#its been a while since i had been in a boat. so relaxing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

solar-wing · 6 months

Text

⚣ Five & One 💪🏻

⚣💪🏻 A/N → This is a re-post and, once again, it was inspired by this post by @gone-batty-fics. I'm leaving the full NSFW version up here since it's not that much, so no need for an extra link. I hope you guys enjoy reading this around a second time and sorry if any of you have been missing it. This was my most popular post on my previous account and I'm sad I gotta start it over, but oh well. WARNINGS: Breathplay/Choking, Implied Size Kink, Jealous and Possessive Behavior, Rough Anal, Violence, etc.

⚣💪🏻 Summary → Five times people thought you needed rescuing from your boyfriend, Jason Todd. And the one time, someone needed rescuing from you.

⚣💪🏻 Words → 7.8k

REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

Also, vote in my Omegaverse/Yandere poll here!

⚣ ENJOY 💪🏻

Okay, you got it.

Your boyfriend was a very intimidating and scary guy when he wanted to be. But, that didn’t mean people had to keep asking you if you needed saving like you were some damsel in distress. You weren’t even a damsel! You were a damsmen. Damsman? A Damson?

Oh, forget it. Point still stands, people needed to stop treating you like you needed rescuing. You were fine! Besides, when he wasn’t out hunting criminals, Jason was literally the least threatening person in the world. It was you bitches should be worried about! And if bitches didn’t believe you, bitches could just find out on their own.

Bitch.

The first time wasn’t bad. You considered it actually sweet and could see how under the circumstances someone was not aware of the dynamic between you and the vigilante.

It was a sunny day in Gotham for once. Everyone was out, enjoying the sunshine while having barbecues in the parks, strolling down the street in sunhats and sandals, and going swimming at the local pools. You were no different, seeing the usual moody and depressing atmosphere absent from the sky and deciding immediately to take advantage of it and drag your boyfriend Jason out, making the whole day a date between you two.

You and Jason decided on simple outfits since the sun was out and the temperatures were warmer than usual. You decided on a regular button-up, leaving the top three buttons down to show some skin, which your boyfriend both loved and hated since he could ogle your chest with no shame, but anyone else could do the same. You paired it with some boat shoes and simple shorts that did an excellent job hugging your ‘boo-twah,’ a nickname Jason gave your ass for its large-hand-friendly size, as he liked to say.

“Instead of like boo-tee, it’s boo-TWAH. It’s just out there.” He explained one morning when you had spent the night at his place. Jason, sitting and ogling at his boyfriend in his well-fitted yoga pants and sleeveless hoodie while you made breakfast.

“You are such a nerd.” You laughed at him.

“Well, this nerd scored big,” He responded before landing a heavy smack on your behind, which you chastised him for since he made you almost fling the eggs you were scrambling out of the pan.

Back to the sunny day, Jason dressed simply too but was more relaxed than you. He went for a comfortable pair of joggers, one of his nicer gym shoes, and a tank top covered by a sleeveless hoodie since he got hot easily.

A few months after you and Jason got together, he told you about his double life and his family’s. It explained why when he would spend the night at your house a few times, you’d play doctor while wondering where he was getting all these bruises and wounds. As you and Jason grew closer and began to explore your ‘interest’ in each other’s bodies, you’d find he was actually shy about his body even though the man was built like a tank.

It wasn’t necessarily his body he was ashamed of. It was his scars he actually didn’t like. All things he saw as painful reminders of his more than rough past, especially the bigger ones he had received from Joker. You were patient with him and reminded him at every possible chance that his scars were nothing to be ashamed of. Instead, they were to be celebrated and seen as trophies. Reminders that in the face of everything thrown at him, he came out on top stronger than ever.

Over time, Jason became more confident and comfortable in his body. He bought more shirts, tank tops, and shorts that showed his arms, chest, and legs. Even going as far as cutting the sleeves off some of his hoodies since you owned many pairs, and he loved how they looked on you. He’d prefer to wear yours, but since you were much smaller than him, he’d end up stretching or ripping them. Now, you were no dainty stick or anything like that. You had some meat on your bones and were taller than the average guy. But again, Jason is built like a tank and very much dwarfed you in size.

You weren’t complaining.

He also loved the benefit of the sleeveless hoodies as they made him look more intimidating, which helped whenever he noticed other guys and girls at the gym ogling you a little too long for his liking. He didn’t care who it was, Jason would always look out for and protect you.

Yet, others seemed to see it differently as you walked down the street in Gotham, going in and out of the various stores. You were both sipping on some slushies while chatting about whatever, Jason holding your shopping bags in one hand. You tried to snatch the bags from him multiple times since you didn’t want to feel like Jason was your butler or servant. Besides, you worked out too. Look at your arms! You could carry Jason if you wanted to.

Okay, yes, you knew that was a lie but you were allowed to dream. You’d get there…someday.

“Jason, give me my bag. I can carry it myself!” You said, trying to reach for the bag again.

“Sorry, Bugs, you know the rules. You’re not allowed to carry anything in my presence. Well, except my love for you. That’s heavy enough as it is.” Jason said with a cheeky smile.

You rolled your eyes at your boyfriend’s corny behavior and another one of his nicknames for you. You’d made the mistake of bringing Jason around your best friend during a study session for one of your classes. He revealed your childhood obsession with Looney Tunes and how many times when you reacted to a situation, you were a carbon copy of Bugs Bunny with his sarcasm and behavior.

“Get away from me dude,” You said, putting distance between yourself and the brick wall of a man.

“Ah, get back here.”

Jason grabbed you by your waist and pulled you to his side, nuzzling his face into your neck while tickling your sides.

“Jason, stop!” You shouted in laughter, trying to push him away.

“Never! You are now my hostage.” He joked back with you.

You stood there for a few more seconds wrestling with each other on the sidewalk. Someone should really scold you two for acting so cutesy and loving out and public like that. WE GET IT! You’re in love! Stop rubbing it in our faces.

When you broke apart, you found yourselves outside a bookstore. You saw Jason’s eyes light up even if his face didn’t show it. He turned towards you, giving you his best puppy-dog eyes and pout.

“Oh, get in there you dork. But, don’t max out your dad’s credit card!” You said, successfully pushing him off you.

He leaned down to plant a kiss on your lips before shooting into the store like the Flash. “No promises!” He yelled over his shoulder.

While he was in the store living out his childhood fantasy, you decided to let your ankles rest since you had been on them for a few hours. Jason offered to carry you at one point, and though it was tempting, you declined.

You sat on a nearby bench while scrolling on your phone for a bit. Your head shot up when you spotted someone approaching you from the street. It was two girls, both who looked to be in their late 20s to early 30s, carrying concerned looks on their faces.

“Hi!” You spoke with a smile, waving to the women walking up to you.

“Hey, are you okay?” One of them asked when they got to you.

Now, you had a confused expression on yours.

“I’m sorry?” You responded with a puzzled eyebrow raised.

“We were across the street when we saw that guy grabbing you. We can walk with you to the police station if he’s harassing you.” The other woman said.

‘Were these chicks on crack?’ You thought.

“Um, I think there’s been some confusion–” You started but was interrupted by the door swinging open, an excited Jason springing out of the store.

“BABE! THEY’VE GOT A MINT-CONDITIONED PRIDE & PREJUDICE! Can I get it?! Please!!!” Jason shouted while running up to you and grabbing you by your arms.

You could barely keep off the amused smile on your face while looking around your boyfriend’s shoulder to see the two girls looking shocked and embarrassed by your giant for a boyfriend, begging you for a book like a kid.

Jason turned around as well, seeing the two women staring at you two while he just pulled you closer to his body, wrapping his arms around you.

“Who are your friends, Bugs?”

“Just some nice girls being friendly,” You answered before using your hand to turn Jason’s head back toward you. “Don’t you already have three copies at home, Jason? Why do you need another?”

“Okay, but those are all old copies and are falling apart. This one is BRAND NEW! Never been opened. Please!!!”

You could only sigh at his antics before turning back to the girls, “I’m fine, ladies. But, thank you for asking.”

They both nodded with embarrassment before walking off down the street, Jason watching them with a confused expression before looking down at you.

“What was that about?”

“Don’t worry about it.

This one also wasn’t so bad, but it was still annoying.

Your parents were out of town for a month for their anniversary, so you invited Jason over. When he got there and saw how your cupboards and fridge were damn near empty, he was upset at you for not telling him you had no food and your parents for not supplying you with anything.

Truth be told, they literally just forgot to go before they left. Jason always wondered where you got your forgetfulness from. Now, he knew.

So, he dragged you to your local wholesale store once again with his adoptive father’s credit card to stock and load your cabinets so you wouldn’t go hungry. Well, really so, Jason wouldn’t go hungry since he would be spending a lot of time at your place now. Again, the man was like a mountain, so of course, he ate like one.

You had been in the store for about 15 minutes, and already your cart was damn near half-full.

“Jay, don’t you think this is enough? We don’t have to get a bunch of stuff today.” You voiced, eyeing the growing basket with concern.

“Bugs, you can’t stay in your house for a month and not have any food. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I let you go hungry?” He responded while grabbing four boxes of your favorite cereal brands off the shelf and placing them neatly in the basket.

If it’s one thing that shocked you to learn about Jason was that he was very clean and organized with anything. You expected that trait more out of his brothers like Tim or Damian. But in truth, Tim was more of an organized chaos type of guy, and Damian was very simplistic, so he didn’t really need to organize much, except for his drawings and paintings, which he sometimes left scattered all over his desk.

Dick was a mess that couldn’t be saved. God bless the soul that ended up with that man.

But Jason was the cleanest out of all of them. The man could barely go two days without scrubbing down or re-organizing something. Again, you weren’t complaining. Every time he came over, he’d clean your room without you even asking.

“Okay, but my parents did leave me money to order out. Plus, I don’t want Bruce thinking I’m using you for money, or anything like that, especially since you keep taking his credit card.” You pointed out to which your boyfriend scoffed in response.

“Please, as much as that man has put me through, maxing out his credit card is the last thing he’s worried about me doing. And don’t worry, he and the rest of the family love you. Honestly, if it wasn’t for you dating me and the fact that you have great parents, I wouldn’t be surprised if the old man didn’t try to adopt you, which, if I haven’t mentioned this already, I don’t recommend.” He finished while heading further down the breakfast food aisle and grabbing boxes of Pop-Tarts.

“Fourth time.” You stated. Jason does not hold back regarding his tense relationship with his adoptive parent.

That was something you’d also been watching him work on.

When Jason met your parents and saw the relationship between your father and you, it opened up an emotional wound he wasn’t prepared for. And though he still had some resentment toward the Billionaire Playboy, aka the Dark Knight, for not sending Joker to the seventh ring of hell after his death, it didn’t mean he didn’t still care for and love the man. He just had mental blocks he needed to work through, and you’d be there to support him.

Jason was about to give you one of his dorky responses until he realized he forgot the credit card in your car.

“Shoot, I forgot the card in the car. Where’re your keys?” He asked.

You handed them to him, and he gave you a quick kiss and a slap on the ass with a warning to not put anything back before rushing towards the entrance/exit of the store. Rolling your eyes, you moved down the aisle scoffing at his warning. Of course, he knew you were going to try and put some of the items back. Just like you knew him better than himself sometimes, it was the same for him with you. He could predict your next move before it popped into your head which you found very cute but extremely annoying at times.

While you stood there for a few moments scrolling on your phone out of boredom, you heard a voice speak up behind you.

“Excuse me.”

You turned around to see two guys around your age standing behind you. You figured they were trying to get to something behind you, so you moved yourself and your cart out of the way.

“Oh, my bad. Here ya go.”

“No, no! Not that. We were just wondering if you needed help getting your car or getting away from that guy. We saw him drag you in here.”

You barely held back the eye roll that was itching in your skull. Yes, Jason did somewhat have to drag you into the store since you insisted that you didn’t need to go grocery shopping. But, what happened to common sense? If Jason truly was holding you hostage or had bad intentions for you, why in the world would he bring you to a grocery store out of all places?!

Seriously, what were they thinking? That he was going to stick a Fruit-Loops box over your head and torture you with your most hated juice flavor?

A small sigh escaped your mouth before you responded to the boys, “Okay, this is not what it looks like. That guy is my boyfriend, and we’re just grocery shopping. I promise I’m fine.” You assured the guys.

“Are you sure? He isn’t forcing you to say any of this, right? I know that guy’s intimidating, but we can call security or the police to help you.”

Before you could respond, you both heard the sounds of quick footsteps approaching from around the corner. You turned to see him holding a plate with two large slices of pepperoni pizza and a large orange soda.

“Babe, I got you two slices of pizza and your favorite soda from the food court. I know you haven’t eaten today, so I figured you could snack on this, and then we can get you some chicken tenders and fries from your favorite restaurant after we leave here.” He offered while handing you the plate, looking at you with the most adoring gaze.

This boy really did have your whole heart. You could only wonder what you did to deserve someone like him.

When Jason took note of the two other guys standing by you looking dumbfounded, his arm instantly found its way around your waist, pulling you into his side while eyeing the two boys suspiciously and on guard. Anyone that wasn’t your parents, best friend, or his family, Jason saw as a potential threat. Even his family sometimes was included in that list a few times, and living in Gotham, you could never be too careful.

And any excuse for Jason to show you as his to anyone else watching was always an appreciated opportunity.

“Can I help you, fellas?” Jason said, a stern tone in his voice while eyeing the two down with every menacing look he could muster in his eyes.

You’ve never seen two guys who looked like they wanted to shit their pants so bad and run in the opposite direction. They started stuttering out a response before you took pity on them.

“They’re fine, Jay. They were just trying to grab some cereal behind me. I was just moving out of their way.” You threw a look toward the boys, who looked at you confused before they caught on to what you were trying to say.

“Y-Yeah m-man. Just ... um gra-grabbing some Frosted flakes.” One of the dudes said, pointing his fingers toward the boxes right behind you.

Jason eyed that finger with malice before he felt your fingers turning his face toward you.

“Hey, stop it. I’m good. Now, are you going to let them get their cereal and let me eat my pizza before it gets cold?”

A small smile crossed his face while he backed you both up moving the cart as well. You ruffled his hair watching the two boys grab a box and run down the aisle with their tails between their legs. He let out his usual whine, using his other arm to fix his hair.

“Shut up, you big baby. You promised me chicken tenders and fries, so get a move on before I get a food attitude.”

Jason smirked at your words before the hand around your waist moved to your butt, palming and squeezing your cheeks under the ‘hoochie’ shorts you were wearing.

“I know something better that’ll fill you up and take care of that attitude for you.” He whispered in your ear before giving a nip.

At least you weren’t in front of the salads when this was happening.

This wasn’t bad. It was actually funny, and you got a friend out of it.

You and Jason were at the gym, getting a workout in. You decided you both liked going in the afternoon when it was less busy. It was leg and glutes day for you (per usual) while Jason was working chest and shoulders.

Two of your favorite body parts on him, including his arms, but that’s not important.

Now, you both agreed when you went to the gym that you would do your workouts separately but your warm-ups and cardio together. So, at some point, Jason was on the Smith machine doing a shoulder bench press while you were on another bench doing Bulgarian split squats.

Of course, the gym was a place where people met each other all the time. And, in many of those meetings and interactions, people would find others attractive and want to date or hook up with them. You were no exception to these rules. You were approached many times by both girls and guys, but you always politely declined. Well, you tried at least before Jason walked over and made it clear who you were with.

It was no secret to anyone that Jason did not only get easily jealous at the thought of you giving your attention and time away to someone who was not him, but he was also the living definition of anger issues. Match that with his very selfish and possessive attitude towards you, and you had a man ready and WILLING to do just about anything to anyone who dared lay a finger on you in the wrong way.

So, whenever someone deemed themselves stupid brave enough to approach you and flirt a little or leave a teasing touch to one of your arms, you’d try to give them a warning but it was always too late. They’d quickly find a towering shadow looming over them and turned to see a less than pleased Jason staring down at them with his bulging arms crossed over his chest. These being one of the few moments Jason gladly showed off his scars because they communicated his message quickly and effectively.

Back. The. Fuck. Off.

That was usually enough to get them to do just that. Most of the time, at least.

There always ended up being at least one guy or girl who wouldn’t take no for an answer. This time, it was a guy who kept finding himself next to you during your sets. Jason was watching you from afar with hooded and irritated eyes as he also noticed your gym shadow moving around with you.

The guy decided to play smart and keep his hands off you since he could tell your brute of a boyfriend was watching his every move. The only reason he didn’t do anything was because he knew if he did, the guy could claim Jason as the aggressor, and since this was your favorite gym because your college’s gym was always crowded, he didn’t want to risk you getting in trouble and banned.

So, when Jason went to the bathroom, the creep took advantage of the moment and offered to ‘spot’ you on your set of squats with the smith machine, which you were sure was just an excuse for him to get behind you so he could ogle your ass and ‘accidentally’ grind his dirty crotch into it.

Luckily, a girl working out nearby noticed your uncomfortable stance when the man came over to ‘help’ you while you were setting up and immediately stopped her workout to shoo him away.

“Dude, he’s clearly not interested. So either go and finish your workout or pack up and get out!”

He tried to get defensive and argue with her, but when she revealed her boyfriend was one of the owners and threatened to have him kicked out and banned, he finally backed off. He made sure to point out how you weren’t even all the hot anyway to mask his hurt pride while you threw an appreciative look toward her.

When he left and Jason returned from the bathroom, the girl unleashed her rage on him as well.

“And you too! I’ve seen you harassing and stalking him all over the gym. I’ll kick your ass out too and have you banned if you don’t leave him alone.” She scolded the dark-haired man.

Jason looked confused while you just laughed before grabbing his arm and pulling him to you, “Nah, don’t worry about him. This one’s good.” You said, reaching up to ruffle his hair, even though you had to stretch a little bit.

Jason pouted down at you in childish anger, “I told you don’t do that! Do you know how long it takes to get this in the right floppy position?” He whined while trying to fix his hair.

She looked back and forth between you two before realization dawned upon her.

“Boyfriend who’s a menace to everyone but is a total baby when around you?”

You gasped, “Girl, how’d you know?”

“Mine’s the exact same.”

“Oh, we’re gonna be great friends.” You declared.

Okay, this time, it was lowkey your fault, but still. People should be able to tell the difference between an actual cry for help and a joke.

Jason decided to take you to one of his favorite cafes in Gotham since you were in desperate need of a study break. You picked up some classes over the summer, so the schedule was much more tightly packed since they had to speed up a four-month course into two with the semester being divided into two sections.

Jason was sitting on one of the lounge chairs reading while you were sipping on some apple juice and reading a fanfic story on your phone. Whether or not it was smut was not important and nobody would be able to tell by the look on your face. At least until you read over one particular part that had you gasping out loud which managed to catch your boyfriend’s attention.

“What?”

“Nothing.” You quickly said, liking the fic quickly and closing the browser, knowing Jason was not going to drop it.

“Uh uh, Bugs. What were you looking at?” He asked, setting his book on the table and moving over to your side of the table.

“Nothing Jay! I promise it was nothing.”

“Oh really? So you wouldn’t mind if I looked at your phone then?”

You felt your cheeks heat up while Jason took notice of your tense stance, peering at you and your phone while slowly leaning toward you from his crouched stance.

“Let me see your phone.”

“No.”

“Give me your phone.”

“I said no.”

“Bugs,” Jason said, now mocking a stern look on his face, “Give. Me. Your. Phone.”

He held out his hand for emphasis, and you felt your fingers reflexively tighten around your smart device. You stared back at him with your own dour expression, “No. Means. No.”

You both stared into each other’s eyes for a moment before he suddenly grabbed at your phone, attempting to snatch it from your hand. It became a tug-of-war over the device while you both consciously tried not to be too much of a disturbance to the other patrons of the cafe.

This is where it accidentally was your fault.

“Help! Assault! Violence! Thief!”

You thought you were shouting it quietly, but there was a reason your family always told you to quiet down when you thought you were speaking at a normal volume. You got it from your mother really. Strong voices and all…

“Dude, fucking back off!”

You both heard the deep voice shout before you watched a guy tackle Jason to the ground, feeling hands coming to your side.

“Oh my god, are you okay?!” This random brunette said while checking you over to make sure you weren’t hurt.

You were FINE. However, you were worried as hell now. Not for Jason at all, cause… Well, ya know.

You were scared for the other guy that had tackled Jason. Your boyfriend did NOT do well with physical touch, considering how long it took him to get comfortable with just cuddling with you. Let alone sudden physical touch? And the man is used to fighting criminals at night and having to be on guard 24/7 if he feels something suddenly grab or touch him? Yeah, you were hoping this didn’t end in a trip to the precinct like last time.

Don’t ask.

“I’m fine. But, I do suggest you quickly get your friend off my boyfriend before he has to go to the hospital.” You assured the girl while warning her at the same time.

She looked at you confused, “Boyfriend? Wait, huh? We thought that guy was attacking you and trying to steal your phone. And don’t worry, my boyfriend’s a professional kickboxer. He can handle him.”

‘Yeah. Mine has anger issues and was trained by Batman and can re-load two guns in under twenty seconds with his arms tied behind his back.’

“AH!”

You both turned your heads to see Jason holding the other guy in a chokehold while looking up at you.

“Aww, man! He spilled my coffee over my book.” Jason whined, “Babe, can you get me another one, please?”

“Yes, Jason. Can you do me a favor and let him go before you break his neck?”

Jason rolled his eyes before releasing the guy, who went into a coughing fit on the ground as he caught his breath.

When he sat back at the table as the girl went to help her boyfriend off the floor after giving you both weird looks, he set your phone on the surface, eyeing you with a quizzical look.

“What?” You asked after he stared at you for a few more minutes.

“Really? Yandere?”

Your heart jumped in your chest, and you were ready to bolt for the door.

“So, all those times you swore you weren’t trying to make me jealous just to get a reaction outta me, were you actually just trying to get me to tie you up and lock you in my room?” He said with a dark look in his eyes and a cheeky smirk on his lips.

HOT BOY DOWN! I REPEAT, HOT BOY DOWN!

Now, this was just ridiculous. Of course, it made sense, but you were thoroughly pissed off when it happened.

You and Jason had returned to his apartment after having dinner with his family at Wayne Manor. Bruce decided he wanted to have at least one family dinner a month, and since you were considered an honorary Wayne and everyone loved you, of course, you were invited. Jason, on the other hand, was still hesitant.

Even though he was working on his relationship with Bruce and trying to move past his mental scars, his family still brought up some sensitive subjects for him. Typically, they made his insecurities flare up a lot more. You were Jason’s safe space. So, he wasn’t really keen on mixing the things that made him question himself and the person who made him feel the most loved and secure together.

You didn’t push, still wanting to go at his pace and let him bring you around more when he was ready. The day of the dinner, you figured he either had a change of heart or somebody had talked to Jason and convinced him to bring you along, and you had a great time. Jason was a bit quiet throughout the evening, but you could see a small part of him was happy at seeing how you integrated well into his family dynamic. He took great pleasure in how you humbled Dick a few times as well.

But, something was off, but you couldn’t tell what it was. You knew Jason was usually the quieter one out of the rest of his siblings. When you were around, he showed more of his goofiness and playful side. You barely saw that at all tonight. You knew he was watching you as you made conversation with Bruce, argued back and forth with Damian, repeatedly told Tim he needed to get more sleep, snapped photos with Steph, joked with Duke, and even learned a little sign language from Cass.

He watched as you offered to help Alfred with the dishes, who respectfully declined, but did make his appreciation known to you and the others, especially Tim.

“I offer to help you sometimes, Alfred!” Tim shouted while chasing after the butler offering his help.

Usually, Jason would laugh at any moment that came at the expense of Tim’s sanity.

None of that happened.

So, when you got back to his place, you asked him what was wrong. He remained silent as he just looked at you, but you could see there was a storm behind his eyes. When you came up to rub his arm and hug him, his hands shot up to your neck, wrapping around it firmly but not tight to where you couldn’t breathe.

Your hands grabbed his wrists as he maneuvered you against the wall that connected the living room to the kitchen. He placed his lips roughly on yours, forcing his tongue into your mouth while never loosening his hold on your neck.

“Mine. Not theirs, mine.” He muttered against your lips before quickly taking his hands off your neck, ripping your clothes off while ridding himself of his.

In less than two minutes, Jason had you pressed back against the wall, your legs wrapped around his waist, and his long and girthy member tucked deep inside your ass, fucking you with hard and menacing thrusts. His large and rough hands were back around your neck, now squeezing around your neck as you moaned breathlessly against him.

Jason took immense pride in your sounds of satisfaction and whining, increasing his already brutal pace in your guts while slowly stealing more of your breath away. Jason’s hard breaths pounded against your face as he stared at your now sweaty and ragged body, limping weakly against him. You placed your arms on his shoulder but were careful to avoid his neck, knowing that along with some other areas on his body were off-limits unless specified otherwise.

This was the dynamic between you two always. Anyone could see how Jason was wrapped around your finger in public and even in private whenever you two were just lounging around and relaxing. In these moments, you were fully under Jason’s authority. You lay completely at his mercy while he dominated your body and controlled where, when, and how you got pleasured.

The who rarely came into question as though your boyfriend had considered it a few times, you didn’t see a day likely where Jason’s jealousy and possessiveness would let him allow someone else to see you in this manner. No, you were for his eyes only.

And the why, well that was simple. Jason had needs, you had needs. And, no one was better suited to fulfill those needs than your boyfriend. Though with him, anything could spark those needs at any given time. Whether the dark-haired boy was just feeling horny and wanted some ass. You decided to wear a tempting outfit, and he decided he was going to right then and there he would have you, whether in the house, in the car, or in public, it didn’t matter. If he felt you were being a little too friendly with someone else, he’d be happy to remind you about who you belonged to. The why was simple; if Jason wanted you, he would have you. No ifs, and’s, or but’s about it.

“J-Jason... nngh p-please-” You begged, feeling yourself nearing the edge as your dick was crushed between Jason and your hot and sweaty abdomens.

“Say my name again,” He ordered, feeling how he flexed his dick inside you while still pounding your sore hole.

His name fell from your lips in a needy moan as you felt his fingers pressing against your windpipes. You could feel how the wall behind you became slick from your sweat as your body jutted up and down against it with Jason’s increasingly erratic thrusts.

He grunted in approval of your increasingly loud whines as you both approached your climaxes. Jason fully squeezed your neck at this point as he punched your insides with his cock. Your own member was feeling the pressures as well as it repeatedly smashed against Jason’s abs before you reached your end, screaming out in blissful agony.

Jason came to his finish with his own groan as you felt him bury himself with his cum deep inside you. You let out soft little whines feeling his appendage throb against your walls. Even though you knew he didn’t like hands around his neck, he didn’t object to you rubbing a hand down his nape. He gave you a warning glance at first, but when he felt your soft hands rubbing up and down his skin, he visibly relaxed, placing a kiss on your cheek.

The quiet and sweet moment though was abruptly ruined by the sound of Jason’s front door being kicked in and heavy boots rushing into his apartment.

“GOTHAM P.D.!” You heard the intruders shout.

Of all the fucking things…

Well, when the cops came around and found you and your naked boyfriend against the wall, and his hands around your neck, you had to admit it didn’t look good.

You had to quickly explain to the officers it wasn’t what it looked like and that everything was consensual. Against the orders of the cops, Jason did not move one inch off the wall, keeping your body covered with his. He’d sooner dip himself in another Lazarus Pit than let these arrogant blue caps have even the smallest peek at you.

So, with a little charm and finesse, you convinced the cops to walk out and let you and him get dressed. Jason couldn’t decide what he was more upset about.

The fact that his door was off its hinges, or that one of his neighbors called the cops on him thinking Jason had been abusing you, or that your private moment was intruded upon and some pervy cops basically saw you naked.

Yeah, he was going to be extra brutal on patrol tonight.

After a call was made to Commonionser Gordon at Jason’s request, the cops dropped everything and left you two alone when Gordon made it clear this was a bogus call. “Jason? Abusing Y/N? That boy is the biggest simp this city’s ever seen. Whoever called that in was obviously misinformed.”

Even if it was true, Jason didn’t appreciate being called a simp. He didn’t deny it, though.

You could barely hold back your laughs to which your boyfriend responded with a harsh smack to your very sore ass. It was a wonder how you were even standing on your legs as they still felt like jelly.

“I’m sorry, but I just can’t see him in that manner.”

“No way, he’s way too sweet and innocent to be like that.”

“Dude, have you met your own boyfriend?”

These were all things said to Jason when he would complain to them about how he was tired of everyone thinking he was a threat to you and not seeing the truth. If anything, you were more of a threat to Jason and honestly, should be placed on a national security watch list for some of the things that have come out of your mouth.

The only one who really knew and understood what Jason was talking about was your best friend, who was the first one to warn Jason. The boy didn’t believe him either at first and ended up finding out the hard way.

Well, it looked like Jason’s brothers were also about to find out as they had come to your school’s campus looking for him. You were happy to see the Wayne siblings, as some time had passed since the last dinner. For some reason, seeing how easily you interacted with his brothers drove up Jason’s jealousy to a new level. As soon as they showed up, Jason placed you on his lap, and you could feel his prominent bulge throbbing under you. You knew immediately you were in for it when you both got home.

When you got up to go to the bathroom, Jason was going to follow you, intending to give you a little preview of what to expect in the stalls, but was stopped by Dick, who said they had something important they needed to talk to him about.

Before that could happen, a new presence appeared at your table, and your best friend visibly and audibly groaned at who it was.

“Hi there.” Jason heard a sickly sweet voice say, turning to see another boy he’d heard of.

“Xavion.” Jason heard your best friend mutter under his breath.

He knew that name. He’d heard you curse it and mutter it in irritation and anger plenty of times. He purposefully went out of his way to piss you off and pick with you on multiple occasions. He also thought that because his dads were rich and gave him everything he wanted, he was entitled to anything and everything, including other people’s significant others.

No one knew what started the rivalry between you two, but they knew it got cemented when he had sex with your first college boyfriend while you guys were dating and then went on to sleep with any guy you had the slightest attraction to.

So, Jason would be no different when he placed himself a little too close for the dark-haired boy’s liking, trying to maneuver himself away.

“I’ve seen you around on campus before. Are you a student here?”

“Xavion, don’t you have someone else to harass and stalk?” Your best friend commented with an irritated eye roll.

The boy in question only threw a dirty glance at your comrade before turning back to your boyfriend, taking considerable delight in looking him up and down, “Damn, aren’t you a big boy. You’re Y/N’s boyfriend, right? Gotten bored yet?”

Everyone tensed at that, watching how Xavion only got bolder in his flirting, “I’d understand if you did. Y/N’s just not that interesting, and honestly, a little ran through. I’d be happy to show you other options though,” He voiced with a suggestive tone.

Dick, Tim, and Damian watched with slightly nervous eyes as the promiscuous boy moved his hand that was caressing Jason’s arm and placed it around his neck, waiting for the ball to drop as the second Wayne kid's hands began to twitch on the table.

Before anyone could move to stop it, they saw Xavion get literally yanked off of Jason and onto the ground. Your boyfriend and his siblings along with your best friend who began to cheer your name watched as you dragged the slut onto the ground by the back of his shirt and proceeded to WHALE on him.

No one had noticed you coming back from the bathroom, too busy watching Xavion rub his hands all over your boyfriend. When you got closer and saw what was happening, you immediately saw red and picked up your pace, only to dash into a mad sprint when you saw his hand touch Jason’s neck.

Jason after breaking out of his stunned trance immediately ran over to pull you off the screaming boy who was crying for help. Dick and Tim ran over to pull Xavion out of your grasp, just barely managing to save him from what would have been a devastating kick from your boot to his face.

“Touch my boyfriend again and see what happens bitch!” You shouted out at the boy. Luckily, you were in a secluded part of campus, so no one had seen the fight. But, when Xavion had gotten off the ground looking thoroughly fucked up, he tried to run up on you, seeing Jason holding you back and thinking he had an open shot.

Little did he or Jason expect, you used your smaller stature to slip out of Jason’s hold and rushed the boy before kicking your leg up and landing that hit that was taken from you earlier. You took sick satisfaction hearing and feeling the crunch under your foot as it connected with his nose.

Dick, Tim, and Damian watched in complete shock seeing you beat the shit out of this boy. Now, they could really see why you and Jason were such a good match for each other.

When Jason got you back in his arms, he made sure to hold on a little tighter to you so you couldn’t slip away again. Dick and Tim had to help the sobbing boy cradling his broken nose, saying they would take him to the emergency room.

Jason pulled you both back towards the table, sitting you down on his lap as he held your hands down. He could not help how hard he was under you and didn’t care to hide it. Watching that display had him a different level of horny and he frankly couldn’t wait to take you home.

After a few moments passed and you settled down, everyone looked up to the sound of a throat clearing.

“Todd, I don’t know if I ever told you this before,” Damian started, looking at you both with his usual judgemental stare, “...Good job.” He said with a nod toward you.

You were both surprised, Jason especially, as neither of you had ever heard the youngest Robin give out a compliment.

“If you screw this up somehow, which I have little doubt that you’ll find a way, I will not hesitate to end you.”

There was the Damian you both knew.

“I second that motion,” Your best friend added to which you just laughed.

“Shut it, gremlin.” Jason retorted before squeezing you against his body.

“Don’t worry, Damian. I don’t think Jason will do anything to screw this up. Besides, if he does do something stupid, he’ll have me to worry about.” You said, a mischievous twinkle in your eye.

You heard Jason growl lowly against you before grinding you into his lap, letting you feel his hardness poking you through your shorts. You popped his arm to which he responded with a pinch on your ass, your best friend watching in disgusted amusement.

“You two make me sick.”

“Back at you, ugly.” You responded.

Damian turned his head, looking in the direction where Dick and Tim took Xavion to an ER room, “I despise harlots.”

“OH! Speaking of which, thank you, Damian, for reminding me.” You said before leaning over Jason to grab your bag and pull out your laptop.

“What are you doing?” Your boyfriend asked.

“Insurance. I knew the day would come when that hoe went too far. So just in case he decides to go to the university about this little spat, I’m emailing a detailed description of how everything went down, along with photos and evidence of his affairs with various teachers and staff. To them, it will look like Xavion attacked me out of retaliation because he thought I would snitch on him about his sexual misconduct. Now, tell me, babe, did you feel physically violated?” You asked while making various edits to your already drafted email.

“Huh?” Jason replied confused.

“Just say yes.” Your best friend told him with a smirk.

“Um, yes? I think…”

“Perfect! Putting that down for the record, so, if that slut decides to try to get me in trouble, I can show I had completely justifiable reasons to hand him his ass on a concrete platter.” You stated a little too cheerily to be considered not disturbing.

Your best friend was not surprised by this at all, while Damian and Jason looked at you like you had two heads.

“Isn’t the expression ‘silver platter?’” Damian pointed out.

“Yeah, but I dragged his ass up and down on concrete, so it’s a concrete platter today.”

You looked up to see the two Robins staring at you.

“What? Bitches fucked around, so bitches found out. Don’t blame me.” You said while continuing to type.

“I fucking love you,” Jason said while biting at your ear lobe, making you laugh.

Damian could only scoff as he watched you two.

“And people swear Todd’s the threat.”

☀️ | Jason Todd/Red Hood | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

1K notes · View notes

dilemmaontwolegs · 10 months

Note

hey, i've sort of a prompt in mind. The driver has a couple of shitty races and is frustrated and furious. The reader let's him use her so he can relax and take his mind off it. He does so and becomes pretty rough. In the morning, he's the first one to wake up and sees hickeys, red and irritated skin patches on her body. When she wakes up he starts to apologize.

It's probably too short for a fic, so maybe you can insert it in the ones you already have. It's up to you

Afterglow || CS55

Pairing: Carlos Sainz Jr x wife!reader Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, slight angst, roughish smut WC: 1.4k F1 Masterlist

The night had been humid, as it had all week, and your sleep was light and fitful as you tossed and turned in the sheets. Warm hands trailed up your bare legs and you sighed at the touch you had missed while Carlos was away. You suddenly startled awake remembering your husband wasn’t meant to be home yet but he caught you before you could hurt yourself scrambling out of the bed.

“Cálmate, mi reina, it’s me,” Carlos soothed as he felt your racing heart beating against his chest. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

It took a moment to relax but then you returned the embrace, wrapping your arms around his waist while his large hand cradled the back of your head like he did when he needed to keep you close to him. Taking a seat on the bed, he pulled you onto his lap and kissed your forehead as an apology, one you happily accepted.

The sheer curtains swayed gently in front of the windows that had been left open all night to battle the summer heat. Beyond the balcony, the island was hazy in the watery pre-dawn light and the local fishing boats were just starting to make their way out of the bay before the tides changed.“You’re home early.” You pulled back so you could see the exhaustion in his brown eyes and you stroked his beard that he hadn’t trimmed since he left. “What’s wrong, guapo?”

He caught your hand and clutched it to his chest so you could feel his heart beating beneath it before he raised them to his lips to kiss the wedding band on your finger. “I missed you.”

Giving him a small smile, you kissed your way across his shoulder before climbing the thick muscles of his neck. “I missed you too, but that’s not why you look so sad.”

His sigh was heavy and deep, filling the four corners of the room and you pulled back to see his face. “I’m not sad, just disappointed. It was a bad weekend, amor.”

You peeked over at the alarm clock before grabbing the hem of the satin slip you wore to bed. His eyes followed your fingers as they drew the material up your body and he bit his bottom lip at the sight. “There’s still time to change that.”

“Yeah?” he asked as his hands roamed your body, his fingers digging into your skin. “You want to make me feel better, baby?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed but it turned to a gasp as he nipped at your collar before kissing the mark he left. “I’d do anything to make you happy.”

His beard tickled your skin leaving goosebumps in its wake as he made his way down your chest, nipping and sucking the skin until you whimpered his name with need. Shifting on his lap, you rocked your hips in search of friction and felt his own need swelling beneath you.

“Please, Carlos, I missed you.”

He silenced your begging with a rough kiss, his tongue forcing your lips open for him. His fingers were leaving their prints in your skin the way he held your hips tight and it took all his will power to pull away long enough to speak. “On your knees.”

Carlos didn’t even give you a chance to move as he picked you up and put you right where he wanted you in the centre of the bed. The comfortable clothes he wore for travelling were quickly discarded in a heap on the floor before you felt the bed shift under his weight and felt his hand caressing the swell of your ass.

“I needed you with me, hermosa,” he said as he nudged your knees apart for him. “I needed you.” Your back arched as he curled two thick fingers into your cunt without warning, stretching you with the only patience he had before they were gone and his cock pressed to your entrance. “I need you.”

“You have me,” you moaned as he worked his length inside, inch by inch, until your fingers were grasping the blankets and your breaths were mere pants. “I’m yours.”

Carlos pulled you up off your hands so your back was flush against his chest and he reached around to roughly palm your breasts, pinching and squeezing your nipples until your cunt clenched tight around him. “Will you still be mine if I lose my seat?” his voice was low in your ear and you craned your neck to see the resentment in his eyes, something that had been simmering since the negotiations for his contract renewal stalled.

Placing your hand over his, you pushed it down your body to the juncture of your thighs. “Always,” you promised as he felt the union of your bodies. “I married you for love, Carlos, not your job.”

“I might be out of it soon enough,” he spat bitterly and you felt his chest rising and falling rapidly and the heat of his breath on your neck. “Three. Fucking. Races.” His hips snapped against you with every word, stealing the air from your lungs, and you knew there was only one way to ease the anger burning in his gut. “Fuck.”

“It’s okay, baby,” you said as you reached over up and tangled your fingers in his hair, tugging the strands as you gave him permission to use you as a vent for his frustrations. “It’s okay.”

His control snapped as he accepted your offering and you gasped as he gripped your hips hard enough to leave bruises. Carlos had always loved to mark you, though not always this rough. He had liked to leave on his trips knowing that his touch and his kiss still lingered on your skin. You knew there would be a few marks come morning light.

When dawn finally broke you were in Carlos’ arms watching the coastal breeze dance with the curtains and finally bring with it some cool air. The wind was welcome on your hot skin where a thin layer of sweat coated both of your bodies where you lay entangled on the bed. The gulls were just beginning to wake with the day and their songs echoed along the beach in a peaceful lullaby that threatened to send you off to sleep.

“Mierda,” Carlos swore as the sun crested the balcony and bathed the room in its light. You blinked against the bright rays that had interrupted the dream you had almost reached and found your husband shaking his head. “Perdóname, mi amor.”

Your brows pinched in confusion and you looked up from the pillow you had made of his shoulder. “Forgive you for what?”

“This,” he whispered as he dragged a fingertip down your neck, the touch a little tender but not sore. “And this.” You followed the trail he danced along your skin and saw the deep red hickeys his mouth had made, the slight dents around your breast in the shape of his teeth and the light purple bruises of his fingers on your hips. “I’m so sorry, I got carried away.”

“There’s nothing to forgive.” Sitting up, you placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him from leaving. You knew he would go down to the gym and spend the rest of his day there, running until he couldn’t move because he thought he deserved the punishment. “I can take everything you have to give, baby. I want it, I want to be the one who can make you feel better on your worst night. I want to be the one you can let yourself go with.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said after swallowing the lump in his throat.

“You didn’t hurt me,” you said with a smile before leaning down to capture his full lips that were begging to be kissed. “It was quite the opposite.”

“Yeah?” he asked as his eyes traced your curves and he saw your nipples begin to peak beneath the heated gaze. You bit your lip and nodded, giggling when he pulled you on top of him. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Carlos, you’re ruining my afterglow,” you murmured as you kissed his jawline and felt the echo of the burn of his short beard between your thighs.

Rolling over, he pinned you beneath his body and you felt his heavy length against your hip as he stared down at you, the love still as strong as the day you wed. And just like that day, he made a vow, “I promise I can fix it.”

#carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x y/n #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz fanfic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction

3K notes · View notes

noramoons · 5 months

Text

what lies beneath | k.hj

pairing: kim hongjoong x g/n reader

genre: siren au, artist!reader

includes: angst, some fluff

rating: T/13+

warnings: language, slight horror themes, mentions/descriptions of food, Family Issues as a plot point (💀)

word count: 13.5k

summary: there’s a pair of eyes blinking up at you from below the pier. you think you know who (or what, really) they belong to—but you might be too afraid to admit it.

You had been sure of several things before you spent the summer at the beach with your cousins.

One, that you were not an "outside" person. You couldn't stand fishing, you hated lying underneath the sun to tan—you could swim well enough, you supposed, to keep yourself afloat—but that was it.

Two, that there was nothing more embarrassing than being a tourist in a town you'd practically grown up in.

And three, that sea monsters of any kind were absolutely, completely, 100% fictional.

It was fun to pretend as a child, sure—you remember plenty of summers playing in the ocean with your friends, or listening to your uncle tell scary stories to you and your siblings about the creatures he'd seen in his time in the navy or deep-sea fishing—but that was it. Pretending. You knew that just as well as the rest of them did.

Which is why it's now somewhat embarrassing to be back here—spending yet another summer with your extended family, and now seeing your younger cousins now running up and down the side of your uncle's small pontoon boat. "Fish-man!" one of them cries out, pointing towards the water. "I saw it! I swear!"

The other one nods. "He was huge!"

Your uncle laughs from the wheel behind you. "I bet he was! I always heard they like to catch the sides of the waves the boats make for speed—can't get too close, though, or they'll get chomped by the propellers!" He makes a chomping gesture by opening and closing his fist, and your cousins giggle.

"You heard?" you ask, turning around from the seat near the bow. "I thought you always said you'd seen those fish-men with your own two eyes back in the day, Uncle."

He smirks at you. "Those were the deep-sea days. I've never seen any creatures this close to shore, but who knows?" he shrugs, winning at you. "Maybe we'll get lucky."

Right. You resist the urge to roll your eyes as you turn back around, the spray of the saltwater coming up on either side refreshing enough to distract you from the stories your cousins are now hurriedly making up behind you.

The rest of the day is decidedly less painful; your uncle is considerate enough to let you stay on the boat when he anchors it on a nearby island, so you're able to at least attempt relaxing while your cousins run amuck on the shore. By the time you're finally pulling back in to the dock behind your uncle's house on the bay, you can already see the hues of pink and orange growing in the sky as the sun begins its descent beneath the horizon.

Your cousins make a mad dash for the house once they're within leaping distance of the dock, and you let out an exasperated sigh when you realize it's just you and your uncle left on the boat. You know exactly what that means—all the work's been left to you.

He grins at you. "You remember how to tie her to the dock, don't you?" As if this hasn't been your job on-and-off for the last ten years.

You offer a faint smile in response, but you keep yourself from saying anything negative while you pull out the ropes from beneath the seats, tying them into the knots you know from memory around the poles on the dock. You don't want to complain in front of your uncle—he's never been anything less than kind to you, especially letting you stay at his house this summer out of nowhere when you told him you needed a place to stay for a while, even when it's been over five years since your last summer here. No questions asked, although you're sure he's curious.

You might tell him the truth. Eventually.

His voice suddenly interrupts the stream of thoughts in your mind. "If you've got it covered, I'm gonna head inside and start on dinner."

You nod absentmindedly, tucking the last rope into the beginning of its knot. "What are we eating?"

He smiles at you. "Guess you'd better hurry up and find out."

You roll your eyes at him, but in your sudden rush to finish the knot, you don't complete it nearly as tightly as you should—and you can already feel the boat drifting to one side from the loose knot.

You sigh at your own impatience, but you start the knot over again anyway, pulling on the other ropes to line the boat up with the side of the dock again before you start, checking the angle into the water to make sure it'll be as close to perfect as possible so you can hurry up and go inside, and it's then that you see it.

There's a face in the water—and it isn't yours.

No. You're seeing things. After a long day in the sun, you know it's not unheard of for your eyes to play tricks on you looking into the water. You draw your focus back to completing the knot, shaking the unusual thoughts out of your head of what you know you couldn't have possibly seen.

When the knot's finally complete, you cast your gaze into the water beside the boat one final time—and you realize, in stunned horror, that you'd been right before. There is a face, a face you can just barely see in the water as you peer over the edge of the dock—and it isn't your reflection. No, the angles of the jawline, the cheekbones, the chin are all far too sharp and precise to be yours. To be human.

He blinks up at you, far too innocently for someone—something that has been holding its breath underwater for at least the past five minutes.

You don't know how long the two of you stare at each other. It could be minutes, hours—you really aren't sure. You're finding yourself practically lost in the eyes of the being before you, dark and abysmal and inviting all at the same time—this, you imagine, must be what drowning feels like. Completely helpless.

It's then that you realize your ankles are touching the water. That's strange—you'd been sitting atop the dock just a moment ago. When did you get in the water?

You feel as if you've just awoken from a dream. You don't know how you've gotten here so suddenly, but you've definitely moved—you've turned around to face the dock, and your arms are the only thing keeping you above the water, your legs submerged up to your knees.

You quickly scramble back out of the water and heave your body back onto the dock, making sure all your limbs are still attached before staring back into the bay beneath you, looking for that face beneath the water again—but it's gone. Whatever it was has completely vanished, leaving nothing but the soft lapping of the waves against the shore in its wake.

Your mind races to find an explanation. You've been in the sun for hours. You must not have had much sleep last night. Your cousins are driving you insane and they've finally pushed you past the brink. One of those, surely, has to be the answer for whatever the hell you've just seen.

It's all you can think about during dinner—you hardly touch the clam chowder your uncle had prepared. He notices the small helping you've poured for yourself when you sit down at the table, and you see him frown out of the corner of your eye. "Feeling alright, Y/N?"

You nod quickly. Too quickly. "I'm fine. Think I might've been out in the sun for too long today—I'll probably just get some water after dinner and head to bed."

He nods, visibly relaxing at your words. "Ah. That certainly can happen—I saw far too many colleagues faint back in the day after a long shift. It's brutal, that sun. That reminds me of one particular instance, actually—couldn't have been less than twenty years ago, I'll bet, when..."

He launches into another fishing anecdote, much to the delight of your cousins, while you continue to mentally spiral for the duration of dinner, locked in your own thoughts and what you know you couldn't have possibly seen. Your behavior, however, means your uncle doesn't mind at all when you go up to your room early—and when night finally falls and everyone else has gone to bed, no one notices you creeping back downstairs, either.

You have to know. You'll never be able to go to sleep tonight if you can't confirm whatever the hell you saw in the water earlier.

Your stomach interrupts your thoughts, piercing the quiet living room with an unfortunate grumble.

"Shit," you swear softly to yourself. You're hungry—it's no wonder. You barely ate dinner, and you only picked at a few snacks on the boat earlier. It certainly won't assuage your fears if you scare away whatever that thing was if your stomach growls the minute you step outside.

You quickly grab the first thing your eyes land on out of the first shelf in the refrigator—an apple, before finally striding over to the door and making your way back outside as quietly and nimbly as you can.

You practically run back to the edge of the dock, peering into the inky blackness of the water illuminated simply by the moonlight, only to find your own reflection staring back at you. There's nothing.

And you want to be reassured by that fact. You had to have been seeing things earlier, then—a result of the afternoon spent under the blistering sun, doing things to your eyes and your mind, and yet—

You have to check. You'll just dip a toe in, maybe—you're already barefoot, anyway. Nothing bites at your toe when you do, sitting down at the edge of the dock and letting the waves lap at your skin.

Well. You suppose to be really sure, you'll have to get in the water. It feels much better now than it did earlier today, you think as you lower yourself in up to your waist, still holding onto the dock with one hand, apple in the other. You don't remember the water ever feeling this good—this inviting. You wonder what it would feel like to go all the way up to your neck. Maybe even to go all the way underwater, to feel it enveloping every inch.

That last thought particularly entices you, so you let go of the dock, holding your hand (and the apple) above the water while you submerge the rest of your body beneath the waves. You wonder how long you can hold your breath underwater. Does it even matter, though? It wouldn't be so bad to stay here like this forever—

"...What is this?"

You're broken out of your thoughts by a muffled voice above you, piercing the silence and suddenly reminding you how long you've been underwater. Panic sets in almost immediately as you kick toward the surface, gasping for breath when your head breaches the waves again, breathing in sweet, fresh air as your arms attempt to tread water.

Well—arm. Singular. Someone else is holding on to your other arm, you realize far too late—the arm that's currently clutching that poor, stupid apple. A hand is wrapped around your wrist, and you feel dread sinking through your chest when your eyes follow the hand back to its owner. Perhaps that dread is why you aren't at all surprised when you once again lock eyes with the creature from earlier, this time his head and chest above water.

He looks at your sputtering form, unsurprised, before turning back to stare at the apple in your hand, head tilting to the side. "What is this?" you hear him repeat. His voice is incredibly raspy—as if he hasn't used it in years.

His lack of recognition towards you is almost irritating—as if he's disappointed that you exist. "...What?" you finally ask.

He brings another hand out of the water to tap at the apple. "This," he says. "I don't know what this is. Tell me."

You're still struggling for breath. "I...I'll tell you what it is if you let me back onto the dock."

He turns back to face you—quickly, head shifting far too quickly for something human. "No," he says, grip on your wrist unrelenting. "Tell me what it is."

Shit. "It's an apple," you say, frustration suddenly blooming in your chest. You're going to die because of an apple. Because you couldn't be bothered to eat your uncle's clam chowder for dinner. What the hell is wrong with you? If you ever get out of this, you swear on every god listening that you'll eat second helpings of every meal that man makes for the rest of your life. "You eat it."

Apparently you eat it to this creature means you can eat it—because he's lunging forward suddenly, bringing his teeth that look much more like that of a shark's than like the teeth in your own mouth onto the apple in your palm, tearing away a bite and swallowing it whole. God, you hope you aren't about to meet the same fate.

He makes a face, turning to look at you. "It's weird."

You heave a sigh. This is insane, you think. Maybe you really did lose your mind earlier on the boat—it's all your cousins' fault. Has to be. Hearing that constant, nonstop chatter about the overseas vacation they just went on (their third this year alone), and the toys the twins got for their birthdays, and the teacher at school they really don't like, has finally made you snap. "I don't know what to tell you," you say. "You said you'd never had it before. And you're stealing—I was going to eat that."

He lets go of your wrist from his damp grasp. "Hmm. You can have the rest of it, I guess."

He has let go of you. Every logical nerve in your body is screaming at you to start swimming, to pedal back up to the dock as fast as you can and scream for your uncle—but you don't. He let go of you. He had just wanted the apple.

You stare at him. You'd been right before—every feature of his is far too sharp to be human. The edge of his nose, the line of his jaw, the angles of his cheekbones—everything except his eyes. They're dark, as dark as the night sky behind you, but they're soft. They hold none of the sharpness of what you can see of the rest of his body.

You think back to the beginning of the day—to the stories of the fish-men your uncle had tried to spook your cousins with as you drove around the inlet. Damn him to hell—he was right.

You aren't sure who you're angrier at—him, for being correct about something so utterly insane, or you, for not being smart enough to realize he was telling the truth.

The creature in the water notices you staring at him. He blinks at you, tilting his head to the side. His gaze hasn't left you for a single instant, but there's something else spreading across his face now, tugging up the side of his lips in a faint smile.

"You aren't afraid," he says now, the rasp in his voice gradually beginning to ebb away.

You notice him watching your arms treading water now, apple bobbing beside you, but you don't say anything about it. You also don't say anything about how he isn't treading water but is still staying perfectly afloat—something else is propelling him to stay upright. And you think you may have an idea of what it is. "I...I don't know. I don't think so," is the only thing you can offer in response. "I don't know what you are."

He thinks for a moment. "A...a siren was what your people called us the last time we went to the surface."

A siren. You'll admit you didn't always pay constant attention in school, especially reading the Odyssey nearly three years ago, but you have a clear enough recollection of what these creatures were. Their entire purpose was to lure sailors to their deaths with their charms, wrecking their ships with a few words of a song.

"We couldn't come up to the surface very often then," he adds thoughtfully, remembering. "Too much of that black smoke in the air. That's what my father said, anyway."

Black smoke? You're confused for a moment before it dawns on you—you distinctly remember your uncle telling you that the railroad used to lie almost perfectly adjacent to the bay his house now resides on, back in the day before they'd decided to reroute the tracks to make room for the neighborhoods they were building. And if the trains the siren in front of you remembers were still billowing out black smoke...

Christ, how old is he, anyway?

"I'm supposed to drown you," he says plainly.

You furrow your brow at him. "You can try, I guess. I used to be pretty good at swimming."

He laughs at that too. The sound of his laugh is unbearably musical—light and gentle and not at all comparable to the rasp his voice had been at first, nor is it fitting for a creature who had just said he was here to kill you. "I almost did. That's how you ended up in the water—don't you see?"

Oh. Fuck. He must have been in your head, practically—convincing you to get in the water. It's what'd he done earlier in the day too, you realize—when you'd gotten in all the way up to your ankles without realizing. "How...how'd you do that?"

He shrugs. "I just hum. Some of my brothers are good at singing, but I think humming does the same thing at a much quieter rate. Harder to get caught that way."

"Does that happen to you often?" you ask. "Getting caught?"

He seems to ponder that for a moment. "No. I...I didn't have any plans on telling you this, but I've never actually drowned anyone before. You've been my first attempt."

You scoff at that. "I guess you're not a very good siren, then."

He stares at you, and you wonder for a split second if you've just made a fatal mistake by running your mouth, like you always do—but the edges of his lips quirk up in a strange smile. "That's not all we do, you know. We were the record-keepers of the ocean, back in the days before that fool Homer decided to only focus on our...occasional people-drowning habits. Once you become known for something, no one really cares what you used to do."

You blink at him. "Sorry, I...are you trying to make me feel bad for you? After you tried to drown me?"

His smile widens. "But I didn't drown you! I decided not to. Because I wanted to know what that was in your hand." He looks down at the apple bobbing in the water between the two of you. "Do you have anything else like this?"

You let out an incredulous laugh. "Why? Do you want to go through all the fruit in our fridge and take a single bite out of each one?"

He cocks his head slightly at you. "Why would I do that?"

Because it's what you just did, you want to yell at him—but you don't. Some semblance of common sense must be returning to you, now that you know you aren't in mortal danger.

He continues anyway. "I want to go back to our record-keeping ways. I like learning things. I've never spoken to a human before now—I've already learned so much. I know what an apple is. I know how easy it is to tell you to drown yourself."

You try to ignore the way your blood freezes cold for an instant at that last comment—and the way he gives you a knowing look after it leaves his lips. You think you may have a better understanding of what your situation is, now. "So you decided not to drown me because you wanted to know about the apple. You...you're only going to keep me alive if I keep bringing you things that you find interesting?"

But he shakes his head no. "You can go back up to the land now. I won't stop you. I was just suggesting that you'd think about doing me a favor, since I did one for you."

Deciding not to drown me isn't much of a favor—but you keep that to yourself. "You really wouldn't stop me if I went back up the dock? If I never set foot in the water again? Won't you...I don't know, get in trouble with the siren police or whoever you answer to?"

A bemused expression flashes across his face. "No, I don't answer to anyone. We used to travel in packs—and I think some still do, especially in the southern sects of the Pacific, but most of us are solitary, now. I do whatever I want."

“Must be nice," you reply before you can think to stop yourself.

He frowns a little at that. "What do you mean? You're the masters of the world as we know it, aren't you?" There may be a little edge of mocking at the end of that sentence, but neither of you comment on it.

Instead, you take one arm out of the water briefly to try to wave your words away, accidentally flicking a few drops of water on his face—but he doesn't even flinch. "Look—I shouldn't have said that,” you say.

"Who could possibly be telling you what to do?" he asks again. "I'm serious."

Now you do let a small laugh pass your lips. "You'd be surprised."

He just blinks. "Surprise me, then."

He did say he liked to learn. "Listen, I can't—" You cut off your own sentence when you see a light on the second story window flick on out of your peripheral vision. Shit. "I've got to go."

He casts his gaze upwards to the soft light emanating from the house. "I see," you hear him say as you plant your elbows on the edge of the dock, hauling your body back up to the wooden surface. Once you're out of the water, a sudden thought occurs to you—you never even asked the siren for his name.

Who cares? a voice in your head cries out. Your conscience, most likely—whatever scraps of common sense you have left. That thing was going to drown you. You don't need his name; you're never going to see him again.

Well—that you aren't entirely sure of, even if you may not be completely prepared to admit it. As much as you had apparently intrigued him, he had certainly kept your interest too. For crying out loud—he's a goddamn siren. How often did you get to have a sit-down conversation with a sea creature you had been perfectly convinced wasn't real an hour ago?

Even more intriguing, you think, was that air of freedom about him. I do whatever I want, he'd said. You can't imagine the last time anything like that left your mouth—or if anything like it ever had. You're drawn to that feeling of freedom—either out of jealousy or a desire to live vicariously through it, you aren't sure. But you do want to experience it again.

So you turn back around, the question of his name on the tip of your tongue—but it never gets any further. By the time you're looking back into the water below you, he's gone. Had you imagined the entire thing all along, you wonder for a brief instant?

But that thought shatters when you hear a splash to your right, at the very edge of the canal before it opens back up into the ocean, and you see the edge of a long, blue tail flicker in the moonlight before it disappears below the surface.

You let out a short laugh of disbelief at the sight. And the small smile that lingers on your lips—even as you hurry back towards the house, open the back door as quietly as possible, hurry back upstairs, throw your wet clothes in the bathroom, and jump back in your bed in a fresh pair of pajamas—doesn't fade away for quite some time.

Three days pass before you see him again.

You'd run out to the dock three nights in a row after everyone in the house had fallen asleep, peering into the water only to be met with the ripples of your own reflection staring back up at you. Disappointed, you had trudged back to the back porch and snuck back up to your room, lingering confusions about that damn siren swirling around in your head. You won't go check again tomorrow night. That entire meeting with him was apparently a one-time thing. It was a miracle that he'd let you live, anyway—a miracle that you aren't ever supposed to see again.

You still find yourself padding down to the dock on the fourth night—and this time, you aren't alone.

There's an apple sitting on the very last wooden plank on the end of the dock, water dripping off the edge and forming a small puddle around it. You almost let out a laugh at the sight, but it's swallowed by the yelp you accidentally let out when the siren's head emerges suddenly from beneath the surface. He stares at you, unblinking as he hauls his forearms onto the edge of the dock, propelling himself forward to look up at you.

"You're surprised," he says.

You take a breath to calm yourself before speaking. "You're observant."

He blinks once. Twice. "That's for you," he says, gesturing towards the singular fruit on the last plank of wood. "Since I ate the other one."

You look down at the apple, deciding you're safer not asking where he got this one—and then you look lower, peering down off the edge. The siren has pulled himself up to rest against the dock, which means he's only about halfway submerged into the water now. You see his arms, crossed on top of each other to support him resting on top of the dock. You see his chest, his abdomen, droplets of water still rolling down the toned muscles. And you swallow the gasp that threatens to escape you when you finally lock eyes on the dark blue tail that begins past his waist, swishing back and forth as it glistens with every beam of moonlight it reflects.

If he knows the cause of your sudden amazement, he doesn't say anything about it. Instead, he speaks again. "I wasn't sure if you'd be back."

You manage to pull your eyes back up towards his. "I, um...I realized I never got your name the other night. I figured you didn't just go by 'siren.'"

He smirks. "No, I don't. But I've never had to say it out loud before, like this." He thinks about it for a moment. "Hongjoong."

Hongjoong. "Hongjoong," you repeat.

You aren't sure if it's the moonlight playing tricks on you, or if his cheeks really do twinge a shade pink at the repetition from your lips. "What's yours?"

Now it's your turn to smirk a little. "You won't, like...gain some kind of terrible power over me once you know my name, right?" You think you remember reading about the fae having that kind of ability in school, but that was ages ago. And at the time, you didn't think you'd ever need to remember information about creatures you were certain didn't exist.

The siren—Hongjoong—shakes his head. "Not that I know of. I can look into it in our historical records though, if you'd like."

You shake your head quickly. Probably better off not knowing.

But you do tell him your name, and he smiles too. "Pretty," he says, and you think you understand how someone like him could talk someone like you into walking off a boat—but the thought doesn't scare you the way it might have the other night. He's so beautiful, you're realizing—almost impossibly so. To hear him say he thinks you're pretty, or at least your name is, almost makes you want to laugh.

Hongjoong pulls you out of your thoughts when he taps the space on the dock next to the apple with one hand. "Well? Are you going to take it?"

Oh. "Oh!" you say, bending over to pick up the fruit. "Sure. Thank you for bringing this to me—" and then, before you can stop yourself from the most sudden and peculiar act of boldness in your entire life so far— "do you...I don't know, want anything in return for it?"

He seems taken aback by your proposition at first, but only a moment passes before that soft, self-assured grin appears across his features again. "What would you want to give me?"

Christ. Why did you say that? "Well—um..." You glance down at your shoes with wet sand still caked to the sides, the green charm on the end of one shoelace, the fraying ends of the jacket you'd hastily pulled over your shoulders before walking outside tonight, before you see—

You quickly work it off of your wrist and hand it over to him. "Here," you say, sitting down at the dock's edge and handing Hongjoong the bracelet you've been wearing since you came to your uncle's house this summer. "You can keep it."

Hongjoong takes the bracelet delicately from your outstretched hand. He peers at it in the moonlight. "What is it?"

"It's a bracelet," you explain. "You can just wear it on your wrist for decoration—it doesn't have to mean anything. This one, um...it was actually from my parents, but believe me—it doesn't mean anything," you finish, trying (and failing) not to let that all-too-familiar drip of malicious venom back into your voice at the mention of the people who raised you. Who bought you this bracelet—a week-late birthday gift from your mother who had missed it while she was on a 'girls trip' in Italy. And yet, you still turned out like this—

Hongjoong continues studying the bracelet, poring over each individual charm. If he notices your attitude about your parents, he doesn't say anything—but after that first conversation you'd had with him, you think he may understand what you mean anyway.

The silence is starting to make you drowsy, so you move to stand back up. "Look, Hongjoong, I'd better head back. It's late. Will I, um—" Why does he make you so nervous now? "Will I see—"

"What are you bringing next time?" Hongjoong interrupts.

You blink. "What?"

He taps the bracelet with one finger. "I'll bring something else the next time I see you, if you bring something too."

He had said he liked to learn. "Okay," you say. There's a sudden warmth in your chest at the thought of seeing him again, even despite the cool breeze suddenly drifting off from the sea. "When will you be back?"

Hongjoong tilts his head to one side, thinking. "The next half moon. It should be in a few nights. I'll need time to find something good for you," he says, grinning.

You can't fight the grin that tugs at your own lips. "I'll be here, then."

You think about how the first two weeks of your summer had dragged by. Every day had felt like an unending loop of babysitting your cousins while your uncle went to work, of making an effort to laugh at said uncle's intentionally not-funny jokes, of picking up groceries and running errands and getting lost in the monotony of the mundane—but the second half of your summer is the complete opposite.

Going out and meeting Hongjoong by the end of the dock goes from a once a week occurrence to a nightly routine. And it doesn't stop at just bringing each other different little trinkets and knick-knacks and snacks that you find—you and Hongjoong both discover that you're better conversationalists than you'd previously thought. The two of you find yourself talking for hours about anything you can think of; you learn that Hongjoong's family is several times larger than yours, and that sirens swim further south when the water gets cold in the winter ("the same as everything else in the sea with any sense," he points out). And you tell Hongjoong about you, about all the summers you spent here with your older siblings when you were all still children, about the nights you snuck out with them and went to the gas station for ice cream—both of you hanging on each other's every word.

You find yourself looking forward to seeing him all day. You're in far better spirits than you were at the beginning of the summer, your uncle teases on several occasions, but you can't find it in yourself to be bothered.

You probably could try to make it slightly less obvious, though. After nearly a month of spending almost all your nights with Hongjoong, you find yourself one midsummer day back on the pontoon boat with your cousins and uncle, looking for an island to go for a picnic on—just like you had been that day you'd first seen him. You still keep to yourself on the bow of the boat the same way you did at the beginning of the summer, but your thoughts are full of nothing but the siren, now. You'd found an unfinished scrapbook of you and your siblings from years ago in your uncle's garage last night, and you're practically beaming at the thought of showing it to Hongjoong tonight. You wonder if he'll be able to pick out which one is you in the photos if you don't tell him. Maybe you'll—

"There's something in the water!" one of your cousins cries out, pointing towards the right side of the boat.

You practically shoot out of your seat. "Where?" you ask, rushing over to her side of the boat.

She blinks up at you, caught off-guard by your sudden enthusiasm. "Um...right next to the boat." She points again with a shrug. "There was a face, but it's gone now. I swear I'm telling the truth."

You nod, giving her a knowing grin. "I believe you."

Her eyes widen, a smile growing across her own features. "You do?"

Your uncle laughs from the wheel of the boat behind you. "You mean your reflection, bub?"

Your cousin shakes her head quickly. "No, it wasn't. It was something else, I know it."

Your uncle looks back and forth between the two of you, landing his gaze firmly on you. "Well—if you see anything else, you just let me know. It's almost the end of the summer, you know," he points out. "I've kept you all under my watch this long—I don't want anything to happen to either of you."

The little girl next to you nods before going back to her seat with the rest of your cousins, but you stay planted at the side of the boat for a while with them.

It's almost the end of the summer, you know.

What's been wrong with you for the last several weeks? Befriending a siren, of all things—where did you think that was going to go? Did you think you'd get to pack him up in your suitcase with everything else and take him home? Stupid, you think—you've been completely, utterly stupid. It's the only explanation for it.

No—that isn't entirely true, either. You may have been foolish, thinking you could keep a friendship with a siren, but that wasn't the only place those feelings were coming from. You've been distracting yourself, you realize now. You're trying to run, still—from the very same thing that led you to stay with your uncle this summer for the first time in years.

Maybe you've had your fill of running. It may be time to try facing the thing you've been avoiding all summer before it's too late—which is how you find yourself alone in the kitchen later that night, holding on to your uncle's home phone with one hand while you read her number to yourself off of your own phone (you're fairly certain she won't answer if she recognizes your number on her caller ID).

You almost hesitate before punching in the last number to dial and sealing your fate, but your uncle's words float back to you again. It's almost the end of the summer. What do you have to lose now, anyway?

You finish dialing the number.

She picks up on the fourth ring. "Hello?" She sounds slightly out of breath, as if she'd ran to catch the phone before it stopped ringing. The thought gives you a momentary sense of hope—maybe she won't hang up on you immediately once she realizes who's calling.

You take a deep breath before answering. "Hi, Mom," you say, slowly. "It's me."

She's silent for a long, long time—but she doesn't hang up. "...Oh," is the first thing your mother says. "I thought this was your uncle calling." You hear her take a breath, hesitating on saying what you know she's about to say. "I guess that's why you called from his phone, huh?"

You know there's no point answering that. "Mom, I...I wanted to talk to you, since the summer's almost over. I thought we could possibly talk about, um...about me staying at home for a little bit before school starts—or maybe coming home during winter break."

There's another long period of silence—and like the fool you are, you allow yourself to hope, for a brief moment, that she won't say exactly what you've known she was going to say the minute you dialed her number. "Hmm...no, Y/N, I don't really think that's a good idea." Your heart sinks, but she continues to push the dagger (that you practically handed her by making this call) further into your chest. "You know what—it's not really a good time right now, anyway. I'll talk to you some other time, alright?"

"Listen, Mom, I'm—"

Click.

She's hung up.

You told yourself earlier you wouldn't cry if she did this (you knew she was going to). And yet—you still can't fight those tears brimming at the edge of your eyelids, threatening to spill over. As you try to blink them away, your gaze is drawn towards the back window—towards the head of blue hair you can just barely see at the end of the dock, waiting expectantly for you already.

God. You cannot talk to Hongjoong right now—but you can't just blow him off entirely, either. You'll make something up, tell him you've gotten sick and can't see him for a few days, and hope he'll just forget about you and find some other human to trade apples for bracelets with.

You pad as quickly as you can down the end of the beach to the dock, peering over the edge to see Hongjoong's dark eyes looking up at you. "I can't talk tonight," you say sharply. "I'm sorry."

Hongjoong frowns. "What's wrong? Did you forget to bring something? It's okay, you know. I don't mind just talking to you. If you want."

Of course that's what he's concerned about. "No," you say, somewhat shakily. "I just can't, alright?"

You move to turn around, but the siren is a step ahead of you like always. He lunges forward onto the dock, grabbing ahold of your ankle with a strength you hadn't known he'd had. You think, for a moment, that if he had really wanted to drown you that day—he could have. "That's not good enough," he replies firmly, but his gaze softens the minute he sees your face closer. "I want to know what's wrong. Please."

It doesn't take much pleading from him for you to succumb to his wishes, so you relent, turning back around and sitting down on the edge of the dock. Hongjoong props himself up with his forearms before pushing the rest of his body up onto the dock, sitting upright and facing the sea beside you, just like you—something he's never done before. Only the last few scales on the edge of his tail just barely brush the water. "Tell me," he asks again, gentler this time.

So you do.

"It's my mother," you tell him, slowly. "Both my parents, really—they planned out me and my brothers' lives from the moment we were born. We were all supposed to be doctors, or lawyers, or scientists—something to make a ridiculous amount of money for them, just like they did for their parents. It was the only way to make them proud. They sent us to private schools and paid for expensive tutoring for years to ensure it, and they only spoke to us when we did well. They didn't want children—they wanted trophies. Things they could show off to their friends who were just as selfish and conceited as them. And they got them with my brothers—they did exactly what they were supposed to. Graduated law school or got their doctorates or PhDs, and now do nothing except work and get filthy rich. I'm the last one to fulfill what my parents had planned out for us. But I guess things don't always work out the way you planned," you add, somewhat bitterly.

Hongjoong keeps his gaze fixed on you. "No," he says, as gently as the water lapping at your ankles. "They don't. And...you don't want to do what they want you to."

You nod. "That's right. I don't. I think I should get a choice in what I make of my life, not slaving away forever at something someone else picked out for me. To do something of my own volition. And I told them so—and they told me I'd be on my own, forever, because of it."

"What do you want, then?" he asks.

You feel tears brushing against the edges of your eyelashes again. "It doesn't matter," you say, trying to keep your voice as steady as you can. "I'm screwed as it is. I have enough money saved for this semester of college, but they've cut me off entirely. I tried to call and make an attempt to patch things up tonight, but she wouldn't even listen to me. I'll be coming here every other semester to work, save up for the next semester, and stay with my uncle. I'm extremely grateful to at least have him on my side, to have someone who will allow me to stay with them—but I don't know if I'll ever get to see my parents or my brothers again. And I knew that would happen," you admit, voice definitely shaking now.

"I knew that was the choice I was making when I told them I didn't want to just be a stupid trophy for them to display, that I wanted to make something worthwhile, that I deemed worthwhile with my life. I knew it wouldn't be easy and that I was taking the harder route, but I thought I'd be able to just cut ties with them. Go no contact, and all that, but it...it's hard, Hongjoong," you tell him, tears rolling down your cheeks. "So fucking hard. And it's so stupid. Even after all this, after she's told me she doesn't want anything to do with me, now that I've chosen to 'waste my life away' and she 'doesn't know who I am anymore—' I still care what she thinks of me, for some stupid reason. She's still my mother—God, what am I supposed to do?"

Hongjoong turns to you almost instantly, cupping your face in both hands, and the sudden touch alone almost makes your tears stop falling. "Nothing stops the flow of the sea," he says, quietly. You want to move your gaze, to move your head away so your eyes aren't locked onto Hongjoong's so intensely, but he keeps you there anyway. "You just have to keep moving through it. With it. I think it's the same with your mother. It won't immediately be better tomorrow, just like how the sea isn't immediately perfectly calm after a typhoon—but it will be better, eventually. A little bit every day, as the waves return back to their normal rolling patterns."

"You don't think it's stupid?" you ask, quietly. "That I'm still so desperate to hold on to my mother, even if she's practically already thrown me away?"

Hongjoong shrugs. "Nonsensical, maybe. But not stupid. I don't think there's anything stupid about reaching out for someone who's taken care of you. My family has always been spread across the oceans—no matter where I go, it seems, I can find someone. I think it would be a much harder life if I was told none of them wanted to see me ever again. I'd feel stranded. And I haven't lived the same life as you, so I don't know what the exact circumstances are like, but I don't think it's a stupid aspiration. Just slightly nonsensical—but I think I'm realizing that a lot of things you do—that humans do," he corrects, "are that way."

That makes you laugh, even as his words settle into your ears and you begin to feel a kind of lightness in your chest. His world is so different from yours, you think. You're almost jealous of it, in a way.

And still, when he says things will be easier, eventually—you believe him.

"What is it that you want with your life?" he asks.

You laugh a little again. "It's cliché."

Hongjoong doesn't hesitate. "How would I know what your clichés are?" His hands are still firmly cupped against your cheeks.

Now the smile that ghosts across your face is real. Genuine. "Art," you say, quietly—as if you're afraid of admitting the truth even to him. "I love drawing—always have. It's all I've ever wanted to do. It used to be my escape when I came here in the summers with my family; I'd sneak away from everyone and paint on the beach for hours until my uncle would call for dinner. I begged for paint sets as a kid for birthday presents—even stole a set of charcoal pencils from the art room in middle school once. The teacher let me keep them even after finding out," you add, laughing a little. You bare your soul to Hongjoong, the parts of you that you've tried to squash for years but have failed to completely erase—like charcoal marks on a piece of paper that just won't quite go away.

He seems to ponder this for a moment. "Could you draw me?"

You laugh, feeling like a dam of relief is beginning to break within within you. He knows what has practically been your deepest, darkest secret for your entire life, and he doesn't want to shun you forever for it. "You know, I've always heard that's the one thing you aren't supposed to ask an artist."

Hongjoong blinks. "I didn't know that." There's only a single beat of silence before he asks, "Can you draw me anyway?"

"It won't be very good," you say with a shrug, smirk still tugging at the corners of your mouth. "I've never been very good at portraits. Landscapes and still life are easier for me."

He moves one hand to wrap around your wrist. "Try anyway."

The tenderness of the action coupled with his words—blunt as always, but reassuring in a way you've never known from him, never known from anyone—is enough to cause tears to prickle at the corners of your eyes again.

This time, Hongjoong notices, moving his free hand up your cheek to gently brush them away before they ever have a chance to cascade past your lashes. You see him sniff once, then look back up at you—realization dawning on his face.

"Salt," Hongjoong whispers in awe. "There's a piece of the sea in you, too."

That dam inside you breaks.

You meet his eyes, dark as the bottom of the ocean—feel the cool grip of his hand wrapped around your wrist and his fingers resting gently on your cheek, and you feel the pull towards him like the magnetism of the Earth's core.

When your lips land on his, it doesn't surprise either of you. It's a chaste, careful kiss at first. Hongjoong takes only a moment to breathe, forehead touching yours so lightly you almost wouldn't know he was there, before pulling you back to him and pressing his lips against yours again.

You've never experienced anything like it before—the tenderness of his hands on your skin, the softness of his lips on yours, his warm breath skating across your jaw. It's like he's everywhere, taking over every sensation—but not at all like that first time he had met you and influenced your thoughts. You feel fully in control right now. You're the one who's let him in.

If this is what drowning feels like, you think, you'd never complain.

You taste salt on your lips when you wake in the morning, and the sensation immediately sends a flurry of butterflies through your chest. A smile tugs at your mouth before you can even think to hide it from yourself.

Had last night even been real? Hongjoong reassuring you, kissing you so gently that you thought you might melt right into the water below the two of you—God, how could it not have been real? You could never have dreamed something like it.

If your uncle and cousins notice your uncharacteristically chipper mood at breakfast, a stark contrast to your melancholy behavior at dinner the night before, they don't say anything—but your uncle does look surprised when you offer to help load the cooler and towels onto the boat for the day.

"I've enjoyed having you here for the summer," your uncle tells you later that afternoon, when you've dropped anchor on a nearby island and your cousins are eating their lunches peacefully—the only time of the day you find that they're quiet. "Reminded me of the old days, with your brothers. It's been good to have you here."

You smile at him. "I've enjoyed being here," you admit, even if he doesn't know all the reasons why. "Thank you for letting me stay the summer. I really, um...really appreciate knowing there's someone who has my back."

His eyes crinkle in a soft smile. "Listen, Y/N. I know it's hasn't been easy after what happened with your mother—I don't know the whole story, but I'm not old and senile enough yet to not know something's up. But you'll always have a place to stay here. I want you to know that."

Your heart jumps. "Thank you, Uncle," you say. "You've always gone out of your way to make this feel like home for me, and you did the same when my brothers were here too. I can never thank you enough for that. And I—"

He just waves your words away. "That's what family does, you know? I've always felt like a bit of a black sheep living out here—compared to my sister, anyway. She always had big plans for all of you. But I've wanted this to feel like a good place for you, and your brothers, and now your cousins too—no matter what. Even when you all would sneak out for late-night gas station runs back in the day...or whatever it is you're doing now," your uncle adds, pointedly.

Your stomach twists. "I've...been taking moonlit strolls. It's helped me relax, with everything going on."

He doesn't seem convinced, however. "Honey...you know, you can always—"

But he's interrupted by one of your cousins shouting. "Jay won't give me the binoculars back!"

Your uncle frowns. "Jay, let your sister have a turn. Only fair, you know."

Jay crosses his arms, tucking the binoculars under one elbow. "No way! Every time Bianca uses these, she keeps telling me she sees somebody staring at her in the water."

Bianca scowls, lunging for him. "And I did! Just because you didn't see him doesn't mean I didn't."

Him.

After what your uncle had just said about your moonlit strolls, you restrain yourself from running over to the edge of the boat immediately like the other day—but your eyes still scan over the water ahead of you hurriedly.

You can see your uncle's gaze flicker back to you out of the corner of your eye, hesitating for a moment too long, before turning his attention back to the twins. "You guys have seen more stuff on the horizon in the past month than I saw in twenty years on the sea," he quips, forcing a tight laugh. "Might need to get you kids back to living in the city soon if you're seeing this many things in the water—not everyone's made for the sea life," he adds.

The knot of worry tightens itself a little tighter in your gut, and not for the last time this summer.

You still smuggle your sketchbook down to the pier once night falls, slipping out the back door with it tucked securely under your arm.

Hongjoong, of course, is waiting expectantly for you, peering up at you from the edge of the dock. "Is that for drawing?" he asks, and you can hear the twinge of excitement in his voice.

Your heart does a little backflip in your chest. "Yes," you admit, a little more sheepishly than you'd meant to. "Do you know how you want to pose for it?"

He thinks for a moment. "Can I sit up here with you? I want to be close to you for it."

Oh—now there are serious acrobatics going on within your chest. "Sure," you say, grinning as you sit on the far edge and watch him scoot up to sit beside you, leaning on the support beam at the very edge of the dock.

You gaze at him for a moment after flipping open your sketchbook and finding an empty page. His tail practically shines in the darkness around the two of you, moonlight reflecting off of each dark blue scale. His torso looks practically sculpted by the gods—arms and chest full of just as much unearthly beauty as his face, jawline sharper than the tip of the pencil you're sketching him with.

Not for the first time, you think to yourself how beautiful he is.

Hongjoong's cheeks turn the fairest shade of pink as you continue to stare at him, but he doesn't say a word as you begin your initial sketch. You find it slightly difficult to get the right shape of the tail flicking against the edge of the water beneath you. "Can I ask you a question?" you say instead, putting down your pencil for a moment.

Hongjoong blinks. "You've asked me questions for weeks, now."

You laugh. "This is a different one. I...I think one of my cousins saw something in the water today. When we were on my uncle's pontoon boat. Any chance you might know something about that?"

His cheeks turn pinker than before, but he doesn't flinch. "I suppose I might."

You can't bite back a grin. "Are you...following me, Hongjoong?"

Hongjoong frowns a little. "I wouldn't call it that. I've...just been in the area. Keeping an eye on things. Not just you."

"Just at the same time as me."

"Right," he says, clearly relieved. "Exactly."

Your grin widens.

Hongjoong points at your sketchpad. "Are you finished with the drawing?"

You laugh a little, picking your pencil back up from beside you on the dock. "No, not even close. I've never drawn anything like you before—but I love a good challenge."

He seems somewhat pleased with this admission. "Will you show it to me once it's done?"

“Of course," you tell him, and he beams. That smile—God. You only hope you can put even a fraction of the way it makes you feel back onto the paper in your palms.

Your uncle corners you in the kitchen after breakfast the next morning. You feel yourself panicking inwardly at first, thinking he's going to continue pressing you on your "moonlit strolls" conversation from yesterday—but he just informs you that he's planning on a big seafood broil for dinner tomorrow night, as a send-off for the summer. And more importantly, he wants you to pick up a few pounds of shrimp from the seafood store in town today.

It's been a while since you ventured that far back into town—God, probably since the very first week of summer. And now your uncle is preparing a feast for the end of the season. You've never known time could pass you by this quickly.

That thought lingers as you ride your uncle's bike down the boardwalk and across the bridge, gradually making your way onto the mainland. You've put off thinking about what will happen once the summer comes to a close since that night you called your mother—but it's an inevitable fact that you'll have to leave, obviously sooner than you think. How can you even begin to bring that up to Hongjoong? Does he know, already, somehow? Will he be disappointed that he can't obtain any more knowledge from you and dip back into the sea, never to be seen again?

Your racing mind quiets somewhat when you realize you've made it to the seafood store—or shack, as it's always been affectionately known. You gaze for a moment at the neon sign outside, realizing that "THE CRAB SHACK" only has a few lights that actually work. "T E CR B S H C K" is what the sign displays now.

You remember that the lights didn't work when you were here years ago, either. The whole bottom row of neon was always out, meaning that the sign only read "T E CRB." You wonder if there's a meaning in that—that the sign was broken then and broken now, just showing it in different ways.

Or maybe it's just a neon sign for a seafood shack, and your suddenly gloomy mind is searching for meaning where there is none.

You roll your eyes at your own thoughts, park your bike, and make your way inside. The smell of seafood is nearly overpowering the minute you step through the door and doesn't fade for an instant, even after you've collected your pounds of shrimp in bags and make your way to the register in the very back. You wonder if the employee behind the counter even smells the seafood anymore, or if he's completely accustomed to it now.

He clears his throat awkwardly. Oh, God—how long have you been standing here? "Are you ready to check out?"

"Yes! Yes," you say hurriedly, laughing at yourself. "Sorry. In my own head this morning."

The cashier laughs good-naturedly in reply. "It happens." He looks down at the bags of shrimp after weighing and typing them in. "You visiting a friend here or something? That's quite a few pounds of shrimp—and I don't think I've seen you in here before."

You nod. "I'm staying with some family on the other side of the bridge. We're doing an end-of-summer broil tomorrow night."

He grins at you. "Can I come by if I only charge you for one of these?"

"If there's any leftovers," you reply coolly. "My cousins are pretty ravenous."

The cashier just laughs again, handing you the bags. "Fair enough. You have a good day, now."

"Same to you," you tell him absentmindedly—because you've noticed something in the open door behind the cashier. It's probably not meant to always be open, as it leads to a boardwalk out to the sea. Another Crab Shack employee is lining up a few crates of stock not yet loaded into the store. A couple canisters of fruit, three or four crates of sodas—and at the very end of the boardwalk, you think you might just see a head of blue hair peeking out of the water.

Shit.

You wonder as you quickly make your way out of the store, as you duck under the Sea You Later! sign at the exit, as you pedal the whole ride back over the bridge and back onto your uncle's property—a trick of the light, maybe? (When has that ever been the case this summer?) Will Hongjoong even say anything about it tonight, if it was him?

He does, of course. When evening falls and you make your way down to the dock, you haven't even taken your pencils out of your drawing bag before Hongjoong is pulling himself up beside you, gazing at you intently.

"What was so funny?" he asks, in a tone so innocent you almost think he's being genuine. "I want to know."

You make an exasperated face. "I don't know what you're talking about, Hongjoong."

"The man in the store today," he answers plainly. "In the apron. You laughed at something he said."

"Nothing," you say. "I was being polite—I promise. He was the one trying to make jokes about inviting himself over. Not nearly as funny as he thought he was."

He isn't quite satisfied with that. "Did you know him before?"

"No," you tell him. "I was just in there getting shrimp for my uncle to cook tomorrow."

Hongjoong frowns. "I could've gotten you shrimp. There's plenty around that cove near the bridge."

You laugh. "I appreciate the offer—but where would I have told my uncle several pounds of live shrimp came from?"

He frowns, thinking for a moment. "The apron man wasn't too bright, I think," Hongjoong says. "I saw him come out onto the boardwalk not too long after you left—almost fell over trying to help the other apron man pick up those boxes."

His words hang in the air for a beat. Then two. "What would you have done if he had?" you ask, partially teasing and partially serious. "Drown him?"

Hongjoong ponders that. "I'm not sure. Maybe."

"For what? Talking to me?" you ask, somewhat incredulously. "What were you doing watching me in the middle of the day, anyway? Just 'in the area' again?"

He crosses his arms indignantly. "I didn't plan to. I heard your laugh when I came up for air, so I wanted to know what was funny." He seems to pause on that for a moment. "You're almost a siren yourself, in that way."

Now that makes your heart stop—maybe more than he had intended it to. You have to hide the smile that threatens to creep up the edges of your mouth. "So you really aren't going to drown that poor cashier? Or me, for talking to him?" you ask, still only partially teasingly.

Hongjoong's face softens slightly at that. "I don't think I ever really intended to. Not from the moment I saw you."

You wonder, for a split second, if he can hear your heart thundering in your chest—if he has any idea what kind of effect he has on you, siren abilities or not.

He seems to have an idea of your thoughts, either way—because he reaches for your hand, intertwining it with his. "I want to show you something."

You stare at him for an instant too long. "Where?" you ask, nervous laughter accidentally escaping you. "In the water?"

He nods, as if that should have been obvious. "Of course."

You give him a look. "Hongjoong—I don't know how far this is, but you know I'm not nearly as good at holding my breath as you are."

Hongjoong laughs a little at that—that bright, airy, musical laugh that almost instantly sets you at ease, reminding whatever sane parts of you are left that he's still a siren. "Don't worry," he says plainly. "I'll make sure you can breathe."

Just as always, there's no malice in his tone, no hint of a hidden plot behind his eyes, although you wonder if you would even know if there was, skillful siren that he is. Regardless, you squeeze his hand in yours and let him lead you off the dock and beneath the waves, taking one last gasping breath before your head slips underneath.

Hongjoong keeps your hand in his, tail swishing as he leads the two of you further beneath the surface—the scales across it continue to reflect moonlight as brightly as if you were still above the water, giving you just as much visibility in the dark water as if you had a flashlight with you.

What's a flashlight?

You nearly let out a yelp before you remember the two of you are underwater. That was Hongjoong's voice, no doubt about it—and it was in your head.

You can talk to me this way too, you know.

It's like he's invaded your head—his thoughts are suddenly yours. Can you always hear my thoughts? you wonder. If that's been the case all along—

But you can just barely see Hongjoong shake his head in front of you through the darkness. No, you hear him say. Only when we're here, like this. Do you need air?

God, you definitely, definitely do—the shock of Hongjoong's voice in your mind had completely distracted you for a brief moment from the lack of air in your lungs. It's nothing at all, though, compared to the shock you feel when Hongjoong cups your cheeks between his hands and presses his mouth to yours.

He's kissing you.

No—he's not, you realize suddenly. He's breathing into you, pushing air down your lungs and filling them up until you feel like you can breathe again, despite being completely submerged beneath the water.

Hongjoong pulls away after a moment. Good? he asks.

You nod—you're slightly embarrassed now, especially now that you know he could hear your confusion in your head.

And especially considering the smirk you can see on his lips right before he turns back around to push the two of you further through the water. He's well aware of the confusion he's caused.

Hongjoong only has to give you air two more times before you finally arrive at what he had wanted to show you—and it nearly takes your breath away once more.

It's a shipwreck. A massive one, sitting completely undisturbed at the bottom of the bay. The ship has three broken masts, some of the sails slightly submerged in the sand with several of the cannon openings peeking out at you, which you know can mean only one thing.

This ship is hundreds of years old. One that had clearly gone down in a fight.

Hongjoong beams at you taking in the scene. My cousins did this, you hear him say, and you nearly laugh at the clear pride in that declaration.

You think about your own cousins, playing pirates on the beach while they throw buckets of water at each other, stomping over sandcastles and leaving childlike destruction in their wake. Yeah? you finally ask. Sounds like something my cousins would do.

Hongjoong stares at you thoughtfully for a long time after that—you wonder, for a brief moment, if you shouldn't have compared your family to his in this way. You're just about to formulate a thought to apologize when you feel his lips on yours again, one hand on the back of your head while the other cups your cheek gently.

You stare at him, confused once more when he pulls back. I didn't need air, you tell him, eyebrows knit together in confusion.

He stares right back. I know.

Hongjoong waits to see the realization on your face before he touches you again, clasping your chin between two fingers gingerly. He's giving you a chance to push him away, if that's what you want.

It isn't.

You hold his face in your hands when you press your lips to his this time, and you can practically feel the relief emanating from him in your own mind. He wraps one arm around your waist and the other around your shoulders, holding you as close to him as he can. Everything else—all your fearful thoughts about the end of the summer from today, your suspicions about your uncle, your constant stress about your mother—all fades away past the point of existence, and in that moment, there is nothing but you and Hongjoong at the bottom of the ocean.

"Sure you don't want to go out on the boat today?" your uncle asks the next morning. "It's your last chance for this summer."

But you shake your head again. "I got pretty sunburned across my back yesterday," you fib. "I'll watch the house here until you all get back. Do you need me to run any errands for you while you're gone?"

He doesn't quite stop himself from narrowing his eyes at you. You've been out in the sun enough times this summer that the half hour you spent in the backyard watching your cousins' impromptu performance of A Midsummer Night's Dream yesterday shouldn't have burned you at all. And you know he's fully aware of this. "...Don't know how many times I've told you kids to wear sunscreen," he says after a moment. "And reapply."

"I know," you wince. "I'm sorry. I'll put some lotion on it after breakfast."

"There's some in the closet upstairs with aloe," he informs you. "That usually speeds up the healing process for me."

"Good to know," you tell him. In truth, the only thing you plan to do while everyone is out of the house is work on your drawing of Hongjoong. You've solidified the outline, gone over it with an ink pen, but you're still trying to decide how to place the shading. You want to show the finished product to Hongjoong tonight—your last night of summer. You've put off that dreaded conversation with him until the very last minute—but you know you two will have to talk about what happens two nights from now when you're across the country, moving into your dorm room for your first night at college.

At least—you think you will be. There's a mad fantasy, of course, of staying here, of sneaking out to see Hongjoong every night for as long as you can, of running away with him somehow to some island where no one will ever bother the two of you—but it's just that, a fantasy, and you know it. Even if the entire summer has felt like a fantasy in its own way.

You don't know how that conversation will go tonight. But you want to at least be able to give this piece to him, regardless of what happens.

You're hunched over your sketchpad for hours, messing with the combination of paints for your watercolors until they're just right (or at least as satisfactory as you can get them). The scales on his tail are the hardest—you want so badly to show how ethereal they look with the moonlight reflecting off them, making him look like he's glowing from the waist down. You lay down a base color first and paint over it with different shades of blue and green, creating several different layers until you're pleased with the color's result.

Your work on the contours of his face and torso comes much easier, and the full painting is almost completely dry by the time you're heading back outside, moon high in the sky to greet you as you step onto the dock.

Hongjoong is waiting for you too, forearms resting at the edge of the pier. You roll the painting into a cylinder shape as you walk down to meet him, but you know he knows exactly what it is.

He grins. "I've been thinking about this all day," he admits, immediately, and you feel an entire enclosure of butterflies fluttering through your chest at the statement.

But you steel yourself. Take a breath. "Before I show it to you," you say, "I want to talk."

Hongjoong nods. "The end of the summer. Right?"

You raise one eyebrow at him. "How'd you know?"

"I heard you talking about it. With your uncle, that first time that your cousin spotted me from the boat." He grins a little at the recollection. "I heard him say there wasn't long until the end of summer, when you'd be leaving, so—I imagined this conversation would happen soon."

You exhale, slightly relieved. At least you wouldn't have to break the news of your sudden departure to him. "And how did you imagine this conversation?"

He takes a breath now. "I know I can't ask you to stay here. That's not fair to what you want—to the choices you've made with your own family for being able to make your own life. But I was thinking—"

"Y/N!" You hear a voice cry out from behind you.

You'd recognize the sound of your uncle anywhere—and you feel your blood practically freeze over in your veins. "Get back here. Now!"

You turn around quickly, trying to block the view of Hongjoong from your uncle—but it's too late. And as you turn to face him, you see that he's come prepared for this exact situation—a shotgun raised to his shoulder now, eyes peering down the barrel pointed at you, and a long fishing spear beside him on the dock.

"Uncle," you say, as calmly as you can. "Put that down. Please."

"Get back here, Y/N," he says, voice trembling with barely contained rage. "Get away from that thing right this minute and get out of my way."

You take a shaky breath. "Uncle, please let me explain. He's—"

"I know exactly what that is!" your uncle spits, pulling back the safety on the shotgun with a loud click. "A goddamn monster. You have no idea what those things do," he says, voice cracking. "I've seen men—good men, my friends taken from me, by its kind. Yanked right off our ship's railing and into their waiting mouths. It's nothing but a bloodthirsty animal that—"

"Stop!" you interrupt him with a shout, surprising yourself with the tenacity in your voice. You feel Hongjoong's hand wrap around your ankle, probably trying to tell you to stop—but you can't. You won't. "He's not a single thing like that. His name is Hongjoong. He's never even drowned anyone, let anyone killed and eaten anyone, Uncle. You have—"

"It's got you under it's spell," your uncle says, horrified. "Oh, my poor Y/N. I'll kill this nasty beast and free you from this trap."

You practically scream the next time you open your mouth. "No! You can't!" There's tears streaming down your face now, and the intensity of your emotions must be a surprise to your uncle, if the look of shock on his face is anything to go by. "Uncle—I'm begging you," you plead, sobbing. "I'll do anything. Please, please don't hurt him. He's my friend."

Something strange flickers over your uncle's features. He drops the barrel ever so slightly from being pointed at you. "Your friend, huh?"

You nod as you choke back another sob. "I love him." It's the first time you've admitted it—to yourself, let alone out loud—but you know it's the truth. Has been for longer than you've been aware, most likely.

That admission causes your uncle to drop the barrel entirely, holding the shotgun down in one hand and letting his other arm rest at his side. "My Y/N," he says, after a moment with a sigh.

"I've always wanted the best for you. I lived with your mother for eighteen years growing up, up until she met your father and had you and your brothers. I know how...how demanding she can be," he says with a laugh, one you don't reciprocate. "I know her tendencies all too well. She's my sister, and she'll always be my sister—but that doesn't mean I think she's a good person. I've tried to show you that there's a different path in life. That you don't have to do things her way. This...isn't what I thought you'd do," he says, laughing emptily again. "But I would never want to do anything that would hurt you on any level close to what I know she's caused you."

Your uncle swallows. Takes a breath. "I swore an oath," he says, steadier now. "In the navy. When I see anything like this, when any of us do—I'm honor-bound to report it. The local unit will be over here in under half an hour. Maybe even sooner."

You feel yourself holding your breath.

"So," he says, sighing as he meets your gaze down the dock. "You two...had just better not be here by the time they show up."

Before you can say anything in response—or perhaps before he can change his mind, your uncle turns on his heel and walks back towards the house.

You turn back around to face Hongjoong, sinking to your knees—and the minute you do, you feel tears streaming back down your face again.

He immediately pushes himself up onto the dock, grabbing hold of your face and brushing away the tears the instant they fall. "Y/N," he whispers. "You didn't have to do that. I...I love you. I would've gladly taken a bullet from your uncle if it meant you'd be safe."

Your eyes well with tears again, a shaky laugh leaving you. "Shit," you whisper back. "I don't—I don't know what to do, I just...just wanted to show you this stupid drawing," you say, laughing shakily. "And now I've ruined both of our lives. I'll never see you again."

"No. You haven't," Hongjoong says firmly, squeezing your cheeks in his hands.

You grab hold of his wrists. "Hongjoong—you have to get out of here. You...you said you have family everywhere, right? Go anywhere else. Please."

"No," Hongjoong says suddenly, straightening up the instant your hands wrap around his wrists. "Where did you say that school you were going to for your art was?"

You tell him. "It's on the coast, but it's not nearly as close to the sea as we are here, I—"

He interrupts you again. "I'll find you."

You let out an unbelieving laugh. "Hongjoong, there's no way—"

"I'll find you," he repeats, hands still cupping your face firmly. "On the name of the full moon that night you found me—on that stupid apple that led me to you. I'll find you. And then, you can let me see that drawing."

He leans forward, his lips pressing against yours in a messy kiss—all teeth and salty tears and hands squeezing too tight, or maybe not tight enough—before he lets go of you, pushing himself off the dock and into the water. You see one flick of his tail before he descends deep beneath the surface, and it's not long at all as you sit there, chest heaving and cheeks stained, before the waves are gone and the sea stills, and it's like Hongjoong was never there at all.

Fall semester has left you busier than you could have ever dreamed. You've never done this many sketches in a week, never tried this many different techniques at once, never spent this many all-nighters on a single project—but you'd be lying if you said you weren't still enjoying every second of it.

Your job keeps you plenty busy, too—your roommate had been kind enough to put in a good word at the campus library and gotten you a job in the coffee shop on the first floor. You're taking as many shifts as you can, but the pay isn't bad, all things considered. You may not have to take a semester off after all.

But the diving club keeps you almost busier than both your work and assignments combined. You've already logged more hours than any of the other freshman, and some of the upperclassmen, too. If the club captain has noticed how you're always late packing up after a dive, she hasn't reprimanded you. Maybe she's noticed the unique shells you seem to always come back with, or the skip in your step as you pack up your scuba gear, rolling a shiny bracelet over your wrist—or maybe she's noticed something else, entirely.

After all—last summer, you had been so sure that there was nothing like Hongjoong living below the water's surface. Of course, that didn't mean other people didn't already believe otherwise.

a/n: happy holidays !! i hope everyone is staying warm and healthy and having a lovely week so far <3

and finally…this title escapes my wip list 😭 y’all. i have been working on this on and off since late 2021—sometimes you can have an idea, have absolutely no inspo to write past halfway through, and then write 5k in one night. 💀 no such thing as a perfect project ofc but i do hope you enjoyed this oneshot! feedback is always welcome through reblogs, comments, and messages 🫶🫶 thank you sm for reading!

taglist: @petrichor-han @kangroo-chan @ot7lonelylover @lilacdreams-00 @mainexiii @awkwardnesshabitat @lotus-dly @elizabeth11moreno @nerdysl-t @seung-scrittore @fireheaurt

©️ noramoons 2021-2023. do not translate or reupload my writing.

#hongjoong x reader #kim hongjoong x reader #ateez oneshot #ateez x reader #ateez fluff #ateez angst #hongjoong fic #hongjoong fluff #hongjoong angst #hongjoong x gender neutral reader #hongjoong oneshot #ateez fic #beck writes ✍️

216 notes · View notes

short-honey-badger · 5 months

Text

Peppermint Tea

I'm baaaacckkkkk

I hope you enjoy. This may be the start of a new series, not sure yet. But I hope you all enjoy!

Pairings: Dracule Mihawk x Reader (Devil fruit user)

Update! This fic has gone through a lot of changes! so new pairing will ultimately be Mihawk x Reader x Shanks!

Summary: Mihawk wakes from his nap near what should be a deserted island. Turns out that you and your dog Hank are its sole inhabitants. One visit leads to another until your island becomes his home away from home.

Masterlist

Devil fruit user reader,

Warnings: none yet!

Dracule Mihawk wakes to the sound of screaming. He is already scowling by the time he cracks his eyes open and sits up to scan the horizon. Seems like he had drifted close to a small island while napping. His lip curls up in a sneer when he hears the screams again, and it has him standing from his perch and using a bit of haki to see what was going on.

There, being chased by a group of obvious pirates, is you. His ringed eyes narrow, and with a dramatic sigh, Mihawk directs his little boat closer to the shore and tosses the anchor over. In a flash, he stands on shore and begins making his way toward the commotion that woke him in the first place. Dracule is not a hero. he would never dream of calling himself one, but even he would not turn a blind eye to a woman in need. He wasn't a monster, after all.

The warlord swings his sword from his back and takes off, boosting himself forward with a little haki. It's laughable how easily Mihawk cuts down the pirates, these men little more than bandits with a stolen ship. However, he is caught off guard when the ground under his feet suddenly becomes cold, near freezing, and he is quick to hop away from the patch of snow that has formed under his feet.

“You ass! I was having fun!” The woman he thought he had saved snarls at him. Mihawk schools his face back into its usual unimpressed look and looks at you. She is scowling fiercely up at him, but all Dracule can see is an upset kitten.

“You should be grateful. I saved your life, you know.” He replies hauntingly and swings his sword back around to latch it to his back, “Why were they chasing you?”

You shrug at him, shifting foot to foot in impatience. You needed to get a move on. Hank was waiting for you back home. “I dunno. They showed up this morning and demanded I give them whatever I had. I told them to fuck off.” She frowns and kicks the snow that has gathered around her. “They didn't like that answer.”

“No, I would imagine not,” Mihawk agrees and looks her over. The woman wears simple clothes, just leggings and a loose tunic, and quite a few years younger than himself. He finds himself oddly concerned. Hmm. How unlike him.

“Are you alone here?” He asks, and the woman looks suspicious immediately. Her shoulder squares, and she shifts into a defensive stance. Dracule wonders if she even needed his help in the first place.

“Yeah? So what?” You demand and narrow your eyes at him. “Why don't you wear a shirt?”

Dracule blinks at her, definitely not having expected that to be her question, “I run hot.” He says and wonders why he is even entertaining this girl.

“Ha, I run cold!” She exclaims, and snow begins to fall around her as if to prove her point. Slowly, she begins to relax after realizing that this man isn't trying to attack her like the last people. She debates with herself for a moment before ultimately giving in to her baser desires. It's been so long since she's had good, human company.

“Would you like some tea?”

Mihawk opens his mouth to turn her down, but what comes out is, “What kind do you have?” He can't help but enjoy the tiny little smile you send him at his question. He is curious as to why you have yet to call him out, and questions why a warlord of the sea wanted with you and your little island.

“I grow my own, so you'll have to come see at home,” you tell him and point south, “If you aren't busy anyway?”

Truth be told, Dracule probably should get back on his boat and sail away to never see this slip of a girl and tiny island again. Go back to his lonely castle and read the hundreds of books just waiting to be cracked open. Maybe even do his job and report to the Marines about this place. But Mihawk would do none of those things. Instead, he gestured for you to lead the way and was rewarded with another one of those timid smiles.

“Hank should still be home. He's my dog,” you inform him as the two of you walk, and it doesn't take very long for your home to come into view. It's a quaint little cottage with rows of flowers and a large garden off to the side. He can see rows of drying herbs in one of the windows and even a smoke room connected to the side of the cottage. A massive hound with shaggy gray fur comes bounding up. It doesn't even bark at him and instead plops right down and starts to beg for attention.

“And this is why you aren't a guard dog, Hank,” you grumble and pat the hound on his massive head as you walk past Mihawk. Dracule eyes the dog before rolling his eyes and giving in to pat the top of his head like you had.

“You know, I know his name now, but I've yet to have the pleasure of knowing yours.” Mihawk follows after you, and a tiny smirk plays on his lips when he sees your face flush a pretty pink.

“God's, I'm sorry about that,” You laugh and run your fingers through your hair before offering the handsome man your hand and introducing yourself.

Mihawk grasps your hand, noting that you indeed do run very cold, “Dracule Mihawk,” he rumbles and waits for the inevitable panic that his name usually causes anyone he comes across.

“Huh. I like that. It suits you. Especially your eyes,” You tell him instead, and Mihawk finds that he likes You even more than he thought he would.

“Thank you,” he mutters quietly and follows you through the open door of your home. The inside is just as cozy as on the outside, and he has a hard time not immediately investigating the tall stacks of books that seem to be piled on every available surface. Most of them look worn and smudged, as if they'd been drowned in water.

“Sorry for the mess. I don't have company very often,” you murmur with a bit of wince and clear a chair for your guest.

“Nothing to apologize for, Darling,” Mihawk assures you and examines the rest of your home. It's cluttered, yes, but clean and more or less organized. He cuts his eyes toward you and smirks again at the sight of your flushed face. It seemed that you were not very used to being called any type of pet name.

You cough and rub the back of your neck, “Anyway, tea is this way,” you lead him to the kitchen where strings of dried herbs hang from the ceiling. You point at a group set away from the others and point out which is which. “The peppermint came out nicely this year, probably my favorite so far.”

“I'll have that then,” He watches as you dither around the kitchen, bringing a chipped kettle to a boil and pouring the two of you steaming cups of tea. He blows gently and then sips, humming at the pleasant coolness of the tea.

“Very nice,” he compliments and watches intently as you blush even brighter than before. Mihawk finds that he enjoys making you light up.

You quietly thank him and take a small sip of your own. He can feel your eyes on him, but Dracule doesn't particularly mind your curiosity. If earlier was any indication, then you had absolutely no idea who he was, and Mihawk would prefer to keep it that way.

“And thank you for earlier, with those men,” you speak up, and Dracule ticks a brow up at you, “I could have handled them, but definitely not as quickly as you did.”

“Mhm. You are welcome. The tea is a good enough reward,” the warlord teases, and you laugh quietly at his quip. After that, it's as if a dam broke. Conversation flowed between the two of you, and Dracule found himself hard pressed to leave when he looked outside and noticed that the sun was setting.

“Ah, I should be on my way. It is late, and I don't want to disturb you any longer,” Mihawk mentions. Truthfully, he wouldn't mind staying longer, but there were things he actually needed to attend to.

You blink and jerk your head to the window. It's near dusk and the sun paints the sky in hues of pink and purple, “Oh, I guess it is pretty late, huh,” you murmur and try to keep the disappointment out of your tone. Today has been one of the best days you've had in a very long time. You would miss Dracule Mihawk.

The warlord makes a split decision and stands, only to step close to his host and gently place a knuckle under her chin. He lifts her face, and she looks up at him with stars in her eyes when he swipes his thumb over her bottom lip, “Don't worry, Darling. You'll see me again,” he assures her softly.

You wet your lip, tongue ghosting over the pad of his thumb, “Promise?” You whisper, and Dracule gives the young woman a smile that will forever solely belong to you.

“Of course, sweet thing,” Mihawk murmurs and reluctantly pulls away. He grabs his sword and hat, fixing them to their proper places before he heads to the door, “I'll see you again.”

You watch him go, heart beating loudly in your chest as you stand to watch him out the window. When he disappears from sight, you plop back down and cover your flaming face with your hands. You couldn't wait to see him again.

@writingmysanity @kenkenmaaa @browneyedhufflepuff @foggyturtleknightangel

#fanfic #one piece #reader insert #fluff #cute #mihawk x reader #one piece mihawk #hawkeye mihawk #dracule mihawk #op mihawk #opla mihawk #opla dracule mihawk #mihawk x you #mihawk x y/n #devil fruit #reader is a devil fruit user #ignorance is bliss #Peppermint Tea

328 notes · View notes

rollinouttahere-writes · 4 months

Note

what about platonic Zeff and Sanji where they take in an abanoned baby and Sanji is immediately like guess I'm a big brother now

Adrift, At Home

Platonic Zeff and Child Sanji x GN Baby Reader

2.6k words

Warnings: graphic depictions of gore and mild references of starvation

The fishing line swayed with the water, drifting freely as it waited for something to bite. Zeff had been sitting in a chair on the dock for a while now and had yet to catch anything beyond the errant piece of seaweed that had tangled itself on the hook. This didn’t bother him. The restaurant was closed for the day and he was more than content to simply enjoy the fair weather, the fishing rod was an excuse to be out here more than anything.

He’s not an old man that just wants to relax once in a while, he’s catching some fish for the restaurant, thank you very much.

A page was turned from a little farther down the dock. Zeff glanced over, casually observing Sanji as he paged through that fish book he was so fond of. He was lying on his stomach, head propped up on one hand and feet kicking in the air behind him. The boy was fully engrossed in the book and hasn’t spoken a word to Zeff since coming out here. Which was normal for him.

Zeff went back to idly watching his line, not wanting to provoke Sanji into getting huffy because he caught Zeff looking at him. The horror.

“There’s a boat.”

The off duty chef couldn’t help but tense when Sanji abruptly broke the silence. Looking over at him again, the boy had propped himself up and was pointing. Shifting his focus to where he was motioning to, he saw what Sanji was talking about.

A small boat was slowly drifting past them. It was far too small to be a legitimate sea faring vessel. A lifeboat, perhaps? Had there been a shipwreck nearby? If there was anyone in it, he couldn’t see them. It’s still light out. If they were lost at sea, they should be up and actively trying to call for help. The only reason there wouldn’t be anyone in sight is either because the boat is empty and had simply drifted off on its own.

Or if whoever was in it was already gone.

Sanji suddenly leapt to his feet, “There’s someone in there! I can see a hand!”

A hand? Zeff squinted, internally cursing his aging vision. Just barely peeking over the edge of the boat was the hand Sanji was talking about. Some fingers limply hung off the edge, showing no signs of movement. Zeff really didn’t like that.

Sanji hopped on one foot while ripping off his shoes and was just about to leap into the water when Zeff caught his arm, “Don’t. I’ll go check on them, you go tell the others.”

The boy’s eyes flickered down to his leg, “But-”

“Go. I’m sure that person is hungry, tell Patty to make them something nice,” Zeff’s tone left no room for argument, and Sanji knew better than to push it. He sped off for the Baratie, his previously discarded shoes forgotten in his hurry.

It would be for the best if Sanji wasn’t here to see this if the stranger in the boat was indeed deceased. There was no telling how long they’ve been there, and Sanji did not need to see that.

After reeling in the fishing line, he tossed it to the side and got to work on unbuckling the straps for his prosthetic. He pulled the peg leg off and propped it up against the chair. Using the armrests, he stood on his remaining leg, then dove into the sea.

The water was cold, but not debilitatingly so. Zeff had no trouble cutting through the mild waves, his lack of one of his limbs had done little to slow him down. The lifeboat wasn’t far off, it won’t take him long to close the gap.

Once he was close enough to be heard, he called out, “Are you alright in there?”

The flapping of wings, followed by some birds flying away from the boat was the only response he received. His heart sank. Maybe those birds were only there to rest, but it was unlikely that they would be bold enough to do so if someone was there to shoo them away.

Then the smell hit him. The musty, putrid, and sickeningly sweet scent of death. Before even making contact with the boat, he knew that it was already too late for whoever was on it.

Still, he forced himself to go the rest of the way. Whoever this was deserved a proper burial after what was likely an agonizing death.

Finally, he was at the boat. His hands grabbed onto the side of the boat, the unidentified person’s hand was directly next to his left hand. Steeling himself for what he was about to see, he hauled himself up. If it wasn’t for his rough history, the sight would have left him sick.

Based on the clothing, he could assume the deceased had been a woman. There wasn’t much else for him to go off of. Sea birds had been eating away at her flesh. They would start at the face, the skin was easiest to get through there, and after that they would work their way down. Her face was gone, every strip of meat had been ripped off and left nothing but a blood soaked skull in its wake. The birds had made decent progress down to the chest after that, a couple hours more and they would have gotten to the organs.

If he had to guess, he would say she hasn’t been dead that long. Birds work quickly, and the wounds are all very fresh. She was probably still alive yesterday.

Zeff heaved himself up onto the boat, doing his best to avoid disturbing the body. Empty food tins crunched loudly under his weight as he army crawled onboard. The rocking of the boat dislodged the woman’s sunburnt hand from its perch. Rather than falling limp, the muscles remained stiff, fingers clenched as if they were still holding on to something.

Under no circumstances could he let Sanji see this. His eyes darted around the boat for something to cover at least her face with. He would use his shirt if he had to. There was a turned over crate with a tarp covering it. Perfect. It would be more than big enough to wrap around her entire body. Why she hadn’t used it for protection from the sun was beyond him, but there was really no use questioning it now.

The tarp was ripped off the box unceremoniously, and Zeff was frankly eager to get the body covered. Just because he could handle the sight didn’t mean he particularly wanted to see it.

There was something in the box. No. Someone.

A baby, and it isn’t moving.

Zeff forgot about the tarp in an instant and lurched forward to pull the baby out of its hiding place. You were underweight, that much was notable off the bat. Cradling your weak form carefully, he held you up to his face and pressed an ear against your chest.

thump thump thump

The relief that went through him was indescribable. You were weak, but alive. As bad as your given condition may be, your lack of energy was likely the only reason the birds hadn’t noticed you. He set you down in his lap and scrambled to get the oars into the water and get paddling. There was no telling how little time you had left.

“It’s going to be okay. We’ll puree some of the best baby food you’ve ever had as soon as we get back to the Baratie.” It was debatable if he was saying this to reassure you or himself. It was barely audible, but he heard a small grunt. Looking down, he saw your face pinch as you attempted to open your eyes with what little energy you had left. “That’s it. Keep fighting, kid.”

Fortunately for you, the dock wasn’t far away, it would only take a couple of minutes before you would be out of the scorching sun and in the restaurant. Several of his workers were already waiting for him at the dock, one of them being Sanji.

Shit! He forgot to cover up the body of who he now presumed to be your mother. Setting down the oar, he pulled the tarp over her head and did his best to make sure it wouldn’t come loose. “Sanji, go inside and help in the kitchen!”

It looked like he was trying to argue, but the other cooks shut it down. From their grim expressions, it appeared that they already knew why Zeff would be so insistent on Sanji not being here for this. The kid scowled, but ultimately turned to leave, stomping his way to the restaurant.

Zeff paddled as fast as he could, praying that his efforts wouldn’t be in vain.

—

The time from when Zeff docked to now had been a whirlwind. Everyone had been prepared for a dead body, but had gone into a tizzy upon realizing there was also a survivor. A very young one at that.

Fortunately, you appeared to be old enough to eat solid food, and had been eager to do so once you’d gotten your wits about you. Apparently they hadn’t been feeding you fast enough, so you tried to take matters into your own hands by snatching the spoon out of theirs. For as weak as you’d looked on the boat, it seems your health hadn’t deteriorated as much as he’d initially thought. Your mother must have been giving the bulk of the food she had to you.

As for the deceased mother, there wasn’t much they could do about her. Ships went missing all the time, figuring out which one she had specifically come from would be near impossible. Even if they did… it would be difficult for anyone to identify her. As sad as it was, giving her a burial at sea was the best they could do.

They can only hope that she will be able to rest peacefully now that her baby is safe.

After giving you a much needed bath and clothing you in one of Sanji’s old shirts, you were happily sitting in a basket they’d stuffed some blankets into for padding. The shirt was dramatically too big for you, but it would have to do until proper clothes could be picked up.

Taking in an infant had hardly been something that Zeff planned to do today, but he saw few other options. If he couldn’t figure out who your mother was, what chance did he have at identifying you and tracking down surviving family members? Sure, this situation was what orphanages were there for, but he couldn’t bring himself to abandon you at one. After everything you’ve been through, you deserve to have a good roof over your head, and such a thing is hardly a guarantee at one of those.

“Where is the other person?”

Zeff looked up from the catalog he’d been flipping through at Sanji’s inquiry. Admittedly, he’d been hoping the kid wouldn’t ask about it, however unrealistic that was. He’d been very focused on you since you were brought in. Even now, he was sitting by your basket and letting you play with his hand. Ah, they would need to pick up some toys for you next time they went to shore, too.

The pause was too long for Sanji’s liking, so he continued, “That hand I saw was too big to be theirs.”

Of course he’d notice the discrepancy. While Sanji was far from being a stranger to horrors and hardships, Zeff still did not want to disclose the details of what he saw to him. “The other person was already dead. We had no way of knowing where she came from so she was buried at sea.”

“Was she their mother?” Sanji turned to look at Zeff.

“More than likely,” was his simple response.

Sanji bit his lip and abruptly looked away, then back at the baby. Silence hung in the air a while longer before he spoke up again, “So they’re all alone now?”

“I wouldn’t say that. They’ve got all of us, don’t they? I expect that you’ll help take care of them since you were the one that spotted the boat they were in.” Zeff glanced over the list of baby supplies he’d made. Content with what he saw, he stood from the table. Now he needed to take account of what food they had in stock and make that list next. “Keep an eye on them while I finish making the list.”

He heard a hum of affirmation and considered that good enough before making his exit. The pantry wasn’t far, he’ll be able to hear you if you start fussing. Besides, Sanji’s a good kid. He can handle watching a baby for a few minutes.

You’re going to need a name, he supposes. Can’t keep calling you ‘the baby’ forever. Oh well, he’s sure a name will come to him soon enough.

It didn’t take long to make note of what food they needed, which wasn’t much. They weren’t due for another grocery run for a few more days yet, but there were some supplies for you that they simply couldn’t go without in the meantime. He’ll set out bright and early tomorrow, you won’t have to wait for long.

Zeff came back into the kitchen, only to find it empty. This wasn’t immediately concerning to him. The only people on the Baratie were his staff, and he knew none of them posed any danger. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder where you’d gone off to. Even the basket was missing.

Might as well look around, to sate his curiosity if nothing else.

The first place he checked was the dining room, but that turned up nothing besides a couple of workers repairing a table that had been broken in a scuffle earlier that day. Maybe someone had taken you out to the outdoor seating area for some fresh air? He was on his way to go and look when he heard a muffled voice. It was coming from Sanji’s room.

The door was cracked open just enough for Zeff to be able to peer in.

“And this one is blue-finned elephant tuna. See how it’s got tusks and a feeler that looks like a trunk? It’s supposed to taste really good!”

Sanji was seated behind your basket and used it to prop up the book he was showing you. The book seemed to be holding your attention. You were taking in the pictures with wide eyes while gnawing on one of your fists. Sanji’s enthusiasm appeared to be rubbing off on you, making you let out little coos as he spoke to you in depth about the fish.

The next page was turned to, and he continued excitedly rambling, “This one is a sandora catfish. They’re carnivorous and huge! I bet it would be really good fried and with a cream sauce.”

It would seem that you liked the sound of that. The hand that had previously been in your mouth suddenly went forward and grasped at the page.

“Ack! Hey, don’t get drool on it! It’s not even food yet,” Sanji mumbled the last part. He’d been able to pull the book away without you tearing a page and was trying to wipe off the drool you’d smeared across the page.

His scolding had little effect, you giggled loudly at his outburst and were doing your best to turn around and continue your assault on his book.

Zeff quietly chuckled to himself as you succeeded in grabbing the book again. It seems you two were getting along well, he’ll leave you be for now.

#one piece x reader #one piece #sanji #black leg sanji #red leg zeff #x reader #reader insert

293 notes · View notes

joelalorian · 18 days

Text

Tides of Desire - Epilogue

*mood board by the lovely @janaispunk. divider by the equally lovely @saradika-graphics

Pairing: Yacht Captain!Joel Miller x f!reader

Series Summary: TLOU no outbreak AU. Joel Miller is a luxury yacht captain running charters in the Caribbean. You join the crew as a deckhand and unexpectedly complicate Joel's peaceful existence. Basically the TLOU bunch on a Below Deck yacht.

Chapter warnings: 18+ MDNI. Fluff, smut, unprotected p in v (they're in a committed relationship). Smallish age gap (reader is 32 or so, Joel is 40). No use of y/n, though reader is of British descent and has the nickname Brit (occasionally used). Chapter names are nautical phrases.

a/n: This tale has come to its nautical end, docking in the harbor of happily ever after for these two. I was stuck for a long while on quite how to finish this off and I'm relieved to have finally done it. Hope you enjoy and thank you for coming along on this high seas adventure with me!

Masterlist

Three months after the season ended, you pulled into a half-moon driveway, in front of a beautifully landscaped two-story home on three acres of land in the outskirts of Austin with every possession you owned tightly packed into your ride. You and Joel spent a lot of time together after the season ended, making certain that what you shared was much more than just a boat-mance. It didn’t take long to confirm that neither of you had any doubts left – what you had was as real as it got.

The Millers and Ellie were at the door and running down the porch steps to greet you before the car even stopped moving. The four of you shared deliriously happy grins as you got out of the car after the long drive from Florida.

“You made it!” Sarah greeted, throwing her lanky arms around your neck for a long hug. Ellie quickly followed suit, throwing her arms around your waist. Joel met your gaze, his chocolate eyes full of love and warmth at the sight of his favorite people so happy to see each other.

Breaking free from the young women, you turned to embrace Joel. His broad frame wrapped around you in a bear hug, squeezing just enough without hurting you. The scruff along his jaw gently scratched against your neck and cheeks as he peppered your face with kisses.

“Mmm, I missed you,” he breathed in your ear, the little puffs of air tickling the sensitive skin.

“I was only gone a week,” you laughed in response.

“Don’t care. It was too long, and I missed you.” Stepping back, Joel brushed his pouty lips against yours in a chaste kiss as the girls groaned teasingly. “Come on, let’s unload this mess so you can finally settle in and relax. Welcome to your new home, baby.”

It took only an hour to have you officially moved in with Joel and Sarah. Living the nomad lifestyle for the past several years had its benefits when it came to moving – you sold most everything that wasn’t a necessity or held some kind of sentimental value – and you were settled right into their home and lives without too much fuss.

After putting your things away – Joel cleared out half the space of the large walk-in closet and made other space throughout the home for your belongings – you settled for grabbing an ice-cold beer from the fridge knowing you’d fall asleep if you sat down.

The beer went down smoothly, soothing the dryness of your throat as well as the achiness in your bones from driving for so long. Joel leant back against the kitchen island, chocolate eyes drinking you in from head to toe like a man dying of thirst. A flash of heat swept through you, settling in your cheeks and ears. It had only been a week since you’d seen him, but the ache for him pulsed as if it’d been months.

“We’re heading to San Antonio, Dad!” Sarah called, tripping down the stairs with a small tote. Stopping at the bottom of the stairs to find you and Joel staring at each other, she shared a knowing look with Ellie. “Yeah, we’re gonna give you two a few days to get through the honeymoon phase. Glad you’re hear, Brit! See ya!”

Grinning broadly, Ellie added, “Don’t burn down the house and use protection, kids!” The young women were out the door, giggling madly, before either of you could respond.

The moment the door closed behind them, Joel pounced.

His need for you so great, he didn’t bother leading you upstairs to your newly shared bedroom. Instead, he took you right there in the kitchen, your body pressed forward over the counter as he practically ripped your shorts and panties down your hips. His own quickly followed, tee shirt coming off as well so it wouldn’t get in the way. Hand pressed into your lower back, Joel leant back, spit into his other hand to lube himself up, and watched as his hardened length sunk into your depths with a guttural groan.

“Fuck, sweetheart. How does that feel?”

Hips thrusting against your backside, thick cock going so deep and hitting just the right spots at this angle, you mewled in response. Your eyes rolled back in pleasure even as the counter’s edge dug into your skin painfully with each hard stroke.

“Use your words, baby. I missed your voice just as much as I missed those sweet little sounds you make.”

You twisted your torso a little to look at Joel over your shoulder. Holy hell, did he make the sexiest sight. A sheen of sweat already built up along his forehead, curls falling forward to stick to the damp skin with each movement. His face a mix of concentration and overwhelming pleasure as he stared back at you.

“Feels so fucking good, Joel. Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.”

It didn’t take long for Joel’s thrusts to become sloppy, his need after a week apart left him teetering on the edge in short order. His body and mind had become so acquainted with yours so quickly that time apart was nearly unbearable. Bending over you, he murmured filthy things in your ear, causing a line of gooseflesh to rise along your skin, each word like a bolt of pleasure straight to your clit.

Within minutes, you came with a drawn-out shout of his name, taking advantage of the empty house to be as loud as you wanted. Joel worked you through it until the aftershocks became too much for him and he spilled inside you, your name a falling in an overstimulated whimper from his lips.

The pair of you stayed perched over the counter for several minutes, allowing your breaths and heart rates to return to normal as Joel’s cock remained inside you. When he finally softened and slipped out of your wrecked pussy, he stepped back and helped you stand upright on shaky legs.

Body trembling from the heady mix of exhaustion and the lingering effects of a mind-blowing orgasm, you let Joel lead you upstairs, your shorts and panties left forgotten on the kitchen floor. He tucked you into the bed you now shared – your mind still stuck on the fact that you now lived together – and climbed in beside you, wrapping his arms around you so you could nap securely in his embrace.

Days turned into weeks, which turned into months as you adapted to Joel’s off-season routine and developed your own rhythm in this new life you shared with him. Ellie and Sarah would come and go as they pleased, spending time with friends and taking online courses to complete their undergraduate degrees, leaving the two of you on your own with the occasional visit from Tommy.

Much of your time in those first few months were spent learning the ins and outs of captaincy with Joel’s guidance. His home office contained a plethora of resources for you to read and review and he would quiz you on different aspects of the job. You were well on your way to being ready for the captain’s exam by the time you enrolled in a training course, which you took while Joel worked a few contracting side jobs.

Before you both knew it, another yachting season arrived, and you were back on a boat with your favorite people. Navigating an established relationship with the captain was a completely different adventure as the two of you figured out how to keep it professional yet still have time together. Needless to say, you stayed in Joel’s quarters most nights despite technically having your own assigned bunk with Tess again.

For the first time in longer than you could remember, you woke up happy everyday and faced your beautiful live with the gratitude it deserved. You were blessed to have the love of a wonderful man, a fascinating career, and the best friends a girl could ask for.

Life was good, really fucking good.

fin

#joel miller #joel x reader #joel x female reader #yacht captain!joel miller #tlou #the last of us #pedro pascal #fanfic #fanfiction #joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #joel miller series #joel miller story #pedrostories #joel x f!reader #tides of desire

59 notes · View notes

baurbiediv · 1 year

Text

hate to be lame {2}

PAIRING ➔ jj maybank x pogue!reader, jj x kiara (oops.)

WARNING(S) ➔ small mention of cheating, crying

SYNOPSIS ➔ tensions begin to face an all time high following the aftermath of you and jj’s argument, things become very rocky and you worry that he’s began to fall out of love with you and has found someone else who’s better for him.

BASED OFF THE SONG ‘hate to be lame’ by lizzy mcalpine (i recommended listening while reading!)

part one ➔ here

A/N ➔ thank you for all the love on capsize + the first part of this! and i am NOT A KIARA ANTI YALL PLEASE, that’s my girl fr

two weeks.

a whole two weeks had passed by since a word was spoken to jj and to make things worse, it was an argument. one thing the both of you agreed on was to never be mad at each other, clearly that didn’t work out.

trying to get jj to understand what he did was reckless didn’t quite go the way you expected it to. emotions got the best of you, and resulted in you emotionally lashing out on him.

ultimately, this caused jj to retaliate but before you could say anything else, it was already too late. by then he’d already told you to get out, there wasn’t anything else that could’ve possibly been said or done to change the outcome of this.

so now here you were, right back at the chateau. looking out the window, there he was, jj. the yellow and orange hue of the peaking sunset hitting his skin almost perfectly. how badly you wanted to get up and tell him that you love him and you were sorry and that the accident caused you to freak out and you could get pass this.

but it wasn’t that easy, whenever something like this happens, he starts to push away. not because he wants to, but because that’s what he’s used to, when he loves someone too much, he pushes people out. this wasn’t easy like people had always said, jj wasn’t the easiest person to read yet you already knew that.

you watched as kiara, pope, sarah, and jj all gathered onto the dock laughing while john b made his way back to the chateau. “y/n, you coming along? i’d hate to leave you by yourself.” he said, snapping you out your thoughts.

“oh, yeah let me grab my bag.” you told him, for the first time in a couple of weeks john b was probably the first person to see you even remotely crack a small smile. he gave you a thumbs up before leaving the house. without noticing, you’d been playing with the star pendant on your necklace.

it was the sole purpose that reminded you why the two of you were even together, you were his star that kept its light in the midst of his darkness. but that light was slowly losing it’s shine.

you took a deep breath before recollecting your thoughts and making your way down to the dock. noticing how kiara had stood very closely to jj, you swallowed the impending lump in your throat, that jello feeling taking over your body this time.

pope noticed as he looked at you, “you okay y/n?” he asked you worriedly, you gave him a nod, “i’m alright, thank you pope.” you whispered as he helped you board the boat. after what seemed like minutes, the boat finally took off and the group searched for a place to stop and relax.

everyone seemed to be having fun, except you. the thing is, it wasn’t on purpose, this is how you were feeling. you tried to cheer yourself up but it wasn’t working. your own boyfriend didn’t seem to care about the upset mood you were in, hell, two weeks. no texts, no calls, no nothing.

you watched the way kiara and jj interacted with each other. looks and touches lingering longer than they were supposed to, jokes being exchanged between the two.

you weren’t jealous, but kiara knew what had happened between the two of you, why were they all of a sudden closer (as if they weren’t already close.) together.

staying on the boat, you watched as everyone jumped into the water. you covered yourself in your jacket and the emotions has finally overcome you. the tears kept coming, you poorly attempted to keep your sobs quiet in hopes to not draw attention to yourself.

everything happened all at once and way too fast. during these two weeks, this was the reason why he wasn’t reaching out.

because he found someone better, someone who could be there for him. you were always there when he needed you, the one he turned to whenever he had problems with his father, or himself.

the girl he was supposed to confide in the most. all the love, all the time, all the joy, spent with you had gone to waste. and over a stupid argument that could have been prevented.

god how you wished to just disappear into thin air right now.

—

you found yourself sitting alone in the chateau again, and watching the group all gather around a small bonfire. kiara, closely wrapped around jj. never did the feeling of betrayal feel so raw right now. you looked away and felt your body sink lower into the couch.

the door swung open, to your dismay, jj. the blond boy saw your figure but didn’t meet eye contact with you. he made his way to the kitchen, this was your opportunity to talk to him. gathering your tired limbs you too, made your way into the kitchen.

it was fairly small, so there wasn’t anyway you’d be standing far from him. “j, can we please talk?” you asked him, his back turned to you. his body tensed at the sound of your frail voice. he turned around to finally face you.

you missed his face.

some cuts from past adventures were now healing. “yeah.. what do you want to talk about?” he said leaning against the counter.

“us. what are we?” you looked at him.

he sighed, not being prepared for this confrontation.

“you haven’t spoken to me in two weeks. i’m losing my mind here j. i know i shouldn’t have lashed out on you, i’m sorry.” you said, shifting your weight between both of your feet.

jj ran his hands through his hair as he let out a frustrated sigh, “i’m sorry y/n. i really am,” he breathed out, eyes landing on the chain he bought you, you still kept it on.

“i pushed you away because i fucked up. a couple days after the argument, i told kiara everything. my head was everywhere and .. and we made out.” he told you.

way to go.

your heart quite literally felt like it just got ripped out right of your chest and stomped on. you leaned against the counter and put your hands on both sides on your face before bringing them down to your mouth.

jj looked at you, his eyes full of worry and sorrow. he hates that he did this to himself, to you.

“did you do anything else?” you quickly got out not wanting to avoid any more hurt.

“no. absolutely not.” he breathed out.

you ultimately broke down and he pulled you into a hug. “y/n. i’m so sorry, it meant nothing.” he spoke softly as he kissed the top of your head. you cried as much as your heart would let you right into his chest.

“i’m so fucking sorry i didn’t anything sooner. i couldn’t bring myself to tell you. i knew we left on bad terms and i didn’t want to make it worse, i’m so sorry my love.” he said rubbing your back.

“jj.” you said, lifting your head from his chest. you calling his name alone was enough to grab his attention.

“don’t ever do this again. from now on we tell each other everything. you have to start trusting me, i can’t have you pushing me away. not then, not now, not ever.” your eyes glossy.

he nodded, you hugged him tightly as he rocked you side to side.

you were his star that kept its light in the midst of his darkness.

—

#jj maybank fic #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank angst #jj maybank x you #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank #jj maybank x pogue!reader

458 notes · View notes

viiiiiiiiiin · 3 months

Text

Sent to Heaven: Shanks x Strawhat!Reader

Includes: Shanks , Red Haired Pirates , GN Reader

Important Info: The reader is the mixologist of the Strawhats. This story happens pre - timeskip , precisely a bit after the events at Sabaody. Reader was sent to an island that is famous for its alcohol and such , which is where they meet Shanks

A / N: sorry this took so long !! If yall want me to continue this , lmk.

You had been in the air for days. Way too long , if you had to give your own opinion. The last thing you remembered was the fight at the Sabaody Archipelago. Speaking of , you wondered if the rest of your crew was okay.

You were knocked unconscious by Kuma. He was the reason you were sent flying. You didn't know where you were going , or if you were even going to survive. You were starving , dehydrated , and exhausted. You were even still very , very injured. Blood coated the bottom of the paw bubble you resided in.

As if a miracle was placed upon you , an island came into sight. The bubble started decending towards the island , so you prepared yourself for the impact. Your little trap smashed into the ground and took the blunt of the blow. Though , the wind was still knocked out of your lungs.

You started coughing violently as you rolled over and spit blood on the cold , hard ground. "Fuckin' . . ." You trailed off , grumbling under your breath. You struggled to get yourself to your scraped knees.

While you struggled , a small crowd formed around you. People whispered and stared at your injured form. Your eyes trailed over to a woman and a child. The woman wore nurse scrubs and had a bag on her arm. You sighed and tried to speak. Instead of words , your throat burned from the blood from previous wounds.

Despite the pain , you croaked out a plea for help. "Please , I need a boat. I need to go back to Sabaody." You spoke , gritting your teeth. The woman turned from you and the child started crying.

After a few minutes , you started to lose hope. Nobody was going to help you or give you a boat. Suddenly , a smooth voice cut through the thick tension between you and the residents. "Why would you need to go there ?" The voice belonged to a male. You wished that you could lift your head to see him , but you fell into unconsciousness from the mass loss of blood.

---

". . . kin' up." Was the first thing you heard as your eyes slowly opened. You took a moment to stare at the blank ceiling in an attempt to figure out where you were. Your heavy eyelids , after a bit of force , stayed open.

By the feeling of the place , you were on a ship. Were they taking you to Sabaody ? You shot up , but you were quickly shocked with the amount of pain in your body. It felt like a thousand pans had rained upon your head and now it was pounding violently. You didn't know how you didn't realize the pain towards the front of your head , but you sure did now. Instead of groaning about it , you chose to ignore it.

You looked down and noticed that you had been changed. Your previous wounds were either stitched up and covered , or just covered. Your chest was wrapped in a bandage since the biggest wound was across there , and your broken ankle was suspended in the air. You blinked and noticed a tall , blonde haired male in the corner.

"So , you're awake." He spoke , a smirk on his face. "My name is Hongo. You were pretty beatin' up back there , mind tellin' me what happened ?" He asked as he sat down on the chair next to your bed.

Your mouth opened and shut like a fish out of water. Your throat burned as if there were needles stabbed into it. Despite this , you forced yourself to speak. "Fight on Sabaody. I have to get . . get back to my crew." You croaked in a hoarse voice. You flinched as you felt him take off the bandages from your arm.

"Relax , I'm just changing your bandages. You were out for a while." He said smoothly as he reached for the roll on the desk next to you. You watched him carefully . . Until you realized what he said.

Your eyes widened , mouth widening along with them. "A while ?? How long was a while ??" You panicked. God damnit , what if they were fighting off people at Sabaody while waiting for you ?!! You had to get there.

He thought for a moment. Though in thought , he didn't stop changing your bloodied wrap. "About 2 weeks. You had lost a lot of blood. You have a serious wound on your chest. If it had cut any deeper , you would have been dead. It's actually a miracle that you survived losing all of that blood." He informed smoothly , scrunching his nose as he finished off the wrap.

"2 weeks ??! Fuck , fuck , fuck. I've got to get back to Luffy." You began rambling about things you didn't even know , but Hongo was caught on one detail.

"Hold on a second ! Did you say Luffy ? As in Monkey D. Luffy ?" He asked , a smile now present on his pale face.

You sighed and nodded , attempting to relax. He laughed and stood up. "Our captain is good buds with Luffy ! Let me go get you some tea for your throat and fetch him for ya." He winked and walked out of the dimly lit office. You blinked and stared at the ajar door. Before you tried to stand , you heard him yell to you. "Don't leave the bed ! If you do , your ankle will pop back out of place and you won't be able to use it again !"

You flinched and stopped taking the sheets off of your battered body. You groaned and rolled to your side , though it was painful. You decided to take a little nap while waiting. A little shut eye couldn't hurt.

---

You woke up to some unfamiliar voices. As if on instinct , you shot up , wide eyed , and stared at all of them. They were surprised that you woke up so fast , but they didn't say anything about it. "So , you're on Luffy's crew ?" You heard from your side. You turned your eyes to the man and observed him. He had red hair , brown eyes , and a stubble. You had to admit that he was quite attractive.

"Yeah. I'm the mixologist of his crew." You said bluntly as you wiped the sweat from off of your forehead. "Then you might wanna see this." Another male said from behind the red haired man. He had gray hair and a cigarette in his mouth. He placed a newspaper in front of you. 2 of them , actually. One was from . . The war ? And the other was what Luffy did after.

You looked at the 1st one and skimmed over it. You turned to see your captain , seemingly in a state of shock and depression. Your eyes widened as you saw the big bold letters that read: "Fire Fist Ace , Executed" or something along those lines. You dropped the paper and covered your mouth.

"Take me to him. Please , I need to be there for him. He needs someone to be by his side during this time." You demanded after a small bit of recovery. Beck shook his head and pointed to the other paper. You picked it up and saw your captain again. He seemed to be alive and well , but you noticed something on his arm.

2Y.

You knew what it meant. Your anxiety faded as you made the realization. You sighed softly and smiled. "Nevermind. Thank you for showing me these." You bowed your head a bit and struggled to get up.

"If you wouldn't mind me asking , what island are we docked at ?" You asked while staring at the men in front of you. "Bebida Gallows. It's an island famous for its alcohol. I'm sure you can guess why we're here." Benn answered calmly , crossing his arms and leaning against the wall behind him.

You looked between the two of them and decided to introduce yourself. "My name is Reader. I'd like to request to fight along side you for a while. I want to train and get stronger so I can protect my captain. He does so much for us . . I have to return the favor. I won't let what happened at Sabaody happen EVER again." You declared with a fierce look flares up in you [color] colored eyes. It seems the others noticed.

"Protectin' Luffy , eh ? I can't say no to that. He needs a nice crew if he's going to be the king of the pirates." The red haired captain laughed. You knew him from somewhere , but you couldn't put your finger on it. "I'm Shanks. This 'ere is Beckman." Shanks introduced. "And this 'ere is Hongo. He was the one that took care o' ya." He put his arm around his first mate and smiled widely.

"Alright. Thank you for being able to train me." You bowed your head once more and caused the other men in the room to laugh.

---

It had been a year since you've been training with the Red Haired Pirates. You stayed on the island while they would leave , then come back. You honed any skills they taught you , while also updating your alcohol mixes. You learned a lot from those Pirates and even the people of the island.

Turns out , Shanks owns this bit of land. He has his flag flying high , protecting the people. You found it charming. You also noticed that during your training sessions , you've developed feelings for him. Rather it be because of how he was so gentle with you , his charisma , his kindness , or how he flirted with you. It all mixed together , like a drink.

Anytime you stirred one of your new drinks , you would think of him. The feeling of the stirring I'd very similar to how his presence makes your stomach feel.

Along with him , your crewmates made their way into your mind. Any time you had free , you would make their favorite drinks.

Milk Punch Cocktail for Luffy. You made it with milk , the spirit , sugar , and vanilla extract. Luffy always asked for extra vanilla extract , so you complied.

A large , Toji Moon for Zoro. Its base is made with Benedictine , yuzu and lemon juices , red bean syrup , and yuzu marmelade , which all gets topped with a frothy mix of nigori sake and egg white that's been shaken until foamy , plus a dusting of grated nutmeg. This was one of your harder sake mixes to make , but Zoro seemed to love it.

A Tangerine Dream for Nami. It's made of ginger liqueur , tangerine , tangerine juice , sugar , and lemon juice. It tasted more like a tangerine drink than an alcoholic one , which may be why Nami enjoyed it so much.

Apple Pie on Rocks for Usopp. It's made of vanilla vodka , fireball whiskey , apple juice , apple cider , carmel apple syrup , and champagne. You knew he had one of the higher tolerances of the crew , so this was something you suggested for him. Once he tried it , he LOVED it.

A Hot Ted Toddy for Sanji. It's made of honey , lemon , dark rum , cognac , black tea , and cloves. You tried this drink because it includes black tea , Sanji's favorite drink. Once he tried it , he fell in love with it.

There were so many more , but these are the first few you learned. They came to you naturally , and you found yourself making them unconsciously. You even made them for the Red Haired Pirates , who enjoyed them a lot.

---

It had been 2 years. 2 long , grueling years. You've learned so much since then. What haki was , what the government does , and so much more. One of those things was how you were attracted to red heads.

You trained with the Red Haired pirates. You ended up even developing a fondness for their captain. He was just so giddy and reminded you so , so much of your own captain.

That's why departing hurt you and him so much. You arrived on Sabaody a few days earlier than everyone else because Shanks and his crew didn't want to be seen by yours.

You knew you couldn't tell Shanks how you felt. Neither of you had the time to be in love , especially with this generation. You were ready to meet him in the New World , however. You 2 would have to be patient.

As Luffy returns the Straw Hat , you will get to finally be with the man you fell in love with under 2 years. The man who trained you , the man who showed you what the world was truly like. You'd never forget him.

119 notes · View notes

ln4babygirl · 5 months

Text

LN4 x reader 🔥

Sharing his girlfriend series part 1

Reference to Charles and Pierre, Charles invites you and your boyfriend Lando to the club after an awkward FaceTime call

~I had just got back from shopping with Lando when he got a phone call from Charles, these phone calls normally go on for a while so I started to put the shopping away as Lando laughed down the phone with his friend. Once I had finished putting the shopping away I decided to run myself a bath to relax and wash away the day. It had been about 15 minutes since I’d got in the bath when Lando started shouting my name so I told him I was in the bathroom, what I didn’t expect was for Lando to walk in still on the phone to Charles, I gave him a look as if to say why do you need me and he smiled back at me asking if we wanted to join some of the guys on a night out. Once he’d agreed a time with Charles I realised I needed to get out of the bath to start getting ready the only thing I didn’t realise was that Lando had changed to a FaceTime with Charles and was now on our bed with his back to me. As I walked out of the bathroom with a towel that barely covered me with my boobs nearly spilling out the top and the curve of my bottom out of the bottom I heard a cough. Lando had turned around to face me and I asked him what was wrong, with a smirk on his face he turned his phone around to show me that he was on FaceTime to Charles who had clearly just seen me walking around practically showing him my boobs. I screeched and reached for anything to try and cover up whilst asking Lando why he was still on FaceTime whilst I’m in this condition. He laughed it off and said it wasn’t like it’s something Charles hasn’t seen before, I thought he meant boobs in general but the way they both snickered made me think it might have meant more but I decided to let it go, at the end of the day we have all been on the boat together and my bikinis don’t exactly leave much to the imagination.

. You jumped into the taxi he had called and made your way to the club, as you were getting out he gave you a smack on the bum and winked at you as he wrapped his arm around your waist to guide you into the club. You both first headed to the bar to order yourself a drink and a couple of shots to help you catch up to your friends that had arrived before you, as you slammed your shot back down onto the bar you saw Charles walking up to you both with Pierre at his side. You felt your cheeks heat up thinking about the FaceTime call incident earlier in the evening and Lando put his arm back around your waist pulling you further into him. Pierre was the first to greet you and then gave Lando a fist bump as all the drivers seem to do as a greeting, you then looked over at Charles who gave you a quick hug to say hi and as he pulled away gave you a cheeky wink. You didn’t know if it was the alcohol making you feel all hot and bothered by this but you starter to squirm a bit which Lando noticed and asked if you were okay, you replied with a quick and quiet yes whilst feeling Charles’ gaze on you. You all went over to join the rest of the friends who had come out tonight at the private booth Max had got for everyone. Ten minutes later you needed to go to the toilet and slipped out of the booth, what you really needed was to cool yourself down as you couldn’t get Charles off your mind

as you walked back you noticed Charles now sat on the end with Lando next to him but Danny had now joined the group so there was no designated seat left for you, Lando could sense your nerves around this and told you to squeeze over Charles’ knee and sit on his lap. This seemed like a brilliant plan until you were basically grinding across Charles to get to your boyfriend and as the alcohol was taking its effect making you a bit unsteady you felt a pair of foreign hands on your waist helping you keep your balance. You turned around to thanks Charles who have you a squeeze and winked at you once again. You sat down on landos knee and he suggested putting your legs across Charles as there wasn’t much leg room. Next thing you knew your legs were being grabbed and your body turned so that you were now practically lying across both the boys. You wiggled a bit to get comfy and heard your boyfriend groan into your ear giggling you kissed him and said sorry, he pulled you closer to him and advised that you stay still unless you wanted to be bent over this table for everyone to see. Charles could feel your thighs tighten and he dropped his hand to rest one on your leg whilst talking to someone across the table. You were in your own little world sucking on your straw when you felt Lando leaning across to Charles to have a conversation, you leant forward trying to join in and saw Charles lower his eyes to your chest. Lando must have noticed too has he chucked and went to grab your left boob whilst Charles was still watching, you could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter and they could both sense this as you started to squirm more on their laps. Lando started to feel sorry for you and suggested going home as you both had stuff to do the following day, you quickly agreed as you could feel the tension rising in your stomach and as you were trying to work out the best way to get out of the booth Charles lifted you onto his lap so you were sitting sideways, he chuckled again at your nerves and whispered into your ear saying how nice it was to see you this evening and he didn’t forget to add on that it was nice to see you fully dressed this time. He put his hand on your waist to help you up and then stepped out of the booth to allow Lando out, before you left Lando gave Charles another fist bump to say bye and you heard him say he will send him the pictures later- this made you curious but Lando brushed it off when you asked what pictures he was referring to so you walked hand in hand out of the club to get into your taxi. ~

Next part

#ln4 smut #ln4 x reader #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #lando and Charles

64 notes · View notes

strayheartless · 6 months

Text

its been a hot minute since I wrote any Soriku so here have some cute headcanons about my boys:

Riku is silently obsessed with the fact that Sora is smaller than him. if there is an opportunity to put his chin on Sora's head he will do it.

Sora starts struggling with insomnia after Ven, Roxas and Xion vacate his heart, but he is always more than happy to cuddle up with Riku while the other sleeps. A sure fire way to get Sora to relax enough to sleep however is for Riku to play with his hair.

Riku and Sora are the PDA couple. They have boundries obviously, but little kisses; hugs from behind, cuddling, hand holding, pet names; if its cute in a nausiating kind of vau (Roxas' and Kairis words) they will do it.

Sora cooks, Riku... doe not. you'd think Riku is the one to be trusted more in the kitchen but you'd be wrong. Riku has one speciality dish and that is frozen waffles. Sora could cook before meeting Remy but since cooking and baking at the Bistro, he has become pretty damn good.

Riku is the one that deals with technology and machinary. Sora looks at a computer wrong and it brakes. Riku is pretty good with things like coding, and trouble shooting etc. this is because he asked Leon to show him. He didn't really need Cid to teach him how to Fix the gummy ship because he grew up helping his grandad fix motor boats, but he does enjoy talking shop with Cid when they visit Radiant Gardens.

Date nights are usually somewhere fun where they can goof around and not have to worry about fighting. Riku's favorite date however, was when Sora took him to Corona during the festival of lights and they danced the day away and then sent their lanterns flying from the top of a building.

Sora's favorite date was taking Riku to the pride lands and tumbled around the paradice falls for hours just play fighting and curling up to snooze in the sun.

When they do fall asleep together -because of Riku's dream eater power- they usually share a dream scape. most of the time dreams are pretty chill, but sometimes Sora has really weird dreams that Riku would actually think were drug induced had he not spent the entire day with his boyfriend.

Speaking of dream eater Riku, he has a creature form (fight me) that sometimes gets triggered while he's awake and Sora's not. There has been quite a few times Terra has nearly shit himself after hearing a scuttling noise and looked up only to find dream eater Riku scurrying across the cieling like Stitch.

Sora knows exactly the spot under Riku's jaw (both in dream eater form and a s a human) to scritch that has Riku melting into a puddle of Keyblade master.

there! some nice fluffy stuff!

#kingdom hearts #kh1 #kh3 #kh2 #kh sora #kh riku #soriku #soriku headcanons #fluffy headcanons #sora x riku

108 notes · View notes

justmeinatree · 4 months

Text

02 - Astoria : Locked Us On An Island

Summary : you find yourself trapped on a pirate ship, desperate to be saved. or is it the pirate that needs saving …

hope fades away in astoria, i’ll say whatever doesn’t make me stronger kills me

previous part

Word Count : 4.3k

A/N : it’s finally been figured out, this will be a 4 part miniseries !! i hope yall enjoy ✌️

“niall, let me row a bit, please,” you huff.

the last few hours went by in a flash. from following niall up to a lifeboat. to the both of you struggling to do a 3+ person job, as quickly as you could, escaping the endless captivity that was forced upon you for the last week.

the adrenaline seemed to leave your body as instantly as the boat hit the waters below. you felt the panic leaving your bones, your heart rate decreasing for the first time, the weight on your chest waning, your lungs sucking in a solid breath. and although the reality that was the last week, seemed to be settling inside you, exhaustion hitting tenfold, you still were not about to let niall row all the way. christ, he’s saved your life time and time again, the least you could do was this.

“would you just relax,” niall chuckles, shaking his head. “you act like this is my first time rowing off into the night.”

“wait” you exclaim, look of shock stricken on your features, “you’ve seriously done this before ? i thought you’d been on that ship all this time.”

niall laughs, eyes crinkling at the thought of a sedentary pirate, slowing his rowing to look at you properly, “s’my 6th time leaving a crew, darling. really no big deal there, pirates are always getting in scuffles. we’re not exactly the friendliest people. constantly getting thrown out for any number of reasons.”

“i had no idea,” you hum incredulously, shellshocked at the thought of doing such a thing every couple of years from the sounds of it.

“it is, however, my first time with company,” he smiles wide, starting to row again. “you’ve no idea how amazing that is, honestly.”

“umm,” you hum, biting your lip. a thought plaguing your mind since you’d left the not-so-safety of the ship, something you were nervous to bring up, as you were petrified of the answer, “how does this end ? this little lifeboat voyage we’re on, i mean.”

you’d been stressing the idea, the further you seem to be heading into nothingness. although it was nice, the reassurance that niall had done this many times, without seemingly being too scarred from it all. but that doesn’t stop the anxiety all that much. was a boat supposed to just find you ? what if that boat held more pirates ? surely niall couldn’t fight them all off. would you be finding land ? what would that look like ? where would you be ?

“we’re probably about another hour from a little island. can rest up there for a while, then row to the mainland,” he explains as if there wasn’t much to it.

“wha- you know where we are ?” you ask even more confused. who was this man ? he was becoming more and more of a mystery. “how in god’s name could you possibly know ?”

niall laughs again, “christ, no faith in me, you,” he tuts playfully. “rule number one of living at sea, learn your way, take note of your surroundings at all times, and know how to get yourself to safety.”

“but how do you even know where you’re going ? it’s pitch black, no sights to even take in,” you wonder, eyes looking around yourself for any form of reference point. but really, everything was just pure darkness.

niall nods upwards behind you, chin pointing towards the sky, “moon’s rising behind you. we’re going west. and i know where we are because i’ve sailed these seas for over a decade, s’all i know. besides, i’ve been to that island before, one of the other times i’ve had to leave. you’re in luck too, s’one of the nicer ones.”

instinctually, you turn your head, looking up at the sky behind you, noting the crescent moon, working its way up into the sky, niall’s voice piping up to add, “sun’ll be rising soon too. excited to feel that for the first time in a while ?”

“mhmm,” you hum contently at the thought of warmth and proper lighting. it feels like a very welcomed opportunity to properly dry out. everything had been so damp. “you’re really very smart,” you murmur, a little shameful that you’d just expected otherwise due to his career choice.

“you seem surprised,” niall chuckles breathily, smirking playfully at you, as he sees the shyness take over your face, eyes flicking away from his, demeanour curling into yourself. “hey, s’alright. i know pirates aren’t exactly known to be masterminds. and really, m’not.”

“but you know so much,” you’re quick to jump in, not wanting him to belittle himself. honestly, piracy aside, you were genuinely impressed with his smarts. “i could never do what you’re able to do.”

“lets just call it a different kind of smarts,” he smiles at you, “one you’ve never had to even consider before.”

you hum, nodding, contemplating. because he’s right. never had you a need to take note of the moon’s position, or the timing of sunrise, or reference points to find your way to safety. it honestly sounds exhausting. and for a solid moment, you felt bad for him.

you’d always been told that pirates were like the lowest of the low. people that would do nothing but pilfer, rape, destroy, hurt. so far though, niall’s been everything but. he’s been kind, honest, caring, protective. you did not have a crush on a pirate. fuck.

it was important not to forget that he did pilfer. stealing food and beverages for you. some boots and clothes as well. but he’s also done it in pure piracy in the past. hell, he even murdered people. to protect you from being seriously bruised and incredibly hurt. but, again, he’s also killed for no reason other than, you guessed it, piracy.

were those things that you could forgive ? things that were of necessity just as much as it was to keep you safe and comfortable ? that’s where the line blurs isn’t it ? what were you ready to accept ? because not an ounce of his being seems truly bad. fuck, why did any of it matter ? you were not falling for a pirate.

either way, you were quickly jolted, quite literally jolted, from your thoughts, as the little row boat collides with a sandbar, sending both you and niall flying into a whiplash.

“fuck. closer than i thought,” niall mutters under his breath, standing and stretching his arms high above his head, back rolling, muscles loosening.

your gaze was fixated on his lower stomach, shirt ridden up from the stretch, dark tanned skin, tousle of hair leading down into his pants. the whole ordeal was over quickly, as he hops out of the boat, pulling it further up onto the sand.

you were left sitting there, thighs clenching, drool pooling into your mouth that you’re holding shut tight, not wanting him to notice anything. you could not be thinking this way. you could not.

“y’alright there ?” niall chuckles, his hand stretched out in front of you. an offering of sorts, to help you balance yourself as you step out of the small boat. one that you accept graciously, the rocking of the waves jostling you around as you try to stand.

“yeah, sorry. i’ve been distracted,” you explain, shaking your head, shaking the thoughts in your head, more like.

“what’s on your mind ?” he asks, knowing how incredibly difficult this must have been for you so far. he remembers the early days at sea, they weren’t exactly the greatest. can’t imagine doing it all as a lady. one that had to fend for her life on a pirate ship. he definitely has the outmost respect for you, full admiration for someone that’s as headstrong as you’ve been.

“uh- don’t worry about it,” you sigh softly, “just tired, i think. all this is starting to weigh heavily now.”

you were not about to let him in on your true thoughts. not for a second. christ, you didn’t even want to let yourself in on your true thoughts. because you absolutely will not come close to admitting that you’re falling more and more for a pirate.

but really, look at him. with the sun starting to rise, you’re really seeing him properly for the first time. his eyes were piercing blue, accentuated by the brown tan that covers his skin. you’re now also noting that the brown tousles of hair poking out of this bandana turn more and more blonde the further you look from his scalp. another condition brought on by the harsh heat of the sun on the open sea.

he was well built too. muscles outlining his skin, years of hard manual labour clearly having its effects. and as tattered and dirty he was overall, you couldn’t help but wanting to curl up into him. he was he embodiment of safety, warmth, strength. even softness, a benefit to having your skin exposed to salt water. you wanted him. fuck, you wanted every little bit of him.

it was plaguing your mind. had been for a while. maybe this pirate was the silent answer to your prayers. christ, you must be delusional. it’s surely some form of projection. he’s saved your life and protected you more times than anyone else you know. that’s surely all it is. maybe a good warm nap will help you clear all these ridiculous thoughts.

“think i’ll just take a nap if that’s alright with you ?” you hum quietly, looking around yourself to find a spot that would give you enough comfort.

“‘course it’s okay. lemme show you a good spot,” niall smiles, hand tentatively resting on your shoulder in comfort, starting to lead the way, hand falling between both of you, as you stride in time.

it took every ounce of your being not to rest your head against his hand. he was so warm, so comforting, you could cry.

a nap. definitely a nap.

to distract yourself as you follow him, you take in your surroundings. looking at the few palm trees, large open sandy space, nothing but shimmering blue waters as far as the eye can see. but at the moment, you were too tired to really take in how isolated this little island really was, having no choice but to put all of your faith into your pirate man. your beautiful pirate man. fuck.

“here,” niall mutters, head nodding underneath one of the shorter trees, the shade more concise on one spot, soft grass growing beneath. “can use one of the big leaves if you want a makeshift blanket,” he explains, watching you drop down into the comfort of the grass, shuffling into the most comfortable position you can find.

niall looks around, trying to find some sort of anything that could be used as a pillow. when nothing immediately pops out at him, he quickly shuffles himself out of his vest, handing it to you sheepishly, “sorry if it’s dirty and smells bad. but, it’s a bit more comfortable than that giant root.”

he knows you’re used to much nicer things. cleaner things. nicer smelling things. he hates how much his brain is toying with him. you just want to be rescued, surely just to be brought back home and left to forget any of this ever happened. but you’ve rocked his mind more than the smallest boat taking on the largest wave.

you were so strong, so unbothered, so determined, positive, happy. so beautiful. no pirates were ever like that. maybe his stupid brain was just confused. maybe he was just looking to latch onto the first sense of goodness. there’s no way he’d let himself fall for the lady that stumbled onto a pirate’s ship. not because he wouldn’t want to, you were everything to him since the moment his eyes fell on you. you were the little spark of light in his life. a light he hasn’t seen or felt since becoming a pirate. it’s because he was here to make sure you were safe. and once you are, reality would hit.

you would surely go back to whatever it was you were doing. marrying the richest man, if he remembers correctly. that fucking richest man. of course you don’t want someone like niall.

“thanks,” you smile wide, accepting niall’s coat, bunching it up and cozying up to it, humming softly, contently. “really niall, thank you,” you mutter quietly, almost instantly asleep. something about having a little piece of him to curl up to seemed to wash away any and all fears. your beautiful pirate man. dammit.

it was quite a while before you woke up again, the sun now starting to sit low on the west side of the island, clearly making its descent over the little sandbar.

you notice that niall’s sitting just a bit further, closer to the water, fire burning in front of him, something clearly cooking overtop of it if the smell was anything to go by.

as you quickly stretch, you come to a stand, walking over to him, noting the pile of chopped wood next to him, “fuck, now i really feel bad. i’ve done nothing but sleep all day.”

niall startles slightly at your presence, not expecting you to be awake, looking over to catch you sitting down next to him. “please stop saying stuff like that,” he shakes his head with a playful smile. “really, just having someone else here is doing plenty for me.”

“you’d still be in the comfort of the ship if it weren’t for me,” you point out, really just looking for a reaction out of him. you were in a good mood after the long nap, finally a moment of silly freedom as your subconscious comes to terms with your overall safety.

“you’d be fucked if i hadn’t come with you,” he points out, eyes leaving the fire to flick to yours, a knowingly playful glint in his gaze.

“i’d have been eaten by a shark a thousand miles in the wrong direction,” you laugh, instinctually hiding your face in niall’s shoulder, slowly rising away from him when you realize what you’d done.

niall laughs with you, “wouldn’t make it a thousand miles,” he mutters under his breath, his heart bursting at the slight touch, knowing that you’re comfortable enough to do so. and if by the looks of it, wasn’t something you’d planned, if the sheepish look you’re giving him is anything to go by.

“s’alright you know,” he murmurs, his arm gently resting over your shoulders, giving you a small nudge, a silent plea to rest against him again. if you wanted to of course.

you welcome the opportunity, tucking your head into his neck, revelling in the warmth, the comfort, hell even his pirate smell was getting to you in a good way.

“don’t know how you did it,” you hum quietly, the darkness, the close proximity, making it easy to talk. “the first time you were rowing by yourself out at sea. must have been so scary.”

niall hums in thought, nodding, his hand on your shoulder giving a little squeeze, “think i was more scared of being hurt or weakened.”

“i thought we were gonna die out there,” you whisper, biting your lip, niall’s hand giving you another reassuring squeeze and a small rub.

“are you scared of dying ?” niall asks quietly, his head resting against yours, eyes locked on the fire ahead of him.

“yes, of course,” you nod. “aren’t you ?”

“no,” he shrugs softly. “i think to be scared of dying, i’d have to have something to live for.”

your heart shatters for him. literally, you can feel every shard of your broken heart stabbing you throughout the inside of your body. “niall-“ you murmur, looking up at him, sadness filling your eyes, “what happened to you ?” he’d mentioned his parents before. or at least his mum, and how she raised him to be kind. how did he end up here ?

he sighs, looking down at his boots, feet scuffing the sand below them, his hand rising from your shoulder to rest against your head, forcing it back down in his neck before speaking, “my mam died when i was young. a pretty graphic accident, i’ll spare you the details,” he explains quietly. “my dad couldn’t handle it. he drank the rest of his life away, and-“ niall shakes his head, “well, he eventually died too. didn’t have much going for me. no one to come and save me,” he shrugs.

that hits you. it hits you hard. he’s done nothing but save you for the past week. something he’s doing out of the pure goodness of his heart. something he so desperately wished for himself.

“was working at the docks for a while, but i didn’t have anywhere to go, didn’t have a home. that’s one thing the pirate ships do offer. s’hard work, the food is awful, the people are a mixed bag, but at least it’s a sense of belonging.”

“niall, i- fuck,” you breathe. “i don’t even know what to say. i’m so fucking sorry. wish i could go back in time and save you somehow.”

he closes his eyes, shuts them tight, his forehead pressed into your hair, muttering, “just knowing that means the world.”

you bite your lip at his admission, a single tear rolling down your cheek, quickly wiping it away against niall’s sleeve.

“never told me how you ended up on the ship,” niall murmurs, desperate for any way to take the heat of the conversation off of him.

“couldn’t stand the rich guy,” you explain softly, shrugging.

“why’s that ?” he asks, curious to have a glimpse into your reality.

“he’s not-“ he’s not you, you’re dying to say, but stop yourself. you can’t tell him that, fuck, you’re not sure you’re ready to accept that. to accept what that means. “he’s not a good person.”

“does he hurt you ?” niall asks quietly, bracing himself for the answer, not sure he’s actually ready for the outcome of that question.

“not physically,” you sigh. “not really anyway. not in the classic sense,” you try to clarify, shaking out the thoughts in your head. you didn’t want to talk about your sex life with niall.

so you try again, going a different route, “he’s not sweet, he’s not comforting, he’s not really very kind to me.” fuck, he’s not you, you really wish you could shout into the void of this island.

niall’s eyes close for a moment, squeezing you tighter to him, because really, how could anyone hurt you ? you were so sweet, so kind, how could anyone not want to give you the world ? he wishes more than anything that he could. that he had the opportunity to.

and well, he guesses that’s what separates their worlds so drastically. niall knew, deep down, that he was all the things that this guy wasn’t. but he also knew where pirates stood in the hierarchy of the world. and he knew even better where this guy stood. and that’s exactly why you were with him, and not niall. and it’s also why niall just needs to keep his mouth shut.

so that’s what he does. he sits with you. in comforting silence. watching the fire, taking in the stars, sharing the crab he’d caught earlier. sharing a moment of empathetic peace. a moment of sympathetic understanding. a moment for the two of you to just be. secretly pining for one another, but too self deprecating to do anything about it.

once the small bit of sustenance was polished off, niall finds himself guiding you back to the makeshift bed area, laying next to you, “get myself some rest before rowing back to the mainland tomorrow.”

why did that thought send a pit to the bottom of your stomach ? why did going back to the steadiness of flat ground make you want to vomit ? so you shuffle yourself closer to niall, silently praying that this wasn’t your last day with him.

you stuff your face against his neck and shoulder, body curling up to his side, your hand resting on the warmth of his chest feeling the steady rhythm of his heart, murmuring, “s’a bit cold,” as an excuse to get yourself closer.

“‘course. it’s alright,” he whispers back, taking a deep breath off the top of your head, hoping that you can’t feel the increase in his heart rate. he was tearing himself up inside. with your warmth, your softness, at such a close proximity, his head was doing cartwheels.

niall seriously cannot remember the last time he even had a conversation with a lady, let alone a cuddle with one. he can feel you two getting close, can feel the lingering heat from your breath against his ear. can feel every fibre of his being screaming at him to just kiss you.

but then, there’s that nagging thought in his brain, telling him that it’s a bad idea. especially now, knowing that you have a man back home. and no matter how much you might hate him, you’re still with him. and well, niall refuses to let go of his sweet, kind image that he’s somehow upheld with you. and making you cheat would certainly pop that bubble that you’ve put him in.

and so he does all that he can do. he cuddles you impossibly closer, under the premise of exchanging body heat, and falls asleep with the comforting thought that at least you had one last day together.

it was upon waking up the next morning, that everything seemed to hit you hard. you were going home. back to reality. back to your every day existence. back to normalcy. back to your life without niall. and you hated the sheer thought of it all. however, you really didn’t have an alternative, as you’d quite proven to yourself that a life at sea was nowhere near as nice as you may have imagined.

and so you sit quietly, sadly, in the lifeboat, taking in the last moments with your beautiful pirate man. you make sure to keep him ingrained in your mind, looking over the glint in his deep blue eyes, the smoothness of his sun parched skin, the tufts of soft looking hair, the way his lips part for his tongue to poke out, the freckles lining his cheeks.

the more you take him in, the sadder you become. this truly is the last time you’ll see niall. a reality that hits more and more the closer you get to land, the large port now visible in the distance.

“do you know where you’re going from here ?” niall asks sadly as he helps you out of the boat again. “pirates aren’t really welcomed with open arms out here.”

“yeah,” you sigh, nodding, standing next to him, not wanting to make the first move towards goodbye. the longer you were standing there, the more awkward it was becoming, and yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to leaving quite yet. “where will you go from here ?”

“i’ll find my way,” niall smiles softly, “i always end up right where i need to be.”

he looks over you, head to toe, one last time, shattered by the idea that he needs to say goodbye. he wasn’t meant to be on land, and he could never be selfish enough to force you into a life at sea. no, this was exactly what needed to happen. so he wraps his arms around you, taking a deep breath as he squeezes you tightly, “please don’t worry about me, i’ll be just fine.”

“i’m gonna miss you,” you admit quietly, your eyes pooling with unshed tears, gripping onto him for dear life. “i really wish there was a way for me to thank you. you’ve done so much for me.”

but he’s quick to shake his head, “seeing you safe is thanks enough. seriously couldn’t live with myself if i knew you were stranded somewhere at sea, getting ripped to shreds by some nasty pirates.”

as niall slowly pulls away from the hug, knowing that the longer this moment lasts, the harder it will be for him to actually walk away, he notes the unshed tears filling your eyes. and as much as it pains him, he needs to take that step, make that move towards goodbye.

he cups your cheek in his large hand, your face instantly leaning into his palm, head turning just slightly to peck his wrist.

niall watched you attentively, storing the soft feel of your lips away for a moment where he’ll need the strength, murmuring, “this was my first rowboat trip that had me properly scared. because, i actually had someone to live for. i’m really gonna miss you darling.”

and then, a moment later, the warmth comfort of his hand has fallen, niall nodding his head in a small curtsey, before turning away and rowing off, not giving you a chance to answer.

you stood there watching him until he was nothing more than a spec on the horizon, tears silently rolling down your cheeks, a frog forming in your throat. you were in love with a pirate.

Part 3

……

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

tags : @cc-horan28 @acesofspadess @justaranchhand

#niall horan #niall horan fic #niall horan fanfic #niall horan fanfiction #niall horan blurb #niall horan one shot #niall horan imagine #niall horan au #niall horan writing #niall horan x you #niall horan x reader #niall horan fluff #niall horan masterlist #niall horan series #one direction #hello lovers #writings #justmeinatree

44 notes · View notes

gryphis-eyes · 1 year

Text

⊙ Message from spirits

⊙ Welcome to this very simple but (I hope) useful pick a card, I know its been a while and here is my last attempt to get back to tumblr haha.I don’t have more to say , hope you’ll get the message that will light the fire in your !

⊙ How to pick a pile ? There are differents ways to do it, you can do a little meditation while thinking about the 3 images, you can also use a pendulum, remember to listen to your intuition while chosing and reading the messages those are general reading so not everything will be for you or it will ask you to interpret it based on your situation

◇ Deck used : Rider Waite, Shakespeare Oracle, Phenix Oracle

⊙ Pile 1 : The Cat

Cards ; 3 of cups, 6 of swords R " Tis true. The wheel is come full circle; I am here. ”

One day things go up and one day things go down, such is the nature of Fortuna’s actions. The cards are showing me those 3 muses singing with their cups full of sweet beverage while on the other side of the reading someone is struggling on their boat, going against this raging river’s flow. Some of you seems to be tired of life, you're always fighting, barely resting while other people seems to roam freely through life. Its not fair isn’t it ? I feel like the main issue here is that you're going through a though period and it affect your mental a lot, so of course our brain’s first move is to look at others and be like ”damn look at them, so happy and relaxed while im in this burning house”. Do not throw yourself heartlessly into this path which seems to be the only one, do not look at other, look at you. You might be afraid to do a specific thing (new project ?) Because others seems to do it better or the idea you got already have been done but listen to me ; nobody is doing things better than someone else, succes doesn’t mean its better it just mean it touch more people but it doesn’t mean it is made of quality. That’s why we always got people talking about underated movies, music etc, nothing is better, things are just different. What matter isn’t how amazing you'll do but rather how you will do it because you are not anyone else’s mind, look at the story of the hero with a thousand faces it has been done so so many times in fictions but people dont always realise it, why ? Because all of those fictions have been done by different people so that’s why lord of the ring is so different from star wars. To be honest I was thinking about telling you to go slower but the phenix cards are really telling you to move and just do it ! Be serious about this project wether it mean actually writing a story and publishing it or starting writing it, you got nothing to lose.

⊙ Pile 2 : The Owl

Cards ; 3 of swords R, hangedman ” for there is nothing either good or bad but thinking makes it so.To me it is a prison. ”

Ive heard ”a haunted heart” part from on the fence by tv girl in mind while reading your cards. I have no contexte about what happened to you but I can tell that it was a wild ride isn t it ? Sit down my dear its time to rest and listen. Whatever happened didnt happen out of the ”univers” cruelty or a ”blessing in disguise” what happened felt like an attack toward you (from your pov) wether its truly the case or not I dont know but I truly think the cards are reminding you to focus on the present since they are hiding the past from me. Do not search for the why, do not search for a blessing coming from it, what was good what was bad do not try to listen to thousand of readers who will tell you how to act (I mostly got those ”forgiveness” speech that every new ager are repeating). You dont need to focus on that past thing you need to focus on yourself and your needs from the present, not the needs you had 5 month ago. You should let your life calm down, put less effort in the world and put more effort for yourself wether its forcing you to have a self care moment or allowing yourself to have a lazy day or just sit down and do nothing but listen to music. The lyrics from ”after the storm” it carry the whole message im trying to give you. Basically, yes what happened suck but its not an excuse to give up on yourself.

⊙ Pile 3 ; The Snake

The lover, 3 of swords R

" The enemy increaseth every day; We, at the height, are ready to decline.There is a tide in the affairs of men, Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune; Omitted, all the voyage of their life Is bound in shallows and in miseries. On such a full sea are we now afloat; And we must take the current when it serves, Or lose our ventures. "

It's time to risk it all my friend. I have no idea if It's a project, a ritual/spell (I get that most of you are into witchcraft or spiritual thing). See this snake going for the butterfly even if It's small and can avoid the snake’s strike easily, the reptile still go for it. It even look like the snake is using the obstacle in order to jump higher to catch the butterfly. (Idk why I get that you should try to watch samurai champloo). The advice here, is to look at everything that went bad or didn’t work in the past and ask yourself ”why” so now you'll be able to make your action more effective because you have grown a lot since the last time you try that thing or something similar. I feel a big burst of energy so its like everything is here, you just have to act. Like the snake, do not chase your goal or just walk around it until you saw the opportunity. Just go in front of it and strike ! With the Lover I see that this thing is dear to your heart or will light the fire in yourself again. You can do it, you have the power to do so, you can only gain good thing from this situation that will (above of making you happy) will heal something in yourself.

⊙

#pick a card #gryphis #⊙

302 notes · View notes

deadmenandthedivine · 10 months

Text

DEAD MEN § the DIVINE

chapter one: cold landings and green castles

Maetilda Targaryen, First of her Name, was supposed to be many things. What she became was entirely different.

table of contents

trigger warning!!! this fic contains many graphic topics and depictions. such as but not limited to: dead parents, abusive parents, toxic family systems, incest, medieval misogyny, forced marriage, threats of assault (sexual § physical), actual assault, imprisonment, kidnapping, murder, blood/gore, uxoricide, familicide, PTSD and other neurodivergence. i will do my best to update as i go along, but please let me know if i have missed anything!

word count: 4172

The only noise one could hear within the carriage came from that of the wheels turning and the many horseshoes keeping pace together across the terrain. No one uttered a word, not even little Joffrey who always had a question coming out of his mouth. The four occupants of the carriage sat in an uncomfortable silence, avoiding all eye contact with each other. The tension was palpable and it danced over them like a feather on their skin. Tickling them to the point of squirming. While at sea, Jacaerys had been quite chatty. Filling all open air with the sound of his voice. He had been dedicating every ounce of his extra time to his High Valyrian studies after a life of neglecting them. Lucerys, on the other hand, never missed an opportunity to point out his older brother’s change of tune. Despite the childish teasing, the prince's step-sister had silently suspected that her father had something to do with the recent resurgence in Valyrian interest. It was one of her father’s favorite subjects. The sound of his lessons served as background noise to most of their journey. That and the crashing of waves against the wooden boat. Traveling by sea so as to not strain the babe growing in the future Queen’s womb. Traveling on dragonback would have been much faster and far more efficient. But little Joffrey had yet to mount his own dragon and on top of a developing fetus, the Queen made a point of letting her family know that their party was to be the perfect picture of unity. A formidable and unbreakable force. A vision of hope and pride for the future. Much was at stake.

It had been at least six years since the last time any of the carriage's occupants had stepped foot in the capitol of King's Landing; yet even from the carriage, the air felt different. Down to the stench that wafted out of its walls. The air felt foreign and wrong, but none of them wanted to say anything about it. Perhaps if no one acknowledged it, the suspicions would not be real. But it was next to impossible to ignore. The smell of the dirt, the people, the spices, it was all different. The kind of different that pooled and bubbled at the bottom of one’s stomach. The kind that twisted one’s insides like betrayal. The future Queen stared blankly forward at the floor of the carriage. It was clear she was not actually looking there, but completely lost in her own mind. The skin on her face was pulled tight, both by her hair braided back and the tension in her head and neck. The future King Consort idly tapped his incessant hands upon his thighs. He would have seemed more relaxed if his hands didn’t give him away. He glanced idly out the window, down to the children, and back. His other two daughters were traveling with their maternal grandmother and would arrive sometime after the rest of them. The two eldest princes held a silent conversation using only their eyes, small gestures, and the mouthing of words. They held onto their naïve invincibility, only feeling tense from the tension in the carriage. They struggled to keep the other from laughing. They seemed to speak a language only the two of them knew. It reminded Maetilda of her twin sisters, Baela and Rhaena. She longed to feel that close to someone else. The youngest prince laid his head upon his mother’s lap and traced the embroidery on her gown. His head leaned back against her swelling stomach. His eyes were half lidded and getting heavier by the second. Princess Maetilda watched them all dutifully, studying the intricacies of their features and movements. Assuring she knows as much as possible about what each of them were thinking without blatantly asking. Their answers would only be half truths anyway.

Nothing could have prepared them for the stark difference they found upon exiting their carriage. In her childhood, the walls towered over her. Reflecting light off the sun in the warmest terracotta red. She could still remember running about the courtyards, but corridors, and especially the Godswood. She could see the smiles of the people she passed, the peace in the way their shoulders sat and leisurely paced. Even the flowers in the garden thrived, sky-high stems billowing in the breeze. However, that day the terracotta-colored castle was anything but. The walls were dull, barely red tinted. The sky was grey. The people walked quickly through the corridors with purpose, straight faces pointed only toward their destination. Shoulders back and tensely locked. The gardens were browner, stems not growing near as high. The air felt dead and cold, despite the shining of the sun. It did not look like Targaryens resided there at all.

Perhaps most foreign was the lack of basic respect and honor. Outside of the carriage attendant that assisted each royal out of the carriage, not a single body nor representative showed face in the courtyard to greet their party. The princess in only title could feel the sting across her skin as if she were actually slapped. Goosebumps erupted as the hair on her arms and the back of her neck stood on edge. The bubbling in her stomach began to churn. Was she nauseous or just overcome with a sudden hot flash? She could not be sure. What she did know was that this could only mean danger ahead of them, her family. The King would never stand for such petty and blatant disrespect. In fact, it was a flamboyant disobedience of the King’s decree by both the Crown and the royal family itself. Where was the King? He had been ill the last time they saw him, but nothing had been keeping him from moving about the Red Keep. Her father clenched his teeth and sneered, not at all hiding his fury. It made the muscles in her own back tense. Maetilda could see the uneasiness settle on each of her family members’ shoulders as they completely realized the seriousness of the absence of a welcoming party. It was not just an insult or a mistake, it was a strategic move. There was no other explanation. Perhaps the only non offensive excuse would be for the King to actively be on his deathbed. What other excuse could there be? Even in that event, there would be an attendant waiting to inform them of his health upon their arrival.

Only after they had all gotten a look around the outer courtyard did the gates to the inner courtyard open. Anxiously, a bald and wrinkled lord scurried over to the future Queen. His hands wiped at his sides as he remained bent over in respect. Maetilda watched curiously as he gave the Princess-by-birth a bow before clasping her hands firmly in his. The Princess-by-title felt her hackles raise as if she were some guard dog. Like a bowman was about to sneak attack them at any moment. Where in the seven hells was the fucking King? As her mind raced, she suddenly became aware of the presence of her three sworn knights behind her. They were just as tense as she was, even with the new arrival to greet them. She could see the hands relaxing on the hilts of their swords out of her peripherals.

“Welcome back, Princess.” He nearly muttered, his breath uneven.

The future Queen merely blinked back at him, desperately trying to read him, “Lord Caswell.”

Princess Rhaenyra soon dismissed the children to go explore, instructing them to be ready in time to dine in her chambers that evening. Joffrey was entrusted with a Septon they had brought from Dragonstone and ushered into the library. Little Aegon and Viserys were carried to their new chamber by milkmaids. With the freedom to wonder, Princess Maetilda did not know where to go. She found herself looking to her father. Looking for any sign that she should stay or perhaps make a run for it. But none came. Her father merely kept his eyes on his wife. Only when he felt her eyes on him did he glance over at his daughter, and simply nodded in the direction of Jacaerys and Lucerys. A silent instruction for her to follow after them. She turned around to find the two eldest boys already jogging into the inner courtyard. With a sigh, Maetilda instructed her knights to see to the safety of her chambers and belongings before they may settle themselves into their own accommodations. They immediately bowed to her before dismissing themselves to carry out her orders. Resolutely, she then picked up the front of her skirts and followed after her stepbrothers. Barely containing their excitement, the two moved quickly. The princess had to practically run to catch up with them. Luckily, they both turned as soon as their ears picked up on the sound of her hurried footsteps and slowed down for her.

“Coming with us, Til?” Jace smiled warmly at his stepsister.

“If you both don’t mind the company!” She teased back.

“We’re going to the training yards. I bet Jace 10 gold dragons that the dent from the morningstar incident is gone.” Lucerys informed her proudly.

“Those walls are made of stone, Luke.” Maetilda’s brows furrowed.

“Yes, but what if they fixed it? Got rid of all evidence of us.” He snickered.

“Well, with that reasoning.” Jacaerys nodded and shrugged as he considered his brother’s logic.

It almost felt like it grew colder the deeper they ventured into the castle grounds. The corridors were darker than she remembered, even the outdoor ones. Together, the three paced together through them. Navigating the halls by memory. Except the princess did not know where she was going near as well as the other two did. Unlike the princes, she grew up with her father and his Lady wife Laena Velaryon in the Free Cities. She rarely visited the Red Keep where her stepbrothers had spent their childhoods being gawked at for their lack of silver hair. An internal pain that Maetilda thankfully never had to suffer. She had always looked distinctly Valyrian — silver honey blonde hair and periwinkle purple eyes. There was no doubting that she was the child of her mother and father who were locked in marriage. Maetilda could never recall what the late Ser Harwin Strong looked like, but supposedly the resemblance with her three step brothers was uncanny. It was never their fault. They did not choose to be born with brown hair. It was subtle but the princes’ demeanor had changed entirely since stepping out of the carriage. She had not seen them like this since Lady Laena’s funeral at Driftmark. It made sense. They were walking into a wasps nest. She could practically hear the buzzing. The scalp beneath her braids itched desperately. Gods be damned, it all felt wrong.

“Do you think the rumors about Aegon are true?” Lucerys chuckled quietly.

“How do you know about those?” Maetilda gasped with a smirk, throwing Jacaerys a glance.

“Don’t tell mother,” Jace grumbled, “It sort of slipped out.”

“Slipped out? Sure, that’s how it happened!” Luke giggled a bit too sarcastically.

The older brother's cheeks tinted pink at the revelation of his mistake. Luckily for them, as they very well knew, Maetilda was not the tattling type. In fact, she found it miraculous how the two brothers had the ability to keep things light, pull the tension from one’s shoulders. Things didn’t feel so cold or foreign as the three continued their walk and eventually made their way down one of the staircases into the training yard. It wasn’t very becoming of her to be in the training yards. But she still remained in her traveling wear, which wasn’t very becoming of her either. Deep down, she knew it would not matter if she were in the Vale. A fact that she would always secretly hang onto. She did not know much about her mother’s home, her birthright. But she did know that. She wondered what it would be like to live there, and not be forced to adhere to such stiffness. Lost in her thoughts, Maetilda nearly tripped over her skirts in their descent down the stairs. Both boys turned to steady her the moment they heard her step falter. They came by their manners so naturally, made them seem less stiff too. Jace led the group the rest of the way down while Luke took up the rear. They collected at the bottom together before hunting for the spot where the dent should be.

“Smaller than I remember.” Luke commented as he looked around the yard.

“It looks exactly the same.” Jace chided.

Maetilda could not ever recall stepping foot there before. The yard was huge from what she could gauge. Bigger than the one at Dragonstone. But she could vaguely remember training pits in Essos that would put the royal one to shame. All the action happening around them was consuming. Instead of one person directing the training and practice, there were multiple pockets of different fighters squaring up, each surrounded by their own group of onlookers. The twins Arryk and Erryk Cargyll sparred in the corner closest to their entrance. They expertly matched each other’s blows. Like a dance where they lead each other telepathically. It was mesmerizing to watch them. Jace had to tug on Maetilda’s arm to pull her away from the Kingsguard. The three continued on walking, passing by the different weapons. Lords and the occasional lady all turning inward on each other to whisper about the new arrivals. Their lack of verbal welcomes, as the lords and ladies would customarily be expected to give to the newly docked royals, never came. Why were they all gathered there? To spectate? It did not help the uneasy feeling that began to settle in the princess’ guts. She felt like they were intruding. The boys naturally ignored them and hid any outward signs of hurt. Lucerys turned to study a wrack of spears while Jacaerys’ eyes continued to scan the walls for the infamous dent. Maetilda’s heart ached at the sight of the younger boy. His shoulders slumped forward and his eyes casted downward. He could feel their whispers. The princess reached out and gingerly grabbed his hand, giving it a single reassuring squeeze. His eyes glanced up at her with a thankful smile before they returned back to the spear rack. Behind them, Jacaerys’ pace picked up to a jog as he ran over to a particular spot in the wall. With a chuckle, he brushed the dirt off of the very obvious dent and patted it adoringly. Lucerys simply sighed.

“See? I told you this would still be here.” Jace chuckled, “And you thought you could swing Ser Criston’s precious morningstar.”

Jacaerys walked back over to the two who remained lingering amongst the spears, “You almost took your own head off.”

For the first time that day, Lucerys had nothing to say. His weight shifted from one foot to another. Maetilda could feel his discomfort radiating off of him.

“That’s enough, Jace.” She interjected.

The older prince kept his gaze on his brother, “What’s your problem?”

“Everyone’s staring at us,” The younger held his head in shame.

The air between them suddenly felt heavy. It was a peculiar thing to feel around the boys. Unlike them. The intrusive feeling the princess had garnered from the lords and ladies in the yard suddenly came to sit between her and the boys in front of her. They passed looks between each other, their secret language only known to them. Maetilda knew this was a matter between the brothers. If Luke wanted to hear what she had to say, he would have asked it sooner. Instead, he waited for Jace’s attention. For the opinion of someone who truly understood how he was feeling. Maetilda knew to keep her mouth shut. As any older brother would do when faced with a tough emotion, Jacaerys grabbed a random sword and jokingly jabbed it at Lucerys. But Luke was not in a joking mood. He did not flinch or break a smile. He held firm on his point. He turned to his older brother with more conviction.

“No one would question me being heir to Driftmark,” Luke started strongly before dropping his voice to a whisper, “If… if I looked more like Ser Laenor Velaryon than Ser Harwin Strong.”

Jace finally set down the sword and turned to his brother. Maetilda continued to feel like an unwelcome party as she watched them, but she knew they needed to have the conversation. On the other hand, they knew that she was aware of what others not-so-quietly whispered about. The boys had nothing to hide from their stepsister.

“It doesn’t matter what they think.” Jace stated with absolution.

Luke looked back up at his brother more warmly. The princess was shocked by how simple their words were and how their simple words were somehow powerful enough to move mountains within each other. Again, it made Maetilda’s heart clench. Their bond was so strong and so sweet. Something rare in the world they lived in. Something unbreakable by time or distance. Briefly, her mother crept into the corners of her mind before she shoved the thought of her back down. The moment was about Jace and Luke, the scrutiny they faced in the eyes of the court — not her or her lack of such solid companionship. The softness in the boys’ brown eyes made her smile as she pulled herself back into the moment. She opened her mouth to finally say something when a THWACK rippled throughout the training yard, causing all three to jump. Jace gestured to the other two that they should get closer, and Luke offered his arm out for Maetilda to take. Together, they crept over to a large circle of people forming in the center of the yard. The crowd was at least two people deep all the way around. The three peered over their shoulders in order to get a glimpse of the action.

In the center of the circle stood Ser Criston Cole and Prince Aemond Targaryen. The sight of them together was jarring. The princess’ mouth suddenly felt dry. Two people they hadn’t seen since Driftmark, two people they had really been hoping to avoid. The last time they saw each other, Luke took the latter’s eye in self defense and the former tried to take Luke’s eye by order of the Queen. The Kingsguard sparred with his aforementioned morningstar while the Prince stuck to the normal sword and shield. The princess did not realize that it was possible to be more mesmerizing than the Cargyll twins, yet there she stood entranced along with the crowd of others who had stopped to watch. The brunette was strong and strategic with his blows while the silver haired man was quick and precise. They spun together before the Kingsguard wailed his morningstar at the prince over and over and over again. The prince blocked each blow with his shield until the shield itself cracked and shattered into pieces. A lump formed in Maetilda’s throat. Surely, the prince would lose after that. However the silver-haired prince was masterful beyond his years. Without so much as a second of hesitation, he spun on the balls of his feet and hurled his sword at the older man. They went back and forth for a few more swings, each blocking the other with their own weapons. It was impossible to tell who had the upper hand. Swing, miss, swing and miss. Aemond spun around again after he met another blow with his sword. Like the flicker of candlelight, his one lilac eye scanned the crowd behind his opponent. It stopped on Maetilda, locking eyes with her for a moment longer before pulling his attention back to the matter at hand. The princess could feel her stepbrothers’ eyes glance over to her as her mind scrambled for an explanation of what had just happened. Perhaps he had just become aware of all the eyes on him, and realized that he hadn’t been in the welcoming party. Perhaps he saw the Valyrian features and did not recognize her at first. Perhaps he had known the three were there the whole time, and was assuring they were watching him. His face had remained completely blank the entire time. It was impossible for her to tell.

Back in focus, the men circled each other again. Ser Criston raised his arm, wildly swinging at the prince at least four times over. Aemond dodged each one, watching his opponent like a hawk. He waited for Ser Criston’s arm to get tired before he swung his sword at him in the opening it left. The Kingsguard barely dodged the prince’s advances, but this did not deter Aemond. He spun around again, swinging his sword around like an extension of his own arm before it landed right at Ser Criston’s neck. The princess released the breath she didn’t know she was holding as the crowd around her erupted into cheers. She glanced at her stepbrothers to find them already exchanging looks between each other. With a small ounce of honor the princess did not know the single Kingsguard was capable of, Ser Criston dropped his morningstar in the dirt and ripped off his gloves.

“Well done, my prince.” He praised, “You’ll be winning tourneys in no time.”

The silver haired prince did not move. With his sword still pointed at the knight, he held his stance and his flat glare fixed on Ser Criston, “I don’t give a shit about tourneys.”

“Nephews.” He greeted the group to his side dryly without sparing them a glance at first. It was eerie. After an elongated pause, he dropped his stance, sheathed his weapon, and turned toward Jacaerys and Lucerys. He gave them a single curt nod. Clearly, he did not seem embarrassed for his absence upon their arrival. The prince looked at them down his nose. Imposing with an air of challenge. Not giving the brunette princes a chance to respond, he then turned to Maetilda letting the corners of his mouth just barely turn up into what could be considered a smile, “Princess. Have you all come to train?”

Any conversation was immediately cut off by the sound of an arrival, but not exactly a welcomed one. Across the training yard a voice boomed “Make way for Lord Vaemond Velaryon of Driftmark!” and gates on the opposite side of the staircase they entered on were opened to reveal a large party decorated in silver seahorses and sea green banners. A mass of which she had not seen since her late stepmother’s funeral. She could still picture them all on Driftmark in her mind. The party was led by two knights with Hightower green towers on their breastplates. It was peculiar to see Lord Vaemond flanked in such a manner. A manner that even Lord Corlys did not bother with, preferring to let his presence alone be enough to deter any potential attackers. The large group of knights, guards, and bannerman made the proud lord appear tiny as they marched through the training yard. What an odd door to arrive through, Maetilda thought. Yet they were being led by Hightowers. Very peculiar indeed. The princess spared a glance back at the silver haired prince, finding herself wondering if he might know anything. She almost jumped when she found him already looking at her with a soft smug smile. His single lilac eye studied her every movement like a hawk. There was already a new shield on his arms, ready to go for another round. Aemond wasn’t there to welcome them, he was purposefully training instead. Lord Vaemond entered through different doors on purpose too. That’s why there were lords and ladies gathered in the training yard. It was all calculated, on purpose. She could feel Aemond watch her as she put together the pieces of the puzzle. They were all very much in trouble.

Maetilda smiled sharply, stepping in the middle of her stepbrothers to take both their arms. “Excuse us, cousin. We must go get ready for dinner. The future Queen does not like to be kept waiting. It was nice of you to welcome us all so warmly. We must come down to play in the dirt with you another time.”

Aemond’s smug smile dropped, filling Maetilda with pride. He gave a single nod to the three of them, but held his gaze firm. She could feel both brothers’ arms tense around hers. They were undoubtedly in a standoff that neither party would willingly back down from. There was blood involved. Too much history, petty insults, scorned emotions, and physical maiming. It was the elephant that sat between them. They both knew it sat there yet neither would directly acknowledge it.

“Welcome to the Red Keep, Princess.” Aemond regained his smirk, “Nephews.”

A/N: i’m super excited to get feedback! my goal is to write a dynamic character who very much grows and changes with the story. hopefully, i can do my image of her justice!

are we excited for chapter two? 👀

xoxo messy

#house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfic #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #prince aemond #aemond fanfiction #aemond the kinslayer #aemond x fem!oc #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond x reader #hotd #hotd imagine #hotd aemond #daemon targaryen #dad!daemon #oc fanfiction #dead men and the divine

80 notes · View notes

teamskulladventures · 5 days

Text

🎧🖤☠️🪲🎧🖤☠️🪲🎧🖤☠️🪲🎧🖤☠️🪲

✿ ⁺ 🎀‧₊˚🩹⋆ ✩ ✿ ⁺ 🎀‧₊˚🩹⋆ ✩ ✿ ⁺ 🎀‧₊˚🩹⋆

Current Team:

Sylveon, Gothitelle, Ribombee, Comfey, Vivillon (Marine)

Guzma:

•A few weeks had passed since your outing with Guzma and in that time you've gotten accustomed to the rest of the gang.

•You spend your days, battling, hanging out, and going on more adventures with Guzma that the two of you had gotten pretty close.

•Today was like amy other day in Alola, sunny, hot and perfect for some battling and relaxing.

•Sitting amongst the many flowers of Ula'Ula Medow you brush your Ribombee, thanking them for giving it their all against Guzma.

•Guzma: *Stretching before seating himself next to you* Augh! Haha you did pretty good out there today. Swore you almost had me beat this time.

•(Y/N): *Giggling* Hmpf You really think so?

•Guzma: Ehhh. .

•You playful punch his side while your Ribombee proceeds to circle around Guzma.

•Guzma: Haha hey! I do mean it! You're crew put up a good fight. Shame you don't have more.

•(Y/N): Tsk well you knowww, you could just not use all your team!

•Guzma: And wheres the fun in that? *Guzma is now petting your Ribombee* From what it sounds like you just don't want to get another member. Why is that?

•You sort of give him a side glare, not the mean kind, more along the "are you seriously asking that?" variety.

•Looking you up and down, Guzma laughs to himself while ruffling his hair.

•Guzma: Right! Right! You have your theme thing going on.

•(Y/N): *You playfully scoff* As if! Says the guy who only specializes in one type!

•Guzma: Come onnn! That ain't so strange now. Plenty of trainers specialize in one type! Not that many have a theme as intense as yours though. *he starts waving his hands to try and backpeddle once he sees the lool on your face* Not.. Not that it's weird or anything! Just makes it pretty limiting. Hmmm.

•Guzma starts to think about any Pokemon that would come to mind that might align with your style.

•(Y/N): Hehe. Any grand ideas genius?

•Guzma: *He waves you off* Tsk girl let me think!

•You roll your eyes. Typical leave it to the bug specialist to only have bugs on his mind. This wasn't the first case his bug brain got you in hot water. Barely scrapped by during last weeks triva night when the topic of "who:s that pokemon" was assigned to his and yours team. You were doing so well up until that poimt until Mr."The bad boss who beats you down and never loses" made you look like a fool due to his lack of pokemon knowledge beyond just bugs!

•To be fair it's not like you had any luck either. Growing up you only familiarized yourself with Pokemon that you deemed "pretty" to some extent.

•Which became your downfall when forming a proper team for the Alola Trials as you became the picky type when searching for Mons'.

•Being on an island was already limiting in its own right to the kinds of Pokemon that could inhabit it so sucking it up and traveling with three Pokemon has been your norm thus far.

•The sound of Guzma standing up rapidly only to shout "I got it!", snapped you back into reality.

•He was holding out his hand ushering you to stand were he promptly started dragging you along near the docks.

•(Y/N): Yo Yoahhhh! Whe. . where are we going?!!

•Guzma: Uhh the boats? Where else?

•(Y/N): Isn't it a bit early to be going on some grand adventure right now?

•Guzma: Nope! Perfect time! Ain't no one's gonna be around besides us taking that boat to Akala.

•(Y/N): What?!? I thought you hated leaving Ula'Ula island? Besides aren't you kinda banned from taking the boats?

•Guzma: Yeah so? What are they gonna do, fight me? Now move it or lose it! I wanna get to Akala and off of it as soon as I can!

•(Y/N) *Catching up to Guzma's speed* Ack! Alright! Arceus you're so pushy!

✿ ⁺ 🎀‧₊˚🩹⋆ ✩ ✿ ⁺ 🎀‧₊˚🩹⋆ ✩ ✿ ⁺ 🎀‧₊˚🩹⋆

•Walking through Lush Jungle you couldn't believe how peaceful this place could be. Thanks to your trial and all the trainers, you hardley spent any time in this forest.

•Since it was stupid early in the morning any trainers that did cross your path quickly turned the other way when the noticed Guzma with you.

•The hum of pinsirs and wooshing sounds of trees swaying made this forrest feel otherworldly. Being able to walk past various Pokemon from Butterfrees to Morelulls was lovely as well. From what you remember from your trial, many of the Pokemon were hiding away from the comotion of trainers and of those that were around fled the scene when the Totem Laurantis appeared.

•Walking around aimlessly, admiring all that was around you, Guzma had finally pulled you back to reality, calling you over to show you something.

•(Y/N): Ouhh uh Yeah! I'm coming! *You run over to where you heard his voice as your body is pulled to the ground* Dude! Warn a girl next time you want to get all handsy!!

•Guzma: Shhhs if you stay quiet we can get this done and over with before more people spot me!

•(Y/N): Oh! SORRY! Ever the informative are we? You have a terrible habit of being so secretive you know that?

•Guzma: SHH!

•(Y/N): UGh!

•Sitting in awkward silence you begin to wonder what you guys were waiting in a bush for. Well logic would dictate it has to be a Pokemon but what did Guzma know that you didn't? There were nothing but bug types and fomantis around that didn't exactly interest you.

•Waiting and waiting and waiting some more you jolt into alertness when Guzma starts rapidly tapping on your shoulders trying to guide your sight to what he spotted.

•Guzma: Look! Look! Look!

•(Y/N): Whatttt! I'm looking. I'm Looking!

•Guzma: *He spins you around so that you can face his direction. He points to a nearby clearing* See! Now's your chance!

•(Y/N): Chance for whaaa whoahh!

•You've been pushed into the clearing where a Comfey can be seen flying about. The Pokemon is a bit frightened by the sudden appearance of you, but it doesn't immediately run away.

•(Y/N): *You turn back to face Guzma* So this is what you dragged me out here for?!

•Guzma: Yes! Now quit talking and get to catching that Comfey before it runs away!!

•Turning back to face the wild Comfey you noticed it was gone. Feeling a tad sad you let it get away, and after all the waiting Guzma did, you turn to face Guzma again but there was the Comfey. It was entrenched, as it circled your body with awe and wonder. You were wearing a pastel yellow dress, with a nice fluffy petticoat underneath. The pattern resembled a florgess playing amongst a field of wildflowers and sparkles. This wild comfey must have mistaken the flowers and ruffles to be real petals as it inched closer to get a better look.

•You slowly reached out to it, as it drew back only to realize that your hand wasn't a threat. The comfey allowed you to gently stroke it but any more than that and you were sure it would run away.

•Your other hand began to search for any pokeballs tucked away in your bag. Finding one and presenting it to the comfey you were surprised when it brushed up against it. It didn't go in just yet. Flying back into the middle of the clearing the Comfey looked at you with seriousness and determination in its eyes.

•Guzma: *smugly* I think you're gonna have to earn its capture dollface!

•(Y/N): *shrugging* at least its giving me the time of day. I was for sure it was gonna fly away the second I popped up.

•The comfey waiting in anticipation you decided to send out your Ribombee as the battle began.

•(Y/N): Ribombee use Pollen Puff! *a blast of pollen knocks the comfey back yet despite the shove it seems unscaved* Wait . uhhh? I thought that was for sure a knockout or at least a bigger impact.

•Guzma is currently cackling in the bushes at your confused state.

•Guzma: Ahah oh man. . gets em every time.

•(Y/N): Huh? Ah! Wait Ribombee dodge that! *The comfey goes for a sweet kiss which your Ribombee narrowly dodges*

•Guzma: Listen (Y/N), bug moves ain't gonna do shit.

•(Y/N): *to yourself* Oh great! Another Pokemon who looks nothing like its type.

•With a failed Pollen Puff you decided to go with a dazzling gleam which didn't do a whole lot either but at least it was slightly more effective.

•Despite its flowery appearance this Comfey was tough, huh sounds familiar. This onlt made you want to get them even more.

•With a bit more dazzling gleams you noticed the Comfey was getting weaker but your own Ribombee wasn't doing so hot either.

•Welp this was your only chance to make it work and you only had three Pokeballs on your person.

•Throwing one, the Comfey went out of it as quickly as it went in.

•Damn. It must not be that weak yet. Standing in that forrest you tried thinking of a strategy that would make this Comfey weaker without knocking it out. Another dazzling gleam would be too strong but maybe another pollen puff would do the trick but would that not be enough and if so would your Ribombee survive the next attack? You decided to give it a shot with Pollen Puff again, and lucky for you the Comfey survived. Now you just had to make sure Ribombee had the stamina to dodge.

•Flying around Ribombee was unfortunately unable to dodge the next attack but with grit it held out for you. You needed to catch this Comfey or your certain Ribombee wouldn't be able to hold on any longer. Attempting for the second time you threw the Pokeball and in Comfey went.

•*Shake Shake Shake*

•But it broke out. Damn.

•Not wanting to subject Ribombee any longer to the battle you decided to throw your last Pokeball praying to Arceus that it would work. The Pokeball began to shake again.

•*Shake. Shake. Shake.*

•*Click*

•A sigh of relief left your body as you ran to your new friend.

•Picking up the Pokeball you excitedly showed it off to Guzma who looked just as relieved as you did that the process was now done. The sun shown brighly between the tree tops as a gentle breeze filled the air. It was quiet. . . too quiet.

•Your celebration was short lived as the ground shook beneath your feet. Looking at the time on your phone it read 12:38. From the sounds of the shaking and the timing you knew that Mallow's trial was starting soon as the Totem Guardian Laurantis was currently walking around the forest.

•(Y/N): Uhhh Guzma . . we need to

•Guzma: Leave!! Yep already on it.

•The two of you start booking it trying to avoid the foliage and any trainers now entering the forrest. Looking back at the clearing your eyes go wide as the totem Laurantis is already hot on its pursuit towards you. For all it knows you to are just normal trial goers and sees no reason to stop.

•Trying to high tail it faster, running in heeled boots was not doing you any favors.

•(Y/N): Guzma!!! Wait!!!!

•He turns back to look at you, sighs, and runs back to grab you.

•In a blur you no longer feel the ground beneath your feet as Guzma has lifted your body and is currently carrying you bridal style out the forest and back to the docks.

•You only look up at him, blushing madly at him carrying you like this, as you grip onto his shoulders.

✿ ⁺ 🎀‧₊˚🩹⋆ ✩ ✿ ⁺ 🎀‧₊˚🩹⋆ ✩ ✿ ⁺ 🎀‧₊˚🩹⋆

•Catching your breath on the boat you didn't pay any mind to the onlookers as you laughed along with Guzma about what went down today.

•(Y/N): *Giggles* I can't believe you managed to carry me and run that fast at the same time!

•Guzma: Well yeah? I was fighting for my life! You know if someone *He says poking at your cheek* decided to wear something else besides heals I wouldn't have had to worry.

•(Y/N): *You playfully tease* Awww you worry about meeee?

•Guzma: Tsk you know I should have just left you in the forest.

•(Y/N): Hahhehe but cha didn't!

•Guzma: *rolls eyes*

•(Y/N): Besides I think you liked carrying me! My knight in shining sweatpants. I mean why else did you feel the need to still carry me even out of the forest.

•Guzma: *blushes* Shu. Shut up. I was just rushing to get us back to the boat.

•(Y/N): Hmmm alright whatever you say, but *snicker* hahaha you still almost tripped on the pyukumuku!

•Guzma: It ain't MY fault those damn things are so tiny. Your boi almost ate shit today and here you are . . laughing!

•(Y/N): *in a semi-mermer* well it wasss kinda funny.

•Guzma: *blushing* yeah whatever.

•You enjoy this peaceful moment with Guzma as the boat pulls into Ula'Ula docks.

✿ ⁺ 🎀‧₊˚🩹⋆ ✩ ✿ ⁺ 🎀‧₊˚🩹⋆ ✩ ✿ ⁺ 🎀‧₊˚🩹⋆

•A few days have passed since you got Comfey and she's been a sweetheart to the team. Getting to train and battle with her has been nothing but amazing yet, like always, it still wasn't enough to defeat Guzma. You've pretty much brushed the idea of ever getting to beat him, instead focusing on ever loss as an opportunity to grow and learn.

•On this particular day most of the local tourists were gone leaving many of the city life for the locals. You took the opportunity to have a small psudo-date with Guzma to get food and tapu coacoa, luckily at a different spot this time.

•Loking up from your cell, you noticed Guzma was towering over you.

•(Y/N): Oh hey! I didn't even hear you come in! How are you?

•Guzma: *shrugging and grinning* Eh not terrible. That comfey of yours any stronger yet or are you ready to accept defeat?

•(Y/N): *scoffing* Hey well you're not entirely wrong. I don't think I stand a chance unless I have as many Pokemon as you do . . but eh that's definitely not gonna happen.

•Guzma: And what makes you so sure? I'm sure there's gotta be another Pokemon that fits your vibe . . not that I'm rushing you or anything. I mean if I get to keep beating you down like this I'm fine with your team staying the way it is.

•(Y/N): haha yeah well still. I wouldn't mind another member it's just that I definitely checked this time. Went down to the library the other day and borrowed some trainers dex and yeah it confirmed that, unless I trade with someone who has it, there is no way I am getting a full team with the Pokemon that live on these islands.

•Guzma: Well if you need someone who can get you a Pokemon you're talkin' to the right guy. *he smirks* What Pokemon you need sweetcheeks? *he asks leaning towards you*

•Blushing softly you begin to rub the back of your neck: (Y/N): Oh it mmm. .it really doesn't matter. . trust me it's pretty much impossible.

•Guzma: hmm still no need to be keepin' secrets. Just spill it already.

•(Y/N): *sighing* it's a vivillon. .

•You can sense Guzma is happy at the sound of you mentioning the bug.

•(Y/N): Well don't get all happy! *blushing* like I said... can't get em here and no scatterbugs either. *you grumble* you of all people should now that Mr. King of the bugs!

•Guzma laughs at your tone and words but he doesn't seem shaken up by the idea of not being able to find a vivillon.

•Guzma: Haha . . well if it's a Vivillon you want that shouldn't be any problem. *He says that last part to himself*

•You know the look on his face means he is thinking about causing trouble.

•(Y/N): H. . hey!! Don't go getting any wackjob ideas in your head!! I am NOT asking you to steal one for me.

•Guzma: whoa whoa whoa easy on the accusations! *smirking* I ain't thinking like that . . . anymore .

•You try to stay mad at him.

•Guzma: *snickers* . . tsk . trust me (Y/N) I have other methods. .

•You roll your eyes. Knowing Guzma that could mean anything: (Y/N): hmpf. . well *you cross your shoulders* I am not asking you to do anything for me. . I believe I am content with what I have just fine. . now finish your food so we can do something else.

•Guzma: Hmm sure . . whatever you say doll. *Guzma has a feint blush on his face*

✿ ⁺ 🎀‧₊˚🩹⋆ ✩ ✿ ⁺ 🎀‧₊˚🩹⋆ ✩ ✿ ⁺ 🎀‧₊˚🩹⋆

•It's been a week since your last outing with Guzma. Walking along the wooden walkways of Ula'Ula Meadows you were supposed to meet with him as he "wanted to show you something hella dope" apparently.

•With Sylveon walking in tandem with their ribbons wrapped around you arm she was keeping an eye out for the Bug Boss as the two of you scanned the sea of red flowers.

•During your walk, the gentle Alolan breeze blew past and the sounds of ruffling leaves filled your ears. In the moment you began thinking back on all your moments with Guzma and how despite his gang affiliation and what everyone thinks of him you know that he is a great guy deep down. He has been nothing but supportive and accepting of your style and personality that your heart started pounding in your chest the more you thought about him. He had this sort of gruff charm to him that only he could pull off and you are thankful that he was so willing to let you be a part of his busy and reckless life. You know he isn't one to open up to others besides the grunts and his admin and friend Plumeria.

•Before your mind trailed off too far your sylveon pulled you towards the direction she saw Guzma.

•Heading a bit south towards a more secluded part of the meadow you saw Guzma slouching on the ground talking to his ariados. As he pet him the look on Guzma's face was that of nervousness that you've never seen on him before.

•Your sylveon happily called out to Guzma as it ran towards his direction. You jogged behind her, stopping just a few feet away from Guzma as he stood up and began dusting off his sweats.

•Guzma: Oh . he hey? *coughing* what's good yo?

•(Y/N): *a bit suspicious* Gooood? What's good on your end?

•Guzma: ha he uh nothing. . *coughing* nothing . . just same shit as usual. *he starts rubbing the back of his head as his usual confidence is disappearing each second that passes*

•(Y/N): *giggles* uh oh okayyy? . . *You walk a bit closer to him* you good? You seem a bit . off.

•Guzma: *trying to stay casual* tsk yeah that's what I just said right?! . Your boi is good. . and shit. yeah .

•Your eyes noticed that he was fighting with something in his pocket as you stood in silence observing his every move. It was starting to freak him out a bit as he turned his back towards you not before tossing you whatever he had in his pocket.

•It was a pokeball. An all white Pokeball with a gold band around it with the feint initials "A.F" carved into it.

•Guzma spoke up in defense before you had the chance to chew him out.

•Guzma: *his cheecks start to turn red* Listen . .I . I didn't take it from no trainer or anything.

•(Y/N): *softly* Guzma . .

•Guzma wasn't expecting to feel your arm tug on his sleeve. He had nowhere to turn to try and hide his flustered face as your (colored) eyes staired back into his.

•Guzma: *trying to cover his face with the back of his hand* Don't give me that look??! What . w mmm you said it yourself *he crosses his shoulders* what your like birthday is soon or somethin' . . got you an early gift is all.

•(Y/N): *You're blushing too as you shake your head at Guzma's blushing form* hehe yeah sure . if you think two months away is pretty soon.

•You gaze at the ball in your hand. Well whoever gave Guzma this Pokemon must have been from a different region as you had never seen a pokeball like this before. You only hoped they weren't going to miss whatever Pokemon was inside it if they were willing to carve their initials into this ball.

•Guzma: *a bit frustrated* argh you know that thing won't pop out on its own!

•(Y/N): *giggles* Alright! Alright! Arceus! Pushy as always.

•Releasing the Pokemon you gasped in away at what flew in front of you. Your heartbeat fast as you gripped onto Guzma's arm to keep yourself from stumbling.

•Before your very eyes was a beautiful light blue Vivillon. The bug type danced around you a bit too eagerly for a pokemon that is meeting it's new trainer for the first time.

•Drawing your hand out the Vivillon did not hesitate to launch itself at you in a welcoming embrace.

•Guzma: Sorry. . it's not the right color.

•(Y/N): huh?

•Guzma: You clearly wanted the pink one. . . but blue was the best I could get.

•Holding onto Guzmas hand you begin rubbing it gently.

•(Y/N): Thank you . . thank you so much for . . everything.

•Guzma: Whoa whoa whoa?! Hold on whats with the . . everything talk . everything? I ain't done shit to earn that . *He's covering his blush with the back of his hand* the fuck are you on about?

•(Y/N): well uh . .you know . you've done a whole lot for me just by being close to me . . for not judging my appearance . . and for sticking by my side when my appearance causes unwanted attention. . and for trying to understand me and support me. You know better than anyone what it's like to be judged and hated on by people who don't try to get to know the person they're judging. And I say all that because it does mean something to me. . it is my everything.

•Guzma: *his whole face is red* . ye yeah . likewise . . *Not one for words he opts to pull you into a tight embrace.* s . still he's blue . . *Guzma grumbles out that last part*

•Hugging him tighter you can't help but giggle into his chest.

•(Y/N): No. He's perfect.

✿ ⁺ 🎀‧₊˚🩹⋆ ✩ ✿ ⁺ 🎀‧₊˚🩹⋆ ✩ ✿ ⁺ 🎀‧₊˚🩹⋆

*Click click click*

•The sound of your mary janes hitting the pavement as you walked without a care in the world to who was starting at your appearance.

•You were happy today because today you were going on another date with Guzma.

•Approaching Guzma he couldn't help bit stare in awe at your choice of outfit.

•Guzma: Yo (Y/N). .h hey now! That's a new color on you. *Walking up to you* It's nice. *he says with his signature grin*

•(Y/N): Thank you! I've been meaning to wear this one for a while . . just didn't have the right "accessories" to wear it with . but I guess I should thank you for that. *saying all that your vivillon happily flitters by your side as you go to pet the top of his head*

•You are wearing a plain baby blue dress with a white accented corset, white mary janes, blue ruffled and sparkling stockings, and a blue bow atop your head.

•(Y/N): *Reaching out to wrap you arm around Guzmas* So . you ready?

•Guzma: *Ruffling the back of his head* sure I am dollface.

•Walking down the busy street the two of you brace for your next lovely adventure.

✿ ⁺ 🎀‧₊˚🩹⋆ ✩ ✿ ⁺ 🎀‧₊˚🩹⋆ ✩ ✿ ⁺ 🎀‧₊˚🩹⋆

#guzma #pokemon #team skull #guzma pokemon #pokemon guzma #team skull pokemon #pokemon team skull #alola #i love him so freaking much #guzma x y/n #guzma x me #guzma x reader #guzma imagines #team skull imagines #pokemon x reader #pokemon imagines #team skull x reader

9 notes · View notes