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theblueflower05 · 1 year

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The Sweetest Sylaung

A/N: So I def didn’t mean to write a novel long Neteyam smut story but here we are. Debating on making this a mini series. Also the anon that requested a “curvy” reader insert- here ya go!(she’s also an Augustine- buttttt you can only see that if you squint lol)

Word Count: 6k+

Warnings: This is smut. Pure smut. Please don’t read if it is not your jam. You are in charge of cultivating your own online experience, you’ve been warned!

Pairing: Aged Up! Neteyam x Human!Curvy!Reader

Summary: After an “accidental” romp in the forest, you do your best to avoid Neteyam. It’s for everyone’s good, or so you’ve convinced yourself.

“I’m begging for you to take my hand, wreck my plans. That’s my man”- Willow, Taylor Swift

The kaleidoscope of colors explode under your eyes in endless patterns and shapes as you look over the sample of Pandora flora under the heavy duty microscope. This particular piece of the Moons terra had never been discovered before, only blooming at what you estimated to be every ten or so years, under the right monsoon like conditions

At least that’s what you had discovered so far.

The flower, which sprouted into a berry, and then dissipated into a moss like cluster of microorganisms all within its short life cycle had turned into your passion project. You we’re doing your thesis on it, the last step in getting your Masters.

You’d gone through schooling on a computer screen, guided by the greatest minds on Earth that had relocated to Pandora. Scientists of all fields who you’d grown up around. None of them had been surprised when you’d picked up botany. Xenobotany to be exact.

It was in your blood.

The desk your at shakes violently- disturbing your precision like focus. Breaking you straight out of your zone.

“Ugh” you groan, frustrated, raising your head, eyes narrowing at the culprits.

Spider, Lo’ak and Kiri freeze like deers in the headlights of your fury. Spiders arm raised, a wad of paper balled up in his hand, aimed to shoot. He lowers it slowly as the weight of your your heavy gaze zero’s in.

“Sorry, cu-”

“I told you guys, if you cant behave to get the fuck out” You seethe. Your nerves are paper thin anyway. Too much screen time frying your brain something fierce as you focused in on your studies. “Is that not what I said, verbatim?”

“You need to chill. You’ve been so high strung lately. Come hang out with us” Lo’ak suggests smooth and unhelpful. As usual. “When was the last time you left the lab?”

You roll your eyes and bite your tongue, trying not to say anything to scalding to the surprisingly sensitive Sully brother. “No thanks. I’ve gotta focus”

“Maybe Lo’aks right” Kiri starts, her face screwing up as she speaks “Eywa that sounds wrong. Nevermind, My brother is never right- but you should come hang out with us. Let’s go swimming- the watering hole is over flowing from the storms”

The deep sigh through your nose isn't calming, even though you pretend it is. You know they mean well, in the most annoying way. That you’d been buried in books and paperwork in the lab for the past couple months.

Hiding from the outside world within the thick walls of Hell’s Gate.

“Can’t. This is important, Kir- but why don’t you guys head down there? Its closer to Home Tree and its almost curfew anyway” two birds, one stone. Its a smart suggestion- but Kiri’s face falls, shoulders sagging and ears lowing. That look had always gotten you-

“I cant today, but maybe tomorrow? The samples are too fresh and I don't want to put them on ice…But I think Max made those Yovo cookie things” That’s only half of the truth, but luckily Kiri’s always been understanding.

She grabs your elbow in her long fingers and tugs you along.

The mess hall had seen better days, but the large open space still tends to be the meeting ground for the humans that were allowed to stay and inhabit the moon. With twelve foot tall ceilings and airtight exits and windows that lead out to the Avatar Program training yards. Its a common room of sorts, a place where everyone gathers. For meals, for mismatched Holidays. But mostly for gossip.

I mean, what else is there to do?

Like currently, you’re deeply engrossed in the story that Doctor Martinez’s, Xeno-Zoologist is recounting. All dramatics and dirty intimate details “It’s true, they’re gonna bring it before Mo’at and everything”

He’s talking about Trevino and Eital’i.

Everyone had heard the whispers, seen the not so subtle signs. The main Radio Tower operator had turned during the resistance, had fought beside Jake and had been allowed to stay on Pandora- better stuck on a foreign planet then thrown in a familiar jail cell. Trevino’s a cool guy, really.

A cool guy who had been sleeping with a Na’vi woman, apparently. The two had kept it under wraps, really private. No one could pin down how or when it happened,,,but to go to the clan’s Tsahik seeking a mating blessing? That’s major.

“You’re lying” you accuse in a gasp as the table breaks into whispers, all wide eyes and shaking heads. “They’re going to mate?...How?”

“It’s not like it hasn't happened before” Another scientist chimes in casually. Like it’s a known thing.

Which it kind of is.

Taboo, yes. But not unheard of, more like untalked about.

Humans and the Na’vi of the forest had lived in close quarters since the overthrow of the RDA. Jake, the standing Olo’eyktan, just had a little too much homosapien in him. Yeah, he’d survived the soul transfer and fully inhabited his blue body- but he never quite grew out of his human roots.

It had been hard, lots of politicking and good grace shown on both parts, but somehow, like all biomes in the vast perma green forest, all had learned to live in harmony. Most Omitikaya kept their distance. Very hesitant about the human presence. They had every right to be scared, hostile. Scarred by man and its weapons and its destruction.

Others had been raised in close proximity to Grace’s school. Had become accustomed to the nearly two decade long human presence on Pandora. Curious and accepting.

You’d heard about interspecies hookups.

Locker room talks that left your ears burning and your heart racing. It usually came from members of the Avatar Program- It tends to set a precedent, when the quote on quote “royal family” of the Omiticaya is a Jarhead and a native woman.

Na’vi are gorgeous, tall and lean but humanoid enough to be familiar…you’re not exactly sure what they see in humans but you know damn well what you guys see in them.

“How do you think that works? The…physicality of it all I mean. Trevino doesn't have an Avatar. How do they fuck-”

You’re not the only one zoning out from the conversation and it’s lewd turn.

You watch Kiri watch Spider and your heart aches for her. What they have is secret, delicate and forbidden. As a woman with high standing in the clan, you knew that her feelings for the boy wouldn't go anywhere. Couldn't.

When they we’re kids, it was cute. Now that they 're both technically adults, it was just plain stupid.

You tell her of the fact, often.

Kiri tells you to stop projecting.

———

The Sully Kid’s are always late. It’s like no matter how hard they try, they cant make curfew. You throw on an Exopack, hurrying them to the fence.

“Yeah, yeah okay mom. Take it easy” Lo’ak shrugs huffily as you yank hard on his arm. “I’m going, Y/N!”

“Not fast enough you strumbeast’s ass! You’re gonna get me into trouble, who do you think your dad’s gonna blame when you guys end up back at Home Tree super late again? Norm chewed me out for that shit last time!” You man handle the much taller than you alien.

Kiri and Spider a few leagues in front of you, already at the mouth of the giant fence. They’re awkward, not in their usual synched steps. You wonder how much of that conversation earlier had gone to their heads?

You’re bickering with Lo’ak, an extremely normal occurrence. He can be a real douche. and had been kind of insufferable lately. You think its nerves about his impending Iknamaya.

So engrossed with getting them on their way home that you don't even notice him until it’s too late.

Neteyam is a skilled hunter, through and through. The youngest in the clan to ever make a kill. Swift and quiet. Beloved.

But around you he feels out of his element. Clunky and awkward, no matter how hard he tries to play it off its like you can see right through him. Its scary and thrilling, sets his stomach alive with butterflies everytime. This is no different.

Showing up to Hell’s Gate to retrieve his siblings was something he had done since he was a child.

He’d used to bleed hours away playing with them at the scientists fortress, but as he had gotten older and his responsibilities had grown heavier- he had little time for it. Still, when ever his parents would send him out on a one man search party to bring them home, he’d jump at the chance.

At the hope of seeing you.

You’re arguing with his little brother, trying not to laugh at something he said and Neteyam knows. He knows he shouldn't feel jealous but he just cant help it. Cant help the acidic twist of his insides.

Especially when he chirps out his family's familiar call, letting his presence be known.

And watches that pretty smile fall right off of your face.

“You’re late, as usual” His voice has a stern edge. It’s annoying, the role he has to play. Kiri is a woman grown, Lo’ak just weeks away from being the same. He doesnt blame them for the way their feathers bristle, almost viscerally.

“Ah, big brother you didn't have to come all this way to get us” Kiri reassures, patting Neteyam on the chest good naturedly. “We we’re just about to be on our way”

Neteyam notices the way you try to look anywhere else but him. It stings because he cant stop looking at you, cant pry his eyes away from your form.

“You all should start heading back before dad notices” Neteyam starts. His father had been busy as of late, harvest season abundant and fruitful this year because of the heavy rain season “I’ll catch up, I need to speak with Norm”

“What? Dad cant use the coms now, he has to send his messenger” Lo’ak’s nose scrunches a little, always questioning. On a normal day it wouldn't affect Neteyam so much, just a normal jab from his snot nosed little brother.

Not today. Not when he’s stretched so thin. Not when you refuse to look at him but are staring at the side of Lo’ak fat head. It feels wrong, makes his skin heat up to the point that it feels itchy and tight.

“That's none of your concern. Head back to Home Tree. Now” He doesn't normally throw his weight around. But he feels the need to puff up big in front of you “Those are orders. Get out of here”

Lo’ak’s less offended and more surprised. One of his oh so human eyebrows cocks, a sly remark in his throat before he scoffs. “Aye, Aye Captain Kiss Ass. C’mon Kiri let's go. See you later Spider, Y/N”

He deuces up Spider, gives Y/N a pat on her small shoulder and glares harshly at his brother before he disappears into the thick brush of the jungle.

Kiri wraps her arms around you in a strong hug, muttering about ‘swimming’ and ‘promises’. The small impish smile she shoots Spider gives YOU butterflies so you don't blame the way he swoons, before she’s off behind her younger brother.

“I can go find Norm for you, bro. I think he’s still out in his Avv, but Max can radio him back in” Spider is none the wiser. Doesn't notice the heavy tension that simmers on a low bubble. Oblivious, as usual.

“Yeah, sure” Neteyam replies, barely sparing the human boy a glance. He’d feel bad for it later, when he could form coherent thought. When his brain wasn't on Y/N issued override.

Spider chatters, good natured. He never got to see the Olo’eyktan in training anymore. He missed his homie.

“Well, I should be heading back. You guys have a good rest of your night-” You’re already turning on your heels when you make the announcement, eager to get back inside. Back behind the safe walls of the lab- far away from Neteyam.

“No”

Neteyam who stares at you with all too knowing eyes. He looks straight through you like he can see through your clothes, through your thinly veiled escapism attempts. He reaches out, wraps his long fingers around the top of your arm and tugs you back to him. Gentle, but very firm.

He doesn't have to say it- it’s written all over his face. Not this time. He’s not going to let you run away from him.

“Netey-” You start in a whine, tugging on his hold. He doesnt relent, if anything his fingers tighten as his eyes narrow. Dangerous, desperate.

“Just talk to me” it’s a barely concealed plea, his tail twitches anxiously behind him “I'm just asking for five minutes. Please Y/N”

Spiders oblivious, yes. Stupid? No. He doesnt know exactly what's going on between the two of you but has clued into the fact that it’s heavy and he wants no part of it.

The excuse he makes is shit- he’ll just go find Norm. Yeah… he’s so out of there.

“What is wrong with you?” You hiss as you watch Spiders awkward, quick retreating form. Eyes flickering over the empty for now training yards “So much for keeping it lowkey, huh? Could you be anymore obvious?”

“What’s wrong with me?” Neteyam is almost shaking with disbelief “What the fuck is wrong with you? You havent talked to me in over a month. Everytime I make any kind of attempt you bolt. I dont-” He sighs, pinching the wide bridge of his nose with the hand that isnt holding onto you.

He looks tortured. Tired. Run a little ragged.

Beautiful.

“I don't know what I did? If this is about that day in the forest-”

You sigh at his words, once again pulling on his hold. Shaking your head desperately because you can't.

You can't talk about it. Fuck, you’ve been trying not to even think about it.

And failing as you replay the event over and over again the darkness of your bunk. Hyper fixating on the way that his lips had felt against yours. Oh the way that his big hands had worked your body over

“Don’t” you whisper “Please don’t”

You’d never been one to beg for pity, for mercy but that’s what you do now. Beg him to let you out of his tight clutches. Metaphorically and physically.

“You’re all I can think about” It's a gutted admittance, but Neteyam makes it all the same “That night- I can’t sleep. I can barely eat- I’m falling behind on my duties because I keep coming back here. Standing outside this fence and waiting for you. I know you could hear me over the coms, right?”

And you could, a few weeks or so ago.

When he’d begged you to come out. To come speak to him. His voice so appealing that you’d almost caved. You’d had to turn off your receiver. Had sat with your head in your hands for hours as you fought the urge to crawl to him, knees raw and your bloody heart on a platter only he could divulge in.

He shuffles closer, all lean strong muscle. Firm, unmovable. “You heard me”

“Of course I did”

“And you still left me out here” He scoffs, head shaking slightly as his adams apple bobs, his ears are pinned to the sides of his head in obvious distress “I could never do that shit to you.”

“One of us needs to be the adult in this situation” Your voice is as strong as you can make it. Trying to speak reason on to both of you “We can pretend it never happened and go back to the way that things were before. You’re my friend, Tey”

You reach up, stroking at his wrist. Trying to soften him enough for him to let this go. Let you go.

He’s trying to control his breathing, all that training for all of those years for what? One fragile human girl to make him completely unspool? To lose any and all composure he’d worked so hard to gain.

He was always the adult, in all situations. Had been born with a neck cramping crown on his head. Shrouded in pressurized glory.

“If this is me being childish, so be it. Where has pretending gotten you, huh? Look at you, yawntutsyìp. you look so tired. When was the last time you slept? Kiri says you spend days in the lab without resting”

His hands, both of them, come up to cup your face. Huge and calloused. Yet he holds you like you're something precious. A small animal, a rare gem. His whole entire world since he was just a boy.

Neteyam thumbs at the cool glass of your mask, tenderly. The bags under your eyes are sunken and bruised. “Don’t shut me out”

Your body, in its entirety, clenches at his words. Velvet and sincere. He’s a fucking dream. Your head leans into his hands, neck sagging of its own accord as any and all words of protest leave your weak mind.

He makes you so easy.

“Let me in…I dont want there to be this distance between us anymore” He hisses around the word distance. Hating even having to say it “I want to be inside of you again”

Your plump lower lip gets skewered between your teeth, eyes screwed shut as you remember the last time. Your first ever time being full…you’d dreamt of it every night since it had happened.

If it wasn't for the blasted mask and your need for Earth’s oxygen he’d kiss you. Right here right now. He didn't really give a shit who saw or what they had to say.

Instead pulls you into his chest, lets you wind your arms around his lean middle and bury your chest in his diaphragm. Its as close as he can get you, for now. Makes you cling to him the way that he’d clung to every thought of you for the last weeks.

You wish it was lungfuls of his skin that you were taking as you try to bring yourself down from this abrupt shaky high. You dont get it, how your relationship couldve flipped this hard in such a short time.

He had always just been Neteyam. A shameless flirt yes- but that’s all it was.

“Would you like that?” He questions, hands working through your hair. Fingers light and soothing on your scalp. Massaging the thoughts right out of your head.

“Hmm?”

“If I was inside you again?” He presses on. You can feel the tickle of his long, thin, tail as it wraps around the back of your calf and you groan, digging your nails into his back.

“You’re such an asshole. Stoppppp it” You’re embarrassed and turned on and already feel stupid enough, he doesn't need to rub it in. His chest shakes as he chuckles.

“I’m serious. Tell me you want it-”

“Neteyam! Hey!”

The two of you break apart in an instant. You jump away from him as though struck by lightning. Instantly putting enough distance between you and the Na’vi that maybe, just maybe an onlooker might think that the embrace was friendly.

It’s Norm, having heard that the eldest Sully was looking for him he’d come eagerly.

The smile you plaster on is forced and honestly, Neteyam doesnt fair any better. He’s obviously flustered, just glad that his erection isn't tenting his tweng.

“Spider told me you and your dad are looking for me. I’m not intruding on uh anything, am I?” Norm looks between the two of you.

Your arms are folded tightly over your chest and Neteyam is rubbing at the back of his neck, strong jaw flexing as his teeth grind.

Oh yeah, Norm had definitely interrupted something.

Knows for sure as you scurry away. As Neteyam, always so level headed, has to string together words. Stumbling a little bit as he tries to remember the message that Jake had relayed.

It’s not any of his business, he thinks at the time. He sure didnt want to be the one to shine the light on whatever the hell was going on here. Turning a blind eye to the mysteries of Pandora is the only way to survive the harshest terrain known to man.

———

You dont know that though-

No, you’re spiraling more a little bit as you prepare yourself for bed. Brushing through your thick hair and staring out into space as your mind assaults you with all of the gnarly ‘What If’s’

Norm had seen and he had to know right? Oh god, what if he told Jake?

You balk. Lowering the brush as your eyes bulge out of your head.

What if he told Neytiri?

That's actually a super horrific thought. Like nightmarish. You have a lot of respect for the future Tsahik...

…And a very healthy does of fear. She didnt like humans and made it known. She tolerated them only for her husband's benefit. What if she found out that her eldest son, her golden boy, had fucked one?

You’re freak out is interrupted by static, by the beeping of your com receiver on your night stand.

“Y/N?” its Neteyams muffled voice through the device. You’d ignored it once. You should ignore it again…

“Yeah?” you wonder if he picks up on how shaky you sound through the receiver.

“Tomorrow night meet me at the East Gate. Like when we we’re kids” he’s not really asking. Not demanding either. You could ignore him again, but he has to try.

The line goes silent, quiet for minutes on end.

“Y/N?”

You’re so stupid. “What time?”

You can hear the grin he’s sporting as he replies “0100”

“Got it, over. Good night, Neteyam. Go to sleep”

———

The East Bay is on the other side of the large fortress-like building. It's not that it's forbidden, or anything. but it is deserted. It’s where the military personnel had inhabited, and since most if not all of them had gotten the hard boot off Pandora it was empty as a ghost town in these maze like halls.

When you we’re younger; you’d caught Spider sneaking Kiri and Lo’ak in through the rarely used entrance. You’d demanded the know how, if he didnt want you to rat on him for it. It was a rare occurrence, but the Sully children had all been snuck into Hell’s Gate this way over the years.

You type in the codes, disabling the alarm system in order to usher Neteyam into the pressurized, air lock. You’d toted one of the Avatar Exopacks along for him, they’re heavier then hell but he’d need it.

“Hi” you smile, suddenly shy as the tall Na’vi man stands before you.

That's what he was now. A man, not only in the eyes of his people but as a whole. Broad and muscular, strong. Verile. The next leader of his people. You know that he’s highly desired in his clan. Women fawn over him. Vie for his attention.

It doesnt feel real that he wants to give it to you.

You’re nothing special. Not tall and stunning like the Omaticaya women. Even by Earth’s standards you're short, curvy. Not particularly pretty. Insecurity gnaws at you, as it so often does.

“C’mere” Neteyam urges, boldly yanking you by your waist. Pulling you flush against his body. Grabby and insistent, he wants to feel your bare skin. All plush and soft, hes been dying to taste it since the last time.

Kicking himself over and over for not savoring every bit of your body that you gave to him. He won't make the same mistake again.

He’s not gonna lie, the concrete and metal of the walls inside of Hell’s Gate have always made him a little claustrophobic. But he can't do this outside-

His lips capture yours, demanding and needy from the jump. Big, over powering, he swallows your little chirp of surprise. Devours any and all breath from your lungs. Its messy and so good. You hadn't gotten to kiss him last time.

His mouth tastes amazing, his tongue rough in texture just like you remembered. It grates your lips as you suck on it-

“Hey, slow down a little bit” You giggle as Neteyam paws at your ass, lifting you off the ground until you squirm hard, making him release you “Not here, we can't do this here there’s cameras everywhere”

“I don't care” Neteyam pecks all over your face, trying to recapture your mouth as you avoid him “Let them watch, most of those pervs would like it”

And they would know that you’re his. The thought is beyond heady.

You gasp as his sharp canines ghost over the delicate skin of your neck, nibbling on your pulse point “Please- Neteyam”

You firmly push him away, hand on his chest and maybe if you hadn't cut him off cold turkey he would've given you space. Could've pulled away for a moment to let you say your piece. Instead the idea of letting you pull away even an inch is unbearable to him.

No. instead he tosses you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He hauls loads heavier then you every day, your protests mean little to him. With his free hand he scoops up the Avv Exo Tank,

“Where to, yawntutsyìp?”

Where too is an old conference room. Its as good as any, and Neteyam yanks a couple cushions off the old couch to act as a brace for your head as he lowers you to the floor, flat on your back.

You’re so pretty like this, he tells you of the fact.

With your hair a mess behind you, your face free of that damned mask. Grinning up at him as you rub your thighs together. He wishes he had that camera that his dad liked to take pictures on. He wants this moment of you framed, immortalized.

“I hate sky people clothes” He mutters as he tugs on the hem of your t-shirt. It hides you, hides all that skin he craves.

“You want me to take it off?” You offer eagerly, raising up enough to start peeling the piece of clothing off. You’re bare underneath, completely. Your breasts jiggle as they’re freed, nipples peaked in the cool air-conditioned air.

“Don’t ever put it on again” He demands, taking it from your hands and tossing it across the room. He’s dead serious, but by the way you're giggling you obviously think its a joke.

He can’t help it, he dives in face first. Rubbing against your soft breasts, obsessed with the way they feel. Heavy, pillowy. He drags his tongue across all of your bare skin. From your clavicle to your nipple. You always smell so pretty, but its got nothing on the way you taste. It explodes bright and savory on his tastebuds.

You let him explore, until your spit soaked and shaking. Your panties sticky as your hips search for any kind of friction. “I need you”

“You have me, my love. All of me” your eyes water at his words. At the sincerity. At how much you want them to be true.

You grab one of his hands and drag it down your chest. Past your soft, rounded belly and into your shorts. He grunts as you guide him to where you’re wet and pulsing. Rythmetically clenching around nothing.

He circles your clit, feather light. More of a tease then anything and you want to sob. You’d thought of nothing but this, touched yourself imagining him. “Tey-”

He smiles around a mouthful of nipple,tugging on with his teeth. “I missed you so much”

“Then be nice to me” you plead, trying to shove yourself down on his fingers.

“We’re being nice now? Were you nice to me when you ignored me?” he can't help it, hurt bleeds into his voice. It had been so fucking painful, knowing that you hadnt wanted to see him. To be with him.

“I’m sorry” you whine, grabbing his face, pulling it from your bosom. “I’m so sorry. I was so scared- I’m still scared but I need you”

He lets you cup his cheeks, lets you plant kisses all over him. The bridge of his nose, his eyelids, his cheekbones. You dote on him, gentle and caring and he gorges himself on your love.

“You cant ever do that again, okay?” He shivers as you kiss his ear, running your tongue along the hyper sensitive flesh “If you’re scared you come to me, not run from me. Do you understand?”

You nod, eager. “I promise, Neteyam”

It’s all he needs to hear, that you’re his. That you won't deprive him of your presence ever again. He doesn't know what he’ll do. He’s a little scared of the man he becomes when it comes to you, you’re not the only one frightened by the gravity of your feelings.

“You asked if I wanted you inside me again? Yes. So much. I never knew I could be that full” it’s like you know just what to say. You light him up from the inside. His fingers begin circling your sopping clit again, this time with intent.

It’s blurry, the fact that your lightheaded making it hard to think. To track what he’s doing to you because somehow Neteyam seems to be everywhere at once. His big body all encompassing as he takes you.

“No-no marks, baby” You try to remind him and his blazing eyes zero in on you in a glare “you know we cant…not where they can see”

You’re right, and he hates it. He’ll just have to mark you where only you can see. Where you can look at your self and be reminded that you belong to someone. That you belong to him.

He doesn't have the patience, cant stop his hands from shaking- the tear of your shorts and panties echos around the room as he removes any barriers between him and the heat at the apex of your thighs.

You cant help the thrill it sends down your spine. He’d…ripped your panties off. You thought shit like this only existed in bad Earth made Porn that you’d found on one of the labs computers.

“Sorry, sorry” his apology is far from sincere though and you can't help but giggle, patting his braids fondly.

The fingerfucking is rough, your wines and moans spilling from you as he hits spots inside of you that make you want to curl up. It’s too good. Too much-

You screech, back bowing as he bends to kiss you, loud and sloppy, right on your wet clit. His big head burrows between your thigs as he delves on your cunt, his long rough textured tongue lapping at the fat puffy lips. The texture difference has both of you groaning.

It’s heartbreakingly good, the kind of good that you’ll never be able to forget. That you’ll crave and need for the rest of your life. Addictive, as he dedicates himself to making you feel pleasure.

Neteyam eats pussy the same way he does everything else in his life, exceeding any expectations. His instincts sharp as he hones in on how to make you lose your mind.

He keeps telling you how good you taste, breaking away for heaving breaths before he reburries himself. The only sounds in the room are the beyond wet sloshing of his tongue lashing and the pathetic noises your making.

He’s eating you alive, you don’t know how you’re supposed to survive this.

His fingers, two and then three fuck in and out of you. Corkscrewing as he loosens your tightness up for him.

“O-ooh” you whine high and reedy as you feel your tummy tightening, the pressure building in a way that makes you feel like you cant breathe. You cant your hips, shoving them down at that perfect angle “Oh, sh-shhhhit. I’m gonna, I’m-”

He doubles down and you’re a goner.

The orgasm is devastating. Sofuckinggood you think you might see stars for a minute there. You can't even scream, you keep letting out these little cries that are more like wheezes. A desprate attempt to get some kind of air back in your lungs-

Which reminds you.

Even though you’re in a daze you wiggle away from him, he hisses at you about it but you swat the top of his head as you reach for the Exo Pack.

You shove the mask in his face, between your legs.

”Breathe, Neteyam” you demand him to gulp down the Pandoran air. Yeah, he could go longer in your environment than you in his but still. Death by giving head isn’t the way you’d like him to go out.

He takes long breaths and you try not to be embarrassed by how soaked his chin is.

When he pulls away his eyes are a little more focused “Thank you, sweet girl. Always thinking about me, huh?”

You nod, dropping the mask. Closer this time for easier access. His eyes quickly zero back in on your swollen pussy, on how wet he got you. On how pretty it looks. His mouth is watering all over again-

When you try to close your thighs, the burning of your cheeks getting to be too much he hisses again. It’s not a sound he often makes and it’s a revelation, he’s so sexy. Almost feral.

“Who said I’m done?”

You’re never going to be able to get over this man “I already came?...”

“Yes? So?” he rolls his eyes, lowering his head, nuzzling at the damp juncture of your inner thigh “You’re still so tight, here feel”

His fingers slip back in you and you mewl, baring down as he scissors the long digits.

“We have to get you loose enough to take me, I don’t want to hurt you” He explains it like you need convincing. Like he has to convince you to let him eat you out. You just re-spread your thighs, relaxing back onto the cool floor as you let him do as he pleases.

It takes two more orgasms that you scream and shake through until he deems that you’re ready. By the time that he begins to slide his cock into you you’re a blubbering, oversensitive mess. You’re crying rivers of tears as you cling to him.

“Hold my hand? Please ” You request and he smiles, kissing your tear streaked cheek as he interlaces his longer fingers with yours.

Humans and Na’vi can fuck, but we’rnt designed to. His dick is overwhelimgly big and will really injure you if the two of you aren't careful about this.

You both gasp sharply as his tip breaches you.

It hurts, it’s agonizing. It’s the kind of pleasure pain that you didnt even know could exist. Everytime you think you can adjust, he pushes in another inch. But oh, how you missed it. Being so full it feels like you’re going to burst. You’re pussy flutters as it fights to take him and you focus in on his face.

It’s all scrunched up in heavy concentration. His lips speared between his sharp teeth in a way that has them almost bleeding.

You can't have that. You tug him into a kiss, soothing the abused flesh with your tongue.

“I-I dont want to hurt you” He whimpers as his forehead rests against yours.

“It’s okay, you’re okay” You hum to him, grasping at his hand even tighter “I love what you do to me. I love how you feel”

When he bottoms out you think he must be in your ribs. Hes still, letting your body get used to him. Trying to be kind. You want to tell him that there’s no getting used to his size. That he could fuck you every day for the rest of your lives and he would still feel just as massive.

“Please” you wail instead “please”

The first gentle snap of his pelvis has you both reeling. Your thighs lock around his thin hips, urging him. You can take it. It only takes a little urging for him to lose himself. The harsh stretch of it has you shaking as your over sensitive pussy tightens. You’re coming again, less intense the the previous orgasms, thankfully.

Neteyam had been so focused on making you feel good that he’d neglected his hard, weeping cock. His balls are so full that he knows he’s not going to be able to draw this out.

You know you have to look stupid, mouth hanging open as you raggedly gasp for breath, letting out punched out sounds as Neteyam pounds into you. You cant look away from his face though.

It’s mesmerizing, all of it. The sounds he lets out. The way that his braids sway with the rhythm of his pleasure seeking body. His broad shoulders, bulging biceps and forearms- you are so fucked.

You’re so in love.

“Please Y/N” He wheezes as you squeeze around him, letting go of your hand so he can wrap both of his arms around your lower back “I can’t hold it. W-where should I?”

Oh. Oh, he’s the sweetest man. He always has been.

You peck his lips, not minding that he’s too lost in his own pleasure to really kiss you back

“Come inside me. Come inside me. Come inside me” it’s a heated chant, broken and breathy by the erratic rhythm of his hips and he buries his head in your neck, wailing in the skin there.

Just for a moment, lost in the haze of sex, you can tell he forgets his own strength. Thrusts into you so hard that you scream out in pain, the mushroom tip of his long cock batters your cervix relentlessly. Its a sharp, startling sensation that you’ve never known but you ride it out for him. Desperately trying to keep your whimpers of discomfort at bay.

When he comes, his whole body goes still and ram rod straight. He hugs you tightly to him. You wish you could see his face. Next time, hopefully.

He’s Neteyam, the mighty warrior. The dutiful son. The next clan leader but as he shakes and twitches and basks in the afterglow you can't help but want to baby him. But stroke his back softly, rubbing the residual tension out of his tired muscles.

He’s your big ol’ pussy cat, you’d always teased. He purrs like one every time you’re affectionate with him.

You can’t help but run your hands along his sensitive spine. Let the length of his tail run through the loop of your fingers. He grins and flicks it from side to side. He’d always thought your fascination with it was amusing.

“Are you okay?” he mutters, still hidden in your hair as he starts to come back to himself and you hum, moving up to pat his braids.

“Mmhmm” you’re maybe not as capable of making words as you though you were. He chuckles and hugs you. Holds you in his big arms in a way that makes you feel untouchable.

The two of you lie in that room for as long as you can, until he has to start heading back to Home Tree, it’s almost morning and his parents are early risers. They’ll look for him if hes not in his tent…

It's hard. Letting him go. Even though you know he’ll be back. You keep pulling him back in for kisses, holding onto his muscular arms until he laughs and peels you off of him.

“I’ll be back my love. I’ll always return for you”

You frown but agree, pushing him away to get re-dressed- “How am I supposed to go back like this! Neteyam I don't have any pants!”

He’d shredded your shorts and panties. Literal tatters of cloth are all that’s left.

Neteyam cracks up, almost keeling over. Thinking he’s oh so funny. It lightens the situation and makes letting him go- watching him disappear back in the forest a little easier.

You end up having to pull your fortunately oversized t-shirt down as far as it can go as you make a mad dash across the facility, back to your dorm. You fall asleep grinning, thinking about how the panties had been a necessary sacrifice.

———

Norms on late night watch, keeping a bored, admittedly not sharp enough eye on the security camera’s feeds. With the rainy season, came an influx of Slinths’. It made sense to have a lookout, and somehow he’d gotten saddled with an overnight shift.

He’d definitely fallen asleep for a few hours. Not that he’d tell anyone of that fact.

There is nothing that could prepare him for what he see’s on the screen, over in the desolate East Bay. First, he thinks that he’s hallucinating, his sleep bogged eyes playing tricks on him.

He rubs them hard with his knuckles, not believing the image that is large and clear on the security footage.

It’s Neteyam. Inside the facility which almost never happened. And he’s bending down, his lips locked with Y/N’s . Kissing her hard and long before she punch’s in the code, and opens the air locked door to let him back out into the shadowy eclipse.

Norm’s learned a lot living on this strange moon- Pandora was mysterious. Full of things his brilliant mind would never understand. So he does what he does’ most of the time.

Minds his own business.

So I’ve had this idea cooking for months, but didn’t have the bandwidth to get it written down. The ideas wouldn’t translate to page and I still kind of feel like they didn’t butttttt whatever. This is pure self indulgence. I am so much more in love with Neteyam now. He is SUCH a good guy. Ugh.

Also, please remember that my requests are OPEN! Send in all that good shit. Come blue alien brain rot with me!

#neteyam x reader #neteyam smut #avatar neteyam #aged up neteyam #neteyam x you #avatar smut

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sorrowfulrosebud · 6 months

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Alright, here's another one.

Protective wolf Bakugou scenario, something like a guy trying to hit on you or giving you a perverted look while out and about with Baku, go!

He’s such a protective pouty baby 🥺💕 warning for creepy guys and grabbing!!

Imagine taking a quiet walk to the hybrid park, Katsuki itching to be let off his leash as he sees the familiar red hair of his best friend. He’s pulling you as you laugh, pulling him down slightly as you unleash his collar.

He’s off in a flash, sniffing the redhead and letting him sniff in return. You watch them chase each other playfully, ducking and diving through the playing equipment. You smile and chuckle, before finding a quiet bench to read the rest of your book.

A solid 30 minutes go by, you getting more entranced in your novel until you heard a cough. You look up from your book to see a tall stranger looking down at you.

“Excuse me, may I sit down here?” He starts, sitting before you could deny him. You look at him before reading your book. The stranger shimmies forward to see what you’re reading before curling his nose up. You figured; he didn’t look the type to enjoy gothic literature.

“So uh, which of these mutts are yours?” He lazily waves his hand at the array of puppy hybrids playing with each other. You look at him annoyed and close your book.

“I’ll have you know it’s none of your business. And they’re not mutts, they’re hybrids. Hardly that much different than you or I; they just have more natural instincts,” you say sharply, going to move to another bench. Before you could finish, the stranger grabs your wrist with an iron grip and gritted teeth.

“Now listen here, you little bitch! I- ahh!” The stranger was cut off by a flash of red and yellow. Your hybrid was snarling behind his muzzle, grabbing on to the stranger’s wrist as his claws dug deeply into the flesh. Kirishima was shielding you from his view, holding you to his chest as they both snarled at the creep.

“Leave…alone,” Katsuki snarled out, eyes wide as he shook the stranger roughly. The stranger stammered as he winced in pain. He snatched his wrist back as Katsuki stood in front of you. The creep stared at you before angrily shrieking.

“I should have those mutts put down you fucking bitch!” He screamed, clutching his arm. Your heart pounded in your chest before another voice piped up.

“Sorry I’m late Kirishima, but I had to go help a sheep hybrid get his horns unstuck. Seems like I got back at the right time, cus I have everything on camera,” FatGum’s smooth voice cut through the air.

“And I mean EVERYTHING.”

The stranger looked wildly at you, then your puppyboy, then FatGum. He let out an aggressive scream, before running away. Katsuki spat as he ran, Kirishima’s hackles raised as he growled too.

As soon as the creep was gone, Katsuki turned to you and let out a quiet whine. Your hands found refuge in his fluffy locks as you shushed your puppy, kissing his forehead as he held you.

“Shh puppy, I’m okay. Such a good boy, aren’t you? You’re such a good boy for protecting me,” you murmur into his fluffy ear as his claws slowly retracted. His tail slowly crept from side to side as he snuggled into you.

“M-mate..keep safe,” he mumbled out. His speech was so much better, cracking less and sounding more like your language.

“Thank you, sweet thing. And thank you Kirishima! You’re such a good boy too!” You coo at them both as you petted their heads. Kirishima yipped as you ruffled his unruly mane of hair, his tongue resting comfortably over his lip as he panted; a sharp contrast to the pin-pricked eyes and bared fangs.

“He’s a good’un, aren’t ya Eiji? I suppose we gotta go back soon. What are ya gonna do?” FatGum asked you, seeing you were still a bit shaken up. You take Katsuki’s hand as you stroked it.

“I’m going to report that guy to the police, if you don’t mind sending me that video. After that, I think I’m gonna take Katsuki home and order some takeaway,” you smile, scratching your puppyboy under the chin.

“That’s fair. I’ll walk ya to the station since it’s on my way back. You never know if that creep could be lurking.”

True to his word, FatGum walked you to the police station and helped you file a report. You were worried about what they would say when Katsuki and Eijiro were found jumping the guy, but sighed in relief when they say the attack was minimal and provoked.

They gave you a lift home, dropping you off with a wave as you and Katsuki entered your home. You kicked off your shoes with a happy sigh, thankful for the day to be over with. You looked at your pouty pup who was lingering in the hallway.

“Are you okay, sweetpea?” You ask him quietly, holding him close to you as you look at his face. He nods, pulling you closer to him, and rubbed his face all over you. Ah, so he was scenting you.

“Stink…of man,” he grumbled, holding your wrists close to him and gently rubbing them against his mouth. His sandpaperish tongue provided gentle strokes as you giggle.

“Thank you angel, that’s very helpful,” you praise him, using your free hand to pet him. He sits on the couch and pulls you with him. You were comfortably jet-packed under him as he chuffed and licked your hair.

“My mate,” he grunted, whining at the thought of someone hurting his mate. He looked at the bruise on your wrist and growled as you turned over to face him. Gentle fingers traced his handsome face.

“I know, sweet thing. It was a scary thing. But I’m okay now, I promise! You scared him off and we went to the police. Everything is okay now. You protected me, my good boy,” you praise him softly.

He buried his face deeper into your neck as his arms circle your waist again. You were shocked when you felt droplets of warm water soak your neck, peeking and seeing Katsuki’s warm cheeks.

Your heart ached for the pup; he had so much taken from him when he was younger, so he must have been frightened when you were grabbed. It went deeper than you realised.

You held his body tightly to yours, weaving your legs together. Your hands played with his fluffy ears, soothing the upset pup. He peeked his head out 10 minutes later, placing his nose against yours. You smile at him, kissing his nose as you whipped out your phone.

“Now, how about we get pizza for dinner.”

#🥀 rambles #pretty flower bluewolfangel01 🌷#bnha x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou #bakugou fluff #bakugou x reader fluff #hybrid bnha #hybrid bnha x reader #wolf hybrid bakugou #wolf bakugou x reader #wolf bakugou #wolf bakugou fluff #wolf bakugou x reader fluff

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fixyourwritinghabits · 1 month

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So I want to write a novel, and I outline my story and write out everything that happens in the outline and I get to the end and it's... Between 20,000 and 40,000 words, usually. Like I can tell a complete story but I have a hard time getting it to the length of a publishable novel, and it keeps happening with different stories I write. Do you have any advice for making a story longer without making it feel like I'm just adding stuff to make it longer?

While I think you have a workable length for a first draft, I can see where your problems lay. Let's tackle what your intended goal is first.

Industry standard (set by traditional publishing) for novels is the following:

Adult novels - 80,000 to 100,000 word count. Many will fall between that range. Sci-Fi and Fantasy novels tend to run higher, but you'll notice Romance, Mystery, and Crime tend to run tighter, closer to 80k. Literary novels (Contemporary and Historical Fiction) can swing up and down that word length. Door-stopper books of 200k can be found, of course, but that's the opposite of what we're dealing with.

YA Novels - Contemporary tends to stick to a tight 80k, but publishing tends to seek longer fantasy novels, sticking to the adult standard of 10k.

Middle Grade (8-11ish year old readers) - 30,000 to 60,000. Most publishers want something in the middle, as MG readers are constantly stretching their reading capabilities.

These are generalizations that are subject to change, of course, but they're good guides to follow when editing. Let's say you want to aim for an adult novel, which means you want to at least double your 40k length. While looking over your work, consider the following:

Does your main character have enough problems?

If your story can be resolved within the 40k mark, you may need to add more complications to their journey. Does their external problem (the outside issues they're dealing with, like losing a job or battling a sentient typhoon) adequately line up with resolving their internal problem (dealing with unresolved guilt, confronting a fatal flaw about themselves, apologizing to that sentient typhoon for leaving them at the altar, etc).

Save The Cat also talks about the Shard of Glass or Unresolved Wound, a deeply internal problem the protagonist has to confront about themselves in order to solve the main problem of the novel. Deepening your character's issues can buff up the need for more words to resolve them. (Not every story has the character 'fix' this issue - many novels are about characters failing to do just that, that unresolved flaw finally dooming them in the end.)

Subplots, Sidequests, and McGuffins

Subplots are their to enrich your novel with elements that contribute to the overall journey. Besides the main problem your protagonist is facing, what else is going on in their life? Do they need to confess a crush to a friend? Is their struggle to control their magical powers tied to a traumatic childhood? Does learning the truth about their family history force them to reflect on their own behavior? A subplot should weave back into strengthening the main story while adding more elements to make it more interesting. It's not as hard as it sounds - the more you think about your character's internal problem, the more you realize they'll need to confess their feelings, confront their mother, or more to resolve that final issue.

By sidequests, I'm leaning into the fantasy element of storytelling, but you'll find this pops up in a lot of stories. A chance encounter in a mystery can provide an essential clue, or stopping to aid someone could lead to a character-revealing moment. Remember, this isn't filler - you're expanding the overall plot by leaning into your world-building to establish essential knowledge about your world, introducing minor characters that can act as aids or obstacles to a problem, or starting an action scene that changes the trajectory of the novel.

A MacGiffin is an object, device, or event necessary to the plot and the motivation of the characters, but typically unimportant or irrelevant in itself. Usually, the MacGuffin is revealed early on, and becomes less important once the storyline is set in motion. You'll see a lot of despairing comments about them, because they often can be used poorly. But MacGiffins are often essential parts of storytelling, a quest that leads your characters astray from what they should actually be doing (and in turn learning about themselves and the problem they need to face instead).

Your character spends half the novel trying to find the missing crown, only to discover it's been fake the whole time. That whole first half of the novel was a waste of time... or was it? By having your characters fixate on the wrong solution, you're exploring what Save the Cat calls "Doing Things The Wrong Way" where the real answer is in digging deep down, confronting that internal problem, and setting down the right path at last. This is where the mid-novel twist of the king being the villain all along, the dragon they're meant to slay for killing the villagers turns out to be a card-carrying vegan. The easy answer isn't the solution, and it's taking the hard path that gets things done.

For Example...

In Jedediah Berry's genre-bending mystery novel The Manual of Detection, the main character is pulled into finding the missing detective he used to write the case files for. As with any good mystery, there's a lot of good side quests - going to a bar only to run into villains that need confronting later, a one-sided rivalry with another detective ends up solving a problem later, etc. A subplot starting the novel where the protagonist goes out of his way to encounter someone at a coffee shop turns out to be an essential character connection later, and the MacGiffin - the Manual of Detection itself - turns out to be more important because of what it lacks.

In Jeff Smith's graphic novel series Bone, in the beginning, the main characters remain blissfully unaware of the true danger hunting them or the secrets of those around them. But the villains too are unknowingly pursuing a MacGuffin, leading to a series of events that will bring about a massive clash - and a confrontation of truths that will lead to the final solution.

And Finally, Maybe It's Not a Novel

I do want to say this might all not be what you need, because your true calling could be to write novellas - a length that varies between 20k to 40k. A shorter story is just as good as a lengthier one. There's a steady market for novellas of multiple genres, so it could be a good thing to look into if this feels like where your writing should be.

#plotting #book lengths #editing #writing advice #writblr #trying real hard to not spoiler Bone #but that plot point is real clear from the start

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devildom-moss · 3 months

Note

If requests are still open…I just read the best book and want to fan with someone. So how would they react to their s/o wanting to fan/talk about their favorite novel to them?

Thank you for the request anon. I know it's late, but I hope you like it.

Reacting to MC wanting to talk about their favorite novel headcanons

(mostly implied established relationships)

(Slightly suggestive for Asmodeus, Barbatos, Thirteen, Raphael, Mephistopheles)

Word Count: +4,300

Lucifer

He acts like he’s not that interested in hearing about it or that you’re inconveniencing him somehow, but Lucifer loves hearing you talk.

He pretends he’s making a generous deal by offering to let you talk all you want if you agree to cuddle with him. Just allow him to pour you both a glass of Demonus and get into a comfortable position before you start talking.

Usually, that position involves one of you lying on the other’s chest – although, I think Lucifer would adore curling up with his head tucked under your chin, listening to your heartbeat as you talked. The second you look away from him during these book talks/cuddles, his subtle smile would melt into something so lovesick that he’s ashamed to let you see.

How much he actually pays attention to what you’re saying honestly depends on how tired he is and how much Demonus is in him. If he’s exhausted or drunk, he’s more focused on the sound of your voice than the meaning of the words leaving your mouth. He’ll answer with small hums. If he’s alert, he’ll seem like he’s passively listening, but this man is reconstructing the entire novel based on the facts you’re giving him. He tries to ask you questions based on what seems to appeal to you the most in the book.

It’s so soft, but since he doesn’t have much time for reading, one of his favorite ways to learn about new books is through you. He likes that his experience with a book is shaped entirely by what you love about it.

Unfortunately, that also means that he’s unlikely to read the book unless you directly recommend it to him – and even then, he’ll ask to borrow your copy so he can see if you left any notes or annotations in it. What a romantic loser. His interest in the book will be tied to your interest in it.

Mammon

He might think it’s kind of boring at first, but he’ll let you talk about the book anyway. “Since ya seem so interested, I guess ya could tell the Great Mammon about it. Just know I ain’t this generous with my time for anyone, got it?”

If he’s not going to get cuddles out of this, then you’re taking him on a date, which he obfuscates by telling you that dinner/a drink is on you. Honestly, you could make him a cup of instant noodles that he bought, and he’d still agree to listen to you – or again, you could just hold him.

He’s just being greedy, but he’s pleased that you came to him to talk about something you love. Even if the genre isn’t something he would touch with a 20ft pole (horror), he’d rather you come to him to talk about it. You’re his human, and he’s your first; so, you should want to talk to him above all. He’ll be so butthurt if you go to anyone else.

He might get bored, especially if it’s not something he’s into, and his mind will wander (Oh, wow. MC looks cute today. Where’d they get that outfit? I think I wore a jacket in that color during my last gig. Shit. They’d look hot in those clothes. Maybe I should…). However, if you tell him that being able to talk about this book is important to you, he’ll be a surprisingly good listener.

Mans doesn’t read – not exactly, anyway. He’ll read comics and graphic novels, but I think pages packed with nothing but words just frustrate him to no end (possibly dyslexic). That said, he’s willing to put in the effort to read something you seem to really like – especially if it’s an ongoing series, so he can get caught up and read the next one with you.

Mammon will even read horror if you recommend it, but you’re going to end up with him in your bed for a few weeks (while he’s reading and for a week or two after he finishes the book). Please don’t tease him for being scared. He’s doing this for you.

Every time you bring up a book you like that sounds interesting, he waits until he’s alone to see if there’s a free audiobook version. He’s weirdly embarrassed about finding audiobooks easier.

Leviathan

Mood because same. He requires a captive audience of at least one Henry to listen to him go on and on about his favs. He’ll match your energy (although he might just be mirroring you) because he wants to hype you up – it’s what he wants when he has something to fan about.

Levi will put his games, manga, and/or anime aside just to listen to you. You’ll have his undivided attention – and he doesn’t care how long you talk for either. Listens like a good boy. He’s just happy that you wanted to talk to him about something you love.

Please don’t talk to him in his demon form. His snake-like tongue will be flicking out, tasting your excitement in the air. He’ll get flustered if you point that out, though because “UGH, HOW CAN I BE SO OBVIOUS!?” Then you’ll have to stop talking about your book to comfort the poor mess. Although he’d much prefer it if you just ignored him and kept talking.

He’ll add the book to his read later list – although he might bump it to the top of the list for you (especially if it’s something that interests him – like romance).

Levi will recommend anime, manga, and other books that match the themes (as you described them) of the one you’re talking about. The idea of sharing your interests makes him overjoyed, and he might get a bit carried away, recommending five to ten things at once.

He’s just really cute and supportive. He’ll even make note of what you enjoy so he can get merch and other related items for you as a present.

Satan

After Levi, he probably appreciates and understands your urge to discuss a book you love the most. Sometimes you read something so good that you can’t keep it to yourself; he gets it.

As the designated bookworm, he understands why you would come to him – he’s the most obvious choice, but he still loves that you chose him. It’s endearing. Just imagine his eyes widening when you ask him if you can talk about a book you read with him, followed quickly by a smile and a faint blush. He’s thrilled.

He will definitely read the book – assuming he hasn’t already. If it’s so good that it made his beloved partner want to talk about it, he has to read it. If he’s already read it, he’ll read it again.

Like Lucifer (don’t kill me), Satan will ask for your copy of the book so he can skim for any underlines and annotations. He wants to use this as an excuse to understand you better, and he’ll study the way you talk about the book (what you fixated on, how you relay the plot, everything).

He probably sits you on his lap to discuss the book – that way you can stand up and pace if you feel the urge to move. It’s an incredibly intimate moment for him, and he savors it. That said, he might get annoyed if you never reciprocate by listening to him fan about his favorites.

Probably the only one who asks you to talk about your favorite books before you get the chance to ask if he’ll listen. He’s especially prone to do this if he’s had a bad day. Your voice soothes him, and he can get lost in a story told through your eyes.

Asmodeus

Asmo doesn’t quite understand because books (when he reads them) so rarely move him to the point that he needs to talk about it. Still, it’s not that different from him sharing new trends with you.

He’s happy to let you discuss your favorite book with him because a part of him just feeds off the adoration in your voice – and I mean actually feeds off it. He’ll keep you going with the occasional question. By the time you’re done talking, Asmo will be left feeling refreshed and satisfied.

“You’re so cute when you’re into something. You know, you have that same adorable look on your face whenever you stare at me.” He teases you because he’s somehow a little jealous of the book. All that time you spent reading could have been spent adoring him. It doesn’t matter if you slowly read the book over a period of months, he still thinks of it as time he missed out with you. However, Asmo knows that train of thought is petty, so he tries not to bring it up.

Expect him to want to go out on a date with you shortly after – or immediately. He’s just so full of energy and love, and there’s no one he would rather spend time with. If he can think of something to do that’s related to the book you just discussed, he will. (He wasn’t just feeding off your love for the book, he was listening – probably because it was you talking.)

After the first time you fan about a book with him, he’ll start inviting you to hang out in his room with him to read. He can do whatever he wants while you read, sprawled out in his bed (get your mind out of the gutter. Although he’d be down for that too). Asmo just wants you around, invading his personal space. He even sweetens the deal by mentioning that if you read in his room, you can stop to discuss chapters right away.

Asmo, most likely, won’t read the book unless you insist (or if it’s a spicy novel), and even then, he’ll probably ask you to read it to him. “Come on, I’ll enjoy it so much more when it’s coming directly from your lips.”

Beelzebub

Beel also doesn’t read much, and rarely to the point of wanting to talk about it with someone else, so he’s at a loss. He’ll let you discuss it with him if it makes you happy, though.

The twins are probably the worst of the brothers to try to fan with. Beel will get distracted by any mention of food, so maybe don’t mention anything that even sounds like food if you want him to stay on track.

He will probably get hungry while you’re talking, and even though he doesn’t want to interrupt you, his growling stomach will not show you the same consideration. You’ll get a better reception if you feed him while you discuss the book. He still might get a bit distracted by his food for a few seconds, but he’ll refocus back to you.

Talking about a book with him might go over better if you offer to do it during one of his workouts. He could listen to you instead of music. If you don’t have the kind of stamina to talk about the book and run or lift weights beside him, he’s still happy to have you stand next to him or talk – or he’ll ask you to serve as a weight for him. You could sit on his back while he does push ups or hold his feet while he does sit-ups.

He might pick up the book you read and give it a chance – but no promises. Also, please don’t lend Beel your copy of the book if you don’t have to. He might try to eat it or drool on it. (He’ll be extremely sorry and offer to buy a replacement, at least.)

Belphegor

Good luck with this one.

Belphie will casually agree to listen while you fan about your favorite book, but he’s probably going to fall asleep while you’re talking. But it’s not his fault. Your voice when you sound happy just fills him with a sense of peace that lulls him right to sleep.

The worst part about that is that you’ll stop talking, disappointed that he fell asleep; but then he’ll moan a little, open one eye, and say, “No, go on. I’m still listening. I want you to keep talking.”

No, actually, the worst part is that you can be so certain he’s not paying attention that you’ll ask him a relevant question, and he’ll actually get it right. You could have sworn you heard snoring a minute ago. Gaslight. Gatekeep. God literally cast him out.

Wants to be cuddled or use you as a pillow while you talk. It makes him feel comfortable, but more importantly, if you try to leave him (to try to fan about the book with someone else because you think Belphie is asleep, for example), he can easily tighten his grip around you and keep you there.

Asks you to read your favorite passages to him to help him relax – and while you’re at it, could you pet him? He’s spoiled; we already know this.

If you seem to be really into it, he might pick up the book and give it a read, but he might not commit to finishing it. He will, however, use that book as a pillow at least once – especially if it’s your copy.

Diavolo

He loves when you do this, and are we really surprised by this puppy-energy man? Your enthusiasm is contagious for him, and he adores being the one to provide you with the space to fan about any and everything you love.

He’s so excited to listen to you that he will stop in the middle of his work sometimes – and it’s not just because he doesn’t want to do his work. Seriously, though, in order to avoid Barbatos’s scorn, you should probably only ask to talk about something you love after Diavolo’s done with his work. Actually, telling him you want to fan with him after he finishes work for the day would probably incentivize him to work harder.

He'll hype you up and take a serious interest in what you’re talking about. Halfway through, he’ll be sold. More often than not, you’ll get Diavolo into the book. Even better, he doesn’t mind spoilers, so you can talk to your heart’s content.

Diavolo will try to read the book as soon as possible, but it takes him forever (without magic). There are not enough hours in the day for a busy prince, but he’s trying his best.

I’m convinced that Diavolo would try to get out of social engagements, mostly with people he’s not very fond of, when he’s trying to get through a book you like. His desire to keep reading doesn’t sway Barbatos very often – but if it’s someone who isn’t too important and whom Barbatos finds annoying himself, he might just corroborate a little excuse to get out of the social engagement.

A silly little thought: Diavolo would definitely still read a book you recommended while playing a game of chess with Lucifer, and Lucifer would be so annoyed by that when he still loses, but he wouldn’t even know what to say (If you’re going to beat me, please don’t spend the match with your nose in a book?). Lucifer would feel even worse if it’s a romance or erotica that Diavolo’s reading. Ha.

Barbatos

This lovely man will make arrangements so you can talk about it over tea with him. If you can wait a day to fan about it, he will do a bit of research and make themed sweets and tea to complement your book. He’d invite you out into the garden when the weather is nice – and where he can have you all to himself.

He might not feel engaged with the topic of the book, but you’d never guess from the keen attention he gives you. He’s attentive the entire time, with a sweet smile resting on his lips when you get excited as you talk. Barbatos doesn’t interrupt, and he lets the words flow from your mouth.

The entire time, Barbatos will be taking mental notes, considering how your experience of the book reflects on your personality. He likes to think of it as an insight into that wonderful mind of yours.

If you mention spicy scenes in the book, he will take interest – it just won’t show. You can bet he’ll get a copy of that book later and read it in secret. He’d like to get a better understanding about what you might be into. (He’ll do this with romance, too.) However, if he’s feeling bold, he might just ask to borrow your copy in an unnecessarily sultry tone.

Even if he doesn’t read the book, he will compile a list of your favorites. He’s the type to use that information to influence date ideas or to inspire his cooking/baking. He doesn’t mention that his inspiration came from your favorite books unless you bring it up, though.

Simeon

He’s happy to hear about it. As the designated author, he appreciates your insight more than the others might. He thinks it’s fascinating to hear what you enjoyed about a specific novel. (And he definitely doesn’t use that to influence his future writing. No, not at all.)

Like Barbatos, Simeon will invite you to talk over a cup of tea. However, Simeon is more casual with the whole affair. He’s a little less possessive about it as well. If the contents of the book are Luke-safe, he’ll host you in the living room. If the book is scary or spicy, he’ll invite you to talk in his room. (He might also do this if he’s feeling a little more lonely than usual.)

Simeon is such a good listener, he engages with you well, and his reactions are subtle but appropriate. He’ll ask you a fair number of questions, although some of them are more geared towards his interest in something you mentioned (not that that’s bad, though).

Other than Satan, he could probably keep you talking the longest. He can naturally converse about books, and he’d weave in elements from other books either of you have read. In other words, you can talk to your heart’s content or until you’re exhausted. (And Simeon would never prolong conversations just to tire you out and convince you to stay the night with him . . . right?)

He’ll read the book you like if it strikes him as interesting as a whole – and not just certain elements of it – or if you recommend it personally. He doesn’t assume that just because you talk about a book with him, you think he’ll enjoy reading it himself. You’re welcome to talk about something he would normally find dull. He waits for your direct recommendation because it feels special, like you’re actually thinking about him and his tastes when you recommend a book.

Solomon

Solomon is down so bad, of course he’ll read the book for you. He even uses that little magic trick of his to read it instantly in preparation for you to fan out – just so he can engage with you better. It’s not always possible, but usually he manages to get the book read beforehand.

If you’re not embarrassed to gush about a book in public, he’ll ask you out on a date. “Of course you can talk about your new favorite book, what do you say we talk about it over a drink – or are you hungry? We could eat, too.”

Honestly, he’s so cute because if he happens to share the same opinion as you do about aspects of the book, he gets all happy – just the biggest, sappiest grin. He feels a special connection with you when that happens.

Happily discusses plot and symbolism, and he loves to hear your take on different elements.

The shady old man tries to squeeze another date out of you by taking advantage of knowing that you just finished a good book. It’s the perfect time for him to invite you on a library or bookstore date to look for a new one.

Offers to start a little book club for two with you. He can use his magic to read the book when you’re done (so you aren’t pressured to read quickly, and he’s not tempted to give you any spoilers). Or, if you don’t mind, you could read the book together. Solomon wouldn’t mind spending hours snuggled up next to you, reading against your shoulder.

Thirteen

She hypes you up and lets you talk as much as you would like. She thinks it’s adorable that you came to her because you wanted to talk about a book you love. It’s an honor, and she finds it so endearing, especially since Thirteen goes to you to talk about her latest traps, too. You’re just exchanging thoughts on things you’re passionate about, and isn’t that incredibly romantic?

The discussions can have a gossip-like feel to it. Thirteen will happily shit talk your least favorite characters with you. She’ll be extra into the plot if it includes morally grey villains – she loves a bad one.

Likely to invite you to chat with her at her cave (lots of privacy. . .to be as extra as you want to be. What were you thinking?) Might work on her traps while you talk, but if it starts to get interesting, Thirteen will stop what she’s doing until she’s practically draped over your body, listening to you intently.

Absolutely smitten with the way your voice gets impassioned. You could talk all day and she’d stay glued to your hip. It’s a precious bonding activity for her.

The most likely to interrupt you randomly with a kiss. “I’m sorry, you were just so adorable. I had to. Please keep talking.”

If the book sounds up her alley, she’ll give it a read. If not, she won’t; well, maybe if you give her a “please” she’ll consider something that she wouldn’t usually read. Although, for books she has no interest in, she might still take a peek at some of the spicy scenes if you mention them. She wants to know what her partner is into.

Raphael

You are welcome to talk to him about whatever you please while he sews (if you can keep the volume at a reasonable level), but he’s pretty low energy, so don’t expect much. It’s not that he’s apathetic to what you’re saying, he just doesn’t emote like that.

He won’t ever mention it, but he switches to hand-sewing when you want to talk about something you’re passionate about, like a new favorite book. Raphael usually has something he can work on that doesn’t include a machine. He doesn’t want the sewing machine noises to interrupt you and make you feel like he isn’t listening to you. (Unless he has one of those “silent” sewing machines, I guess. Lucky.)

In his eyes, you’re incredibly cute when you ramble about things. He’s kind of used to it (I bet Michael can talk his ear off). Your voice soothes him, and it’s a nice way to pass time and fill the silence without causing too much stress. I imagine he tends to sew in relative silence.

Raphael gets tense in ways that are just barely noticeable if you bring up romance or sex scenes. He tries not to make it obvious that he’s listening to you closely. If you want to fluster him, talk to him about some raunchy smut. He’ll be a mess.

If you happen to pique his interest, he’ll secretly go out and get the book so he can read it for himself. He might not tell you about it, though (because he’s emotionally stunted, and reading a book mostly because you like it and it seems interesting enough is so frustratingly intimate).

Would absolutely make references to the book as a way of flirting with you – sometimes it’s going to flop, but he keeps doing it. He’s nothing if not consistent.

Mephistopheles

It’s not that surprising that a good journalist is also a good listener. Like Lucifer, he acts like it’s a bit of an inconvenience – at least until he clears the rest of his day and invites you over for a glass or two of Demonus. He ends up letting you talk for as long as you please, and if you ask if he’s bored or if he wants you to stop, he insists that it’s fine in the most dick-ish way he can while still being affectionate/flirty. “No, not at all. You’re keeping me entertained on an otherwise boring night. I have no complaints – although I find that you’re sitting a bit too far for comfort.”

Sir. It’s probably your fault you had a boring night ahead. But he might also just say that to play down his desire to listen to you talk. He’ll cancel plans with most people for you – except Diavolo or the House of Lords – if he’s able to.

Mephisto is able to find some point of interest in the book you want to fan about even if he doesn’t care at all about anything else you’ve mentioned. It could be the most horrendous, pointless garbage to him, and he will find an angle to connect with you. He’s more interested in exploring your thoughts than he is any book (and if you get enough Demonus in him, he might actually admit that).

In a weird way, it actually annoys him how charming he finds you when you’re talking about something you care about. He appreciates that passionate side of you, and a selfish part of him hopes that no one else gets to see you like that.

Just – maybe don’t mention spicy scenes in the book that you enjoyed (if that’s what you like reading... I mean you're on my blog sooo). Your talk will be over quickly – unless you want to read the book aloud while he follows the text like an instruction manual. He might use some of the lines just to get you riled up. He’s terrible.

He uses his wealth to help fund your obsession. He’ll get you merch, purchase first editions, get items from the book brought to life through expensive customs, etc. If he thinks it’ll make you happy, he’ll spoil you a bit.

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reluctantjoe · 6 months

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‘Baddies are my new type’: Mathew Baynton on Ghosts, Wonka and wicked villains

He is about to say goodbye to his role in beloved spectral sitcom Ghosts. But dastardly turns in Wonka and the a festive Agatha Christie drama suggest the actor’s future is bright – if somewhat nefarious

“I feel like I’m moving into really wanky territory now,” says Mathew Baynton, looking a little anxious. We are talking about Ghosts, the much-loved comedy about a gaggle of spirits consigned to spend the afterlife in a crumbling country mansion, which Baynton co-writes and in which he plays a deceased Regency poet. After a triumphant five seasons, Ghosts officially breathed its last in October – except there’s now a Christmas episode on its way. (Last year’s Christmas special drew 5.9 million viewers, making it the BBC’s biggest comedy of 2022.)

When I ask Baynton what it is about Ghosts that struck a chord with viewers, he worries he might sound pretentious. “But here goes,” he says. “I have learned that, as a writer, you don’t always know what you’re writing. There are the quite boring times where you have an idea and it comes out as you imagined, and there’s no mystery in that process. But when it’s exciting, you have an idea and it leads you to places you don’t expect.”

With Ghosts, he and his co-writers initially imagined hundreds of spirits haunting Button House, which would have allowed them to tell different stories with a new set of characters each week. “But when we looked at the taster tape we made, we all went: ‘Hang on, there’s something much richer here,’” Baynton continues. “We realised it was a show about people being stuck together, potentially in eternity, and how they find ways to get along. All of which is to say that I’m enamoured with Ghosts too because, right from the get-go, we had absolutely no idea what it would become.”

Baynton, who is 43, is talking from his study at home in north London where he lives with his partner, the film historian and film-maker Kelly Robinson, and their two children. He is self-effacing and thoughtful, choosing his words carefully and, at intervals, wondering if he could be expressing himself better. “I think it’s partly the writer in me,” he says, “but I do come away from conversations thinking how I’d like to rewrite things I’ve said.”

As an actor, Baynton has cornered the market in ultra-sensitive men who walk a fine line between pathos and silliness. Along with his lovelorn poet in Ghosts, there was his turn as a Victorian psychiatrist in 2017’s Quacks, who masterminds a new treatment for patients called “talking”; his lute-playing bard in the 2015 film Bill, about the early life of Shakespeare (“London is not going to know what hit it!”); and good Samaritan Sam in The Wrong Mans (2013-14), which he co-wrote and starred in alongside James Corden.

But this winter heralds a new set of projects that Baynton has dubbed “my Christmas of villainy”. In Murder Is Easy, based on the Agatha Christie novel about a spate of killings in a sleepy English village, he plays a doctor who, he says, “is an awful person with some very awful views”. Next year brings A Good Girl’s Guide to Murder, based on Holly Jackson’s bestselling YA novel, in which a young true-crime enthusiast investigates a five-year-old murder case; Baynton can’t reveal too much, although he confirms his character is a far cry from the puppy-eyed romantics for which he is known. And in the Charlie and the Chocolate Factory prequel, Wonka, released in cinemas earlier this month, he plays the devious Fickelgruber, Wonka’s Brylcreemed rival in the confectionery business.

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Baynton can’t account for this sudden pivot into treachery beyond the fact that “a few [casting directors] had the same idea at the same time … Acting is strange like that. You do one notable thing early on and you are put on a track that for 10 years that can be hard to get off. Perhaps baddies are my new type.”

Wonka was co-written by his friend and Ghosts compadre Simon Farnaby (who also co-wrote Paddington 2) and was filmed at Warner Bros Studios in Hertfordshire. For Baynton, it “felt like you were with the same kids but in a plush playground … Even though you’re working with this huge Hollywood star [Timothée Chalamet, who plays Wonka] and you’re on a set that probably cost the same as an entire series of Ghosts, it’s still a comedy with a big heart, so for me it felt like home.”

Baynton and Farnaby first came together on the set of Horrible Histories, the anarchic children’s sketch show that recreated history’s most ludicrous and bloodthirsty moments, alongside Martha Howe-Douglas, Jim Howick, Laurence Rickard and Ben Willbond. Shortly after it finished its decade-long run, the six of them wrote the madcap puppet comedy Yonderland, largely because “we couldn’t bear that we weren’t going to get together for more mucking about in front of the camera”. This was followed by Bill, and, four years later, Ghosts. They have even given themselves the collective name Them There, mostly for production credits, though “no one actually calls us that”. Aren’t they more Britcom’s answer to the Brat Pack? “I don’t know about that,” Baynton says, bashfully, “though it depends on which of them you think I am.”

The youngest of three children, Baynton grew up in Southend on a diet of sea air and his dad’s Monty Python cassettes. He reckons being lowest in the pecking order at home contributed to his desire to perform and be noticed. In his teens, he went through a morose period during which he was overtaken by self-consciousness, but then he discovered theatre via a production of Bruno Schulz’s The Street of Crocodiles by Theatre de Complicité “which moved me to tears in ways I couldn’t understand and ignited something in me. I knew I wanted to be in that world in some way.”

Baynton went on to drama school, where he studied directing, but when he got there he realised acting was his calling. He spent a summer as assistant to Cal McCrystal, then director of the physical theatre group Peepolykus, who pushed him to join in with improv games. Later he went to Paris to study under the renowned clown Philippe Gaulier, which cemented his love of slapstick. Upon returning home, McCrystal gave him his first break on the stage in a production of Joe Orton’s Loot.

But it was Horrible Histories that really opened doors for Baynton, both as an actor and writer. On being offered the job, he nearly turned it down, fearing that he might get stuck doing nothing but children’s TV, but his agent persuaded him to take the job by telling him: “No one will see it.” In a talk last year at the Oxford Union, Baynton remarked how, were they making it today, they would do certain things differently, such as not using white actors in tanning makeup to portray Egyptians.

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“I think it’s important that we examine where the line is [around portrayals of other cultures],” he says now. “It’s a murky area where intention sometimes doesn’t match reception. Certainly, no one had bad intentions making Horrible Histories and none of us at that time, in the culture as it was, hesitated and thought: ‘Hang on, maybe I shouldn’t play an Egyptian.’ But times have changed and I would hesitate now.”

If the odd Horrible Histories sketch hasn’t aged well, it is worth observing the sensitivity and inclusivity that runs through Ghosts. Baynton notes how throwing together characters from different historical periods allowed them to “highlight wrongful attitudes and interrogate how they had arrived at them. At one point, there’s a gay wedding at Button House and [the ghost of] Lady Button is appalled and goes on this journey in which she faces her own homophobia. When we were writing that story, it felt like I was having a conversation with my homophobic nan.”

Baynton is content moving between acting and writing, not least because “if I’m between acting jobs, it means I get to dream up new projects for myself and my friends”. Keen to avoid any signs of egotism as his career soars, Baynton keeps his feet on the ground by recalling the “pure dystopian hell” of his time as a school leaver working in a call centre. There, every second of the day was monitored and he was once upbraided by a manager for taking too many toilet breaks. “So when I’m on set in a scratchy costume or I’m feeling a bit tired and thinking what a terrible time I’m having,” he says, “I remember that time, and what a privilege it is do what I do.”

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writingquestionsanswered · 1 year

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how do i make my writing more mature? i’ve been told that my writing is fitting for YA novels but i don’t really want to write for that audience so is there a way to change my writing style so it’s more mature?

"Writing More Fitting for YA Novels"

I just want to start out by saying that the notion that YA novels typically or broadly feature immature writing is derogatory against young adult readers and completely untrue. So, we REALLY need to get away from that mentality. :)

YA novels feature some of the most mature, creative, and compelling writing in the literary world. If someone criticized your writing quality by saying it was more fitting of YA, that's not someone whose opinion you should be listening to.

Novels written for young adults are centered more around themes, issues, and situations young adults will strongly identify with. So, things like first love, figuring out who you are and where you belong, and relationship issues that come along with changing and gaining more independence. However, these situations and issues are typically written without the prose itself being juvenile.

How to Make Writing More Mature

The first thing to do is to determine what's making anyone think your writing is immature. Is it that you're trying to write an adult story but you're focusing on too many young adult issues? Or is it that the quality of your prose itself is coming off as juvenile?

If you're trying to write an adult story, look at the themes in your story and the kinds of issues your characters are facing. If you see a lot of young adult themes (coming of age, finding belonging, first love, loss of innocence), you'll need to recalibrate and find ways to upgrade the themes, issues, and situations to ones that are more adult-oriented and less young adult oriented.

If your story doesn't feature young adult characters dealing with young adult situations and issues, it sounds like the issue is more prose-based, in which case this is probably an experience issue. While there are things you can do now to upgrade your prose (more sophisticated grammar/word choice, better use of figures of speech and wordplay, eliminating purple prose, limiting use of filter words), for the most part, improving the quality of your prose is something that takes time and practice. You need to read a lot of adult books and practice by writing a lot of adult stories with upgraded prose, then getting feedback from adult readers to see what's working and what isn't. In time, you'll refine a more adult writing style. :)

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mybworlds · 5 months

Text

CHAPTER 5

status: ongoing

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: your life is full of 'must'. You live with your overprotective mother who controls every aspect of your life. You have a dream, to write romance novels, but love - real love - you haven't found yet. Your mother has even decided what you must do in your free time: play music. One day, however, when you go to your music teacher's house, you will have an unexpected encounter and from that day on things change…

Masterlist

rating: 18+ explicit (minors, DNI)

Before to start... thank you for your support, if you like it pls leave a like/comment/reblog it, if you don't like it don't be rude and keep going. Please remember English is not my first language, so please be merciful!

Thanks @vase-of-lilies for the banner

Joel takes great care of you, prepares the fire, he carries you by the fire, he gives you his blanket although you don't want to, you finally manage to convince him to share it. It's a very large blanket that can wrap both of you. You feel good although the temperature is freezing outside.

"You are a really sweet person, why are you alone?" you ask him biting your lower lip feeling sorry you asked something so personal "Sorry. None of my business." you add with a sigh.

You watch him shaking his hands nervously. Maybe you made him uncomfortable and you're deeply sorry. You're okay with him, a lot, and so you feel sorry even more considering how he always made you comfortable. Except maybe the first time you met.

You stay silent, the only sound the crackling of the fire. Maybe neighter of you wants to break the silence. Or can.

"Actually, I was in love. A long time ago." he tells you "Her name was Jess, her name is Jess." he glances down at his hands holding in a nervous gesture.

"Where is she now?" you ask him genuinely curious.

He looks at you "She left."

"Why?"

He smiles "Are ya a snoop dogg, aren't ya?"

"Sorry, none of my business." you reply glancing down, but the truth is curiosity is killing you. You want to know, you want to know Joel, his true self, what's behind those dark eyes, over that face, you really want to know him.

You feel him smile "No, don' worry. She's a singer, a pop-country singer, she always wanted to travel, she didn' want to stay in the same place for more than a year or two. For a while, I was with her, but then-- it's over." he tells you watching the fire.

"Didn' you love her anymore?" you ask.

He looks at you "Love turns, with time it changes. Don't know if I wasn't in love with her anymore or if I was tired 'bout that life and I needed something else. Anyway, she left. Alone." he says glancing down "That's why, as I said, I wish you a non-tragic love that makes you happy. If that's the one and if that's what you want." he adds taking a look laden of words.

"Have you ever tried to have her back?" Maybe-- catching up?" you ask trying to silence that persistent little voice inside you that makes you eager to know the man next to you, the way he makes you feel so special and wanted.

"Sure. I reached out to her twice and we met halfway once and once again at my house." he takes a break "Make love to her, it was like nothing has changed and for a while our problems looked far or solvable, almost." he takes a break again barely squeezing his lips "Then, our problems started again which means we returned to our lives."

"And you like this life?" you ask without looking away from his face.

"You're just full of questions, aren't you?" he asks.

You glance down "It's just-- if I can help you, I'm glad."

"How'd you help an old guy like me?" he asks you amused.

You return his smile "You're not an old guy, Joel! I mean, you are much younger than many young people I know!" you say looking away and watching the fire.

"And how'd I be? How do ya see me?" he asks.

Your heart loses a beat. You don't want to say inappropriate or easily misunderstood words. You don't answer, delay on the answer, you bite your lower lip and then you answer "You're a good man, you've a good heart. Although, you do everything to keep others away, but I'll tell you more, you're no good."

"Really? Is this how you see me? As a good man?" he asks you "What if it's not my true self?" you swallow "If it's just a mask?"

"It's not." you reply "I met a lot of masks, Joel, and your is a true face. I wonder how much pain you had to endure to be so hard. On me, on the others-- on yourself." you say holding his gaze.

"You're a sweet kid, y'know." he says and only then you fulfill he's looking insistently your lips, what if...?

Oh, Gosh!

Your phone's buzzing. Once, twice, ten times. Only then you remember you turned on vibration, you look away unwillingly and unlock your phone finding several messages, among them at least a dozen are of your mother.

Some messages saying "Where are you?", "Why don't you answer when I call?", "Do I need to call the police?", "Pick up the phone or you are going nowhere for a month!"

"Oh, shit."

"What's wrong?" he asks noticing your concerned look.

"My mum, I've to call her." you answer dialing her number.

Your mum is really mad at you and when it happens, she calls you using your full name, then she starts to ask different questions, and none of them are good. She starts to say that she believed you were kidnapped or thrown somewhere and you once again tell her you're not a kid anymore, but rather an adult lady.

Your mother is really furious and she says she must be warned about where, when, how and with whom you want to plan an evening out. Then, she starts to ask where you are and with whom.

You lie, you can't tell you're with Joel in the woods, she'd make contact with the military! You’re at the home of one of the girls at a last minute sleepover, you say looking to Joel who raise both eyebrows with a puzzled and amused look. You have to look away or you'd tell the truth, knowing you.

Put her on the phone, she asks, but you tell her she's in the shower and you're choosing a movie to watch together later.

She believes you.

Or at least you hope so.

"So, I'd be a friend, a girl?! What would my name be?" he asks when the phone call is over, you're going to answer, but he adds smiling "Don' wanna know. I've told my parents lies too when I was younger, much younger!" he cries out making you smile.

Once again your phone vibrates, it's the chat with your friends.

"Sis, where r u?" it's Kristen, a very sweet and supportive friend, maybe she's the one who looks like you character and physically.

"R u with your hunk?" it's Helen, you blush turning toward Joel who looks at you with a smile, and luckily he doesn't read your chat.

"Which hunk?" it's Gina, your friend lover of the pleasures of sex.

"Today a man came to the bar and he started to ogle her!" Helen writes.

"OH MY GOD! I WANT A PICTURE OF HIM, I MUST GIVE AN OPINION!" Gina adds.

"For you, r they making things...?" asks Helen.

You decide to write something "Hello girls, I'm in a cabin in the woods. Yes, I'm with him. The hunk - as u call him - his name is Joel and he's a very sweet man."

"MAN?!?! HOW OLD IS HE???" it's Gina again.

"He's in his late 40s."

"U r soooooooo lucky!" Gina writes "Men of that age have sooo much experience, he will make u cum and have fun. Let him teach you something useful-- ;) Kids our age are so boring." you won't answer anymore, you lock the screen. You're purple, not red.

"What's up? You're all flush. Problems?" Joel asks.

"Have you ever had such an embarrassing group of friends that sometimes you want to pretend not to know?" you ask him without answering.

"Yes."

"Well, there are two of them, they made inappropriate comments." you say shaking your head.

"About whom?"

You feel stupid and now what do you say? About you?

Of course not.

"About me and my total inexperience of any kind." you answer feeling your cheeks blush and carefully avoiding his look.

You just told him you’re a virgin. Great!

"Forget 'bout your friends, now." he says "Brought you something, well for the both of us. Got it this morning and I put it to warm." he says showing two bags, he gives you one.

You open it curious and you see in the bag a croissant with honey, your favourite. You turn toward him giving him a kiss on the cheek and putting your hands on the back of his neck "Thank you."

You feel him smiling and kiss you on your forehead.

No one has ever done it before. Get a kiss on the forehead has always been the most beautiful gesture for you, even better than a kiss on the lips. For you it always meant protection, love, respect.

You close your eyes when you get this kiss, you back up an inch or two, finding yourselves at a small distance.

Will he kiss you? Or will you - even with all your inexperience - kiss him?

You watch every line, every curve, the look in his eyes, every little wrinkle and you find him irresistibly attractive. Life is really strange, you think again. It's a recurring thought now.

He doesn't kiss you neither do you. He smiles at you and invites you to eat, even if you’re not hungry anymore.

The rest of the evening you spend it by the fireplace sometimes giving you dumb looks, you sometimes tell him jokes - or what your friends say are jokes - and you see him holding back the smile sometimes and try to be serious, but his wrinkles in the corners of his eyes and lips betray him and you cannot help but laugh and drag him in a contagious laughter.

You're sure, you're fond of him.

You spent many hours together and in such a short time that makes you think your relationship is changing with certainty. Maybe it's too soon, maybe not, but the truth is everything is going too fast and you often don't even have time to focus on the situation.

He takes you to bed and he lays you on the blanket, "How's your knee doin'?" he asks you sitting on the bed next to you.

You smile at him "Less painful." you answer watching him.

"Good, so I go. 'night." he says getting up and moving away.

"Joel!"

He stops "Stay." you tell him surprise of your own request, he gives you a look "For sleeping." you clarify with a tone that had to be sure, but it's actually trembling and unsure.

He smiles at you soothing.

"Sure." he adds "I've a warm blanket for you too. We sleep with all our clothes on." he clarifies interpreting your fear about how you'd have slept.

You feel the bed to bend under his weight. On one hand you don't have the courage to turn your gaze to him, on the other hand you want to see him in the bed. At such a personal moment, you wonder how he is...

There's a flood outside, thunders echoing around the cabin, lightnings continuously illuminate the room. You close your eyes, but you can't sleep. You climb into your blanket, you can't sleep and not just because of the storm.

"You can't sleep, can you?" he asks you.

You turn toward him and you watch him lying on his back. His eyes are open and an arm under his head.

"No." you answer "Maybe it's because of the bed, I'm not used to sleeping in another bed except mine."

"Yes, maybe." he replies "Sure." he adds staring at the ceiling.

"What about you?" you ask watching him.

"Was thinking." he answers.

"'bout?"

"Your earlier question" you try to remember about this question that took away his sleep "if I like this life."

"Joel, I didn't mean to upset you, 'm sorry."

You see him smile "Babygirl, it's been years since I don't ask myself existential questions, then you came along and you turned everything upside down." he admits "I didn't believe that meet my bro' student would turn everything!"

"I'm..." you are not sure about what to say if you have to apologize or just listen to him.

"Thank you," he says "For being here with me, for knocking on that door, for not having left everything immediately. You brought a sweet wind into my life." he adds.

In a rush which surprises even you, you surround his chest with an arm and you lay your head close to his own on his pillow.

"You're sweet even in these reactions, little girl." he says turning his head toward your. You are once again forehead against forehead.

Your heart pounds, your eyes are shut, it's in that position that you fall asleep.

That night, that's the first night you've a dirty dream, you dream about kiss him and be kissed by him, you dream about his hands caresses your whole body, you dream to get lost in his eyes and let you go to his caresses.

When you wake up, you realize your breathing is short and sweating all over.

Joel seems not to have noticed anything, he sleeps peacefully. His face turned towards you, lips parted, his brown hair falls in disorder on the forehead, his wrinkles barely hinted, he's so peaceful and sweet while he sleeps, but you feel there's something he doesn't say that hurts him deeply.

You'd like to caress his face, but you can't. You don't want to disturb his sleep.

You smile before you realize you're all wet between your legs. You feel something you've never felt before: your most intimate part throbbing and clenching thinking about your dream. You never felt something like this before.

Your breath breaks, for the first time you wish someone would touch you and let you feel all those feelings that probably you should've already felt. You don't touch yourself, you wouldn’t know where to start and especially not with him so close. The thought he might wake up makes you shake while you're watching what's happening to you right now.

You breathe deeply through your mouth more and more times, trying to put that feeling away, that desire to be touched, not by anyone, by him, by the wonderful man lying next to you, Joel.

In the morning, you find yourself wrapped in your blanket and in an arm that holds you tightly to himself, you feel his strong grip and you can’t help but put your hand on his arm and hold you closer to him, feel that body so warm near your makes you feel so safe, but at the same time you feel out of place, vulnerable.

You get up gently moving his arm and you watch him turning on his back, lips parted and his face relaxed, you want to kiss him. Yes, for the first time you wish to kiss someone in your life. You have to. Your heart pounds, you look down and you think you’re going crazy to have such a desire. An unknown and strong desire is growing inside you.

However, you decide to regain control over your mind and body, you get up. You go in the bathroom and you wash your face with cold water and you think, when you're in town, to look for Jack.

You decide to go around the cabin, look at the many ornaments and then your look falls on the many photos: some photos portray those who are perhaps his parents, others portray two brothers in the mountains, to the lake on two kayaks - Joel has the oars raised and a triumphant expression on the face, Tommy a sad one, maybe they were having a race! - then other photos portray two children who you recognize as Joel and Tommy. Finally, you find two photos different from those of the family: a photo portrays a much younger Joel, maybe he was in his 25 or 30s, and a woman with olive skin and dark curly hair - maybe this woman was his wife!

You take the photo in your hands and you watch at the woman's face, she looks happy, she's beautiful. Then, your gaze falls on the man, on Joel, he's a different man than you know today, not just for his youth, above all his expression is sweet, peaceful, you'd dare to say adoring.

Another photo portrays an happy family at the beach: Joel is with a woman and a baby in the middle with arms pointing upwards and a huge smile on their faces.

"We were really happy that day." Joel says behind you making you jump and by instinct you hide the photo.

His gaze is dark, his hair a messy clump of dark curls, you don't think is angry, but for sure he's not happy to see you snooping through his stuff.

You open your mouth, you're going to apologize but then you change your mind and decide to ask him "What happened to you two? Really, I mean."

You dare, he could rail against you and throw yourself out of that cabin, but he doesn't.

You notice an inner battle on his face, you watch him uncertain if answer you or give you a vague answer, then he sighs loudly and pass his hand in his hair "Y' want to write romance novels, aren't ya?" you nodd "I hope you won't write about my story." you see him swallow "You'd write about a man who has everything and then everything breaks. There's no way to put the pieces together, many pieces miss that don’t match what’s left. End of it." he ends shrugging his shoulders with a bitter tone.

You put the photo down "One day maybe if you want, you can tell me what destroyed everything." you say head down "I'll get the phone, then when you want, we can go."

You overcome him, well you're going to, but he locks you for your wrist "Wait."

You look him in the face and only then he looks up at you, at your eyes "You're exasperating, you're intriguing, you sometimes talk too much, this sweetness of yours sometimes gives on my nerves." he says leaving you speechless, you don't know how to feel about it "but you are the only one I brought here after... and I never shared this place with anyone if not with the people important to me and you, little girl, you got in my heart so fast that---" his voice cracks "I hope I never lose you." he adds.

Those words surprise you.

You feel the same way about him, but you didn't believe he felt the same way. You thought it was a your impression, but it's not.

Your heart pounds. You don't know what his - or your - next move will be, if he goes further or if he will address you only other words of thanks. These events almost shock you.

He grabs gently your face with both hands sticking his fingers in your hair and he gets close to you carefully, he kisses your forehead in another very sweet gesture and you, once again, close your eyes laying your hands on his.

You take a deep breath feeling the scent of his skin and you're almost enchanted, you just squeeze more grip on his warm big hands, he puts his forehead against your and for a moment you find yourself thinking about what it would be like if you could be with him, love him, be loved by him, protected by a man like him. But then, the reason prevails and makes you think that surely a man like him doesn't need an insecure girl, but a strong woman who knows what she wants, just like his ex.

"Please, take me home." you ask squeezing your eyes and holding your breath. if you hadn’t made this request maybe he would have kissed you, but you don't want. Well, it’s not that you don’t want to be kissed by him, you just think you'd feel inadequate around him.

"As you wish." he says by taking his face away from your and then Joel moves away to open the window and look at the sky.

Luckily for you, the sun is up and the birds are chirping.

Part of you started breathing normally again, the other has the feeling that something - well, someone - sucked the air out of your lungs. Your heart beats fast, but why do you always have to complicate things?

Since he dropped you off, you didn't look for him nor for your guitar lessons nor for other reasons. You need to put some space between the two of you, maybe your bond is tightening too much and too fast.

You looked for Jack, from the beginning he was happy to see you, he was very friendly and affectionate. Indeed, he told you he almost didn’t hope to see or hear you again, he says he was almost jelous of your music teacher because he could see you almost every day. You, of course, didn’t tell him about the strange relationship you've with Joel.

You don't think it's necessary, there's nothing to tell!

He invites you to go to a nearby town to have breakfast together, to chit-chat and get to know you better. You immediately accept, you want to know him, but above all remove the thought of Joel as soon as you can from your head first and your heart then.

Jack tells you about his family, his hobbies, he tells he has got a dog - Lex - a wonderful white Labrador - is 3 years almost and he loves her with all his heart and every time she sees him wagging his happy tail, you smile with him. Often. You speak a lot, even about little things, your everyday life, you tell him about your mother and your job. It's easy talk to him, it's easy as breathing. There's a chemistry from the jump. He's sweet, he's caring, any girl would have been fascinated and would have fallen in love. Time flies between a chat and another.

But in a remote corner of your head, Joel, his eyes, his strong scent flowing almost in you and you know that's not good, but you can't help but thinking about him, especially when you and Jack speak about music, your jobs, about your families.

Your smile never fades from your face when you're with him, when Jack rides you home, he gives you a little kiss on your cheek and he says "I had a great time with you. Can I have a second date?" he says so softy that it's impossible for you to refuse. And besides, you don't want to. After all you have been good together.

Slowly you climb the stairs rethinking about the afternoon just gone, you think about Jack's eyes and then you goes to Joel's sweet and reassuring eyes and the way his eyes become two dark pools when he's gloomy. You sigh, Jack can’t fade the Miller.

You put the key in the lock and you come in your house, you take off your scarf and coat, your boots and you wear your slippers, then you go to the kitchen, but you freeze on the door---

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sea-saur · 3 months

Text

Out Of The Way (Omorashi Story)

Ok so I've had this story in my head ever since I saw this post and cranked it out last night/today. I didn't edit it very much, so this is basically a "typed it out, gave it some tweaks and a read over, bing bang boom" kind of deal. Just needed to get it out. Disclaimer: the events in the story are consensual, the couple has done things like this before and any distress mentioned is agreed upon in the context of the story. Also, it's kind of long. Here ya go:

It was a bright Sunday afternoon, and Cyan and Indy were on a date at the mall. They’ve been there for the past three hours, Cyan mostly interested in the bookstore (Cyan finding a graphic novel they’d been looking for, Indy excited about a new horror novel that had just come out), candy shop, and various cute knick knack stores, one of them in which Cyan and Indy both found Pochacco blind bags and, to their delight, pulled their favorites from the set. Cyan was on cloud nine, hazy with love for the day and for Indy.

Except.

Except for the fact that it had been about four hours since they’d last used the bathroom, one hour since they finished a large lemonade from the food court, and half an hour since they started feeling the first inkling that their bladder was starting to fill. They’d decided to ignore it at the time, and maybe see about finding a restroom once they were closer to leaving the mall.

“Oh perfect, here’s the botanical shop, let’s head inside!” Indy said, spotting one of their favorite stores. Indy had a modest yet thriving collection of houseplants and took pride in keeping them healthy. This independent plant store was their favorite spot to pick up soil and other odds and ends, frequenting there so often that they’d become friends with the owners. Cyan loved how well Indy took care of their plants – Cyan wouldn’t touch them, as they were known as a harbinger of death for the poor things. Cyan was better suited for furry creatures to care for than leafy.

“Oh sure!” Cyan agreed, happy to walk through the fresh smelling plants while Indy got more soil for their apartment. They were greeted at the entrance by a waterfall feature – one of those small garden decorations, where the water continually flowed from the top of the stone structure down to the small pool basin. Cyan eyed it nervously, the trickling water reminding them of their own bladder, which tingled uncomfortably at the sound. They quickly followed Indy further into the shop and blessedly, away from the waterfall.

“Violet! Lil!” Indy cheered as they caught sight of the two owners of the shop, a married couple who happened to live just down the street from Cyan and Indy. “Hey you two!” Violet said. “Didn’t tell us you were coming by today.”

“I didn’t know if you were going to be here,” Indy replied. “It’s a Sunday, after all. Don’t you usually have other staff here on Sundays?”

“Yeah, well, two of ours called out sick, what can you do.” Lil shrugged. “How’s it, Cyan?”

Cyan smiled a hello. “S’all good,” they said, shifting their weight and shoving their hands into the pockets of their denim jacket. Their need to pee was more noticeable now, and they hoped that adjusting their stance would help quell the urge while they chatted. It did for a minute, but Cyan soon realized that they couldn’t keep standing still, so they excused themself to go look around the shop while Indy continued to chat. Unfortunately, that meant getting closer to the waterfall again. Cyan’s hands balled into fists in their pockets, mentally urging Indy to hurry up. The insistent splashing of the water into the basin was a tease to Cyan’s bladder, filling up more quickly now that the lemonade had made its way through their system. They were going to need to say something to Indy, and soon.

Thankfully, Indy finished up their purchase and said their goodbyes to Violet and Lil. “Hey, ready to go?” Indy asked Cyan.

“Yes,” Cyan breathed, relieved to finally be away from that waterfall.

“Where would you like to go next?” Indy said.

“Well, actually,” Cyan started, “could we stop at the ah, the bathroom before we keep going?”

“The bathroom?” Indy asked. They cocked their head slightly, feigning confusion, but Cyan immediately saw the knowing glint in their eye. Cyan knew what that look meant and could only hope Indy would take it easy on them.

“Yeah...” Cyan said, somewhat sheepishly. “The bathroom.”

“What do you need the bathroom for?” Indy asked, still playing innocent. Cyan groaned internally.

“I just, well...the lemonade from lunch...”

“Yes?” Indy prompted, smirking.

Cyan felt a blush start to creep on their cheeks. “Well, I finished it about an hour ago and now I just...have to pee.” They finished their sentence in a rush, their bladder panging as a reminder of that fact.

Indy gave an exaggerated nod, as if they were only now connecting the dots. “Oooh, I see. Well, I don’t think it’s time for us to take a bathroom break yet. It’s only been an hour, like you said, since you had anything to drink. Surely you can wait a bit longer.”

“Ah, but,” Cyan huffed, “I need to – “

“In fact,” Indy continued, “it’s probably a good idea if we got you another drink, don’t you think? You’re supposed to drink so much every hour, whatever that recommendation is, I forget exactly. Either way, it’s definitely time for another drink for you.” Indy took Cyan by the hand and began to drag them back to the food court. Cyan gave a small whine in protest.

“Indy, really, I need to pee – “

“No, you don’t.” Indy replied, their tone seeping with excited yet controlled dominance, “You don’t need to go yet, and any of that lemonade that’s filtering through you, well you’ll just have to hold it like a big boy. One lemonade is not enough to need to go.”

Cyan shushed at Indy’s command, letting themself be pulled back to the food court without further arguing. They’ve played this game before, and Cyan accepted that they were playing again now, although how long Cyan could hold off the inevitable...they were unsure. They were even more unsure when they landed at the soda dispenser at the center of the food court – the kind that’s self-serve for over a dozen brand and flavor options – and Indy pulled a large cup from the stack. Cyan squeezed their thighs together at the sight, forcing themself to take a deep breath and try to steady the splashing feeling in their bladder.

“Hmmm, what drink would you like?” Indy asked, looking over the options on the screen. “Oh! They have Cherry Sprite, how about that?” They turned to Cyan, gesturing with the cup.

Cyan wavered. They did like Cherry Sprite, but the large cup...

“Yeah, Cherry Sprite sounds good,” Cyan replied. “But...how about a medium?” they ventured, hoping Indy would take the bait. They didn’t.

“No, a large. We wouldn’t want you to get thirsty and have to come all the way back here, would we?” Indy added some ice, then selected the Cherry Sprite and pushed the pour button. Bright, bubbly soda started gushing out. Cyan groaned, their need to pee escalating with the sound of the drink rushing into the cup. They shifted from one foot to the other, longing for relief that was a far way off.

“Here you go!” Indy chirped, handing Cyan the now full cup. “Drink up.”

Cyan, knowing there was no way out of this, immediately obeyed, their teeth chewing at the straw while they took a large gulp. The citrusy sweet drink fizzled down their throat, and while admittedly it was delicious, it was also a stark reminder of what was already trickling into Cyan’s bladder. Cyan took a few more sips, which pleased Indy. “There,” Indy said, “doesn’t that feel good?”

“Yes,” Cyan gasped, fingers gripping the cup a bit too tight, “feels...feels good.” It did not feel good. It felt like Cyan was a water balloon quickly overfilling itself to pop, the soda and lemonade sloshing together in Cyan’s tummy down to their bladder. They bit their lip nervously, shimmying their hips from side to side.

“Good!” Indy said. “Now let’s go check out some other stores.”

Indy led Cyan throughout the mall over the next half hour, reveling in every squirm, pant, and whimper Cyan made as they went. Indy loved seeing Cyan grow desperate, their little bladder throbbing until Cyan couldn’t take it anymore and begged Indy to let them pee. And this time, Indy had something a little special planned for when that moment finally happened.

Cyan could barely concentrate while Indy dragged them from spot to spot, their need to pee growing rapidly with each sip of their soda. They fidgeted restlessly as Indy presented candles to sniff, game boxes to read, stuffed animals to feel, their bladder quivering below their belly and sending increasingly urgent signals to Cyan that they needed to go! They needed to go now!

“Indy...” Cyan said quietly, swaying from foot to foot as subtly as they could manage, their free hand hovering over their belly while the other held a now half empty soda cup, “please, I have to pee. Please can I go now?”

“Hmm?” Indy looked up nonchalantly from the price tag they were checking. They eyed Cyan’s potty dance and chuckled. “Aww, does my pup have to go so soon?” they mocked. “You haven’t even finished your soda.”

“Hnngg,” Cyan groaned, glancing at the remaining soda in the cup, condensation dripping onto their fingers and sending tingling chills up their spine. “I c-can’t finish this, Indy. I can’t take it anymore!”

“You poor thing. You’re just going to have to hold it, we aren’t going to the bathroom right now.”

“But,” Cyan protested, “but I have to go!”

“You sure sound restless,” Indy replied, ignoring Cyan’s plea, “let’s go take a seat for a minute by the fountain.”

“The fountain?” Cyan said, incredulous, as Indy took them by the hand and walked them to the main water feature of the mall – a giant white stone pool with water shoots spraying sparkling water in a circular pattern. Merry go round animals were hung form the ceiling above, making it all look rather whimsical.

“Yeah, there are benches here,” Indy said, sitting them down. Cyan immediately began to grind down on the bench, fanning their thighs in and out. The rushing water of the fountain was torture to their sensitive bladder, their own pee splashing menacingly against its walls and threatening to make its way down their urethra. “Isn’t this nice?” Indy asked. “I just love watching all this water flowing around us, so free and easy. And the sounds it makes, aren’t they relaxing?”

“Ooooh,” Cyan moaned a reply, writhing in a desperate attempt to find any sort of relief from the tingling all along their lower belly. Indy’s teasing was making the situation exponentially worse, and Cyan wasn’t sure how much longer they could hold back the flood. “Fuck, I gotta go to the bathroom. Indy, please!”

“Big boys don’t need to go without permission. You’re just gonna have to handle it.” Indy made no move to leave the bench. “Now let’s rest here for a bit, enjoy the fountain.” They eyed Cyan. “Drink more of your soda.”

Cyan was decidedly not enjoying the fountain. They took a few quick sips from their soda to appease Indy, but their need to pee was all encompassing. They rocked back and forth on the bench, their legs quivering as their bladder sloshed inside them. The sips of that soda felt like electric bursts sliding through them, making their bladder buzz with fullness. It was torture to sit here and do nothing. Cyan longed to be sitting on a toilet instead, where they could finally relax and release all the liquid pent up about to burst –

With that train of thought, Cyan suddenly felt the first drop of pee tingling at their entrance. They panicked, jumping up from the bench and squeezing their thighs together, frozen. Fuck, no, please not a leak! Not yet! They thought frantically.

“Is something wrong?” Indy asked innocently. “Don’t you want to finish your soda before we go?”

“N-no more soda, please!” Cyan begged, crossing one leg over the other and bending at the waist. Their bladder threatened that drop closer and closer to their tip, and Cyan was desperate to gain any amount of control. “Indy, I need a bathroom, now! I have to pee so bad, please.”

Indy shook their head. “Not until you’ve finished that soda,” they replied. “Until then, you keep holding it in.”

Cyan shook their head, unable to fathom putting any more liquid into their already thrashing bladder. Pee rippled along their lower half and they wrapped their arms around themself in need. “B-but I’m going to leak!” they whispered loudly. It was thankfully pretty deserted at this area of the mall, but Cyan was still embarrassed to be seen standing like this in public.

“Not my problem,” Indy replied, although their piercing eyes and upturned smirk indicated that they were certainly enjoying the show. “You’ll hold it until you’ve finished your drink. Big boys should be able to hold two drinks without needing to pee.”

Cyan shivered, deciding quickly to obey Indy rather than waste more time arguing, and guzzled down the rest of the drink. They sucked at the straw until the cup was empty, sugary cherry flavor coating their tongue and sloshing into their belly. They gasped when they were done, “There! It’s gone. Can I please go to the bathroom now?”

Indy mock sighed, but nodded. “Well, really you shouldn’t need to go yet, since you only just finished your drink, but since you did listen very well, I suppose I could let you pee now.” Indy stood up and began moving towards the restrooms located on the other side of the fountain.

I’m going to make it, Cyan thought triumphantly, scurrying along with Indy, thighs rubbing together as they walked. I’m so close to peeing oooh god, oh god please let me make it to the door –

“Closed for Cleaning”

Immediately Cyan’s stomach dropped, and their bladder threatened to burst right there in their pants. The sight of the closed sign outside the bathroom was unbelievable, after their body was so ready to release. Cyan tensed their muscles and moaned, leaning against the side wall. “Indy, Indy it’s closed!” they whined. “A-another bathroom, please, now!”

“Oh dear,” Indy said, sounding much less surprised than Cyan. “It looks like they are closed. Too bad. Can’t you just wait until we get home?”

Home? Home was 45 minutes away, plus the bumpy roads and seatbelts, Cyan couldn’t stomach the thought. They hissed as a sharp throb of their bladder caused them to sway their hips and throw their head back in desperation. “I won’t make it home!” they cried. “I need to pee right now!”

“Well, if you really don’t think you can hold it...I do know where another bathroom is around here.” Indy eyed Cyan hungrily, flashing a shark like grin at the state of them. “It’s a bit out of the way, Violet told me about it earlier at the shop. It’s one that employees will sometimes use if they want to cheat into having a longer bathroom break by walking the distance. It’s always open, unlike the other bathrooms here on a Sunday cleaning schedule.”

“Yes!” Cyan panted. “Anything, Indy, just take me now! Please!”

“If you insist,” Indy replied. They took Cyan by the hand and guided them back across the mall.

Cyan wriggled and danced next to Indy, fighting off urge after bubbling urge to release their pent up piss right there in their pants, all onto the mall floor. After a minute of walking, Indy took Cyan through a side door, one that usually looks like an employee entrance to the back doors of the stores. On the wall inside there was a painted bathroom sign, and an arrow pointing to the right. Indy led a trembling Cyan in that direction, and through a set of double doors leading to –

Another long hallway. Cyan turned to Indy, panicked and confused and drowning in their own piss. “Indy, where’s the bathroom? The sign, it said it was this way!”

“It is,” Indy replied, continuing to walk. “I told you, it’s a bit further away. We have to keep walking. Just hold it, pup.”

Cyan was holding it, they were trying so hard to hold it, but the pressure was too much. They were bursting, their need so bad that they felt like their entire insides were just lemonade and cherry soda, sloshing around inside them like a bottle ready to pop. They whimpered, hurrying along the hallway.

It soon became apparent that Indy was telling the truth about how far away this bathroom was. They passed through three more doorways with signs indicating to go left or right to find the bathroom, but all they kept finding was more hallway, and no relief in sight. Cyan felt wild, animal like in their primal need to release. When they came to a short three step decline in their path, Cyan stumbled their way down, and in their hard landing felt their bladder shudder and a small spurt of pee escaped, wetness blooming on their underwear.

“Ahhh-“ Cyan hissed, freezing in place and shoving a hand into their crotch. Pee tickled their entrance, and Cyan moaned as they fought back another wave that threatened to come out. Their entire lower body trembled to hold back the ocean that was roaring inside them from exploding out. Ooooooh, I have to pee! Cyan moaned internally. I’m going to piss myself! Please, where is the bathroom, I need a bathroom!

“What’s the matter?” Indy asked, looking to Cyan. “Did puppy spring a leak?” Their tone was casual, teasing. Cyan whined.

“Ooooh, y-yes, yes I leaked,” they confessed, bending their knees and twisting their legs together as they bounced in place. “Indy, where is this bathroom? I c-can’t hold it anymore!”

“It’s a bit further this way,” Indy said, gesturing to yet another door that surely led to another corridor and likely not to the immediate relief of a glistening, porcelain toilet that Cyan had been longing for well over two hours now.

“I n-need a toilet now, Indy! Now!” Cyan tried to straighten up, teetering as their piss sloshed back and forth in their bladder, warning of another leak. Their pee hole tingled menacingly, the sensation utterly unbearable.

“We’re going, we’re going,” Indy replied, continuing to walk forward. “Well, you’re not going yet, but we’ll get there. Until then, I expect you to be a good pup and hold it.”

“Ooooh, hurry, please hurry Indy,” Cyan pleaded, picking up the pace with them and squeezing their thighs as they walked. Pee crashed against their bladder walls as they moved. “I can’t hold it!”

“You’ll just have to find some way to handle it,” Indy replied, not walking nearly fast enough for Cyan’s liking. “There’s nowhere for you go to yet.”

Cyan felt their bladder surge downwards at Indy’s comment, rejecting that fact with the more pressing fact that Cyan couldn’t not piss. They were full to the brim and already starting to runneth over. After passing yet another set of useless double doors and banking another right following another useless bathroom sign, they felt another splash of urine flow down their urethra. Cyan doubled over, bouncing and moaning, practically on their knees with how scrunched up they were, dying to hold it, just hold it a few more minutes, surely the bathroom has to be close by now?

Indy looked down at Cyan’s frantic grinding and moaning and gave them a gentle touch on the shoulder. They were unbelievably turned on, and also impressed of how far Cyan was making it. It’s maybe the longest they’ve held during this game. “C’mon pup,” Indy said. “Get up. Hold it, we’re almost there.”

With a groan, Cyan stood up, and felt a sudden electric current of pure desperate need run up their spine. Their whole body was tingling, their lower belly shaking with the effort of holding back more piss than Cyan had ever held in their life. “Ooooh, I can’t take it anymore!” they cried, making a mad dash forward down the hallway and through the next set of doors, hand shoved haphazardly into their crotch. They could hear Indy’s feet hitting the floor behind them, keeping up. “I’m going to have an accident! I need to gooooo!”

Cyan burst through the next set of double doors, and to their surprise, found themself in an underground parking lot. They had just enough time to register the thought this must be extra parking for employees before their bladder shuddered and a spray of pee escaped past their shaking hand, trickling down Cyan’s thigh inside their cargo pants.

I’m peeing! I’m peeing! They thought frantically. They looked around but didn’t see a bathroom. “Where is it? Oooooh where’s the bathroom?” Cyan pleaded, kneading and twisting and grinding down in a desperate attempt to prevent another leak.

Indy appeared next to Cyan, also looking around for the bathroom. They knew it was in this garage, and after a moment, saw the sign on the door for it on the other end of the parking lot. But before they could say anything-

“I’m going to have an accident! I’m going! I can’t hold it!” Cyan wailed, unable to think straight anymore. They were losing it, fully and quickly, and couldn’t bear to take another step forward without voiding the endless amount of piss that was fighting its way out of them. Cyan grabbed themself and looked around like a deer in headlights. “Indy, hurry, is anyone watching? Is anyone else here?”

Indy knew immediately what Cyan meant, and felt their face flush with arousal. Cyan wasn’t going to make it, they were going to lose it right here in the parking lot. And Indy, excited at this turn of events, was about to let them.

Indy took an exaggerated look around the clearly empty parking lot, hearing Cyan heave a long groan as they twisted like a pretzel, bending practically to their knees before bouncing back up. Finally, Indy said “Yes, pup. You’re all clear. Go on.”

The moment Cyan heard their permission, they whipped themselves out and a spray of pee burst out of them and against the concrete pillar by their side. Pee gushed out forcefully and audibly, the stream pattering down the wall and onto the ground in a puddle. Indy watched, impressed, as their partner emptied hours worth of pent up piss. Cyan moaned loudly, their voice echoing around them, as relief washed through them. It felt orgasmic, to finally let out every drop that had been torturing them all afternoon.

When the stream finally stopped, Cyan tucked themself away and turned bashfully to Indy. “I uh...I couldn’t hold it anymore.”

Indy nodded, a laugh escaping them. “No, it looks like you couldn’t. Poor puppy had to loose it in the parking lot, huh?”

“Heh, yeah..” Cyan said, chuckling a little. “Umm, I feel much better now though, so.”

Indy nodded. “I bet you do. You pissed for so long I thought you might have drank a whole ocean.”

“It sure felt like it,” Cyan said. “I really had to go.”

“Well, maybe next time you’ll make it to the bathroom,” Indy said, pointing to the bathroom across the lot. Cyan followed Indy’s gesture and finally saw the bathroom themselves. They sighed. “Oh, so close. Yeah, maybe next time.”

“Maybe next time,” Indy repeated, giving Cyan a gentle kiss and rubbing a hand across their back. “Ready to go home?”

“Yeah,” Cyan said, relieved. “Let’s head home.”

#omorashi #omorashi story #pee #pee holding #bladder control #transmasc omo #trans omo #nonbinary omo #yes cyan is the name i use here too i just like the color blue and all of the different types of blue a lot #also im lazy with names and prefer the pokemon model of naming #uhhh the end i hope you like it

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absolutepokemontrash · 1 year

Text

A Very Lovecraftian Exchange Student

Chapter 7

Last we left off, MC had reformed after the forcible goo-ing courtesy of Lucifer, and we saw Asmo have a bit of a self loathing moment, and now, we have the group retreat to look forward to! Yay!

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Warnings: None.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“I apologize for my behaviour last night, MC.”

Lucifer Morningstar loathed to apologize. His pride would wrap around his mind and constrict his thoughts to an almost painful degree whenever the mere idea of admitting wrongdoing entered his head. It was more than just his pride, however, that caused Lucifer’s aversion to the action.

He was a demon, a high ranking one at that, and did not make mistakes often. Lucifer did not apologize for no reason, and for the idea to apologize to enter his head would be to acknowledge that he had actually done something wrong…

His brothers knew this, and knew this well. They had become used to Lucifer’s way of apologizing.

Their favourite food being made, an item they wanted placed on their end table, that was how Lucifer made his regret for his actions known. Verbal apologies were rare to the point where Satan would joke about getting it on video and charging people to watch it.

But he couldn’t just brush this particular incident away with a plate of cut fruit. He had disgraced Diavolo, and nearly killed two of the exchange students.

…and scared the shit out of Beel, which Lucifer thought should be a crime in itself.

“Oh, I forgive you, Lucifer.” MC said with a sunny smile, before turning back to the bacon and eggs they were frying on a massive pan in the kitchen. It smelled heavenly, Lucifer had to admit, but how the hell had this thing learned to cook?! “How do you like your eggs? Or are you a pancake person?”

“I…” Lucifer’s eloquence seemed to leak out of his head as the human began to hum a happy little tune to themselves. His eyes darted to his normal breakfast, his beloved coffee that was slowly dripping out of the machine, then back to the massive bowl of bacon MC was adding to.

“I am glad you’re not too perturbed by last night’s events, MC. You must allow me to make it up to you sometime, my behaviour was unacceptable-“

“Ooo, or are you a French toast person?”

“Yes I do enjoy French toast but-“ Lucifer narrowed his eyes. “Why are you not more upset?”

“What do you mean?” MC cracked another egg. “It’s like what happened with me and Levi but in reverse. I threatened you, and you responded. Everyone’s fine, I’m fine, Luke is fine, you’re fine, that strange book you were freaking out over is fine as well. Now we can have breakfast.”

“…that’s it?!”

“Yes. Do you want chocolate chips in your pancakes, Lucifer?”

Lucifer Morningstar loathed to apologize, but there was one thing he had begun to loathe more.

The exchange student.

————————

“Oh Mammon! This is so exciting!” MC squealed as they plopped a giant suitcase onto their bed and began to pile their belongings inside. “I’ve never been on a group retreat before! It sounds like so much fun!”

“Eh…” Mammon lay on the carpet looking up at the ceiling, completely unbothered. “They’re nothin’ special. S’basically a sleepover with a buncha people ya gotta pretend to get along with.”

“How novel!” MC said with an excited clap of their hands. “I won’t even have to pretend to get along with anyone! I think everyone is quite fine with me as of right now!”

Mammon looked over at MC and gave them a wince that quickly (and unsuccessfully) morphed into a somewhat supportive smile. “You uh… you get em’ tiger.”

“Thank you, Mammon! You ‘get em’ too!”

“I’m coming in because I have things to say!” The door to MC’s room burst open, Levi stood on the other side. “Stand to attention!”

MC quickly straightened their posture and happily saluted the demon at the doorway, Mammon on the other hand remained on the floor and raised an eyebrow.

“I’m not one of your lackies, Levi.”

“Oh but Mammon!” MC gasped. “Grand Admiral Levi is such a rare sight!”

“Aaaaaand now he’s gone…” MC watched with a pout as Levi visibly deflated at Mammon’s complete dismissal of the third born’s authoritative entrance. “So uh… we’re going on that group retreat and stuff so uh…”

“Yes! Isn’t it exciting?”

“No! No way!” Levi gaped in disbelief at MC’s visible excitement. “This is an introvert’s worst nightmare!”

“What’s an introvert’s worst nightmare?” Beel appeared in the doorway behind Levi, then gently shouldered his way into the room. “Hi MC, hi Mammon, hi Levi, do any of you have snacks?”

“Oh of course!” MC dug through their suitcase (which most definitely would not be able to close) and threw an entire case of Oreos at Beel. “Enjoy!”

“Thank you.”

“P-pay attention to me!” Levi waved his arms and plopped down on the floor next to Mammon. “I’m enlisting all of you-“

“Cant get me to join the Navy again, Levi. We all remember the cannon incident.”

Beel nodded incredibly seriously at Mammon’s words. “We don’t talk about the cannon incident.”

“Not that kind of enlistment, stupid Mammon!” Levi huffed. “I’m trying to say that since we’re all pacted to MC, I’m going to follow at least one of you around at all times so no one I don’t want to talk to tries to speak with me!”

“But Levi,” MC furrowed their brows in confusion. “Talking to new people is so wonderful!”

“No it’s nooooooot!” Levi whined, flopping backwards onto the carpet. “Maybe for a normie extrovert like you, but an otaku like me finds socializing absolutely tortuous!”

Levi then let out a sad sigh. “My only real friend is Henry 2.0…”

“Oh come on, don’t be too hard on yourself, Lev.” Mammon said, rolling onto his stomach and propping up his head with his hands. “Your snake loved ya too~”

“BEFORE HE RAN AWAY!” Levi cried out, curling into a ball and beginning to make various whining sounds without actually crying.

“Oh boy…” Beel murmured. “Mammon, why did you have to bring up the snake..?”

“I was just tryin’ to cheer him up!”

“Oh… come here.” MC gently sat down next to Levi and pulled him into a hug. A very tight hug. “Here, use this intense expression of love and affection to feel better.”

The other two brothers could only watch in vague amusement as Levi attempted to squirm out of the hug as a deep red blush spread across his face.

“Normie affection! Normie affection! G-get back!”

“There! All better!” MC let Levi go with a sweet little smile. “We’ll take care of you on the retreat, Levi.”

A knock at the door brought everyone’s attention to Satan, who stood with his suitcase at his side. “Are you all coming, or not? We’re going to be late at this rate.”

“Geez, Satan,” Mammon got up off the floor with a roll of his eyes. “You’re startin’ to sound like Lucifer with all the ‘we’re gonna be late’ talk.”

“I’m sorry, I’m starting to sound like whom?!”

Mammon, Levi, and Beel all froze at the snarl that left Satan’s lips. MC looked between the four of them, then fully turned their attention to Satan. Whisps of green smoke leaked out of Satan’s twitching fingers as his lip curled into a sneer. MC only smiled.

“Mammon said you’re starting to sound like-“

“AH AH AH!” Both Mammon and Levi darted towards MC, quick as lighting, and slapped their hands over their mouth.

“Nah-nothin! Satan! Ya sound like yourself! Only yourself!” Mammon sputtered, a nervous smile on his face as sweat had begun to pool on his brow. Levi aggressively nodded in response, an equally horrified smile turning up his features.

“Yeah! Yeah! Just you, Satan! You sound like you!”

MC frowned in confusion, then began to slowly move their mouth to a more open location on their human body. Their neck would work, right?

“No, they said you sound like-“

“AGH!!” Levi shrieked and covered the mouth that had moved onto MC’s neck with his free hand.

“I’m trying to spea-“

The moment MC moved their mouth to the other side of their neck, Mammon slammed his free hand down on top of it.

“You heard it here, Satan!” Mammon said quickly. “You’re you! We’ll be down in a sec!”

Satan’s eyes narrowed, but the smoke at his fingertips dissipated and his eyes returned to a gentle blue. “Fine.”

And with that, Satan vanished, and the remaining brothers let out a sigh of relief.

“You shouldn’t do that, MC.”

“Do what?” MC moved their mouth to the uncovered centre of their neck and looked over at Beel.

“Compare Satan to Lucifer, he doesn’t like that.”

“Doesn’t like that is an understatement…” Mammon grumbled, removing his hands from MC, only to see that the spot under their nose where their mouth would normally be was completely blank. “M-MC, could ya..?”

“Oh! Of course!” MC moved their mouth back to its normal place. “Why doesn’t Satan like being compared to Lucifer, though? He’s so… emotion making…”

The wistful sigh that escaped MC’s lips caused the three brothers to exchange a few confused glances, before turning back to the exchange student properly.

“We should… go downstairs.” Levi mumbled.

Beel nodded in agreement. “Yeah…”

—————————

MC watched Satan look over at the clock that hung on the wall, then back down at his DDD, the exchange student then watched Lucifer do the exact same thing.

“Where is Asmodeus?!” Lucifer growled, looking down the hall towards Asmo’s room.

“Can we leave him behind?” Mammon asked, leaning on his suitcase with a grin. Lucifer shot him a warning glare before turning back to the clock.

“No.”

“Awww, boo.” Mammon said with a pout. MC patted him on the shoulder.

“Maybe Asmo is-“

“Helloooooooo darlings~!” Asmo, chipper as ever, came skipping down the halls pulling three bright pink suitcases behind him. “Rejoice! Your Asmo is here~!”

“Why… why do you have so much luggage..?” Satan was slackjawed and staring dumbly at the nearly overflowing suitcases that Asmo was tugging out the door.

“Satan, some of us like to look good,” Asmo cast a quick, almost disdainful glance over at MC, before stiffening and smirking. “And I packed light. Just think, three days and two nights with only three suitcases worth of things… I’m practically roughing it out here!”

“This doesn’t matter!” Lucifer stormed forward and held open the door, beckoning for everyone to get their things together and get out. “If we’re going to have even the slightest chance of beating the angels and Solomon to Diavolo’s castle, we need to pick up the pace!”

————————————

“I don’t think Asmodeus likes me.”

Simeon turned and tilted his head, a polite, but strained smile on his face. “Wh-why do you say that, MC?”

“He’s told me himself, several times today.”

After arriving at the castle (before the angels, much to Lucifer’s joy.) the roommate assignments had been given out, and to the Avatar of Lust’s visible dismay, he had been assigned to room with MC. Simeon had as well, and while he made a smile that looked like he was muscling through a scream, he hadn’t made his possible displeasure verbally known.

MC wasn’t terribly sure what they had done to earn Asmo’s ire. The exchange student thought that the demon was quite interesting, and very pretty, but Asmodeus didn’t seem to want to keep MC’s company.

“I think Asmodeus is just… getting used to things.” Simeon said with a shaky chuckle. “As am… as am I.”

“Ohhhh, do you think it has something to do with my me-ness?”

“Perhaps…” Simeon’s gaze shifted over to Luke, who was standing next to Diavolo as the demon prince jabbered about a particular painting of the Celestial Realm. “It is a little unnerving to find out that one of the exchange students isn’t a human, demon, or angel- no offence, MC.”

“Oh! None taken!” MC said with their usual sunny smile. “I’ve been told I’m horrific to look at sometimes.”

“By whom-“

“By Asmo. Earlier today.”

“Ah…” the angel’s gaze then shifted to the Avatar of Lust, who was chatting up some of the living paintings and seemed to be actively fishing for compliments. “Maybe with a little bit of work we could curb Asmo’s attitude.”

“You think?” MC asked with a tilt of their head. “Do you think he’ll be my friend and like me after?”

“Well, considering you have pacts with three of his brothers, you have some charm,” Simeon said with a gentle nudge. “I bet you two will be the best of friends when this is all over.”

“Really?!”

“Sure!”

“I’m going to go talk to him right now then!”

“Wait what-“

“Thanks, Simeon!”

“You physically repulse me.”

Asmo’s eyes bore straight into where MC assumed their soul must be. The Avatar of Lust had very unique eyes, MC had to note. His irises shifted and swirled with all the colours of what the exchange student had imagined a sunset would look like, and yet, despite the undeniable beauty, those wondrous eyes were filled with nothing but contempt.

“Yes, I’m aware.” MC said, still smiling. “I’d just like to know why so we can be friends.”

The demon let out a shrill peal of mocking laughter, and raised a delicate hand to cover his mouth. MC wondered if they should laugh along as well, but something in the demon’s tone stopped them. Laughter was usually a joyous sound, was it not?

The sound of Levi’s cheers mixed with disbelieving, breathy laughter after winning a game, Mammon’s sudden bouts of hysterical laughter that were usually accompanied with a fist slamming on a table or desk, to even Beel’s quiet chuckles, each sound was like music to MC’s ears. Yet, this sound felt distinctly sour, and wrong, like he was laughing at the scene of an accident.

“Friends?!” Asmo gasped in disbelief. “You think I’d ever want to be friends with something like you?”

Another smattering of cruel giggles scraped against the walls of MC’s all-too human ears, and they winced. They thought for a moment that they should tell the demon that his laugh wasn’t too pleasant to listen to, but quickly decided against it.

“Is this about what happened with Levi?” MC asked, clasping their hands behind their back and trying to keep their nice smile on their face. “Because we’ve all moved on since then. Levi and I are quite good friends now, he taught me how to play God of War, and this cute game called-“

“Oh, no. This isn’t about Levi.” A smirk slithered its way across Asmo’s face, and as MC looked into his eyes again, they felt almost… nauseous. They felt like every minute aspect of themselves was being… scanned. Evaluated.

Judged.

And MC was failing that assessment.

“This is squarely about you, MC.” The way Asmo said the name that he himself had bestowed upon MC made the exchange student shudder. The way he twisted the normally pleasant sound of their name into what could only be described as a verbal expression of visceral disgust was enough to make MC want to turn and run.

They couldn’t tell if this was a threat or not. Mere words shouldn’t hurt them, they weren’t being physically attacked so why was their body responding in such a manner? Why did they feel something twist in their gut? Why did they feel sweat begin to pool on their brow?

“I’ve seen what you really are.” Asmo said with a smile. “No amount of shifting and warping your appearance can change that.”

“What do you… mean?”

“You’re a hideous,”

Asmo poked MC in the chest.

“Grotesque,”

Another poke.

“Monstrous,”

He grabbed the front of their uniform.

“Disgusting creature who’s masquerading as something passable.” His gaze hardened as he looked into MC’s wide, shocked eyes. He stared for a moment, then another, then another. For just a second, MC wondered if he was even looking at them, or rather, his own reflection in the whites of MC’s eyes. “You’ll always be a monster, you can only hide it so much.”

————————————

MC wandered the halls of the castle that night, staring up at paintings and the intricate carvings on the tops of the walls. Their mind began to wander to what Asmo had said.

A hideous, grotesque, monstrous, disgusting creature….

That wasn’t what MC was! Not to them! They were just themselves! They had always just been themselves. They weren’t a monster any more than Asmo was a monster.

They looked up at one of the paintings that hung in a gilded gold frame in the throne room. A picture of a man and a woman, they both looked a little like Diavolo, the woman had his red hair, the man had his golden eyes…

“What do you think you’re doing, MC?”

The exchange student froze. Their eyes flicked to the left of them, where they saw a figure in the doorway to the room.

The faint light coming in from the hallway behind him obscured most of his features, but MC knew that pose and posture.

“Barbatos,” they said, turning to face him with a polite smile. “Hello!”

The demon slowly inclined his head towards the painting, and took a step forward that was so quiet and measured that MC was almost sure he was floating. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“I was just looking,” MC replied, their gaze flicking back to the painting for a moment, before fully turning to Barbatos. “Who are they?”

The butler came to a stop next to the exchange student, looking down on them with a blank stare. Studying them.

He then smiled.

“Why do you want to know?”

“I’m curious.”

“Curiosity killed the cat.”

“I’m not a cat.” MC answered back.

“So you’re spurred onward by the mere possibility of gaining new information, hm?”

MC nodded. “I like learning new things. I want to learn everything I can about this world I’ve stumbled into.”

For a moment, the demon’s eyes flashed yellow, and a more genuine smile cracked through the mask of politeness Barbatos seemed to always wear. But just as quickly as it had appeared, it vanished.

“You’re very odd, MC.”

“Yeah, I’ve been told.”

“Even if you were a human, you’d be odd to me.” Barbatos began. “I sense Mammon’s sin on you. My sin.”

“Really?” MC blinked a few times, then looked down at their open palms. “I don’t feel anything…”

“Most don’t,” Barbatos explained, a light chuckle on the edge of his voice. “But I also sense something else.”

“What?”

“Lust.” Barbatos turned towards the paintings, his eyes scanning each and every one, like he was trying to count out the brushstrokes it must’ve taken to bring each painting to its perfect completion. “And Gluttony. You hunger for things, don’t you, MC?”

“Hm… maybe? I’m not sure, Barbatos.”

“You lust for knowledge, you’re spurred on by your desire for information, and most of all,” the butler’s eyes flicked back to them. “You crave companionship.”

MC opened their mouth to respond, but no words left their lips.

He was right.

MC was lonely.

Disgustingly lonely.

They had been their entire life.

They wanted friends. They desired the love they had seen in snippets from others. They craved to be let into the warm embrace of what Beel had explained as family. They didn’t want to be an outsider gazing in through a window, they wanted to be in the thick of it. Learn about every painfully human, angelic, and demonic emotion, feel each and every one course through their veins as easily as blood. They craved it all.

“Do you crave companionship, Barbatos?”

The butler did not reply for a moment, and the Devildom seemed to go still. MC could hear faint shifting beneath the floors, distant pattering in far off hallways, and the sound of a tree branch tapping against a window, but no sound from the demon next to them.

Until finally, they heard him take a breath. “I haven’t in a very long time.”

“When did you stop?”

“When I met Diavolo.” Barbatos said, his voice as measured, and calm as ever. “He asked me to stay with him and be his butler. His companion. And I said yes. I never hungered for company, or feared the lack of it again.”

“Oh…” MC tapped their cheek with one of their fingers. “When will I… when will I stop feeling lonely? Will I stop being scared of loneliness sometime?”

“Everyone is different, MC,” Barbatos explained. “But from how you seem to be progressing,”

He looked over at them, his stare was much more gentle than Asmo’s had been. A careful, soft little once-over, before a faint smile came to his lips.

“You won’t be lonely for much longer.”

The butler turned to leave, and MC looked back at the painting. “You never told me who these two were!”

“The king and queen.”

“Diavolo’s mother and father?” MC asked. “Where are they? Are they here?”

Barbatos stopped walking for a moment, and MC watched as he seemed to take a deep breath before speaking. “Let’s just say… Diavolo may have once been as lonely as you, MC.”

——————————

Author’s note

Yeah I have no excuse once again. School and sleep called to me like the song of a siren and I am weak willed and obeyed.

I do love me some mean girl Asmo though,,,, look at my man, projecting like that, girlie, go to therapy. Let me know what you guys thought in the tags or replies! Or you could shoot me an ask!

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