#lisa sears

[doctorkinktraveller]

Sixth Doctor's companions..

Peri [ Nicola Bryant ]

Melanie Bush [ Bonnie Langford ]

Matthew Sharp [ George Sear ]

Evelyn Smythe [ Maggie Stables ]

Philippa Ramon "Flip" Jackson [ Lisa Greenwood ]

Mrs Constance Clarke [ Miranda Raison ]

[gatutor]

Lisa Ferraday "Último tren de Bombay" (Last train from Bombay) 1952, de Fred F. Sears.

[lesetoilesfous]

Tumblr I am so serious you need to go see Lisa Frankenstein before it's out of theatres. The sheer feminist monstrous horror of it all. The trauma metaphors. The searing critique of middle class white feminism. The axe murder. YOU NEED TO GO AND SEE THIS FUCKING FILM RIGHT NOW.

[bitchiswild]

Office Seduction

GP Lisa x F! Reader Word Count: 1.8k Warnings: Smut 🫶 A/n: Lisa is so fine🤤 REQUESTED

@lilacura FOR YOUUUUUUUUU BABYYY😝❤️

"Hmm, that's it, baby," Lisa moaned, her fingers entwined in your hair as you pleasured her. Her gaze, filled with desire and appreciation, met yours as you sucked eagerly on her cock.

"Your mouth feels amazing, baby. You're such a good girl for helping me relieve this stress," Lisa groaned, her head tilting back against the plush office chair. The weight of her responsibilities seemed to melt away as you skillfully attended to her needs.

Your wife, Lisa, had summoned you to her office building in a moment of desperation, seeking solace from the overwhelming pressure of her day. Without hesitation, you abandoned your own tasks and rushed to her side, eager to provide the comfort and release she craved.

As Lisa's arousal grew, her words became more breathless and unrestrained. "Mmm, yeah, that's it," she moaned, her grip on your hair tightening as you continued your eager ministrations. Saliva mixed with precum dripped down your chin as you hungrily devoured her, the wet sounds of your movements echoing in the office.

"God, your mouth is so sloppy, so good baby," Lisa gasped, her body trembling with pleasure. Her office chair creaked under the force of her shifting weight as she sought to get even closer to you. With each thrust of her hips, she pushed deeper into your mouth, reveling in the messy, uninhibited sensation.

You could feel yourself becoming lost in the moment, consumed by the intoxicating blend of desire and filth. Lisa's moans grew louder, punctuated by the occasional whimper of ecstasy as she reached the brink of release. In this private sanctuary of lust and abandon, you were both free to indulge in the raw, unbridled passion that connected

"God, I'm gonna cum," she gasped, her voice trembling with anticipation. With one final thrust, she released herself into your mouth, her moans echoing off the walls of the office.

As Lisa pulled out of your mouth, you looked up at her with a mischievous glint in your eyes, your tongue adorned with her seed. With a wicked grin, you swallowed her cum, savoring the taste and watching as a shiver of pleasure ran through her body.

"Fuck, baby, you're so dirty," Lisa groaned, her desire evident in the huskiness of her voice. Unable to resist any longer, she pulled you into a passionate kiss, tasting herself on your lips.

Lisa's hands roamed over your body, she guided you to sit on her desk, her touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake, each piece of clothing removed, Lisa's breath grew heavier, her voice husky with desire. "God, you look so hot like this," she murmured, her hands trailing along the contours of your body. "I've been craving you all day, baby."

You couldn't help but respond in kind, your own voice rough with need. "I need you, Lisa," you whispered, your words punctuated by urgent kisses. "I need to feel you, all of you."

As their bodies pressed together in a feverish embrace, the air between them crackled with anticipation. "I want you to fuck me, Lisa," you gasped, your fingers tangling in her hair. "I want to feel you deep inside me."

Lisa's eyes darkened with desire as she met your gaze, her own words laced with a primal hunger. "I'm going to make you scream my name," she growled, her hands gripping your hips possessively. "I'm going to take you until you can't think straight."

She pushed you back onto her desk with a force that stole your breath away. The sudden movement caused a cascade of papers, pens, and office supplies to tumble to the floor, forgotten amidst the intensity of their desire.

Lisa took control, pinning your wrists above your head with one hand as she positioned herself between your legs. The air crackled with electricity as she leaned in close, her lips brushing against yours in a searing kiss that left you dizzy with need.

"Ready for me, baby?" Lisa's voice was a husky whisper against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. Without waiting for an answer, she plunged into you with a ferocity that stole your breath away, her movements rough and unrelenting.

Each thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the room. The desk beneath you groaned in protest, unable to withstand the force of your passion as it rocked and shifted beneath you.

Lisa's voice dripped with desire as she leaned in close, her lips brushing against yours between each heated breath. "You like it rough, don't you, baby?" she murmured, her voice laced with a raw intensity that sent shivers down your spine. "You want me to fuck you hard and fast?"

Your response was lost in a guttural moan as Lisa's relentless pace drove you to the edge of ecstasy. "Yes, yes," you gasped, your words barely coherent amidst the overwhelming pleasure. "I want it rough, Lisa. I want you to take me."

With a feral grin, Lisa unleashed a barrage of dirty talk, each word a deliciously wicked promise of what was to come. "You're mine, baby," she growled, her voice low and commanding. "I'm going to fuck you senseless."

Her words sent a surge of arousal coursing through your veins as you surrendered to the intensity of her passion. The desk beneath you groaned in protest as your bodies moved in perfect sync, the sound of your lovemaking echoing through the room.

As the pleasure built to a fever pitch, you felt yourself teetering on the edge of oblivion. "God, Lisa, I'm gonna cum," you cried, your voice raw with need.

With a triumphant smirk, Lisa quickened her pace, driving you both to the brink of ecstasy. "Cum for me, baby," she whispered, her voice a seductive purr in your ear. "Let go and give me everything you've got."

And with those words ringing in your ears, you surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure, your body exploding in a torrent of release. As you collapsed in her arms shaking.

Her eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint as she pulled you up from the desk, her strength evident in the effortless way she handled you. "Ready for another round, baby?" she purred, her voice dripping with seduction.

You nodded eagerly, your heart racing with anticipation. Without hesitation, Lisa guided you to bend over the desk, your hands gripping the edge tightly as you braced yourself for what was to come.

As you presented yourself to her, offering yourself up for her pleasure, Lisa wasted no time in taking control. With a sharp slap to your ass, the sting of her touch sends a jolt of electricity coursing through your body.

"Fuck, Lisa," you gasped, your voice a mixture of pleasure and pain as she positioned herself behind you. Her grip on your hips was firm, almost possessive, as she drove into you with a force that made you scream in pleasure.

Each thrust was a symphony of desire, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room as Lisa claimed you as her own. With each movement, she pushed you closer to the edge of ecstasy, her touch igniting a fire within you that burned hotter with each passing moment. “Lisa! Fuck!” You screamed out.

"God, you feel so good," Lisa moaned, her voice thick with desire as she pounded into you relentlessly. Her fingers dug into your flesh, leaving marks of possession as she claimed you as her own.

As Lisa thrust into you, the pleasure kept building, pushing you both closer to the edge. Your breaths were ragged and loud, yelps here and there, mixing with the rhythmic sounds of skin smacking together. It was like a symphony of desire filling

As Lisa continued to thrust into you with fervor, her voice husky with desire, she groaned, "God, you're so tight, baby." Her words sent a shiver down your spine, intensifying the pleasure coursing through your body.

Your muscles clenched around her, responding to her every movement as she buried herself deeper inside you. The sensation of being stretched and filled by her only fueled the fire of your desire, pushing you closer to the edge of ecstasy with each passing moment.

Quickening her pace, her thrusts became more urgent as she chased her own release. The sound of her ragged breaths mingled with your own, creating a symphony of passion that filled the room.

Lisa's voice was a husky growl of desire. "Fuck, baby, I'm gonna cum," she groaned, her words filled with primal urgency. "I'm gonna cum in you so hard."

With a cry of ecstasy, you urged her on, your own desire reaching a fever pitch. "Yes! Cum in me," you cried out, your voice echoing in the room.

Feeling your body respond to her touch, Lisa's finger found your clit, rubbing it hard and fast, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you. You squirmed in her arms, unable to contain the overwhelming sensation as she pushed you closer to the edge.

Your body convulsed with the force of your release, waves of pleasure washing over you in a tidal wave of ecstasy. Your pussy gripped her cock so tightly, making it hard for her to thrust.

With a grunt, Lisa pushed herself all the way inside you, going as deep as she could as she reached her peak. With one final thrust, she released herself, filling you completely with her warm thick cum as she came deep inside you.

Calming down, Lisa pulled you into her embrace, both of you sinking into her office chair with her cock still buried deep inside you. "Thank you for coming to take care of me, baby," she whispered, pressing gentle kisses to your shoulder and neck.

Letting out a shuddered breath, you managed to reply, "Of course, my love," as Lisa held you close, offering comfort until you had calmed down. With a tender touch, she helped you clean up, her presence a soothing balm after the storm of passion.

A sudden knock at the office door shattered the tranquility of the moment, and Lisa's assistant's voice trembled as she spoke. "Mrs. Manoban, um, you have a meeting soon."

With a composed nod, Lisa replied, "Alright, Millie, thank you. I'll be out soon." She quickly composed herself, adjusting her appearance before turning to you with a look of adoration.

"I'll see you at home, baby. I love you," Lisa said, pressing a passionate kiss to your lips before reluctantly pulling away and leaving the office.

As you sat there, still feeling the lingering echoes of your lovemaking, you couldn't help but smile at the love and passion you shared with Lisa. Feeling a flush of heat rising to your cheeks, you couldn't help but notice the curious glances from her colleagues as you walked out of Lisa's office. The intensity of your encounter with her still lingered, leaving you feeling both exhilarated and slightly self-conscious under their scrutiny.

But as you caught Lisa's eye, she gave you a playful wink, a silent reassurance that everything was alright. Her confidence and ease put you at ease as well, and you returned her wink with a small smile before continuing on your way back home.

[smuttysabina]

Incandescent

(Rose x Male Reader, 3k Words) Tags: Femdom, oodles of fluff, some fun sex, some trauma is involved, kinda artsy, some physical as well as mental abuse

A/N This is a quick little story I spun up after I imagined Rose ranting while dominating you, enjoy!

Darkness cocoons you as tightly as any restraint, filling your senses, drowning your eyes in an endless nothingness that devours your sanity. The strongest prisons are the ones we make for ourselves, and the dark provides all the material you would ever need. Which is not to say that your fetters did not also exist in the mundane realm of existence outside of your thoughts, softly clinking metal binds your wrists and ankles to the stolid slab that supports you. The sound of the metal whispering against itself was the only indication of the passing of time; the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears already ignored as your brain probes for threats in the ceaseless night. You shiver in numbing terror as your mind concocts all manner of horrors for your stress-addled body to react to; anything was preferable to unending nothingness of unthoughts. Mankind had always feared the abyss of twilight, not from the dangers it might hold, but from what it awakened within; the agony of introspection. Little wonder then that we have always cleaved towards the light for comfort, not realizing that the greatest threat is often the one we can see the clearest. The door scrapes open behind you, casting dazzling shadows upon the walls that your eyes eagerly devour even as they bring tears of overstimulation. A voice as soft and sweet as honey drips into your ears,

"Now what do we have here?"

Your skin nearly tears itself from your bones in surprise, as a velvety hand gently caresses your bare shoulder, its owner's footsteps so quiet you had not heard their approach. Or perhaps, the pounding of blood in your ears had covered her movements; perhaps she wasn't even real... Murmured curses sound as the new arrival scrabbles around on the wall, her nails a cacophony to your sound-starved ears. The faint click of plastic soon follows, and your senses explode with pain as light sears into your brain, causing you to scream in astonished pain. You blink rapidly, squinting against the glare, the pale shape floating in front of you gradually shifting into a sleek white evening dress, adorning a radiant goddess. The beguiling beauty idly slurps on her drink as she waits for your cognition to return, her blonde hair tied back in a business-like manner. The light haloing her is intense, pouring down in a cone in front of you; the harsh buzz of it grating on your hearing. She gives a quaint smile when she notices sanity returning to your gaze, sloshing her drink around in studied amusement as you come to truly realize your predicament. Rose leans against the table and sighs, motioning towards the ceiling,

"Do you know how many times I've asked them to change out these lights? You would think with all the millions we've made for them, the least those imbeciles could do is at least replace this garbage with something nicer. Oh well, I imagine you didn't come here to listen to me rant about company politics; actually, why are you here at all? Don't answer, it was a rhetorical question. You got caught wandering where you shouldn't, so who do you belong to, hm? Not Jennie, that's for certain, you still seem reasonably sane and entirely undrained of all vitality. Perhaps you're one of Lisa's little toys, was she being too demanding of you as usual? Or are you Jisoo's... that must be it, she probably let you stumble around while she was busy elsewhere; typical. Ah well, now you are mine to play with, punishing you should prove to be an enjoyable way to destress..."

Horror dawns upon you as the idol distractedly rambles on, her fierce gaze boring into you as she talks. You stutter out a question through parched lips, your voice rasping from disuse. Rose pauses, and with another distracted sigh, pokes the straw of her drink into your mouth, allowing you to gulp down the refreshingly sweet liquid. She yanks the drink away from you after several seconds, but after examining the depleted state of her beverage she gracefully allows you to finish it off. A raised eyebrow prompts you to repeat your question, "Why?"

"Why what? Why do this? Because I can, because I enjoy breaking people until they worship me, because it's fun," a sleazy smile briefly appears, "And to be completely honest, because it arouses me immensely. Yes, it's very depraved I know, truly I am the weird one because I enjoy a little sadism with my sex. Any more burning questions? We have a little time until I finish my- oh right; well it's going to be rather gratifying sticking this straw in places it doesn't belong. Hm, what made me so angry? Oh my poor little dear, I'm not angry, just extremely irritated; I suppose if your interested I could torture you with mind-numbingly boring tales of lawyering... Oh you are cute, you think you're playing for time do you?" Rose traces her hand down your chest, making you shiver at her gentle touch, "You see, I find that the most agonizing thing for those I dominate is the waiting. You just keep hoping that the moment will never come, always worried that the next minute will be the one when I truly dig in. So I think a little..." she leans forward to breath into your ear, "Anticipation will make this more fun, yes?"

You let out a low moan as Rose's hand ends its journey and firmly grasps your genitals, giving them a squeeze in promise of the torments to come before withdrawing. Rose suddenly whirls, stalking back to her perch on the table; her hand automatically reaching for her drink before remembering once more that it is empty. She languidly waves at you, indicating that it is your turn to entertain, or simply suffer in silence. Rose pointedly settles a finger on the light switch, she knows. Terrified by the thought of being alone in the dark, completely at Rose's mercy, you rack your brain for anything forestall the darkness. "Why are you feeling so irritated?"

Rose grimaces, slowly returning to stand in front of you, placing her foot on the slab she lets out a slow breath; before promptly slapping you twice, "Now that, was a poor question, dear pet, now I am inclined to simply skip straight to the more intimate methods of teaching submission. Perhaps next time you'll learn to be more of an adroit conversationalist... Hm, why am I hurting you? I thought we established that already, now be silent or I'll fetch the ball gag- Oh, you meant why am I a sadist?" Rose pinches your chin, tapping on your face as she ponders whether she should answer the query. It is to your great relief that she appears willing to do so, forestalling your inevitable punishment, "That, is a long story, and would require a great deal of backstory, but I am a product of my vocation. Idol training requires some... demeaning concessions, so perhaps I am simply taking out my frustrations on all of you."

"That's the easy answer," your mouth foolishly spouts before you silence it.

Rose seems pleased by your boldness however, playfully squishing your lips together, "Is it though? Perhaps, the simpler answer is the best one; but still, such courage does require a reward..." Rose seductively hooks a finger over the top of her dress, before slowly pulling it down, revealing her breasts, pale skin glistening in the light. Your body automatically responds to such stimulation, your manhood hardening, your breath quickening as it pumps oxygen into your muscles in anticipation of sex. You manage to hold on to your sanity however, your mind still too riven with paranoia, to give fully into your primal urge to breed. Rose cocks her head at your reaction, "You know, most people would be humping the air right now; the girls too, not just the boys. I've seen more bitches than you've ever met sobbing as they beg me to impregnate them; it's sickening really. It's no wonder I have to discipline such degenerates, right? And the worst part of it," Rose pauses, considering whether she should continue before shrugging to herself, "The worst part is how much they adore me for it. They love me even before I break them; even my supposed "haters" are slobbering over themselves with devotion after only a few minutes in my presence. None of them hate me for it, none of them despise me for forcing them to demean themselves in the most perverse ways possible," Rose slips her hand down your neck, nails digging slightly into your chest, drawing white lines across your skin, "Will you hate me then, before the end? Your fear is palpable, but will you look up at me with loathing when I finally break you?"

To say that you are greatly concerned at the mental state of the idol sharing the room with you would be an understatement. You shudder at the thought of what horrors she would inflict upon you; evidently Rose is well versed in the art of pain. More horrifying yet, your body seems strangely aroused by that, depravedly hungering for its own destruction if it meant a chance to impregnate the sexual goddess. Her eyes bore intensely into your own, and you feel her claws starting to hook into you; something was needed to distract her... You gulp, "I'll try, but um, how do the other girls deal with it?"

Rose snorts in amused contempt, "You sure know how to inspire confidence in a woman, pet. But I'll indulge you, we don't. All of us idols are fucked up," Rose counts them off on her fingers, "Twice is a freaking breeding cult, Itzy are simply insane, IVE are spoiled rotten, Loona are is cracked as their fans, Red Velvet are literal whores, Aespa enjoy getting passed around like baubles, and don't even get me started about the boy groups... Oh and Blackpink, I would say we're the worst of the whole bunch," Rose distractedly sits on the slab as she rants, occasionally slapping your thighs for emphasis, "Do you know what Lisa did today? Of course you don't, you've been locked down here, alone in the dark. We were in a meeting with the idiots who run this place, and they were begging on their knees for us not to leave the company. Now they looked like they hated us for forcing them to demean themselves like that; well most of them did, some were enjoying it. But then Lisa, that crazy bitch, you know what she does?"

You cough, "She uh, fucked them?"

Rose blinks at your interruption, before snorting, "Good guess, but no, not yet at least; I imagine it will come to that eventually. No, Lisa just looked at these pitiful business men pawing at our feet, and then she pissed on them. Oh I am completely serious, she just pissed on them and giggled. I don't think I've ever seen Jisoo laugh that hard, and Jennie nearly choked on her coffee! To be honest, I also joined in, but at that point it was more about sending a message than anything else. So you see, all of us are bent in one way or another; especially us. Lisa is literally a nymphomaniac, she has a full-scale mental breakdown after a single day without sex. Jennie's sex drive is so monstrous she can fuck for weeks without stopping; you think I'm joking but I'm not. And dear Jisoo... she just loves showering her pets with so much love they drown in it; she's probably the least crazy of all of us. Hm, and me? Oh come now, no doubt you can already tell the direction my vices run..." Rose flicks a switch, causing the slab to tilt horizontal. She grabs your neck and leans in for a savage kiss, "So tell me pet, do I seem even remotely sane?"

"Um, yes?"

Rose laughs so hard she staggers, holding on to the slab for support as she howls. It takes some time to compose herself, but when she does it is to your relief that her dark mood looks to have dissipated. She gives you something approaching a fond smile and gives you the courage to push your luck, "See? Maybe you just needed some wholesome venting and not torture-sex after all!" Rose's smile grows more genuine, and she reaches behind her back, toying with something. With a suddenness that surprises you, Rose's dress cascades to the ground, leaving her entirely naked. Your eyes balloon as you drink in the awesome sight of an idol's body, her tender breasts, her taut stomach, and most importantly, the pair of lips gleaming mere inches away from your face. You feel something trickle down your shaft, as you gawp at the beautiful girl standing ever so close to you. Rose glances at your crotch with studied humor, she gives your meat a flick as she climbs up onto the slab, straddling your face.

"While the venting was nice, I still do desire some sex; so for your sake you had best pleasure me enough to keep me wholesome. Or don't, we're going to reach the point where I need to start getting truly inventive to keep you up eventually, so why not start early?" Rose promptly plants her pussy on your mouth, "So let's see if that tongue of yours is as skilled at pleasing as it is at talking. Be sure to give it your all, pet, I don't intend for you to be conscious by the time this is over, so spare nothing." After that she relaxes on your face for a while, glancing down at you on occasion as she idly gropes herself. For your part you spend the time drowning in her juices, frantically licking and sucking at the delicious flesh in your mouth. Eventually however, she orders you to stop, "Wow... you are fucking terrible at this, its so bad its honestly impressive. Are you a virgin? Though that's really not much of an excuse. Hm, that's the first of your chances to satisfy me gone, let's hope the next one goes better," Rose scoots backwards, dragging her pussy lips across your chest until they slide over your erect cock, "I was pleasantly surprised to see you hadn't cum when I stripped for you, perhaps that indicates you have more stamina than usual..." With a complete lack of fanfare, Rose sits on your cock in a single smooth motion, devouring every inch of you with ease. Your balls pulse in response, and she lets out a disappointed sigh, "Well I guess not, oh well."

Rose starts to ride you, uncaring of how sensitive you were following an orgasm; making a mess on your crotch as your seed leaks out of her. After several minutes of such excessive pleasure, you climax once more; Rose doesn't even bother slowing down. Only when you start to flag does she even start to pay attention to anything other than her own enjoyment, "You know, as much as you amuse me with all of your philosophizing, and even after all that wonderfully justifying on my part; at the end of the day I'm really just a cruel bitch, aren't I?" With a devilish smirk, Rose leans over, and flicks of the light. The abyss embraces you once more, but this time, you know there is something sharing it with you. You cringe, paranoid of all the horrors Rose will inflict upon you in darkness. She giggles, "Oh you are simply adorable dear pet, I should do this sort of thing more often, sensory deprivation truly brings out the animal in us..." Her hand is suddenly clamped around your neck, pinching off the blood flow to your brain, "So get it up again, or don't, I like it when you resist," A rain of stinging slaps and pinches descends upon, her abuse landing seemingly at random; often she pauses in her efforts until you are shivering with anticipation. Most terrifying of all, was how hard it made you, your cock becoming erect with fear. Rose laughs with delight as you climax once more, "God you are such a fucking quick-shot, you're lucky to have a girl like me to tolerate your pathetic cock. Do try to not black out too early, I might just keep fucking you anyways."

Ensconced in the endless gloom, you are completely vulnerable to Rose's attentions. She pinches and slaps, kneads and squeezes, licks and gnaws, sucking on your flesh until it bruises. You are lost in a world of unexpected pain and sensation, the only constant in your universe is the warm wetness around your cock. The heat surrounding your manhood seems to devour your misery, your suffering fueling a burning lust that somehow manages to keep you erect even after several orgasms. The heat of Rose's body imprints itself into your mind; no longer were you alone, now she was there as well. The ceaseless slap of flesh reaches a crescendo, Rose's sudden gasp painfully loud, as a fresh source of warmth spreads from your crotch. Her heaving breaths grow closer until they caress your face, and she murmurs, "Do you hate me now, pet?" Your body is a pattern of bruises and aches, your skin sensitive to the merest touch, your manhood a beacon of pleasurable agony; so you answer honestly,

"No."

Rose whistles softly, "Well I suppose I will just have to try harder then. Scream as much as you'd like, there's only the two of us in here"

You merely smile as a fresh round of abuse begins; how could you hate such a goddess? How could you hate Rose after she filled the empty void with such exquisite stimulation, banishing the horrors of nothingness. No longer would you fear the twilight of your mind, because Rose would always be there with you, dispelling the shadows, incandescent in the dark.

[rotworld]

7: Night Shift

art by @exorbitantsqueakingnoises

you work in one of the tourist traps along a popular beach pier known for its party scene. it's a night like any other. you have no idea about the unusual party crashers who are about to show up and ruin everything.

->original work. explicit; contains non-con, graphic descriptions of violence, feral behavior, hard vore, mind control, terato, non-human genitalia.

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Last week, it was “Greek Gods of the Sea.” Togas and tridents, mostly, some seashell bikinis, a few fake beards stuffed with plastic starfish. They drank too much and cranked the music too loud, but that’s nothing new. Everyone knows what to expect from the Lucky Rock Pier Party People Association (“Lurpppa” to the local news, “Trouble at Ten O’Clock” to your fellow boardwalk employees, “Those Fucking Kids” to beachfront property owners). 

You wear headphones most nights anyway, desperate to keep the shrill, repetitive carnival songs of the pier funhouse from being seared into your brain. They don’t bother you much because the sign at the front says there’s no bathroom and all the hot dogs and funnel cakes are further down the boardwalk, but a few will trickle in just for something to do. If they spot the freezer, they’ll huddle around the glass and stare like the Mona Lisa’s in there, agonizing over a choice between an ice cream sandwich or fruit pops. 

Tonight, it’s a glow party. Neon beach balls and glow stick arches. You can’t hear the noise they’re making through your headphones but you can feel the bass throbbing through your feet. Someone’s probably going to call the cops again. The tourist family population retreats this time of night so it’s just you, the handful of shops still open this late, and Trouble at Ten O’Clock. This one’s more fun to watch, at least, bright and colorful like the spill of noctiluca. They’re vivid in glow-in-the-dark body paint, covered in luminescent stripes, swirls and splatters. 

A few of them come stumbling up the pier earlier than usual. Three women in different halter tops, painted with matching curly cues and butterflies on their faces. One of them wanders off to look at the tote bags. Another, much more inebriated, leans heavily against her friend. The designated driver, you assume, who drags her to the freezer to pick out something to eat. You glance down at the beach and see one of them sitting on Lucky Rock, the jagged chunk of stone sticking out of the water not far from shore. You’re not sure how he climbed up the slippery, steep sides but he’s definitely not supposed to be up there. The people on the beach are way too excited about it, gathered around cheering and hollering. 

Three ice cream sandwiches are dropped on the counter in front of you. You lift one side of your headphones and shrieking noise rushes in, the glow party just as raucous as you expected. “Will that be all?” you ask. The woman nods. Her friend starts to fall over and she has to support her weight against her shoulder. You ring up the total and she groans. Everything on the boardwalk is three times the price it should be, but she adds a tote bag when the other woman wanders back with one and tosses their ice cream inside. “Thanks, come again,” you call, sliding your headphones back on.

Ten minutes until closing time. Not much to do but sweep out the sand gathered in the doorway and tidy up the disaster zone a horde of children made of the stuffed animal section. Sharks and dolphins on the top shelf, turtles on the second, fish and starfish on the third—

Something moves in the corner of your eye. Startled, you turn and find a man ambling slowly through the store. A stray from the glow party, you think at first. Then you look again, paying attention this time. He looks like all the partygoers down on the beach, a silhouette with luminescent edges, but he shouldn’t. Not under the store lights. He’s midnight blue from head to toe beneath intricate glowing patterns, chest and shoulders speckled with small dots like cyan freckles with larger spots along his sides. Thin stripes trace the outlines of muscle beneath the skin, turning into a spiral pattern at his hips. 

Which you can see, you realize, because he’s naked. No swim trunks. No speedo. He’s wet and dripping all over the floor like he just crawled out of the water, a puddle slowly growing beneath his feet, and you can follow the course of every droplet as they roll slowly down curves and valleys of lithe swimmer’s muscles. Some of the lines on his torso are moving, you realize. Horizontal squiggles on either side of his abdomen flinch and pulsate. 

Gills, you realize. The pieces come together all at once in your mind. Despite working the boardwalk as long as you have, you’ve never seen a sea muse before. Most people haven’t. They’re skittish, you’ve heard. They prefer quiet coves and grottos, places humans have a harder time reaching. Safer that way if they decide to shed their tail and sun themselves for a while. This one certainly doesn’t seem bothered by the commotion down at the beach, poking through the t-shirt rack with long, clawed fingers. He doesn’t look much like the pictures you’ve seen, either, but all the pictures are of muses lurking in tropical reefs, big-finned and colorful like bettas. Beautiful like him, but not bioluminescent and not quite so large. He must come from deeper, colder waters. 

You set down a stuffed octopus as gently as you can but he hears it, turning swiftly to face you. Your heart races. He has the large, eerie eyes of an abyssal creature, glowing half-moons gleaming underneath wide silver irises and black sclera. Nobody prepared you for what to do in this situation. Do you play dead? Raise your arms and make noise to scare him off? What you mistook for slicked back hair is some kind of shimmery membrane. It flares out like the neck flap of a cobra in a threat display, but it starts to sag and flatten the longer you stare at each other. His eyes move slightly in their wide sockets, looking you over head to toe. 

An uncannily human smile spreads across his face. He makes some odd gestures towards you. His mouth moves. He’s talking, you realize, trying to communicate. You almost lift your headphones off but your brain catches up at the last second. You don’t know a lot about sea muses but you know enough to keep your ears covered. 

He blinks, staring at you in almost comical wide-eyed confusion. Then he smirks, his gills fluttering with laughter. He starts pacing back and forth, slowly inching closer like a shark circling prey in the water. He’s between you and the door so you inch towards the register counter instead. Maybe you can slip out the back? 

He stops suddenly, leaving some distance between you. He speaks again, tapping the side of his head and pointing at you. You shake your head and he frowns, but he doesn’t give up. You watch, morbid curiosity overpowering your fear, as he starts to move in a slow, seductive manner. It’s some kind of dance, you think, arching his back and extending the membrane on his head again, bioluminescence glittering on thin, translucent flesh. He holds your gaze as he runs a hand down the center of his chest, over his stomach, down to his pelvis and—

You’re not entirely sure what you expected to see between his legs, but it’s still a bit of a shock. The thick, jutting member is deep indigo at the base and a lighter aquamarine down the length. It barely resembles a human cock except in its vaguely phallic silhouette, oozing from an engorged sheath that dribbles cloudy slime. The shaft is smooth with a gentle upward curve, thick and shuddering with unnatural flexibility. It narrows to a soft triangular tip. Two additional appendages unfold from his hips. They remind you of crustacean legs, rigid and insectoid. They bend along two joints, pawing at the air with their sharp claw tips. 

The sea muse makes a thrusting motion. The tentacle-cock wraps around his hand, drooling like a tongue. His bioluminescent patches flash and dim like a flickering candle. You’re no marine biologist but it feels safe to assume this is a mating display.

“Uh. No? No thanks,” you say.

He grins. You see a row of daggers for teeth. He speaks slowly and your heart skips a beat when you clearly read the words, Are you sure? on his lips. 

“I’m sure. Thanks anyway.” Maybe you should be flattered. You’ve never heard of anyone getting hit on by a sea muse. He lets out a big, disappointed sigh, extra dramatic so you can’t miss it, and gives himself one last stroke before he moves on. You half-expect the cock to slither back into its sheath, but it stays obscenely hard and straining upright between his legs.

To your dismay, he doesn’t leave but instead pokes around the shop some more. He wanders to the left, examining surfboard keychains and hibiscus shot glasses. He wanders to the right, squinting at the postcards. Eventually, he makes his way to the freezer and slides it open with some difficulty. His head membrane flares out wider than you’ve ever seen it the first time he sticks his hand inside. You wonder if he hissed. He tries again, pinching a fruit pop in its colorful package between his claws. He rips the plastic open.

“Hey!” you say. “You can’t just—”

He looks back over his shoulder at you, eyes narrowed and membrane spread in warning. You turn away and continue to mind your own business. 

The glow party seems to be winding down. The beach balls are all sitting in a pile. Some of the glow stick arches have toppled over. The pounding bass isn’t shaking the pier anymore. You see a lot of people lounging in the sand, rolling around, stretched out together, a bunch of them writhing—

Oh, you think. That’s bold, even for Trouble at Ten O’Clock. There’s no mistaking those thrusting, grinding, back and forth movements for anything else. There are a few couples scattered around but most of them have settled into a spot worryingly close to the water, seafoam rushing around them whenever the waves come surging up the beach. They tangle together in passionate motion, kissing and caressing and fucking like it’s the last night of their lives.

Something about it unsettles you. They’re being so rough with each other. This isn’t a slow, sensual orgy but a frenzy. Mindless, animalistic rutting and forceful movements. You see mouths open in silent screams. Some of them aren’t moving. Some of them are trying to crawl away but they’re being dragged back by the ankle, the hair, the arm, pulled through the dark sand. Why is the sand so dark? And wet, glistening where the tide hasn’t risen yet. 

The horrific realization grips you slowly. You’re in denial. You must be having a nightmare. A man tries to claw his way up the beach but someone else pins him down, straddles his back. You don’t see what happens, can’t make it out in the dark, but the paint on his body stretches and splits, and the sand darkens in a liquid motion under him. A woman arches her back in the throes of ecstasy, surrounded on all sides by eager, thrusting bodies. They’re biting her, you realize. Their heads lower and blood splashes the sand. Through all of it, she squirms and rakes her fingers through the sound as though she’s never felt pleasure like this before. Someone crawls between her legs and she opens them eagerly, loops them around the waist of something that is not human, you realize. None of the ones surrounding her are. They glow more brightly in more precise patterns, membranes pulsating, gills fluttering.

Your headphones are ripped away, clattering uselessly to the floor. You hear an awful cacophony of moaning, screaming, begging, and weeping. You think, for just a second, about running. Your muscles tense and your heart races. Where? For how long? You don’t know but you’re willing to try. 

“Where are you going?” says the sea muse and you can’t move a muscle. His voice is low and melodic. You hear the ocean when he speaks; the hiss and splash of the shallows, the heavy drone of the deep. “Hm? Do you want to join them?” You hear the wet slap of his footsteps for the first time as he comes closer. His hand grasps your chin lightly, barely applying any pressure, but you feel compelled to turn around. To look up at his sharp-toothed smile and the gentle pulse of his bioluminescence. “My shiver is down there. Frenzying,” he says. He turns your head to the side, just far enough to glimpse the gruesome scene on the beach, then returns your gaze to him. 

“Please don’t,” you say hoarsely, your throat constricted. “Don’t make me, don’t—” 

“It’s been so long,” he says, and your mouth snaps shut. “Since I last came ashore.” He walks backwards, his fingers still ghosting against your chin, and you follow. You don’t want to but your legs move on their own. His voice is addictive. You hang on every word and you hope he never stops talking. The silence between makes you tremble. “Even longer since I last mated. You can see it. You can tell how long I’ve waited, if you look.” 

You don’t want to look but your eyes betray you, gaze lowering to the slithering thing between his legs. It curls around itself impatiently like a snake. Another glob of slime slides slowly from its sheath and dribbles on the floor. The way it moves frightens you, the base twitching and undulating, slug-like. 

“You want this,” he says. He takes another step back and you rush forward. He strokes beneath your chin. 

You shake your head desperately. Your mouth is trying to shape the word “yes.”

“You do. You want this.” His back hits the register counter and he leans against it, spreading his legs wide. “You want to taste me,” he says, his voice dipping lower. 

You drop to your knees so fast it hurts, feeling the blooming sting of new bruises. It doesn’t matter that you’re terrified. It doesn’t matter that the thing bobbing in your face is like nothing you’ve ever seen before. You open your mouth and suck the strange, pointed head without hesitation. The sea muse moans and your thighs quiver, inner muscles clenching on nothing. You have to hear it again. 

“You need it,” he purrs, thrusting shallowly. You bob your head, taking him deeper every time. He hits the back of your throat quickly, his cock eager and probing at the inside of your mouth. “You need me to spill inside you. You need everything I have to give.” You moan and choke around his length. His hand rests on the back of your head, forcing you down further. His thrusts get harder and faster, crushing your nose against his slick abdomen. 

Some part of you is screaming at the alien movements of his cock, how it nudges and prods and tries to snake down your throat, but you can’t focus on that. He doesn’t let you. Every grunt and moan, every hiss of praise, makes the fear even more distant. 

“You need—oh, yes,” he groans, clutching your head with both hands as he pounds into your mouth. “You need to mate with me. You need—mm, suck on me, suck on the tip—fuck, you need my milt. I have so much and you need all of it.” 

You make a humiliating, needy sound when he suddenly pulls you off of his cock. It slips out of your mouth reluctantly, the tip sliding back and forth against your lips. He drags you to your feet by the forearm, shoving you against the register counter. He bends you over it, tearing at your clothes with his claws. You cum when he blows softly against your ear. You’re still shivering, clawing mindlessly at the counter when he kisses and licks the shell, sliding his tongue into every little dip and groove. 

“Do you want me?” he whispers. You hear a slick sound, a grunt, and then his hand is at your entrance. He uses the pads of his fingers but he’s not very careful. His claws prick your thighs as ass while he smears thick, warm globs between your legs. “Hm? Do you want me?” 

“Yes,” you sob. You arch your back and try to press your hips back against him. He makes a growling sound against your ear that makes your knees buckle, nipping the lobe playfully. 

“You want to be fucked?” One hand reaches around and roughly works your sex, spreading a warm, tingling sensation. “Want to be filled with milt?” 

“Yes!” 

His cock slides along the curve of your ass, teasing you. Then it slithers down, sliding into just the right angle with the tip pushed against your entrance. “Good human,” he purrs, and your eyes roll back in your head. His tip presses inside and then he’s thrusting hard and fast without warning. More slime drips from his sheath and slides down his length, the tingling slickness easing his punishing rhythm. It wouldn’t matter if the lubrication wasn’t there. You can’t do anything but lay there and gasp and meet his thrusts, needing his cock inside you more than you need to breathe. 

Those sharp, grasping appendages hook around your thighs. You feel them lock into place, their grip tightening until you’re right up against the sea muse’s body. His thrusts don’t slow at all. If anything, he’s even rougher and faster, deep humping thrusts that make you tremble and scream. He keeps talking through all of it no matter how winded and breathless he gets, keeping you right on the precipice of orgasm after orgasm with filthy whispers and wet, open-mouthed kisses against your ear. 

“So tight,” he hisses. “You feel so good, squeezing me like that. You want it so much. I’m going to give you everything. You’re going to be so fucking full.” His hips stutter, losing rhythm. You cum again just as a rush of warm wetness pulses inside you, spurting every time the sea muse thrusts. Thick, creamy liquid churns and foams at your entrance, a trickle dribbling down your thigh. You hear a few drops hit the floor under you. The sea muse rides out his orgasm with long, loud moans that send you over the edge again and again. He crushes you against the counter, hips rolling. One last, slow thrust fills you with another hot gush of his strange cum. 

He breathes heavily. His hips sway while he’s still sheathed inside you and his cock curls just the right way to make you sob for mercy. “Hm? You think we’re done?” he murmurs. “I told you. It’s been a long time. I still have so much more to give you. And you want it, don’t you? You need it?” 

“Yes,” you say, your voice quivering and broken. The sea muse starts to fuck you again and all you can do is let him.

You don’t know when it ends. It could be minutes, or hours, or days. The passage of time is measured in breaths and heartbeats and orgasm after orgasm. The floor is slick and sticky under you, a white puddle of milt steadily growing. You think he bites you but you don’t know. It all feels good, especially when he tells you how perfect you are, how sweet and submissive, how well you’re milking his cock of everything he’s saved for this moment. He makes you ride him once, seated on the counter while he bounces you in his lap. He digs his claws into the meat of your ass and leaves marks. 

You don’t know who finds you. Someone else who works the pier, probably, too horrified and embarrassed for both of you to stick around. The Coast Guard sweeps the water but the sea muses are long gone, leaving nothing behind but the mangled leftovers of their frenzy. The bodies glisten in the sand, torn to shreds like a burst whale carcass. By sunrise, the flies and the seagulls are swarming. You’re escorted to an ambulance with a blanket over your shoulders. The first person to look you in the eyes tells you, very quietly, that you might want to quit your job and consider moving inland. 

“Those are mating marks,” he says. You don’t know how he can possibly tell, given that they’re everywhere. Jagged, oozing circles dot your shoulders, arms, thighs and back. “Because they’re at a very precise depth. Meant to scar, not to kill. That means it’s going to come back.” They tell you not to look at the water but you do, one last time, before you leave. You don’t see anything. That doesn’t mean anything. The water’s deep and it seems to go on forever.

That night, in a hospital bed, you have a dream of someone singing to you. It sounds like the ocean filling your ears.

[jtl-fics]

Fluent Freshman - 38

PREV

If it weren’t for the fact that he and Riko had stumbled across a truly traumatizing video of his birth that they had watched secretly in Tetsuji’s office when he was away on a business trip one weekend Kevin would believe that he was born with an Exy racquet in his hand. But the image that is seared into his retinas to this day has proven that he came into this world empty handed.

That doesn’t change the fact that Kevin has spent the majority of his life utterly and completely submersed in Exy. He was trained as a Raven, he was court, he was a champion as both a Raven as a Fox and if he had his way he’d leave college with more Championships under the orange and white than the black and red.

Exy was everything in the world to him.

He could overlook many personality defects if someone brought something to the Court.

Apathetic five foot nothing who was more likely to stab him than shake his hand? Well, he’s the best goalie that Kevin had ever seen in his entire life (and that was saying something).

Tight ass who has anger management issues and will not shut the fuck up about his girlfriend now that he’s not even allowed to have? Well, he is a very solid backliner who has excellent ball handling skills (even if Aaron keeps telling him to stop saying it like that or why he keeps yelling that he’s straight).

Overly touchy, too emotional, will not shut the fuck up about his fiancé in Germany? Well, he is a very solid backliner who is great at rebounds (Kevin doesn’t get why Nicky gets mad when he says that or why he brings up Erik).

Guy who actively dislikes him and is dying for any chance to punch him and also being overly attached to his friends? He’s a great enforcer on the court and had the stamina to play far longer than the other two backliners (Why Dan always said “yeah he does” whenever Kevin commented on Matt’s stamina he will never understand, and he also doesn’t want to.)

Suspicious kid from Millport with a mouth that could strip paint and a past so shrouded in mystery that it even had Andrew perking up in interest? Well, he’s the fastest Striker in the game and the only person that has ever kept up with Kevin’s obsession with the sport. (There was the minor downside that he was the son of the Butcher and almost died before the championships, but Neil pulled through.)

He tolerated all of them and now they’re his best friends.

There are some who he does find personally objectionable but so long as Jack and Sheena manage to continue to be good on the court he doesn’t care about the many many faults in their personalities. They’re his teammates, they aren’t his friends.

He accepted that he might not like any of the others that came onto the team. For the most part he had never given a shit about before the Foxes, content with his brotherhood with Riko even if it wasn’t…perfect. Then he became friends with FF and FF had done him a truly large favor and Kevin wanted to pay that back the best way he knew how. Through his truly infallible health advice and through perfectly crafted smoothies.

Then Daniel appeared with the truth that FF truly met all requirements to be a Fox and Kevin tasted his own smoothie for the first time.

He considered both revelations to be equally upsetting.

Still…

FF was one of the best dealers Kevin had ever had the pleasure to be on Court with. The man knew his position well and interrupted offensives with an enviable ease that made Kevin wish to possibly strap some sort of device onto him and figure out how he did certain things.

It wasn’t that far off to believe that a man raised in the same environment as FF could possibly have similar talents and since Lisa fucked off back to some small town cult they really did need a good sub. Sheena was a good offensive dealer but they had games coming up where defense would be imperative and FF did not have the stamina for a full game and likely would not for quite some time considering he’d be recovering from being stabbed.

So, he’d defended Daniel’s right to try out.

At first, he had felt vindicated. Daniel kept up quite well during the initial warm-ups. Kept pace with Jack, Sheena, Aaron, Andrew, and Nicky. Kevin had been bringing up the rear mostly to make sure that Andrew didn’t stab the guy during warm-ups.

Then it was time for the first precision drill.

The other thing about how Kevin was raised is that he was raised surrounded only by the best of the best. The Ravens were at the top of the Collegiate hierarchy. The National Court used their stadium for practice.

The worst Exy that Kevin had ever seen in his entire life up until the moment that Daniel took hold of an Exy racquet was still only the worst team in Collegiate Division 1 Exy.

Then Kevin watched the ball go so wide that the entire court went silent.

All of the drills that followed were as bad, if not worse.

Kevin felt himself start to vibrate with anger the longer it went on. He started to shout corrections at Daniel but the younger man merely rolled his eyes, “I think I know what I’m doing.” He would say before pointedly proving that he did not.

Kevin only realized nearly an hour in that he had wasted his entire practice shouting himself hoarse at the actual waste of human life that was Daniel Stanton.

Kevin could accept being bad at Exy and having an inoffensive personality. Kevin could accept being good at Exy and having a bad personality.

Kevin could not accept being bad at Exy and having a bad personality.

Coach Wymack called the practice to an end and Kevin thought that he’d manage to keep his anger mostly inside (he is ignoring the near hour of practice he spent screaming directions) when Daniel decided to deliver the Coup de Grace.

Sweat soaking his bangs, panting, and without a single thing done correctly (even the way he was currently holding his borrowed Exy racquet set Kevin’s teeth on edge) the man had the gall, the gumption, and the absolute AUDACITY to come up to the coach.

“So, where do I sign?” he asks.

Kevin sees red and unleashes hell.

***

This was the most fun Andrew has had at a practice since he started having to come to them.

The look of embarrassment on Daniel’s face as Kevin accurately tore into everything he did wrong on the Court and every personal failing that Kevin could home in on. His attention shifted away to FF sitting in the stands near the University official who was shaking her head at the obvious poor showing. The University may have wanted Daniel around to spruce up the Fox’s marketability but even they couldn’t let someone so obviously awful onto one of their few Division 1 teams.

FF was sat sipping one of Kevin’s god awful smoothies looking completely unshocked by Daniel’s showing.

Kevin turned his attention to FF, “You said he was good!” Kevin points at the freshman as he continues to sip the drink.

Andrew interrupts, “He never said he was good.” He remembers the conversation so exactly and there are few things he loves more than having the opportunity to rub it in Kevin’s face when the man is wrong, “He said ‘Daniel has always been athletic’ never anything about him being good.” Andrew reminds.

Kevin whips back around to Daniel, “Have you ever even played Exy?” Kevin demands.

“I didn’t think it’d be hard to pick up.” Daniel argues crossing his arms defensively.

It sets Kevin off on another furious rant.

Andrew had thought that FF didn’t have a mean bone in his body and he’s quite pleased to have been proven wrong. The thought that FF had let Daniel get all the way into embarrassing himself in such a way?

Andrew had to give him props.

“How does it feel getting to watch this idiot crash and burn?” he asks coming to the glass.

“Really thought he could manage it if I could.” FF says with a shrug that has Aaron bark out a laugh.

“You really figured?” Aaron asks coming to stand next to Andrew.

FF just shrugs again, “I mean I also started not knowing how to play and now I’m on a pretty good team.” He says as if FF starting as a child not knowing how to play is the same as someone walking in demanding a spot on a college team.

Nicky lets out a laugh.

“Oh, Smithy I could kiss you.” Nicky laughs and makes his way towards the Court entrance to likely do exactly that moving past a Daniel who was so red in the face with embarrassment and anger that he looked as if he was about to turn purple.

Andrew tuned in.

“…small pond. The only reason you ever felt like you were worth anything is that Smiths was too nice to put you in your place before now!” Kevin was probably talking about medium-sized fish in a small pond but Andrew didn’t really care to know.

“Are you going to let him talk to me like this?!” Daniel finally turned to Wymack.

“Kevin, you shouldn’t talk to the public like that.” Wymack says without a hint of chastisement in his voice.

Kevin still straightened at the reminder, “You’re right. Sorry coach.” Kevin sneered at Daniel, “Get off the court before you taint it.” He hisses.

“You’re really not going to sign me?!” Daniel demands.

“Why would I?” Wymack asks with a raised brow.

“You took a chance on John!” Daniel points towards FF.

Andrew watches as Wymack’s face does something he’d rarely seen it do, it goes utterly and completely cold. “I don’t take chances with my kids.” He spat, “I give my kids a second chance. Get the hell off of my court.” He hisses.

Daniel’s face purples further before he stomped off of the Court.

“Don’t you dare walk off with that racquet! It’s worth more than you!” Kevin shouts after him and Andrew in that moment realizes that Daniel is going to do something stupid.

And FF is on the other side of the Plexiglass with only Nicky at his side.

It’s like watching a train crash.

Daniel might say something, but Andrew doesn’t know. He sees Neil rushing as well, his sense of danger always well-honed but Neil had been in Captain mode in the moments before walking some of the sophomore and freshmen through what they had done wrong.

Neither of them will make it in time.

Daniel throws his racquet, and he throws it right at FF barely 5 feet away in the stands.

The Racquet blows past FF’s head and Andrew lets out a breath.

Then before it could crash into the seats behind him and break FF’s hand wrapped around the shaft of the stick and stopped it’s trajectory.

“Your aim really isn’t getting any better by not listening to Kevin’s advice.” Smith says as he twirls the racquet in his hand so that the net was on the ground. “Also, don’t break the equipment, like Kevin said it’s pretty expensive.” He says.

Daniel let out a primal scream but where Andrew had stalled out to watch the miraculous catch Matt Boyd had not. Daniel was tackled to the ground by the backliner, “Absolutely not.” Matt said with a scowl.

“Smithy are you okay?” Andrew hears Nicky ask.

“Yeah, why?” FF asks as if he hadn’t just been attacked but considering everything that Andrew had seen it wouldn’t shock him if Daniel’s attacks were just par for the course back home for FF. “The racquet looks okay too.” He adds.

“Coach Wymack,” The University representative made their way down looking flustered at the outburst of violence.

Obviously not someone who regularly watched Exy or paid attention to their team.

“This is why I wanted absolute control over who does and who doesn’t get a shot here.” Wymack hisses pointing at Daniel as he struggled under Matt.

“You have our sincere apologies for this.” She says looking at Daniel, “He didn’t… we thought he’d be good for the team’s culture but it seems like we may have misjudged-“

“That guy just tried to take Smithy out!” Nicky interrupts.

“I told you he was dangerous.” Neil adds.

“Can someone call campus security?” Matt asks from the ground, “This jackass keeps aiming for kidney punches and I would like to not be pissing blood during winter break.” Matt requests.

“O-of course!” the University representative says fumbling for her cell phone.

Andrew looked at Matt and figured that the backliner had a handle on that particular mess at the moment.

He made his way over to FF and Nicky who was checking over the freshman.

“Nice catch.” He says.

FF shrugs, “It’s my racquet he was borrowing.” He says, “I didn’t want to get a new one.” He adds.

***

FF watches as campus security took custody of Daniel as he continued to spit and scream. There are talks about pressing charges, but FF just wants Daniel off of the campus and away from him. It’s Jack of all people who says that getting a restraining order is a great way to make sure Daniel stays the hell away from him and FF nods consideringly.

Honestly, he’s still mostly in shock he managed to catch his racquet the way he had. His reflexes weren’t quite up to snuff since he’d been trying to catch the netting, but his hand only closed around the shaft.

Embarrassing.

He really hopes no one teases him about his slower reflexes.

“He needs to be charged for assault at least.” Kevin hisses as they watch the security officers take Daniel away.

“It’d be attempted assault.” Aaron corrects.

“He assaulted my eyes with his Exy.” Kevin insists.

“If that counted as assault, don’t you think I would have pressed charges for all the times I have had to see you dance at Eden’s?” Neil asks. “Also, you’re the one that insisted he try-out.” He reminds.

“Smiths told me he was good!” Kevin screeches.

“No, we’ve been over this Day. Smithy said he was athletic.” Nicky reminds. “Are you going to do what Jack suggested?” he asks turning to FF.

“I’d like to see significantly less of Daniel.” FF admits.

“You know he did actually commit assault, if I pee blood I’m making Kevin go buy me pads.” Matt says.

“Whatever.” Kevin says as they continued to make their way back to the dorm to get ready for the day.

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

NEXT

[shallyouobeyme]

Golden

Yandere!Diluc x Sagau!Reader

Summary: Running away from people out for your head you decide that maybe death is the best way out, seems like someone has a different opinion about that though…

! Minors Do Not Interact !

Tw: Attempted murder, false deity, Yandere behavior, dark content, kinda kidnapping, death of nature, I do not condone this, this is fantasy, imposter au (kinda)

Day 6 of my Yandere Writetober, tomorrows word is Drip, let me know if you have wishes

“Nowhere left to run,” a voice called out to you as you came to a stop at what you recognized as Starsnatch Cliff, your back turned to the legion of soldiers led by the acting grand master Jean. You had been running for hours now, trying to get away from unavoidable doom. If it wasn’t Jean and her men who killed you, it would be the archon that was secretly joining the hunt, proven by the moving traces of green you saw every time you turnt and the wind that seemingly was pushing against you wherever you ran.

This was really how you’ll die, isn’t it? After you had woken up in a game you had casually enjoyed playing and figured out that you had somehow managed to look exactly like the grand deity that the game in your world conveniently forgot to mention, you had tried everything to wake up, thinking it was a dream. It wasn’t though - it was more of a nightmare.

But maybe that was better, maybe once you died in this world, you’d come back to your reality like nothing ever happened, and if not - well, at least you wouldn’t be hunted anymore so that was all you wanted at this point.

You felt the presence of the armed men and women out for your head approaching and so you turned around, the white robe you had woken up in, snapping around you in the worsening gusts of wind. They looked so differently when you had them right in front of you, when they were made out of flesh and blood and not just out of ones and zeros. Jean was even more beautiful than in the game and Amber, Lisa and Kaeya all were so stunning that you could have spent hours just gazing at them, just enjoying how pretty they were. Not that you’d ever get that chance, because you’d be slaughtered by them in a matter of seconds.

Deciding that it was impossible for you to win a fight, you just closed your eyes and held out your arms by your sides, ready to receive the killing blow. You tried to count the seconds to calm your racing heart, you felt like you could hear someone raise their blade, but there was no blow. No searing pain, no death.

Instead, you felt heat in front of you, the air turned hotter than you thought possible and for a second you believed that Amber had decided to end your life Witch-trial style by burning you, but then the heat got farther away from you and moved towards the blood thirsty crowd. Surprised, you tried to look at what was happening, but the only thing you saw before you were suddenly pushed backwards right off of the end of the cliff was what seemed to be a bird made of fire.

And then you were falling. Falling was the first sensation you felt. Then you felt someone holding you, their grip on you tight enough to hurt in any other situation. Before you could properly process that though, the sensation of falling turnt into the sensation of gliding and everything that had happened caught up to you, making you feel very dizzy. Deciding that it didn’t matter anymore anyways, you leaned your head against the stranger’s chest and before you passed out, you could have sworn you heard a deep voice mutter ‘I’ve got you now, my grace’.

When you awoke, you were comfortable and warm, cozy actually. For a few seconds you believed that you were back at home, lying in your bed, waking up from a very bad dream. That hope shattered once you opened your eyes to see a beautifully painted, renaissance-like ceiling. You swung your feet out of the bed and found you were still wearing the white robe you had woken up in, that was something at least, but the thing that surprised you more was how your feet seemed to be tinted gold, like you had walked through ankle deep gold powder, when you tried to wipe it off you found that it seemed to be completely on your skin… if you hadn’t known better you would have thought the gold was your skin.

It was only as you tried to wipe the gold on your feet away that you noticed that your hands, palm, fingers, up to your wrists, were much the same. What was happening?

You jumped out of the bed and looked around for a mirror, luckily finding a full-body one in the corner of the room. As you came to a stop in front of it, you were even more shocked. Not only the skin on your outer extremities was golden, but your hair and your eyes had become a shining gold as well. That was definitely new.

As you mustered yourself in the mirror, the room's door opened and someone stepped in. The first thing you noticed was the red head of hair, then the clothes that you had loved to look at in the game. You turned around and found yourself confirmed. No doubt, behind you was Diluc, the dark knight hero. Was he out to kill you as well? Before you had the chance to cower in fear, the man who was even more intimidating in real life, towering over you when he was standing, was kneeling at your feet, his head practically touching the floor in what seemed to be worship.

“My grace, I welcome you to this world.”

“W-What?” You stumbled over the single word as you stepped back some more, still unsure of the intention of the man.

“Be not afraid, I don’t want to hurt you, I would never hurt you, your majesty. My brethren… they were foolish, they were blinded by the false god, your markings had not yet developed with you being freshly brought into this world. Please have mercy with them once you are ready to bring judgment upon the sinners of this world-“ Diluc gave a whole speech that seemed to be rehearsed with how nervous he seemed, but something about what he said had you questioning him.

“How do you know? That I was brought here? Everyone else seemed to think I belong here,” you asked and Diluc finally looked up at you, seemingly caught by how his eyes widened,

“Well, your grace, I-I know, because, well- The imposter who is sitting on your throne, I caught them applying golden powder on their skin, I always had my doubts, they didn’t give me the feeling I have whenever I was visited with you, the same feeling I have now, but doubting the great god is a mortal sin. I knew I needed proof first, so I found an ancient tome and it had a ritual to summon the great god, for a small price I was able to have you brought here- I knew I had to, I never knew that the knights would act like that, they would be so blinded.”

You looked at him mouth agape.

“You brought me here? It’s your fault I was almost killed?”

“It isn’t like that, your grace, I swear it wasn’t supposed to happen like this,” Diluc begged, but you just shook your head.

“This-“ you motioned around you, at him, at you, at the golden skin, “-This is crazy. I’m leaving and stop calling my grace.”

Diluc tried to protest, but you were already walking out of the room, rushing down the stairs, happy that you had some idea about the layout of the winery thanks to the game. There were some of the maids working and as soon as they saw you and your golden appearance they were on their knees in devotion, but you ignored them. Arriving at the main door, you ripped it open… and were stopped in your tracks,

Where you had expected to see the winery’s grape vines was just dead land. No plants, no grass, not even an elemental slime graced what had been a beautiful piece of nature in the game.

You heard steps quickly approaching and stopping besides you and you knew it was Diluc.

“What happened?” You whispered out in confusion and a little bit of unfounded fear.

“That was the price, bringing such an extraordinary being as yourself into our undeserving world needed an exchange,” Diluc said nonchalantly, as if it was self explanatory, as if it was no bother at all.

“But the winery, the bar?”

“Oh well, it will take a while for the crops to recover but that just means I will have more time to bask in your presence, oh your grace, how amazing it is to finally have you by my side, these other sinners don’t deserve you,” Diluc’s voice sounded weirdly lovesick and you suddenly found yourself engulfed in his arms, pulling your still shocked form into him.

“I know I’m not worthy of holding your form, but I just can't help myself, your presence… it’s intoxicating to me.”

As he held you to him and pulled you back into the house, you suddenly had the horrible feeling that maybe getting killed on top of that cliff would have been the better outcome

[courtingchaos]

Hiding

FBoy!Eddie Munson x Fem Reader

Uh oh, Eddie found your hiding place.

Warnings: Language

A/N: It’s been a while, I know. I went through a lot of ways these two would run back into each other and I liked it not being a huge thing. Just Eddie being pushy and you trying to keep a brave face.

Late summer morning blows in off the lake, a cool breeze that mingles with the bright sun climbing a cloudless sky. Another night spent at Rick’s helping Lisa and another week spent ignoring most of your life. The floating pier you’re dangling your feet off of bobs under you with the small wakes that hit the shore. The house that you desperately needed to get out of stands darkened behind you, even though you can still here Lisa giving Rick every level of hell.

He’s been a bastard, a motherfucker, a shitheel and a fucking bastard again in about 20 minutes after another little blonde was found creeping out of his basement. You’d actually been the one to see her while you put your small bag of groceries away and she had tried to pad out past you through the back door. Honestly you probably would have let her go with just a searing stare but as luck would have it, Lisa had been outback, smoking. So to say sleep had been light was an understatement while Rick was sent through the wringer and Lisa threw anything she could get her hands on.

At least you could catch a hint of fall on the back of the breeze where it rustled the leaves in the bright yellow ginkgo trees lining the walk down to the pier. You’d lit your cigarette and promptly forgotten it, tucked between your fingers that clutched the edge of the wet wood. There’s a few almost waves that slap against the platform under you when an early morning boater glides by, drowning out the crunch of steps behind you. The ripples in the water have your three hours of sleep beat and the hypnotic shimmer around your bare calves has you almost laying back to take a nap.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding.”

The last voice you’d expect at 7 am, the gravel in it betraying his own lack of sleep. You know you visibly tense but you’re not turning around to look at him, two months of avoided texts should have been a big enough signal for him. There’s maybe a quarter of your cigarette left that you end up sucking down, something to do while you continue to pretend he isn’t there.

“Gonna ignore me in person too?” Eddie steps onto the pier and it springs up.

“What are you doing here?”

“One of the guys called me, said Romeo and Juliette were at it again.” He takes a few more steps out and you still don’t turn around. “Asked me to come out and talk some sense into Rick.”

“You’re gonna have to pry Lisa off his neck.”

“Yeah, she’s taking a lap.”

That makes you turn to look back up at the house and you realize the shouting has stopped, Lisa’s Audi gone from the drive.

“Shit.” You stub out the ember on your smoke and finally drag your legs out of the water, snatching your slides when you stand up. Finally you lay eyes on him and he looks different. Old Slipknot shirt a size too big, jeans that he probably owned in high school by the amount of holes in them and terminally ill reeboks that saw better days a decade ago.

“What?”

You try to ignore him and walk away but he’s too quick for you on this thin strip of wooden slats.

“No, you don’t get away easy like that.” He grabs your arm to get you to stop and you chance falling into the water when you yank it out of his grip.

“Don’t put your fucking hands on me.”

“Why have you been ignoring me?”

“Because I don’t care.” The look you give him is dirty, your best practiced Mean Girl. You have no armor on this morning, no sharp liner or outfit that shows off your only assets. Even with your hair pulled up and grungy house clothes on you still slide into that persona like an old sweater. “Do you, Eddie?” You cock your head at him and point one of your long talons at him, one that desperately needed a fill. “You with your groupies and your two sets of friends. Why are you bothering me when you’ve got Dani and her Gucci purse? What happened to Kim?” You click your tongue at him and turn to keep walking away. “Go bother one of them.”

He doesn’t follow you until you’re well on your way up the embankment, far enough behind that he can’t hear you mumbling to yourself about him blowing up your phone. Inside is quiet except for the movement of Rick from his room. He’d sheepishly come out into the kitchen when he’d heard you come in, a hopeful look on his face that fell when he realized it wasn’t Lisa crawling back.

“Can I use your car.” You don’t ask, just stare at him until he scoffs and tells you no.

“You ran Lisa off, how am I getting home?”

“Uber for all I fucking care.” Rick runs a hand down his face, stubble scratching under his palm.

“You’re such a gentleman.”

“I never claimed to be one.” He grabs his keys off the counter and eyes you before heading back into his room and slamming the door.

Your shit is everywhere in the guest room and you sigh at yourself. Three days this time around and it looks like you’ve lived here for three years, shoes kicked under the bed and duffel bag left open and empty on the chest at the foot of the bed. There’s a short knock on the doorframe and you think maybe Rick is done being a dick but the scuffed white sneaker that comes into view tells you otherwise.

“Get out.”

“Do you need a ride?”

“Not from you, get the fuck out.” You keep picking up your work shirts and throwing them violently into your bag. Maybe he’d finally get the message.

“How’s your hand doing?” He apparently doesn’t and also avoids whatever fight you’re trying to start.

“It’s fine, get out.”

“Lisa told me you broke your fingers.” He moves into the room fully and stands at the foot of the bed looking too soft. His hair isn’t tied back this morning and it fluffs out around his head, obviously unwashed and freshly bed headed.

“Well she’s terrible at keeping secrets.” You have a handful of socks you try to drop but that hand with the still healing fingers cramps up at the most inopportune time and Eddie gets to watch you grimace and slowly unclench your fist. “Didn’t know you were keeping tabs on me.”

“Had to somehow since you still don’t know how to answer a text.”

“No I can text, I just don’t reply to you.” Still avoiding his gaze but you’ve run out of clothes to pick up so you stare at the hardwood floor and sigh. “Seriously just go. I got a ride.”

“You paid for an Uber.”

“Same thing! Why are you stalking me Munson, huh?!” You yell and round on him finally. It would seem Rick’s was the place to have it out this morning. Eddie remains unfazed when you get in his face, voice rising and fingers jabbing into his chest. “When I don’t answer ten calls and a hundred texts it means I don’t want anything to do with you! I want you gone!” You shoo him towards the door, a gesture he also ignores. “You treat me like I’m some random asshole and then expect me to drop everything because what, you’ve got feelings all of a sudden?” Your laugh cuts through the quiet in the room and you catch the flinch of his shoulders. “I don’t fuck around with nobodies who push! I had my fun and now we’re done!” Mean Girl says this to him, full force voice and a final shove with your finger to make your point clear.

Mean Girl means all of this and she’s great at being cover for you. She keeps everyone on knifes edge and keeps everyone in check and keeps everyone’s dirty little secrets. She gets to eye Eddie like a butchers case and take her pick of prime cuts. She cuts and she cuts and she stays quiet and she gets the privilege of front row seats to heartbreak and fistfights and you? You get to pretend you’re her all the time.

You’d like Eddie to stay and you’d like a ride from him. He could drive through somewhere and get you a coffee for the ride home. Maybe he’d even help you pack up your laundry and even help you start a load at your place. He could look around your apartment and glean some personality off of your things and maybe he could let you have a redo of two months ago. He could clean off your rings and your knuckles; he could get you patched up and comfortable and not get thrown out. You wouldn’t close up this time.

But this isn’t that, it isn’t anything. He’s a fling, was a fling, with a full roster already and you refuse to warm a bench for him.

“Fine.” He shrugs coolly and leaves the room in two steps, hands still tucked up into his underarms. “See you, Red.”

He doesn’t slam the door behind him this time.

It takes your driver forever to find the house, giving you enough time to finally get ahold of Lisa. She’s already basically forgotten what she was screaming about, especially since Rick turned her Amex back on an hour ago.

“So he just called to tell you that?”

“No, I called him to ask if he was going to say sorry and he said he turned it back on.”

“So it’s kind of like an apology, but not really.”

“Babe, you wouldn’t get it. We’ve never put a label on us…”

You stop listening to her try to reason her way out of it this time. Your phone buzzes and you pull it away from your ear to stare at the notification that your Uber finally arrived. You cut her off to tell you’re leaving and she blows kisses over the Bluetooth in her car. You grab your things and pound on Rick’s door before you leave and when you get onto the front porch there’s no car. A double check of your phone shows that yes they were here but the only cars in the drive are Rick’s Jeep and Eddie’s Challenger.

“Where’s my ride, Eddie?”

A jerk of his head before he opens his door and climbs in, car already idling, waiting on you.

“I’m not getting in your car.”

“I’m not gonna fuck you in it again.” He presses a button and you hear the passenger door unlock. “I’m taking you home.”

God you want to fight him and not just verbally. The ache of your fingers reminds you that you shouldn’t but the fire remains lit all the same.

“Why are you being like this?”

“Because I want to make sure you get home safe.”

He doesn’t yell or spit it at you. He says it sincerely and you feel very soft and stupid for a moment. The low car looks almost inviting in the morning light, Eddie in overly worn clothes and sleep still settled in the faint lines around his eyes. He nods again at the passenger seat and closes his door while he waits for you to decide.

It’s not long, not with your options what they are and you slide in with your bag silently.

Eddie was expecting a little more fight from you and seeing you still and silent and unarmed gives him a swooping feeling in the pit of his stomach. He punches in your address and starts the 30 minute drive and he wonders who’ll break the silence first.

“I’m sorry about last time.” You say quietly, eyes glued to the handles of your bag. He reaches out and takes it, drops it in the backseat in the hopes that you’ll look at him.

“I really was only trying to help.”

“I know.”

“It was nice, what you did for Dani-“

You snort and cross your arms over your chest, head shaking at nothing in particular. “Always about fucking Dani.”

“It was about Dani!” It’s amazing how fast the switch is, from soft words to the yelling between you two.

“What do you want from me?” The firmness behind your question gives Eddie a clue to not fuck around right now. He lets the first thing in his head out of his mouth and flinches at your look of scorn.

“I want to be friends.”

“Friends?”

“Is that so unbelievable?”

“Yes.” A matter of fact nod of your head. “One hundred percent. You have yet to show that you even enjoy being around me so this?” You circle an open palm at him, “This is why I’m confused why you’re playing knight suddenly.”

He’s not really sure either but it makes sense. That first night was harmless fun but then he’d stare at your contact info, racking his brains for something to text you for. A pickup or a party, anything that didn’t make him feel like a teenager again, too afraid to ask out the cool girl. But now those ideas are moot as you’re sitting in his car without any of your façade, willingly letting him take you home.

“I just…” He won’t say it because it wouldn’t be true. He doesn’t think it would be true.

You’ve become a thing he looks forward to during his nights playing dealer, a welcomed distraction that no longer felt like just a distraction. Eddie cares what you think about him, from his clothes to the girls to his fucking car, but he’s spent so long avoiding those thoughts it feels foreign in his head.

“Can we start over?”

“This conversation or-“

“I could use some more friends.”

That makes you chuckle, a puff of air blown through your nose. “I thought you said you had enough?”

“Well I miscounted.”

The tension bleeds away with the faint music, the new silence warm again in its place. There’s a smile playing at the corner of your lips and he’s suddenly determined to make it grow.

“Since we’re friends now…”

“Mm.” A fraction of growth while you play with your phone.

“I was thinking we could hang out sometime. Just us.” Stopped at the red light he looks over at you just as that smile drops before it could ever form.

“Eddie…”

“Christ, what? I can’t ask you to hang out?”

You give him a heavy look and he almost misses the light turning green.

“You’re still just trying to fuck.”

“Maybe I’m trying to ask you out!” His hand slaps the steering wheel out of frustration and he passes the car in front of him, speeding unnecessarily.

“You’re asking me out.”

“Not now!” He sounds like a whining child, even to his own ears. He can’t look back over at you, refuses to see whatever derision or disgust you’re gracing him with. He drives in silence and the ruined mood he created yet again while you sink further into your seat. He’s turning into your complex before he’s ready to let you out, a lot of dumb emotions still sitting like lead in his gut. His phone burns against his leg with all the unread messages from the morning and not for the first time does he wonder why he’s even trying to do this.

The door unlocks and his attention snaps over to you before you can open the door.

“I’m serious.” He blurts out and drops a hand on your knee that you immediately stare at. “About the date.”

You freeze under his touch, such a change in your normal response to him and he feels a twinge of trepidation. You stay wound up around yourself but there’s a softening of your shoulders and you don’t push his hand away so he takes it as a small victory.

“One stipulation.”

“What?”

“You need to delete their numbers.”

He doesn’t need to ask who’s. He stares past you at something outside, eyes unfocused while he chews on his lip. “I mean that’s-“

“If you want to take me on a date, a real date, then you’re going to treat me like I’m not a random hook up.”

The car idling is loud in the silence that follows and Eddie thinks it’s a little pathetic that he can’t find words, let alone lie to you right now. Normally his silver tongue gets him out of situations like this with nothing more than a whisper and a practiced grin.

“Of course baby, I’ll delete them.”

But he doesn’t know for sure if he will. You give him such a tired look and he doesn’t want to be the reason you look so defeated but he knows himself, the kind of shit he pulls.

“I uh, I don’t want to make a promise I might not keep.” Honesty wrapped around a shitty reality.

You huff softly and reach in the back to grab your duffle, carefully swinging it to rest on your lap before you exit his car.

“Seriously? A few numbers?” You ask and he can hear what you’re really trying to say, ‘Aren’t we a little old for this?’

“I don’t want to lie to you.”

“Doesn’t get you a date just because you don’t want to.” The door opens and the bright morning light spills into the tinted interior. You climb out of his car and lean back in for your keys and he has a distinct memory of playing pool with you. “I hope you grow up some day Eddie.”

You don’t slam the door like he expected, like the last time you were in his car. You don’t walk away with a switch in your step and you don’t look back at him with a cheeky wave. Eddie watches you climb the wooden steps slowly, tiredly, to the top landing and he watches you unlock your door and disappear from view.

[starg1rlie]

𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮

⟡ rating. fluff ( general audience )

⟡ prompt. "calla lily" ( getting married to character )

notes. joined ying's lil' milestone event , hehe , hopefully this doesn't botch on me . . . personally , weddings to me are so vv cute and magical !! ( also pardon if the wedding vows don't match the ones that you're used to , i just did it from memory ) reblogs and likes are appreciated ! | wc. 852 words ( 4,742 characters )

⟡ feat. various x fem! reader ( tartaglia, ayato, diluc, alhaitham, zhongli, thoma )

ㅤㅤWhat a feeling it is to be wed to someone, to be linked to the love of your life, to feel such joy and happiness as you look into your spouse’s eyes and know that your unconditional love is reciprocated, maybe even multiplied by tenfold. Marriage. Wedding. Vows. 

ㅤㅤYou liked to replay that night, the night he proposed to you, in your head as the two of you began wedding preparations. Thinking of the engagement ring sliding down your finger as you made plans for the wedding cake (he preferred a cake with the sweetness level lowered accordingly to match his palette), thinking of the way he swept you up in his arms while you were being fitted for your dress, thinking about the amount of unbridled affection and love in his eyes as you prepared yourself to do a practice walk down the aisle you’d walk on come next morning.

ㅤㅤ“You’re beautiful,” he murmured that night as he wrapped you up in a blanket and pulled you into his warm embrace. “You’re amazing.” He then pressed a kiss to your cheek. “You’re all that I could ever want or need.” He burrowed his face into the crook of your neck, warm breath fanning out against your collarbone, eliciting a giggle from you. “You’re my everything.”

ㅤㅤYou remembered quite vividly how happy you felt in that moment, simply you and him, tangled limbs under the bedsheets, thinking of the future that you two would share together. You remembered linking your hand with his, fingers lacing through his own, and staring into his eyes, his dazzling and mesmerizing eyes. You remembered watching him sleep, head propped up by one hand, the other still clasping your fiance’s, watching his chest rise and fall steadily with each intake of breath, admiring the curve of his jawline, drinking in every detail of his face, his body, his entire being so it would be permanently seared into your brain. 

ㅤㅤAnd so when the fateful day finally came, when you slipped into the wondrous dress your friends had picked out with you one night, when you held onto the bouquet of flowers in your hands tightly, when you adjusted the veil so that it would obscure your face (he’d chastise you for wearing it, covering your beautiful face from him, and you’d simply brush it off with a “it’s tradition”), you felt ready. Actually, scratch that, you felt more than ready. The procession began; someone was playing the wedding march on the piano, a child (no doubt Jean and Lisa’s; they recently adopted an adorable little girl) was wailing before she was soothed by her mothers, and even a few sniffles and tearful gazes. What a wonderful day it was to be married, to be wed to the love of your life.

ㅤㅤ“Do you, (Name), take this strapping young man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until parted by death?” the priest inquired, looking up from his book. 

ㅤㅤYou nodded, murmuring the words “I do” as the man proceeded, asking the same question to your soon-to-be husband.

ㅤㅤ“And do you, sir, take this lovely young lady to be your lawfully wedded wife?” 

ㅤㅤHe looked at you for a moment, a smile flickering over his lips, before nodding firmly. “I do.”

ㅤㅤ“And so, by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you, husband, and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”

ㅤㅤA cheer rose up from the people seated within the quaint little chapel he’d picked out, everyone rising to their feet and clapping loudly. You turned from your now-husband to wave at them all, blowing kisses towards everyone before turning back to face him. 

ㅤㅤ“Hey,” he said softly, quick to pull you in by the waist, using his free hand to push up your veil to get a better look at your face.

ㅤㅤ“Hey,” you replied with a small laugh, tugging off the elbow-length gloves you were currently wearing, placing a hand delicately against his cheek, cupping it and rubbing a thumb over the skin soothingly.

ㅤㅤ“So. We’re married now, huh?” He said with a low chuckle, that smirk never leaving his face as he slipped his hand under your chin, tilting you up closer to his face. “Who woulda thought? If someone told me ten years ago that I would marry my best friend, I would believe them to have rocks in their head.”

ㅤㅤYou tittered. “Yeah, I wouldn’t believe them either. But here we are.”

ㅤㅤ“Here we are,” he repeated, fondness clear in his tone. His eyes darted down to your lips, ignoring the ongoing chants of “kiss him!”, instead, initiating the kiss first, turning his head to angle his lips properly, locking against yours. The cheers rose again once more, noise amplified even louder, ringing in your ears as he swept you up in his arms, true bridal-style.

ㅤㅤ“Shall we go, wife?” he said with a grin.

ㅤㅤYou beamed at him, pecking his cheek. “We shall, husband.”

📮 tagging. no one yet ! fill out this form if you want to be tagged (@i23kazu )

[gothushi]

this is taken directly from what happened in my very first rob ai story before i reset it. fem!reader.

you’re clammy, dirt and blood coat your skin, and this.. feeling of pure relief floods over you and rob when you stumble out onto the dirt path where the jeep had been left parked. it’s dark, probably somewhere around 11:00pm, but you both knew you had to be so close to the car you didn’t want to stop yet, and thank god rob’s instincts were right.

the dino attack happened the night before last, and there have been no sign of the others besides the bloody remains of lisa in camp when you went back to scavenge supplies. two days of hiking in nearly complete silence, both of you too tense to talk, holding each others hand so hard you thought fingers would snap as you hiked. the plan is to get the fuck out of here and back to civilization to get help, but for now.. you both need rest.

you’re leaning against the car as rob opens the backseat door, folding the seats down to be flat, shoving his pack to the floor and taking yours before crawling inside and holding his hand out with a quiet “c’mon”

with all other doors locked (not that it’d provide much safety against the real threat) you shut the door as quiet as you can and then move to lay your exhausted body beside his. he’s laid on his back, dark eyes watching you as you attempt to get comfortable. the only real comfort is the cool night air compared to the day’s scorching heat.

“y’okay..?” he asks ever so softly, voice barely a rasp. you turn again, back to him because he’s so close to you, his body heat evident. (the prior night you shared it with him, huddled together at the base of a tree trunk atop a hill, tonight.. this is different)

“yeah jus’… sore. tired.” is your only answer, feeling him shift behind you until his chest is to your back.

“this okay?”

“…yeah.”

minutes pass in silence, as silent as the surrounding jungle nightlife can be, before his hand snakes over your waist, arm slowly looping around you. as if he’s.. hesitant. you swallow, breathing a bit shaky, heart beginning to pound in your chest.

“this.. okay?” he asks again, a slightly different tone to his voice now, lips close to your ear.

it takes you a moment to answer, feeling the way his hand splays over your stomach, it makes your thighs press together. your head turns, eyes focused in the dark to barely see his face, god it’s hard to see in here.. “I..” you swallow, can feel how close he is, he’s right there.. just..

his lips crash into yours, taking them in a searing kiss that has you immediately yielding to his advances and parting your lips. tongue licking against yours, his hand moves from your stomach up to cradle your jaw as your body twists, laying on your back now. that throbbing between your legs has already begun, incessant, has you squirming your hips.

minutes are lost as you make out, absolutely desperate despite your location. both of you make soft whines, pants, needy little noises until he detaches from your mouth to trail down your jaw and neck. it’s gross, you’re clammy after two days worth of sweat and grime on you, desperately missing the feel of the river you bathed in days prior, but rob doesn’t seem to care. in fact, he likes it. he inhales deeply, groaning low in his chest as he licks at your skin, sucking a mark somewhere on the flesh. hands tangle into his hair, pulling that damn tie out so the locks are loose for you to touch and tug. it makes him whine as his hands grope you, grasping at your tits over your tank top, pinching at your nipples. it draws a whimper from you, and you can feel him shifting overtop you, your thighs parting as he grinds his aching length down into you.

the actions make you gasp, trying to be relatively quiet, hands tugging at his hair as he kisses the front of your throat. his nose nudges your chin as he blindly makes his way back up, beginning to pant as he whispers “are you– is this okay? do you wan–“

“yes.” you interrupt. he only needs to ask once. you wouldn’t ever dream of denying rob. not even like this. it pulls a huffed moan from him as he rolls his hips down again. his body heat leaves your chest, movement being made as he sits up on his knees the best he can. slightly hunched over, his hands tear at the button on your cargo pants, nearly ripping it open and tugging the zipper down. he realizes just how fucking cramped this car is, how un-ideal this entire situation is, and gives a rough swear before he’s pushing your knees to your chest.

the stretch hurts, your legs sore after days of hiking consistently, groaning a little as he yanks harshly to get your pants and underwear to mid thighs. it’s desperate, the way you vaguely hear him suck at his fingers before they run through your folds. that first touch ignites a fire in you, one of your arms looping around your knees and the other covering your mouth. he wastes no time to push in with one finger, feeling how absolutely soaked you are as it no doubt starts to run down your skin, coating his knuckles. god he wishes he could fucking see. only a minute of that before he adds another, moaning with you as he praises “there y’go… fuck that feels good huh?” you can hear that little grin on his face but you’re too exhausted, too horny to retort with attitude.

“yes,” it leaves you in one breath, “fu– ah! rob.. please, just fuck me”

“you sure?”

“don’t be so-“ a slight whiny growl leaves you as he curls his fingers, your thighs trying to spread despite the restrictions of your pants. the reply dies on your tongue and is replaced with another, “please, yes i’m sure”

his fingers leave you, and once again you hear that faint sucking sound. fuck. it’s followed by the clanking of his belt. twisting to try and look down at him, you can see the faint outline of his body. your eyes fight to make out any details, the jeep roof shields of any moonlight you previously had, so all you can do is make out the shuffling of the way he pushes his pants and boxers down just below his balls, low on his hips. skin on skin as he rubs over his cock, and if only you could see the way his brows furrow and his lips part. you’re about to complain before his fingers find you again, blindly guiding himself so he can push his cock into you. he breaches your entrance and good fucking lord.. his hands press onto your thighs for support as he slides in nice and slow. a moan leaves you both, your own thighs shaking as his hips meet your ass.

he’s so fucking deep. just the perfect size to drive you nuts, fits into you like a damn glove. he drags himself back out with a little noise, like he wants to protest his own actions, before rolling back in. this time you both whine, and he pants, “you feel so fuckin’ good, holy– shit.” his hands grip painfully onto the backs of your thighs where you skin is bare, blunt dirty nails pressing in to leave marks no doubt. you yourself, may actually be on another planet. your heart pounds in your chest, hands trembling behind your knees and on your mouth, muffling your noises the best you can. his movements are slow, dragging his length nearly all the way out before rolling back in until you feel his balls on your ass, pulling away again to repeat. he’s shaking, trying to hold back, like he needs..

you uncover your mouth. “rob–“ it’s a raspy plea, desperate, “don’t make me beg. fuck me.”

it’s fortunately all the invitation he needs to groan low in his chest, adjust his knees, and then start smacking his hips into yours. it pulls a sharp noise from you and you rush to cover your mouth again. it isn’t the wisest decision to start screaming in the jungle at night.

he fucks hard, dull smack of flesh on flesh and the lewd slick noise of your juices where you meet. it’s nasty, soaking wet where you meet, both of you clammy and beginning to sweat, his grasp slipping on your thighs before adjusting even tighter, so tight he’ll leave bruises. your own muffled moans and whines spur him on, and the noises he makes… god. he’s so fucking hot. he makes this whiny little sigh a lot, like he’s out of breath but can’t help but moan. he also growls, low in his chest, like he’s angry. if only you could fucking see, you have no doubt that the expression he’s making would make you cum instantly. his hands shift and he grabs your ass, folding you deeper in on yourself. this pulls a whine of pain from your throat, quickly followed by an appreciative moan as he leans over you more, fucking down hard as you feel his head by your calf. he’s staring down at you, you know he is even though neither of you can see. his nails scratch at your skin, and after another few moments he’s shoving your legs to the side. your body twists and you yelp, hand reaching out for him as he keeps fucking you, lips finding yours again.

exchanging whiny little noises, desperate babbles, you fuck. “you feel so good” “fuck– rob, right there” “i’ve got you- nnhah- so fucking wet” “wanted this so bad, feels so good” “please” “please, please, please!”

it’s all a desperate flurry of actions, hips pounding into your ass, a mess of slick dripping down your skin onto the seat beneath you two. the area above his cock smacks against your clit with every thrust down, sending you hurdling towards that peak. “can i–“

“yes, god, please,” absolutely zero hesitation.

“oh– fuck-“ it leaves him in a growled moan as he cums in you, throbbing, hips rolling sensually as he feels your own orgasm crash over you too. your hands dig into his back, in his hair, lips on his to muffle the desperate panting whines leaving you.

the steamy feeling of your panting breaths washes over both your faces, and he buries himself into your neck to press comforting kisses onto the sweaty flesh there. he licks at your skin again and it makes arousal shoot up your spine before it dies away to exhaustion again. he sits up, slowly drags himself from where you’re absolutely soaked, a mess of his cum and yours dripping from your pussy as you now whine at the feeling. you can’t even lower your legs yet, twisting onto your back again with knees to your chest, held by one of his hands, as his other searches for his pack. a moment of struggling, a curse and his hand leaving you, you laugh softly.

“shut up.” he grumbles, but it’s amused. a zipper sounds as he finds it and pulls whatever fabric he feels first out, folding it over your hand to start wiping you off, “you okay?”

“i can’t feel my legs.”

he barks a quiet laugh, “besides that..”

you know what he’s asking. was that okay, this. is this okay. how are you feeling. you smile to yourself in the dark, “yeah.. i liked that. this.” it seems to satisfy him as he cleans you off the rest of the way, then himself. tossing the fabric aside to the floor, he does up his own pants before pulling yours back down, blindly fumbling with the button before doing it back up and lowering your legs again. his hand massages your thigh in a silent apology when you groan in pain, crawling back to lay beside you once more. he nuzzles in and peppers kisses on your collarbone, your neck, up over your cheek until you turn your head to meet his lips in a sweet, lazy kiss. he nuzzles back into your neck after, arms holding you protectively, both of you too tired to talk. your hand cradles his jaw, feeling his facial hair, as you both drift off to sleep.

[lilacsilver-writes]

More Lisa Frankenstein fic from yours truly! [Also, as a reminder, I am still accepting LF prompts/requests]

[Warning for brief discussion of burns and other fire-related injuries]

The last thing Lisa remembers is searing pain and the crackle of growing flames, and then...then there’s nothing.

The first thing she knows is the sound of a voice she’s never heard before but could never mistake for anyone else’s. It’s him, her love, and he’s brought her back from the soundless-nerveless-darkness of the other side.

She remembers the pain, and is surprised that she doesn’t hurt now. Being burned alive should do that, she thinks, even if she was gone for a little while. There should be some pain.

But all she can feel is the lightest press of his hand against – not her skin. Maybe not her skin. Whatever it is, it’s rough and unyielding.

“Lisa,” he says, and she wants to smile. Her name on his lips is the sweetest sound she’s ever heard. She tries to open her eyes, to look at him, and maybe she gets halfway there.

But.

But.

He makes a quiet, horrified sound.

“Your...your eyes,” he says. “They’re...”

He doesn’t finish. He doesn’t need to. She knows. The fire cooked them as thoroughly as it did the rest of her, and he’ll have to find her new ones.

Fortunately, the two of them have gotten pretty good at taking what they need.

[bullet-prooflove]

Exs: Jeff Clarke x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @witches-unruly-heart @telepathay @iworldlywriter @caffeinatedwoman @winchesterszvonecek @whateversomethingbruh @burningpeachpuppy @upsteadlogic @skyesthebomb @neapolitantoebeans @olymosity @stxrryswvrld @courtney-elizabeth93 @stelacole @kabloswrld

It isn’t often you drop into the fire station. Sometimes there’s a crossover, Jeff ends up at Chicago Med or you have to drop something off but you don’t generally stray onto each other’s territory. You’re both professionals after all.

Unfortunately it’s been a hectic morning. Rocco had swallowed one of Jeff’s socks, which meant a visit to the vet. Jeff had had to bring him to work because he had to be supervised for the next twenty four hours and there was an overlap in your schedules.

It’s when you pull onto the street outside the firehouse that you see Jeff and Lisa out on the courtyard. They’ve been divorced over a year now, separated for another before that. He’d told you the story, he’d been back barely a month before she’d walked out on him. He was falling apart after his last tour and instead of supporting him, she’d packed her stuff and left. It’s only afterwards that he’d discovered she’d been seeing another man.

You can tell he’s livid from his stance. His back is ramrod straight, his muscles tense and rigid. He clasps his hands behind his back, one hand gripping his wrist as if he’s terrified he’s going to take a swing at her. There’s a moment of indecision on your part because this conversation it looks private but you can tell that Jeff’s about five seconds from losing his temper. You’ve seen it happen once before when a guy laid hands on you in the Emergency Room, and the signs are there now as you approach the two of them.

“Let’s just spend some time together.” You hear Lisa say and it riles something deep inside of you.

You aren’t a possessive by nature but you are protective and Lisa, she has no idea of the damage she did to Jeff’s psyche, how he shut down completely after she left, how he couldn’t trust, how he isolated himself because he felt worthless, broken.

It’s only being here at the firehouse that changed those things, finding people who accepted him, who cared about him. He started to open up again after that, adjust to life as a civilian.

“I would rather eat glass.” He tells her, his tone fierce as he speaks. “You destroyed me Lisa, you don’t get to come back now because you’re feeling lonely.”

It’s then that he sees you, your hands tucked in your pockets as you step towards him. His eyes are a furious shade of blue, wild and torrent like the sea in a storm. He doesn’t want you to see this, to him like this. Being around Lisa flicks a switch in his brain, it makes him angry, dark, vengeful.

Lisa follows his gaze, her eyes coming to rest on you. You see the moment of realisation, she looks between you and Jeff before she crosses her arms over her chest.

“He’ll never love you.” Lisa tells you as she begins to walk away. “He isn’t capable of it.”

Jeff flinches at the words, they strike like bullets, searing through his chest. He wants to tell you it’s not true, that he cares deeply for the people in his life but the words they just won’t leave his lips because Lisa has this way of getting in his head, of messing with him.

“Your ex is a piece of work.” You tell him as the two of you watch Lisa climb into her car, slamming the door shut behind her.

“Yea.” He says with a sigh, rubbing his palm over the back of his neck. “I don’t like what she brings out in me.”

“I have an ex like that too.” You find yourself telling him. “Back in St Louis. It’s was like a needle in my brain everytime he opened his mouth. I hated the person I was when I was around him.”

Jeff tilts his head towards you, his eyebrows furrowing. It’s the first time you’ve mentioned the reason you left Missouri, he’d assumed it was the position at Med but now he can tell there’s more to the story.

“Tell me about it?” He asks you, because he thinks you might just be the only person in the world who actually understands the rawness that Lisa brings out of him.  

You link your arm through his, guiding him gently back towards the firehouse. The scent of your perfume floods his senses and already he feels the fight ebbing out of him. He doesn’t understand how you do this, how your presence has the ability to sooth him, calm him.

“His name was Elliot,” You begin as you walk slowly towards the firehouse. “And he was an idiot…”

Love Jeff? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[genshin-scenarios]

Chapter 4

Reembarking Starlight Masterlist

Characters: Paimon, Kaeya, Jean, Lisa, Venti

Chapter 3 <-

-> Chapter 5

“No small amount of people witnessed your fight to defend the city. If I knew such a warrior was within Mondstadt’s walls, I would’ve picked you up sooner.” Kaeya pushes open the door. His entire demeanour has a disarming charm to it, even without factoring in his familiar face. 

The golden afternoon illuminates Jean’s office as the Acting Grandmaster gestures for you to relax. “The Knights of Favonius would like to thank you for your help. I’m not sure what we would’ve done had you not driven Dvalin away from the city.”

“Stormterror, the people are already calling him.” Lisa sighs with a hand cupping her cheek. “I hope they haven’t forgotten that he’s also the Dragon of the East.” She explains that she’s tracked down the source of Dvalin’s power, and by cutting off their links, the remaining storm clouds will clear. 

“Could I ask you to join our mission?” Jean asks. “Outrider Amber has informed me about your situation and vouched for your skill. The Knights of Favonius will do our best to assist you in finding your friend once this is over, if you’re able to assist.”

“So I’ll accompany Amber and the others to three temples,” You recount from Jean’s explanation, “While you go to the one in the east?” 

“Yes. I must see for myself if he’s consuming his own powers to attack the city, and figure out why.” Noticing Lisa’s worry, Jean extends a capable smile. “We will tackle the issue at its source and report back later. I trust in the strength of my knights.”

With that final command, the group disperses, branching out to the sacred places of the Four Winds—once guardians of Mondstadt who have now fallen into slumber, just as their archon has.

-

After running around the entire day to clear out the temples, you’re nothing short of exhausted as you sheathe your blade and brace yourself against the interior walls of the last domain, waiting on Kaeya to interrogate an abyss mage not-so-gently. 

Between this, Amber’s dynamite, and Lisa’s electrocution, you’ve gotten a pretty clear idea of what it might be like to have the knights as an enemy.

“No wonder Mondstadt has been able to keep the Fatui at bay.” Paimon shakes her head. “If even their librarian is capable of this, we’d better be more careful about anyone who has the word favonius in their job.”

You decide not to tell Paimon about their other staff, for now. Or the fact that a favonian maid could demolish the walls of any building if required.

“With that taken care of, the storm should disappear soon.” Kaeya announces, sheathing his weapon. “Perhaps you can return and report to Jean first. I’d like to investigate the ruins for more clues before I go.”

-

The moment the Traveler is gone, Kaeya's gaze sharpens at a corner of the room. 

“The hilichurls alone couldn't have organised such an ambush.” Kaeya watches an abyss mage appear with a low drawl. “But neither could you…”

Without ceremony, the monster begins to summon a ritual circle with its staff. Bubbles boil from the ground.

But if not the mages, then who?

A column of fire strikes into the room like serpents, followed by a dark-clad figure who grabs the hydro abyss mage by the mask, hurtling it against the ground. 

For all the years that have passed, Kaeya supposes that the one thing Diluc never grew out of was his dramatic flair. 

“Aggressive as always,” Kaeya watches as Diluc slams his claymore in another searing attack. Boots step against the ground. A dangerous, radiating heat. “But I suppose I should be glad I'm not on the other end of that blade. Should I ask how my dear brother has been doing?”

“Were you hoping to talk it to death?” The redhead huffs. The creature thumps on the floor, unconscious. After taking a moment to study the abyssal script left on the corner of the walls, Diluc turns to Kaeya. “...I didn't know that the Knights of Favonius have started to outsource help.”

“You mean the Traveler.” Kaeya tilts his head, having expected Diluc to broach the topic of the Abyss or Fatui instead. “They must've made quite an impression to be mentioned by you. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you sound disappointed that we got to them first.”

“I have no idea what you're talking about.” Diluc sighs, pulling up the hood of his cloak. It feels like you appear every time he's investigating something. 

Just what other secrets do you have, tucked behind your back?

-

You arrive at a conversation between Jean and a Fatui diplomat, brimming with electricity in the air.

“The Fatui would be more than happy to solve—”

“Are you suggesting we slay the dragon?” Jean’s terse objection reaches your ears. You've never heard her voice so sharp before, authority held high. “Stormterror or not, the dragon is still one of our nation’s symbols. The Knights of Favonius are more than capable of handling the situation without the Fatui's help.”

The door swings open, allowing a diplomat in purple to slink away. Jean sighs, greeting you with an apologetic smile after you duck in. “The Fatui are trying to put pressure on us. Amber has given me her report already, so let’s wait for Lisa to join…”

Once everyone is settled, you give Jean a rundown of the mission and broach the topic of the teardrops.

“It seems to be full of impurities…” Lisa comes to take a better look. “I’ll take this in for further analysis— Ouch!”

“Lisa?!” Paimon rushes over in concern.

“The crystal seems to react to visions.” Lisa winces, handing it back to you. “Perhaps it’d be best for the Traveler to hold onto it for now. Despite their ability to manipulate anemo, they don’t seem to share the same qualities as us.”

Jean studies you for a second, her expression a mix of curiosity and awe. “Then I’m afraid we’ll have to request for your continued assistance—please also accept the title of Honorary Knight, and the gratitude of the Acting Grand Master.”

You mimic her action, placing a hand atop your heart. “I’ll do my best to help!”

To think that you'd start your term as the Honorary Knight by breaking and entering the Cathedral… Should you first try to borrow the Holy Lyre the proper way?

-

“...Well, that was embarrassing.” You shake your head, leaning your elbows against the railings that overlook the church’s plaza. “That Sister looked at me like I was mad!”

“To be fair, she didn’t say no.” Paimon tries to comfort you. “...Just that you needed three signatures, from three different directors… But she didn’t ask why you needed it, which is a good sign!”

“Looks like that’s as far as my title will get me.” You sulk. While you didn't have high hopes for getting the lyre early, you'd forgotten how mortifying it could be to spout nonsense without someone else doing the talking. 

“Maybe there are other leads related to Barbatos,” Paimon suggests, before she does a double-take. “Isn’t that the bard from the woods?”

She’s right. Performing for a crowd in front of his own statue is Venti, whose eyes are shut with a gentle smile. The audience disperses after a round of applause, giving you the chance to step in.

“Oh?” Aqua-green eyes brighten in recognition. “You’re the one who scared Dvalin away that day!”

“Dvalin?” Paimon repeats in surprise. “You say that name as if you’re close.”

“You could say that we are.” He laughs. “My name is Venti. Third-time winner of the ‘Most Popular Bard in Mondstadt’ in a row! To what do I owe the pleasure?”

You and Paimon introduce yourselves, apologising about the other day. “We didn’t mean to run in like that… but since you’re here, I thought I should ask you about these?”

You reach your hand out, showing Venti the same teardrop from Jean’s office. Paimon gasps at its glistening blue sheen.

She urges you to check your backpack. “Is it just the one?”

“All of them have changed colour.” You blink in confusion. Even when you’d tried to purify it before, it never worked until now. Did it have something to do with the timing?

“Dvalin’s anguish has brought him to tears…” A furrow creases Venti’s brow. “You’ve found more of them?”

“Yes, around different spots in Mondstadt.” You watch his expression carefully. “So you do know more?”

“Well… I suppose so.” Cupped in his hands is another scarlet crystal. It seems like there's a lot on his mind. “Could you try purifying this one as well?”

The moment it floats onto your palm, the teardrop begins to glow brightly. A refreshing rush of power flows through you, turning the gem a healthy, azure-blue.

A flicker of surprise crosses Venti’s eyes before he shifts into studying you. “Your abilities are remarkable… Perhaps with this, it'll be possible to save Dvalin.”

“Save him? From what?” Paimon asks. 

But instead of answering, Venti's already preparing to leave. Like a poet struck with inspiration, he departs with a renewed spring in his step.

“Where are you going?!” Paimon calls after him in confusion.

“To the symbol of Mondstadt’s Hero!” Venti looks over his shoulder. “Time is of the essence, so I must take my leave for now.”

Before you know it, he's gone like a leaf in the wind. But the archon’s smile lingers on your mind—could he tell that you too, knew more than you were letting on?

Regardless, his farewell comment was a clear invitation to follow. Next: Vanessa’s Tree.

[davycoquette]

Find the Word Tag

Thanks so much for the tag, @marlowethelibrarian! The words you chose were, um

these snippets are almost all bonks

BURN

“Look up. Now.”

He did. He tried to focus on the soldier’s eyebrows, then his nose, his mouth. It didn’t matter. The laser burn seared his eyes, which wept instantly. But it wasn’t like staring into the sun, as he’d imagined. He didn’t experience the urge to close his eyes or look away.

Context: Futuristic setting. Character has been approached by militant police force with augmented peeper-scanners, apparently. This is pretty old, but it was an interesting find for me when I searched the word!

He gives a Mona Lisa smile and says, “It’s better this way, isn’t it?” He cleansed his dialect of its Smoky Mountain flavor long ago, about the time he burned the prints off his fingertips.

Context: Shiloh don't got no fingerprintz

Ruck Ward does not have the premonition the barmaid has, but he feels the phantom burn of their eyes on him. Maybe his time has come.

Context: Gee whillikers I sure like to burn people with other people's eyeballs. (Classic old west saloon scene.)

DROWN

Context: Trick has a really fucked up dream while in the hospital after getting creamed by a Miata.

A merry-go-round. He was the only one riding. Mountain lions with their faces frozen in idiotic rictuses bounded around him, paws stretched out, backs saddled, impaled by swirled poles. 

Trick reached down and tangled his fingers in the mane under him. He imagined a speckled horse, broad back between his legs, clown music fragmented by splintering bone.

He dropped his head, chin against his collarbone, blinking to clear the chaotic swimming of his vision. His hands were full of orangey hair. He turned them over, gripping it in wads. Bore his thighs against the saddle, let blood drip from his nostril into the carroty frizz. His brain was full of grinding bone; it drowned out everything else.

His hands drooped apart, revealing a human neck. A silky dress with a lacy rim. The silhouette of a bitchin’ mullet below him. Under his saddle, the frame of an impossibly tiny man hunched over underneath him, poked through with the glitzy gold pole.

Trick woke up thrashing, and narrowly avoided kicking the nurse assigned to him in the jaw.

SUFFOCATE

Context AND !!!CONTENT WARNING!!!: Oh no, this one's fucked up too! Shady has turned into a werewolf and is eating his sister in the root cellar while their older brother guards the door. No one should read this, honestly; I don't even know what kind of content warning to slap on it. It's a family of deranged, deeply isolated moonshiners in the 1920s.

She says, “Oh, Shady,” a little louder. Argent is aware of something else — something quaking his chest like a winter thunderstorm. Deafeningly silent, suffocating. And his sister is saying, “Oh, Shady,” and her voice is growing higher and louder, the words coming closer together before they wrench apart into a scream every bit as animal as a bobcat’s cry out in the woods. The hand that’s not gripping the shotgun dives into his pants and he shudders the door from the outside as the screams intensify then gargle and sputter into silence.

CHOKE

Context: Shiloh has a poem written for him read aloud to him and thinks deranged thoughts about it idk every single one of these words has brought forth such unhinged writing snippets y'all please don't stop liking me lmfao

Not in a hundred years would he have thought he would receive poetry; that he would be anybody’s muse. And maybe that wasn’t exactly what was going on, but it was the way he chose to look at it. And, and! maybe it was about Shiloh stabbing him, and fucking him, and devouring his heart, but that was their love language. Not so much these days, thankfully, but that was how it all started. He still felt desperate to sink his teeth in deeper. He'd love to carve initials on his heart, or just choke it down and lock it inside himself. Hold it for him; keep it safe and coyote-temperature until the end.

Taglist:

@albatris @capnmachete @harmonic-melodii @illarian-rambling @michellekarnold

@nathaniel-zellos

@sableglass

@saturnine-saturneight

Your words are:

SHINE, DELICATE, TEETH, SCREAM

Also I know some of y'all have already done this one! Please feel free to ignore, or do it again with the new words. ❤

[do-it-for-the-fandom]

Types of kisses: (4) "I don't want you to go" kisses.

Early season 5.

"You sure you don't want to come with?" Kate called out from the bedroom.

Rick sat at his desk staring at the blindingly white blank document on his laptop screen and groaned. He wanted to go with her, but he knew he shouldn't. He'd had been procrastinating lately - too much! And it was well past time for him to knuckle down and get some actual work done.

But it was Sunday morning, Alexis and his Mother were gone for the weekend and Kate... well, she had made herself so comfortable in his home, in his bed, in nothing but his old Def Leppard concert tee - really, who could blame him for not being able to focus?

She walked into the office, still doing up the buttons of her dark, floral blouse.

"Ryan and Espo won't be there so we can even carpool," she joked. She fastened the last of her buttons and looked up to find Castle watching her, pouting. "What?"

"It's like putting a flowery sheet over the Mona Lisa," he complained.

Kate smiled, shook her head. "I don't think it would be very professional of me to show up to a crime scene in my underwear, Castle."

She picked up her father's watch from her small pile of belongings that she kept on the corner shelf, and began to secure it around her wrist. Rick stood, walked around his desk to join her by the bookshelves.

"Admit it," he said as he wrapped his arms around her waist. "You hate that you had to put on underwear."

Her jaw dropped slightly as a spark of modesty rushed to her cheeks and painted them a subtle shade of pink, but she recovered quickly. She gently pressed her teeth into her bottom lip and looped her arms around Rick's neck.

"Who said I put them on?" she teased in a low, sultry voice.

Rick practically growled as he surged forward and claimed her mouth in a long, searing kiss.

Her fingers combed through his hair as she matched his enthusiasm, kissed him back; hot and ravenous and - despite the hours they'd already spent indulging their every desire - desperate for more.

"I have to go," she said breathlessly as she reluctantly broke away from Rick's kiss.

Her words did little to deter him, though, and he began pressing feather-light kisses along her jaw.

"Mmhmm," he hummed noncommittally.

She pressed her palm to his cheek, forced him to look at her with the intention of telling him to behave. But when she saw the shameless need in his darkened eyes, she pulled him back to her without a second thought.

Rick smiled as he kissed her and she felt his chuckle reverberate in his throat.

"I'm serious," she said in between kisses.

"Stop kissing me, then," he mumbled against the hard press of her lips.

She moaned her detest of that idea, but did what she knew she should. After one last long, languid stroke of her tongue she pulled away.

She reached for the shelf again, picked up the chain that held her mother's ring. When Rick took it from her hands and moved to stand behind her, she gathered her hair to one side so that he could fasten the chain for her.

"Will you come back when you're done?" he asked quietly, hopefully, as he clasped the two ends of the chain together.

"If you want."

"I want," he confirmed as he leant forward and pressed his lips to the nape of her neck.

"Rick," she warned and his touch faded. She turned to face him. "Go, write," she commanded. "Because when I get back I want your full attention to be on me."

She gave him one last kiss - slow and tender, a promise of what's to come - before gathering the last of her belongings and leaving.