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shelbyssins · 1 year

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HI 💕 I loved Home so much and I was wondering if I could request something?? I had this idea of Tommy x Reader where reader was like a one that got away situation with pre-war Tommy and she married someone else but her husband dies during the war but Tommy didn’t ever know that he just thought she was married.. so time passes and they meet again then you can choose the ending!! Happy or sad you can choose, I hope this makes sense English is not my first language lol!! And if this doesn’t inspire you that’s okay too but know I love your work and am excited to see what you write next!!!💕😇😇

Seasons Change, People Don't ~ Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: Language, a sprinkling of angst

Word Count: 6,880

A/N: So this past week or so has just been insanely busy for me and I was struggling to find time to finish this request but here it finally is! I wanted to make this a little more light hearted than my previous request and the idea of Tommy and reader's relationship changing through the seasons really stuck with me so I hope you enjoy! I will be posting some shorter form one shots this week with some different characters so watch out for those! As always, if you read this, let me know what you think! - Rosie x

June 1912

“Tommy!” Y/n shrieked as she bounded over to her friend in the stables. The summer sun was breaking through the thin cover of cloud that drifted over the fields today. Y/n watched as Tommy’s eyes met hers, a soft smile playing on his lips when he recognised her. Y/n pressed a kiss to Tommy’s cheek, smacking her lips louder than she needed to because she knew it wound him up. He made an exaggerated show of wiping the spot she’d kissed and Y/n punched him lightly in response, he laughed gently, feigning hurt as he rubbed his arm.

Tommy was reverently brushing his mare, a bay horse who’s coat gleamed like copper coins under his attention. Tommy was a quiet man, never really as raucous as his brothers could be, but he laughed a lot, those soft little chuckles that never failed to make Y/n blush whenever she pulled one out of him. Tommy was a middle child, but Y/n knew he acted every bit the eldest. Having been blessed with intelligence, his head would soon be burdened with the crown of the Shelby family. Though he did laugh a lot, Y/n could often see the strain he felt as the head of the family, so it was nice to see him relaxed and in his own world.

He was twenty two now, about a head taller than Y/n and she found him so frustratingly handsome. She watched as his solid muscles shifted beneath his crisp shirt with every movement over his mare’s back, all broad shoulders and quiet strength, it was no wonder he had every girl in Small Heath falling over themselves for the chance to go out with him, though he never seemed to care much. Despite the obvious physical attraction, Y/n’s favourite part of him was his bright blue eyes, shining like sapphires in the sun, like stormy seas in the shade. Y/n would like to pretend that she was better than all the other girls, far above so obviously throwing herself at Tommy; but it was hard to push down the magnificently huge crush she had on him when he gazed at her with those pools of blue.

Y/n had known Tommy ever since she could remember, her mother was best friends with his Aunt, Polly Gray, they were practically sisters, and as her father had abandoned them before she was even born, the Shelby family pitched in to help wherever needed. Then, when Y/n was twelve years old, her mother passed and she’d lived with Polly ever since. She knew full well that Tommy only ever deemed her like a sister, but that didn’t stop her dreaming that he’d one day notice her affections.

It didn’t help that Tommy always treated her like a child as well, chiding her when he’d seen her smoking for the first time, always referring to her and her friends as ‘the kids’. Y/n had hoped that now she was eighteen, Tommy might see her in a different light, might start treating her like an adult, but if anything he was even more overprotective.

Just recently he’d refused to let her sit with him and his older brother, Arthur, in the Garrison, telling her, “It’s not proper for young ladies to listen to conversation like ours, you don’t want to be around us when we’re drinking anyway,”. It was kind of humiliating, especially when Arthur had laughed that booming laugh right in her face, so she gave up that night and trailed home, feeling every bit the little girl Tommy thought she was.

“You know, Mark’s been hanging around me a lot recently,” Y/n began, hoping that Tommy might get jealous if she talked about another guy, “Ada says she thinks he likes me,”

Y/n got nothing more than a non committal grunt from Tommy, though his hands had stilled their work over his mare’s mane.

“She thinks he’s going to ask me to go to the Garrison’s jazz night this weekend. As his date,” She added the clarification at the end, searching Tommy’s face for absolutely any reaction.

Tommy obviously wasn’t going to bite, so Y/n decided to try a more direct approach, “You know, if you asked me to go with you instead of him, I’d say yes,”

For all the intelligence he apparently possessed, Tommy just looked at Y/n blankly, a puzzled eyebrow raised as he went back to grooming his horse.

“You know I don’t like jazz, Y/n,” Was all he said on the matter, and Y/n wondered if he really was that bad at picking up her hints or if he was ignoring her attempts at flirtation on purpose.

Y/n was beyond frustrated at the fact that Tommy just didn’t understand what she was trying to say, she had hoped distantly that maybe she had a head start on all the other girls who liked Tommy too; she knew him far better than they did after all. But maybe it was because they’d grown up together that Tommy couldn’t see her as a potential girlfriend, maybe she’d always be just a kid in his eyes. Maybe he had some misguided idea that he was protecting her feelings by pretending to be confused, because perhaps in reality he just wanted to reject her.

“Well maybe I’ll just say yes to Mark then,” Y/n snapped, all together fed up with trying to get her meaning across. She looked away from Tommy then, afraid that if he caught her eye that she’d start blushing.

Tommy didn’t look up at her statement, just scratched at his horse’s ear as he said a bored, “Ok,”

Y/n huffed, storming away in a barely contained stomping tantrum that would rival any fit Finn could throw. She felt utterly defeated as she walked away from Tommy, thoroughly embarrassed that she was a tiny bit jealous of a horse.

March 1913

The sun was warm today, the first hints of spring blooming to bask in its light. The grass, damp with morning dew, caressed Y/n’s bare legs just below her skirt as she walked through the meadow in search of Tommy. Y/n knew he would be out here somewhere, desperate to get the family’s horses out in the fields for some exercise after the previous week’s relentless storms had kept them locked in the stables.

As she climbed her way over a short hill, Y/n’s eyes finally set on Tommy, who was standing under the shade of a tree, smoke from his cigarette billowing out of his mouth. Y/n ambled over, the closer she got she took in more of his appearance. He was dressed only in an undershirt tucked into his trousers, his suspenders hung loose by his legs. Tommy’s hair, not gelled down for once, flopped over by his ears. Y/n swallowed thickly as she remembered that she had a boyfriend waiting for her at home.

“Hi, Tommy,” She said softly, not wanting to startle him out of whatever daydream he seemed to be in.

“Y/n,” He replied simply, blowing some smoke in her face by way of greeting.

Y/n rolled her eyes as she waved the cloud of smoke away, faking a cough as she did.

“You got another one of those for me?” She asked with a gesture towards his cigarette, putting on the sweet voice she always used when she wanted something from Tommy.

He wordlessly opened his packet and she took one gratefully, leaning forward when Tommy flicked his lighter. Tommy moved in close to light Y/n’s cigarette for her, she held her breath as he did, wanting to avoid accidentally breathing in his dizzying scent of fresh soap and a hint of whiskey. Y/n took a long drag of the cigarette, having smoked almost half of it in one go when she finally exhaled. Tommy quirked an eyebrow at her obvious craving for the nicotine but didn’t comment.

Y/n relaxed her shoulders a little as she felt the effects of the smoke calm her rushing blood slightly, sagging against the tree as she pulled at the last dregs of the cigarette. Her mind wandered back to the problem at hand when she flicked the butt away into the grass.

“To what do I owe the pleasure,” Tommy asked as he too finished his smoke.

Y/n sighed and looked off into the distance, her eyes finding two of the Shelby horses grazing at the far side of the field in the shade, “I think Mark is going to propose to me.”

She sighed out a breath and couldn’t stop the way her eyes immediately went to Tommy’s face, waiting for his reaction. Y/n had accepted months ago that Tommy wouldn't ever see her the way she wanted him to, so she shut the door on those feelings and kept them buried under Mark’s affections. But she couldn’t help but worry that the lock on her heart was too weak now that she spoke to Tommy about impending marriage, she was powerless to stop the small hope that Tommy might tell her to say no, knew she’d run right into his arms if he wanted her to.

“I’m not sure what light you think I’ll be able to shed on the matter,” Tommy responded, his bored voice grating on Y/n’s final nerve.

“I should’ve known you’d be no help,” She huffed, pushing away from the tree and smoothing her skirts with angry hands. She made to stomp off back across the field, like she always did when Tommy irritated her, but a warm hand circling the entirety of her wrist stopped her in her tracks.

“Alright, love, alright, stop your tantrum,” Tommy was barely concealing a laugh behind his hand, but Y/n could see the humour clearly in his twinkling eyes.

“Shut up, Tommy,” Y/n replied, articulating her scowl with a harsh shove into Tommy’s side, “I’m just… not sure I want to marry him, at least, not so soon,”

Tommy pushed his hair out of his eyes and seemed to consider for a moment, “Well, don’t you like him?”

Y/n rolled her eyes, “Of course I like him, he’s sweet - kind to me, you know... Has a good job,”

“Well there you go, if you like him, why can’t you marry him?” Tommy said, so matter of fact that Y/n might have thought he’d mulled this over before.

“That’s just the thing, Tom. I like him, sure. But I just described him like he’s a pet dog, not a potential husband,” Tommy snorts at that and Y/n can’t help the little giggle that escapes in response, “I just… I always thought I’d be madly in love with whoever I was to marry, I’m scared I’ll regret it if I say yes,”

“What if you say no and regret it?” Tommy asked, his voice as soft as the breeze whispering over Y/n’s skin.

“You’re right. I don’t want to end up alone the rest of my life, and it’s not like anyone else is lining up for the chance to propose to me,” Y/n cringed at how obvious she sounded as she glanced at Tommy, she hunted for any change in those expressive eyes but came back disappointed when there was nothing.

Tommy said nothing more, sensing that Y/n was deep in thought, so they stood there in comfortable silence as the sun climbed higher into the afternoon sky.

Y/n felt bereft at the way her life had turned out. She and Ada used to dream of their weddings like all little girls did. They would excitedly tell each other all the details, what kind of dress they would wear, the colour of the bouquet they would hold, even the flavour of the wedding cake. They would clasp their little hands together and wish their dreams would come true, but there was one dream little Y/n never told Ada. The dream that a handsome blue eyed man would be waiting for her at the end of the aisle, he’d say she looked beautiful as he lifted her veil and they’d vow to belong to each other as long as they both lived.

Y/n's chest tightened sorrowfully as she felt that dream slipping through her fingers. No matter how tight she tried to hold onto it, she knew now that it would never come true.

“Come on,” Tommy spoke up, apparently done with the silence, “We can ride the horses back to the stables and I’ll see you home.”

Y/n felt pained by his words because they came from brotherly concern rather than the love she’d always wanted from him. He walked on ahead of her and Y/n closed her eyes, trying to find a way to barricade the door to her heart just a little more, so that maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much the next time Tommy smiled at her.

November 1913

Autumn came and went silently through the town of Small Heath. The residential area was completely taken up by dull houses and sooty factories, so Y/n always had to go searching for trees just beyond the cut if she wanted to see the change of the leaves before there weren’t any left. All that evidenced Autumn was a slight chill in the air and the constant heavy rain that deluged the narrow streets.

Y/n and Mark had married in that quiet Autumn a month ago in a small ceremony attended by only Mark’s family and the Shelbys, including Tommy. Life since then had been sweet, Y/n had to admit. Mark absolutely doted on her, hanging on her every whim to keep her happy, and Y/n found herself a little besotted with being Mrs Mark Johnson too, much to her surprise. At the wedding reception, Tommy had done nothing more than offer a muttered congratulations and brood in the corner alone for the rest of the night. But for once in her life, Y/n couldn’t find it within herself to actually care what Tommy was doing, thoroughly intent on enjoying a day that was all about her.

Winter then took Autumn’s place. Freezing air bit at bare faces, the town blanketed by a persistent cover of grey cloud. Y/n pulled her coat even tighter around herself as she made her way to the Garrison, praying that she’d find Tommy there since he’d been putting great effort into avoiding her recently. As she neared the place she hoped she’d find the second oldest Shelby, Y/n felt firmly resolute about her plan to talk to him, as she knew his stubbornness all too well. She knew that he’d let the silence between them stretch on until the end of time if she didn’t do something about it. So she steeled herself as she reached the heavy doors of the Garrison and walked inside.

She was immediately hit by the familiar smell of stale alcohol and tobacco permeating the air, barely containing a shudder as her senses tried to get used to the offending scent. Y/n quickly scanned the main area and didn’t find her target, so she walked over to Harry, the barkeep, and smiled at him as he finished wiping a glass.

“Hi, Harry. Is Tommy here?” She asked, hoping he’d at least caught sight of him today.

“He’s in there,” Harry replied, glancing over at the snug and nodding in that direction.

“Thanks, Harry,” Y/n gave her best sweet smile as payment, feeling a little bad about not buying a drink.

She pulled open the door to the snug and felt triumphant as she finally laid eyes on Tommy. He didn’t even bother to try and conceal the heavy sigh he huffed when he made eye contact with her, strengthening Y/n’s resolve that she would confront him about his avoidance even further.

“Hello, Thomas,” Y/n opened the conversation, inviting herself to sit at the table with him.

Tommy immediately brought out his pack of cigarettes, lit one and hastily shoved it between his lips as if he was trying to stop himself from speaking.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, smoke flowing out of his mouth with every word.

Y/n was puzzled at the question, “Is this not a public place?” She asked her own question back but didn’t wait for a response, “I’ve been trying to meet with you for weeks now, Tommy, but you always had some convenient excuse to avoid me,”

Tommy kept his face even and calm, the only tell that he’d been found out being a minute twitch of his lip, “There’s always business to attend to these days, Y/n,” He offered his meagre reasoning, another hasty excuse to hopefully placate her.

“Business,” Y/n couldn’t help but scoff, “Tommy, we haven’t had a conversation as long as this one since my wedding!” She didn’t miss the way Tommy’s shoulders straightened at the mention of the wedding. Curious.

“Why have you really been avoiding me, Tom?” She asked, softening her voice a little in hopes that Tommy would be more liable to answer truthfully.

But just as he’d opened his mouth to speak, in waltzed Arthur, the very embodiment of awkward timing, barrelling in like a rearing stallion, voice booming as loud as gunfire. Y/n rolled her eyes but couldn’t fight the smile that rose to her lips as Arthur pressed a rough kiss to the top of her head.

“And how’s married life treating the new Mrs Johnson, eh?” Arthur articulated his thinly veiled innuendo with a suggestive wink.

“Just fine, thank you, Arthur,” Y/n replied with a smirk, quite enjoying the way Arthur’s eyebrows rose into his hairline, surprised that she’d actually played along.

“I bet there’ll be tiny little versions of you running around Small Heath in no time at all, eh, love?” He garbled around the cork of a whiskey bottle he’d pulled out with his teeth, pouring the amber liquid into his glass.

“Well, that might not actually be the case,” Y/n smiled a little sadly, watching as Tommy sat up a little straighter, quirking a confused brow as a means to ask her to explain.

“Mark has been looking at a property in the countryside, about an hour away from here. If nobody outbids us we’ll be moving come New Year,” Y/n looked down at her hands, her fingers twisting themselves into knots as she tried to avoid Tommy’s penetrating eyes.

Arthur hummed but didn’t say anything on the matter, and Y/n knew Tommy wasn’t going to offer anything new, recognising that the contemplative look on his face meant silence for the foreseeable. So she felt compelled to continue on explaining herself.

“With all this talk of war getting closer and closer to us, we really want to settle down and start a family sooner rather than later,” She rambled, feeling a little interrogated even though neither man had said anything yet.

As Y/n flicked her eyes over to Tommy apprehensively, she saw that his jaw was completely set and he was gripping his whiskey glass so tight that his knuckles were white and his fist was shaking a little.

Y/n looked at him quizzically, trying to make him meet her eyes by some sort of telepathy, but Tommy’s gaze remained firmly fixed on his alcohol. She couldn’t understand why he’d be angry with her about this, her move hadn’t come as a shock to anyone who actually spoke to her often; it had been on the cards pretty much as soon as they were married. Maybe it was because Tommy thought she’d be happier here, maybe it was because he didn’t like her husband; how was she to know if he rebuffed her every attempt at communication?

Silence continued on for a minute before Arthur, characteristically oblivious to the tension, piped up again, “Well! The countryside, eh? Sounds marvellous, love,”

Tommy raised his eyebrows, as if in disbelief, and shook his head, dragging on the last fragments of his cigarette. Y/n muttered a quiet thanks to Arthur as he stood, saying something about another bottle of whiskey from his private collection to celebrate. Her eyes followed Arthur’s slightly drunken gait as he made his way out of the snug.

“Thomas, why are you sulking at me?” She interrogated immediately as the door shut.

Tommy stamped out his cigarette in the ash try, “I’m not sulking,” he replied, frowning.

“Well, you’re doing an excellent impression,” Y/n countered, sighing when Tommy’s lips didn’t even attempt a smile, “I just don’t understand why you can’t even pretend to be happy for me at least,”

Tommy’s shoulders sagged at that and he finally lifted his head up to meet Y/n’s eyes, “Don’t get upset ok?” He began carefully, and just by his tone of voice, Y/n knew she absolutely was going to get upset, “I just didn’t think you’d marry so soon, especially after our conversation in spring, you said he was like a pet dog, not a husband. Now all of a sudden you’re moving away? I know you Y/n, you love our town, what if you hate it in the country?”

Y/n’s face flushed hot, she was utterly incensed that Tommy thought these things about her marriage and apparently just chose to never say a word about it, “Firstly, if I remember correctly about that conversation in spring, you offered me no actually helpful advice when I was obviously asking for it!” Y/n was careful not to shout, so her voice came out like a hiss, “Then you practically encouraged me to marry him! Now you want to act as if you’re the font of all knowledge when it comes to my marriage.”

Tommy bit his lip and scrubbed a rough hand over his face, the way he did when he was trying not to get angry, “I just can’t help but think that your decisions have been too hasty, Y/n,” he supplied, any sweetness in his voice long gone.

The words wounded Y/n deeper than anything he’d said to her before, she felt the tears pricking at her eyes as she tried not to show that she was upset. All she’d ever wanted was this married life with him, but now that she’d moved on and accepted that it was never going to happen, Tommy chose to criticise her every decision, blissfully ignorant of the fact that she had worked so hard to get over him.

“I could hardly wait for you forever, Tom,” Y/n whispered, suddenly feeling exhausted as all the memories of her relationship with Tommy flashed in front of her eyes, she couldn’t help but feel it was such a waste, pining after him for all that time. Such a waste to crave the affections of a man who didn’t pay enough attention to her to notice she was utterly in love with him.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Tommy finally said, looking away from Y/n’s tearful eyes.

“If you had such strong opinions on the choices I made, who I was going to marry, where I was going to live, maybe you should’ve voiced them while you still could’ve done something about it,” Y/n stood as soon as she finished her speech, walking towards the door when she was certain Tommy wasn’t going to speak again.

Tommy didn’t call after her when she left.

February 1917

The fire crackled distantly as Y/n stared blankly into the flames, amber light casting lonely shadows onto the walls of her cottage home. The room was near silent, but the thud of her heart in her ears was almost deafening.

She clutched a telegram in her trembling hands and didn't bother to fight her tears as she read it for the fourth or fifth time, hoping this time she might make sense of the words written there on the page. But she didn’t know whether she couldn’t understand the sentences or just couldn’t believe the words were true.

Before the war hit England in July 1914, Y/n and Mark had spent a wonderfully happy, albeit short, married life. A few months before Mark was shipped off to France like every other man fit to fight, he worked as a clerk in the postal office of their little village, while Y/n looked after their house. She tended the garden too and often found peace planting flowers and thinking up new arrangements. Mark would come home every evening and greet Y/n with a kiss on her cheek before they sat down to eat dinner. Life was peaceful and picture perfect, no fighting, no drunkards lining the streets, no constant threat of crime. Y/n would be lying if she said she didn’t miss the chaos of Small Heath at least a little bit, but somewhere between their move to the country and Mark’s constant devotion, Y/n well and truly fell in love with him.

Now, as Y/n looked around her desolate sitting room, she realised she had absolutely nothing to prove that their love had ever happened. No matter how hard they had tried, God wouldn’t bless them with a child, and in the suffocating silence of this house, Y/n suddenly ached with longing to hear the patter of little feet running into her arms. At least she’d be comforted by the knowledge that a piece of their father resided still in this cottage, could look at their faces and still see his eyes looking back. But there was nothing, just utter loneliness.

Up until now, Y/n had grasped at any small shred of hope that Mark would return, ever since he left three years ago. She wrote to him every week, prayed for him every night, even though she wasn’t sure there was anyone listening anymore. She wished for his safe return and dreamed of the day he would warm their bed again. But now, there was no hope left in all the Earth that Y/n could beg for. There was no marriage, no husband to speak of as Y/n sat completely alone in this world, still clinging to that damned letter, her tears ruining the ink that spelled the end of her life.

Mark Johnson - Killed In Action.

July 1919

Y/n stepped off the train and took a heaving breath in as she tried to calm her nerves. Tendrils of anxiety curled around her chest as she carefully walked up the steps to leave the station, she knew she was only a short walk away from her home town and the odd need to run away was rising through her body.

Only the month prior, Y/n had sold her cottage in the countryside, finally accepting that nothing was keeping her tied to that place anymore, accepting that she couldn’t fit in without Mark. In the village, every corner she turned was a reminder of her husband, the route he used to walk to work, their favourite spot in the park, the station where she'd kissed him for the last time. She twisted her wedding ring around her finger nervously, she’d kept it on even after Mark's memorial service, it seemed a simple service she could do her husband to wear it, to remember him every day.

Y/n decided to rent a flat just down the road from where she’d grown up, and the familiarity of the streets comforted her as she entered her new home, dropping her few belongings in the hallway. It wasn’t much, but as a woman alone Y/n didn’t really see the point of buying a big house with no one else to keep her company. She sagged against the door, suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to get a whiskey, so she decided to leave the flat for a while and hoped that the Garrison would clear her head.

Almost as soon as she opened the door to the pub, Y/n could hear John’s familiar voice shouting over to someone at the bar and her eyes immediately landed on all of the Shelbys sat around a table, drinking various spirits and pints of ale. The relief she felt as she counted the boys and noted that they were all intact and alive was brief, she couldn't believe her bad luck that she had run into every Shelby the minute she set foot back in Small Heath. Y/n quickly scurried up to the bar, hopefully unnoticed by the family, deciding that she definitely wasn't having this reunion sober.

She had barely taken a sip of her whiskey when a voice called to her from across the room, "Well isn't this a sight for sore bloody eyes," Y/n heard Polly's familiar drawl and didn't need to look up from her glass to know all the attention was suddenly on her. Y/n gave up on the dainty sipping and knocked back the rest of her whiskey as the Shelbys began to descend like vultures to their prey. She focussed on the way the alcohol spread through her body, warming her and giving her that little bit more confidence as she gave a tight hug to her surrogate mother, "Hi, Pol," she said with a smile.

"Now what the 'ell are you doing back 'ere, love?" Arthur spoke as he nodded to the barkeep to refill your glass.

Y/n sighed, overwhelmed by the sudden questioning even though it was only Arthur who had asked anything, "You ok?" Polly whispered, squeezing her arm. Y/n nodded quickly and took another gulp of whiskey, "I wasn't counting on seeing you all so suddenly, I only got here half an hour ago!" She laughed nervously, "But now's as good a time as any to say I've moved back here. Surprise!" There was a chorus of congratulations and happy remarks, but there was only one person's face Y/n searched for, and she finally felt like she was home when she found Tommy's blue eyes.

He looked different, older definitely, but there was a cold harshness in his eyes that Y/n had never seen before. She shivered at what those eyes might have seen in France.

"It's good to have you back round here, Y/n," Tommy said lowly, and Y/n felt like everyone else in the room had faded away as she let Tommy's presence wash over her.

"Let's get a bottle to celebrate!" Arthur boomed, ruffling her hair like he did when she was a child, "Where's that husband of yours?" Y/n sucked in a sharp breath at the tactless question, fighting back tears as she tried to remember that it wasn't their fault if they didn't know Mark had passed.

"Probably at home looking after the kids, eh, Y/n?" John chimed in, nausea rising in Y/n's stomach as she tried to get a word in edgewise before someone said something they would regret.

"Nah, he's probably avoiding the pub, you know he can't handle his booze," Tommy was the one to pipe up that time and Y/n hated the cruel edge to his laugh, she'd hoped he'd grown up enough to get over his childish dislike of her husband.

"Tommy," Polly warned in that low, threatening voice of hers, picking up on Y/n's quickened breathing and tearful eyes. But Tommy carried on laughing, oblivious to his Aunt's insistence that they stop making fun, "You have to admit, he's always been a bit of a boring bastard," and there was the last straw. Before she'd even told her arm to move, Y/n's hand was flying at Tommy's face, slapping him right across the cheek so hard his head actually looked like it might detach from his neck. It happened so quickly Y/n wasn't quite sure if she had actually done it or not, but the boys had stopped laughing instantaneously, and the way Polly physically flinched told her she had genuinely just smacked Tommy Shelby. "How dare you," Y/n hissed before she could think better of it, her voice cold as steel, "My husband is dead, Thomas, have some fucking respect," The entire pub had gone silent, all staring intently at the scene unfolding, but wincing at Y/n's words, like they were watching a car accident happen right in front of them, too morbidly curious to look away. To his credit, John looked thoroughly ashamed of himself even though he hadn't said anything insulting and Arthur's eyes looked like they might pop out of his head, Y/n might have laughed had the cause been different. "Y/n, love, I'm sorry, we-" Arthur reached out as if to comfort her, but he cut off his sentence when Y/n flinched away from his touch, too overwhelmed to be crowded by him. She didn't know when she'd started to cry, but tears were flooding down her cheeks and pooling on the floorboards at her feet.

"Right. John, Arthur? Time to go," Polly insisted, ever the observant one, she knew that Tommy and Y/n had some talking to do. Neither man moved at first, but all it took was for Polly to level them with her menacing glare and they were hurrying out of the pub faster than a horse at full gallop.

Tommy and Y/n stood in silence for a moment, Y/n being too scared to speak because she desperately didn't want to acknowledge that she'd just slapped him.

"Y/n, I'm so sorry," Tommy finally whispered, and his voice was so genuinely sincere that it broke the final shred of dignity that Y/n cared to hold onto, and she started to cry louder than she had even let herself cry at Mark's memorial. Tommy opened his arms and that was all the prompting Y/n needed to fall straight into his chest, she sniffled as he cradled her head against his steadily beating heart, he shushed her softly and held her tight, "Come on now, love, let's go in the other room yeah? We can talk away from all the prying eyes,"

Y/n allowed herself to be led into the snug, struck by how familiar it was even after all these years, Tommy lowered her carefully onto the couch, as if he was afraid she might fall over.

"I'm sorry for hitting you, Tommy," Y/n babbled as soon as her breathing evened out, "It's not your fault, you didn't know Mark was dead,"

Tommy rubbed his cheek and smiled lightly, "Don't apologise, I deserved it. You've got some power in that hand, you know? Not sure any man has ever hit me that hard," Y/n giggled despite herself, sniffing and wiping at her face to dry the tears.

"So how come you're moving back here?" Tommy asked as she sagged into the couch, he avoided asking about Mark's death, sensing that she'd talk about it in her own time.

"Everything back at the village just reminds me of him, I couldn't stand it. Every time I left the house I couldn't stop thinking about how I waved him off to France, to fucking war, and didn't know he was never coming back. So I just isolated myself, only left the house to buy food, never made any friends because I couldn't bring myself to walk around without him by myside, I couldn't walk around as if nothing had happened," Tommy just hummed, knowing there was more to say and just waiting for Y/n to go on, "So when I finally sold the house, I decided to make a new start somewhere I knew would be easy to fit in,"

"You were right, you know," Y/n laughed into the quiet of the room, "I really did miss it round here. I missed how unpredictable it was, the routine of the village was hard to get used to but..." She teared up all over again as her husband's smiling face flashed in her mind, "I really did love him,"

"I'm sorry," was all Tommy said as Y/n swallowed around the lump in her throat.

"I didn't think I'd fall in love with him so deeply. At the start, my main reason for marrying him was because I thought I had no other option," Y/n confessed, not entirely sure why she was spilling all of her secrets to the man she used to love.

"I always thought you liked him a lot either way," Tommy said, a confused edge to his tone, "You used to talk about him constantly,"

Y/n laughed a genuine laugh at that, reminded suddenly of herself at seventeen, "I only talked about him so much because I thought it would make you jealous,"

Tommy's head shot up at that, and Y/n was once again concerned about the structural integrity of his neck, "Jealous?" He reiterated, pausing the rolling of a new cigarette to stare at Y/n expectantly.

"Yeah, I used to hint at you all the time about my very massive crush on you. But for all the good your intelligence apparently does, you never got it. Or, you know, you were just trying to let me down gently,"

Tommy looked like he was about to choke, or possibly stop breathing all together, "Hold on, you liked me?"

Y/n rolled her eyes at Tommy, assuming he was overreacting on purpose, "I know, it's embarrassing Tommy, don't make fun of me. But yes, I didn't just like you. I loved you, Tommy, ever since I was eleven,"

"Oh my god," Tommy breathed, suddenly struggling to get his rolling paper to stick.

"What? There's no need to be dramatic, Thomas," Y/n said, voice snippy due to her slight mortification.

"I just... I liked you too, for years, but I thought you didn't have any feelings for me since you were going out with Mark,"

Y/n was sure her blood had turned cold in her veins, either that or someone must have dumped a bucket of ice over her head, "Are you serious right now? Tommy, you should've just told me! I was being so obvious with my hints and you just refused to see it!"

Tommy looked indignant as he gave up on rolling his cigarette, "Well, why didn't you just tell me!" Y/n couldn't deny that that was an excellent point, "Anyway, I was sure someone as beautiful as you couldn't possibly have feelings for someone like me,"

Y/n slumped in her seat, overwhelmed by the revelations, she smiled as she imagined how she would've reacted to this information when she was a teenager all those years ago.

"Oh, Tommy, you're an idiot!" Tommy started to laugh and Y/n couldn't help soon joining in, feeling weightless for the first time since the war. She gazed into Tommy's eyes again, searched for the same look they'd had when he was in his early twenties, even though she knew she wouldn't find it. He'd changed so much, they both had, but in that moment she wondered if they really could just be the same two kids who loved each other so much, couldn't help but wonder how their lives would've played out if they'd both had the courage to admit their feelings.

Y/n didn't know when it happened, but their faces were suddenly only a hair's width apart, she could feel his breath whispering over her mouth, he smelled sweet despite the tobacco that clung to him. Y/n's eyes fluttered closed out of instinct, her heart thudding as she let herself be intoxicated by Tommy's entire being. But just as their noses touched, she sprung away from Tommy like he'd burned her.

"I'm sorry, that was-"

"No, don't apologise," Y/n cut him off before he could start spiralling, "Tommy... I've loved you since the day I met you, and... I think I always will love you, no matter what happens, or what has happened. You mean the world to me," she stared at her hands, afraid of the vulnerability she felt as she laid her heart at Tommy's feet, "But you have to understand... I loved my husband too, and I can't help but feel like I'm betraying him, because I'm falling for you so fast all over again. I'd - I'd feel so guilty if I rushed into something with you when he loved me so much before he passed. I can't just forget him."

"I won't ask you to," Tommy replied, tentatively putting his warm hand on Y/n's knee, making her look up at him, "But I have loved you too, and I love you right now, and I'll love you tomorrow. I won't ever be able to forgive myself if I let you get away again, not now that I know you feel the same. I want to be with you, whenever you're ready. We can take it slow,"

Y/n was breathless, like all the air in the room had suddenly been sucked out, she was completely consumed by thousands of thoughts running through her head all at once, "What does slow look like?" She whispered, entirely swept up by the ocean of love in Tommy's eyes.

"It starts like this," He murmured softly, taking Y/n by the hand and brushing his lips against her knuckles, "Then it might continue if you'll accompany me to dinner soon?"

"I'd like that Tommy," Y/n replied, a wave of relief flowing through her body, grateful that she could find love again at her own pace.

Tommy leaned in slowly and placed the most gentle and reverent kiss on Y/n's cheek, looking so deeply into her eyes that she thought he might be gazing directly at her soul, his voice was full of adoration as he said, "I promise I won't ever let you go,"

#thomas shelby #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders x reader #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby angst #tommy shelby fluff #polly gray #arthur shelby #tommy shelby x reader fanfic #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x reader imagine #tommy shelby x reader oneshot

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mymainwastoocluttered · 2 years

Text

The Key to My Heart (Vice Housewardens + Floyd)

Reader has a secret she keeps locked in her chest. He knows he has her pure, full love when she gives him the key

NOTE: I only write for female reader but everyone is welcome to read it!

Many people asked for more of this, so I shall deliver!

In this house, Ruggie is a Vice Housewarden, end of discussion. Also also, replaced Ortho (which I also consider a Vice Housewarden) with Floyd, but might write Ortho in his own little post so people can avoid it if they so wish. Maybe. I don't wanna say I will write it cuz we don't make promises we might not keep in this house.

A bit, uh, macabre. Little bit of body horror. If you know Pirates of the Caribbean... Yeah. That.

—<3<3<3

— Trey

Trey has always been the Normal One™, and he's well aware of it. He's by no means "normal", but compared to the idiosyncratic friendships he keeps in his life, he's definitely the most sensible. The less extra, as Cater would say.

So his reaction to his girlfriend's secret is quite understandable. No amount of Chen'ya's shenanigans, Riddle's rules, Ace and Deuce's plots and Cater's trendy adventures could've prepared him for it.

He freezes, eyes glued to the beating heart inside the chest, and can't help but splutter.

"Why me?"

"Who else, then?"

Being the "normal one" also means being boring by comparison. Uninteresting. Bland. Compared to all the personalities present in NRC—from strong to eccentric—Trey is not as interesting, not as good.

But she thinks he's good enough to hold the literal key to her heart.

And being "normal" now has become his greatest advantage, for who would bother with a common boy like him enough to wonder what is the key he carries on his neck, so close to his own heart?

—<3<3<3

— Ruggie

"Babe, not to freak you out, but there's a smell of living flesh and old blood in your room."

"... It's my heart."

"... What?"

His girlfriend pulls him to her bed, and he allows her to manhandle him until he's sitting on the soft mattress. To say the least, he did not expect the scent of flesh when she invited him to her room. Part of him wondered if she needs help to bury a body or something. Maybe her first year friends finally made her snap.

"Ohh, fancy," he whistles when she comes back with a very beautiful chest made of wood and metal. The smell gets stronger. "Please don't tell me you killed Grim and that's the body we need to bury, because that's a way too unique date idea."

"No, silly!" She laughs, but there hardly any amusement in it, which he takes as his cue to take things seriously. "This... Is something I hope you'll guard with your life."

She takes a key from around her neck and uses it to open the chest. Ruggie doesn't need to look at the inside of the chest for much, the smell and the beating attacking his senses so strongly that his eyes do not feel the need to see it for more than a miser second, choosing instead to focus on her face.

"This is my heart. If it stops beating, I die."

Then she grabs one of his hands and places there the key to the chest, closing his fingers on it. She doesn't need to say anything more.

Ruggie will guard the key with everything he is.

—<3<3<3

— Jade

Jade has heard many stories from human sailors, for they were one scarier than the other, one more interesting than the other. He had long grown tired of the exciting tales of hunting and curses of his people, and the romance genre never picked much his attention.

But the undecipherable horrors the humans whispered under their breaths when the nights were so dark, sky and sea became one? The angst they'd murmur in veneration, leaning on each other as if their own hearts were being ripped apart by the pale moonlight?

Now those were entertaining.

Sadly, since Jade could not choose which tales to listen, for no human ever knew the twin terrors lurking under the waves, sometimes he'd lose the gamble and sit through some loathed love story.

Though he quite liked the one about the Captain who fell in love with a Sea Goddess. Secretly, he always wondered how that man could be so foolish to forget the nature of the one he fell for, the nature he fell for, and how the Sea Goddess felt with the knowledge that he didn't love her, but having her, and took his own heart when he was denied.

But today, as his lover presents to him an intricate key to an intricate chest, he finds himself wondering how could the Sea Goddess not understand the utter devotion of a man who loved so desperately that the only way for the pain to stop was to take out his own heart and doom himself to eternity?

How could the Sea Goddess not answer that love in kind, when Jade himself feels like this had been the reason behind his entire existence up to this point?

Then again, the Captain did not give the Sea Goddess his key.

A pity, truly, that neither will ever understand Jade's feelings.

—<3<3<3

— Jamil

For a brief moment, a million plans go through Jamil's brain. It's impossible for him not to plan, not the scheme, not to strategize. His whole life has been nothing but.

And now, there's something even more important than his life at stakes.

To Jamil, the gift of trust and his lover's heart.

He takes the key from her hands in reverence, like he's receiving a gift from a divinity, however this is ten times better.

To humanity, the gift of free will.

Though he guesses it's not a gift when she took his own heart—metaphorically—in exchange.

But it certainly is still a blessing, one he shall carry with him at all times, and cherish at every breath, and if allowed, buried for eternity with it, to make sure he'll be able to care for it even in his next lives.

—<3<3<3

— Rook

For the first time in ages, Rook is absolutely stunned into silence.

He has known about the chest ever since the mysterious girl appeared with it in hands at Orientation. And many times he had tried to figure out what secrets it holds, to no avail as his dear Trickster is—appropriately—very tricky when she wants to.

The wait is paid off when she, after months of courting and dating, finally opens the chest to him.

Due to his incredible ears, he's aware that it holds something that beats like a heart.

He did not expect it to actually be a heart.

Remembering the tale of the evil stepmother who asked for her loyal servant to bring her the heart of her hated stepdaughter in a box, he can't help but wonder how this whole situation came to be. He does not ask. One lock at a time.

The key will be the last thing he'll wear in life, and the first thing he'll wear in death, that he promises.

—<3<3<3

— Lilia

Sometimes, Lilia muses with his buttons, humanity is capable of feats no magic could replicate.

There is a monologue inside him, one that frankly has never stopped ever since his first meeting with a human, in a voice he can't recognize anymore, though he can tell it's not any of his, carrying scary words like ephemeral and inevitable.

One that gets louder whenever he finally stops by himself, one that makes an effort to haunt his dreams whenever he's away from his lover, one that he's not sure he can ever be rid of. One he's not sure he will want to be rid off when the last period is placed at the end of her last sentence.

One that stutters and hushes for the first time in millennia when the chest is open and his eyes feast on the fragility of flesh.

One that begins to avoid her name like the key now dangling from his neck burned it from its repertoire.

A feat not all of his magic ever managed.

—<3<3<3

— Floyd

Floyd actually takes the heart out of the coffin, holding it in gentle hands. He commits to memory the feel of it, the weight of it, the smell of it.

Weren't he so afraid of hurting it with his teeth, he might've licked it to make sure all his senses would be able to recognize the heart of his most loved.

Once he's done, he places it back in the chest. Then he closes it, holding the chest in his hands until he's sure it locked properly.

Taking the key from its keyhole, he gives his girlfriend a look, who nods at him with a tender smile. His own heart beats together with hers, and he presses the cold metal of the key over it to remind it of its owner and its duty.

"Good thing the key is small enough to swallow, just in case."

"What–? Don't swallow the key, dummy!"

Floyd only laughs, pulling her to his lap and squeezing her in his arms.

This key and this person will never be taken from him, he'll make damn sure of it.

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weird-addiction · 7 months

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Ohhh okay, could u do daemon x male valyrian dragonrider just without the soulmates part than? ^_^

An Immortal Bond

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x Immortal!Valyrian!Male!Reader

Genre: Light Angst Warnings: suggestive themes, no actual smut, denial of feelings, talking about past bad experiences

The rogue prince of Westeros was known for and wide for his tendencies, having no boundaries and limits to his appetite. The smallfolk always talked about Daemon and having seen him in the street of silk almost every night, sleeping and fucking with whores without a care.

Some say he would marry a whore in his later years, but to everyone's surprise even when he became crown prince Daemon did not marry anyone (of his own choosing). Sure, he ran off with one his whores but he only did to get Viserys off his back.

Yeah, like that’ll work. Viserys has always bugged his brother to go back to the vale to his actual wife Rhea Royce of Arryn. Of course, Daemon refused. Viserys had asked a million times why, however Daemon refused to share any information on his reasons.

What Viserys did not know was that Daemon had fallen in love with someone else, someone unlikely to be even interested in someone like Daemon. But you know what they say, opposites attract. Well, they weren’t exactly ‘opposites’ but they were rather different if you truly compared them.

In his youth, the young Targaryen prince met someone when flying on Caraxes. A different dragon flew past him in the opposite direction, he made Caraxes fly the other way as well, to try and follow who he just saw. Eventually Daemon caught up to the mystery dragon, this dragon had a way bigger wingspan and longer body, it also had four legs instead of just two like his. Daemon saw the person riding it, upon the bigger dragon’s neck there sat someone, but he could not see their face as they had on a mask.

Daemon followed them as they landed next to each other, going up to the other rider he wanted to introduce himself. But the other rider beat him to it. “Nykeā targārien issi ao?" (A Targaryen are you?) They asked fluently in the language of Old Valyria.

“Nyke. Se nyke guessing ao issi hen uēpa valyrio hae sȳrī?” (I am. And I am guessing you are from Old Valyria as well?) Daemon replied back, seeing that the other also had the signature appearance of the silver-blonde hair and violet eyes that the nobles of the ancient civilization had.

“I am. I recently came across the Narrow Sea. I have been trying to find a place to settle.” Daemon nodded at him. “I am Daemon Targaryen. Crown prince to the Iron Throne. You?” He asked.

“I am Y/n.” This made Daemon confused. “No last name?”

“No, not really. My house is dead like the rest of Old Valyria. Plus, if I said it I doubt you would know it.”

From that moment onwards, their friendship blossomed over the years. And without Y/n realizing it, Daemon had fallen in love with him. Y/n did as well, but he was in denial of the affection he felt towards the prince.

And he had a good reason for it. There was something Y/n never told Daemon about himself, and it was the fact that he was immortal. He was born before the years of the doom of course, but, somehow he was still alive 200 years after the doom had happened. It was said that his house was cursed with immortality, to walk the lands forever as everything and everyone around them gets to die and move on.

Daemon moved through the city under the cover of night freely, walking into a lesser known brothel as he searched for someone through the many people that crowded it.

“Looking for me?” A voice called out from behind him. Daemon smiled as heard it, he knew full well who it was.

“Knew you would be here.” Daemon replied, turning around to see the Valyrian man that was standing with a shadow that covered half of his face perfectly.

“Where else am I going to go? Not like I can live anywhere else.” Y/n spoke with the tint of playfulness of full display.

“I thought staying in a brothel was below you, as you would say when we first met. So, why are you here? Given into your desires?” Daemon pulled the other close into him by the waist, Y/n did not refuse his advances.

“How else will I earn my money around here? Made friends with the owner, giving me half of the profits. I am in charge of some of the private rooms of this place, along with some clients. Pretty good deal, no?”

Daemon stroked the long hair that the other possessed, the beautiful Valyrian traits just like his own. Y/n led him slowly but surely into a private room, where they shut the curtains and gave themselves privacy. Y/n fidgeted before he spoke up.

“Daemon, there is something I need to tell you.” He said pouring the wine into two goblets.

“And that is?” Y/n handed him a goblet.

“.....That I am an immortal Daemon.” The prince paused as to process the information, he gulped down his wine as turned to look at the now known immortal in his eyes. “Is that supposed to make me feel something? If it is the fact you expect me to hate you, then you are wrong. I don’t care if you are immortal, I still feel the same way about you. Do you not also?” Daemon argued, practically asking and wanting the Y/n to confess his feelings for him.

“Daemon, you don’t understand. I do not know how to feel about this, about all of this, about you..I am just afraid that if I come to admit my feelings that would be my downfall..because that is what I have seen in the past.” Y/n explained, down his wine in one go as he went back to pour more.

“You are scared that you will live and I will die, is that correct?” Daemon irked an eyebrow.

“Yes. That is what I am saying.”

Hearing that, Daemon stood up and had his arms around the other, putting his chin in the area where Y/n’s neck and shoulder met. Arms around his waist once more. “I will say it again. I do not care if that is what you are. If fate has decided that you will live while I am on my deathbed, then so be it, I do not wish to part from you. Not now, not ever.”

Y/n turned his head around, their lips almost touched if it was not for Y/n noticing it. The immortal slowly leaned in, soon, their lips were together as they molded into one another. They only pulled away once they needed air, Y/n’s eyes seemed dazed.

Leading each other over to the bed, he pushed Daemon down onto the bed while he straddled him. As he began to pull away at the layers he wore, slowly showing his body to the prince. Soon, his bare chest was exposed along with his arms.

“Let me show you true pleasure prince.”

“Oh, please do.”

#🥀mukuro’s way #reader insert #male reader #male y/n #house of the dragon x male reader #fanfic #x male reader #house of the dragon #hotd x reader #hotd x male reader #house of the dragon x reader #daemon targeryan #daemon targeryen x reader #daemon targaryen x male reader #house of the dragon daemon x reader #daemon x you #hotd daemon

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bookworm551 · 1 year

Text

Of Duty and Desire | Chapter 1 | Neteyam x Metkayina!reader

He glanced away for a moment and clenched his jaw. When he looked back at you, you could see the frustration burning in his face. "I just-" he paused, staring at you intensely. "I've never wanted anything as much as I want you."

—————

Summary: You are the tsakarem of the Metkayina, promised to Aonung, and you have settled into your role nicely. Everything is as it should be until a family of Omatikaya refugees arrives, and the eldest son causes you to reconsider everything

A/N: I have been working on this piece for a while, but I literally had to rewrite this like four times so whoops. I appreciate all the love on my last fic, so hopefully y’all enjoy this too :) also, after this part I’m aging up the characters lol. Part 1 of idk

Neteyam x fem Metkayina!readers

5.8k words

Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Epilogue

Freedom is oftentimes the sacrifice demanded by duty.

The privilege of choosing how to live one's life is swept away by the responsibilities one has to their family, their friends, or their people. You thought you understood the weight of duty when you became the tsakarem of the Metkayina, but you soon realized thereafter that the cost was higher than what you were willing to pay.

In the months following their arrival, you had gotten close to the forest children. You loved spending time with Tuk. She was bright and full of wonder, and she never failed to make you laugh with her occasional sassy remark. Lo'ak was determined and a fast learner, and you were constantly amused by his poorly-hidden attraction to your best friend, Tsireya. You became fast friends with Kiri due to her deep connection with Eywa and interest in healing.

But there was something about your relationship with Neteyam that was different from all the others. In the few short months you had known each other, your friendship had grown much faster than you had expected. He was kind and respectful, and he always knew how to make you laugh. He was as close to you as the friends you had known your whole life.

You had first met him one day rather unexpectedly after their arrival. You were under the cover of the healing tent when you heard someone approach from outside. You were surprised to find the oldest Sully waiting expectantly while gripping his wrist tightly. He dropped his grip in order to offer you the customary greeting of his hand to his forehead before immediately returning to hold his wrist again.

You offered the gesture back to him before asking, "Is everything alright?" He gave an embarrassed smile and said, "I touched a plant in the water with my hand, and now it burns. I was told to come here for a remedy." You knew immediately what it was, and you offered him a sympathetic look. Taking his hand, you inspected it to confirm your suspicion.

"We learn at a young age not to touch the sea nettle," you told him with a faint smile. "Think of it as a rite of passage." His lips turned upwards at your words. "Then I suppose I'm one step closer to becoming Metkayina," he joked. You chuckled as you searched for the treatment for nettle.

While he waited for you, he sat down on the floor and said, "I do not believe we have met before. I am Neteyam." You cast a brief glance over your shoulder with a smile. "I know who you are, Neteyam te Suli," you told him. "But you are right, we have not met. I suppose that is my fault, I have been very busy since you arrived." After finding the correct bowl, you sat down across from him and introduced yourself properly.

"You are the tsakarem, yes?" Neteyam clarified as you took his hand to inspect it for any remaining nettles. "I am," you confirmed, trying not to appear proud or arrogant in the title. "I spend much of my time here in the village. I have been able to become acquainted with your mother and sisters, though you and your brother seem rarely to leave the water."

Neteyam nodded with a small smile. "We have been learning so much," he told you. "It is all still so new to us." You hummed in understanding. "You seem to be adjusting well to the reef," you observed.

Before he could respond, you took the small bowl of oil and held it above his hand. "This will sting at first," you warned. He nodded, and you poured a small amount over his palm. As you had predicted, he tensed at the pain, and you could see the muscles in his arms flex reactively. He took a deep breath and relaxed as the pain ebbed away.

Carefully, you took your thumbs and rubbed them down his palm. "Let me know if I am hurting you," you told him quietly. He remained silent as you massaged the oil into his hand. You felt his eyes on your face, so you glanced up at him. He didn't look away, keeping his amber eyes fixed on your face, and he offered you a soft smile. You were only able to hold his gaze for a few seconds before becoming slightly embarrassed, and you quickly looked back down at your hands again.

"It feels much better," he said after a moment. "I'm glad," you replied earnestly. "I haven't touched sea nettle since I was very young, but I remember the sting of it very well." He nodded his head with an ironic grin. "I don't think I will forget this any time soon," he agreed.

You continued working the oil into his skin for a moment, and you still felt his eyes on your face, though you didn't look up at him again until you were finished. Dropping his hand, you said, "Try to avoid nettle in the future. We usually save the remedy for children, but I made an exception for you this time."

He grinned at you. "I am very grateful," he told you, placing his hand over his heart. "And I will take more care in the future." Smiling at him, you replied, "I hope so. I don't want to have to patch you up every day."

He looked at you in amusement. "I'm sure there are worse ways to spend the day," he teased. You shook your head with a small laugh. "Perhaps," you conceded. "But there are certainly more productive things to do as well."

"Thank you," he said as he moved to stand up. "I will see you later tonight?" You blinked in surprise. You saw him every night during the evening meal from afar, but since you had never spoken to him before, you were surprised at his forwardness.

"I suppose," you replied, then added with a smirk, "That is unless you hurt yourself again before then." He gave you a cheeky smile. "No promises," he responded playfully.

You saw the forest boy more often after that. Sometimes he would come in claiming to be searching for his mother and then stay and talk with you. Other times, he would come in with scrapes and cuts not severe enough to warrant Ronal's expertise, but deep enough to justify seeing you for help.

Sometimes, you wondered if he was getting hurt on purpose. You didn't mind though. He was sweet and enjoyable, and he always told you stories of himself and his siblings in the forest. You knew he missed it very much, but he hid his longing behind all the funny tales of his family.

One person who was wary of your friendship with Neteyam and his family was Aonung. He had his mother's distrusting nature as well as her pride, and as his intended mate, you knew he wasn't happy with how close you had become to them. He never said anything directly to you, but he would drop subtle comments about them when you were around. Whenever you were helping teach the forest children, he watched closely for how you interacted with them. You could feel the tension between him and the Sullys, and it all came to a head about two months after they had arrived at the reef.

You were sorting things when you heard a commotion outside. You looked out in confusion before Aonung pushed his way into the tent. You took in a sharp breath as you got a look at his face.

He looked awful. His eye was starting to swell, there was blood dripping from his nose, and dark purple bruises were beginning to form on his cheek. "What happened?!" You asked him sharply as some of his friends followed in behind him sporting similar injuries on their faces. Aonung didn't look at you, but one of his friends behind him chimed in, "It was the forest boys."

You scowled at Aonung. "What did you do?" You demanded to know. He shot you an irritated look. "You are accusing me?" he asked incredulously. Your scowl deepened as you glared up at him suspiciously. "Yes," you said. "I am." He scoffed at you. He wasn't afraid of your ire when he knew he had the privilege of being the son of the two clan leaders to protect him.

"They do not belong here," he told you. "I don't know why you are so fond of those freaks." His friends behind him muttered their approval at his statement. You turned your glare to them, and they immediately fell silent and looked away. Even if Aonung didn't fear you, at least they did.

"They are here under uturu," you said in a harsh whisper. "We must treat them with respect and dignity." Aonung rolled his eyes at your words. "Where is my mother?" he asked, ignoring your statement. You huffed an irritated breath. "Out," you responded crossly, walking over to where Ronal kept her store of medicines and other mending materials.

You pulled out a jar of ointment and handed it to Aonung. "For the cuts," you told him. "Now go." You pointed at the entrance of your tent resolutely, maintaining a level glare at him. He held your gaze for a moment before taking the bowl and walking away, his friends in tow.

You closed your eyes in exasperation. How could they all be so stuck up and stupid? You knew that Aonung took great pride in being the next in line for Olo'eyktan, but you had never seen him act so rude and self-absorbed. Honestly, it was embarrassing for you.

After a moment, you decided to go out to see if you could find one or both of the Omatikayan boys to apologize on behalf of Aonung. Stepping out, you headed over to where their family was residing. From a distance, you could see that Lo'ak was stepping out of the tent, his face downcast and irritated. He was still too far from you to try and call out to him, so you skipped briskly along the suspended walkways between you to try and catch up to him.

Despite your urgent pace, Lo'ak quickly moved in the opposite direction from you, but from their tent, Neteyam walked out into the light of the sun wearing a subtle smile on his face. Approaching his tent, you called out to him. He glanced up at you in mild surprise and offered a polite nod.

You studied his face for injuries, but besides a busted lip, he seemed relatively unharmed. "I know what happened with Aonung," you began. "Well, sort of. I am very sorry about him and his friends." He gave you a soft smile and shook his head casually. "It was not your fault," he said simply. "There is no need for you to apologize."

As he spoke, you noticed the fresh blood on his lip from his cut. "You are cut," you observed. "Come with me." You grabbed his arm to lead him back to the healing canopy, but he resisted, shaking his head again. "This is nothing," he told you gently. "I will be fine."

You didn't let go of his arm. "You have come to our home as guests," you said softly. "Aonung and his friends have treated you dishonorably. Please, let me make it right." You gazed up at his face imploringly, and after a moment, his face softened and he nodded. "Alright," he conceded and followed your pulling hand.

Entering under the cover of your canopy, you had Neteyam sit down while you took out a small cloth and a salve. Dampening the cloth with fresh water, you turned to where he was sitting patiently for you.

Taking his jaw in your hand gently, you turned his face so that you could inspect the cut better. Neteyam's eyes stayed on your face for a moment before glancing away to fixate on the tent walls. In addition to the cut on his lip, you also noticed some more purplish spots starting to form on his neck.

You traced your fingers over the forming bruises on his neck. Neteyam tensed at your touch, and his eyes quickly darted to your face. You pulled back your hand from his neck and said, "Sorry." He gave you a subtle smirk. "It doesn't hurt," he assured you. "Just sensitive."

"Ah," you said in a low voice, looking away from his eyes sheepishly. You started to clean away the blood on his lip. "What did he do to start the fight?" You asked him, changing the subject. He blinked slowly and shook his head. "It does not matter," he replied in a quiet voice, looking away from you.

Your grip on his jaw tightened slightly, and you turned his face back so he would look you in the eyes. "What did he do?" You asked again in a more insistent tone. You could see him contemplating, and you held his face and gaze in expectant silence.

"He was making fun of Kiri and Lo'ak," he relented. "He called them freaks." The grip of your hand holding his face tightened reflexively as anger burned in your chest. You closed your eyes for a second to regain your composure before turning his head back to continue attending to his cut.

"I am very sorry, Neteyam," you murmured earnestly. "He never should have said those things." In your peripheral vision, you could see that his eyes were fixated on your face, but you kept your focus on his lip. "You do not have to apologize," he repeated from earlier, trying to keep his mouth still as he spoke. "You have shown nothing but kindness to my family since we arrived."

You glanced up for a moment to meet his eyes. He was looking back at you with a soft gaze, and you became aware of how close you were to his face. You turned away from him as you felt your cheeks grow warm to pull out the salve you had. Taking a small swatch on your thumb, you brushed it gently over his lip. You could feel his eyes on you as you did, and despite your best efforts, you glanced up at them. A beat of tense silence passed as you looked at each other wordlessly, one of your hands holding his face while the other was tracing his mouth.

Worried that he may be able to hear your heart pounding, you thought desperately of something to say. "He is intimidated by you," you said finally as you dropped your hands from his face and looked down from his eyes. Neteyam cocked his head to the side. "Aonung?" He clarified. You nodded as you wiped the remaining salve off of your fingers.

"He is the son of Olo'eyktan," you explained, shifting to sit on the floor next to him. "There has never been anybody to challenge that status until now, but not only was your father Olo'eyktan as well, but he was Toruk Makto. We were raised hearing stories of him. Some sound too strange to be true."

Neteyam looked at you in curiosity. "Stories?" He repeated. "Like what?"

You smiled, somewhat embarrassed. "There are many," you said slowly. "He was once a human, a warrior from the stars." Neteyam nodded his head slowly. "That is true," he confirmed. You thought back for more rumors. "They say he killed one of the Na'vi to possess his body," you mentioned.

Neteyam let out a small, surprised laugh. "That one is not true," he said, amused at the story. "The Sky People grew his body from the blood of his brother and Na'vi blood, and his spirit now resides in it." Your forehead scrunched in confusion. "The blood of his brother?" You echoed, perplexed.

He shrugged his shoulder nonchalantly. "I don't even fully understand it," he admitted. "But the important thing is that no, he didn't possess anybody else's body to become one of the People." You nodded faintly, still very confused about Neteyam's answer.

"What else have you heard?" He prompted. You thought back to the way you imagined Toruk Makto before he came here. You had thought he would be large and intimidating like Tonowari, but with an authoritarian attitude and little humor. It was almost comical how he really was just like any other Na'vi father aside from some small physical differences and his accent.

"I thought he couldn't speak in the Na'vi tongue," you added. "We all thought he spoke a strange language." Neteyam nodded again. "When he led the revolt against the Sky People," he explained, "he spoke very little Na'vi. His first language is called English."

You tilted your head at the funny word. "English," you repeated. He smiled at your accent and nodded. "He usually only speaks it with my family," he said. "Many of the Omatikaya can speak it a little, too." You smiled back before asking, "What does it sound like?"

Neteyam shrugged. "What do you want me to say?" He said in English. You couldn't help but giggle at the strange language. "What does that mean?" You asked. He smiled at you in amusement. "I simply asked what you wanted me to say," he clarified.

You hummed thoughtfully as you came up with a phrase for him to say. You looked out at the afternoon sun casting brilliant reflections on the water outside of your tent. "The sea is very beautiful," you said finally. He looked out at the water for a moment. "The sea is very beautiful," he replied before looking back at you and adding, "and so are you."

You tilted your head and eyed him suspiciously. The pause between his words sounded like he said something extra. "All of that means 'The sea is very beautiful?'" You questioned skeptically. He glanced away for a moment with a faint smile. "Not all of it," he admitted. He paused for a moment, and then he said, "I said 'The sea is very beautiful, but I miss the forest.'"

"Ah," you said, nodding in understanding. "It must be very hard for you to be away from it." He sighed, looking back out at the sea with a far-away stare. "It is," he agreed after a while. "It is so different there. The sounds, the smells, everything. I don't think I have ever spent so much time in the sun as I have here."

You laughed at his last statement. "What do you mean?" You asked. He pointed out to where a few large, craggy precipices jutted out over the water. "The trees where I am from are higher than those cliffs," he explained. "When you are in the forest, very little sunlight reaches the ground."

Looking out to where he pointed, you shook your head in amazement. "I cannot even imagine trees like that," you said in wonder. He turned to you with a soft smile. "I'll take you to see them someday," he promised.

You smiled up at him, but it quickly faded away. You shook your head and looked away from his face. "No," you sighed regretfully. "I am tsakarem. It would not be right for me to leave the reef." He hummed in understanding. "I imagine your intended would not be happy about it either," he commented, watching you for your reaction.

You shifted uncomfortably. "No," you conceded quietly, "probably not."

When he didn't respond, you glanced up at his face and saw he was gazing at you expectantly. "He is not entirely to blame," you defended gently. "He and I have a great responsibility to the clan. He has carried it his whole life, but I am still getting used to it." He gave a small nod in understanding. "I have carried it my whole life, too," he said, then added in English, "but it didn't make me into an ass."

You smiled at the strange words and shot him a quizzical look. "I said, 'It is a heavy burden to bear,'" he translated for you. You nodded in agreement, and you missed the wry grin on his face.

"It must be nice for you finally to be free of that burden," you reflected. He heaved a heavy sigh and shook his head. "Even though my father is no longer Olo'eyktan, he still holds the title of Toruk Makto," he countered. "It is one that will always follow him, and so it will always follow me."

He stared out at the water in contemplation. There was a pause, and Neteyam gave another sigh. You could see the weight of his family's legacy on his face, and you felt a sense of compassion for him. "A heavy burden," you repeated his words quietly. He didn't say anything, lost in his own internal musings.

Even though you knew that the expectations weren't quite the same, you felt that on some level, you understood the struggle of upholding the standard of greatness in life. Your parents were very proud of your status of tsakarem, and you felt the pressure of it from them as well as Ronal, whose expectations were higher than everyone else.

"I never understood how heavy it was until now," you commented. "But I accepted my role. You were born into yours." Neteyam looked at you carefully and tilted his head in curiosity. "You accepted it," he repeated, "but did you actually want it?"

His question caught you off guard. As you pondered it, you felt a strange mix of emotions stirring in your chest. Nobody had ever considered that you wouldn't want to be tsakarem. It was easy to get swept up in the honor and prestige and forget about the fact that you were surrendering many of the freedoms you had previously enjoyed in order to prepare yourself to help lead the clan.

Your throat tightened unexpectedly as you thought about his question. Neteyam must have noticed your reaction because he shook his head apologetically. "I'm sorry," he said. "I did not mean to upset you." His words snapped you out of your thoughts. You shook your head dismissively and gave a weak smile.

"It's okay," you assured him. "I just..." you trailed off, not sure of what to say. After a beat, he took your hand comfortingly. "You carry the title with great dignity," he told you reassuringly. "And you bring honor to your people."

Your chest warmed at his words, easing the strain of his earlier question. With a shy smile, you asked, "How do you say 'thank you' in English?" He chuckled at your question. "Thank you," he told you in English.

"Thank you," you repeated in his funny language. He gave you a warm smile. "You're welcome," he replied. "You're welcome," you echoed thoughtfully. He nodded in approval. "That was almost perfect," he complimented. You hummed at his praise. "You'll have to teach me to speak it perfectly," you told him. He smiled as he looked at you. "I will," he promised gently.

You felt your cheeks warm at his soft gaze. You had never seen eyes quite like his. They were a shade of yellow you had never seen before, almost greenish in the reflections from the water. In the prolonged silence, you realized that he was still holding your hand, so you blinked and pulled it away gently while you desperately thought of something to say.

"Your cut will heal within the next couple of days," you said finally. He blinked as though pulled from deep thought and nodded gratefully. "You are very kind," he told you. "Thank you."

You smiled. "You're welcome," you told him, trying your best to accurately mimic the way he said the phrase.

He chuckled at your use of his language. "You're a fast learner," he praised and then sighed. "I should go find my brother," he added. You nodded in understanding, and you both stood up. Before he could leave, you said, "Please send my apologies to Lo'ak."

Neteyam shook his head with a reproachful smile. He brought his hand up to your face and tilted your chin upwards with his fingers to look him in the eye. "You need to stop apologizing for things you didn't do," he told you earnestly. Then, he dropped his hand and walked out of the tent before you could reply and before he could see the deep blush forming on your face.

Later that evening, you had taken Tuk out to feed the ilus. Waist deep in the water, you both giggled as the pod of ilus gathered around, swimming in eager circles around you. You and the young girl took turns feeding them one by one.

"I think this one likes me," Tuk giggled as one of the animals nudged her side affectionately. "Yes, well, that one is notorious for loving whoever has the food," you said with a laugh. Taking a fish from the basket, Tuk fed the cuddly ilu. "Then I'll feed him every day," she said with a bright smile.

From behind you, you could hear someone moving through the water. You turned and saw Neteyam wading out to where you and Tuk were standing. Noticing her older brother, Tuk called out, "Look, Neteyam! Come feed the ilus with us."

Neteyam offered his sister a quick smile before it melted into a more urgent look.

"Have either of you seen Lo'ak?" He asked. You glanced at Tuk, who looked back at you with the same confused look. "I haven't seen him since I saw you last," you told him. "Is everything alright?"

Neteyam glanced quickly at his younger sister before looking back at you. "It's probably nothing, I'm just looking for him." He started to walk back out of the water, and you could see the look of agitation on his face. You handed Tuk the basket of fish and said, "Here, you keep feeding them, I'll be right back."

You moved out of the water to follow after Neteyam. He must've heard you behind him because he slowed down and waited for you to catch up to him. Stepping behind him, you asked, "What's wrong?"

He shot you a worried glance. "I've looked everywhere. There is no sign of him, and nobody has seen him." Your forehead scrunched up at his words. "When did you last see him?" You asked. He gave a loose shrug and replied, "Earlier today, same as you."

"At your home?" You clarified questioningly. He nodded. "Yes, after my father told him to go..." he trailed off, and you could see that a thought had entered his mind. His worried face hardened into aggravation, his jaw clenched, and his head tilted as he fought to compose his anger.

"What is it?" You questioned in concern. Neteyam took a moment to close his eyes before muttering, "Aonung." Your stomach dropped a little bit at his name. Surely, he wouldn't have caused any more trouble than he already had.

Neteyam turned from you sharply and walked at a brisk pace towards the village. You struggled to keep pace behind him. "What about Aonung?" You asked, confused. Without breaking his stride, Neteyam said, "My father told Lo'ak to apologize to him earlier, and that was the last time I saw him."

A feeling of unease settled over you, and you prayed that Lo'ak was just off brooding somewhere instead of being in trouble. As you both quickly stepped across the beach, you caught Aonung's familiar form standing in the shallow water.

"You," Neteyam called out to him in a hard tone. Aonung had been staring out at the water towards the Sea Wall, but at the sound of Neteyam's voice, he whipped around. He was immediately defensive as Neteyam stepped up to him in the water.

"Where is my brother?" He demanded. Aonung scoffed. "He's your brother," he replied in a haughty voice. "Aren't you the one supposed to babysit him?" Neteyam shot the other boy a burning glare and took a step forward to get in his face, causing Aonung to take an uneasy step back. "I kicked your ass once already today," Neteyam stated. "I will do it again if I have to."

"Enough," you said firmly, not wanting a repeat of their earlier altercation. The boys didn't say anything, still holding each other's glare. "Aonung, do you know where Lo'ak is?" You asked. After a brief pause, Aonung's eyes glanced away from Neteyam over to you, and you saw the uneasy look he had.

Your stomach sank. "Where is he?" You pressed, feeling frustrated at his silence. You could see his hesitation before he finally relented, "I'm not sure. We...we left him at Three Brothers Rock."

You inhaled sharply. "Aonung," you whispered, horrified. He didn't look at you, the severity of his actions sinking in. Neteyam was a little lost. "Where is that?" He asked you, desperate to know where his brother was. You didn't answer him, still looking at Aonung in disbelief.

"How could you do that?" you asked quietly, and he averted his eyes. You glanced back at Neteyam. "It is way out past the reef," you said. "It is not close, and it is very dangerous for him to be alone."

At your words, Neteyam's face twisted in anger. He stepped towards Aongung again, but you had anticipated his reaction and moved quickly to stand between them and placed a hand on his chest. "No fighting," you told him sternly. "We need to gather a search party for Lo'ak, not waste time giving each other more injuries for me to tend to later on."

Both the boys stared at each other for a moment before Neteyam looked down at you and gave you a barely-perceptible nod. You let your hand drop from his chest and looked over at Aonung. "When did you leave?" You asked him.

He shook his head uncomfortably. "It's been a few hours," he admitted. You closed your eyes with a heavy sigh. Neteyam huffed a sharp breath and grabbed Aonung by the back of his neck. "I'm done with this," he muttered and marched him back to the village.

A search party was quickly organized. Several warriors and divers on skimwings and ilus assembled to search for Lo'ak. With the sun receding behind the planet, you and the rest of your friends were ordered to stay within the Sea Wall.

You saw Neteyam pacing anxiously on the beach, looking out for any sign of his brother's return. You walked up to him carefully. "I'm sure they will find him soon," you assured him, breaking him from his thoughts. He heaved a large sigh and looked out towards the water.

"I should have been with him," he murmured. "This wouldn't have happened if I had been with him." You looked at him with sympathy. "You can't blame yourself," you told him gently. "If anyone is to blame, it is Aonung." He didn't argue with you, and you both knew you were right.

You sat down on the sand with a sigh, and after a moment, Neteyam followed suit and sat down beside you. "I have known him almost my whole life," you said as you sifted some sand between your fingers. "He has always been proud and stubborn, but he has never been malicious." You couldn't deny that Aonung's behavior towards the Sullys before had made you uncomfortable and disappointed, but this was on a whole new level, and you felt as though you didn't even know him at all.

You sighed again and looked over at Neteyam. He was staring out at the water with a blank gaze. You weren't sure what else to say. You couldn't assure him of his brother's safe return because there was a very real chance he was not safe. So, you just sat in silence beside him.

As the evening turned into night, Lo'ak eventually returned unharmed, much to the relief of you and Neteyam. After taking the blame for Aonung, an uneasy but not unfriendly relationship started between him and Lo'ak, and Neteyam put aside his anger for his brother's sake.

The next day, Lo'ak recounted how a lone tulkun had saved him from the akula the day before. After describing the creature who saved his life, Tsireya quickly realized that the tulkun was the outcast Payakan.

"I'm telling you guys, he saved my life," Lo'ak explained insistently. "He is my friend."

Everyone had doubtful looks, but Neteyam stood up with a jaunty smile and grabbed his brother by the shoulders. "My baby bro," he said lightheartedly. "The mighty warrior who faced the killer tulkun and lived to tell about it."

Lo'ak was not amused and pushed his brother's hands off of him. "You guys aren't listening," he huffed and walked away. You all called out to him, but he continued away in irritation. Tsireya followed after him, and the others all disbursed to start the day.

You remained sitting there, perplexed at what you had heard. Everyone in the clan knew about the dangerous, young bull who had killed both Na'vi and other tulkun, and Lo'ak's assertions of Payakan's innocence unsettled you. Deep in thought, you hadn't even realized that Neteyam had stayed behind until he asked, "What are you thinking?"

You blinked, startled out of your thoughts. You gave a short sigh. "Tsireya is right," you told him. "If it was Payakan, then your brother is lucky to be alive. Payakan is very dangerous." Neteyam looked out for a moment to where Lo'ak had stormed off. "He seems to think differently," he commented.

You shifted uncomfortably. "I do believe your brother sees Payakan as a friend, but there is a reason for his exile." You looked out at the water and shook your head faintly. "The good thing is that Lo'ak is safe," you told him.

He smiled at you warmly. "That is true," he conceded. "And I appreciate your concern for my brother. It means a lot." You shrugged and replied, "You are my friend. What concerns you concerns me."

He offered his hand to help pull you up. You took it, and he pulled you up effortlessly. After you steadied yourself, you moved to walk off, but Neteyam didn't let go of your hand. You looked up at his face questioningly, and he was staring back at you with a soft smile.

"I'm serious," he told you earnestly. "Your friendship means a lot to me. Thank you." His face was so sincere and his voice so heartfelt that you didn't respond for a moment. "You're welcome," you replied finally. He held your gaze for a moment, the corner of his lips turned upwards, before dropping your hand and walking away to begin the day.

As you watched him disappear, you couldn't help but wonder why it was exactly that your heart was beating so quickly.

Chapter 2

#avatar the way of water #avatar #neteyam fic #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #neteyam angst #avatar fanfiction #neteyam x metkayina!reader #kiri sully #loak sully #tuk sully #jake sully #neytiri #aonung #tsireya #slow burn #forbidden lust #forbidden love #forbidden relationship

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cemeterything · 1 year

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you said you grew up by the sea!! can i ask what the sea means to you? i am so emotional about the ocean i've always been so unspeakably fascinated and enamored by it

it's hard to describe because the ocean was such a constant presence that it was just kind of a part of life for me growing up. i didn't really realize how fortunate i was to have it so easily accessible until i lost it when i moved to the city.

i guess the best word to describe it would be "powerful". like i said, you could never forget that the ocean was There, even if you weren't standing anywhere near it. on days when the wind blew strongly enough in the right direction, you could hear it, and smell it. the smell of brine and seaweed was the backdrop of daily life for me growing up, and the town i grew up in was so small that whenever i left the house i was almost guaranteed to pass the ocean on my way to wherever i was going.

the danger of it was simultaneously something you quickly became desensitized to and something you never really forgot. there was always a part of you that knew that the sea could just take you at any time, no matter how careful you were. it wasn't uncommon to see a pile of flowers on the promenade as you walked by marking where someone had been washed out and drowned. pretty much everyone knew someone who had died despite the sea walls and warning signs. there were days when the waves were so strong that even the grey concrete walls that were several feet thick in the most reinforced places couldn't keep them from crashing over onto the walkways.

the beach was sand and stone, and the water was full of clouds of silt too thick to see through even with protective eyewear. you never knew how deep the water was beneath you unless your feet could touch the bottom, or what was down there. it was something you quickly got used to, the knowledge that you'd never be totally safe but were willing to take the risk. most people who got hurt or killed were, predictably, teenagers and young adults who decided to push the boundaries of how much of a risk they could take. i was one of those kids. most of us were. despite being all too aware of the danger, we never really believed that it would happen to us. at the same time, we knew we weren't immune. that's why we did it - for the thrill. i still have scars from all the times i was thrown against rocks and barnacles, stepped wrong while scrambling over rocks and slipped, or was scraped over the ocean floor. i still remember staggering and collapsing onto the shore with my heart pounding so hard my chest hurt after almost being swept out to sea, realizing how close i had come to being drowned or smashed to pieces. i remember shrugging it all off and heading back in five minutes later, accepting that the sea would take me if she wanted me and that there was nothing i could do about it, so i might as well enjoy myself.

knowing how to swim was basically mandatory, even if you never got in the water. if you could learn how to swim and didn't, you were a fool. the local swimming pool offered free lessons, and safety campaigns were a regular feature of school and community event. i could still recite some of the slogans and warnings to you now, they're so ingrained into my head (not that i didn't choose to ignore them sometimes).

small businesses thrived on the waterfront. there were so many cheap food places to choose from when you wanted a snack, from ice cream vendors to hot fried food vans to cafes and corner stores. people didn't even bother to put their clothes and shoes on over their swimwear to cross the road and grab a bite to eat on warm summer days.

body and gender neutrality was extremely normalized. nobody cared who you were or what you looked like; once you were in the sea the clouds of silt hid your body from view, and the water made everyone look more or less the same - like a sopping wet beast.

the natural environment was incredible. there was so much life everywhere - sea plants, crabs and smaller crustaceans, seabirds and fish. you could buy fresh catches each morning from local fishermen. sharks and seals were a rare novelty, a community event of sorts.

community events often made use of the seaside. sailing was easily accessible; even if you couldn't afford your own boat, there was a sailing club with a surplus. the local horse rescue volunteer association i worked at took the horses down to ride by the beach and in the water in summertime, and it was some of the most fun i ever had galloping through the waves, soaking wet and shivering with excitement and cold. there were bonfires on the beach in the fall, and fireworks and hot drinks and stories around the fireside in the winter. it was an incredibly, terrifyingly free place to live, where the only real limits were your own. i honestly can't do it justice in words. i miss it every day.

#🐉

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idksmtms · 2 months

Text

You Are Not One Of Us (Poseidon x Norse Goddess!reader) - Part 3

Full Request - Part 2

AN: I’m so sorry this is so late! I’ve been so busy with life and then I was so tired I kinda lost the motivation to write but I’m back now!!! Also, sorry this is so short, it's kind of a filler before all the big stuff happens!

Side note: I’m so proud of the way I choose to show their messaging systems - will continue in ending note -

Summary: Forced apart, you and Poseidon try to find ways to communicate.

Word count: 2,604

Trigger Warnings: she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, profanity, innuendo, age gap (even tho they are both thousands of years old), god racism?? Idk they act like “foreigner gods” is a bad thing, lusting, liking the fact that he looks older (is this a warning???), (please let me know if I missed any)

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Percy Jackson and the Olympians characters. I do not claim to own any of the Percy Jackson and the Olympians characters. I do not own any pictures used nor do I claim to do so.

Always appreciate comments, likes, and reblogs :)

After you were thrown from Olympus and forbidden to even be near your love, it stormed for two weeks straight. With every day of the storm, more houses were destroyed, more people hurt, with no sign of an end. The people trekked to Poseidon’s temples every day with offerings, they prayed until their voices were hoarse, but the rain didn’t cease. The people believed he had given up on them, that they had done something to anger him. They didn’t know the utter heartbreak that coursed with the ichor in his veins. They didn’t know that this was the true despair of a god, that it could destroy them all.

You had been taken back to Asgard and cared for like you were newly-made, the Aesir tip-toeing around you and hoping not to set off any catastrophes. You had become numb since you had been brought home, moving around the halls of Valhalla like a lost spirit. Odin and Frigg tried so hard to bring you back, to do something that would return you to yourself, but it was all in vain. The only thing that you could possibly want was him.

Every day you walked the fjords, standing right on the edge of a cliff, the breeze pressing on your back, hoping to push you off. You had roamed every inch of the fjords, combed every cliffedge. You waited for Pegasus to find you, to whisk you away to your love, but the winged stallion never came. You hoped for a sign, any sign that both of you weren’t lost to each other, but nothing came.

And then, when you were beginning to lose all hope, you looked down over the edge of the cliff, straight down and into the swirling waters that frothed and smashed against the sharp rocks. There was no pegasus, but a huge clump of seaweed. You had never seen the seaweed come up near the fjords before in your whole existence, not this much anyway. It was always deep under the water, or only a few specks of it floated up and washed ashore. But there was so much of it floating near the edge that it created an island on the water.

Your heart stopped in your chest as you watched it float to the cliff wall and bump against it. Again and again it floated into the cliff, as if waiting for something before it would allow itself to disperse. You clenched your hands together, breath suddenly shallow, then took a run and jumped off the cliff.

The water was icy, and your skin began to tingle as the bubbles floated up around you and to the surface. You waited until they had all disappeared then allowed yourself to push to the surface as well, treading water and staring up at the sky for a moment. It had been so long since you had gone swimming, since you had enjoyed the sea as you once had, and it felt immeasurably good to be immersed in it once more. You smiled, wider and brighter than you had ever done since being back from Olympus. You allowed yourself to drop into the water again and again, ceasing the swirling of your arms and legs to just float in it. It felt like a hug from Poseidon. Then you swam over to the island of kelp and began sifting through it.

Carefully pulling each piece away and gathering it into your other hand. If it truly was a message from him you wouldn’t let any of it go to waste. It was slippery and a little slimy but you just held on tighter as you straightened out each piece and lay it in your other hand. Right in the centre of the bundle, you found five oyster shells. They were placed in a perfectly straight row in the perfect centre of the kelp and they were… perfect. You had never seen an oyster like that, perfectly black on the outside like a mussel but still rippled so you knew it was an oyster. You reached out and gently picked one up. Your hands shook and tears filled your eyes until the oyster became blurry. You wiped at them haphazardly, blinking until you could see again and the tears had mixed into the seawater.

The oyster was just barely open, a thin crack that you tried to peek through, but you couldn’t see anything inside. You dug your nails into the opening and used whatever godly strength you possess to pry it open just enough without breaking it fully. It was a rather delicate task and you had to stop a few times for fear of cracking the shell, but when you got it open you found a beautiful pearl sitting in the centre. It wasn’t perfectly round (as you found that natural pearls rarely were) and was actually rather flat with its edges poking out here and there so it looked like a splash of water in pearl form. You picked it out of the shell, the oyster within not giving any resistance, and you held it in your palm. It seemed smooth, and glinted different colours in the grey light. You flipped it over, and you found that there were little scratches on the pearl. They were much too small for you to decipher at first, but as you brought it closer to your eye and realised that it was writing, your heart began to thunder. ‘To have and to hold’ was all it said. You stared at it, heart in your throat, and gently placed it back in the oyster, shutting it and resting it on its bed. The next was the same, except this pearl was smoother around the edges, almost like a flat oval. ‘For better or worse’ it said in the same small writing. The one after it was almost perfectly round but also flat and thin like a drachma. ‘For richer or for poorer’. The next pearl was sharp, its edges jagged and spiking out. ‘Until death do us part’. You caressed it, allowing the sharpest edge to cut into your skin and the bead of blood to stain the pearl. You whispered each word aloud as you opened the pearls, hoping that since you were in the water that he could hear it, that he would know. The final pearl was a perfect sphere and as large as the first segment of your pinky finger. The writing was inscribed around it, and you spun it over and over, reading the words until they were screaming inside your head, until you couldn’t read them anymore because your eyes were streaming with tears and you were sobbing so heavily that water splashed up and into your mouth. ‘I love you’ it read, inscribed over and over around the pearl so that it looked like it was scratched all over.

You floated there for a moment, staring at the vows, at the pearls, then let yourself sink under the water, eyes closed. You screamed the words into the water, bubbles floating around your face, voice garbled, but you screamed until you had no air left and even your body began to tire. You wanted him to hear you, needed him to know. Then you surfaced, breathing heavily and feeling lighter than you had before coming to the cliffs. You looked at each pearl again, caressed them, then gently placed them back into their shells. You wrapped the shells up in the seaweed, creating a tight parcel and tying it up with the seaweed you had stripped away before. You stayed in the water a while longer, feeling the caress of it on your skin, pretending it was his arms wrapping around you, his fingers running up and down your arms. Then, when it became close to the time of the nightly feast and knowing the others would begin to worry if you did not show up, you grabbed the parcel and made your way back to your new home, a small house built at the bottom of the hills that led to the cliff edges.

It was more of a hut, built in the viking style and furnished sparsely. You had lost all your taste for glamour in the last weeks, lost the feeling of being a goddess, and had conjured this place, quiet and secluded and right by the cliffs you had once enjoyed. You left the pile of seaweed in the hall of the house by the entrance, thinking of ways to decorate your house with it. You placed the shells in order on a shelf just above your bed. You didn’t want the pearls themselves to be exposed, just in case someone came snooping. You looked at them longingly and kissed each shell before making the journey back to Valhalla. You had to find a way to send a message in return. You had to.

Poseidon sat on the beach he had once brought you to. He stared out at the water’s edge, watching a happy couple walk along it, a woman in a beautiful dress kicking up splashes of water and the man staring down at her with such devotion in his eyes. He watched them press close to each other, walk further into the water, let it roll over them. He watched them kiss, felt it on his own lips, then a wave crashed over the shadows and they disappeared into seafoam and the sparkle of sunlight on the water.

Poseidon pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, sighing heavily and shaking his head as he muttered angrily to himself. Though he had been forced to stop the storms lest he flood all of Greece, the one in his head never ceased. You were his every thought, consuming him from the inside. He had gone to the lake on Olympus everyday for the week he had been forced to stay there after your banishment. Zeus has wanted all the gods together to feast and be merry for the return of his bolt. Poseidon had not spoken a word the entire time, glaring at his brother with such fire that even Hephaestus could not conjure a flame with such heat. The rest of the time was either spent watching Hermes, trying to figure out if all of this was really his doing, or making the trek to the lake to sit on one of the boulders, feet dipped into the water, and reminiscing on the time he had with you.

Even since had returned to his domain, nothing felt right. The usually comforting embrace of the water now felt hollow. The feeling of the sand under his feet did not mean anything now that he couldn’t share it with you. He no longer felt like the god of the seas, just a god of… nothing. Everywhere he looked he saw something that reminded him of you. He could not escape your memory even if he were trying. Even now, sitting on the beach where you had first kissed, he could only hope you had received his pearls, his vows of marriage.

A butterfly, blue and shiny, fluttered into view. He watched it flap its wings and fly in little twirls, as if looking for something. Then it began to flutter closer, circling its way to him. He watched the little creature with a sad smile, wishing you were here to see it. He knew you would love it. But the butterfly kept coming closer, flittering and fluttering until it sat itself on the tip of his nose. His eyes crossed as he tried to stare at it, eyebrows knitting in a frown, as the insect flapped its wings once, twice, then laid them out flat and stopped moving entirely. Without the strength of its little legs gripping to his nose, the butterfly fell away and into his lap, laying on his thigh as still and dead as he felt. His frown deepened, staring at the creature with its legs poking up into the air and wings perfectly flat.

The structure and pattern suggested it was a monarch butterfly, but they didn’t come in blue. It was old, at least for its species, around 6 weeks if he were to guess, right at the end of its life. With the gentlest movements, he dug his fingertips under the wings of the dead butterfly and lifted it closer to his eyes. He flipped it over and examined the backs of its wings, the beautiful blue that somehow shined even brighter now that it was dead. He stared at the black lines that swirled over the wings, creating little pockets of blue and edged with dots of white. It was in the black lines that he found writing, in the smallest letters possible. Where the lines swirled and made pockets, letters followed them. And there, on the wings of this butterfly that seemed to randomly appear on this beach and randomly choose to land on him, he found his wedding vows. Each one he had sent, returned in the beautiful writing of a goddess. And right at the bottom, in the biggest letters, ‘I love you’. He could almost hear your voice, a whisper in the wind, and he closed his eyes lest the tears fall.

Years passed without a word from neither him nor you. You had settled into your life with the Aesir again, comforted by the pearls that sat above your bed. You opened the shells every night and gazed at them, whispering the words and hoping that somewhere in the sea he felt your love. He too returned to his palace underwater, the butterfly encased in clear ice to be frozen as long as he lived, a reminder that you had said yes, that you had married him. Both of you felt safer knowing he was yours and you were his. It was not a traditional wedding by any means, but it was yours, and you would cherish it until the end of your days.

After the first three decades of peace and no sign of anyone knowing that you had sent messages to each other, you sent one more, another butterfly with a simple reminder that you loved him. In return you received a conch shell, not too large but still a hefty weight in your palm. When you lifted it to your ear, in the whisper of the ocean you could hear his voice, telling you he loved you. Every night you put it to your ear and let it lull you to sleep.

So many years passed in this way, changes coming and going, empires rising and falling. Suddenly the modem age arrived, bringing its technology and skyscrapers and all of you gods into each other’s vicinity once more. Now the Greek gods were huddled in New York, living lavishly atop the Empire State building while the halls of the Aesir occupied Boston, hiding in plain sight. The battles continued, the monsters still roared, but things had become slow, the gods became lazy. While you kept your cabin in the fjords, your connection to Poseidon and your homeland, you were forced to spend much of your time in Boston to keep yourself alive, to keep your facade with the other gods.

The clashes between the worlds of the Greek and the Norse became more frequent, though all the gods kept their promise of staying away from each other. It was not until the battle of the Draugur that this promise was broken. That after millennia you were face to face with your love once more…

A/N: I chose things from the sea as his messaging system because obvi he’s the god of the sea. But I chose butterflies for Y/n because I see her character in so many ways that I feel the butterfly embodies. I was thinking of the butterfly effect (a butterfly flaps its wings in one place and a storm starts in another) and that’s literally Y/n because she’s this small thing who’s seen as gentle and underestimated but she causes all these big things simply by existing. And then butterflies are seen as small and gentle and colourful but there’s literally a species of butterfly that drinks the tears of turtles and that felt so accurate to her character because she’s seen as small and pretty and colourful (and she is) but she can also be vicious and violent for survival. Anyway, thank you for coming to my ted talk.

Taglist: @thicficbich1, @pasta-warlord

#percy jackson show #percy jackson x reader #percy pjo #percy series #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #perseus jackson #poseidon pjo #poseidon #poseiden #poseidad #poseidón #pjo poseidon #poseidon fic update #poseidon x reader #posiedon #posideon #poseidon deity

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windvexer · 1 year

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hello! another little question on tarot if i may.

when i read more casually my readings were usually very relaxed and with simple meanings, accurate with by the book meanings but not super specific. as i become more ambitious i became super motivated to learn all the nuance i possibly can, its an interesting journey but.. doesnt seem to work in practice. i always knew it but everyone and their mama will always have interpretations that can seem stupid to others, even among experts in the field. question is how do you deal with that?

Im seeing that as my study deepens and Im working with Apollo to achieve that, some interpratations that are organically coming up and rooting themselves in my practice can seem just straight up weird to some people. how do i deal with that? have you experienced that? everyone seems so Agressive about their interpretations being the proper ones.

Listen to me.

You must engage in the most batshit methods of reading tarot. You must design your own systems of reading with all the glee of a young boy throwing rocks off an overpass. You must read tarot so bizarrely that it makes you feel like a mad scientist.

You must decide for yourself every rule and ritual which makes tarot "work," and you must develop methods of reading that hinge upon destroying those ideations. You must make vehicles of meaning, drive them as fast as you can down the freeway of tarot, and crash them at full speed into brick walls. You must laugh at the fiery destruction you have wrought, and you must sprint all the way back to the launch pad to begin building something else.

They will be Aggressive with you over what the cards really mean? They are fools. They do not know the depths to which you can tear apart their petty systems. They think the extent of tarot perversion is choosing the wrong meaning for the card. They think this because they have mistaken the surface of the water for the depths of the ocean.

They think the height of tarot discourse is whether or not it's okay to not memorize card meanings. They think tarot is a pretty sea turtle languidly drifting in a sunny reef.

Go down in that ocean and dredge up the most horrifying bulbous-eyed god-defying pale abomination you can find. Map out new depths of horror. Make friends with the purely absurd. Perform atrocities with tarot and hang each one around your neck like the badge of honor it is. Crack tarot's spine and drink from the fluid that drips out. Become a monster, do you hear me?

And when they smirk at you because they think they know better words to tape to the Knight of Swords, you will open your mouth and say the most dumbfounding shit that person has ever heard and blast them with a ray of psychic damage so severe it will make them question if they should keep reading tarot lest they be associated with someone like you.

"Well akshually, knight cards do the queen's bidding, so in this case-"

"Haha, yeah! Once for a couple of months I worked exclusively with a system where the four knights were the rulers of the deck. I divided up the major arcana cards between the knights as their servants, but since there's one card left over, I incorporated a system where one of the four knights was the 'ruler' of that reading. Then I laid out all four knights as signifiers and dealt the entire deck between all four knights and the reading was based on which omens were collected under the ruling knight."

"Haha, yeah! Once for like two weeks I assigned all the court cards to be my favorite anime blorbos and I read from a restricted deck that only used court cards and major arcana. I'd draw one major arcana card to be the battlefield setting and then two court cards. To resolve the reading I wrote fanfiction about the characters fighting and whichever character won would decide the outcome of the question. It's actually how I got started using creative writing as a form of exploratory divination!"

"Haha, yeah! One weekend I decided to find out what would happen if I read in such a way that sword cards could 'kill' other cards in the deck, and the Knight of Pentacles ended up getting 'killed' like three times that weekend and ever since then it's always coming up in readings about sadness and depression, isn't that weird?"

"Haha, yeah! Well today I'm reading with a system where I meditate until a recurring character from my dreams appears and asks me to possess one of my tarot cards, and today No-Eyes the Whale asked to possess that knight card, so that's why I'm not using your meanings."

Do they challenge you? They cannot challenge you. Are you not shuffling right? Are you getting scolded for not fOcUsInG enough when you shuffle? Look them in the eye and say something so deranged they will think about it for the rest of their life.

"Haha, yeah! I remember the last time I used those meanings, it was so fun. I got drunk, shuffled my tarot deck, and laid out piles of three cards around my house, sight-unseen. For the next three days I kept running into these little three-card readings hidden everywhere, but funnily enough, they all ended up being past-present-future readings of the ten second timespan when I picked up the cards. I even predicted getting the phone call about losing my health insurance!"

"Haha, yeah! I actually decided to re-assign every single card to my custom twelve element system, so I don't see the same divisions between the suits as you do. Look, this card is the element pearl! Pearls are an element, I decided a couple of months ago. It's a really long story but it helps explain what happened to No-Eyes."

"Haha, yeah! I don't use intuition to choose cards out of a lineup. I turn them all face up and select all the cards that I think are the most likely ones to show up in the reading. Then, I go through the entire deck and match every single card with it's polar opposite. Then, I put the deck face-down and flip cards over. If I flip over a sword or a wand card, I exchange my chosen card with its opposite, but if it's a major arcana card I keep both my chosen card and its opposite."

"Haha, yeah! I don't shuffle. Like, at all. Once I'm done with the reading I put cards on the bottom of the deck and then just draw new cards from the top of the deck."

"Haha, yeah! I mixed all my decks together and sorted the superdeck into piles of every elementally aligned card. In order to resolve questions I have a yu-gi-oh duel with myself."

Eat the tarot. Consume it whole and raw. Tear away at it until you fear there is nothing left, and then go back for more. Each time you eat its heart, it will become refined before your eyes. Assist the tarot in shedding its decrepit cloak of meaning. Rescue it by killing it. Rend tarot in your hands like a child ripping at crafting clay.

And if you destroy it well enough, and for long enough, it will be reborn in your hands as it was meant to be: glimmering and pure, whole and new, ineffable and eternal, your dearest friend,

and so shiny and smooth that no meanings at all can stick to it.

That is what you do with people who get Aggressive about what the cards really mean.

#answered #tarot #tbl

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itsclydebitches · 11 months

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Any tips for new grad students? I'm about to start in the fall and I'm curious how it'll be different/hopefully better than undergrad!

Congratulations, anon!!!

Let's see... some alphabetical tips based on my own experience:

Ask for help. You'll likely have a million questions and, unfortunately, the designated people who can answer them are often crazy busy and may take a while to get back to you, or forget entirely. So don't be afraid to ask for help from whoever might even feasibly know the answer -- including tumblr blogs! You're off to a great start lol

Be on the lookout for advisors early. Whether you're just in need of a singular advisory for a thesis, or if you'll be putting a whole committee together, approach every new instructor with the question, "Would I want them to mentor me through my research?" in the back of your mind. Pay attention to not just their specialties and teaching methods, but who they are as a person. Do you like them? Are you comfortable with them? Do they treat you respectfully? Do they seem to have everything well in hand? I loved my advisor dearly as a person, but he was often waaaaaay behind on his work. Looking back, I would have at least considered choosing someone with better organization/time management skills.

Get good at writing emails. Can you write a succinct, professional sounding email? Great! Get comfortable doing that throughout the whole day. Feeling a little iffy? Practice over the summer. There are a lot of templates online that can help, but you'll want to ensure you're not going into grad school still writing "k thx" from your iPhone at 3:00am. (For the record, your professors may do this, the students should not lol).

Have designated, scheduled downtime. Literally if you don't plan to take a break... you won't be taking a break. Not until your body decides to take one for you, anyway. Friday nights were always my couch potato time. Absolutely no work allowed and no strenuous activity unless it was something I was legitimately excited about (so no getting pressured into outings I didn't actually want to attend). Friday nights were sacred, a time for takeout and only whatever else I felt like doing, usually TV, video games, and vegging out with my cat.

Imposter Syndrome is a BITCH. Luckily, pretty much everyone's got it to a greater or lesser extent, we all just need to acknowledge it more. You know those boards some schools have celebrating places where students have gotten in and other achievements? Yeah, we put one up for failures in our department. Literally a giant, glittery, "CONGRATS YOU DIDN'T GET IT!" board where we hung proposal rejections, grant rejections, school rejections, scholarship rejections, job rejections, and on one memorable occasion a date rejection. I highly recommend it. Nothing lessens the sting quite as much as seeing that you're a part of a sea of similar disappointments and remembering that you're all in the same, often luck-based boat.

Pick a non-academic hobby. Your mental health will thank you, trust me. Like the designated downtime, you need to be doing something that's not reading/writing/researching 24/7. Pick a hobby that in no way relates to academics or your chosen field, preferably something hands-on and creative. Grad school is when I picked up crocheting alongside knitting.

Prepare to hold down two jobs. This really only applies if you're going to be teaching while you get your degree (or if you have an outside job for the paycheck), but I was pretty blindsided by what it took to be a full-time student and a half-time instructor. I don't really have good advice beyond "Figure out your time management skills now" and "Don't pour all your energy into one or the other because the one you've neglected WILL come back to bite you in the ass," but even just being aware of how difficult it is going to be would have staved off the initial shock.

Read strategically. Perhaps this is different for someone not in the Humanities, but you will be reading a LOT in grad school. Like, an absolutely stupid amount. There simply will not be time to cover everything from title to footnotes (I know, it hurts), so get comfortable with reading abstracts, chapter summaries, skimming, and otherwise summarizing lengthy works to figure out what you should prioritize. Unless a whole article is assigned for class, figure out what you need from any given text -- or what you think you may need -- and hone in on that. You can always return to read more if you have the time.

SAVE EVERYTHING. Do not delete emails. Get copies of everything even remotely official. Print everything out. Buy yourself a couple of cheap file boxes, stick them under your bed, and keep it all just in case. What kind of things have I unexpectedly needed to dredge up weeks, months, or even years later? The printed paper with hand-written comments to justify a grade I gave. An ancient email from a committee member proving that they did in fact sign off on a certain chapter choice. A copy of the publication forms I signed for a book collection after those got lost on their end (somehow). Seriously, save everything. You'll never know when you may need proof of some communication you've had.

Take naps. That's it. That's the advice. Someone gives you shit for being "lazy" or tries to make you feel bad for "wasting" a sunny afternoon? Make them step on a Lego and then both of you take your nap outside. Naps are beautiful and sacred and life-saving. Just set a good alarm for whenever your next class/meeting is.

Work at making friends. Unlike high school or even college where you'll be spending the day with a core group of people, in graduate school (unless your school is really small) the students are a lot more spread out and there aren't as many built-in opportunities to socialize. So plan to put in more effort at connecting with others because you will want that camaraderie, both for practical help and your sanity. I didn't realize how much more I needed to do to get to know my peers until I was nearly finished my Master's. Luckily, my PhD threw me into an office with seven other grads, so I didn't have a choice about getting to know them lol

You're responsible for your own learning. You've gotten a taste of this in college, but grad school cranks it up to 11. You're an adult (not an "adult" adult like a college student) and you've committed to putting forth 2-7 additional years towards your education. The expectation is that you want to be here and will showcase the necessary effort without outside influence (unless you require accommodations, of course). Be prepared for your instructors to treat you like a peer, both when it comes to the fun stuff - intense debates about your field! - and the responsibilities they expect you to follow through on. In some ways grad school is nothing like college because you are now focused on one subject, you are working collaboratively with people who were once solely authority figures, and 95% of the work will occur outside the classroom via self-teaching. You're a professional now. Still being mentored, but well on your way to that equal standing. The sooner you realize that you are responsible for your own education and future career -- not your teachers, your parents, your BFF, your roommate, etc. -- the better.

Most importantly:

#school #teaching #grad school

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writing-about-current-obsessions · 1 year

Text

If you had to pick

Pairings: Carlos Sainz x reader

Words: 5045

Summary: Carlos made a bad first impression, but do first impressions really matter that much?

First time writing for Carlos, so let me know how I did! Also, I have an idea for one more part so let me know if you would like to read it.

>Click here to check out my masterlist<

„If you had to pick one guy from the grid to have sex with, who would it be?“ Pierre asked with a cheeky smile, taking a sip of his wine.

I rolled my eyes at him, taking a sip from my glass as well. It was a typical question coming from him during our so-called ‘truth and wine’ evenings – rare occasions when we could hang out with each other and catch up. We always start off the evening by ordering takeout and drinking wine, while talking about everything that we missed in each other’s lives since we last saw each other. The more we get tipsy, the steamier and crazier the questions usually get. I always have a few good laughs with Pierre by the end of nights like this.

Although, something that annoyed me to no end was when he asked the kind of questions he had just asked me. He was incredibly nosy and we talked about our love lives quite often with each other, but I never admitted to him that I liked any of the drivers.

“Apart from me, of course.”, Pierre added, like it was obvious.

I snorted. “What makes you think I would choose you?”

He looked at me as if I was the one talking nonsense. “I’m the hottest guy on the grid!”

“The most modest one, too.”, I laughed at him.

I put the glass of wine on the coffee table and settled on the sofa I was sitting on. I was getting a bit sleepy. Judging by the tint of Pierre’s cheeks and his half-closed eyelids, he was getting tipsy and tired as well. He was currently sprawled on the couch, with a half-full glass of wine in his hand, motioning with it when he talked, sloshing the liquid around and almost spilling it a couple of times.

“I don’t get why you never want to say it. There has to be someone on the grid that you like.”, Pierre frowned.

Obviously, his curiosity was getting the best of him, but also, he always became a bit more difficult when he drank. He was like a dog with a bone; he couldn’t let it go.

And the truth was, I think he had an inkling who I like. Or to be more specific, who I liked.

There was a period when I would come visit Pierre at the races quite often, which meant that I spent a lot of weekends in the paddock. Since I was a little girl and Pierre started karting I was a fan of the sport, and I followed Formula 1 for ages now. So naturally, I knew every driver on the grid and had the opportunity of meeting quite a few when I visited Pierre, and Charles as well, since I knew both of them since we were kids.

The thing was, I developed quite a strong crush during that time on a certain Spanish driver. Carlos Sainz was Charles’ teammate at Ferrari and they were great friends and colleagues. I had had only limited interaction with him and I thanked the heavens for that. I would always turn into a blushing, blubbering mess when he was around and I think Pierre noticed that. We never talked about it, but he threw a few teasing comments my way. Until one day, my crush on Carlos was absolutely shattered after a night out.

Pierre asked me to join him at a party with a few other drivers, telling me how Carlos will be there and of course, teasing me about him. And I had to admit, knowing that the Spaniard will be there was one of the reasons I decided to go. While the evening started off fun, I noticed how Carlos was always flanked by women, flirting with as many of them as humanly possible and getting increasingly drunk as time passed. It really ruined the image I had of him in my head, which only worsened at the end of the night.

I was going to the bathroom, pushing through the sea of people to get there. Turning the corner to get to the hallway, I accidentally crashed into someone, almost falling flat on my ass. Not only that, but not even a second after the unexpected impact, I felt something cold splash against my dress and then drip down it.

“Sorry, I-“, I started yelling my apology so I could be heard over the loud music, but the words got stuck in my throat as I looked down at my white dress, which was now stained and ruined.

Not only did I manage to crash into someone, but I also managed to get a drink spilled on me. Great.

“I’m the one who’s sorry, hermosa.”, Carlos slurred his words, his eyes concentrated on my cleavage and the wet stain which made the fabric cling to my body.

I was speechless when I realized it was him; feeling my cheeks burn red from embarrassment and from the attention he was giving me. I was thankful we were in a dark-lit club so he couldn’t notice how much I was blushing.

He finally tore his gaze away from my dress and looked into my eyes, smirking cheekily. His arm casually slipped around my waist and he rested his palm on my lower back. I gulped as he leaned forward, closer to my face. I was frozen in place, not knowing what to do or where was this coming from. Carlos and I were mere acquaintances and now he was putting his arm around me and getting so close to me that I could feel his breath on my neck? What the actual fuck was happening?

Carlos was now almost completely against my body, with his hands firm on my back and slowly travelling lower. His lips were almost touching my earlobe.

“How about I help you out of that ruined dress?” he asked into my ear, making me shiver.

No matter how attractive I thought he was, at that moment, he completely disgusted me. He was drunk, flirting with any woman who was in front of him, and he thought that I would just say yes to that and jump into bed with him? Not a chance.

Now angry, I lightly pushed him with both hands away from me and muttered a “no, thanks.”

He seemed to process my words a bit as he stumbled back and then he seemed surprised. I never expected Carlos to be such an asshole, but here he was, proving me wrong. Serves me right for conjuring up a whole image of him in my head, without actually knowing him.

From what Charles told me, he was funny, intelligent, and nice, but also very sweet, caring and private. He didn’t seem like the kind of guy who did anything casually, but rather searched for commitment and something meaningful. Clearly, both Charles and I were wrong.

I walked away from him that night, absolutely fuming. When Pierre saw me come back from the bathroom, he immediately knew that something was wrong, so he took us both home. I didn’t tell him what had happened, I only said that some asshole pissed me off and that I wanted to leave. I couldn’t believe how stupid I was; how I let myself develop this crush and let myself be so naïve. After a while, Pierre also noticed how I didn’t react the same way anymore when someone mentioned Carlos, how I didn’t smile when I noticed him and how I actually dismissed talking about him or to him completely. Since I didn’t want to explain why and acted like nothing was out of the ordinary, Pierre simply stopped with the teasing comments and I avoided Carlos every time I was at the paddock.

Pierre cleared his throat and then snapped his fingers at me, trying to catch my attention.

“What?” I sighed, annoyed.

“Is it Charles?” Pierre asked, grimacing. “Because I don’t think it is.”

“He’s cute, but no.”, I answered simply and Pierre blew a raspberry at my answer.

“Thank God. That would be a bit weird.”

I kept silent, leaving him to think and talk to himself.

“You do realize that I will never let this go until you give me an answer.”, Pierre spoke seriously, sitting up so he could grab the almost empty bottle of wine and pour himself some more red.

He raised the bottle up at me and I offered my glass so he could pour me some more as well. We both settled back into the comfy cushions of Pierre’s sofa and couch.

“I’m waiting.”, Pierre said after a few moments of silence as we sipped the wine.

“Danny is pretty hot.”, I contemplated at loud. “Did you see his outfit for Austin? I sure wouldn’t mind riding that cowboy.”

“Ugh. Gross.”, Pierre frowned.

I laughed at the face he made, loving how easy it was to mess with him. But also, he knew me better than I knew myself sometimes and he realized that I was only joking.

“You asked.”, I shrugged.

“And as always, you lied.”, he looked at me pointedly.

“Daniel is hot.”, I looked away from Pierre’s piercing gaze. “I wasn’t lying about that.”

“Maybe it’s Carlos?” Pierre asked and I turned to face him as he wiggled his eyebrows at me suggestively.

I immediately sobered up. “No.”

“Oh, come on.”, Pierre rolled his eyes at me, like I was the one who was being difficult out of the two of us. “I know you had a crush on him. Maybe you still do.”

“I would never date a driver.”, I said simply, taking a few big gulps of the wine.

“Well, I didn’t say date.”

“I also would never have sex with one.”

“Why not?” Pierre furrowed his eyebrows at me. “Speaking for myself, I would definitely show you a great time.”

“Pierre.”, I looked at him sternly.

He chortled, raising his hands up in defence. “Sorry. Force of habit. I always flirt with pretty girls.”

“And that’s my point exactly.”, I pointed an accusing finger at him. “Most of you are complete manwhores.”

“Hey!” Pierre was both surprised and offended at my comment. “That’s not-“

“You’re the prime example and you know it.”, I interrupted him, looking at him sharply. "You're my friend and I love you, but you're a manwhore, Pierre."

Before he could interject, I explained further. “And I don’t care that you are. I’m simply saying, I don’t want that.”

Pierre thought about it for a second. “Okay. Fair enough.”

And that was the end of that.

I didn’t say that yes, I did have a crush on Carlos for the longest time and yes, I kinda still do. He is definitely the one I would pick out of all the guys on the grid. I hated myself for it, but I also couldn’t help it that much. There was a lingering feeling of ‘what if’ and what could be if that night at the club didn’t happen. What was even crazier was that I was actually defending him sometimes and trying to make up excuses for his douchebag behaviour. I mean, how was it possible that both Charles and Pierre, two of my closest childhood friends, absolutely loved Carlos and never had a bad thing to say about him, but I judged him without actually knowing him? My mind wasn’t made up, but rather hopped from one side to another – either hating on Carlos Sainz or making him up to be a perfect guy who only had one mishap that night.

Also, it was becoming increasingly difficult to avoid him since I again started coming to the races more often. There were a few months of me being extremely busy at work and other things that prevented me from going, but I promised Pierre to come to a few last races of the season. Since Pierre, Charles and I hung out together a lot, and since Charles and Carlos seemed joined at the hip recently, it was becoming more of a challenge to pretend like Carlos’ entire existence wasn’t a pain in my ass.

Particularly demanding will be to not bump into him during Pierre’s house party. No matter how big Pierre’s house was, it wasn’t big enough so I could hide at the party with 30-something people there. I thought about bailing, but that was silly; I wasn’t going to miss Pierre’s party just because Carlos made me slightly uncomfortable. I was a big girl and I could handle it.

At least that’s what I initially thought, until I found myself getting ready in Pierre’s room an hour before the guests are supposed to arrive, pacing nervously back and forth as I contemplated about having to endure Carlos in my vicinity for the whole night. It was silly, right? Why was I even thinking about it? I should’ve forgotten about Carlos and this stupid crush a long time ago, but no matter what I did, he always somehow ended up invading my thoughts.

During my little freak-out, Pierre peered into his bedroom to see if I was ready, invading my private moment. I noticed him when he leaned against the doorframe, watching me in both confusion and worry.

“You good?” Pierre asked hesitantly.

I plastered on a smile. “Yeah. Almost done. I’ll be downstairs in a few minutes.”

Pierre narrowed his eyes at me in suspicion. “You sure?”

I nodded, smiling still, but it wasn’t convincing enough to fool Pierre.

“Is it Carlos?” Pierre asked carefully.

I was taken aback by the blunt question which came out of nowhere. He never asked directly what Carlos did to deserve my cold shoulder, he was always very wary about it. Pierre knew we weren’t particularly close, but he also realized that something must’ve happened which made me completely forget about my crush on Carlos. Well, Pierre thought that I didn’t have a crush on Carlos anymore, but that wasn’t exactly the truth.

“I’m not stupid, you know.”, Pierre huffed. “I know your whole thing from the other night when you talked about how you don’t date race car drivers has something to do with him.”

I sat on the bed, defeated. Guess we were talking about it.

Sometimes I kinda wished Pierre didn’t have the ability to notice when something was wrong. Scratch that, I actually loved the fact that he was so sweet and caring, but sometimes it was also annoying. He always assumed this ‘big brother’ type of role and acted very protective of me. Which, again, was sweet at times, but again, annoying.

I looked away from him to stare at a wall. “That rule has nothing to do with him.”

“You’re lying.”

“Am not.”

“You are.”, Pierre chuckled, sitting beside me on the bed. “It’s funny you have that rule because of him, since he is the furthest away from a manwhore, as you so kindly put it the other day.”

I snorted. “Sure.”

Pierre looked at me weirdly. “What exactly did he do at that party?”

He was referring to that party in Monaco, to one I left with a stained dress and a bruised ego, realizing how Carlos was certainly out of my league and how I simply couldn’t and wouldn’t be in that crowd of women surrounding him, waiting who will he pick to take back with him to his hotel room.

"Because if I need to punch him in the face, I think I could take him.", Pierre added in seriousness.

I laughed. "Would love to see that."

Pierre narrowed his eyes at me, giving me a cold look.

Sighing heavily, I let myself fall back on the smooth, plush bed. “I’m gonna sound so bitter if I say it out loud.”

Pierre also fell back on the bed, leaning on his side and resting his head on his hand so he could look at me while we talked.

He waited expectantly for me to continue. “You know I’m not leaving now until you explain.”

So, I did. I told him about Carlos flirting with everyone that night, which wasn’t a problem in itself if he hadn’t approached me the way he did. It was such a stupid thing really, but it showed that he wasn’t the type of guy I would want to go on a date with.

Unfortunately, that didn’t mean that my crush simply disappeared, which was why I was feeling so crappy about seeing him tonight. Pierre understood, trying to comfort me by promising the two of us will party hard tonight and that Carlos wouldn’t even cross my mind. Pierre’s energy truly was infectious, making me giggle with how enthusiastic he was and also how adamant he was to show me a great time tonight. Something that bugged me though was the fact that Pierre defended Carlos a bit, saying how he wasn’t acting like himself that night and that he was just drunk. I didn’t like that excuse very much. I know that Carlos and Pierre were friends, but I just couldn’t comprehend how Pierre defended him so resolutely.

Once again I found myself in the middle of the same dilemma – was I overreacting about Carlos’ behaviour and making him out to be someone that he’s not or was my bad impression right and he couldn’t be trusted?

I had no time to ponder it, because Pierre was already dragging me downstairs to grab a drink and start the party.

For quite some time, Pierre was successful in taking my mind off Carlos and having an amazing time. After all, a lot of my friends were there and I was surrounded by people who I cared about and who I always had fun with. I didn’t even notice when Carlos arrived and I managed to successfully avoid him for most of the evening, dodging any group of people that he was talking to or drinking with. Nonetheless, I couldn’t help but glance at him a time or two, or maybe a few, almost making eye contact with him once because he was already staring at me. I would definitely never admit it out loud, but I also took notice of people he was hanging out with, realizing in surprise that it was mostly Lando and not a pretty brunette in a skimpy dress. A small part of me wondered if this was what Pierre meant; if this was the real Carlos, and the drunk, playboy Carlos was something out of character for him.

Each time I started to think about that more, I took a shot or tried to find one of my friends to distract me. It actually worked, until I found myself leaning on the kitchen island and talking with Charles, noticing from the corner of my eye that Carlos was making his way straight to us. I avoided looking at him, thinking that it was merely a coincidence and that Carlos would just walk past us. That is, until he stood next to Charles and me and I had no other choice but to look at him. The smile on my face immediately faltered and I looked at him in confusion.

I remembered that he probably wanted to talk with his teammate, so I was quick to take my drink, ready to leave. “I’ll see you later, Charles.”

I only managed to turn around before I heard Carlos call out my name over the music, making me freeze in my spot.

“Can I talk to you?” Carlos’ voice was pleading and gentle. “In private, please?”

Turning back around, I was met with Carlos’ expectant facial expression and Charles’ amused one. He was looking at Sainz and me as if he was in the middle of a soap opera. Charles’ eyebrows shot upwards, silently waiting and urging me to say yes.

“What about?” I opted to complicate things, not wanting the anxiety of being in a room with Carlos, alone.

I would probably make a fool out of myself because of my stupid crush and that was the last thing I needed right now.

Charles rolled his eyes at me. “She will. She’s just being difficult for no reason.”

I lightly slapped Charles’ arm, who was already retreating somewhere away from us both, sticking his tongue at me jokingly.

“Such a child.”, I muttered under my breath, making Carlos snigger.

Carlos looked like he wanted to say something, but I was faster. “Just follow me.”

He did as he was told, following me upstairs to Pierre’s room. I was sure that Pierre wouldn’t mind us talking in there, and besides, every other corner of his house was occupied by someone. Along with the music playing, it was impossible to have a normal conversation anywhere but here. Or maybe in the bathroom.

I took a few steps away from Carlos to the middle of the bedroom as he closed the door behind him. I tried not to think about how handsome he looked tonight, wearing a simple shirt with his sleeves rolled up and a pair of black pants. Despite his fondness for casual and simple outfits, he always looked effortlessly attractive. His lush hair always looked perfect, but I could notice that he styled it a bit more than usual. Fuck, it wasn't fair that he looked so good.

“I’m listening.”, I said simply.

“I want to apologize.”

“For what?”

“I know why you’re mad at me and I just want to say that I’m sorry about the way I acted.”, Carlos sounded serious and sincere, looking straight into my eyes.

I looked away, not able to handle his intense stare. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’m not mad at you.”

“Oh, come on.”, Carlos huffed. “You’ve been avoiding me for months now.”

I kept silent, not really knowing what to say to that, because he was right about that part.

“Pierre told me why you hate me.”, Carlos admitted, going straight to the point. “About the party in Monaco.”

It took me a moment to mull over what he said.

“He did what?” I asked through my teeth, already fuming. “That little-“

“In his defence, I convinced him to do it. Maybe even blackmailed him a little.”, he shrugged it off like it was a normal thing between friends, which apparently it was.

Sighing in annoyance, I folded my arms beneath my chest in a defensive manner. “For the record, I don’t hate you.”

“I wouldn’t blame you if you did.”, Carlos smiled apologetically. “Apparently I was acting like an asshole.”

“Apparently?”

He took a big breath, now his turn to awkwardly look away, as if bracing himself to do something he really didn’t want to do.

“I was so drunk that night.”, he scratched the back of his neck nervously. “I don’t really remember much of it.”

I tsked. “Ah. Okay.”

Somehow, that made the whole thing even worse in my mind. Here I was, worrying about that one situation that happened, while he didn’t even remember it properly. Or at all.

“Can you tell me exactly what I did?”

I thought about it for a moment. “You offered to help me take off my dress after you accidentally spilled your drink on it.”

He closed his eyes briefly with a sigh, as if disappointed with his own actions. “I promise you I didn’t mean it like that.”

“So, you don’t want to sleep with me?” I asked in a serious tone, trying to fake being stern and also trying to prevent laughing at the face he made.

“No- I-“, he stumbled over his words. “I do! I want to sleep with you! Uh, I mean- Not right now, but like-“

Not being able to hold it in anymore, a few giggles escaped my mouth as I stared at his panicked facial expression, eyes bulging and cheeks red.

“I was just teasing you.”, I chuckled, biting my lip to keep from laughing again.

Carlos shook his head at me as if he wants to scold me, but with a light smile stretching across his face. “Dios mio. Let’s just forget the last few seconds happened, okay?”

“Not a chance.”, I smirked at him. “I have to torture you a little.”

“Oh, yeah?” Carlos quirked an eyebrow, looking at me in curiosity. “How else will you torture me?”

It was my turn to blush now and feel like he threw me off balance, my mind immediately going to the most inappropriate thoughts. I knew that Carlos was just returning the favour and messing with me, but his words paired with that intense stare were making my brain short-circuit. He stepped closer to me, our bodies close to touching, as he carefully put his arm around my waist. Carlos gave me enough time to push him away, but I didn’t, letting him get even closer. Carefully watching my reaction, he continued as I watched intently what is he going to do next.

Instead of pressing his lips to mine like I expected him to, he instead moved his head to the side of my head, so he could whisper in my ear. “Two can play this game, cariño.”

I couldn’t help it; my hand moved out of my own volition to rest on his firm chest as I looked up at him.

“I don’t want to play games.”, my expression changed as I stepped away from him, pulling my hand away.

Just like that, my walls were up again, the image of him surrounded by a group of models at the club who he was doing body shots with flashing bright in my mind. He got nervous again, I could see it.

“I don’t want to play games either.”, he said sincerely, watching me fold my arms beneath my chest again, just like I did before.

I watched him closely, trying to figure out what he wanted then. Why he wanted to talk and why he was looking at me so unsure now.

“I was drunk that night. It was stupid.”, he sighed, moving to sit on Pierre’s bed in a resigned manner.

A few hours ago I sat on that bed in the same way he did; all tense and anxious.

He couldn’t bear to look at me as he continued. “I was going through a bad breakup. I just wanted to get my mind off things for one night. And I fucked up.”

I instantly softened at his words. Oh.

It wasn’t exactly something I had expected him to say, but I understood. We all did stupid shit after a breakup, especially if it was a painful one. All this time I thought that this was all his personality, that he was partying and bringing women back to his hotel room every other night. If this was a one-time, stupid thing… I completely misjudged him.

Silently approaching him, I sat down beside him on the bed. “It’s not that big of a deal. I was just… A bit shocked, that’s all. Didn’t expect that from you.”

Carlos turned his head to face me. He was met with a soft smile.

“I always liked you…”, he confessed silently. “But, I never had the guts to do anything about it. I guess when I accidentally bumped into you… It was my way of drunkenly flirting with you.”

I chuckled. “Smooth operator, huh?”

He laughed, shaking his head. “It’s embarrassing. I’m sorry.”

“I think you apologized enough.”, I nudged his side softly. “It’s actually kind of cute when you put it like that.”

He got a bit sheepish again, staring at me for a moment. “So, you forgive me?”

“I do.”, smiling wide, I nodded. “It’s hard not to. Especially when you say you liked me.”

“Like.”, he corrected. “I still like you.”

My smile faltered. Not because I wasn’t absolutely ecstatic to hear that, but because I hadn’t expected those words to come out of his mouth.

“You do?”

He nodded, brushing a strand of my hair behind my ear, using the opportunity then to caress the skin of my cheeks with his thumb.

“Because… I like you too.”, I admitted quietly, gazing into his eyes, trying to figure out if this was really happening or not.

My heart was thumping wildly in my chest and suddenly I was a bit light-headed. Carlos beamed, smiling wide. He cupped my cheek with his hand, inching closer. Only this time, he wasn’t tricking me, he was leaning in for a kiss.

Right before his lips touched mine, he stopped. “Can I kiss you?”

Almost instinctively, I grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him gently to close the gap between us. The kiss was tender but passionate, my hands moving around to the back of his neck, feeling the soft strands of his hair. Carlos was gentle, but eager. His lips were soft and he tasted sweet, but most importantly, he was an amazing kisser. Anything that I ever imagined in my head was quickly forgotten, because the reality was so much better. We pulled away from each other only slightly, trying to catch our breaths. Carlos still had his eyes closed as he pressed his forehead against mine, and I was mesmerized by the sight. When he opened his brown eyes to gaze at me, I had to suppress a gasp at how handsome he looked at that moment. We were both grinning, satisfied with the kiss and the confessions which were apparently a long time coming.

Completely overwhelmed by what just happened, I didn’t know what to say. Carlos was quiet as well, breaking the silence only with another peck on my lips.

It was so easy. Incredibly easy to fall for his charms and let myself trust him, but there was still this tiny voice in the back of my head wondering if it was the smart thing to do.

But, for now at least, I was too distracted and too enchanted by Carlos to worry about it. When he kissed me again, slowly and hungrily, my mind went blank and I completely let myself go to the feeling. The only sensations I was aware of were his lips on mine and his arms around my body, pulling me closer to him.

#carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz oneshot #carlos sainz one shot #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz fanfiction #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x y/n #carlos sainz x ofc #carlos sainz fluff #f1 fanfic #f1 one shot #f1 imagine #f1 fluff

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mayullla · 2 years

Text

Title: Flowers and Shells

[ - Cottage (Fem!reader) + Lily (Platonic yandere) + Ayato (Genshin Impact) + Chocolate brownie (Mermaid/siren au) - ] - Anon's Ask

Summary: Fairytale au: The little mermaid; Ayato lost his sister who chose to die instead of hurt her true love, in anger Ayato wanted revenge and found you.

Additional warnings/tags: child!reader, manipulation, kidnapping, dark/obsessive themes, unhealthy coping mechanisms, tell me if there is anything I missed

[ - Fairytale Picnic Event - closed ]

“Gasp mister you are so pretty!!” That was the first thing you said to that man in the water with a fishtail that looked as pretty as the jewel stones you saw the adults wear. He was also very pretty, with hair that reminded you of a clear blue sky and his eyes reminding you of a particular blue jewel.

Young, your guardian had told you many stories. Some stories of the fairies and magic but you always found the books that talked about mermaids the most fascinating. You would always beg your nanny to read you the little mermaid before you sleep as if you would never be able to sleep without even hearing the first page of the story.

Your nanny told you that mermaids were real and even if the people around you didn't believe it. You believed it!

“Hello, child.” The man smiled, chuckling as you watched his tail move under the water. “Careful now you could get fall if you lean too far into the water.”

You didn't listen, you continued to look at him in awe and fascination.

“Pretttyyy~”

"What is your name merman!" You asked at one point playing with the shells and pearls that Ayato had in his pouch. He hummed as he played with your hair adding the shells one by one so prettily placed.

"My name is Ayato, young one."

"A pretty name!" You said laughing cheerfully at him. He became your friend, when you were lonely you would go to the cave where you first meet him and wait for a little. Ayato would always come after a few minutes holding something from the ocean your small hands could not reach.

He was your friend, but he wanted your neck.

Ayato wanted revenge, he wanted revenge toward the humans that took his little sister away from the waters.

Ayaka was a child of pure heart, with such a loving and caring personality she was a treasure to the ocean kingdom loved by everyone. Yet even so Ayaka craved the world outside her reach, the place of land.

She fell in love with a boy from the outside world, a boy that she saved from a shipwreck from the storms and waves. She sacrificed her own voice in exchange for legs to be with the man she loved above ground yet that man choose to marry another instead, breaking her heart.

After Ayato found out he tried to help his sister, telling her to crave out the boy’s heart with a magical knife and splatter the blood on her legs to become a mermaid again.

To return to the sea.

However Ayaka’s kindness and loves knows no bounds when she instead sacrificed her own life so that the boy she loved would be happy with his lover, she turned into nothing but bubbles as the sun begins to rise. Leaving instead sorrow and blind anger in her brother's heart.

He wanted revenge, he wanted to give the same pain and heartache to the man who took his sister away from him. Even after years he waited, he had his people, the more stealthy of his subordinates head to the surface and gather intel and from there he found you.

You were a daughter of that man too young and naive to understand what was going on, but cheerful and curious when you meet him.

There were many times, many times that you were so close to your own death. You were just a young girl after all, younger than Ayaka when she died Ayato could easily grab you and drown you in the water. He chooses not to tho, for his aim was your dear father.

He wanted him to suffer even more.

Yet here he was holding you in his arms as you brought a basket full of flowers to make a flower crown, they were flowers that Ayato have never seen fresh only in books did he see them or the old flowers that somehow managed to get into the water one way or another by the time it was in his hands they were brown and rotting.

“This is for Ayato! I made it just for you!” you said cheerfully, holding out to him a flower crown pretty in your hands. "Thank you." He smiled as he glanced at the flower.

He was sure that if he would take this flower with him, it would not survive the waters and instead wither. It was weak, a delicate beauty yet so weak. It was funny how it reminded him of you.

Yet he let you place the flower crown on his head. His hair crowed with beautiful flowers while your hair had a crown made of coral and shells.

"We match now!"

Ayato chuckled at your cuteness patting your head in affection. He could not help himself as time passed you started to carve a part of his heart. He had grown so protective of you as he once was towards Ayaka. Your innocence reminded him so much of her... he could not help it.

He wanted her back so much that sometimes he could not live. He hated when you have to leave when his mind made up scenarios where could not reach you anymore, where you were taken away from him. He was scared he would lose someone again when he is already all alone in this world.

He wondered if the ocean queen was willing to help him out a bit. So faithful to her following most of her orders. He protected the waters from dangers and avoided many.

The queen had made a few puppets in the past and placed life within them. Surely something like bringing a child from land to the waters would be simple if not Ayato knew a few who could be of help. A few secrets and a few words would be enough.

He could make a deal with the sorcerer who Ayaka made a deal with to change her tail to legs.

Ayato would take something your father so cherished just like he took Ayaka away from the world. Ayato's hands tightened around your small wrist, flinching in pain you looked up confused.

"What is the matter Ayato?" You asked yet Ayato just shook his head.

Placing you on his lap he let you play with his arm, you were always so fond of the iridescent scales of his so he always let you touch them when he wants to keep you in his arms.

He will take you that your father treasures most.

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skeleton-mischief · 1 month

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Nightmare Sans

Oh sinful child, wash off your bones but never forget that blood is thicker than water. Nightmare, was it all really worth it?

Headcanons below. Warning though, I changed some stuff up for the og story to fit how I like it teehee

- Official height changes, but he can be from 5'7 to 6'6(Jesus 💀)

- He/They

- Nihilist, he despises Fate and the Creators

- The embodiment and King of Negativity/A God if you will

- His castle was created when he was corrupted, and later on decided to make it himself

- Naturally cold to the touch, he's not easily affected by temperature

- Has synesthesia, he can see and smell others emotions/aura

- He likes sea animals, they're odd and yet so pretty and mysterious

- Has khopesh blades for weapons because they're twin blades

- He dreams of other versions of him, but he can never find them and often he is haunted by them

- An angry crier, hyperventilates and gets frustrated. Tries to be quiet, but sometimes ends up being loud anyways

- Pessimistic, cynical, observant, responsible, sarcastic, serious, assertive, untrusting, cunning, ruthless, manipulative, reserved, blunt, bitter, intelligent, patient, authoritative, cocky, and stubborn

- He is outright nasty to others, the type to jab at others when possible

- He grows more exhausted overtime once his resentment and bitter anger starts to fade over time

- he is more emotionally driven when his brother is involved in fights that he gets involved in, while more logical otherwise since Dream is the only one to get him like that

- He knows he's fucked up and deep down wants to repent for the wrongs that he has done towards the multiverse. And yet, he has his duties to fulfill

- He fears being vulnerable and doesn't get close to others as a result

- He makes deals and can "play" with his victims when he chooses to. Alliances are all well and good as well, but he is only loyal for as long as the contracts are fulfilled and as long as the other is loyal

- Time thaws his heart, in truth he can feel just as much as a child as Dream at times

- They have a giant library that they read

- Has wonderful manners and speaks very formally. Due to their origins, they also happen to have an accent of some sorts

- His goo tends to always return to him so one ability of his is flicking goo before it can harden and sharpen like spikes at a location

- He can be hit with anything and not get affected unless it's a weapon from his brother

- Strong positivity makes him nauseous, lightheaded, and weak

- Can sense other people's emotions but has the most influence on negativity

- Can analyze others extremely well, reading their body language and analyzing their words

- Hobbies of theirs include reading and writing, or even playing piano since he has a fondness for it

- His magic smells of something akin to earthy scents and moisture, like oak with wet dirt that carries a faint sweetness of decay. His magic tastes something akin to apple

- He's intolerant to children being injured, bullied, or abused. It reminds him of his childhood and thus he is protective of them

- Despite scaring most children, he refuses to harm them and is quite patient and kind to them

- He misses his brother, he does. He tells Dream things he doesn't mean in moments of anger or to get at him, but he doesn't mean pretty much most of it. He doesn't actually blame Dream, at least since he's matured over time

- He never got closure when Dream turned to stone, so those wounds opened up easily when he found out that he was alive. He tried to bury his past but his brother, whose bone is of a porcelain memory to his origins, haunt him

- He can't stand the color yellow, it reminds him of Dream. But, he has secret items that are of a yellow color

- He is fond of flower language and his favorite flower is the purple hyacinth. Fun fact: hyacinth blossoms under full sunlight, and they have wonderful symbolism. Dahlias, orchids, and hydrangea are those he is fond of as well

- He treasures the few things he's gifted, but rarely does he receive anything

- He gets slightly uncomfortable around stone, even if he knows that no one is inside. It just makes him secretly nervous

- Loves animals, but he won't touch them due to his goop and negativity

- His teeth can form into sharp fangs and he has clawed hands, his bone sharpened over time

- He avoids water because if he's fully submerged you can see the inner body that negativity possesses. Aka his original one

- He usually is covered in goop but rarely does it remove around him as a sort of venom situation. In fact, the two are separate entities in some ways, working as one

- Funnily enough he's a perfectionist who likes his things organized, especially when it comes to plans

- Does not use or understand slang

- He is a wonderful strategist, he even plays chess and can use the pieces as a visual understanding of it

- Hates sleep and avoids it until it's impossible to do so

- Can go into other people's dreams and cause intense nightmares, but he cannot do the same for his own and he is forgotten the moment the individual awakes

- He actually cares deeply for a lot of things, but he refuses to acknowledge this under most circumstances. If he vocalizes it, he threatens others to not do anything towards it

- He doesn't hate Error or even Ink, but he finds both to be a pain in the ass. Ink is one of the few he can't wrap his head around and he is one of the few who suspects Ink, especially because his emotions and aura seem....odd

- A more quiet and reserved being, he doesn't talk much unless he has to address someone or when he chooses to respond

- He's hard to read due to his air of apathy, he has learned how to avoid others detecting how he feels

- Even after eons, he won't let anyone else harm Dream

- The stronger the negativity, the larger he grows

- His original name is Night, him and Nightmare are separate but very much intertwined

- His original job was to protect those from negativity and also balance emotions in hard times to guide others, allowing sadness to occur

- Used to Call Dream Sunny as his nickname, and he refuses to let anyone call him Nighty since only Dream called him that

- People like to think of Night being manipulated by negativity but also it's important to note that what if that negative entity actually did feel that pain Nighty went through and was a source of comfort for him when Mother Tree wasn't? Yes, it eventually hurt him by convincing him to eat the apples to be corrupt, but if it's a parasite in my interpretation? I'd want to be maybe like- a situation where the corruption was also genuinely caring of Nighty while simultaneously being the reason Nighty indulged in his anger and hurt

- Multilingual, he knows every language fluently

- He had time to learn how to read and write, he forgot that Dream didn't the first time he saw a tree inside an AU carved by Dream with horrible writing underneath. That realization sort of made his "soul" crumble at the thought

- He has severe thanantophobia, he actually is deeply afraid of dying despite his circumstances. It's something he stresses out about and when Dream became more dangerous, he grew more nervous

- He's actually insecure about his aura at times, especially near those he doesn't wish to harm. He worries if they don't want to be around him because of it, which just worsens his aura

- He thought Dream died long ago, as he was disoriented and was too busy grieving. He didn't actually want Dream to die, and I actually hc that he threw the cloak over Dream to protect him as an apple happened to fall underneath with Dream. He was ashamed when Dream saw him again, and saw who he became. Still, he didn't want to change his ways because of the resentment he still held at the time

- He used to visit Dream and would cry next to his statue before he went off to feed off negative timelines. Even then, he would visit on their birthday

- He destroys mirrors and refuses to look at himself. He doesn't want to remember what he used to look like or who he's now become

- He has a secret painting that he was able to create deep inside his castle, one of Dream. He has destroyed previous ones due to finding them imperfect, a disgusting reminder, etc. this one though, this one he keeps

- His favorite fruit is pomegranate, he can perfectly deseed it and it's his favorite snack other than apple pie

- He used to be great with animals, barely do any of them approach him however

- He likes forests, the scent and even the sensation. He just wishes that he could feel Mother Tree again

- He enjoys herbal tea, actually much more than coffee and his favorite is lavender tea

- He avoids anything related to apples or fire, it reminds him of his past and in fact he grows nervous about it

- Doesn't realize that his tentacles react to his emotions, going so far as to flick with irritation at times

- His tentacles often just appear at will or with extreme emotion, but when they do appear to be actually quite painful since they tore through his back bones. Nowadays, he's numb to it and the bones have attempted to grow back due to magic healing he's attempted to find

- His tentacles actually can act like tree branches or at least resemble them. Firm, shaped similar, etc

- Genderless but prefers masc pronouns

- He actually never lies, but twisting the truth so hard involves enough intellect and leaves him to be a dangerous figure

- on the aroace spectrum

- Gets really goopy when sleeping, to the point he looks boneless

- Out of respect and guilt after coming back to his senses after the incident, he used parts of Mother Tree as custom furniture inside his castle so that she doesn't go to waste at all.

- He actually could hear her screaming when he was corrupted, and that sound haunts him

- He forgot what a hug feels like, the only time he was ever hugged in his life was with Dream. Time caused him to forget

- I feel that his form, present, isn't his true form but he keeps it up because it not only was the turning point in his life, but what protected him. It's why I think it works as something else when it detached itself. The goop at this point is a different part of who he is, and only when he is alone does it detach to speak

- Even if he causes nightmares and enters inside other monsters minds, he actually just has dreams. He dreams of what would've happened if they were happy, being raised by the mother tree, if he and his brother grew up without being guardians. It haunts him, makes him question if he was actually just justified in what he did. Was his actions worth it?

- He hates losing control of situations, absolutely throws a fit

- Struggles getting drunk, so he only drinks wine and magical drinks. Smoking doesn't please him, goop covers it anyways

- He doesn't discriminate, fools. Useless hatred feeds him, sure, but that doesn't mean he agrees and even will react violently towards blatant hate crimes

Closing Notes: no one talk to me, no one look at me. I don't exist, these two are the reasons I need therapy

#headcanon #undertale au #alternate universe #nightmare sans #nighty #utmv sans #utmv au #utmv #dreamtale #he deserves better #i want to cry #i want to hold him #tell him that hes going to be okay #he was just a kid #hes so traumatized #ourgh

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emilyssky · 1 year

Text

War Of Hearts // JJ Maybank

PAIRING: JJ Maybank! x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 13.7k

GENRE(S): smut, angst, fluff, fuck buddies to lovers

WARNINGS: smut [ praise, degradation, fingering, dirty talk, oral sex, choking, slapping, spanking] , mentions of violence, mentions of blood, swearing, mentions of alcohol, smoking. Jealous and protective JJ !

Author's note:Wrote this last night after finishing season 3, hope you’ll like it :)

SUMMARY:

You and JJ have been messing around for a few months now until you try to cut it off because of your growing feelings for him that you think are one sided. A series of unfortunate events bring you face to face with unexpected fear and your relationship with JJ when you get caught up in their treasure hunt.

I've always loved summer. Something about the warm weather, the sun, the ocean, and the salt on my skin made me feel alive. For the most part, I loved my life in ΟΒΧ. Some would say that I was born blessed, that I got both sides of the coin with my mom being a pogue and my dad being a kook but it feels mostly like a curse to me. My whole life I've never been fully accepted by either side. I wasn't t rich and snobby enough for the Kooks and never wild and spontaneous enough for the Pogues. It's not like I was on bad terms with anyone, everyone was friendly enough but ever since I could remember I felt left out, never having real friends. And if I'm being honest, it wasn't the kooks that I was jealous of, something about the pogue life pull me in. It seemed exciting and freeing in a way. When my mom married my dad and had me she knew that she wanted me to grow up knowing both sides. She wanted to offer me the chance to be the one to choose where I belong. She's big on following your heart and dreams and always told me growing up that I'll find my way and that if I follow my gut, the choice is gonna be pretty easy. We lived in Figure 8 but my mom opened a cafe on the south side, wanting to keep in touch with that side of her life. My life is a series of the same things over and over again. I like spending time alone, if I'm not at school or working my shift at the cafe, I'll probably be by the beach, reading or surfing. Sometimes I will go on boat rides with my dad or steal the keys and go by myself. It's not often that I will hang out with the Kooks, in fact, Sarah Cameron is probably the only person that I would voluntarily hang out with and actually enjoy it. And when it comes to the Pogues, everyone knows that it's just Kie and her boys. I'm friendly with all of them, occasionally have chat with or enjoy the waves together but that's about it.

Today is a day exactly like any other; I finished school and came straight to the cafe. It was not too crowded, with only a few regular customers enjoying their usual cup of coffee. I was behind the counter, cleaning the coffee machines, making sure everything was full and ready until I heard them. It's the group of kids that you hear before you see. John B enters first, pushing his long brown hair back as he laughs at something Pope is saying. I like John B, we share a lot in common and have nice conversations from time to time. He's a really fun and social person but this year was a rough one for him. His dad went missing almost a year ago, many people consider him dead by now but John B will not accept it, he still thinks he's alive, somewhere lost at sea. My mom and his dad were close back in the day before she met my dad and moved to figure 8. We used to play together when we were young up until he met his current best friends. My dad offered him a few jobs involving our boat and at the cafe, after Big John disappeared so I've been seeing him around more lately. Pope and Kiara follow right behind him. Me and Kie used to be close, but now our relationship has changed into a few talks here and there, I still consider her one of my closest friends though. Pope is fun. He's one of the few people that talks to me normally and always makes me feel comfortable at social events or parties. And lastly, my favourite pogue follows. JJ Maybank. Me and JJ have an interesting relationship. Teasing, flirting, bickering, that's his speciality with every girl in the Outer Banks, kook or pogue but sometimes I like to think that he actually enjoys my company. He was always the one I was looking forward to see but today he's the one I'm trying to avoid and have been trying for the past 2 weeks. His blue eyes find mine the minute he walks through the door, and a smirk spreads across his face.

"Hey, Y/n" John B greets me, reaching the counter.

"I'm not serving you free coffee." I immediately shake my head, knowing exactly what they want.

"Oh, come on." He frowns his thick brows, fake pouting.

I let a small chuckle at his attempt. "How many times do you think it will take for my mum to notice?"

"One more?" He offers, lifting his shoulders.

I scoff, shaking my head again.

"Come on, your mum loves me anyway." He presses.

"Yeah, but my dad not so much."

JJ places his elbows on the counter, right next to John B, and I immediately look down, continuing cleaning the coffee machine like I was doing before they came in.

"What if I'm the one asking?" He says, leaning in with that playful smile of his that I know all too well.

"Then it's defiantly a no." I fake a tight smile.

"Why so grumpy today princess?" He places a hand over his heart.

I roll my eyes and turn back to John B. He brings his palms together, begging me silently.

I sigh. "This is the last time." I point my finger at both of them.

"Yes!" They high-five each other.

"I'll bring it over." I wave them off.

I lift my eyes to his only for a second, catching the wink he sends my way as he follows John B to their usual table where Kie and Pope are seated.

I quickly fix up 4 iced coffees and walk over to them.

"Here you go."

"You're the best." John B touches my side lightly.

"You're coming next Saturday right?" Kie asks reaching for her coffee.

"What's next Saturday?" I question placing the last coffee on the table.

"We're throwing a party on the beach. It's gonna be fun." Pope explains.

"You're coming." JJ states without looking my way.

"I'll see." I nod at Kie with a small smile before leaving them to it. I walk back to the safety of my counter feeling his eyes burning on my back. The parties here at obx were always good. It's the one time that Kooks and Pogues can coexist in one place without jumping on each other's throats. Well, sometimes at least. It's fun nevertheless, all of us drinking and dancing by the beach forgetting our responsibilities and problems for a little while. I stay behind the counter, doing any task possible to distract myself but anytime I let my gaze fall his way, he's already looking.

"Thanks for the coffee Y/n." John B waves at me as they leave about an hour later.

"See you at the party cupcake." He brings two fingers to his forehead.

"Maybe." I shrug, walking to their table to clean up.

"You know I'll be miserable without you." He yells already out the door.

. . . .

I don't usually work on Fridays, so after school, you'll probably find me at the beach if I'm not locked in my room. I enjoy my alone time. Riding the waves, sitting under the sun with a good book, or drawing in my sketchbook. Today my mind felt a little heavier, so I took my time, and before I knew it the sun began setting. I quickly throw my bag over my shoulder and begin to make my way back, realising that it's almost dinner time. I silently curse at myself for not riding my bike to the beach cause the walk back to Figure 8 seems dreadful. My ears perk up catching the sound of a motorcycle approaching with speed and I close my eyes hoping that it's not him but when I hear the motorcycle slowing down I know that my hope is not coming true. He stops beside me and I stop walking, turning to look at him. His hair is pushed back by the wind, he's wearing a simple white t-shirt with grey cargo pants, and his face is as pretty as always. My eyes narrow a little as I spot a bruise over his right cheekbone and it doesn't take long before I spot all the different marks and scars across his face.

He still forces a smug smile on his lips, ignoring my staring. "Having an afternoon surfing session princess?"

"What happened?" My eyes can't stop studying his face.

"Oh, you know the Kooks had it coming." He shrugs, masking his face perfectly like he always does but I know better.

"JJ." I trail off, my stomach tightening knowing exactly where he got these injuries from.

His jaw tightens. "It's nothing' Y/n. Same old, same old." I shake my head, in disgust. I can't even stand the thought that his dad walks around the OBX freely. He's such a piece of shit. "Get on the bike." He nods behind him.

"It's fine, I'll walk." I tilt my chin.

He scoffs with a smirk. "When will you stop with this whole act you’re putting on?" He waves his hand around.

I change the weight from my right to my left leg, crossing my arms. "I don't know what you're talking about." I keep my face expressionless, ignoring the way his beaten face cause my heart to tighten.

His eyebrows come together and his gaze shifts, dropping the playful act. "You're ignoring me." He states.

I'm trying.

I avoided his eyes cause I know that the more I look at them the weaker I get. It happens every time, I say that I'm gonna stand my ground and then I find myself beside him regardless.

"Look," He clears his throat, eyes moving everywhere. A weird expression takes over his features and I immediately know that he feels uncomfortable. "I don't care why you're pushing me away but can you stop ignoring me for a few hours?" He struggles to speak the words and that makes me a little warm inside. I glance at his bruised face once more, remembering all the times he came to me after his fights with his father. All the long talks we would have in order to get his mind off of it or the times I would sneak him through my window to treat his injuries.

I sigh and silently climb behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist. I feel him chuckle. "Just so you know, we're just talking."

"Sure." I can't see his face but I bet he's grinning.

He took his time, driving aimlessly around the streets of OBX. I don't mind though, I know him enough to know that it helps him clear his head, so I stay silent resting my head against his back and enjoying the ride. The sun has set and the night breeze tingles my skin in the best way. I notice that he takes the familiar route to my house.

"Are your parents home?" He yells, looking behind his shoulder.

"Yeah, I think."

"We'll have to be quiet then." He clicks his tongue.

"Like that has stopped you before." I smile against his shoulder.

"True." He glances at me again, the corners of his mouth lifting.

He parks his bike a block down from my house and he walks quietly around the back while I go from the front door.

"Hey, honey." My mom yells from the kitchen at the sound of the door opening.

"Hey, mom." I enter the kitchen, sneaking my arms around her waist while she chops some cucumbers, preparing a salad for dinner.

"Dinner will be ready soon." She smiles.

"Oh, I'm not hungry, I already ate." I brush her off, walking to the fridge.

"It smells amazing dear." My dad enters the kitchen, dropping his keys on the kitchen table.

My mom flashes a smile at my dad before turning back to me. "When did you eat?"

"I hung out with Kie by the beach and we had some sandwiches." I quickly make up an excuse, grabbing a water bottle and closing the fridge.

"Just Kiara?" My dad lifts an eyebrow.

"Yes dad," I sigh.

"Honey." My mom scolds him.

"What?" He lifts his shoulders. "I'm sorry that I don't want my daughter hanging around boys that smoke weed, get drunk, and steal shit on the daily."

"Mark." She glares at him.

"They're not stealing anything, dad." I narrow my eyes, sick of him attacking them all the time. "They're not like that, you don't know them."

"Well, some of them are." He continues and I know exactly who he's referring to.

"You're wrong" I shake my head, lifting my hands. " and you're not gonna tell me who I can and can't hang out with." I walk past him shooting him a glare and head up the stairs.

"Y/n." I hear my mom yell but I ignore her and hurry into my room, slamming the door shut and locking it.

JJ's shoulder is rest against the open window, arms crossed in front of him with an unreadable expression. I drop my gaze to the floor, walking to sit on my bed and placing the bottle on my nightstand, feeling a little ashamed for the way my dad spoke about him and his friends.

"I'm sorry for my dad." I feel the need to say.

He moves to sit next to me, forcing a tight smile on his lips. "It's fine, we all know his opinion about the south side."

I move my head, trying to get a better look at him. "Hey, are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah princess you don't have to worry about me." The nickname tugs at my heart almost as much as his smile.

I reach to touch his hair, pushing them back and toying with the short hair at the nape of his neck. "You know you can talk to me."

His eyes twitch with suppressed emotion, his jaw set with eyebrows frowned. "I know." I offer him a small smile, not moving my hand. "Can you, like, talk to me?" He asks. His eyes are screaming even though he manages to keep his expression under control. "I want you to take my mind off things, just talk to me about anything." His tone is almost begging.

I bring my knees to my chest, wrap my arms around them and turn to face him. 'What do you wanna know about this time? My weird obsession with serial killer documentaries, my views on feminism, or if I put the milk or cereal first?"

His face breaks into the first real smile today and I feel a little proud. He shakes his head lightly, his eyes not leaving mine before he pulls me by the neck, smashing his lips to mine. It's like all the pain he carries and all the words he desperately wants to say are spoken by the way he moves his lips hungrily against mine. The softness of his mouth contrasts his rough breathing as his hands hold my face, pulling me closer to him. His small groan that echoes through the room and the feeling of his tongue brushing over mine snaps me back to reality.

"Jay," I whimper, pushing at his chest lightly.

His lips leave mine but our foreheads stay together. "I'm sorry." He mumbles, inhaling short, sharp breaths.

My fingers trace his bruises and my stomach twists even at the thought of how his dad created them. I hate how he grew up having to hide all this pain and I hate how he's being treated. "I don't want you to go back to him tonight." I whisper and his eyes snap to mine. "Stay with me."

His face finally breaks, and the emotion in his eyes overtakes his whole expression.

"But we're just sleeping," I lean back, pointing my finger at him. "and you'll have to leave before my parents wake up."

His eyes water a bit but a grin paints his lips as he wraps his arms around me, pushing me back to the bed.

A giggle escapes me. Damn him.

. . . . . . . .

"I'm going with Topper." Sarah touches up her already perfect makeup.

"Ugh." I groan. "What do you even see in him?" I scrunch up my nose. Sarah is the only kook that I can stand to hang out with. And the only Cameron I actually like.

"He's nice." She rolls her eyes at me, holding up two dresses, one yellow and one blue. "Stop being a bitch to him. Which one?"

I tilt my head." The yellow one obviously."

"What are you wearing?" She questions while peeling off her clothes and changing into the short yellow dress.

"I don't know if I want to go." I lay back down on her king-size bed.

"Come on, you love parties. Is it that you don't wanna go or that you don't wanna see a certain someone?" She wiggles her brows at me.

"I'm just not in the mood." I shrug, looking away but she sees right through me.

"Yeah right." She chuckles. "Cut the shit and get dressed." She throws a black shirt on me.

. . . . .

The beach is full of people, kooks, and pogues dancing, drinking, and having fun. Big barrels of beer everywhere, stands with bottles of alcohol and hundreds of red cups here and there. It's not even midnight and everyone is already wasted. Most of the girls are in their bikinis by now, dancing like there's no tomorrow on top of giant rocks. The minute we enter the party, I go straight for the beer, pouring myself a cup. My eyes silently search the crowd for any sight of his fluffy, blonde hair, or of any of his friends. I spot Kie and Pope taking shots with a few other people and John B just a few meters again, flirting with a blonde girl but he's nowhere to be found.

"Looking for someone?" Rafe says close to my ear, catching me off guard and making me flinch away. He smiles at my reaction.

"What are you doing here?" He's one of the people that rarely joins things like this. He and his friends really don't get along with the pogues, unlike me and Sarah. I try my best to limit my contact with Rafe, Topper, and the rest of their little group but somehow they find a way to be right in my face.

"Enjoying the free alcohol." He lifts the cup to his lips, hiding his smile. "What are you doing here?"

I take a sip of my beer. "I came with Sarah."

He nods, eyeing me up and down. "You look gorgeous as always."

I roll my eyes at his compliment. "Thanks."

"You know," He leans in closer. "you're always cold towards us but when it comes to these pogues you're a fucking angel. Why is that?"

I sigh out loud, not really in the mood to deal with his whining. "Cause I can. " I offer him a smile before walking away, blending in with the dancing crowd.

It didn't take more than 4 cups of alcohol, to find myself dancing between a few half-naked girls, that are probably as drunk as I am. My body has a mind of its own as I swing my hips to the beat of some '00 song. I lost sight of Sarah half an hour ago when she disappeared with Topper, and I joined Kie and Pope and took a few shots before throwing myself between the sweaty bodies, pretending that the fact that JJ is still nowhere to be found does not affect me at all. He's a known player around the Obx, sleeping around, flirting his way through, breaking hearts left and right and I've had my fair share of it. But the game he's playing is a dangerous one, and I'm trying to protect myself the best way I can.

"Shots!." John B yells, throwing his hands in the air, holding a bottle of tequila in his right one. A few girls extend their cups for him to pour them some but I've probably dropped mine while dancing cause it's not between my fingers anymore.

I tap on his shoulder to get his attention. "Hit me!" I yell over the music and open my mouth wide.

"Let's go!" He yells pouring a shot straight into my mouth. The alcohol drips down my chin as I try to swallow, my eyes watering at the process.

"Another one." John B says and taps my chin waiting for me to open my mouth again and I do. All eyes are suddenly on us, everyone is cheering and yelling as I shallow my fourth shot in a row and I feel two hands grabbing me by the legs and lifting me higher. I throw my hands in the air, laughing as the people around me scream louder. My mind is somewhere else, and I let the carefree feeling and numbness that comes with alcohol overtake me. Until I open my eyes. I sober up in a second when my eyes find his. His on top of a rock, smoking with a few other people. A girl leans in towards him, her hand wrapping around him as she laughs at something Pope said but he stays unbothered, his eyes still on me as he lifts his cup my way with a nod and a smile. I nod back not knowing what to do before turning back to the girls I was dancing with. I continue moving to the music but my mind isn't letting me shake him off. Suddenly, the alcohol feels heavy in my stomach and the sound of my heartbeat is louder than the music in my ears. My hand flies to my mouth as I run out of the dancing crowd and as far away as I can from the people before dropping to my knees and vomiting in a bag full of used cups. I feel two hands reaching for my hair as all the alcohol that I consumed leaves my system.

"It's okay, I got you." I hear Rafe's voice over the music that has faded a bit due to the distance. "Here" He hands me a napkin.

"Thank you." I cough out, taking the napkin, and bringing it to my lips.

"Hold on, let me bring you some water."

I wipe my mouth and drop the napkin inside the trash bag.

"Here." He pushes a cup of water into my hand, tugging my hair behind my ear as I take a few sips of the water slowly. "Stop drinking so much Y/n, Jesus."

"I'm okay." I rise to my feet.

"Come on," His hand wraps around my waist. "let's take you home yeah?" He starts pulling me towards the other side of the beach.

"I don't think she's going anywhere with you Cameron." My head snaps to the right, hearing Rafe scoff at the sight of JJ. JJ's eyes twitch when they fall on me, his eyebrows coming together.

"I don't think you have a saying in what she does pogue." Rafe's hands drop from my body as he takes a step forward.

JJ's expression shifts in a second when he moves his eyes from me to Rafe, a smile spreading over his lips. "Oh I think I do," He takes a step forward as well. "And she's not going anywhere with you." His voice drops a little.

"I suggest you take a step back." Rafe doesn't back down.

JJ's eyes darken. "Or what?" He takes yet another step. "Last time I checked you're still nipping at her heels and following her around in case she pities you and gives you a chance."

Rafe lets out a growl, pushing JJ backwards but he just laughs mockingly, knowing he hit a nerve but that angers Rafe more.

I step between them before Rafe can make another move. "Stop acting like five-year-olds." I look at both of them, but they ignore me, not taking their eyes off each other.

"Hey," My hand touches Rafe's chest, forcing his eyes away from JJ. "go back to the party, I'll let you know when I'm ready to leave." I lie, knowing that it's the only way to make him walk away without creating a scene cause trying to make JJ drop this would be even harder. Rafe's eyes narrow, flickering back to JJ. I reach for his hand, softening my tone. "I'll find you." I nod, trying to reassure him.

He nods back, letting out a sigh. "Turn him down kindly babe." He says, knocking JJ's shoulder with his as he walks out.

JJ's eyes are fixated on me. "You'll let him know when you're ready to leave huh?" He says when Rafe's far enough.

"Maybe." I play along, shrugging my shoulders.

His tongue comes out to wet his pink lips, hands resting on his hips as he takes a step towards me. "Is that so?"

"Last time I checked I can go home with anyone I want." I cross my arms, trying not to let my gaze drop to his lips.

"We both know that I would never let that happen." His voice drops, his tone raspier.

"Why JJ?" I tilt my head upwards due to our height difference but that doesn't stop me from taking a step forward as well, only leaving a few inches between us.

His fingers wrap around my neck, catching me off guard. "Come on now princess, let's not play dumb." He smirks.

"I'm not playing dumb. Actually, I'm done playing." I wrap my hand around his wrist, pulling it away from my neck.

Something flashes over his eyes but doesn't stay for long. "Trust me, I'm done playing as well." He mumbles before cupping my jaw with both hands, not letting me escape and in a split second his lips crush into mine. My breath hitches as the taste of weed and beer coats my tongue but I'd be lying if I say that I haven't missed it. It's been a week since the last time I kissed him and since then I've tried to keep myself at a distance, knowing that the more I let this go on the more invested I become, and knowing JJ, it will not end up well If I do. He lets out a low moan as his tongue enters my mouth, colliding passionately with mine. My fingers grab his shirt for support, my body suddenly overwhelmed by the familiar knot in my stomach that begins to build.

"Fuck, I missed you baby." He breaks the kiss, allowing me to take a much-needed breath. I dare to lift my eyes, looking up at him through my eyelashes, only to find him looking hungrily down at me. His hands travel from my jaw, down to the curve of my waist and he pulls my body to his. "You kept me waiting for so long." He breathes out, resting his forehead on mine.

"JJ" My tone begging and warning at the same time. "We shouldn't be doing this."

"You can not name a single good reason for us not to." He says, running his thumb over my bottom lip.

"I can name a few."

His hands drop to my ass and in a swift move, he lifts me off the ground forcing my legs to wrap around his waist. "I'd rather hear other sound out of that pretty mouth of yours." He starts walking away from the party, keeping his hands secure under my thighs and crashing his lips to mine once again. He makes sure we're far enough from the crowd and behind plenty of trees and bushes before stopping and dropping me carefully on the sand. He breaks the kiss, straightening his body and reaching to peel off his white long-sleeve shirt.

"You look fucking amazing tonight." He doesn't break eye contact. "I was hard from the minute I saw you walk in." He leans back down, his eyes roaming over my body as if he hasn't seen it in ages.

My hands reach for the ends of my shirt, pulling it over my head. "Fuck." He dives hungrily into my naked chest. Sucking, nibbling, and biting. He squeezes my boobs between his palms, rolling his tongue over my nipples, making them harder by the second. His wet lips slide down my stomach teasingly as his fingers toy with the button of my shorts before finally unbuttoning it. He drags it down my legs, leaving me in my black panties, exposed and ready for him. Somehow I always find myself in this position as much as I'm trying to avoid it but the sight of him desperately fumbling with his belt as his eyes devour my body is one that I'll never get enough of.

I lift myself onto my knees, lowering my body so I'm facing his crotch. I pull down his shorts along with his boxers freeing his already hard member. A small moan escapes my lips at the sight, my mouth watering. His thumb and index finger reach for my jaw, tilting my head to meet his dark gaze.

"I want your eyes on me as you choke on my dick, okay princess?" He says and I'm aflame from head to toe. He takes his dick in his other hand, pumping it a few times before dragging the tip across my lips, coating them with his leaking precum. I keep my eyes locked on his wild blue ones as I take him in my mouth.

"Fuck" He curses under his breath as I twirl my tongue around the tip. I replace his hand with mine, taking him deeper, the size of him weighing on my tongue. I relax my jaw, allowing almost his whole member to enter my mouth. His hands fist my hair while his hips begin to thrust forward, lightly fucking himself in my mouth.

"You're so fucking good at this baby." He praises me. "Look at you choking on it, that's it." I force myself to breathe through my nose while saliva starts dripping from my mouth down to my chin. He fastens his pace only for a few seconds before, pulling my head sharply back by my hair, his dick dropping from my mouth as I gasp for air.

He groans out loud. "I missed this."

His words sink in as much as I try not to let them. It's always 'I missed this' and never 'I missed you.'

He connects our lips again, tasting himself while he pushes me down on my back. His fingers run over my clothed pussy, and that's enough to make my back arch, silently begging him for more. My body responds to him in ways that I can't explain or control. Just a touch and he has me already panting. He pulls my underwear to the side opening my folds with his middle finger.

"Ugh." I gasp.

"Shit baby, you're already dripping." He whispers satisfied against my lips. His mouth falls to the curve of my neck, sucking on my skin as his fingers begin to rub circles over my clit making tiny moans escape me. Unexpectedly, he slides two fingers inside me, quickly building a fast pace.

"Oh, my god." I shut my eyes, pleasure creeping into my lower belly.

"You respond to me so well princess." He kisses me, capturing my bottom lip between his teeth. His fingers pump in and out of me, making my breath shorter as the pleasure builds.

"God Jay, I'm gonna-" The words die in my throat and the flicker of his thumb on my clit sends me unexpectedly over the edge. My orgasm rushes over me like a wave, my body going numb for a few seconds, gasps and moans leaving my lips.

"That's it baby, ride it out." His pace slows down a bit before pulling his fingers out. He leaves wet kisses along my jaw, making my eyes fly open.

"I want more. " My tone begging with no embarrassment.

A grin overtakes his lips, his eyes shining under the dim light of the moon. "I want you on your hands and knees. " He demands.

My body moves on its own, and before my mind can catch up I'm on all four, my ass on display in front of him. He runs his palms over the skin before slapping sharply my right ass-cheek.

I gasp, flinching forward. "That's for flirting with Rafe."

"I wasn't flirting with-"

Another slap.

"And that's for ignoring me for a week." He growls. I stay silent as he pulls my underwear to the side again. He strokes my pussy with the head of his dick, dragging it up and down my slit, teasing me.

"JJ please," I whine desperately.

He leans down bringing his lips beside my ear. "Say you're sorry for ignoring me."

I swallow the last bit of pride that's left in me, understanding that my need for him is too big, and knowing that his ego is hurt, I do as he says. "I'm sorry for ignoring, I'm sorry."

"You want me?" He presses, his tone dripping with enjoyment.

"Yes, I want you so bad, please." I push my ass backwards.

He lets out a low chuckle and I hear him rip open a condom, seconds later his head presses against my entrance and slides in slowly. We both let out a groan at the feeling. God, I missed this too.

"Ready?" He asks breathlessly after a few seconds.

I nod my head, allowing him to move his hips. He grabs a full fist of my hair while his other hand stays on the curve of my ass before he pulls out and slams back in.

I immediately gasp when he begins to thrust inside me building a fast and steady rhythm.

"God, you're so fucking tight." He groans. The sound of skin on skin fills the air and my breaths begin to come out short as I arch my back. His dick feels too good inside me, almost heavenly. The way he moves, the sounds he makes, I've missed everything.

"Fuck it's so good." I brokenly moan. His balls begin to hit perfectly at my clit, pushing me closer and closer to my second orgasm. His grip on my hair tightens and pants of air mixed with low growls leave his mouth. I'm struggling to keep my body up as a fucks me harder than ever before and the fire in my belly grows.

"I'm not gonna last long." He mumbles in my ear but the pleasure between my legs is too much, my muscles burn and I squeeze my eyes shut as I let my second orgasm wash over me, euphoria spreading at every inch of my body. My legs begin to shake the sensation too intense as he fucks me through the last of it. His thrusts become sloppier, his nails digging into the flesh of my ass.

He falls forward and I feel his heartbeat on my back. "Fuck, Y/n." He lets an animistic growl in my ear, his body stilling completely as he empties himself inside the condom. Drops of sweat fall from the tips of his blonde hair on my shoulder, while both he and I catch out breaths. After almost a minute he plants a kiss on my back before pulling out slowly. The feeling of emptiness creeps in, alongside with the embarrassment and the realisation of what just happened. I hear him pulling the condom out and throwing it somewhere, while I stay almost frozen. Now that everything is done, I can't find the strength to face him. I lift myself to my feet, my legs still a little weak but I ignore it reaching for my shorts and putting them back on. I keep my back to him and my head low as reach for my top. The sound of his belt lets me know that he doing the same. I feel a tap on my shoulder and I turn around. He holds up my shirt between his fingers.

"Thanks." My voice falters. I pull the shirt over my head and run my fingers through my tangled hair. I feel his eyes on me, burning at the side of my head. I build up all the courage that I can master and turn my gaze to him and it takes one second to regrade it. He stands there, fully dressed, his blonde hair a mess, looking at me with those eyes. Those big, blue eyes that I've grown so used to over the last few months, staring at me with so much softness, analysing. Suddenly, my body is fighting a wave of emotions.

"What?" I ask, my tone almost a whisper.

He clenches and unclenches his jaw, his eyes saying so much but his mouth, not a single word. "I'm taking you home." He states before turning around and walking away back towards the party. I don't fight him, I simply follow him to his bike. Both of us know exactly what's going on, I know he understands what I'm trying to do but he doesn't seem to understand why and I don't bother explaining. I know him. I know how he is, I know how he reacts. I know who he is and who I am. I keep my hands tight around his waist as we make the short way towards my house on his bike. I try to enjoy these last few moments with him. It's always stolen moments like these. On his bike, on the beach, hidden in John B's van, silently in my room, or in my dad's boat. And that's not enough.

It's been days since I last saw him. He left me home, with a small nod and a goodnight and I haven't seen him since then. Truth be told, I haven't worked at the cafe at all, claiming to my mother that I have a lot of homework, which is partly true. I've been distracting myself as much as I can with school and studying. Tonight is no different, I'm sitting comfortably in my bed working on my homework for Monday.

"That's it, I'm done with this boy." My dad's yelling interrupts me, catching my attention.

"Honey please, he's going through a rough time." My mom tries to calm him down. "Let me talk to Y/n, maybe she knows something."

"She better not, she shouldn't be hanging out with these boys in the first place." I hear a door slam. I have heard my dad this angry in a long time, but usually, it is always about the same things; either me sneaking around and breaking his house rules or something to do with the pogues. My dad loves my mom and accepts her for who she is but he doesn't get why she still wants to have ties with the south side and most importantly why she wants me to grow up knowing both sides. But what are they fighting about now? What boy?

A soft knock on my door snaps me out of my thoughts. "Come in."

My mom opens the door slowly., entering my room. "Hey, honey." She closes the door behind her.

"What's going on mom? Why is dad yelling?" I ask her right away.

She lets out a sigh and approaches my bed, taking a seat. "Y/n have you talked to John B at all?"

My eyebrows twitch. "Um, no not really, why?"

She doesn't appear mad unlike the way my dad sounded a few seconds ago, instead, her face falls at my answer. "Are you sure? Have you talked to Kiara or the other boys?"

I shake my head, her questions confusing me more. "No mum, why?"

"Apparently the keys to the boat are nowhere to be found." She finally explains.

"And you think Jonh B stole them?" I lift both my brows. "Mom, come on, I mean I would expect something like this from dad but not from you."

"No, no" My mom shakes her head, reaching for my hand. "No, honey. You know what I think of him, I care about John B, I've known him since he was a child. I wouldn't mind if he took the key and had fun on the boat with his friends for a few days but you know how your dad gets."

"It's always the pogues' fault." I roll my eyes.

"Please talk to him, " She nods. "I would hate for him to lose his job because of something like this. Just ask if he took them."

I nod back. "Fine, I will."

"Thanks, honey." She places a kiss on my forehead. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight mom." I hold my smile until she closes the door. Why would John B take the keys to our boat? He knows that if he simply asked me or my mom we would let him borrow it. This doesn't seem like something he would do but then again, the only people that have access to the boat are me, my parents, and him. I reach for my phone and call John B but the phone rings and rings with no answer. I try a few more times, before trying Kie and Pope, but no luck. I stare at his number for a few seconds before pressing call, mentally preparing myself to listen to his voice after so long but just like the rest of them, he doesn't pick up.

"What the hell? Why is none answering?" .

I decided to go by the chateau after my morning shift at the cafe. I prepare myself and go over the things I'll say if by chance JJ's there as well but I stop in my tracks when an unfamiliar van comes into view packed outside the house. Sounds of glass breaking, things being thrown around, and doors slamming can be heard as I move closer to the house. I push myself behind a big tree, narrowing my eyes, trying to peer through the open window, when 2 men come into view. Big, muscular, and scary looking. Fear begins to spread through my body.

"You better not be in there boy!" One of them yells as they both throw themselves to a closed door, trying to open it. They kick and punch at the old wooden door as it slowly begins to crumble. Suddenly I see the window on the side of the house opening, and a body quickly forcing its way out of it. He turns around and I immediately recognise Pope's face. Kie follows shortly after with John B right behind them. They begin to run my way as I stay frozen, completely shocked by what's happening right in front of me. Pope's eyes lock with mine, his face taken over by a scared expression probably mirroring mine.

"Guys." He yells in a whispering tone and everyone's heads snap my way. JJ is the last to jump out the window, running behind his friends.

His eyes fall on me, eyes widening. "No, no, no." He mumbles as they all reach me. "No, not now." He grabs my arm just when a gunshot echoes through the area. I gasp, my body numbing with fear as JJ drags me along with them, my eyes not leaving the house as the 2 guys open the door and burst into the room that they guys came out of. JJ pulls me inside the small chicken coop closing the small door behind us. I bring my hand to cover my mouth, my fingers trembling. I look around taking in all of their scared faces. "W-what-" I try to say.

"What are you doing here?" JJ angrily whispers, pulling me by the arm to face him but I don't react.

"JJ now is not the time." Kie snaps at him, fear written all over her face as well. The chickens begin to make noise, yet nothing reaches me. "Do something. " She nods towards the chickens.

"Like what? Pet them?" Pope jokes while trying not to panic.

JJ reaches over taking the chicken in his hands and squeezing his little neck until it eventually stops breathing. I try to take deep breaths but my eyes stay locked on the house as the men get inside the car and drive off. Kiara takes my hand in her, tears wetting her cheeks.

"I think it's clear." John B says. "Come on." He steps out of the coop, Pope and Kiara following him.

JJ moves in front of me, stepping out as well. He extends his hand for me to take. My trembling fingers wrap around it, allowing him to pull me out.

"What are you here?" He repeats. His eyes look at me still panicked, moving around my face almost fanatically. His hands come up to my face, pushing hair away.

"I.." I try to form a sentence but my mouth is dry. "I was looking f-for John B."

"God." He runs his fingers through his hair, moving around.

"I thought we were going to die." Kie breathes out, holding her hand over her chest. Pope moves to her side and pulls her into a side hug.

"What just happened?" I say still trying to catch my own breath. "Who are they? What did they want?"

John B looks at his friends, and I know that he's silently asking them if he can tell me. He walks towards me. "Hey, I'm sorry you had to see that." He pulls me to his chest.

"Are you in trouble?" I look up at him. "you know that my mom will help you with anything. Just tell me."

"Y/n-"

"You don't have to know everything." JJ says, his hands crossed in front of him, his face suddenly cold.

I move my eyes to him, confused by his tone and sudden energy shift.

"JJ.." Kiara sends him a careful glare.

"Why were you looking for me?"

"Um," I mumble, my eyes still fixated on JJ. "did you take the keys to our boat?"

He closes his eyes, cursing under his breath. "Yeah," he looks at his friends again, all of them looking at me apologetically. What the hell is going on? I'm used to not being involved in pretty much anything when it comes to them, but this is not a joke.

I narrow my eyes at all of them, shaking my head. "Can anyone please explain to me what the fuck just happened?"

"Look Y/n-" Pope takes a step forward but JJ cuts him off, placing a hand on his chest.

"No, she doesn't need to know."

"What's wrong with you?" Anger overtakes my tone. He's acting like an asshole right now. "Do you realise what just happened JJ? Those guys had a gun."

"I know that Y/n." He clenches his jaw, walking back towards me. "but it doesn't involve you, so just go back to figure 8 cause last time I checked that's where you belong." He gets closer to my face and I feel my whole body stiffens at his cruel words. "Stop trying to be a pogue."

I tighten the muscles on my face, not wanting to let the tears leave my eyes but the unexpected anger overtakes my body and my hand moves across his face, slapping him hard. His face freezes, staying to the right. He has never spoken to me like that. He has never acted this way towards me and I hate it.

"Fuck you dude." I spit, shaking my head. I turn to John B. "Give me the keys." I don't care why they took them and I don't wanna know what happened anymore, I just wanna go home.

"Y/n.." He gives an apologetic look.

"Give. me. the. keys." My tone is sharp as I open my palm in front of him.

He lets out a sigh before dropping them in my palm. I put them in my pocket, not saying a word to him, and turn around.

"Y/n, let me come with you." Kie offers.

"I'd rather not." I say getting inside my car and slamming the door shut. I pull out without waiting for any of them to try and stop me and drive off, letting the tears finally fall. Tears of fear, tears of anger, and tears of hurt. He was right; I desperately wanted to be one of them my whole life but that wasn't the reason why I asked. I don't give a shit what they were doing and how they ended up in a situation like that, but it was serious. It wasn't fun and games, those guys weren't joking around and I care about them. All of them. If they're in trouble I want to help them as much as I can. My mom would understand them and she would do anything to help cause she's a pogue. But I'm not. I'm not and they'll never see me as one. They'll never trust me enough. He'll never let me get close. I know how it is and I thought that I had accepted it but clearly I was wrong cause it hurts.

. . . .

It's been 2 days and yet I'm still on edge. I still look over my shoulder every 5 seconds, and I still flinch over any slightly loud noise. I've been zoning out constantly, my mind travelling back to that day and his words. It still hurts, the way he talked to me but it was the reality check that I needed. Maybe it's time to actually stop and move on.

I wipe the last of the tables getting ready to close the cafe. The sun is setting and I can't wait to go home and relax after a long day. I move to the counter, grabbing my stuff and making sure everything is closed and in order when I hear the 'ding' the door makes when it opens.

"I'm sorry we're closed-" I turn around coming face to face with the 2 men that broke into John B's house.

Their faces hold the same smug expression, satisfied with the clear shock that overtakes my whole body. "We're not here for coffee." One of them says, his voice raspy and low.

My feet move backwards until my back hits the front of the counter. "I-I can't help you then." I shutter.

"Oh but you can," He smirks. "you can deliver a message to John B for us." I shake my head repeatedly, my chest heavy as I try to breathe. He grabs me by the arm, his fingertips digging painfully into my skin while the other finds my neck, choking me.

"And since words won't do it for them, maybe this will. "The other one says, nodding to his partner with a smirk. The guy releases me and before I have time to catch my breath, his hand slaps me across the face so hard that it sends me to the ground.

"Ugh." It takes me a few seconds for my sense to return, my head heavy with pain and my skin burning. He grabs me by the shirt, forcing me upwards only to bring his hand across my face again. I yell in pain, tears streaming down my face as the taste of blood fills my mouth. My eyes struggle to focus.

He stands straight, looking down at me. "P-Please stop." I beg but he stays unphased, kicking me right in the stomach. Pain spreads through my body, my knees coming to my chest as I cough violently. He kicks me again, and again, his boot finding my face at some point and I scream until there's no strength in me to make noise anymore. The tears won't stop and breathing gets harder by the second.

"Tell your friend that he better give us the compass or else he's next. "He pulls my head up by my hair causing me to whine in pain. He gives me one last evil smirk before slamming it back on the wooden floor and walking away without a second glance at my aching body, his partner following.

I sob violently at this point, trying to keep my head focused and my eyes open but they're getting heavier and heavier, the world starting to spin. I don't know how long I stayed on the floor in and out of consciousness but when I heard my name being yelled my eyes snapped open.

John B kneels by my side. "Oh my god Y/n, what happened?" He says, his voice full of panic. His hands' ghost over my body not knowing where to touch me as he scans the injuries.

I don't reply but a broken sob escapes me.

"It's okay, it's gonna be okay." He slides his hands carefully under my body, my face twitching with pain. He takes me in his arms and walks out of the cafe. "It's okay, you're safe, I got you." he murmurs against my head. He lays me down on the back seat of the twinkie before hopping in on the driver's seat. His hands move fast, his eyes wild, looking back at me every 2 seconds as he drives.

"What happened?" He whispers. "W-who did this?"

I keep my eyes close and try to control my breathing but the pain is too much. "T-those men" The words that leave my mouth are barely audible but he catches them.

His hands tighten around the wheel, before punching it. He looks back at me anger written all over his face, his eyes almost watering. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Y/n. It's all my fault."

"The compass.." I drag out, causing him to look back at me with wide eyes but everything fades again.

I feel his hands on me again. He takes me in his arms. "We're here." He whispers and I bury my face in his neck. I recognise his house immediately. He takes big steps almost running trying to hold me without causing me pain.

He reaches the house. "Guys!." he yells. "Help!"

"Oh my god, Y/n," Kie cries out rushing to us.

"What happened?" Pope tries to help John B carry me to the couch.

"Y/n." It's his voice that makes my eyes finally open and it's the look on his face when he sees me that hurts more that the pain in my body. A single sharp breath leaves his mouth before he's by my side as John B places me on the couch. I let out a small whine.

"What happened?" He whispers, dropping to his knees beside me. "What happened?!" He yells turning to John B who has his hands buried in his hair, pacing around the room. Kie appears back in the room with a first aid kit.

"Those men, the 2 men that broke in, jumped on her. " He answers.

"What?" Pope says. "Why would they do that to her? How do they even know her?"

"It's the boat, idiots." Kie angrily says passing some ice to JJ. "They saw us jumping inside it to escape them."

"Baby," JJ presses the ice to my cheek, with trembling hands. I can already feel different parts of my body brushing. His other hand comes to my head, brushing my hair back. "Baby, I'm sorry." He places his lips against my forehead. His lips tremble, and he shakes his head, eyes wide full of fear and anger. "You're gonna be okay, I'm here yeah? I'm not leaving you again." He whispers, his voice breaking.

Kie appears next to us. "Jay, let me take care of her." She touches his shoulder. "She needs help and rest."

JJ leaves one last kiss on the side of my face before getting up. "I'm gonna fucking kill them."I hear him growl before he and the boys move further into the house. Kie cleans up all my wounds and takes care of the cuts that I had on my face.

"Get some rest okay?" She smiles a sad smile at me.

"Thanks, Kie." I mumbled before drifting off.

. . . . . .

I shiver, the sudden cold air that hits my exposed skin forces my eyes open, waking me up from my slumber. The living room is dark, not a single person is here except me. I try to lift my body into a seating position, and a sharp but lighter pain spreads around my stomach and back causing me to whine.

I hear a groan from my left and I turn to find JJ's sleeping body laying on the floor. His closed eyes twitch before opening. It takes a few seconds for him to react but when he sees me awake his body shoots up, hands stretching towards my body.

"Y/n," He breathes. "hey."

I rub my eyes with the back of my hands. "What time is it?"

"Um," His hands fumble with his phone. "It's almost 3 am. You fell asleep"

"Hmm," I hum, lifting myself into a seating position. "My parents-"

"Kiara texted them from your phone that you're gonna stay at hers tonight." He says. "Take it easy." He touches my back softly. A sad expression overtakes his face when he sees me struggling to straighten my back.

"Y/n.." He shakes his head and I know exactly what he's going to say.

"It's okay, it's fine." I reassure him. JJ tends to hold a lot of guilt inside. He thinks that he's responsible for anything that happens. It seems like he holds the weight of the world on his shoulders when there's really no need.

"No, it's not." He shakes his hand repeatedly. "It's not. I can't stand seeing you hurt because of me. You did nothing wrong, it shouldn't have happened like this." His eyes drop to his hands that are resting on my thighs.

"It's not your fault." I place my hand on top of his.

"But it is. We stole your boat to escape, they saw that. And then I acted like a dick refusing to tell you anything in order to protect you and keep you out of it when in the end it's you who got hurt." His voice is filled with guilt and anger.

"Protect me from what?" I scoff. "What's going on Jay?"

His eyes soften at the nickname but he stays quiet.

"Why don't you trust me?" I mumble, mostly to myself.

"I do trust you." He defends.

"Just not enough right?" I smile a little.

He closes his eyes. "Y/n, you know it's not like that. You know me."

"Apparently I don't JJ." I raise my tone a little. "I mean I thought I did, I wanted to. I was patient and I was understanding. I listened to you and I was there. As much as you would let me at least." I go on, and all the words that I was holding inside come rushing out. "The JJ I know would not talk to me like that, the JJ I know would not disappear for days, the JJ I know would not keep secrets from me."

"Y/n-" He tries to interrupt me.

"No, I get it, I know my place. " I hold a hand up between us. "I know we're not together but I care JJ. " I admit looking at him dead in the eye. His face falls at my words, jaw tightening. "I liked it when you would climb through my window and we would talk for hours about all the things you guys had done that day and I liked it when I would sneak out after midnight and go on bike rides with you. I liked how we would surf together or how we would lay on my rooftop, looking at the stars talking about all the things we want in life. You were the one that was pushing me to join you in all kinds of things, you would always tell me that I was a pogue deep down." Tears threaten to spill but I try to contain them.

"You were the one that pushed me away," He point a finger towards me. "Since day one, since the first day we fucked, you never wanted me."

"JJ," I lift my hands to my hair, struggling to control my anger. "I was trying to protect myself!"

"For what?" He shoots back, his frustration building as well.

"From you!" His shoulders fall. "I wanted you, I've always wanted you but I know you." I sigh, studying his beautiful, blue eyes that are piercing mine. "I know better than to let myself fall and believe that this is more than it is." I say quietly.

He tilts his head, his eyes never leaving mine. "I tried to stay away from you because I couldn't stand to hold you and know that you aren't mine. Every time I would look at your face, I would see nothing but walls. We would have sex and then you would go back to being cold and wanting to be as far away from me as possible and I honestly get it, people like me don't deserve people like you."

I shake my head in disbelief. "How can you say that?"

"Cause it's true." He chuckles sadly. "Look at you and look at me." He motions between us.

"Stop." I close my eyes, unable to stand the way he views himself, I wish he could see how extraordinary he actually is.

"Y/n, I know." His gaze hardens. "But when John B walked through that door with you almost unconscious in his arms. Your body and face brushed and beaten," He twitches his face as if the image brushes through his mind and physically hurts him. "I lost it. My heart dropped. Nothing mattered but making sure that you were okay and holding you in my arms. The thought that something like that had happened to you," He shakes his head, reaching to take my jaw in his hands gently. "I can't fucking stand it. And I swear to you that I will search the whole island for these motherfuckers and I'll fucking kill them for laying a finger on you." He leans forward, his forehead inches away from mine.

A small smile creeps on my lips at his words, my heart warming instantly.

"I'm sorry about what I said the other day, all I wanted was to protect you and I'm sorry for disappearing on you. I'm sorry about all the lying and the secrets and I'm sorry I can't be what you need and deserve." His eyes move all over my face while his thumbs move gently over my cheekbones.

I bite my lip. "JJ, you're all I want. You're more than enough." I say with my whole heart, wanting nothing more than for him to see himself the way I do. "You're the most incredible person I know and it hurts me that don't see it."

"I don't deserve you." He whispers, his lips ghosting over mine. His breath becomes my breath.

"Shut up." I smile crushing my lips to his. It doesn't take more than a second for him to react, moving his mouth against mine, inhaling sharply as if I'm oxygen. I let out a low moan as JJ's lips started nibbling at mine, demanding entrance that I'm all too happy to grant. It's ridiculous how much I've missed him, the taste of his lips is enough to make all the pain disappear. Everything fades away as our tongues collide, teasing and testing each other. My hands travel to his hair, tugging lightly while he holds my waist carefully. I push myself forwards, sucking on his bottom lip before capturing it between my teeth. I can feel him holding back, he digs his fingers into my skin and releases a sharp breath.

"Y/n," He lets out a low groan, breaking the kiss.

My frustration builds more with each second passing, wanting nothing more than to feel his hands on me. I need to feel him. "What?" I breathe out.

"Maybe.." His eyes fall to my swollen lips, his mouth opening. "Maybe we should take it slow, considering what you went through the last few hours."

I shake my head. "No, I want you." I inch forward wanting to taste him again but he doesn't let me.

"Princess, trust me I want nothing more than to throw you on the couch and fuck you senseless while you scream my name for everyone to hear." He tilts his head downwards, his words making my insides hot and causing my thighs to clench together, hoping for some relief. His eyes big and wild, hungrily staring back at mine while I let my hands explore and touch his face, brushing his hair back and down his neck. My burning desire for his touch has overtaken me completely, my stomach tightens just at the thought of all of the things we could do but I know that he's right, my body still feels beaten and heavy.

"You need to rest for tonight." He takes my jaw between his fingers.

"Will you stay with me?" I'm scared that the minute we leave each other, things will go back to how they were, and what I realised after tonight and after what happened is that I don't wanna be without him anymore. I don't want to be scared anymore cause you never know what will happen.

His face breaks into a soft smile. "Lay down."

His arms felt familiar yet foreign. Like I missed the feeling of falling asleep buried in his chest, his scent filling my senses but different like something's changed.

The book that I'm reading has been getting less and less interesting with each minute passing. Maybe it's the fact that it's 10:00 pm and I'm laying in my bed, reading on Saturday night, or the fact that he hasn't called me or even texted the whole day. It's been a few days since the incident at the cafe. After we woke up that day JJ drove me back home and explained pretty much everything, about The Royal Merchant, the compass that they found, and how it lead them to the tape recorder that Big John left for his son. I still can't believe some of the things that happened to them and what they discovered. He made me promise that I won't tell a soul, something I would have done even if he hadn't asked. I haven't seen him since, mostly cause my parents have been babying me none stop. I told them what happened at the cafe, twisted around a little the actual truth, and claimed that the 2 men tried to rob the cafe but JJ and John B showed up. I haven't gone to school or done anything in general for the past few days. I've been laying low and have recovered completely but my mind has been stuck on what JJ told me. Through the days I found myself wondering what they were doing and wishing I was with them.

A knock on my widow breaks me out of my thoughts. JJ sends me a small wave. My head snaps to my door, checking if it's closed before running to open the window. He quickly pushes his tall body through the small opening, stumbling a little in the process.

"Hi" he breathes out, standing up straight.

"Hi," I giggle "what are you doing here?" I scan him with my eyes making sure that he's okay and also taking in the sight of him that I've missed so much.

"I wanted to check up on you." He says, running his hands through his hair.

My hands are itching, wanted to reach in and touch him but I don't know if that is too much. Honestly, I don't know where we stand, all I know is that I've missed him.

His eyes move around my face while he tugs his bottom lip between his teeth. My eyes catch the movement. "Come here." He mutters before reaching forward and wrapping his arms around my waist. I bury my face into the curve of his neck, my eyes closing at the feeling of his embrace.

"I missed you." He speaks so quietly that I almost didn't catch it.

I tighten my arms around his neck, silently responding. I missed him too.

"I was worried about you." I say, pulling away slightly.

"About me?" He lifts his brows playfully. "Come on have a little faith in my survival skills princess."

I slap his shoulder lightly, trying to hide my smile. "What happened? Is everyone okay?"

"Yeah, everyone's fine." He brushes me off. "I'll tell you everything but first.." He cups my jaw with his hands and presses his lips to mine. I let out a surprised sound that dies in my throat before moving my lips against his, responding. I feel him smile into the kiss and he opens his mouth slightly, allowing my tongue to slide inside. He hums as our tongues play with each other, letting his hands fall to my waist. He pulls my body closer to his, forcing me to my tiptoes while the kiss gets heavier. The sound of our lips and our heavy breathing fills the room.

"My parents will hear us." I breathe out.

"I don't care." He attacks my lips again, backing me slowly until the back of my knees hit my bed. He breaks the kiss and gives me a light push causing me to fall on the bed. He stares down at me with a smirk slowly dropping his hands to the bottom of his shirt and peeling it off his body. My eyes take him in, his chest and abs on full display. I bite my lip wanting nothing more than to reach out and touch him. He leans down, wrapping his hands around my neck, forcing my head upwards to look at him.

"Don't look at me like that." He drawls out.

I relax my face, staring at him through my lashes. "Like what?"

He pushes me down completely, my back flat against the bed while his legs are spread on each side of my hips.

He gives me a light slap on the cheek but it's enough to make my back arch and my thighs to clench together. "Don't test me, princess, 'cause I don't give a shit about your parents being just across the hall."

My hands find the bottom of my own shirt, pulling it over my head. "I don't give a shit either."

"Fuck." He dives right into my chest, his mouth nibbling and sucking on my exposed skin. My hands go to his hair instantly, guiding him to my breasts. He wastes no time, unclipping my bra and taking one of my nipples in his mouth.

"Mhh," I moan as he circles his tongue around the hardening nub. His hands hold my hips down when I try to find some relief by grinding my hips to his. His lips travel farther down teasingly, dragging his tongue over my stomach and stopping at the top of my pajama pants. His eyes shoot up, the light and hunger in them challenging me. His fingers toy with the fabric, pulling it down slowly, not breaking eye contact while I lift my hips, allowing him to fully take it off. He straightens up, his hands fumbling with his belt with his eyes glued to my panties. His breathing hardens when I open my thighs exposing myself to him.

"You have no idea how I missed you." He groans, pulling his pants down.

I blink at him with a small smile. "How much?"

His eyes darken, looking down at my figure hard. " Let me show you." He pulls me by the thighs to the edge of the bed and kneels down right in front of my core. I inhaled sharply as he wastes no time ripping my panties off of me. His eyes beamed with hunger, taking in the sight of me. He lowers himself just a little, his hot breath fanning my bare pussy causing shivers to spread through my body. He looks up, eyes narrowing playfully using the tip of his tongue to deliver a soft flick over my clit. My legs twitch slightly, which causes him to smile.

"Stay still princess." He pins my hips down again and drags his tongue over my slit. He groans against me, the vibration shooting through me while he wastes no time diving in and moving his tongue at a faster pace. Heat explodes through my veins, my toes curling at the feeling of his wet muscle absolutely devouring me with no hesitation. He sucks and nibbles, drawing and flickering against my sensitive nerves as I whimper shamelessly underneath him. My hand shoots to his hair, head falling back and my back arching when I feel not one but two fingers slotting into my entrance.

"Oh my god, Jay." I rasp out, my palm covering my mouth.

His fingers start moving violently fast inside me, filling the room with pornographic wet sounds as the heat on my lower stomach builds embarrassingly fast. "Fuck baby, you're so wet." He groans against me before moving his thumb to cover my clit, rubbing circles in a fast motion.

His mouth attaches to my neck, taking the soft skin between his lips. "I want you to come on my fingers baby can you do that for me?" He whispers in my ear.

My body lifts off the mattress, feeling myself climbing higher and higher. "I-I'm gonna-" The words die in my throat as a giant wave of unexpected pleasure crashes over me, my eyes roll all the way back to my head, my mind going completely numb as his fingers keep up the pace allowing me to ride it out.

"That's it, baby," He mumbles against my neck. I close my eyes, still feeling the tingling sensation lingering in my belly. He pulls his fingers out, the aftermath of my orgasm dripping to his palm. He wraps his swollen lips around them, testing me while piercing me with his blue eyes.

He moans lightly. "The taste of you is incredible."

"Can I have a taste?" I nod down to his visibly hard member, that's fighting against the fabric of his boxers as he straightens his back, towering over me. My mouth watering at the thought, hands inching to fill the weight of his throbbing cock against them.

A low chuckle escapes him. "I would die to feel those pretty lips around my dick," He takes my jaw between his fingers. "But there's something I want more right now." He captures his bottom lip between his teeth, reaching to pull his boxers down. His dick shoots up free hitting his stomach, my eyes flicker to the tip, red and swollen with drops of precum coating it already. He pulls the drawer of my nightstand open, grabs a condom from the ones that he left a few weeks back, and quickly rolls it over his dick. He takes both of my wrists in his hands before I have any time to touch him and slams me back down on the bed.

He pins my hands over my head. "Your hands stay there."

I nod, trying to stop the grin of excitement that's forming on my lips. The feeling of need and frustration that only he can make me feel and that I've missed so much overtakes me as he lines his dick in my entrance. His tip brushes over my clit, opening my folds before pushing in slowly. His forehead falls on mine and we both gasp as he fills me up entirely.

"Shit, princess." He hisses when I nod my head and give him the green light to move which he wastes no time doing. He pulls out all the way before slamming back in, filling me up again with such a powerful push that it causes me to gasp out loud. His hips find a rhythm in no time, attacking me with sharp, deep thrusts that make my breasts bounce almost painfully. His forceful movements draw all kinds of sounds out of me while everything begins to fade. My ears fill with the sound of my own heartbeat and his low moans and grunts as he pushes in and out of me, stretching me out with the size of his cock. I fight to keep my eyes open, only being able to focus on his beautiful face, that's overtaken by a mesmerizing fucked out expression. His eyebrows are drawn together, drops of sweat coating his forehead while his mouth hangs slightly open. He looks breathtaking as he fucks me senseless, reminding me with each thrust that in reality, he's all I want. His hands reach for the back of my right thigh, lifting it a little gaining access to a better angle that allows him to thrust deeper. My eyes roll back, unable to contain the pleasure that shoots from my core, my hands fly to his back, nails dining to the soft flesh, earning a deep grunt from him.

"You're doing so well baby, look at you taking my dick like a good girl." He grabs my neck with his free hands, his pace quickening making the knot in my stomach tighten. I dig my nails deeper, hands tugging his hair while both of our bodies dripping with sweat but I don't care about anything except my second orgasm that approaches.

"Are you gonna come for me again princess?" He teases me, feeling my walls tighten against him. "Tell me how good it feels, and maybe I'll let you come." He demands, tilting his head downwards and tightening his grip around my neck.

I can feel my wall throbbing, tightening painfully around his dick trying to keep him inside as heat begins to spread in my belly. "It feels so good Jay, so fucking good please baby don't stop." My dignity dissolves as tears start to form at the corners of my eyes.

"Tell me I'm the only one you want." His thrusts being to get sloppy, signalling that his own high is approaching. His eyes are wild, and everything starts to feel overwhelming.

"Y-you're the only one, I only want you." I confess, my tone desperate and begging.

He connects our foreheads again, hand dropping to my clit and with a single flick of his finger, I'm over the edge. My back arches, black spots fill my vision, and an almost euphoric feeling pulses through my veins. My brain and body are overtaken with pleasure and I keep my eyes shut as JJ's orgasm hits him just as hard.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." He buries his face in the curve of my neck, letting his low groans fill my ear. I let him ride it out, ignoring the over-sensitivity that I start to feel. His body freezes for a few seconds as he releases into the condom before collapsing on top of me. I feel his heart drumming in his chest while he tries to control his breathing. I'm still in a state of bliss, ears still ringing and heart still beating fast. We stay like this for a good minute, our sweaty bodies touching and our fast breathing filling the air until he decides to lift himself off me and fall to the side.

Silence overtakes us, letting everything that just happened sink in. He pops himself on his elbow, head resting on his hand as he looks down at me with soft eyes. His hair going in every possible direction, his lips swollen and his neck covered in marks I don't remember making.

I smile at the sight of him.

"What?" His breathing is still uneven.

"You're pretty." I think out loud.

His eyes shift, lips curving upwards. "I love you, Y/n."

The raw emotion is visible as he speaks the words, causing my heart to stop for a split second. The words I desperately wanted to hear and desperately wanted to say for so long. The skin of my cheeks tingled but I say nothing, still processing what he just said.

His face breaks into a smile, unphased by my silence. "Fuck, I wanted to say that for so long." He lets out a breath of relief, pushing his hair back.

I've dreamt about this moment, never actually believing that it'll happen, thinking that just a hookup was all that I would ever be for JJ.

I stare deep into his ocean eyes. "I love you too JJ." I speak the easiest truth I've ever had to say out loud.

His smile grows more, overtaking his whole face and causing his eyes to almost close. I reach over throwing a hand around his neck and kissing him like I've never had before. We both smile into the kiss and giggles fill the air.

"I'm in love with you." He says again, against my lips.

His phone interrupts our moment before I have the chance to say it back again.

He sighs, reaching towards the floor to retrieve it from the pocket of his pants.

"What?" He picks up, keeping his eyes on me. His face drops, eyebrows coming together. "Slow down, slow down." His gaze shifts and I lift myself to a seating position, quickly throwing my shirt on. "Okay, I'm coming got it." His body almost bounces as he paces back and forth, his free hand moving fanatically until he stops right in front of me, ending the call.

His eyes light up and a challenging smile tugs at his lips.

"What?" I ask, completely lost.

"Wanna join me on a treasure hunt princess?" He grins.

"What do you mean?" My face twitches with confusion.

"John B needs me, they found something." He begins to get dressed.

"And what? You want me to join you guys?" I can't help the excitement that spreads over my face. "What do you mean?"

"The guys are waiting for us at Kie's place." He stands up straight, all dressed and ready with his hands resting on his hips. "That's the reason I came here." He bites his bottom lip, trying to contain his smile. "To get you. They guys are okay with it, especially with everything happening with Sarah and John B. " He waves his hands around.

I frown." What's going on with Sara and John B?"

He shakes his head, reaching for my waist. "I'll explain on the way. Are you in or not?"

I look into his eyes, the deepest shade of blue I've ever seen. The eyes that I've fallen so hard for and I would do anything for. The eyes that are now silently inviting me, challenging me, and making my heart beat faster. All my life I wanted nothing more than to be like them, to feel what it's like to live life their way, and even though what happened was the scariest thing I've ever experienced I can't help but give him a small nod.

His teeth make an appearance before he takes my face in his hands, planting a kiss on my lips. "Get dressed then baby, the gold is waiting." He smirks.

I smile against his lips. I guess my mom was right; the choice is pretty easy if you follow your heart.

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