#*accidentally inhales sand*

[moongothic]

Crocodad AU where immidiately after having left Dragon and his baby boy Crocodile finds an 11 year old Robin. And while he's 100% only recruiting her so they can make a beeline for the Poneglyph and Pluton in Alabasta by the two of them... Crocodile accidentally sorta kinda adopts Robin.

At this point Robin's been running for her life from the Government for three years so her deep trust issues and fear of betrayal are starting to take root in her little heart. Like perhaps they haven't taken fully over yet, and being still a child I'm sure Robin might've still had that genuine hope that she could find a safe place to stay in. But I'm sure the though of "what'll he'll do with me once he gets what he wants?" would be nagging at her at the back of her mind. Meanwhile Crocodile's struggling between the pain and hurt he's already gone through and given him his trademark trust issues, as well as the aftermath of The Dragodile Divorce. But he also has his Fresh Paternal Instincts and probably misses his baby. So when given a small, scared child who is running for her life, being chased by the very same Government that'll want his son dead if they ever find out about him... Yeah that might fuck with your brain a little

You know this post was supposed to be just that first paragraph and just a few footnotes from the following two paragraphs. And then I kept on Having Thoughts. And I kept on writing them down. And oh no what happened when did this post get so long (Look I was going to either kept on writing my Additional Thoughts in the tags or I just put them in the actual fucking post)

Like considder this: based on this one SBS, we can kinda tell that if Crocodile was given a chance to raise a child, that child would be a spoiled little shit, right

So in this scenario, where Crocodile's looking after lil Robin, would he be kind of torn? Unsure how to feel about her?

Because on one hand, this strange child would have the potential to not only ruin his plans, strip him of his Shichibukai Privileges by outing him and his plans to the World Government, but also put his son in grave danger by extension (if she found out about him having been involved with the Revolutionaries and/or having a child). But on the other hand, his paternal instincts could make him want to spoil this poor little girl rotten. But only because he needs to (perhaps literally) buy her trust so she'll behave. No other reason, he doesn't feel sorry for her one bit, no sirree. (But maybe he did feel sorry for her, since his son could very well end up exactly like her. Poor little thing) (Which is why he needs to nuke Marijoa out of orbit as soon as possible, no matter the cost, and this child can't get in the way of Crocodile protecting his son) (But also this is a child. Like how bad could she be. Besides all he really needs to do to win her trust is be nice and make her feel safe, right?)

Of course, while I'm suggesting Crocodile could have some parental instincts, realistically, he hasn't actually spent any time being, you know, a father to a child (looking after his newborn for an unknown though short amount of time aside), so it's possible he wouldn't even know how to parent Robin even if he wanted to, would he? (Like taking care of a newborn and an 11 year old kid aren't the same either) So if he was kind of just emotionally flipflopping between No Trusting Ever and It's Just A Kid for God's Sake, Crocodile trying to be nice to Robin to make her feel safe and then telling himself to stop being so soft and vunerable... Yeah that would make for an absolute mess of a relationship. (Not to mention, let's be real, dude's a scary motherfucker too, and a bloody giant compared to itty bitty baby Robin. He could keep on accidentally scaring the shit out of Robin (who would be On Fucking Edge To Begin With) by just Being Himself. Like for example, can you fucking imagine if he caught Robin trying to cheer herself up with a little "dereshishishi" only to tell her to stop because "it was stupid"? 'Cause I can imagine him doing that, and boy howdy would that make Robin feel bad)

Or who knows, maybe Crocodile was just Born To Be A Dad, maybe he just Fucking Gets It. Like Crocodile is canonically pretty good at manipulating people to do what he wants them to do (see: how he played Vivi like a fiddle), so knowing Robin's position and understanding how she feels, maybe he COULD completely nail how she needed to be treated. Not being too familiar but still making her feel safe and happy, knowing exactly when to be stern and when to spoil her, etc. Dude just goes off and wins the Dad of the Year Award while being a deadbeat dad himself. The only thing Crocodile would have to worry about then would be making sure HE doesn't get too fond of her. And certainly that could never happen, he's so in-touch with his own feelings and so grounded, he's not a softie, get outta here. Or maybe he does but never realizes until it's too late and good luck backpedalling on those emotions now dumbass

Alright so, the reason I went on that whole rmble is just that like. I'm so interested in the relationship Robin and Crocodile already have in canon. I'm so facinated and curious about how the two feel about each other, considdering they did spend 4 whole years of their lives together as criminal business partners, though neither ever trusted the other. A partnership that was only ended because Robin betrayed Crocodile, out of her own trauma. (God, I want to see these two "reunite" so bad, I want to know how they feel about each other now after the timeskip and Robin joining the idiot in flipflops who foiled Croc's plans)

My question here is just that... if they had met 13 years earlier, would things have been different? Especially if Crocodad Real? Because as I mentioned in the begining, Robin would've been on the run for only 3 years by this point, as opposed to 16 years before running into Crocodile. Simultaneously, this would be before Crocodile went onto spend an entire decade all alone, slowly losing his marbles in his emotional solitude. They'd both be emotionally traumatized, yes, but would it have been as bad in this scenario? Like I did start this post kind of joking about Crocodile adopting Robin, and for clarity's sake I don't think they'd have like a father-daughter relationship nececarily. But it would be a strange relationship still, because we'd have two broken people, both struggling to trust anyone. One who had lost her mother and her only friends, leaving her all alone and afraid while running for her life. The other a father who had just given up his son whom he probably missed dearly. Both having these holes in their hearts from loss of family, holes that could not be filled with replacements. But could they find comfort in each other anyway, because they still as people occupy similar roles to their respective loved ones? If they both could just get over those trust issues?

Okay I've been going off on the Emotional Side Of Things for this AU Concept, THERE'S PLOT TOO

So if Crocodile did pick Robin up like 19 years ago, that should be before he set up base in Alabasta, long before he had built is homebase and financial empire etc.

Now the thing is, while we don't know when, where and how Crocodile learned about the Ancient Weapons, Pluton specifically and how the lead on it would be in Alabasta... Considdering Crocodile did once upon a time aim to become Pirate King, it would make perfect sense if he had learned about Poneglyphs during his past adventures, as he would have needed to get the Road Poneglyphs to find One Piece. And while the World Government did bury the truth about why Ohara had been burned down and why Robin had been given her bounty (remember, the WG claimed it was because she had sunken a fleet of battleships, which she had not, it was because she could read the Poneglyphs), considdering this is a Crocodad AU specifically, you could totally make an argument Crocodile could've learned about what actually happened to Ohara from Dragon and co. So, just to make this AU work, you could just assume Crocodile learned about the concept of the Ancient Weapons from Dragon. And who knows, maybe he overheard the truth about why Robin had been given her bounty from Dragon too (maybe Dragon was able to get intel from Garp in secret) or while going to Marijoa himself to attend a Shichibukai meeting or something IDK.

Maybe he learned about Pluton being in Alabasta before finding Robin by accident, and maybe they made a beeline for Alabasta the second Croc recruited Robin. Travelling takes time and the guy would've most likely had to find an Eternal Pose to Alabasta just to get there (also canonically Robin didn't enter the Grand Line until her 20s so they should've met in West Blue probably, since that's where Ohara was) Or maybe Crocodile had to haul Robin around for a few months while looking for That Missing Piece of Information that would lead him to Alabasta. (Imagine the two travelling from like island to island, library to library, Crocodile trying to find that leads while Robin's just so excited about ALL THESE BOOKS (she's helping too with the research) (but to her, research is playtime, so she's just having the time of her life) (Also, notice how Crocodile's Theoretical Child is a fucking loser ass nerd? Yeah Crocodile would encourage Robin reading and studying, surely. And that would be fucking cute))

But like, once they set sail to Alabasta...

Sure, Crocodile could try to do it The Slow Way that we know he tried in canon, building trust and creating his little empire etc. But also, in canon, Crocodile couldn't have jumped into action head first because without Robin, even if he had found the Poneglyph he couldn't have read it and found the location of Pluton. Crocodile choosing to do it the slow way may have been partially because he didn't have much of a choise and it could've felt like the smarter move long-term.

But in this scenario, he already has Robin. Yes, he could do it the slow, secure way.

But what'd be there stopping him from infiltrating Cobra's palace and kidnapping him (in the night, when nobody suspects a thing), demanding Cobra to spill the beans lest Crocodile kills him and/or his pregnant wife* (*Vivi was born 10 months after Luffy so depending on how long it's been between Crocodad leaving Luffy behind and this scenario... Yeah either the wife is there, still pregnant, or there's a newborn Baby Vivi)

Like it'd be a risky move but depending on how ballsy Croc's feeling and how confident he feels in being able to kidnap the king without being noticed... Yeah he could probably do it. And I'm sure he'd have no problem killing Cobra either, if anything it'd be required if he didn't want the Government to find out he was out to find Pluton, and god knows Cobra would tell on Crocodile if left alive. I could see Crocodad being maybe a little iffy about killing Baby Vivi though (it's not like the newborn baby could report him to the WG anyways), but if nothing else, he just needs to be able to pull off the bluff of his life to convince Cobra to do as he's told. And we all know Crocodile's good at convincing people.

The only question is, how would Robin take that?

Watching Crocodile go into Full Murder Mode, hearing him say he'd kill a pregnant woman/a newborn baby if he didn't get what he wanted? Like yeah, I'm sure 11 year old Robin would be fine with that, that wouldn't make any alarm bells go off in her head at all, it'd be fiiiine. IT WOULD NOT BE FINE, SHE'D BE SCARED SHITLESS. That fear of "what will he do with me when he gets what he wants"? Well, Robin may not have found the answer to that question in particular, but she certainly found the answer to the opposite question, and it's not good

So say Cobra, kidnapped (perhaps with Baby Vivi) by Crocodile in the night, guides the two to the Poneglyph under the tombs. Crocodile puts Cobra out of his misery because he's not needed anymore. And he asks Robin to read the Poneglyph for him.

Robin, who has spent the last little while, be it weeks or months with Crocodile, him having become her "guardian", the thing keeping her safe. Crocodile, who has now shown how cold blooded and cruel he can be. Robin, who might be scared out of her mind. Of him.

And the Poneglyph says Pluton, the thing Crocodile wants, isn't there. It's in Wano.

What's she going to do?

EDIT: I wrote a sequel post, enjoy

#Moon posting #OP Meta #Sir Crocodile #Crocodad #Nico Robin #THIS POST WAS AN ACCIDENT. I DON'T KNOW HOW THIS HAPPENED. WHY DID I WRITE THIS. WHAT DEMON POSSESSED ME #I'm sure someone's written this already right #Right #Surely this fanfic already exists #Please tell me it exists #I dunno what to tell you I am not immune to a Juicy AU #Anyway on a more wholesome side of things: Robin accidentally calling Crocodile ''dad'' and he just inhales and swallows his whole cigar #Nearly chockes to death. Gets burns on his throat. #Robin feeling less alienated because of her DF ability because Croc has seen weirder AND is made of sand himself #If anything if they're literally by themselves then Robin being able to literally lend a hand to Croc at any time could be extremely useful #Like. In regular life situations. 'Cause Croc only has one hand. And Robin as many as she wants. Perfect duo. #(Also if they were travelling on like a small ship then it'd probably be built for a Tall Motherfucker like Croc right) #(Robin's ability would just make the ship more accessible to her and Croc would find that independence good) #Robin still gets a codename because Croc can't have anyone realize who she is. Maybe she even wears like a mask or summin' in public #If Crocodile's openly trans and the news of him transitioning recently broke out. Like. No avoiding that convo eh #Baby Robin's like ''...I read in a book once that some reptiles can change sex but I didn't know crocodiles could do it too'' #''💦.../Humans/ can't do that normally either'' #''Hmmmm. Weird. I don't think being a girl would suit you though'' // ''...I'll take that as a compliment'' #I just. I think they could have really cute interactions if they warmed up to each other after a little while #And I'm Extremely Normal about that

[carrotblr]

here's five dollar go buy yourself a gun dam

man.... fr tho how am i supposed to write today.... the brainrot is real....

#also i do like to fantasize building my own gunpla but realistically i think im actually too lazy to put everything together myself #sanding down plastic bits and accidentally inhaling the dust #promptly killing myself

[qiwoomi]

officially yours (his)

gojo satoru x fem! reader

fluff, established relationship, marriage, modern au, slightly suggestive in the end

a/n: idk how long it's been, almost about a year but I'm back again. this time school isn't an obstacle anymore :] wrote this while seasons - wave to earth is playing in the background

If years ago you're telling the Gojo Satoru you would marry him, he would tell you it would be a dream out of reach. Because back then, he's not confident in himself to make someone as beautiful- inside and out as you happy. It might be because of his rough past, and he didn't want to risk you going through it as he doesn't want you to get hurt.

You are too delicate, too fragile that he's sure that he doesn't deserve you. Hell, he would even risk letting someone else have you if it meant you don't have to go through a single trouble that he always endures. Though he's used to it by now, but you don't.

So how is it possible that here he is, standing on the shoreline of the vast ocean of your dreams, his shoes a little drenched and stained with sand. But never mind all that. His eyes are on you, teary and red though it won't fall. His lips are trembling, he wants to say something, but he knew that he would be sobbing and he promised himself that he won't ruin the ceremony that unite both of you in sickness and health.

There you are in your white wedding dress, your dream wedding dress, as you held the bouquet of flowers in your hand, keeping up a smile even though you're also on the verge of tears. Your eyes are blurry, but your father guided you to him, letting go of you as you're now standing in front of each other.

You allowed yourself to sniffle. Geto then starts doing the speech and declaration to officiate both of you in your wedding day, Satoru's eyes never fell from yours.

It's time to declare each other's wedding vows, which you anticipate. Satoru fixed his bow tie nervously, as you smiled.

"[Name], my love, my heart, my life, my everything." He starts, and his voice already cracked which earned a few laughs from your families and friends. He was full on sniffling, nose red as the first drop of tears stained his cheek. "First of all, I want to thank you a lot for everything you've done for me. Taking care of me even when I'm whiny and clingy, even though I stained your shirt with my snot as you patted me to sleep. Always being there to comfort me because you know that I'm not fine, even though I insist I am. You always knew before me, and this is one of the reasons why I fall in love with you." He manage to make through the first paragraphs, as onslaught of tears stained his cheeks again.

"Oh my god, I'm crying." He accidentally slipped into the mic, as chuckles are heard again. He's trying to wipe them off with his sleeves now. "Does anyone have a tissue?" He sniffled, as Geto handed him a q-tip. He tried wiping his tears with them, as it didn't do as much. "What does a q-tip gonna do? I need a tissue." He sniffled again, only realising the tissue in his breast pocket when you pointed them out.

"Ah, thank god." He sniffled, as he tried to compose himself while wiping his tears. Now the audiences were laughing, which makes you laugh too even though you're also about to drown in tears. "Okay." He cleared his throat, lifting up the paper in his view which is stained by droplets of tears.

"I'm sure that even if I continue listing them down, words wouldn't be enough to express my love to you- because it runs deep. And it is dangerous, at least this is what I thought when I was so young and naive, still learning what real love means." He sniffled. "But I got addicted to it, you're too addictive that I'm sure the thought of you will never go away. Everyday I wake up, I'm thankful that I even get the chance to be with you. And I try to make it last, even though temporary, these fleeting moments is my motivator."

He inhaled, before reading the next last paragraph. "My love, I want you to know that this has been my dream for the longest time. And to see and experience myself to be officially yours is a dream come true. I'm yours, always yours from the start and eternally. I promise myself from the start, and I want you to know that I'll always be with you no matter in sickness or in health, in the hardest days of your life or the easiest. I love you wholeheartedly in all versions of yourself. My heart, I have devoted myself to you, and should you think that I'm not, I'll always remind you through my actions. I love you, my [Name], my wife now and forever."

Gojo Satoru managed to finish, his tears are now at bay only for it to stream continously again when it's your turn to recite your wedding vows. It is safe to say that Gojo Satoru cried more than you, and he took 1 to 2 business days to process your marriage before finally going back to his 'normal' safe. And you love him all the same.

bonus:

It was late on your wedding night, after making love with him. You laid on his chest, catching your breath as he caressed your hair, his eyes on the ceiling as if lost in thought. It was quiet, but you love it.

"My love?" He starts, his eyes now on you, admiring your features. His hand on your hair is so comforting, that it took you a second to answer him. "Mhm? What is it baby?" You asked, looking up at him with sincereness and love in your eyes.

He pouted, frowning a little. Whatever it is that's weighing on his mind, you want to make it go away. "I'm sorry for ruining our wedding. I just can't hold it- you know. I never thought we would go this far." He mumbled, as you now start cupping his face, making him look into your eyes.

"Hey, it's fine. You know, I love that you're not afraid to show your true self. I love you. You make the wedding more memorable." I reassured him, speaking softly that he might even fall asleep to my voice.

Satoru didn't answer, though it's evident he's happy to know your thoughts now that his frowns and pout go away. "I love you too. You know, we're not even done for the night." He teased, now going back to his 'normal' self.

You slapped his chest playfully, though there's no denying it when your cheeks are flushed.

a/n: this is inspired from one of the videos I came across on ig (iykyk) I wish I copied the link but I lost it ☹️ the video literally screams satoru and you can't fight me.

EDIT: HERE'S THE LINK GUYS!!!

© @qiwoomi

est. 250324

do not copy, translate or repost my work.

#gojo satoru #gojo fluff #gojo x reader #jjk gojo #gojo angst #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk fluff #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x female reader #gojo x female reader #jjk x fem!reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n

[winchester-books]

Adrenaline Rush

BASED ON - obx

CHARACTERS - jj x reader

WARNINGS - lang, cannon lvl violence

SUMMARY - a fight breaks out on the beach and y/n accidentally winds up in the middle and comes out with a dislocated shoulder. jj (reluctantly) is the one who has to help.

“John B- please,” you hurried after your brother as he stormed across the beach, indifferent to the groups of people he was breaking up in the process, “It’s not that big of a deal, alright? I’m fine-”

His face was scarlet as he turned on his heel to face you, “Not that big of a deal?” He scoffed, running a hand down his face, “You’re funny if you think I’m gonna let Kelce say that shit about you and not go kick his ass,”

“It’s not worth it-” You groaned as he turned, ignoring you as he resumed his trek towards unsuspecting Kook who was deep in conversation with some girl. “Dammit John B, please!” But your words were useless and your brother was furious.

“Kelce!” John B snapped, tugging him by the shoulder so the boy would face him, “So you've been spreading rumors about my sister, huh?” He barely finished his sentence before laying one into Kelce’s cheek and sending him stumbling back.

You winced, just waiting for shit to hit the fan as the rest of the beach registered the fight that was about to start.

John B was reeling back, aiming another punch toward Kelce, but before he could, Topper was in front of him, yelling in his face and shoving him back. Rafe quickly appeared- never one to miss out on a fight. And JJ and Pope were not far behind.

Rafe swung first- and hard. John B hit the sand and JJ lunged at his best friend's attacker, slamming Rafe into the ground. Pope went after Topper as John B struggled to pick himself up before going for Kelce once again.

You watched in horror, the forming crowd goading the boys on as the fight got bloodier by the minute.

“Alright, that's enough, stop it!” Kie screamed, but unsurprisingly her demands meant nothing.

“John B, that’s enough!” you joined in, wanting to end this before someone really got hurt or the cops got called, “JJ!” You stepped closer, trying to grab JJ by the arm and pull him away from Rafe.

Big mistake.

Rafe had managed to gain the upper hand, shouldering JJ and sending him flying backward into the sand, taking you down with him in the process.

You groaned as JJ landed directly on top of you, crushing your shoulder.

“Y/N!” John B and Pope stopped fighting at the sound of Kie screaming your name.

Even Rafe and Topper paused as the crowd gasped and JJ rolled off of you, "Shit... " JJ breathed, hair falling in his face as he looked down at you, "Y/N, I'm so sorry, are you alright?"

Kie and Sarah managed to disperse most of the crowd- even her kook brother and his best friends. You were positive Sarah threatened something along the lines of telling Ward about Rafe's behavior.

You winced, inhaling sharply when you sat up at the throbbing pain in your shoulder. One glance at it had your stomach rolling when you realized it was most definitely not okay.

"It looks like its dislocated-"

"Yeah, no shit, Pope," you grimaced the intense pain making your temper short, "Someone's gotta pop it back in place,"

"Y/N" Kie shook her head, brows furrowing, "I don't think that's a good idea, we should take you to a hospital. Have a professional do it,"

"John B and I have had enough run-ins with DCF for a lifetime since Big John disappeared. I don't exactly think a hospital trip is gonna go well for me," you deadpanned.

"Oh God, I can't watch this," Sarah looked pale, "John B, come on. Let's go get you some ice for your face," Sarah grabbed his hand and pulled him along.

"You gonna be okay?" John B winced slightly as he spoke, head clearly pounding just from the looks of it.

You nodded.

"Yeah, I'm out," Pope agreed, following close behind. Kie nodded, also looking a little ghastly at the sight of your shoulder.

"JJ," you groaned, "Grab my elbow please,"

"Woah- woah," JJ's eyes widened and he shook his head, "No way- I don't know how to do that-"

"You're the reason it's popped out, so grab my freaking shoulder and help me fix it," you snapped.

"Y/N, seriously, I can't-"

"JJ, don't be a bitch, just shut up and help,"

You yelped when one of his hands grabbed your elbow and the other was placed on your back.

"Ah, sorry, sorry!" JJ grimaced at your sound of pain but you only shook your head.

"It's fine," you breathed, "Let's just get this over with, please. Alright, on the count of three,"

He cut you off before you could even start counting, "Y/N I really don't think I can do this... I mean there has got to be someone who is more qualified-,"

"JJ! PLEASE," you seethed, "I get you don't want to, but I'm kind of in excruciating pain right now,"

He swallowed, "Okay, okay. I can do this," he spoke under his breath, talking himself up as you started counting.

"One..." You closed your eyes, taking a shaky breath and closing your eyes as you braced yourself, "Two... Thr-"

"No-no, no, no... I'm sorry I can't-"

"JJ!"

"It's just your arm is like hanging all weird right now, and it's just psyching me out- like really I'm kinda freaking out over here," he babbled, clearly panicking, "And I'm trying I really am but I just can't even look at it right now- sorry I'm sure it's hurting and I'm trying but like, god I'm scared. I don't know I need like some kind of adrenaline rush or something,"

Suddenly he slapped himself across the face, "Shit, that didn't work,"

"My God, Maybank, your a wreck," you rolled your eyes, grabbing his shirt collar with you good hand and pulling his lips into yours.

His eyes widened in shock, seemingly forgetting he was still holding your bad arm because he shifted, setting it back into place with a loud pop that had you pulling away with a pained groan.

You let yourself fall back into the sand, breathing heavily as the pain slowly subsided.

"Oh god," JJ finally found his words again, "I'm so sorry- are you okay??"

"Never better," you heaved, "Thank you,"

He helped you sit up slowly, careful not to get anywhere near your shoulder, "You sure you're alright?"

You nodded, "Yeah, it feels a lot better now,"

He grinned, "You know, that adrenaline really did the trick... I think I could use some more-"

You smacked his shoulder, "Yeah, nice try Maybank."

#obx netflix #jj x reader #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank #outer banks netflix #outer banks imagines #outerbanks

[asterias-record-shop]

new and improved bingo request! fantasy au between finnick and mermaid!reader please!! i feel like it would just make so much sense that finnick would love swimming so maybe he has a routine where he goes every morning and eventually has suspicions that something is in the water with him. so one day he’s sitting at the dock and the mermaid makes herself seen with some cheeky little comment about him almost being as good a swimmer as her!! their relationship blossoms as they learn more about each other’s worlds through daily meet ups and maybe one day they meet in mermaid’s cove during a full moon where she gets her legs and maybe she asks finnick for a lesson in something a bit more advanced (-; LOL but i was thinking quote #1 from mermaid “i’ve never wanted anyone to fuck me this bad” and then maybe quote #14 from finnick (darling just gives me FINNICK). so sorry this was so long, i was in a daydream coming up w this. once again i appreciate your work so much! 🧚‍♀️

—𓆩[full moon cove]𓆪—

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[updated bingo card!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪

𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - Prince! Finnick Odair x Mermaid Princess! Fem! Reader

𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - fluff, smut

𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 4.5K

𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - Finnick always loved the water. It was his only escape from the life of the Crown Prince who just took over the Kingdom of Panem after the death of the previous ruler, Snow. The cove he went to was different, though, and it always felt like someone was watching him. He certainly didn’t expect it to be true, much less from a beautiful woman like you.

𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - my prince Finnick dream is coming to life || foul language and cursing || inaccurate portrayal of princes- || totally little mermaid inspired kinda || accidental harm || stabbing || you have blue eyes for a little bit, like they flash || time skip || basically virginity loss || nipple stimulation || raw sex || unprotected sex || breeding kink || begging || praise ||

From where Finnick was sitting, he knew damn well that someone was watching him. He could feel it, his skin crawling as he slowly spun around in a circle, trying to wait until one of the bigger fishes flew forward, kicking his feet to stay above the water.

He really did like this, being able to be in the water - his favorite place - even if he was sure someone was watching him. When he saw a certain shine though, one he was sure was scales, he threw down his trident and watched the crimson blood fill the water. Finnick was thankful that he was in the actual ocean and not the cove he dearly loved because he was sure that the blood would never come out of those pretty waters.

He let out a whoop of happiness before something went around his ankle, gasping before he was pulled underwater, quickly closing his mouth before something wet landed on his lips, a choked noise making him gag all over again as water filled his mouth before he was able to spit it out. It makes him pause when he is able to inhale something like air, gasping as bright blue eyes meet his own before going back to a different color.

What the actual fuck?

He stared at your hands begin to move, more confused when you let out a noise somewhat like a groan, bubbles coming from your mouth before they slow, your eyes fluttering closed. Finnick gasped, hand flying to his mouth as he was still unable to comprehend the fact that he was fucking breathing on the water.

He stopped though when he stared at your face, watching as the crimson liquid that began to float into a messy cloud of red came from you - your tail.

For fucks sake.

He grabbed his trident before it could float too low, his other arm grabbing you as he slipped it into the waistband of his pants. It didn’t take him long to get you out of the water, easily laying you out on the sand. His eyes scanned your form, swallowing loudly as his hands ghost your figure, a hiss coming from your mouth making him gasp.

“Don’t be a pervert!”

“I-I’m not!”

He was so being a pervert.

Respectfully, how could he not? You were beautiful, your skin slowly dissipating into beautiful scales of purple and gold starting from your sides and your breasts were covered with a thin string beaded with shells and sea glass. Your hair formed wisps around your face like a halo, bright eyes with flecks of blue darting around until they met his face.

“Yes you are.”

“Y-You’re just…” he stuttered, unable to control his tongue as he inhaled deeply. “You’re a mermaid. Y-You’re beautiful.”

You don’t say anything as his eyes continue to scan your body, memorizing every curve of your body that he desperately wanted to hold. He had heard stories about the mermaids and their charms, but no, this was different. You were absolutely stunning in every way — your slightly-webbed fingers were adorned with gold and pearls, shells and gems threaded through strands of your hair, pearls braided into a crown — for fucks sake, he had never seen anyone as pretty as you.

When your wet hang swatted at his face though, a loud slap that didn’t hurt though the noise echoed all around the beach making his face stay to the side in shock. “Does your kind know that it’s rude to stare?” Your voice wasn’t like one he had ever heard, slightly accented and echoey, perfectly showing your mermaid enchantments.

“Y-Yes, but-”

You scoffed. “But what? You would be rude and stare after stabbing me?”

“You’re too beautiful not to stare.”

He watched your mouth zip closed, your eyes narrowing slightly. “You’re lucky I like you.”

“Why do you like me?” He forgot he stabbed you until he saw the blood stained sand, gasping. “Fuck! What do I do, what do I do?!”

“Oh, calm down!” You say, giggling as he frantically started looking around. “Just… get me back to the water.”

“Fuck, do I clean it? Should I put like… seaweed on it?”

You pause, then nod. “Get that one, the purple one over there. Hurry.”

Finnick nodded quickly, rushing to stand and grab the seaweed before running back. He tore some off and started rubbing the blood away, then wrapped the rest around it and stood up. “Ready?”

“For what- oh my!” You yelled out in surprise when he picked you up easily, holding you tightly against his own body and walking toward the trees. “Wh-Where are we going?”

“I’m taking you to the water.”

“I meant the sea-”

“As long as it’s water, right?” He sends you a wolfish grin, quickly finding the end of the trees and staring at the cove. He paused when he saw your eyes flash a pale cerulean, flickering from the cove to the sea as your webbed fingers shake against his shoulders. “I won’t hurt you,” he whispers, nodding. “I promise.”

“Well, you already broke it,” you say as he slowly puts you into the water, watching a small cloud of crimson hover to the top before slowly dissipating. “My mother always told me stories about this cove.”

“One, it was an accident,” he says, slowly sitting in the water as you move your arms to push yourself to the center, giggling as you spin in the water. “Two, I thought you were a fish. Like, a real fish.”

“Well I was coming to give you a fish. A big one. A nice one that could feed you for days.”

He scoffed with a smile, shaking his head. It was truly kind of you to say that, to think that, but he would probably give it to some kids he’d see on the way into the kingdom.

“What’s so funny?” You turn to stare at him, raising a brow.

“As much as I appreciate the thought, darling, I don’t need that fish as much as other people do.” He slowly stepped into the water, smiling as you narrowed your eyes slightly but didn't go to move.

“My name is not darling.”

“Oh? Well then what is it?” He kicked his feet to stay above the water, your tail moving slightly as you looked him up and down.

“It’s Y/N. Princess Y/N.”

He smiled, licking his lips to try and hide it. “Oh yeah? Well I’m Finnick.” He purposely leaves out the fact that he was a prince.

“That’s an odd name,” you say, but smile. “I like it.”

He smiled, slowly swimming closer before you moved away, pausing his movements as you licked your lips. “So, what’s so special about this cove, hm?”

“My mother has told me stories. There is a very dangerous underwater mountain range between the sea and this cove, but it has magical properties underneath the full moon. It is a place where people come to make sure that their bonds stick.”

Finnick paused, tilting his head to the side in confusion. “What does that mean?”

You pause, shaking your head. “Humans do not need to know of our rituals. Besides, what are your rituals?”

Slowly, you swam around him, Finnick following your form. “My rituals?”

“Human rituals, I mean.” You correct, the seaglass threaded through your hair reflecting light onto your pretty face. “Like, for mating.”

“F-For mating?!” Damn were you forward.

“Well, I’ve heard that you people put rings on each other's hands? Why do you do that?” You tilted your head, humming. “Partners in my world marry when they turn into humans, then they proceed to mate to have children afterwards.”

“After what?”

“After their marriage ceremony!” You explain, smiling. “I am extremely excited to have my marriage ceremony.”

Finnick could feel his heart sink. “Y-You’re betrothed?”

“Not yet,” you respond, pausing. “I have not found the right suitor yet. And yourself? Are you betrothed?”

Finnick snorted. “Everyone wants me to be.”

You hummed softly, slowly swimming forward. “Why?”

“I am…” his voice turns into a whisper as you grab his hand, smiling. “What?”

“Yours are not like mine,” you respond, giggling. “I like them.”

“My hands?”

“Yes, I like them,” you giggled, gasping when a loud sound rung through out the forest, one you did not know was a bell. “Oh. Oh, what is that?!”

“It’s a bell,” Finnick sighed, looking down at where you held his wrist. “I need to go, but I will be back soon. I promise.”

“Where are you going?” You held his wrist tighter, trying to get him to stay as he adjusted his necklace, one given to him by Mags to protect him from mermaids like you. It didn’t work, and to be honest, he was glad it didn’t. “No! No, you need to stay, you brought me here, you need to stay with me!”

He could feel his mind blurring as he stood, eyesight fading in and out before you gasped.

“Oh my- I-I’m so sorry!”

It went away as soon as you said it, his eyes quickly meeting yours. “Was that- was that your magic?”

“Y-Yes, but I didn’t mean to! I didn’t, I’m so sorry-”

“It’s fine,” Finnick said, holding the necklace in his hand as he inhaled deeply. “It’s completely fine.”

It wasn’t completely fine, but the way you reacted let him know it truly was an accident. He watched as you slowly swam over, offering your hand out to him as he kneeled down and took it, pressing a soft kiss to your webbed fingers as you rubbed your nose against his.

Your skin was cold and wet, but he liked it when the scales against your wrist rubbed against his skin as you rubbed your face against his. He could feel his stomach twisting, his heart beating faster as soft coos and trills came from your mouth. “Please Finnick… please do not leave me.”

“I promise you Y/N, I’ll be right back, I swear on it.”

You inhale deeply, nodding as you let go of his hand. “Please don’t be long.”

“I won’t.” And with that, Finnick ran off, determined to have a one sided verbal conversation with Mags on why the fuck he was already head over heels for a mermaid he’d only met once — even if he had to do something first.

“I present Prince Finnick of Panem,” Everyone bowed as soon as the doors opened, Finnick inhaling deeply as Peeta smiled back at him, Caesar grinning from the door. “To his coronation.”

He stared up at Mags who stood on the platform where kings before him had gotten married and where he was supposed to too, but what if he wanted to get married in the sea? To you? 

He had just met you and he was already planning your wedding, a smile on his face as he walked down the aisle. Would you be able to walk down the aisle? You said that you could shift, right? He had heard stories that mermaids could change-

“Finnick!”

He paused, gasping when he saw Mags’ short stature standing right in front of him, literally a centimeter away from him. She makes a face, lips firmly pressed together as she tilted her head up at him, obviously aware he was distracted.

He grinned sheepishly as he slowly stepped back, inhaling deeply as the music started to play, Mags taking her crown from her head and setting it onto a pillow offered by another person. Finnick swallowed as the music stopped, signaling the end of Mags’ temporary reign, and another crown quickly being brought out.

It was a new one, as Finnick never wanted to wear the crown Snow did, so he ordered the making of a new one. He smiled when he saw the pearls and diamonds, both of them reminding him of what was in your hair early on. He was already thinking of the crown he would have made for you, pearls and sea glass with diamonds to match his own.

You would look beautiful sitting next to him on a throne, or in his lap. He liked the lap scene better, though.

Mags slapped his forehead making him gasp, the older woman raising a brow down at him as he gave another sheepish smile. When the music started again, Finnick slowly kneeled down, inhaling deeply.

This was it — he would be king in a matter of seconds, and right when the crown was set on his head, everyone cheered.

The new King of Panem was finally crowned, and he was soon to be betrothed too, but to someone no one would expect.

It had been a few months since Finnick brought you to the cove, but you always disappeared one night a month. It made him upset, the fact he wasn’t able to see you.

“Are you going to be here tonight?” Finnick whispered as he brushed his fingers down your bicep, your tail now healed and still in the water as your torso laid in his lap.

“Most likely not,” you whisper, Finnick wincing.

“Why not? The cove is beautiful under a full moon.” He says making you giggle.

“I’m aware. Our kind comes here for-” you pause, shaking your head. “Nevermind.”

“No, you have to say it now.” Finnick sits up, looking down at you as you shrug slightly. “Y/N.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Y/N.”

“My mother used to say that all of the greatest rulers came here to secure their bond before marriage,” you whisper, your scaled hand pushing into his as your fingers thread through his own. “I hope to do the same.”

Finnick smiled down at you, finally leaning down to press a firm kiss to your lips. It made you gasp, your lips soft and warm as your hands pushed to the back of his head. Your lips were so addicting, slightly salty but soft and perfect against his own, his hand pushing to hold your hand.

He pulled away slightly, humming against your lips as you leaned up, pulling his lips right back onto your own. It was your first time kissing anyone, and Finnick’s lips were so warm and soft and perfect against your own, desperately pulling him down as he moved to kneel over your body.

You could feel his fingers slowly travel down your sides, trailing from your skin to your scales as his teeth graze your lips, mouth moving passionately and quickly in desperation as your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him lower. You squirm underneath him, desperately trying to pull him closer as Finnick pulls away slightly, groaning as he tries to stay away from your lips.

His softly brush against yours as you run your fingers through his hair, a deep sigh leaving your mouth. “I know humans are not like us. You started a mating ritual, this is your last chance to leave before it continues.”

“I don’t want to leave,” he whispers back, his hands shakily going over your tail. “I just don’t know how to continue.”

You giggled making him laugh, a smile on his face as he leaned forward to brush his nose against yours. “You have to wait until the moon comes up,” you whisper, pushing his hair back delicately. “I’m not able to change at will until we mate.”

“That long?” He groaned, his eyes trailing down your body and catching at your pretty nipples. “I guess that means I have to entertain myself some other way.”

“Wait,” you say, quickly cupping his face. “You need to come with me.”

He paused, staring at you in confusion. “Where?”

“To where the moonlight will find us the best.” You smiled, quickly grabbing his hand as you pulled him into the water.

He had heard stories about people being dragged to their death by your kind, but that wasn’t going to be him. He trusted you so much, holding his breath as you dragged him down lower and lower, the sunlight no longer able to be seen in the water. He could feel his vision blur until he’s pulled out of the water, gasping loudly as you giggled.

“Look! Look, isn’t it pretty? There is no sand here, that way it will not be uncomfortable when I shift into my human form.” You giggled, looking around as Finnick panted. “Oh, did I not give you enough time to take a breath?”

Finnick laughed, shaking his head. “No, I’m fine, darling. I-Is that a bed?”

You paused, looking over where he did, a makeshift bed of furs and nets making you smile. “Oh, yes! It’s customary to make a bed for the next pair and leave a special treat for them. Of course, it has to be something that can’t go bad, but when you and your mate finish, you burn the blankets that you used and use the ash in your wedding ceremony.”

Finnick swam over to you, lifting you up into his arms making you let out a giggle as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “Where does your kind get fur? You know, if you live underwater, it would spoil.”

You hummed as he laid you onto the soft furs that matched the ones brought only to the castle, customary for the kings because of how expensive it is. “I’m not sure. We do not use furs under the sea, just up here. How they acquired it is unknown to me.”

He merely hummed, his attention now on you as he softly pressed kisses to your collarbone. Your scales were cold and beautiful, sliding along his fingers beautifully as his tongue rubbed over the expanse of your collar bone, one of his hands sliding up your torso as you inhaled sharply.

You could feel your eyes roll back, his warm tongue sliding along your skin as the tips of his fingers trail along your skin that hadn’t yet become scales just yet, pulling the strands of thinly braided seaweed threaded with pearls and sea glass off of your body. He smiled when he saw the scales spotting along your breasts and your ribs that were hidden by the seaweed somehow, leaning down to let his lips hover over your scales, a sharp inhale leaving your mouth as your stomach twists.

Your scales were more sensitive than your skin, and his fingers were pinching against your nipple, thumb and middle rolling the sensitive bud. The feeling was foreign to you, a whine leaving your lips as his tongue trailed along your skin from the patch of scales to your nipple. A whine leaves your mouth, you hadn’t even shifted yet and you could already feel yourself getting aroused, his warm fingers and mouth kissing and sucking against your tits.

It was too much, your stomach clenching as your hands pushed into his hair, tugging and pulling in an attempt to pull him away with how sensitive he was making your body, licking and sucking and biting which made you whimper. Finnick was easily keeping himself entertained, waiting until the change would happen by distracting himself with marking up your body.

“For fucks sake, darling, I want to fuck you so bad.”

His words made you whimper, groaning loudly as you buck your hips into the air, pausing. You had hips.

“F-Finnick!” You gasped, staring down as he groaned. “Finnick, look!”

He laughed, shaking his head as his tongue lapped against your nipple, the perky bud making him grin as the tip of his tongue circled around it. “You’re not gonna get me away from these pretty tits, baby.”

“Finnick,” you giggle, pushing your foot against his thigh, your leg shaking. “Look.”

He paused, pulling away and staring down at your beautiful legs. His hands softly squeezed at your plush thighs, smiling as he kissed softly against your skin and pulling your legs above his shoulders. Your eyes widened, gasping. “W-Wait, Finnick!”

“I’ve waited months, darling. Please don’t make me wait any longer.” He stared at your cunt, your pretty pussy already soaked as his fingers slid up and down, gathering your wetness before teasing your entrance. “Please.”

You gasped, warm fingers pushing against the sensitive bundle of nerves, shaking your head. “I-I’ve never done this before, Finnick.”

He smiled, pressing a soft kiss to your clit. “It’s okay, darling, I’ll make you feel good. I promise.”

You inhale, slowly pulling him closer with a bend of your knees. “Okay. Pl-Please, please…” you whisper, humming as his tongue flattened against your slit. “Please fuck me.”

You use his words, gasping as you feel something foreign inside of you, eyes rolling back as you inhaled deeply. You blink a few times to collect yourself, staring down at his fingers that slowly pushed inside of you, two of them. You gasped, staring at them as they disappeared inside of you, pulling in and out as his tongue dragged along your clit. He groaned loudly, insatiable groans of pleasure falling from both of your lips.

He was desperately sucking and licking at your cunt, around your entrance against your clit, he was absolutely infatuated with your taste. It was making him feral, groaning into your cunt and sending vibrations up your spine as his fingers pushed knuckle deep into you, curling as he rutted against the blankets. Oh he had to be inside of you, but you had to cum first before he fucked you.

His fingertips graze that spot inside of you, pushing and rubbing right against that perfect spot as his mouth latched onto your clit, sucking and nibbling against the sensitive bundle of nerves that pushed you right over that perfect edge. Your eyes rolled back, stomach tightening as you bucked your hips unconsciously, your thighs shaking around his head as you still didn’t have enough control of your legs.

Finnick groaned, pulling out his fingers and curling them, dragging out every drop of your cum and scissoring his digits inside of you to make your walls clamp down on them, laughing as he licked up the pearlescent essence sliding out of your cunt. It makes him smile as he pulls your fingers out of your cunt, watching it flutter and clench around nothing before sitting back against his heels.

He pulled down his wet trousers and underwear, smiling as he dragged his cupped hand against your cunt, gathering your wetness mixed with his own saliva and slathering it onto his shaft before lining his head up with your entrance, biting his lips as your hands quickly flew to his shoulders. Your head was tilted back, mouth wide in pleasure as you groaned out, your fingers no longer webbed and the scales on your body now gone.

He leaned down with a sharp thrust, easily becoming balls deep inside of you as your walls tightened and fluttered around his shaft, a loud groan falling from both of your lips. “You just came again.”

“I-I’m still sensitive,” you whisper meekly, eyes wide as you stare down at where his cock disappeared inside of you, “Y-You feel so good, please don’t stay still. Please, I need you to fuck me, I need you to cum inside.”

He lost control with that one sentence, pulling his hips back before slamming back into you. It was rough and made sparks of both pleasure and pain spark up your spine, eyes rolling back at the unfamiliar but pleasure filled thrusting of his hips. He groaned loudly, his stomach already twisting as he choked against your shoulder – he was only a few thrusts in, desperately trying to chase the high he was right on the edge of, already drunk on your cunt.

“F-Fuck, fuck Y/N darling. You feel so good, so fucking good!” He groaned against your shoulder, mouth already attaching to the previously made hickies, letting out a loud moan as he slammed his hips forward, hips pausing when he finally came.

He didn’t stop though, his mind solely focused on fucking you now, watching your face slowly became fucked out, eyes hazy as you stared up at him. Your eyes were sparkling with unshed tears of pleasure, your stomach full of cum as he continued to thrust, barely an hour with legs and already lost feeling of them.

You wouldn’t have it any other way, though, hips bucking into his own in desperation as he panted above you, pausing nearly for a minute. It was still too long for him to be still inside of you, wiping the sweat from his brow as you whined. He grinned down at you, moving back to pull his cock out of you before slowly pushing back in. “Darling, you’re so desperate. How many times have I cum inside of you? And you still want more?”

“Wh-Why can’t I want more? You make me feel so good, and you like to fuck me, don’t you? So don’t stop, please don’t stop!” You basically wailed, gasping as he grabbed your hips and lifted them slightly off the bed to fuck into you again, head tilting back as you stared up at his face.

You could feel him twitch inside of you, slamming in and out of you as he fucking you like his own personal whore, which at this point, you basically were. You felt so full, eyes rolling back as sweat dripped down his forehead, mouth wide open with a loud groan. “Fuck darling, I don’t want to stop.”

His words make you laugh, shaking your head as you grabbed his shoulders and pulled him down for a firm kiss. “Well, I’m free to change at will now,” you whisper, stroking his golden hair. “You don’t have to stop.”

He smiled, pressing another kiss to your lips. “I love you so much, my darling mermaid.”

“And I love you, my darling human.”

“Just human? Am I just a human to you?” He says playfully, watching you giggle.

“Just shut up and fuck me, Finnick.”

“Whatever you say, my darling mermaid.”

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When The Bough Breaks : Part Two

A Rafe Cameron Mini Series

[THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THEMES OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, MENTAL-EMOTIONAL-PHYSICAL ABUSE, ETC. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 18+. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]

WC: 6.4k

Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics

PART ONE | MASTERLIST | PART THREE

            It was a little before noon on Friday when Moses came home. You were down on the beach. Thursday had passed in a blur. You had woken up still foggy, despite having gone to bed without the wine Wednesday night. But your body had become accustomed to it. Thursday morning you made yourself a margarita, slipped into an old one-piece, & trudged down to the beach, hoping the sun exposure would help rejuvenate you.

You had hoped to see Sarah again. You weren’t entirely sure why. Perhaps it was that you finally had connected with someone outside of your plethora bottles of wine. You momentarily recalled your encounter with the friendly realtor in town & shuddered. She reminded you too much of home, of all the wives of wealthy husbands—much like yourself—who hosted Tuesday brunches & commented on an article piece that featured one of your many upper-class wife-friends. Rose Cameron was not someone you hoped to interact with much. People like her always proved to be a let down when it really mattered.

The margarita you had made was safely burrowed in the sand, a perfect side table as you lied on your back, the North Carolina sun beating warmly down on you. There wasn’t a soul in sight. For the most part you were grateful for that. No one would bother you down here, not that anyone bothered you up at the house. Still, you were beginning to be thankful for the move. Perhaps your husband was right about the move; it would be good for you.

“_____?” The sound of your name forced you to look upwards & behind you, an awkward angle.

Standing upside down in your vision stood your husband. He had removed his own shoes, his pant legs rolled to his ankles. He smiled down at you. Even upside down he still remained whole-heartedly handsome.

“Moses.” You returned, your voice slightly shaky in his presence. You had completely forgotten today was Friday. You hoped he hadn’t noticed the margarita in the sand beside you yet, “You’re home.”

He came to your left, opposite the margarita. You pushed yourself to a sitting position as he joined you on the beach.

“It’s nice to come home & see you out here. I was worried when I called your name & there was no response.” He placed a gentle hand on your back, rubbing the exposed skin there. You scratched behind your ear uncomfortably at the physical affection. It had been a very, very long time since you felt him touch you lovingly.

“I figured a little sun wouldn’t help.” You shared, your voice lowering. You still loved your husband, as much as you could considering the circumstances, but it was difficult most of the time. He was a constant reminder of the great loss you both suffered.

“It’s a good first step, _____.” He began. You could feel his dark blue’s staring lovingly at you. But then they shifted. He had spotted the glass.

You inhaled sharply, standing up abruptly, sure to ‘accidentally’ knock the glass over so the remnants would spill into the sand, “Oh, shit.” You muttered, “What a mess.”

Turning your back, you gathered your phone, towel, & empty glass, tucking them all away in your tote bag. You slipped into your sandals, avoiding Moses’s worried eyes. “That’s enough sun for this morning, I think.”

You had just reached the sandy path back to your house when Moses caught up to you.

“_____.” He called gently. But you kept walking, knowing what he was going to say. “_____.” He said again, but more firmly.

When it was clear that you weren’t going to stop, he walked ahead of you to stand in your way. You faked a smile, “What is it?”

“You know you shouldn’t be drinking on your medication.”

You scoffed, shaking your head innocently, “It’s one drink, Moses. The doctor only said I shouldn’t be drinking excessively.”

But Moses gave you a look that revealed he knew you were lying. You ignored it, pushing past him, “Honestly, honey, it’s okay. I’m okay.”

“Maybe we should get set up with a counselor here, too.” He offered, catching up to walk alongside you.

You stopped abruptly at that. “Why would you suggest that?”

“Why is talking to someone such a bad thing?” He countered, “I know you were resistant in the beginning but it’s been over a year, _____. We need to talk to someone.”

You shook your head, feeling yourself grow sweaty with simmering anger.

“Would you talk to me?” Moses followed behind you as you entered through the basement doors. You sped-walk to the stairs, determined to climb the two flights so you could slam the bedroom door in your husband’s face. He needed to leave you alone. He was making it worse.

“Leave me alone, Moses.” You replied, though you were unsure if your voice really came to.

“_____!” He once again attempted to get ahead of you but you dropped your bag & made the last sprint to your bedroom. Before he could breach the threshold, you turned & slammed the door, locking it in the process. You did the same to the door that led in from the patio. You felt yourself shaking, unwilling tears getting caught in your eyelashes.

Moses tried the knob once. You heard him sigh tiredly on the other side, “I’ll leave you alone. But will you come see me when you’re ready.”

You didn’t respond. He sighed again. You could picture him resting his forehead on the door.

“Okay. I’ll be in my office.” His voice was quiet, sounding equally as dejected as you felt.

With that, you heard his footfalls carry away, his office just down the hallway from your bedroom. He wouldn’t be too far if you changed your mind. You fiercely grabbed one of the posts a part of your bedroom, none-so-gently pressing your face into it to cry silently. Even more frustrating is that you try to hide your dependency on alcohol from your husband, but he knew better. Still though, you wanted to lie to yourself that you didn’t know. So you couldn’t sneak out of the room to find yourself a bottle of wine to wind down & nap with.

You lied on your bed for what felt like a couple hours, staring aimlessly at the ceiling. Sleep tried coming for you a handful of times but your body wouldn’t give. Every now & then you heard Moses leave his office. Sometimes you could hear him approach the door, likely listening for you. You always held your breath. Tears escaped every time you did, finding it unbelievable that your marriage had come to this. But you couldn’t fix it, & neither could a counselor.

It was shortly after 2 when you finally left your bedroom. The house was quiet & when you passed by Moses’s office, his door was open but he wasn’t inside. You had changed into PJ’s at this point, & were growing hungry. When you reached the common area of the third floor, he was still nowhere in sight. You could see out the windows over the stairs that his car was here. Entering the kitchen, you finally caught a glimpse of him. He was on the patio, just past the sunroom. His shoulders were hunched & a cigarette was between his fingers. You frowned. He had given up smoking long before the two of you met. You knew he kept a pack for times when he was stressed, but you rarely ever actually saw him partake in the habit.

Ignoring the pleas of your stomach, you entered the sunroom. The sound of the screen door slamming back into place alerted Moses to your arrival. He glanced at you over his shoulder, a forced smile on his lips. He followed your line of sight to his fingers holding the lit cigarette. He half-heartedly laughed but there was no joy behind it.

“Guess we both have our vices.” He uttered.

You joined him at the railing, tempted to place a comforting hand on him, but couldn’t. You didn’t know how to touch him anymore.

“I’m sorry.” You said. And you were. Moses had only ever meant well. He would push but never too hard.

Your eyes met & he nodded, taking a drag of the cigarette. The two of you stared out to the ocean, the sun still high in the sky.

“We’ve been invited to a dinner.” He told you, surprising you. Who would he know in town to get an invite?

He continued without you gesturing for him too. “Our realtor, Jack Schaffer, I’m not sure you ever met him. But he’s invited us to a colleagues of his for dinner.”

Your stomach rolled, having a decent idea as to who could have orchestrated such a gathering.

“When?” You asked, hoping it won’t be for some time.

“Tomorrow night.” He responded, his voice audibly exhausted, “I declined.”

Your eyes widened, “Moses, why?”

He shrugged, “You’re not ready.” He dragged the cigarette on top of the railing before tossing it into an empty planting pot behind the two of you, “I don’t want you to force yourself for my sake.”

Your heart faltered, “Do you want to go?”

He exhaled, nodding, “It would be nice to get to know some people. I think it would be good for both of us. But I learned a long time ago to not decide what is good for you.”

Moses was a beautiful being. His entire career & lifestyle consisted of helping people heal, to grow stronger—though in most cases physically. But when it came to you, he felt helpless. You knew he wished for nothing more than to make you better. But it was your journey, not his.

“Thank you.” You replied. “You should go though.”

Moses looked at you, “I considered that. But uh, it’s just not the same without you. Quite frankly, it’d be lonely.”

You laughed softly, the memories of your early years with each other running across the forefront of your mind. You two were a package deal. Wherever you went he went, & wherever he went…

“Let’s go.” You swallowed the dry lump in your throat.

Moses furrowed his brows, “What? Why?”

“Because you’re right.” You started, “You’re always right. It’d be good for us. I wasn’t the biggest fan of this whole move-to-an-island tactic but it was a good move, it just took me a second to realize that.”

He grinned happily, his hand grabbing yours, “Are you sure? Are you absolutely sure, _____? I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“Moses, I’ve been not doing a lot of things I don’t want to do. You’ve done so much for me, I can do this for you.”

What he did next left you shocked. He pulled you into him, kissing the crown of your head. At first, you felt stiff in his arms, your first instinct to pull away. And you could feel in his affection that he was prepared for you to do just that. But as he held you against him, you saw over his shoulder the coastline & how beautiful it looked. You felt your eyes close sweetly slow, embracing this small, special moment far away from your misery.

Your wrapped your arms around his frame.

“I love you, _____.” Moses mouthed against the side of your head, “I always will.”

Saturday evening came much too quickly for your taste. The previous night was the first time you & Moses had had dinner together in quite some time. It was a quiet dinner, & at some points you felt yourself wanting to snap or breakdown, but Moses always found a way step away from a potentially triggering moment. The rest of the night had continued smoothly. Moses did the dishes as you took your medication & treated yourself to a hot shower. Then for the first time since you two moved to the east coast, Moses slept in your bed together. It was almost like before.

Almost.

By 5:30 you were done getting ready. It had been a long time since you got dressed up for a social event. Though it was only a small dinner, you still felt a lot of pressure to show up as your old self. Not that anyone even knew you before. You made good to remind yourself of that as you squeezed into a modest dark pink lace dress that you owned. The weight you gained wasn’t as well hidden in this dress but you figured you didn’t care. You couldn’t. If you cared too much then you’d never leave the house.

Moses stood in the doorway to the bathroom as you finished putting in your earrings. He looked impeccable in a simple cream colored button up matched with a pair of khaki colored slacks. He had recently shaved his facial hair down to a light buzz, taking away the salt look you had grown to like so much.

You turned to look at him, running your hands over your front, feeling unsure. Moses stepped forward, looking you up from head to toe, a warm smile on his handsome face, “You look perfect.”

“I don’t.” You rejected the compliment, but smiled through it, “But thank you anyway.”

His smile fell slightly but he brushed it off, “I have a call to make then I’ll be ready. How are you on time?”

You nodded, following him out of the bathroom, “I’m ready as I’ll ever be.”

He paused in the hallway outside his office, resting a comforting hand on your upper arm. You resisted shrugging it off, “Are you sure you want to do this?”

You didn’t trust your voice. So, you nodded, forcing a close-lipped smile.

You could tell that he didn’t believe you but he wasn’t a pusher, “I’ll be just a minute.”

Moses disappeared into his office. You carried your heels to the kitchen. You had taken your medication about an hour ago. You wanted nothing more than to chase it with a glass of wine but with Moses under the same roof you couldn’t risk it. It was no secret that you mixed the two together, & while it was obvious Moses knew about it, you didn’t want to see the look of disapproval. It’s why you savored the days when he was working inland.

In the butler’s kitchen, you surveyed the small collection of wine you kept. Old habits die hard, you thought as you contemplated which bottles would be best for gifting a host. You had decided on a summery white when Moses appeared. At first he look concerned but then nodded in agreement, “Good idea. I have an untouched bottle of scotch in my office.”

After Moses grabbed the bottle of scotch, you found some scrap ribboning, tying simple knots around the necks of both bottles, “Should be good enough.”

Moses kissed the side of your head before guiding you two to the door. Much to your chagrin, the destination wasn’t very far. Moses had insisted on walking, saying it would be good for both your legs to get some exercise. In less than three minutes, the two of you appeared at the end of a long driveway. The walk up revealed a beautiful & charming Charleston style home. It was all white, with big windows to let in all the North Carolina sunlight. You inhaled sharply, bracing Moses’s forearm for comfort as you got closer. He pat your hand gently, “It’s just like old times. You can do it.”

You didn’t believe his words but it was nice knowing you could lean on him when it mattered. Just as you were approaching the doors, a familiar face opened them, stepping out to greet the two of you.

“Evening!” She greeted happily, holding out her hand to shake your husbands hand, “It’s so nice to finally meet you. I’m Rose, welcome to our home.”

“Thank you for inviting us.” Your husband spoke before gesturing to you, “This is my wife, _____.”

“Hello, _____.” Rose surpassed a handshake, instead offering a hug that left you feeling shaken up over, “It’s lovely to see you again.”

Moses looked between the two of you momentarily. He opened his mouth to say something when another name hollered out, “Mr. McFarlane!” An average looking man about your age with a receding hairline stepped out, “Glad you could make it! I was relieved Rose was able to salvage the dinner arrangements after your cancellation. It’s nice to have you two here.”

As Moses turned to speak with the man who you assumed to be Jack, Rose faced you, her perfect smile blasting you in the face, “I hope you like steak.”

“Who doesn’t.” You softly said but swallowed down your discomfort, “Oh, we brought these as well.”

You produced the two bottles from a paper bag you carried, “I wasn’t sure what you drank so I went a safe route.”

Rose gleamed at the gift, taking the bottles, “This is great. Thank you, _____. Come on, follow me.”

You shot a wary look to Moses as he stood on the front steps with Jack. He mirrored you as you passed him by. It seemed you both were out of practice in the art of socializing.

“Your home is beautiful.” You offered as your eyes danced around the grand interior. For a house on the beach, it reminded you a lot of the condos you often were invited to back in the city. It had a lot of modern touches & luxurious pieces throughout.

“Thank you. Ward insisted on a renovation, but I convinced him to keep some small, vintage details.” She paused to point at an accent table that looked to be a couple centuries old but well-tended, “It’s an antique. Estimated to be $15,000. One of the pieces I saved from Ward’s modern taste.”

You nodded, truly not caring about the boasting of numbers, “It’s gorgeous.”

Rose hummed to herself, leading you into a larger room where a grand table was set with candles & dining sets. A man sat at the head of the table, a phone in his hand as he clacked away on it.

“Ward, honey, our guests are here.”

The man, who was very similar in appearance in age & appearance to your husband, glanced up from his phone. For a split second you looked mildly irritated before he replaced the expression with a polite smile. Rising from his seat, he rounded the table, offering his hand.

“_____, this is my husband, Ward Cameron. Ward, this is the woman who moved in down the street I told you about.” You cringed internally at that, imagining the worst things she could’ve possibly said about you. She seemed the type after all.

“Pleasure, _____.” Ward greeted.

“Likewise.” His grip was firm but short. Voices sounded behind you & to your relief your husband appeared. As the men introduced one another, another woman appeared. She was yours & Rose’s age.

“Vera, this is _____. Your husband sold them the house down the road.”

The woman smiled brightly, but hers wasn’t as overwhelming as Rose’s. “It’s nice to meet you, _____. I love your dress.”

“Oh, thank you.” You stumbled over the compliment, “I love your hair.”

You felt you were in grade school again, making friends on the first day when you didn’t want to be there.

“I just had it done!” She fingered her honey-colored locks that stopped just above her shoulders.

After the introductions concluded, everyone sat at the table. Rose & Ward at either end, you & Moses on one side, & Vera & Jack on the other. Conversation was light at first as everyone talked amongst themselves while appetizers were brought out by kitchen staff. You hadn’t eaten much today but there was no appetite. Still, you forced yourself to have a couple bites.

By the time the main course came out, everyone had had a bit to drink, that is except for you. You had grown accustomed to drinking on your own in the last year that drinking with others felt… strange. It wasn’t tempting whatsoever. Rose had offered you a glass of wine from the bottle you had bought but you declined. When she cocked an eyebrow at that, you knew that she had been expecting you to say yes.

Moses, Jack, & Ward discussed their work while Rose & Vera began to talk in detail about their kids. The topic choice forced you to be quiet. You could’ve had something to add, but not anymore. All the while Moses kept a comforting hand on your leg under the table. You were sure the steak you forced yourself to eat had taste but no flavors came through. You felt dizzy. You shakily brought a glass of water to your lips.

“_____, are you okay?”

The sound of your name followed by the question halted all conversation. You sweltered. Rose placed a hand on the arm closest to her, “You look pale.”

Bitch! You screamed internally to yourself. Now everyone was looking at you in concern.

“I’m okay.” You lied, folding the napkin on your lap & placing it on the table, “I just need to use the restroom really quick.”

“Certainly.” Rose’s airy voice feigned concern, “All the way down the hallway, then take a left & the bathroom is at the end.”

“Honey.” Moses lowered his voice as you stood. You tossed him a look of warning, “I’m okay. I’ll be right back. Please, continue.”

Escaping from the claustrophobic dining space, you followed Rose’s directions until you turned left at the end of the hallway. Away from prying eyes, you leaned against the wall, holding your head in your hands & catching your breath. Everything had been going well so far, or at least decent enough for you to hold your own. But then Vera gushed about her nine-year old, & Rose commented on her stepdaughter’s whereabouts. It was a life you would never get a chance to be a part of. You crumbled in seconds.

Once you felt calm enough to move again, you made the rest of your way to the bathroom. On approach, you noted that the door to it was cracked, with the light on. You frowned. The light suggested someone may be inside but the cracked door left you wondering if maybe a staff member just forgot to turn the lights off.

Hesitantly, you knocked but no sound came. Then you pushed it open slowly. A gasp left your lips at the sight before you.

Sitting on a small, cushioned chair, a young man sat, having just snorted a known white powder off the length of his thumb. His eyes blood-shot eyes flew to your own. While yours were wide & apologetic, his own were glaring & filled with an unbridled fury. You made to shut the door as you pulled away but he stood fast, gripping the end of it to open it more. He stood a good head taller than you, “Who the hell are you?”

You ignored his question, once again apologizing, “Wrong turn.”

Turning your back on him, you began to walk back to where you came from when the young man yelled loudly, “Hey! I asked you a question.”

You picked up speed but didn’t run. You just wanted to not draw any more attention to yourself. It wasn’t your business why there was a college-aged kid doing coke in your hosts’ bathroom.

Just as you were about to turn the corner, you bumped into a figure. It was Ward. He gripped your upper arms to steady you, an unhappy smile on his face, “Careful.”

Then he glanced behind you, his eyes narrowing. He didn’t say anything to the man behind you before he gently gestured for you to return the dining room, “Tell Rose I’ll be back momentarily, if you wouldn’t mind.”

Shakily you nodded, beginning to walk away from him. Ward disappeared around the corner, walking toward where you had just left. You walked slowly, not in a rush to return to the dining room. As you stalled, you heard heated whispering coming from the hallway you had departed from.

“Goddamnit!” It started, “We talked about this, Rafe.”

Rafe? Why did that name sound vaguely familiar.

“Yeah, yeah. You don’t want your son around when you have people over. Ashamed of me, right, Dad?”

Ward spoke again but this time lower, leaving you unable to decipher what was being said. But it didn’t matter. It wasn’t your business. Leaving the two to their affair, you focused on your breathing, returning to the dining room.

Everyone was in conversation with one another, except for Rose. When you sat down, you felt her eyes on you. You raised your own to meet yours. She looked at you as if you were hiding something from her.

“Better?” She asked. Moses turned to you, echoing her question.

“Yes, much.” You replied, though you really hadn’t a chance to get better. You just happened to get distracted & chased away, which albeit, did help you forget your anxieties in a way.

“Your husband said he would be right back.” You told Rose. She produced a stiff smile, nodding once. Then she turned her attention to everyone at the table, “Well, should we have dessert?”

Dessert lasted longer than the appetizer & main course combined. Ward had returned shortly after you, a disdainful look on his face, despite the grin he kept carrying throughout conversation. Rose had quit talking some time ago, deep in thought, you could tell. At some point, the men followed Ward to his private dwellings, referring to the space as ‘where he goes to get away from the women in his life’. Both men had chuckled awkwardly at the comment. Moses gave you a gentle kiss on the head before he left down the hallway with them.

Like the men, Rose excused herself as well, claiming her attention was needed elsewhere, but not before telling you & Vera to make yourselves at home, going so far as to suggest the backyard where a beautiful view of coast waited.

The sun had just set when you & Vera followed her advice, sitting a patio table to converse lightly with one another. Vera you liked. A lot. She was one of those women you knew you could trust. She didn’t fake her smiles or care about the matters of others. You hoped that if you were to run into anyone more often on the island in the future it would be her. However, a bit into your conversation with one another, her phone began to ring.

“Sorry.” She winced, “It’s the babysitter. Cyrus hasn’t been feeling good the last couple days.”

You nodded in understanding, having understood it at one point, & told her you would be fine on your own. Vera left you to your lonesome.

For the first time that night, you felt at ease. There were no strangers to judge you when you weren’t looking, or intrusive realtor wives to make your blatant discomfort a matter of concern for everybody. You sat at the table for some time, watching the sky shift from an orange-y pink to a pinky purple. You checked the time on your phone & it was nearly 8:30. It was disconcerting to think that you had been at this gathering for over two hours now. Before you could last all night, but you had already felt yourself begin to wane as you left your home. Still though, sitting by yourself for the first time that night felt comforting.

You slipped out of your heels, no longer finding it necessary to wear them with no others around. The glass door from the kitchen opened & a young girl carrying a tray of wine glasses came out, “Miss, would you like some?”

You easily could’ve said no but it would only be one glass. With a welcoming smile, you accepted a glass from the woman before she returned inside. You brought the glass to your lip, taking a small sip. Immediately, you felt your muscles relax. You inhaled deeply, savoring the familiar taste on your tongue.

Kicking your heels under the table, you rose from your seat & began to walk out onto their expansive lawn. The grass was embarrassingly soft beneath your feet. Had you a couple more glasses of wine in you, you probably would’ve lied down for your husband to find you. But fortunately, it wouldn’t come to that.

You stood at the edge of their lawn, looking out onto the beach, taking a drink from your wine every few moments. As you stood there, admiring the view & embracing the quiet coastal charm, you resolved that this was a world you could grow to love. You already were, after all. For a moment longer, you enjoyed the views. And then footfalls sounded behind you.

You exhaled slowly. All good things must come to an end at some point.

Turning around you had expected to see Vera, ready to apologize a second time, or even the host coming to stare at you until you broke under her stare, but it was neither friend nor foe who you were surprised to see.

Instead, who approached you was the young man from the bathroom. Upon closer inspection, he was indeed young. He had light brown hair that kissed his forehead, grueling blue eyes that paired well with his sun-kissed skin, & an unfriendly smirk gracing the corner of his lips. Already, you felt your walls go up. What the hell did this kid want?

“Hello again.” He greeted.

You nodded once, opting to not say anything. You turned away from him, focusing your attention back on the beach. Part of you hoped he was just going to pass you by, but then he stopped just beside you, his hands in his pockets.

“How was my step-mothers dinner?” He said ‘step-mother’ with such distaste that you could actually relate to it.

“Fine.” You responded shortly.

“Hmm.” You looked at him in your peripheral, seeing a knowing smirk appear on his face, “I see you’re not impressed by her attempts like other wives on this island.”

It was your turn to hum in response. What business did you have to—in a way—talk shit about Rose to her stepson? Absolutely none.

“It’s okay.” He said, seemingly having read your mind, “I can’t stand the gold-digger either.”

The insult forced your lips to part in shock. The gall of this guy…

“That why you were making a run for the bathroom earlier?” He reached into his pocket, pulling out a joint, “Trying to escape her overbearing arrogance.”

Yes & no, you thought to yourself but still kept it nonverbal.

The young man peered down at you curiously before lighting the joint. The thick smell of marijuana invaded your nostrils, making your stomach flip. You had never much partook in smoking the grass, having always favored alcohol over other vices, but you had been around it plenty in your 20’s. You subconsciously waved away the smoke that wafted towards you.

“Whoops.” The young man voiced, but didn’t sound all the apologetic as he blew the smoke, this time sure to blow it away from you. “Want a hit?”

You frowned, finally looking at him, “No, thank you.”

He wagged his head at that, seemingly amused, “���No, thank you’.” He mocked.

You rolled your eyes. Though he was college-aged, he must’ve not grown much at all. You finished off the glass of wine, regretful you couldn’t enjoy the last bit in peace. You were about to turn & leave the man behind when what he said next took you by surprise.

“My father said I needed to apologize to you.” The way he said it informed you that he absolutely didn’t believe he was apologetic, but it was enough to keep you standing there.

You turned to face him fully, “Apology accepted.”

He scoffed, a cocky smile appearing on his face, “That wasn’t me apologizing.”

You shook your head, “And I don’t expect I’ll get a proper one from you. So, I’ll take what I can get.”

Smoke seeped from his parted lips as he stared down at you. It left you feeling unsettled.

“Goodnight.” You had barely taken a step away when his next words shook you to your core.

“Word on the island is you’re a drunk.” You paused, not facing him. You felt your skin flush, “And that your husband is too weak of a man to get you help.”

You rounded on him with lightening speed, “You can spit all the crap you want about your mother—”

“Stepmother.” He countered.

You ignored him & continued heatedly, “But you don’t talk about my husband. He is a good man, a good husband.”

The young man smiled proudly. You wished you were the type to smack some sense into someone.

“Hey, I wasn’t saying that. Just people are. Thought you’d like to know.” Though he was claiming innocence, you knew better than to trust this child standing before you.

“Well then you shouldn’t believe everything you hear.” You countered.

“You’ve defended your husband.” He said, taking a hit from the joint, “But you’ve not come to your own defense.”

You felt your brows furrow in confusion until you remember what else he had said. You lowered your eyes shamefully, “Like I said. You shouldn’t believe everything you hear.”

“Mhmm.” He stared at you challengingly. You felt yourself falter under his all-knowing glare. But you never lowered your gaze, not wanting to succumb to the words of a youth. You were at least stronger than that.

“_____?” The sound of your name ripped your focus away from the problem before you. On the patio, holding your heels, was your husband. He waved you over, “We’re heading out.”

You waved back before facing the young man once more, “Have a goodnight, kid.” You said, none-so-gently placing your empty glass of wine into the palm of his hand. Your skin erupted in goosebumps at the contact you initiated. The young man grinned, his eyes never leaving you.

“Name’s Rafe.”

“Uh-huh.” Ignoring his stares, you turned your back on him, approaching your husband.

“Everything okay?” He asked with concern. For the umpteenth time that night, you forced another smile, “Everything is grand.”

Moses offered his forearm as you used it to balance slipped back into your heels. As you did so, your eyes reluctantly returned to the figure standing on the lawn. Though he was a couple yards away, you felt his eyes burning into you. Shaking it off, you stood straight, smiling at your husband, “Ready.”

Back inside, Rose & Ward met you two at the front door. Vera & Jack were nowhere in sight.

“Unfortunately, they had to leave.” Ward shared, noting your wandering gaze, “Kid was puking.”

“Ah.” You mustered a smile, “Well, thank you for dinner.”

Rose hugged you once more, but said nothing. Throughout the night, you had noticed her mask of friendly neighbor slowly melt. The two of you were about to part when Rose finally spoke, this time however, she addressed your husband.

“Mr. McFarlane, really quick, I wanted to mention something that Jack forgot to tell you.” The two of them stepped off to the side, leaving alone with the man of the house. Your eyes fell to Ward, & you were flustered to see his eyes were already on you, narrowed.

“Mrs. McFarlane, I understand you saw my son doing something inappropriate earlier.” His bluntness took you by surprise. Couldn’t you just leave?

“Oh, I’m not sure—”

“Please.” He chuckled lightly, attempting to smile reassuringly at you, “There’s no need to protect him.”

You closed your lips, nodding once.

“I know you’re new to the island, & while I know you’ve not made any friends here yet—” The comment shocked you but he continued anyway, “I ask that anything you see here to not be shared with anyone outside of this home.”

You were unsure of what to say, still recovering from his previous comment.

“You’ll learn soon enough I imagine how, well, to put it plainly, how ruthless people on the island can be. I imagine you’ve heard what people have said about you.”

A small, appalled exhale escaped you. But before you could neither confirm nor deny, the unpleasant man before you carried on.

“So, I just ask that if you keep your mouth shut.” He stepped forward as he lowered his voice, “I’ll keep mine shut as well.”

You frowned. It wasn’t like you had anything major to hide, or really anything to be ashamed of. You came from a world very similar to this one, what baggage you carried was a carry-on compared to the trolley some people needed for theirs.

“I trust you understand what I’m saying.” You stared up at him, at a loss for words.

“Ready, honey?” Moses appeared at your side, “Thank you again for dinner, Ward. It was excellent.”

Rose joined Ward, her hand grasping his forearm. A very tyrannical couple stood before you. Ward’s eyes softened at your husband’s thanks, “It was all Rose.”

Actually, it was all a probably underpaid kitchen staff, you wanted to interject but remained quiet.

Rose grinned proudly, “It was lovely having you two over finally. We’ll have to do it again soon.”

Ward nodded in agreement, his eyes falling to your own in silent discernment.

“We would love to.” Moses replied.

With that, Rose & Ward stepped to the side to allow you to access to the exit you greatly craved.

“And _____,” Rose’s painfully kind voice sounded behind you, “Thank you again for the wine. It was lovely.”

‘Lovely’ was quickly becoming your most-hated word, & you didn’t even have one to begin with.

“Of course.” You muttered, a smile not quite reaching your lips.

Moses placed a hand on your lower back as he led you out of the door. Though his hand was on you in comfort, you felt anything but. Against your better judgement, you peeked over your shoulder once more, observing Ward standing in the doorway of his egregious home. Much like his son, you could feel the unwavering stare burning your skin as you walked away.

It was in that moment that you decided that you would never interact with a member of that family again, for as much as you could help it.

A very long part. I hope ya'll are enjoying it so far. What do we think of Rafe's introduction? Talk to me!

Please comment, reblog, drop an ask, I want to hear it all friends. It really helps as a writer.

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[comfied-chriterature]

WAIT OMG I forgot it was Mermay!!!!! I'm gonna share the siren/selkie/sailor Sigskk (accidental alliteration) au I made up purely so I could describe the ocean in loving, overabundant detail (and also because I'm reading To Kill a Kingdom)

𓆞༄･ﾟ𓆝࿐ ࿔*: 𓆟

Sigma's casino floats on the blue, but instead of the sky, it's the sea. A cruise that feels like a home, and every customer is family. (He is not a pirate, even though he has a cutlass and a flintlock pistol and a freaking hook.) Longing to feel the liquid pull of the ocean against his skin, Sigma steps down into a jolly-boat. There, he is assailed and nearly butchered by a siren defending his territory, a creature of water with fiery hair, until he's pulled back aboard.

Later, Sigma's ship is attacked by real pirates. After defeating them, Sigma and his crew scour their ship and find, imprisoned, a man with tousled cacao hair, clothed only in bandages (along with... Gogol??? How did you get here????) He's a regular damsel in distress with a mysterious eyepatch over one of his eyes, and definitely not a selkie and ex-partner of that siren.

Below: A snippet of Sigchuu's meeting that I wrote in a fit of passion.

The sea glitters, waves crashing gently against the hull of his ship, an ambient noise that could lull one to sleep. It’s deliciously blue, an ombré that melts into a softer azure, highlighted by the shimmering, radiating dot of the white sun.

Sigma dives in.

The salty water should burn his eyes, but Sigma hardly feels it. It’s even more beautiful down under, a dazzling world of aquamarine — beams of light slanting over his head, his hair weightless and flowing around him. Fish in primary colors dash past his eyes and bubbles float up from his mouth. Seaweed sways in a breezy dance. Atop the squishy sand, Sigma's hands caress vibrant seashells like so many gems.

And then his back is crushed against them.

Sigma can’t see — his hair whips in front of his face and sticks to his eyes. The air is pushed out of his lungs and he inhales water. Something is beating his head into the smooth, colorful sea pebbles below, and there’s blood clogging the water and his vision.

He swears and gasps and chokes, heartbeat all he can hear against the throbbing of the waves in his ears. I'm going to die I'm going to die my casino my patrons my ship I need to get back I can't breathe...

Sigma shoves against the snarling, squirming thing forcing him down. He curses his long hair with his limited thought space. He reaches blindly, catching on teeth and skin and hair and- and scales? But he’s got it — his flintlock. He wrestles it out of his pocket and fires.

There’s a growl of shock, and Sigma forces himself away from his assailant and up, praying that he’ll break the surface before everything goes black—

The sky. The sun. Sigma breathes as everything becomes bright again. He hacks up seawater and blood (concerning), and frantically rubs the ocean and his hair out of his eyes.

There’s someone with him.

Something? He can’t tell. All he sees is a face — a human face — submerged in the water with only the eyes breaking surface, eyes bluer than the sky, than the sea, than any gem tossed on Sigma’s poker tables when all other currency had been lost. A predator. Sienna locks surge over brown shoulders and swirl around their head like a planet’s rings. Most striking of all are their ears, fanned like fairy wings but nowhere near as delicate, frilled and bristling in aggression.

Sigma thinks this creature is beautiful, even as their face is twisted in animalistic rage.

The creature lunges. Claws drip with crimson, swirling patterns up the arm. They're sharp enough to hook Sigma's breath.

He's scrambling onto his boat before he can learn just how sharp they are, and his ever-diligent crew shouts and hoists him up immediately.

Sigma's eyes meet scorching blue, narrowing in rage. They're nothing like the ocean, he realizes. They're like fire.

Then he gasps and flinches back. A mirage... it must be. The flare of the sunlight must be fooling his eyes. Because, inexplicably, the ocean seems to whirl up to meet him, as though sentient.

But now is not the time to think about that.

𓆞༄･ﾟ𓆝࿐ ࿔*: 𓆟

#yeah I love mermaids and the ocean #sigskk #sigchuu #sigzai #soukoku #dachuu #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #bsd fanfic #sigma bsd #chuuya nakahara #dazai osamu #chriterary classics #mermaid #siren #selkie #merfolk

[do-not-fearr]

Cry Out - Echo the Siren

I am so very sorry for how long this took! Started this at the same time as the shark fic, but just couldn't get myself to finish it. The Drider x reader is even more delayed tho, considering I started that one before all other fics :P Oh well, it'll get there, eventually... You can't rush 4000 word smut fics!

...

Pairing: Siren x f!reader

Wordcount: 4001 words

Tags: hypnotising voice, bathtub sex, submissive siren boy

Summary: When you find an injured Siren on the beach, you bring him home and nurse him back to health. He's staying quiet for you; not wanting to hurt you with his voice, but can't help but let out little noises as you clean and bandage his wounds. The little sounds are affecting you a little too much, however.

It was a beautiful day, and you had decided to take a walk on a small, remote beach near your house. There was a strong wind blowing, and your cheeks ached and reddened with the chill of the salt water in the air. You were alone on the beach, as usual when you took this route, and you thanked your lucky stars you had come across this hidden gem in the first place, since the sand seemed as pristine as ever, indicating no other humans had walked here yet other than you.

Untouched sand, rocks and trees hiding the beach from view, the ocean, ahh beautiful- wait. What was that? 

There was something that caught your eye along the shore. Slowly you made your way over to it, getting a clearer look with every step. It seemed to be something washed ashore, a ton of netting with something sparkling inside of it. Was it a net with fish that washed here? No, you'd probably see a ton more flies around, and you'd smell it. But when you inhaled the air was fresh. 

The sparkling in the sunlight became more intense the closer you got, and despite your earlier thoughts it was clear they were scales... a couple more steps, and you stopped dead in your track. Was that... a man? An anxious feeling rose inside of you at the thought of having come across a dead body, but when you slowly forced yourself a little closer to be absolutely sure you noticed the man had a fish tail.

You had no time to ponder on whether it was fake or not (it had to be), because he moved, and you realized he was alive. Swiftly you ran over, kneeling down next to him. He was completely wrapped into the nets, and you pulled at it to no avail. Maybe you could call for help, and- 

The tail was real, it was attached to him, and it was bloodied and bruised. As a matter of fact now you saw how injured the man (merman?) was, he was covered in wounds, and you saw his chest rise and fall quickly. You could call an ambulance, but... who was going to help a merman? He was going to be dissected and researched, no. Your car was close by, you'd try to fix him up yourself, try to keep this a secret as well as you could. Carefully you turned the man so you could see his face, since it was hidden in the sand. The netting dug into his tail as you did so, and you decided to untangle him first. Maybe you had something sharp on you you could use... You had a belt cutter in your car, that would probably be your best bet for now. Swiftly you got to the car, driving it over carefully between dunes of sand and rocky earth, both relieved and sad to see the man still laying there. 

With the car close by, and the belt cutter in your hand you jogged back to him, instantly setting to work. It was fairly easy to take off the netting now that you had something to cut it with, but you realized something sharp had already been used to cut the nets before you had tried - to no avail. When you got an arm free you realized what that something sharp could've been. He had long, pointy nails, and fins attached to lower arms that you accidentally found out were razor sharp. A hiss left you as you cut yourself on it, instantly cradling the wound. It wasn't too deep though, and the man was much more in need of help than you, so you left it for later. It wasn't bleeding too much, unlike the wounds on the merman, and you finally got his tail free enough so that you could roll him over. 

He was beautiful, but pale as a sheet and his expression was tight from pain. Heavy pants left his mouth, and an occasional small moan in pain. It was a strange thing to think but his voice was so beautiful you had to almost force yourself to continue moving and not stop to listen. He had long, silvery white hair with a slight blue sheen, just like his tail, and despite how covered in dirt and blood he was, he was gorgeous. The sharp nails, various sharp fin protrusions, and also razor sharp teeth inside his half open mouth gave away that he was definitely a predator though, and you proceeded with caution. 

"I'm going to lift you up, okay?" you said more than asked, knowing he probably wasn't going to respond, considering he was still unconscious, but it felt like the right thing to do. You pulled at his arms, careful not to hurt yourself on the sharp edged fins again, and dragged them over your shoulders. He was lighter than you thought, but still... extremely heavy, and there was no way you were going to be able to lift his tail as well, just dragging it behind you in the sand. You feared about it worsening his wounds, sand now getting into them and everything, but there was no other choice at this point. 

-

You were able to get him on the backseat of your car, struggling to get his tail in, since it was covered in those sharp fins, and they were bigger than the ones on his arm, but you somehow managed without cutting yourself open too much. In the end your arms looked like you fought a lion, but he was on the backseat. You didn't know how long he could stay out of the water, so you hurried your way over to your house, filling the tub to the brim before going through the same problem you had before with dragging him to the car. You were so glad you didn't have to drag him up the stairs since you had a small beach house. It would have been impossible.

With all the power you had in you, and then maybe some, you dropped him in the tub, his body submerged while his tail was still out. It was the best you could do, and also enabled you to see his wounds and cuts more clearly. You didn't have anything to sew him up, but you did have disinfectant, and you hoped just bandaging him would be enough for now.

You started cleaning him softly, but realised that was not going to work, so you started going in a little harder. The wounds were starting to bleed again, but it also took with it the sand and debris, so you hoped that would be the good thing. You were cleaning and bandaging him so intently you didn't even realise he'd regained consciousness, and was looking at you from the tub. Only his eyes were above the water and some bubbles escaped his gills once in a while, but he was so quiet when you noticed you let out a yell, falling back on your butt and taking all your first aid supplies with it. 

He instantly came out, reaching for you in regret of scaring you, but the moment he realised he'd done that he immediately went back under the water. 

"Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to startle you," you said, and he slowly went back up, pointing at himself then you in reply. It seemed he hadn't meant to startle you as well, so you slowly moved back to your earlier spot, uncertain if he was okay with you continuing your work. Your eyes were on him sharply, unsure still of his intentions. He looked back, and you finally had time to see his eyes. They were pure black, even the sclera, and you couldn't deny the slight fear that you felt whenever you made eye contact. Or, at least you assumed you did, since his eyes were pools of black and you couldn't really see where he was looking. 

"I found you on the beach," you started explaining yourself when he didn't speak, and the silence was becoming uncomfortable, especially as your hands itched to continue your work of helping him. "Injured and unconscious, so I brought you home... to heal you." You added the last words in a slight whisper, uncertain if there really was anything you could do. It was quiet, and you looked anywhere but his eyes, but the moment he carefully pushed his tail back onto your lap your eyes shot back at him again. He was submerged again, only his eyes looking at you from over the water, and you slowly resumed your cleaning and wrapping the bandages around him. You didn't even realise that you had started humming a little song to yourself as you worked, something you were so used to that you did it without thinking. The Mer rose up from the water slowly, interested in your song, but you didn't seem to realise his movement, still steadily and gently cleaning his wounds, further and further up his tail. 

Suddenly your hands froze as another voice joined you in song, and your voice trailed off as you lost yourself into the mysterious beauty of the sound. It was otherworldly, the most beautiful thing you'd ever heard, and it seemed everything around you fell away as your eyes were solely on the Mer in your bathtub. His eyes were closed as he sang his own song, and you felt yourself move closer without your knowledge or consent, your body and mind caught in the spell of his music. Somewhere in your mind alarm bells went off, but you were unable to tear yourself away from him, feeling your conscious mind fade away until all that was left was him and his song. 

The spell broke abruptly as you toppled over the edge of the bathtub, hitting the water and the Mer with a loud splash, and he startled so badly he instantly stopped singing, splashing away as he tried to get away from you to no avail as you were on top of him, trying to get out as well. The both of you were a tangled mess of limbs, the water soaked sides of the bathtub too slippery for you to get up immediately. Apologies tumbled from your mouth as you finally managed to sit upright, checking him instantly for any new injuries, but he was turned away from you. It was so awkwardly that it seemed it was hurting him, his tail pinned under you as his upper body was contorted the other way to be as far away from you as possible. 

Thankfully you found the sudden strength to get out of the tub, dripping wet and feeling terrible for what just happened. Though you had no idea how you'd wound up inside the tub in the first place, since your memory seemed blurry and hazed all of a sudden.

"I'm so sorry!" You stuttered, waving your hands in a apologetic manner, "I don't know what came over me. Did I hurt you?" 

The man shook his head, still not looking at you. 

"I really am sorry, I must've been tired... your song..." you were a mess of apologies, soaking clothes and awkwardness, and you really should leave, but before you could he grabbed your arm, turning your hand palm up to him as he carefully ran a clawed finger over it.

It took you a second to realise he was writing words on your palm, but you thankfully caught the end of his sentence.

[...so very sorry... started singing... very beautiful, couldn't help myself... are injured?]

Slowly you moved back, taking a second to register the words he'd written on your palm and trying to make sense of them.

"Oh, did I hurt you after all?" You replied, panic overtaking you again, but he shook his head again, writing on your palm once more.

[no, i injure you? ...very sorry... will not sing again.]

Oh, he was worried he'd hurt you instead. Well, no you were fine, safe for maybe a bruise on your ribs when you fell into the tub, but that really was your fault since you... oh, he mentioned singing?

Your brain seemed to work so slowly you felt like an idiot when you finally blurted out: "Oh! Are you a siren?" 

A firm nod from him as he looked away again, writing apologies on your hand once more, and that he couldn't help himself since he liked your humming so much he had to join in. Slowly you sat down next to him again, smiling despite what had happened.

"Well, let's not do that again. I like being in control of my actions, and I really need to finish cleaning your wounds." You were about done with his lower body, his tail a mishmash of poorly applied bandages and cleaned wounds. A wince escaped you as you saw your own handiwork, but you were nothing if not dedicated. "Can I ask your name? Mine's y/n." 

[Echo] he wrote on your hand, smiling a smile that was both sweet and a little pointy, and you felt your heart skip a beat. It was about to skip many more considering you were now moving on to his torso, slowly working up to his face, where scratches and cuts still littered the pale skin. He was still holding your hand in his, and you didn't feel the need to pull it away from him, opting instead to just clean his wounds with one hand. The bandaging would have to wait a little, and maybe he didn't even need them on these superficial cuts. 

His tail was definitely in worst shape, but that didn't mean you didn't have your work cut out for you with the rest of him. He sighed as you cleaned a cut on his stomach, and your movement got a little hastier. You were unsure if the sound was music to your ears because he was a siren, or just because of yourself. The closer you got to him with the little sighs, winces and sweet smiles, the more trouble you had focusing. This was not supposed to turn you on, but it sure the fuck was.

"I'm... I'm moving to your face now. Just squeeze my hand if it hurts, so I'll stop, okay?" you murmured to him, afraid to break the spell that had fallen over you both when you looked shyly into his eyes and saw them crinkle at the corners from yet another smile. A small squeeze before you even touched his face had you take a pause, but when you looked up again you heard him let out a cheeky little giggle, the sound throwing your brain into la la land. 

Oh you were in trouble. Deep trouble. And it wasn't only because you had a Siren in your bathtub, but that's where it all began. It was that the sounds he was making, despite trying to stay quiet for you, were starting to affect you greatly. As you tried to focus on the dewy skin on his face you decided that it was probably a combination of your own feelings and the power he had in his voice (or so you assumed), and hoped you could finish your work without doing anything stupid.

Like act on the feelings of lust blossoming in your lower stomach.

"Does it hurt?" you asked when a particularly hissed sigh escaped him, but he shook his head. You were unsure if it was just because he was just trying to stay strong for you, but it really didn't matter for the throbbing in your core at this point. His hand was still holding you, clawed thumb rubbing over your palm absentmindedly as you tried to suppress a shiver. 

He didn't suppress a shiver, and your eyes widened as a mewl escaped him and his fingers tightened around yours. 

Oh, was that a squeeze? Did it hurt? The thought was only fleeting as you stopped moving entirely to gaze into his eyes that gazed straight back.

And you realized how close you were to each other. His mouth was half open after the hissing sounds he had made, and a tongue peeked out to lick his lower lip, and you felt yourself falling. Closer and closer until your lips met his', and neither of you pulled away. 

The sound coming from him was unmistakable now, and you realized he had been affected as much as you had by your close proximity and your touch. Who knows, maybe the slight sting of your cleaning hadn't been as unpleasant to him as you first thought. 

You dropped the small towel you had used to clean his wounds, hands instead reaching for him. Your fingers grazed his razor fins, and you hissed as both of you pulled back at once. The cut was superficial, and at this point you barely cared, but Echo put his hands on the fins, keeping their sharp edges from you. His eyes conveyed concern, but his sounds conveyed arousal, and one sly hand reached out for yours as he pulled it to his lips to lick the shallow wound. 

More mewls escaped him and you shivered as sharp teeth grazed the skin, almost like they were itching to bite down. At this point you were sure you were in danger; he was drawing you in with every noise he made, but the way he reacted to your blood was telling of him being a predator that could eat you with a single bite. Echo was a siren, they probably preyed on humans... but somehow you couldn't find it inside of yourself to care, especially as he removed your hand from his mouth to drag it down his lithe body, resting below the waterline as you felt something prodding against your palm. 

Another groan as you realized his length had come free of his sheath, this time you mirrored the sound as you climbed into the tub, uncaring of how it soaked the clothes that were (sadly) still covering you. 

He recoiled slightly, holding his arms back and moving his hips in such a way that you weren't cut open with your rather adventurous straddling move, but when you managed to not nick yourself on anything sharp he bucked up slightly, letting out a desperate little noise. For someone that didn't speak he sure let out a lot of sounds and you drank them in like liquor, mind being affected in much the same way. 

You breathed out his name and he whined, arms held away from you as he tried getting friction against his leaking shaft without hurting you. He was in a delicious dilemma of being too afraid to take the reigns. After all, his entire body was covered in sharp edges and he wasn't planning on hurting you. But he wanted to fuck you so bad he could barely think straight. The only thing he could do was keep his pointy bits away from you and hope you'd impale yourself on him before he lost his mind. 

Hands leaving him, you started undressing, having trouble with the soaked garments. His ravenous eyes on you sped up the process significantly, and you found you even liked taking the process slow as he was practically salivating by the end, still stubbornly keeping his arms away. 

His mouth opened, tongue once again licking his lips and teeth as it seemed he wanted to ask, beg perhaps for you to impale yourself on his impatient cock that was heavy against your thighs as you finally got out of your jeans. 

You slowly rubbed yourself against him, keeping a sharp eye on his expression as you were pretty sure his eyes rolled back before closing entirely as you rubbed yourself against his dick, not yet guiding it inside but enjoying the friction immensely. A hissed curse left your mouth as your pussy throbbed around nothing, teasing yourself as much as you were teasing him. Your fingers gripped his hips tight, nails never penetrating the tough scales, as you rutted against him slowly. Steadily building towards a release, but never rushing as Echo leaned back, biting his lips. A small trickle of blood ran down his lip from the bite, and he licked it up quickly, eyes opening again to send you a pleading gaze, lips opening to form the word "please", as a shiver wracked his frame. 

A cheeky smile was on your lips as you decided to have mercy on the poor man, carefully lining up his leaking shaft with your core. 

A groan that vibrated through his chest, down his body and straight into yours left his mouth and you replied in kind, tightening around him as you mewled his name, nails digging in his hips a little harder. 

"So good," you murmured, "You're being so good." He was being good. He was still actively trying to not hurt you, but that wasn't even the reason you said it. It just came naturally after hearing him, and you wondered if your choices this day had been entirely your own. When you felt him rut inside you so deliciously you couldn't find it in yourself to care much, rolling your hips against him in a sensual dance. 

A dark blush was on his face, reaching all the way to his chest and you giggled as you leaned forward to nip the tops of his pecks. He had no nipples, which was strange to you, but he responded all the same as you kissed and lapped at his skin. When he bucked up a little too hard you accidentally bit down. Words of apology were about to spill as you noted the red mark next to his other cuts, but the way his hands finally found your hips to grab them tightly as a full body shudder wracked him, mouth open in a silent plea... the apology died on your lips. It seemed he liked you being a little rough, and you instantly made another mark right under the other one, enjoying the way his hips stuttered into yours immensely. Water splashed over the edges of the tub, but you didn't care, too lost in the feeling of him inside of you. He throbbed deliciously, and when he looked away, gritting his teeth and shivering as he gripped your hips a little tighter still you realized he must've been close. 

His neck was stretched out and ready for you to bite down on, and as he looked down with watery, pleading eyes you almost wondered if he wanted you to. So you did. Littering his chest and neck with marks as you murmured for him to let go.

He came with a call of your name, the first word he'd said so far. And what a sound it was, so hypnotising and titillating he pulled you straight over the edge with him. Searing heat filled you as you throbbed around his length, moaning his name over and over as in a mantra, while he kept thrusting his hips in to pump you fuller and fuller with his cum. 

Slowly it trickled out of you, troubling the little water that was still in the tub after your session. As you opened your eyes you saw him look down on you, blissful expression on his face as the blush returned. A slightly shaky hand found yours and you thought he was going to write on it again, but instead he brought it to his face, kissing the palm sweetly before giving it the slightest nip. The wounds on his tail had probably opened up under you, but you didn't care much for it. It seemed he was healthy enough, and what trouble was it for you to keep him around a little longer? 

You giggled as he put your hand over his chest, letting you feel his heartbeat as he leaned back. 

Yeah, there was no way he'd leave anytime soon. After all, you needed to redo his bandages.

#siren x reader #monster x reader #x reader #x y/n #terato #nsft #smut #my work

[scriveyner]

always summer #13

always summer #13: frotting | bungou stray dogs |👿🐯 | #kinktober 🔞| ~1500 words

Atsushi clung to the side of the overturned rowboat, claws dug into the old wood, and laughed. He had avoided getting brained by the oar Akutagawa was wielding, attempting to keep him from overturning the boat trying to climb back into it, but had not, in fact, avoided him overturning the boat.

Contiune on ao3 or:

Akutagawa was clinging to the other side, cursing inventively, and it made Atsushi laugh even harder. “Does Rashomon not work when you’re wet?” Atsushi asked, sides heaving and treading water.

“Do not tempt me, else I send her through your heart, weretiger!”

Atsushi snorted, still snickering audibly. “Sorry.”

“Sorry? Sorry? I told you not to stand upright, and your tiny cat brain apparently doesn’t have the processing power to understand even the smallest concepts--!” Akutagawa cut himself off with a racking cough, and Atsushi’s amusement twinged into worry.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” He didn’t sound fine, coughing again heavily, and Atsushi transitioned from treading water to kicking, heading the capsized boat toward the nearest swatch of dry land, a stretch of sandy dirt tucked away between two enormous old trees. Akutagawa didn’t complain again until his feet touched the ground, and he staggered out of the water, shedding moisture into the air as Rashomon absorbed the liquid saturating his clothes.

Atsushi beached the boat and flipped it, checking where his tiger claws had dug into the hull and making certain he didn’t accidentally penetrate the wood. Akutagawa said nothing, hand over his mouth and watching the muscles tense in Atsushi’s arms when he so casually turned over the heavy, water-logged craft.

“Well, that could have gone better,” Atsushi said, soaked through, ankle-deep in water and hands on his hips. Akutagawa’s ire rose again. “At least we hadn’t caught any fish yet.”

“You are an idiot,” Akutagawa hissed, arms folded. Atsushi rubbed his hand through his dripping wet hair and grinned sheepishly, which only seemed to incense Akutagawa further because his face had pinked significantly.

“Could have been worse,” Atsushi said.

“How?”

“Could have lost the boat.” He nudged the beached craft with his bare foot. “Oh, shoot. Our lunch was in the cooler. That should float, I’ll go get it.”

Before Akutagawa could open his mouth Atsushi splashed back out into the water, swimming almost effortlessly. There were a few bits of detritus floating about, including the cooler with their lunch, and Atsushi dragged back to shore what he could. Akutagawa kicked around the hardscrabble dirt/sand mix and finally found a seat on a downed tree trunk. He scowled as Atsushi splashed out of the water again, holding their recovered items.

“Lunch,” he called gleefully, dropping the cooler just past the water line. He shook his head, spraying water everywhere, and proceeded to drip all over creation as he marched over toward Akutagawa, damp and yet in dry clothing. “Are you sure you’re okay? You were coughing bad, did you inhale water?”

“I cough,” Akutagawa said. “Stop worrying about me and worry about how I’m going to mount your head on a decorative plaque when we return to the cabin instead.”

“You’ll feel better once you eat something,” Atsushi fished a miraculously dry sandwich out of a Ziploc bag in the somehow watertight cooler. He presented the food to Akutagawa, who grudgingly took it, and then stripped out of his damp clothing right in front of him.

Akutagawa held the sandwich with both hands, already forgotten as he stared at Atsushi. “What…what are you doing, weretiger?”

“I’m soaked,” Atsushi complained. “I’ll let my clothes dry in the sun while we eat.”

“That will take hours.”

Atsushi shrugged, spreading his clothing over a branch in the sunlight, completely naked. “What, did you have somewhere else to be?”

He fished a sandwich for himself out of the cooler and then used it as his seat, munching away happily. Akutagawa looked at his own sandwich, and then at Atsushi, before looking away angrily and taking a sullen bite.

Atsushi seemed happily oblivious. Some of what he’d rescued was the fishing poles, and the tackle box—after filling his belly he got to work setting up the poles and casting away from the shore, standing in the water up to mid-thigh and humming as he fished. Akutagawa found other things to look at for a while before he gave up and stared at Atsushi’s behind.

“I can feel you staring at my butt,” Atsushi said, and Akutagawa flushed red angrily. Atsushi looked back over his shoulder at Akutagawa and grinned, happy and open, and…comfortable. He was comfortable, standing there with his back to Akutagawa, humming as he fished, completely vulnerable to any method of attack should Akutagawa choose to end their accords.

Akutagawa swallowed and looked away, but found his eyes drawn back to Atsushi, the sun washing over his shoulders and showing off the muscles in his back. Before he even realized it, Rashomon acted, looping around Atsushi’s waist loosely and tugging him insistently back toward the shore.

“You made me drop my pole,” Atsushi said, one hand wrapped around Rashomon, but untransformed. “This better be good!”

Akutagawa stood and came forward, Rashomon still looped around Atsushi’s hips like a belt. Atsushi raised his eyebrows as Akutagawa looked him up and down, then sighed, audibly, slumping his shoulders. “God damn it,” Akutagawa said, finally, and Rashomon loosened and dissipated.

Atsushi made a noise of confusion, a verbal question mark, and Akutagawa put his palm against the center of Atsushi’s chest, feeling how warm his skin was from standing in the sun, and the strong beat of his heart. Atsushi put his hand over Akutagawa’s, threaded their fingers together, and lifted Akutagawa’s hand to his mouth, brushing his lips over Akutagawa’s knuckles.

“Stupid,” Akutagawa breathed; because he didn’t know what else to say; his other hand flailed to the back of Atsushi’s neck as he was pulled in close, and then they were kissing in the late summer sun.

More time passed than either of them noticed, although Akutagawa had staggered backward, back to his tree trunk and Atsushi had followed, kissing him still hungrily, both hands framing his body and braced on the soft wood of the felled tree.

They didn’t have anything to use for lubrication out here. Akutagawa bit Atsushi’s bottom lip as he drew back slightly, panting audibly, and said, insistently, “so we don’t use lube—”

“Are you kidding, no,” Atsushi said, mouth just barely out of reach of Akutagawa’s. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I don’t fucking care,” Akutagawa groaned, both hands on Atsushi’s hips, fingernails scouring red marks into his skin. “I want it to hurt, I want you to hurt me, please, I need you to—” he tried to follow Atsushi’s head as he jerked it back but couldn’t go that far, held against the tree trunk by the press of Atsushi’s body. “Atsushi.”

“No,” Atsushi said, softly.

Rashomon erupted from Akutagawa’s clothes, tendrils wrapping around his neck and shoulders, but Atsushi didn’t budge. He didn’t even seem to notice the ability constraining him, eyes locked on Akutagawa’s; he slid his hand down Akutagawa’s side, pushing the waistband of his shorts over the sharp jut of his hip. Akutagawa gripped Atsushi’s arm, fingers curled into his biceps as Atsushi freed him from his shorts.

“I’ve got you,” Atsushi said in that same soft tone, stroking Akutagawa slowly. “I’ve got you.”

Bare hip to bare hip, Atsushi’s cock against his, warm hand wrapped around them both, stroking slow and measured. Akutagawa panted, eyes locked on Atsushi, and Atsushi didn’t look away from him.

It was a lot, Atsushi’s weight pressing him into the tree, his hand tight around their cocks, fluid slicking together making each stroke easier; Atsushi’s hips rocked a little and Akutagawa groaned, mouth open.

Atsushi leaned in, but not for a kiss. He breathed against Akutagawa’s ear, “I don’t ever want to hurt you, Ryuunosuke. You deserve better than that.”

Akutagawa let out a small, choked sob, and came all over Atsushi’s hand, his fingernails drawing blood. Atsushi didn’t release him, kept his hand tight around them both but started thrusting his cock into his hand, rubbing through the fluid dripping between them until he pushed over the edge himself, the overspill patterning the dirt between their feet.

He shoved Atsushi with both hands, swallowing hard. “What the fuck, weretiger, you can’t just say shit like that—”

Akutagawa was cut off by Atsushi’s mouth on his, and he gave in immediately and didn’t fight it, kept kissing him until they both were more than breathless, Atsushi’s weight against him more a crutch now because he wasn’t sure he could stay on his feet.

They sat in the hard-packed dirt on the edge of the water, watching the lake ripple and gently wash the shore. Akutagawa’s shorts joined Atsushi’s clothing on the sun-warmed branch, though he at least still had his shirt hanging open on his shoulders.

Akutagawa looked away, arms folded, but then leaned against Atsushi. “That still doesn’t get you off the hook for capsizing the fucking boat,” he said, finally, and Atsushi laughed, sticking his legs straight out so the water washed over his feet.

#bungou stray dogs #kinktober #sskk #shin soukoku #lemony fresh

[sentientsky]

a tiny little ficlet based on this lovely comment from @queer4cryptids on this post! (i accidentally made it angsty, i’m so sorry!! but there’s comfort and gay yearning in there, i swear!) when the night falls low and settles against the side of the Earth; when the the dark begins to carry a certain weight, he shifts his stance. he lets himself breathe air he doesn't really need into lungs that exist simply by virtue of his inclination to breath. it's the same pattern Crowley's watched unfold a hundred million times times over—the stretching of a thread until it frays, three women, a set of blades; a wicked inevitability carried in the lines of time-weathered hands.

and still it never changes, never lessens the welling of grief that builds and breaks in his chest, that stagnates and stratifies like layers of sand upon gravel upon so many eons since he first fell from the sky and lost the right to mourn a woman hungry only for bread and a little kindness.

he leans back against a headstone, swallowing down a familiar hollowness. the sparrows have all taken root in the knots of tree trunks. the moon blinks back at him, clouds swaying like an eyelid closing to sleep.

he turns his face away from the light, sucks in breath for which he still has no need. the rough-hewn granite is going to scuff his coat; he knows this with the certainty of having lived in a world full of serrated edges for so many years. and yet he doesn't care. Crowley can't find it in him to give a damn because finally, finally he's there. he's there and he's real and tangible and it's been eleven months, two weeks, and four days since he's last felt the warmth of angelic skin so close to his own. not that he's been keeping count, of course. and Aziraphale's got that faraway look again. the one pressed into the lines of his face in the aftermath of a flood that tilted against the sky; the same one Crowley saw in the stark daylight of a death warrant unfurled and stamped with the name of the holy Mother herself. it's the same, hollow, teeth-gritted look Crowley himself wore as he stood on a hillside reeking of freshly-cut wood, bearing witness to yet another child of the Almighty thrown to the wolves. Aziraphale turns, then, and blue eyes meet black lenses meet amber-gold. "Crowley—" Aziraphale manages, choking it out in a half-whisper, like it hurts—like it scrapes his throat with bits of barbed wire. and, just like that, something in him is breaking and the oak trees are all whispering dangerous things and still, still he can't find a version of this story in which he doesn't lean closer, doesn't press himself forward into air that smells of earl grey tea and old books and something celestial and hallowed and holy underneath it all. and as though he's drowning—as though the moon doesn't watch them with a flickering gaze and the trees can't hear the brush of skin meeting skin—Aziraphale presses his fingertips to the side of Crowley's wrist. he moves no further. the air holds still, time seeming to freeze around them. it's intentional, he realizes; it's fire and it's heat and it's utterly fucking terrifying. even now, so far above ground, Crowley can nearly feel the weight of hellish eyes on his back. a shudder runs the length of his body. and yet. in the atomic space of that hungry, desperate, throat-baring yet, he turns his hand, trembling, to the side. he finds the angel's touch like a bird bearing North—like a compass forever calibrated to a single, fixed point.

"I know—" he rasps. “Angel, I know.” he twines his fingers with Aziraphale's, and it's positively electric. every cell in his tragically, wonderfully human body has turned pure gold, conducted and galvanized and sparking. a sharp, stilted inhale; a quiet anticipation carved out in the space between their pressed hands (and palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss...). the graveyard is still. the grief is there, still. the grief might always be there. but the sharp edges dull, the welling in his chest grows steady and slow and gentle. and the world becomes a little less difficult to bear with the two of them holding it up.

#WOAH THIS GOT OUT OF HAND (pun not intended but hehe). this was supposed to be little but then i kept thinking of stuff to add #thank u for the prompt!!! it was rly fun to write hehe!! #i have a couple papers due rly soon so i probably won't get around to tackling the other prompt for a few days. but it's coming!! dw lol! #might throw this one up on ao3 idk lol. i'd have to properly edit it tho instead of just word barfing onto the page afjldjasjsalkd #also ik this was supposed to be cute and fluffy but i apparently have this ability to take anything meant to be adorable and make it angsty #good fucking night heheheh i'm going to SLEEP #good omens #crowley #ineffable husbands #good omens 2 #aziracrow #aziraphale #go2 #ineffable lovers #ineffable wives #good omens season 2 #gomens #gomens 2 #aziraphale x crowley #good omens ficlet #good omens fic #gomens fic #good omens fanfiction #good omens poetry #my words #wren writes crow #good omens 2 ficlet #david tennant #michael sheen #crowley x aziraphale

[officialparentofadrien]

𝑲𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒎𝒊 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂 𝒄𝒓𝒖𝒔𝒉 𝒐𝒏 𝑳𝒊𝒇𝒆𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒓𝒅! 𝑭𝒆𝒎 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

Just watched Baywatch again and OMG C.J. is SO PRETTY I got so inspired and remembered that Kagami surfs so here you go. This is set after the Vorpal Swords movie by the way. I was listening to "Accidentally In Love" by Counting Crows (Yes from the Shrek movie it slaps) because I just feel the vibe fits this idea so much <3 Or No Lie by Dua Lipa and Sean Paul works too <3

Pairing: Kagami Taiga x Fem Reader Warnings: Curse words Genre: Fluff. Might get suggestive idk.

The beaches of California especially Los Angeles were always crowded. Whether that's on weekdays and most especially on weekends and holidays. The white sand beaches were always filled with portable lounge chairs, towels, umbrellas, and sunbathing people of all ages.

And most of all, It was Kagami's favourite place to be after coming back to America earlier that year. Whenever he wasn't at school or playing basketball, he would be surfing the waves at the local beach. No better way to spend your free time than going against big ass waves that could potentially swallow you whole and drag you down to the deepest depths of the ocean. If you had to ask him about his favourite beach? Definitely Malibu. Not only are the waves large enough that you can surf but also because you're there. The attractive and beautiful lifeguard. You were also a student, like him from what he's heard and you're only a part-timer there. But my oh my did he love seeing you.

He actually thought of pretending to drown but he knew that he wouldn't be able to convince you especially after you just saw how agile he is even in the water, even complimenting his surfing skills!

Kagami knew that if he wanted to take you out on a date, he would have to do it the classic way.

It was Saturday and he didn't have practice. He decided to catch a bus to go to the beach and catch some waves, trying to convince himself that it was just because he wants to surf even if he knows, deep down, that a huge factor of why he actually wanted to go is because he wanted to see you. He hopped off the bus and inhaled the scent of the seaside, the sounds of the waves and the chatter of the locals and tourists. He dropped off his bag somewhere he could see it and slipped his shirt off. The redhead looked around and to your usual post if you were there, but he couldn't see you anywhere. He sighed but decided to go on with his plans anyway.

“Hey, Cassanova~! Lookin’ for name?” f/bf teased as she passed by him, making the redhead roll his eyes.

f/bf had known about his (not so) little crush on you for AGES. She never failed to notice how Kagami’s gaze would linger a little longer on your figure or how he would instinctively search the beach for you and sigh in disappointment once he realizes you were not there. And she also never failed to tease him about it in your absence. 

“Get out of my hair.” He said, his face heating up as he grabbed his surfboard to go catch some waves.

It was f/bf’s turn to roll her eyes as she watched him jog over to the water. She was so so tired of playing middle-woman between the two of you. She’s been watching you two ogle at each other for MONTHS and you still haven’t gotten past the small, fleeting talks. 

Meanwhile, you were actually supposed to be on the beach. But traffic caught you on the way and thankfully, you didn’t have to worry about your superiors yelling at you because you had informed them ahead of time. Once you arrived, you jogged to the locker rooms and hurriedly changed into your swimsuit before sprinting to your post. 

“I’m so sorry I was late, Jeana!” You said to your coworker, with who you would exchange shifts. She smiled in understanding,

“It’s okay! No biggie~” She said before you watched her form disappear.

You took your place and monitored the beach. Your shift was gonna be a little longer today. It wasn’t too hot that you were sweating like a sinner in church but not too cold that your lips would turn blue. It was a bit windy though and the tides were a bit higher than usual but thankfully, most visitors were professional swimmers, athletes, and surfers. But it was still your job to make sure that they will only be leaving the beach with good and happy memories. You had to stand up a few times since there were still kids that underestimated the tide but thankfully, they were all fine. 

A few hours into your shift, your best friend’s voice was heard as she slid next to you, handing you your favourite snack and a cold drink. “Guess who I saw today~?”

You scoffed playfully, “That British Girl you’ve been flirting with since she arrived?”

F/bf gasped, hitting your arm, “Gosh no! I wish... But not the point! I saw Taiga today!” She said excitedly, knowing your not-so-secret crush on the basketball player.

Your figure visibly lightened up, eyes started to twinkle. This didn’t go unnoticed by the girl next to you as she smirked, “12 o’clock,” She said suddenly, catching your attention.

You became alert, thinking that your friend was pertaining to an emergency, a drowning person maybe as you stood up abruptly, grabbing your binoculars and trying to look in that direction.

“I didn’t know you were that eager to see him.” f/bf whispered next to you as you removed the binoculars and came face to face with Kagami’s figure rising from the waters, his surfboard held in one arm and pressed against his hips as water droplets ran on his body, just meters away from you.

“Oh,” You muttered absentmindedly. 

Your gaze lingered longer than it should as you watched him take a towel to dry himself with.

“You should probably go ask him out. Your shift’s ending in…right now actually. Ask him to go grab a bite to eat with you.” f/bf encouraged you.

You looked at her, then back to Kagami, then back to her again before you looked at the clock. She was right. Your shift’s over. You thanked her before you went and jogged towards the basketball player, feeling your heart hammer in your chest as you got closer to him.

His back was facing you so he didn’t see you coming, but he did sense a presence behind him. He turned to look at you, expecting your menace of a friend but his eyes met yours. You were smiling so sweetly at him, your hair already a little dry but still a little wet, clad in your lifeguard uniform.

“Hey,” You greeted him, grinning in his direction. 

“Hey..”

You giggled at his awkwardness, finding it adorable. “So my shift’s over… And I was wondering if you wanted to get a bite to eat. My treat. Like…a date,” 

Kagami’s mouth hung open as his gaze flicked to your previous post, seeing your best friend holding a thumbs-up with a grin on her face. 

His lips curled upwards, face heating up as he nodded, “Sure yeah. I’d love that.” 

You perked up, smile widening as you said, “Great! I’ll just change out of my swimsuit and we can go.” Kagami nodded as he watched you skip over to the locker room, with your best friend high-fiving you on the way. He couldn’t help but feel giddy. He just couldn’t believe it! He was gonna go out with his crush, from the beach! He honestly thought you were out of his league. 

But now? Sitting across you at a local diner that serves THE BEST burgers in town? Maybe he did have a chance with you after all. You did ask him out. 

𝑴𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

𝑲𝑵𝑩 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

#knb #kuroko no basket #kagami taiga #kagami taiga x reader #kagami taiga x y/n #kagami taiga x fem reader #knb x reader #Seirin x Reader

[canofspooks]

DannyMay Day 30 (Post-Reveal)

Summary: Phantom reveal goes wrong, and now Danny has to deal with the aftermath.

Words: 1057

Danny flicked the lighter once. Twice. By the third time, he felt like an idiot for not knowing how to use a lighter. Finally, after what felt like the hundredth time trying to get it to work, a small flame sparked to life. He held the flame close to the bowl of sage until it started burning, and leaned over the smoke so that it could reach his aching fangs.

He coughed a few times as he accidentally inhaled some. Numbing the pain from his fangs was a skill, and one he'd hopefully not have to master before the growing pains settled on their own. If this was a beaver situation where the teeth never stopped growing, he'd sooner pull them out than deal with this for the rest of his life.

The thing about sage that nobody told him - granted, nobody told him anything, really - was how much it numbed everything. His throat, his face, his hands - everything that touched the smoke was coated in an uncomfortable feeling of pins and needles. Uncomfortable, but still far better than painful. One of his ears suddenly felt like they were underwater, and he snapped a few times next to it just to confirm. Oh, lovely, the smoke had completely dull his sense of hearing, as well. Danny resigned himself to spending the next several hours completely out of it, and poured water into the bowl to douse the small flames.

With that done, he looked up from his work, and found his bedroom door open. And standing there, mouth agape, was the hulking form of Jack Fenton.

With only one ear working and half of his body feeling like he was covered in pins, it was the best Danny could do to stumble backwards. Every motion was like swimming through sand. His father shouted something to his mother in the other room. Danny replied - his mouth didn't feel like it was moving. He dropped the ghost form, tried explaining to his parents that it was him. It was Danny, their boy, not some ghostly imitation.

His father's expression only worsened, shock turning to hate as the man aimed a weapon at his own son. The shapes were getting even fuzzier now. His actions less his own.

Then Danny woke up in a room that wasn't his. Jolted up, more like. His heart raced. His skin was clammy and covered in sweat. Danny gripped the sheets and curled in on himself, burying his face in his knees.

It was just a nightmare. He wasn't really being shot at by his own parents.

No, because it had already happened. And now he was living in a different kind of nightmare. The one where the only person he could turn to was the very person he'd once considered an enemy. A part of him wished there hadn't been anyone to take him in, that Vlad had turned him away at the door. But Vlad wasn't a supernatural embodiment of evil who subsisted only on the misery of others, much as Danny might like to think it. He was a guy. A nutty, older guy who when push came to shove, abandoned all the theatrics the minute Danny showed up at his door covered in burns and blood.

Danny didn't deserve his help. He deserved to wander the Ghost Zone until he was nothing but Phantom, or until some actual embodiment of evil decided to put him out of his misery. Maybe more the latter than the former, because he was getting tired of being stuck as Phantom.

In the dark room, he could easily see the dull glow of his spectral form. He wondered how much longer it would last. If Phantom hadn't dissipated when he was bone-tired from the exhaustion of the fight, or the many sleepless nights that followed, who was to say he would ever go back to being Danny Fenton again? He sure didn't feel like Fenton, with the hollow ache clawing at his chest. Fenton wouldn't have even had the chance to be responsible for this mess. Fenton got killed, and replaced with a monster, just like his dad claimed. Didn't feel like Phantom, either. The charismatic hero wouldn't be knocked out of action for days on end because of something like this. Phantom had fought ghosts that were practically gods!

No, instead he was something different. Less than Phantom, worse than Fenton. He was just Danny, and Danny didn't know what to do from here.

The morning came and went as they had for the last few days. Danny stayed in bed until the guilt of leeching off his host forced him to trudge out into the kitchen at noon to at least prove to Vlad that he hadn't died just yet. Vlad insisted he try to eat a piece of toast, which he sat and picked at for what felt like hours. He could feel Vlad's gaze on him the entire time, the older man too awkward to make smalltalk, and Danny not in the mood to strike up a conversation either.

The feeling of someone else in the room was nice, at least.

Finally, after the dead silence had made even the sounds of the TV unwelcome, Vlad sat down across from Danny. The man cleared his throat.

"Jasmine is going to be here on Wednesday," he started.

Danny made a noise in the back of his throat that might've sounded like "oh" if he tried a little harder.

"I'm glad she was able to take time off from school, I think it'll be good to have her here. It's been a while since she last visited, hasn't it?"

This time, Danny put marginally more effort into responding. "Yeah."

"Hard to find the time to visit with the course load she's taking. At least she got some accommodations, given the circumstances. If not, that college would've gotten more than just strongly-worded complaints." Vlad was waiting for some reaction, Danny knew. He mustered up a half-smile, which must've come out wrong because Vlad only looked more concerned.

"I need to pick something up from the store, do you want to come with me?" Vlad offered.

Danny shook his head, continuing to pick at the toast.

"Alright, I'll be back soon." Vlad hesitated, but turned and left. Leaving Danny alone in the empty, quiet house.

#danny phantom #dannymay2023 #spooks reign of terror

[tommarvoloriddlesdiary]

Harry inhaled a deep, full breath of saltwater air.

The night was in full swing, and, really, Percy had outdone himself. Harry had no idea Ron’s brother was such a natural at decor, but he truly had an eye for it. When Hermione entered the hall earlier to take in the anticipated damage, it took a good fifteen minutes to help coax her jaw off the floor.

Though, in her defence, Harry supposed it was rather important that the bride-to-be loved her wedding venue.

When Ron finally popped the question, and it was time to get into the nitty-gritty of planning, he and Hermione couldn’t sit down and settle on a colour palette to save their lives. For starters, Hermione never had enough time. Harry thought she was far too busy as Head of the Department of International Magical Co-operation to even get married. And he’d seen her one too many times hunched over a two-way parchment, no doubt responding to countless questions or confirmation of approvals for tens (Harry wouldn’t dare flirt with the idea of hundreds) of documents while getting ready this morning.

On the other hand, Ron wasn’t too pressed, which was quite a shock considering his no less prominent position as Head Auror. When Harry questioned why that was, Ron had simply shrugged and confessed to putting a twenty-four-hour block on all owls and Ministry correspondence. He’d looked Harry dead in the eye and said, “It’s my damn wedding, mate. I’m marrying the woman of my dreams—no emergency is important enough. Not today.” And, well, Harry could hardly blame him for that.

Still, the intricacies of wedding planning were something that definitely seemed to elude both of Harry’s very bright, very in-love friends. Hermione had gone as far as to ask if pink was a poor choice in colour because, “Well… Pink is a cheesy romantic colour… right?” But when pressed to pick a shade, she nearly drove herself to an early grave sifting through swatches. Needless to say, Harry never wanted to see another shade of pink ever again.

Ron seemed baffled by the idea of weddings needing colour to begin with, “Isn’t everything meant to be white?”

When Percy had overheard that comment halfway through the floo, he stepped right back out of it, threw his robe on the Burrow table, and promptly declared that he would be the one to oversee Hermione and Ron’s wedding arrangements.

This led to the tasteful shades of navy blue, ivory, and gold all throughout the carefully selected venue. The building sat on a charming little border coast in a shared wizarding sect of England and Wales. Its interior had ample space for more than a few tables, each thoughtfully adorned with magical flowers that shook every so often to release a soft shimmer in the air and all the accompanying tableware to hint at a fine meal planned. Throughout the day, the airy floor-to-ceiling windows and welcoming French doors (that led out to a beautiful patio similarly decorated and had a spectacular ocean view) had ample light shining into the venue. And now that night had come, the soft glow of bluebell flames and their warm amber counterparts lit an all too inviting path out to the sandy shore.

Harry had been standing in the sand, watching Ron and Hermione laugh and clumsily sway back ‘n forth, her head pressed against his, when a sudden weight on Harry’s shoulder made him flinch.

Harry turned only to come face to face with someone he’d never met. But that hadn’t been unusual today. Harry was accidentally designated the bride and groom’s bloodhound. If you found Harry, you found Ron and Hermione. He seemed to have a keen sense of where they were at all times, and word spread quickly. As the evening was slowly but surely ending, and people were determined to wish well and congratulate the happy couple for a final time, Harry was in high demand.

He wouldn’t lie, it was a little awkward meeting so many new people. Hermione and Ron may be Harry’s best friends, but they certainly didn’t share his content with just having each other. They were social butterflies in a way Harry would never entirely be, and Merlin, it was impressive. He’d thought Bill and Fleur’s wedding was big.

So, the unknown face was expected; what wasn’t expected was what the unknown face said, “Mr Potter. It’s a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance. Ms Granger has told me a great deal about you, and though she intended to introduce us earlier, I couldn’t bring myself to disrupt her happy day.”

“It’s Granger-Weasley, now.” Harry couldn’t help himself; a slight grin tugged at his face. He had been waiting for today just as long, after all, and he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to milk it for all it’s worth.

Mr Unknown hadn’t thought to introduce himself, though he clearly knew Harry well enough to pick him out of a crowd. The man had a classically handsome face, with the most ridiculously charming swooping curl of hair that hung just so over his forehead and warm mahogany eyes that glowed like dying—wow, how many glasses of champagne did Harry have today?

Harry continued, “And um, I’m sorry. Please don’t take this the wrong way. I have no idea who you are,” and immediately regretted it. Way to go, scarhead; you’ve just blown this to hell and back.

But Mr Unknown didn’t storm off all offended and pretentious like his pretty face and careful words implied he might. Instead, he simply laughed (and damn, it was a nice laugh) and said, “Of course, Ms Granger-Weasley. And that’s quite all right; she mentioned that you weren’t very involved in Ministry affairs.” Mr still Unknown held out his hand, “My name is Tom Riddle, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister.”

Harry’s brows inched up and up until he was sure they’d left his face and were floating to join the stars. He switched his drink to his other hand and carefully took Riddle’s, despairing at the cold touch he no doubt passed from the chilled champagne glass.

Tom Riddle. Hermione had mentioned him more times than Harry could count. Sometimes in angry mutters under her breath, but more often as a person she strongly thought Harry should become acquainted with. Something about similar backgrounds and similar odd senses of humour and, “Really, Harry. I have eyes. He’s goddamn good-looking, and I think you two are a perfect match.”

However, Harry was nothing if not stubborn and did his damnedest to avoid a dreaded introduction at all costs. He wasn’t looking for a relationship.

Right?

Suddenly, Harry couldn’t quite remember.

“Yes, yeah, Undersecretary Riddle.” Harry nodded, maybe a little too fast, “A pleasure. Hermione has mentioned you. I didn’t know you two were close?”

Actually… Harry used his every last sober brain cells—brain cell—to think. They weren’t close, he was pretty sure, and it was odd that Hermione would invite a random (let’s be honest, coworker) to her wedding. Especially one she didn’t necessarily have a great working relationship with.

Harry remembered how strict she was with picking invites for colleagues versus friends and family. She had developed a very efficient system of columns and rows from people I work with and would like to have in attendance to people I work with that need an invitation for politically advantageous reasons all the way to people I work with, who, if I see at my wedding, there will be blood. Harry thought it was pretty solid. And Tom Riddle hadn’t made any of the lists, last he checked.

Then it dawned on Harry that Riddle’s missing name was most likely intentional. He had been bamboozled. If Hermione weren’t looking the happiest he’d ever seen her (and that included her absolutely ecstatic reaction to her N.E.W.T.s), Harry would tackle her to the ground in an all-out brawl. Muggle style.

“We’ve had an accommodating and understanding working relationship over the years,” Riddle responded. And Harry knew enough political jargon translation to hear that we barely tolerate each other, but somehow a grudging respect remains, loud and clear. “I certainly hope good words were exchanged.”

Good words? Harry wanted to cry. If good words were a desperate attempt to get Harry into Riddle’s pants, then, yes, good words—great words, even—were exchanged.

Harry downed a bit more champagne for his suddenly parched and dry throat, “Well, you know Hermione.” His laughter was a touch strained, “When she gets started, it’s a full-on report. Everything from a to z.” Oh no… “Hope she didn’t say anything too embarrassing about me.”

Riddle nodded with an air of wry understanding, “Yes. Rest assured; Ms Granger-Weasley did not give me your entire life story.” Harry couldn’t believe Riddle was going to continue saying Hermione’s name like that, but hearing it gave him a warm and fuzzy feeling. “I have wanted to meet you for quite some time. Outside of just her influence.”

What? Harry thought.

So, “What?” Harry said.

Riddle’s eyes widened for a moment, and he blinked once as though caught off guard by himself. Which, Harry thought, was pretty unfair because no one should be more caught off guard than Harry right now. Riddle quickly corrected his slip and diligently started to backpedal his way out of what he’d just said, “What I mean by that is, I’ve been a long-time fan- admir- or, I suppose, supporter. Of yours.”

Riddle was not doing a very good job explaining himself. And, Harry had a feeling, judging by the flustered fluttering of Riddle’s now rapidly blinking eyelashes, that Riddle wasn’t too used to not explaining himself well. He continued, “Not in any untoward way, of course. Merely, your research into Death and its adjacent forms, magic or otherwise, and your published findings in the scientific journals as well as your extensive work into broadening wixen understanding of Defensive Magic along with your tenure as Hogwarts’ Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor are astoundingly impressive.”

By the end of Riddle’s explanation, he’s nearly panting and out of breath. Hell, Harry’s breathless too, but probably for different reasons.

Not too many people acknowledged Harry’s…odd hobbies. But, honestly, it was kind of nice. Everyone hated to talk about Death and its use in magic and how it generally affected wixen at large. The only people he could happily pull into a conversation about it were the Unspeakables in the Death Chamber, but even then, it was a small pool to pick from. And Harry didn’t get access to Level Nine often.

Don’t get him wrong, people reached out to Harry regarding his Defense work, and that was all fine and well, but it was his job. Mostly. Yeah, he put in a few extra hours, and he did like his job, of course, but Death magic was definitely his passion project. So as much as he enjoyed talking shop about Defense, the pure excitement he felt delving into his other known pursuit was unparalleled.

He managed a small “Oh,” before a shout of his name pulled his attention.

“Harry! Mate! Come over here and help me throw my wife into the ocean!” Ron yelled out, laughing and holding Hermione by the waist as she desperately tried to break out of his grip.

“Harry James Potter, if you even dare—“ Hermione broke her threat with a started scream when Ron picked her up and spun her in a dizzying circle.

Harry sighed and shook his head, a smile wide and pleased taking over his face. His eyes strayed back to Riddle, who was watching him with rapt attention. “Mr Potter, you are understandably occupied. It is an important day for your friends and family, and I wouldn’t want to keep you,” Riddle didn’t seem like he meant that. He looked like he didn’t care at all about the day or time or place or anything. Harry felt himself turning red at the realisation that he wouldn’t mind spending the remainder of the night talking with the very handsome Undersecretary Tom Riddle, either.

“However, I’d like to continue our conversation if you’re amenable. Perhaps you’d allow me to owl you...,” Riddle suggested, trailing off deliberately.

Harry was nodding before Riddle was even done speaking. “Absolutely,” Harry said, “Please do.”

Riddle’s answering smile could hang the moon and the sun and all the other stars. “It’s settled, then. Have a pleasant evening, Mr Potter. And please give my regards to the bride and groom.”

Harry stuttered his way through a similar goodbye and watched Riddle return inside the venue and meander to the designated apparition point. Harry caught himself sighing wistfully and wanted someone to slap him. What was he doing acting like a love-sick teenager for a man he’d just met?

Hermione’s giggle in his ear warned him with enough time not to flinch as her head gently rested against his shoulder. Her arm slipped around his waist as Ron appeared at his other side and copied the gesture around Harry’s back. Ron’s head knocked Harry’s own as the three of them settled into a familiar hug.

“Soo, Harry,” Hermione started. She was clearly drunker than ever, but her brain was still sharp as a tack. “That was totally Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic, Tom Marvolo Riddle, that you were chatting to for an awfully long time. Anything you wish to share with the class?”

Ron made a confused sound, “Wait. That was Riddle? Bloody hell, I hardly recognised him without that stick up his ass.” Ron sounded significantly less drunk, and Harry was nearly impressed.

Hermione scoffed delightedly, “Ron! You can’t say that about the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic, Tom Marvolo Riddle; the sand has ears, shhh.”

“Guys,” Harry sighed, “He was just being nice because you—“ Harry side-eyed Hermione’s far too innocent face, “forced him to chat me up and have been an absolute menace about getting us together for ages now.”

“Sue me for trying to get you an advantageous match, Harry.”

“This isn’t the eighteen hundreds, and you aren’t my ma’-ma set on finding me a diamond of the first water, Hermione.”

“What’s a diamond of the first water?”

“He means a hot debutant ready to be wed, Ron; keep up.” Poor Ron had never looked more confused. “And I know, Harry, but you’ve just spoken with him, right? So you’ve gotta see what I’ve been saying after all…” Hermione swung her free arm up and down in a sort of squiggly line, “that.”

Harry hated that she was absolutely right. And he wouldn’t have ever believed her before actually meeting Riddle like this. But, “Like I said, he’s just being nice. He offered to owl me. But I doubt he’ll follow through.” There was no chance in hell that someone with Riddle’s face and Riddle’s connections and Riddle’s position in the ministry would seriously be interested in someone like Harry.

Hermione lifted her head and looked at Harry very deliberately. She slowly combed over his expression, lingered on his eyes for a while, and frowned, “You really think that.”

Ron moved and patted Harry on the back. “Listen, mate. I don’t know anything about water diamonds or debutants or whatever it is that you two are going on about with Riddle,” He started walking into the venue backwards, arms held out wide as he continued, “But! I do know that whoever you were standing over here and talking with was not the notorious ministry hardass to the Minister. That bloke definitely had the hots for you.”

Hermione whooped, “That’s my husband!” And as soon as the words left her mouth, Ron’s eyes got all soft and watery like they did during the big reveal, the ceremony, the ring exchange, the magical vow, the—like they did all day, really. She trailed after him, and they walked back in together, their broad smiles lighting up the night far brighter than any of the bell flames.

Harry chuckled to himself as he followed them in. Who cared about anything else right now? All that mattered was his two best friends, happy, hand in hand, glowing like stars in the sky.

He’d worry about Riddle tomorrow.

#tomarry #tomarrymort #pov: harry #2.7k words #my fic #oops my hand slipped #happy harrytine's day #someone should have stopped me

[can-of-lizards]

Make it Worthwhile

Fandom: My Time At Sandrock

Stev x builder

CW: smut

I disappear and this is what I offer when I come back? I’m hopeless. This is my first time writing smut and it just HAS to be of an insignificant character that barely shows up. What is wrong with me. Anyway touch starvation and enthusiastic consent and safe words for the win yaaayy!!

“A jacuzzi?”

Shiloh looks between the two men, trying to gauge the seriousness of such a request. Yan seems rife with enthusiasm, a giant grin plastered on his face as the stone-faced commander Lefu stands just a teensy bit too close to him; a subtle threat to bodily harm, no doubt. Shiloh suspects most of his eagerness is to appease the taller man’s wrath.

“That’s right, newbie!” Yan chuckles a little nervously. “a brand new jacuzzi for our esteemed leader! A great opportunity to show off your skills as a builder!”

Shiloh gives him a flat look, and her eyes flit back and forth between the commissioner and the commander. There is no discernible emotion on the captain’s face, on account of his admittedly cool mask, but somehow the builder can still tell he’s…giddy.

She assumes she has no choice in the matter; she’d rather not be executed or something like that.

“Alright,” she shrugs, “let me out of here.”

She looks back at Justice, Unsuur, Captain, and Cooper, giving a slightly wary thumbs up. As Yan fiddles with the keys and throws the jail door open, Shiloh can’t help but notice the soldier standing off to the side, looking bored. She steps out, and Commander Lefu flippantly raises his hand in a gesture towards her.

“Keep an eye on her,” he addresses the soldier, “she seems a fair bit more competent than this fool.”

Yan sputters, but follows after the commander like an obedient dog. Fucking idiot, Shiloh thinks, and rolls her eyes. Aiming her attention at the soldier who is only a tad bit taller than her (what a surprise, usually she’s a foot below everyone, at least), she crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow.

“And you are?”

“Uh…hey there. I’m Stev. I’m going to be kind of like your…warden? I’ll just be hanging around, making sure you don’t do anything that would, uh, jeopardize our whole mission.”

He seems awkward, but in kind of an endearing way, she guesses. She squints at him.

“Hm. Okay.”

Shiloh doesn’t really have it in her to object to anything at this point. Better to just go with the flow than risk getting her ass kicked. Still, she takes the lead, walking out of the civil corps building with all of the annoyance of a builder who hasn’t slept in three days.

She knows she’s a fast walker, and she revels in the fact that Stev has to put in effort to follow her. She smirks as he stumbles behind her, and by the time they make it to her workshop, he’s almost out of breath.

“So, Stev…” she starts, sounding curious, “what’s it like in Duvos?”

He inhales sharply, clutching his chest.

“Um…pretty dark? And very…muggy.” He says, pulling a distasteful face. Shiloh hums, rummaging through one of her chests for the materials she needs. A jacuzzi is far from hard to build, but it’s always a pain finding what she needs.

“I hear there’s a lot of smog. Do you enjoy living there?” She asks.

He almost immediately shakes his head, which doesn’t surprise her in the slightest. It’s a little hard not to feel bad for all the Duvos soldiers who have no say in where they live.

“It’s not exactly pleasant. I’ve been a soldier since I was…fifteen? Sixteen? So my life hasn’t been much more than drills and sloppy food.”

Ouch. That admittedly is like a punch in the gut to hear. Since he was fifteen?

“And…how old are you now?” She asks hesitantly, tossing a couple miscellaneous parts to the side and groaning frustratedly.

“Thirty two,” he says casually, kicking the sand.

Shiloh nearly gapes at him, and accidentally pokes herself on a piece of sharp metal. Ow.

Thirty two…seventeen years of harsh labor and strict regimens. She can’t imagine living a life like that. For as long as she can remember, she’s wanted to be a builder. To do her own thing, to build things with care and attention and be free to take the commissions she wants—to have her own schedule. How in the world did he survive?

Does he have a family? Does he get to visit them at all? Or did he even have the chance to meet someone and develop a relationship before being thrust into a life of service?

Shiloh also can’t imagine how touch-starved the guy probably is. She has a hard time believing she could go a week without some action of some kind. She hopes he at least has the chance every once in a while to jerk off.

“Wow…that’s rough. I’m sorry, dude.”

She really is, and she tries to sound as genuine as possible. Stev shrugs, and hunches his shoulders a bit.

“It’s alright.” His accent grows a little thicker as his voice lowers.

“You got a family? Wife? Kids?” Shiloh knows she’s probably digging the knife in by asking, but she’s really praying for a somewhat hopeful answer. Stev shuffles awkwardly, seemingly growing more uncomfortable the longer this conversation goes on.

“I’m afraid not. My mother died while I was on duty and I never knew my father. Never had the time to meet a woman, either.”

Shiloh sighs. She’s not sure if it’ll bring any comfort, but she approaches him and pats him on the shoulder—he tenses under her touch, and Shiloh withdraws as if burned.

“Sorry. My bad.”

“N-No, it’s fine,” he says hurriedly, putting his palms up, “it’s fine, really.”

Shiloh smiles kindly at him, and she can tell he tries to return it, however strained it appears.

——

She tries to let the interaction go after that, but it proves more difficult than expected. How is she supposed to move on from that? Despite never being involved in the man’s life up until now, she still feels strangely…guilty. Like she wants to help, but knows there’s very little she can actually do. Her attempts to ward away the memory of him tensing under her hand are futile, and as she works diligently on the not-so-fancy-but-adequate jacuzzi, she worries her lip until it’s sore.

“Are you almost finished?” Stev calls from the sidelines of her work station. He sounds mildly concerned—has it really been that long since she started?

Standing and wiping her brow, she checks the time. Apparently two hours have passed. She gives a thumbs up to Stev and tries to reassure him.

“Nearly done. Don’t worry too much about getting in trouble, I’ll just tell the commander it took me long because I was making it extra special or some bullshit.” She sighs. She knows he’ll fall for it too, dumb bastard. Higher ups are always too far up their own asses to think much. Stev gives his own meager thumbs up, smiling.

Man. He’s kinda cute.

Shiloh shakes her head, mentally berating herself.

And he’s a Duvos soldier, who is currently only with her so he can prevent her from escaping or causing trouble. But she doubts he could really do much if she really wanted to escape—Shiloh is almost certainly more trained in combat than him; she beat Pen for Peach’s sake.

It isn’t like it’s his choice to be here, either. He’s stuck—in his living situation, in his job, in his whole existence. It must be really lonely. Despite the little voice in the back of her brain telling her it’s a bad idea, she can’t help but think maybe, just maybe, she can help out a bit.

Make his trip to Sandrock worthwhile.

As she turns back to her project, she pauses, and spins around on her heels to face Stev again. The man looks slightly surprised to see her staring at him. It must be disconcerting, considering she’s currently having a mental battle.

Don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t say it.

Come on, he hasn’t touched a woman a day in his life, give him something to experience! There’s no guarantee he’ll like it, but whatever, hell broke loose and Duvos has just taken over the town, how strange would it be to make out with a man she barely knows?

Strange. The answer is very fucking strange.

But it can’t hurt to ask, right? It’s not as if she’ll ever see him again after this whole fiasco.

Don’t do it, it’ll only end in embarrassment.

“Do you wanna kiss me?” She says.

Damnit.

Shiloh can’t see his eyes behind his goggles, but Stev’s eyebrows furrow and he stutters, growing very flustered.

“Wh—What?!” In five seconds flat, his face has grown as red as a tomato. Shiloh takes a step forward, and he takes one large step back.

“You might as well!” Shiloh says. “When are you ever gonna get another chance like this? To experiment, to feel what it’s like, to touch someone! I know you’re curious.”

His earlier reaction to her touch told her that much. He holds his hands up, as if she’s going to pounce on him or something. She almost laughs at the mental image that brings up.

“I will get in severe trouble!” He exclaims. “I cannot—not while I’m on duty—“

“When are you ever not on duty? When you’re sleeping? This is your whole life, man! Serving a tyrannical country and not having any down time.”

This is starting to feel like a negotiation, which in hindsight is pretty funny; but Shiloh’s determined to bring him some sort of satisfaction. Some sort of pleasure, some sort of happiness. Because there is no way he’s happy.

Stev’s stance visibly slackens at her words—crap, was she too harsh? Did she accidentally make him realize how shit his life was, when he might’ve been perfectly content living in denial? Fuck, she should—

“I shouldn’t. I can’t.” His face is still burning, and his voice is resigned, but Shiloh can tell there’s a bit of desire there. Maybe she can still convince him.

“I won’t push you to do anything you don’t want to,” she says, “I just don’t think it’s fair, the cards you’ve been dealt. You should be able to live a little.”

She shrugs, and backpedals to her work station, tinkering with the jacuzzi some more while keeping a subtle eye on Stev as the gears turn in his head. The two of them are dead silent for a few minutes, Shiloh stalling her work for as long as she can while Stev stands awkwardly.

She’s vaguely aware of the man approaching from her right, before she’s suddenly spun around. She barely has time to prepare herself before his lips clash clumsily onto hers, and he leans in almost desperately; like she’ll pull away at any moment and declare it all a cruel joke.

It is…not the best. But she wasn’t expecting anything phenomenal. Stev obviously doesn’t know what to do with his hands, because they kinda just hang awkwardly at his sides as he drools all over her. Shiloh quickly takes control of the situation, taking his hands and placing one on her hip and the other on her cheek. She deepens the kiss for a moment before having to practically peel the man away to catch her breath.

“Breathe, Stev,” Shiloh laughs.

The man’s face is flushed, and he clears his throat.

“Right. Sorry.”

He starts to pull away, seemingly thinking that was it. But Shiloh isn’t opposed to giving him more. She pulls him back, kissing him softly this time so he can savor it. Her mouth does most of the work, yet he tries his best to make an effort. His hand trails down to the small of her back, and down even further to the rounding of flesh there. He makes a small, surprised noise at the back of his throat and lifts his hand away.

“S-Sorry—“ he says between kisses, and Shiloh quickly shut him up. She directs his hand back to her ass, insisting he keep it there.

Their bodies fit together like puzzle pieces, slotting into place as Shiloh encourages him to touch her wherever he pleases. She moans as he goes to cup one of her breasts, kneading and groping like, well, a touch-starved soldier. She nearly trips off the edge of her work station when the man pushes her back—thankfully they both end up safely on the ground.

Eventually they separate again, but Stev never stops touching her. His hands are everywhere, squeezing and roaming, and Shiloh wouldn’t have it any other way. She leads him behind the workshop, giggling as she pins him against the wall and kisses him once again, hands on his cheeks. He’s trembling, and Shiloh draws back to look at him.

“Relax,” she soothes, “let me take the lead. You don’t have to worry about a thing. Say ‘yakmel’ if you need me to stop, okay?”

Stev nods, breathless. Shiloh doesn’t even have to look to know he’s hard—she reaches down and rubs his bulge, making him squirm. He wantonly grabs her face, slamming his lips onto hers and accidentally clacking their teeth together.

“Ow,” they say in unison. Shiloh laughs airily as Stev looks ready to die of embarrassment. The builder kisses him softly before he can call the whole thing off, showing him just how unaffected she is by his inexperience. He practically melts in the palm of her hand, wiggling as she paws at his erection.

“Don’t freak out,” she says, peppering his face with small specks of affection, “I’m going to get on my knees, and undo your belt. Are you okay with that?”

“Y-Yes…!” He gulps, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. He sounds very enthusiastic.

Shiloh slowly lowers herself, resting her knees on the hot sand. She deftly undoes his buckle and tosses the belt to the side, going to unzip his pants. This is going a lot faster than she expected, but neither are complaining. She’s glad she can do this for him, and he seems to be soaking in the attention.

A shiver travels down his spine as she reaches into his pants, finding his member and slipping it free. He makes a small sound, almost like a mewl, and that in turn makes the heat pool in between Shiloh’s legs. Her fingers are delicate as she wraps her hand around his length, pumping once and looking up at Stev with lidded eyes.

“F-Fuck…” he mumbles, but makes no attempt to say the word.

Then, Shiloh leans her face in.

“Holy shi—!”

Stev bites down on his lip and hisses through his teeth. Shiloh wastes no time, rolling her tongue over his leaking tip; she holds his member up with one hand (though it doesn’t really need the help) and rests the other on his upper leg. His knees buckle, body trembling. Again, he doesn’t seem to know what to do with his hands.

“You okay?” Shiloh asks gently.

She swears she hears him whimper before he nods his head fervently, lips now pressed into a thin line and his cheeks flushed and damp.

“C—Continue…” he says, barely above a whisper. Shiloh notices his hand inching towards her head before he pulls it away again, as if second guessing himself. Does he want to take control? Or does he just not know what to do in this situation in general? She thought she made it clear he could do what he wanted, but maybe it’s time for a reminder.

“You can move my head if you want to, Stev,” Shiloh purrs, peering up through sultry eyes. She moves her hand just slightly, loving how he seems to come undone with just the slightest touch. He huffs.

“You’re…sure?” He says, “I don’t want to…hurt you.”

Was his accent always this thick? It’s actually insanely hot. His voice is husky and low, making a mess of butterflies flutter low in Shiloh’s stomach. She wets her lips, blinking up at him seductively as her free hand reaches up to grab his. His palm is calloused, just like hers, and he holds onto it like a lifeline, smoothing his thumb across it.

“I’ll squeeze your hand if I’ve had enough,” she says, “sound fair?”

Swallowing hard, he nods once again, hesitantly reaching forward to grasp her by the hair. For a moment, he simply runs his fingers through the long strands, seemingly enjoying the feeling. Shiloh hums as he massages her head—damn, this guy really is touch starved. The moment passes by pretty quickly, though, and his hand forms a fist, tangling up in her hair as he drags her head forward with surprising speed.

She opens her mouth wide and feels the tip of his cock hit the back of her throat, successfully making her gag. He instantly backs off a little after that, though he still takes long strokes, moving her head in tandem with his hips. It’s erratic and sloppy, but she can’t blame him for it. She lets her jaw relax, feeling the heat pool between her legs as he lets out little, pathetic noises, trying not to be heard. The sounds of fellatio are unholy, and don’t need to be described. Her soft lips around his shaft, her tongue sliding across his length…

All the way through it, her hand stays locked in his. The gentleness of his fingers around her palm is a stark contrast to the strength of his thrusts; she would’ve thought the soft touch was somewhat romantic, if he wasn’t currently fucking her mouth like he meant it.

He gains speed for a moment before becoming absolutely unglued—his hips stutter pitifully as the fist in her hair tightens, and he stops halfway in her mouth before saying anything.

“F-Fuck, I’m going to—“

It’s really too late to stop the cum from exploding in her mouth. Shiloh squeezes his hand and the effect is immediate; he lets go of her hair and she draws back, letting the rest of the mess go on her face. She revels in the beauty of his trembling form as she strokes his cock with one hand, letting him ride out his orgasm. She spits onto the ground, and smiles up at him encouragingly.

“I am sorry—“ he starts apologetically.

“Don’t start, you did fine,” Shiloh interrupts quickly, albeit a little hoarsely, “nothing wrong with finishing a little early.”

“R-Really? But you are left unsatisfied…”

He looks noticeably unsure, and Shiloh wishes she could take off those goggles and see his eyes. What color are they? What shape? Is he giving her the same soulful look she imagines he’s giving her? He’s still trembling, and it makes Shiloh remove his cap and run a soothing hand through his hair.

“I’m satisfied that you’re satisfied, hun,” she says, kissing him on the cheek, “besides, I’ve got hands. I can take care of myself later.”

He doesn’t look convinced, but it isn’t like they have time to go the full course anyway. The commander is obviously still waiting for his jacuzzi, and Shiloh has to make the finishing touches on it. With care, she tucks his dick back and zips him up, retrieving the belt from the ground and snaking it around his waist, buckling it securely. He rests a hand on top of hers as she stands, and Shiloh tries to ignore the way he softly presses a finger into her palm as she rubs him on the shoulder.

“Oh!” He exclaims suddenly, reaching into his pocket. He pulls out a small handkerchief. “For your face.”

He holds it out for her to take, before seemingly deciding on a different course of action. He slowly reaches forward, giving her plenty of time to react as he gently takes her chin and guides the handkerchief with his other hand, wiping her forehead and cheeks. Shiloh giggles awkwardly—she can’t say she was expecting any aftercare, but it’s appreciated nonetheless. She closes her eyes and leans into the contact.

“There,” he leans back, and they stare at each other for probably a bit too long.

“You are…very beautiful.” Stev says, a bit dumbly.

“And you’re very handsome.” Shiloh replies immediately.

It’s the easiest four words she’s ever spoken. He really is quite the looker. It makes her sad that they won’t be able to cuddle after that whole thing, he obviously needs his fair share of TLC—she’s probably getting her hopes up over nothing, but maybe after this whole debacle—after she takes back Sandrock—she could get him to stay.

“Back to it then, I guess,” she chuckles, sneaking in one last kiss before they walk back to her work station.

It’s kinda hard to focus after that.

#my time at sandrock #mtas builder #mtas fanfic #mtas Stev #smut

[beuhakkaka]

🌊The Sirens Song🌊 (Pt 3)

(TW BLOOD AND INJURY)

This particularly scrumptious human must not have much of a brain. Either that or she had a death wish. She should have avoided this cliff like the plague; not return and toss puny human items at him.

But her intelligence and mental state aside, Venti was delighted to see that his meal had brought herself right up to his doorstep. It was like she was asking him to eat her, and he was more than happy to oblige.

Ventis smirk grew, his lips pulling up to reveal his razor sharp teeth.

He didnt bother to waste time hypnotizing her, he should be able to reach her far before she could even bother to run.

With one powerful pump of his tails fin, Venti launched himself up out of the ocean like a whale greeting the sky. His entire torso soaring out of the waters, both his hands out reached to catch the tiny human on her cliff.

The human shrieked just like she had the night before, turning around and making a run for it.

But she wasn't as lucky this time.

His hands met the cliffs edge in seconds, snagging and digging into the girls leg with his long pointer nail.

Even if just his nail had caught her, that was enough.

A shrill cry escaped his prey, blood pooling around his nail.

He didnt even need to pull himself up to see he had caught her. The scent of blood and the feeling of her little leg squirming was just as telling as seeing it was...and gods, was it intoxicating. Just the scent of her warm blood was enough to make Venti feel drunk.

Using his other free hand, Venti pulled himself up. Although it would be kinder of him to just drag her down and eat her, he wanted to toy with his prey just a little bit. She was a rather unique specimen, and he planned to really enjoy it.

He managed to pull his face halfway up the cliff side, a tad bit annoyed that he couldn't loom over her like he enjoyed to do to ships in the ocean.

Oh well. He could still see her clearly enough.

Just like before, he noted how bright her eyes were. Now that he was up close though, he was noticing other details too.

Her hair was as bright as coral, and her skin white as sand. He didnt see humans with such striking features often. It was intriguing to say the least.

He didnt care much for her ceaseless crying and struggling, more occupied by how bright her hair was, and how delicious her blood smelled.

He licked his lips as he inhaled the heavy, sweet scent of her blood. Normally human blood smelled of iron, so finding such a sweet blooded critter was quite the find. He grinned widely, pressing his nail just a little deeper into her cab. She wouldnt be escaping today.

"You shouldn't have returned little one...though I will thank you for doing so,"

His tone was soft and melodic, not at all matching the words he was speaking.

"You will be a nice, little snack~"

He started to move his pointer finger, dragging the little human by her leg towards the edge of the cliff.

He'll play with her a bit more in the water, and then finally will eat her.

-------------------------------------------------------

Annoras mind had been blurry with panic and pain, all she could do in that moment is wonder why she had been so stupid as to return. She should have known this would happen. Her luck was utter trash after all.

Of course she just had to accidentally kick her bucket off the cliffs edge, of course that bucket just had to alert the beast to her presence. Of course she had to trip on a pebble and get her leg snagged by the creatures nail. Of course she had to drop her only weapon as she fell, now laying a right out of reach behind her.

She should have expected this to turn into a nightmare.

But that didn't mean she was doomed to die just yet. He hadn't crushed her skull, which meant she could still think and plan. She'll make up for her mistakes by escaping with her life.

She cant give up. Not now.

If she could just get his nail out, she would be able to escape.

She had grunted through her sobs, pushing through the blurriness and trying to writhe her way out, pushing and pulling his nail away. But it had been lodged in there good, just like a fishing hook.

She needed to get it out if she had any chance of escaping though, so she continued to push and prod.

It was a difficult task she had been given, a very painful one too, especially since it felt like Annoras leg was on fire.

She had always figured that a shovel digging into your cab would be quite painful. But this...this was beyond just "quite painful". It was excruciating. It felt like her flesh was being sliced in two with a flaming sword. She was in such great agony she barely even registered what the beast was speaking to her about.

She imagined it wasn't anything good though.

When he started to drag her, her already burning flesh felt like it was being ripped off the bone now, and she could only scream in pain. Agonized tears pouring down her dirty cheeks.

She was getting desperate now. She needed to do something drastic.

She looked around in panic, and her eyes landed on the knife, just out of reach.

Annora, pushing through the pain and ignoring the further slicing of her flesh, lunged backwards. Her hand frantically trying to catch onto the knife's handle.

For once, lady luck smiled upon her, and she managed to grab ahold.

Using the momentary victory adrenaline, she thrusted herself forward knife held tightly in hand.

The siren didnt even notice the knife, far too occupied with her tantalizing wound.

So he didn't get even a chance to react as Annora suddenly dug that kitchen knife straight into the beasts finger tip. She dug it under his nail swiftly and efficiently, eliciting a yelp and sudden jerk from the beast.

The sirens nail unhooked from her leg, pulling back in pain.

She had an opportunity, and she took it, quickly stumbling up to her feet, and running.

Her leg still burned, but the adrenaline pumping through her veins numbed the pain. Making it possible for her to messily stumble to safety.

-------------------------------------------------------

Venti whined, pulling his finger tip to his eyes. His finger throbbed, and the sight of the little knife sticking out from under his finger tip just made it hurt worse.

He looked up at the offender, ready to snap her in half when he noted she was running away.

Venti growled angrily, lunging his non injured hand at her.

"Oh no you don't get back here-!!"

His nails grazed her red hair, slicing off the very edges of her long hair...but he did not catch her.

The tiny human collapsed the moment she was out of reach, falling to her knees and then tumbling behind a tree trunk.

Venti glared at what he could still see of the tiny hiding human.

The majority of the time, humans were in a deep trance like state when he hunted. Making it impossible for them to fight, even with their swords and canons on hand.

Very rarely does he get hurt, and very rarely is it by weak little humans like her.

He delicately bit the edge of the knife embedded within his flesh and pulled it out in one swift movement.

He spat out the knife towards the sea, bidding it farewell for eternity.

He turned his eyes back to face the human girl, his lips pulling into a snarl.

Normally, when his hunting trips became too much of a hassle, he gave up. As he was quite the lazy being.

But this time. This time he had been wronged, this time he was pissed.

So he dug his fingers into the cliffs edge, and began to claw himself up.

-------------------------------------------------------

Annoras injury was agonizing, and she was dizzy from the blood loss.

It was a miracle that she had moved. Because now that she considered herself safe, she could really feel the effects of her wound.

She leaned against the tree trunk, puffing out heaving breath after heaving breathe.

Her leg...she didn't know if she could walk on it again. Not without medical care that is; and getting medical care out here in the middle of nowhere was like finding a needle in a haystack.

She didn't even want to look at it. Just knowing that it's gonna look awful.

Before she could even think about how to fix her situation though, the ground below her began to shake, following thud after thud after scraaape.

She whipped her head around the tree trunk, and shrieked.

The beast was clawing his way towards her-!!

She screamed. No-!

She grunted hastily, forcing her leg to cooperate as she began to drag her injured leg, trying to stand up.

But the moment she put any pressure on it, she collapsed.

She fell to the dirty ground, gritting her teeth.

Her gaze flashed to the beast trying to claw his way up onto the cliffs surface.

His hands were just a few feet away from her, his chin now resting on the cliffs edge.

Her heart hammered, and she bit her lip.

Bitter tears splashed onto the ground.

This was it. She was gonna die.

Annora shut her eyes as she let out a soft sob, staring down and curling her non injured leg against her chest.

She couldn't run...it was time to just accept it.

His finger lifted, aiming right for her, nail ready to slice at her delicate from.

The terrifying weapon was so close, and she could only cry.

He swiped...and missed by an inch.

Annora sat there in silence, her shoulders hunched and her teeth grit. She had not yet realized he had missed.

...but as few moments passed, she started wonder. Why wasnt she impaled yet? Slowly and hesitantly, she opened her eyes.

She gasped softly.

His nail was right there. Mere inches from her face.

But he couldnt reach her. No matter how many times he swiped and grunted.

-------------------------------------------------------

"Are you kidding me-"

Venti grunted angrily, swiping at the human again. But no matter how much he stretched, he just couldnt reach her.

It was only a few inches too. So close...

He let out a heavy sigh, letting his massive hand fall to the ground with a thud. Once again, the human had evaded him.

He grumbled to himself angrily.

He should have just shoved her in his mouth, that way he could have at least had a taste of her. But now he had a throbbing finger tip and no snack.

He considered his options.

He could cut his losses and leave. But he was still quite angry at her.

She was too far away to catch though. He can't reach her. Unless, if she moved even five inches closer.

It clicked.

He laughed at himself.

Of course. How could he forget? His nails weren't his only weapon.

He opened his mouth, and began to sing.

He knew she was already terrfied, so he upped the sweetness of his melody. Making it all the more enticing.

But strangely enough, the tiny girl didnt even budge.

He sang a little louder, adding more to his voice to draw her in.

...she didn't even look at him, focusing entirely on her wound.

Suddenly, the tiny woman spoke.

Her voice was shaky, yet surprisingly strong.

"It's not gonna work on me. I plugged my ears."

Ventis eyes widened, his voice stopping mid song. Just ear plugs? They cant be very good if she had known he was singing though...

He growled.

But more importantly, she must be feeling awfully cocky to talk like that to him.

He tsked, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Well if that won't work. Why don't you come here instead?"

He grinned, his teeth shining in the moonlight.

"Not like you can go anywhere with that leg of yours...you're either gonna die by my hand, or natures."

-------------------------------------------------------

Annora was glad she had cut up that sponge and stuck it in her ears.

Otherwise, she wouldn't have been able to resist the sirens call.

The moment he stopped singing, she returned her attention to her leg.

She wanted to vomit as she examined her wound. It was horrible. Way worse than the pain had made it seem. The laceration went along the entirety of the side of her calve, a gaping wound that went into the muscle and poked out the other side. It was like a giant fish hook had been lodged into her flesh.

The profuse bleeding didn't make the dire situation any better either. If she didn't get this to stop bleeding soon, she would bleed out and die.

She didn't really hear the beast speak, the sponge in her ears doing its job by muffling his voice. But even if she did hear him clearly, she didnt have the energy to acknowledge him.

She sturggled a tad bit tip rip the sleeve off of her blouse, but once she got it off, she began to use it to wrap around the bottom of her ankle, to her knee.

She tugged it tightly into a bow, gritting her teeth at the pain. That should keep her flesh together for now, should calm down the bleeding too.

Now she just needed to figure out how to leave. She wiped at her sweaty forehead with her forearm, letting out a heavy huff.

The creature yelled almost angrily.

"Hey! Are you even listening to me-?"

He growled.

Now his yelling was something she could hear loud and clear, and she flinched at it. She had a feeling his yell would have hurt her ears if she didnt have plugs in them.

Annora sighed, turning around to look him in the eyes. Even though she was still terrfied, she didnt want him to think his intimidation was gonna work.

"No. I'm not."

The siren looked strangely offended at her curt words.

She inhaled sharply as she adjusted her leg, trying to find a way to stand up.

"And I'm not- interested in any of your offers-!"

She grunted, leaning against the tree for stability. She whimpered quietly as she thought about the hike she now had to walk. It was gonna be utterly miserable.

She stumbled a little as she tried to take a step forward, only to fall back to the tree for support.

She cried through gritted teeth. How was she gonna escape this one?

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#g/t #digital painting #genshin impact #genshin impact g/t #giant/tiny #genshin g/t #g/t art #giant tiny #tiny female #g/t ocs #g/t fanart #g/t fearplay #sfw g/t #g/t sfw #g/t angst #g/t story #g/t drawing #g/t blood #g/t writing #g/t impact #venti genshin impact #venti the bard #giant male #giant venti #genshin fanfic #genshin impact fiction #oc artwork #tiny oc #oc x canon #art digital

[sergeantsporks]

Yay! Writing requests are open! I've been waiting for so long for more of your writing. THIS MAMAS READY FOR TRAUMA.

Can i request hunter (+ king maybe) swimming? or doing boiling-rain/water resistant stuff? idk. please?

The ocean was calm today. Hunter could see boats out in the distance, probably fishing. Or maybe some of them were bounty hunter boats, out to catch a demon.

Probably not the second, though. The best time to catch a sea beast was when it was raining, when they thought it was safe, because surely no creature would be out in a boiling storm, right?

Hunter kicked a bunch of sand into the water. The water spit and hissed.

Just as hot as ever.

Hunter flopped backwards into it. Warmth seeped into his bones, the kind of warmth he’d never been able to get from regularly warm water, or even from the sun (except for particularly hot days). The tide pushed waves over his face in a gentle lull. Water over. Water recede. Breathe. Water over. Repeat.

A shadow fell over him, and he opened his eyes to see King standing over him, blocking the light. “Luz sent me over to see if you were okay.”

“Mmm.” Hunter accidentally inhaled at the wrong time and sat up, sputtering and trying to hack the water out of his nose and lungs. “Well—I—was—” he choked, retching one last time and snorting to get the last of the salt out.

“Sorry.” King kicked at the water. “So. You can swim in it, too?”

Hunter nodded. “Selkidomus scales. Crazy, huh? Guess it doesn’t seem that way to you, though. Titan and everything.”

King shrugged. “No one else can do it.” He kicked at the water. “Do you know how to swim?”

“A bit. Ocean isn’t the best place for beginners, though. Currents, riptides… it’s just better not to. I used to use my staff to propel myself through the water, it was safer and faster.”

King side-eyed him. “I remember.”

Hunter winced. “Sorry about that.” He waded further out into the ocean, spotting a bubbling spot in the sand. He swooped down and plunged his hands into the sand, pulling out a crab. “Look!”

King splashed over, the water up to his neck. He bobbed gently up and down with the waves, and Hunter bent down to show him.

“They live in the sand.”

“A pinchface!” King exclaimed, “Beast type demon, scavenger and bottomfeeder. Watch out for the—”

Hunter moved his fingers away as the crab opened its mouth and a third pincer reached out, snapping for his finger. “Ha! Nice try.”

“…mouth pincer,” King finished, “Its final defense mechanism.”

Hunter tossed the crab back into the water. “How do you know so much about crabs?”

“I used to do a lot of research on demons. So… you know… I could figure out what I was.”

“Ah. Yeah, me TOO,” Hunter yelped, yanking his foot out of the water. The pinchface had fastened onto his big toe, glaring at him. Hunter hopped around on one foot, splashing water everywhere as he struggled to shake the crab off, or grab it with his hands. “Get it off, get it off, get it—”

“I’ve got it!” King yelled, “I’ve—got—IT!” A soundwave blasted out of his mouth.

It did, in fact, successfully dislodge the pinchface!

It also sent Hunter flying backwards, skidding across the surface of the ocean like a stone on a smooth pond. Hunter sputtered, righting himself and treading water, bobbing up and down in the waves.

King splashed towards him. “Sorry! That worked a lot better in my head! Are you okaaaaahhhhhhhh!”

A wave swept the little titan off his feet, sending him circling and tumbling in the water. Hunter cut through the water towards him, scooping him out of the water and putting him up on his shoulder.

“Hey! You good?”

King coughed. “Yep. Yep. I’m fine.”

“You can’t swim,” Hunter scolded, stroking towards shore. King clung to his back, so light he was barely even noticeable.

“I know, but I sort of blasted you into the ocean. I wanted to make sure I didn’t hurt you.”

Luz ran across the beach towards them. “King! Hunter!”

She held out her hands for King, but Hunter held onto him, staying back far enough in the surf where she couldn’t reach. “Nuh-uh, he’ll be boiling hot to the touch right now, you’ll burn yourself.”

She hopped from one foot to the other. “Mrrrrrgh.”

Hunter gently set King down. “You could have drowned!”

“I wouldn’t have if someone would teach me how to swim.”

Hunter opened his mouth, then closed it. Fine. That was true.

“Swim-ing less-ons, swim-ing less-ons!” Luz started chanting.

Hunter jabbed one finger at her. “Last I checked, you were not boiling water proof, Luz. Plus, I know you already know how to swim!”

“Swim-ing less-ons!” King joined in, “Swim-ing less-ons!”

“Fine! Fine, I will teach you how to swim in the ocean, happy?!”

“Yeaaaaahhhhhhhhh!” Luz and King cheered in unison.

Hunter pinched the bridge of his nose, flopping backwards into the ocean again.

Titan hel—wait. No.

Literally, anything else help me.

#toh #the owl house #asks #toh fanfiction #writing requests #toh hunter #king clawthorne