some coffee, allowing your thoughts till now kept at bay to flood your mind. Okay so that was a dream, explains some stuff. But then those blurs in your dream, and you were sure you had seen him at the corridor yesterday. Unless you had watched a movie starring him and now you saw the actor everywhere. Nah that wasn’t true. But what about your dream? Ever since you were seventeen, you had dreamed only of that place with the mountains and the river. Or maybe before, it wasn't like you remembered anything before that, before your life here, with Edwin and Charles. Is something burning? Oh no. The milk was overflowing, dripping down the slab onto the floor.

"Fuck," you cursed.

How the heck did this even happen? You were staring right into the pot. You grabbed for a cloth, dabbing the milk away. The vessel was tarred black with the burnt milk inside. You couldn't do one bloody job properly.

"Turn around!"

You did, hands up in the air, heart beating exponentially fast yet again. Edwin was in his pajamas, a quizzical look adorning his face. The ghosts didn’t really need sleep but they still liked to bide the time away by resting when there were no immediate cases in need of solving.

"Hazel?" he furrowed his brows and then examined the mess you were standing in. "What are you doing? I thought you were a thief or a ghost hunter or something.”

"Ghost hunters exist?" You were genuinely surprised.

"Dunno," he shrugged. "It's 5 in the morning, how are you up?"

"A dream.”

"A nightmare?"

"Not exactly.”

"A different one?"

You nodded. Edwin was taken aback at that. He knew about your dream, and that it was the only thing you ever dreamed about. Hell he knew everything about you. Both of them did. They were your only family.

The sun was slowly starting to emerge from underneath the cover of the dark. Edwin approached you at your place on the couch, two coffee mugs in his hand, steam ascending from them. He handed you your mug and took his place beside you.

You took a sip of your coffee. "Mmm.”

"Passable eh?" He teased.

"Yeah." You threw your head backwards.

A comfortable silence enveloped you both, your shoulders touching and knees budging each other.

"You want to talk about it?"

It took you a second to realize the context, "No." You shook your head. "It's nothing.”

"Okay." He didn't probe further and you were thankful for that.

You felt someone watching you and you glanced at the window, only to find a crow? a raven? looking back.

"Bastards.”

You both turned your head to the source where a jealous Charles stood. "Are you having coffee without me?" He was acting like you both were cheating on him.

"Oi calm your horses, its not like your body requires coffee."

"And I care why? Everything is not about survival loser." He flicked your forehead.

"Ouch.” You sent him a glare.

"Okay I don't have the energy nor the patience to sit through this." Edwin got up. "You two, be ready in fifteen. Cases await us."

The moon was beginning to appear in the sky and the wind blew some mischievous strands of your hair across your face as you stapled the posters in your hands on the poles around you. A boy was missing, and your client was sure it had to do with some supernatural activity. It paid well so the agency didn't question it further. While the both of them were searching the location of his disappearance for clues, you were seeking more information about him. The wind knocked some papers out of your hand, and you bent down to pick them up. Your body jerked back when you straightened up.

Hand on your heart, you exclaimed, "Jeez!"

The goth guy from your dream stood before you.

"You seriously need to stop doing that," you gritted out.

And then suddenly your mind clicked and the words left you before you could stop them. "Wait you are real?"

Ever so slightly, Dream's face morphed into a question mark.

Okay so that definitely wasn't a dream, it was real. Very real apparently you realized as you assessed the man, no Endless standing before you.

"You need to come with me," he said oblivious to the raging commotion happening inside your mind.

You didn't reply, instead widened your eyes for an elaboration.

"To the Dreaming, my realm.”

"I can't, I am on a case.”

"Your friends can manage without you," he stated as a matter of fact.

You scoffed, "first of all that's rude, secondly-"

But before you could finish, sand, yeah sand for sure, began to swirl around you, gaining more motion until it enwrapped your entire body and when you next opened your eyes, you were in the Dreaming.

"Holy mother of god," you breathed as your eyes took in the throne room, the magnificence of it all, the colours shimmering in the glass pane, the cosmos swirling above you, the vastness of where you stood. You felt trivial, a bug in the path of a jogger.

"Lucienne I would like you to meet somebody," Dream's voice rasped and you revolved your head to face the woman his words were directed to.

A woman with skin like chocolate, sporting fashionable coattails and wearing spectacles that made her look infinitely wise or perhaps the glasses were just an addition to her preexistent wisdom met your eyes.

She bowed her head. “Greetings your lady."

You returned her gesture. "Hello Lucienne."

"Lucienne is my most trusted advisor and the sole librarian of this realm," the Endless spoke.

"Wow, I wonder what the library of the dreaming would look like.”

She peered at you in bafflement for a moment before quickly collecting herself.

"It would be my honour to show you sometime.”

"The honour would be all mine, Lucienne,” you smiled.

"Lord Morpheus," she called to the Endless.

Morpheus? Who the heck is Morpheus?

"Um who is Morpheus?" You decided to voice your curiosity.

A knowing glance passed between the two.

"It's another name I am called by.”

Oh.

"Lucienne go on,”

"There were further abruptions reported earlier around the house of mystery and..."

You were no longer paying attention to Lucienne's speech as your gaze travelled along the enormous cracks dividing the ground.

"Sorry to interrupt but is this part of the decor?" You asked the both of them.

"No," Morpheus sighed, "and that precisely is why you are here.”

"You don't have construction crew around here?"

Morpheus clenched his jaw, "We have Mervin, however this problem does not concern him. It runs deeper than you can comprehend.”

"Then help me comprehend," you said.

Morpheus eyes' pierced into yours, "All in time mortal."

Your legs dangled below you from where you sat in the library. As promised, Lucienne had shown you around and to say you were mesmerized beyond your wits would be a brutal understatement. You were in the dreaming, an entirely different realm, sitting in its library that towered even after you stretched your neck to its capacity, and were going through books that no mortal would have ever had the luxury of touching or even knowing that such pieces exist. Not to mention, having spoken with an Endless. An Endless? The king of Dreams himself. For a second you feared if you were dreaming again. But the old pinch sufficed to make you believe the opposite. But why? How? Your mind was a muddling mess. Guaranteed you had your fair share of weirdness working with the dead boy detectives but this was something entirely else. The librarian had introduced you to Mervin, who to your astonishment was actually a pumpkin head. You were after all in the realm of the dreams, if anything was possible, it was here. A sudden caw pulled you from your spiraling. A crow perched on your shoulders. No a raven? Was this…the raven from before? The one you had glanced in the living room's window?

"Hi kid, I am Matthew."

You weren't as taken aback as you thought you would be at the talking raven. You were slowly getting used to all the craziness.

"Hi Matthew, I am Hazel.”

"Pretty name.”

"Flattery doesn't work on me, just for your information," you stated, your gaze fixed on the words in the book propped open on your lap. "It might serve the goth guy you work for stalker.” You narrowed your eyes at the raven.

"Ooh, a feisty mortal, nice you and I would get along very well.”

And you both did. It would have been just minutes chatting away with Mathew but as your laughs erupted in the silence around you, you felt you had known the guy forever, the raven, oh the raven that had been a guy once.

"Matthew," Dream's cold tone quieted you both. “Leave us alone.”

"Yes boss," the raven obeyed.

"Accompany me,” Dream said as he turned away expecting you to follow behind.

Arrogant.

You fell in with him, a question on your lips when the gates to the palace opened. The question forgotten, your mouth parted in amazement as you stared at the vast expanse of gardens before you. You exited the palace steps, incredulity lingering on your face as you inhaled the sheer exquisiteness of the place you were in.

Dream ushered his head in a direction. "Come," and continued that way.

You jogged to match up his pace.

"What do you know about the Endless?" He asked.

"Very little," you admitted, "I mean I know there are seven of them, Death being one and now you apparently, but I'm afraid that's about all the knowledge I have."

"It is still more than what humans generally know about us."

"Well it's the courtesy of my friends.”

"Ah, your ghost friends," he disclosed.

You stopped in your tracks. "You know?"

"That they are ghosts?" He walked on.

"Yeah I just wondered- I figured you didn't know and that's why you didn't tell Death.”

"Oh Death knows," he revealed the information with a glint in his eye, as if he was enjoying your reaction.

"What?" You cried. Gathering yourself, you said, "Then why doesn't she..go after them? Bring them to the sunless lands and whatever?" You joined him.

"Death has her reasons. She is far kinder than you know.”

"I, I don't know what to say."

Morpheus did not try to continue the conversation. You both walked in silence for some time. Questions ran rampant inside your head, but never left your lips.

"Ask," he said not tearing his eyes away from the path.

You didn't even realize he had sensed your hesitation. Questions grappled with each other to be released first and in that brawl you muttered the stupidest of them all. "How many names do you have?"

If Morpheus was surprised at the choice of your question, he didn't show it. "Many.”

Wow okay that was one elaborate answer if you heard any. Did it pain him to speak?

Just as you had accepted that's all you would get from him, he spoke, "Dream, Morpheus, Oneiros and Sandman to name a few.”

"The Sandman? As in the fable Sandman?"

"Tell me mortal, do I look like a fable to you?"

"Fair point," you mused.

Taking the opportunity of his answering mood, you exploited your luck further. "Can the mortals visit the dreaming anytime? I mean how does this even work?"

"Yes, whenever a mortal sleeps, he enters my realm where I contain the unconscious of the entire world.”

"That sounds…tough.”

"Does this mean I am sleeping right now?" You queried further.

"Exceptionally, no. I brought you here. Your soul and your body are both intact at the present and there is no trace of you in the waking world."

Your mouth opened once more to ask him another question, when his raspy voice cut through the air. “You get one more.”

The ego of this man, fine you insolent arse.

"Do you ever get lonely?"

If you were paying rapt attention you would have noticed the falter in his steps but your eyes were trained on his face.

"No," he answered.

"Seriously? Not ever?"

"You have run out of your questions and your friends must be waiting for you." He turned his body towards you.

But before he could procure his pouch of sand from his cloak, the ground gave a sudden croak beneath you. Followed by a deafening cracking as the very ground you stood upon began parting into two.

"What the-," you started.

Dream grabbed your elbow and pulled his cloak over you both. The universe itself seemed to wrap around you and in the next moment you were in the waking world. He released his hold on your elbow as if your touch had burned him. He would probably need to wash his hands after touching a mortal.

"Stay here," he ordered.

Before you could object, he had vanished. You waited in the clearing, the stack of posters on the ground and the moon bathing you in its light. You were gone for more than half a day but only a few hours had passed back here. Times moves differently here, Lucienne's words entered your mind. After waiting another 10 minutes, you got up from your position on the ground, collected the posters in your hand, and began to make your way back to the apartment. He wasn't coming back.

Just as you were out the woods, Morpheus' voice reached your ears. "I told you to stay there.”

You turned back. Moonlight filtering through the trees illuminated his pale skin to ghastly pale. He looked beautiful. What? Shut up brain.

"I thought you weren't coming back."

Morpheus didn't say anything to that. This guy really needed to work on his communication skills.

"What was back there?"

"The realm is collapsing, at the rate of the damage we have very little time."

"For what?"

"To prevent it from happening.”

"But-"

"Rest tonight mortal. We begin tomorrow." And with those obscure words he was gone in a blur.

You opened the door to the apartment and were immediately met with yelling. "Where the fuck were you?"

"You just totally vanished!"

"We searched for you everywhere!"

"Why weren't you answering your phone?"

"We were worried!"

Charles and Edwin's frenzied voices overlapped each other.

"Guys guys stop!"

They both fell silent.

"I am sorry I-I had to be somewhere on an urgent business and my phone died down."

"Next time the very least you can do is inform us beforehand," Edwin chided you.

"I swear the situation was out of my control, I promise it won't happen again."

Edwin's features softened and he asked, "Are you alright?"

You exhaled, "Yep I am aces."

"Get your own catchphrases," Charles muttered behind you and draped his arms around your neck from the back. "We are just glad you are back safe and in one piece.”

You leaned against his frame. "You can't even lie properly.”

"Hey sod off.” He broke apart the embrace.

You laughed at his tantrums.

"Anyways you wouldn't believe the adventure we had today. It was brills. Turns out the missing boy was actually..."

Yeah you wouldn't believe the adventure I had today either. We begin tomorrow, the words scraped against the walls of your mind.

A/N: phew the stage is set. so lmk ur thoughts<3 i would love to hear em!!

SERIES MASTERLIST ✧˖°.

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604to647 · 6 months

Text

Mi Galleta (Part 3 - Salted Caramel)

4.5K / Modern AU Grumpy Bouncer!Pero Tovar x Sunshine-Rich Girl!reader

Summary: Dating Pero feels like a dream, until you overhear something that makes you question everything.

Warnings: 18+ Content (MDNI please), dating Biker!Pero needs a warning (check out the ✨vibes✨), allusions to smut (reference to oral, unprotected PiV, aftercare, fingering, semi-public sex), dirty thoughts, the bike helmet stays on 🤷🏻��♀️, pet names (Cookie, princesa, hermosa, etc.), misogynistic, classist and degrading language used to talk about women (not by Pero, but... you'll see).

A/N: A friend of mine once told me that the restaurant business can be super misogynistic and I was actually shocked to hear some of her stories 😣 For our story, Lin isn't one of those types of establishments, but sometimes, bad eggs make their way into a good carton.

Series Masterlist

You wake up the next morning naked and snuggled into Pero’s side, your arm draped over his broad chest. Trying not to wake him as you carefully climb out of bed, you look back and admire Pero’s peaceful face, much soften with sleep and framed by hair messy and tossed from the previous night’s activities. Gosh, he’s so handsome. Even the scar over his left eye is becoming one of your favourite features; a fearsome token of some past violence that belies the softness of the gentle giant who bears it. You wonder if he’ll ever tell you where it’s from. Throwing on a camisole sleep set and robe, you pad out to the kitchen and leave your snoring Adonis to his rest.

Grinning to yourself lazily as you make coffee, your mind drifts back to events of last night. Of the multiple orgasms Pero pulled from you with his skilled mouth, hands, and cock. Of the heaviness of his balls on your tongue and how sweet and salty he tasted as you worked his length down your throat. God the things that man said in bed: calling you a goddess one minute, then his dirty fuck doll the next, all while you bounced cock drunk on his lap. His eyes, however, never expressed anything but devotion and wonder, grounding you even as he made you shudder and convulse in pleasure. Humming contently while cooking eggs, you’re pulled from your daydream state only when a strong pair of arms wrap around your waist and patchy scruff tickles into your neck where Pero whispers, “Good morning, Cookie.”

Turning in his arms, you immediately lose yourself to the searing kiss Pero lays on you. He had missed you the moment he woke up and found himself alone.

After Pero accepts your invitation stay for breakfast, he sips on his coffee and takes in your apartment; you’ve decorated for a clean and classic aesthetic, it’s not overly opulent but there are obvious touches of luxury and understated elegance that trim the furniture and personal items that litter the grand space. You catch him admiring the breathtaking panoramic view of the city through the window wall running down the length of your apartment, “Really nice place you have here.” He doesn’t miss your slight wince at his compliment; blink-and-you-miss-it, but he catches it before you smile, almost apologetically, “Thanks. It used to be an investment property of my parents’. They gifted it to me when I started work in the city to help me out. Or to claim the tax deduction.” You make the joke, not sure why you think you should feel embarrassed? Because normally, you’re not. You love your place and you’re so grateful to your parents, but you don’t want Pero to think you’re some type of… freeloader? You're not even sure where you head is at with this.

Sensing your discomfort, Pero sweeps you into his arms; kissing you gently, he explains, “I just meant, this place is beautiful and I can tell you’ve poured yourself into making it a home. It’s calm. And welcoming. I see you everywhere here.”

Your chest swells with emotion and a little embarrassment at how quickly you had gone on the defensive; Pero’s been nothing but kind and sweet. Face still buried in his shoulder, you nuzzle in even closer to envelope yourself in his warmth and whisper, “Thank you. It’s my favourite place in the world.”

Over a delicious breakfast, Pero asks you what your plans are for the day and you tell him all about the famers’ market you like to visit on the weekends. When asked if he wants to join you, Pero looks thoughtful, “I’d love to, Cookie. But I have to work at 3:00 today… and I had planned on making you come a few more times before that.”

Giggling at his shit-eating grin, you cross to the other side of the table where Pero is sitting and climb into his lap, “How do you plan on doing that?”

“Over you, under you. On every surface of this gorgeous apartment, Cookie. Gonna give you a couple more reasons for it to be your favourite place,” nudging your nose with his a few times, Pero urges you to open your mouth and let him in. His kisses are unhurried, long and sweet; sated with good food and the promise of unfettered access to your body, Pero feels no reason to rush. Fingers finding the knot of your robe, he works it loose with his nimble fingers and opens the garment to reveal the soft satin number underneath, “My my, what do we have here, princesa?” Pero licks his lips and his eyes darken as he takes in the way you shiver and your nipples perk up and tent the delicate fabric when he slides the robe off your shoulders.

You never make it to the farmer’s market.

Dating Pero is like something out of a movie. Most nights you enjoy decadent, late dinners with Pero after he gets off work; he takes you to some of the city’s most celebrated and exclusive restaurants, always entering through some hidden staff entrance and eating in private rooms or employee access only areas. Whenever you ask about paying, Pero waves you off and say there’s a restaurant staff quid-pro-quo arrangement with Lin. You’ve never heard of any type of restaurant industry secret community, but you suppose it’s possible. Either way, the food is always impeccable and the company is dreamy.

Being a biker’s backpack is one of the most unexpected, yet fun things you’ve ever experienced; you love riding with Pero. Some nights, he’ll take you for casual, aimless rides in the city, just weaving through the busy streets; the city lights always seem to be brighter and even beautiful when whipping by in streaks. Other times Pero will pick a farther destination under the guise of trying a bakery or some local delicacy, taking you out on the open road for longer rides. You think you like these rides more; when you’re alone on a highway or side road, you’ll egg Pero to go faster and he will just to amuse you, loving when you squeal from excitement and hug him tighter.

Pero loves taking you out on his bike, too; he loves the weight of you against his back and the feel of your hands wrapped around him and the way they press up against his stomach, and, if he plays his cards right, grip and rub his thigh. When he lowers his speed, he’ll hold one of your hands in his glove, loving the way your slender fingers intertwine with the leather. He should buy you gloves, he thinks. He does buy you a helmet.

Surprising you one day after work, Pero, looking like a dreamboat, turns heads in his sleek dress clothes topped with his motorcycle jacket as he leans against his parked bike. Crying out in delight when you see him curbside in front of your office building, you practically leap in his arms before slotting your lips over his in a hungry kiss. Not caring if your co-workers see, you open your mouth to Pero’s and let him lick into your mouth slowly and sensually; he cradles your head in one of his big hands, the other pressing you flushed to his broad frame. Pero on the other hand wants your co-workers to see (and maybe even hear) as he worships your soft, supple lips with his own, his hands working their way lower on your body until they’re both full of the plush globes of your ass. Mine, he brags, as he massages and gropes, turning you into putty under his touch.

“What are you doing here, Pero?” you exclaim happily, thrilled by the surprise.

“Took the day off today, Cookie. Thought I’d come grab ya, surprise you with a present.”

“A curbside pick-up and a present? What did I do to deserve this?” You’re still learning not to be surprised by Pero’s thoughtfulness. Turns out you didn’t have a clue just how thoughtful he could be because you’re positively floored when he reaches into his backpack and pulls out a helmet smaller than the one he wears, and holds it out to you with both hands.

“For me?” A question more rhetorical than anything, you’re astonished as you reach out to accept.

Pero is pleased by your reaction, “For you, princesa. Gotta protect that pretty head of yours.”

“Should I feel special? Or is this the helmet you keep on hand for all the girls you let ride… your bike?” your eyes crinkle mischievously, leaving no doubt of the double meaning to your words.

But Pero isn’t about to let this romantic moment get away; he turns the helmet in your hands so that you’re looking at the back before he leans in to plant a soft peck to the upturned corner of your mouth, “Brand new just for you, Cookie.”

You look down and see that on at the very back, near the base of the shiny black helmet, is a small silver etched cartoon of Hello Kitty baking cookies. You love it! It’s so cute. So you. Pulling the helmet over your head, it smells brand new and you feel the baby pink lining personally picked for you fit snug against the sides of your head; definitely not a shared helmet. Internally, you swoon.

“I love it!” you call out loudly so Pero can hear you through the thick plastic. Grinning big back at you, Pero helps adjust your chin straps before playfully flipping down your visor, “Looking good, hermosa. Ready to ride.” He winks at you before helping you up onto the back of the bike and putting on his own helmet. You’re overcome; it’s more than the fact that Pero cares for your safety. Your heart flutters at the idea that Pero is planning for future bike rides with you, frequent enough that it warrants you getting your own gear. When he takes off, you hold on to him tighter than necessary.

---

That night, he fucks you on all fours, naked except the helmet. The protective headgear muffles your pornographic screams of ecstasy, while the sensory deprivation amplifies every orgasm he pulls from your overwrought cunt. After he paints your insides white, Pero runs you a bath to help soothe your strung-out body; cradling you in his arms under the steamy water, he asks if you might like to do that again, but where he keeps the helmet on as well. Sleepily, you tell him the truth, “Anything for you, Pero.”

The next morning you come twice while riding him just from watching the way your tits bounce in the shiny reflection of his helmet visor.

Sleepy Sunday mornings with you are Pero’s favourite. The two of you still naked from the previous night’s lascivious activities, bodies tangled in your crisp bed sheets, just talking; he’ll press soft kisses to your hair while you draw endless designs on his chest with your perfectly manicured nails. It’s as close to domestic bliss as Pero’s ever felt.

“Cookie, don’t take this the wrong way…”

You tilt your head up to see Pero smiling indulgently and raise your eyebrows to play along.

“Why aren’t you married to some rich investment banker, living in a mansion and being treated like the princesa you are?”

You can tell it’s a genuine question, not meant in any way to be insulting; you think you also read unspoken questions in Pero’s eyes: Is that the life you want? What are you doing with me, then? Something to get out of your system before you settle down?

You lay your head on Pero’s chest, chin resting on your hands as you try to be thoughtful about your response.

“I probably could be, if that was what I wanted? I’ve dated those guys before, I grew up with a lot of them, and they can be nice enough. Although, I suppose some of them aren’t.” Pero’s eyes darken at this but lets you continue. “It’s just that with everything they do, they… I guess, maybe a way to describe it is, they lead with money. Having money, making more money, showing off what money they have – it’s what drives all their decisions. It’s core to who they are or who they want to be.”

You take a deep breath, “And that isn’t necessarily a bad thing, and it doesn’t mean they are bad people. But, I don’t know? My measure of value and success has never been wealth. I just… never want money to define me like that. I wouldn’t want to feel like it’s my identity.”

Pero seems quiet, giving you a chance to add, “I know that that’s a very privileged thing for me to say. Money is important, and I’m very lucky to not have to worry about it. I’d just want to live a life and be someone, be with someone, that contributes beyond that.”

You sigh. It sounds silly even to your ears; first world problems, indeed. But Pero pets your head lovingly, lightly massaging your temples with his thumb and reassures you, “I don’t think you have anything to worry about, Cookie. I’ve seen the way you care for your friends, and the love you hold for your family. Life has treated you well and you don’t take it for granted. You carry yourself with gentleness and pour kindness into everything you do. Everyone you meet or is lucky enough to know you is made better having had a chance to bask in your sunshine. Including me. Especially me.”

Pero’s sweet words have you tearing up. You’ve suspected it for a while, but now you’re sure that of the two of you, he’s the kinder one; he of the tender heart. You remain convinced that it must be some sort of cosmic prank that one of the most deeply feeling men you’ve ever known makes his living being intimidating and scaring people on purpose. You think you’re falling in love with him.

“You’re so different than people think you are,” you whisper, contemplatively.

“Oh, how’s that, hermosa?” he gives you a deep scowl, not unlike the one he wore when you first met, but you’re not fooled. You don’t think that scowl will fool you ever again. You crawl up his body, and break up your words with soft kisses all over Pero’s neck, jaw, face, lips, “So you’re a little grumpy. But grumpy is a mood, not who you are. You’re fiercely loyal; maybe you don’t have a million friends but the people you decide to let in, you treasure. You’re a friend for life. You’re hardworking and you love what you do; and even though you’re supposed to be intimidating for your job, I’ve never seen you treat anyone disrespectfully. More often than not, you lead with kindness. And you’re so generous! Both with your time and your good humour. And thoughtful. The most thoughtful man. You’re always so considerate of my heart and feelings – don’t think I don’t notice when you do things just because you think they might make me happy. I’m so lucky, Pero. Maybe I’m not living in a mansion, but I’m already being treated like a princess.”

“You deserve it, princesa. And more,” Pero wraps his arms around you and rolls you gently so you lie beneath him, caged in by his strong arms and his heavy gaze, “I’d do anything for you.”

“I know,” you whisper, before closing your eyes and letting Pero show you how deeply your words have affected him.

Once, you asked Pero what he loved the most about riding a bike, and he told you it was probably the sense of freedom and also calm that the open road brings him; then throwing you a wink, told you that having a pretty backpack to show off was getting up there.

Your favourite part of rides with Pero is ironically when you’re not riding at all, but when you’re stopped by the side of the road for a breather, to take in a pretty view, or if you just can’t wait to get home to sample the food you rode all that way for. You’ll sit on the backseat and Pero will sit with his back against the fuel box facing you, the shared food placed in between. As you savour the trip’s procured delicacy, Pero will pull your legs off the back peg and massage the back of your calves lovingly, melting away the tension built up from the long ride. Inevitably, he’ll start to inch his hands higher and higher; how far you let him go really depends on how horny you are that day. Most of the time, you're wet with want for Pero by this point of the ride, powerless against how adept he is at turning you on – once, while you were parked in a rest area right next to the highway, he had walked his hand up your skirt to stroke you over your soaked panties so expertly, you had been one shudder away from just letting him finger fuck you to completion while unsuspecting traffic zoomed by. You don’t tell Pero, but lately you’ve had an increasingly vivid fantasy of sinking down on his cock and riding him on his bike out in the open, public decency be damned, until you both come, moans drowned out by passing commuters who get the show of a lifetime.

As it is, sex with Pero leaves you breathless and more than fulfilled. He worships your body and reaches parts of you that you didn’t even know existed, setting you on fire with his every touch. His particular brand of filthy dirty talk combined with gruff praise, gets you shockingly wet every time; just the memory of his low baritone growling ‘good girl’ in your ear can have you distracted and fantasizing about his dick at the most inconvenient of times. More than once, you’ve had to turn off your camera during a work video call, afraid that your colleagues would be able to read your far off, cock drunk expression for what it is.

You’re definitely falling in love with him.

“Do you think it’s weird that I’ve never been to Pero’s place?” you wonder out loud. You’re not sure it bothers you, but it’s something you realized only recently.

“No? Not weird… but I didn’t know you hadn’t,” says Eloise, surprised.

Dorothy doesn’t even look up from her magazine, “No, it’s not weird at all, babe. I mean, I’m sure your place is way nicer than his.”

“Maybe. Well, I don’t know really, I guess,” you crinkle your nose.

“No, babe, it’s definitely nicer. Maybe he thinks his place isn’t good enough for you. Or maybe he’s too scared to find out if you don’t think his place is good enough for you,” Dorothy says with certainty.

You can’t imagine Pero being scared of anything, “That kind of thing doesn’t matter to me.”

“We know it doesn’t!” sympathizes Eloise, “But if you’re thinking about it, why don’t you just talk to him about it?”

You nod; you think the next time you see Pero, you will.

The next day, you make your now typical lunch time trip to visit Pero; when you walk into Lin’s lobby, it’s empty but that’s not unusual. Walking over to the reception desk where Pero works, you see that his computer is on so you decide to just wait until he comes back, unpacking a small container of snickerdoodles you brought for him in the meantime. As you put the container on the desk, you’re surprised to hear voices coming from the small alcove for the staff elevator hidden in the corner of the lobby.

“Heard you got yourself a designer pussy, Tovar.”

“Best part of working in restaurants like this is getting a shot at all these rich sluts who wouldn’t normally look twice at you on the street, but now they want to slum it with the kitchen staff.”

“Hey, come now…” That’s William’s voice, you realize; the other two you don’t recognize.

“Oh you’re a married old fart, but I’m sure you’ve got some of these wannabe trophy wives throwing themselves at you. You can’t expect us to believe you’ve never had a taste!”

“Yeah, how you can look at that piece that Tovar is tapping and not want a slice for yourself?”

“Or do you guys share her? She into that?”

“Fuck, if she’s into that, then please, please call me the next time she wants to go to Paris. Better yet, bet she’d pay for an actual trip to Paris. Chick probably has more money than she knows what to do with. Let her pay for that good dicking, yeah?”

“A couple of us have a little competition on who can bag the hottest, most desperate sugar mama from the restaurant. You want in, Tovar? There’s a prize for who can keep it running the longest too. You’ve been banging her for a few months now, so you’re a shoo in for that. So fucking easy. All you gotta do is give these dumb rich bitches a little bit of attention and they’re opening up their legs… and cheque books like that.” You hear a finger snap, followed by loud, spine-chilling cackling.

You think you’re going to be sick. You’ve never heard such misogynistic, classist, and honestly vile talk in your life; you’re about to march over to the alcove where these assholes think they’re so cleverly hidden and given them a piece of your mind when you hear Dorothy’s name.

“Your girl got that friend, Dorothy? Oh fuckkkkkkkkkk, wanna tap that snobby, entitled pussy so fucking bad. She’s always strutting around the restaurant like she owns the place; want to put her in her place… on my cock.”

“Introduce me, Tovar. Or you saving her for yourself? This skirt you’re fucking now is just a stepping stone to a bigger, richer fish? Hey! Kudos to you man, but do me a favour – when you’ve moved on and up, send that pretty thing over my way for some comforting. I’ll make sure she’s fucked so good she doesn’t even remember your name.”

You haven’t heard Pero’s voice at all during this stomach-churning exchange; you keep waiting for him to speak up and shut down this type of talk, when you hear the cruelest sound you’ve ever heard.

Pero’s laugh. He’s laughing. Then you hear William join in, and soon all four men are laughing uproariously. At you. At your friends. At women. Women who have the means to dine at this restaurant which apparently means they’re stupid, desperate, and not worth any respect or even the decency of being treated like human beings with feelings. All of this is what Pero thinks of you. Every cadence of his ongoing laugh is sharp like cruelty itself, piecing and shattering your heart. You didn’t even know there were men out there that debased and demeaned women this way; how could you have let one into your life, your bed. Your heart. They laugh for what feels like forever; you can’t stand to listen to it anymore and you flee.

---

Pero can’t help but laugh at what fucking idiots this busboy and dishwasher are. They were spewing such despicable garbage and they fucking dared to talk about you in any such derogatory way, and did so with big smug grins – did they seriously think there wouldn’t be repercussions? No fucking way anyone could be that dumb, he laughs. William joins in on the same wavelength as Pero. The laughter crescendos for a while before William catches his breath and manages to choke out, “You guys don’t even know...” Still laughing, one of the idiots manages to ask, “Know what?” And that’s when Pero goes silent, grabs the asshole by the neck and shoves him up against the wall, “You don’t even know how much shit you’re in, talking about my girl like that.”

“Hey dude, we were just kidd-,“ the busboy doesn’t even get to finish his sentence before Pero reaches out and William shoves him into Pero’s outstretch hand.

“Shut up. I talk now.”

Though gritted teeth, Pero growls menacingly, inches away from the dishwasher’s face, “You piece of shit. You don’t deserve to think about her. Talk about her. Or share the same air as her. If you ever go near her, you’ll be eating through a tube.”

He slams the busboy up against the wall next to his friend, “This is what is going to happen, William’s going to take you upstairs, and you’re going to thank him, because it was me, you’d both be losing blood before the elevator doors even closed. You will get your things, and you will never fucking set foot in this restaurant again. You’re fired. Your last cheques will be mailed to you. Never come back.”

He punctuates his point by pulling back and shoving both frightened men into the wall again, harder than before, hands firm on their throats, “…I’m this fucking close, just give me a reason to squeeze.”

“Pero.” William’s voice is barely audible through the thick cloud of rage fogging up Pero’s brain. He felt physically disgusted at the way these two morons had talked about you and that they had even thought about you in the manner they were describing. His sweet Cookie - the kindest and gentlest creature he had ever known. That these assholes had contemplated laying a finger on you made him see red. Never mind they trying to taint your friend, or any woman at all, with their gut-less filth. They had said there were others like them, he seethed; he would root them all out and deal with it today. If he could find it within himself to let go of their necks, that is.

“Pero.” William’s second attempt to bring Pero back down to earth finally ringing through. He lets go, and the two pathetic excuses for men slide down the wall they had been pinned against, gasping for air.

“Every restaurant worth working at will know what kind of shit you pull with their female patrons, don’t ever bother trying to apply for another restaurant job ever again. Get the fuck out of my face now.”

William roughly hauls the two idiots into the staff elevator and out of Pero’s sight as quickly as possible, lest Pero failed to contain his rage any longer.

Taking some deep breaths, willing himself to calm down and for his breathing to even, Pero walks back to the front desk hoping there aren’t any patrons waiting in the lobby. When he gets to his seat, his heart plummets. There, on his desk, is a container of cookies. From you. You had been here. What had you heard? It couldn’t have been anything good because you had left without making your presence known. He’s desperate to see you, comfort you. Pero frantically rushes out the front doors and looks up and down the busy sidewalk, but you’re long gone.

Fuck.

#pero tovar #pero tovar fanfiction #pero tovar fic #pero tovar x reader #pero tovar x you #pero tovar x f!reader #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #modern au #modern!pero tovar #no y/n

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sstormyskyess · 8 months

Text

Pitch Black - Chapter One

author's note: here's 141!! now that they're in the picture the story can really take off 😁 please enjoy!! also, if you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series, send me a message in my inbox or the replies!

cw: none!

word count: 2800+

You had made yourself quite the problem as your contract ticked down and was renewed multiple times. It was near impossible for anyone in or working with TF-141 to rest at any point; you could be anywhere. You had managed to keep track of the force everywhere, even outside of Urzikstan. America, Britain, anywhere TF-141 might be, you followed.

This new base the task force set up shop in was so far out of the way that no one should’ve been able to find it. An abandoned weapons cache right near the border of Urzikstan was hidden well under the cover of trees and stuck smack dab in the middle of a valley, mountains and hills on all sides. No one should’ve been able to find it, and yet you did.

You had found a crawl space under the floor of the warehouse that you could just barely squeeze into. You reveled in the fact that the warehouse was built on dirt rather than concrete, with only a wooden floor separating it from the earth. It only took a little bit of digging to get yourself tucked right under the floorboards where TF-141 was detailing the various steps of their plans once they crossed the Urzikstan border.

You keep your eyes wide open to track their movements with the shadows cast by the fluorescent lights above head. Your recording device was on and active, taking in every little bit of planning they were doing: the locations, times, and personnel that’d be present. You’ve been down here for a day or two at this point, the same routine for each one. Wake up, eat something from your pack, listen in, copy it down or record it, assess the state of patrols around the building and sleep.

Once you feel satisfied with what you collected and know that you only have a couple days to get back to Al Qatala, you prepare to evacuate the premises as quickly and as quietly as possible. Before you leave, you make sure to leave your cheeky calling card, a page from one of those little post-it note pads shaped like a star. You wait until there are no shadows hiding over the small end table they were using to plan around, slip your note through the floorboards and start to shuffle out of the tunnel.

As you go, you wonder to yourself how the boys in TF-141 feel about you. You wonder how they reacted whenever they found your calling cards. Were they confused? Or angry? Or even simply resigned to it? You can’t decide which would be funniest. Of course, there were four of them so it couldn’t possibly be the same amongst each one of them. They weren’t a hivemind, after all. But, unfortunately, you’d never know.

You look out of the crawl space and into the night, peeking from side to side to ensure the patrol schedules were going as planned. You narrow your eyes when you realize that no one was passing by. Hell, no one was even present on this side of the building. You weren't typically the type to make mistakes about things like this, but you have to consider the possibility. Maybe you’d mistaken what time it was. You might have caught them in the middle of switching shifts, but none of this seemed particularly likely.

You cautiously push yourself further out of the mouth of the tunnel. You were starting to regret choosing a space that was so claustrophobic; this damn tunnel was making it too hard to move quickly in case you needed to. A slight oversight, but you feel it won’t be that much of a hindrance.

Once your head is fully out of the hole, you take a better look around, scanning for movement. The coast was clear, it seems. You crawl further out, and then all the way. You stand up and pull your bag out of the hole with you, slinging it over your shoulder, ready to start your quick escape into the woods.

All of a sudden, you very quickly realized that the coast was not clear. An arm that feels as thick as a log clamps around your neck and shoulders in a chokehold, squeezing as hard as possible, trying to take you down, no doubt. Your mind works quickly; you pull your karambit out and flip it into place. After keeping a close eye on these folk for a while, you know just where to cut to get past the tactical armor. You stab as hard and deep as possible in the position you were in.

And yet, the assaulter held strong. You get worried when you realize they weren’t going to let go, no matter what you did to stave them off. Your vision starts to blur the more you struggle, the karambit dropped into the grass, and your legs start to weaken while you kick at the assaulter. It took ten seconds, tops, for you to pass out and fall limp in their hold.

“Do you think the little bastard will talk?” Gaz looks at Price, who has his arms crossed and his hand playing with the heavy mustache on his upper lip. “Can’t be sure. At least wiping away this stain will be one less thorn in our side.”

Ghost tosses your unconscious body on a rickety old chair, one that was already in the weapons cache when they got there, with no grace or care for your comfort and ties your wrists and ankles to it. He grunted as he moved around, the cut you made in his side stinging and still bleeding. “You all good there L.T.?” Soap asked with a tilt of his head. “‘M fine. Little shit’s good with a blade.” Soap moves closer to take a look at the stab wound in his side, grimacing. “Got ya good, eh? I’ll get you something for that,” He says as he meanders off to get some first aid.

“The little weasel should be up soon. Hopefully we’ll get some answers.” Price muses while he hands off your gear to Gaz for inspection. “Look through all that. Might be something useful.” Gaz nods and crouches to empty it all out. “Right away, cap’.”

Price’s predictions were accurate, as expected; you start to come to consciousness, your eyes twitching and opening up slowly. “What the fuck…” Your words slur together as you roused from sleep. You wince at the bright fluorescent lights that burn into your eyes almost instantly. Seems like being underground for a few days really got you accustomed to the dark. “Where…?” You mumble quietly. Your slow awakening is abruptly cut short when you get jostled and shoved by someone. “What the hell?” You cough out. Your mouth and throat feel ridiculously dry. How long have you been out?

You look up and your heart drops at the sight before you. “Shit.” You grumble and give a brief tug at your restraints. You sigh when they, predictably, don't budge. “Shit’s right, mate,” Soap takes a glance over at you as he approaches again, medkit in hand. Ghost stands to his full height from where he’s been kneeling in front of you.

“Alright,” You clear your throat a couple times. “I’m not trying to get waterboarded or have my ribs broken, so let’s get this over with, yeah?” You lean back in the chair and roll your shoulder, the chair’s instability making your muscles stiff.

“Pretty confident, eh, y’weasel?” Soap chides, glancing at Ghost disinfecting his wound before fixing his eyes back on you. “Not trying to sound confident. I’d just like to get this over with.”

You look at the man in the boonie hat, knowing that he was the voice of authority among these guys. “Well, let’s get started then. First, what’s your name?” Price stares right back at you. You roll your eyes. Of course that’d be the first question asked. “You’re not getting my name.” You state plainly, your frown deepening.

“I thought you said you didn’t want your ribs broken.” Ghost glares at you. That stare could make anyone’s blood run cold, and you were no different. Luckily, you’re able to keep a deadpanned look on your face while staring right back. “I never said I’d tell you everything you wanted to know. It’ll depend on what you ask.”

Soap chuckles. “You really are confident, aren’t ya?” He looks over at Ghost, whose eyes have narrowed just a touch. Ghost walks up to where you’re sitting, standing more than a couple feet above you, and wraps his hand around your throat. He puts some pressure on his grasp, feeling you swallow under his fingers. He watches your eyes lose a little bit of the scorn that they held before. It was replaced with a twinge of fear. He smirked at that, the subtle quirk of his lip hidden under his balaclava. “Are you gonna tell us your name, or not?” He punctuates his words with a tight squeeze to your throat, closing off your windpipe.

You wince, gripping the armrest of the chair. You whisper out, as best you could, “Can’t—talk if you’re—” You take in a short labored breath past Ghost’s grip. “Choking the shit—outta me,” You wince when Ghost squeezes harder again, making his face clench up. A few more seconds of pressure and blood was rushing to your face, your vision blurring a bit, and then a little more… And then, Ghost lets up. You cough hard, doubling over and curling in on yourself as far as you’re able to with how restrained you are.

“Brat.” Ghost says under his breath while he steps back. Price pipes up again. “Now, your name?” He tilts his head. After you regain yourself, you look at the floor, boring holes in it with your stare. You think hard, calculating what could be the best way to navigate this scenario that you’d got shoved into. A deep sigh passes by your lips when you look back up and into Price’s eyes. You’re about to speak before Gaz dumps out a plastic bag full of your fake IDs, at least six or seven tumbling out of it. You look over at him and stare for a moment while he rifled through them, examining them thoroughly.

“Give us your real name. We know none of these slips are real.” Price says sternly, almost like a parent scolding a child. You look down again, your head still slightly reeling from the lack of air you’re still trying to catch. You clench your jaw before looking back up again. You state your name plainly, your tone less defiant and more annoyed now.

“That wasn’t so hard, now, was it?” Soap smirks at the change in your demeanor. You look at him, narrowing your eyes. “Fuckin’ prick,” You grumble before turning back to the captain. “That good enough for you?”

Price nods. “Sounds good to me.” He gets a nod from Soap and Gaz, but not Ghost. He seems just barely mentally present, staring you down. “Ease up. I’m not going anywhere.” You purse his lips.

“Ghost?” Price looks at him and tilts his head. It takes Ghost a couple seconds for the words to register in his head and only then he turns away. “Affirmative.” He replies.

“Alright. Let’s move on,” Soap pulls his pistol from its place on his hip and moves to stand behind you. “It’s been almost a year since your first cheeky little note.” He stalks around to your other side, his gaze burning a hole in your head and dragging along the backside of your skull. “Good time tracking skills.” The smugness in your reply was a stark contrast to the shudder that passes down your spine in response to Soap’s slow, calculated movements. Soap scoffs, stepping closer and grabbing your chin to tug your face up and back to meet his eyes. “I suggest you keep your mouthiness to a minimum.”

You wince when your head is roughly tossed back down. You sigh out a shaky breath. “Right. What do you want to know?”

Price bent down to meet his gaze. “I think you’ve got a pretty good idea of what we’re looking for,” he tilted his head, “Don’t you?” You listen to his words and rest your head on the back of the chair, mostly to avoid eye contact. You had figured this was where all of this was leading to the moment you woke up and saw these four staring you down. Unfortunately, you had no answers to this particular line of questioning.

“If you want to know about Al Qatala, I have no clue. I’m just a freelancer.” You open your eyes back up and are met with Soap’s steely gaze pinning you down. He lingers behind you and crosses his arms, pistol still in hand. You focus back on Price. “I’m not privy to any plans they use your data for.”

Ghost, in the meantime, helped Gaz scan through your belongings. You looked past Price and at the other two, your eyes narrowing. You don’t have much to lose in there; you’ve gotten over having anything personal or sentimental in that pack. As far as the world at large was concerned, you were dead and gone. Only a few people knew you had ever existed, and almost all of them were hostiles. Having anything that could elude your existence was compromising to his operations as a snoop.

Ghost picks his head up for a second and meets your glare, matching and exceeding the irritation in your eyes. Your staring contest lasts a few more seconds before Ghost motions to Price with a jerk of his chin. Roscoe looks back to Price, who snaps his fingers right in your face to get your attention. “Answer the question.” He grumbles.

You completely missed whatever Price had asked, but you figure that saying “I don’t know,” was the best you would’ve been able to come up with anyway. You flinch as the barrel of a pistol tapped the side of your head from behind. You growl softly, turning just a bit to look at Soap. “I don’t. You really think they’d give themselves the chance to compromise themselves by giving me their plans?”

“So you’re telling us you’ve got no idea what any of them are doing right now? You don’t have a clue what they’re up to.” Price stands to his full height again and crosses his arms over his chest. You roll your eyes and turn forward again. “That’s going to be a trend with most of the questions you ask me, I’m guessing.” You sigh.

“I find it hard to believe you know nothing after a year working with them.” Price continues. “Well, I don’t.” Your matter-of-fact tone prompts Ghost, who’s stood up by now, to clear the space between you. He stares. You stare back. Then, a heavy gloved fist clocks you across the jaw, making you bite down on your tongue trying to think through the searing pain. You don’t have long before your head is yanked up again. “Gettin’ tired of your horseshit, rat.” Ghost mutters, his voice low and growly, like a wolf ready to tackle its prey. He grabs your bruising chin with a tight grip. “Get talkin’.”

You swallow down the urge to spit a mouthful of blood onto his scuffed up skull mask. “I’m not in the business of lying. And I’m certainly not the type to make claims without proof.” Your voice is hoarse as you go on, “I don’t have the information you want. I’m not gonna lie to save my own ass.” Your words become garbled near the end of your sentence when blood from your tongue starts to pool in your mouth again.

Price sighs before motioning to Ghost and Soap to let up. They both hesitate, looking at each other for a moment. Ghost drops your chin and Soap’s pistol is taken off the back of his head. “Put the wanker in the bunker. We’ll try again tomorrow night.” Price instructs, helping Gaz pick up the sifted through bag on the floor, replacing all the implements. Ghost blinks slowly and hoists one of the arm rests into the crook of his elbow, following Soap to a set of steps a few meters away from where he was set up.

They drag you down into the dark room below the floor. Ghost tosses the chair down and makes sure it was set upright before turning and walking outside. He looked back at Soap and walked back up the stairs. “You’re taking first watch.” Soap’s eyes widened. “Hey, who said that?” He called back to his superior. “Me.” Ghost calls back before he disappears up the stairway.

“Well,” Soap sighs and gives one last tap to your forehead with his pistol. “Don’t get into any trouble, ye bampot.” He huffs before walking out of the room and slamming the door shut. Even through the door, he could hear your chair scuffing over the floor with loud squeaks and creaks from the chair legs from you struggling against the restraints. Soap shakes his head and leans against the wall next to the door to relax, a small sense of relief flowing through him at the thought that they had finally caught you. Just one more loose end taken care of.

𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @synthe4u, @leiaa34

[if your name is crossed off, tumblr wouldn't let me tag you :( i'm sorry!!]

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blackflash9 · 4 months

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AC and the Conundrum of Sequels

So I've noticed a particular trend that paraded many people's minds within the AC community, and that's been the gradual descent into this rather presumptuous mentality that the more sequel games a character has, the more unequivocally 'better' their development is as a character. This is often followed by Ezio used as the poster child.

[Disclaimer: I don't hate Ezio or Bayek, I'm just using them to illustrate my points] While I understand this sentiment, I've also learned that under a more critical lens, a lot in the case of Ezio's supposed "growth" has arguably always been more aesthetical than anything of substance. When we are first introduced to Ezio in AC2, we are already bombarded with a character that is far too perfect. It's hard to think of any genuine flaws in his personality or behavior - especially those that have any lasting consequences for the plot. He never quite makes any mistakes either; it doesn't help that everywhere he goes there's a small army of people desperate to help him out. He also has actual armies willing to help him at the drop of a hat, as well as being best friends with one of the smartest people in human history. His achievements in the plot are all handed to him on a silver platter.

He's never made to learn to do anything for himself. At first, you feel like that could have been the point of the early game. Ezio's father and brothers are dead, he's a wanted man and he needs to protect his mother and sister. Then, instead of trying to get them to safety, he prioritizes a chance for revenge, which suddenly brings the whole city down on him, making it harder to protect his family. The whole thing would then set up a story about Ezio having to grow up, stop being so brash and arrogant, etc. Having been born into luxury and an easy life, he now has to learn how to provide for himself and others. But these opportunities are missed.

When it comes to Ezio's motivations, I always felt like there was no reason for him to continue pursuing the Templars after all the Florentine conspirators were dead. Nor is there any kind of "Creed" or higher calling at play here, since he doesn't remotely know what the Assassins are for another ten years. He just hears that there are some bad guys in Venice and decides to go kill them. By this point, he doesn't have any real reason or motivation to continue hunting them other than his own blood lust. As a result, Ezio often feels like he is a vehicle is that dictated by the plot rather than the other way around.

I mean, only look at the average description for his character arc: "He went from a young teen to wise master assassin and mentor." That's all there is to say for most people: arbitrary labels. Rarely do you receive any commentary around here that delves into any shifts within his mindset, outlook, point of view, or anything that isn't just this parroted and outdated take. When we get to Brotherhood, this problem is exacerbated more where Ezio is even more static than he was before (aside from leadership and giving orders), because his arc was already concluded in the game prior where we already spent over twenty years with him where he was already leading people and giving orders. It's just more pointless and reductive padding.

Bayek is another character that normally gets wrapped up in the sequel discussion, but genuinely ask yourself: Is there anything else left to do with Bayek in a sequel? Much like Ezio in AC2, his arc is also pretty much wrapped up by the end of Origins (including the Hidden Ones DLC). He begins looking for revenge for his son's death; takes a stand against the Templars when he realizes the problem is far bigger than just himself; founds the Assassins to fight this corruption. What else is there to really do with the character? His arc's been concluded, it's not even like AC2 where not killing Rodrigo Borgia left a door open for a potential sequel. Any new game would essentially have to come up with a load of new goals and motivations for him to the point you may as well just come up with a new character.

But this is frustrating because we see complete and profound development from characters like Altair in a single game, even before Revelations. He begins as an arrogant jerk who sees himself as better than everyone but slowly becomes a wise individual upon learning from the complexity of his enemies and the contradictions within his own Creed. It's learning from his allies and enemies alike, learning the pros and cons of concepts like freedom and control, about what is gained and lost from acquiring both in life, does he truly become not just a better leader for the brotherhood but a better man.

We also see the same from Connor in a single game. Starting as a naive idealist who wants to fix all the world's problems, only to realize that he'll never be able to do so. The consecutive deconstruction of his naivety through each of his interactions with allies and enemies alike teaches him that the ability to judge right from wrong can sometimes be lost in a world that's presently reluctant to do the same. But through it all, he maintains his faith in his convictions and compromises with what's in his control to forge a better tomorrow for humanity. Altair & Connor reach the same conclusions about life, human nature, and their place within the ongoing struggle in one game, a fraction of the time, as much, if not more than Ezio does in three. Yet, more is needed because we've been spoiled and entitled to more than what was necessary with Ezio. And it's honestly this fixation that holds this series back. Whenever we delve into this topic, I never really feel like the underpinnings behind what sequels actually did for Ezio and his characterization are discussed beyond the surface-level shallow aesthetics, or the ignored light-switch motivations that have made many in the community so insistent that every other character must also have this kind of treatment.

#assassin’s creed 3 #assassin's creed #assassin's creed 2 #ezio auditore #ezio assassins creed #ac origins #bayek of siwa #ac bayek #connor kenway #ratonhnhaké:ton #altair #asscreed #seriously it's the time you make not the time you have #sequels are overrated yo #at least in this series it is #assassin's creed brotherhood

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charmercharm3r · 1 year

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Phases

LMH, HJS

Masterlist, Story Masterlist

Story synopsis: Whoever said patience is a virtue have never met Jisung and Minho.

warnings: smut, explicit sexual content, poly!minsung x fem!reader, lots of kissing and groping lol, more specific warnings in individual chapters

PREVIEW, Phase One

“Y– you wanna kiss me?” Jisung’s eyes widened, pads of his fingers coming up to press against his lips.

Taking his hand away, you guided it to your neck the way he did to you earlier. “Since we’re being honest, I can’t stop thinking about that night, you and him.” His grip tightened just a little as your hand splayed over his chest and slowly rose up. “Can I? Kiss you?”

“Oh my god, I’ve been waiting for you to as–”

Jisung pulled you into him before he could finish his thought, slotting against you with ambition. He felt just as you imagined him, eager but mindful in how to hold you, letting you set the tone with just closed mouth smooches as the sounds of your lips smacking bounced off the bedroom walls. Both his hands found their way into your hair and pulled you impossibly closer until your body fell onto him entirely. You didn’t know what to do with yourself, kissing your best friend until you were both breathless and needy, knowing better than to do anything more.

But oh, how you wanted to. You wanted to kiss him everywhere, make him cower into the sheets and make him feel how much you loved him. There was just too much right now, too much to be figured out. A night of desire wasn’t worth a lifetime of friendship.

So as you pulled away, reluctant Jisung whining and chasing after you for more, you let your forehead rest against his and let out a satisfied laugh. “Slow,” you whispered, letting him pepper kisses to your cheeks.

“Can’t we just jump to phase three?” He breathed against your skin.

“What’s phase three?”

Jisung’s lips made their way down your neck, his tongue leaving wet streaks the further he descended. “You, me, Min, a big ass bed covered in rose petals and candle light. Maybe a kick ass playlist to set the mood–”

The sound of your phone ringing made the both of you jump as if you were being caught doing something illegal. You broke into another fit of giggles when you found out it was Minho calling you. “Hey, pretty boy,” you answer him with a grin, still looking down at Jisung who stared up at you fondly.

“Jesus, Y/N. Are you okay? Why haven’t you been answering? Are you home? I– I’ve tried calling you for days–”

“Two days, Min.”

“Days. It’s been days.” Jisung could hear his voice booming through the phone, laughing and shrugging at how it’s the same thing he’d told you.

“I’m okay.” You eased his worries with two simple words, hearing him sigh on the other end of the call.

“You’re okay,” Minho repeated, relieved.

There was a pause in his breathing, probably unsure of what to say as he walked on eggshells. You knew this about him, he needed careful approaching, as Minho doesn’t like what he doesn’t already know. “I’m coming over tomorrow,” you stated.

“I’d be upset if you didn’t.”

Chuckling lightly, you let Jisung bring your fingertips to his lips and press a kiss to them. As you smiled at the man beneath you, you spoke into the phone, “love you.”

“Whatever… Love you, too.”

“Love you, too!” Jisung yelled into the speaker before you hung up, hearing Minho let out a strangled call of the other boy’s full name and the line went dead.

A/N: ahhh this has been a story on my mind for a longggg time and i finally have motivation to write it! part 1 is almost ready to be posted, just need to edit and such so if you like this preview and wanna be notified when it’s up, leave a comment and i’ll tag you for the future chapters!

tags: @sensitiveandhungry @babebatter @aliferousminho @changbinluvr @epiphanynaffit @fawnpeaks @linovely @dumplinbokkieracha @finnydraws @naturules @djeniryuu @hamburgers101 @skzhomiehopper @yesv01 @hyunjinsamdl @lyramundana

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percontaion-points · 1 year

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Court chapters 152-155

Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions

Chapter 152

While I agree that Hudson’s plan has the best chance of success…that’s not saying much when the odds are in the single digits in the first place.

Chapter 152 summary: If you seriously thought that they would have done the planning off-page and then jumped into actually defeating Cyrus… HA. You’ve clearly been reading a different book than I have.

They literally stand around for four pages and discuss their plan. It involves Remy punching the magical barriers that the evil witches put up.

Chapter 153

“Oh, I think I can manage,” he says. And then, out of the blue, he shifts in a blaze of shimmering colors, evolving right before our eyes from a vampire into a gorgeous amber-colored dragon.

Chapter 153 summary: Hudson’s pep-talk to Grace is quickly sidetracked by the others talking about… riding roller coasters at Disneyland. I’ve got fucking nothing at this point.

Chapter 154

Then, in front of my fascinated eyes, he pulls his right fist back and then plows it as hard as he can straight into the web of light that makes up the force field around the witches.

Chapter 154 summary: We take a full chapter and five pages of them simply getting into position. I’m so fucking done with this goddamned book; when will this torture end?

Chapter 155

The rest of us follow right after him, and Remy closes it behind us.

Chapter 155 summary: As soon as Remy punches the first barrier, they begin to fight the witches. And then them fighting the witches is the entire chapter.

#Crave series #Court (Crave 4)#chapter 152 #chapter 153 #chapter 154 #chapter 155 #Remy (Crave)#plot? what plot?#padding padding everywhere and no story to be found #I would ask where the editor was but I think we all know there was none #Grace (Crave)#Hudson Vega

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vespaer77 · 3 months

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Fic: I'll Tell You in a Song

Read below or on AO3

Pairing: Gale x named f!Tav (College of Lore Bard / Zariel Tiefling Rating: M for eventual smut Word Count: ~4800 Possible CW for imagery dealing with su!cide/self harm

Shayla Moonsong was once a very typical bard, in every sense of the word. A student of the College of Lore, her mediocre skill with a sword was even worse than her athleticism. Fortunately the pretty pink tiefling had other talents that kept her out of trouble, usually by way of a bonny sonnet… or an occasional bedchamber. But then she became the host for an illithid tadpole and everything changed. She changed. The easy freedom of a light tryst with a man like Halsin should have been ideal, but she found her heart longing for someone else. Someone who was miles away in Waterdeep, forgetting about the bard who didn't understand him, or understand what it was that she needed until it was gone. What is a bard to do, then? When she falls in love… but it's too late?

Chapter One: The Wizard, The Real One

"Is there a loan shark in the audience or something?" Jory asked.

"Hmm?" Nelsyn replied, but she didn't look up from her lines. He supposed that was fair. She was busy letting Sara fix the adhesive on the curly teal wig that sat between her horns, and Jory knew as well as anyone on cast that nothing good came from troubling the crew. He let his heavy bear pelt slip from his shoulders as he sat down in the empty chair next to her.

"She's been there all night," he told his friend as he nodded toward the entryway to stage right. "Boss lady. We've been touring this show for months. We could all do it in our sleep, she knows that. Never seen her hover like this."

And there was no reason for it. "The Fall of the Absolute" was a roaring success. The production was Shayla Moonsong's crowning achievement, a media darling, and the current obsession of a whole continent. She'd catalogued volumes of stellar, five-star reviews thus far, and was selling out box offices everywhere she went. The show was the hottest new thing since "Volo's Guide to Sex in the Elemental Planes."

But it wasn't her biggest accomplishment. It wasn't what she was truly known for.

She was the Hero of Baldur's Gate.

She faced the illithid Netherbrain herself, and won.

And the tale they were telling in front of all those people was her story.

Heavens knew the winsome bard had faced far greater perils than watching a chapter of her life play out on a stage.

And yet there she stood, on this most unremarkable of nights, leaning just inside the door frame where she could observe without obstructing. Where she could scan the audience like a scrying eye, searching for... something. Normally she'd be flitting about like a cloud of gnats directing the cast and crew, answering questions, giving orders, helping the caterer, filling water jugs, finding toilet paper, running errands, meeting VIPs. Trying not to go crazy. But not tonight. Tonight she stood very still, chewing her thumbnail and unconsciously flicking the tip of her tail over and over, hard to the left.

And Jory remembered what Nelsyn had said about what it meant when tieflings flicked their tail to the left.

She was clearly nervous about something.

"Well, we're about to do the big emotional number," Nelsyn finally told him, closing the cover of her script while Sara gave her wig a good yank to test the glue. "It's the one all the teenage girls are sobbing over their sketch pads for right now."

She stopped to take a sip of water when Sara bent to pick up her cosmetics case. The girl made a gesture to Jory to give up his seat, and he tripped over his own feet unfolding himself to stand up. Once again he was reminded why he was cast as the big druid, Halsin. Shayla had told him once that while he wasn't quite as tall as the real thing... he was close. He wondered how easily the boss lady's former lover would have fit into that chair.

"This is our first time in Waterdeep," Nelsyn continued, trying her best not to move her lips while Sara applied a fresh coat of pink stain. "She probably just wants to see how it gets received. She doesn't really get to just sit out there and watch, you know?"

"Yeah."

"Could be it," Sara told them both, bunching her eyebrows and concentrating on keeping her hand steady. "Part of it, anyway. That is her favorite character out there, singing his heart out about the bomb in his chest."

"Her favorite character? The wizard?"

"Someone else got a bomb?"

"Please. Everyone knows I'm her favorite character."

"Listen," she replied as she wiped the applicator clean with a kerchief, "you're a good looking kid, and no one hates watching you take your clothes off out there." Nelsyn snorted, but they both ignored her. "A healthy percentage of ticket sales is probably yours, no one's arguing that. But that's not enough for you to game the win."

"Game the w- what?" Jory laughed, his oiled obliques glistening as he pulled the bear pelt back over his shoulders. "Look, I'm not trying to make it a competition or anything, okay? You brought it up. But I literally play an archdruid who carves ducks, sings to squirrels, and adopts orphans. Plus? He looks like this." He swept his hands grandly over his abdomen, flexing muscles most people had only seen in paintings or medical textbooks. "And did I mention he's also her boyfriend?"

"Her ex-boyfriend," Sara corrected him, pointing at Nelsyn as she spoke. "Have you even listened to the song she's getting ready to sing? You know. The one about love? And sacrifice?" She shifted her weight as an intern sidled past her to tidy the table, refill their drinks, and bag up the trash. "And don't tell me you haven't looked at Erik with both of your eyeballs. We've all seen him. The man has eyelashes as long as your forearm. And the biggest, saddest, wettest brown eyes on the face of this planet. He's like a baby cow, okay? I'm just saying." She stood to let the intern past her again, and bent to drag her cosmetics case out of the way. "This is the man she cast to play the lead in the big romantic climax of the whole show. When the main character realizes she's in love and it's too late. She's managed to capture," she pinched her fingers in front of her face, "the very essence of what it means to have sad children mooning over this show for years to come, okay? The baby cow is a cash cow. And he is clearly her favorite character."

"I think the vampire is her favorite character," the intern said, unprompted, as she reached to help Nelsyn out of her seat. "He's everyone's favorite character."

"You're all wrong," Nelsyn told them as she sloughed her way out of her robe with great theatrical flair. The intern caught it before it hit the floor, just as she'd done so many times before. Nelsyn stood with her hands on her hips and a gallant curve to her tail, casting her eyes toward the rafters and beaming a heavily pink-stained smile, resplendent in her artificially distressed leather armor blotted with thick fake blood.

"I'm her favorite character," she said, glowing with certainty. "And it should be obvious. I'm her! Now, stand back and watch while I go make a bunch of little girls cry!" And with that, she grinned devilishly and pranced toward the stage.

But once she was gone, the intern leaned forward and beckoned. Jory found himself instinctually drawn to listen.

"Well, you wanna know what I heard?" she whispered, and her eyes landed on Shayla for only just a moment. Jory nodded out of reflex. "I heard a rumor that someone in the orchestra pit overheard the boss lady telling someone in the box office that there was going to be a special guest tonight."

"What. Like, family?" Jory asked. "I thought she was an orphan."

"Could be anyone," Sara answered him from where she stood, combing through a wig hanging on the wall. "Philanthropist, politician. Who knows.

"Or," the intern hissed, leaning in even closer, "it could be one of them."

"One of who?"

"You know. Them. Thems what was with her, when all this went down."

"Like... like one of the actual...?"

"Don't you two have anything better to do than -"

"Wait. We're in Waterdeep," Jory breathed. He snatched up Nelsyn's script and started thumbing through it, fanning the pages and blowing a strand of hair across his nose. "Isn't... isn't the wizard...?"

Sara dropped her comb to her side and opened her mouth, but stopped and blinked at him instead. A thoughtful look crept across her face. She nodded her head in defeat.

"The wizard's from Waterdeep."

Then, as one, they all turned to look at Shayla where she stood at stage right, still as a statue.

And the music began to swell. The strings stirred the air with sounds as soft and sweet as sunset. The woodwinds sang a shrill crescendo as Erik began to make his famous climb.

And Nelsyn began to sing her famous song.

Before she disappeared beyond the narrow view from stage right, Jory watched her as she raised her arm to reach for him.

The wizard.

And her voice rang out so high and so clear, so heavy with every loss that Shayla Moonsong had ever suffered, with every plea that ever twisted her heart in bitter knots. With every word that ever fell from the mighty pen of their beloved playwright.

Who stood now with her hand at her throat. It bobbed once when she swallowed. Her lips parted and she drew a breath, and a hush fell over the crowd. She settled in to listen with the rest of them.

And her tail flicked once more to the left.

I know I've been unkind to you And I've pushed you way too far And I know in ignorance I forced you To reveal the man you are And I know I've left you with nothing to lose And even less to gain And though I know you owe me nothing Please don't give in to pain

Erik's silhouette was emblazoned across the long, velvet curtain hanging behind the hideously decorated staircase he was climbing. His movements were eery and real, despite their paltry attempts to pantomime a grisly memory that none of them had ever lived. Each step was measured and dreamlike and perfect, like a person caught in a trance or a dead man called home to his rest by a spectral light.

Or in this case, a massive papier mache facsimile of a netherbrain hung from a scaffold over the stage.

Please, Please don't do this I'm begging you not to go Please, Please don't do this There's something you need to know What can I do to make you wait Convince a goddess to change your fate Please tell me that it's not too late There's something I didn't say…

"It can't be him, though. Can it?" Jory asked. "Didn't he, like," he pointed a finger toward the stage, "explode?"

"Oh, no. It's just a story, mate," came a voice from behind them. It was Velanthyr, the elf who played Astarion. They rounded the table and perched themself on the corner, placing their white wig beside them as they took a bite from an apple. "She's embellished tons of stuff. For emotional impact. They all do it."

I should have loved you since I met you I should have loved you all along

"That bard she played? In the first act?"

"Yeah?"

"She ain't really dead either."

"Seriously?"

I should have told you that I love you Instead of hiding behind a song

"My cousin met her. Said he saw her play someplace they had dinner."

"No shit?"

"It's true. She teaches music in Baldur's Gate."

Is there nothing left that I can do But fall to my knees and pray

"So what's with her, anyway?" Velanthyr asked, pointing their apple at Shayla while they wiped the juice from their lips with their other hand.

The tip of her tail flicked again, and slowly she wrapped her arms around her middle.

To any god or any devil Who'd keep you from walking away

"She's been acting weird all night," they said.

"S'what we were just talking about."

Please, Please don't do this! Turn around! This isn't right!

"We think the wizard might be out there," the intern told them. "The real one."

"Oh no," the elf laughed.

Please, Please don't do this! Please, I'm begging you to fight!

"Hope he has a sense of humor. It's about to get weird!"

"Weird?!" Sara growled at them, flinging her comb about.

Forget your fickle god's desire I'd cross the oceans, I'd walk through fire I'd conquer all the Hells entire For you And yes, I know you're tired

"The man is getting ready to watch himself die! And I'm sure I don't need to remind you his death is self-inflicted! If there's a chance that any of this is real? That the trauma this man survived is on display? You all need to show a little respect." She shook her head and turned back to her wig. "Shut up and let her listen."

Sara's words may have stung him, but Jory knew she was right. So he obeyed her, and he listened. And for the first time he truly heard the fragile warble of desperate heartache that Nelsyn had worked so hard to craft through her voice.

Come back to me and take your rest Indulge one overdue caress I'll steal the sorrow from your chest And confess, I will confess

But he didn't just uncover a new appreciation for his friend and her level of skill. There was more to it than that. There was a depth to this scene that he'd been missing before now.

There was a meaning. One that wasn't meant for the whole world.

It was only meant for one man.

He could sense it in the vibrant tension bound between Shayla Moonsong's shoulder blades.

And then Nelsyn grew quiet. Everything got quiet. The music made a subtle shift to something low and dulcet, but tense, like a string pulled too tight without snapping. Jory found his feet had led him to stand at Shayla's shoulder. He could hear her breathing through her teeth and he felt compelled to reach out and take her hand.

She took hold of it like a lifeline.

You're everything to me and more You're all that I've been fighting for You're more than just an end to war…

Nelsyn paused after that last note. It was important to the narrative, it was the whole point behind the wizard's story. But her longing would go deliciously unrequited, and would inspire a veritable deluge of creativity from fandom communities everywhere.

Shayla squeezed Jory's hand, squeezed her eyelids firmly shut. She held her breath and Jory could see Erik had reached the top of the rise. There he stood, a straight, unyielding figure gazing off into the liminal distance, resolute.

And he would never turn around.

It wouldn't be long. Any moment.

Nelsyn sang her penultimate line.

And I would give my life for yours…

She held the word so long it nearly sank into Jory's skin. It sent a wave of goosebumps to crest over every inch of his body. The orchestra wove their way through their final, sweeping refrain, and the conductor brought them to a close on a plaintive harmony between a flute and an oboe.

And then the light collapsed.

It shrank to a small, pale circle that drew its stark and shining focus on a razor-slim shadow cast against the curtain.

In the shape of a dagger.

Erik lifted it high and turned its point toward his heart.

"Gods preserve me," Shayla mumbled to herself. It was the only sound Jory could hear aside from the sniffs and sniffles of the audience. Collectively they teetered at the edges of their seats, enthralled by a beautiful, mournful man who was counting the final seconds of his life with undaunted stoicism and courage.

Nelsyn could've whispered her final line if she wanted to, but instead it burst from her as a scream.

"Don't do this!!!"

Jory felt it thrum like a shockwave within his own chest, and beside him Shayla flinched. She squeezed his hand even harder.

"Just tell me when it's over," she said to him. And then suddenly there was a flurry of activity.

He took a step back and yanked her away from the door when a small flock of technicians flew in to crowd the space they left behind.

Up high, far in the corner, Jory saw the dagger move against the curtain. And all of the good people of Waterdeep gasped when they watched the blade meet its mark.

"Fire in the hole," a technician murmured beside him, and the spotlight on the curtain went black.

Then a pair of spells were cast that bathed the audience in a blinding aurora. It blazed with ribbons of vivid blues and purples and greens, speckled with myriad glittering white stars.

And an arrow of roaring thunder was launched far overhead. It detonated with such a resounding boom that it shook everything, even the floor boards beneath Jory's feet. It rattled seats and drinking vessels, it toppled music stands, and it made Erik's staircase sway alarmingly as it was wheeled backstage, with him still riding precariously at its top.

Shayla Moonsong's face fell into her hands.

"Go on," Erik sang as he danced his way down the stairs. "Tell me how devastating I was. Don't hold back. Tell me everything."

"You were spectacular, my love!" Velanthyr assured him as they ran to greet him, cradling his face in their hands and kissing him sweetly. "You always are."

"Were they weeping?" he asked his lover, nuzzling their face with his own. "The lights are so bright, I can never see."

"They were drowning in their tears, darling. Drowning."

"Is everything alright?" Sara asked as she approached on her tiptoes, reaching for Shayla's arm. Velanthyr's wig drooped at her side, forgotten. "What can I do?"

"I can't even look," Shayla whimpered through the palms that smothered her face.

"Oh honey," Sara cooed as she pulled the woman closer. And in a blessed act of mercy, she asked the question that no one wanted to ask, but someone needed to. Long before now, before this critical point had been breached.

"He's out there, isn't he?"

"I think I've made a huge mistake." Shayla slid her fingertips down to press against her lips, unable to form any other words. She could only shake her head, her eyes as wide as dinner plates.

"Do you want us to look? See if we can see him?"

"I don't think I wanna know."

"Where is he seated?"

"E6."

"Oh." Sara briefly grimaced at Jory, but didn't stop rubbing circles across Shayla's back. "Front and center. Of course."

"Yep." The way her lips popped at the end of the word only served to emphasize how mortified she was. "Wouldn't want him to miss anything."

"Well, of course not. He's your guest," Sara replied, jerking her chin in a way that suggested Jory had been volunteered for reconnaissance.

"Oh gods!" Shayla raked her claws past her horns to twist them into her hair. "I even told him he could invite his mother!"

"Well that's a perfectly reasonable thing to do, one would think."

Jory understood his assignment. He sauntered away but paused at the door frame. The show wasn't over yet. When the technicians finished collecting their gear, they scrambled off to safely stow their rockets and retrieve the set pieces for the final scenes. They were dragging the staircase away from the main thoroughfare when Corinne, the woman who played the narrator, whipped past them.

"Coming through," she chimed, racing out to center stage, taking her place before the curtains could rise once more. Her final soliloquy would lead them into the epilogue, and would give Jory the opportunity he needed to cast his eyes past the orchestra pit and across the section of seats that lie beyond.

Front and center.

He would only have a minute or two. Sara would need to replace Velanthyr's wig. Erik needed a drink and Nelsyn's makeup needed a touch up. Very soon they would be on stage, the lights burning holes through their retinas, leaving them blinded and oblivious to all but each other and the saga they would spin to its end. He reached up to buckle the clasp on the bear pelt that draped across his shoulders.

For now, it was the narrator's turn. But he was ready. And then the curtains rose.

He smashed his face against the door frame like a cat burglar. A shaft of light swung down upon the stage illuminating Corinne at its center, and Jory peered out into the darkness it left in its wake. He squinted until he found the end of the section behind the orchestra pit, and he started counting backwards from there.

But seat E6 was empty.

Certain he'd made a mistake, he counted back again to double check, to be extra sure.

But he was right the first time.

"It's empty," he muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

"What?" Shayla cried as she spun to face him.

"Yeah," he told her. "I counted twice to make sure I had the right seat, but no one's in it."

"Oh gods." She began to pace, wringing her hands. "What about the one next to it?"

"Which side?"

"Just tell me if you see an older woman."

"Umm, okay." At first he wasn't certain. There was a child on the right side, but on the left was a person who'd stood up, and was bent with their back toward him, like they were reaching for something. "I think... maybe. Yeah. I think so. It looks like she's getting up. She's picking up a bag or something. Is that a cat?"

"Tara?"

"Who brings a cat to a -"

"She's not a cat. She's a tressym."

"What the hell is a tress- holy shit, it's got wings! It just flew over - oh! Oh, I think I see him!"

"Where!"

The tressym sailed through the air to float beside a tall, slender man who was moving quickly up the aisle toward the exit. He wasn't running, out of proper respect for social decorum, but he had the energy of a man who wished he was. His shoulders were hitched up near his ears and he was stifling his mouth with the back of one hand.

And a shiver ran down Jory's spine.

This was the guy. The wizard. The real one.

Gale Dekarios, of Waterdeep.

In the flesh. Right there.

From what little Jory could see, the play had done him justice. He was a very handsome man, lithe and lean, long-legged with a powerful stride, and every bit as comely as Erik had depicted him to be.

Yet it was hard to imagine, through simple sight alone, that this was a man who had once been the Chosen of a god. Or that this was a man who had once vanquished the avatar of Death itself. A man who had put an end to the Cult of the Absolute.

A man who had once made his own decision about whether or not to plunge a dagger into his heart.

But it was easy to see why Shayla would want to stop him. This man clearly meant something to her.

He didn't know what providence deemed it necessary for him to ask. It certainly wasn't any of his business. But the question tumbled out of his mouth, unbidden. Perhaps the gods themselves just wanted to hear someone finally say it out loud.

"Does he know how you feel about him?"

Shayla slumped and let her hands fall limp to her sides. She pulled her lip into her mouth, and her eyes swam with visions of regret. "No," she whispered to him. "It was never the right time."

Oh, how irony could be so cruel.

"You should go after him, then," he told her. "Go quick. If you hurry, you can catch him before he gets to the front door."

"Shit!" she snarled and for a moment, Jory was afraid she'd scurry across the stage in the middle of Corinne's long and emotional speech. There was a wild streak in him that almost hoped she would. But instead, she bolted through the loading bay doors and flung herself outside, presumably to tear down the alley between the theater and the wine cellar to run around the building toward the front.

Nelsyn wandered over to them, sipping cold water from her mug and watching over her shoulder as the loading bay doors swung back and forth on their hinges.

"Jory," she stated flatly. "What did you do."

"What?!" he cried. Sara could only double over and laugh at him. "I didn't do anything!"

"Somebody did something," she said, eyeing the doors skeptically. "And it looks a lot like it was you."

"I'm serious! She asked if we could see him, and I told her yes. That's all."

"See who?"

"The wizard!"

"What wizard? You mean, like... Erik?"

"No!" He stuck out both hands and shook them. "The actual wizard! The real one, from Waterdeep! Yes, he's still alive! No, he didn't explode!"

"Well, everybody knows that..."

"She wanted to know where he was, so I told her, and then she ran out the door."

"Wait. So he was actually here tonight?"

"Jory," Sara accused him, still smiling pitifully at him as she crossed her arms over her chest. "That's not all you said to her."

"But I didn't -"

"You asked her a pretty personal question."

"Where was he sitting?" Nelsyn leered at him over the rim over her mug as she took another drink.

"E6."

"Wow. Front and center."

"Yeah. She didn't want him to miss anything."

"So what did you ask her?"

Jory could only roll his eyes and sigh. None of them had time for this. He dropped his head and pinched his brow between his thumb and his forefinger but when he looked up, he found all eyes were on him. Even Erik and Velanthyr had paused their conversation long enough to turn around and stare. The technicians in the back tried to appear as if they weren't listening, but everyone knew they were. Suddenly, he could feel the heat that was trapped beneath the heavy mantle of his bear pelt.

"I asked her if he knew how she felt about him."

"What do you mean, how she felt..." And through the window of her eyes he could see her mentally calculating every single word she'd just sung. Right in front of the very man it was all intended for. Seated front and center, missing nothing. Her eyes flickered like golden flames.

"Holy shit," she breathed. "Like... feelings? Real ones? What did she say?"

He didn't get to answer. Just then, raucous applause erupted from behind them. The thunderous retort of clapping hands and cheers drowned all other sound, and signaled to them all that their time was up. Corinne came skipping backstage as the curtains fell behind her.

"And that's a wrap for me! Slam and a dunk! Go get 'em while they're - what's going on?"

"The wizard was here tonight," Nelsyn answered her without breaking her eye contact with Jory. "The real one. Shayla is in love with him. What did she sayyy?"

"No," he told her, holding very still while Sara dabbed a powder puff over his face. "She said no. He doesn't know."

"Are you serious?" Corinne gasped, pressing a hand to her heart.

"Well he does now," Sara chuckled, wriggling her eyebrows as she dropped the powder back into her cosmetics case. "I hope she caught him before he got away. He deserves an explanation."

And all around them, activity buzzed. Scenic backdrops rolled by, the intern fussed with Velanthyr's wig on her tiptoes, Sara dug frantically around searching for her lip stain, and the other actors began lining up to take their places. But in spite of the jubilant bustle of life happening all around them, Nelsyn could only stand with her mug in her hands, awestruck by the revelation they'd just been given.

"Sweet tapdancing Asmodeus," she laughed, shaking her head with her eyes transfixed on some far away place. "You mean to tell me that this whole time," she jostled the water in her mug when she bellowed, "THIS WHOLE TIME?! This whole play has been just a great big love letter to some... man?! For months?! And he only just heard it? Tonight? For the first time?"

"I think that about sums it up, yep," Sara told her, taking the mug from her hands.

"That's genius!" She shuffled to her place in line, utterly befuddled, her eyes glassy and glazed. "They're star-crossed, it's perfect! I wish this would've happened months ago! Just you wait, you'll see. When all the little fan fic authors out there find out about this? They are gonna go berserk! People everywhere will pay money for a vial of our sweat! The contents of our chamber pots - we'll be famous!

"Gods have mercy on us all. There might even be a sequel. We'll be touring this show til the day we die!"

Chapter Two coming soon!

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 gale #gale bg3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale romance #galemance #tav x gale #oc x gale #gale x tav #gale x oc #bg3 fic #bg3 gale fic #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 gale fanfiction

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xxxcryptidxxx · 4 months

Note

Tanjiro Kamado agere? No pressure, love your writing!!

Of course! Thank you for the request ^^ I hope you like it!

Tanjiro AgeRe Headcanons

Tanjiro is a flip!

-Tanjiro's regression age is 0-3! He a lil guy!

-Tanjiro is a flip with no lean!

-Tanjiro's primary caregiver(s) are Zenitsu and formerly Kie Kamado! Shinobu is his pediatrician!

-Tanjiro rarely gets to regress due to the high demand of the Slayer Corps, Zenitsu went to Shinobu who then went to the master and asked for a day or two off for Tanjiro so he could regress for a little, the master was happy to oblige.

-Tanjiro is a very well behaved kiddo, a very clingy baby though, he's almost always clinging onto Zenitsu and/or Nezuko.

-Tanjiro is a padded kiddo, all the stress and the injuries sustained in all the fighting made his bladder weaken. Shinobu made some decorated Diaper pins for him so he wasn't as embarrassed.

-Inosuke is a surprisingly amazing babysitter! Tanjiro is always well taken care of and often a little a lot spoiled. Inosuke absolutely loves babysitting! He always offers if given the chance. Inosuke loves taking his little underling on supervised walks through the forset, Tanjiro and Inosuke will pick up anything they think looks cool/pretty—dw Inosuke won't let Tanjiro grab anything that could hurt him—and after the walk, they'll happily show off all the pretty things they found to Zenitsu, Nezuko, Shinobu, anyone who has the ability to be shown! Tanjiro will pick specific items with the intention to gift them to specific people!

-One time, Muzan found Tanjiro while he was little. Thankfully Muzan isn't heartless and lead the little guy back to were he came from, disappearing before he was even noticed. Muzan doesn't allow any demon to attack anyone when regressed or their caregiver(s). Even the King of Demons as standards!

-Tanjiro's pacifier is green and pink! He picked it because the pink was the same shade as Nezuko's kimono!

-Tanjiro has been babysat by every Hashira at least once, yes even Obanai and Sanemi. Tanjiro calls them his uncles and Aunties! (Yes Gyomei cried when lil Tanjiro first called him uncle Mei-Mei)

-Tanjiro has limited speech, often using nicknames or poor attempts at peoples names, he's really trying though! People just have hard names!

-Tanjiro has one stuffed fox he takes literally everywhere. It's a baby toy Tanjuro made him. Lil guy is a papa's boy. Tanjiro absolutely refuses to sleep alone. He can and will cry until he passes out if left alone. Zenitsu once had to leave for an emergency during one of Tanjiro's naps, the poor thing started crying when he woke up and his Papa was gone. Lil man thought Zenitsu didn't love him anymore! (I just made myself sad) Tanjiro got a ton of cuddles that night, Obanai even let Tanjiro play with Kaburamaru that night! (Obi is wrapped around Tanjiro's finger. All the Hashira are.)

-Tanjiro's primary littles are Muichirou and Senjuro!

-Tanjiro loves spoiling his kiddos! He has a sticker board set up for his littles. Each day they're good, they get a sticker, if they get seven stickers in a row, they get a new toy!

-Tanjiro is an amazing bedtime storyteller! He can make up stories on the spot, or he can add a unique flare to classics! Tanjiro's kiddos love bedtime for this reason!

#demon slayer #demon slayer agere #agere demon slayer #age regression demon slayer #demon slayer age regression #agere tanjiro #little tanjiro #caregiver tanjiro #flip tanjiro

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spooo00oky · 1 year

Text

Siren’s Spell

Chapter one.

Pairing: siren!Wooyoung x reader

Genre: fantasy, eventual smut, romance, fluff

Word Count: 11k+

Warnings: swearing, mentions of sex and sexual innuendos (MDNI), mentions of past near drowning, Thalassophobia, cliff hanger for chapter 1 and more to come!

Author’s Note: Hello! This is my first story posted on here and I’m still getting used to tumblr and it’s been years since I’ve written anything and I’m rusty, so please be nice! The world was inspired by Crescent City so there will be some similarities, and I lightly edited this so there’s going to be grammatical and spelling errors. I already have chapter 2 in the works. I hope you enjoy!

༄

“y/n where’s the order I asked for yesterday?” a voice suddenly asked, jolting me from my thoughts as I worked on the finishing touches of a design in my sketch pad. The line now scratched right across the folds of the dress would have to be fixed, but for now that was ignored in favor of glaring at my boss.

“Belle, I told you to knock. The order is sitting on your desk as per the text I sent you yesterday,” I sighed.

Mirabelle leaned away from the glass door of my office, looking to her own which was two doors down, her blue hair swaying with the movement. Her lips formed a perfect circle as the realization dawned on her that she had completely missed the neatly wrapped box on top of her desk that contained a new shipment from a catalog. “Thank you! Sorry for startling you!” she said before quickly disappearing.

I couldn’t help but chuckle as I went to correct the mistake on my design and continue on with my dress design. Belle was an eccentric fae, always fluttering around and mumbling to herself about whatever upcoming project. She was a great boss but needed help with remembering things, like things such as humans don’t have sensitive hearing and can’t hear most of the staff in the building long before they actually appear. That last part wasn’t entirely her fault though, I was only one in a handful of humans in the office building. It was hard to get accepted into places like this, even more so for humans in a supernatural creature dominated business.

Most humans in the city of Fairhaven stuck to their own sections of the city, where they were safest and not at the bottom of the food chain. Any further away from the human neighborhoods and it became more dangerous for us; not to say that they weren’t protected in the city by law enforcement but there were shady characters everywhere. It didn’t help that other supernatural creatures loved to view us as either toys to be played with or food. It had been a struggle to convince my parents that I would be fine away from home and in the heart of it all, the transition from a sleepy countryside town to a big city was draining enough for them.

I sigh and shut my sketch book. I note the time by the sun beginning to set. I packed my bag and grabbed my purse, heading out of my office. The sound of my door shutting didn’t disrupt the chattering of my other coworkers who were whispering around the coffee machine. “That’s the third one this week alone, do you think it’s a rogue vampire like it was the last time?” one of them whispered, to which the other replied that those were murders and the bodies were found; these were kidnappings.

“Ah there you are! Are you leaving already?” Belle suddenly appeared in front of me, nearly scaring me out of my skin and causing me to drop my things. I placed a hand on my chest in an attempt to calm my racing heart.

“Belle! We’ve talked about that!” I said in exasperation, not having the heart to even scowl at the already apologetic looking fae. She began to rock on her feet, her hands hidden behind her back in embarrassment. It was hard to stay upset with that warm, heart shaped face.

“She can’t hear you coming, remember?” a new voice said from behind me. I turned to see a blonde male come to stand next to me. He began teasingly patting my head at the drastic height difference between us. I narrowed my eyes at him and lightly knocked away his hand from my head, fixing my hair.

“The warning extends to you as well Mingi. There have been plenty of times you’ve scared me as well by sneaking up on me. Belle doesn’t do it intentionally at least,” I shot back at the lion shifter. “Plus she’s sweet so I can’t stay mad at her.”

Mingi rolled his eyes. “This is the thanks I get for getting you coffee every day? I don’t ask for payment or anything, and the coffee shop you like is really out of the way coming into work as well.”

“Mingi, you bought me coffee once like a month ago.”

“The coffee shop is right next to where you live as well. It takes you five extra steps to do it,” Belle pointed out, causing a burst of giggles to erupt from me at the look Mingi gave her. “And if my memory serves me correctly, she’s bought you lunch more times than you’ve bought her coffee.”

Mingi was quick to leave the conversation then, grumbling something about how Belle only has a good memory when it comes to pointing embarrassing things out. I wanted to tell him that it didn’t matter much to me if I treated more than he did, but he was gone before I could even get the words out. I didn’t dwell on it for long though. I’d talk to him when his wounded pride was healed up a bit. Turning back to Belle I wished her a goodnight and safe travel home before heading out myself, adjusting the strap of my bag on my shoulder as I made it down to the streets.

The streets were busy this time of day in Fairhaven. Workers returning home to their families and the nightlife only just began as people milled around, the air alive with music and voices. I headed closer to the small sidewalk near the river that cut straight through the city, they were usually less crowded now as everyone flocked to the riverside store fronts and restaurants for food and company. My eyes gazed out at the deep blue river only a few feet beneath me and my stomach dropped towards my feet. I gave the bank of it a healthy distance to ease some of my nerves, but the idea of falling into it was enough for unease to creep down my spine. My mind flashed back to frigid waters and gasping for air before I shook my head, shooing the memories away. Fairhaven wasn’t the small town I grew up in.

‘You’re right it’s much worse.’ I let out a small huff of air at that small voice in my head, but I couldn’t dispute its accuracy. Here in Fairhaven, the land met the river and eventually the sea along its northern border. The Brighbalt was deep and large and wound its way through the center of the city, and stretched far deeper than originally met the eye. It housed some of the most monstrous creatures in its depths, all citizens of the underwater kingdom, Socix, that merely migrated into the city borders from the sea. It was an unspoken rule to all that no one entered the waters unless on a boat; no one knew for sure what lurked down there. There have been some occasions in which I have looked out at the river and nearly jumped in fright to see eyes staring back at me.

The very thought of those black, dead eyes staring back at me was enough to make my body shudder.

Something flashing in the corner of my eye brought me out of my thoughts, and my eyes glanced over towards the river again. I would’ve missed him if I didn’t do a double take on a secluded dock hidden between some fishermans’ boats, the dark scales camouflaging him in the shadows but the pearlescent sheen caught the sun at the right moment. He was sprawled out on the small dock, nearly taking up most of it as he rested his head on his arms. I would’ve been concerned that he was dead if it wasn’t for the massive dark colored tail sitting half in the water and the patches of scales that littered the upper half of his body.

A siren, I thought to myself in shock. While they most certainly weren’t unheard of, seeing one this far in the city was almost rare. They preferred to stick closer to the ocean, where they were able to sing their songs with no repercussions and prey on humans and supernatural creatures alike. In the city there were laws to follow and repercussions if said laws were broken, and from what I understood most sirens didn’t like that as it controlled a core part of who they were; their voice.

This siren looked like it was only sunbathing, but it was my first time seeing one that it was hard to look away. It became a problem when I suddenly bumped into a gorgon, his snakes hissing at me in irritation as I struggled to regain my footing after the sudden stop. I apologized profusely, seeing the way he had to adjust his sunglasses before walking away. That wouldn’t have gone well for anyone had those slipped any lower on his face. I sighed and glanced towards the siren and nearly froze when I saw his dark eyes were open and on me now, a smirk curling his lips as he leaned his head on his hand to watch me. I flushed in embarrassment and hurried towards one of the numerous bridges that connected the two halves of the city, embarrassed that I had a witness to my blunder.

The rest of the trip to my apartment was, thankfully, uneventful, and I made sure to lock the door behind me before I headed further inside.

With a belly full of reheated leftovers and my skin clean from a shower I fell into bed with a sigh, hoping sleep came quickly tonight. My mind wandered back to the siren I saw earlier, that smirk he had on his face still running through my mind. Of course he had to be attractive too, but that was as common as humans breathing air. It was all part of the trap, as if their voice wasn’t lethal enough their good looks could draw in unsuspecting beings as well.

Sleep did come quickly, but it was filled with nothing but black scales and white, sharp teeth.

༄

The rest of the week went as it usually did, working every day and arriving back home at my usual time. With work being as hectic and chaotic as it usually was for a big designer label, partially thanks to my friends Mingi and San, it was enough to keep me busy and come home exhausted each day. The only thing that stood out as a new occurrence each day was the presence of the siren, much to my own shock. I had thought seeing him that night was going to be it and he would return back to his home in the sea, but he was near that dock at the start of my day and at the end of it. He wasn’t always sunbathing, other times he was floating on his back in the water or he was eating a fish on a nearby rock, but his reaction to seeing me was always the same. He would seemingly perk up and that same smirk from our first encounter with each other would appear, and his eyes didn’t leave me until I couldn’t see him anymore. If it wasn’t for buildings separating his line of sight from me I have a feeling he would only continue to stare.

It was hard to tell if he had genuine good intent with the looks he gave me or if he was planning on making a meal out of me in his head. I was hoping that he was only awkward and didn’t know how to approach a land dweller, so he was hoping a smile would come across as nice. But I’ve heard the stories. Anything was free game if one went deep enough into the water, and sirens had a taste for things other than fish. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve seen that headline flash across the screen on the news channel; a person went missing only to be found a few days later with a chunk missing from them. There was a reason there were strict laws in place when it came to the ocean dwellers and their powers.

A knock on my door brought me out of my thoughts, and I looked up to see San standing there with a bright grin on his face. “A special delivery for a Miss l/n,” he said and produced a large bouquet of flowers from behind his back. His barbed tail swished excitedly behind him as he handed me the bouquet.

My brows scrunched in confusion as I took it from him, looking to him for answers. The demon looked at me with anticipation and I gathered that he wasn’t the sender of these flowers, and he was waiting for me to look at the card attached and spill the tea. San was such a gossip and so nosey, but it was hard to say no to him. No he didn’t use his demonic powers to sway people to tell him their secrets, he just had really cute puppy eyes. It was a weakness to everyone in the office.

I took the card and opened it, quickly reading through the romantic poem written inside to see who sent them. “They’re from Logan,” I said simply, looking back up at San when he sucked in air. His eyes were practically sparkling with enthusiasm and his tail was wagging like a dog’s.

“Logan as in that forest nymph? The one with the red hair?” he asked excitedly, now sitting on the edge of my desk to lean closer. “He seemed nice when he stopped by last week to give you lunch,” he began before he noticed the less than enthused look on my face. “Unless you guys are fighting and these are apology flowers?”

“What? No no!” I said quickly, laughing as I shook my head. “We’re not even together so it’s not like we can fight like that. This is just another attempt to win me over is all. He’s being very persistent.” I still had the gaudy necklace he gifted me two weeks ago, the wrapping paper and the box it came in worth more than some things in my apartment. The piece he gave me was yellow gold and the emerald that sat in the center of the metal was nearly the size of my palm, weighing a lot more than I was expecting as well. It was fit for someone with expensive tastes, and I was not that kind of person. We’ve only been tentatively talking for two months at best, and a gift as grand as this was too much at such an early stage. Now it had a better use of being a paper weight on my desk at home.

San frowned and his tail drooped. His head lowered slightly as he pouted down at me, the fluorescent lights glinted off of his black horns. “That’s disappointing. I was hoping something would have become of this too, you guys seemed like such a good match!”

I rolled my eyes. “San you’ve seen us together like two times and each of those times lasted ten minutes cumulatively. He’s just being too forward and pushy with it all and it gives me a bad feeling, you know? Like who gives someone a gold and emerald necklace after knowing them for two months?” I was also almost always busy with work. With how busy the design label was even on a slow day the last thing on my mind was a relationship. Logan seemed to want to monopolize my attention and he was about to be disappointed that it wasn’t going to happen. “I think I’m going to try and gently tell him no when I see him next. He should find someone that’s actually willing to give him the attention he wants.”

San pouted more but nodded. “I hope that goes well for you, and you know where to find me if he takes it poorly,” he said before standing to his feet again. He began to head towards the door before he turned to face me again, a serious look on his face. “Don’t let work keep you from being happy romantically, y/n. If you need a couple of nights off to go flirt with people and try to take someone home, just tell Belle. I’m sure she’d give you all the time off you want because she knows how much you do here.” A devilish smirk suddenly appeared on his face. “If you need help in the sex department as well, you know you can come to me for help. I don’t shame people if it’s their first time.”

My face burned bright red and I sputtered. “San! I’m not a virgin! I don’t need sex advice!” I cried just as Mingi stepped in with a folder in his hand. He gave me a wide eyed look as I looked at him in mild horror, having obviously heard everything I just said, before he nodded and walked out of the room without delivering what he had obviously come to do. I groaned and let my head drop to my desk, San’s laugh bouncing off of the walls. I was praying the floor would just swallow me up right about now. “What have I done in a past life to deserve this?” I whined.

“Lots of good things to deserve this blessing,” San said with a smirk as he motioned to himself before he showed himself out of the room, the smugness radiating off of him as he disappeared.

I lifted my head from the desk and began to pack up my things, done being teased for the day. Mingi nor San wouldn’t be letting it go anytime soon, so it’d be best if I disappeared for the rest of the night and recover before the storm tomorrow. Knowing those two they’d get Belle in on it as well, and she’d be buzzing by my office every five minutes to tease me about it.

“Y/n!”

Speaking of Belle. I turned to face her with a tentative smile, nervous that the two idiots that are my friends already got to her. “Yes?”

“I was hoping to catch you before you left, I just wanted to say to be careful getting home,” she said, a concerned expression on her face. “There’s a report of another kidnapping happening in the area, and I worry about you.”

Ah, that’s right. Fairhaven was experiencing a random influx of missing persons, all random citizens with no connection to the other, and all were residents from different parts of the city. Unfortunately there have been no witnesses to these events, and authorities are at a loss on what could’ve happened to them. Some citizens are already pointing the finger at the sea dwellers, while others are more skeptical and say it’s a rogue creature. It wouldn’t be the first time something like this has happened, serial killers are a thing after all. Unfortunately the unknown depths of the river took most of the blame for anything mysterious that happened in the city, even though creatures such as vampires or shifters were capable of such things.

I gave Belle a small smile and nodded. “I’ll be careful I promise, thank you for your concern Belle,” I said with a wave before heading towards the doors and into the night.

The air made my clothes stick uncomfortably to my skin tonight, and I was dreading the walk home already. I sighed to myself as I headed down to the sidewalk, moving past the crowds of people towards the bank of the river. I found myself almost looking forward to seeing the siren tonight, his presence quickly becoming a part of my routine. Was it a little ridiculous that I was eager to see someone I hadn’t even spoken to? Maybe. I didn’t see the harm in it though, it wasn’t like I was doing anything drastic like suddenly marrying a stranger. I was just excited to see someone who was slowly becoming a constant sight is all.

I scanned the waters for any sight of that familiar head of dark hair, not spotting him at first. Has he already moved on and gone back home? I frowned a bit at the thought, but I didn’t get to dwell on it for long before the familiar mop of hair was breaking through the surface of the water. He ran a hand through his long hair as he waded in the blue waters, and I was so caught up in staring that I stumbled over a loose cobblestone. His head shot up at the noise and his eyes landed on me as I struggled to act like I hadn’t been staring at him, and that familiar smirk curled his lips. I smiled back at him as I continued to walk towards my apartment, and my heart nearly skipped a beat as I watched him swim closer to me. I paused in my walk as he opened his mouth, and there was a flash of his sharp teeth as he got closer.

“Little lady like you shouldn’t be walking alone at night,” a voice said and it was a moment later when I realized it wasn’t the siren speaking at all but the voice had come from behind me. Something flashed in the siren’s eyes before he ducked back under the water, quickly disappearing. To say I was a little disappointed was an understatement, but that thought fled my mind when I turned to see who had spoken to me.

“I can handle myself,” I grinned at the tall male behind me.

Logan smirked down at me, his green eyes shining in the setting sun as he reached to grab my hand. “I don’t know about that, it’d be better to have someone walk you home. Just to be safe.”

I made a show of fixing my hair due to a nonexistent breeze, trying to be subtle about not wanting him to hold my hand. If he saw through me he didn’t comment on it, instead he lowered his hand back down to his side. “Are you just coming from work? Did you get the flowers I sent you?”

I nodded. “I did, thank you for sending them. How did you know that roses were my favorite?” They really weren’t. Marigolds were my favorite, but I was trying to be nice at this point. Anything to soften the blow of telling him that I wasn’t interested anymore. Just the thought of doing this was making my hands clammy.

Logan grinned at the praise, his chest puffing out slightly. “Call it a special nymph power if you will. It’s kind of my job to know flowers and what people like, you know? Magic and everything.”

I felt slightly less bad for being mean.

“Well thank you again it really meant a lot. They’re sitting in a vase in my office actually.” They weren’t, I had accidentally knocked them off of my desk and into the garbage can while I was hiding in shame while San was teasing me. I wasn’t inclined to dig them out of there either, so in the trash they remained. I began to walk away from him, mumbling some excuse about needing to get home with a wave of my hand but was stopped as he grabbed it, keeping me in place. I swore I heard a deep rumbling sound but assumed it was a motorbike passing nearby.

“I want to take you out tomorrow night. It’s Saturday night, we’re young and deserve to have some fun, and I feel like I don’t see you enough anymore. You’re so cooped up in that office anymore, it’s driving me crazy,” he said and there was a strange edge to his voice that I didn’t quite understand but my gut was telling me to run. That could also be due to the fact that he could break my hand if he applied enough force right now. “I’ll pick you up from work and I’ll take you out on the best date of your life. Wear something pretty,” he said with a wink before he let go and walked away, disappearing into the crowd before I could even so much as begin to say no.

I groaned, running a hand through my hair in annoyance because now I was going to have to figure out a way to sneak out of work and away from him so I didn’t have to go on what would no doubt be the worst date of my life. Maybe I could call in a favor with San and Mingi?

I felt eyes boring into me and I glanced around to spot the source before they settled back on the water, nearly jumping seeing those dark eyes staring at me. The siren had popped his head out of the water and there was a dangerous glint in his eye, no sight of the friendly smile he had earlier. Already beyond flustered and annoyed with how this day was ending I was quick to leave the bridge, feeling the siren’s eyes on me until I disappeared around the corner of a building. The look in his eyes would follow me into dreamland tonight, and they had the same malevolent look to them as he watched me drown in my nightmares.

༄

I was dreading the morning today. It meant that it was Saturday, which meant Logan would be prowling around my office building when my day ended. I had already notified Belle of the situation and she was quick to respond by telling me to stay home today. I frowned at that option as well, because if he couldn’t find me at work there was no stopping him from trying to find me at my own apartment. I wanted to keep my apartment as a sanctuary for myself and myself only, I didn’t need Logan’s presence to interrupt the peace I had there. Plus he’d probably critique my interior design skills, claiming it needed his so-called “nymph magic” to make it more aesthetically pleasing.

Quickly coming up with a plan, I responded to Belle with what I had come up with before putting my phone away and getting ready for work. In my mind it was a win-win situation, I would still be able to go into work and get some things done and I would also be able to avoid Logan as well. All I had to do was miss him today and the next time I saw him I’d be able to tell him that it’d be best if we saw other people.

There was a pleasantly cool breeze today as I left my apartment building, and after the humidity of last night it left a small smile on my face. It was comical in the way that I kept glancing over my shoulder for any sign of the head of red hair, even though there was no threat of him until later on today. His presence was unsettling and irritating enough to put me on edge for the morning.

Crossing over the usual bridge I took, habitually I glanced out over the water to where the siren usually resided only to be further disappointed. There was no sign of him today, and I kept my eyes in the waves in case he made a sudden appearance like yesterday. There was no sight of him and a frown pulled at my lips when I entered the office building. Maybe it was the look he had on his face yesterday when I walked away from the river that left a sour taste in my mouth at not seeing him this morning, or maybe it was the fact that subconsciously he had become part of my daily routine. Whatever the case may be, the lack of him had definitely affected my mood and it showed.

“Belle filled San in on what's going to happen today, but San won’t tell me about it because I apparently give things away too easily. Would you be so kind as to explain what the plan is so I’m not walking in blind?” Mingi asked, walking beside me to my office. I half heartedly chuckled at his wounded expression, it wasn’t his fault that he didn’t have a good poker face. Mingi was just too honest of a person to hide things well.

“Logan said he was going to pick me up from work today and that he was going to take me out on a date. He didn’t even give me an opportunity to say no and to break things off with him before he left, and I really don’t want to go on this date. So, I have things to get done still but I’m going to be leaving early so there’s no chance of our paths crossing. San is going to distract him and tell him I left early because I wasn’t feeling well, while I sneak out the back and head to somewhere that isn’t my apartment. Your job today is to be a concerned friend because your best friend is sick,” I explained to him, setting my back down on my desk.

Mingi raised a brow as he watched me get settled. “That’s barely a job though, I can do more than that! At least let me be a look out in case he comes in earlier, my office is near the entrance,” he pouted. He was attempting to replicate San’s puppy dog eyes but unfortunately it didn’t quite meet the standard. His presence brightened my mood a bit already though, so I decided to humor him.

“Fine you can be a look out. I doubt he’d come any earlier than when I get off though, he knows Belle wouldn’t let me get off any earlier than what I was scheduled unless it was an emergency.” A total lie. Belle would let me take a month off right now just because I wanted to, but she took on the role of a harsh boss if it meant I could have even a bit of peace in knowing Logan wouldn’t come around during working hours and disturb me. She took great care in that role as well, her usual bright demeanor clouded over by an angry expression and her tone turning harsh and snappish towards those she was close to. It never ceased to amuse San and he struggled to keep his composure when Belle would snap at him about him leaving a coffee cup out and it had spilled all over a magazine she had been reading or whatever else she could come up with.

Mingi’s expression brightened at his now upgraded role in the plan today, and he hurried out of my office and towards his own, leaving me to my own thoughts. I suddenly missed his presence as I began to get to work creating a rough draft for a new dress design, pulling out my fabric and pins to begin the process. He was a great distraction that I didn’t realize I was wanting as I began to work, my mind focused on anything else but the task at hand. I was sluggish from the lack of sleep last night due to recurring nightmares, and my thoughts were centered around iridescent black scales and dark eyes that had bored holes into me even in my dreams. Why had he looked almost furious after I had spoken with Logan? Maybe forest nymphs and sirens had a long history that I wasn’t aware of and his presence had irritated him being so close to his home turf?

I shook my head in an attempt to clear the thoughts away. It was dumb to be this concerned over a person I had never even spoken to. He was a stranger that I saw everyday, nothing more. There had been no contact between us other than glances thrown at each other, so why was it that one morning I didn't see him and it’s enough to dampen my mood? Maybe I should find a different route home from now on so I could distance myself from his usual spot.

The morning dragged on, time crawling ever so slowly as I struggled to stay focused on work. It wasn’t until the rough outline of a dress was pinned to the mannequin that my phone began to buzz excessively, and I dropped everything to grab it. Ten different text messages flashed on my screen, all from Mingi, and my stomach dropped when I read them. Logan had come early with yet another bouquet of roses, asking to speak to Belle about letting me off early today so that he and I could go out for a lunch date. Mingi texted me that he had already sent San out to deliver the news that I had been sent home sick, and that he’d cover for me to sneak out the back door.

I quickly thanked him before I packed up my things, not even bothering to put away the skeleton of a dress before I was walking down the hall to the stairwell. I wouldn’t take a chance on the elevator today because the door to it was right next to the front entrance, and about halfway down the steps I was cursing myself for wearing heels today. If things kept going like this I’d have to make it a point to keep a spare set of sneakers in my office to make a speedy and comfy escape.

Thankfully the building was busy this morning so remaining hidden from Logan’s eyes was easy. Most everyone was taller than me so ducking behind groups of people milling about made my escape quicker, and soon enough I was making my way down the road and away from the office. I wasn’t planning on going home in case he decided to try and show up there, so I headed in a different direction than what I usually took. Instead today I headed towards the busier sections of the city, getting lost in the crowds of people that were out and about. Nymphs have better senses than humans, but my scent would easily get lost in a crowd this large for a nymph. If Logan had been a shifter of any predator variant then it would be a different story and I would’ve had to have been more illusive with my escape.

I trailed along one of the busier streets of Fairhaven, vendors and small riverside restaurants dotted alongside the road. The air was filled with the voices of people wandering around and bartering or ordering their meals, and it was easy to get swept up in it all and just aimlessly wander around as well. I window shopped as I walked, admiring the latest fashion trends and some apothecary shops selling crystals and potions, passing groups of children gazing at a toy shop that had mechanical dragons flying around inside. If I had grown up in the city I would’ve been right there with them, the shop was magical even by adult standards. What I wouldn’t give to see it through the eyes of a child as well.

My head whipped up when I saw red hair out of the corner of my eye and I didn’t even think twice before I was ducking into the nearest building which happened to be a cafe. I got a few looks from the patrons at my rushed entrance into the building but they all went back to their coffee cups with no comment as I made my way to a table hidden behind some plants. I took a seat and kept glancing towards the door, tense as I waited to see that familiar face pass by the glass. It very well could’ve been someone else, but I wasn’t willing to take any chances when it had been going so smoothly thus far. It was possible he had decided to take the same route I had by random chance.

I vaguely realized I looked like I was being chased with the way I kept glancing towards the door, and I was only drawing attention to myself. I pulled out my phone and began to aimlessly scroll through my social media, anything to try and blend seamlessly into the background of the cafe. I’d have to make a point of buying something soon so I wouldn’t get kicked out for loitering, that would be counterproductive to what I was trying to do right now.

The bell above the door chimed and I shrunk further into the shadows of the plant, not even bothering to look up in an attempt to hide my face from whoever had just walked in. Anyone with sensitive hearing would’ve been able to pick up on the way my heart seemed to thump loudly in my chest as my body tensed, seeing the newcomer walking past my table slowly out of the corner of my eye. The conversation seemed to die down momentarily as they passed before resuming at normal volume, and it only made my heart race. Was Logan’s presence enough to cause such a reaction? He was good looking, yes, but nothing worthy of quieting a room full of people. Who exactly had walked in then?

I had been so absorbed in trying to figure out if a celebrity had walked in from the conversations around me and trying to disappear entirely that I missed the deep voice that ordered at the counter and the steps that were rounding back to me until it was almost too late. I shrunk inwards on myself as the steps neared and I didn’t dare to look up until a cup of coffee and a plate of scones was placed in front of me. Confusion swept through me and I ignored every instinct telling me to keep looking at my phone in favor of looking up who had stopped at my table, and when I say I looked “up” I mean it.

He stood at about seven feet tall and I had the startling realization that with how tall he was with legs he had ultimately shrunk from the even bigger size he was with his tail. He seemed pleased by the shocked expression on my face, because there was humor dancing in the deep brown coloring of his eyes as he smirked down at me. Those teeth looked even sharper up close, and my heart skipped a beat in my chest at the sight. He obviously heard it because his smirk grew into a downright devious grin. It wasn’t entirely my fault though, I’d never thought I’d see a siren walking around on land is all. “You look like you could use something to brighten your day, so here,” he said, his voice deep and smooth and I felt myself being subconsciously drawn to it. I quickly regained control of my actions though, scolding myself for being swayed by his powers.

My mind had quickly become scrambled from the sudden appearance of the siren, let alone on legs, and I blinked before finally being able to form a coherent thought. “Oh, thank you…”

“You can call me Wooyoung. It’s about time you got to know what you’ll be moaning later,” he said with a wink and it was a knee jerk reaction to roll my eyes. If I had a dollar for every time I heard that line I’d have enough money to never work a day in my life again. My reaction only seemed to amuse him more as his laugh bounced off the walls of the cafe, the sound infectious. By now the other patrons had turned to watch our interaction, and a quick glance around confirmed that all eyes were on us. In my attempt to disappear I had become the center of attention.

Wooyoung seemed to notice as well, but it didn’t seem to bother him as he winked at me again. “I’ll be seeing you around…” it was his turn to trail off, his gaze expectant as he watched me.

“Y/n,” I introduced myself, reaching a hand forward for the cup of coffee. I didn’t make a move to drink from it yet, though, wanting to see what his next action would be. Also I didn’t want to make a fool of myself if I choked.

“Y/n,” he said the name softly, his smile growing as he tasted the word on his tongue. He nodded to himself before beginning to walk away from the table, sending one more look my way over his shoulder before he disappeared in the crowd of people, sipping his own coffee as he left.

I only turned to the coffee and food on my table when I was sure he was gone for good, taking a tentative sip of the beverage and humming happily. For just guessing he had gotten pretty close to what I would prefer, the sweet taste coating my tongue. The scones were also delicious, but that I already knew from previous times of stopping here for a pick me up. He had been right after all, I did need something to brighten my mood.

༄

Thankfully the rest of the week went by Logan free, and he seemed to buy the excuse of me being sick and didn’t question it much. I did have to put my foot down when he offered to come and feed me his homemade soup though, claiming that his nymph magic would heal me right up. I may be human but I wasn’t stupid, I knew nymphs of any kind didn’t possess healing magic. I was starting to grow concerned that “nymph magic” was a euphemism for something else, and it was all the more reason to keep him away from me.

Belle suggested I take a day off of work to play up the pretenses that I really was sick, and I took her up on the offer. If he had the nerve to try and take me away from my job in the middle of the day I wouldn’t put it past him to try and see me in the middle of it again. I think she was also using it as an excuse to give me a day off, she’s been pestering me about it for weeks now. She tries so hard to be more accommodating to her human employees, knowing that we can’t work as much as the others because our bodies need rest. My pride wouldn’t let me take a random day off in the middle of the week, so we often butted heads on my work schedule. She won this time though, but I’m using Logan as a legitimate excuse to miss one day.

Once that day was over though it was work as usual, the office was busier than usual with the upcoming fashion show in only a few weeks. My excuse of work being super busy to keep me from seeing Logan was a partial truth now, my schedule was packed with meetings and finishing touches on designs. I preferred this though, it kept me busy and kept things interesting. Mingi’s usually well kept long blonde hair looked a little messy each day he came in, like he had just rolled out of bed and barely made it on time, and San had the faintest of shadows beneath his eyes from the long hours. It was during times like this that morale was low and Belle usually stepped in with buying us all lunch to encourage us to keep working hard, despite the bags under her own eyes as well.

Another daily ritual that has begun this week were the gifts from Wooyoung. At first I didn’t think much of it, I had spotted a shiny rock on the sidewalk on my way to work and I had picked it up and brought it home. The second day was different because in the exact same spot were a handful of more rocks, all of varying size and color and all were shiny. It looked like someone had taken the time to hand pick these and set them here, and I had looked around in case a child had set them here for a reason. As I was looking I nearly jumped out of my skin when my eyes met those of Wooyoung who was right at the edge of the river, much closer than I was expecting and making absolutely no sound as he appeared. Had it been a less kinder creature I wouldn’t have even realized that death was looking me in the face until it was too late.

Wooyoung only stared at me, half of his head poking out of the water as he watched me with curiosity. I made no move to grab the stones, holding my hand awkwardly above them as I waited for any word if they were his or not. He was looking at me like they were, and I think dying from touching a siren’s special rock was a really embarrassing way to go, so I had frozen up in the act of reaching for them. We had stayed like that for a few minutes before his eyes flicked to the stones and back up to me, a small nod accompanying the movement.

I got the message and I picked up the stones, smiling at him as I held them up for closer inspection. “Thank you, they’re really pretty,” I told him, putting the rocks in my pocket. His eyes crinkled at the corners and even though I couldn’t see it I knew he was smiling, and the tips of his ears turned red as well. Was he the bashful type? He certainly didn’t seem like it when we had spoken on Saturday, he seemed to be very confident in himself then. “You seem to like to wear this color,” he said, raising out of the water slightly and pointing to a blue stone in my hand before motioning to my ears. I realized he was talking about my earrings. Before I could ask anymore questions he dipped beneath the water and didn’t resurface, and I was left staring at my rippling reflection.

After that the gifts were still left in the same spot accompanied by Wooyoung’s lingering gazes. It remained as pretty rocks and crystals before they slowly transitioned to pearls and even some small gemstones, and I would be concerned he was robbing banks if I didn’t already know there were hundreds of shipwrecks in the waters of Fairhaven. With each grander gift he seemed to grow more confident in himself, winks and compliments often accompanied the stones and gems. “This gem reminds me of your eyes,” was a common one he liked to say, and the usual grin he had grew each time I blushed. Most of the time the gifts were colors that he seemingly picked up on that I gravitate more towards, and others were colors he thought would compliment me. I wasn’t sure if this was just a Wooyoung thing or customary for those who lived below the surface, but it felt wrong to receive so many gifts and not return the favor.

The morning I surprised Wooyoung with a cup of coffee was the day I was sure there were stars in his eyes. I had finally braved getting closer to the water than ever before, walking to the edge of the water and kneeling there. He had arrived a few minutes later, looking like he was in a rush before he deposited a handful of pearls and gems before me. He gave me a sheepish look as I picked them up, seeing that some of the pearls this time were slightly distorted and bumpy; different from the near perfect pearls he would usually bring.

“These were the only ones I could find in time, I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I can take them back if you don’t want them, I’ll find you better ones.”

I closed my hand around them and put them in my pocket, already planning on adding them to the box I set aside just for these gifts. “I love them,” I told him honestly, smiling to try and reassure him. That worried look on his face melted away before being replaced by a warm smile.

I suddenly remembered that I had a gift as well before I held out the cup of coffee, giving him my own sheepish smile. “I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I just guessed,” I explained as I waited for his reaction. I knew he drank coffee at least, if he had a sweet or bitter preference was beyond me though so I settled for the bitter. I had mentally cursed myself for not paying attention to his order when I was in line that morning.

Wooyoung’s entire expression lit up like a child on the Winter Solstice, and he quickly propelled himself out of the water and settled himself down on the ledge before taking it from me. He took a sip and hummed happily, his tail swaying in the water as he looked at me like I had hung the stars and moon in the sky, and I took his reaction as if he liked it. “Thank you so much,” he said, a genuine smile spreading across his lips as he gazed at me with a mixture of awe and something else I couldn’t quite place.

I nodded and kneeled beside him, not even making a move to dangle my feet in the water. “Thank you for the gifts you’ve given me. It’s not much but I hope you like it,” I told him, feeling guilty for how mundane and simple my gift seemed to be in comparison to the actual gems he’s given me. I didn’t want to come off as rude if it was customary to give back a gift if you receive one in his culture, so it was better than nothing. I’d find a way to make it up to him somehow at a different time, but for now the coffee will suffice.

“It means a lot to me,” he said before going back to sipping it, watching me closely.

I suddenly felt exposed under his gaze and I had to look away, anywhere but at his eyes that looked like they were waiting for something else from me. My eyes settled on his tail then, the black scales shining in the morning light as I focused on that instead. My guess is that while in this form he reached around thirteen feet from the top of his head to the tip of his tail, and I nearly blanched at this revelation. Was everything in the water big?

“Your tail is pretty,” I said simply, and had to resist cringing at how lame that sounded. Was it socially acceptable to even say something like that to a siren? I wasn’t sure, in fact, I don’t think anyone really was. Socix was very secretive and withdrawn from everything up top, and gave away very little about their own laws and customs that would be very helpful for situations like this. To be fair, these interactions were rare.

Wooyoung laughed, the sound loud and infectious as he smiled at me. He scooted himself closer to me, swinging his lower half closer in the same movement before he wiggled his brows in my direction. “You can touch it if you want,” he said, truthfully looking like he was talking about something else and not his tail. I decided to believe that he had good intentions and not it was an innuendo and tentatively reached out, my fingertips grazing the smooth scales. It was softer than it looked, and I was quickly mesmerized by just how many colors were hidden in the shine of them. There were even small dots speckled around them, lighter in comparison to the rest of his body.

“You’d be able to see it better if you came into the water with me,” he said suggestively and I was quick to shake my head. He raised a brow at that, reaching out and taking my hand in his. He was noticeably cooler to the touch than I was, but I didn’t pull away. “There’s more tricks that you won’t see up here.”

“I’ll stay up here, actually. I’m afraid of water,” I explained, my cheeks burning in embarrassment.

Wooyoung’s eyes widened comically and then he was cackling, dropping my hand in the process as he nearly toppled over from the force of his laughter. His tail moved and I grimaced as my pant leg was now soaked, thankful that Belle wasn’t a stickler for dress code.

“Well isn’t that ironic,” he said once his laughter had subsided, looking at me with mirth shining in his eyes.

I chuckled and nodded in agreement. “Yeah I guess so.” A girl who’s least favorite thing to do is be around water moves to a city where one of the main focuses is the water? I could see the irony in it, but I had little choice in the matter. It was either this or stay in the small town I grew up in where nothing happened. I was fine with being this close to it before I had met Wooyoung.

“That’ll have to change if this is to continue,” he said before finishing the last of his coffee, neatly tossing the garbage into a nearby trash bin. I was only mildly impressed by his aim and precision. He hopped off the ledge and sank beneath the surface only slightly, his tail propelling him upwards so his head remained above the surface so that he could still speak to me. “I’ll let you be on your way to work though. I’ll see you tonight, be safe please,” he said with a smile before he was gone.

That had been two days ago, and like clockwork I saw Wooyoung each morning before work and on my way home. Each morning he would give me a gift of gems and pearls and I would try to give back when I could, some mornings being just coffee and other mornings being coffee and a pastry from the cafe. He was delighted by each one, propelling himself out of the water to sit on the ledge next to me and talk before I would have to head into work. Most of the time they were really basic questions, such as what was my favorite food or what my favorite color was. Other questions were along the lines of “if you’re afraid of water then how do you bathe?” to which I lightly slapped his shoulder in response to.

Today was no different, I sat by Wooyoung on the side of the river and chatted away with him before he was lowering himself back into the water. He reached out and grabbed my hand, stopping me before I could get to my feet again. He smirked up at me but I was immune to it by now. I figured out a while ago that Wooyoung was a flirt by nature. “I want to show you something tonight, so now you have an excuse to see me when you leave work,” he told me.

I rolled my eyes. “Like I wouldn’t be stopping by anyway.” I gently pulled my hand away from him and stood up from my spot, smiling down at him. “I’ll stop by here I promise,” I said with a final wave before I began to head towards the building, a small smile pulling at my lips as I entered.

The sound of rustling paper reached my ears before a familiar presence reached my side, and I greeted Mingi cheerily.

“Oh someone’s in a good mood today,” he said with a smirk and I had to resist the urge to roll my eyes as I walked to my office. “What happened to put you in such a good mood today? Someone buy your coffee at the shop?”

“Can’t I just be in a good mood? Maybe I caught up on sleep finally and I woke up feeling well rested.”

“Mmm nope, that smile says that you met someone. I’ve seen it many times before. So who’s the lucky guy? Or did Logan finally manage to pull his head out of his ass and you’re finally coming around to him?”

I nearly jumped into Mingi at San’s sudden entrance. He at least had the decency to look guilty for startling me so suddenly, but I huffed in annoyance before entering my office. I was one jump scare away from putting bells on everyone.

The boys made themselves comfortable in the chairs around the room, making it apparent that they weren’t going to drop the subject. That was fine, I was great at ignoring outside distractions and focusing solely on my work. I silently answered in the way of settling in and dragging the mannequin towards me, obviously about to start working on it. San narrowed his eyes before sighing and crossing his arms over his chest, his tail flicking in irritation. “You know we can smell him on you, right? There’s no sense in hiding that you met someone else in front of two creatures that can pick up on the distinct smell that isn’t yours.”

I sighed, sinking low into my seat. Of course I had to be friends with beings who could smell a male on me, and probably knew that he wasn’t of the human variety. The males before me were stubborn as well and I knew they wouldn’t let it go until I spilled the beans, especially San. He was the worst when it came to subjects like this, and it was worse with those he cared about. He wanted to know every detail of my love life and I swear he was more invested in it than I was. “It’s not like that I’ve only known him for like two weeks.”

“Details details, who is it? He smells like seaweed, so did you jump from a forest nymph to a river nymph? Or maybe a shifter? I can’t think of any shifter that I know that can live in water,” Mingi stated, already beginning to ramble a bit. He didn’t show it but he was just as invested as San was in my love life.

“He’s a siren,” I whispered and I swear you could hear a pin drop with how quiet it got in the room. Mingi visibly paled and San’s eyes got so wide it looked like they’d fall out. They didn’t say anything and neither did I, beginning to play with a piece of skin on my thumb as I waited for them to collect themselves. I knew they wouldn’t react the best to the news of Wooyoung’s presence in my life, but no one really did when it came to matters concerning what happened below the river. If Wooyoung was aiming to kill me he had plenty of opportunities to do so, so I don’t think he was a threat to me. If he was a threat to others was a different matter.

“How in the seven rings of Hell did you meet a siren in the city?” San asked, looking like he still hasn’t fully processed what I had just told them.

“He was laying on a dock and it just kind of happened from there,” I said with a shrug.

“Do you make a habit of talking to random half naked men on docks then?” Mingi asked which earned him a smack on the back of the head from San. “What? I know they’re not big on clothes down there!”

I groaned and flopped backwards in my chair. “No I don’t talk to half naked men on docks! Look there’s a lot more that happened and it’s not like that. Wooyoung is only a friend I just happened to make, nothing more, alright?“

San gave me a concerned look before he eventually sighed, giving up on the matter. He stood from his seat and pet my head, concern for my well-being in his eyes, no judgment at all. “We just worry about you, y/n. A siren suddenly appearing in the middle of the city when these kidnappings are suddenly sprouting up is concerning. We don’t want anything to happen to you.”

I huffed. “There’s more than just sirens in those waters, you all know that, and there’s no proof that those missing people are due to things in the water. If Wooyoung truly meant me harm he had plenty of opportunities already but the only male that’s been a burden to me was Logan. I’ll be fine, I promise,” I told him, holding his gaze.

The mention of the fact that Wooyoung has done nothing to harm me yet seemed to lessen the tension in both of their shoulders, and San nodded before patting my head one more time before leaving the room. “Time to actually do work Mingi, no more gossiping!”

Mingi groaned before following him out, giving me one last smile over his shoulder before he disappeared around the corner. I relaxed in my chair once they were gone, letting out a long breath. Their worries were valid, there wasn’t much knowledge about the citizens of Socix and their customs and culture, only the laws that kept everyone safe in both parties. Wooyoung’s arrival to the city was just poorly timed with these disappearances, that was all. He was just a resident like anyone else here.

Finishing up the dress didn’t do much to take my mind off of things, but it did make the time go by faster. Happy with the final touches, I sent the dress off to be approved by Belle and be fitted for a model before packing up my things and heading out of the building. I waved to Mingi on my way out, and he waved back enthusiastically. It seems like our conversation earlier didn’t bother him much, and it was a relief to see that as I left the building.

My first stop was Wooyoung’s spot, but upon arriving I didn’t see him. I frowned and knelt where I had this morning, checking my phone to see the time. I wasn’t early or late by any means and he was usually already waiting here for me, so to not see that cheeky smile waiting for me was disheartening. I decided to wait here for a little longer in case he was running late.

Now that I think about it, did Wooyoung have a job? Were jobs even a requirement to live in Socix or was everyone able to live without needing a nine to five there? It was just now dawning on me that I didn’t know much about Wooyoung and what he does when I was at work. I only know that he shows up in the morning and at night as I’m heading home. I know some of the time is used in searching for the he’s been giving me, that much is obvious, but what about the rest?

I checked the time again and sighed, rising to my feet and starting to head to the bridge. I realized that a part of me had been excited to see what he wanted to show me, even if I ran the risk of having to go into the water. I had been curious and subconsciously looking forward to it, or more likely it was just him. I had been looking forward to seeing him again tonight as I did most nights now, his presence warm and inviting and it was hard not to fall for his charm.

I didn’t even realize I was halfway across the bridge as a voice shouted for me. I turned to look and my stomach dropped to my feet when I saw a face I had been avoiding like the plague for a week now running towards me. I had half a thought to bolt in the opposite direction, but nymphs were faster than humans and I didn’t even have that cover of a crowd to hide in; the bridge was empty right now. Plus it was time I put a stop to this finally, no more playing this game of hide and seek and no more looking over my shoulder as I was walking around. It also wasn’t fair to him that I didn’t have the courage to voice my feelings, he didn’t do anything wrong besides having a not so pleasant personality. He deserved to go find someone that could tolerate him.

“Hey Logan,” I greeted, moving off to the side in case of anyone wanting to pass by us. I glanced down at the water and felt my stomach lurch, and I turned back to the nymph before I could start to panic.

“How are you feeling now? Better I hope, you were looking pretty haggard the last time I saw you before our date. We still have to reschedule that by the way,” he said, flashing me a smile.

I felt my brow twitch in annoyance considering the last time I saw him in person I wasn’t even sick. Was he really that self absorbed to even notice that my appearance had never changed? Or was he that concerned with getting in my pants? I was choosing the latter with the way his eyes flicked over my body, a movement I would’ve missed if I had blinked.

I plastered a fake smile on my face, hoping it was convincing enough for him. “Actually, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that date.”

Suddenly there was a loud splash that rang out, making both of us turn towards the sound just in time to see Wooyoung arching perfectly over the side of the bridge and straight towards me. His eyes glowed with fury and his teeth bared in a snarl as he reached out for me and panic surged through me at the sudden realization that this was it for me. I only had time to gasp before his arms wrapped around me, securing me to his chest and we were diving into the water on the other side of the bridge.

The water was colder that I was anticipating, and I sucked in water on impact. My lungs burned as water filled them and my heart thundered in my chest as I struggled in Wooyoung’s grip. He held on tightly though, his grip strong as he dragged me deeper and deeper until I couldn’t see the sun anymore. Dark spots were beginning to cloud my vision, my lungs feeling like they were about to burst and my struggles began to weaken before stopping all together. I went limp in his arms, too weak to struggle as he drowned me. At least he was giving me that courtesy before he ate me.

His laughter was one of the last things I heard before I slipped into unconsciousness, the sound bringing me back enough to hear his last words to me.

“You’re not supposed to breathe in water, dummy.”

༄

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