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ceapa-mica · 1 year

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WAYWARD - Atina’s Story | Chapter 1: The Dream

{cross-posted on ao3} {masterlist}

← Prologue

This is a spin off to my Mandalorian fic Gehat'ik Be Aliit. You do not need to have read this story!

Summary: The story begins on Pamarthe where 16 year old Atina Chuchi wants to make a name for herself participating in an infamous starship race.

Rating: G

Warnings: a little bit of violence

Words: 3169

a/n: This is where the fun begins! Welcome again to this beautiful spin-off. Please mind that my main fanfiction Gehat'ik Be Aliit will remain my number one priority. This spin-off is just something I write in between, so I won't update this one as often as my other work. Also a big shoutout to my friend and beta reader @unmotivated-exhausted-author! Have fun reading!

3 BBY

The city of Sekystia, a usually beautiful and majestic city perched against the edge of a cliff, overlooking the merciless sea as far as the eye could see, was lying under a thick blanket of dark clouds and heavy downpour.

As the capital of the Outer Rim world Pamarthe, it had its own spaceport which bustled with activity all year round, filling the streets with crowds of travelers eager to tour, buy and sell in such a popular destination . The lack of Imperial presence in this sector attracted many people who preferred to stay off the Empire's radar.

Most of the buildings were made of white stone and wood, modern yet historical in some way. Vendors offered their wares which mainly consisted of seafood and fishing tools as this planet was mostly covered by water, with the exception of several rugged islands that withstood the tides, of which most were connected by stone or wooden bridges, which despite sounding like a lot of space, actually housed several hundred thousand Pamarthens - a folk of excellent pilots with a high alcohol tolerance.

Away from the busy road, a figure in a black poncho walked through the puddles of a back alley, obviously knowing where she was going.

The happy little girl that had softened Hondo Ohnaka's heart had become a woman that oozed confidence, despite only being sixteen years old at this point.

A washed out sign with the words Employees Only didn't keep her from opening the door of a cantina's rear entrance. She entered with a hand on her blaster and peeked around the corner to see if the person she was looking for was actually there.

Her eyes landed on a Weequay who didn't just look completely drunk, he also smelled worse than a wet nerf. As he noticed Atina, he sat up straighter, eyeing the bottle on the table, wagering to throw it at her and escape.

"Aren't you a bit too young for a place like this?" he asked in a slimy voice as she approached his table.

"Zabo, I'm here to collect your debt. Try to run and I'll pull the trigger before you can reach the door." she spoke in an icy tone.

The Weequay chuckled. "Careful with that blaster, you could cause some serious injuries with that thing."

Patrons from the surrounding tables who watched them snickered at Zabo's comment.

Without further ado the teenage girl pulled the trigger, leaving a scorch mark on the table in front of the man.

"Say that again and next time I won't miss your face."

The Weequay slowly raised his hands in surrender.

"Okay okay! You're here to collect for Ohnaka?"

"You owe him 3.000 credits!"

Zabo swallowed and slowly pulled a satchel of credits from his bag which Atina took and counted.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" she smirked and left the cantina the way she came in, leaving the patrons in astonishment at her apparent ruthlessness.

She commed Hondo Ohnaka to tell him that she had successfully acquired Zabo's debt.

"You've become quite good at this! That son of a mudscuffer owed me for at least six years. Now that you have the credits, go to the port and find a Mon Calamari named Baduk. If you still want to sign up for Crystal Waters that is."

"But what about your credits?"

"You will need an entry fee to participate in Crystal Waters."

"Does that mean… you want to pay that fee for me?!"

"You're associated with me. If you make a name for yourself at this race, it improves my reputation as well."

"Crystal Waters! I've always wanted to go out there and show off my skill, and not just watch. Thank you, uncle!"

"Win this race for me, yes?"

Atina wanted to answer but stopped dead in her tracks. What she needed for the notorious Crystal Waters race was a ship, and she came to Pamarthe on board a shuttle with hundreds of Crystal Waters fans.

"I would win this for us in a heartbeat, but I don't have a ship, you know that."

"I didn't take you under my wing for nothing. Didn't you learn anything in the years we traversed the Galaxy together?"

Atina sighed. "Of course I learned a lot. You- you want me to steal a ship, don't you?"

"The trick is not to get caught! You can do this, Atina. They will only accept you in this race if you have a ship."

"Steal a ship, sign in for Crystal Waters. Got it!"

Atina had never stolen anything bigger than a landspeeder before. Stealing a starship would be a lot harder, especially participating in a popular race with it.

"I have a bad feeling about this…" she muttered after she had ended the comm.

There was a reason why thieves preferred pre Imperial ships: The Empire could not track them. And Atina had a feeling she would need one of those.

She didn't exactly blend in at the spaceport, so she formed a plan in her brilliant mind.

She hid in a closet at the spaceport and waited til nightfall. That's when she kept an eye out for any workers. It took a while until a young Twi'lek worker walked past her. In the blink of an eye she stunned him with her blaster, pulled him into the closet, and took his yellow overall with the words Repair Crew written in black Aurebesh letters on the back. It was a little too large on the arms and legs, but it would have to do.

Atina went to many hangers but most ships were too new and if there were any pre Imperial ships it were usually complete rust buckets that would fall apart during a race such as Crystal Waters. Two days were not enough time to repair one of those.

She had almost given up when she entered a hangar with a pre Imperial Corellian freighter in it that seemed to be in pretty good condition. Atina's golden eyes lit up at the sight. She made sure there was nobody around as she used her slicing device to successfully slice the ramp open.

She went inside, closing the ramp behind her, and looked for the cockpit while wringing her wet locks.

"Oh please, who installed the security measures of this ship? This is way too easy!" She rolled her eyes and started the engine.

Outside a few mechanics came running, yelling and waving at her, but she paid them no mind. The ship left the hangar behind and Atina took her time to get used to the controls.

Flies very smoothly, it's perfect! Now all I need to do is hide the ship until I sign in for Crystal Waters. For now I need to find a place to park it, somewhere with a way back to Sekystia for me to sign in.

It was the middle of the night and the ocean below looked like a dark abyss. Atina searched for any light source. It took her about fifteen minutes to find one and she went down, making a soft landing near a small village on a rocky island. She landed behind a row of houses that must have seen better days.

With a relieved sigh she leaned back in the pilot seat and didn't realize when she fell asleep after a few minutes.

She woke up to broad daylight flooding the cockpit. Rubbing her eyes she went to use the ship's 'fresher and after a quick shower went to the kitchenette to look for anything edible. Some meager ration bars she found made her miss the time she went to Nar Shaddaa with Hondo, where some associates of his treated him like a king, with an entire buffet just for him and his young companion. This had been the best food she had ever eaten. But a warm meal was a luxury many people, especially spacers, couldn't afford. Especially not with the Imperial price gouging that was happening.

Hunger had become Atina's constant companion during her travels alone. That's why making a name for herself was so important to her. A reputation would get her jobs, and jobs would get her credits for food and other necessary items. She was just trying to get by. And this new ship would also make it a lot harder for her. Ships needed fuel, and then there were inevitable repair costs and so on. She had to win Crystal Waters or she would be stuck either on this planet or any nearby system.

She learned that she had landed in a small village named Kerresh and that Sekystia was only two hours away… with a speeder or speeder bike. Eventually she met an old man by his house who was busy chopping heads off fish. What really caught her attention was the dusty speeder bike parking near him.

"How many credits would you lend me your speeder bike for?" she asked, ready to haggle over the price.

"Missy, you don't look old enough to ride one of those."

Atina crossed her arms and bit back a snarky remark. She wouldn't threaten an old man's life, she wasn't the type for that. But she had to think of something.

"I need to go to Sekystia, it's very important!"

The man chuckled. "Let me guess, you're one of those kids going crazy over that stupid Silver Water race…"

"It's Crystal Waters actually, and no, I uh… just wanted to meet a friend."

The man shook his head and put the knife aside. "Why don't you ask the pilot of that freighter behind those houses? They're probably here for the race, they could take you there."

"I already asked them and they uh… they threatened me with a blaster. Not the safest option. I've ridden speeder bikes many times before. A much safer option than asking the crew of that freighter once more." she bluffed.

He wiped his hands on an old rag and scratched his mustache in thought.

"Y'know… I haven't used this bike in two years. Before my leg became so bad I used to travel to Sekystia every two weeks and now I haven't been there since… a long time. They sell the freshest wasaka berry pie on this ball of water there. Bring me one of those and you don't have to pay a single credit for fuel."

Atina smirked. "Mission accepted!"

It was a bumpy ride over the islands and rocks that were all connected by stone and wooden bridges. The view on the other hand was great. The sky was still cloudy, but a few sun rays tried to break through.

From afar Sekystia looked simply majestic. How it was built on the mountains that rose from the sea. It was breathtaking.

Atina's awe subsided as she steered the speeder bike through the busy streets. People crossed the streets without looking, vendors yelled at her to buy their stuff and some people loudly complained over the speeder bike. Atina gritted her teeth not to yell back and eventually parked next to a general store right behind a landspeeder.

Wasaka berry pie, entry fee…

On her way to the busy spaceport she looked for a vendor selling pies. She hated crowds of people, and why did some people have to wear the ugliest Crystal Waters merch she had ever seen? Many fan shirts of popular pilots had stupid and sometimes sexistic slogans on them. She hated it.

The food the street vendors offered didn't look appetizing, and no vendor offered wasaka berry pie. She decided to look for the pie on her way back and went to the spaceport in search of a Mon Calamari named Baduk. She had to ask several people first before she got a lead on where to find him, and when she did she was taken aback from what he was doing.

He stood on a small ladder, gluing posters with Imperial propaganda on the graffiti sprayed walls of this side of the spaceport.

"Are you Baduk?"

"That's who I am. What can I do for you, young lady?"

Atina's gaze switched between him and the Imperial propaganda on the posters.

"I'm here to join Crystal Waters and pay my entry fee."

"I'm awfully sorry, the deadline to sign in was last night. Maybe next year."

"Please! Can't you make an exception? I had no idea!"

The Mon Calamari raised his brows. "I'm sorry, that's against the rules."

Atina scoffed. "I'm a very good pilot, and I'm here to prove myself! You're missing out on a great chance!"

"Yeah let me guess, your family told you what a great pilot you are just because you managed to shoot a bunch of womp rats from your landspeeder. That's not the same, kid. At Crystal Waters only the best few pilots make it out alive. Keep practicing, one day you might make it!"

Atina's cheeks turned purple, she had to hold back her anger.

"Fine! You missed your chance, old man!" she spat and turned on her heels, leaving the spaceport with anger flaring up in her golden eyes like embers turning into flames.

"I'll show you what I'm capable of!"

On her way back she took some rather quiet streets. The sooner she found a stupid vendor selling wasaka berry pie, the sooner she would be back at her ship.

No matter what the Mon Calamari said, she would fly anyway and let the other ships shower in the emissions of her new freighter. She was not one who gave up so easily.

Eventually a tiny shop caught her eye that displayed the finest baked goods in its windows. The smell was heavenly and she wondered if they had the pie she was looking for.

As it turned out they had exactly what she needed, and she jumped on the speeder bike to return it to its owner along with the berry pie.

It was already nightfall when she returned. In the village of Kerresh people sat on their porches, they were talking and having supper together. The old man who owned her speeder was still in his little workshop. Done with chopping heads off fish, he was now sorting out scrap metal while a young man in armor was talking to him.

"I can't accept. I'm collecting scrap metal! Nothing worth as much as your beskar. Oh! Look who the seven winds brought back!"

Atina put the wasaka berry pie on his workbench and looked at the young man who looked displeased to say the least.

"I can't accept pieces of your armor, now go!"

the old man spoke.

"I'm not leaving until you buy my shin guard!"

"Stubborn Mandalorian…" the man muttered under his breath.

Atina gazed at his crimson and white armor. She knew about the value of beskar, and she also knew that no Mandalorian would simply sell their armor.

He was a pale boy around her age, his blond hair a short buzz cut, and he looked like he hadn't slept in days.

"You must be truly desperate if you want to sell your armor."

"That's none of your business!" the Mando spat, clearly annoyed.

"It's not hard to guess. You look like the Galaxy ate you up and spat you back out again."

"Any more of your perceptive remarks or are you finished?"

Atina shrugged. "I don't know, you tell me. You don't seem to be the type who would just sell their armor like that."

"He's not selling anything to me." the old man added. "Both of you look starved, come on in, I think I can help you."

Atina followed the old man and looked back at the young Mandalorian who hesitated at first, then let out an annoyed sigh and followed them indoors.

The smell of a fish stew lingered in the air. A steaming kettle of it hung over a small fire pit. The old man introduced himself as Garo Hamue while taking three deep plates from his messy kitchenette, putting a portion of stew on each of them.

"What are two young runaways like you doing on Pamarthe?"

"I am no runaway, I'm here to join Crystal Waters." Atina hummed at the delicious taste of the stew.

"With a ship that's obviously stolen." Garo shook his head. "Just because Pamarthe is rather insignificant, don't underestimate the Empire. When they find out what you did, you'll be in great danger. And what about you, young man?"

The Mandalorian stopped chewing and tensed up. "There's no story to tell." he gritted and continued eating.

There was without a doubt a story. Atina had to admit, him being so secretive about it made her curious. But she knew better than to unnecessarily annoy an armed Mandalorian.

The living quarters of Garo's house had two small sofas and he had enough blankets for both of them.

"Don't think I'll allow you to stay longer than one night. Whatever either of you are involved in, I don't wanna be a part of it. Sleep well, kids!"

He extinguished the oil lamp on his wall and went upstairs where his sleeping quarters were.

For several minutes the Mandalorian tossed and turned on the sofa that was a bit too small for him.

"Why does a skinny thing like you wanna join Crystal Waters? People die in that race, you know?" the Mandalorian eventually murmured.

"People who can't properly fly die in that race. I can win this thing."

"Yeah? How can you choose to die for nothing when the entire Galaxy is watching?"

"I won't die. I- I've watched this race every year since I can remember. I watched holo recordings of each winner's strategies and tricks. You think I'm not prepared? I know your armor is part of your identity. You wanna sell it, and for what? Food? If I wore beskar, I would rather die starving in it than to sell it for a package of measly ration bars."

A moment of silence fell between them until he said one word. "Kyr."

Atina sat up. "What?"

"My name is Kyr Saxon."

"Arista Callio." Atina bit her lip, but Hondo had always told her to be careful who she told her real name, and she didn't know where Kyr's loyalties were lying, so a fake name was the best choice.

"So there's no story as to why you're here? I don't believe you."

"And I don't believe Arista Callio is your actual name."

Dank farrik, he's good!

Kyr chuckled as she couldn't find the right words for a moment. "Loth cat got your tongue?"

"Kriff off and go to sleep!" she snapped and turned around, facing away from him.

She didn't know how typical teenagers dealt with their peers on a daily basis. Most teenage boys she had met so far were complete airheads. If that was the case with this young Mandalorian as well, only time would tell. So far she couldn't help but be annoyed by his mere presence.

a/n: Looks like some Mando ran away from home! Atina needs a friend ok?

Please give me some feedback what you think of the story so far. Just because I won't update more frequently doesn't mean I won't read your comments.

#wayward #gehat'ik be aliit #atina chuchi #star wars fanfiction #star wars #the clone wars #tcw #hondo ohnaka #the clone wars fanfiction #foxiyo

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milkytheholy1 · 2 years

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hello, hope you are well! i absolutely love your writing and was wondering if you could do a rottmnt leo x fem!reader? maybe something along the lines of reader goes with the brothers on a mission and ends up getting injured and leo freaks out. like readers not dying or anything but he thinks they are and is like “no don’t die i love you too much” or something lol. (sorry if this is confusing, it was just a random idea i had, obviously you don’t have to do it!!

A/N: Orderrrrrr uuuuuuuuuup!

Tmnt masterlist. Ultimate masterlist. Apocalyptic love series.

I'm Not Dead, Idiot!

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The building was overall quiet, not a sound, not even a rat could be heard. The moonlight helped illuminate the dark crevices of the alleys, but not enough to showcase the full evil that lurked there. You were beside's Donnie, perched next to his hovering form as he kept his eyes locked on the docks.

The salty sea smell tingled your nose, the smell of fish rotting your senses. The other three boys were on the ground, slinking around every corner, on a mission to track down two criminals who escaped from jail a few months back; they were last spotted at the zoo around the same time the turtles fought with Draxum.

"Any word from them yet, Don?" you whispered, even if you were high up you were still cautious not to make a sound. Donnie only shushed you in response, staying quiet for a few seconds longer before replying, "No, but I can see them and they're-" he cut himself off, scrambling to grab the walkie talkie "-WOULD YOU DUMB DUMBS STOP FEEDING THE PIGEONS AND GET BACK TO THE MISSION!!!"

You followed his eyes, squinting into the distance to see three forms squabbling and waving their hands in shock. Donnie coughed beside you, returning back to a much softer voice, "I knew I should have gone, alas, my allergy to shellfish." though he didn't seem to care too much.

A voice muttered from the walkie talkie, you could recognise it deep within your sleep: Leo.

"Heeey, D, can you pass the talkie over to my lovely lady, please?" God he was such a suck-up. Donnie sighed, but reluctantly did as told and handed it over to you.

"This is yellow sparrow over to blue hawk, what can I do you for?" you muttered the code names off by heart, knowing it would bring a smile to the red-eared slider's face. He seemed to swoon on the other end, though it was hushed by Raph, "Yellow sparrow this is blue hawk coming in, you didn't say over, over."

You couldn't help but roll your eyes, "This is yellow sparrow to blue hawk, what can I do you for? Over." You could hear Donnie give out another sigh, his brows furrowing deeper than you had ever seen them. The walkie talkie crackled to life once more, "This is blue hawk to yellow-"

"OH FOR THE LOVE OF- give me that!" Donnie snatched the talkie from your hand, "Pleeeeease tell me you guys are doing something productive, I don't know about you, but hanging out at the docks at 1am isn't how I like to roll."

"Oh please, you've been in weirder places at 1am." Leo smirked, you didn't need to see him to know he was doing it. As you continued to banter through the walkie talkie with Leo, once wrestling it back from Donatello, you grew more nervous for the boys down below.

"Relaaaaaax babe, we've got it all under controlled, over."

"I know but, it's been awfully quiet on your end. I've seen more action from the pigeons than you guys have. What if the rumour was fake, what if those guys aren't even in that place to begin with, over."

The line went quiet for a moment, dead static in the air. This caught the attention of Donnie who came to stand beside you, both of you leaning in closer to the talkie, "Er, blue hawk, you still there? Over."

Nothing.

You began to panic, "Leo, are you guys okay? Seriously this isn't funny, Leo!" Still no sound came through, Donnie got his bo out, ready to jump into action. That was until the walkie talkie sprung to life, blasting out loud laughter from all three turtles, "Y-you didn't say over, over." Leo mused.

He turned to Raph and Mikey, both keeling over on the floor crying with laughter. It was Leo's idea, they were allowed to have fun on a mission every once in a while and when a mission was as boring as this, they were practically encouraged to cause a little mischief.

"I-I don't know, maybe that was a little harsh, (Y/N) did seem pretty worried." Mikey reminded him, winding down from his laughing fit. Leo turned to him with a pout, "Ahem, I didn't see you telling me to stop." Mikey stayed silent at that.

Raph continued to walk around the warehouse they had found themselves in, all the rumours and witness statements had led them to this place by the docks. Yet, all they could find were a few empty cans of beans and empty bottles of juice.

"I'm startin' to think this place was a bust. Tell (Y/N) we're comin' back up, I don't care what Donnie says about the mission, I'm just tired." Raph moaned, kicking one of the cans of beans to the other side of the room. Leo saluted his leader and once again clicked on the walkie talkie, "Yellow sparrow this is blue hawk, we'll be coming back to your position, over."

Silence.

"Very funny (Y/N), over."

Nothing.

"(Y/N)?" Leo questioned, suddenly becoming more panicked. Raph sighed, "She's probably just getting back at you for earlier, betcha it was Donnie's idea."

No, it couldn't have been that, Leo's pranked you many times before and you've never had a reaction like this. Maybe Raph was right, maybe it was Donnie's idea. But Leo likes to think the moment he sounded worried you would have answered back.

"C'mon guys, we have to go check on them." Leo dashed out of the warehouse quicker than he's ever run before, constantly talking through the walkie talkie but getting no reply. His speed picked up, leaving his brothers behind as he ran straight for the building he'd left you on with his dorky brother.

The moment he got there he searched for you, eyes wide when he caught your groan. You were standing by Donnie, rubbing your elbow while Donnie wrapped a bandage around your head. Leo rushed to you in an instant, wrapping you in his arms and lifting you from the ground, "Oh my god, (Y/N)! I'm so sorry, this is all my fault. If I hadn't left you, you wouldn't be dying. I'm so sorry-"

"Leo, I'm not dying." you kept telling him but the words wouldn't sink in, his grip on you kept tightening to the point where you thought that you might actually be dying. Leo kept apologising over and over again, professing his love to you over and over again, never giving you a chance to butt in.

His face was smushed against your chest, although there were no tears his breathing had picked up, “No, don’t die I love you too much!” he heaved out. Donnie came to inspect the scene, motioning for Raph to split you both apart before you passed out due to lack of air.

"She isn't dying numb-nuts, she just has a cut on her forehead and a bruised elbow. Although with the way you were squeezing her diaphragm she would've passed out in 15 more seconds."

You were panting, finally allowing fresh air into your system, even if it did smell like fish. Mikey came to stand by your side, with Leo quickly pulling you against him, finally giving you a once over "Sooo, you're not dying?"

"No, dummy." you laughed, rubbing your palm against his cheek. Leo beamed, lost staring into your eyes, god, you were so beautiful.

"So what happened to you guys?" Mikey asked, breaking the lovey-dovey atmosphere between you and Leo. Donnie tapped his fingers rapidly against his tech brace before a holographic image popped up.

"Two criminals, known on the streets as Bebop and Rocksteady or as they're actually called, Anton Zeck Rocksteady and Ivan Steranko. The two were believed to be hiding out in the warehouse down by the docks, but apparently, they must have heard something or someONE-" he glared at Leo, who shrugged nonchalantly in response.

"And they fled the scene, from what I could gather while they were trying to punch me: they saw us up here, thought we were the cops - which I would like to point out is highly preposterous, I mean, what police establishment would allow a mutant turtle and a teenager into their leagues?"

"Donnie, just get on with it."

"Oh yes, right, they beat us up then left. End of story." he deadpanned, going back to tapping on the tech brace. Mikey frowned, rubbing his arms together, "Man, I'm really sorry we couldn't help you guys. But I can't believe they got away again, maybe we're not so good at this hero stuff."

"Nah, I wouldn't say that, I think you guys were doing pretty good before these dolts came along. It's just gonna take a little time to catch them is all." You cuddled further into Leo, "I wouldn't want anyone else protecting New York City." You looked up to him, already catching his eyes.

They seemed to twinkle under the night sky, full of love and hope for the future. Leo leaned down and pressed a kiss against your lips, his brothers screaming out in disgust. Pulling apart Leo rolled his eyes with a smirk, "Okay, shows over, let's go home; I'm starvin'!"

"Ooh, how about we place an order at Hueso's," you asked, mouth already watering at the thought of a pizza. Leo pulled you closer, "Babe, it's like you read my mind."

And with that, and one angry phone call from Hueso later, you and the rest of the Hamato family were back in the sewers, enjoying your pizza and being with each other. Leo hadn't let you out of his grasp the entire night, he was just happy you weren't dying; besides, he thought the bandage look on you was hot.

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s-brant · 3 years

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The Endless Summer (2/?)

(gif: @beccs) (PART ONE) (SERIES MASTERLIST)

Summary: A day out on the water goes awry and puts JJ, John B, and Y/N in danger. With tensions rising and the stakes higher than ever, JJ finds it difficult to control his feelings.

Word Count: 9.1k

Warnings: Angst, implied sexual content, strong language, graphic violence, and JJ being an emotionally confused asshat.

A/N: Welcome back! Thanks for the love on this series, I’m so glad you guys like it and I hope this part is just as good. Things get a little heated in this chapter, so buckle up. Let me know if you enjoyed this. Have fun!

JJ isn't sure why she did it.

He wasn't sure then and he isn't sure now, but he knows one thing for certain: there isn't any going back to how things once were now that the barrier between them came crashing down.

Sweat drips off of his skin from the relentless heat of the Caribbean that has made their recent lives hell with the painful tinge of sunburn atop their tans and heat exhaustion they must be careful to avoid at all costs. They were educated on both topics by Pope, their godsend of a survival encyclopedia in human form, who advised them to spend most of their day outside of necessary tasks like fishing and constructing stable shelter under the shady cover of the treetops.

The sole reason he and John B aren't hiding in the safety of the shade is that it's their day to fish, but he's not thinking about the sun. In fact, neither of them is. They're both wondering where their third fishing buddy is.

It took roughly ten minutes of spearfishing with him in comfortable silence for JJ to finally break and spill his guts about what happened last night. Though there was an unspoken agreement to never tell anyone that their hatred has turned into desire, he couldn't help it. He was going mad trying to unravel it in his head.

After all, he already had a conversation with JB about the recent shift in their behavior with each other by the ocean last night, so it seems fitting to pick up where they left off with the calm and clear blue water in front of them again.

He walks on the jagged outcropping of rock that serves as their perch to observe the fish without disturbing the pattern of the current they swim through with John B closely behind.

"One second she's pissed at me, the next she's all over me. It makes no sense. Then, she didn’t say anything to me after it happened," JJ says with his face hardened into a look of concentration at the fish he squints against the sun to aim at, "Not even "Fuck you, Maybank" or one of her weirdly creative threats. She just sat there all night and talked to everyone but me."

His gaze slips away from the water as his chosen fish disappears from sight before he can bother to throw the spear, eyeing up his friend's reaction to the news.

John B doesn't seem that surprised by it, because who else, aside from everyone else in Kildare who knows of their "hatred" for one another, could've seen it coming as much as he did? He considers it for a second, then props his arm up on the handle side of the spear he digs into the rock to lean against.

"I'm pretty sure that means she likes you."

JJ retorts, "That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard you say."

Why would anyone ignore a person they like? It makes no sense to him. Every time he wanted a person, he'd simply walk over and make it happen. It's never been difficult for him to pursue the people he finds himself attracted to...Well, except for her. For a guy that also ignored her for the rest of the night and pretended their moment in the woods didn't happen, he has some balls of steel to be chastising her for the same things he did.

John B shrugs and says, "I'm being serious, dude. Sarah wouldn't even acknowledge my existence when I worked on the Druthers, and I thought it was some stuck-up rich person thing but it wasn't."

They shouldn't be talking at all right now as to not scare away the fish, but they do it anyway. They both know he won't let it go until it's out of his system for good. He wouldn't allow himself to forget it if he wanted to, so its better to talk it out than turn stir crazy from ruminating over it 24/7.

Though it's, as he worded it yesterday, hot as balls out, being by the sea lessens the feeling of it by a landslide.

The breeze they crave whenever they work on their huts or forage through the forest for wild berries, coconuts, or potential building supplies blows on them without pause for the time they spend here, which almost makes it more dangerous. They stand under the direct harm of the UV rays frying them without truly feeling it burn yet, and he dreads the next few days in anticipation of the returning sunburn he just peeled off of his shoulders the other day.

JJ walks down the side to get a better view of the water, balancing precariously on the sharpened edge with the spear clenched tightly in one hand. The breeze is strong enough to threaten his balance, but he holds firm and digs his toes into the sedimentary rock for traction. His body sways in the midday sun with the struggle for stability, or, at least he suspects its midday.

Since being stranded here, time is a foreign concept to them. With no phones, clocks, or any guide to go off of other that the position of the sun above to display the hours that pass, they've lost complete track of what day it is, let alone how long minutes or hours truly are in comparison to the endless summer they live within. They suspect it's been a month since they were left here, but, in all honesty, it could be two. None of them had the sense to mark the days in a tally until it was too late.

He says, lifting his arm to throw the spear, "Well, she is a stuck up rich person, so maybe it's just—"

"You know I'm right here, don't you?"

The sound of her voice from a few feet behind them startles JJ into turning around to look at her right when he lets go of the spear.

Unfortunately for him, the jerking movement throws off his carefully distributed weight and skews his balance, making the feet placed on the edge slip from underneath him and send him slipping down into the water. His calf is the first body part to hit the rocks, and the groan of pain he lets out at the feeling of the jagged rock slicing through his skin could make her heart stop mid-beat. But what truly scares her is seeing the back of his head hit the ground too.

Before he can slide the rest of the way into the water, two pairs of hands are grabbing onto his arms and heaving him up with all of their strength. She and John B grit their teeth with the effort it takes to pull him back up, their muscles burning from the strain, and once his feet are over the ledge, he pushes off the rock to help them the rest of the way. Drops of his blood disperse into the water off the edge from where he cut himself, dripping until there's hardly any left.

Once he's safely laid back down a few feet from where he slipped, Y/N is kneeling in front of him in a matter of seconds. The rock beneath her knees opens small cuts into her skin, but she doesn't pay it any heed. She sits on her heels to lessen the minor pain and lean forward to inspect the damage he took with nothing on her mind other than worry.

Soon enough, John B joins her to kneel at his feet as he sits up and watches them eye up his injury as though it’s some sort of ghastly, life threatening thing instead of a gash that won't need stitches. He watches them against the glittering ocean, waves washing up on the rocks around them to sting his wound with saltwater.

"It's a scratch, not an amputation," JJ says.

She ignores him with a frown lining her pretty features and twists his leg by the ankle to get a better view of the wound in the sunlight. It extends up the entire length of his calf, almost from ankle to knee, and dribbles fresh blood onto her hands as well as the ground beneath them. From what he can tell, it doesn't look all too severe. No muscle or bone can be seen, so it's a simple, superficial scratch.

When he doesn't get a response from either her or John B while they're too busy checking out his leg, he says again, "Guys, I'm serious, it's fine."

This time, she doesn't hesitate to answer.

"Yeah, well you may not need stitches but you still have infection to worry about. This wilderness isn't exactly the cleanliest place," she says retorts with as much snark as usual, and he quietly rejoices in the fact that she's finally acting normal after what happened last night, "Not to mention, you hit your head pretty hard. There's no need to act all tough."

He shrugs.

"It's not an act, it really doesn't hurt that bad."

John B stands and smears the blood on his hands off on the front of his shorts.

"I'll be right back, guys, I'm gonna go get stuff to patch him up."

Just like that, they are left plunging into silence as he is running away down the peninsula back to the beach they've claimed as their own.

Silence has always been her least favorite thing to share with JJ. She'd rather anything over it—screaming, fighting, joking, friendly conversation, or even what they did together yesterday night. Anything is preferable over the tense and insufferable feeling of silence when they're alone together with none of their friends, or their playful hatred, between them as a barrier between them.

Instead of seeing the same pestering jerk she always used to when she looks at him, she sees the memory of how he looked at her in the woods. He didn't look at her like she was the worst person to ever walk the planet, or like she was his least favorite Kook "Princess", he looked at her like she meant something to him.

They sit together in uncomfortable silence in the time it takes John B to rush to the beach and back, careful not to slip on the rocks the way JJ did, with the supplies from the dinghy in his arms. It isn't much to work with, but at least it's something to keep the nasty wound on his leg protected from dirt and germs. She's sure he'd leave it uncovered and up to fate if he had it his way.

Before he can set them down on the wet rocks, thus ruining the gauze and bandages in craters filled with ocean water, she gestures at JJ with a stern command, "Take off your shirt."

His brows raise.

"Shit, Princess, take me out to dinner first."

She groans in frustration, "Can you be quiet for a second and actually listen to me for once?"

He catches John B's gaze with wide eyes, but complies nonetheless, reaching down to tug the tank off of his torso by the frayed hem until it's balled up in his closed fist to hand off to her. Her eyes only linger on his body for a quick second on accident before snatching it from him.

Her bloodstained palms lay the shirt out on the flattest stretch of rock she can find to act as a barrier from the small puddles of water to protect the supplies. One nod at John B has him setting them down atop the navy fabric as she glances up at JJ with a smug smile.

"Believe it or not," she taunts, unscrewing the cap to the disinfectant, "I didn't ask for it so you could sit there and look pretty."

The words throw him back in time to their conversation on the beach while they thatched the roof to their hut, and he wonders how long she's been waiting to throw that back in his face since he first said it.

He grins at her as he asks, "You think I'm pretty?" but before he can say more, she's pouring a generous amount of the hydrogen peroxide along the length of his cut without a warning for him to prepare himself. His leg jerks away on instinct to save himself from the burning sensation, but she grips his ankle tightly enough to force him to stay still.

His nose scrunches up with the urge to groan in pain, and he does a little. Through grinding teeth, he winces in response to the peroxide slipping into every cell of open skin and bubbling up like the white water of the waves as it kills the bacteria lingering in the gash.

"Does it hurt now?" Y/N asks.

She's looking up at him through her lashes with her lips curled into a smirk as she packs gauze onto the wound until it's covered to her satisfaction. And it should be the last thing he's thinking about right now after cutting up his leg and hitting his head hard enough to worry her about concussions, but he can't help it. Looking down at her like this, it's impossible for him to not think about the unfinished business they have.

Everything is the same as it was yesterday—the tattered white top, the red panties in place of a bikini, sunburnt cheeks, and a taunting look that he'll never get tired of seeing. But that's precisely why he's reminded of it. She's wearing the same clothes and looking at him the way she did on the beach before any of last night's antics occurred, and he can't keep himself from wondering if it'll happen again.

"Yeah," he finally responds.

Her smirk grows for a second before she gets back to work.

"Good."

JJ subtly eyes her up from where she shifts on her knees to set the open gauze wrappers under the peroxide bottle in exchange for the bandage wrap, but he isn't as subtle as he thinks. She can feel his stare no matter how sneaky he attempts to be. He may be able to evade John B's attention, since he dove into the ocean to retrieve the wooden spear that began to float out in the tide, but she never misses a thing. Not when it comes to him.

When he looks at her, he finds memories.

Her legs folded up beneath her bring him back to how smooth they felt on his palms when he lifted them up around his hips. Her rosy lips pressing into a line in concentration bring him back to the coconut flavor he tasted on them. Her nipples poking against the fabric of her shirt bring him back to when he lifted it up over her breasts to suck at the sensitive skin until he got a moan from her—There isn't a place he can stare without going back to last night.

Part of him hates that.

He can't stand that a girl who he spent the last five years hating has found a way into his daydreams. Why couldn't it have been anyone else? Why did she have to lure him into her trap? He supposes there's nothing he can do about it now, though. After hours of stewing over it, he's reached the conclusion that it was likely a one-time thing, a mistake made in the heat of the moment that she won't make again, and he should get the idea of it out of his head.

When she has to adjust her grip to hold the gauze in place while she wraps the bandage around his leg, he sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth and jerks away again. She glances up at him with her best, "Are you kidding me?" face. Didn't he say he was tough?

"I'm starting to think you're a sadist, 'cause it's like you're trying to make it hurt," he says.

She gasps, feigning offense.

"Me? Enjoying this? It's not like we've hated each other for years or anything."

And though he may not realize it, this is her way of distracting him from the pain of having her apply added pressure to his cut while she wraps the bandage into place. It has to be tight enough to keep water and sand out, but not so tight that it cuts off circulation, and while it may have been tolerable without her touching it, the contact is enough to make it worse for him.

He asks, "Uh, speaking of, why are you the one doing this? Isn't it some kind of HIPAA thing to treat patients you've threatened to violate with tree branches before?"

The sound of her laughter makes his stomach flutter with butterflies, and he wonders what the hell is wrong with him.

"That's not what HIPAA is, genius"—her eyes crinkle at the sides with her wide smile while she wraps his leg—"and I'm the one doing this because I know way more medical shit than the rest of you."

Even Pope.

"Ohhh right, I forgot. Your dad is this hotshot surgeon and that makes you think you know everything," he taunts.

The casual mention of her father makes her chest ache with something not many of the Pogues, excluding Pope, have felt since being stranded on this island. With their parents either disowning them, absent, abusive, or dead, they have no reason to resist the allure of living here for the months or years it may take to be rescued, but she does.

She misses him.

For the longest time since her mom died, it was her and her dad versus the world. In everything they did, they did it together, and before she met Sarah, he was the closest she had to a best friend. Since they had no other family to help watch her as a child, she grew up in the hospital with him, drawing with crayons on his office’s printer paper with her babysitter and picking up small things along the way from watching him for so long.

He could've chosen to leave her at home, sure, but he didn't want to miss out on seeing her more than he already did, so she spent the majority of her childhood in offices, waiting rooms, and the indoor playground of the PEDs wing.

She takes a deep breath to steady herself after the sucker punch of being reminded of her dad and says, "Well, I know enough and, thankfully for you, I'm the one doing this instead of John B."

From far away, twenty or so feet offshore where their friend is paddling through the water with the lost spear held in one hand, they hear John B shouting an offended, "I heard that!" back at her. It draws a soft chuckle from them both, and she silently thanks him for distracting JJ one last time as she finishes and secures the bandage so it won't unravel.

She wipes her hands off on her water-soaked thighs one more time to get as much of his blood off of her fingers as possible before she reaches out with both arms extended to offer him help to stand. He takes them with a murmured, "Thanks," as they both try not to show how affected they are by the casual touch.

It makes them feel pathetic that something as small as holding each other's hands makes them remember what they did and desperately wish to continue it. Her throat bobs with how she must swallow the lump in her throat at their close proximity, barely breathing now that he's standing close to her with less than a few inches between them.

For a second, they don't move away. They stay face to face, and all she can think of is how badly she wants to kiss him again. But she can't do anything yet, not when she hears someone screaming from the water.

"There's a shark!" John B screams as he paddles back faster than he's ever swam in his life, already close enough to the peninsula that they can see the terror in his eyes when they turn to look.

Surely enough, there a tip of a fin too pointed to pass off as a dolphin cutting through the surface of the water to alert them of the fish's presence, but if that weren't enough, the water is clear enough for them to see its outline.

Thankfully for him, it isn't huge. It looks about as long as he is tall, but that doesn't change the degree of danger. Just because it isn't as big as other sharks doesn't make a bite any less lethal, especially when their only form of medical attention rests on her knowledgeable yet inexperienced shoulders.

For once in his life, JJ is frozen with no clue of what to do.

He's always the man with the plan, the one who jumps into action when others choke up and sit on the sidelines, but this makes him falter. What can he do to help other than stand here and pray John B can out-swim a shark? He's helpless, and now that he's faced with the prospect of losing his best friend for a second time, he doesn't know what to do.

It was his blood in the water that must have attracted the shark, and he was so caught up in his own drama with her and the pain of his cut that he didn't consider the danger of John B jumping in to retrieve the spear he dropped. It's his fault. His best friend is about to be eaten by a shark and it's his fault—

The blurred image of her rushing past in his peripheral vision rips him from his stormy thoughts, and right when he thought it couldn't get worse, it does. Water splashes up around her body and swallows her under the surface after she leaps off the edge of the rock with the aluminum spear from the dinghy raised in her dominant arm.

"Y/N!"

Before he even realizes what he's doing, JJ is screaming out her name, screaming it like he cares, and damns the consequences to dive in after her.

While he was frozen, she sprung into action without thinking of her own life first. She knew he was close to the rock, but not close enough to swim faster than a predator designed for the conditions of the ocean. It took one glance at the spear resting to the side for her to lean down, scoop it up, and get a running start to jump out as far as humanly possible. Various joints and muscles ached from how she strained to push herself far off the rock, taking flight with nothing but their survival in mind.

She sucks in a heaving breath upon breaking the surface, but she doesn't take a second to pause with John B paddling up to her so soon.

"Go back!"

The only answer she gives him is, "Use your spear!" before she brings hers out of the water in anticipation of the grey figure bolting straight for them.

It's a stupid plan, but it's the only one she has, and if one of them is in danger, they'd all risk everything they have to protect them. After all, they're already trapped here with the threat of death every day. Is there anything more worthy of dying for than your friends?

Neither of them is necessarily trying to kill it yet either, they're trying to keep it at a safe distance or hurt it enough so it swims away from them, but she puts all of her strength into spearing the fish between the eyes anyway. Her legs kick tirelessly to keep her afloat while she and John B stab as accurately as they can, choking down a mouthful of salty ocean water from how her head sinks at the surface without the help of her arms to keep her up.

Blood stains the water with a crimson hue spreading out around their bodies—whether it's theirs or the shark's, she doesn't know—and she must keep her lips clamped shut to prevent it from spilling into her mouth, breathing solely through her nose. She can tell her legs are soon to give out on her, but then a pair of hands latch onto her body. Call her irrational or stupid, but even with the clear distinction of human hands on her waist, her mind reacts in instinctual fear.

The touch makes her jolt mid-stab and sobers her feral mind back to reality for a moment until she realizes it's a human touching her, not the shark.

It's JJ.

His arms wrap around her thighs and hoist her up out of the water as much as he can while still swimming, effectively pushing himself underwater with one last gasp for air.

The sudden shift in view has her gaze shifting around to take in the new sights with a gush of red water rushing off of her onto the splashing surface: a light grey tail whips around in the chaos, the shark's head oozes blood from the multiple puncture wounds that didn't push quite deep enough, and its jaws snap right where John B's arm is before he yanks it back.

After a fraction of a second, it clicks with her that there's no time to waste watching her friend almost get his arm chomped off while she takes in the unbelievable sight. Her slippery grip on the handle remains as firm as possible, and she raises the spear over her head with an improved accuracy she never could've had from where she previously aimed it before. All of their shots landed well enough, but with the height advantage, she won't allow herself to fuck it up this time with her friend's life hanging in the balance.

She hardly recognizes her own frantic voice shouting at him, "Spear it in the gills!"

Her hands bring the razor-sharp tip of the spear down into its head repeatedly, and she isn't sure whether it's the splashing water or tears wetting her face when she buries the weapon down into it for a final time right when John B lodges his wooden spear in its gills.

Whatever she did, it must've hit its brain, because the animal halts its thrashing. Its teeth no longer snap at her friend, nor does its tail whip around in the water as violently as it did a moment ago.

As quickly as it started, it drops off into a sickening calm that leaves the white bubbles dissolving into a puddle of bloody water surrounding the trio and the fish that dies with no small amount of guilt on her part. There was no choice but to kill it. It makes her ache on the inside, but how could she regret it if she knows it saved them? The guilt might ravage her for the upcoming days, but she can't bring herself to regret jumping in after him.

She hardly has the chance to process it before she's being pulled away by both of the boys, her view of the scene shifting drastically once more with the abrupt drop of JJ letting her down in favor of guiding her through the gentle waves. His calloused hand squeezes her arm enough to cut circulation off on their journey back.

Time rushes past her in the next thirty seconds or so it takes them to reach the peninsula again in a paranoid sprint away from where the dead fish floats. One of them, John B she thinks, tosses the aluminum spear he dislodged from the shark's head up onto the rocks and clambers his way back up on his own. The waves closer to land grow rougher than the tender current out where they killed the shark, and she grunts in pain as one sends her and JJ straight into the rocks. His body hits her back with a solid ‘thump’ and forces her to wheeze with the wind getting knocked from her lungs upon impact, nails cracking on the black rock from the desperate grip she uses in an attempt to lift herself.

Meanwhile, JJ can't seem to catch his breath either, nor can he think of anything other than her once he sees that John B isn’t injured.

As soon as he sees his friend is unmarked from the teeth of the shark after he's out of the water, he positions himself behind Y/N to help her out first. He places his hands on her backside to push her up as quickly as he can. Knowing that the carcass in the water will soon attract more sharks in the surrounding area into a feeding frenzy, he'd rather it be him than her. It's a thought that shoots by too fast for him to fully acknowledge the meaning or weight of it at a time like this.

Somehow within his adrenaline-crazed mind, he is careful not to push her onto the jagged edge that sliced his leg open earlier, then climbs after her with little space left between them.

She's coughing up saltwater onto the rocks as he scrambles over to her, eyes wild with the petrifying worry of anything bad happening to her. They scan over her arms, legs, stomach, and back, and he doesn't even realize his hands are reaching out to inspect her as frantically as she had with him when he got hurt.

His hands cup her face, petting over her dripping hair and forcing her to look up so he can see if she somehow got hit in the face. Never has his mind been so void of rational thought, and, knowing him and his impulsive tendencies, that's saying a lot. The confusion of his contradictory feelings for her muddle his mind. Worry and hatred, attraction and anger—they battle it out, but only two manage to reach him externally.

Worry and anger it is. Worry for obvious reasons. Anger because—

"What the fuck were you thinking?"

She has never heard him sound so vicious since the start of whatever odd relationship/friendship/enemy-ship they have. With his worried expression and how he checked her entire body for injury after helping her out of the water, the last thing she would've anticipated from him was anger. Especially not after she saved his best friend's life. Considering what she just did for him, she thinks he should be thanking her, not chastising her.

Behind her back, she can hear a collection of yelling voices and splashing footsteps over the water dripping from them. It can only be the rest of their friends racing up the peninsula to them, but she can't turn around.

She stares at him with utter confusion flooding her at his unexpected outburst. Speechless.

"What was I thinking?" she asks incredulously with her face still cradled between his hands, "I was saving John B's life!"

Their emotional distance and disagreement are made up for in abundance by how physically entangled they've become. It wasn't intentional. It was a result of him needing to get close enough to scour her exposed skin for any bites, but now that they're sitting so near to each other, they forget to back away.

John B is too busy to engage with them.

He's doubled over on the ground with the compulsion to vomit the contents of his stomach into the ocean, but he doesn't dare get close to the edge again after what they went through. Instead, he positions himself away from them and their approaching friends until the half-digested food is forced back through his mouth. The acidic bile scorches his throat and nostrils on the way out.

JJ doesn't have the opportunity to retort back something about her being stupid, because Pope is the first person to reach them and ask, "What the hell happened?"

The rest of the group isn't far behind. It's Kie who asks the next question, then Sarah, then Cleo. They all pop off in rapid succession before either of the three of them can answer.

"Are any of you hurt?"

"Why is he throwing up?"

"Is that a shark?"

The last question draws everyone's attention over to the half-sunken mass of fish bobbing up and down on the breaths of the sea with a wooden spear sticking straight out of its gills. Though it isn't the biggest, most intimidating shark to roam the ocean, its presence doesn't fail to make everyone who looks at it shudder with the realization of what must have happened.

John B wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and points over at her with his trembling arm outstretched.

"She killed it."

The four of them whip their heads in her direction, jaws nearly falling off their faces in disbelief, but she doesn't say anything yet. Because as soon as they feel the eyes of their friends burning into them, she and JJ realize, as though they're returning to reality from the hazy layers of a dreamscape, that they're still holding each other.

She's slumped halfway onto him from when he hauled her body closer to inspect her, so she's essentially sitting on top of him at this point. Her legs, bruised and scratched up from when the waves crested to send them crashing into the rocks, are entangled around his enough that they look back and forth between them and where his hands cup her face in surprise.

JJ doesn't know what came over him.

Now that he snaps out of it at the same time as her, both of them separating and nudging each other away until their bodies are no longer entwined, he feels his cheeks flush in embarrassment.

When he saw her leaping past him to jump into the water, his mind shut off. He wasn't thinking about himself, or the possibility of getting killed, or anything at all. He was only thinking of the danger she put herself in, then he dove in and the rest of his conscious mind faded away into pure survival instinct. Yet, even after he knew the immediate danger was gone, the adrenaline kept him on edge, desperate to get her back to land and pray none of them were hurt.

"It was trying to attack him," she rasps. Her throat is raw from the saltwater she choked on, and every word burns. "But we did it together."

She pushes herself off the ground with an exhausted sigh.

Muscles spent from the struggle in the water, her legs wobble beneath the weight of her upper body as she takes a few steps to help John B up from his position on his hands and knees. From what she heard, he has thrown up all he has left in his stomach and hasn't gagged again in a minute or so, so attempting to stand again shouldn't be too strenuous for him.

His hand is cold in her grasp from the water soaking their bodies, but it holds firmly enough for her to help him into his feet without their palms slipping apart. No patches of blood are visible on his shorts, nor are there any puncture wounds on him from the sharp teeth that snapped at his arm in the quick but vigorous fight.

They were very, very fortunate to have made it out alive, and when he looks down at her face, he feels nothing but gratitude for the girl he previously saw as nothing more than his girlfriend's best friend. They went into the water as casual acquaintances, companions of convenience and the happenstance of being forced onto this island together, but they've come out of it differently. Now, they're friends.

Now, she's a Pogue.

He smiles at her, glancing up at their friends as their questions die down at the sight of his crazy grin, and says, "That was some real Pogue shit right there, Y/N." His eyes come back to meet hers. "I think it's about time we officially make you one of us. What do you think?"

She's opening her mouth to respond when Kiara cuts her off. The rest of them are staring at the trio as if they have ten heads sprouting from their bodies for not immediately surrendering more details of their near-death encounter other than saying she killed it.

"I'm sorry, can we please rewind to the part where you got attacked by a shark first?"

"Ladies and gentlemen, can I get a drumroll please for..."

The campfire is roaring with the abundance of sticks, leaves, and branches thrown onto the pile to fuel it as she feels a strong pair of arms looping around her thighs to lift her into the expansive, star-flecked sky.

In a flash of haunting memory, she relives the moment where JJ dove into the water after her and lifted her body above the surface to give her the high ground over the shark. She relives its thrashing hunger, the water splashing on her, and the cloudy hue of blood around them that she hoped wasn't either of the boys. For a second, as the world grows taller with her new perspective, she is brought back to the sudden shift she felt then and feels her stomach drop in panic, anticipating the danger.

But then the sound of her friends laughing, as well as the surging fire and crashing waves, comes back to her and forces the frightful flashback away. Her hip fits perfectly in the curve of John B's shoulder, and she lets her head fall back in giggling laughter at how he hoists her up in the air as though she's a holy figure of worship for the Pogues to kneel to.

His voice can likely be heard across the entire island when he shouts, "The Shark Conqueror!"

The group erupts into a triumphant mixture of cheers and laughter that fills the beach, everyone celebrating in their narrow escape earlier today...everyone except JJ.

After John B divulged the gory details of what happened, from JJ's fall to her picking up the spear and jumping in to save him from the shark, they made their way back with enough conversation to last the month. They all asked questions and took peeks back at where it happened in morbid curiosity, wondering how on earth they managed to come out of the situation without a scratch.

The rest of the afternoon continued on with the same buzzing energy that can only be created from the thrill of being alive. She's felt it many times since joining Sarah's group of friends that seem to find trouble wherever they go, but she has never felt it as vehemently as she does tonight. It's a mixture of euphoria, shock, and soul-crushing guilt for having to hurt another living creature, even one that was intending to make a meal of her friend.

No matter how much she grows up or discovers more about herself as a person, feelings never stop being as frustrating as they were to her as a child. You can get better at processing and hindering explosive reactions to them, but they never simplify. She doesn't know why she feels so much at once. She doesn't know why she feels simultaneously on top of the world and thrown off the edge of a cliff, but she thinks it has to do with him.

Since they walked back to the beach and talked about what happened until the day withered into night, which led them here to the “official” ceremony of her being named a Pogue for life, JJ hasn't spoken to her once.

Suddenly, the shoe is on the other foot.

Much like how she avoided him all night last night leading into this morning, he doesn't talk to her. He tries not to look at her too from where he sits on the log of driftwood across the fire, but it's somewhat inevitable with the spectacle John B is making of her at the moment.

Painted in the warm tones of the firelight like a goddess in her own right, Y/N is impossible to look away from, and it makes him angrier than he already is. A handwoven circlet crafted from the hibiscus and hippeastrum flowers growing in the forest around their camp sits atop her head. It doesn't fall to the ground with the movement of her throwing her head back in laughter. It stays in its rightful place against the rule of gravity until her face comes back into view for him to quickly look away from.

It dampers her laughter to see him avoiding her gaze so adamantly, taking a swig of water from one of the small cups they carved from wood and turning to talk to Kie to keep himself busy. The distinct sensation of being on top of the world slips away with the feeling of his cold avoidance and John B lowering her back to the ground until her bare feet sink into the soft sand.

Before she can start sulking about it for the foreseeable future, Sarah steps up beside her.

The familiar touch of a hand on her shoulder brings her comfort amidst her confusion and hurt over the way JJ is acting, and when she turns to see a pretty face looking fondly at her, a warm smile finds her lips.

"Pogue for life?" Sarah asks.

The three words bring make her smile grow the same way it had when she was talking to JJ on the peninsula. It crinkles the skin around her eyes with its unrestrained happiness to hear them because, as much as she pretends to let JJ's comments roll off of her, tonight marks one of the first times she's felt at home with them.

That's not to say they haven't made her feel welcome in the past, they did, but this isn’t the same. This is closer, this is the type of bond that's forged in situations like these where people have no choice but to rely on each other or let their worlds collectively fall apart, and she thinks, for the first time, that she could live here with them forever if she must.

None of them know how much time has passed since they arrived here, least of all her, but it sure as hell feels like an eternity. At first, she could barely withstand the idea of living here for months with the intention of being rescued as soon as possible, but now...

She brings Sarah into an embrace tight enough to force the air from their lungs.

"Pogue for life," she echoes back with her face buried into the salt-scented tresses of dirty blonde hair cascading over her tan shoulders.

Would it be crazy of her to think that this is where they're meant to be? That they're her family and this place she has fantasized about escaping is now their home?

After all, the lush island provides everything they need to sustain themselves with the rationing, scavenging, and hunting routines they adhere themselves to. Freshwater runs down the land in a stream from a water source uphill, plenty of different edible plants grow in the forest, and there's so much left of the expansive land to explore; it's perfect. Everything here is perfect for them, calling out to them to make it their home, but there's one little problem as of right now, and he's sitting across the fire behind her back.

Sarah's arms squeeze around her shoulders once to bring her in even closer.

"Thank you for saving him," her voice is so hushed, Y/N can hardly hear it with her lips brushing the shell of her ear to whisper into it, "I'm not gonna get all mushy with you right now, but I don't know what I would've done if"—Sarah's breath hitches in her throat, and she shakes her head—"I just wanted to thank you."

When they pull apart, Y/N is looking back at her with a knowing expression, one that says everything she can't in the presence of the others, and Sarah can't help but mirror it.

It isn't long before the blonde-haired beauty is whisked away by her boyfriend to help him cook the crabs they caught closer to shore after their encounter with the shark. Not wanting to swim out or risk slipping off the rocks again with the dead fish promising to lure more predators to their area for the next week or so, they settled for hunting for shellfish and making good use of the fruits they find growing in wild abundance in the forest.

The night ticks away in swiftly passing minutes thanks to the humorous company of the people around her.

She nearly chokes on a mouthful of banana as Cleo tells a story from before she met them, when she used to live in Nassau and work jobs with Terence and Stubbs on ships. For such new additions to the group, they both fit surprisingly well with the lifelong childhood friends that sit around and banter with such ease together.

They talk, laugh, dance, and eat together, and there are moments when she feels happier than ever. There are moments exactly like when John B lifted her up and made her giggle at how their friends cheered on her behalf in indulgence of the silly "ceremony" they did, half out of boredom and half out of gratitude for what she did. But then she is reminded of the man sitting on the outskirts of the group with his features hardened into an expression of contemplation she wishes she could decode.

The night breeze feels heavenly on her perpetually overexposed skin. It blows into the fire and allows it to swell from the oxygen supply, crackling and popping embers out every so often like the spark of the zippo lighter JJ fidgets with in his restless hands. The movement attracts her wandering eyes while they should be focused on Cleo and Kie dancing around the fire with boisterous laughter while Sarah and Pope sing for them.

She keeps herself honed in on the opening and closing of the lighter under the guidance of his ring-clad fingers for the next minute or so.

They may have been pitting themselves against each other since they met, but that doesn't mean she doesn't know him well. If anything, the keen attention that her old hatred for him forced her to keep on him made her memorize everything there is to know. And she surely has picked up on the nervous habit of him playing with the lighter whenever he's thinking, whenever there's something crawling under his skin that he can't piece together.

He sits with his back to her, facing out toward the ocean so all she can see is the hand he uses to flick the lighter open and shut with. With a quick glance at the rest of their friends to see if any of them are watching or wanting to speak with her, she pushes herself up from the log and dusts her sandy palms on her shirt.

The tracks of her footsteps lead around the corner of the driftwood he rests against until her feet appear, sunken into the sand in front of him. It takes a lot of control to not allow himself to follow up the length of her body, panning up along her legs until he sees that infuriatingly tenderhearted set of eyes looking down at him.

However, he doesn't have a choice in looking when her hand outstretches in a silent invitation. His first glimpse of her in the last half-hour shows her jerking her chin in the direction of the beach curving around the bend of the island.

This morning, he probably would've taken her up on the offer. He would've done anything to get a few minutes alone with her, but now he can't see past his anger and doesn't know why. He doesn't know why it hasn't calmed yet, but, in truth, it has more to do with him than it does her idiotic yet brave decision to fight off a shark today. Trust him, it still has a lot to do with the idiotic shark thing, but the rest is lost in translation for him.

"Not in the mood," he dismisses her.

Her brows furrow and form a crease between them as she tries to find something to say but comes up with nothing. At least not until it clicks with her what he thought she was trying to do by inviting him to walk with her.

The last time they went off on their own together, it ended in an explosive encounter they have yet to erase from their minds. It's what greets them whenever they close their eyes for a second too long, existing in their wildest daydreams and fantasies whenever they have a spare moment to themselves. Hell, he can't stop thinking about it even when he's already occupied. It was the reason why he didn't catch any fish this morning before the incident that made him pissed at her in the first place. He couldn't stop thinking of her.

"Oh," she murmurs and starts to kneel down until her knees are sinking into the sand the same way she did when patching up his leg. Her eyes peek over his shoulder to ensure the others didn't hear them—"That wasn't what I meant...I was just wondering if you wanted to talk about today. It must have been a lot to process, since he's your best friend and all, and—"

JJ snaps, unable to tolerate it anymore, and stands up from his spot on the sand to move away from her.

"You don't need act all therapist with me, okay? I'm fine, and I don't need you to fix me if that's what you wanted. Today was fine. Everything's fine, so let it go."

Her mouth opens and closes like a fish with a loss for words. For the second time in the span of a minute, she is grasping blindly for something to say in the wake of him shocking her to silence. He's starting to walk past her but she doesn't let him. Her hand shoots out to stop him and holds onto his arm to turn him back despite his rudeness.

Underneath it all, her concern touches him deeply. It shouldn't trigger a reaction like this in him, so why does it? What about today set him off? He hasn't been this genuinely angry with her since before the hunt for the gold began, before she started to blend into their friend group and establish herself as one of them.

"Woah, woah, woah," she says, "I never said that. I thought that you needed someone to talk to. You know, as a friend."

Their friends start to notice their interaction tensing up now. Before, they didn't pick up on her stepping away for a second to check on him. Now, it's impossible to ignore what unfolds hardly six steps from where they watch as slyly as they can. The two of them haven't had a conversation as cold as this one in months, and what he says next takes it to a place that freezes over the connection they made last night and shatters the warm place it held in her heart.

He scoffs.

"We're not friends. If you think you gotta act different 'cause you threw yourself at me last night, don't bother. You hate me and I hate you. That's how it is."

No nicknames, jokes, or anything to act as a buffer, just cruelty. Rejection.

Though they truly were trying to pretend like they weren't paying attention, every single one of their friends stops and stares. A chorus of hushed reactions sound off from across the fire, and the faint sound of Kie muttering, "Oh shit," is the first thing to reach their ears. It's needless to say that none of them could've expected something so callous to come from him, not after what they saw when they ran up to them on the peninsula this morning.

With the way he was holding her then, doting on her and cradling her face between his hands even in the midst of his anger at what she did, they sooner expected the pair to admit they're dating than have a blowout like this.

In the delayed seconds it takes for her to realize what the fuck he just said to her, he watches her face shift from a look of concern to sadness, to flush-faced embarrassment, then finally to anger. Her teeth grind together, nostrils flaring on her inhale, and in one quick moment, she comes to a conclusion within herself.

She reaches up to rip the handmade crown of vibrant flowers off her head with flames to match the camp fire flaring up in her eyes for him. Before she can do anything, he already knows he crossed a line, if not multiple lines. It's evident in everything he sees, from the hurt look on her face to the force with which she shoves the crown into the center of his chest to send him stumbling back a few steps. Just like yesterday, except it couldn't be any more different.

"Fuck. You." She spits the words as though they're venomous, and he almost shrinks away under the intensity of her stare, “Go find somewhere else to sleep tonight, 'cause it sure as hell isn't gonna be with me."

Petals flutter out upon impact against his solid chest and float peacefully to the sand around his feet as he watches her turn on her heels and storm off toward their hut. Though, after what he did and what she said to him as a goodbye, it isn't really theirs anymore, is it? At least not for tonight, tomorrow, or the next day until he finds a way to make her hear him out for an apology.

He stands there, frozen, the entire time he watches her leave. Nothing can move him from the spot, not even Sarah knocking her shoulder against his with a pointed glare on her way past to follow her into the moonlit darkness.

He doesn't even resist the disappointed looks he gets, or the shoulder check from Sarah. This time, he deserves it. He deserves every ounce of their judgment. All she was trying to do was make sure he was okay and he was too consumed in his unreleased frustration from today to see it. And, in a way, he's still frustrated over it, but it's greatly overshadowed by the guilt seeping through him.

The shadowy shapes of the two girls disappear into the small hut further down the beach, and JJ is left with nothing to do but look down at the flower crown clutched to his chest in regret.

Tag List: @gabiatthedisco, @fangirlvoice, @black-syren, @apparrio, @particularcth, @planetdemon, @idk-ijustworkhere, @krisphann, @astrydis, @k-k0129, @zarahsloves, and @stilesflannels.

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank smut #outer banks #obx #fanfiction #obx2 #this fic is so over the top and silly but I love it 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

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goosedawn · 2 years

Text

selkies and scales worldbuilding + character info

under the cut you will find: general info on selkies and mermaids in this au, as well as some information on the currently revealed selkies/mermaids (... and also ranboo)

this ended up getting away from me, so a post about characters and their relations will be made later when it's not 4am (im dying to talk about the dynamics between characters here, but I need sleep unfortunately)

(also dw im. im getting to the requests ive got in my askbox, i just had to get this out of my brain while i work on those)

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Selkies

A general rundown about selkies for those who don't know what they are: Selkies are Scottish mythological creatures that can shift between a seal form and a human form.

When shifting to their human form, selkies shed their seal-skin, and must wear that same skin to return to being a seal. In stories they often have an urge to return to their seal form after some amount of time.

In this AU many selkies choose to stay in their seal form and just... never leave the water. Other selkies may move between the two carefully, and even fewer choose to live life mostly on land. Those who live on land don't need to turn into seals, and can permanently live on land if they so wish, but they will still feel that itch to return to the sea. Other ocean-dwelling selkies will also be more wary of land-dwelling selkies.

Selkies may take on a human partner, and their children will either be fully human or a selkie. If the birthing parent was a human the child will be human, and if they were a selkie- it depends on what form they are in when they give birth. If a selkie takes on a seal partner, the child will be a selkie regardless of the birthing parent.

Wilbur is based on a harbour seal! His seal form is larger than his human form, around 7'5" (226cm) or so in length. Harbour seals are usually only around 6ft long, but Wilbur is TALL so he gets to be Extra Long.

He was seperated from the rest of his herd from when he was a kid, and was found washed up on the shore by the local lighthouse keeper, Phil. He took care of Wilbur and decided to raise him alongside his own son (Tommy). Wilbur made the decision to stay on land, having grown attached to the strange man and his son, and basically took the role as Tommy's older brother. As he grew older he began working as a fisherman (and that's how he met Sally!)

Wilbur doesn't return to his seal form often, and even less after meeting Sally. He wishes he was not split between the ocean and the land. Instead of wesring his sealskin on him, he wears a heavy coat which gives him some of the same comfort, without the weight of the ocean on his shoulders.

Mermaids

In the selkies and scales au, mermaids are creatures that mimic certain fish, and school with them. They protect the school, and in return gain protection via camouflage. It's rare for a mermaid to mimic a non/rarely-schooling fish, but they do exist! Mers inherit what species of fish they mimic, and as such, display traits that benefit the diet/lifestyle of that particular species.

Sally for example has sharp teeth that are meant for gripping and crunching shrimp shells, rather than cutting through flesh. Tubbo has webbed fingers as his lifestyle is more suited to foraging while stirring up the seabed. His ventral fins are stiffer and further up his body, which allows him to "perch" or kinda. float just above the ocean floor as he scavenges. His claws aren't quite as sharp as Sally's, so he makes use of a bone knife to crack open shellfish and stab food, as well as for self defence.

Many mer tend to keep weapons or tools similar to that in order to escape from nets or for aiding hunting and defense. Sally just happened to lose hers at an inopportune time :P!!

Mermaids vary wildly in size, and is largely dependent on the size of the fish they mimic. There are two main scales (ha) of mermaid that determine the size of a mer in relation to their mimicked species, one that depends on the overall (average) length of a fish to determine overall length, while the other depends on the overall size of a fish to determine the size of the tail. Both Sally and Tubbo are on the smaller scale of their species, Sally is around 48cm long (1'7"), and Tubbo is around 25cm (10 inches) I spent too long debating whether or not scales could interbreed or not then decided its not important to this AU and I have an exam in a couple days so I'm leaving it for now ahskfhj

Mermaids can live out of the water for a while by breathing air, similar to fish with labyrinth organs! They still require to be moist. (thank u to bio anon for bringing up the idea in a seperate discussion abfjfbd)

It's like 3am so I will save talking about the concept flex-fluid lungs/gills (lungills..???) for later because I need to do more research and thinking, and well. I am also. not a biologist, so instead I will move onto...

Muirie (Selkie-Mermaids) sorry i dont have a name for them rn

(Merkies. Selmaids. I really don't know what to call them hsjsvfjfbfk)

AKA Ranboo! Thank you to anon for giving me the idea/inspiration for what to do with him!

Ranboo has a mermaid form and a human form! While he sheds his. f.... fish skin(?) he retains some of the scales on his face, arms, legs and back. He also still has strange colourful mermaid eyes, and as such he wears a mask and glasses to hide his fishy aspects.

His mer form is... a lot larger than his human form, magically his coat/skin is rather normal sized though. He is based on a black marlin, and his total length is around 4 1/2 m (a little under 15ft)! (He is not the biggest mer I have planned by far, but that scale is... a little skewed by one character so. Overall Ranboo is a big boy.)

Much like traditional selkies, Ranboo can also permanently live on land! He actually spent most of his childhood on land, and only moved to this seaside town recently, moving in with his half-sister Niki at her bakery! He meets Tommy first, then later Tubbo when he goes poking around the beach. Ranboo knows he is a mer-selkie, and is excited to experience more of his mermaid form, and later gets into shenanigans with the other two :]!!

Wait, more about selkies

In this AU selkies are not only seals! Other ocean dwelling creatures can also be selkies/selkie-adjacent creatures, but more often those who are, tend to be selkie-mermaids like Ranboo rather than true "selkies". I want to figure out another name for non-seal selkies but for now you get the point. Some examples of possible creatures are: sharks (sharkies? shjdhf), dolphins and whales.

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END

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as mentioned earlier i will make a seperate post about characters and how they play into this au, but i hope this was entertaining also!

have this picture of wilbur and sally again as a thank you

if you have any questions about this, or about specific characters feel free to drop an ask!!

if you got here ! congrats and thank you for reading! or skimming. i respect that.

#mcyt g/t #mcyt gt #dsmp g/t #dsmp gt #selkies and scales #ss!sally #ss!wilbur #ss!tubbo #ss!ranboo #ss!philza #worldbuilding #i thiiiiink thats all #for now at least #SLEEP TIME NOW

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buildmeafairytale · 3 years

Text

Female Reader x Male Selkie

This is my very first commission! I was commissioned by @shy-basementchild for a birthday present for her friend, @anjhope1. They’re the sweetest and I’m so glad I got to write this for them! It was fun to write and a new experience to write for someone other than myself. I hope you guys enjoy reading it and if anyone is interested in a commission or monster match, my ko-fi is here.

You leave your house in the afternoon and the cool air is nothing but a familiar comfort under the layers you have on. Like most days, the rocky beach beckons you to its shore. You manuvare the cliffs like you’ve done it a thousand times. You probably have by now. This place has been home for a while now. The town is more of a small fishing village but there’s a touristy block that has lots of shops that you frequent. It’s a cold and rainy place, but it just makes your house feel all the cozier for it.

The beach is even colder, with the chill turning your nose rosie. You breathe in the crisp air, relishing in the way it stings your lungs. You gaze out towards the rolling waves only to see what looks like a head poking out of the water. It’s foggy and far enough away that you convince yourself it’s a seal, not dwelling on it while you take your walk.

You’ve established a routine in this seaside village. You do a bit of freelance work in the mornings and leave the afternoons for your adventuring, finding the best coffee spots and shops in town. But the beach is your favorite by far. From the way the rocks crunch under your foot to the rhythmic sounds of the waves lapping the shore, this was your happy place.

The next day is quite the same. You walk your beach, picking up stray bits of trash you find. This time when you look out to the ocean, the head that pops up looks much more like a man’s than a seal. Your breath catches in your throat and you can’t tear your eyes away. He’s still so far away, bobbing along with the waves and seemingly staring right back at you. And then he’s gone, just as quickly as he was there. As you walk the hair on the back of your neck prickles. You feel like you’re being watched but every time you turn to look no one is there.

This goes on, but the next few times he seems to get closer. It takes some time to come to terms with the fact your mind isn’t playing tricks on you, but by the time he’s closer to the shore you can no longer deny it. You wave and he just tilts his head and stares. You’re confused and unsure about things, and feel a bit crazy. You wonder if the fishermen working the docks would know anything about the mysterious man in the water so you make a trip down there

The docks are several miles up the beach, and you always make a point to avoid it. It’s bustling with people going between boats emptying lobster traps and the air smells like fish. You're nervous and watching your feet, making sure you don’t misstep on the slippery wood underneath you. You feel like everyone is looking at you but hardly anyone has seemed to bat an eye at your presence, all of them too busy to worry about you. You keep scanning the crowd in hopes of finding someone to ask about your man in the water. You’re ready to give up when you lock eyes with a man. A man you would recognize anywhere, since you’ve seen him everyday floating in the waves.

He is a presence and something to behold. He sits high up on a fishing barrel and his feet are still firmly planted on the ground. Muscular legs connect to a thick middle wrapped in a classic fisherman’s sweater. Long chestnut hair is tied back from his face and he holds a knife and apple in his hands. You stare and he raises his hand in greeting. The noise of the docks retreats to a buzzing in the back of your mind and you hold your breath. Time stands still and butterflies build before you're being bumped into by busy workers. The spell is broken and you rush out apologies for being in the way. You turn and leave as quickly as you came, having even more questions than when you arrived.

The next day you’re at your beach early with a book to occupy your time. You decide to stay there until you get some answers. You’re comfortable waiting and hope maybe he’ll come say hello. The grey eyes haunt you every time you close your own and you are restless. Was he some sort of creep, watching you from the water? He certainly didn’t look like the type to spy on women. He didn’t look like the type that would have to, gosh. Not that his good looks automatically made him trustworthy, but they certainly lowered your inhibitions.

While you were lost in thought of the handsome stranger, he had materialized in the sea not a hundred feet away from you. It startled you, but you waved anyway.

“Hi!” you yell out, tired of the voiceless staring contest that has been occurring. His lips twitch and he echoes your sentiment.

“Hi there,” he calls back, bobbing in the water.

“Isn’t it a bit too cold to swim?”

“A bit too cold for you, maybe,” he observes, his voice amused and carrying without strain despite the sound of the crashing waves.

You don’t know how to respond to this and the conversation fades when he dips under the surface, popping up a few feet away from where he was. His movements in the water are graceful and he swims in little laps not far from you. His upper body is bare to you above the black water, and he is thick corded muscle under a layer of softness that makes you want to touch him. He says nothing else to you but he doesn’t protest to your eyes on him. He seems content to be in your company and it isn’t for another while that he swims away and around the side of a cliff face, waving goodbye at you. You lose sight of him and while part of you is worried, the other part of you knows he must do this often and is obviously a practiced swimmer.

He’s there before you the next day and chattier too. He tells you his name is Aegis and asks you for yours. He asks what you do for work and how you like living in the small town. You tell him about your house up on the cliff and how much you love it. For how brooding and intimidating you first had found him, he was quickly becoming a friend. The conversation flowed easily and was comfortable, the two of you bantering a bit too.

“There’s so much beach, too. I love to see the water.”

“Not much to do besides sit at the beach, yeah?”

You shrug, “I like it here, it’s quiet. Or used to be, not that I oppose the company,” you jest at him, watching him take it all in stride.

“I’d hope not,” he flashes you a grin, “can’t have my beach buddy getting sick of me so soon.”

You give him a goofy grin back, trying to tamper down the butterflies growing in your stomach. You sit closer to him and the water, finding a comfortable seat on a washed up driftwood tree. “Maybe when it warms up I’ll join you for a swim,” you speak softly, picking at shells and rocks you like. You squeal when cold water splashes you, Aegis laughing when he has your attention.

“You ass!” you squeal out, going to splash him back. He bobs under the water again to evade you, an unmistakable grin stretched across his face. Your hand goes in the water to splash him back but it’s so cold it hurts and stings at your skin. That snaps you out of your playful game, and when Aegis comes up and sees the serious look in your eyes he tilts his head.

“What’s that look for?”

“Aegis, seriously, how the hell are you okay to swim? You aren't even wearing a wetsuit!. I don’t know how you don’t get hypothermia! ” You’re concerned and can’t help but reprimand him, unsure how he manages to not even have red skin from the water.

“I guess I’m just built different, lovely,” he says with an easy smile, leaning into a backstroke.

“Oh, built to withstand freezing cold water? Yeah, you’re different all right,” you tease back, retreating out of the water’s reach.

Things go on like this for days and the two of you get familiar with each other’s schedules, seamlessly working into the other’s routine. Aegis seems down today though, and he doesn't hesitate to inform you why.

“I have to go on a charter for a few days. I won’t be back until Tuesday,” he pouts, his pillowy lips exaggerated. You try not to let them distract you too much but he smirks like he notices you looking. You play along, pouting back.

“Aw, you’re gonna miss me too much?” you tease, despite knowing the next several days without him aren’t going to be as fun.

“Desperately,” he says back, in an all too serious way that makes your heart race. He winks and grins, dispelling the intensity and turning things playful again, something he seemed greatly skilled at. He flirts in jokes but never leaves any tension or pressure lingering which you were grateful for.

The days he is gone feel as if they last forever. It’s silly, really, how fond you’ve grown of him in such a short amount of time. You avoid the beach completely while he’s gone, knowing it will just make you miss your friend even more. Despite the way the time crawls by, though, Tuesday morning eventually comes around.

Something shocking greets you when you arrive at your beach that day. Aegis is there, but is perched on a large flat boulder. Instead of the thick legs you saw filling his jeans like you did on the docks, his lower half is that of a seal. It’s longer than his legs would be and heavy with blubber. He studies your reaction and you’re fascinated. You’ve heard talk of selkies before, the legend being popular in this part of the country, but you hardly thought you would see one in real life.

You try to look less confused than you are, not wanting to hurt aegis with an adverse reaction. You can feel his eyes on you, watching you watch him.

“Uh, hi?” you say to him, getting a calculating ‘hello’ back.

You nod to yourself while looking at him, “Okay, this makes sense? This is a better explanation than I had, at least.”

“Trying to rationalize my swimming habits, lovely?”

“Trying to rationalize you, lovely.” you toss back, feeling better when the same devious grin he’s worn around you makes an appearance. It’s still Aegis, and this is who he is. Or part of him, apparently.

“I wanted to show you, but I have a rule, lovely.”

“Rule?” you ask him, confused.

“Yes, a rule. Humans have taken advantage of my kind far too many times. So if I’m showing you this, and I’m going to keep coming back to see you, I need you to listen to me,” he tells you, full intensity focused on you. He goes on to explain the history of his people, the power of the sealskin, and the way humans would steal them to control selkies. He tells you in the past someone tried to steal his sealskin, but he could feel their intentions and replaced it with a fake, catching them in the act. These stories obviously pain him, and hearing about the kind selkies being taken advantage of in such a way is enough to make your heart clench.

“Never touch my sealskin.” He says, informing you of his rule.

“I would never,” you vow, throat tight with emotion. He nods at you, and then smiles. “Well come on then, out with the questions.” He doesn’t have to ask you twice, beckoning you close. You sit by him and let the questions start. They pour out of your lips and he answers them readily with a gleam in his eyes.

You’ve never been this close to him and you really soak in his appearance. His tail is mottled with creamy spots and patches, reminding you a little of your own birthmark. His lower half looks so soft and squishy but you know it must be powerful. Hair dusts his chest and other human skin, the curls making you want to run your hands over them.

It feels like some beautiful dream. You thank him for sharing this part of him with you and head home for the day, but as soon as you’re inside you're doubting that it really happened. But it did, and you see him again and again, each time feeling less like a daydream and more like a wonderful and magical reality.

“Your hair is going to get so tangled like that,” you tell him one day as he swims, watching his hair trail after him in the water. You wince in sympathy when you imagine him picking out the knots.

He grunts, “You’re telling me, I go through so much conditioner getting the knots out,” he responds, peeved.

“Well swimming with it down would do that! Why don’t you let me braid it?” you offer, instantly regretting it. The thought of sitting that close to him, of feeling the heat off of his skin as you run your hands through his hair is enough to make you feel light headed. Say no thanks, you think, unsure how you’ll handle this. Of course, he readily agrees.

“Okay,” he smiles, and you turn to let him get out of his sealskin and cover up. He sits in front of you and his shoulders part your thick thighs. You pick up his hair and it’s a matted mess. You don’t feel like running up to your house to get any tools so you slowly part the tangles with your fingers.

“It’s a knotted mess, Aegis,” you scold, trying not to hurt his scalp. He whines and exaggerates his wincing, acting as if you’re wounding him. “Big baby,” you mutter, sectioning off chunks with your hands. By the time it’s braided and secured with your extra tie the sun is going down. He’s slumped against you, sleepy.

“It’s supposed to be nice tomorrow, pretty girl. Swim with me?” he asks, voice slurred. You’re hesitant, not because you don’t trust him, but you’re a bit embarrassed about the idea of him seeing so much of your body.

“I have a birthmark,” you mutter, not looking at him. He turns and frowns at you with his forehead scrunched.

“Okay, and? You don’t owe me anything, but you know I have a literal tail right?”

“Oh what, you showed me yours and now I show you mine?” you giggle at him.

“I don’t think I’ve shown you anything yet,” he winks at you, flirting back while he gets up. The two of you get ready to leave your beach, packing things away. Aegis grabs his sealskin, but instead of putting it on he neatly folds it. “Would you give me a ride home? If you don’t mind, I mean. All dried off and I don't want to get in again.”

“Of course, just let me get my keys.”

The drive is quiet and comfortable, and his house isn’t far. To be fair though, nothing in this town is very far. When you pull into his driveway he leans over and kisses you on the cheek, eliciting a small gasp from you.

“Goodnight, sweet girl,” he tells you, an easy smile on his face. You feel your own heat up and you mumble back a goodnight. Your cheek tingles with his kiss your whole drive home.

In the morning you’re there earlier than normal and in your bathing suit trying not to look nervous about his reaction. Your birthmark stretches across and over a great deal of your skin, and while a lot of people assure you that it is unique and beautiful, you have been ridiculed plenty for it in the past. It makes you nervous to show new people and you only reveal it to those you trust. But you trust Aegis and he obviously trusts you too.

It’s as if Aegis can sense your nerves because he doesn’t make you wait long and talks you into the water right away. He compliments you but doesn’t linger or talk about your birthmark, only pulling you in the water with him. The cold has you sucking in air and your nipples pebbling in your swimsuit but Aegis pulls you close. The heat coming off of his body works to warm you, making the swim much more doable.

“You’re not luring me out into the ocean to drown me or anything, right?” you ask, legs bumping into his tail.

“I’m a selkie, not a siren,” he tsks, “we’re much nicer, I might just dunk you a few times,” he retorts, swimming further out.

“Um, are there sharks out here?” you ask him, suddenly aware of how far you are from shore.

“I’ve never had a problem with them,” he shrugs casually, doing nothing to assuage your worries.

“Sharks eat seals, ya know,” you point out to him.

“Good thing I have you here to protect me then, huh?” he teases, curling your legs around his middle. Once you’re secure, he gives a few strong thrusts of his tail and sends the two of you back closer to shore. You play in the water most of the day and go up to your house to eat. He showers and you take him home again, only after he insists you re-braid his hair.

You spend more time together and swimming with him quickly becomes the best part of your day. He kisses your cheek every time you drop him off at home too, his lips lingering more and more. The touches shared as you swim together have gotten less and less innocent as well. You find yourself falling for him and you think he likes you too, but one day the two of you reach a breaking point. You’re having a nice picnic after a long swim when things take a turn.

You reach across Aegis’s lap for the pitcher of juice, rattling on about your day, when it slips out of your hand. It spills onto his seal skin, and you don’t think you’ve ever panicked so quickly. “I’m so sorry! Oh my gosh let me clean that,” you grab towels to try to dab up your mess, picking up his seal skin in the process. Apologies keep falling from your lips but then you notice that Aegis is just staring at you with a clenched jaw. You gasp and drop the sealskin, realizing what you’ve done. As soon as it falls from your grasp, Aegis has it in his own, finally able to move to do so. He stands and starts to walk towards the shore and already has the sealskin halfway wrapped around himself before you can belt out another apology.

He wades into the water and you run to try to catch up. You get close, begging him to wait, until he finally turns to you. “I had one rule!” he barks out at you, seething. “You’re just like everyone else! How dare you!” His words are laced with venom, and you can’t help but step back as if he’s striked you. There is a block in your throat and you don’t say anything else, you only stand there and watch him leave, taking his selkie form and swimming into the depths.

Pitiful whimpering noises start to leave you, and since you’re all alone you let yourself cry. You’re ashamed you slipped up and touched his pelt, unable to get the betrayed look on his face out of your head. You’re angry at him too for not listening or giving you the benefit of the doubt, though. Some friend he was, you pout, shakily hiking up the cliffside.

You hope that Aegis will come around. The guilt is like rolling concrete in your stomach and you try to assure yourself that things will be okay. You just go through the motions to try to make yourself feel better, showering and taking your time brushing out your hair. Everytime you blink, though, his angry eyes are there, looking so accusatory back at you. It was an accident, you know you didn’t mean to, you tell yourself, wishing you could take back your mistake.

You go back to your beach the next day, hoping he’ll be there. He isn’t, and he isn’t there the next either. Or the day after that. You’re getting fed up with him avoiding you. You just want to talk things out and have your friend back, but it seems as though he is set on being stubborn about it.

You’ve been stress cooking the last few days, and when you looked to survey the damage you realize that you made most of Aegis’s favorite foods. The plan falls together then and you package it up to bring it to him at work. This could very well be crossing some boundaries but you could deal with that if it meant Aegis would forgive you.

Traversing the docks is just as nerve racking at it was the first time, this time maybe even more so since you’re carrying a hot dish with you. You duck under the arms of the people towering over you, and you finally get to the stretch of winding docks Aegis can usually be found dwelling on. And he is there, sitting right next to his boat like you expect him to be. What you don’t expect, however, is the stunning woman sitting next to him, stroking his arm in a too familiar way. She’s almost tall as he is with a scarf tied around her hair in an effortless way. You feel your heart sink into your stomach when they both turn and see you.

All of the sudden you feel ridiculous and humiliated, standing on the docks with a tupperware of food for a man who has already apparently moved on from you. You’re a deer caught in the headlights, but the woman starts to stand and smile at you. You pivot on your feet and hurry back the way you came, maneuvering through the crowd with a level of ease provided by your small stature. The whole walk home your face is burning in embarrassment. This isn't some stubborn silent treatment after a fight. You had broken his one rule and now all the romantic gestures and sweet words meant nothing.

You know there was nothing official or set in stone, hell, the two of you hadn’t even really kissed yet, but it certainly felt like things were leading that way. Your eyes burn when you think of the way his lips lingered on your cheeks and the way he let you wrap yourself around him in the water. You think of him doing those things with another woman and feel sick to your stomach. You enjoyed life just fine before you met him, and you tell yourself you will enjoy life just the same now that he wants nothing to do with you. It was an obvious lie, especially to yourself. You cry when you reach the safety of your home, wrapping yourself in a nest of blankets you refuse to leave.

You eventually have to leave though, just to get some fresh air and try to shock yourself into feeling better. Instead of walking your shore, you end up at one of the cliffs looking down on the water. You don’t stray too close to the edge in fear of the height but it still provides you a great view of the ocean. You sit and watch the waves crash against the rocks below.

While you’re up there, you hear a car sputtering in the distance. You watch it get close and pull into your driveway and out steps one of the friends you made in town. His name is Jamie, and he works at the touristy coffee shop you frequent. “Hey!” he waves, walking over to you on gangly legs. “I hope you don’t mind me stopping by, you’re always gushing about this place and I wanted to see what all the fuss was about,” he tells you, giving you a boyish grin. He’s sweet and you don’t mind him joining you.

It feels good to reclaim your beach like this, hanging out with a new friend. Jamie is nice and genuine and has no rules to follow when it comes to your relationship with him. He feels safe and easy. After the first day he comes by, you don’t expect him to come back. But he does, he comes back again with your favorite drink order in hand. “I got your usual,” he tells you, a bright smile on his face when you open your door to him.

“Aw thanks, you didn’t have to do that!” you tell him, excited and flattered by the gesture. He just shrugs and smiles at you more, scratching at the back of his neck. “Let me just get my coat,” you say, ready for another walk on the beach. He is too, and you spend the day rattling on to one another. He’s a little awkward and it makes you feel awkward too, but it’s more endearing than anything. You can’t help that your gaze keeps wandering out to the sea, waiting to see Aegis between the waves. You don’t, though, even if you think you feel his eyes on you.

“You okay?”

You shake yourself out of your thoughts, “Sorry,” you smile, “just daydreaming a bit is all.” Daydreaming about your days here spent with Aegis, the sun shining in his ocean grey eyes. You miss him and wish things had ended differently.

Jamie sits on a rock and you follow his lead, getting comfortable and enjoying the rare moment of sunshine. Jamie suddenly clears his throat next to you, catching your attention. “Would you,” he sputters on, his cheeks pink, “would you want to go on a date sometime? I’d really love to take you on one.” Your heart is pounding and ears are ringing. This sort of thing always makes you anxious but you’re stopped before you’re able to respond.

“No.”

A firm and angry voice sounds from behind you. If you thought you were nervous before, it was nothing compared to this. Jamie’s gaze is locked above your head and he looks confused.

“Uh, I wasn’t asking you?”

“She will not be going on a date with you. I’d say sorry but I’m not,” Aegis snaps out, and you stop yourself from turning to look at him.

“Aegis, what the fuck?” The woman from before is there too then, and you finally look at them. They’re both dripping wet and carrying seal skins. The woman is a selkie too, then. Your heart drops and it makes sense he would rather be with her. She was gorgeous and surely easier to trust than a human.

“I’m so sorry for my brother’s behavior,” she scowls, “he can be a real dickhead sometimes.”

“Brother?” you ask, shock lacing your voice. Aegis and his sister snap their attention to you, then, and his face morphs from a mask of fury to one of understanding and sadness. He comes closer after a pause.

“Yes, sweet girl, my sister. You thought the worst of me, yeah?”

Jamie chimes in “Uh, sweet girl?” he asks “Oh! Oh shoot, sorry, gosh, sorry I thought you were single.” Jamie looks at you though, and sees your red cheeks and your inability to form a response and comes to your aid. “Actually, do you want to go home? You look uncomfortable.” You just nod and get your things, grateful to have a friend like him.

“Yeah, I think I should head home. Um, I’ll talk to you later Jamie. Nice to meet you, by the way,” you say, polite and looking at Aegis’s sister.

“Were you...swimming? It’s freezing!” is the last thing you hear Jamie say before you’re rushing away.

Aegis tails you to your house, pleading with you. “Please, at least let me talk to you,” he begs, desperation clear in his voice. You’re out of breath from your quick ascent up from the beach and too flustered and embarrassed to talk to him. You’re angry that he thinks he could ignore you after blowing up on you and then come back acting like he had some sort of claim on you.

“Not now,” is all you manage to say.

“Aegis! For fucks sake, leave her be!” his sister yells out, and you’re grateful for the intervening. You head inside your house and leave the rest of them outside. Jamie leaves and Aegis and his sister head back down towards the water, likely leaving the same way they came. Aegis looks back several times, catching your eye in the window. I’ll talk to him soon, you think. Just not right now, not until you sort out the mess of feelings you have.

You can’t help but be conflicted. Seeing Aegis standing there dripping wet and all possessive over you stirred your desire. You have to remind yourself to be angry and stand your ground. He needs to learn how to communicate, not just act like a neanderthal and manage to win you back based on sheer attractiveness. His words still stung and he had lots of making up to do.

As you busy yourself in your home, you see dark clouds gathering through your window. You turn on the local news and it looks like a bad storm is set to ravage your town. You’re nervous. You knew the rainy season could be bad here but the locals often discussed the occasional hurricane-eske storms that tear through. You are unsure how well your home will hold up. You try to secure what you can and get ready to hunker down for a while.

Sure enough, thunder starts to rumble. It’s deep and shakes the earth beneath you. The wind and rain howl outside and you pray your generator holds up. You entertain yourself for a bit, curled up watching a movie, but soon enough the weather is too bad to concentrate on anything else. When an especially loud bout of thunder hits you start to feel panicky. It rattles your windows and you make a point to stay away from them. They rattle so loudly that you almost miss the pounding on your door.

Almost, though. When you realize someone is knocking your heart beats even faster. You pick up the closest thing you could use as a weapon, unsure who could be here. You peek through and see Aegis standing outside, soaked to the bone. You’re relieved that it’s him, but not entirely happy he’s here. You wrench the door open and allow him in, the wind promptly slamming the door back into place. He settles onto a stool and you stay on the opposite side of the room, occupying yourself with looking outside.

“I wanted to make sure you were okay,” he explains, and you nod. “I’m sorry,” he says.

“I didn’t mean to touch it, Aegis. I really didn’t! And you know that and still left,” you manage to get out past the knot in your throat.

“Aye, I know. I made a mistake, I got angry.” His voice gets softer, “I got scared, my sweet girl.”

You sniffle and look away, annoyed at the effect he has on you. He crumbles down your walls one word at a time.

“I was stupid and didn’t know what to do. My sister had to come talk some sense into me.”

“I didn’t think she was your sister,” you mumble and he nods, giving you a watery smile.

“I’m sorry for that, too. After I saw you with that man on the beach I was so angry. She reminded me I had no right to be, I had no claim on you. I didn’t like hearing that,” he says. He stands then, eyes locked on your own.

You are on the other side of the room, backed up against your wall. As if the space between you could stop the pull of your heart. Your eyes are wide and flooded over and you don’t care to hold your tears back anymore. He walks towards you and he holds his sealskin in his hands. The closer he gets to you, the more you can feel your knees buckling. You feel them lock right as Aegis locks an arm around your waist, wrapping his seal skin over your shoulders at the same moment. When the pelt brushes against your skin and envelops you in its warmth, you feel more at peace than you have in days. It is like Aegis’s very being is intertwining around yours. His essence permeates through your skin and curls around your cells, and you relish it and relax into his hold. You knew the sealskin had magic to it but you didn’t realize how much it would affect you.

“What-what are you doing?” you whimper out, making no move to stop him.

“I want you to know I trust you. I want you to trust me too. I know you didn’t mean to hurt me, sweet girl,” he says. “After my tantrum and being away from you, I realized I’d give you my damn sealskin if it meant I could be yours.” He wipes away your stray tears and brushes your hair out of your face, gentling you. “Shhh, I’ve got you. No more crying, not because of me,” he pleads.

“O-okay,” you reply, wobbly and unsure what else to say. The euphoric feeling of his sealskin is still lingering and you know he’s speaking the truth to you.

“My love,” he cooes, “won’t you let me earn your forgiveness?”

You sniffle and nod, stretching toward him for a kiss, a real one. He obliges you, his bearch a scratchy comfort to your flushed skin, grounding you. He tastes like salt and wind, his kiss flavored by the sea. It’s chaste but perfect and when lightning strikes and sounds you break away from his lips only to curl further into his arms. A fearful noise escapes you and you bury your face into his neck. His hands rub your back and you take some deep breaths. If your house has lasted this long then it’ll be okay. You’re safe in his arms with his sealskin warm around you.

You pull back, intent on kissing him more thoroughly this time. He is eager too and pulls you flush against him. He pulls you away from the wall and shuffles you onto the couch, not allowing a centimeter space to form between your bodies. You kiss him over and over, soft moans leaving you every time his lips mould to your own. His hands find your skin under your sweater and you are eager for more, burying your own in his hair. .

“Let me lay you down,” he says, “let me show you how much I missed you.”

Heat has gathered between your legs and the tingling of the sealskin on your flesh feels as though it has concentrated itself there. You pinch them together and he notices, pulling a leg over his hip to grind into your center. You whimper into his mouth, his lips pulling into a smile. He strips you of your sweater and makes sure to plant kisses across your birthmark. You lose the rest of your clothes and as his hands wander, so do your own.

You tease his waistband, slowly slipping your hand inside. He rumbles a deep encouraging noise and you take him in hand. His cock is thick and heavy, pulsing in your grasp. It’s bigger than anything you’ve taken before and you aren’t sure that it’ll fit. You tell him as much, looking up at him with wide lust filled eyes.

“It’ll fit sweetheart,” he whispers, his fingers tracing the crease of your labia. “I’ll make sure you’re ready for me.”

He parts your folds and coats his fingers, your legs spreading to give him more room. He dips the tips of his fingers just barely inside of you, becoming familiar with your entrance. You aren’t good at being patient, though, and his cock is so close. You arch and moan, shifting further toward him and presenting yourself only for him to halt your movements. “Don’t tease,” you whimper out, only earning an amused laugh from your selkie.

“Alright then,” he kisses you with a smiling mouth, “no teasing,” he says, promptly thrusting two of his thick digits into you. A surprised moan is torn from your throat and he glides through your walls easily, aided by your arousal. He scissors and curls his fingers in and out, stretching you open for him and spreading around your wetness. His thumb finds you clit and your mouth falls open, making room for his tongue to tangle with your own in a sloppy kiss that makes your cunt tighten.

“Please,” you beg him, “I want you,”

“You beg so pretty,” he relents, fingers retreating after a final movement.

He places himself between your legs, bending to kiss you again as he does. He kisses your cheek too before rising back up. He presses and rubs himself between your lips, making sure he’s covered in your wetness. His hips stutter when the head of his cock meets your folds but you paw at his shoulders, wordlessly pleading with him to continue. As he splits you apart underneath him a shaky breath leaves his lips. He hilts himself and stays there for a moment, soaking in the feel of your velvet cunt pulsing around him. You tighten around him in an attempt to get him to move. You try to tilt your hips up but he grabs them, forcing them in place.

“Don’t move,” he gasps out, looking strung out above you. His head is tilted back and his eyes are closed. He’s beautiful and all yours. The magic of his pelt connects the two of you on a deeper level that has you feeling floaty and out of control, but the stretch of his cock and feel of his hands ground you.

A whine leaves you and you clench down on him, hoping to spur him into action. “Fuck,” he sputters, pushing even harder into you. You can feel him so deeply and it’s impossible to tell where one of you ends and the other begins.

“Aegis,” you moan out, “move, please.” you cry out, nails digging into him. With a clenched jaw he follows your request. He retreats then pumps into you again, slowly but forcefully. His pace starts slow and he fully hilts himself inside of you each time. Your hips twitch up and the head of his cock notches against a spot inside of you that has your eyes rolling up into your head. He notices and makes a point to angle his hips toward it. Your legs turn to jello as he speeds up, snapping his legs against you. You reach down and rub your clit, Aegis encouraging you.

“You take me so well. Fucking made to be wrapped around me, weren’t you?” he says, “That’s right, take your pleasure,” he whispers, his hot breath on the shell of your ear. His words have a tightness building in your gut, the coil wrapping tighter and tighter until you cry out in release. With you cumming underneath him Aegis can’t hold back any longer. He drives into you with rhythmless thrusts and moans out above you, a high pornographic sound that has aftershocks running through you as he spills inside of you. Little jerks of his hips extend your pleasure as the two of you slowly sink together.

Aegis is twitching and cooing at you as the haze clears from your mind. He wraps his arms and legs around you, the heavy limbs tangling with your own. He nuzzles into you as content as can be. Sweat is cooling on your skin and he covers the two of you with a throw blanket, the storm outside long forgotten. Your face is peppered in kisses as you drift to sleep, his pelt still a comfort underneath you.

#Monster #monster x reader #monster lover #exophilia #exophilia creators #Selkie Boyfriend #selkie #selkie x reader #monster lemon #monster boyfriend #My writing #commission

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morgana-ren · 4 years

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Come Down to the Black Sea III

Summary: The sea seems to call to you, but it’s not the tumultuous clash of the waves you should fear. Something lurks deep beneath the black waters, something sinister with a piqued interest and ill intent.

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Siren!Shigaraki, graphic depictions of violence, heavy sexual innuendo, implied noncon, foul language, sexual tension you can cut with a knife, and just general sexual grossness. Joking daddy kink also, if you count that.

PART I, PART II

Here you go! The third installment. Your seafaring friend finds your hot button and decides to plant some lovely ideas in your brain. Listening to them probably is not the smartest idea in regards to keeping your heart beating, but it certainly gets your thighs clenching.

Taglist: @lemonzoey, @babayaga67

You know, it's really rough to explain to your superiors at work why you're so distracted when it happens to be because a mythical being is giving you the cold shoulder.

You’re not entirely certain why it bothers you so much that your last encounter with him ended rather sour. He had made it perfectly plain from the get-go that his intent with you was far from pure. Murderous, in fact. He had almost drowned you on your first meeting and insulted you incessantly during your second. Not exactly a friendly track record.

Regardless, he’s made a permanent home crawling beneath your human skin, like some itch you can’t scratch away. You can try to justify it however you’d like, but you can’t ignore the truth. In a word full of mundane existence, you’ve found an oddity and as much as you’d like to pretend you aren’t, you’re drawn to it. It’s part of why you returned to the beach despite the clear and present danger. You’d found a living, breathing mermaid. Even more impressive, you’d managed to piss him off.

Mermaid? Is that accurate? He’s so sensitive to being classified wrongly, but still never told you what he was. Considering the circumstances, maybe you should be a little bit more concerned about other things rather than offending him, but it still bothers you.

Your ignorance isn’t due to lack of trying. You’ve done extensive research in the spare moments you have during the day, but nothing quite matches his description no matter how deeply you delve into the weirder parts of the internet, even going so far as to browse around on conspiracy sites on the darknet. Mermaid? Merman? Siren? Fish-guy? Some distantly related offspring to that Ripley’s Believe it or Not monkey fish? Relentless searching proved fruitless. Plenty of old sun-crazed fishermen claim to have seen merfolk in the waters or sirens on the rocks, but more often than not, it was a walrus or stage 4 sea madness. No one had a legitimate account of meeting with a real, intelligent creature of the deep. Nothing that came remotely close to him, anyway.

Despite being unable to focus at your job, getting home only doubles the anxiety. Restlessly sitting and twitching on the sofa, repeatedly trying and failing to read or watch some vapid TV show. You’re unable to keep your mind from returning to the ocean, to him no matter how hard you try.

Over the course of time, you become acutely aware that staying home clearly isn't an option, but you're not really sure what to say to him if you see him again. Why do you even care? Aren't you supposed to be ignoring him? You can excuse your obsessive thoughts about him since most people would have the same reaction to seeing something supernatural not once, but twice in front of their very eyes, but a lot of people wouldn’t continuously return to see it especially if it was malevolent.

You love that preemptively planning what to say to a sentient supernatural sea dweller is a part of your day. That's awesome. Can't look that one up on google.

You’ll compromise with your compulsiveness instead. Go a little early and watch the sun set down over the horizon instead of watching the moon rise. Most parents won't allow their children near your rock because it’s slippery and dangerous, and frankly, you don't think he'll show up when others can see him. He’s deadly, but a mob of terrified parents and curious beach goers has few rivals.

Maybe you can get your fill before he appears. It's better to keep away from him anyway. He wants you dead.

He wants you dead, you remind yourself.

And so you do. Tread the sandy trail down to your favorite little hideyhole and plop down on the hard surface. You kick your feet absentmindedly on the rock beneath you, watching the small particles of sand splay and regather with every motion of your foot. The crash of the waves, still tumultuous and ornery, slap the side of your makeshift perch and splash you with speckles of water every few moments. You don't mind. You needed to shower anyway.

You can't help but feel a bit more lonely than normal, even surrounded by so many more people than you usually are. Flustered moms urge their children in from the shore to wipe them down with towels and flighty young twentysomethings hoot and holler, laughing loudly as they pile into their cars to find their next big spot for the night. The moon rises and the beach empties, leaving you alone again. The ocean settles, and even though it feels better, you feel alone.

You close your eyes, resting your head sideways on your knees with your arms buckled around your legs. You're close to the edge, precariously so. You just want to be close to the water. You should move back.

In. out. in. out. in. out. in. out.

The waves seem to move in line with the beating of your own heart, a tranquil feeling that dulls your restless thoughts and engulfs you in quiet solace. The hum of the ocean resonating deep within you with each breath you take of the briny air.

You're aware enough to recognize that the sound of the sea is luring you into a false sense of comfort. The darkness seeping over the horizon doesn't make it easier, and soon your slowly wandering mind is on the brink of unconsciousness. You're dangerously close to falling asleep, and given the circumstances, that probably isn't the best idea, especially since you're precariously close to the water.

You can't help it, it's been one hell of a week. You haven’t slept. Haven’t relaxed. Haven’t felt at home in so long...

Listen, there's no guide online to look at that can help you through what to do when a malevolent fish-man hybrid has decided he wants to drown you. You can imagine it would say something along the lines of 'Stop going near the water then, dumbass' but that's like asking a religious person to stay away from church. It's the one place where you feel any semblance of peace, and you'll be damned if you're going to let the moonlight water marauder take that from you.

Still, it makes things in your life exponentially more difficult when you can't explain to anyone what's on your mind.

'Yeah, I met a mer...thing, and he's decided that he hates me and he wants to drown me, and that makes me sad. The one supernatural creature I get to meet and he doesn't like me. Bummer.'

They'd probably have you committed. That’s a bit much even for your eccentric proclivities.

Your body occasionally jerks you awake, probably its way of saying 'You cannot sleep when there are enemies nearby', but it feels like it's been weeks since you've had a decent night's sleep. The endless procession of days marked by existential crisis with the tacked on bonus of being aware of the existence of a nefarious fairy tale creature makes everything feel awfully surreal. It feels as if you've been running on pure adrenaline and are about to crash. Hard.

If you were smart, you'd go home and try to bank on the feeling of sleepiness currently plaguing you, but you just can't bring yourself to move. Even barring the flaxen haired fish dude just chomping at the bit to drag you under, napping this close to the sea is a bad idea in general. Tides change rapidly and all it would take is a few minutes of you being unaware for the waves to snag you and haul you off to a watery grave. They'd probably never find you, just like the others who disappear here at night.

But that's probably his doing, isn't it?

What does he do with the bodies exactly?

You really wish he wasn't trying to kill you, cause you have an endless list of questions you'd like to ask. What does he eat? Where does he live? Does he sleep at all?

Musing on all the things you'd like to know about him and his life leads you into fantasizing about being a talk show host interviewing him, and one thing leads to another and before you know it, you're conked out cold. You've managed to find an extremely awkward position to slump into, but even the horrid crick in your neck isn't enough to shake you from the dreamless slumber. Your body doesn't even have the energy needed to produce a dream, so instead, you just float through an endless void.

It could have been minutes, or even hours, really. You're not sure. The only thing strong enough to jar you awake is a sudden and intense feeling of dread that blooms in your stomach and gives you a form and sentience again. Your eyes snap open instinctively, and you're greeted with a pair of spiteful red eyes far too close to you for comfort.

"Jumping jesus-!"

Surprised is a nice word for what you feel, an ugly screech emanating from your throat as you kick out your feet, knocking yourself over and almost falling in the water in the process. You hit your head nice and hard on a particularly jagged portion of the rocks, and by the time your vision undoubles, the danger is just barely settling in.

Except danger is too busy cackling to be a threat.

You try to grapple with the panic in your chest and get a grasp on reality again after your literal rude awakening, but it's a bit rough when the sadistic jackass who perpetuated it in the first place won't stop laughing. Apparently he's too amused to take the opportunity to seize you, so you take the moment to scoot much further back and out of his reach, resisting the urge to plant your foot right on his stupid face.

Eventually he quiets down, but the grin never leaves his face. Much like everything about him, it's hostile somehow, mocking and disingenuous.

"Humans really are so stupid."

"Joke is on you, tunabreath. You wasted the perfect opportunity to actually grab me."

He shakes his head, tutting you. "I couldn’t resist. We like to play with our food too, sometimes. Scared ones taste better."

Is he implying he eats people? Okay, you know what? You don't wanna know. You doubt he'd be honest about it anyway, and would probably say whatever unnerves you the most. He seems a prick like that.

"I thought the entire point was to drown me and get it over with. You’re borderline obsessed with it."

He scoffs, little head fins twitching as he waves you off. "If I’m going to waste my time, don't make it so easy. It's less fun."

Okay cool, this is all a game to him; your life is a game to him. Nice. Fun. Great.

Something on your face must have given away your ire, because he simpers at you and another raspy laugh bubbles in his chest.

"It's not my fault you're stupid. You're the idiot sleeping next to the ocean when you know what's waiting for you when you get too close. It’s like you want me to devour you."

"I thought after your little tantrum last night, you were gone for good. You really can throw a fantastic hissy fit."

That wipes the smile from his face.

“Little brat.” He taps a claw on the rock, narrowing his eyes at you. “Tough talk from someone afraid of getting a little wet.” He drags out the final word with a mocking tone, clicking his tongue against his fangs with the final syllable.

“For the last time, I’m not afraid of getting wet-” It takes it a second to sink in but wow this all sounds so wrong. Your face darkens and a familiar tingle worms itself in your gut. Are you really that lonely? “And don’t say it like that!”

His brows furrow and he studies you with a slightly quizzical expression. “Like what?”

How do you explain to a dude who presumably has no cock and no human sexual experience about the sexual insinuations of human expressions? Wow. This is not a talk you thought you’d be having. The entire situation is weird, but this really sets the bar.

“I know you’re probably not familiar with it, but that sounds... weird. It just sounds weird, okay?”

“I don’t understand.” His lips curl downward in annoyance, arching a pale brow in your direction.

“Look, when a human and another human... do stuff, things happen to their bodies and-“ a twisted sense of shame curdles your stomach and you go to scratch the back of your head, avoiding his eyes. Your words trail off somewhere mid sentence. If you were looking, you could practically see the gears turning in his head, but a few seconds later, his face pops in realization.

“I’m fully aware of your human mating habits.”

“Don’t say it like that either! Jesus, you’re so awkward.”

A slow smile spreads over his face and he leans closer to you, tail swishing in a steady rhythm beneath the water. “Why? You’re over the ‘age of consent’, as it’s put, right? A sexually mature human female? Does it make you uncomfortable when I say things like that? Or does it make you something else?”

He trails his claws in a walking motion towards your out of reach leg, and embarrassment isn’t a strong enough word for the emotion that colors your face as you recoil from his wandering fingers. “Knock it off!”

“Has it been a while since someone touched you, little human?”

“None of your business! You’re such a creep! And what do you know about it anyway? Don’t you fuckin’ lay eggs or something?”

He ignores your pointed jab, licking at his chapped lips as he runs his piercing eyes over you a bit too invasively for your liking. “You wanna know, huh? I can show you.” He reaches towards you again and you wiggle back a few more inches, caught between his words and the friction igniting feelings you’re desperately trying to ignore between your thighs.

“I’m getting mixed signals here. Are you trying to drown me or fuck me?”

“Who says I can’t do both?” He tilts his head, gaze lingering on your lips before drifting down to your chest without shame. His attention still feels utterly predatory, but for a different form of predator entirely. “Your death doesn’t have to be entirely painful, you know.”

“S-stop it.”

He’s giving you whiplash with his intense mood swings, but you can’t deny the less than appropriate places his words drag your mind to. Heat ignites inside you, warmth spreading through your navel as your cheeks burn deeper than they did before. You will it away, trying to shake loose the thoughts from your mind. No fucking way are you even considering this.

“Look, even if our bodies were compatible, which they aren’t, it’s not like you wanting to kill me is a turn on.”

He gives you another lilting grin, flicking his tongue and hissing in a foreign laugh. “Are you sure? I know that some of your kind are into that sort of thing. Hard. Rough. Dangerous. And judging by your face-“

Another bout of blood colors your cheeks so intensely that you can literally feel it. Oh God, make it stop.

“-You might be.”

“Shut it, shark bait!”

“And who’s to say we’re not compatible? I know plenty. Something about the beach is an aphrodisiac to you humans. Not to mention~” Another grin, but this one gives off the undeniable air of ‘I know something you don’t know.’ “You have no idea what I can do.”

You can’t help but look back at him as he says it and you can tell he means every word. The unnatural scarlet glow of his eyes seems far too welcoming, calling to you like some sort of beacon in the darkness. The soft gleam of his silvery hair in the moonlight far too inviting. You want to touch it, wonder what it would feel like entwined between your fingers, what it smells like and how those claws would feel like scratching against the sensitive skin of your ass as he holds you steady against his hips.

You bet those fangs aren’t just for show, and judging by his attitude, he’s probably not afraid to use them. You bet they’d feel all sorts of nice scraping and digging into your flesh, biting you and licking that thick tongue up and over your neck, maybe even a bit lower if you asked him nicely. He’s so lithe, so strong, he’d have no problem fucking you against the rock even with the water resistance. His slick skin rubbing against yours, webbed hands squeezing your waist, kneading your tits, pressing the rounds of your neck until you gave yourself over to him completely and the taste of him is the last thing you ever knew.

Okay, you admit it. You are really curious to see just what it is he can do. You’d probably be the first human in history to find out, the first girl to be fucked to literal death by a siren. Would it really be such a terrible way to die? Being dragged under metaphorically and physically and spending your last moments in pleasure wholly unknown to the moral realm?

He smiles softly, watching you toss it around in your mind as he cradles his head in his palm. He’s beautiful, and you loathe it. You hate that you’re even considering this, even toying with the thought as if it’s really an option. What the hell are you doing? This is complete madness!

“You aren’t serious, are you?”

He gestures you forward seductively, nibbling gently on his scarred bottom lip, keeping your eyes squarely trained on his mouth. “Come a little closer and find out. I promise I bite. Extra hard if you beg.”

Another clench between your legs. Shake it loose, shake it loose! “Look, even if I believed for a split second you wanted to seduce me, you really think I’m going to literally die for the chance?”

“What else are you going to die for?”

Oddly deep. Not a thought you wanted to ponder right now. Expertly deflect it with sarcasm and ignore the fact that he has a very good point.

“Of old age, in my bed, surrounded by loved ones and piles of money I didn’t get the chance to spend yet.”

He scoffs, blowing air through his nose. “Sure.”

“Just what is that supposed to mean?”

He shrugs, shucking aside your irritation. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to.”

“Prick.”

He giggles, finding your crass human mouth oddly endearing. “Well, the offer stands. I told you I’m not going anywhere until you're under the water with me.” He pauses, considering you for a moment before grinning darkly. “I might just do it anyway, but it’s better if you’re willing. Not that I’ve ever been averse to a little struggle.”

“What?”

“It’s hard to say no when you can’t speak. I could easily bypass this little game of playing hard to get, but I want to see you squirm.” He eyes between your legs and you pray to the Gods that he thinks the dampness residing there is because of the watery environment. “I want to see you beg before the light goes out in those pretty eyes.”

“You’re a fucking perv!”

“I told you I’m going to watch you drown, you really put it past me to not take other forms of satisfaction from you while I’m at it?”

He presents a good point. You resent the fact that you don’t entirely feel repulsed by the thought. You should. You should be mortified and terrified and other words that end in ‘fied’. You should run and never come back. You know you should.

You lean forward.

“I’d like to see you try, fish boy.”

A strangely genuine smile spreads across his lips and his face seems to light up at your words. It's still menacing, but oddly cute; like a child getting ready and excited to play their favorite game.

"You really think you can win this, huh?" He muses, looking up at you through those pale lashes. "You sure are something, little girl."

"What do I have to lose? If you win, you kill me, and whatever else, but I won't care, because I'll be dead. If I win, I get to see that arrogant smarminess wiped off your face when you don't get what you want. You'll have wasted all this time for nothing, and I guess that's a small consolation prize alongside my life."

“Time means nothing to me, but if it makes you feel better about the situation.”

From the way he says it, you don't deny it. It dawns on you that you really know nothing about his people. Do they age like you? Do they age at all?

“How old are you?”

"Older than you by far, I promise. What a rude question. How old are you?"

“Old enough. But that doesn’t answer my question. Don’t deflect.”

"No manners, you humans." He ponders it for a minute. "You count the passing of time in revolutions around the sun, right? I'd bet I had been an adult for a very long time while you were still learning to walk on wobbly little legs."

It's your turn to laugh now, and he doesn't seem amused. "You're an old man! Ew! You're an interspecies cradle robber!"

"I'm not old! We live exponentially longer than you! I'll still be in my prime when you're an elder!" His pallid face is dusted slightly red in frustration, and it's almost funnier than his reaction.

"Whatever you say, grandpa! Do you have an undersea walker? Drink sea prune juice? Is that why your hair is silver? Cause you're old?"

Self consciously, he strokes the front of his long bangs between his fingers. "No! You're an immature little brat!"

"Back in my day~" You barely dodge a swipe from one of his claws as he jumps as far forward as he can and swings at you. "Careful gramps, you don't wanna hurt yourself. You’ll break a hip or whatever it is you have."

He sneers at you and you bask in the minor victory.

You sit in silence; him with a scowl tightly pulled across his thin lips, and you with a smug little grin. So it’s not impossible to get under his scales.

He’s a world class pouter, you’ll give him that. He doesn’t strike you as vain, but this is probably uncharted territory for him; actually talking to a human and subsequently being made fun of for his age. He’s probably not used to being mocked in any sense of the word, seeing as he’s a ‘non existent’ mythical creature. Maybe his kind are prideful, if a little childish. He claims to have existed for ages, but he still has the mannerisms you’d attribute to a male around your age. Maybe a tad immature and explosive himself. You guess some things don’t change with the species. Aggression, domination, and sex. And murder, in his case.

Some things are universal, it seems.

He’s making a show of ignoring you now, clicking his claws together in a subconscious attempt to threaten you. They are awfully sharp. You swear looking at them makes the gashes on your arm start to ache all over again. Occasionally the fins on the side of his head twitch in an almost catlike manner, turning toward whatever source of sound can be heard. It’s so strange to you, you can’t help but stare. He looks ethereal, even as impudent as he’s acting. With the backdrop of the ocean and the moon behind him, he looks like a painting that belongs in a gallery. You can’t stop yourself from leering at him.

You’re trying to ignore the fact that he definitely takes notice.

He's angry at you, displeasure still slightly evident in his face, but a small smile crooks his lips. You've clearly offended him but your leering goes a little way towards soothing the hairs you've rubbed the wrong way. For whatever reason, knowing you find him attractive puffs his feathers- er, scales- with pride. Body language relaxes between the two of you and a few minutes of quiet follows.

Yet, it's difficult to keep a pleasant silence when the company you keep is far from familiar. This isn't two friends relaxing on a beach; at least unless most friends are malevolent ocean dwelling creatures with an end goal of filling the other's lung with sea water.

The lack of noise makes you antsy, almost like you're anticipating something but you're unsure of what. It feels false somehow, like you're trying to turn this isn't something it isn't; comfortable. No matter how his casual demeanor tries to lull you into a false sense of security, you have to remain vigilant. One little slip and he'll drag you into a watery grave- among other things if he was serious.

“So… What do you eat?”

He slow blinks at you a few times before grinning, light glinting off his all-too-sharp fangs. “You mean besides you?”

There’s multiple implications to that, neither one of which you want to ponder for various reasons. Your panties are already uncomfortably damp.

“Yes. Besides us.”

Shrugging, he flicks at a small pebble on the rocks edge and plunks it into the water. "Same thing you would if you were one of us. There's plenty of fish down here, only difference is I can eat them raw."

Your nose crumples and you stick your tongue out slightly, imagining him taking a bite out of a still-twitching fish. "Ew."

He rolls his eyes, brushing your obvious disgust aside. "If I recall, don't you humans have multiple dishes you eat raw?"

"Well, I mean, yeah, but it's different. We actually prepare it."

"Sounds like a whole lot of fuss over nothing. Your weak stomach just can't handle it and mine can, and you seem to find that to be some sort of bragging point. Also, don't you humans have a tendency to put things in your mouth that don't belong there?"

“Didn’t I already tell you to shut up about that?”

"I don't know, I'd say the occasional raw fish is a lot less dirty than a human male c-"

“Oh my god! I am so sorry I fucking asked!”

He cackles loudly and you realize that he's officially found your hot button. Even worse is he knows it. "I mean that's not to say we don't have our own filthy habits, but you guys are inspiring-"

"Dude! Make like a tunafish and can it! I don't want to hear any of this!"

"Oh? Is that so? Because around 10 minutes ago, you were half ready to rip your clothes off and jump in here and let me try you even if it meant your death."

"Momentary lapse in judgement. Don't get too excited, grandpa."

He frowns again but seems less offended now that the initial moment had passed. "If you insist upon calling me a nickname pertaining to my age, I'd prefer daddy."

All humor drops from your face. How the fuck does he even know about that?

As if he can read your mind, he responds. "A lot of you humans like to reproduce here. I've seen quite a bit and heard even more. Like I said, you’re absolutely filthy creatures.”

“Ah. Yeah. That makes sense.”

“My offer stands. Come a little closer and I’ll show you just what I learned.”

“Creep.”

“That makes two of us, now doesn’t it?”

"I'm not the one bringing up sex every 3 seconds."

Hey, do you know how awkward it is to be having this conversation? With him? Right now? Do you know how utterly surreal this is?

“No, but you’re thinking about it, aren’t you?”

Your cheeks burn and you know it doesn't matter what you say. Your face is a dead giveaway. He knows it too, crossing his arm and arching a cocky brow at you.

“And I’m the pervert, huh?”

You wrap your arms around your legs again in a subconscious show of defense. "Yes, you are. This is a natural response to embarrassing topics. Topics you keep coming back to."

He shrugs again, his head fins twitching a few times. "I don't deny my nature. If I feel lustful, I act on it. Another reason you humans are inferior. You deny what comes naturally in the name of some form of... shame, is it? I have no bonds holding me back, while yours are pointless and dictated by some invisible and shallow form of ‘morality’ and ‘purity."

He’s… technically right. Still.

"You realize you're saying this to the person you're trying to kill, right?"

"I'm aware. Consider it a parting gift. You can feel what it's like to be untethered before I end you."

You roll your eyes so deeply that you’re almost certain you’ve detached the retina. “Oh, how very kind of you. So thoughtful.”

"It’s not entirely altruistic, but it's better than I was originally planning. I was just going to rip you apart the second I pulled you in. Of course, that was before I got a good look at you. It'd be a shame to waste such a pretty thing without getting a taste first.”

It's a twisted compliment, but you appreciate it, at least as much as the circumstances allow.

“Thanks… I think?”

"It's a good thing, I promise. I won't just touch anyone, you know. Most of your kind repulses me. I'm not an easy please."

"Oh." Another awkward silence. "What makes me so special, anyways?"

His face blanks over, eyes hardening and mouth pursing in a tight line. He opens his lips a few times to speak, but seemingly stops himself. His expression flashes confusion, then rage, then apathy in quick succession. "I don't know. It won't matter for long anyways, soon you'll be dead and I can move on."

“Not if I win.”

"You won't. I don't lose. Besides, I've already almost gotten you twice. It's only a matter of time before you slip up again, and I'll be there to catch you when you do."

"Put it like that and it almost sounds sweet." A smile tugs at your lips despite yourself.

His face flushes and he looks away from you, expression contorting. “It’s not. Don’t twist my words.”

“Spoilsport. Go eat a mackerel or something. You’re not yourself when you’re hungry. Or maybe you are. Either way, you’re cranky.”

"It's hard not to be cranky when there's a meal right in front of me and I can't indulge."

"Quit threatening to eat me. I get the point, it's just weird.”

His thick tongue flicks out and runs across those glimmering teeth and he just smiles. "Who said anything about eating?"

“Give it a rest.”

He swipes a small amount of water at you with his thumb and forefinger. "Deny it all you'd like, you enjoy the attention."

"Definitely. I love being the first human to be hit on by the world's first mermaid fuckboy."

A hybrid mix of a groan and a growl rumbles from his chest. "I'm not a fucking mermaid!"

"Oh, sorry!" The sarcasm is palpable, and he scowls at you again. You love the fact he doesn't deny the secondary insult. "I meant merman."

"Don't insult me. As if your petty, unimaginative fairytales could even come close."

"You have a tail, you live underwater, and you're half human. Sounds pretty damn close to me."

The look on his face is as if you just forced him to swallow something extraordinarily disgusting. "You have no idea what I'm capable of. And I'm not half human. You're half us."

Now that takes you off guard.

“What did you say? What do you mean?”

"It doesn't matter." He pushes himself away from the rocks, his tail slightly flapping above the surface. "Besides, you were right. I am hungry. I should probably find something to eat for tonight, unless you’ve changed your mind." He doesn’t bother waiting for you to retort before skillfully diving down back beneath the waves.

You want to stop him, but he’s gone before you can think of a creative way to say ‘hell no’. The slight dash of silver hair makes out towards the horizon and before long, he's gone. As always, he leaves you feeling more frustrated than anything.

You want to stay, to enjoy the ocean like you used to before he barged his way into your life, but it all just feels too strange now. He won't return tonight, you know that much.

Heaving yourself off your asleep butt, you begin your bowlegged walk back to civilization, left with nothing but the ache of a cramp in your hips and a strangely heavy feeling in your gut.

#Shigaraki x Reader #Shigaraki Tomura #Come Down to the Black Sea #See warnings up top

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