#oh sexy mermaid fic...

[ruuari]

vanitas sea creature au - inspired by camakitsune's vanven fic shriek

#vanitas #my art #oh sexy mermaid fic... #once again I love this fic a lot. trans sex related representation is so important to me #because navigating fandom can be a very lonely experience when you are trans #as it often is for me #fics like this aren't common and it made me feel so seen

[landograndprix]

╰┈➤ ❝ desire • l.n c.l ❞

part one - part ii

➪ Charles hasn't paid much attention to you after your daughter was born but a certain Brit does.

➪ Everything seems to be going right and life seems amazing, at least to the others..not for you.

➪ established relationship mom!reader x dad!Charles x lando

➪ this came to me as I was running a high fever, stop judging me..i also needed a charles fic here, No lando in this one yet, Charles ain't a real good partner and google translate is my bestest friend

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charlesgirlies

liked by 456 others

charlesgirlies Charles and Zoë in y/n's story today 🥰

view all 189 comment

cahlossainz oh

chilisainz oh my god I'm dead 😭

↳ bott_ass bestie same

charles16 she needs to keep feeding us dad Charles please!!

leclerc_16 volunteering to be his baby mama

lanlan Zoë is just the cutest little bean 🥰

↳ charlesgirlies she is! 🥰

lanlan lil cutie like her mom :)

charlesgirlies and her dad!

charloslesainz y/n living my dream life 😭

landoscar I just know zoë has Charles wrapped around her finger

yukisan didn't know y/n and charles were together let alone have a kid 😂

↳ clsixteen have you been living under a rock? It was a big scandal when they were seen together 5 years ago?? 😭

yukisan I'm new so i dont have all the lore, just thought they were friends because they both come from Monaco 😅

leckerkcharles y/n the predator and her victims

mrsleclerc love that there's still people in the comments being mad about them dating 💀

↳ carlandooo for real it's been 5 years people and charles is not little sauber Charles anymore 🤡

charlesgirlies people be acting like y/n is 40 years older than charles

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y/nusername

📍 Sicily, italy

liked by charles_leclerc, noellepicard and 369,989 others

y/nusername babes big day out 🏖

tagged: noellepicard, manon_roux

view all 1,111 comments

noellepicard she's a little mermaid 🧜🏻‍♀️

charlesssss I can't, she's the cutest 😭

charles_leclerc princesse ❤️

↳ charloslesainz stop it, he's such a girl dad imma throw up

hamilt44n man is made to be a dad honestly

manon_roux lucky to have the prettiest girls in the world with me 🥰

↳ joris__trouche je n'ai pas reçu mon invitation? (i didn't get my invite)

y/nusername probablement parce que je n'en ai pas envoyé :) (probably because i didn't send one)

joris__trouche comportement inacceptable (unacceptable behaviour)

charles_leclerc Joris est une des filles maintenant 😂 (joris is one of the girls now)

y/nusername Je devrais lui acheter une mini-jupe et des talons hauts pour nos prochaines vacances :') (should buy him a mini skirt and some high heels for our next vacation)

manon_roux j'aimerais voir cela se produire 🤣 (i'd love to see that happen)

joris__trouche j'aurais l'air sexy et tu ne peux pas le nier (i'd look sexy and you can't deny it)

sharl16 no idea what they're saying but I agree 😭

landoscar her little feeties 🥺

leclerc_16 am I the only one who finds it strange that they haven't been together this summer break?

↳ carlosleclerc they were bestie, they spend time together with friends in Monaco last week..they're both on their girls and boys vacation..pretty normal

leclerc_16 oh I've missed that part..still something feels off

carlosleclerc I mean y/n gave birth to their daughter not that long ago and its probably not the best idea to fly with a new born/baby all around the world. I'm sure they're fine..

leclerc_16 mmm you're probably right, would hate to see them split up though

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y/nusername posted to their story

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y/nusername

📍 Monte-Carlo, Monaco

liked by arthur_leclerc, pierregasly and 327,888 others

y/nusername juste toi et moi à l'infini, petite fille 💗 (just you and me to infinity, little girl.)

view all 1,222 comments

noellepicard 😍

yourmumsuser mes anges ❤️ (my angels)

charloslesainz 'just you and me' doesn't sit right with me lmfao

↳ thurthur my god it's just a caption 💀

landoscar for real they're always reaching for things

thurthur they always trying to start shit and it's getting annoying and repetitive

clsixteen never seen such a cute kid 🥰

francisca.cgomes need to meet her soon!

↳ y/nusername your always welcome!

bananaclerc cutest little bunny 🐰

manon_roux mon lapinou ❤️ (my bunny)

joris__trouche mon petit monstre ❤️ (my little monster)

↳ hamilt44n stop this kid is so loved 😭

sainzleclerc feeding the delulu fans with that caption

↳ charlesgirlies it's literally just a damn caption!!!

sainzleclerc I know but the crazy charles girlies haven't seen them together in a while and don't forget Charles hasn't mentioned zoë in a while.. things add up in their heads 🤡

charles_leclerc mes princesses ❤️

↳ y/nusername 🥰

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y/nusername posted to their story

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Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs @ireadthensuetheauthors @celestialams @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @80sloverry @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4 @elliegrey2803 @ravisinghs-wife @harrysdimple05 @minkyungseokie @pretty-little-bunny382728

Lando taglist: @simp-for-fictional-people @landossainz @christianpulisic10 @bored-brunette2

let me know if you want to be taken off the taglist

#charles leclerc x reader #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc #lando norris #lando x reader #charles x reader #f1 x reader #f1 x you #charles leclerc fanfic #lando norris fanfic

[studioghibelli]

the old man and the sea- a joel miller x reader fic

summary: grief is a sacred thing, a nasty thing, a sensual thing. it grips you from the inside until there's nothing left but a void of darkness- a void that can never be filled. joel miller knows this fact very well, and all he wants to do is save you.

warnings: girthed up age gap (college age!reader x 50’s age joel), i’m exploring a new type of writing ok let me COOK!!!! idk i am delusional, reader has hair that at least reaches her neck, cigarette use, this whole thing is basically an allegory for grief and growing but there also a lot of sexy smut soooo yeah. (mentions of death and two brief mentions of suicide, but nothing too detailed.) that being said, smut (f receiving oral sex, soft kissy missionary sex, unprotected piv sex, some 'dirty' talk, etc.)

note: this has NOT been proofread or edited. any mistakes are mine. i just hate going back and editing lmao. enjoy! xx

In the august days of your youth, when the rocky line of the coast line glimmered beneath the flame of the sun, when the foamy waves would pool by your sandy feet, you could remember the towering lighthouse just south of the beach, the way it stood tall and proud, like the statues of Roman soldiers you knew from your school encyclopedias. It was vibrant and alive, no more dead than the clams bubbling beneath the surface of the ocean, no more dead than the bellowing of the whales far off the shore.

You remember how it would speak to you, late at night when you would walk alone, hoping to catch the light reflecting off the tail of a pretty mermaid, hoping that the local legends of talking fish would come poke their heads above the water, speaking to you in riddles from days gone by.

You remember the words of the light which shone strong from above, circling above your head , like the passing lights of a traveling carnival, your eyes caught like a moth roaming towards the flames, lost in the eternal beauty of its golden light.

Come to me, child. Let the lighthouse unburden your pain.

But back then, when you were quick to scare despite your steadfast stubbornness, you never garnered enough courage to explore behind its walls.

Now college had passed, and you moved back home to your parent's rickety beach house, alone behind her comforting wooden exterior. This home. This home that was once so full of life. This home that held warm laughter and late night board games. This home that housed your closest friends and their secrets of crushes and undeciphered dreams. This home where you grew into a young woman full of life and beauty, clever and brilliant.

This home that was now empty.

You had got the call the week after finals.

We're so sorry, they went out fishing and a storm came. We never found them.

Oh, yes.

Adventure pumped through your veins, the taste for freedom like salty water on your tongue. You knew where you got it from, you always had. Your sweet family, your loving parents. Full of life like that lighthouse, full of of love like the sun.

Now they were nothing, and this house was nothing. Those years of laughter and secrets and adventure were nothing.

Nothing.

Your favorite word these days.

Going through belongings and shuffling through old books had taken almost a weeks worth of tears. Hot, tepid, angry tears.

How dare they leave you alone? How dare they forsake you like this?

The thought of crashing water and striking lightning was almost too much to bare.

When the storm had rolled in that morning, you had been tucked away in the alcove of your kitchen, nursing a steaming mug that was more cream than coffee. You watched the droplets of rain paint pictures on the window, you watched nature wring her tears across the fluttering branches of trees, cracking soft splashes across the pavement with each gust of air. Your chest felt heavy with thoughts of them.

Mom and dad.

Mamma and papa.

Perhaps it was in hopes you would feel some comfort, perhaps it was in hopes you would feel whole. If you could just stare out at the ocean that took them, maybe they would speak to you. Maybe those fairytale fish would poke their heads up from the water and exclaim to you how happy your parents were, how they were fitting right in, how they had invited Mrs. Dolphin over for tea last Saturday, and how they were finally warming up to the funny shark that always lurked in the seaweed.

You stood barefoot on the cragged rock, staring out at the roaring waves, with nothing but the lull of distant seagulls and the song of incoming thunder.

No fish. No parents. No Mrs. Dolphin. Just another season of storms and a crater in your heart.

Your throat was raw from all the screaming. You danced to your fight song as you let the rain take you, your clothes felt like skin from how soaked through they were. Heavy drapes of fabric that cemented you in place on that cragged rock. That cragged rock that dripped with the blood of your raw heels, your toes scraped and ruined from the sandy surface.

It was dark by the time the storm rolled out, dark by the time your back found the safety of the sand, dark by the time your hair clung to your neck and became tangled up with the seashells.

There was a glowing orb of light far off in the distance that you could just make out through the hazy fog of your eyelashes, and you realized it was growing closer, the old handle of a lantern creaking through the night.

"Hello?" The voice was rough and unknown to your ears, yet held a certain warmth despite the weariness.

"Yes?" You asked softly, refusing to open your eyes. If you opened your eyes, all of this was real, all of this was raw, all of this was right there.

"Are you.... okay?"

"Yes."

The lantern creaked once more, and you heard the shuffle of fabric as the man leaned forward, pressing his knuckles to your cheek. "You're colder than a reindeer's antlers, girl." His touch was warm, his hand a welcome solace from the rain. "You live around here?"

You didn't want to go back to that house. You didn't want to smell their detergent or see their old clothes. You didn't want to waltz through that kitchen or hear the creak of those old stairs.

Perhaps it was from the way your lip quivered, from the rain or from the cold, perhaps it was from the defeat in your voice, or the weightlessness of your soul, but the man before you knew he had to do something about it. How could he not? You were laying there like a pile of unfolded laundry, and no one else was around to fold it all.

You felt an arm slip behind your back.

"C'mon, stand up with me. On three."

You groaned softly, using a thick arm as leverage as the mystery man helped you stand off the ground. When you opened your eyes, you saw a pair of umber orbs staring at you, tracing over your face, every line, scar, freckle, dent, he was soaking you in like a sponge, as though he wanted to know your face just from memory.

"I'm Joel."

Joel.

He was handsome, that was the first thing you noticed about him. You felt your stomach churn at the feeling, angry you could find him so beautiful, despite the darkness which shrouded over you. Joel was broad and rugged, no doubt rough around the edges. He was adorned with various scars and random freckles, with thick eyebrows and broad shoulders, plush lips and kind eyes- hardened by time, no doubt, but beautiful all the same.

You know you mumbled your name out somewhere along the walk, eyes cloudy with tears. It was a miracle you managed to speak anything at all.

As you neared the lighthouse, you realized just how foreboding it truly was. Its paint was cracking, yet its foundation remained firm, and it towered up into the clouds like a Medieval castle. Behind it's white structure you saw a small cabin, warm light seeping through the misty windows, painting the green grass with splatters of sunshine.

When Joel opened the door, an old dog sitting in front of the fireplace lifted his head, the soft thump of a tail beating against the wooden floors. His fur was gray and his eyes were old, his long fur a mixture of brown, black, and white patches. Like a makeshift quilt.

Quilts. Your mother used to make those.

"That's Moby." Joel explained, setting a kettle on the old gas stove. "Sit down. You're trailing blood." You felt embarrassment creep up your neck, and he must have noticed the way your eyes darted with shame. "No, no. I didn't mean it like that. Let me fix up your cuts. I-.... I wasn't trying to be a dick." He spoke like this was his first time having human interaction in a decade, and by the way he moved, you might have been right.

He fumbled through drawers and cabinets, eventually finding a metal first aid kit that had begun resting at the edges years ago. Joel pulled up a dining room chair in front of you with a loud screech, peering up at you as he shuffled through the remnants of the kit.

"What were you doing out there?" He asked, gently grabbing your ankle. He guided it to his lap, inspecting the raw flesh of your soles.

"Exploring."

"Exploring what?"

"Myself."

You felt his shoulders jerk with a bit of a laugh. Normally, you would not have gone home with a stranger. Normally, you would not have let a random man place your legs on his lap or nurse you up.

But then again, nothing was normal anymore. Normal was home. Normal was family. Normal was homecooked meals and late night board games and sleepovers and secrets and.... well, none of this.

The hot stream of tears threatened the dam that rest just above your waterline. Joel noticed, but he didn't say anything.

His calloused thumb rested on the side of your foot, the sting of alcohol soaked pads causing you to wince.

"I know." He muttered through an unlit cigarette which dangled from his mouth, the lines of his forehead prominent with each movement he made. "There we go. Right one's done. Let me see the left."

You obeyed wordlessly, gently propping it up onto his thigh. He repeated his previous work until that foot was cleaned and patched.

Joel stared at you. The tea kettle behind him was whistling for attention, its top sputtering from the roaring boil of water.

"Earl gray or green?" He asked as he rummaged for two cups, blowing the dust off of one. You watched Joel stare at one of the cups for a beat too long.

"Earl gray." You croaked, blinking hard. You felt wetness by your hand. When you looked down, the black nose of a dog was pressing into your palm. Your fingers found his fur, rubbing that spot right behind his ear that made his back leg go crazy. Who couldn't smile at that?

Moby laid down, his fur a puddle at the base of your chair as he rested his snout atop your foot. You stared at him, welcoming the softness of his body against yours.

"Moby is a sweet dog. He's old. Rarely gets up from that bed." Joel explained, handing you a cup. The words World's Best Dad were fading at the sides. This cup must have been older than you.

"I like him." You let the liquid glide down your throat with each sip, savoring the warmth it provided you. At the first sign of a shiver, Joel had wrapped a blanket around your shoulders.

"Why are you being so kind to me? You don't even know me."

Joel sat back down across from you with a soft groan, the ache in his bones creaking like an old, rusting elevator shaft. "I do know you."

"Have we met before?" Your eyebrow raised with interest, and you looked at him wearily, trying to deduce what he was up to.

"No. But I know what grieving looks like." There was a long pause before Joel decided to speak again. "Were you trying to kill yourself?"

"What? No!" You guffawed, neck snapping up to shoot him a scowl. "Of course not."

"Look. If you walked up on a half dead, soaking wet person on the shore, during the aftermath of a storm, you'd be thinking the same thing." He defended himself sternly, setting his cup down.

There was a thick moment of quietness.

"Those were your parents, weren't they?" His voice was barely a whisper. It floated through the air like smoke off a candle, hitting you in the face.

"Yes."

"It was all over the news. Loads of us went out there, tried to find them."

"They're out there somewhere. Fish food." Your voice was bitter.

Joel didn't say anything. He just sat and stared. You stared back.

It became a ritual after that night. You were over there every evening, usually with a paper bag full of groceries and treats for Moby. You taught Joel how to make Paprikash and Japchae, you taught Moby how to fist bump with his nose (old dogs can learn new tricks), and you taught yourself how to laugh again.

Laughing. Such an odd thing to do in the aftermath of grief. Such a weird feeling to allow ones self to feel after weeks of chaos.

And Joel, he had his uses too.

Joel taught you how to do a fishtail braid, he taught you how to use a fly rod, and what the inside of a lighthouse looks like. Joel taught you how to smile again, he taught you what the feeling of freedom felt like once more.

Summer faded into autumn, and the orange and yellow trees began to paint the prettiest of pictures on the canvas of the coast. It held a certain nostalgia that summer had always failed to do for you, and the promise of apple cider and pumpkin scented candles floated through with every passing day.

It had taken some convincing, but Joel had swayed in to your demands, and you both sat at a tiny table in a tiny cafe, the steaming pumpkin latte swirling between his hands.

"So?"

He stared at it for a moment before meeting your gaze. "It's.... not half bad."

"Well, well, well. Looks like I was right. I knew you'd like it." You smiled through your victory, drinking your own iced coffee.

"I haven't been here in years." Joel explained, looking around at the decorations. Local art, framed photographs, and signed albums adorned the exposed brick walls, the glowing salt lamps on each table bathing the air with warm, orange light.

"You've been here before?" This coffee shop was old, you knew that much, but even when you were younger and frequented its counter with your high school friends, you can't remember ever seeing him here. And this was a small town- you knew you would have remembered his face, despite the wrinkles and grays. He still would have been Joel.

"Over two decades ago. Sarah loved this place."

"Sarah?"

His upper lip twitched at the sound of her name. Joel looked at you with heavy eyes, glossed over with the mark of grief. The kind of grief that settles in to your body as though it's its home, the kind of grief that sits beside you on the couch and never leaves. The kind of grief you were learning to grow beside.

"My daughter."

The air hung above your heads like a rainy cloud, thick and desultory. It fell across your shoulders like a fur coat, and you struggled to shake it all away.

"I didn't know that you..." Words were useless. They always were when it came to matters like this.

Joel drank his coffee in silence, tracing the ridges of the wooden table out with his eyes. "Don't like talking about her."

"We don't have to."

"Yes, we do." His voice was stern as he looked up at you, your gaze connecting. Joel's eyes were far away, searching for something in the recesses of his memory, or perhaps gaining the courage to speak to you.

"I've been alone for over twenty years." His voice was softer than you had ever remembered it being. "And then.... you were there. Just there. Laid out on the shore like a beached mermaid, shivering in the moonlight. I didn't know you... but I knew you. You were me in that moment. I had been you."

Your lips were pressed into a tight, thin line, and you watched as he spoke. There was a subtle shake to Joel's hands as he picked at his thumb nail, a tick you had picked up on the first week you had known him. The bouncing of his knee vibrated through the table.

"I know what grief is. I know the stain it leaves on someone's face. It was all over you.. just-just dripping."

You hadn't noticed the tears welling in your eyes.

Joel reached over, his palm engulfing your cold hand like a blanket, warming your skin up with his touch. He laced your fingers tight in to his own, cradling your palms close between his two hands.

"I know what all this does to a person. How it rots, how.... how it erodes. I knew I needed to help you."

"What's why you took me back to your house."

"Yes. That's why I bandaged you up, that why I made you tea, that's why I let you keep coming back. Because I wanted to help you, because I lov-"

"Are we doing okay over here?" A barista walked up with a smile, a tray in hand. "I'm just going to take these empty cups away! It's such a beautiful day outside."

You managed to shoot her a smile.

As she walked away, Joel continued staring at you, and there was a sense of something..... else in his eyes.

"Lets go back home? To- well, uh, to my home."

You nodded silently, letting go of his hands as you both walked out the door.

There was something unspoken between Joel and you, and it had settled between the two of you over the months. You knew that he knew, and Joel knew that you knew, yet it was never brought up, it was never allowed to spoken out loud. If it was spoken out loud, then it became real, and if it became real, then it would end up being a burden. Or a promise. Or a nightmare. Or a dream. Or a beautiful, welcoming, loving thing that lasted until the day you died.

How terrifying was that?

You don't know when you had started holding Joel's hand, but the walk back to the lighthouse was quiet and chilly.

Because I lo-

His words echoed through your skull with every single step you took along the cobbled path.

Lo, lo, lo, lo. Love? Loathe? Long? Look?

Your chest compressed against itself as your thoughts wandered. You must have been squeezing Joel's hand too hard, or your nails must have been digging into his skin too deeply, because he stopped and looked at you.

"Are you okay?" He asked quietly.

"I- um. Huh?"

"You're practically making me bleed with those nails of yours. Are you okay? Thinking about something?"

"Oh, I'm sorry." You muttered sheepishly, gently recoiling your hand away. Joel stopped you, placing it back in the grasp of his own. "I just... what were you going to say to me?"

"Hmm? Say to you?"

"Back at the coffee shop?"

"Oh." Joel shuffled his weight between both of his feet, his eyes shifting to meet yours. His warm, gentle, dark eyes. Those honeyed orbs of warmth that you had grown to love so deeply. Love? Oh, yes. You were certain it was love.

What part of Joel Miller didn't you love? He had rescued you from much more than that shore on that fateful night. Fate. Hell of a thing, that.

Joel squeezed his eyes shut. It was like ripping off a band-aid. When he spoke, he opened them once more, allowing his words to drip off his tongue. They were soft, gentle, they swayed through the tresses of your hair like a breeze through a field of flowers.

"I love you."

And there it was.

Time must have stopped. Your ears rang with silence, the weight of the universe funneling and funneling, closer and closer to your head until there was nothing. No noise. No air. No nothing.

Joel stared at you with a blank expression on his face, as though he couldn't believe what he had just said.

"I shouldn't have... that was- I'm sorry."

You took a step towards him, his hand was still wrapped around your own. You felt the subtle sheen of sweat on his palm, you tasted the tang of metal on your tongue from biting your cheek too hard, too deep, too long.

You knew it as sure as the sun rose in the east, you knew it with every vein in your body, with every hair on your head. You loved him, too.

Oh you did, didn't you? What a fool you were for him. If he told you to jump, you would jump. If he told you to run away with him, you would ask where. Joel Miller had bewitched you, every ounce of you, and you couldn't bare the thought of leaving him, or forgetting him, or even worse- never meeting him.

Some brave rush of courage overtook you, and before you could think you had grabbed his face in your hands and pressed your mouth into his own, nearly knocking him off his feet with the force of your movement. Joel's hands instinctively grabbed your waist, and his back found the support of a stop sign. The tips of his fingers gently dug into your waist, and he held you close and tight to his chest. You could feel the beating of his heart against his torso, pumping and pumping and pumping its vibrations into your own chest, ricocheting through your body as you tasted him on your tongue.

You pulled away only when your cheeks ached, burying your face in to his chest, allowing the smell of Joel to overcome you. He always smelled like the sea air and cotton, sweet and nostalgic against your nose.

"Lets get home." He whispered in your ear.

Home. He hadn't corrected himself. Home.

Joel's fingers refused to leave yours, locked tight as you made it to his house. Moby greeted you with a kiss to the knee, waddling back to his bed with a heavy huff of air. You gave him the bone you always picked up for him on the way there, before turning around to see Joel in the kitchen, a cigarette in his mouth.

"Want one?" He asked as he brought the lighter to his mouth. You walked towards him, nodding. He took the item out of his mouth, before placing it between your own two lips.

Joel watched the way you took the cigarette, the way your glossy lips looked against the white sheen of paper.

"You're so damn beautiful. God, I just..." Joel shook his head as he kept his thoughts to himself, lighting another smoke before tossing the half empty pack on to the table.

"You just what?" Your voice echoed through the bellow of smoke, and you leaned against the counter, challenging him with your words.

"I just... got so many things I want to do to you."

You smiled, alluring eyes beaming up at him as you puffed and exhaled, slowly putting out the embers on the clay ashtray you had bought him months ago. "Like what?" Your words were teasing.

Joel watched you step towards him, and his chest rose and fell underneath the unlit kitchen light. He took in a deep breath of tobacco before flicking it in to the metal sink.

He'd deal with that later.

"How 'bout I just show you, baby?"

Your lip caught between your teeth as you nodded.

Joel had never moved so fast in his life, whisking you off to his room with a loud bang of his door. He had you nearly naked and on his bed in record time, his knee resting between your legs as he kissed you, the hair of his moustache tickling your nose.

He allowed you to grind yourself down on his leg, soft moans flooding in to his mouth as his tongue explored your own, tangling and dancing with one another as his fingers worked the back of your bra. Joel threw the material across the room, your breasts pressing in to his chest, nipples hard and tantalizing.

That was the first time Joel had pulled away. He left a trail of wet kisses down to your nipples, his lips wrapping around the stiff bud. You watched him suckle at your flesh, shivers causing the hair on your arms to stand up. His curls became tangled with your fingers, a leg resting on his shoulder as he adjusted himself, sucking and licking at your tits as though he were starved.

Your sweet melody of arousal was like music to Joel, who finally gathered the strength to pull away from your chest and move down between your legs, his mouth planting a flurry of pecks to your stomach. He hooked your panties in his fingers and tugged them off, large hands resting on your thigh as he spread them.

Joel stared at your pussy, now open and bare for his eyes. It glistened with arousal, the soft pink of your flesh causing his mouth to water.

"Jesus." He breathed out slowly, eyes darting up to your gaze. "You were made just for me, weren't you?"

You felt your cheeks heat up. You were. Oh, God, you were!

His free hand snaked up to yours, and you held it tightly, nervously. His hand was your anchor, tethering you to the ocean floor of his bedroom.

Joel leaned forward, his tongue pressing flat against your clit. You whimpered out once. He sucked it in between his lips. You whimpered out twice. He worked your aching bud until you were singing a song composed just for him, pants of hot, heavy air swirling through the four walls of his room.

He was devouring you. You were his Eucharist and your pussy was his prayer. Joel worked you in ways you had never been worked before, licking and sucking your pussy with the fervor that could only ever be found in a religion. You were his religion. His idol. His worship. His solace.

Oh, solace. What a sweet, sweet thing when it was found in you.

Joel's chin was quickly soaked in your sweet wetness. He would have drowned in you if you had let him.

His tongue pushed deep in to your folds, exploring your most precious pf places, tasting every inch of you like a starved man, like a frenzied man, like a mad man.

You were his. He was yours.

Your hips were bucking, your body like a wild animal caught in a trap. Except you weren't in a trap. You were in his arms. His strong, thick, heavy arms, and ecstasy was overtaking you. His tongue was coaxing you towards an explosive orgasm, the likes of which had never been known to you. Not one so intense. Not one at the hands of a man who loved you.

Joel's grip tightened around your own, his lips sucking at your clit, tongue tapping and swirling, licking and lapping.

You could barely get any warning out before your orgasm rushed through you, thighs shaking with earthquakes of pleasure. Your fingers tugged at his hair, holding his head tight in place. Joel licked you through the height of your euphoria, sucking softly at your bud before you could barely take it anymore, before you had to gently push his head away.

"Joel." You whispered, staring at the ceiling as the white hot heat of your climax rushed over you. "Joel." You spoke it like a mantra. His name was a promise to you.

"Baby?" He climbed over you, weight supported by his elbows, and allowed the tip of his nose to gently brush over yours.

"Take me." You whispered, the palms of your hand moving to his cheeks. They were warm, and you could smell your pussy on his facial hair. You leaned forwards, kissing him, tasting your cum and his spit. A moan tumbled out of your mouth, straight through your teeth.

"Make me yours. Fuck me." You begged, although Joel didn't need any begging.

"Anything for you."

His boxers were off in the blink of an eye, and you glanced down at his cock. Tanned, slightly curved, hanging low and heavy, the mushroom tip gleaming with pre-cum. Your mouth was watering at the site, but his grasp on your chin moved your line of sight to his face.

Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, and a soft gasp escaped you at the feeling of the tip of his cock pressing against your folds. He grinded against you, his shaft rubbing up and down the folds of your pussy, jolts of electricity causing you to shiver each time he brushed your clit.

Joel was teasing you. He was making you in to a mess. A mess all for him.

His eyes never left yours. Joel watched you lovingly, noses pressed tight, lips brushing past the others. You were as close as two people could possibly be, and you were unsure where his skin ended and yours began. Stray curls of his hair tickled your forehead, and your chests rose and fell in unison.

"I love you." His breath was hot against your face.

"I love you too-" He pushed his length in as you spoke, stretching out the lips of your pussy, hitting deeper than anything had before. You moaned out a wanton noise you had never heard before, nails gently digging in to his shoulders.

Joel sat there for a moment, heavy eyelids half closed. He was soaking you in, literally, allowing himself to relish in the feeling of being inside of you. Of being one with you.

He had not afforded himself many of life's pleasures. Not after Sarah had died. Not after he had let himself go. He had paced the same shore as you many moons ago, gun in hand, trying to urge himself to just put the barrel in his mouth and pull the trigger. It sounded so easy.

But something had stopped him. Something hadn't let him.

He had wondered, many years after that, why he hadn't done it. He had wondered what could possibly be worth living.

And then he saw you.

In that very same spot, rotting beneath the silver light of the moon.

It was you. Everything had been for you, hadn't it?

And now there you were, beneath him, as pretty as a picture, the embodiment of everything he had ever yearned for, everything he had ever dreamed for. You were everything to Joel, and he was everything to you.

And now there he was, deep inside of you. You were all he could feel, all he could smell, all he could see. You, you, you. The most beautiful thing he had ever saw, the most wonderful thing he could have ever waited for.

The shiver of your body brought him back down to reality. He kissed you deeply, and all you could do was smile against his mouth.

Lucky. That is what you were. That is what you both were.

"You feel so good." You whispered softly, hands gently running down the back of his head, finding a resting spot on the broad stretch of his freckled back.

Joel rubbed his cheek against yours, slowly moving his hips, grinding down against you, eliciting a sweet moan out of you. "Yeah?"

You both giggled in unison, and he watched your eyes shut as he began to pump deep inside of you. The feeling of your nails pinched at his skin.

Joel glanced down, watching his cock disappear into the depths of your cunt, sloppy noises of your arousal filling the air. Your pussy lips looked so pretty wrapped around his length, your wetness looked so pretty glistening off his cock.

You were made for him, and he for you.

"Take me, Joel." You begged, and his movement increased, growing slightly rougher as his forehead met yours, lips pressing together once more.

"God, you're so beautiful. So fucking beautiful. So fucking pretty. You feel so fucking good. This pussy.... fuck. Fuck, I never want to leave it." He was rambling through his thrusts, hand reaching down to rub at your swelling clit.

"Fuck me, Joel. Fuck me." You whined out, bucking up against the touch of his fingers as he fucked you harder in to the mattress.

"You're my girl. You're my beautiful fucking girl. God, you're everything to me. You're my world." His breath was hot against your face as he kissed you, coaxing you towards another orgasm with each rub of his middle finger across your clit.

"That's a good girl. I can feel you getting closer. I can feel that pussy tightening against me."

Your back arched off the mattress as you cried out his name, moaning as his praises filled your ears. Joel rested his face in the crook of your neck, hips slapping in to your thighs as he filled you up with every inch of his length.

"That's my girl, that's it, baby. Cum for me."

You did as he said. There was no use in holding back. As your orgasm rushed through, his own was approaching. Your name tumbled off his lips, the only word he could remember, as he came deep inside your walls. His hot cum filled you to the brim with a warmth you had never experienced, and Joel kept slowly pumping as his high rushed off, as his orgasm died down.

You shivered beneath him, another kiss being planted on your mouth. Then you cheeks. Then your nose. Then anywhere else Joel could get to.

A moan tumbled off Joel's tongue as he slowly slipped out of you, falling beside you before grabbing you and pressing you in to his chest.

"Stay with me."

"I always do." You whispered in to his chest.

"No, stay with me. Permanently. This can be our home."

"Our home." You whispered quietly, nuzzling closer into his body.

"Our home." He established firmly, resting his palm on the crown of your head.

The world would always spin, and sorrow would always lurk. That was how the world worked. That was the way of the universe. When you both awoke in the morning, the pain of yesteryears would still be there. The horrible, nasty tug of old memories and distant lives would always be somewhere deep within you.

The cosmos, however, were full of possibilities. You could have stayed in your parents home and succumb to a darkness greater than yourself. Joel could have drank himself to death or tasted the metal of a bullet. Those waves could have taken you, and he could have never decided to take a walk down to that beach.

There were many what if's.

But right now you were alive with passion, eyes wide and awake with a newfound love. The bitterness had gone, and something much brighter and better was waiting for you in the future.

Beside you, Joel Miller sat puffing on a cigarette, smiling at you through dreamy eyes. The sheen of sweat was still glistening across his chest, and the gentle smirk on his lips reflected the tales of a lovesick fool.

"Ready to go again?" He asked cheekily, handing you the smoke.

You took it with a smile.

For now, grief would have to wait.

#studioghibelli #joel miller x reader #joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller x you #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller smut #the last of us fic #joel miller the last of us #joel miller x y/n #joel miller au #joel miller fic #joel the last of us #joel miller tlou #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #tlou #tlou fanfiction #tlou au #joel tlou #tlou fic #tlou hbo #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro boys #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fandom

[ssa-atlas-alvez]

Cowboy!reader Masterlist

Because apparently y’all love this lol (see- see what I did there? Y’all)

I'm trying to put these in a rough order as I go in the fic universe to try and make it easier to read aha

Edith

Description: cowboy has an elderly neighbour (this is literally just cowboy and his neighbour, in my head set before he joins the BAU) Warnings: none

Interestin'

Description: Cowboy reader is new to the team and is feeling unheard. Warnings: bad government knowledge on Atlas' part, I did try to google it but idk guys, trying my best here. Oh, also, stress eating.

I Understand

Description: directly follows from 'interestin'', cowboy reader talks down a teenage unsub. Warnings: guns, hostage negotiations, untrusting team

Lies

Description: Directly follows 'I Understand', Hotch accuses cowboy reader of lying to the teen unsub. Warnings:

The Post That Started It All

Description: Warnings: gunshot wound.

Baking and House Plants

Description: Warnings: briefly mentions anxiety.

Poetry

Description: Cowboy and Spencer talk about reading Warnings: the only thing I can think of is that reader suggests to spencer to read the warnings of a book reader likes

Allergies (Not Really)

Description: Warnings: transphobia, sad reader, guns, bullet wound, fighting, briefly mentions some murders to set the scene a bit, someone calls reader a redneck.

More (Not) Allergies

Description: Allergies (Not Really) Part 2 Warnings: minor sad reader.

Flirting, reckless driving, I didn't mean to hit you I promise

Description: Warnings: minor car accident, unsub is not a nice man, brief mentions of killings/murders.

Mama's Boy

Description: (Follow up from Flirting, reckless driving, I didn't mean to hit you I promise) Warnings: Brief mentions of murder and kidnapping (super brief), a man tries to intimidate a woman, that’s about it. Oh, some swearing. 

Pretty As A picture

Description: Warnings: a shelter?

Gay Panic

Description: Warnings: gay panic, some unsavoury thoughts - like one

Gay Panic Part 2

Description: Warnings:

Darla

Description: Warnings: n/a

Tattoos

Description: Warnings: n/a

Mermaids and Unicorns

Description: Warnings: n/a

Protector

Description: a guy hits on JJ at a bar and cowboy reader is not happy about it. Set before they confess their feelings, they're still "friends" here. Warning: unwanted touching (arm around the shoulder), and guy tries to kiss JJ (when she doesn't want it)

Sleepover

Description: JJ thinks cowboy looks huggable. Warnings: none

Sunflower Seeds

Description: Warnings: Death, sadness, abuse, bad foster parents, death of a child, murderous foster parents. Word count: 2403

Quit

Description: Warnings: Smoking, addiction (smoking)

The Art of Actually Quitting

Description: JJ helps cowboy tackle his smoking addiction. Warnings: Addiction, reader snaps

I'm Sorry, I Promise, Have Some Flowers

Description: Warnings:

My Bio Daddy

Description: Not sexy times I swear. Cowboy reader's father visits, things don't go too well... Warnings: abuse, abusive parents, abduction, claustrophobia, judgy nurse, hospital visits, child abuse mentions

Farmers Tan

Description: just a little snippet of cowboy reader and the team really Warnings: n/a

Southern Belle Ex

Description: the BAU run into an old friend of cowboy reader while near his home town Warning: jealousy, mentions past smoking addiction, that's about it

Home

Description: Being close to home, the team finally get to meet reader's family. Things start out great and then... Not so much. Reader makes sure his younger brother knows that despite what their parents have said, he's still there for them. Warning: homophobia, someone nearly says the f-slur twice (they don't say the whole thing, reader puts them in their place), mentions of going to conversion therapy, pro-conversion therapy views, being kicked out because of sexuality, unaccepting parents, unaccepting sibling (Jason's a bit of a dick and I stand by that). I think that's everything.

Outlaws

Description: Warnings: None

I was worried

Description: Warnings: Blood, guns, gun shot wound, passing out, hospitals, some swear words

Sleepless

Description: cowboy reader can't sleep :( Warnings: can't sleep (idk if it's insomnia tho), very tired reader, I think that's all

Birthday

Description: Warnings: implications of claustrophobia, it's his first birthday party so he's a bit overwhelmed bless him (I say over a fully grown man)

Sick

Description: Warnings: illness, mentions throwing up (no actual throwing up), cold/flu, mentions high temperature, reader feels rough, yeah

Dates

Description: Warnings:

Crazy Ex Girlfriend

Description: Dana, an old 'friend' of reader turns up at his work place and decides to make a scene. Warnings: reader gets slapped, crazy ex girlfriend, she insults JJ, she calls her a sl^t and wh0re, she also tells reader to 'burn in h3ll'

Rain and Thunder

Description: It's raining, and reader can't help but feel connected with the earth. Ever the romantic, this particular type of weather leads to more discussions of feelings. Takes place quite some time after 'Sick' and 'Dates' but you guys dont know about dates yet. I've not written it yet but it happens before this. Warnings: rain, thunder, lightning, that's it this one is happy feelings, bit cliche but ya know I enjoyed writing it aha

TikTok

Description: Cowboy reader tries tiktok Warnings: None

(No) Self-Preservation

Description: scar reveal. Warnings: scars, abusive backstory.

Promise

Description: JJ and Cowboy hit a rough patch, the song is promise by Laufey (just in case you can't see it, Tumblr's being annoying for me) Warnings: sadness :'), smoking

Like A ______

Description: Warnings:

Save A Horse

Description: Warnings:

Allergy Reunion

Description: Mia and reader reunite, chaos ensues. Warnings: gun shots, unsubs go to the school, guns, schools targeted, criminal minds levels of violence (maybe even on the slightly tamer side).

taglist under the cut

Taglist: @xweirdo101x @xdark-acadamiax @ara-a-bird @heidss @chubbyboyinflannel @pendragon-writes @migwayne @bigolgay @technikerin23 @supercriminalbean @honestlycasualarcade @caffeine-mess @1s3v3n1 @oddmiles @kevyeen @stealing-kneecaps @criminalskies @woodandwaxwings @wizardmon3 @aphroditeslovr @ducks118 @azeal-peal @13thdoctor-run @introvertpan84 @goth-boi-atlas @iliketozoneout @chaosofmanyfandoms @logicalhorror @luvfornick @prmsn-17

@xweirdo101x @xdark-acadamiax @ara-a-bird @heidss @chubbyboyinflannel @pendragon-writes @migwayne @bigolgay @technikerin23 @supercriminalbean @honestlycasualarcade @caffeine-mess @1s3v3n1 @oddmiles @kevyeen @stealing-kneecaps @criminalskies @woodandwaxwings @wizardmon3 @aphroditeslovr @ducks118 @azeal-peal @13thdoctor-run @introvertpan84 @goth-boi-atlas @iliketozoneout @chaosofmanyfandoms @logicalhorror @luvfornick @prmsn-17 @pinxeajin

I might have missed some people out - I'm very sorry if I have, also please let me know either in my inbox, on here, or message if you wanna be added to the taglist :)

#bau x cowboy reader #bau x reader #bau x male reader #bau #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanficiton #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #spencer reid #emily prentiss #david rossi #jennifer jareau #cowboy reader #male reader #x male reader

[twopoppies]

Aww. Harry is beautiful in every form...but, long haired Harry is my favorite.

It really was such a statement when he did it. Especially coming out of the womanizer image they ramped up in 2013. I find it so strange how many new (het) fans post photos of LHH and talk about him the way people used to talk about frat boy Harry era. For them, long haired Harry is sexy and dangerous and dark (cue all of them talking about whatever Wattpad fic they’re currently reading). Meanwhile all I see is a young man becoming more and more comfortable with expressing his femininity, with fighting his closet, and giving a big “fuck you” to their label who tried to hold him to a certain stereotype. Context really matters.

And in 2014/2015 when it was all happening, oh my god the hets HATED it. So many of them thought he looked ridiculous, and dirty, and not “manly” enough. Meanwhile the rest of us were rejoicing about prince hair and making pirate and mermaid fan art.

I love his current look, but long-haired Harry was a really special time and yes, he looked beautiful.

#long hair harry

[be-my-ally]

Splashing Around

for the prompt "Quit splashin' me.”

can you tell i’m that annoying girl wanting to play mermaids in every pool?

Now, this is pretty much my first foray into writing early Elvis... it's very much a little fic with no background that is part of a larger story that is growing every day in my head, and also in my computer. It's also my first ever OC ever so please, bear with me with it + my suddenly terrible dialogue.

Silly as it might sound about an Elvis fanfiction, thank u to @whositmcwhatsit and @thatbanditqueen for cheerleading me to try the different style. and also, ofc, @vintageshanny @ellie-24 @missmaywemeetagain @from-memphis-with-love

wc: 3k

This is sweet and fluffy and boring but! I have another fic Wet Bikini which is, uhhh, just pure smut, with a similar 'fun in the pool' premise which I've linked in case anyone is missing the smutty sexy fun times.

c. July 16th 1957.

It’s surprisingly early when the phone rings, Louise’s parents having only just left for work, and she rushes to pick it up - hoping it would be the call she was waiting for. 

“Hey little Lou-Lou,” The familiar voice rings out, perfectly confident that it would be Louise who answered. 

“Hi, Elvis is that you?” She asked excitedly, perhaps a little stupidly she thought after, no-one else would call her little Lou-Lou. 

“Who else is callin’ you up?” She giggles in response and can hear the smile in his voice as he continues, “I’m at home darlin’, but I’m all alone - and it’s so hot today,  and I was just thinkin’ how maybe a ride on the Harley would cool me down,” he pauses while she takes a sharp breath in, was he - was he about to ask her to go for a ride? “And I was thinkin’ maybe you’d like to come with me?” 

“Oh yes, yes - of course!” She takes a second to collect herself, “That sounds like fun, yes Elvis, absolutely!” 

“Pack a swimsuit, hon, you’ll need it when we get back - I’ll pick you up in an hour.”  

“Ok - I’ll meet you outside.” She’s aiming for nonchalant but she thinks it might just be coming across breathless. 

“Alright darlin’ I’ll see you later - bye now.” He hangs up and Louise stands there for a moment, still clutching the receiver as she does an excited little hop in place. She hurriedly puts the phone back on the cradle and runs back up the stairs to her room - rushing to get herself ready. 

As she’s brushing out her curls, styling them as tightly as possible in preparation for the wind on the motorcycle - she’ll wear a scarf she decides, she considers if she should call any of the other girls. On the one hand, she already felt a little guilty, as if she was stealing him from under their noses, and she didn’t know of anyone else who had been picked out for a totally private date from the group. On the other, she somewhat selfishly wanted to be the only one who knew he’d asked just her. Besides, she thought to herself, it’ll only be for however long they were on the motorcycle for - by the time they get back to Graceland he’ll be surrounded by all the guys and girls. 

An hour and a half later and Louise can hear, out of her bedroom window, the unusual sound in their quiet dull suburb of the roar of the motorcycle. She hurries outside where he's waiting, assessing him for a second; He’s not really dressed for the occasion, a light jacket over top of what is clearly a sleeveless vest, and soft white trousers, silly little cap atop his head. But he is dressed for the weather, and as always, he looks good.  He pats the seat behind him. 

“Hop on then darlin’,” She doesn't have to be told twice, immediately clambering on behind him. She comfortably wraps her arms around Elvis, glad that this wasn’t the first time she was going for a ride.

“Where are we heading E?” She takes the chance before he starts the engine properly to talk to him. 

“I don’t know baby -  just around.” He pauses, “We won’t go far but isn’t it just nice to be out? Nice to spend the day with one of my favourite girls,” She grins against his back, thrilled to be given such a title. A second later Elvis is kicking the bike into action and tearing off down the street. 

It was a pretty drive as he somehow, amongst all his other skills seemed to have a knack for picking the best and least busy routes. Louise was enjoying herself, the scenery was pretty, Elvis felt solid and sturdy, and the breeze was helping to cool her down. Although, the burning engine underneath their legs, and the heat of the sun from above rapidly made it less effective. He pants a little jokingly when he pulls off the quiet country road a little way out of the city. 

“I don’t think this is working out huh?” She shakes her head against his back, 

“It’s too humid for it to help I think, it feels like I’m suffocating out here.” She can tell he’s suffering too, his shirt sticking to his back - damp patches clearly evident and hair curling on the nape of his neck. She’d been concerned at first - weren’t they meant to be wearing leather? Or helmets? Or something? But as the day warmed up even the thought of an extra layer, or of heavy plastic and metal on her head, was terrible. 

“Hang on then, hon, I’ll get us home.” He barely gives her enough time to regain her hold before he’s zipping off and away. His desire to just be home right now making him drive even faster than before, although from the way he lets out a little whoop every now and again he must also be enjoying the additional speed. 

Louise on the other hand, was terrified, he had to be going close to a 100mph and she could feel it in the way the air was whipping past them and in the way his turns were getting wider and wider on the corners. “Slow down El! You’re scarin’ me!” She shouts at his ear, he laughs, but nonetheless the speedometer (if she could see it) indicated he was slowing, albeit not by a lot. It’s under ten minutes before they’re zipping up to the newly-installed gates of Graceland. They’re waved through quickly, and Elvis doesn’t so much as park as much as he simply kills the engine just inside the carport. 

Louise climbs off the bike shakily, Elvis holding out a hand to help her balance. 

“You weren’t really scared were ya Lou?” 

“No, no, course not!” She shrugs her shoulders back, shaking off the last of the fear and undoing the headscarf from under her chin, pulling it down her shoulders. She can feel her hair stuck to the back of her neck from the sweat - probably formed by both the heat and the terror. 

“Good.” He steps towards her, fiddling with a now loose lock of hair, “Promised I wouldn’t ever do anything to hurt ya didn’t I?” She nods back at him, almost shyly, as he tucks the wave back, resting his palm on her shoulder briefly before patting it and moving away. 

“It’s so hot out here, must be almost a hundred degrees today!” He wipes at his brow, over-exaggeratedly flicking it as if wiping away dripping sweat. Louise gives it the appropriately polite giggle, “The pool’s ready for action though, had them fix it up before we moved in.” He seems to forget she was in it only last week, “It’ll be nice to get in that water!” She nods in agreement, 

“Oh yeah! Is -“ She stops herself from asking who else was invited, that’s no-ones business but his. From where they’ve stopped in the carport she can’t see anyone else’s car but, as she well knows, that doesn’t mean there isn’t people in the house.  He doesn’t notice, instead gripping her hand and pulling her with him into the house. He rushes them up the stairs once they’re in, 

“C’mon you can get changed in the dressing room!” 

——

It’s hot and humid as hell and Louise is sure her hair’s already been wrecked by both the weather and the motorcycle ride, but still - she’d spent hours on it the night before, and taken such care to keep it looking as good as possible despite the conditions that as much as sinking into the cool water of the pool sounded like bliss - she was determined to keep her hair dry. 

So, she sits demurely on the edge of the pool, her legs dipped in, splashing her feet about and feeling her skin start to tan as she leans back while watching Elvis play and dive around. She’s been here before a few times, in the past couple of weeks since Elvis returned and moved in, with the others but never by herself - and while they typically spent much of their time watching him, gushing and gossiping, it felt far more intimate to be the only one around. The only one today to titter at his tight little black trunks, or the way that he still hasn’t learnt to remember to take his watch off until he’s already in the water. She smiles down at his grinning face when he swims a bit closer. 

“You having fun, E?” He nods, brushing his hair back off his forehead and looking shyly back down at the water, 

“Uh-huh, you gonna watch me dive?” She nods, happy to be his adoring audience for as long as he wants, until that is, his enthusiastic diving down causes a splash. He comes bobbing back up, a mischievous look at the sound of her shriek, intentionally moving closer and causing a wave to rise up and knock against her knees. “See if I can get the whole way across on my belly!” She laughs at his boyish behaviour, shaking her head fondly as he forces his body under the water. When he surfaces again he comes up with a splash that carries up and over onto her lap, the spray catching her chest.

“El- Stop it! You’re gonna get my hair wet! Quit splashin’ me!” He frowns, swimming closer to where she’s still sat, resting his elbows on the edge of the pool on either side of her legs. 

“Awh doll, ain’t no fun just watching me!” She nods as if to say actually yes it is, but he ignores her, “No-one around here but us, c’mon honey, come and have a splash around,” She shakes her head, protesting, 

“It took me hours -  and I have a busy d-“ Elvis interrupts, imploring her to join him,

“Oh c’mon - I’ll, I’ll help dry ya hair if it gets wet!” She looks down at him, considering it for a moment, but before she knows it his hands are sliding up under her thighs where she was sat. He digs his fingers in as he tries to wedge them under and around her legs, and she giggles in response - somehow he was getting her exactly where she was most ticklish just above and behind her knees - and she thrashes around a little, but is trapped by his hands and the pool.

“No Elvis! You stop that rig-ight now - oh stop it!” She manages to get out between bouts of shrieking laughter, “You’re gonna make me - you’re gonna make me pee myself! Or, or,” He doesn’t stop but instead he seems to dance his fingers around even more at the threat, laughing himself, “or, or make me fall -“ He grins in sheer delight, tickling her once more before gripping her thighs tightly and tugging. She falls in with a splash, clutching at his arms and wet, soft, chest. She comes bobbing back up to him, gasping a little at the shock of the submersion. 

“Oh for goodness’ sake Elvis. It’s gonna take me hours to reset this; I’ll charge you the bill from the salon.” She sounds exasperated but she is, nonetheless, smiling. He just looks back at her, blinking, cheeks swollen like a chipmunk. “Don’t you dare - don’t even thi-“ The water shoots out his mouth, arcing up into the air before splashing down between them, his cheeks deflating as she squeals, backing away from the spray. He laughs joyously - boyishly, the kind of irrepressible giggle small boys seem to have while chasing someone - gripping her to him and pulling her close. 

“You wanna be my little bitty baby dolphin?” He offers her his back, “Wrap your arms round my neck and climb on.” She sighs a little resignedly but still enthusiastically clambers around to wrap her legs around his middle, the water’s natural buoyancy helping her to stay up, holding onto his neck and shoulders. “Go on then, hold tight!” She nods, tucking her head into his back,

“I’m ready!” He dives under the water, travelling for as far as he could with one breath before bopping back up just long enough to take a deep breath in and diving back under. As childish as Louise would find it to admit or confide to anyone else, she does close her eyes, pretending to be a little dolphin on the back of it’s mother, feeling the way the water seems to stream past in a way distinct from if she herself was doing the swimming. They come back up for the second time, this time to the sound of her gentle, giggling, breathless laughter matched to his own. 

Elvis turns her in his arms, pulling her around to be facing him but keeps a hand on her thigh, holding her legs still hiked around his waist. His other wrapping around her middle, to rest his palm on her back. She leans into his hold, her arms still wrapped around his neck holding him close, their faces practically touching. She takes a moment to examines his face. It’s funny, in some ways you’d have expected that by her frequent proximity she would have gotten over her tummy flipping every time she noticed something tiny, like the start of a pimple on his jaw, or the way his pores lay on his nose and yet still she feels almost giddy with being this close. 

“You wanna…” She’s sure he’s about to say kiss, and her eyes fall closed in permission, but before she knows it he’s pushing her to the side, “wanna race?” By the time she’s even registered what he’s said she’s a second behind, and he’s already swimming ahead. Louise rushes forward, grabbing his ankle and tugging him back, 

“Hey! Where d’ya think you’re going! You’re such a little cheat!” He laughs as he goes with his foot, hopping back to end up close to her again. He shakes his head, vehemently denying her accusation, 

“No - No! I was just gettin’ into position! Gonna go from this end to that end.” He points down at the curve of the pool. She drops his ankle,

“Hmm, well, if you say so…. So from here then?” She swims to the spot indicated and he joins her, agreeing. She nods at him as she gets into position, “You can call it.” 

“Ok.” He takes a moment to get himself ready before calling, “Ok, on your marks! Get set! Go!” He shoots off from the wall, Louise trailing behind for a second before catching up to him pretty closely. She could see, as she hit the wall on the other end, him coming towards her but she was pretty certain it had been a tie. He’s doing a victory pose, arms up, his tummy out, fake crowd noises coming from his mouth, “I won!” She shakes her head at his bragging, 

 “Nu-uh! I totally won!” Elvis turns, hair flicking back, 

“No, darlin’.” She goes to protest again but he steps closer, backing her against the wall of the pool, his tone lowering - crooning,  “No, I’m pret-ty sure I won and, that means I get a prize.” Louise has no desire to do anything but agree, his arms crossing behind her, his wide palms spanning across the small of her back. She leans forward, it’s not like they haven’t kissed before, but it had always been a brief thank you, or a stolen moment - and her tummy is suddenly aflutter with butterflies at the knowledge they were by themselves, in no rush nor with any other eyes on them, 

“What do you want for your prize?” He looks at her, eyes bright with the fun of the games and the anticipation of what was to come He just shrugs, waiting for her suggestion. She bites her lip, looking sideways for a second, trying for bashful but perhaps just coming across a little shy. “Hmmm, how about a kiss?” His eyes crinkle as he smiles fondly at her, almost as though he found her offer of a prize endearing. Louise blushes, immediately, as soon as she meets his eyes after saying it and for a brief moment panics that he might refuse. 

“Oh, I think that’s exactly what I deserve.” She pulls him closer, arms winding around his neck again, and her legs coming up to wrap around his waist as he stumbles forward to support her back against the pool wall. Their lips meet and she can’t seem to stop herself from gasping a little at the contact, at the feel of his full lips catching hers between them and the distinct taste of the chlorinated water still clinging to his lips. She tries to act casual, like she’s unbothered by the way the privacy of the moment feels like a revelation or in the way he catches her lip in his teeth causing a warmth to spread from her hips and stomach. 

He brings a hand up to cup her face, thumb lightly brushing her face, but as he tries to brush it down further to her neck it gets stuck - his pinky ring snagging on her now limp wet strands of hair. For some reason even after getting himself untangled the heavy atmosphere remained and she arched her chest into him, mouth opening as he pressed his lips back against hers. It feels like pure sparks crackling in the air when they pull apart, the air seemingly thrumming with it. It only takes a second, however, for them both to realise it wasn't just in reaction to their kiss, as a sudden crack of thunder and accompanying downpour explains the atmospheric change - humidity suddenly breaking.

“C’mon!” Elvis grabs Louise’s hand and pulls her around to the steps of the pool, pushing her up them before climbing out himself. He bundles up their towels, grabbing her hand and dashing for cover. 

They both end up in the kitchen, dripping everywhere, and tripping over themselves,  laughing as hard as they can as lightning cracks overhead. 

#writing prompt game #elvis fanfic #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis x oc #elvis presley x oc #elvis fluff #1950s elvis #elvis smut #be-my-ally #50s elvis #elvis imagine

[free-for-all-fics]

Stupid, silly Namor or Attuma fic ideas. Don’t think too hard about these they’re just funny little ideas. Pls tag me if you write or get inspired by any of these. Like always, there are no rules:

1. The reader is labeled as the village idiot because she likes to sing with her head underwater to "sing to the mermaids". The village ridicules her for it. One day, she is swept out in a riptide, and no one is willing to come to her aid—no one from the village, that is.

2. Reader is full of bad puns and dad jokes, much to the chagrin of Namor/Attuma. "Why are seagulls called seagulls?"

“Stop now.”

“Because if they flew over bays, they'd be bagels! Oh hey, What did one wave say to the other?"

“I swear, if you make one more ocean related pun, I will murder you on this island and tell everyone you died in a shipwreck."

"...well, someone's salty."

3. You put a message in a bottle and set it out to sea in the hopes it’ll reach Namor/Attuma so you can be pen pals. “Oh my god I love you but you’re so stupid.” They say because you have no idea that’s not how mail works.

4. You’re in love with Namor/Attuma, but you’re also obsessed with monsters and cryptids so you keep asking them questions like “Is the Kraken real?? What about 6 headed hydras? Have you seen Nessie?? Are they friendly? Darling tell meeeeeee”

5. Reader does that stupid prank thing where she pretends to do a magic trick with an egg and a bottle of water. She’s like “Ok now look inside” and squeezes the bottle, spraying water in Attuma/Namor’s face and runs away cackling.

6. You introduce Namor/Attuma to a wonderful human invention - Water beds. They are less than amused. Reader, consider your sexy time privileges revoked😑

7. Attuma/Namor trying to teach reader combat and how to fight like a Talokanil but reader keeps making it sexy and Namor/Attuma is like “Ok maybe we should stop. You’re not even listening to me or learning anything properly!” And reader is like “Oh I’m learning all the right techniques perfectly. 😏😘”

8. Those videos from EVNautilus of the people in a submarine coming across a dumbo octopus and a googly eyed stubby squid but instead it’s scientist reader being shown Talokan by Attuma or Namor and fawning over the sea creatures because they’re just little guys. Sweet underwater babies. And reader being like “it’s just a baby can I adopt it pls” 🥺 and Namor or Attuma being like “pay attention. Remember why we’re here.”

9. “Your child brings home a raccoon, mistaking it for a cat and begs to keep it” trope but instead it’s Namor/Attuma and their child has brought home an anglerfish or some other hideous abomination of the sea. It’s surprisingly docile and follows the child around like a pet anyway so can we keep it??? Please father 🥺

10. Namor and Jeff the Land Shark crossover. That’s it. That’s the post. Reader wants to adopt Jeff as their child. He’s just a baby 🥺

11. Peter Pan “They were just having a bit of fun, weren’t you, girls?”

“We were only trying to drown her” Mermaid Lagoon AU

12. “General, I’ve brought the cartographer into the war meeting today. I believe you owe her an apology for ruining all her maps when you stab them to dramatically mark a location.” (What if the “cartographer” is actually Attuma’s small daughter or sister drawing doodles of maps and playing pretend/mirroring what her dad or brother does because she wants to help and it’s all in jest hehe)

13. 2 days ago you went to an animal shelter and adopted the most adorable cat. What you don’t know is, he’s the reincarnation of an Aztec god. Your food offerings are unacceptable and that ugly small box that feels like it’s made from scratchy carpet will not do. No. He’ll be sleeping in your bed with you. Don’t try to lock him out; he’ll just scream and sing the songs of his people until you let him back in. (Or maybe through a magic mishap Namor has been accidentally transformed into a cat. Yeah Namor as a cat AU. I told you these ideas were silly.)

14. “Would you still love me if I was a worm” meme With Namor or Attuma but instead it’s “Would you still love me if I was a sea cucumber” or something ocean related

15. Namor or Attuma are taking their daughter trick or treating this year and ask what she wants to be for Halloween. A superhero, a mermaid, a princess? No. She wants to be a horseshoe crab. Possible Modern AU.

16. Reader goes to the beach often and befriends the seagulls/pelicans. So they start to bring her gifts like shells, rocks, etc. Except one day they bring you a golden bracelet, beaded necklace, or jade earrings (your choice of which). It’s unlike anything you’ve ever seen before. A few days later, Namor shows up at the beach, looking very annoyed as he asks for his necklace/bracelet/or earrings back.

17. You and Namor or Attuma meet on the beach in your special spot. You don’t get to be with him often considering he’s kept away by his responsibilities and loyalty to Talokan, and you’re human. It’s usually your only chance to have time where you can just quietly love each other. Except a stupid fucking seagull or pelican has been following you to both the beach and your home; squawking incessantly, wreaking havoc and basically cockblocking you. Untitled Goose Game AU but it’s a seagull/pelican.

#namor x reader #attuma x reader #namor imagine #namor x you #namor x y/n #namor fic #don’t examine these too closely #Dumb thoughts and ideas for silly time #sort of crack!fic ideas if you will #fic ideas

[strawhatsoraya]

Hiii! <3 So.. I wanna preface this by saying: OMG, I love your writing and I love reading your reblogged posts and quotes and I really hope that at some point I manage to write as beautifully as you do! The language just flows and.. .sighs I wish I'd say I was better at writing in my native language but I feel like that would be a lie. ANYHOW… may I request something…? Ace with a female reader, who feels bad for being a bit chubby? Just, like, you know, not the typical One Piece-hot-woman-figure, but perhaps (in her mind) a bit too much booty, too thick thighs, a too soft belly and (the only thing she's a bit happy with) quite decent breasts? But, baseline, is convinced that a hottie such as Ace would never ever consider her to be attractive. (What? Me? Self-inserting? Noooo. I'd NEVER. I totally don't think my PhD studies ruined my body worse than I'd like to admit. *coughs*) Could be fluffy. Or NSFW... which would make me especially happy. <3 If you feel up for it, of course!

Either way, I needed to tell you that I love scrolling through your new posts :D

I keep meaning to ask you what's your native language? I speak and write Spanish as well but my spelling, and grammar in Spanish is muy terrible. So I'm sure you're just fine lol. Anyway, so I know this was supposed to be a "reader doesn't think ace will find her attractive" and somehow it became a "two idiots don't know what they're doing or talking about" slow burn. I promise you I wrote it with my whole heart though. *does silly dance* AND IT'S NSFW. This fic consumed my mind for this whole day and I needed it to be done ASAP because otherwise I couldn't live. I hope you enjoy it!! Also you are absolutely the sweetest person ever. I'm so so so SO happy you love my writing. Your kind words and feedback are the best. Plus you're just so fun to talk to. BUT LET ME STOP BABBLING. HERE'S YOUR FIC.

ACE X CHUBBY FEM!READER | NSFW, Soft Smut ™, Slow Burn Babeyyy WORD COUNT: 9k (i have nothing to say for myself) CONTENT WARNING: alcohol consumption (because I am sora and I am a grown woman who likes to write about alcohol), profanity (not a lot but enough), angst galore, a sprinkle of fluff because it's cute decorations, unprotected sex (when will they learn???), groping, sloppy kisses because ace is passionate and means well but he is also eager, that being said oral female receiving with some sloppy head, nipple play, plenty of ass grabbing, biting, ace talks way too much for his own good, he is silly and just says things, and it might be embarrassing but that's just how he is, you know i love my repeating themes so if you hate that please stay away!!, is a hurricane/storm a warning? then yes, i guess dangerous time to be partying and having sexy but these are pirates, handjob, what else?, oh jealous ace is amazing, also flirty marco because i love marco sue me A SUMMARY: Ace comes aboard the Moby Dick, fire in his fists, fire in his eyes. Y/N wants to know his reason for fighting, but curiosity is a beast of a burden, and when feelings get swept up in the heat of his storm, Ace has to make a choice between reason and his heart.

I - A Disturbance : Wind & Fire

You were born in summer heat. Your mother's arms welcomed you into her world, sticky with sweat but full to the brim with love. Her plush lips against your temple, baptize you with a kiss. You grow, not like a palm tree all spindly trunk and leafy green top, but like a wild hibiscus tree; small and closely rooted to the ground with bushy branches covered in small leaves reaching out to the horizon. Like the Hibiscus, you dance in the wind, laughter trailing behind you. In your hair, its red flower entangles in curls. The sparkling water of the beach is always warm when you swim it. Your mother grows weary of warning you about the currents, and the treacherous waves. Eventually she gives up, names you her little mermaid, and braids beads into your hair that sparkle in the sun. Despite your mother's warnings you always find yourself there, at the cliff by the sea.

He is born in secret. He's born because there's nothing left. A mother's dying wish whispered into the soft spot on his head, to a dark curl who can't remember the words. In time, he runs as fast as his legs can carry him, through forests, creeks and mud. On the creak of the branches under his feet he tries to find that elusive promise; words he had sworn he never heard but somehow left a gaping hole. Sometimes he thinks he hears them in the howling wind. Sometimes he only feels it on the heat of his skin, when the sun is blistering hot above him. Heart torn in two, he always finds himself there, on a cliff looking out at the sea.

Like a Siren, it calls to them. On the horizon, the sun blinks as it sinks under the water, a fading beacon. The wind whips around their shoulders, tussling their hair with heated fingers. In their ears it whispers: come find me, I've been waiting.

You leave to the sea, as your mother always feared. She's inconsolable at the dock. You laugh to keep from crying, and wipe away her tears with the back of a small hand. She makes you promise to look out for yourself. Don't dive into the sea, she warns you with furrowed brows. Don't be impulsive. Don't head straight into storms. They forgive no one. You brush her worries aside with a kiss on her temple, before you bolt aboard the ship.

Several adventures later, you're aboard the Whitebeard Pirates ship. You offer your knowledge and skills in medicine; pair it with a big bright smile and hope for the best. Lady Luck favors you, beckons you with curling fingers. Another nurse is just what their ship needed—at least for now. Marco takes good care of you. He is patient, and kind. He is also easy on the eyes. It doesn't take long before you're being saddled with responsibilities.

You try your best, thinking your experience in wound care is your strongest skill among a ship of pirates. You did not share their strength, and undying courage but you did have wit, and you have a sharp tongue. You wielded them when necessary, the edge of your words a sharp scalpel. If you throw your words out fast enough, hard enough to kick up some dust they might not call you on your bluff. Compared to them, you couldn't help but feel like a soothing passing wind; barely noticed before you were gone, no impact, no trace left behind.

His entrance is violent, and eruptive. His presence disturbs the way of things, sending invisible critters scattering to seek refuge. You think you feel suffocating heat when you first see him. Portgas D. Ace is a forest fire at full flame, determined to devour everything, before you even noticed a spark. His eyes incinerate everything he glares at, thick brows furrowed together for so long you fear they are glued that way. Where his crew seemed agreeable even, accepting of their fates, he grew more restless by the day. You had to admire his tenacity. The sheer force of destruction his willpower possessed was alluring; dangerously seductive.

When he tries to take Whitebeard down for the 11th time, Marco is sick of it, and delegates you to the task. You swallow thickly, avoiding his gaze. You think Ace must not be a man of many words, as conversation is clipped and forced. It was just as well. The task was distracting enough. You try to remind yourself to keep your fingers moving as they brush over his skin when you apply antiseptic to gashes on his chest. He hisses, forcing your eyes up and away from the freckles you had been counting. His eye are dark pools that pull you into their depths, so deep you think they're bottomless. In your mind, your mother's warning echoes.

Don't dive into the sea.

You blink, and look away, feeling heat spread across your cheek; splotches of shame kept in secret. You try to focus instead, on the gauze on your hand, the warmth of his body under your fingers when you press it against his open wounds. You look up through your lashes when you apply pressure, wondering if a day would come when he didn't seem so closed off—so intriguingly unavailable. His jaw is set, teeth clenched so tightly all the time, you had half a mind to inspect his molars for cracks. His eyes flicker towards you and you pretend to inspect the bruise on his temple. You press a tentative finger against it, wondering if you could dip your fingertips into his thoughts that way. When he flinches, you move back to the gauze, wrap his wounds with soft bandage.

Your hands on his chest, you feel heat radiate from him, feel his heart beating steadily underneath. A heart never lied, each beat a tell tale sign. You try to listen closely to each secret told in a pulse against your palm.

Don't be impulsive.

You were never good at listening to your mother. Your mouth was quicker than your mind; traitorous and vile.

“Why do you keep fighting, if you can't win?” you ask him, slapping the bandages for good measure; assuring they stick, and assuring your message goes through. Ace flinches, and reaches for your wrist. His grip is strong, thick fingers wrapping around the width of your wrist. For a fleeting moment, you know you should fear him. You have seen what he's capable of, but the heat from his hand melts away all preconceived notions.

“Sometimes,” he says blinking down at you. His brows are furrowed together—they always are. You see his adam's apple bob up and down as he swallows. His thumb brushes once against the inside of your wrist. You think you hear a call—someone shouting from the sea. “Sometimes, you fight anyway. If it means protecting people you care about.” He lets you go, and you instinctively pull back, bringing your arm to your chest. He watches you fuss over your wrist momentarily before closing his eyes. He looks pained, and before you can offer him painkillers he's speaking again: “Maybe it's all I know how to do.”

II – The Depression : A Flickering Flame

He didn't mind at first, but now it felt like he shouldn't be there.

He shouldn't be sitting on the edge of the thin mattress of the nurses station. He shouldn't stand still when your short fingers tentatively palpated his injuries. He shouldn't watch you, like a seagull over water, searching—praying, as your teeth sank into the plushness of your bottom lip.

There was so much he should and shouldn't do, he no longer could keep it together. Ignoring you seemed like the right decision. It should have been easy. You were the enemy, if he wanted to be fastidious about it. A member of the Whitebeards Pirate was just someone else standing in the way of his goal. Most of all, his pride couldn't stand it. It couldn't stand the disappointed look in your dark eyes, and the way your mouth would twist into a little smirk when he would walk in. It couldn't stand the way you would immediately retract from him at the slightest hint of discomfort, how you would look at him like he was a wounded bird, wings teared at the joints, unable to fly again, sentenced to death.

It was pride that kept his mouth sealed shut. It was pride that stapled his tongue to the roof of his mouth. He wished pride would leave him blind instead. He wished to not notice how soft your hands are, how small and cute your hands were against his chest. He wished to not notice how he becomes disgustingly interested in your short chubby fingers, and wonders what kind of reaction he'd get if he could nibble on one or two. He wished to not notice how obsessive his thoughts are over the appearance of your skin; golden, and glowing on the apples of your cheek—how soft they looked. He wished he didn't think about it at night, when darkness wrapped her arms around him tightly. He wished he didn't think about your lashes, the look you give him through them that fills his mind with smoke.

Racing thoughts, and a racing mind. It took everything in him to keep them quiet. Your voice is soft when you speak, and his lips part, a beating heart trying to scream but no sound comes out. His cheeks feel hot, and he swallows awkward conversation prompts down. He chooses, instead, to fix his thoughts on something else, something more urgent: like how to defeat Whitebeard.

He simply couldn't afford to dawdle with you. Ace never thought twice on taking on a challenge, but you were a chasm he couldn't bring himself to jump across. If he missed, the fall could be deadly. He blinks when you speak again, your eyes fixated on his face. Ace quirks his left brow, and thinks he's offended you. He wants to speak quickly, heart beating against the sinew and bone keeping it prisoner, but the words tangle in his throat.

The door creaks open, and Marco walks in. You look away from Ace and smile at Marco, before forcing two round white pills into the crook of Ace's palm.

“Make sure you take those,” you tell him, as you force his fist closed. “You hit your head pretty good.” You reach up to rap your knuckles against the side of Ace's head lightly. “Gotta try to save whatever brain cell's are left fighting for their lives in there.”

Marco laughs as you stand up. Ace hears you chuckling lightly, as it grows into laughter. He takes a sharp breath through an open mouth, watches you as you turn to look at him over a shoulder.

He wishes pride would hurry the fuck up and blind him. He wishes it so bad, he crushes the pills in his fist into dust.

The sight of your ass stretching the nurse's uniform fills him with a heat he's not very familiar with. It settles at the pit of his stomach, and he stares at the door even after you leave. It isn't until Marco speaks that he brings himself back to the present.

“Why don't you join, Ace?” Marco asks, as he settles on the stool you were sitting on moments prior. Ace frowns down at it, annoyed at his thoughts—he wondered if it was still warm, and he hated that Marco would know the answer. “You know, it's not a bad deal. He treats us like his sons. We're all a little lost out here, kid. You don't have to be alone.”

Ace scoffs, mouth twisted into a crooked smile. He tilts his head as he watches Marco, trying to swallow the bitterness in the back of his mouth. His heart lurches, and he shuts his eyes. If he closes them tightly enough, perhaps the hopeless dream will go away. He never had a father figure, and never needed one. It was a lie he recited at night; a prayer to a faceless God.

“I don't need a father,” he mumbles at last, picking at a string on one leg of his shorts. Marco laughs. Ace looks up, frown back in place.

“Maybe, maybe not,” Marco agrees, reaching up to rub the back of his head. “But why don't you try? What do you got to lose? It's not like you have any manners.” Ace begins to protest but Marco's laughter caught him off again. “And you might learn how to properly talk to a lady.”

Ace thinks his head might start catching fire. He pats his hair quickly.

“I don't need any help with that!” he says loudly, an elbow digging into a thigh as he leans forward to scowl at Marco.

“Oh, yeah?” Marco says trying to keep his laughter at bay. His smile is crooked, and insufferable. “Is that why you looked like a fish gaping for air when I walked in? Very convincing.”

Just when Ace thinks there is no way he could be more embarrassed, he feels his blush deepening, freckles almost obfuscated. He promises Marco to think about it, and he does his best, but thoughts of you plague him afterward. Your laughter that carried in the wind to him, the way it felt like it sank into his scars, the way it burned and made new ones in return.

III – A Simmering Storm

The needle on his back, sinks into his skin time and time again, embedding ink to stay forever. It is liberating, in a sense, marking himself with a brand of his own choosing. So much unlike the one stamped upon him at the time of his birth; the son of a monster, a nuisance, someone not worthy of the space they took up in the world. No longer did he have to search for reason, or an excuse. Ace could simply be, and he welcomed his newfound drop of happiness with a toothy grin.

A celebration at him joining the ranks, and being able to be commander of the second division seemed a bit over the top but he liked merriment—and the food and alcohol was too enticing. The darkening clouds in the distance threatened to dampen his mood, and the crowd on the deck of Moby Dick. Murmurs spread the word of an oncoming storm but nobody seems particularly worried. The only thing on their mind is how fast they could drink and eat before they got rained out.

The only thing on your mind was the blooming ache in your chest. You try to soothe it with a hand, smearing your palm against your voluminous chest. The crop top is soft under your skin. You try to memorize this, instead of the radiant smile on Ace's face. He had never seemed so undoubtedly happy as he did now. A different feeling settled between your ribs, a pang so bitter it causes you to hiss. Jealousy was a monster you squashed down with angry fists every time you saw one of the nurses place a hand on Ace's bicep. You never thought you would have to beat it down into submission while picturing the face of your own captain.

You're happy for him, truly. You mutter to yourself, over and over, drink after drink. You're elated, even, that he has finally come to accept the bright side of things. You're happy that he has been given a position that you feel is well earned, one that you hope he can excel at.

You're happy for him. You really are.

You're so fucking happy it hurts to breathe. You force another deep breath into your lungs, the air is humid and the scent of rain floods your senses. You blink back the wetness in your eyes, and when Marco asks if you are okay you blame pollen. Marco tilts his head, but chooses not to pursue the subject. Instead, he swaps your empty cup with his. You barely notice. You're too busy thinking about where the sea will take Ace next.

Something in your chest seizes—panic, or fear. It rises like heat from the ground, a crackling electricity flying up through the stale air that keeps you trapped on the ground. You try not to move too much, you fear jostling your thoughts, fear that if they move too much—touch a certain way, sparks would fly, singing you to a crisp; charred and useless.

He is happy, truly.

It wasn't something he could have ever dreamed of or imagined. He smiles as people congratulate him. Alcohol tastes sweet on his heavy tongue. He barely tastes his food as he pummels it into his mouth. He pictures what it would be like, sailing away from this ship, to complete tasks he would be responsible for. He pictures what it would be like to tend to his own wounds, what it would be like to sit at whatever island he found, and not hear your laugh.

He is happy. He really is.

He's so fucking happy, he thinks he feels sick. It's not anxiety. Ace could never admit that. Anxiety over what? He did not fear death. He never had a good reason for living anyway. You could only fear death if you were bound to the living. Then what was binding him to this ship? It felt like a vortex, a cone ensnaring him and trapping him to his spot; a gust of wind that kept bringing him back to you, no matter how many times he moved around this damned ship.

He tries moving again, taking his mug of beer with him. You bump into him with your ass against his. He turns around, ready to pick a fight but sees your heated cheeks instead. You mumble an apology that he laughs off. His hand moves before he controls it, and he ruffles your hair—something he knows you loathe.

“I'm not a puppy,” you hiss, pursing your lips. Ace drinks quickly from his mug, to refrain from sighing.

“Then why do you look like one?” he asks you, and leaves through the crowd. You lose track of him quickly, and decide to stomp around on the spot. It was easier than to think about the way he had looked at you, and how it had set your face on fire.

You do your best to mingle. You notice he does the same, but you're never far from each other. It feels comical in a strangely annoyingly tragic way. When you squeeze between Thatch and Izou to refill your cup, your hand brushes against something warm. You follow the hand to see Ace's tattooed bicep. When your eyes meet, thunder splits the sky. You move quickly, wordlessly, determined not to see his face against for the rest of the night.

The sea has other plans. The ship begins to move more than usual, and your legs still not quite so strong, threaten to have you rolling over. You blame the alcohol of course, when you land on Izou's back. He steadies you with a tight smile as you giggle, and spins you in place trying to send you in the opposite direction but your eyes meet Ace's again. The ship lurches, and you stumble forward. His body is warm, and inviting, you giggle at the ridiculous situation—as people continue to bump into each other mid-party. You try to move again, but your legs betray you. His arms hold you up, and brings you closer to him. Your body is soft against his, plush and delightful. You look up at him with a tiny small, eyes hazy from the alcohol, and Ace swears he hears the sky split open.

You're on your way again before he can say anything else. It was probably for the best. He loses track of how much he drinks. He could still feel his face, could still keep track of his thoughts—filled to the brim with you, and concludes he clearly hasn't drunk enough. He holds on to this as he grips the railing so tight, it cracks under his fingers at the sight of you with Marco.

Marco was so kind, and so friendly. His hands were soft around your waist. You know it was shameful, to giggle at all his silly little jokes, but the alcohol has you feeling weightless—for once. You almost don't feel the wind against your cheeks, you don't feel it whipping your hair around. You let Marco pull you closer, his hand pressed against the small of your back. It was better this way. It was better Marco than a ship sailing to a destination unknown.

He drops the mug of beer. It splashes on the deck, and he feels liquid splash against his knee. Ace clenches a fist as he moves, fire erupting from his knuckles before it swallows his hand whole. Drops from the sky grow heavier. They sizzle as they reach his wrist, little wispy vapor rising from the flames like warning flags. Ace breathes through his nose and wills himself to smother the flames. They die out by the time he reaches you, but there's a fire in his chest, flames behind his eyes he can't control.

The sight of Marco's hand very comfortable in the small of your back almost threatens to set him on fire again. Marco's mouth is so close to your ear, Ace thinks he must smell the lotion off your skin the same way he smelled it off you so many times before; the one that always drove him mad, who forced him to imagine tropical islands, to dream of coconuts and beaches, of you and sandy dunes. Your smile takes his breath away, and when he sees it's aimed at Marco it fills his lungs with lead instead. Your lashes flutter, and Ace sees a drop of water fall and cling to the apple of one your cheeks. He follows its path until it rolls off from your jaw.

As the last rays of light glints on the surface of it, a spark goes off.

His hand is around your wrist. Marco moves away slightly, only pulling away to look at Ace with a quizzical expression. His smile is frozen in place as he tries to assess the situation. He laughs, and naturally Ace feels like he should punch him in the mouth for it. Marco looks over to you, to pull a response from you when he begins to talk but your eyes are nowhere near on him. You are too focused on Ace's face instead.

You zone in on the arch of his left eyebrow, the narrowing of his dark eyes, the slight curl of his top lip. Rain starts pouring down. You watch rivulets of water streak down the side of his face. You try to breathe as he watches you, try not to think about his fingers wrapped around your wrist but you can't stop yourself from wanting to know. You want to know what it means. You want to decipher that look in his eyes, the dark clouds forming, the way you think you see lightning.

Your mother's words ring one more time. Don't head straight into storms.

A gust sweeps you off your feet, a dream so airy and full of promises you think you can fall forever if it meant he'd look at you this way for another breath, and another.

IV – The Hurricane

It wasn't enough.

He could consume every drop of alcohol aboard the Moby Dick, pour into his mouth ounce after ounce like his life depended on it, and it still wouldn't be enough.

There's nothing, not a sobering thought, not the lightning in the sky, not the dark clouds in the distance, that could free him from the hold you have on him. Your eyes are so big and round you remind him of the softness he hated in himself, the same he tried to strangle with his own hands. In you, it only made him want to kiss you. Right there. Right now. Ace swallows down the last of his apprehensions. He tightens his grip around your wrist, and thinks everyone and everything could go to hell and stay there. If he caused a scene by dragging you away, he simply did not care.

Nature had other plans. The wind picks up, the sea fights back. Waves rise, and rock the Moby Dick—a feat that's not as easy as it sounds. Marco gives you one last look before he scrambles away, shouting orders to the crew. They desperately climb to close the sails, but you can't finish watching them work. Ace drags you away from the deck, down a path you're ashamed to be familiar with.

In his room, he finally lets you go and you stumble forward with momentum. You hear the door close, and a lock click. You spin around belatedly, trying to keep your arms from swinging too much and losing your balance to see Ace's back pressed against the door.

He watches you from where he stood, hair soaked through. His raven curls are slicked against his forehead, so he runs a large hand through his hair, pushing it back and away from his face. He can't be bothered to find his hair a nuisance. Not when you're standing in front of him, wet from head to toe. You're out of your nurses' uniform, something he is not used to seeing. Your hair is lose and partially wet, wavy tendrils sticking to your cheeks and shoulders. Your round face looks precious, he swallows as he fights the urge to cradle it in his hands. Your wide eyed expression forces a chuckle out of him, one he tries to hide on the back of one hand.

He notices belatedly, and with a little remorse, the slight blue tint on your bottom lip and the redness on your cheeks. Your eyes are hazy, heavy lidded, and he tilts his head at you, dopey smile on his face.

“You were having fun,” he mentions, eyes trailing away from your cheeks to your torso, the dips on your sides that make your waist. The soft rolls that settle there make him want to touch you. He raps his knuckles on the door behind him instead, fingers tapping without rhythm; anything, and everything to keep himself controlled, especially at the sight of your wide hips, the thickness of your thighs.

“Yeah, I was actually,” you finally find your voice to speak. You swallow with difficulty, slapping a hand against a thigh, over your wet jeans. “Anyway,” you mumble, pinching the bridge of your nose. You should stay focused. You do your best, but the sight of Ace's bare chest reminds you of how warm he is and how frigid your fingers currently are. You'd love to warm them up right now, skim them over his toned abs. “Why did you do it?”

“Do what?” he asks you quietly.

“Drag me here. Can't you see?” you start, licking your lips, feeling very very parched when you follow the small trail of hair beginning at the bottom of Ace's belly button, and disappearing underneath his shorts. “I have working legs!” You make a show of lifting each one, one at a time, and pointing obnoxiously. “See? Perfectly healthy.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, pushing away from the door. He walks slowly towards you, steps hesitant and careful. His eyes roam over your body. You watch him drag his gaze from the top of your head, to your feet, and back up again at an excruciatingly slow pace. Your heart accelerates, and it thunders in your ears. “You're perfectly healthy,” his voices comes in softer now that he's standing in front of you. “I can see that.” Ace hands wrap around the roundness of your shoulders. He slides them down slowly from the short sleeves of your crop top, thick callused fingers skimming along the back of your plush and soft biceps. Your skin is soft, tantalizing. It feels as if he shouldn't touch you. It feels sinful, something he has no privilege to but he continues anyway, down to your wrists until his fingers grip yours gently. Ace tightens his hold on your hands and pulls you closer to him.

He wraps your arms around his waist. You don't fight him. You move; a leaf carried in the wind. Your fingers grip around his belt loops, as he dips his face to the crook of your neck. His hot breath fans against your skin, when he drops the softest kiss—his lips, or the wind, you're not sure. He nuzzles the exposed skin, using his nose to move the neckline of your crop top as much as he can to drop more soft kisses. You're colder than he expected, so he holds you tighter, until your softness fills all his hard edges and gaps. Your curves are a pleasant surprise. He had expected some of it from the way you filled the skirt of your uniform but seeing you out of it had been a vision he shouldn't be worthy of.

He shouldn't be worthy of any of it. He shouldn't enjoy the way your hips feel under his hands, but he still runs them over them up and down, over and over again. He shouldn't enjoy their width, the way the flesh caves under his grip, how his fingers dig deep and it still isn't enough to touch all of you. He shouldn't enjoy the way your skin feels so impossibly soft against his lips, as if it melts under his heat; snow under a sunny sky. He shouldn't enjoy the scent of your skin, the scent of your lotion that brings him to the brink of madness. He shouldn't enjoy the way you sigh his name when he sucks on your pulse, and grabs your ass. He shouldn't tell you the way he thinks no matter how much alcohol swims in his veins. He shouldn't tell you the way he feels, but words bubble up his throat and out his mouth—a freshwater brook whose source he can't define.

“You feel so good,” he moans against your ear, when he pushes his hips forward. Your eyes flutter at the feel of his erection against the softness of your belly. “I love touching you, Mermaid.” The nickname usually bothers you; given in passing because you loved swimming in the sea despite the dangers, but from his lips it feels like a spoken song; a poem only for you. “You smell so good,” he licks the shell of your ear, bites on the sensitive cartilage on top. You gasp, and dig your nails into his back, desperately holding on to whatever was left of your self preservation. “Do you know how sick I was?” He thinks he should punish you, and so he does, nipping at the sensitive skin of your neck. You yelp, and slap his back but it doesn't deter him. He smiles against your skin, licks the blooming bruise with a flat and sloppy tongue. “When Marco's hands were all over you. I thought I was going to burn. I couldn't stand it. I couldn't stand a second of it.”

His words sound desperate. You try to stay present by drawings circles on his back with your fingertips. The storm screams outside the room. You hear the wind pick up its shrill song, tinny and distant. Water pelts against the small circular window on the door, a drumming sound that soon grows deafening.

“Ace,” you try to interrupt his rambling, but his hands are tangled in your hair. His lips brush against your temple, before he speaks against your head.

“I felt sick watching you. It felt like I was in pain,” he groans into your hair. His hips press against you again. You bite down on your lip hard enough to inflict pain. You rub circles on his back, and force yourself to focus once more. His words come in belatedly, sound traveling a long distance in the air. You press your small hands against his chest.

“Where does it hurt?” you ask him, brows furrowing together. Leave it to Ace, to be injured in a moment like this. You shake your head, not sure to trust yourself or his words. You should have drank less. You should have stayed away from Ace. You should have left with Marco instead. Ace presses his forehead against yours. His breath tickles your nose. He moves his hand over yours. His fingers clutches your hand, and warmth seeps from him to you. You feel it sink it, seep into the rest of your arm and down to your elbow leaving a tingling sensation.

“Here,” he breathes out in a whisper. He squeezes your hand, presses it closer to his chest. “In here.” He pats your hand once, and again, repeatedly in a rhythm that matches his heart beating under your palm. Ace moves slowly, and gently brushes his nose against yours. His heart beats faster under your hand. Your eyes are tethered to his mouth. You can't look away from the sight of his lips parting, as if he couldn't catch his breath. You feel your mouth do the same, feel the air in your lungs run out; breathing is not enough, nothing is enough. His head tilts, and you follow his lead; reflections on still water.

“Idiot,” you finally whisper, a breathy laugh bouncing away from your mouth. He feels it reach his lips, and he swallows it whole in his mouth. “You mean your heart?”

“Yeah,” he admits fighting a smile, his lips brushing against yours. “My heart.”

You should laugh it off. You shouldn't take him seriously. A drunken confession would be forgotten the moment the sun rose again but there is a screaming in the back of her mind—distant and ancient like Sirens on rocky shores. The storm grows louder outside. You had always thought you were a serene passing wind, something to soothe and lick old wounds better; something to be forgotten once you left, but the heat of Ace's breath against your mouth, spun around you in circles. It transformed you into something bigger than you thought you could be. You wanted to be bigger. You wanted to be something destructive, something that would tear him from limb to limb, leave him with the wreckage of your path so he could have something to remember you by when he was gone.

You reach out, hands seeking a target. You clasp his face as you smash your mouth against his. He hums into the kiss. It's clumsy and forceful. You leave him no room to push back, no gap to slip his tongue past your defenses. It isn't until he is grabbing fistfuls of your ass to pull you closer to him, to rub his bulge against your belly once more that you concede. You gasp, and it's the only weakness he needs to exploit. His tongue strokes against yours, hunger forcing him to be overzealous. He is sloppy, and imprecise, kisses so wet saliva coats your lips, making them shiny under the yellow sconce's lights of the room. Ace knows he should slow down, show a little finesse but your ass feels divine in his hands. He had been watching it the whole time during the party, watched you saunter back and forth, hips swaying; teasing him.

He moves against you, and you step backwards, the ship swaying enough to make you forget your route. You land against the wall with a thud, your plush ass making you bounce slightly in Ace's embrace. He laughs against your mouth, nipping at your bottom lip. “Nice,” he mumbles before he takes your bottom lip for a long and noisy suck. “It's like a safeguard.”

You groan, hands traveling down the wideness of his back, and over his shorts. They settle over his ass, and you return the favor, digging your fingers into the muscle. He groans loudly, pushes his hips immediately against yours and grinds against your lower belly. The smell of wine on your mouth threatens to intoxicate him further. He closes his eyes as he pushes against you, feeling precum starting to soak through his underwear. Your tongue feels perfect in his mouth. He sucks on it time and time again, taken in by the sheer softness of it. How it doesn't feel unfamiliar at all, as if he had kissed you thousands of times before.

He wished he had kissed you that many times already. He wished he could tuck away those memories somewhere no one could take them away from him.

Every time he kisses you, it feels like dying, and it feels like coming back to life. You've died hundreds of times already, hundreds of little deaths by his hands and by every stroke of his tongue. You think you smell smoke in his hair when he holds you close, when he whispers sweet things in your ear before biting down your neck, leaving a trail of bruises in his wake. His hands are weapons he uses to tear your down. Their heat eviscerates all your defenses. It kills you how they feel so hot, even over your clothes. How when he drags his palms over your belly, you want to feel them lower, towards the center of your legs. Your belly is soft, and pliable, he squeezes and kneads until he memorizes it. His hands move to your sides, where he grips the soft flesh, the rolls that are tender in his hold.

Your cheeks color, and your heart flutters. Embarrassed, you swat his hands, and move them away from your waist.

“Don't push my hands away,” he says annoyed, going back to grab your sides. “Before I--”

You cut him off with a kiss, pressing your mouth hotly against his. You wrap your arms around his neck. “Shut up,” you say breaking the kiss. You kiss the corner of his mouth, and up his jawline. “If you say it—I'll leave.” You press your mouth against his pulse, and a soft spot behind his head. “I'll walk out right now. Don't even say it.”

He kisses you, and you crumple under the weight of it. It feels like a last desperate attempt at silencing you, at keeping you here with him. His heart is in tatters. He tries to ignore the debris of it, the way it splinters off into pieces. Ace deepens his kisses, crushes you against his chest, and traps you tightly between him and the wall. He knows the truth. He knows the more he kisses you, the more he'll discover all the things he wondered about you, the more he'll become familiar with your softness—the more he'll miss you. A feeling of unworthiness crawls out of a well. He tries to smother it with another kiss, one you moan into. You bring a leg up and he holds on to it, hooks it around a hip and pushes against you, his cock feeling painfully hard. He thrusts his hips, and he tries to forget every touch of your fingers on his back, how your trail them along his muscles, leaving memories in them he could never forget, memories you shouldn't give him so willingly.

He should be the one to walk out without a further word. If it hurt you, it would mean you'd never look at him again. That was the right thing to do. He should let you go immediately. He should stop craving the heat of your body. He should stop pushing against you, and moaning into the crook of your neck, giving into every desire and fantasy that had filled his body since he met you.

He should. But he couldn't stop himself from being selfish. Just this once. For once, he wants to seize a semblance of happiness by his own hands without needing a reason for it—without needing a reason to simply exist.

Ace brings you to his bed, pushes you down until you're seated on the edge of his mattress. He kneels before you. You blink, mouth surprisingly dry considering all the wet sloppy kisses Ace had been giving you. You lick your swollen lips, and think you taste beer in the corner of your mouth; residual of Ace's conquest. Ace kisses your cheeks—one at a time. He reaches around you to the bow holding your crop top together. He unties it easily, and just as easily pulls it over your head. You don't know where it lands, and it honestly doesn't matter. The only thing that matters is the way Ace's eyes land on your breasts, the way he licks his lips as if he's gearing up for a feast.

He wasn't expecting you to not a have a bra, but he couldn't complain either way. Once again, he is amazed at his sheer stupidity. How he had never noticed the size of your breasts, how large they were and how beautifully they hanged from your frame. He swallows thickly, wishing he had done this sooner. He presses his mouth against the middle of your chest, hands tentatively taking in the weight of your breasts. He palms them gently, cupping and lifting as he moves his fingers. His intentions are well meant. Ace would love to take his time with you, but you react so deliciously when he flicks his thumbs over your hardened nipples, mewling against the top of his head that he felt like he had no choice.

If his hand felt like furnaces, his mouth is incomparably vicious. The heat of his tongue is paralyzing. When he sucks on a nipple, his free hand twisting the other one between thumb and index finger, your toes curl. Your panties cling to your folds, covered in your slick since earlier. You whimper, embarrassed and aroused as Ace continues his streamlined assault. His teeth leave marks over the swell of your breasts. You respond to every lick and nibble he gives. Your soft moans leave goosebumps on his skin, reminding him that this is him making you moan, him who has you scraping your nails against his scalp.

He shouldn't—but he smiles—thinking Marco can go kick rocks. He bites down on a nipple, a bit too hard, at the thought. He should mark you more, lest anyone get any ideas.

And like that, his heart aches. Ace sighs against the side of your breast, licks over a bruise in apology. He shakes his head, trying to dislodge thoughts that had no business polluting his mind. He wonders what would happen if he leaves you for too long. Would you move on? His fingers stumble to unbutton your jeans so he tries again. Of course, you would. Who wouldn't? Marco seems to like you, and what's not to like about Marco?

Desperate, he finally unhooks the button. You fall back on the mattress with a surprised squeak when he pushes you. Ace tugs your jeans off. You see him standing between your legs, as he unbuckles his belt, and drops his shorts. You hear the thud on the ground, the creak of the mattress as he joins you.

He cages you in, and you immediately reach out. Your fingers splay against his broad chest. His shoulders are wide, and strong, muscles rippling with every movement he makes. The yellow lighting of the sconces compliment the golden tone of his skin. You bite your lip, and rub your legs together, deeply aroused when you brush your fingertips against his muscular abs. Lightning strikes, and bathes him in a flashing white light. You see for a moment, every freckle on his shoulder, and chest. You run your fingers over them, connecting the dots, making up little galaxies on his chest and shoulders and committing them to memory. You'd remember these later, on lonely nights, and hold your hand to the ceiling, pretending that if you trace over the memory of them you could bring Ace back to you like a spell; like a wish.

His kisses scatter your thoughts, little stars clouding your vision. His mouth is on your neck, and on your chest. Heated, and wet. He leaves hot wet trails of saliva wherever he goes, coating you with his smell. He kisses your belly, and nibbles on the soft flesh underneath your belly button. His fingers dancing over your thighs. Ace moves lower as you hum, parts your legs to drop kisses on the inside of your thighs. For a split second, you consider being embarrassed at the state of your arousal but you are past the point of caring. Soaked right through your panties, all you want is for Ace to keep kissing you.

He smells you before he sees it—before he sees the big wet spot in your underwear. Ace chuckles, and you reach out to swat at his head but he is faster than you—as usual. He grabs your wrist and kisses the inside of your palm.

“Don't be like that, Mermaid,” he says in a good mood, smile wide and crooked. He looks up at you through black lashes, a faint flush over his cheeks. “I know how much you love being wet.”

You think about screaming, and beating him senseless for saying something so embarrassing but when he pulls your panties down in one quick move you are left speechless. Just as quickly, his mouth is on your pussy. He gives long, meticulous licks; ones he uses to slurp up every drop of your arousal. He uses his fingers to part your folds, and traces your slit with the flat of his tongue. Your back arches, and you moan loudly, hands flying to tangle in his black curls. He is noisy, but he does not miss a spot. He slurps up a lip, sucks on it gently. He flicks his tongue around your sensitive nub, making you shiver and tremble.

Just when you think you can't take the heat of his mouth any longer, Ace pulls your lips apart again, and slips his tongue inside your aching pussy. He thrusts it in and out, upping the pace the more you moan. He slurps up, wet and noisy to suck on your clit. His fingers tease your entrance before he slips two inside you. He scissors his fingers inside, the squelching so loud and lewd, you're forced to slap a hand to cover your mouth. It is sinful, and you wonder if you should worry when you grow hornier the louder the wet sounds get. He curves his fingers, seeking out that spot that makes your toes curl. His moans against your clit as he sucks vibrates against you, and you cry out as you cum. Your pussy flutters around his fingers as you reach your peak, little tremors running their course throughout your body.

The way you look so disheveled makes him want to stay down there longer. He'd love nothing more than to feast on your pussy all night long, but his throbbing cock is becoming increasingly harder to ignore. He moves to climb over you, but the ship tilts when a particularly large wave comes. Ace sways, but you reach out to grab him by the arm before he rolls off the bed. You pull him towards you, and laugh at Ace's shocked expression. He laughs with you for a moment, before it dies out. Your eyes captivate him—their sparkle too bright to be dimmed by the yellow lighting of the room, or even by the darkness of the storm outside the room. Ace kisses your cheek, and licks your ear. He laughs into your hair when you yelp, and hit his shoulder with a tiny fist, your own laughter overtaking his.

“Your laughs always carries so easily,” he says quietly, a hand brushing hair away from your face. You wrinkle your nose up at him. “You know that? I always hear you wherever I go.”

There's a breath that refuses to come back to you. It stays there behind Ace's smile. You swallow, following the path of his trail of dark hair that starts at his belly button. You grip the tip of his cock gently, and watch his brows knit together, teeth clenching to keep from moaning. You brush a thumb against his slit. His lips part, eyes fluttering close, and as you squeeze your hand down his shaft, he lets go; a moan flying past the front of his teeth. He is thick in your hands. You move them gently at first, taking in the sight of him above you. His dark hair spilled around him like a curtain.

His eyes that he fights so hard to keep open but flutter close every time you squeeze his pink tip just right. He cusses under his breath, upset he can't watch you jerk him off, how he can't keep the sight of your white teeth sinking into your berry colored bottom lip in his vision.

You are mesmerized by the sight of him. You try your best to commit to memory the planes of his face, the sharpness of his jawline. You rub your legs together as you stroke, enjoying the way your slick slides down your thighs. You love how vulnerable he looks, how soft his expressions is as he gives in to you, his dark lashes that flutter open and close, the freckles on the bridge of his nose; everything leaves their residue behind like sticky fingers on glass.

You feel his hand swat yours away from his cock. “Stop,” he whines in a hiss, eyes opening partially. He frowns down at you, cheeks bright red, mouth hanging open. “I don't want to cum like that. I want to cum inside you. With you.” There's no time to think, you feel him shift your legs, and feel the tip of his cock pressing against your entrance. He pushes inside you, slowly, inch by inch. Your mouth drops open, a sound that refuses to leave your body. When he bottoms out, you moan gently, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

Your thighs are thick and plush as they tighten around his strong hips. Ace feels as he would be swallowed whole—like a small vessel in a raging sea. If you wanted to drown him, he'd let you, if that's what you really wanted. He grunts with every slow thrust of his hips, wanting to feel you first, let you adjust around him. He's only begun, but he feels you fluttering around his cock, senses the tightening of your grasp around his shoulders.

He picks up the pace, as the storm rages. You're panting against his hear, so loud that even the thunder can't drown you out when you moan. Lightning splits the sky, over and over, bathing your sweaty body underneath him in bright white. He tries to remember the pieces of you, the soft breasts pressed against his chest, the sight of his cock disappearing into your soaking pussy. He tries to remember the sound of the rain, how it compliments your voice when you sigh into his neck. He pushes against you faster, deeper, your moans grow closer and louder. The scent of rain and wet wood floods the room along with the scent of your arousal. Ace can almost taste it on his tongue all over again, as he breathes through his mouth, panting loudly—moaning when you clench around his cock again.

His cologne makes you delirious—mahogany, and sweet blossoms, or it's the thickness of his cock or both. You bite his neck, scream into the crook of his neck when he picks you up slightly by the hips, when he angles his thrusts and slaps his hips against yours viciously enough to bruise. His cock pushes against your gummy walls, stretching you out until it's almost painful. He is so hot and warm inside you, you feel like you're melting, as if your body is built by nothing but pleasure and pleasure alone. You bite his shoulders, leaving marks behind. Your attack is as relentless as his thrusts. You continue to sink your teeth into his shoulders, and his neck, you nibble at his jawline.

He loves it. He loves the pain you leave behind. Ace digs his fingers into your hair, and he tilts his neck to give you more access—anything to keep you going. He groans with every thrust into your pussy, his heavy balls slapping against your thick and plush ass so noisily he worries for a second someone might hear.

“Go ahead,” he whispers to you when you nibble on his neck once more, groaning right after. “Make it hurt.” It is a fitting punishment, he thinks. Pain always left the deepest scars. If it was you, he'd take the scars with him.

The wind picks up more, the shrill tinny scream rises, banging against the round window on his door. It pounds at the glass, demanding tribute. Ace cries out when your pussy clenches around his cock, his body tensing before it relaxes at his climax. He releases, spilling into you, hot cum that oozes slightly out of your cunt. You stay tangled with him in his bed sheets, lightning coloring your bodies in bright white every now and then. Heat envelops the room, a humidity so thick it feels suffocating; muggy. Your bodies covered in sweat, are slippery, almost uncomfortable but you don't care.

You don't care about the incessant heat beaming off his body, you don't care how his hair sticks to your skin when he nuzzles in your neck, you don't care bout the storm outside the door, the angry sea. You bring your hand to Ace's chest, feel his heart thumping against your palm. What you care about is there, under skin and bone, just out of reach.

You shut your eyes when he kisses your lips, when he holds your face in his hands.

Your mother's words cut through the screams of the hurricane outside. Don't head straight into storms. They forgive no one.

But who was the storm? Was it him? Was it you? Who's to forgive if there's no one left in the wake of the storm?

#ace x y/n #ace x reader #ace x you #portgas ace x reader #portgas d. ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #one piece x reader #ace smut #fic request #for the cummunity!

[allwaswell16]

All the One Direction fics I read and enjoyed in Dec 2022. You can listen to my podcast to hear me talk about each of these fics as well as an overview of what was posted on ao3 including the fics on this month’s fic roundup which you can find here! Please let the writers know if you liked the fics by leaving kudos and comments! Happy reading!

Fanfictional Podcast #45 |  ko-fi | fic recs

-Larry-

Chasing, Searching, Dreaming by @parmahamlarrie

(E, 46k, soulmates au) Harry has known who his soulmate is since he was twenty years old, and ever since, he has been waiting for Louis to be ready for him. 

I Keep Looking For Magic by @lululawrence

(NR, 36k, fake relationship) Harry cannot go home alone when he had promised to bring a significant other again. 

Set the Sky Alight, Oh Holy Night by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup

(T, 33k, roommates) One house, five almost-strangers (plus Niall), six new beginnings.

reckless behaviour by @nouies

(E, 13k, strangers to lovers) Harry is a retired football player looking for a new opportunity. Louis is the image consultant hired to help him find it.

It Started with a Spark by exceptionallyordinharry / @exceptionally0rdinary

(NR, 6k, canon) Could the magnetic pull he feels towards a certain curly-haired cutie be about more than friendship?

come my love be one with the sea by CuckooTrooke / @larrydoinglaundry

(M, 6k, mermaid au) Pirate captain Louis gets saved from the storm by mermaid Harry, and grows particularly fond of this mysterious creature.

Seems You Cannot Be Replaced by QuickedWeen / @becomeawendybird

(M, 5k, high school) Harry and the popular boy in school, Louis Tomlinson, share a tension-filled night together when they're young. Fifteen years later they see each other again.

Love In Conversation by @hellolovers13

(T, 5k, baking au) Louis has a severe baking breakdown. Thankfully, he gets help from baking-hotline operator Harry.

Tide's Deathless Death by Jennifer_Kaid / @poetsreprieve

(E, 4k, pirate au) There was no single man who had survived after taking up arms against the captain.

Every Boy is a Lily (series) by docklands / @hershelsue

(M, 3k, trans Harry) Harry moves to Paris. With no one to talk to, he makes friends with his neighbour from the window next to his, a painter named Louis with a burning passion for life.

Chicago by @hellolovers13

(G, 3k, exes to lovers) They hadn't seen each other in four years, why was Louis still writing songs about Harry?

-Rare Pairs-

Me And You Is All I've Ever Known by restless_rebels / @restless-rebels

(T, 24k, Louis/Zayn) “I love you! And I always will! I’m going to come back and prove that!” Louis shouted down the hall as Zayn opened the front door.

When you love someone, you make room by louloubaby92 / @louloubabys1992

(E, 20k, Louis/Jamie Campbell Bower) Jamie Campell Bower is a big deal, of that Louis is sure. He's a walking charmer with a jawline to die for. So, it's a bit of a surprise when Jamie looks his way, let alone approaches him to chat him up.

Sweet Talk (series) by wordsnnotes / @quelsentiment

(M, 12k, Louis/Niall) Niall easily deflects her, though, then grabs the collar of Louis’ leather coat with her unnaturally strong grip and throws her back into the wall where she came from. If Louis had been human, she might have been knocked out. It’s a good thing that she isn't.

The Concept Of Controlled Love by Kikiberoski16 / @larrysballetslippers

(E, 10k, Louis/OMC) Louis and Andrew make a deal to help each other pass the term, but things turn out differently than expected.

Cigarettes and Chances by @faithinwalls369

(G, 7k, Louis/Liam Gallagher) On a whim, he decides to enter a competition via local radio, for a chance to have backstage access to Liam Gallagher's latest album release tour. 

The Seduction Of Draco Malfoy by Stillwriting / @adam-my-adam

(E, 7k, Louis/Draco Malfoy) The handsome, prickly stranger had melted into a wrecked, sexy, pleading dream…and Louis had done it to him.

something runnin' around my head by andfollowthesun / @halien

(G, 7k, Louis/Niall) Louis likes to think that Anne and Robin like them though; the three of them have been flatmates for the better part of two years, and friends before that. It would be bad form to show up to an anniversary empty-handed.

here with me by haveufoundwhaturlookingfor

(T, 6k, Louis/Nick Grimshaw) Louis has been secretly dating Nick, and things were going so smoothly, but then Nick finds out that he's pregnant and they have no choice but to tell everyone about their relationship.

Worth the Risk by Lhhome / @lhhomefics

(E, 5k, Louis/Lando Norris) The one where Lando Norris just wants to flirt with the cute guy he saw from across the room and Louis finally finds someone who is worth the risk.

flame colored paradise by cinnamons / @sunbellylou

(E, 3k, Louis/Mads Mikkelsen) He looked like a sight straight from heaven in his dark three-piece suit, hair in perfect place, a relaxed look on his face, as if he hasn’t had a hard-on for the last half an hour. Louis loved how Mads was always perfectly composed, never a single strand of hair out of place.

It's All Come and Go by @haztobegood

(E, 2k, Louis/Orville Peck) “Truck stops are like the original Grindr.” - Orville Peck, Coachella 2022

Demons Hide by sitandadmire / @louistomlionson

(NR, 777 words, Louis/Four) "When are you getting that tongue piercing we talked about?" Louis chuckles. "As soon as you manage to keep me pinned down long enough, love."

#28th appreciation #hltracks #trackinghome #tracksintheam #trackinghappily #1dficvillage #1dsource #ficrec

[sobeautifullyobsessed]

Hi, how are you? This is kind of a random question but I was looking for a sweet romcom to watch and I was like, hey, maybe I ask you what YOUR favourite romantic comedy is?

What an AWESOME question, Nonny! Thank you so much for asking. And as it's my usual style to be shamelessly extra, I'm gonna list my top five and hope that my enthusiasm will be effective enough to sway anyone reading this to give some of them a viewing.

Moonstruck - Romance & immediate attraction that strike like a thunderbolt out of the blue, set in an Italian-American community in NYC. Flavored by the backdrop of the opera La Traviata and a full December moon, this tale of finding a second great love moves like a whirlwind.

And each time I watch it, I'm transported back to my grandparents' home by the same sights, textures, and indelibly Italian traditions I experienced in my childhood.

10 Things I Hate About You - A brilliant, witty retelling of Shakespeare's The Taming of the Shrew, set in a high school in the grunge era '90's. Young Heath Ledger, whose charisma is off the charts. An excellent soundtrack of contemporary music--with the addition of Cruel To Be Kind, which incorporates a key line from the play itself.

Roxanne - A modernized version of Cyrano de Bergerac, with Steve Martin (who also wrote the screenplay) as the dashing but bulbously-nosed Fire Chief of a small Colorado resort town, who falls hard for Daryl Hannah's visiting astronomer. It's a glory of words, words, words, with poetry that inspires passion. Proof that love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind.

And speaking of Daryl Hannah, I must give an honorable mention to the delightful Splash, a rom-com retelling of The Little Mermaid.

Bridget Jones's Diary - A modern woman's quest to find love despite a lifetime of disappointments. Bridget is 1,000% relatable (at least to this Hopeless Romantic😁). Patterned after Jane Austen's Pride & Prejudice, it has one of the greatest they-finally-kiss scenes of all time, with a closing line by Bridget's Darcy that is so frickin' sexy, you just have to melt (while wishing your partner would say that same to you).

Honorable mention to the sequel, Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason.

Mamma Mia!/Mamma Mia, Here We Go Again! - How can I not make this a two-fer, with all the amazing opportunities to sing out loud, so so many ABBA hits? Plus, Colin Firth in a white dress shirt. And then a wet Colin Firth😁. But seriously, these films & their soundtracks have provided me inspiration for chapters of multiple fics. Most recently (relatively speaking) Andante, Andante--which proved pivitol for setting the mood for the lovemaking in Chapter 17 of Of Magic, Miracles, and Moonlight.

I actually cried when I saw it sung in the movie the first time (oh heck, every time now) because it so captured the feelings I wanted to evoke that first time that my OFC, Teyla, and Stephen made love.

Thank you again, dear Nonny, for this chance to share some of my favorite romantic flicks! In fact, I have about fifeteen others I could easily add to the list, but perhaps I can elaborate upon them another day.

#tysm 💗 #dear Nonny #these are a few of my favorite things #romantic comedy #rom-com #rom-coms #Moonstruck #10 Things I hate About You #Roxanne #Bridget Jones's Diary #Mamma Mia! #Mamma Mia Here We Go Again! #Andante Andante #Cruel To Be Kind

[ipegchangbin]

OH EM GEEE POOOOOOKIIIEEEEE‼️‼️ DID U SEE THE STEP OUT 2024⁉️⁉️⁉️

IM DYING HONESTLY‼️🙌😵🪦🏴‍☠️ IM NOT EVEN TALKING ABT WHATS GONNA HAPPEN IN 2024 U KNOW ME AND MY LOVE💕💞 💖💓❤️‍🔥FOR JIJI HE LOOKKS. SOSOOOOOOOSOSOOSOOOOOOO 😍😍😍😍‼️‼️❤️‍🔥🥰‼️😘😍🫣🥵😳

I FEEL LIKE A VICTORIAN MAN SEEING A WOMANS ANKLE BC HANNIES KNEES WOAAAAHHHHHHHHHH😫😫😩😩🥵😳😳🤭🫣🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

ANYWYAS HIS OUTFIT IS SOOOOOOO COOOL‼️‼️😍😍😍😍😍 I LOVE IT SO MCUH ‼️‼️🥰🥰🥰🤩😚😋😍☺️I LOVE THE BLUEGREEB COLOR THING ON HIM 🤩😜🤪😝AND THE LIL TUCK IN SHOWS OFF HIS SWXY SEXY SEXY HOT CUT E BEATTIFUL PRETTY GORGELICIOUS GORGTASTIC GORGEOUS WAIST😋😋😋😋😝😣☹️🤭 AND THE KNEEEESJSUSISWIUSJWJJWU 😫😩💦WHY AM I SO DOWN FOR HIS KNEEES👶🥊WHATTTT I NNEEED TO KISSS THEM 💋😘😽👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨AN DDOMT GET ME STARTED ON THE CUTE SHORTS AND THE CUTE SOCKKS‼️‼️‼️‼️😍😍😍😍😣😣❤️‍🔥 OMG THE SOOOOOCKKKKKKSSS‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️⁉️THE LIL BOOTS LOOKK SLSOOOOO CUTE ON HIM TOOOOOOOO😭😭😭🥰🥰😋😍😘😫🤭😽😩

POOKIE HE IS SO CUTEEE ANR COOOOL AND I LOVE HIM SOOOOO MUCCCHHHHH ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️😼😼😼😻WHY WAS MY FIFST RESCTION TO FUCK HIM IN THAT OUTFIT 😀😀⁉️🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️I CANT IM SO SORRRY I DONT THINK IM NOTMAL ROUND HIM 😭😭😭☹️😿🔫🔫🔫

ANYWYAS IM GONNA SYEAL UR MANS FOR A QUICK SECONDS😻😼😽😽😼😻😼😸😻😻 BC OMG FAIRYCORE BINNIEE IS SOOOOOOO CUTE 🧚✨💖🧚🧚‍♀️✨🧚‍♂️💓💕🧚‍♀️ HE LOOKSM SO GOOD AWGAUNST THE PINK BACKGROUND AND SURROUNDED BY THE PRETTY FLOWERS HES THE PRETTIEST FLOWER INN THERE HES SO PRINCE LIKE 🪻💐🪷🌷🌺🌸🌼🌻💐🪻🌺🌻🌞🌸👑👑😻😻✨✨‼️‼️‼️

AND WHATS THIS WHATS THIS WHATS THISSSS⁉️⁉️⁉️🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯

NEW FICCC COMING SOON⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯

THIS YEAR IS GONNNNAAA BEE GOOOOOD‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️😻😻😻😻🙌🙌🙌

EVERYBODY CHEERRRRR‼️‼️‼️😻🙌🗣️🗣️🗣️🔥🔥🔥💯💯‼️🥳🤩

HAPPY NEW YEAR POOOOKIEEE WOOOKIE‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️😍😍😍🥰🥰😘😘😝😋🎉🥳🎊💕💕🩷💙💛🩵🩷💜🩷❣️💖💛💞💓❤️❤️‍🔥💛❤️💕💕💕

YEASSSS POOKIE I HAVE SEEN STEP OUT 2024 (pretend that its the new years and i didnt answer this late)

ngl i was gonna bite the fuck outta that man fr. like sorry i dont mean to steal your hanji and his slutty lil waist. but he looks like a pretty anime protagonist with that outfit. thats something that nobody can resist !!! (but i have self control because my proofreader and twin flame is hans biggest whore)

I NEED TO EAT HIS KNEES LIKE THEYRE LIL CHICKEN WINGS ‼️‼️‼️‼️ and super valid to wanna fuck him BECAUSE GO BESTIE! GO POOKIE!!! THATS UR MAN!!! UR LIL POOKIEBEAR. he did this for u he did this to be EATEN

okay we are even 🤝 U CAN STEAL MY MAN FOR A QUICK SEC 😼 i dont mind because i believe that sharing is caring and i want my bf changbinnie to be the communal whore (as is with natural selection) so please dont hesitate to bite my pretty baby binnie bookie poodle doodle bear sweetie cakes with cherries on top. hes my fairy princess mermaid angel beauty from heaven itself. ahem. i love changbin

but i also love YOU pookie! i love ur asks i love seeing u around imwheowirhwjej HOPE U ENJOYED THE NEW FICS AND stick around for more 😁😁😁 enjoy your year pooks!

#im so happy the eyestrain emojis were back after a while #<3 pookie anon #💌 ipeginbox

[thetypingpup]

okay if you don't mind im going to rebrand myself as #1 merman yuta enthusiast so buckle up.

also im planning ANOTHER yuta fic yes woohoo bc why the fuck not also because it's SO FUUUUUUUN TO WRITE HIM <3

i have so many pictures of his red hair and i remember thinking "wow he'd defs be a mermaid" and BOOM ellie served.

okay yeah the one where he smirks and the last one would be accurate HE BE LIKE:

"tell me, my pearl, what do you need from me this time?", swimming closer to you. it would be considered a saunter if he had legs.

speaking of legs- do you think he would have some rare ability to become full human if he were desperately needed on land to discuss naval warfare issues? like, he's one of the sea gods im pretty sure he must have enough power to forge some legs from time to time.

although he'd be one to take his chances with the humans if he had legs just saying-

but OMG now im imagining him seeing you conjure up some lightning and thunderstorms one evening and meeting you at the cove being like, "hey babe those lightning strikes were sexy asf" basically he thinks you're sexy asf when you make storms and shit (the reader is btw bc storms are cool)

also circling back to him being a flirty ass bitch he would definitely refer to you as his pearl, his little seashell, maybe just darling as well. he's formal and polite yet exudes this inviting aura to him as well, always catching your eye when you pass the shore, seeing him laying on his favourite rock as he gazes only at you while many mortals gawk at him nonetheless. he's open to anyone, but seems to have eyes only for you. and the feelings may be reciprocated, which he takes advantage of.

he knows that he's so charming to the point of no return, and as much as you hide it he knows he affects you. even just from his gaze, as his vibrant red hair frames his expression, and his hand beckons you over with a single finger and a subtle smirk that plays upon his lips, and you fall every time (like tf who wouldn't).

but you'd kill to replay those moments where you manage to gain the upper ground, charming him instead (hidden talent alert), which is something you only do if you're feeling extra competitive, and yuta sparks that in you. you love to see him stutter on his words, his nervous chuckle, and those little held back whimpers when you suck on his neck just right- ANYWAYS THATS ANOTHER EPISODE

(p.s i only initiate smut hours if you really want to 👀)

i'm so sorry this took so long to get to gwen i haven't been in sea god!yuta mode for a while but we're here now 😅

to answer your question, he can form legs whenever he wants. he's magic like that. he definitely uses this to his advantage to hook up with people, mortals and gods alike.

when he meets storm goddess!you he's 100% intrigued, and just gets more fixated on you overtime. he likes your displays of power, granted not as much as fire god!xiaojun, but he can appreciate a powerful goddess as well. he totally calls you darling, but the idea of calling you pearl too is making me swoon i love that. he totally falls for you more and more, and before he knows it, he's not interested in being with anyone else, just you. i'm trying to figure out just how far he goes in terms of obsession. like i wanted xiaojun to be the main yandere, but fuck sea god!yuta might have some of that in him as well. he's certainly powerful enough to do some real damage and he falls for you enough where it can definitely veer into obsession.

for a while tho, he plays it cool, remaining suave and polite, only to get more shameless and seductive over time. after a while, as you saw in one of the scenes, he doesn't care if he's surrounded by mortals throwing themselves at him, he just wants to appeal to you. and when you not only show you're affected by him, but flirt back oh he loves that. when you start advancing on him too, challenging him, seducing him back, he's absolutely overjoyed. it makes it easy to get obsessed with you. like he already liked you, but seeing this other side to you, this side that is able to have him flustered, really gets him going. no one else was able to do that before you, so he'll be damned if he doesn't spend every spare moment he can basking in your presence. shit maybe this is how he starts turning yandere, like he only has eyes for you after some time, to the point where it's like the rest of the world goes out of focus whenever he's with you, and he just craves you only having eyes for him in return.

smut hours can be initiated whenever lmao. when i get in smutty moods i answer the asks, but they can be initiated whenever so by all means go for it!

#fire and sun au thoughts #supernatural!au

[twopoppies]

Hi!! What are your personal favourite fics ever ? And could u do a list of your fav deleted fics? I think I really just need new fics to read Haha Xx

Oh, I love that question. Okay, I already have a list of Favorite Fics, but here are my fave deleted ones:

Into The Blue by Zarah5 (E, 117K) honestly, I love all of this author’s fics, but I think this is my favorite of theirs. Louis as a flirty scuba instructor? Newly single Harry who just wants a fling? Boys living on other sides of the world who only have a few weeks together? Heartbreak. Hot af smut. OT5 friendship. Please….give me all that shit.

Pull Me Under by zarah5 (E, 140K) One of the very first fics I read when I came into this fandom…and I’ve read it multiple times since. Zarah’s fics hold up every time. This one has it all, great pacing, ot5 friendship, banter, super sexy smut, etc etc. Plus, Louis being super jealous of Harry’s best friend.

to hell with romancing by bottomlinsons (E, 8K) This is worth reading for Harry’s internal monologue alone. This is just a funny fic that morphs into a sweet and really sexy one.

Dream Awake by protagonist_m (M, 31K) beautifully written, this one pulled me in and I got lost in the story so deeply. It’s one of those fics that really deserved a wider audience.

pretty in pink by hereforlou (E, 6K) I love this author’s writing and they give suck a realistic portrait of an established relationship in this one: Harry is whiny and needy. Louis is indulgent and loving. The whole thing is very sexy.

into joy i’m sailing by hereforlou (E, 5K) This fic is so tender and soft and sexy. The whole idea behind the fic was just something that felt very real and so fully realized.

This is cheating, but I honestly love so many of hereforlou’s fics, so here are all the ones I have.

feel the chemicals burn in my bloodstream by togetherwecouldbealright (M, 123K) I read this one so, so long ago that all I remember is that I loved it, that there’s some really romantic and sweet moments, and that my notes from way back when only say, “OMG this one is so good! And I’ve barely gotten to the smut!” HAHAHAHA!

Good Enough to Eat by objectlesson (E, 7K) This author always does such a good job with depicting young, queer love and the way their characters experience the overwhelm of realizing they’re not straight, realizing the’ve met their Person, pining, and giving in. I love a lot of their fics, but I think this is my favorite of them. However, I highly recommend looking through all of them.

as he that sleeps here swims by Acavall (M, 23K) This was one of the very first fics I read in the fandom way back in 2013. It’s sweet and charming and a little melancholy (happy ending of course). Harry’s a ghost, there’s a little magic involved, and there’s a sweet 8K epilogue, as well.

In Vogue by otpforever (M, 121K) This one is just….so much. The intensity of the characters, the crazy hot smut (oh god, the window scene), the FASHION, the angst (I had to take a walk around the block after reading it), the epic love story between two men who could rule the world if they could just figure their shit out. Loved it.

like a boomerang by youwill (M, 48K) Very loosely based on the movie Groundhog’s Day (essentially just the concept of reliving a day over and over), this fic is delightful and charming and really worth a read.

Take Care Down By The Water by shyserious (M, 37K) Not quite mermaids, but oh my goodness I loved this fic. Magical realism, mythical creatures, dreamy/moody atmosphere, beautiful writing.

Where Your Heart Is by tvshow_addict (E, 154K) One of my all-time favorite fics and an absolute must read IMO. Chock full of hurt/comfort (both emotionally and physically), this fic is so moving and so beautiful and will take you on an emotional roller coaster ride from start to finish.

The Road Less Travelled by freetheankles E, 98K) Also known as “the lumberjack fic”, this fic is an instant classic. The author makes widowed Louis’ pain and depression so real and so moving. The characters are three-dimensional and complex and the well written sexual tension is finally relieved with super hot smut.

You Always Make Me Smile by champagneboyband (E, 60K, WIP) Yes, it’s a WIP. I’m listing it because the hope that someday it will be updated gives me the will to live. But also because even as a WIP this fic has everything I love. The characters are multi-faceted, the sexual chemistry is off the charts, the background story is complex enough to give the story numerous possibilities for angst and everything else. WHY MUST IT REMAIN A WIP???

something so precious about this by champagneboyband (E, 4K) this is just endearing and awkward and so well written. I love how much you get a sense of their connection and their inexperience and how much they care for each other in just a few thousand words.

I have lots more that I haven’t read, but of the ones I have, these are my faves. You can also check my DELETED FICS tag for more or search my blog for an author’s name. If someone has asked for their fics, it will be tagged.

#deleted fics #my favorite deleted fics #my fic rec #Larry fic rec

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I never tire of your brain rots and thirsting please expand on that dorm leader Jade and Rook thing going on

... ANoNs eNABLiNG ME aND MY RoT 😳

OKAY I’M KIND OF TOO TIRED and busy with Twisted Tarot TO WRITE A LONG ASS FIC OF DORM LEADER JADE AU NOW BUT I GOT THIS REALLY STRONG CONCEPT iN MIND AND I’LL WORD VOMIT MY ROT OUT AnYWAY 😭

I hope I get more free time so I can actually write this out as a proper fic though........................... There’s just so many fun and sadistic things you could do with the concept of dorm leader Jade OTL <— this, by the way, is the position I assume when J word needs a convenient footstool

[Referencing this post!]

Imagine like... Jade is brewing some kind of underhanded scheme to steal the seat of dorm leader from Azul (because just challenging him to a fight for the seat would be boring) 😳 and you just so happen to catch Jade being suspicious as hell... Like you’re walking by his room and you hear humming/singing, so out of curiosity, you peek in and OTL IT’S THE VANESSA/HUMAN URSULA SCENE IN THE LITTLE MERMAID so I guess that would make you/us Scuttle

Jade is casually dressing for the day, but it’s like??? He somehow swiped a set of Octavinelle dorm leader clothes in his size (plus the magical staff/cane thing) and he’s trying it on in front of a vanity, all while singing/gloating... “Oh, what a lovely dorm leader I’ll make. My dear, I’ll look divine. Things are working out according to my ultimate design—”

“Soon, I’ll have that little merman and Octavinelle will be mine 🎵” as he bcksvajscshsjskebiwdbs steps onto the vanity, crushing some bottles of eel slime-based skincare under his foot... znshsvaieveienkdebkwdbkenwwm AnD HE jUST LAUghS A STUpid SEXY hOT LAUGH AS HE GAZes iNTO his reFLDctiON IN THD miRRObR???????

But UH-OH, you fucked up hard and accidentally make eye contact with J word through the mirror, and he’s instantly on you. Try as you might to scramble away, you just end up losing balance and ending up on your butt or on your back as Jade leers down with a scary smile, drowning you in the eclipse that is his shadow. djsbsjsvsusbwkeks USinG ThE DORM LEadER STAFF CAnE THING TO FORCE YOU tO MAkE EYE CONTACT WITH HIm........... LIKE GUIDinG YOUR CHiN UP WITH THE END OF Yhe cAnE............................

“Now what have we here? An uninvited guest? A Peeping Tom? Tsk, tsk. How naughty of you,” he tuts, feigning ignorance (he clearly caught you red-handed). “Fufufu. I cannot have you running amok and spilling my secrets to the entire school. I’m afraid that you, my dear, will have to be permanently silenced. Yes, I do believe a good night’s sleep with the fish will do you some good.”

ALSO ALSO ALSO 😳 Think of how hot the dynamic of the “servant” becoming the “master” is... Jade’s no longer the one being bossed around, he IS the one bossing people around......................... AnD HE’S A RAT BAstARD, yOU JUST KNOW hE’LL ABUSE THSt poWER FoR his oWN SiCK AMUSEMENT, An D YOU Won’Y Fven ReALiZE WHRN HE HAS bECAUSE He’S TOO SmArT OTL

As vice dorm leader, Jade never really had problems “getting back” at Azul in minor ways like teasing him or purposefully not helping when he is meant to, but with the powers invested in the title of dorm leader, Jade can really get the green light to be more of an asshole out in the open 😂 HE SPILLS A DRINK OR DROPS A PLATE RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU AND TELLS YOU TO CLEAN IT UP AS IF HE DIDN’T JUST MAKE THAT MESS HIMSELF A SECOND AGO??? AND THEN HE WATCHES YOU CLEAN IT UP WITH A PLEASANT SMILE AnD YOU KNOW HE’A RELiSHING IN PETTY SHIT LIKE THIS BUT YOU CAN’T HUST DECK HIM IN THE FACE BECAUSE HE’S DOrM LEADER

“Beg on your hands and knees,” he tells you with a smirk, “and I might consider granting you a moment of respite.”

YOU JUST END UP BEING HIS TOY OR PLAYTHING TO ORDER AROUND AnD IT’s JUST. HNNNncFfHHHHHHHHHH GOD I HATE J WORD SO MUCH whY iS HE LIJW THIS I HATE HI S Dtupid hOT FACE AnD HIS SrUPux iF Jo nT sLImiNESS NaD HIS fuCKING Vo I CE An D hOW my SNaiTY gOES doWN Ghe TOuLEt Whe N HE

*beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep*

[Please stand by; we are currently experiencing technical difficulties. We’ll be right back after a brief commercial break!]

Anyway! As for dorm leader Jade and dorm leader Rook dynamics 😊 xhakbsjsjshiavdkekw As I said in my original post (referenced at the start of this one), I think it’d be extremely passive aggressive. They can definitely be cordial and cooperative if they want to be, but when they disagree, it gets BAD. Lots of back-handed compliments from both sides in an effort to provoke the other, to try and make the other absolutely LOSE THEIR SHIT (think of how Rook tried to get Malleus angry enough to lash out by calling him a “monster”; similar to that).

They’re both smiley characters on the surface, but they’ve also both got their own hidden agendas, which would make every encounter dangerous in the same way that a poison might be. Silent and not very flashy, but very much able to deal damage, maybe even kill. WhAT I’ M SAyInG IS I WAnT TJEM TO TEAR EACH o. THER INTO PIEcES, THAT WOULD BE HOT 😤

#Jade Leech #Jade Leech thirst #AU #Rook Hunt #Rook Hunt thirst #notes from the writing raven #The Little Mermaid #Ursula #Scuttle #Vanessa #twisted wonderland AU #twst AU

[dreamsfromthesandman]

So this fic is for @mermaid-princess-wannabe request. I loved doing this and I have started a part 2 already! Gif not mine but was cool and had him in a suit lol. Sorry for discrepancies. And without further ado———————————————

My Big Fat Wedding

“Dylan! I’m home!” Y/N shouted as she walked through the front door. She was with her mom and aunts in preparation for her and Dylan’s upcoming wedding.

“Hey, how’d it go?” Dylan padded through the living room, leaving a smooch on your cheek as he walked by.

“Ugh! It’s too much. Too many aunts. Too many traditions. Too many invitee’s.” You went on. It’s not that you didn’t love your family. Its just that they were loud, in everyone’s business, and they wanted the wedding their way. Y/N already broke tradition by living with Dylan before marriage. The traditions are so old school but that’s the way your family is. One aunt wanted you to wear this family heirloom whole another wanted to take you shopping. Your mom just wanted you to be happy but insisted on certain centerpieces. It’s turning out to be a family party instead of your and Dylan’s wedding.

“Does your mom still insist on the centerpieces?” Dylan asked. He wasn’t a fan of them but didn’t want to disappoint his mother in law.

“Oh, absolutely. Aunt Beth wants me to wear the heirloom still.”

“The one with the long sleeves and high neck with no skin showing at all?”

“That’s the one. And aunt Marge wants to take me shopping for a wedding dress but I can only get a certain style.”

“Hmm. Or you could just come naked,” he stated in a deep voice that only meant one thing. He nuzzled your neck and peppered kisses along your collarbone.

“Dylan, would you stop? I’m having a existential crisis,” you laughed. His beard was tickling you.

“Hey. I could let your aunt know that I actually like the heirloom and she would and you wear it.”

Y/N stood in shock, mouth agape, “you wouldn’t dare.”

“I would,too.” He quipped. You knew he was only teasing but you could envision yourself with no skin showing on your summer day wedding and being absolutely drenched in sweat.

Later on— 2 weeks before the wedding

“Mom, I don’t know. Aunt Marge bought this dress, and while it’s not like the heirloom, I feel like I will suffocate in it.”

“Well, honey, you know the tradition. Not to much skin and aunt Marge said it’s absolutely gorgeous. Plus the alterations are pretty much done. Sweetheart, everyone will see a stunning bride,” Y/N’s mom stated. Y/N knew she was done talking about it.

“Thanks mom, you know—“ she was cut off by her mother screaming at her father at the family grocery store. The grocery store has been in the family for generations and Y/N worked there part time.

“cosa diavolo stai facendo?!” Her mother shouted. Italian for what the hell are you doing, Y/N was sure her father was climbing the shelves trying to stock them.

“mamma stai ascoltando?” Y/N asked, Italian for mom are you listening as she knew that her mom has long forgotten about their phone call.

“That was sexy,” Dylan overheard your Italian. Y/N didn’t speak it often unless she was talking with family as sometimes they would forget their English and Italian was easier for them. Being bi-lingual, it was sometimes hard to keep up with both languages especially if Dylan was around. He was Italian and knows Italian, but he didn’t practice enough. Y/N waived him off as she was attempted to get her mothers attention again.

“Mamma?”

“ti richiamerò,” and she hung up.

“Ugh, of course,” putting the phone down on the counter.

“I could hear her all the at over here,” Dylan motioned as he was on the couch, “is she calling you back later?”

“Yeah, dad was doing something he wasn’t supposed to be.”

“You speaking Italian is such a turn on babe.”

“Maybe if you practiced more we could do our vows in Italian,” you spat.

“Hey— what does that mean? conosco l'italiano,” Dylan said.

“You barely know Italian,” you stated, “ I’m sorry babe. I’m just frustrated.”

“What if we eloped?” He stated.

“Eloped? You want me to be murdered by my tradition loving family?” Y/N asked incredulously. If they found out, they would most definitely start shouting.

“amore mio,” Dylan stated, “ I love you so much. If this is causing so much stress, we can just elope and then pretend to get married on our wedding day.”

Y/N pondered the thought. It would be so much easier to elope and pretend but being dishonest would kill you on the inside. The phone rang before you could answer Dylan. Swiping the answer button you immediately heard your aunt Marge screaming.

“Y/N? It’s your aunt Marge,” she shouted.

“Hi, aunt Marge, I know, I have called ID.”

“Well, darling, I wanted to say I have your dress. Just picked it up from the alterations. You need to come try it on asap.” Y/N could tell she was driving. The horns honking at her horrible driving could only mean that she is narrowly missing other cars or people.

“These people out here don’t know how to drive,” she stated.

“Well, you know how it is.”

“When do you want to come over to try it?” She shouted again.

“Damn, I can hear her,” Dylan whispered. He was thanking his lucky stars his family wasn’t like yours. While he loved them, sometimes they are way to over the top.

Putting a hand over the speaker y/n cussed out Dylan in the most loving way.

“I’ll come over this weekend.”

“Perfect! See you then.” And she hung up.

“Does your family say goodbye or just hang up on you?”

“They just hang up.”

“Have you thought about what I said?” He asked.

“Yes I have. Maybe we should?”

Dylan sat up on the couch a little bit more, “you want to? Right now?”

“Right now? Like at the courthouse?”

It was a thought but not one Y/N thought she wanted. Eloping was one thing the courthouse was another. People would find out in this town and then her family would get wind.

“No, silly. Cmon, I’ll pull some strings and we will be back by morning,” he stated, taking his phone out of his pocket. Being a movie star had its perks you supposed. Especially with him getting more roles he had some money. Not enough to quit working but enough to love comfortably. Y/N couldn’t help but be at ease for once about this wedding.

Three hours, a white dress, a tuxedo, and a plane ride later both stood at the little chapel in Las Vegas. Y/N just stood there in her dress, looking at the handsome Dylan in awe. She couldn’t believe she was going to elope with Mr. O’Brien.

“Are we going to go in?” Dylan asked with hesitation, he felt her nervousness.

“I don’t know,” Y/N breathed, “what if someone finds out?”

“Baby, no one will find out. I love you.”

“If you promise, then we can do it.”

“I promise, no one will know but us,” he affirmed giving a soft kiss on the lips. His were warm and soft, like pillows.

A smile played on Y/Ns lips as she stood there, thinking about what she was about to do. What they were about to do. They held hands and walked inside the little chapel.

#teen wolf #dylan o'brien #stiles stilinski #dylan obrien #fluffy #dylan o'brian imagine #dylan o’brien x reader #dylan x reader #so cute #wedding #maze runner #my big fat greek wedding

[fiendishpal]

hii fiend!!! i literally adore your art its so pretty and it- it just- *inhales* *exha-*💞💖✨💞💖✨💞🙏🛐🙇‍♂️🙇‍♂️anyways so- bcz u guided me to the osaaka ship and now im in love w it couldya please offer me some fic recommendations? ok, i just love ur art ur one of ny faves lov u have an amazingly sweet and beautiful day!!! :D

sure thing!!

i’ll put them by category here (i also have some art for some of them, i’ll post them when i’ve got the time)

i’ve put a star ★ beside fics that i’ve read a bunch of times hahaha!

canon-compliant

(fics that i think you should read first. mostly canon-compliant. so these are post-timeskip. after their meeting at the black jackals vs adlers game. these really won’t make any sense if you’re anime-only, sorry.)

stay with me go places by sparksandsalt ★

this fic. THIS FIC!!!!! this started everything for me!!! this is the reason why i started shipping osaaka!!!! the way they handled the characters is sooooo!!! *chef’s kiss* they really stick true to the characters' voices and the care they put into characterizations is impeccable. i also love bokuto and akaashi’s relationship here!! they’re so in each other’s lives that bokuto ends up exposing akaashi’s feelings indirectly and accidentally lmao and also atsumu and osamu’s relationship is so funny and hilarious. they are like how brothers are, atsumu showing his support but also clowning osamu in the process

this fic single-handedly fueled me to create so much osaaka content.

i dont know how many times i’ve read this tbh

wait by sanguinedawns

i love the yearning in this fic. the longing and the waiting and the expectation there. they’re trying to be subtle about their feelings for each other but they’re seen at the end but at 4k it’s narrated so smoothly. i love mutually pining idiots.

in the afternoon by yamaboto

this is so!!! i love this so much!! at 1k we see osamu yearning for akaashi once again. i love how they write this short scene. i could really picture the afternoon light coming in through the traditional panel doors and how the light must feel on your skin. 

take what we love inside by yamaboto

this is an established relationship osaaka and how they got together. in the afternoon (the fic above) is a snippet of how warm the writer could put words together. and it really is so sweet there’s a scene where they slow dance and it’s the best. i also love the simple fact that they put in how osamu cannot let anybody go hungry hhaha 

shout softly by lostsunsets

YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW THIS MADE MY HEART FEEL SO LIGHT AND SOFT AND TENDER. THIS FIC IS SO PRECIOUS OH MY GOSH

i love love loooooooove how the author put osamu's love and passion for food and filling in the pieces on what osamu does to fuel this passion --while in the back burner-- while he was still playing volleyball in high school

AND HOW HE LONGS FOR AKAASHI. THIS IS MAKING ME AAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!

GO READ IT PLEASE

we’re in au territory

(the setting is not canon-compliant)

sleeping with the enemy by billionairevolleyboysclub ★ 

the setting is in 2013 haikyu volleyball circuit. meaning they’re still in highschool and are still playing volleyball and they just happen to chance upon each other at interhigh.

 i love how sweet osamu is and how he got his crush on akaashi. and it’s lovely how they wrote the budding of a highschool relationship!! and their take on how osamu and akaashi handle ldr??? it’s delicious. dont let the fake/pretend relationship tag fool you this is very cute i love them so much!! i guess the ‘no drama’ aspect is what i like about this a lot bc osamu’s a pretty straightforward guy esp i guess back in highschool. also the second-hand embarrassment is real lmao

welcome in by risquetendencies ★

in this setting osamu’s still the owner of onigiri miya but the au aspect of this is that they haven’t met before. so basically a meet-cute.

and man  oh mannnnn the tension written here is good food. osamu is written so obviously into akaashi (i mean who wouldn’t) and akaashi is affected by this greatly and it is!!! wow!! i just love how smooth osamu is here and how flustered akaashi gets bc “omg a hot guy likes me????” (yes akaashi, this hot guys thinks you’re a sexy piece of ass please believe it)

 akaashi in a gay panic is literally the best thing. 

blood brothers by billionairevolleyboysclub (18+)

miya twins are vampires and akaashi has a thing for fangs. that in and of itself is enough reason for you to read this. i also love how the writer puts a distinction between atsumu and osamu on how they interact with/ feed on akaashi.

like the dawn by eggsan

this fic is actually inspired by my royalty au but im not putting this here bc of that. i really like how the writer introduced their story. i remember telling someone that the atmosphere of how they write is like the voice of a soft-spoken maiden hahaha it's lovely!! think light academia aesthetic. i also love how i get the doki-dokis when osamu, who is essentially a stranger, gets close to akaashi. i can feel akaashi's excitement and trepidation.

forgive the sea, follow the tide by KyryeDuBarie (18+)★

PIRATE AU!!!!!!

i love the fresh twist that they did here on the classic mermaid/pirate au. the twist being akaashi is actually a pearl diver and at the same time being vaguely hinted as a mermaid hhahaha. osamu's a pirate that got shipwrecked and got washed up on akaashi's shores that akaashi, of course, saved. 

there's a bunch of cool things that happened too that i cannot disclose bc that'll ruin the thrill of reading this. the plot is solid and the romance between osamu and akaashi is gradual but so so sweeeeet!! i highly recommend this!! but better clear up your schedule bc this hefty boy comes in at a whopping 40k!!!!

keep time on me by yamabato

this fic is based from my zombie apocalypse au!! and even though it’s set in the end of the world, they were still able to write it so sweet and comforting????? i only wish osamu and keiji the happiness they deserve :’)

i also like the whole theme of time in the story and how the story revolves around it. it’s very good!!!

the contest between by batman (18+)

akaashi is a documentary director and osamu is his subject. i love  love looooove how the author wrote how stubborn both of them are and how they could clash sometimes but not in the explosive type of way. it’s actually cute and sweet, you’ll see what i mean when you read this hhehehe

AND AKAASHI IS SO LOVELY HERE!!! so lovely!!! and he laughs and smiles a ton and those moments were written in a way that just said ‘look at this angel!’ LMAO idk maybe that’s just me. i love akaashi so much

AND THIS BABY COMES IN AT A WHOLE 75K!!!!!!!!! AMAZING!!!!

#chocomilked #fiend talks #fiendish recs #GIVE THESE AUTHORS SOME LOVE #love love looooove these fics i swear by them!!!! #if i find more i''l update these!! #happy reading tumblr used chocomilked!! hahaha #osaaka #EDIT: added two new fics!!! #let me go around the fics i've read again hhaha