#regardless of how much she likes the beach and the water | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yyawnjun · 4 months

Text

VIVID MEMORIES

𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. SUMMARY: Your first vivid memory of you and your best friend, Choi Seungcheol, was when you were seven years old, on a summer evening. You spent the day at the beach and were about to build your sand castle. You had no notion of time; you were happy without realizing it. The second vivid memory you have of your best friend is from a cold winter night. Your 14-year-old selves comfortable between the blankets and a Christmas movie playing in the background. On that night, you found out that S.coups would be moving in a week. The third vivid memory you have of your best friend is from the autumn before you entered college. You were nineteen years old and had moved into a university-provided shared flat; it was evening when you were ready to meet your roommate. So you entered the apartment, and your gaze met the brown eyes you knew better than anyone else. The fourth vivid memory you have of your S.coups was on a spring night when everything changed. […]

𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. GENRE: fluff, a bit angst, slightly suggestive || best friends to (to strangers to roommates) lovers

𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. WARNINGS: mention of food/alcohol (just beers)

𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. WORD COUNT: 7k !!

𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. A.N.: hey guys, after a month from the spoiler, here is the Vivid Memories fanfiction!! I'll start with a big thank you to lia @sobun1est , she proofread everything and was always super kind and supportive, she was literally an angel.

𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. TAGLIST: @kflixnet @christinewithluv @thepoopdokyeomtouched @leah-rose03 @lavayeon @renapersa @xcynthiaaa

Your first vivid memory of yourself and your best friend is from a summer evening at the beach. Everything is clear in your mind, from the time you arrived in the afternoon, to lunch, and finally, the time spent between the water and the sand. You and S.coups had been best friends since birth; your cribs were close, and your mothers had met in the hospital and ended up becoming great friends.

From the earliest age, you were used to doing everything together, so much so that no one could tell if you were close friends or siblings. Regardless of how you appear; spending so much time with a person tends to make you resemble them.

You had similar tastes in everything - from simple preferences for snacks to choices of games to play together. Between you two, he was slightly more extroverted and found it easier to talk to people. But being such good friends, you - who were initially more reserved and introverted - ended up resembling him in this aspect as well.

Even the more negative traits were shared - like stubbornness or sensitivity. But these weighed much less; you were good to each other, and everyone could notice that. You had also formed a group of friends, with whom you often gathered in the afternoons to play.

This had also happened on that hot summer day. You had arrived in the morning, but all of your friends had left shortly after lunch, leaving only you and S.coups to complete your project of immense significance and excellent architectural attention: a sandcastle.

6:06 p.m.

"We need more water. I'll go get it," he had told you as he stood up with the bucket and came to the sea.

"I can do it! You can finish the towers since you're more precise."

"No, I'll go because I'm stronger. You're a girl."

"But I'm faster!" you replied with a challenging tone.

"That's not true," and he turned around, running.

You followed him without hesitation. Your laughter resonated on the now-empty beach; the breeze ruffled your hair, and before you knew it, you were the first to reach the sea.

And when he got to you, he "accidentally" pushed you and caused you to fall into the water. You were near the coast, so you could touch the bottom, and you took advantage of the situation by dragging Scoups into the water and pretending to take his hand to pull yourself up. A water splash war began; the more one of you moved the water, the other responded with equal vigor. Laughter, splashes, and the sound of your bodies moving through the water filled the silence on that summer evening.

Your castle was never finished - and this memory would haunt you in the future - because your parents came towards you to call you as it was getting late, and it was time to go home.

So, you started walking towards the car; both of you were still soaking wet, and you shared a large towel for the entire journey back. During that ride, you sang your favorite songs at the top of your lungs, imagining yourselves as famous singers with a microphone and a big audience.

If you closed your eyes, you could still vividly see your best friend at the age of seven, moving his lips with his eyes closed, singing various songs with his already splendid voice.

The ride back was short, or at least it seemed so to you because you had focused only on the two of you singing. You helped your mothers cook dinner, which was based on ramen. S.coups was busy chopping vegetables while you set the table. Meanwhile, your conversations were varied; from regretting not finishing the sandcastle to discussing who among you was more in tune. Later in the night, when the spontaneous question of what you wanted to be when you grew up developed, your talk would be further explored.

But before that, there was a moment of play after helping clean the kitchen when everyone finished dinner. Playing activity games led to lying on the floor and starting a long game of Monopoly. You knew the rules well enough to the point that you ended up dividing all the money in the bank and started buying and stealing houses from each other, easily ignoring the original rules.

You remember perfectly the fake pout put on by your best friend when he realized he had been tricked several times by you. His arms crossed, and his gaze turned elsewhere as he tried to scold you for your immorality and for how wrong you had been.

The mood, however, quickly dissipated because your genuine laughter had enchanted him, distracting him from the original reason for it.

So, the late hour arrived, and both of you put on your pajamas and lay down to sleep.

Your bodies were exhausted, but your young minds were not. You returned to the topic that had characterized your conversations many times: what you wanted to do when you grew up.

S.coups was so sure he wanted to become a singer that it became a habit for you to listen to him talk about all the things he would do once he became famous.

Thinking back, it warmed your heart when you noticed that in all his plans, he was never alone - it was always Scoups and Yn.

You also shared your dreams, and you both promised to be each other's number-one fans - supporting each other's choices and ideas. In the end, it was almost as if dreams had become another thing you shared.

"Cross on the heart, we'll be together forever, and our dreams will come true a thousand percent!!" you both said in unison at the top of your lungs, as if it hadn't long passed the time for both of you to sleep.

You vividly remember looking into his eyes as he made that promise; the moon was the only source of light faintly illuminating his face, and his smile was barely perceptible. The bond of trust that united you was deep, and on that summer night, for the first time, you felt him very close to your heart - you couldn't explain why, perhaps because you didn't care to understand it. You were happy, and that was enough!

Your summer days spent together would be many more, as well as the years you had planned to spend together.

In no time, your conversations became more and more confusing, and the words became slurred. Without realizing it, you fell asleep - facing each other, with a faint smile on your faces and your eyes closed peacefully.

The vivid memory of every moment of that day would come back to you at least one night of all your subsequent summers - regardless of how everything had changed over time in a completely unexpected way.

You'll remember those times with melancholy because they were over and with joy. After all, they were there.

The second vivid memory you have with your best friend takes place during a winter. Your 14-year-old selves were returning home from a long snowball fight that had lasted all afternoon on a Friday night when the snow was falling heavily.

It began as a competition to build the most beautiful snowman, then evolved into a team effort to create one together, and then ended in the destruction of your work and a snowball war.

Competitiveness raised your spirits, but your best friend unexpectedly gave up and joined you after raising the white flag.

He'd whispered an excuse for his defeat, meaning that he wanted to leave that happy memory of your win rooted in your mind.

At that moment you did not fully understand his words, but they took on another meaning after the news you learned that evening.

So you walked into the house, where the pleasant aroma of pizza filled the air. Not even time to take off your coats began your competition to get to the kitchen first.

When you arrived, there was a table set for the two of you and a message from your parents telling you that you and S.coups would be eating alone and that a hot pizza was waiting for you in the oven.

You remember your best friend's smile as you read aloud the message left, and his excitement at the idea that you could spend the night together watching movies and eating anything you wanted.

After your victory greeting, which included a 3-second handshake and a pirouette to each other, you determined who would shower first while the other looked for movie marathon alternatives to watch that night. You both assumed you'd be able to stay up all night.

You won and quickly showered.

As soon as you came out, you noticed S.coups concentrating as he read the list of movies you had made - you swore that, for a moment, his eyes had appeared glazed over, but at the sight of you he had quickly composed himself.

He had run toward the shower, and instead, you had noticed a note with three options, including one of them written in big letters: " CHRISTMAS MOVIE + STUDIO GHIBLI MARATHON."

You didn't ask too many questions - on the contrary, you thought about how much those films had been a fundamental part of your childhood, and your heart warmed.

When your best friend returned from the shower, you were still thinking about the order in which you would watch the movies. When you looked up to discuss your decision, you noticed that the boy was holding a towel and wasn't wearing a T-shirt. You immediately shifted your sight and quit speaking.

S.coups looked perplexed, but he quickly realized what was going on.

His lips formed a pleased smirk.

You were teenagers, and even though you had shared everything since you were younger, those awkward moments - the ones of contact with reality - deepened your bond.

"Put a shirt on."

"Why should I, huh?" he asked, chuckling.

"It's winter...you might get sick." you stammered as you pulled yourself together and went back to look at him.

"Okay," he snorted at you.

So your gaze was drawn to his back as he struggled to put on the pajama shirt he kept in your house because you were like siblings.

The boy was a dancer, and the results were visible on his physique; his muscles were well defined, and his movements were incredibly harmonious, to the point that you were charmed observing him

You were thrown back to earth by a sneeze.

"Yn...your hair is still wet - he told you as he laid his towel on your head - and then you tell me to be careful not to catch cold.." he continued as he quickly dried your hair with the towel.

You laughed too, and as S.coups's movements warmed you up a little.

At that moment, the vivid memory focused more on how you felt.

For a few seconds, neither of you had spoken, as if both of you had been stuck in your stream of thought. For the second time that day you noticed his gaze fixed on you, but his as he wandered elsewhere.

A snort and a smile interrupted that moment, and you proactively got up to take the hot pizza out of the oven.

S.coups towel was left on your head, and you vividly remember the scent of the vanilla-flavored bubble bath used by the boy being overpowered by that of the pizza fresh out of the oven.

You turned around and saw him sitting with a fork and knife in hand smiling, and ready for dinner.

Before long the pizza you had in front of you was over, and thanks to the light topics discussed the time had, to say the least, flown by.

You had discussed as much and as little as which of your professors would be most likely to win in a fight - both of you were convinced it would not be the English one - or whether there were more stars or grains of sand in the world.

After these deep discussions, you moved to the couch and set up the television to begin your marathon of Home Alone, and the Studio Ghibli films.

The evening began with the Christmas movie and continued with Totoro, whose initial song the two of you were happily humming the refrain.

You had always been used to being together, and from an early age physical contact had been a present element in your friendship.

As you grew up, it was as if a veil of awkwardness had appeared but at the same time, it was as if your deep friendship had overcome it: proof of this was the position you were in.

He sat, and you with your head over his legs while he stroked your hair and you scratched his arm. Nothing strange, nothing mischievous or sensual, simply two teenagers watching a movie together for the umpteenth time.

The more you try to recall that vivid memory, the more you begin to notice how many times your gaze had crossed and how you had been the center of the boy's attention.

You hadn't paid too much attention at the time; you both knew the movies by heart, and you were both exhausted.

But you still started at 11 pm Spirited Away.

With dreamy eyes, you looked at the world represented by the film, and with the same eyes, S.coups looked at you.

You noted he seemed thoughtful because he commented on the movies less than usual, but you had seen him weird all day. It was only then that you realized there was something he had not yet told you but was on the verge of telling you.

Only you knew him well enough to sense it without him saying anything.

When the film was over you began to pay more attention to S.coups attitudes.

He stroked you more gently than usual, and never had he pulled your hair or pinched you as he usually did in a friendly way.

The third film on the list was your movie, Howl's Wandering Castle.

And, as difficult as it was to tell your friend that you were tired and that it might be better to go to bed, you chose that option because you were becoming concerned for the boy. He gave no sign of resisting, which made you certain that something was going to come out that night.

And so for the umpteenth time, you found yourselves lying in a bed together; there had never been any awkwardness because you had always filled the silence with words or music.

But on that winter night, no one dared to utter a word - almost as if you were both aware that there was whatever you would say would come out unpleasant.

There was only a dim bajour lighting the room, and you could occasionally hear the sound of your breaths.

"I'm moving out tomorrow."

Few words, many feelings, many tears, and few reactions.

"Really?"

"Yes. But not by my will, my parents are moving."

"Oh."

You could not process a single word, no rational reaction was accomplished by you or him.

Both of you stood motionless, staring at each other.

His eyes struggled to maintain eye contact, occasionally moving to the sides of the room.

"Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"It was a sudden thing: I found out last month. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I guess I didn't have the courage you know," he told you, returning to look into your eyes.

You felt like a great selfish urge to ask him to stay.

"And where will you go?"

"Seoul."

There were so many things you wanted to tell him, but your profound admiration and affection for him kept you from acting selfishly.

"It will be a great opportunity for your dream S.coups! I will visit you often, so forget me not!"

From that simple sentence, his whole expression changed; his grimace turned into a big smile, and a few tears fell from his eyes; as if he was waiting for your approval....

Instinctively he hugged and thanked you.

Despite all the years we had spent together, hearing him cry was still new to you - but you took his cry as permission to start crying too.

And on that night, you remember so vividly.

It was on that night that your dreams and destinies parted.

You would have liked to talk more throughout the night, but sleep was stronger than you, and you both collapsed asleep.

You were still embraced; his face was in the crook of your neck, and your scent flooded his nostrils was enough to bring him a peaceful sleep.

Your faces were still adorned with the previous now-dried tears, while a faint melancholy smile decorated your faces.

Your memories of the next day, the official farewell day, the day of a thousand questions answered and planned, for some inexplicable reasons were less vivid.

But his broken voice of that cold winter night was a memory that never faded from your mind.

The third vivid memory you have of you and your best friend is of an autumn day, the one before you started college.

Since you had drifted apart, many things had happened; good and bad times had alternated, and time had passed.

You made a promise to stay in touch forever, but due to a thousand different duties and circumstances, you both had become increasingly unreachable.

In the beginning, you still kept a diary with all the things you wanted to say to him and meticulously updated it every day.

But even the last bit of paper that held you together had faded away.

Memories with him remained of happy and comfortable times; when you thought about it, your soul was filled with melancholy and nostalgia. Nostalgia is the primal meaning of the word, as it had been for Odysseus in the Odyssey: homelessness.

The memory of home, which had always been associated with S.coups for you, dissipated, and many new ones took the place.

The high school years seemed to have flown past, whereas they appeared forever previously. You finished with honors and were able to attend a prestigious college with many degrees owing to a scholarship.

Fate or not, you ended up in Seoul.

As soon as you read the letter of admission, that location resonated with you with the voice of S.coups. That broken voice on that summer night still resonated with you on an autumn night when you were 19 years old and on your way to Seoul.

Your baggage was packed, and your flight was scheduled to depart the next morning. You'd find your mother at the Seoul airport, who had gone there first to help you with your flat. Your parents had gotten you an apartment near the university as a gift when you were swamped with stuff to study.

Your scholarship covered half the costs, and the other half was split with a roommate, whom your parents had promised you would like.

You slept little that night, your mind racing with everything from the things you'd miss to the experiences you'd have.

Fear and anxiety weighed you down, and soothing music to lull you to sleep didn't seem to help.

Until, late at night, sleep prevails. You awoke after a few hours. You didn't feel tired because adrenaline was racing through your veins, keeping you awake enough to get up and settle before you left.

You wish farewell to your home, your city, and all that had been your life up until that moment at 6 a.m.

The journey passed between a thousand songs, books, drawings, and games. You arrived so late in the afternoon at the airport, where you met your mother, and together decided to take a tour of the city.

You left your baggage in a designated locker and approached her after she showed you the university's offices. Sunset had arrived, and the autumn colors had calmed the atmosphere.

Everything was wonderful on that day, which you remember vividly.

Fortunately, tiredness only set in after you and your mother arrived at your flat. Your conversations during the day had been of all kinds, but particularly at the end, they had focused on your future and the one with whom you would share a room.

You expected to see him at the airport, or at the very least to learn more about him. But, in the end, your mother did not reveal anything to you, and you would only find out who it was in a few minutes.

Following your mother to a very tall building, you promptly took an elevator up to the fourth floor after grabbing your belongings.

You were experiencing a wide range of emotions at the time.

Mostly, you were worried about everything that was waiting for you.

You arrived on the sixth floor and entered room 505 after leaving the elevator. You remember vividly putting the keys into the keyhole - initially wrongly twisting them. You entered the house after succeeding.

The lights were on, and a black coat was already hanging on the coat rack on the left side of the door. You did the same thing, and after putting your shoes away, you noticed that some of them were already there. You took the slippers left for you and passed the others to your mother. You walked down the short hall and reached the small living room.

Not many people know, but the sense most connected to memories is the smell.

A smell, a scent intense or not, pleasant or not, recurring or not, is what most allows a person to bring back a memory.

A scent of fresh sea water invaded your nostrils in that vivid memory. A distinct smell hit you even before you noticed those brown eyes that you most recognized, even before you heard him say "Welcome to Seoul," even before he came to you for a hug, and even before all that you would eat together.

That smell of the ocean brought back your first vivid memory of a summer evening spent laughing on the beach while building a sand castle. Later, all of the other senses were activated, respectively.

In front of you stood Choi Seungcheol, S.coups, your childhood best friend. He had a smile on his face and promptly stood up to greet you in a long hug.

Then he showed you throughout your small apartment, from the hallway to the shared kitchen and bathroom to the separate but adjacent rooms.

You quickly sorted some of your belongings before proceeding to the kitchen. For a moment, you had even thought that you would sleep in the same room - maybe even in the same bed - as it was.

You had then pondered the innocuous thought while the three of you sat in the kitchen reminiscing about the good old days. So much had changed, and your best friend had grown into an objectively attractive guy.

He had grown taller, the effects of years of gymnastics were visible, and the muscles could be seen even when he wasn't shirtless. He had changed his hairstyle, now wearing a not-so-long mullet with two strands of hair hanging over his eyes, and his clothing style had seemed evolved. He had dressed for the occasion in a tight white sweater with a high neck, explaining that he had done so remembering your style preference for him.

Soon your mother was gone, leaving you alone.

On that autumn evening, you could write an entire essay for how many vivid details you remember.

Beginning with the initial moments of embarrassment, promptly eclipsed by S.coups with his usual irony, which you had learned for many years to counter.

To continue with the thousands of questions and answers you both had. Time had passed, yet your memories of each other had crystallized. In difficult times, he admitted to thinking about your friendship, and you confided in him about your nostalgia for what you had.

He had now begun a singing career, although his company could only pay him enough to live in an apartment near the university, where he sometimes attended classes.

He explained how your mother showed up at one of his early fansigns to propose that the two of you move in together, and how for a year you had been oblivious of this plan. You smiled and noticed how years had passed, yet his method of communicating things through gestures and laughing had not changed.

Immediately, he got interested in you as well, asking you many questions and listening attentively to your responses. You recalled the last nighttime conversation you had with S.coups, the one that divided your fates. And that vivid memory returned to him as well.

The temper of fate had you both laughing - the talk that had divided you remembered the one that had brought you together.

Your best friend mentioned how he no longer slept that well from that night, oblivious that you remembered how you fell asleep holding each other with dry tears on your faces.

The hot tea you were sipping turned quickly into beer and chips, and your chats became increasingly hazy as the sleep began to mix with the alcohol.

You awoke in your bed the next morning, only to discover that S.coups had brought you there. You recognized you were wearing pajamas after looking in the mirror.

Your face turned very red.

But after that initial reaction, you realized you were still wearing the clothing from the previous day underneath, so you laughed at the boy's odd action of kindness.

You walked to the kitchen after a short shower and noticed a still-steaming breakfast on the table. With it there was a note with recognizable handwriting warning you that he had gotten up early because his practice began at 7 a.m. and that he had made you your favorite breakfast, hoping that it hadn't changed over the years.

And it hadn't changed, just as your feelings for that boy hadn't.

Or so S.coups thought...but just as milk for breakfast had been replaced by coffee in your tastes, had your feelings of simple friendship been replaced by anything else?

While these thoughts raced through your mind, you prepared for your first day of college. Anxiety was now accompanied by the reassuring consciousness of being near to your best friend, and you entered the structure that would house you for the next five years, charged with energy.

The fourth vivid memory you have of you and your best friend is during a refreshing spring night when everything changed.

You'd get used to living with S.coups while meeting many new people - from college classmates to everyone in your best friend's group.

A thousand exams were stressing you out, and as the seasons changed, so did your emotions. However, unlike seasons, which must follow an endless cycle that has already been programmed, humans are doomed to an end after traveling the straight stretch that is unpredictable life.

You'd started spending your days and evenings together again. You stayed in your room at first to concentrate, while he stayed in his to avoid disturbing you with music. But before you knew it, you were both in the living room working on your assignments. You'd spend hours studying on the computer or in your books, while S.coups sat on the couch with his headphones on and his eyes closed, imagining the choreography he had learned or humming the choruses of his songs. You'd gone from maximum distance between cities to smallest proximity while sleeping curled on the couch with Studio Ghibli movies playing in the background.

It happened that you would be invited to parties and the two of you together would go without even planning it. And if you were late working for your small job that you had found for yourself, you never had to go home alone - there was always S.coups to drive you home.

You enjoyed long, relaxed drives in the fall and winter, as well as delightful evenings, particularly during the warmer months.

Everyone you knew had doubted your friendship at some point - in fact, everyone was certain that you were having a secret relationship. But every time that topic was posed to you, you denied it, remembering that you had been "best friends from childhood."

Back to the vivid memory from the spring night: the night after your last exams for the school year, the same night S.coups talked to you under the full moon as he had done on that summer night when you were children.

When you checked your phone, it was 6.06 p.m.; you should have been ready for dinner with S.coups in less than half an hour. You'd picked that evening to celebrate the end of your examinations and the start of his first concert tour.

You were in the bathroom getting dressed when you heard S.coups singing from his room. And you were well aware that he only sang out on two occasions, during concerts, or when he was happy. The thought reassured you, and you instinctively smiled at the prospect of going out to dinner with him.

Not that you hadn't done it before, but something felt different this time, perhaps because of your incredible sixth sense.

For the first time, you had no idea where you were going; only he had thought of it, and he had officially asked you to be free that evening because he had something special planned for you. Although he had previously given up after your insistence on the surprise disclosure, he had made no move at that point.

To add to the list of surprises, that time he did not seek your advice on what to wear.

All of this worsened your anxiety, which was tempered by the sound of S.coups's voice in the next room.

You spent the entire afternoon in your wardrobe putting on clothes because you had no idea where you were going. You had tried on every possible clothing, from skirts to dresses to jeans, but in the end, you had chosen one that made you feel comfortable. You would have dared a little more with black shoes and more detailed makeup that enhanced the aspects of your face that you valued the most.

Someone knocked on the bathroom door just as you finished applying your crimson lipstick.

You knew your time in the bathroom was over and chose to finish and go to your room.

S.coups came in as you were leaving. He had the clothing he was going to wear with him, and despite your sneaky glimpse, he pushed you out of the bathroom, mocking your impatience.

As a result, you returned to your room and finished getting ready.

You finished at 6:46 p.m. and waited for him to exit the bathroom.

Meanwhile, you had begun working on your crochet project, because you promised yourself that you would begin as soon as you finished your exam session. You were so busy with counting the stitches that you didn't notice when the hairdryer noise stopped, and S.coups came out of the bathroom.

You only recognized when someone touched your shoulder, and you almost threw what you were holding at him. After looking up and seeing him, you realized that you had not only lost count of the stitches but also more than a few beats.

He was wearing the white turtleneck T-shirt he had put on the first time you had seen each other in years, with a black blazer over it and plain pants of the same color. His hair was carefully put backward with gel, and a trickle of makeup was barely perceptible on his face.

For a moment you felt inadequate, and not dressed enough for how he had put himself.

"C'mon stop looking so good every time, dumbass" until this unexpected comment of his brought you back to reality.

"Look who's talking," you replied.

It was natural for you to exchange compliments, but it was never something too explicit or automatic as on that night.

"Let's go, or we'll be late."

"You're the one who took forever to get ready!"

"Yeah, you aged so much that you looked like a grandmother while working with those wires."

"HEY! Don't make fun of my crochet, I'm slowly learning."

"Croissant- what?"

And that's what you were talking about as you walked toward the car that would take you to the place chosen by S.coups.

You climbed into the car, and the first song that started was BLOSSOM by Enhypen.

Scoups started telling you about how he had met the members of that group and how everyone had been super friendly. But you couldn't focus on what he was saying at the time because he seemed to be the only one who had your attention.

He called out your lack of attention two or three times, but you instantly lied and said you were focused on the song and began humming it. So he didn't question it and began singing along with you.

So you were back in the car together, singing your favorite songs at the top of your lungs.

The first vivid memory came back to you.

" S.coups was so sure he wanted to become a singer [...]

in all his plans, he was never alone - it was always Scoups and Yn."

And that was it, he had become a famous singer, and in his plans, you were really in his future plans too.

You finished singing There is a Light that Never Goes Out by the Smiths just as the car stopped - only later did you find out that S.coups had taken a longer ride to let you finish your songs.

Before you could open the door, he got up and opened it for you

"Oh, what a gentleman," you said to him.

And he responded by bowing his head slightly and chuckling.

The place was not far from where the car had been walking. So you managed to walk for less than five minutes, and by 7:04 p.m. you had arrived.

Outside, two big street lamps illuminated the area, and the entry had a large white windowed door. As soon as you walked in, a waiter approached you, and the sight of S.coups was enough for you to be brought to a reserved table.

From the velvety chairs to the scarlet walls, the inside was all about the red color palette. Everything was surrounded by wide windows, allowing the sunset light to cast a lovely glow on the interior. The smell, on the other hand, was the first thing that struck you and brought back memories of going on family vacations and eating in locations that smelt like home.

That's what the place smelled like, everything you'd left behind when you moved to Seoul from your hometown - it had a reassuring scent of home.

Despite the red, the mood was not too elegant, and numerous people cheered the place with quiet talk.

You had been fascinated for so long that it was S.coups who jolted you awake by encouraging you to sit in the chair he moved for you.

"If you keep being a gentleman, look, I might end up falling for you" you chuckled as you sat down - and that comment had been more spontaneous than ever.

It was only manner, attitude, character, and soul that you had gradually fallen in love with.

"Noted"

"And you're even bringing me to an amazing place! Everything is really beautiful here."

"I know, I know that I have very good taste."

Shortly afterward the menu also came to you, and yours was along with your flower.

Surprised by the gesture, you looked at S.coups questioningly,

"Who knows! The waiter must have a crush on you."

"And how does he know what my favorite flower was?"

"Stalker?"

"Sure, sure.."

You ordered and were quickly served.

You both ended up taking two different things, and swapping them because you liked what he got better and vice versa - it had been that way since you were little.

S.coups told you how well the training was going, and at the same time how tiring they were, and you told him about various things that had happened to you.

You finally had time to talk since you had been particularly busy recently.

You recall standing in silence numerous times, watching how the light of the sunset highlighted his face, to the point where you felt compelled to photograph him to save that memory forever.

As the sun had set, so too had your dinner ended; and of course, it had ended with dessert even though both of you were quite full.

"Come on, I still have to take you somewhere!"

You nodded, and both of you got up to go pay.

He was quicker in handing the card to the cashier, who only commented with a wistful sigh saying: "Oh how beautiful is the young love."

Both of you did not respond, so were you both against that meaning, or did you not want to embarrass the other? Or maybe both?

You would exit and turn away from where the car was. You turned left again and entered what looked like a park. The streetlights that were there slowly diminished until there were no more.

If you had not had him by your side, you would have probably run in fear. But by following him without asking too many questions you could still feel safe.

The moment was silent, and the only noise you could hear was your heels and a slight movement of the leaves. The place had grown darker and darker, and again, the only light illuminating you was that of the full moon.

Unconsciously you attached to his jacket to do not lose him, and then your hand had reached down and entangled with his. You walked for ten minutes when he stopped and asked you to close your eyes.

You, trusting him, did so.

He came beside you and let you cling to his arm again so you would not fall...but you slipped, and you both fell.

You opened your eyes in fright, and before you even realized where you were, you laughed as you realized that both of you were now sitting on the floor.

A collective laughter began as soon as he realized that you had not been seriously hurt.

As soon as you looked into each other's without saying a word you began to laugh heartily, partly because of the funny situation and partly because you both felt the atmosphere lighter.

You were still on the ground, you had not moved, and your bodies were very close.

On that spring night, your laughing filled the silence, and when you opened your watery eyes again - this time from happiness - you heard him say "And here's to you, Seoul."

The last word, which reminded you of the boy's broken voice on a winter night, had now been replaced with a new memory.

It was now forever associated with his cheerful voice and with the time when you were looking down on the city from above.

The lights illuminated it, but your distance still allowed you to see the stars in the sky and the moon that shone most of all.

The more you try to recall that vivid memory, the more you begin to notice how many times your gaze had crossed and how you had been the center of the boy's attention.

But this time you had felt it, and you had taken your dumbfounded gaze off the beautiful sight and set your eyes on him as well.

Proud as he was, he had not taken his gaze off, and so you did the same.

Thus you noticed the moon reflected in his eyes as it illuminated his lips with its pale light.

And, certainly, you were looking at his lips openly by this point - menter his gaze shifted from your mouth to your right eye to your left eye, forming an imaginary triangle.

"It's okay if childhood best friends kiss sometimes, isn't it?"

His sudden sentence had amazed you, for you already looking at him so intensely, so closely had been enough to wake up the butterflies in your stomach.

"Mh, I would say yes."

His eyes first widened in amazement and soon after closed to move closer to you and join your lips.

A kiss full of passion, his hands took your face as you moved closer to him for full contact. It was a kiss the two of you had longed for, and almost 20 years of you were in that moment.

His body and yours were incredibly close, you could feel his heart beating wildly, or maybe it was yours? Or it was both of your hearts quickened by the moment so intense?

As soon as you broke away you timidly rested your head on his right shoulder - by now, you were so close that you were practically laying on his shoulder. You didn't have the boldness - and the breath to speak - so he was the one to say:

"Maybe best friends from childhood do these things sometimes... but can I be your boyfriend to do it whenever I want?"

And that was the fourth vivid memory of you and your best friend during a spring night when everything changed.

But, actually, feelings just revealed themselves to both of you as the seasons of your vivid memories changed.

notes: awop this was my first long fic, thank you so much for reading !! idc if the school part of the story sounds impractical, it’s for the plot; "bleu byzantin" is the name of the perfume I associate with S.coups!! 100% rec

I hope you like it!! ;

comments, likes, and reblogs are always greatly appreciated ♡

161 notes · View notes

jaegeraether · 6 months

Text

Sunsets and footballers (Part 1)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (1)

Masterlist (other parts here)

(Slow start, but it'll pick up, I promise! I love little details, how am I doing for my first ever fanfic? :))

(*Slow burn hopeless romance with Lucy Bronze x reader. :) Smut in chapter 8.*)

Eyes closed, she took a deep breath in and out. The sea breeze whipped a few strands of hair out of her messy bun. She opened her eyes to look at the last rays of daylight as the wind shifted suddenly. A storm was coming – she could feel it. She smiled and looked up at the darkening clouds. She loved the feeling of the darkness creeping in, and the storm. She was unsure whether it was the potential violence of it, or the uncertainty, but she still loved it nonetheless. She felt comfortable in that space. She looked around the beach and saw nobody. It was so different to Australia, where people would be sitting on the beach regardless of the weather. Her eyes searched the beach for any sign of life, and out of curiosity, she checked the little alcove at the top of the sand - barely big enough for a couple. Sure enough, as had been the past several sunsets, she saw her again. She was a petite thing with a kind face, yet it held a frown and sad eyes. She had her arms wrapped around her shins, her chin resting on her knees. Her clothes, although the right sizes, looked like they were drowning her, and her expensive white trainers were ruined by the sand. She held a thousand-mile stare over the water and YFN wondered what she was thinking about. She looked like the kindest person, with the face that had the potential to light up at the smallest of things. She had been here every sunset for the past four days – which is how long YFN had been in the city. Who knows the actual number of times the woman had actually been coming here.

YFN puzzled over her. She wanted to make sure she was okay, but didn’t want to overstep with a complete stranger. YFN knew that look though, and would never be able to forget if she didn’t at least try.

She stood and walked slowly over to the woman, careful to not startle her. As she stopped in front of her, the woman lifted her head from her knees, a small look of surprise and worry crossing her face. Though, the surprise was one of a people-pleasing nature, a look that said she didn’t want to interrupt someone to go out of their day just to speak to her.

YFN sat diagonally to her so as not to block her view or force a close proximity to sit beside her. “Hey, I hope you don't mind me coming over to say hello. I just noticed you seem to be the only person here to appreciate sunsets as much as I do.”

The woman gave a little smile and her eyes softened. “I never really watched sunsets much in my life to be fair. This is a completely new thing to me.” Her accent was unmistakably English though YFN had no idea from where as she was so new to the country.

“Why the change, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I think it calms me. It helps relax my mind.”

YFN nodded. “I get that. I’ve always been a sunset and beach baby though. It’s just so… peaceful? I’m not sure if that’s the right word.”

“Do you like sunrises as well then?”

“Interestingly enough, no. I really don’t. I can admire how pretty they are, sure. But they give me anxiety more than take it away.”

She rested her chin back on her knees. “Ah. You’re not from around here, are you?”

“Is the accent that bad?”

“You sound quite English to be fair, but you speak a bit different. Where are you from?”

“Australia. Landed about four days ago, actually.”

“Australia?! I love Australia. No wonder you’re at the beach. You don’t sound very Australian though.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” She laughed. “I’m YFN.”

“I’m Jordan.”

“Nice to meet you, Jordan.” She smiled and received a genuinely happy smile in return. “To be honest, you’re the first person I’ve had a proper conversation with here, and I hope you don’t take this in a negative way at all, but I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

Jordan’s head lifted again in surprise, again that people pleasing worry that someone was going out of their way to worry about her was present. She opened her mouth to speak but no words came out. YFN continued to fill the void. “I’ve seen you here the past four days and I don’t mean to overstep, I just noticed you looked a little…upset…perhaps, and wanted to come over and offer myself as an ear or a friend, whatever you may need.”

Jordan’s lips twitched and she pressed them together as if she were trying to stop her tears from starting. Her chin quivered and she tilted her head back slightly in an attempt to stop the tears before they began.

“Oh, I’m so sorry Jordan.” She said her name to create a common ground between them. “Honestly, I pride myself on being the most understanding person you’ll ever meet so please, I’m right here if you need to talk, or need a hug. Anything you need. I’m right here.”

Jordan gave a little laugh and used the cuffs of her baggy shirt to wipe her tears away.

“I’m sorry I’m just blubbering away like a child.”

YFN pulled herself up the sand so she was sitting right next to her. “Don’t be sorry at all. I’m right here. To be honest, who else is better to talk to than a stranger you might not see again, hey?”

Jordan smiled and gave another little laugh, though the tears were increasing. YFN took a risk and put her arm around Jordan’s little body. She clutched her far shoulder and rubbed it to soothe her. Jordan leaned into her, her whole body a quivering mess slowly becoming undone.

“I…I…I’ve lo…lost everything.” Her hands went up to cover her face and YFN turned slightly, wrapped her other arm around her also, pulling her close. Her body was so little and fragile. She cried louder, letting herself be held by YFN.

“You’ll be okay, Jordan. Let it all out. I’m right here. Just take your time and let it all out.” Jordan relaxed a little and continued to cry, sniffling into her hands. YFN took a few tissues out of her pocket and slipped them into her hands.

“Th…th…tha…” She wiped her eyes and blew her nose. After she calmed a bit, she leaned back, her eyes red and puffy, with an attempt at an apologetic smile. YFN gave back the most heartfelt, empathetic smile she could. She kept one arm around her.

“Oh – I definitely needed that.”

“I think you did. I think you need a bit more to be honest, but that’s a good start.”

Jordan blew her nose again and a shiver rippled through her spine. YFN rubbed her shoulder to give her some warmth.

“Would you like to talk about it, or we could sit in silence if you’d like?”

Jordan looked at her. She felt relaxed and like she could be herself around the woman. She felt like a genuine, nice human. Jordan also assumed from everything that she had no idea who she was and what she did for a living. That helped encourage her to open up. “I just feel so sad all the time lately. I don’t get it – it’s not me.” YFN stayed quiet and let her talk. It was healthy to talk. “I lost my partner, I lost my c…club of over ten years…it was my h…home. I lost my spot on the England squad. I can’t even represent my c…country. I’m just.. really not doing well at the moment, and I don’t know what to do or who to talk to.”

“You’re an athlete?”

Jordan nodded. “Football.”

“Ah, I heard that’s pretty popular here.”

Jordan laughed. “Yeah, we’re a bit obsessed over here to be fair.”

“Do you have a new club?”

“Yeah…yeah I do.”

“Was it your choice to leave?”

“Yeah it was. I wasn’t getting enough play time. I’m a footballer – I need to play. And my ex is at the club, and it was getting hard to see her every day. Leaving was the hardest decision I’ve ever had to make.”

“Did someone help you make that decision?”

“Yeah actually, I had a friend who I was speaking to about it all. She was really encouraging about it all, to be fair. She said leaving was the right choice.”

“Well I don’t know this friend but I’m one hundred percent certain she was right. You made the right choice for your career, and for your emotional health. It may feel like you’ve lost everything, but you need to look at it instead as a new beginning. Because that’s exactly what it is. New beginning with new friends in a new location. More play time. Time to yourself and away from your ex. This is such a positive step!”

Jordan smiled and her body relaxed as she looked up at YFN. “Really?”

“Really. I promise. It’s only hurting because it’s all so new. Change is scary but it’s a good thing for you. It’s exciting to be honest! So much more opportunity.”

Jordan nodded. “You’re right.” Her lip quivered again. “It’s just so hard at the moment and I feel so alone in all of this.” She shivered as a gust of cold wind swept over them.

YFN rubbed her shoulder again. “Who’s your friend who helped you make a decision? Can you call her to spend the night and help give you some advice and support?”

“L…Lucy. She should be in London for camp at the moment actually.”

“Perfect. Maybe we should call her and you can spend the night. Do you think she’d like that?”

“Y…eah. I just wouldn’t want to ruin her camp.”

“She’s your friend. I’m sure she will prioritise you above all else, hm? Friends come first.” Jordan looked unsure – her people pleasing face on again. “It’s okay to ask for support.” YFN whispered to soften the blow. She rubbed her shoulder. “Can I call her for you?”

Jordan nodded and took out her phone. She brought up the contact and gave the phone to YFN.

“I’ll be just a minute, okay?” YFN took the phone and moved away from Jordan. She shivered again, her little body not dealing well with the wind. YFN knelt down in front of her and took off her jacket, ignoring Jordan’s protests as she put it on her. Jordan gave her a thankful smile. YFN smiled back and stood, walking just far enough away that she wouldn’t be able to hear. She dialled the number.

“Hey Jords, what’s happening?” Again, another English accent, though this one was stronger and still just a mystery to YFN.

“Hi…Lucy? This isn’t Jordan, it’s YFN. You don’t know me, I only met Jordan ten minutes ago.”

“Is she okay?” The voice was immediately worried and concerned.

“She’s okay. We’re just at the beach. I noticed she’d been coming down here for a few days, and looking a little upset and lost. I just came over to make sure she’s okay and she’s not. I think she’s had a rough time lately with her ex and her club and the England squad she mentioned? Anyways, I think it’s best if she had a friend to talk to and spend the night with.”

“Absolutely. Which beach are you at? I’ll come right now.”

“I’m not sure actually, and I think that’ll be a bit too much for her. She needs support but I’ve noticed she doesn't like the idea of putting anyone out. I think you turning up here might be a bit too like an intervention. She mentioned she didn’t want to ruin your camp also.”

“Argh Jords.” She sounded frustrated and worried. “Okay well do you think you can get her to my place at all? I’m sorry to ask more of you.”

“No, it’s okay, I promise. I don’t mind at all. She seems like an amazing person, and so do you, to be honest. I just want her to be okay and know that she has support. It’s really important.”

“Yes, it is. Okay come to mine, Jords knows the address, and I’ll see you soon, okay? Let me know if you need me to come get you from anywhere.”

“Thanks Lucy, we’ll see you soon.”

YFN hung up and walked back over to Jordan who was zoned out again, staring at the sand. She knelt down and gave her phone back with a smile. “Lucy seems lovely. She’s excited to see you.”

“She’s a good friend.” Jordan smiled in return.

“She wants you to stay the night. Do you know how to get there from here?”

She nodded and paused, looked up at YFN. “Can you come with me?” She asked hesitantly, as she struggled to ask for help.

“Of course I can!” She took Jordan’s hands and helped pull her up. She went to take the jacket off and YFN caught her. “Nuh uh uh. Keep it for now, please. You look freezing.”

They walked up the beach to the stairs and ascended them, the wind getting even more aggressive. Jordan stopped at the top and took her shoes off one at a time to empty the sand out. The wind almost knocked her little body over as she was balancing and YFN caught her before she fell, holding her steady while she put her shoe back on.

“Jeez, you’re like my guardian angel.” Jordan laughed.

“Chivalry isn’t dead when I’m around, mate!” YFN put on a strong Australian accent.

They walked in comfortable silence for a bit, YFN not wanting to push her to talk or to get emotional again. The silence was the good kind though, the comfortable kind. They would brush against each other by accident, setting a pace perfect for them both. YFN looked up at the dark storm clouds above them and smelled petrichor. She loved the smell of coming rain.

“I never asked anything about you. What are you doing here?”

“Are you about to tell me to go back to my own country?”

Jordan laughed. “No, of course not!”

“I’ve always wanted to visit and was sick of waiting for people who always had excuses, so I decided to do it alone. Best decision. Have you travelled much?”

“I mean, I’ve travelled a lot with football, but mainly in Europe. We had the World Cup last year over in Australia though. That was the best time of my life. The beaches and the weather were incredible.”

“Do you have anywhere else you want to go?”

“So many places, but I always expected to go with Leah, you know?”

“Your ex?”

Jordan flinched, realising she had just mentioned Leah Williamson, Captain of the England Squad and world-wide known celebrity. She looked for a reaction at the name from YFN and didn’t get one. It comforted her that YFN genuinely had no clue about any of them. “Yeah… yeah. We sort of…fell apart. I don’t know how I can love someone else. She was perfect. I was so lucky.”

“What happened?” YFN asked softly. Jordan hesitated. YFN opened her mouth to give her an out.

“She grew. I didn’t. I stayed the same. Same old me. Never getting games, just happy to be there. Watching my friends all get game time and do amazing things while I was only there because I was dating the Captain. She learnt so much and I just… wasn’t enough anymore.” She was crying again, harder. So hard that she couldn’t see where she was going. YFN offered her arm and she took it, letting her lead the way. It started raining then, and it didn’t begin slowly, it came down hard, hard, harder. Big droplets. They were both soaked in an instant. They continued to walk, almost unable to hear each other in the rain. YFN saw a little alcove and pushed Jordan back into it so she would be dry for a bit. YFN, however, was still in the rain. The alcove was only big enough for one.

“Is it far?!” She almost shouted above the rain.

Jordan shook her head, and YFN could see that the rain had sombered her mood even further. “I lost everything. I lost her. I lost my family. My club. Everything.” She let herself feel her emotion loudly, being comforted by the deafening sound of the rain. YFN’s heart broke and she wrapped Jordan up into an all-encompassing hug. She knew the feeling all too well. Jordan sobbed loudly, as she clung to YFN as if she were a life support. YFN rested her chin on her head and rubbed her back. “It’s okay. It’s all going to be okay. I promise. I’ve got you.”

Jordan clung tighter, her whole body quivering with grief. YFN felt Jordan’s phone vibrate and let her continue to grieve, grabbing the phone out. Several missed calls from Lucy, as well as messages. Just as she was about to message back, she called again. YFN held Jordan tight against her with one arm in the little alcove, her other answering the phone.

“Hello?”

“YFN? Is she okay?”

She tightened her grip around the woman. “We’ve just had to make a stop with the rain.”

“There’s a storm. That’s why I’ve been calling. I’m in my car driving around to find you two. Where are you?” Lucy’s voice was worried and commanding.

YFN looked at the store window they were leant up against. “Daly’s Deli? Do you know where that is?”

“I’m just turning the corner now. I’ll be there in a minute.”

The phone hung up and YFN pocketed it. She placed her arm back around Jordan.

“Everything…everything…Leah…Arsenal…my England squad…my friends…”

“Jordan… you need to stop following this grief. Allow yourself to grieve, yes, but we need to think of the positives also, okay? New club, new people, new opportunities, more play time. It’s scary to start new but it’s incredible. You’re going to have so many new opportunities!”

A car quickly pulled up by the curb behind them and a woman stepped out, car still running, and came over. She didn’t seem to care about the rain, her focus on the two women holding each other in the alcove. Lucy’s dark brown hair was up in a messy bun, her clear framed glasses getting soaked in the rain. She wiped them as she hurried over. Her eyes met YFN’s and she paused, blinking. The two shared something, and then their attention shifted to Jordan.

“Jords, I’m here.” Lucy placed a hand on YFN’s back, and Jordan’s head, as if to protect them both in their little alcove.

“L…Lucy?”

“I’m here, Jords. Let’s get you warm and dry. Come on.”

Jordan refused to let go of YFN as they all made their way to the car. Lucy opened the door as the two slid into the back. Lucy got into the driver’s seat and drove the rest of the way to her house. She pulled into the garage where it was dry and they managed to get Jordan out and into the house.

“Alright Jords, straight into the shower please. Warm yourself up. I’ve put some clothes in there for you. I’ll be right out here, okay?”

Jordan nodded grabbed YFN’s arm. “You’re not leaving, are you?” It was a question that sounded like a plea.

YFN looked at Lucy. “If that’s okay.”

“Absolutely. She’s staying Jords. Now go warm up please.”

Lucy and YFN took a seat at the kitchen bench, both drying themselves off with towels.

“Coffee? Tea?”

“No thank you, I don’t drink either.”

Lucy raised her eyebrows like she was impressed. “She’s going to want you to stay the night, you know.”

“How do you know?”

She rolled her eyes. “Jords has been one of my closest mates for over a decade. I know.”

YFN couldn’t take her eyes off the woman. “I don’t know if that would be appropriate. We did only meet an hour ago..”

If YFN didn’t know better, she’d say that Lucy looked disappointed. “Well, you’re more than welcome. I have a spare room and spare clothes. If you do end up going, at least let me drive you there so you avoid the rain.”

“I love the rain.” YFN almost whispered.

“Me too.” Lucy stated, sharing a look. “But we can’t have you getting sick or walking home alone. Where is home, by the way?”

“Ah, I’m just staying at a hotel in town.”

Her dark eyebrows raised again. “You’re not from here?”

“Australian. Visiting. Arrived four days ago.”

Lucy looked even more intrigued. “I love Australia. That explains the accent. How long are you here for?”

“I didn’t really set a timeline, I was hoping to be in England for at least two weeks, then onto some European countries.”

“Are you travelling with a partner..?”

YFN smiled at the question. “No partner, just me.”

#lucy bronze #jordan nobbs #engwnt #woso #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso community #woso soccer #lionesses #womens football #lucy bronze x reader #lucy bronze imagine

192 notes · View notes

genshingorlsrevengeance · 1 year

Text

(Genshin Impact) Yae, Ei, Yelan, and Shenhe seeing their S/O in a swimsuit

Thanks for the kind words!

(Yae) "Well, don't you look rather fetching today?"

Yae stares with a smile and zero shame. The swimsuit she's wearing herself is somehow revealing and not revealing at the same time.

(S/O) "Aren't you hopping in the water?"

(Yae) "In due time. But I insist, you can go first. I just wish to bathe in the sunlight for a moment."

(S/O) "You're in the shade."

(Yae) "Run along now, little one. I promise to join later."

Her eyes don't go off them the entire time, and will equally tease S/O if she realizes they haven't stopped looking at her either.

Hilariously, Ei's clothes don't even change for the beach. She's in her exact usual outfit even standing on top of the sand.

(Ei) "...S/O, where are your clothes?"

(S/O) "Are you swimming in that?"

(Ei) "We're swimming?"

Ei doesn't go too crazy about S/O's swimsuit, but thinks they look nice regardless.

After a little bit of seeing S/O enjoy the waters, she wants to get in for a moment herself.

(Ei) "One moment, I will join you."

(S/O) "Oh, okay-EI NO, DON'T JUST TAKE YOUR CLOTHES OFF!-"

Yelan's smile grows when she sees S/O walk up in their swimsuit.

(Yelan) "Looking good."

Yelan's swimsuit was a one-piece that exposed her stomach. She noticed S/O trying not to stare too much.

(S/O) "T-Thanks. You look good too."

(Yelan) "Aw, getting shy? It's just us two, no need to get embarrassed."

(S/O) "No no, it's just a little hot is all. How about we get in the water already?"

(Yelan) "Hah, sure thing."

Yelan puts their swimsuit to memory, even if it isn't too impressive it's something Yelan wants to remember.

Their body was quite fetching to her, even if she didn't say it.

Shenhe barely has a reaction when she sees S/O's swimsuit.

She's wearing only a skin-tight black suit herself that can go into water. One would be forgiven for thinking it wasn't a swimsuit at all.

(Shenhe) "...S/O, you're red. Is it that hot for you?"

(S/O) "Y-Yeah, something like that.

She realized they weren't looking her in the eyes, but it didn't bother her too much. What S/O didn't have the heart to say was that her suit exposed her curves very well.

But Shenhe enjoys her time with S/O at the beach. She may not have remembered their swimsuit, but she would always remember that smile.

#genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #yae miko x reader #ei x reader #yelan x reader #shenhe x reader #yae miko #ei raiden #ei genshin impact #yelan genshin impact #shenhe genshin impact

447 notes · View notes

pathetic-sapphic · 9 months

Text

Beach date with Sevika

Whoo baby I hope you're ready because it's going to take a long while to convince this woman to go somewhere where it's hot and full of irritating sand. No seriously, you prepare a whole speech and a PowerPoint presentation and it still doesn't work. Until of course, you put a worm in her ear by reminding her that going to the beach means seeing you in a swimsuit. She doesn't need more convincing after that and, as happy as you are, you are equally frustrated that, after all the effort you went through, this was all it took to convince her. Sevika was, after all, a very simple (and horny) woman.

Since she doesn't take time off of work often, you decide to make a whole day of it. You pack everything that you two will need and she carries it the way there. You make a ton of sandwiches and stock up on sunscreen because, as much as Sevika insists she doesn't need it, you're not about to listen to her whining after she gets sunburnt and you yourself aren't a big fan of getting them either.

Takes off her mechanical arm as she doesn't want to risk it getting damaged from the salt or sand. This means that it's up to you to put sunscreen on her and you're certainly not complaining. You'd have to be a fool to pass up on getting to smear sunscreen all over her body and boy, do you take your time (especially when it comes to her thighs and abs). She offers to get your back which you think is so damn sweet of her and girl literally whistles when you show her your cute bikini. Even makes you do a little twirl so she can get a good look at her gorgeous girlfriend.

Sevika prefers swim trunks and a sport top and damn does she look good in it. You're glad you two are alone on the beach because you're not willing to share this lovely view with anyone else. You always call her out for being possessive over you but, in truth, you're just as bad when it comes to her.

Once you start getting into the water, she will hurry you up and lightly splash you if you take too long. She is one of those people who immediately just throw themselves into the sea regardless of how cold it is. You two float around, laughing and throwing yourselves at one another. When you notice her genuinely having fun and letting one of those deep hearty laughs, you feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

After a while, both of you decide to eat and sunbathe for a while. You planned on reading a book but Sevika insists you take a nap with her, thank goodness you brought a parasol with you.

Once it's time to go home, you're both exhausted and itching to wash off the sea salt off of yourselves. Just when you're about to leave, Sevika puts her arm around her and says: ''You know, babygirl, this idea of yours wasn't half bad. How do you feel about making it a sort of a tradition?'' she asks with a grin that shows off her adorable tooth gap.

With a soft kiss to her full lips you hum in agreement, already thinking about the next time you'll bring her here. Judging by the slight redness of her cheeks, you'll definitely need to bring more sunscreen... or maybe you're just that good at making the Scary Lady of Zaun utterly entranced and enamored with your lovely presence.

#arcane #sevika #arcane sevika #sevika x reader #sevika x female reader #sevika headcanons #arcane x reader #sevika x y/n #sevika x you #sevika headcanon #arcane headcanons #arcane sevika x reader #requests are open

261 notes · View notes

abiiors · 18 days

Text

birthday surprise - matty x reader

part 2 of matty's birthday weekend a/n: this is scheduled. by the time this goes up, i will (hopefully🤞🏼) be on a beach somewhere, day drunk 😌 cw: vomit (because hungover), dramatic (because sad), once again vague descriptions of depression. some kissing and suggestive stuff. idiots friends to lovers wc: 3.1k

george’s massive hand rests on matty’s back while he retches into the toilet.

his head pounds mercilessly, the sunlight streaming in through the window is barely helping and the soured wine churning in his stomach comes back up once again, leaving him gasping for air. a loud splash echoes in the bathroom and matty groans, gagging a bit more.

george is a good friend. he lets matty lean on him and holds the glass of water so matty can slowly sip from it.

it barely works though. he feels like shit regardless, and none of it can be cured by water or food or painkillers.

george helps him get back to bed once matty feels slightly better. the whole time neither of them say a word. matty doesn’t know how much of last night has been told to his friend—does he know the precise way in which matty fucked up? did he see matty in the act? overhear the conversation accidentally?

george’s face looks completely blank. he does all the right things—sets a glass of water and a few painkillers next to matty, grabs him a bucket, draws the blackout curtains. he even offers to get breakfast.

“fry up from that small cafe down the street,” he says in a hushed voice. “come on, greasy food’s good for hangovers.”

matty mumbles something like a vague yes, if only so george would step out of the house for a bit. once he’s out, matty searches for his phone, wedged somewhere between the mattress and the headboard. the sudden brightness makes him wince but once he manages to open his eyes, he checks for messages and missed calls.

apart from one missed call from george and one from jamie, there’s nothing.

nothing from her.

not one message.

the last message he’s sent to her sits at read—it’s nothing special, just the address to the pub they were going to meet at. and then… yeah, matty remembers how well that went.

he remembers the last look on her face before she stormed off.

then it’s just a fog.

his throat feels clogged, his eyes sting but no tears come. matty just lays there, curled up like a pathetic worm, clutching his pillow until seconds or minutes or hours later george re-enters his room.

“right, come on,” he flings the covers off matty, making him feel a sudden draft of cold air. “i’m not getting you breakfast in bed, mate. you’re hungover, not an invalid.”

“‘m not hungry,” matty mumbles. his voice is hoarse and his throat hurts—probably the vomiting—but it’s nothing in comparison to his head. a delayed realisation hits him that he never took the painkillers.

george huffs. “don’t be a diva.” and if matty had any strength he would absolutely be offended by that. then again maybe george doesn’t know the full extent of last night.

“seriously george—”

“matty. you’re going to get out of bed and come to the kitchen. we are going to eat and then we are going to talk about last night.”

well… there goes that. a stubborn side of him wants to be an absolute ass and dig his feet in. say all sorts of mean things to george just so he’d leave. but isn’t that what got him here in the first place? he really isn’t in the position to hurt more people in his life.

like a small child matty drags his feet the entire way to the kitchen, turning his nose up at the food on the table. (even though it looks really good and his stomach does growl now that he can smell the food) george doesn’t egg him on any further. he just motions to the chair and slides a mug of coffee in front of him.

“you said what?”

it’s the eerily calm edge to george’s voice that makes matty shrink in his seat. he does feel better with some food in his stomach, physically at least. but the way george stares at him—eyes cold, lips pressed in a thin line—makes him feel sick to his stomach all over again.

“i said– i– i said it was the first of april, i told her it was a joke.” his voice is a pathetic whisper, words drowned by shame and guilt and self-hatred. matty wishes he could go back in time and undo it all. he won’t say any of it.

he won’t even touch the wine in the first place.

“right after you said i love you.”

“yeah.”

“huh.”

easy for george to say that. it’s not his love life blowing up in his face right now. matty stabs the tomato next to his half-eaten toast, watching it spill its guts onto the plate. red. just like last night.

he remembers that part of it.

“what happened after? how did i… get home?”

george goes a bit silent for a second, not meeting matty’s eyes which sets alarm bells ringing in his head.

“do you really not remember?”

when matty shakes his head, george just sighs and then softly says her name. “she called charli, crying a lot and i figured something went down. i called you–don’t you remember that?” when matty’s blank face gives him the answer, george continues, “you sounded really awful like… you were gasping for breath. i could barely understand you. so i thought i’d pick you up and get you home. i’m glad i did.”

in all of this the only part matty focuses on is her. and that she called charli crying a lot. of course, he thanks george but it’s only half-hearted, distracted. he can’t get the image of it out of his mind—her sobbing on the other end of the phone, barely able to get a word out. it breaks his heart all over again.

he did that.

this is all his fault.

“matty… you have to make it right.”

that’s the biggest problem of it all—he doesn’t know how. what is he supposed to do, call her up and say: hey, so you know how i drunkenly said i love after which i assumed you looked at me with disgust and then i said it was all a joke and you stormed off? well it was not a joke i am seriously in love with you and i don’t know what happens to our friendship after this.

yeah. there’s no way to put it any better.

so he just nods. at least, that way he doesn’t have to answer to george right now. he’s figure out a way to do it later, once he doesn’t feel like a raisin. he’ll figure out a proper plan, build up the courage to call her.

for now matty can only swallow the rest of the now-lukewarm coffee and hope that he can just sleep the rest of the day off.

for three days after that, his messages stay on delivered.

it’s a harrowing process, to pick up his phone and dial her number only for it to go to voicemail after the second ring. almost like she’d stabbed her thumb on the glaring red reject button.

all his messages went unanswered too. all the—

hey

can we talk please?

please!

i just want to say sorry

just hear me out

—all of them ignored, like all his other efforts to reach her through her friends.

day four charli shows up at his doorstep, face twisted in a scowl, eyes like embers ready to singe him if he stepped one toe out of line, mayhem in tow.

the puppy is his last straw. the fact that she sent mayhem back with charli instead of dropping him off herself… matty doesn’t even want to think what that means for him. for them.

he mumbles a quiet “thanks” to charli, afraid of speaking anything louder.

“if it weren’t for george—” she starts and swallows, as if she’s literally swallowing her anger. “nevermind. forget about it.”

and then she leaves him standing at his doorstep like a loser, mayhem’s leash in hand.

much later he realises that the collar is different now, it’s no longer the slightly frayed old brown collar from before. this one is new.

this one is green. a green that matches her hair…

the thought of it makes his throat clog up with tears once again. when had she even had the time to go buy him a new collar? one to match her hair so perfectly? was it before or after he fucked up? matty scratches mayhem behind his ears who lets out a soft little whine and nuzzles him in return. maybe the puppy is sad too, maybe mayhem prefers being with her instead of being with him.

the next few days he spends like a pig in a pigsty, surrounded by his own filth of food cartons and cigarette butts and coke cans. he makes it a mission to call her once every day—all of them go unanswered anyway so what’s the point?

by the time the seventh of april rolls around, matty doesn’t even bother thinking about his birthday anymore—there’s no pointing in celebrating it, he’s not even in the mood right now. one failed celebration is enough.

his friends, of course, have a whole different plan in mind.

jamie shows up at his house the evening of the seventh, not ready to take no for an answer. it’s just a small dinner, he says, only friends and family. (matty knows that’s not true, knows it’s going to be a whole surprise party) but every “no” is met with a gentle refusal to accept it and so ultimately, he gives in and dresses up in his cleanest, least sad shirt. the one that least screams “i took my first shower of the week today”.

jamie, to his credit, tries engaging him in conversation. matty, to his credit, tries not to answer in one syllable words. it gets exhausting real quick though, so they end up spending the rest of the car ride in silence.

everything that happens after is a blur in his mind—the pub looks ordinary from the outside, inconspicuous. everyone yells “surprise!” much like he predicted. matty smiles, cheery and fake. someone hands him a drink, which he tries to refuse but the person is too far away to hear him over the music now. his stomach roils at the thought of being in another pub, in the middle of another birthday party.

he just wants to go home and curl up onto his bed and never move again.

except…

matty’s heart stops when he spots a green head.

he blinks rapidly, about to rub his eyes to make sure he didn’t hallucinate. maybe there are drugs in the air, maybe the (untouched) drink in his hands is actually spiked.

but the green head moves and she steps away from behind george, a glass of some dark cocktail in her hands and her eyes trained on him. matty staggers to a stop, about to drop the glass in his hands.

“hey…” her voice is hesitant, unsure when she first walks up to him. from behind her, george throws matty a look, his brow raised as if to say one chance, matty. better make it right.

of all the things that have happened today, this… this is the real surprise.

matty stands there like an idiot, tongue-tied and wide-eyed, unable to come up with a simple “hi”.

“should we… uh, head outside?” it’s when she points vaguely behind her, to the smoking area, that he realises just how loud it is inside. the consistent beat of the song thumps through his chest, making him feel more anxious than ever. in a daze, he nods and then dutifully follows her outside.

as soon as the door to the smoking area closes behind him, she whirls around, arms crossed in front of her chest, brows knit in an indecipherable expression. “talk.”

oh.

well, that’s what he had said to her hadn’t he? in all the text messages he had sent. that he just wants to talk. he just wants one chance. and now that the chance is here, his mouth's as dry as a desert.

“i was… an idiot, no forget that, i was a real cunt to you. just like you said, i’m so sorry for the awful shit i said, i…” his words come out stilted and awkward. he has no idea where he’s going with this, he only knows he needs to earn her forgiveness somehow.

even if he has to get on his knees.

“i got drunk an–and cruel and said things i didn’t mean—”

“what things?”

“w-what?”

“the things you didn’t mean,” she clears her throat, “what things were they? the part where you said i love you or–or the part where you said it was all a joke?”

matty’s insides feel like jelly all over again. it’s like he’s back where he was a week ago—just a boy, standing in front of the girl he loves, about to say the stupidest thing in the world.

“well?”

“i didn’t mean it as a j–joke.” his voice comes out as a cowardly whisper, high pitched and barely audible. that’s no way to say the things he really wants to say!

gathering all his courage, matty steps closer to her. to his utter surprise, she doesn’t step away.

“it wasn’t a joke, what i said to you. i—” he chokes, nervously running a hand through his hair, wondering what the slight widening of her eyes means out of the million possibilities his brain’s already conjured up.

“i know i was drunk and barely making sense but i meant it… i meant all of it.”

slowly, she uncrosses her arms, letting them dangle at her sides. the crease between her brows relaxes too. suddenly, it’a her taking a step forward until they’re toe-to-toe and she has to tilt her chin up to look him in the eyes. the moonlight shines bright on her face, the glitter gleams on her eyelids, and for a moment matty is completely awestruck.

how is he meant to find words when she leaves him so completely tongue-tied?

“and what’s ‘it’, huh?”

the faint ringing in his ears starts up all over again and music from inside the pub floats through the walls, mellowed and somehow peaceful. this is it, he thinks. he fucked it up once, he absolutely cannot do it again.

“i meant i… i love you. not as a friend. i mean n-no, of course, i love you as a friend but i also meant it as something more. not that you have to reciprocate! i just–it’s just what i feel—”

the rest of his words die on his lips. get cut off by someone else’s lips more like it. her lips. against his.

matty’s eyes resemble wide saucers until her arms wrap around him, fingers tangling into his hair. her nails brushing against his scalp is what makes his body relax and suddenly matty’s kissing her back.

tenderly, he holds her cheek, tucking away stray hair behind her ear. his other hand rests on her waist, too hesitant to grip her tightly but too scared to just let go. as if once he lets go of her, she’ll float away, far away from him again, out of his reach. matty’s sure she can feel his heart hammering in his chest. he’s not super proud of it but the kiss makes him forget all about being embarrassed.

the feel of her tongue lighting teasing his lips is all that matters.

she makes a sound at the back of her throat, almost a… moan and pulls away abruptly, looking shy all of a sudden.

matty touches his lips with trembling fingers.

“was that too—”

“are you joking?!” if he though his voice was breathy before, it has nothing on what he sounds like now. the sound that comes out of him is hoarse, like he’s struggling to breathe and it’s making him feel dizzy. the good kind of dizzy. “so i fucked up, majorly, might i add! and i get rewarded with a kiss?!”

she giggles, all anger from before melting away right in front of his eyes. “it was more to shut you up honestly, you would have been here all night. rambling.”

for the first time in a week, matty can finally breathe, can finally feel the blood in his veins flow again. for the first time in a week, matty feels like a person again. “it wasn’t a reward. just because you’re pretty and a good kisser doesn’t mean i’ll forgive you so quickly.”

matty grins, “you think i’m pretty?” and promptly gets punched in the arm.

it takes them a moment to stop giggling, but when they finally sober up, she turns serious again. “seriously though, matty, it hurt me a lot, what you did. i think… i think i can set it aside for tonight but i’m going to need some time to figure things out.

matty nods. of course, he knows the impact his words must have had. shame and guilt blooms deep within him, strong and acrid.

“don't forgive me yet, love. forgive me when i earn it. forgive me when you think i’m worthy of it.”

when she kisses him again, it’s deeper than the last time. her entire body is pressed against his, so warm and soft in arms, exactly like he’s imagined countless times before. he can’t stop himself—can’t stop him from finally holding onto her waist, hand sliding down to her ass. can’t stop himself from pushing her back till her back hits the wall and a soft gasp leaves her mouth. every nerve ending in his body is on hyperdrive. everywhere she touches, electricity zings through him.

matty slides his tongue in her mouth, pulling on her bottom lip with his teeth and soothing the sting away with his tongue. every time he feels her shiver, matty presses further into her. he just wants more and more and more—more than he can do here and now on this balcony.

all his friends are inside for fucks sake.

“you can start now,” she teases, smiling roguishly against his mouth. “you’d look quite nice on your knees, i think.”

blood simmers under his skin, rushing south all at once and this time it’s matty who shivers, struggling to stand upright.

“yeah? that what you want, sweetheart?”

“take me home, please,” she says. and matty agrees in a heartbeat.

taglist: @scooby-doodoo @partoftheairforce @justgoatsbreakinghearts0855 @beachesgetpeaches @you-muppet @mcabister @alexmarie29 @at-her-very-foreign @hfkait @squishysoupy @sierraeslaprincesa @harrie-fic-center @alien-girl-violet @thereisaplaceintheheart @kennedy-brooke @lolidontknowanymore @theoriginalwhatsername @celestcies @sugarkane1001 @ari-turner @thewaywewereinsaigon @daphnesutton @beliefandsayingsomething @ros3chu @nothingrevealedeverythingdenied @zzzhealy @mattymybeloved @fck-off @indiaamars @sofaritsalrightt @k4tie75 @wondersecret @humptyhoran @indierockgirrl @hanbiior @moreyoulove-moreyouknow @rossgirly @if-my-heart-bleeds @little-lovely-darling @abriefnirvana @renitypoem @sinarainbows @lady-may-targaryen @love4agesss @angrylittlebaldman @oneluckygirl @sinarainbows @starvchaser @noacfapologyst @abouttofillhisshoes @tbhnotthatfunny

add yourself to the taglist

#matty35 #the 1975 #matty healy #matty's birthday weekend #matty healy x reader #matty healy x you #matty x reader #matty x you

119 notes · View notes

forasecondtherewedwon · 3 months

Text

a tall, tall tale no one believes

Fandom: Percy Jackson and the Olympians Pairing: Sally/Poseidon Rating: M Word Count: 875

Summary: How do I feel? she asked, and he told her, weak in all his strength, Wet.

Sally can’t sink, which is a strange trade-off for raising her little boy alone, but it’s just a fact of her life. The ocean bears her up. At the cottage, she rinses vegetables in a colander in the sink and, if her hands dip in to agitate some brussels sprouts, the water floats them to the top, refusing to sieve through the holes, refusing physics, cradling the back of her hands. Her fingertips never prune.

It’s the same in her apartment’s bathtub, the Finger Lakes, the model boat pond in Central Park. Percy isn’t sure about it, only four, but she helps him set his boat on the still water. The moment Sally slips her hand beneath the surface, a current propels the boat along. Her son is surprised and delighted. She wonders whether Poseidon can see, whether the water is a two-way glass, whether he feels any paternal instincts that aren’t too supernatural to put in a parenting book. Regardless, it makes her smile to watch them playing together at the park, the sunshine on Percy’s hair.

She teaches him about it: how wild water and domestic water touch. About rain and rivers, aquifers and Arctic thaw, treatment plants and tap water. How it’s all connected, like her and him. She rubs her thumb across his freckled cheek. All one thing that will always find its way back to each other, to the ocean. Those concepts are so bound up, but Sally doesn’t tell him, not yet. Instead, she laughs when Percy puts his ear to the closed tap and claims he can hear the ocean. Sally, unsinkable, would believe him in a heartbeat, except that he’s giggling the whole time. She tells him, Well, it’s time for bed. Try not to get any perch caught in your toothbrush. He’s at an age now where his end of their make-believe will drop away unexpectedly. Those are freshwater fish, Percy corrects. Her mistake.

Older, and he’s at school. The bathroom is unbeatable for oasis per square foot; it’s where she goes when the apartment is loud, or quiet, or it’s pouring and she’s in a mood that makes her afraid of what the people in the building across from hers will think if she climbs out onto the fire escape and gets too friendly with the rain. In the shower, where the water came from the ocean, sometime, someway, somehow, Sally makes it cry down her body before it returns to his domain. Remember me? is the question she doesn’t speak aloud. Her boyfriend keeps complaining to the super that the pressure’s for shit, that the spray is cloudy, that he gets out of the shower grimier than when he got in. But water pours clear as glass from the head and runs over Sally’s closed eyelids, her parted lips. It’s her lover on her skin, and sometimes she feels crazy for thinking it, but then the water streams along the blue veins visible on the pale parts of her breasts that were (usually) covered during their long summer at the beach, and traces the grooves of stretchmarks in her stomach and thighs, and she’s sure that he’s tracing her, her lines that wind like rivers, her body of water.

She remembers being pregnant with Percy. Back to the cottage, the shoreline in the fog, her hands in the kitchen sink. Oh, she would wade into the shallow water and ache for Poseidon. Her clothes discarded on the sand, Sally would hold her buoyant belly and understand what it felt like to be bigger than the skin that held her. Was that how he felt, when he was there? The size and shape of a man, but so much more? And less? Contained in one form, and then—she would stroke the place where Percy kicked—another.

She remembers before she got pregnant. How do I feel? she asked, and he told her, weak in all his strength, Wet.

Fire and water don’t go together, and that seems cruel, because she’s always sitting in the rain when she misses him most. Matches often won’t stay lit long enough for her to touch them to an offering. Tic Tacs from her purse stick together in her palm as their coating dissolves. A partially eaten granola bar Percy left in her coat pocket goes soggy as its silvery wrapper fizzles away from the weak flame. Cruelest, the toast she burnt by accident in the toaster refuses to catch as she dances fire along the crust on purpose. Some days, it’s more than she feels able to bear.

When she wants to, Sally can dive deep. Down there, it feels like she’s holding her breath longer than most people—most humans—can. It could just be her imagination. She’s not a god.

Water, for her, will never wash things away. It’s a tide, seemingly made up of equal comings and goings at first, but drawing everything in eventually. Her floating is an uninsurable chronic condition. Sally isn’t complaining, she just has to wonder sometimes. About fate. About the urge she has to cup her hands at the mouth of a downspout and splash her face with the draining water. To make him touch her as he passes through.

#my writing #Percy Jackson and the Olympians #PJatO #Sally Jackson #Poseidon #Percy Jackson #Sally x Poseidon #Percy Jackson fic #PJO fic

84 notes · View notes

shu-box-puns · 10 months

Text

Shell-Shocked

(Neteyam X Reader)

Part 1 -> Next Chapter

If you prefer to read on Ao3, you can find the fic here!

Summary: Shells appear whenever you’re around Neteyam.

Word Count: 8229

This is a Metkayina Reader and they use they/them pronouns.

A little snack to keep you all entertained until Ao3 is revived :)))))

Y/n was terrifying. And after the horrors of war that Neteyam had witnessed, he did not admit that to himself lightly.

Maybe it was the fact that regardless of what he did or what jokes he cracked, they never seemed to warm to him.

Or perhaps it was the permanent scowl carved into their features. Or their short, authoritative way of speaking. There was no warmth in them, not that he could decipher anyway. They watched blankly from the water, whilst Tsireya explained today’s lesson, eyes scanning the village as their tail idly swayed the waves.

There was just something about them. The quiet but dominating way in which they held themselves. How they commanded all of his attention despite standing behind both Roxto and Tsireya, who Neteyam really should be paying attention to instead.

How their eyes were piercing, picking apart weakness within seconds. So large and breathtaking, but closed off and emotionless. Neteyam couldn’t read them. Their face was a blank slate to him. He couldn’t tell when they were genuinely mad at him or if they were teasing.

Tsireya clapped her hands, smiling wide and Neteyam blinked. His siblings made to follow her into the shallow cove, leaving Neteyam standing on the beach like an idiot. He was quick to fall into step beside Lo’ak, Kiri attempting to reign in Tuk who had already rushed to Roxto’s side.

His brother barely spared him a glance - too infatuated with Tsireya’s warmth as she beconned him over. Which left Neteyam wandering aimlessly into the water, the last of the Metkayina watching him with disinterest.

<”Let us begin.”> They said simply as he approached. They didn’t bother waiting for his response as they turned and waded further into the waves, hollering to an ilu as they went. Neteyam followed, and the lesson progressed with as little talking as was strictly necessary.

And here he was, sweating bullets astride an ilu that was just as agitated as him.

Y/n had barely explained the mechanics of riding the animal before ordering him to clamber on and start practising.

Their grip was firm on him, adjusting his limbs into the correct mount position. Those eyes critical and their ears perked. This close, Neteyam could tell they weren’t much older than him, and yet, he wouldn’t be surprised if they were close to passing their rite. The way they held themselves had his back instinctively straightening, which in turn hindered how he held himself in the saddle.

They would tut quietly to themselves, making Neteyam flush as his hands were swiftly repositioned by those strong fingers. The ilu chirped between Neteyam’s thighs, and Y/n was quick to soothe it with a gentle pat to the side of its head. Neteyam could feel the touch through the bond and shared in the ilu’s resulting calmness.

They stepped back, and Neteyam stubbornly kept his head facing forwards. Absently, they nodded to themselves once, seemingly approving of his positioning.

<”Now, go with the ilu.”> They explained, mimicking the motion with their hands. <”Dive.”>

The word flickered across Neteyam’s mind and in an instant the ilu was doing just that. Plunging forward and down into the icy depths of the cove with little to no warning. Neteyam’s eyes bugged as he stubbornly choked down what little air he could suck in before the crystal blue waves closed over his face. Panic had the ilu kicking up its pace. Racing away at a speed that had Neteyam’s fingers slipping and unwillingly releasing the harness.

He was swept off his mount’s back in a current of bubbles, his kuru yanking free.

Neteyam came up spluttering, his braids obscuring his view. He struggled to swipe them away, ears flapping in distress as he realised the ilu had left him in a spot where he couldn’t reach the floor. His head kept dipping jerkily beneath the waves in his panic, water rushing up his nose and blurring his vision.

Unexpectedly, a strong hand wrapped around his bicep, unrelenting as he was lifted through the water and held above it. Neteyam sucked in a much needed breath. He turned in place, peering through his obscured view to find Y/n nodding silently to themselves as they effortlessly tread water. Grip still firm, they swam back towards the shelf of rock they’d been standing on with a few powerful swipes of their wide tail.

<”That was better than yesterday.”> Y/n told him as they dragged him up onto the rock behind them. Neteyam scrambled to find his feet, sensing a ‘but’ on the horizon. <”You held on longer than Lo’ak. As expected from-”>

Whatever else they were going to say died on their lips as Neteyam’s ilu sidled back up to their side. For the first time that morning, Neteyam watched genuine surprise melt away the mask of neutral indifference.

The ilu seemed to grin back at them, chirping merrily and presenting the motionless na’vi with a gorgeous, bright pink shell. Y/n’s hands visibly shook as they took it from the animal, who squeaked proudly. They seemed to get lost in inspecting the pretty shell, turning it over and over, examining it with a flush. Their nose was scrunched as if it smelled awful, but all Neteyam could smell was the salt of the sea accompanied by the bitter undertones of seaweed. Nothing that would warrant such a look of disgust.

Curiosity got the better of him as he carefully stepped closer, ears pricked in interest at the small gift. Y/n visibly jumped as his shadow fell over the shell, hands snatching it back and their eyes wide as if caught doing something they weren’t supposed to.

His eyes found theirs and stayed.

They blinked.

And the spell was broken.

The na’vi looked back down at the pink surface of the shell, their expression pinched. Then their face hardened, and with a sigh, they dropped the shell into the water off the edge of the ledge. Neteyam couldn’t help but watch it go, eyes transfixed by the beautiful dips and weaves of the thing as it slipped out of sight. Dragged down by its own weight.

<”You sit too tall in the saddle,”> the metkayina snapped unexpectedly, dragging Neteyam back to the task at hand and rekindling his unease from before. <”It creates too much resistance. You need to lean closer to your ilu’s back.”> He was nodding along again, watching dumbly as they called to his ilu and coaxed it into staying put whilst he climbed on. Before he knows it, he’s being guided back into the correct sitting position and being ordered to dive.

This time he manages to hold on a little longer.

>_<

The shells were everywhere.

Wherever the oldest Sully boy was, the blasted shells were too. And they were PINK of all colours. And only getting brighter. Always around Neteyam, and only around Neteyam. There was no doubt in your mind who Eywa was nudging you towards.

Since that first riding lesson, more and more of the pretty little things had been washing up around you. They got caught in your hair whilst you helped teach breathing lessons with the Sully children. When fishing, the shells got caught in your nets, tearing through the fine fibres.

It was infuriating, but you kept every single one.

Even that first, baby pink shell, which you had gone back to the cove for after handing Neteyam off to Tsireya for the breathing portion of the lesson. It had taken countless dives and plenty of rooting around in the pebbly bottom of the training grounds, but eventually you found it and snatched it up.

It had been the first of many shells to find a home on the topmost shelf of your pod. Tucked out of sight, but not forgotten. A dirty little secret that pulled at the edges of your mind and distracted you from your tasks.

>_<

After those first few riding lessons, you began to see the oldest Sully more and more often. Neteyam was constantly asking for extra tips, never quite meeting your eye as he explained that he feared he was falling behind his siblings and needed to improve.

Initially, you wanted to turn him down. It was annoying to be constantly pulled away from your duties, especially since your participation in the lessons only happened because Aonung was being a child, and Tsireya needed both you and Roxto to help babysit so none of the Sullys accidentally drowned themselves.

However, with Aonung constantly disappearing to get out of teaching them, Tsireya openly flirting with the younger brother and Roxto being preoccupied with Kiri, you found that you had no choice other than to help Neteyam. If you didn’t and it wasn’t evident he was improving, you feared what Ronal would say.

Useless students reflected poorly on their teachers after all.

In the beginning, it was simply a couple hours spent teaching him how to properly breathe. Time spent on the rocky outcrops overlooking the reef, soaking up the afternoon sun and breathing in time with the waves. Neteyam would sit a little way away, eyes clenched shut as he focused on his heartbeat, trying to relax. You found that if you brought something else to do, like mending, he would relax much easier without your gaze on him.

Then the breathing became extra ilu riding classes.

And at some point, it turned into just hanging out for the hell of it.

You would spend your mornings carrying out your usual duties, before helping Tsireya with the Sully children’s lessons after the sun crawled past noon. Then during your free time, like clockwork, Neteyam would turn up sprouting some lame excuse about practice.

You began looking forward to your daily time spent together. You found yourself excited to hear his stories about the forest, in exploring the islands and messing around in the waves together. A warmth filled you whenever you found a pink shell now. And you privately agreed with Eywa that her choice for you had been accurate.

Neteyam was in all sense of the word, perfect. Easy to be around and fast to learn. Driven by his need to prove himself, whilst not allowing his own goals to consume him. Your time spent with him was pleasant, and in many ways, you never ran out of things to discuss or complain about.

You loved Aonung and Tsireya, they were like your siblings, but you were very different people. Tsireya was warm to strangers where you were cold and wary. Aonung believed himself to be too young to take his future position in the clan seriously. And then there was you, constantly keeping him in line and struggling to find your place with your iknimaya fast approaching.

Neteyam was your escape. And a lot of the time, you privately believed you were his too.

Even from a distance, you could see the heaviness of the responsibility his father placed on his shoulders. And although Neteyam carried it with his chin high and his shoulders back, you could tell he was weary. Alongside learning an entirely fresh skill set, he was tasked with looking after his siblings. The hours you spent beyond the village together, was the only time you saw him truly relax.

Before you knew it, he had mastered the ilu and you began teaching him how to dive. How to work the currents of the cove and remain underwater for longer periods of time.

With the sun as your witness, the pair of you spent countless afternoons exploring the colourful reefs all around the island. You watched with a private smile as he stared in awe at the countless fish, his useless tail working furiously to move but getting him nowhere. More often than not, you’d find yourself grabbing his hand to move him along faster. And he’d hold on tight, grinning brightly as your powerful tail cut through the water and made you reach speeds he could not achieve on his own.

His breathing still needed work, but you found you didn’t hate the frequent breaks between dives. Especially when he’d take the time to pull pink shells from your hair, commenting on how they seemed to love you considering how frequently he found them on your person. You would simply roll your eyes at the comment, playfully trying to snatch it from him, only for Neteyam to grin mischievously and hold it out of your reach.

You thought the unspoken spark between you had bloomed into an understanding. Perhaps even a connection.

And as such, you took it upon yourself to honour Eywa’s suggestion.

You began working hard on your courting gift.

It took countless moons. Several sessions with Ronal to renew your weaving skills and enduring her knowing looks. And a few nights of you stuffing the gift into your hammock and shoving Neteyam back out of your pod when he unexpectedly invited himself in.

He’d laugh at your antics, perhaps tease you if he was in the right mood, before inviting you out for a night time swim. Considering how gorgeous your island home was at eclipse, you could never deny him.

Finally, your courting gift was almost complete.

You grinned as you examined your knot work. It had taken you several days of sorting through the pink shells Eywa had gifted you and weaving them into the neck piece how you wanted, but it looked alright. You had hand woven the cord, ensuring it was strong enough to withstand the might of the sea. Had hand picked the shells from your shelf, selecting them for their appearance in the sunlight as well as their bioluminescent glow.

Leaning back in your hammock, you slid a critical eye along the piece. Frowning at the tight knots and the uneven gaps between the shells which gave them a little too much room to slide around. It looked shabby, maybe a little pathetic.

Absently, you considered stopping by Tsireya’s marui to ask for her help in improving the stitches, but then thought better of it. Around this time, the Olo’eyktan’s family would be sitting down to dinner, and although Tsireya’s skill would greatly improve the gift, you wanted it to be firmly your own work. If you were going to do this, it was gonna be because you earned it, not because you took the easy way out.

You would give it to him like this. You decided, slipping out of your hammock. It just meant the next stage - after you passed your iknimaya - needed to be impeccable.

Nodding to yourself, you held the necklace carefully at your side so as not to draw attention to it whilst you walked the short distance from your pod to the Sully residence. Judging by the position of the sun the family wouldn’t be eating for another hour, so there was plenty of time to grab Neteyam and drag him off to somewhere more private.

With Eywa as your witness, you soundlessly approached the Sully pod, your ears pricked in order to figure out how many witnesses you were about to have. The walkway creaked softly underfoot as you paused just short of the entrance, your hand raised to knock on the wooden support when Lo’ak’s voice distracted you.

<”Come on bro!”> The younger brother begged, and your hand froze where it hovered.

<”No!”> Neteyam immediately hissed, sounding exhausted once again. Your frowned, mind already decided on where you’d take him to work off that restless energy. He had seemed alright during training this morning, but perhaps it had been a trying day keeping Lo’ak in line; again.

Curiously, you poked your eye around the doorframe to find Lo’ak hanging off of Neteyam’s arm like he was four years old, whilst Neteyam stood there, expression deadpanned as if this was a common occurrence. The older boy’s tail was swaying, expression unamused as Kiri fumbled around in the background.

<"I already met with them this afternoon. They will think I’m being clinging if I go back before dinner."> Neteyam reasoned, pushing firmly at Lo’ak’s forehead to dislodge him.

Lo’ak playfully snapped his teeth the motion but wasn’t deterred. Not even by Neteyam wiggling free and turning his back to unroll his hammock.

The younger boy watched, tail flicking mischeviously as he geared up. <”But it’ll only be for a couple hours.”> He argued, giving up on tugging on Neteyam’s arm to instead standing in the way of where Neteyam wanted to hang up his hammock. The older boy huffed again, leaning around him to fasten the sheet onto the low hanging hook. <"I wanted to take Tsireya out after the eclipse tonight.">

Neteyam didn’t look up from his task as he replied reflexively, <”you took her out yesterday.”> <”I know, but I promised to show her a spot I found further inland.”>

<”I want to sleep Lo’ak, it’s been a long day.”> Neteyam groaned, still focused on the task at hand as he began unrolling the rest of the hammock to hook the bottom onto the central support beam. His tail was still thrashing, a motion only made more sharp by the sound of shells clattered out of the rolled up fabric. He froze in place and you felt your heart pound at the dozens of pink shells that tumbled out across the floor.

Neteyam cursed in the Sky Person language. Hissing something about his younger sister, to which Kiri giggled but didn’t bother to help.

Completely ignoring the mess, Lo’ak was still talking.

<”Come on bro! I know they scare you shitless, but I NEED this.”> Lo’ak argued, and you felt your brow furrow. <”I'm not going to get anywhere with Tsireya if her guard dog is glaring at me the whole time.”>

Neteyam bristled, gaze narrowing as your heart sank. It didn’t take a genius to know who Lo’ak was referring to.

<”You sound pathetic Lo’ak.”> Kiri interjected from across the fire.

<”Shut up, no one asked you.”> Lo’ak fired back on reflex, before returning his attention to his brother. <”Come on Neteyam, just once more. We’re so close to being friends, I can feel it. Then I won’t have to worry about them chasing me off for breathing wrong.”>

<”Coward.”> Kiri interjected again. <”Don’t you think Neteyam has other shit to do than distract Y/n?”>

Neteyam’s head snapped towards his sister at that. <”I am not distracting them-”> <”Alright.”> She acknowledged, then turned back to Lo’ak. <”Aren’t you ashamed of sacrificing your only brother so you can get some local tail?”>

<”Kiri!”> Neteyam reprimanded at the same time Lo’ak confidently said,<”Nope.”>

The pod briefly lapsed into silence as Neteyam finished fixing his hammock and purposefully brushing the pink shells onto the floor. Your stomach dropped painfully with every sharp thump of them striking the woven floor, chest tightening painfully as Neteyam’s foot crushed one as he shifted his weight.

<”I will see what I can do.”> The boy said quietly.

Lo’ak promptly cheered and you felt bile rise up the back of your throat.

With an audible swallow you stepped away from the pod entrance, the necklace at your side now hanging limply like a severed limb. Your feet kept backing up, your ears falling lower and lower as realisation hit you like a fallen tree to the head.

You almost laughed at your own stupidity.

At the classic mistake of getting swept up in your own head and being blind to what was truly in front of you. Of getting so excited about making a friend, of FINALLY getting signs of Eywa, that you stopped seeing. Stopped thinking.

Obviously, Neteyam wasn’t seeking you out because he enjoyed your company. It was a favour for Lo’ak.

Neteyam didn’t care for you. Until a couple weeks ago, he couldn’t even look you in the eye. He’d been clearly uncomfortable in your presence, and your idiot self had interpreted that discomfort for bashfulness. The shells had tinted your eyes pink as well as swaying your heart.

And better yet, he was scared of you. Friends were not scared of their friends. And soulmates certainly didn’t fear one another.

Your tail had stopped swaying, falling still as your eyes stung.

Stupid.

So incredibly stupid and naive.

You were a year away from passing your iknimaya and here you were, looming outside of someone’s hut, the personification of your heart in your hands, and listening to the subject of your affection practically confess that he only spent time with you to get you out of the picture. As a favour to his brother no less!

You expected this kind of naivety from a village kid half your age.

The sadness and shock rapidly morphed into a hot slice of anger. Your limp fingers clenched into a fist, eyes hardening as your gaze snapped to the necklace at your side.

You were a fool.

The kind of lovesick fool who put countless hours into a shitty gift that would never be worn. What a pathetic waste of resources.

That irrational anger took hold again. Your tail thrashing uncontrollably as your gaze slipped from the pathetic courting gift to the open ocean.

Internally, you cursed Eywa for making a fool of you. For pretending to give you someone, only to cruelly remind you why she thought it best that you remain alone.

It was easy to draw back your arm, but harder to let go as your fist swung forward intending to hurl the stupid thing into the water. Your fist didn’t let go. You tried again. This time, you made yourself recall the words Lo’ak had spoken. Neteyam’s quiet confirmation. His heavy sigh. The tired slope of his shoulders as he resigned himself to another exhausting night in your presence. The crunch of that blasted shell beneath his foot, the crack of which had echoed as if it were your own heart getting shattered. You ensured your rage was burning bright as you hurled the ridiculous necklace into the ocean with all you had.

It hit the water with a soft plop, floated there for a moment, before the ocean welcomed your discarded gift and dragged it down and out of sight.

You did not feel better.

<”Shit.”> Someone gasped at your back. You turned, expression thunderous.

Lo’ak was retreating back into the pod, eyes glued to your own as if your presence alone terrified him. You simply watched him retreat, eyes cold and your tail thrashing.

He turned slowly. <”Neteyam. Your friend is here to pick you up.”> He yelled over his shoulder, gaze refusing to break.

You scoffed. If you saw that scheming coward, you didn’t know what you’d do. Maybe you’d punch him, or you’d break down and start crying.

Regardless, you didn’t want to find out. Turning sharply on your heel, you stormed back the way you’d come. The rhythmic bounce of the walkway greatly decreased the heavy fall of your feet, but the firm set of your shoulders didn’t make the stride feel too comical.

Clearly, your tense shoulders and the clench of your fists was not clear enough an indicator of your current mood, because Neteyam jogged up to you like nothing was wrong. He fell easily into step beside you, and you hated how used to his presence you had gotten. How right it felt for his taller frame to appear at your side and remain there.

<”-didn’t realise we made plans-”> He rambled, although you gave no indication that you were listening. Your eyes flickered to the edge of the walkway, mentally judging how far you could jump compared to him to put distance between you that way. The minute you hit the water, you’d have the advantage. But he could leap further than you, and you’d witnessed his jumping ONTO Lo’ak once when the younger boy tried to escape him that way.

<”Hey? Are you listening to me?”>

His hand gently tapped your shoulder and you instinctively shoved him away from you, mentally hating how badly you craved that touch.

Neteyam froze, eyes wide at the out of character reaction. You’d NEVER shoved him before, and doing so now made your stomach recoil uncomfortably. But he had backed off now. Looking shocked with his stupidly cute face, and his stupid swaying braids and his stupid little shocked expression. His stupid glowing freckles that you spent one night tracing with your finger, locating all the hidden constellations and remarking on how pretty they were.

It took every ounce of control you possessed to smooth out your expression. To stop baring your teeth and simple tell him straight up.

<”No.”>

He blinked. Taken aback by the hostile tone. <”What happened?”>

You laughed, the sound strangled and humourless, then kept walking. Your pace picked up, shoulder bunching around your shoulders.

<”Y/n?”> Neteyam called to your back. His hand reached for you again, long fingers winding around your bicep in an attempt to turn you to face him. <”Are you okay-”>

The minute that warm touch made contact, you spun, ripping yourself from his grip with speed that was startling. <”Do not touch me!”> You growled threateningly.

His concerned expression floundered, eyes widening comically as if he were staring down a pissed off akula. It practically confirmed all your accusations. You could see the fear in the slight shake of his palm, in his uncertainty at how to continue.

This time, you were not blind to the evidence displayed so clearly at your feet.

With control that came from your training, you fought to smooth out your posture as you forced yourself to relax. <”I am going for a swim.”> You said evenly, forcing your shoulders to loosen. <”Tell Lo’ak he has until sunrise to flirt his little heart out.”> <”Lo’ak? Why are you pissed at Lo’ak?”> The fear melted into confusion.

<”We’re done here.”> You replied with, <”go to Roxto for lessons. I’m done dealing with you.”> His ears fell at that. The confusion morphing into raw hurt. His mouth opened to retaliate, but no words came out. You watched him shrink before his eyes. You saw his bravado melt away into the shell of some shy kid that couldn’t get their tongue to cooperate. You almost pitied him.

This time when you tried to leave, he did not stop you.

>_<

Keeping your distance from Neteyam was harder than you anticipated.

If you weren't making a conscious effort to try, you'd find yourself instinctively gravitating towards him regardless. Only to be reminded of why exactly you were avoiding him. It was hard to remember, but you managed.

The only time you couldn’t outright escape him was during lessons. Of course by now Aonung had been roped into helping out, but Tsireya still needed your support. You were the oldest of the friend group and therefore more experienced in finding the flaws in someone’s form and how best to correct it.

That morning after the fight, you had attempted to remain in your pod, but she had come looking for you like she always did when you tried to retreat into yourself. She had let herself into your home only to find you curled up in your hammock, arms wound around yourself and your eyes staring into nothing.

She had called your name. Gently touched your shoulder. Startled, you swung your gaze up to her, expecting to find Neteyam asking for another one on one lesson, only for your heart to sink at her kind smile instead.

<”It’s time to get up.”> She said cheerfully, politely not mentioning your puffy eyes or the lack of pink shells littered around your home. After stumbling home the night before, you’d scooped up every morsel of physical evidence you could find and promptly dumped them into the sea, where the current whisked them out of view.

<”I want to sleep in today.”> You told her bluntly, ready to nestle back down and forget about the world for a bit.

<”And I would love to let you.”> She soothed, <”but Aonung and Lo’ak are at each other’s throats again and I can’t figure out how to get Tuk to breath correctly.”>

<”And you left Roxto in charge?”>

<”I left Roxto in charge.”> She confirmed.

That got you rolling out of your hammock. <”They are gonna eat the poor boy for breakfast.”>

She prepared a snack whilst you changed, made sure your hair was where it should be as you ate, and then dragged you out into the sunlight where the clan was pausing for lunch. You were pleasantly surprised to find your various tasks already completed as she dragged you across the village to the training grounds.

<”Aonung and I figured you’d needed a break.”> Tsireya explained kindly when she caught you staring at the buckets full of fish you were supposed to have collected yourself at dawn. <”You’ve been training so hard for you iknimaya and helping me with the Sullys, we thought you deserved it.”> You could only nod, silently assuming it had been Tsireya’s idea and she’d blackmailed Aonung into helping out so Ronal didn’t skin you for slacking. Although they would have had no way of knowing what had happened last night, you were warmed by the kind gesture.

Surprisingly, nothing was on fire as you approached the training grounds. Kiri and Neteyam were already practising diligently, whilst Roxto attempted to diffuse a yelling match between Aonung and Lo’ak. Little Tuk was still sitting on the beach, looking adorable as she studied some green shells.

<”You help Tuk. I’ll get Aonung.”> Tsireya said over her shoulder before dropping your arm and charging into the water to wrangle her brother.

Dumbly, you stood on the shore, feeling raw and useless in the face of the ease of the group. Your arms hung loosely at your sides as your eyes tracked the movements of the ilus beneath the waves. Kiri was in her element astride the beast, whilst Neteyam was doing visibly better than when he came to the reef.

It took great effort to turn away and focus on the task at hand, but you managed.

Keeping your footsteps light, you carefully approached Tuktirey. She glanced up as your shadow fell over her. Her ears pricked, as large eyes following the length of your body up until her gaze met yourself. <”Hello!”> She greeted enthusiastically and you forced a smile.

You greeted her in turn, dropping into a crouch before her. <”Tsireya tells me you’re having some trouble staying under the water?”> Her little brows furrowed. <”No.”> <”No?”> You parroted.

<”I’m the best.”> Tuk returned confidently. <”Roxto said I’m a better swimmer than Aonung.”>

You had to bite back a smile at Roxto’s cleverness. <”I believe you. Aonung looks like a dead ilu with how slowly he moves beneath the waves.”>

Speaking of, Aonung and Lo’ak were still going at it, with Tsireya looking comically tiny between them, a hand on either boy’s chest to keep them from flying at one another. Roxto stood off to the side, hands on his hips and his expression annoyed as he watched the pair bicker. It was clear they were having no success in diffusing the situation.

<”AONUNG!”>

Your voice rang out across the bay, sharp and as authoritative as you could muster. The boy abruptly froze, his shoulders hiked up to his ears. Slowly, he turned to make eye contact, already wincing. You let your irritation shine through, tail thrashing unhappily. He shot Lo’ak one last venomous glare before grabbing Roxto’s forearm and dragging him into the waves.

Tsireya was quick to place a delicate hand on Lo’ak’s shoulder, her face kind as he glanced to her. You watched the tension bleed out of him, how his ears pricked as she spoke. How he seemed to relax under her gaze, the way he reached for her in turn, tail wagging.

Your stomach tightened at the sight of them. How in tune they were. If anyone should be seeing pink shells, you knew it had to be them.

<”What’s wrong with your face?”> Tuk asked innocently, with brutal honesty.

<”There is nothing wrong with my face.”> You replied quickly, tearing your gaze from Tsireya beginning to lead Lo’ak into the surf, their bright expressions mirroring one another. <”But your eyes are all puffy.”> Tuk pointed out, <”and you look really said.”> <”I’m not sad.”> You reassured her, forcing a tight smile onto your lips.

Tuk was clearly not convinced as she continued to share her seven year old wisdom. <”When I’m sad, Neteyam always gives me hugs.”> <”That’s very nice of him.”> You told her, before struggling to steer the conversation away from her brother. <”Why don’t we go find some more pretty shells in the water?”> <”Will that help you feel better?”> Tuk asked, and when you nodded, her expression brightened. <”Okay!”> She chirped, launching herself to her feet before dragging you into the water.

>_<

<”Why are you still sulking?”> Aonung asked from your pod doorway, later that evening.

<”‘m not sulking.”>

He didn’t dignify the lame utterance with a response. Judgmentally, he ducked into the pod, eyes raking over your messy living space and the pot bubbling away at your elbow.

Ignoring his blatant curiosity, you focused on preparing some rainbow clams you’d foraged earlier for the pot. They would pair nicely with some fruit that Tsireya had dropped off yesterday.

<”You’re retreating from us. Why?”> Head bent over your work, you continued to wedge your knife between the stubborn shells of the clam.

<”’m not.”>

And you’d made a conscious effort not to. Especially not from Aonung and Tsireya, not when you’d known them since childhood. It was simply because whenever you had a spare moment with them, Neteyam would show up like clockwork.

You hadn’t really noticed before how present Neteyam had become in your daily life. How he had a tendency to wander up to whoever you were talking with. You hadn’t realised how often he spoke with Tsireya and Roxto either. Or how much you’d begun to share chores until you’d turned to ask for his help in untangling the nets, only to remember you’d purposefully started working in a part of the village you didn’t normally frequent so he couldn’t find you.

It was childish really. But surely Aonung hadn’t noticed a change in your behaviour so quickly.

The boy in question hummed thoughtfully. He approached on quiet feet, padding across your mats to sit down heavily across from you. In silence, he watched you work through a couple more clams before deciding enough was enough.

With surprising gentleness for a boy like Aonung, the younger na’vi reached across the space between you and stilled your knife hand. The confidence in the motion surprised you enough that you glanced up at him.

His ears were lying low, head tilted with an expression on his face that practically mirrored Tonowari. The warmth in his eyes practically melted away your defences.

<”What happened?”>

He asked simply. Level and kind. It made you want to hide.

The fact he was looking at you with undivided attention made you squirm. You were so used to shying away from such gentle concern, to taking on the brunt of any situation and shoving forward regardless, that the sudden attentiveness made you uncomfortable. In truth, you wanted to admit what had been bothering you. But a tiny nugget of your soul didn’t want to express vulnerability to someone who looked up to you.

At a younger age, Aonung had proudly declared you an older sibling. He hadn’t been shy in referring to you as such, in following your lead. And in turn, you’d been more than happy to look out for both him and Tsireya. This was not something for him to shoulder however.

Slowly, you slipped your knife hand out of his grasp and returned to prying open the clam shells. <”Nothing happened.”> You said with more certainty than you felt.

<”If it was nothing, then you wouldn’t be hiding instead of mucking around in the shallows with the Sully boy.”> Aonung pointed out.

<”Shouldn’t you be out training with Tonowari?”> <”Shouldn’t you stop deflecting now that you’ve been caught?”> <”Becoming Olo’eyktan requires training.”>

<”Lying requires being believable.”> <”Asshole.”> You offered half heartedly, not that Aonung took it to heart. Instead, he kept that same knowing look, that same gentle tone. <”Dad sent me to come check on you.”> Aonung admitted. <”He’s noticed you’ve been distracted today. He was worried.”>

Great. Just great. At this rate, the entire clan would know your business before the week was up. Eywa, you could already see the sympathetic looks they’d throw you.

A heartbeat of silence in which you picked up a fresh clam after depositing the last into the cooking pot. Aonung let the words hang between you for a heartbeat before pushing more firmly.

<”So, I ask again. Has Neteyam done something?”>

You took a deep, irritated breath. Aonung made a point of making himself comfortable, pulling out his own knife to help deshell the rest of the clams. It was clear he wouldn’t leave without a response. Not unless you physically removed him or his parents came to find him.

Shame heated your cheeks as you dropped your gaze. You could already hear the teasing remarks Aonung would throw at you when you admitted what had happened. Could already see the disgust flickering in his eyes. The curl of his upper lip.

Better to get it out of the way quickly.

<”I made him a courting gift.”>

The words slipped from your lips, taking with it an indescribably weight. You immediately felt lighter, the hunch of your shoulders not so tight.

Aonung seemed to wind up like a spring in comparison.

<”YOU, WHAT?”> He squeaked, practically yelled in your face. <”Yo-you made him a courting gift?”> Hesitantly, you nodded. <”And you didn’t tell me?! Did you tell Tsireya?”> <”No?”>

He relaxed. <”You ballsy akula.”> He laughed good naturedly, giving you a playful shove. <”Why didn’t you say anything? Tsireya could’ve helped you with the weaving, we both know you’re terrible.”>

Snapping your fangs at him jokingly, you tried to hide your relieved smile. <”Focus, Aonung.”>

He shook his head, forcefully wiping the expression of glee off his features. <”Apologies. So why the long face? The hiding? Were you keeping it a secret?”>

<”I didn’t end up giving it to him.”> <”Oh.”> He breathed, discreetly glancing around your pod. You knew he couldn’t find a hint of pink on any shelf or stuffed beneath any hammocks. <”Was it not the right time?”> The tension from before swept in faster than the change of the current. <”I never got the chance to present it to him. Turns out, we’re not even friends. He’s only keeping me occupied so Lo’ak can spend more time with Tsireya.”> You told Aonung simply, unable to meet his eye. <”He’s afraid of me.”>

That finally stunned him into a long, painful silence. His hands completely stilled on the clam, tail falling inanimate.

<“He said that?”> A whisper. Barely a question. <”I overheard him and Lo’ak arguing over it.”>

With a slow, practised motion, Aonung slid his knife back into its sheath. <”And the gift? Where is it?”> <“Tossed it in the sea. I was too embarrassed to take the time to disassemble it.”>

He hummed, sounding distracted, before rising to his feet. Gently, he patted your head, pulling you out of your thoughts. <”I’ll be back.”> He promised before motioning to the cooking pot. <”Leave me a few, would you?”> <”Where are you going?”>

<”I said I’ll be back.”> He replied simply, and crossed the pod to the entry before wordlessly ducking outside into the evening.

Perplexed, you stared after him, mind churning from his silence and sudden departure. Then you recalled the last time a pissed off Aonung had been unleashed on the village. The last victims had been a group of boys who had thought it a good idea to pick on Tsireya, and they’d promptly lost their front teeth and still spoke with whistles.

Groaning softly, you jammed your knife back into its sheath and went after him.

>_<

<”Oi! Forest boy!”> Aonung yelled from behind Neteyam, scaring the boy out of his head. Before he could pull his feet from the water, the walkway at his back drooped under the weight of the other boy and there was a hand on his shoulder, spinning him round. A fist connected with his cheek before he could get out a response.

The force of the blow startled a gasp out of him as he bit his tongue and was thrown clean off the walkway and into the soft glowing water. The sounds of the village were abruptly muffled as Neteyam struggled to orient himself. Then he was kicking for the surface, rage bubbling low in his stomach.

He broke the surface with a greedy inhale, eyes zeroing in on the glowering boy looming above him. Spitting out a mouthful of salty water, Neteyam shook his head to clear the braids from his eyes.

<“What the hell Aonung?”>

A mocking smirk slid onto the younger boy’s face, head tilting dangerously. <”That’s for messing with Y/n, you spineless coward!”> He snarled venomously. Hand falling onto the hilt of his knife at his hip, Neteyam’s eyes followed the motion.

He wasn’t afraid of Aonung. The boy hadn’t yet passed his iknimaya, but Neteyam was conscious of his position in the village. His relations. Also that he was the superior swimmer if he decided jumping on Neteyam was necessary for whatever justice he was trying to carry out.

<”Do you know why they’re upset?”> Neteyam asked hopefully, trying to steer the conversation in a direction that wouldn’t end up with one of them stabbed. Tuk had mentioned that she wanted him to give them a big hug for her. That the Metkayina had been unusually quiet during training today, that she thought they’d been crying.

Neteyam had been looking all over for them. Tuk’s observation just fueling the uncomfortable tightening of his stomach that something had drastically gone wrong. Between the unexpected rage the night before and their odd avoidant behaviour this morning, Neteyam had a constant sinking feeling.

Aonung scoffed. <”Don’t play dumb. They heard everything.”>

That only served to confuse Neteyam more. What could the had possibly-

Oh.

His stomach sank to the bottom of the cove. Shit. Depending on when they’d walking in on that conversation last night, they were either feeling betrayed or he was in incredibly beep shit.

<”How much did they hear?”> Neteyam demanded, praying this situation could be salvaged.

Somewhere deeper within the village, Neteyam could hear Lo’ak’s distinct voice. Yelling at Aonung to no one’s surprise, calling him fish lips and every other insult he knew. English and na’vi. Aonung huffed, oblivious to the younger sully brother rapidly approaching his back. <”They heard what you and Lo’ak were doing. Trying to keep them occupied so your screwup little brother could get in good with MY sister.”>

Oh shit.

<”Aonung. It’s not what you think. Lo’ak-”>

<”Don’t go near them AGAIN!”> Aonung cut in, gaze piercing. <”Or you’ll be far more scared of me than you’ve ever been of them.”>

Scared? Of Y/n?

<”Okay, this-”>

Whatever situation saving speech he was about to give was abruptly disrupted by his bull-headed brother finally arriving on the scene.

<”LO’AK DON’T-!”> Tsireya warned, but it was too late.

<”YOU’LL PAY FOR THAT FISH LIPS!”> Lo’ak shrieked, promptly tackling Aonung around the small of his back and sending both of them off the walkway and down onto Neteyam.

The trio came up spluttering, with Lo’ak still trying to strangle Aonung, and the boy in question snapping his teeth in a very obvious threat that he would chomp through any fingers that got close enough. Neteyam stared at the pair in bewilderment. Slowly processing what Aonung had admitted, and partly amused by Lo’ak willingness to jump in without warning to defend his pride. Then again, the younger boy could simply have been itching for a reason to give Aonung a black eye.

“Lo’ak, get off him.” “But bro-” “Lo’ak!” Neteyam spat more firmly, struggling to look serious whilst treading water. Reluctantly, he obeyed, scooting back so he couldn’t continue to murder Aonung, but remaining between his brother and the boy.

<”Stop speaking in your demon tongue and explain yourself.”>

<”Explain what the hell that was first!”> Lo’ak retorted stubbornly. <”Why the hell are you putting your filthy hands on my brother?”>

The appearance of Tsireya on the lip of the walkway interrupted Aonung’s response. <”Neteyam, are you okay?”> Dumbly, he nodded, watching the tension in Tsireya’s shoulders melt away before she turned a surprisingly sharp glare on her brother. <”What were you thinking? You could have injured someone.”> <”He deserves it!”> Aonung declared childishly, inviting Lo’ak to lunge at him, only for Neteyam to yank him back by his forearm.

Tsireya looked as confused as Neteyam felt. Her voice dripped in sarcasm when she next spoke. <”And how, were you so grievously wronged this time, brother?”>

Ignoring her mockery, Aonung replied sharply, <”Y/n intended to court this asshole, but Lo’ak was just using him to get to you!”>

Court?

<”Court me?”> Neteyam squawked, eyes blown wide. Oh Eywa. This was rapidly becoming a lot of problems tangled into one enormous knot.

<”Not that you deserve anything they could make you!”> Aonung spat.

A fifth and final creak of the walkway signalled someone else racing up to the shitshow. <”Tsireya, have you seen Aonung? He stormed out of my pod and I’m afraid someone is going to lose their teeth.”>

Tsireya stared wide eyed at her friend, tail stone still. Her gaze was glossy. <”You were going to start courting Neteyam?”> She said dumbly.

From his position in the water, Neteyam couldn’t see Y/n, but judging by the silence that followed, they weren’t overly pleased.

It was Tsireya who continued speaking, her voice abruptly kicking up in volume as she practically shrieked, <”YOU’VE BEEN RECEIVING SIGNS FROM EYWA AND DIDN’T TELL ME?”>

<”Hey!”> Y/n immediately retorted, <”you’ve been sneaking off with Lo’ak for Eywa knows how long, so don’t you dare start barrating me about keeping secrets. I had to find out by accident! Do you know how humiliating that is?”>

<”That’s besides the point.”>

<”It is perfectly on point. I bet you’ve been finding pink shells everywhere too!”>

The silence that followed spoke volumes.

Aonung was the one to break it. <”Wait! You’ve both accidentally found your mates and NEGLECTED to mention it?”> The boy demanded, looking royally pissed off as he glared at Neteyam and Lo’ak with equal venom. Neteyam wanted to punch him. <”I can’t believe either of you!”>

Y/n’s head popped over the lip of the walkway, their gaze narrowed dangerously. That expression twisted tighter and tighter as they noticed Neteyam and Lo’ak dripping wet as they treaded water alongside Aonung.

<”THIS is what you ran off to do?”> They demanded, making Aonung dip lower into the water in a fruitless attempt to hide. <”Instigating a water fight instead of helping me finish dinner?”>

<”I was defending your honour.”> Aonung tried to argue.

They rolled their eyes. <”Of course that’s what this is.”>

<”Will you please explain what the hell just happened?”> Lo’ak pipped up. <”Shells, and mates and Aonung losing his shit. What the hell?”>

<”I’ll explain later Lo’ak.”> Tsireya replied calmly, although Neteyam saw the nervous thrash of her tail. <”But first, you need to get out of the water or you’ll catch cold.”> She knelt over the edge of the walkway and offered her hand to Lo’ak, who didn’t hesitate to take it.

<”Aonung.”> The boy glanced up guiltily at Y/n still stood behind Tsireya. <”If you injured anyone, take them to Ronal.”>

Aonung shook his head firmly. <”They can suffer.”>

<”Ronal will skin you if she finds out about this later.”> Was all they offered before sharply turning on their heel and storming off, tail whipping to and fro.

Neteyam watched them go feeling all kinds of confused and tired. This was certainly not what he’d been expecting when Tuk said Y/n was upset. He also he’d foreseen a split lip for his troubles either.

Obediently, he swam closer to the walkway when Tsireya bent back down to offer him her hand. Her expression was pinched as he approached, mind clearly far away.

Neteyam couldn’t help but feel the sentiment. He made to reach for Tsireya’s outstretched hand, Aonung’s irritating muttering falling to the back of his mind, only to be distracted by the soft chirp of an ilu. The water shifted at his side as the animal swam past before circling back.

He recognised the markings of the animal to be the ilu he usually used for training. Elegantly, the animal lifted its head from the waves, something glowing caught between its teeth. Hesitantly, Neteyam reached for it, surprised when the playful creature dropped the item into his outstretched hand with no attempts at jerking it away or making him work for it.

Tsireya made a sad little sound at the sight of the object, and Neteyam glanced up at her in surprise. <”What is it?”> He asked, to which Tsireya’s expression turned guilty.

<”A courting gift.”> She explained softly. <”But I do not recognise it as anything the clan owns. Surely, someone would have noticed if they dropped it.”>

Aonung swam up beside Neteyam, his own face pinched as he looked at the unassuming necklace. Eyes raking down the pink shells accenting traditional metkayina knotwork. <”Y/n said they tossed the gift in the sea, instead of dismantling it like we would normally.”>

<”It’s definitely their work.”> Tsireya confirmed.

Part 1 -> Next Chapter

#Neteyam x Reader #part 1 of 3 #shells #bad omens #Metkayina!Reader #attempts at courting #strangers to friends #idiots in love #misunderstandings #Neteyam #neteyam sully #avatar

252 notes · View notes

strawberrymilk-sunshine · 1 year

Text

Sunset

I just thought of something very funny so I wrote it

Guess who's exhausted while writing again? That's right, me!!

Warning(s): mentions of stalking, not sure how good this is but hope you enjoy regardless

You fell off a ship when you were young.

You don't remember much from after the sails set on fire. When you fell into the water, you must have passed out... and when you woke up, you saw... someone.

"Um, human... are you ok...?"

You remember what he looked like. You've held on to that memory, hoping to find him again some day.

And little did you know, he did the same. He wanted to meet with you again, but he just didn't know how he would do it!

And then one day he found something. A very old spell, as old as the legends of the Sea Witch...

A spell that could turn him human.

"Are you sure about this, Azul?" Jade asked as Azul prepared the spell that would turn him human. "This could be very dangerous."

"As cool as the Sea Witch was, her magic was no joke, Octy! Are ya sure you can handle this?"

"I'll be fine. It's all to see them again..." Azul sighed.

"Ah yes, (Y/N)." Jade laughed under his breath.

"You saw them once when you were a kid. Are you sure they're even still alive?" Floyd asked, looking at the spell ingredients.

"Oh, I've been sure to keep a close eye on them all these years." Azul happily said. "They look so beautiful nowadays!"

"Right, forgot you've been stalking them for the better half of twelve years." Floyd rolled his eyes. "Again. They were a human you met because they fell off a boat when you were five, Azul. Are they really worth turning human for? What if they don't like you back?"

"Ahahaha! You really are funny sometimes, Floyd! Don't like me back, I can't even imagine that!! We're meant for each other... I'm sure of it."

"Azul, before you go too far... you do remember the steep price of the Sea Witch's spells, right?" Jade asked.

"Ooh! Yeah, she didn't give any extra chances! One little slip-up and then you were polyp-ified!"

"I know the price. But, since I'm performing the spell on myself, I don't believe I'll have to worry about any consequences!"

"I guess there's no convincing you not to..."

"But if anything happens to you, it's your fault!"

"I know... and I'm ok with that."

But something unexpected happened.

Something clearly went wrong.

The twins rushed their friend up to the surface, and helped him to the shore.

Azul coughed up water, and had planned to say something about how he had no idea the sea could be so unaccommodating to the creatures of the land, but then...

"Hm? What's with that face, Azul?" Jade asked. "Is something wrong?"

"Your throat hurt or somethin'? And why aren't you talking?"

Jade and Floyd stared at Azul for a while. Then they looked at each other, then back at Azul. And in a rare moment of perfect synchronization, yelled out

"WAIT, YOU CAN'T SPEAK ANYMORE?!"

Azul nodded, embarrassed.

"Azul! This is why we were trying to warn you against using this spell!" Jade sternly said, his hand on his forehead.

"First things first: we told you so. Secondly, according to the spell, you've only got three days to get that human you like to give you a kiss of true love! Otherwise, it's back to your mer form and polyp-ification for you!" Floyd yelled. "Well... I guess there's no Sea Witch around to enforce the polyp thing... but still! Unless you want to be stuck on land, suffocate, dry out, and die, then you'd better get that human to fall in love with you, Azul!"

"I'd suggest you pretend that you haven't been stalking them for twelve years." Jade suggested. "It's hard to imagine they'd willingly kiss you if you admitted to that."

"Maybe just pretend you're some normal, mute human!" Floyd suggested. "I mean... it's not really like you can tell 'em otherwise."

"You two stay here, I'll go find some kind of cloth we can fashion into human clothing." Jade said. "Floyd, please make sure Azul doesn't drown himself."

"Hey, no promises, Jade~!"

You were walking along the beach one day, when you saw someone out in the distance.

You ran towards the person, since they were stumbling around like they were injured. You should help them!

"Hey, uh... are you ok?" You asked when he was close enough to hear.

He had beautiful grey hair and blue eyes. He also was wearing the torn up remnants of a ship's sails as an outfit.

"...d-did you hear me?" You asked. "Are you ok?"

He slowly walked towards you, and fell forwards, his head resting on your chest.

"Wha-?! Are you ok?! Sir, are you ok?!" You yelled in a panic.

For a second, you swore you heard a voice from the water say "Take good care of him, please."

But when you looked to the sea, no one was there.

...

Is this guy asleep on your chest?!

"I guess I just... take him home...?"

You didn't know, but your life would become much more interesting with this guy around.

He woke up when you got back to your home.

The servants cleaned him up and prepared clothes that were better than the nearly destroyed cloth he was wearing.

You learned a lot about him. He can't speak, for one, but he was able to write his name down for you. His name was Azul. You don't know who he is, or why he washed up on the shore, the best you could understand was that he was probably in some kind of shipwreck.

He was nice, but... something just felt off about him.

You also heard weird whispers whenever you were out by the sea.

You decided to take him for a tour of the city the next day, you thought he'd enjoy it. And he did! He looked so happy the whole time!

Little did you know, however, the only reason he was so happy was because you, the love of his life, were right there beside him.

Late into the night, you took him for a ride in a rowboat, to a secret place only you know about. And the whole time, you swore you heard two people singing from the water.

And the day after that, Azul tried to kiss you.

You like him and all, but... not like that.

You avoided him the rest of the day after that.

And the day after that...

"Azul, I'm sorry about what happened last night..." You said, knocking on the door to the guest bedroom.

"(Y/N)... don't come in, please..." You heard a voice say from the other side of the door.

"Azul, i-is that you? Are you speaking?!" You asked. "What's going on?!"

"Nothing! Just please get me some water... and don't come in here! Just leave it at the door, ok?"

"Is everything alright in there?" You asked.

"Yes! I'm fine! Just don't come in!"

"I'm coming in, something's definitely wrong." You said, before opening the door.

And then you saw him standing there.

Azul... wasn't human.

"AH! (Y-Y/N)! Please don't look at me..." He said, shielding his face with his arms.

His legs weren't legs, they were tentacles, like an octopus would have... he was a merman.

He looked so familiar.

"...it's you." You said.

"Huh?"

"I remember you!" You yelled. "You saved me! H-how are you here right now?!"

"...you remember me...?" Azul asked, a blue blush on his face. "From... from when you fell off that ship...?"

"Yes! You're the one who saved me, right? You look so familiar..."

"Yes, that was me..." He admitted. "It's... getting hard to breathe... say, could you please hurry and get me water?"

"Oh! Yes of course!"

Azul breathed a sigh of relief when you left the room. So many things are going well this morning! You remember who he is, you know why he looks familiar, you weren't completely repulsed by his true form, and most importantly...

You didn't find out that he basically stalked you for twelve years!

#kiss the girl leech twins cover when???#azul ashengrotto #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #twst #yandere #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #yandere twst x reader #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere x reader #yandere azul x reader #yandere azul ashengrotto #yandere azul ashengrotto x reader #yandere azul #azul x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader

493 notes · View notes

undead-supernova · 1 month

Text

I'll Pay the Price, You Won't.

Island Breeze in the Dead of Night

Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7

Masterlist

plot: you're on vacation and you desperately want to tell Eddie you love him…and how much fear can you swallow before it overflows?

(I’ve always loved the idea of writing about a vacation and here we are! Fulfilling my silly little daydreams.)

Pairings: modernrockstar!Eddie x fem!popstar!Reader (curvy!reader, bisexual!reader)

Warnings: brief discussion about eating/media body shaming, drinking, Eddie saying some spicy words

easter egg count: 14

wc: 4.3k

“How’s it going over there on fuck island?”

You snorted at Este’s words, trying to pick up some speed on the treadmill. Luckily there’d been a gym on the island, a must for the tour you’d be preparing for in the next year. You’d been trying to build stamina, tired of wanting to drop dead while onstage.

Not that there was an album to be toured. You had a few songs, sure. But how the fuck were you supposed to keep writing happy songs? And how were you supposed to do that within the next six months?

Nonetheless, you hated the treadmill. So you called Este.

“It’s not fuck island,” you corrected. “But, to answer your question, it’s going great.”

It’d only been two days, but it had been blissful. You and Eddie spent most of the days together, lounging by the beach or sleeping. Eating whenever you wanted to. Meeting the rest of the band at the end of the night, one person assigned to cook for every day that you were there. Play board games. Make some drinks.

And, yes, a lot of fucking. A lot.

Regardless, it was a very laid-back vacation.

“I’m sure you’re all over each other like sick puppies being like, ‘I love you.’ ‘No, I love you more.’”

You kept quiet.

“You have said I love you, right?” Este asked, her voice slow and deliberate.

“I mean,” you started, trying to think of what to say. “He hasn’t said anything, so I haven’t.”

“You know that someone has to say it first, right? Like, you can just say it and see what he says.”

“I don’t know…”

“You are in love!” she exclaimed. “What else is there to know! If you don’t tell him six months in, then what are you doing?”

There were some things you didn’t like to think about. Especially on vacation in the British Virgin Islands where you spent most of your time sitting in the shade on top of your boyfriend. Why ruin a perfectly good time with talks of those kind of feelings? Why ruin the restoration of your bodies that never seemed to slow down? Why not allow everything to freeze in time for a little bit?

“You’re literally on an island right now,” Este huffed, as if she could read your mind. “How is that not the perfect time to say I love you while snorkeling with dolphins?”

“Under the water?”

“Okay, but what if you end up stepping on a sea urchin and it gets infected and then you die?”

You laughed but had to catch your breath as you sped up again. Beads of sweat dripped down your neck and disappeared into the fabric of your t-shirt. But you could tell some of that sweat was from something else entirely.

“Couldn’t he just pee on it?” you teased.

“Tell him you love him while he pees on your foot."

“Why am I friends with you again?”

“Because you loooove me.”

Before you could respond, there was a knock on the wall. Eddie walked in, startling you. You almost tripped but caught yourself, turning down the speed immediately.

“Hey, how’s it going in here?” he asked.

“Is that him now?” Este teased.

“Uh, hey, Este, I gotta go,” you said quickly.

“Don’t let me stand in the way of true—”

You ended the call before giving him a nervous smile.

Eddie was looking…well, he was looking good. He was in a Metallica tank top (a t-shirt he tore to shreds no doubt), black swim trunks, and, shockingly, black flipflops. His tattoos were littered over his arms and legs, the hint of one on his chest popping out. A wild bun thrown to hold his hair back, sunglasses perched on his head.

“Hey.”

“Hey, sweetheart,” he replied, walking over to give you a soft kiss.

You wanted to jump back, to keep him away from how bad you probably smelled but Eddie didn’t seem to mind. Though, he did pat your back instead of giving you a hug. You couldn’t blame him.

“Wanna get some lunch before we hit the sand?” he asked, holding out his hand.

You nodded, maybe a little enthusiastically, happy to press your palm against his.

“Are you gonna let me shower first?”

“Maybe,” he whispered, leaning into your neck to lick up some of your sweat. “Stinky.”

Despite the small whimper that left your lips at the stimulation, you murmured, “You’re so gross.”

“Didn’t sound like you found it gross,” he teased, already tugging you towards the door.

You rolled your eyes, unable to deny the accusation.

“Shut up.”

Lunch was peaceful, with Eddie ordering you whatever you desired. He told you to enjoy yourself, enjoy your time on the island. He was sweet like that, always encouraging you to eat what you wanted, whenever you wanted. It was something he never shied away from being made known.

“Why do you do that?” you asked him when a second piña colada was placed in front of you.

He gave you a grin, slipping another French fry between his teeth before responding.

“I just like seeing you do what you want to do.” He leaned in further. “And, if I’m being honest, you always do what everyone else wants you to. ‘Oh, do this. Do that. Eat this. Don’t eat that!’ Fuck that. I hate that shit. You're not some clay pot they can mold or whatever. It's ridiculous.”

You couldn’t disagree. “And you think me eating all this food will change that?” you half-joked.

“I think you eating whatever the fuck you want and not worrying about what anyone else thinks is a good start.” He took a sip of his frozen margarita, one with a little umbrella, before adding, “And when you’re with me, sweetheart, you don’t have to compromise a damn thing. I’ll make sure of that.”

His words affected you more than you wanted them to. It wasn’t like he was wrong. Months and months ago, you’d let it slip that you ate extra healthy in public so tabloids couldn’t have “evidence” to slam you for your looks. That the sheer idea of eating bread or pasta was unheard of if anyone could see. (Not to mention having to order dessert to go, in secret in order to throw off the scent of fatphobic headlines.) You never won when it came to the media, even if you were content with how you looked.

By the time you and Eddie left the restaurant, well-fed and slightly tipsy, Eddie had you pinned up against any wall he could, lips attached to yours. Whispers of how pretty you looked, murmurs of things he wanted to do to you later. It left you in a fit of giggles that were quickly swallowed by his mouth.

It was a scene to behold, out in plain sight, but it was addictive. It was exactly what you’d wanted as a teenager who dreamed of true love. A love to call yours without hindrance from the opinions of others.

You would stay forever if this was what the rest of your life looked like. Just the two of you, lovestruck on an island that seemed to leave you alone.

When you set your stuff down at the beach, you couldn’t help but stare at Eddie removing his top. It was something else to see Eddie nearly undressed in public, sprinkled with dappled sunlight. Face risking the promise of sunburn, all rosy-cheeked and red-nosed. The scent of sunscreen wafting off him, sand somehow littering his hair. It was everything.

Under your sundress was that turquoise bikini Eddie had gotten you months before. You’d been wary about wearing it in public for the first time, but he promised you that people weren’t privy to taking photos here. That you were just as safe as you’d been in his pool. That you deserved to feel good.

And when you took the dress off, you could feel Eddie’s eyes raking over you. Because you turned, watching him stare at you through his sunglasses. He did that thing from the movies, pulling them down to the bridge of his nose, brown eyes dilating.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” you chided.

“Mm, I’d rather take a Polaroid,” he said, making grabbing motions with his hands so you’d come closer. His hands found your hips before giving them a light squeeze. “And then, you know, cum all over it later.”

His words had you flustered, looking around as you hoped no one else could hear him. The others on the beach were too far away, but you couldn’t help but feel exposed. Some part of you knew it was because of your swimsuit, but you tried not to let it eat at your brain.

“I’d like that,” you said back, quieter than before. “But you better shut that pretty mouth of yours before I drag you back to our place.”

“Our place?” he questioned, a cheeky grin popping out. You rolled your eyes as his face got closer. “You wanna call it ours?”

Too bashful to respond, you kissed his shoulder before stepping back and walking towards the water. He was right behind you, hands finding purchase on your waist. It was as if he was stuck to you, making sure he followed wherever you strayed.

You couldn’t cope with how much you liked it.

You couldn’t cope with how much you loved him.

“Don’t like my teasing?” he asked as your feet touched the water.

Shaking your head, you took a tentative step forward. It was hard to tell the full truth, no matter how much you’d already shared. For some reason, everything still felt so delicate. Even six months in, it felt like it could all slip from your fingers at any moment. Why call something “ours” when there was no promise that it would be there tomorrow?

And why the hell were you thinking like that right now?

“I like it a little too much,” you admitted despite your reluctancy. Forcing yourself to make eye contact, you added, “The idea of something being ours.”

“Does it now?” he asked. His voice was playful, but you could see that it made him feel soft when he pursed his lips, dimples deepening.

“Mhm,” you responded, feeling a bit more confident.

Eddie kissed your cheek. “I’ll keep that in mind, fair maiden.”

The squeal of a child is what awoke you. Eyes fluttering open, your eyes adjusted to the light behind your sunglasses. And the ache of them sitting on the bridge of your nose had you tearing them off. Which, yeah, was a mistake.

The umbrella seemed larger than before, cocooning you from the rest of the beach. A little paradise in public, all warm and cozy. It wasn’t shocking to find that you’d fallen asleep.

“What time is it?” Eddie asked from under you.

“We fell asleep. Again,” you said with a yawn, sitting up. “I think it’s two? Maybe?”

Eddie was already wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you back on top of him. Nuzzling himself back into you. Keeping you hostage.

“Good thing we napped, ‘cause we’re partying tonight,” he said with a mischievous grin. “It’s Emo Night over at one of the clubs.”

Raising an eyebrow, you looked down at him. “Thought you guys didn’t party anymore, old man.”

Throwing his free hand over his chest, he said, “We’re on vacation and you wound me.” Your shared laughter mixed seamlessly before he planted a kiss on your collarbone. “Come on, what do you say?”

You let out a huff. “I already said yes two minutes ago in my mind.”

Eddie looked up, grinning like a devil before pulling you down to connect your lips.

You really could just stay there forever.

You really, really could.

When you went to get ready for the night, your embarrassment set in as you stared down at your suitcase. You hadn’t brought anything black because you never really wore anything black. But you refused to say anything to Eddie or the others, too nervous you’d sound insecure.

But the thing was that you were insecure. And if you did say something, Eddie would offer his clothes that you couldn’t fit into. So, instead, you sucked it up and made yourself look damn good in what you already had: a tight baby pink tank top and a short white pleated skirt with some wedges. The outfit complemented your curves, hitting your waistline just right. You were a beauty queen to behold, no matter how out of place you’d look tonight.

When he got out of the bath, Eddie was there to shower you in compliments as he ate you out, skyrocketing your confidence like never before. And if you so happened to give him head before having to redo your makeup, well, it was worth it.

The two of you were rushing out the door, trying desperately to make it to the others in time before you had to leave. As you sped walked through the winding streets, you couldn’t help but look over at Eddie. He’d stayed in a black wife-beater and a pair of fitted black shorts. Kept his signature rings and beat-up black Converse. Hair in a low bun, eyes shadowed in sparkly charcoal, and his guitar pick choker. Your pretty boy, your gorgeous boyfriend.

A chorus of greetings sounded the moment Grant opened the door. Everyone was decked in their usual ensembles, only altered slightly to accommodate the weather. Gareth, Jeff, and Grant even complimented you on your outfit, lowering your insecurities just enough to breathe momentarily.

But something you noticed was Ronnie eyeing you. It wasn’t obvious at first, just catching her gaze every now and then. By the sixth time you caught her looking you up and down, you were fully aware. Not to mention extremely confused by the behavior.

And it wasn’t something neutral. No, her eyes seemed to narrow bit by bit as Eddie held onto you. As he laughed with Grant over an inside joke. As he handed you another shot with a kiss.

Giving you this look that bordered on a warning. Like you were doing something wrong. Or, rather, she still expected you to make a mistake. Trip up and prove her right.

All you wanted to ask her was what could prove her wrong. What could you do to possibly give her the impression that you were worthy of Eddie’s affections?

But that was something you still wondered for yourself.

It was a chilling thought that you held the same questions.

After pre-gaming with a round of shots and a shared joint, the six of you headed out to the club. Slightly cross-faded, the journey into the club was a little hazy. Because there were bodies upon bodies, all dressed like your boyfriend and the four others in your group. And you stood out for the most part, noticing glances from strangers.

But there was Eddie, arm snug around your waist as you made your way over to what seemed to be a private area overlooking the rest of the crowd on the dance floor. A shot was put in your hand and before you could think, the six of you were throwing them back like it was nothing. And judging by how drunk you already were, it sure tasted like nothing.

Right after slamming the glasses on the table, “If You Can’t Hang” by Sleeping With Sirens started, causing the crowd to cheer. You were one of them, looking at Eddie with a wide grin as he smiled at you.

“Ready to dance, pretty girl?” he asked.

You giggled. “Oh, I was born ready, pretty boy.”

The entire group moved to the dance floor, dangerously close to the growing pit. But you felt a surge of impulse, winking at Eddie and nodding over at the circle. A grin stretched across his face before you pulled him into the whirlpool. He howled in hysterical laughter as you went round and round, arms locked together as you moved around the pit.

You yelled the lyrics with him, giggling at the way Eddie was straining to sound just like Kellin Quinn. Stomping your aching feet through a circle, stabilized by the people on the outside. Round and round you went, a carousel of sweaty bodies colliding, all blissful in the shared comradery. An adoration for music and human connection.

This was better than any after party you’d been to.

“I met a girl talking away!

She found a boy she knew she’d change!

I changed my hair, my clothes, my face

To watch us go our separate ways!”

What a gorgeous rush it was to be there with him. To be people for once, not just celebrities. It was just you and those around you, all able to enjoy this moment together. You were normal. You were human.

And when Eddie grabbed you and swung you both out of the pit, he kept a grip on you. Kissed your temple before pulling you back towards the others. Swayed and let the people around you move you towards your destination.

“You’re fucking crazy for going in blind!” Jeff screamed as you neared, stabling you when the crowd jostled again. “Fucking crazy.”

You merely laughed, shrugging at him. “What can I say? I’m having a good time.”

“Have you ever been in a pit before?”

You turned at the sound of Ronnie’s voice, your smile starting to falter just a little bit. Just enough for her to catch.

Because no. No, you hadn’t. And you didn’t realize that that mattered to her. Or to anyone for that matter.

“Uh, no,” you responded.

“I think it’s hot,” Eddie said into your ear before looking over your shoulder. “She was great for her first time, right?”

You turned back around to meet his wild eyes, more interested in him than whatever the fuck Ronnie had to say about your behavior. He started singing again, attention now on you and only you.

It was addicting, gesturing with your hands as you screamed with your boyfriend at the top of your lungs. There was a certain form of catharsis that came from moments like these, fueled with the release of every negative emotion once associated with the lyrics. Now they were transformed into joy, a shred of light at the end of whatever tunnel that song had once held you in.

As the final verse kicked in, you pulled Eddie’s mouth to yours. Gasped at the way his fingers dug into your waist. Basked in the love that was overflowing from your heart. Your fingertips. Your eyes. Your mouth. Every piece of you was mesmerized by this moment, this little pocket of perfection that couldn’t be replaced. And, God, you truly believed for a moment that it was going to last forever.

“Would you please stay and come inside, baby?

Would you please stay and please be mine?”

To say that you were drunker than you’d been in months was an understatement.

Shot after shot, one drink after another, you were filling up with a bubbly kind of adrenaline. You rotated in jumping into the pit, all of you ending up there at some point. What was left of a voice in your head kept you out of Ronnie’s way, her cold shoulder always too close for comfort.

But Eddie suggested you get a final round. And who were you to pass up on that offer?

As you and Eddie headed towards the bar, you could hear the faint sound of someone calling both of your names. You didn’t want to turn, didn’t want to give attention to a stranger, but you couldn’t help it. And when you did turn, you saw a woman make direct eye contact with you.

All green eyes and wavy blonde hair, looking like a rock star’s girlfriend. Short denim skirt and even shorter crop top, smiling with mauve lipstick. She was really pretty. And then she looked at you, practically scoffing at your appearance.

“Oh my god, Eddie?” the girl squealed, turning her face into something more innocent. “I’m a huge C-C fan.”

C-C?

And Eddie being cross-faded, all open and smiley, gave her a high five.

“Hell yeah!” he exclaimed, chuckling.

“What the hell are you doing here?” she asked.

“A quick getaway with the band and my pretty girl over here.”

That’s when she finally acknowledged you. “Nice to meet you… You are?”

There was that little cut in your chest. You’d heard her say your name. She knew who you were. And she was making it very clear what your place was.

“Can I get a selfie with you?” she asked Eddie when you didn’t respond.

Here was a stranger. A fucking stranger trying to put you in your place.

Eddie nodded. “Fuck yeah, no problem.”

And Eddie wasn’t even aware. He couldn’t understand.

The girl turned to you, giving you a once over like Ronnie had earlier. “Actually, would you take the picture?”

And it was like a punch in the gut, her tight-lipped smile so different than the one given to your boyfriend. She was playing a game behind Eddie’s back, making her disdain for your presence known.

As you took the photo, some part of you couldn’t help but agree with her. Maybe your presence wasn’t as welcome as you once thought. Maybe you didn’t have a place here. Eddie just might not have seen it yet. Maybe he would soon.

When the girl walked away, bumping your shoulder on her way out, Eddie planted a sloppy kiss to your cheek and wiggled his fingers under yours before tugging slightly.

“C’mere,” he said, voice nearly overshadowed by the music. “Screw the next round. Lemme dance with my gorgeous girl. Hm?” You merely shrugged. “This reminds me of the night we met. Remember?”

That brought a smile back to your face. “How could I forget?”

He grinned, kissing your forehead. “Favorite Beatles song?”

“’Ticket To Ride’.”

“Excellent choice off of Help!”

You rolled your eyes. “Why thank you.”

“Just come here, baby.” How he was able to pull you closer was beyond you. “I’ll keep you safe. I promise.”

You sighed and nodded, letting him turn you around before heading back to the pit for another round of revelry and chaos.

“Did I stand out tonight?” you asked, the last of the alcohol turning you into a secret sharer. “Like, did I embarrass you?”

“What? No, baby. Never. Why would you think that?”

You and Eddie had sobered up by the time you fell into bed. But neither of you were quite tired yet, still buzzing off the energy of the nightlife. You caught each other’s eyes, heads on pillows turned towards one another. Moonlight dripping through the curtains. Eddie there, all porcelain and blue. All beauty and grace.

“’Cause I wasn’t dressed like you and Gareth and Grant and Jeff and Ronnie and—”

Eddie’s lips cut you off, all gentle and lovely.

“I like you just the way you are,” he said. “Would you want me to be someone else?”

You shook your head. “Never.”

“Exactly.” Huffing, his eyelids drooped before they fluttered back open. A soft smile adorned his lips. “You called me a pretty boy in your song.”

You chuckled. “Yes, Eddie. Yes, I did.”

“You think I’m a pretty boy?”

“The prettiest.”

“I like that. Pretty boy. People think I’m all mean and scary.”

“In reality, you’re just a soft, pretty boy.”

“The softest,” he agreed. “And the prettiest.”

“I won’t tell anyone, don’t worry.”

“You already did, silly girl.”

You said nothing.

Eddie took your hand, holding it against his chest.

“Wanna ask you something true.”

“Yeah, what is it?”

“What do you miss the most from before?”

You thought about it, fiddling with his tank top all the while.

There was a lot about life before fame that still held value to you. The simplicity of going grocery shopping or to the farmer’s market. Writing in a coffee shop for hours while strangers flitted around you. Walking around thrift shops. Taking your time doing literally anything.

But there was one place you could always stay invisible. A place that transported you to a different time, a different dimension. Come out a different person than before. You could almost taste the buttered popcorn and your favorite soft drink combo. You could almost taste that kind of anonymity again.

You smiled. “Probably going to the movies.”

“You could probably rent out a theater for a matinee showing. No one goes to those.”

“I did,” you said, smiling. “It was my favorite thing to do. Get a few dollars off, have the theater with one or two people who also had a day off. It was fun. I’d save up just to go see a movie.”

Eddie’s grasp on your hand tightened. “I think that’s cool. I always went to the movies and now I just pay for streaming. It’s actually pretty shit.”

“It sucks,” you agreed.

He let out a hum. “You’re making me miss it. Fuck.”

“Do you ever want to go back to that?” you asked softly. “You know, just being a person and not a celebrity.”

“If you asked me six months ago, I might’ve said yes.” The smallest smile reached his tired face. “But I never would’ve met you if I hadn’t gotten famous.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” you breathed.

“I wouldn’t trade you for the world.”

“I never want to be with anyone else ever again,” you confessed, closing your eyes. “I think you’re the best thing to ever happen to me. It’s just scary.”

“Don’t be scared, sweetheart,” he said, voice seemingly farther away than before. “You have me.”

And as sleep began to wash over you, you were left with one last sentence.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

A special thank you to @strangergraphics for her help with these cool dividers!!! Always in love with what you come up with.

#Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #modern!eddie munson #modern!eddie x reader #Eddie Munson x female reader #boyfriend!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie #rockstar eddie munson #I really hope this doesn’t suck!

40 notes · View notes

teaberrii · 6 months

Text

Chapter 4: Shall We Date...?

After ending a five-year relationship, you pour all your energy into work. Your latest assignment? Staying at a popular bed-and-breakfast to gather information. It should be a piece of cake... If only the owner isn't the man you scolded on the street.

Jing Yuan/You

Notes:

Cross-posted on Ao3

Female reader

Chapter index at the end of chapter one

“...My ex-wife.”

You sit up for what feels like the tenth time that night. It has been hours since you and Jing Yuan parted ways, but you still can’t get that out of your head. You’d wanted to ask, but was that too personal? Regardless, you didn’t get a chance as Yanqing and Pom had woken up.

Now, you're left with a million questions. But, this means Jing Yuan isn't gay. Or, maybe he’s pan, bi, or—

You sigh loudly and fall back onto the bed. Does his ex-wife still work at Star Rails Hotel? Who is she? A manager? Or, just another regular employee like you? How long were they together? What happened—

You sit up. This is getting out of hand. Your eyes are dying to rest, but your mind’s running laps. You get out of bed and slip on a thin jacket over your PJs. Then, off you go to get some much-needed fresh air.

The air is crisp and chilly, calming your mind in ways that lying in bed can never accomplish. Eventually, you come across a pool where the dim glow of the lights inside the water makes it look almost ethereal. You’re walking along the side of the pool when you hear a woman’s voice.

“Can’t sleep either?” You look towards the white beach chairs just as March lifts her sunglasses to the top of her head. She’s looking at you with a small smile. “Join the club.”

“What’s with the sunglasses?” you ask in amusement, coming up to take the empty chair beside her. “Not judging, just wondering.”

“I was hoping it’d help me get some sleep, but then someone showed up out of the blue.” March sits up, her thin, airy blazer moving to the side. She says she’s here to get some sleep, but with her crop top and shorts, you think she's ready for a swim. “What’s keeping you awake, Femme Fatale? Is it a guy, hm?” She leans forward and whispers, “Is it Boss?”

“...Are you talking about Jing Yuan?”

“Who else?”

You cross one leg over the other. “What makes you think that?”

“I saw the way you two were looking at each other at the dinner table.” She chuckles. “Nothing escapes my eyes.”

“Well, he’s been a nice guy so far,” you admit, looking at the pool.

“Hey…” When you turn back, March is looking at you with curiosity. “Are you trying to find some faults in him or something?”

“It’s not that. It’s…” Then, you give her a deadpan look. “You’re asking a whole lot of questions, March.”

She laughs. “Sorry. To make up for my rudeness, is there anything you’d like to know?”

Well…

“Why do you call him Boss?”

March leans back and looks out at the pool. You sense there's a personal story behind the nickname as the silence is not what you’re expecting. Then, March says, “Long story, but we were guests when he was still getting this B&B off the ground.” She turns to you. “...Back then, I was still active.” Active? “Judging from your expression, you still don’t know who I am, huh?”

“You’re March, right? That influencer—”

Just as the man’s words come back to you, March says, “March 7th reporting for duty!”

Wait a minute.

Your eyes widen. “You’re March 7th?!”

“Gosh, took you long enough.” She sighs. “Then again, I can’t blame you.”

March 7th. She was a popular online influencer in her early twenties who disappeared from the Internet after multiple scandals.

‘Fake’ Rich Girl Cancelled

Scandal-ridden Influencer Upcoming Appearance Cancelled

Online Influencer Stops Activites After Unreal Discovery…

You’ve heard of her and seen her ads in department stores. While you weren’t a fan, per se, you knew that she was known for her popular videos that showcased her “idol-like” visuals and talent. She sang and danced and appeared on reality shows. You vaguely remember hearing from your friends that she was caught smoking or promoting fake products. There were more accusations, but you didn't pay much attention as you had your life to worry about.

Regardless, you remember her being much skinnier with long hair. Her makeup style was also a lot bolder than what it is now. That was years ago. Now her features have matured, but when you look closely, you can see it. The essence of who she used to be.

While you don’t remember what caused her online career to plummet, you’re at a loss for words. You never thought in your wildest dreams you’d meet someone like March 7th.

“...You’re not going to ask?”

“About your scandals?” You’re curious, no doubt. “That’s none of my business. But, I just…” Then, quietly, “It’s crazy to think that a celebrity is in front of me right now.”

“Looks like my hunch about you was right.” She puts her hands on the chair. “You’re not the type that goes crazy over celebrities and whatnot.”

“I like to think I’m past that phase, thank you very much.”

You and March quietly laugh. Then, she takes out a pack of cigarettes from her pocket. She slides it open and offers you one. You politely decline. To your surprise, she puts it back inside her pocket instead of lighting one.

“...Anyway, to answer your question, Jing Yuan helped me out of a bad place.”

It was the early hours of a cloudy day when March went out for a smoke. She lit a cigarette and took a drag just as she saw a shirtless Jing Yuan working in the garden. Did he really not recognize her? He’d treated her like any other person. She wasn’t a failed celebrity or a girl with "issues." She was just like everyone else.

March walked over and continued watching him. She’d seen her fair share of physically attractive older men. But maybe it was because of the industry she was in that most of them were sleazy or had ulterior motives. Yet what she’d seen of Jing Yuan so far... He was none of those things but a hardworking, upstanding guy.

Jing Yuan stood and turned around. “Do you need something?”

“Your attention would be nice.” Jing Yuan raised a brow, and March chuckled. “I’m just kidding.” Then, she took another drag. “...You don’t happen to have a map of the island, do you? It’s my first time here.”

“You can find one at the reception counter. Pom should have some—”

“Already checked,” March lied. “Do you have any at your office?”

Jing Yuan walked up to her, and March awkwardly avoided his eyes. “You checked, huh?”

“...Yup.”

But, instead of calling her out on her lie, he put on a shirt and said, “...Follow me.”

When they walked side-by-side, she casually asked, “Why don’t you hire someone to do all this manual labour for you?”

“Someone’s curious.”

March shrugged. “Just something I observed. You have a few workers here and there, but you’re still doing a lot of the management stuff yourself.” She looked around at the guests who were enjoying a casual BBQ or casually strolling around the resort. “But, this place looks like it’s doing well enough for you to hire a few extra people.”

“For someone on holiday, you sure are paying a lot of attention to what’s happening around here.”

Jing Yuan opened a door to the cabin designed like a mini office. But, before March could follow him inside, he said, "...Wait here."

She stepped closer to him and her body was inches away from his. "What if I don't want to?"

"Then you'd be trespassing, and I could kick you out."

March almost felt offended at how unamused he sounded. "...Do you know who I am?"

"Are you here for the map or not?"

March sighed and walked off the porch. "Go on. I'll wait here."

When Jing Yuan came back out, March was sitting on a rock, looking bored as hell. He walked over and handed the map to her. "This one has a few day trip recommendations so you'll have ideas of what you can do."

March stood and took it from him. Then, she crossed her arms. "Sounds like you're trying to kick me out."

"That wasn't my intention. You're free to stay, of course. But, it would be a waste to spend your entire day at the resort. There's a lot to see."

Sensing his genuine kindness, March frowned. “You aren’t scared your reputation’s going to plummet because you’re housing an unruly celebrity?"

“If I was, I wouldn't have let you stay here."

"So you do know who I am," she said, narrowing her eyes.

“No matter who you are, you’re a guest like everyone else. Why would I treat you any differently?”

There’s so much to unpack that you don’t know where to start.

“I kinda wanted to flirt with him, if I’m being honest," March says, leaning back. "But, after he said that, it made me realize that I was young and dumb.”

“...How so?”

“The rumours about me that were going around at the time… Not all of them were true. But, I started believing all the nasty things people were calling me." March sighs. “I won’t bore you with details, but Jing Yuan was a stranger. Him treating me just like any other person made me see things a little differently. Maybe he was judging me back then, but if a stranger could see past that, why couldn’t I do it for myself?”

“You seem to be doing a lot better now,” you say with a little smile.

“I am, but I’d like to attribute that to my hard work. It has nothing to do with Jing Yuan.” She laughs. “But, yeah, I mean… it’s in the past and we get a good laugh about it now.”

“I never thought you’d be into older men, though, if I’m being honest.”

March leans forward. “Jing Yuan ages like fine wine, I swear. We’d never mix well, but I was so shocked to hear about his divorce.”

“...Was he married when you, uh…”

March raises her hands as if declaring innocence. “I knew nothing about a wife and a kid back then. If I knew, I wouldn’t have flirted with him. Wasn’t a few years later that I found out. It’s still a shock to many people.” March lies back on the chair. “He hasn’t seen anyone since... probably because he was so busy trying to get this business off the ground that he had no time for things like that."

The skies have brightened, and from over the horizon, the sun peeks out from behind the clouds.

“Hey.” You turn to March who has a curious sparkle in her eyes. She asks, “What do you think of Jing Yuan?”

“...He seems like a good guy.”

March rolls her eyes. “Girl, give me the tea. Do you think he’s hot?”

You don’t get a chance to answer when you and March see someone enter the pool area. Jing Yuan’s shirtless, but it isn’t just his toned body that takes your breath away. The abstract dragon tattoo that runs from his shoulder to his chest looks like it's handpainted. He looks in your direction, and unbeknownst to you, March waves at him.

“Out for your morning swim?” she asks.

Jing Yuan slips on a black beach blazer and walks over. “What are you two doing up so early?”

“What do you think? None of us could sleep.”

Jing Yuan looks at you. “Why’s that? Is it a problem with the room?”

“The room’s fine,” you say, looking away, your face feeling slightly hot.

March glances from you to Jing Yuan and back to you. Then, she takes out her phone and sees the flurry of messages. “Ah… I’d better head back,” she says, standing. “Will you two be okay?”

“What makes you think we won't?” Jing Yuan asks.

“Oh, I know you’ll be fine, Boss,” March looks at you and chuckles. “Well, toodles!”

Jing Yuan puts a hand inside his pocket as he watches her run off. Then, he sits in the chair in front of you. “...Don’t tell me I did something to upset you, Corporal.”

You finally turn his way. “What makes you think that?”

“Seems like you didn’t want to look at me for a bit there.” You can’t help but look at his dragon tattoo. Then, his low voice comes again. “Curious?”

You look up and see him looking at you with interest. “A little.”

Jing Yuan smiles and looks down. “Well, why don’t I make you a deal?”

“...What kind of a deal?”

He nods at the pool. “Take a swim with me, and I’ll tell you about it.”

“I’m in my PJs if you haven’t noticed.”

“Don’t tell me you came to a resort without bringing a swimsuit.”

“I came here for work.” Jing Yuan continues looking at you until you cave. “...Okay, I did bring something.”

Jing Yuan chuckles. “You’re right, though. You’re here for work. But, if you need to relax, the pool’s always open… most of the time.”

You slightly smile. “Are you here every morning?”

“Every other day. Otherwise, I go for a run.”

“I don’t know whether to be impressed or call you crazy.”

“Why not both?”

“Because that’s being too nice,” you deadpan.

“Looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”

"What gave it away?" You rub your eyes. "Sorry. I can really feel the fatigue kicking in.”

“Go back and get some sleep.”

You sigh and stand. “But, breakfast’s in an hour.” You don’t need to guess that you’re going to oversleep.

“...Text me when you’re awake.”

You look at Jing Yuan who’s also standing now. “Why?”

“Special service.”

“...Special service?”

“If you want to go out and grab something to eat when you’re awake, that’s fine. Or…” Your eyes widen when he leans slightly closer and whispers in your ear, “...The owner can cook something for you in a private kitchen. No pressure.”

“Private… kitchen?” You narrow your eyes. “Trying to butter up the enemy, huh?”

“Enemy?” He chuckles. “If that’s how you want to put it. But”—he smiles mischievously—”you’re going have to do a little better to get secrets out of me.”

“Who said anything about secrets?”

“It’s why you’re here, aren’t you?” Then, he leans upright. “Good luck, Corporal.”

You watch Jing Yuan walk and dive with perfect form into the swimming pool. Now you’re not just tired. You’re also a little annoyed… but excited?

◆◆◆

By the time you’re awake, it’s a little past noon.

You wash up and change into comfortable clothes before opening your phone and seeing a bunch of texts from your friends. You forgot you left your phone on silent and didn’t bother checking it. Some are from your mom, asking how everything’s been. So, you give her a call.

“Are you having too much fun that you forgot all about me?” she jokes.

“It’s why I’m calling you now.”

You get her up to speed with what’s been happening, including that you are friends with the owner of the B&B. Of course, you don’t go into details about the… flirting that’s been happening.

“Sounds like you’ve been having fun.”

“More or less.”

“...Do you know that he’s been trying to reach me?”

“Who?”

As soon as your mom says your ex’s name, you frown. “...He really wants to get back in touch with you.”

“Mom, I thought I told you to block him.”

“I did! But one of your friends reached out and… He wants you to give him another chance."

You scoff. “That’s not going to happen." A small pause. "I’ll deal with this. I won’t let them harass you anymore.”

You sigh loudly when you end the call. This is not how you imagined to start the day. Jing Yuan suddenly flashes in your mind, and you slightly shake your head.

You’re thinking about the best course of action when you head outside and hear overlapping voices. The closer you get to the stone villa, the louder it gets. Then, you see a small crowd surrounding two tall men who look like clones of one another. Both have a handsome face. But one has green eyes and long black hair that reminds you of an elegant prince while the other has short black hair and dull blue eyes. A short distance away, Welt is watching with vague amusement. When he sees you, he waves.

“...What’s going on?” you ask, walking up.

“Ah… Let me apologize for the commotion on behalf of my friends,” Welt says.

“Your friends?”

You look closer, and you swear you’ve seen them before. They’ve just finished taking a photo with two girls when the man with the long hair notices you. He walks past one woman and up to you.

“Is this the woman you and March were talking about?” he asks.

“My latest inspiration and the woman who stood up for March? Yes.”

When the man smiles at you, your heart almost skips a beat. “Hi.” He holds out a hand.

You awkwardly take it. “Hi… You’re not going to give me a name?”

The man looks a little surprised as if you should know who he is.

“...Clearly, my brother’s head is still in the clouds.” The other one walks over and gives you a little smile. “My name’s Dan Heng. This is my brother, Dan Feng.”

Where have you heard those names before…?

“They’re athletes,” Welt says as if reading your mind.

That’s when it hits you, and you gasp.

“Didn’t you compete in the Global Games?”

“That’s right,” Dan Feng answers. “Two-time fencing and kendo gold medalists.”

Your jaw almost drops.

“Welt and March told us about you,” Dan Heng says.

“We’ve been curious,” Dan Feng adds. Then, with a little smile, he says, “You’re prettier than they described.”

Your eyes widen at the unexpected compliment.

“...What are you doing?” Dan Heng deadpans.

“What? I’m being honest.”

Welt and Dan Heng roll their eyes just as you hear, “...You’re awake.”

You turn around and see Jing Yuan dressed in a fitted, V-neck, dark gray shirt and white pants.

Dan Feng chuckles. “Don’t tell me you have a date with the owner.”

“That’s…” You remember your mom and your annoyingly persistent ex. Then, you're hit with an interesting but workable idea. Before Jing Yuan can say anything, you say, “...Could we talk?”

As the brothers watch you and Jing Yuan walk into the stone villa, Dan Heng side-eyes his brother. “Don’t be getting any weird ideas.”

“You hurt me, Brother. Why do you always think the worst of me?”

Dan Heng sighs. “Because you never prove me otherwise.” Then, he sees Welt looking in the direction you and Jing Yuan had walked off. “...Welt? Is something wrong?”

Welt turns back. “Oh, no. I… just had a thought.”

“Inspiration, perhaps?” Dan Feng asks.

“...Something like that.”

Pom greets you and Jing Yuan with a salute when you enter the lobby. Then, in a cheery voice, he takes the receptionist’s phone call.

“If you want privacy, we can talk on the patio,” Jing Yuan says.

Sure, why not? It’ll give you a chance to gather your thoughts.

Jing Yuan leads you upstairs, and despite Pom’s professionalism on the phone, his eyes are following your every move. Jing Yuan opens a set of doors that leads to a rooftop patio that has a fireplace and some couches and chairs.

“...I got a call from my mom today,” you say, sitting on the adjacent couch.

“Is everything okay?”

“...Apparently, my ex’s been bothering her.”

“...That’s not a good sign.”

“My friends have been texting me about unblocking him, too. And…” You sigh and look away. “...Getting a bit off topic there. But, just to get them off my back for now, could you…” Gosh, this sounded a lot better in your head.

“You want me to play the fake boyfriend?”

“I mean… You don’t have to do anything. It’s not like they’re actually here, so—”

Jing Yuan leans forward and looks at you with a little smile. “That’s true, but I don’t like to half-ass anything.”

Your pulse quickens as he continues looking at you. “I’m also looking for other ways to get him off my back, but I'd appreciate the help.”

“If it escalates, you could file a police complaint.”

“...I hope it won’t get that far,” you mutter. You lean back. “We may have broken up, but… we were friends for years before we dated. Just kinda sucks that’s all gone too.”

“If you remained friends with him… do you think that friendship would continue to last?”

“...Hard to say.”

“Sometimes, we outgrow our friends, and ending things with them may not be as ugly as relationships but..."

"It still hurts... if not more," you finish. Then, you glance at him, thinking whether to ask him about his ex-wife when Jing Yuan’s phone goes off.

He reaches into his pocket and looks at the screen. Then, he looks at you apologetically. “I have a meeting.”

“Ah, no worries. Sorry for keeping you.”

“...Looks like my special service will have to come a little later,” he says, standing.

“You were serious about that?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

You stand and shrug. “I thought you were just saying it. Seems a little much.”

Then, he leans over and suddenly kisses your cheek. “Well, you’re not just a guest anymore, are you?” When you see him looking at you, your face feels warm. “...As I said, I don’t like to half-ass anything.”

This is just temporary. You’re here for work.

That’s what you keep telling yourself, at least.

Chapter 5

Tag list: @suoshiii @lordbugs @lxry-chxn @seirenspinel @immahuman @queencybow @grimreapersscythe @nqctre

#jingyuan x reader #jing yuan #jing yuan x y/n #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x you #hsr jing yuan #honkai star rail jing yuan

91 notes · View notes

ren-meteor · 5 months

Text

Finally sat down and did an MK1 Tethys bio 😔

The format belongs to @starneko123 🥰

First Name: Tethys - Greek Goddess of Freshwater

Last Name: Marsalis - ‘Little Soldier’ or ‘Warlike’

Date of Birth: October 20th

Age: 24

Alias: Nomad

Gender: Female

Siblings: n/a

Sexuality: Bisexual

Species: Half Human, Half Edenian

Hair Color: Warm Brown

Eye Color: Brown

Origins: Earthrealm

Current Location: Earthrealm

Height: 5’8

Alignment: Neutral Good

Status: Alive

Affiliation: Lin Kuei (Formerly)

Shirai Ryu

White Lotus Society (Ally)

Physical Health: Excellent

Mental Health: Good

Likes:

Oceans

Beaches

Sailing

Helping others

Gardening

Stargazing

Protecting Earthrealm

Dislikes:

Disrespect

Greed

Liars

Manipulation

Injustice

Unnecessary death

Stats

Speed: 5/10

Agility: 7/10

Intelligence: 9/10

Strength: 9/10

Stamina: 8/10

Stealth: 9/10

Cooperation: 7/10

Durability: 8/10

Fighting Skills: 9/10

Flexibility: 6/10

Reflexes: 8/10

Instincts: 7/10

Mentors:

Bi-Han

Kuai Liang

Madam Bo

Thalia Marsalis

Zaid

Rain

Family:

Zaid (Father - Alive)

Thalia Marsalis (Mother - Deceased)

Rain (Cousin - Alive)

Love Interest: Tomas Vrbada

Love Status: Lovers

Weapons / Accessories

Jewel of the Edenian Sea

Greek Short Spears (formed using water)

Powers:

Water manipulation - Hydrokinesis

Healing

Teleportation

Turning into a liquid state/hide in water

Pulling moisture out different sources (plants, humans, air, earth)

Personality:

In Liu Kang’s new timeline, Tethys is much more headstrong than previous iterations. She still cares for those around her deeply, and would do anything to keep them safe, but can be a bit more reckless on how she deals with threats. She is still reliable, passionate and altruistic, but can be a bit intense at times. Tethys also enjoys the thrill of battle more than her previous iterations, and while fighting is almost never an option she would choose first, there is always the hope in the back of her mind that it ends up going that way.

Tethys is also a bit more morally grey this time around, doing what’s best for her and those she is close to, regardless of laws or order. A downside to this, though, is she can be more easily persuaded or manipulated into doing something that may seem beneficial to her/her loved ones, but really only helps the benefactor.

History:

Tethys was born from an affair between her mother, Thalia, who was one of Liu Kang’s champions, and a powerful Edenian water mage, Zaid. She grew up among many people, but spent much of her time alongside the Lin Kuei. Her mother had been taken in after losing her family, as Tethys’ grandfather had been close to a previous Grandmaster, and in turn trained her daughter in a hybrid of their ways.

Tethys was granted the ability to travel between Earthrealm and Outworld, being able to spend time with her father and his people. During a short visit, she found her affinity for water magics, and her ability to control and manipulate it. Her father trained her whenever they were together, whether they were alone or Rain joined them, due to Zaid being his uncle. During their training, she found herself a friendly rival in her cousin Rain.

During her training with the Lin Kuei, she was mostly influenced by Bi-Han. She developed her abilities into a harsh, strong, more intense but still fluid style. She enjoyed the strength she felt with the fighting style, as it made her feel as though she could prove herself among the strongest of fighters.

Because of their time spent together, Tethys developed feelings for Bi-Han. She kept them to herself, but eventually he found out. After a brief fling, the two had a falling out but remained professional due to their duties. Because of her tactical prowess and ability to assess situations quickly, she often found herself working with him anyway, so quickly had to shove her feelings out of the way, resulting in a sort of resentment for Bi-Han. She still cared deeply for him, but it was no longer in a romantic way.

As time went on, Tethys spent more time alongside the other two brothers, going on missions with both Kuai Liang and Tomas. While working with Tomas, she found that she had a knack for stealth work, and the two ended up getting along and working together quite well. At first, they bonded over their mutual feelings about Bi-Han, but eventually developed into an honest, good and wholesome friendship. It made their teamwork on missions that much more cohesive.

Tethys had worked and trained together with Tomas consistently for almost two years before she realized that she had fallen for him. She didn’t register it at first, but she eventually noticed when the two would hold eye contact for a little longer than necessary, the small touches between them- on the arm, their back or hands. Her mood rose when he was with her, and missed him when he wasn’t. She craved his laugh, his smile.

The two hadn’t acted on their affections though until after a particularly rough mission where Tethys ended up injured. All feelings for each other came to a head and after sitting on it overnight, the two entered a relationship the next day.

By the time the events of MK1 roll around, they’ve been together for almost a year. She assists in the assessment of Kung Lao and Raiden, fighting Raiden at first before taking the fall. After the potential champions get recruited to train with the monks, Tethys joins them to assist in teaching them to fight against people who have magical abilities.

Once Raiden is chosen as champion she joins the group in Outworld, acting as a bodyguard/guide, and to pay a visit to old friends and family. After winning the tournament, Tethys returned to the Lin Kuei. Once learning about the soul stealers, she was tasked along with the brothers to destroy them. She stays outside with Tomas, watching over the soul stealers to make sure they weren’t activated.

After meeting back with Kuai Liang and learning of Bi-Han’s betrayal, Tethys hesitated. She knew of Bi-Han’s want to turn the Lin Kuei into a ruling factor of Earthrealm, and saw his point of view behind it. But this was not the way she wanted to do it. She wanted to help lead, not rule. She didn’t want power over anyone.

When running into Bi-Han on their way out, he tried to sway her to his side, persuading and telling her what she needed to hear to switch sides. If she was alone, it would have worked. But both Tomas and Kuai Liang grounded her back in reality and she rejected Bi-Han’s proposition. The three of them left after the quick fight, regrouping back with Liu Kang and informing him on the developments.

Tethys joins the other champions during the fight against the dragon warriors, fighting on ground level to destroy as many as she could. She also fought alongside the group against their evil counterparts, and in turn met with the Tethys who was victorious against Shang Tsung in her own timeline. After a grueling battle for their timeline and a few life lessons from her prior self, she along with the others were successful in protecting their timeline.

Once the dust had settled, she joined Kuai Liang, Harumi and Tomas in forming the new Shirai Ryu.

#my art #mk1 oc #oc #mk oc #mk #mortal kombat #mortal kombat oc #tethys #mortal kombat 1 #mk1 2023 #mk1 #This is the generality of it #I might have to switch some minor things but #yeah 👍#and I've decided that her main/story outfit is the lin kuei uniform #her greek one is her alt

53 notes · View notes

snellyfish · 1 month

Note

Why is Angie your favourite character?

This is really funny I just got off call with Glownary and was talking about how much I don't miss Danganronpa discourse. Anyway I hope someone finds a way to get mad at me in this post!

((Admittedly I'd probably actually place Korekiyo above her because he ACTUALLY has a relevant and specified canon story,,, but, y'kno))

Plain and simple, she just has a handful of design and character tropes I super adore in characters! As a base, I'm usually not super into,,, well-adjusted, well-liked , reasonable, and rational characters. LMAO. They're fine but I live for exaggeration. I LOVE when they're little freaks and not watered down at all for the viewers sake/comfort, I love when they (both the writers and the written) just keep twisting the knife for no good reason other than the bit despite how unconventional it may be.

One could argue that her not being watered down and being as shitty to the other players as she is is a trauma response, or just a mentally ill person being mentally ill. It can be neat to think of her that way sometimes! It's of my opinion that almost all Danganronpa characters are super open-ended lore/personality-wise and we as fans are just making up canon as we go because it's FUCKING FUN, and, as such, all the ways that Angie can be interpreted is very interesting to me-- EVEN if that's seen as "the irredeemable annoying religion-force-feeding zealot antagonist." Which is, of course, an objectively awful way to view anyone REGARDLESS of media illiteracy, but, you know! I like weird freaks so this "flaw" they see is simply more food for me. Yippee!!

Whether I think she's canonically A) genuinely malicious and sadistic, B) traumatized from an abusive religious sect, C) honestly caring about the other players, and/or D) none/all of the above? I'll never tell! Oops all bangers!

Tropes I enjoy, whether or not I found myself enjoying them BECAUSE of Angie herself;;

Religion, especially if it's horrifying and...bad! (Most of my own characters deal heavily with religion and religious trauma, I think it's cool to play with, whether or not it's a fantasy religion like I think Angie's is)

CULTS! Cult behavior! Let's live in a commune!! (GUYS I LOVE MIDSOMMAR)

Dark skin / light hair contrast color combo goes hard!!!

+ The pansexual flag palette is literally my favorite color combo ever!!!!

Manipulative little shits!!!!!

Small scary women!!!!!!

Islander stuff, it's very nostalgic to me and I just have a deep love and appreciation for the beach and ocean!!!!!!!

Piercings!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Cutesy sunshine character who could and would stab you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

BLOOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IDK HOW THIS WASN'T MY FIRST POINT!!!!!!!!!!

AND SHE'S JUST FUCKING SILLY!!!!!!!! SHE'S GENUINELY SO FUNNY AND CUTE ESPECIALLY IN HER INTERACTIONS WITH SHUICHI!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE HER SO BAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

She was an IMMEDIATE favorite when I played V3 and when I found out that, like, everyone fucking HATED her and she's probably the least liked character in the entire class by the fans, my brain immediately went the contrarian route to find reasons to like her even MORE. I tend to do this a lot, but when it's a character I already enjoy, it's even worse, dude.

ummmmm obligatory Shinnaga mention sorry but I frequently tend to appreciate a character a lot more based on potential dynamics alone. Ships, romantic or not, have legitimately gotten me to enjoy characters I hated before, based on interesting interactions unique to them alone. So while Kiyo and Angie's (they're making out btw) ingame dynamic and dialogues aren't REALLY what my sick and twisted mind views them as, it's worth noting that my honest belief and interpretation of the two of them could even give me a sliver of that dynamic being possible .......... means she's fuckin slay ............ it means love wins..... It means Vote For Yonaga 2024

#angie yonaga #danganronpa #danganronpa v3 #character analysis #idk #ask #anon

33 notes · View notes

habit-poxly · 1 year

Text

father neptune (pt.4)

Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader

sea-monster hunter au!

description: After months of mulling over his confession to you in his head, Ghost finally is able to slip into your cottage and unravel his feelings. Lots of fluff

warnings: strong horror elements, early 1800′s dating,

word count: 3.5k

masterlist | Pt.1 | Pt.2 | Pt.3 | Pt.4

It was rare for Ghost to become flustered, it was something he had managed to restrain as his youth slipped away. As he grew older- and as the allure of beautiful women wore off- he resided to himself in solitude, fully accepting the reality of men of his profession. Men of the sea were notorious for being scum to the women whose beds they crawled into. That widespread belief rendered his options for partners increasingly limited- regardless of if marriage was something he was keen on.

He was sure at some point in history a sailor of his stature would have been a charm to the women in London, but not now. No, men like him weren't the sort women would resign themselves to marry; a woman wouldn't be satisfied with waiting on the shores for the likes of him- that he was sure. He could provide little outside of hoarded wealth, affection or love didn't come naturally to Simon. He had long passed the ability to feel shame for how beautiful he found her and was rather relieved when she found his incessant staring cute, not horrifically unsettling.

It had long since grown dark, she had allowed him to sit on her couch where they spoke for hours; he had told tales of some of the best battles of his youth, watching her eyes crinkle at the corners when she laughed. In return, she recounted times from her childhood of monster carcasses washing ashore, or her swinging on giant, bleached bones that were sticking out of the sand and rock. The topic of conversation seemed to avoid her actions on the beach altogether, neither of the pair wanting to spoil the comfortable atmosphere that had grown.

"Did yah grow up on the island?" He leaned back into the couch, trying his best to keep his eyes from falling over your form in less than respectful ways. You seemed like a modest woman, one dressed properly with hair drawn back neatly, even if in an outdated style from what he was used to seeing of women back home. You wore a plain blue dress, no ribbons or ruffles, with a white collar that sat strung around your neck.

He watches you mull over the question. You flatten the dress fabric in your lap before shaking your head and mouthing a silent 'no'.

"If I'm being honest, I don't remember much of anything at all. I have bits and pieces, things I can't make sense of as to why I remember them..." There was a pause before she began again, clearly trying her best to mull over the fragments and piece them together.

"I can't tell you if my father was tall or short, or what the colour of my mother's hair was- but I remember being in the streets of Dublin when a newsboy announced George Washinton had died. I remember a British soldier pushing me over when I was only four or so- I remember living in lots of different places but I only remember ever living here. In this house."

Simon nodded, his lips growing into a tight frown under his mask.

"How long have yah been here alone, love?" The nickname seemed natural in this setting, pet names had always been something he had to force out of himself- not for her, the way her eyes would light up made it worth it.

"A while." She shrugs, once again she flattens her dress, fingers fighting with the soft fabric.

"Bet yah don't even have a bathroom inside all the way out here." Simon hums, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. It was undoubtedly a luxury, one new and rather expensive. It was something that could only be experienced on the mainland, and he silently added it to the growing number of reasons why she would be far better off there with him.

She giggles and shakes her head. "I have a barrel that I put boiled water in, that's my indoor plumbing."

"Horrific. Can't imagine livin' in these conditions" Simon replies, allowing a soft chuckle of his own to slip out.

"Oh!- I'm sure boat life is just so much better. I certainly envy the months out in the open ocean covered in your own sweat and surrounded by rats." She leaned closer to him, a large smirk growing across her face.

"S' not as bad as you'd think. You should smell her' when somethings been rotting in her' hull for a week. None of the boys come close." Simon shrugs and stretches his arm across the back of the couch, a now large grin settling over him as he watches your face contort into disgust.

"That's shocking!" She softly pushed his chest and laughed, moving just a little bit closer to him. The action was small, something she most likely hadn't even put thought into- yet it sent his body haywire.

Admittedly Simon had always been the best at this part, the enisle flirting was something he had mastered in his 20's, anything past that point, though, was almost entirely new. He had been in relationships, sure, yet none that he was particularly invested in, he had never been the pursuer of commitment- yet now he had to be. It wasn't uncommon for men in this day and age- especially of his age- to propose at least a relationship rather quickly after meeting a woman they liked. He had strong doubts any other man on the island was interested in a betrothal with her- yet the urgency remained.

Marriage culture in London was something he had avoided like the plague, it being a dance of image and reputation that he had no interest in. Men and women were to marry young, have children young, and die young, yet the pair of them sat childless, single, old and alive. You looked to be older than 25,- yet certainly not older than 30- and for a woman as stunning as he had found you, it was beyond a surprise that no man had ever proposed to you at all.

Simon had accepted the reality of him begin marriageless as the rest of his crew had, yet that had never meant he wasn't lonely. For years he's laid alone in his cold cot in Manchester, thinking intently about what he could have done differently, how he could have prevented being alone. He had craved the company of a woman for far too long, he had pushed it down so far it had become insistently painful- unignorable.

Something about you had rattled something inside him loose; you had breathed the ability to love and be loved into him.

He was rather alluring himself, especially to a woman who had been on her own for quite some time. His dusty blond hair had been cut short along the sides, leaving long bits up top that stuck out messily. His features were sharp, strikingly so, having thick eyebrows with a deep scar slashed through one and piercing blue eyes. The bit of fabric covering the bottom half of his face was most certainly hiding a stubble-covered jaw.

"What happened here?" You pointed politely to your own eyebrow, eyes soft with concern that makes his heart flutter.

Simon's hand instinctively moves to the scar. He had gained so many over the years that he had stopped taking stock of where they were- or what they were from for that matter.

"Ah- got it when I was 18." He grumbled, the memory still causing a hot pain to strike across his face.

"Was on my first real hunting ship- most of the other lads were young too, one of em' did something stupid and let a rope snap while we were hauling something in. Whipped me right across the face. 'Suprised I didn't get a scar 'long the whole left side." He watches her eyes flicker with empathy, somehow becoming even warmer as the story ends.

"I'm sorry." She mutters, for a moment Simon stills, unsure of how to respond.

"You don't have to apologize to me, love. You didn't do it." He shakes his head, moving his arm slightly to tug you closer to his side.

"Why do you cover your face?" You ask, another question with only pure intention, yet it still tugged at Simon uncomfortably.

"'Prefer it this way, it stays on, love."

"Are you hiding something?" Your head tilts to the side.

"Just my face." He shrugs.

"Are you ugly?"

The question had been asked so many times his response was nearly automated at this point.

"Quite the opposite."

A large smile crosses her face, it was something she clearly already knew.

Desperately did he want you to lead him upstairs, to offer him to lay in your bed while he sleeps against your chest, or for you to run your fingers along his scalp and down his sore back. Everything about you was sweet, the way you did your hair, your soft tone, and your cries in the night, all grew overwhelmingly endearing with little effort on your part.

Simon Riley had never been 'whipped' in his life, no woman had ever reduced him to that level, but sitting in front of you, he was whipped. He had accepted that truth during the endless nights he spent tossing and turning, dreaming of you. He had wondered if maybe you had dreamt of him as well, perhaps he haunted your dreams, perhaps that was the reason for the heavy bags under your eyes, your endless crying at night.

"Why do you haunt the beach?" Regardless of him now knowing for certain she was a human woman, he still considered her a ghost, one like him, one whose private haunt he was encroaching on.

She sucks a breath in sharply, the sudden question catching her off guard.

"Why?" She repeats. The question lingers over you as you try to come up with an answer. There had never been a particular reason as to why, you had simply just done it, allowing your grief to wash away into the ocean.

"It feels good." You shrugged, the answer seemingly embarrassing you.

"It feels good to scream out to the ocean, she listens to me... Just listens. Not many will do that- listen to the sorrow-filled wailings of a woman running up and down the shoreline like a banshee."

"I listened." Simon could help but let it slip out. He had listened, he had listened intently, he tried to place her pain, and in his dreams, he would bet to take it from her- for her to give all of her sufferings to him, he would handle it all for her. Too many nights he clung to her in his dreams, too many nights he spent clinging to her, desperate to keep his head above water; no longer for himself, but to see her.

Your face grew a deep shade of red and your lips tightened into a deep frown. "You listened and then followed and then I shoved over your friend- stole your things!" You exclaimed. "I have no idea why you would have any interest in listening to my hysterics."

"Hysterics? You believe your feeling this way is all hysterics?" The disappointment in his voice was evident, something he was always unable to mask.

"Well..." You averted your eyes from him, moving them instead down into your lap as you straightened your posture away from him.

Suddenly he takes your hands in his, an action clearly neither had expected from him. He softly squeezes them before speaking.

"I'll listen. I'll listen if you'd let me- if you'd let me I'd take all of this from you, all your grief would be mine if it meant you'd be alright." He managed to force the words out, it was imperfect and certainly not the confession he had rehearsed on the way over. Her eyes dart back up to his face, her eyes widen as she studies him intently. After a moment of painful silence, she speaks, her voice small and unsure.

"You don't know me- you know nothing of me at all."

Pain tinges his heart at the comment, it was fair and he knew it. Sure, perhaps he knew her better than she knew him, surly her dreams weren't of the pair of them speaking for hours, living domestic lives together like his were; yet the comment still caused discomfort- distress even.

"I do know you, my love." His voice grows uneven, the desperation he's managed to keep at bay beginning to slip out as her eyes lock with his.

"I dream of you every night- When I look at the glow of the moon I think 'there, that was made for her.' Whenever I see the tide roll in I swear I think only of you. I'll see happy couples walking down the streets and wish desperately for it to be us- I've loved you in every life I've lived, surely that must be true with the amount of love I feel burning for you." Simon's voice shakes, each word said with full, honest intent yet still tinged with the self-restraint he's so accustomed to exercising.

"I know you." He asserts, squeezing your hands between his.

His pale face had long faded into a shade of bright red, his eyes flick frantically between studying your face for a negative reaction and anywhere else in the room.

"You're mad." You mutter as a rather dopy smile plasters your flushed face.

"Mad?" Simon exclaims confusion painting his voice. After the hardest confession of his life, after possibly one of the hardest things he's ever done, she's called him mad.

It took only a second more before your arms had wrapped around his neck and you pulled yourself into him. It takes an awkward moment for you to find his lips overtop the fabric mask instead of roughly kissing his jaw or cheek. Regardless of the fabric barrier, Simon moves his lips against yours, wishing desperately that the room were dark enough for him to rip it off.

His hands move down to your waist, he softly pulls your hips into his and settles your weight on top of him. His arms snake fully around you, locking you to him as you had done in the reverse. You pull away to take a breath, softly pushing against him to give yourself leverage over his hulking body. He brings his finger up to your face to softly brush away a strand of hair.

The novelty of kissing with the mask had worn off quickly, it becoming far more of a nuisance than a form of comfort for him at the moment. It was rather obvious that you felt the same, finding it rather annoying that he wouldn't move it. Not yet, but as the moments with you dragged on Simon began to reconsider.

"This is mad." You mutter, staring down at his covered face; even with the mask, you could see crimson sneaking up his cheekbones. His eyes were blown- wide and entirely focused on tracking your face- and his hair had somehow managed to grow more out of place than before. Simon doesn't respond, it crosses your mind he may be entirely focused on you- and he hadn't even heard what you had said at all.

He watches you in return, he watches your face fall from a satisfied smile down to one of guilt.

"And rather.. informal." You cover your mouth with your hand, silently wishing you yourself were wearing a mask to hide your embarrassment.

While you don't remember quite where you picked up your ideas around courting but you did know that you were taught that there was a proper and improper way of courting a man. It was quite different in England, many of their women only get married when they fall pregnant- however, there were things that had to be done before your and Simon's relationship could go any further.

"We aren't courting and I've kissed you! I'm so sorry, Simon. I-" As you begin to move off of him his hands move to grip your waist more firmly before rolling fully onto his back, allowing you to straddle him comfortably.

"Enough." He says firmly, your mouth snaps shut immediately at the command. He had certainly had some experience in barking orders.

"Courting? That's what you want, yeah? Does that mean I can't touch yah yet?- You don't want me to?" He struggles to form a sentence that feels comfortable, every word feeling clunky to him. Intimacy and affection on a deeper level were something Simon doubts he's ever expressed. Sure, he had tender moments with his mother- but those were few and far in between thanks to his father. Above all else, he wanted you to be comfortable, to love him back, so he would take extra care in every action.

Normally in courtships, those involved don't kiss, nor do they straddle one another- but this felt natural, not undignified or shameful like you had imagined breaking these sorts of social customs would feel.

"Well... I'm not too sure about that. I do want you to." You muttered, you understand courting, or dating for that matter was a custom in place to prevent people from marrying too quickly- yet intimacy can only happen within it so people tend to rush.

Simon's eyes crinkle from his grin, he moves his eyes down your form and adjusts your dress fabric to drape over him more neatly.

"You want me to what, sweetheart?" The teasing tone in his voice sends shivers up your spine.

"Oh stop!" A wide, flustered grin grows on your face as Simon chuckles deeply; he glides his hands gently up and down your waist and thighs.

"I'll come back 'round again in the mornin', have the kettle on for me." He hums, this accent seemingly getting thicker the quieter he speaks. "We'll start courting, hm?"

You smile, your stomach fluttering at the notion before the rest of his sentence settles in.

"You're leaving?"

He nods reluctantly, as if you even asking had made him reconsider. "Gotta get back before the lads come lookin' for a corpse."

"They still think I'm a monster?" You can't help but allow a soft giggle to slip past your lips.

"Gaz wouldn't even leave the boat- poor lad." Simon lets out a hardy chuckle, clearly feeling far less bad for Gaz than he was letting on.

"You must have a thing for monsters then- I'm sure of it. No sane man would see a woman crying hysterically on the beach and think 'ah yes, that one'." Your grin doesn't let up, and neither does his.

"Again with the hysterics." He shakes his head.

"Obviously I'm the most stable woman out there- couldn't find one who copes with minor inconveniences better." You say sarcastically. Simon huffs out a chuckle and nods, he's perfectly away of how odd his attraction appears, but he's always had an affinity for the uncanny or unwanted. Not that you were either of those things, he didn't find you unsettling in the slightest, perhaps that was part of the problem.

Reluctantly you two begin to pry away from each other's warmth, both moving to stand.

"So stable you use a harpoon as a mantle decoration?" Simon's eyes finally lock on the pointed metal rod- he would have missed it entirely if his eyes hadn't caught the ship's name carved into the grip. Quickly you go to grab it down to hand to him but Simon stops you and shakes his head.

"You can have it, darling. Soap isn't going to miss it."

"That's the one with the... with the hair?" You gesture out his haircut as best you can, you had seen many sailors with many odd style choices, but that one you had only seen on him.

Simon nods, "How'd you know his name?"

"Everyone on the island knows all of your names."

"Word gets 'round about us?" You could nearly hear the smirk in his voice.

"You guys all yell a lot." You grin widely as Simon rolls his eyes and scoffs.

You and Simon begin to exit the living room, you watch him dunk under the short doorframe before settling in the front room. He goes to grab for his coat but is stopped by you ducking under his arm and pressing your back against the door.

"Let me." You grab the heavy black coat off the door rack and hold it open for him, it takes a second for Simon to understand what you're doing but he turns around and places his arms into the jacket. It was a small action, something typical for women to help men with, but it felt different coming from her. You two switch places as you open the front door, and a rush of cold, salty evening air burst into the small room.

"It's an awfully dark walk to the dock... take my lamp, dear." You lean your frame out the door and point to a small table, atop it sat your good lantern. Picking it up he could tell it would have more than enough oil for the evening, he imagines you were planning on taking a walk tonight, one he had probably prevented you from taking.

"Thank you. For the tea- and this evening." Simon says and nods to you politely.

"Thank you for visiting me- and for asking me to court you." You can't help but shutter under his intense gaze, how desperately the pair of you wished he didn't have to go- but he did.

"Goodnight, Simon."

"Goodnight, love." He flicks on the lantern and turns from you.

You watched Simon walk all the way down to your garden gate before closing the door, then moving to watch him from the window. You watch him stop and turn back once, then again after taking a few more steps forward, then again, before he disappears fully over a small hill.

You imagine he'll be here painfully early in the morning.

taglist: @blueoorchid @@hoe4myers @yjhariani @lexi-zsy09 @galaxieshearme @tumblinginoz @icepancakes @iluvweasleys @crunchlite

#simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #ghost x reader #cod x reader #CoD MW2 AU #mw2 x reader #mw2 fanfic #x my posts #x codmw2 ff #x father neptune

155 notes · View notes