#shark watches horizons

[sharkdays]

as always heres my thoughts on the new ep (HZ025) spoilers!!! be careful

also im sick so if i make less sense then usual thats whu

this episode broke my fucking heart bro i got so much amethio content but at what cost.

terapagos still pissed as hell at amethio, i don;t think he's related to lucius (like not blood relatives) but i think it's possible he resembles/is the descendant of someone lucius/terapagos knew in terapagos' eyes.

also not to let out my film student but when diana and hamber had that confrontation hamber's face was half light half shadow and diana's was illuminated by the moon almost entirely and i started hollering. its fuckinnnn symbolism babey!!! love that shit its so good mwah

really interested to learn about their whole deal. AND diana just hopping on arcanine and just leaping out the window no hesitation??? shes so cool i love her. we need more badass older women in media methinks (i wonder how strong her arcanine is?)

also tbh i forgot all about onyx's garganacl so when the pokemon living in the castle were crystallized i freaked out for a second thinking it had to do something with terapagos/tera crystals and terrastalizing. i wonder if we'll see something like that later on, like the ones in area zero?

also um liko win onscreen this is soooo epic!!! shes so cool guys look at her go. roy as well!

speaking of onyx, i wonder if he was brought on the mission partly to serve as damage control for sango? she's a sore loser and aggressive in both attitude and battle style (literally used self destruct girl HUH) and he was consistently acting as a guard. we didnt get to see too much of them which i guess is expected but i really wonder how they compare to the other explorers.

ough. amethio. i've seen a few people mention his more ruthless battling here (he did try to blow away friede's phone (i think?) and was more aggressive with his attacks) but here it read to me as more like. desperation. he seems like he's scrambling for any sort of purchase he can find to complete his goal, especially with his expressions after he lost. it really makes me wonder why someone so young is knee deep into this, and what he's trying to prove if anything

also it could just be a coincidence but amethio's and friede's battle on the rooftop reallu reminded me of their first ever battle on the roof of liko's school. ANDDDD the contrast of the first episode being liko in the darkness of the night, unsure of what lie ahead vs this episode, where she is carried off to safety in the care of her friends into the early hours of dawn and amethio being left in the wake HELLO does any one hear me

anyways i need to wait for subs to really understand. i think i am going to take a nap now

#shark speaks #pokemon horizons #amethio #liko #sango pokemon #onyx pokemon #pokeani #anipoke #HZ025 #hamber pokemon #diana pokemon #shark watches horizons #yeah thats a tag #friede #friede pokemon

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

what friends do | f. odair

masterlist

summary: you were a simple town girl. finnick odair was the crown jewel of panem. both of you needed an escape and found it at a secluded beach just outside district four. these were three ingredients that created a year-long friendship. but were friends supposed to have… impure thoughts about one another? you weren’t so sure.

pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader

warnings: smut, wayyy too much detail, dirty thoughts, friends-to-lovers, mild angst, mostly readers pov, pre-rebellion, HEAVY dirty talk, fingering, unprotected p in v (big no no), multiple orgasms, so much pining, creampie, cock-warming

notes: i’m so sorry this took me so long. life has been up my ass lately and, as y’all know, i’m a slow writer. but thank you sm to everyone who patiently stuck around, i love y’all <3 this was supposed to be a short smut fic but um, apparently not. anyway, this has taken long enough to come out so imma stop rambling. ENJOY <3

word count: 11.7k

Mid-Autumn was closely approaching District Four.

Harvest in the fishing industry was at its peak and the docks were chock-full with boats bringing in their plentiful catches. The town centre was a bustling scene, crowded with people selling produce and trading for food to bring home to their family's kitchen table.

Last year's autumn harvest was the same picture—overflow, hustle, commotion; chaos like this was something you never came to enjoy. So, it was also around this time last year that you had decided to set off in search of the perfect location away from the rest of society. A place where you could be at peace, where you could forget the disastrous world you lived in.

District Four was home to many popular beaches, but the one you discovered was uninhabited, isolated, found after an hour-or-so-long trek through overgrown dirt pathways and a thicket of sea-grape and palm trees. A true paradise away from society. Or so you had thought in the first few weeks.

You weren't too sure when he had started showing up or how he had even discovered the beach.

However, one evening, as you were seated in the sand watching the sunset on the darkening horizon, you noticed a dark figure diving and surfacing in the flat, glimmering water. Their movements were so poised and fluid like the ocean was something they had conquered. You guessed it to be a dolphin or shark because there was no way a human being could move so gracefully.

But then the figure started wading to shore, and the next thing you knew, they were standing on two legs and exiting the water. You knew then that you had guessed wrong. The sun behind him obscured the bronze of his hair and the swirling lukewarm sea that pooled around his pupils. All you could see was the outline of his tall broad figure as he hiked through the sand toward you.

Fear had told you to bolt from the approaching stranger. You were in the middle of nowhere—it was the perfect place to be murdered or kidnapped. But something else, some deep and tangible instinct, also told you to stay.

"Didn't realise I had a captive audience," thestranger spoke, droplets of gleaming water sliding off his body and into the sand as he stood a few feet away.

Taken by surprise, you fumbled over your words trying to form a sentence in response. "I wasn't—I didn't—"

"Easy, honey," he chuckled. The sound was so warm and pleasant that it almost alleviated the slight chill in the air. "Just pulling your leg."

Your mouth formed a small circle. "Right," you said, gaze locked on the golden sand in embarrassment. "I, uh, didn't think anyone else knew about this place."

To be honest, you were pretty sure it was a restricted area. Probably the reason it was so isolated. If a Capitol official found you, the consequences would most likely involve your tongue, a scalpel, and a hell of a lot of pain. All for a wanting a little peace and quiet.

"Neither did I," the man said. "I only come every now and then. Need an escape from the constant buzz back home. Time for myself, you know?"

"Yeah." You smiled, feeling the stranger's words resonate in your soul. "Yeah, I do know."

You thought you saw the corners of his lips curve into a smile, but the shadows on his face were so prominent that you couldn't tell.

"Mind if I sit?" he asked.

Well... if he were going to murder you, he would have done it already. So, you nodded. Sometimes you questioned your survival instincts. Or lack thereof.

He didn't leave much space as he sat beside you. Only an inch or two, meaning you could feel the humidity of body heat and salt water emit from his skin. Even sitting down, he was still quite tall compared to you, but that wasn't what caused your heart to drop into your stomach.

The setting sun, which no longer disguised his face with shadows, now illuminated his entire figure and revealed his identity. His hair was a mess of wet wavy strands, the colour alight like a pale fire beneath the sun's orange radiance. His skin was sun-kissed, no doubt from days he had spent perfecting his swimming abilities. And those dimples... wow.

He was gorgeous. A man sculpted by the gods of beauty, just like everyone in Panem had depicted him to be. Even his sea-green eyes were as striking as everyone said.

Finnick Odair.

The man who was crowned victor of the sixty-fifth Hunger Games at fourteen. Who trapped multiple tributes at once in a net and killed them one by one with his famed trident. A killer.

The man whose reputation in the Capitol was known nationwide. A proud womanizer.

That was what everyone made him out to be.

Only, in the brief interaction you shared with him, he seemed like quite the opposite. He radiated effortless charm and warmth, but not in the arrogant way the media had portrayed him. Then again, did the media ever accurately portray the truth of anything?

It was then that you determined it didn't really matter who people said he was or what he had done. He was a human being—just like you. He deserved a chance.

His pink lips stretched into a knee-weakening smile; you were grateful that you were sitting down.

"I'm Finnick, by the way."

The both of you knew he didn't need to introduce himself. The whole of Panem knew his name and face. Though the fact that he humbly did so anyway made you like him the tiniest bit more.

You returned his smile with one of your own and introduced yourself.

Time passed and the sun had set; the moon had risen, but you both remained sitting side-by-side in the sand. Conversation flowed so naturally between the two of you that it was difficult for you to remember that stopping and getting some air into your lungs was an important factor in keeping a conversation going... as well as keeping you alive.

You told him about yourself as he did himself—some things that were meant to remain secrets, some things that seemed too strange to tell anyone else.

At some point, he had offered to walk you back to your house. The trek was over an hour long but neither of you seemed to care. The time flew by. 

When you were standing at your front door and he was gazing up at you from the bottom of the steps, you both promised to meet again the next day. And you did. 

As you did the day after that... and the day after that... and the day after that...

**********

As soon as the nights carried that familiar chill and the town congested with markets and fervent buyers, you knew mid-autumn had made its return. This meant most of your evenings were spent at a certain secret beach with a certain District Four victor.

Having already finished his pre-sunset swim, Finnick was sitting beside you, fingers weaving dried palm leaves into the mat beneath you. A couple of weeks after you had first met, he had shown up one day holding it all rolled up in hand.

"Made this for you to sit on," he had said with a proud smile. "Took nearly all night and earned me a few good finger cramps, but I think it was worth it."

Pinpointing the exact moment your attraction to him first formed was tricky. However, that gesture was one your mind returned to often. That little palm-leaf mat, the time and effort he put into making it, was scored on your heart.

Finnick was very much a gentleman.

He would always offer you a hand when standing up and whenever you walked back through the overgrown seaside forest. Sometimes he picked fruits for you such as sea grapes and mangos or would climb one of the palms and knock down a few coconuts. One thing he always, always did wasmake sure you got home safe; he never let you out of his sight until you were safe inside your front door.

All those gestures, big and small, added up. Soon enough, Finnick Odair had infiltrated your heart and consumed all your thoughts. You saw his sea-green eyes staring back at you whenever you gazed out at the ocean by your house. Felt the ghost of his hands on yours whenever you picked a grape from the kitchen fruit bowl. Heard his voice calling out your name in your most vivid of dreams.

But there was more to it than innocent adoration.

The guilt came when your gaze started lingering on his body a little too long whenever he left the water at the beach. Shimmering droplets would glide down his beautifully tanned skin; his arm muscles would flex as his fingers raked back his dripping wet hair. It wasn't yourfault he was the walking definition of perfection.

Unholy was the closest word to describe the filthy thoughts that had perverted your imagination. What started as endearing daydreams soon became fantasies that had you seeking relief between your thighs late at night. Your thoughts went wild whenever he dropped you off at your house. It took everything in you not to invite him inside and ask him to fuck you senseless against the front door.

All you had to do was ask. You knew he would say yes.

A year is a long time to know someone. A long time for feelings to grow. It also serves as a lot of time for things to happen between two people—things that linger in your mind even months after they have happened.

Like the times he would walk by you and teasingly whisper something provocative in your ear, then disappear for an hour of swimming, leaving you all hot and flustered in the sand. Neither of you would acknowledge it when he returned. Or when conversations took such a flirtatious turn, the tension only dissipated when houses were separating you at the end of the night.

But that's just what friends do, right? They tease and banter?

Maybe.

However, not all things could be chalked up to being just friends.

Another thing about Finnick's eyes was that they were transparent. You saw how helplessly they clung to you the days you stripped to your underwear and joined him in the water. He had this sort of reaction that turned his eyes into a dark violent sea, like you were some divine temptation planted to test the strength of his resolve.

Sometimes he could resist. Other days it was obvious he couldn't help but reach out and touch.

He would try to be subtle about it. Hands holding yours a little longer than necessary when he helped you stand up. Sitting too closely beside you so that your arms and legs would graze against each other. Brushing off pieces of seaweed that would stick to the dip of your waist and then constantly using the same excuse just to feel the heat of your soft skin.

There was one interaction, though, that you fell asleep to the thought of every night. It was a moment when things almost went too far; an interaction friends definitely did not share.

You could remember it clear a day. Hell, you could still feel it clear as day.

It was a hot summer evening. Both you and Finnick were at the beach and swimming in the water since being in the muggy coastal heat for more than five minutes was parallel to roasting in a thousand-degree sauna.

You were about twenty meters offshore, bobbing beside Finnick as he dived to collect various seashells. That boy could hold his breath for an unbelievable amount of time which meant sometimes you spent minutes alone on the surface, waiting, listening to the calm waves lap eerily around you.

This is exactly how people die in shark movies, said an unwarranted voice in your mind.

As usual, a minute went by. Nothing to worry about. Then a minute turned into two and you were starting to become a little concerned. And then it was two and a half minutes and you were now panicking.

"Finnick?!" you called out, hoping he could somehow hear you from the dark depths.

Three minutes had totalled, and you were pretty certain he had drowned. Just to add to the utter dread coursing through your veins, something slimy brushed against your foot. Most likely a piece of seaweed, but you didn't make that connection at the time.

That very same moment, Finnick burst through the water's surface, only mildly breathless and pinching a small iridescent shell between his fingers.

"Look at thi—"

Before the words could leave his mouth, he found himself enveloped in your distraught embrace. Your face was buried in the crook of his neck, crying tears of relief. 

Damn that stupid seashell.

He automatically secured you in his arms, concern palpable in his voice as he asked, "Are you okay?"

You pulled away, an indistinguishable combination of tears and saltwater rolling down your cheeks. Though it was hard to miss the look of distress found in your furrowed brows and trembling lips.

"Don't ever do that to me again!" you exclaimed, gripping his arms to emphasise your urgency. "You hear me?! Ever!"

Finnick's head tilted slightly, surprised by your emotional reaction. He hadn't realised he meant so much to you. The surprise faded into remorse, softening his features.

"I won't. I won't, I promise," he said sincerely. His eyes flickered over the worry lines etched on your forehead. He unconsciously brushed his thumb over the lines, hoping to draw out the anxiety with his touch, and then tucked away a strand of hair. "I'm sorry I scared you."

You took in a deep, shuddering breath in an attempt to compose yourself. A mess of emotions stirred inside you—worry, embarrassment, irritation. You were partially frustrated with Finnick for making you fear for his life. Mostly annoyed with yourself for showing such vulnerability in front of him.

"God, you're an idiot sometimes," you sighed, shaking your head.

He smirked. "Didn't think you cared so much about me."

"No, you just don't think, Finn."

He glanced off into the distance for a moment with furrowed brows. "Well, that's definitely not true," he countered, meeting your gaze again with a half-smirk. "I think about a lot of things, actually."

"Oh? Like what?" you asked, slightly annoyed. "Do tell me what the great Finnick Odair thinks about instead of his own safety."

Slowly, the smirk faded from his lips. Something new tinged the atmosphere and suddenly everything around you seemed hotter than it previously was. Not an uncomfortable or sweltering heat, but one that held an intensity that sparked the air with electricity.

You suddenly became very aware that Finnick was still holding you in his arms. You recognised the confined proximity between you and him and realised that, before this moment, your bodies had never been so close.

Your legs were curled around his hips, pelvis pressed firmly against his. The position of his hands, which were keeping you afloat, was bordering on inappropriate but would only be deemed as such if you cared. Which you didn't. You liked it—having his hands on you.

One thing you couldn't ignore was the flickering of his gaze. How his eyes kept dropping to your lips. How they blatantly revealed a long-awaited confession that words just couldn't capture. Still, you wanted to hear him say it. You wanted to hear the purr in his voice as he told you.

Then he was leaning in. You weren't sure whether it was on purpose or if the pure magnetism of the tension between you was drawing him closer. Regardless, you started to lean in closer too, eyes drooping as you focused on his mouth.

And before the short distance between your lips and his became immeasurable, you whispered, "Tell me, Finn."

The hands keeping you afloat trailed up and down your back restlessly as Finnick forced a tense exhale through his nose. He seemed to be wrestling with thoughts. You waited in anticipation, and right when it seemed like he was going to make a move—

"I think..."

—you were interrupted. By no less than a pod of dolphins as they leapt from the water, causing you and Finnick to jolt from each other's embrace.

The rest of that evening was not worth mentioning. Not because you had forgotten what happened, but because the sheer awkwardness between you and Finnick afterwards was so torturous that you wanted to keep the memory squashed in the recesses of your mind. Neither of you acknowledged what happened. Finnick still walked you home, but it was done so in agonising silence.

Surprisingly, you both returned to the beach the next day. You hadn't expected him to be his usual upbeat self, but he was. So, in turn, you too acted like the previous day was erased from history. But your friendship with him was never the same.

Flirty conversations no longer felt like a joke; they now had a deeper meaning. Fleeting touches caused full-body goosebumps that didn't happen before. There was so much unresolved tension, and it was painfully thick. Inescapable.

So, as Finnick sat beside you present-day, weaving dried palm leaves into the mat beneath your bodies, you couldn't help but notice the transparency of your body language and his. The gap between you both was comparable to the size of a pearl and even though neither of you acknowledged it, you kept catching each other stealing quick glances every half-minute or so.

When you were sure he wasn't looking, you found your gaze drawn to his fingers. They were sturdy, yet nimble; curling and manoeuvring in ways that had your face feeling hotter than the heat of any sunburn or warm summer's day. This heat was beneath your skin. Spreading through your limbs in little tendrils and wrapping around your nerves. A dip in the salty sea wouldn't cool you down nor would a gulp of cold fresh water.

As you stared at his hands, you knew only the source of the sensation could offer reprieve. But that wouldn't happen, so there you burned.

The fact that he was shirtless and that his hair was a gorgeous mess of damp bronze curls helped not one bit with taming the consuming desire inside you. God, you were a mess yourself.

You sighed.

The sun, glowing intensely with a divine orange, was beginning its descent on the horizon. Your feet were buried beneath the soft sand, trying to retain some warmth as a slight breeze blew against your exposed skin.

Wearing a short sundress probably wasn't the most practical idea. Embarrassing as it was to admit, practicality wasn't what was going through your mind when you decided to wear it... Someone—Something else was.

"Something on your mind?" Finnick asked suddenly.

Your heart fumbled in your chest, terrified that he had somehow heard your thoughts. "Sorry?"

"You sighed," he said, turning his head to look at you. "Or am I just getting so old that I'm already starting to hear things?"

With relief of his lack of mind-reading abilities, you laughed softly. "You're definitely getting a bit old, Finn," you teased. "Any nursing homes you've been considering?"

"I heard retirement by the sea has its perks," he quipped, subtle dimples present as he returned to his weaving. "Although, I will need someone to make sure I don't fall asleep while swimming and get carried out by the tide. What d'you say, sweetheart? Up for becoming my personal lifeguard?"

Absolutely. "Depends. Will you force me to wear one of those awful flowery swimming caps with a matching tankini?"

He clicked his tongue in disapproval. "I'm thinking more like those little red bodysuits. You know, the ones that zip open down the front?"

You reprimanded him by pushing his shoulder, wearing a betraying smile. "Very charming."

"I just think red's your colour, that's all," he laughed.

Your stomach fluttered. You knew he was teasing you; teasing was basically the foundation of your... friendship. Deep down, you knew there was also some truth behind his words. A truth that was as electrifying as it was upsetting—how long were you both going to keep up with this whole 'friends' charade? Could you handle it if the answer was forever?

Best not to think about it. For your sanity's sake.

Finnick finally settled into a comfortable position with his forearms locked around his bent knees, apparently having decided to continue his mat-weaving another time. He had been extending it bit by bit ever since he first made it for you. At this point, you were sure he was attempting to cover the entire beach. For now, it was only big enough for two people to lie down on.

Sounds pretty convenient, came an abrupt thought.

And then you fell down yet another rabbit hole of depraved daydreams... A pair of hands interlocking your own above your head. Hot lips pressing kisses to your neck. Tongue gliding up the sensitive skin of your jugular. Your fingers tugging at bronze curls between your thighs.

You were sick. Diseased with immorality. Finnick was your friend. If not your best friend. You're not supposed to fantasise about fucking your best friend.

"Thinking about anyone in particular?"

You almost choked on your saliva. "W—What?" 

How did he keep doing that?

Finnick seemed to find joy in your perplexity. It was written all over his face. God, those fucking dimples. "You've been completely still for nearly five minutes and your legs are covered in goosebumps," he pointed out. "Hence the question: who are you thinking about?"

As you looked down, you found that your skin was in fact riddled with goosebumps. It didn't occur to you then that the only reason he could have noticed was if he was staring at your legs in the first place. It also didn't occur to you that Finnick obviously had the very same debauched thoughts running through his own mind.

Why did you have to wear such a revealing dress? He already struggled enough with resisting you at the best of times.

If you had been paying attention, a simple glance in his direction would have revealed how his ears were pink and his pupils were dilated. More importantly, you would have seen his legs constantly shifting to ease the discomfort tenting his pants. Fortunately, he had mastered the art of winding himself down in a short amount of time.

Unfortunately for you, that ability was not within your skill set.

You scoffed. "In case you haven't noticed, Finnick—it's autumn," you said, a quick snappy lilt in your tone. "I know you've got some weird internal space heater built into you, but normal people tend to have a reaction to the cold."

Well, it's a good thing you didn't sound defensive...

Finnick raised an eyebrow at you, displaying a puzzled half-smirk that spoke a thousand words.

You lowered your head in embarrassment, grinning sheepishly. "Sorry," you murmured. "I just, uh, don't really like the cold."

"Who could've guessed."

Despite serving as an excuse, it wasn't entirely untrue. You really did dislike the cold. And it was now that you seriously regretted your choice of sparse attire. The breeze kept blowing up the dress's skirt, threatening to expose your dignity to the world. Or more accurately, to Finnick. Thankfully, you had decided to wear a pair of delicate lace underwear that morning instead of old granny panties.

Nevertheless, now that it was on your mind, you couldn't think about anything but the cold gusts of wind blowing against you. Chills ran over your skin and you were shaking like a leaf.

Finnick, being the gentleman that he was, scanned the surrounding area for anything he could use to keep you warm. He would've given you his shirt had it not been crumpled in a ball of wet sand on the ground.

There was nothing else of use. Nothing except a single apprehensive idea sitting in the forefront of his mind. It was all he had. He bit the inside of his cheek as he contemplated the potentially disastrous idea.

Then, after taking a silent deep breath, he finally said, "Come here then." Your eyes snapped to his. You must've looked like you had seen a ghost because his brows knitted together in confusion. "What?" he breathed out a chuckle. "I'd prefer not having to carry you home as a block of ice."

You thought about it for a moment. Was it really such a good idea after the thoughts that were just swarming in your mind? Another gust of wind blew by and you instinctively wrapped your arms around yourself.

"I won't bite, sweetheart. Not unless you want me to," he added.

You rolled your eyes. "Oh, shut up."

With that, you slid across the mat, positioning your body, which was still facing the sunset, in front of his legs. There was a moment of hesitation. Anxiety. But before you could reconsider, Finnick wrapped a strong arm around your middle and pulled you back against his chest, situating your body between his legs.

The exhale that left your lips was instantaneous and you couldn't help but shudder at the warmth of his skin. "God," you sighed, overwhelmed by the sudden change in temperature. "How are you so warm all the time?"

"Oh, you know. Weird internal space heater."

You laughed softly, then felt Finnick's chest vibrate against your back as he joined you. His bare arms wound tighter around you, motivated by the affectionate atmosphere. Your body seemed to melt into the cocoon of warmth he provided, and a soft smile graced your lips.

"Better?" he asked.

You nodded, responding with a whisper, "Thank you."

"Anytime."

You could hear the smile in his voice and how intently he was trying to hide it. You wished you could have seen it. To see the sense of peace you shared. However, feeling it in the way he held you was enough.

Instead of blood, your heart now seemed to be pumping out rather odd alternatives—waves of sea-green salted ocean, iridescent seashells, smiles paired with heart-stopping dimples. How could he? How could Finnick condemn you to loving him like this? So unwaveringly; so without a hope of ever being able to return to life without him in it.

He made a mess of you. A ruin. And even with wholesome affection running through your veins, you still couldn't ignore the hazy images conjuring in your mind from the way his body was pressed firmly behind you.

How could he?

The sun had just touched the horizon, granting the sky a few more minutes of light, meaning it was almost time to head home—an upsetting reality. You weren't sure how much time had passed before your body started to ache from lack of movement.

You wiggled your toes which were buzzing like television static. The feeling started moving up your legs and you knew if you didn't stretch, you would later embarrass yourself trying to stand on dead legs. So that is what you did. You started moving.

First, you stretched out the muscles in your legs and then moved onto straightening your back against Finnick's chest, feeling the faint pops of your spine offer you relief. And then you started readjusting your position and wriggling your hips to fit more comfortably between Finnick's toned thighs. That was your first mistake.

"Stop moving."

You were taken aback by the rigid inflection in his tone. "What?" you asked, ignoring his warning and continuing your restless movements.

"Stop. Moving," Finnick repeated, sounding more strained.

His hold on you became stiff. Completely frozen.

You were confused. Everything was perfect a moment ago, and all you were doing was stretching—why was he being so weird and snappy?

In response, you exhaled sharply. "I'm just trying to get comf—"

"Fuck," he breathed out.

Your eyes widened and it was safe to say your stomach had flipped inside out.

That was the moment you finally realised your second mistake. The rigidness in his voice wasn't him being snappy with you at all. Not even close. He was just trying to prevent the pleasure he felt below from reaching his vocal cords.

But it was too late. It wouldn't have mattered if he managed to keep quiet because you could feel it now. The achingly hard length that was pressed against your backside, reaching all the way up to your tailbone.

"...Oh," you whispered.

"Yeah," Finnick said. "Oh."

Now it was your turn to freeze. Fear consumed you, similar to what you imagined having to remain motionless in front of tyrannosaurus rex to prevent from being eaten alive was like. Thanks to the damning wind, strands of your hair blew behind your shoulders, undoubtedly tickling the exposed skin of Finnick's chest. Even that minuscule movement had your heart threatening to explode with anxiety.

As per usual, panic wreaked havoc in your mind.

What do I do? Do I get up? How will we come back from this? Does he—

Finnick cleared his throat. "Uh, you still alive in there?" he chuckled nervously.

You felt minor relief enter your bloodstream upon hearing the normality in his voice. At least one of you was composed enough to act normally. Well, as normal as one could act after becoming hard due to their best friend sitting in their lap.

"Is it—" You swallowed the nerves rattling your voice "—is it because there's a girl sitting on your lap, or is it because it's me?"

That was the million-dollar question. Was his reaction simply biological? A natural response to stimulation? Or was it deeper than that? More personal.

Finnick was silent.

The rapid thumping in your chest moved to your ears, like a drumroll leading up to some grand reveal. You felt dizzy; both filled with dreadful anticipation and exhilaration. Your senses were so heightened, fuelled by an inane bout of adrenaline. You swore you could almost hear the gears turning in Finnick's mind, smell the smoke as they rotated over and over, trying to make sense of your question and form a suitable response.

Religion never played a factor in your life, but, oh, how you were zealously praying his answer would be the one you spent all your nights fantasising about. But still, he was silent.

And right when you believed he wasn't going to respond at all, his lips finally uttered that single life-changing word. "You."

Fireworks seemed to light up every nerve in your body. You.

You weren't sure what to make of your thoughts at first. The overwhelming abundance of emotion caused by a singular word was difficult to fathom. Only one sentiment stood out from the rest—and that was the fact that Finnick felt the same as you did for him.

It was no longer a speculation. It was a fact. A truth. An undeniable reality. You had both verbal and physicalproof, literally digging into your backside.

Finnick slowly, very slowly, unwound an arm from your torso, and you held your breath. His hand slid across your waist and then plastered itself over your hipbone, careful not to apply too much pressure to make you feel uncomfortable. When you felt the slight movement of his thumb gliding across your clothed skin, you exhaled the burning air in your lungs with a shaky sigh.

"Do you want me to get up?" you asked softly while staring at the sunset, although you were focused on anything but.

"Not a chance." And then he unwound the other arm, now cupping both sides of your hips with two large hands. The heat from his palm sank into your skin, sinking deeper layer by layer until it reached the rapid flow of your bloodstream. "Do you want to get up?"

You felt a pulsing sensation between your thighs that had your parted lips inhaling slow deep breaths, and you knew the only logical answer was no. So, you shook your head.

Finnick reached up to skilfully tuck a lock of hair behind your ear before placing his hand back on your hip. He then leaned down beside your ear, voice a hot, velvety whisper, "What next then, sweetheart?"

A wave of chills ran down your entire body.

What next? Another question for the ages. You had dreamt of this moment a million times over. You had pictured the unholiest, most vivid of scenarios, and yet here you were, mind blank as an empty void.

Then it hit you. Rather than acting from a pre-planned script, wouldn't it be better to just let your body act on what it naturally desired? On instinct? You took in a deep, stabilising breath and gave yourself into moment.

You slowly began turning your head to the side until, for the first time since he pulled you into his arms, your eyes flickered up and found Finnick's. His lips quirked with the ghost of a smile at the exchange, but he held it back. His jaw clenched and unclenched, muscles ticking with tension.

He was looking at you in a way you had never seen before. Or perhaps, you were just never close enough to notice, and he had always looked at you this way. There was a blazing intensity in his eyes, dark and penetrative, a bridge between yearning and total reverence. It was so enticing that you could feel your hands itching to undress yourself in front of him.

Finnick murmured your name.

"Yes?" you managed to whisper.

"Do you have any idea how long I've waited for this?"

Those words—he had stolen them from the tip of your tongue.

You couldn't find the strength to muster any profound response. So instead, you found your head tilting back and the crook of your elbow winding up and around the nape of his neck. You didn't need to guide him down; he came willingly.

His lips caught yours in a soft, warm exchange. Singular yet prolonged. Then there was a brief pause of disconnection, a calm before the storm. And with Finnick, when it rained, it poured. Suddenly, a hand was cupping the area where your jaw and neck connected, and his lips were on yours again.

There was so much more heat in this kiss. A depth that kept growing with each connection of your lips. You could hear the fervour in the breathless exhales that exited his nose, the quiet groans that slipped into your mouth. Though the same could be said for you.

You couldn't subdue the moans and meek whimpers that leaked out. Especially when his tongue slipped into your mouth and took control over your own. At this point, you couldn't even be called putty in his arms; you were pure liquid, totally and completely submissive in his embrace.

It was impossible to tell who was throbbing beneath you anymore. All you were sure of was that the pretty lace panties you had put on that morning were now soaked. Though even if he never touched you, you wouldn't have cared. Having his lips on yours, his tongue on yours, was enough. And if he kept at it long enough, you were sure it would even be enough to get you off. That's how much power Finnick had over you.

Apparently, he felt the same too. Because when you leaned further back into him and your ass pushed against the length of his erection, his fist scrunched the fabric of your dress by your hip and his lips left yours to let out a shuddering breath.

"Fuck, sweetheart," he huffed, half chuckling.

Technically, it was a suppressed moan. Either way, you swear you almost came then and there.

With one last gentle kiss, you opened your eyes, pulling away to replenish your lungs with air. Finnick's eyes were already locked on yours in a drunken haze from the taste of your lips. Your arm unwound from his neck, grazing down his broad shoulders and bicep. During so, your eyes caught on the tiny bumps and raised hair scattered across his arm.

"You've got goosebumps," you smiled, trailing your fingertips across his skin.

His gaze moved to follow your hand, wearing a boyish grin. "Would you believe me if I said I was cold?"

Your throat buzzed with a suppressed giggle. Seeing the way his body reacted to yours was incredibly motivating. Someone telling you they lusted after you could easily be spoken with deception. But having visual confirmation, witnessing a reaction that couldn't possibly be forced, was a whole different story. Finnick's body craved you.

Given that incentive, the slight trepidation still holding you back now disappeared into the back of your mind. Your fingers curled around his wrist, dragging the hand beneath your jaw down to your neck, and then down to your chest. It didn't take him too long to figure out your intentions. He overtook your influence and autonomously moved his hand to cup your breast.

You were essentially caged in his embrace. Exactly how you wanted it.

You stared ahead with relaxed eyes, watching as the sun slipped into the dark water. Night had officially blanketed District Four and, now being shielded by darkness, the stars were your only witness. Strangely enough, you felt a new sense of shamelessness.

So as Finnick kneaded your breast in his warm hand and pinched the sensitive peak of your nipple between his thumb and forefinger through the lace of your bra, you allowed a soft moan to escape your lips.

It was almost as if you could actually feel the smirk growing across Finnick's lips behind you. One thing you actually could feel was the twitch of his achingly hard cock beneath you.

"You like that?" he asked, definitely smirking.

"Yes," you sighed almost immediately.

If only he knew how truly euphoric you felt. If only he knew how many times you had imagined being in this exact situation. Having him touching you like this. The guilt of imagining him in such a way used to eat you up. But now that you were past the guilt, there was no shame connected to the thought of Finnick eating you up.

Fuck, he would look so perfect between your thighs—bronze curls all messed up from your pulling and tugging; sea green eyes squeezed shut as he dedicated his attention to dragging you down to the pits of hell with his tongue.

Your head fell back against his collarbone. He took this as a signal to move your hair aside and start planting hot kisses onto the curve of your shoulder. Then he trailed further across, brushing his lips across your skin until he reached the side of your neck and started sucking gently, though enough to leave behind pretty little red marks of possession.

"What about this?" he murmured against the delicate skin.

The faint taste of sea-salted air sat in the back of your throat as your breaths deepened. You felt his tongue glide partially up the length of your carotid artery, and your entire nervous system seemed to short-circuit.

"Yes,"you practically whined.

He must have found this amusing because you could feel the vibrations of his chuckle against your neck. But he wasn't finished yet. Hell, the finish line was a lifetime away regarding the things he planned on doing to you. They probably couldn't all be done in one night though, unfortunately.

You had completely forgotten about the hand still splayed on your hip. Why would you pay it any attention when it was sitting idle? Only it wasn't simply resting on your hip anymore. No. Now it was moving. Moving down.

His lips were still on your neck and he was still cupping your breast, but all you could focus on was the carnal descent of his hand. He found the hem of your dress, fingers toying with the flimsy material as one did when deciding whether or not to go through with something potentially consequential. Ultimately, he began to drag the fabric up your thighs, knuckles grazing over your soft skin until the skirt of your dress was ruched around your hips.

You sucked in a sharp breath. The vulnerability of suddenly being exposed in such a manner hit you like a tonne of bricks. This was really happening. Finnick, the Capitol's darling, District Four's golden boy, and more significant;y, your best friend, was touching you. He was kissing you. He was seeing and feeling parts of your body you had never let him see or feel before.

Naturally, this unfurling web of thoughts produced a surge of insecurity.

But, when his hand curled around your inner thigh and spread a wildfire of warmth across your skin, every thought that was previously passing through your mind disintegrated and was replaced with unadulterated yearning.

Finnick's mouth finally detached from your neck to hover beside your ear. "And this?"

He lightly kneaded your thigh to emphasise his question, dangerously close to the place that undoubtedly crossed the boundary between friend and lover.

You were speechless. The desire running through your veins was paralysing. All you could do was look, see, feel, and hope to god you didn't pass out from the shallowness of your breathing.

"Come on, sweetheart," he roused in that low, seductive purr. "Don't go quiet on me now. Use your words."

And how could you ever disobey a voice like that? It took every ounce of strength and concentration you had in you, but eventually, you managed to find your voice.

"I—" You cut yourself off with a gasp as his thumb purposefully wandered up to the edge of your underwear. Asshole. "I lie awake every night imagining us like this, Finn. You don't need permission to touch me. You've already had it for months."

Suddenly, a gentle finger was turning your chin, compelling you to meet Finnick's gaze. His eyes lacked the intensity from before and were now brimming with awe, brows knitted as if he was asking for confirmation if what you had said was truthful. And it was, painfully so.

To answer his wordless question, you leaned forward and connected your lips with his. He responded with ardency, and not long after, you could feel his hand wander up to the waistband of your panties. 

He wasted not a second before dipping his hand beneath the lace material and finding that sensitive spot that had been begging for his attention.

Your lips separated from his to let out a breathy moan. "Finnick."

He simply smiled, two fingers rubbing circles around your clit. He pressed gentle coaxing kisses to your lips, and you really did try to respond, but you were never one for multitasking. Especially when the man you had fallen in love with was touching you so.

His other hand wandered across your torso, holding your waist, grazing over your stomach, tracing the length of your sternum. All very loving adorations compared to what his other hand was doing.

"I think I'm going to hell because of you," he murmured, millimetres away from your lips. Such a disconcerting thing for someone to admit, but all you could manage was a hum in response. "Every time I see you, I can feel myself getting closer and closer. You derange my thoughts, sweetheart. You corrupt them.

How am I supposed to be around you if I want to fuck you every time you say my name? And what makes it so much more impossible is that you don't even mean to make me feel this way; you just do. God, you're maddening. So sweet and maddening," he cooed, fingers picking up in pace which caused you to melt back into his chest and let out a pretty little moan. "Drives me crazy."

"And to think," you managed, "I thought you had your hands between my legs because you hated me."

Your hips were rolling lightly along with the rhythm of his fingers.

At the very same time Finnick's thighs tensed around your hips from the friction against his cock, he abruptly plunged two fingers inside you. Punishment.

The moan you let out was positively filthy.

"Such an attitude you have," he said. "Anyone would think you're completely innocent in a dress like this. But I know better than that." His fingers slid in and out, curling every time the base of his fingers bottomed out inside of you. "I know exactly why you wore it. Just like I know exactly why you wore those lace panties you pretend that I can't see whenever you bend over."

Heat crept up into your cheeks from hearing his words. You wanted to provoke him by saying 'And look where it got me'but who knew how his fingers would respond to your attitude.

"You can't do that to a man," he continued. "It's criminal."

"It's only fair, Finn," you breathed out, struggling to keep your voice level. "You ruined me."

A deep moan rumbled in his chest, though it never escaped. He couldn't break that easily. He needed to remain in control. This moment, to him, seemed like an eternity forthcoming. He needed to make the most of this moment with you, needed to show you what it was like to receive earth-shattering pleasure so that you only ever wanted to receive it from him. No one else.

Despite his obvious attempts at keeping himself in check, you could still feel his thick impatient cock twitch beneath your ass. Even through the layers of clothing between you, you could tell that he was incredibly big. So much so that it worried you a little. Only, when his fingers curled again, you forgot all about it.

The pads of his fingertips buried into your inner walls with every curl. The heel of his palm struck your clit with every thrust of his fingers and you could feel your stomach start tightening. Fuck, he was amazing at this.

It had been so long since someone had touched you like this. Well, someone that was actually good at it. Just a few minutes and Finnick was already about to make you come.

"Feels so good, so—ah—good!" you moaned, eyes fluttering shut.

He reached a free hand up to your breast, lightly pinching your nipple between his fingers until you let out a gasp. At least one of you was good at multitasking.

"You gonna come?" he asked, not that he even needed an answer. He could feel the way your walls were contracting around his fingers, feel the sticky warmth of your slick leaking onto his knuckles.

You nodded fervently.

"Say please first."

"Finn," you whined in frustration.

You could hear him chuckle self-satisfyingly behind you. "Come on, baby. Sweet girls are supposed to have manners, aren't they?"

His low, husky voice almost threw you over the edge. Oh, how you would love to listen to the sound of him talking you through your orgasm. That is if he ever even let you get to that point.

Never had you ever thought you would be pleading with a man for anything, yet here you were. Though, Finnick Odair could hardly be called a man. He was so much more than that; he was bordering on divinity. And you weren't going to miss the chance of being unravelled at the hands of a divine being.

"Please, Finnick," you begged, your body literally buzzing with desperation. "Please make me come."

He pressed a kiss below your earlobe. "Since you asked so nicely."

His fingers picked up in pace. They weren't even plunging in and out anymore but were rather curling, over and over again in that electrifying spot inside you. He went hard and fast, working to bring you to your high as quickly as possible. Your moans were so unrestrained, so breathless and shallow that you started to feel the world spin around you.

Your hand flew back to hold onto his arm, nails digging into the hard muscles of his bicep. Your hips were writhing in Finnick's lap and you could hear him groan out a string of curses. He held you down by the hip to try and keep you still, then moved across to the bottom of your abdomen where he pressed down.

That is what did it for you.

You cried out as tightness spread down your stomach and pure ecstasy took control. Finnick murmured words of praise and reassurance as you rode through your high, though a lot of it didn't register in your mind. You heard only a few bits and pieces which were enough to prolong the feeling that was overwhelming your entire body.

"Taking it so well."

"That's it, sweetheart. That's it."

"Such a good girl."

As the waves of pleasure slowly began to subside, you returned to reality. The heat that had been building up inside you started melting away, leaving you in a state of relaxation. Your fingers, which previously clung onto Finnick's arm, now grazed absentmindedly across his skin. It felt like you had been sucked into a dream—a little hazy and surreal, but incredibly tranquil.

"You okay?" Finnick asked softly.

You hadn't even noticed that his fingers had left your body. He had pulled down the hem of your dress— not that your dignity really needed saving anymore—and was holding your melted figure in his arms.

"Mm," you hummed contently, eyes fixed on the view in front of you. "Warmed up."

If only you were able to see his face, his smile. Those dimples. A powerful longing to be able to see every expression known to man morph his facial features washed over you. It was a little ridiculous how attracted to him you were. Nonetheless, you indulged the desire.

You pushed yourself from his lap and pivoted to face him

You were straddling his lap before any ounce of hesitation could hold you back. Finnick circled his arms around your waist, pulling you closer into his chest. He was smiling. He was smiling and it was even more beautiful than any sunset you had ever witnessed. You concluded that you had definitely made the right choice in deciding to face him.

"Hi," you whispered.

He smiled. "Hey, stranger."

He brushed back a few pieces of hair from your face, observing the blown size of your pupils and the sultry colour of your lips. He did that—he could not get over the fact that he did that to you. Finally.

You shrunk away from his gaze, a timid smile on your lips.

Finnick tilted his head slightly. "Shy thing."

You buried your face into the side of his neck, groaning quietly in embarrassment. You could hear the perfect sound of him laughing above you. He stroked the length of your spine, somehow managing to ease the nerves from your body with a simple touch. You left a quick kiss on the warm skin of his neck and rose back up to meet his gaze.

"Feeling better?"

"Much," you replied, sheepishly. Your eyes flickered across Finnick's, hesitated, and then gestured downwards. "But... you're not." His head tilted as though he were confused as to what you were suggesting, so you leaned in closer until your lips ghosted over his. "Still need to take care of you."

A breath of warm air fanned across your face as he chuckled. He shook his head. "It's alright. I can hold off for another time."

And although the prospect of doing this again another time was downright exhilarating, you couldn't ignore the palpable heat still lingering in your lower stomach, throbbing between your thighs. You could only imagine how he must have been feeling—cock throbbing with a need for relief, though ready to deny himself the same amount of pleasure he just gave you.

You suddenly curled a hand around the back of his neck and brought him into a slow kiss. To show him he was allowed to indulge himself. That you wanted him to. You ground your hips down on his lap and felt his lips falter against yours.

You pulled back and echoed your previous words, "It's only fair, Finn."

Time seemed to pause for a moment. Your breath and his mixed with one another in a sort of hot whirlwind of anticipation. Your bodies were still. Finnick's eyes were half-lidded staring at your mouth.

Then came the explosion.

His hands were hastily tugging your sundress over your head; his lips were on yours as he reached down between your bodies to unbutton his pants. It felt like a race against time. Like if you didn't do this now, the chance would never come by again. Hell, his pants hadn't even made it off his legs before he was holding himself in his hand and you were rising to your knees, positioning yourself directly above his length.

Your lips never left his, strenuous as it was, meaning the only gauge you got of how big he was wasn't from seeing it, but from feeling it as you pulled your panties aside, guided his cock to your entrance with one hand, and felt the entire veiny length of him fill you completely as you lowered yourself onto him.

A quiet, synchronised gasp left both your lips as you enveloped him completely in wet velvety warmth. His pelvis was connected with yours and his cock was pressed right up against your cervix. So incredibly deep, you could almost feel him in your stomach.

You stayed like this for a few seconds.

"So big," you gasped against his lips.

His hands were on your back, dragging up and down. "Want to stop?"

"Never."

This was so not what friends did.

He trailed kisses from your mouth, to your jaw, and down to your neck. You were grinding sinuously back and forth, Finnick's hands now on your hips as a guide, feeling his tip bury into the sensitive walls inside you. Your head fell back with a gratified moan as he nipped your neck unforgivingly, only to soothe the spots he marked with the glide of his tongue.

At that moment, the past and future were of no significance. The idea that doing this might ruin your relationship with him afterwards didn't concern you. You didn't bother recollecting a time when you and Finnick were merely friends, nor did you ponder how you even managed to reach this point.

All you could focus on was how fucking perfect his cock felt inside of you.

The cold, which was previously a nuisance, now served as a stimulant to your nipples which were only covered by the thin unpadded material of your lace bra. They were bouncing with every movement you made, the hard peaks rubbing against Finnick's chest and creating a triangle of pleasure between them and the depravity that was happening further below.

He was so hungry in the way he kissed you. His lips were soft, but they moved with heat and determination. His tongue was supple as it pushed against yours, moving masterfully in a way you could only compare to how he swam in the ocean. A conqueror—able to bring you into submission with ease.

You pushed yourself upwards, the muscles in your thighs slightly burning as you did so, and felt his cock glide through you. He inhaled harshly through his nose when his tip almost left your wet heat, and then groaned into your mouth when your hips sunk back down, engulfing him once again.

"Shit," he almost whined as your walls clenched around him. "I fuckinglove you."

You pulled away to look him in the eyes. It was incredibly difficult for you to contemplate his words—his confession—when he was, what, eight or so inches deep inside you?

He didn't look like he regretted saying it. He was simply staring at you with raised brows pinched together in pleasure, awaiting your response as you continued your sequence of rising and sinking to fill yourself up with his cock.

"You love me?" you asked in a laboured breath. He only nodded in response. You sank fully down onto his lap, discontinuing your movements, willing him to prove his so-declared devotion. "Then show me."

He was breathing heavily and watching you through strands of sea-salted hair messily splayed across his forehead. He was so beautiful it actually kind of hurt to look at him. His eyes fell to your mouth during this brief amnesty, a decision prominent in his mind. Then he was rushing forward, crushing his lips to yours and forcing your body to lay back on the mat beneath you.

Finnick somehow managed to remain inside you as he switched your positions—him now above you as your legs were wrapped around his waist. His body pinned you down with a comfortable weight, skin warm and flush against yours.

He was overpowering and dominating, and his thrusts were laced with a sense of appropriation like he was making you his. The slow grinds of his hips were hard yet measured and so breathtakingly deep, and the gentle upwards curve of his cock made sure his tip was prodding against that swollen pleasure-inducing spot every single time.

His kisses were sensual and slow; his tongue slipping languidly into your mouth, swirling and massaging your tongue like it was made of pure silk.

You had told him what to do—now he was showing you. Finnick Odair wasn't fucking you. He was making love to you.

Your hands were on his back, fingertips leaving red marks on the curves of his shoulder blades. You moved up to his hair, scratching your nails softly into his scalp, which earned you a soft moan in your mouth. Even you could feel yourself pulsing around his cock. Everything he did, every sound and action he made, had your body yielding to him.

His hand pulled you up into him by the waist, arching your back off the palm-leaf mat so that he was thrusting more profoundly into that blissful spot inside you. He never sped up his pace. He didn't need to. He was savouring the moment as much as he could, memorising each warm ripple of your walls his cock glided over inside you, every intoxicating moan your soft lips released, the pressure of your warm supple thighs hugging his waist.

He was committing every aspect of you to memory. Inside and out.

Having that knowledge only made the moment so much more pleasurable. Knowing that he wasn't just thinking about you with his cock, but was thinking about you with his heart too.

That feeling started creeping up inside you—the blissful burn of heat pooling in your lower stomach. It made your walls flutter around him. Made you whine and moan uncontrollably into his mouth until you couldn't focus on kissing him anymore and had to pull away.

Your head fell back onto the mat, hair strewn out around you. The sounds coming out of you were pure sin. Desperate, greedy sin.

Finnick chuckled adoringly above you. "Too fucked out, sweetheart?"

He couldn't exactly talk. The second you clenched around him again, he groaned out a curse and you—the parts of your mind that were still relatively comprehensible—were sure you could feel the warmth of pre-cum ooze inside you.

"Finnick," you mewled, and he caressed the baby hairs framing your face. "Feels so good. Should—should've done this sooner."

Through your half-lidded eyes, you watched as he nodded and then descended to your forehead, pressing his lips tenderly against your skin. I know, the gesture said. You felt a rush of affection flood through your body, ultimately accelerating the build-up happening inside you.

You could feel yourself teetering so impossibly close to the brink of your orgasm. The tightness inside you was so hot and overwhelming; it was a struggle for you to keep your eyes from fluttering shut and rolling back, though you willed yourself to keep them open. You had to.

Watching Finnick's face contort with pleasure as he's thrown into his own high from feeling your walls contract around him would probably be the highlight of your entire life.

"So beautiful," he cooed as he thrusted into you. "My sweet girl's gonna come, isn't she? Can feel it."

The words flew out of your mouth. "Come inside me."

"Come inside you?"

You were pretty sure he was mocking you from the devilish curve of his lips and furrow of his brows. But your lust-drunk brain didn't really care.

"Please. Wanna feel you—" Your chest heaved with each breath "—everywhere."

Finnick was so obviously trying to keep himself from giving in before you. But you could see how delirious his eyes were as they stared down at you and you heard how every low, gratified—frustratingly sexy—sound he made betrayed him. He was so close.

"Anything for you, sweetheart," he said, finally.

He managed to unhook your hands from around his back and guided them upwards, holding your wrists together above your head with one hand before he brought his other back to your waist. It was oddly romantic how he held you, given that he was fucking you like life after that night wasn't guaranteed.

And then, without warning, he was pounding into you, bottoming out completely with each thrust.

It was almost animalistic now—how you were both unable to control yourselves anymore. You were writhing beneath him, impulsively fighting against the grip he had on your wrists. And Finnick, well, he was fucking you so hard, you weren't sure if walking home that night would be a possibility.

He was a disaster of pleasured vocals, deep moans, and heavy breaths. You thanked the absolute heavens he was because it was the most beautiful sound you had ever heard in your entire life.

When your own moans started to rise in pitch, you knew you were done for. You felt so full. Stretched out to the max. Blinded by the heat that was drowning you. But your eyes managed to remain clear and locked on Finnick's the entire time, just as his were on yours.

With a fleeting glance downward, he once again placed a large hand over your abdomen and pushed down, and your back arched off the ground.

You were gone.

"Oh fuck!"

The heat, white and fiery, had consumed you. Your thighs tensed uncontrollably around Finnick, your body shaking beneath him as your insides pulsed all the way down to your stuffed entrance. White, sticky sweetness covered Finnick's cock as he continued to thrust into you, the wet sounds overpowering the waves cresting on the sands. It felt like fucking heaven.

He let out a moan, broken and breathless, and released the grip he had on your hands. In that short moment, you instantly gripped onto him, feeling his body shudder beneath your hands as his throbbing cock spurted out ropes of warmth deep inside you, the essence of both of you mixing inside your body, making you one.

You pulled him down and crushed your lips to his with a sudden intense urge to be as close to him as you could, if it were even possible to be any closer to him at that point. It felt a little spiritual, the way you practically wanted to merge your body with his. That's what having sex with someone you truly loved was like, you supposed.

The kiss was sloppy and messy, but it never lacked heat or affection. Lacking heat was impossible between you and Finnick.

A lot of time passed before either of you even contemplated pulling away from one another. Finnick was inside you for what must have been a good half hour after you had both finished. It felt close. Deeply intimate. He held you in his arms, his hands mapping out various parts of your body with unhurried measure as you lay beneath him, lazily yet affectionately making out with warm, reddened lips.

There were quiet giggles and heated words whispered between you that would have prompted another session had either of you been graced with the energy.

But it was late. The remnants of the sun had long since disappeared beneath the horizon, dimming the sky to a deep dark blue, the world's only source of illumination being the stars casting their sparkling light on the rippling water.

It was a new moon.

Eventually, you ended up laying over his chest, legs strewn across his as you both faced the ocean. Your head rose and fell with each breath Finnick took and it felt unreal. 

You were momentarily worried your infatuation with him had grown too out of hand and you had imagined the whole day, or perhaps, the entire time you had known him. That it was all a figment of your vivid imagination.

Then, his warm hand slid into your own, which was draped across his stomach, and you knew that this, the newfound relationship between you and Finnick, was undeniably and rapturously real.

He slowly lifted them together above your bodies, palms flat against one another. There was a notable size difference between them—his palm was large and calloused with long fingers that squared off at the tips, meanwhile, your own fist could probably fit into his palm.

Your fingers danced delicately together as you both watched from below. He traced the length of your fingers with his fingertips; followed the etches in your palm, and turned your hand to explore the protrusions of your knuckles. There was a certain gentle curiosity in his touch, similar to that of someone who was discovering the act of human connection for the first time.

"I don't know if I can walk home," you whispered.

Finnick lowered your interlocked hands to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to your knuckles before placing them back on his stomach. "I'll carry you."

"For an entire hour?"

"I'll manage," he said, "I've got muscles."

You scoffed quietly to yourself, smiling. "Ok, big strong man."

"Says the girl who needs to be carried home."

"Well, you are kind of the one to blame for that."

You tilted your head to glance up at him and found exactly what you were expecting to see. He was wearing a proud grin, all apple cheeks and crinkled eyes. It was something you had come to adore, even though sometimes it was out of arrogance.

Your head turned to rest back on his chest. You watched as his thumb caressed slow circles over your knuckle.

"What you said before," you began, "is it true? Do you really... love me?"

The heart beating beneath your ear genuinely sounded like it skipped a beat. You imagined that was a good sign, though your nerves were still a little frayed. What if he had only said it because of the heat of the moment?

A beat went by. "I've been trying to tell you ever since I first wove the mat for you," he confessed, his voice quiet yet holding the weight of the history that made up your friendship.

There it was—the truth laid bare. Despite hearing the words, it didn't really change anything. You suspected deep down you knew the entire time; you were just too self-doubting to accept it. To accept that Finnick Odair, the crown jewel of Panem, had fallen in love with you, an ordinary girl from District Four who just so happened to meet him at a secret beach.

Although, there was a sensation you remember upon first meeting him. That instinct that had told you to stay instead of running away, as any logical human being would do upon being approached by a stranger in the middle of nowhere. That instinct, despite sounding utterly ridiculous, caused you to believe that perhaps it was fate.

Maybe you were destined to meet. Maybe it didn't matter that he was a nationwide celebrity, nor you a simple town girl. Maybe your souls were entwined from the start and, one way or another, you would have met anyway.

Maybe.

"That's a long time," you said.

He laughed. "Yeah, well, I thought you would've gotten the hint by now."

And you couldn't help but join him. You thought you were the one who was deranged out of their mind. Here Finnick was telling you he had spent an entire year trying to confess his love without you even realising.

"I'm sorry it took me so long."

"It's alright," he said, earnestly. "I'd say it worked out pretty well. I mean, look where your obliviousness got us."

You smiled. Your legs were tangled with Finnick's; his arm was holding you tightly against his bare upper body, and his fingers were lovingly tracing over yours. Yeah, you were pretty grateful for your obliviousness sometimes. A new pair of underwear might have been something to consider, though.

A silence settled between you, comfortable, peaceful. Being in Finnick's embrace almost made you forget entirely about the reality of your existence—the Games, the dominion over Panem, the chaotic environment back home. It was the reason you had set off last year in search of a place away from society.

You had now found that the escape you were looking for wasn't a place or a hidden paradise, but a person. It was Finnick.

"Finn?"

"Yeah?"

The trees and palm leaves danced in the light breeze. Waves lapped on the shore.

You angled your head back to look at Finnick and felt him pull you closer. His expression was a picture of relaxation and contentment. His eyes gazed down at you, glimmering with the reflection of scattered stars in the night sky, just like the sea in front of you.

He seemed to already know what you were going to say. Always the mind reader.

"Say it, sweetheart." The corners of his lips twitched expectantly.

Sweetheart. Oh, how could you have ever felt for him in any other way?

"I love you too."

His face broke into one of the happiest smiles you had ever seen.

...roll credits

#when i tell y'all i went feral for finnick writing this #good lord #wife of all dilfs ✍️ #finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair smut #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair x fem!reader #finnick odair x y/n #finnick odair x you #thg finnick #the hunger games fanfiction #the hunger games #catching fire #mockingjay #mockingjay part 2 #sam claflin #the hunger games fanfic #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen #josh hutcherson

[kyumisyumi]

Tentacles and Tendrils

Shaking off the rust and giving monster smut(writing in general) a shot again.

Prompt: monster partner is in rut/heat and the partner has to deal with it

Rating: 18+

Monster type: M!Merfolk x F!Reader

Word count: 6k

~Taking requests~

     You stare out at the unending, blue horizon. The cool ocean breeze preparing you for the temperatures of its water as you linger along the edge. You wore the company certified diving gear: a wetsuit, mask, BCD, the works. A spear weighed down one hand while a cylindrical container weighed on your shoulder. Hope and pessimism fought to be at the forefront of your mind as you scan the empty waters with heavy disappointment. This area was always relatively vacant, but not too far off you can spot a duo entering the water with matching gear. Their actions take you out of your haze, and with another gauge check you finally approach the water. Getting a feel for the sea's surge, you make your way in. And with practiced hands you slipped on your fins before turning to greet the seas with outstretched arms.

     Beneath the blue your body instantly goes into autopilot. Swimming was as natural as walking and these seas might as well have been a second home; a wayward beauty that will switch it's mood at a moments notice but home nonetheless. You took it all in, familiar as it may be, the ocean never stopped being a sight to behold. A world beneath our own full of wonderful blues, outstretched greens and terrifying blacks. The current had a bit of force behind it but nothing near the cruelty you knew any large body of water could deal. Your darting eyes couldn't help but search around, scanning everywhere for even just a hint of... There! You moved with haste. As much as you could as a land dwelling animal in aquatic terrain. You didn't get far before the shape you eagerly chased revealed itself to be just a particularly thick and unruly swatch of seaweed. You sigh internally before resolving to begin your original task.

     Nearing a gorgeous station of coral, you couldn't help but linger and watch the busyness. Schools of varicolored, itty bitty fish swimming through the equally colorful pseudo-flora. Despite your love for marine life, you never quite learnt the names of all the little guys much less how to differentiate between them, say for a handful that stick out. Your interest was usually for the larger lifeforms mother nature had to offer; you smiled as you watched a wary grey eel eye you with suspicion. Soon your eyes fell upon your reason for being here. It's bright red colors were slightly muted by the depths, with white tiger stripes outlined by black to break up the pattern. Its form was lined with spines and frills that flowed and fluttered with each graceful swish of it's body; an absolutely gorgeous creature. You readied your spear. The black strap trigger pressed into your skin as you carefully aimed, hoping not to hit anything but the target. It helped that the lionfish lingered in one spot before you speared it. You moved to put it in the container before opting to offer it to the eel you saw earlier. As gorgeous - and delicious - as they were, these guys were invasive here and the effects of their persistence was a constant strain to the native wildlife. They seemed highly concentrated around this sandy patch of substrate, driftwood and dead coral. It didn't take long after the first few kills for one of your friends to make their way over. Gently, you caressed the top of the nurse shark eyeing your spare eagerly, this one you named Lisa... or maybe it was Madeline. It was no surprise your face blindness extended to animals as well, even the cute ones that made your dives feel a little less lonely. The creature began gliding and swirling around you. You liked to believe the fondness was mutual but it was equally likely they were just in it for a meal. You speared another lionfish and offered it to the grey and white cutie.

     The spot you were in. The shark. The scenario. It brought back the memory of the first time you saw him.

     Back then you were collecting lionfish, same as now with a duo of nurse sharks tailing your every movement. At the time you were overly cautious, so you'd sit in one place, removing the venomous spines of the fish before handing them over. You could see him out of the corner of your eye, he'd been there for quite a while, watching you. From his position partially behind the rocks, you'd think he was hiding -or rather, on the defensive- but you just can't imagine something that big and powerful hiding from tiny 'ol you. Yes you had a spear but you doubt it would do you much good if he decided to attack. Merfolk. Given your job at the Aquatic Wildlife Center you were relatively familiar with them. Your company was more than welcoming when programs were made for them- as well as the other species- who showed interest in coexisting during the realm migration. The Merfolk you were familiar with, however, had to undergo numerous lessons on etiquette and culture to live among humans. The one near you now... The word 'feral' came to mind. You didn't quite like using such an animalistic term towards something that looked a little too human, someone that you knew had equivalent intelligence. His skin was primarily muted greens with a burst of parchment white down his chest and undersides of his arms. Unlike the fish tails merfolk were known for, this one's body ended in a myriad of tentacles, not unlike an octopus. Height wasn't exactly something you could measure but in terms of body mass he was more than twice your own. He seemed to tense any time you held direct eye contact so you settled on keeping him in your peripheral and keeping your movements slow and measured. You're not sure what he wanted but if he was content to just watch you, you didn't mind.

     The next time you went out for a dive he'd made another appearance, this time resting on the rocks instead of behind them. Looking at the way his tentacles gently swayed against the current, you realise the way they'd writhed restlessly the day before may have been a sign of anxiety. It tickled you that somehow, in his mind, you were a threat to be worried about. You'd never even been in a proper fight. His relaxed demeanor gave you a bit of courage and you contemplated offering him one of the lionfish but ultimately chose not to. Doing so would feel as though you were treating him like an animal at the petting zoo. Then again, he was watching you like an animal at a regular zoo, keeping his distance as if he thought you'd lash out at any opportunity. You focused on the task at hand. Either the sharks had developed more patience or they were full from yesterday, this time they seemed more interested in dawdling around and getting pets than playing Russian roulette with your spear. You'd gotten into a rhythm of pull, aim, release as you moved slowly across the sandy substrate with him never too far behind.

     On the third day he was almost as close as the sharks were. There was still a respectful distance but you'd only have to reach out your hand to touch him. Despite your determination to hold strong as he approached there was a hint of fear in your eyes when he first got closer. He wasn't threatening but the size difference was all to blatant up close, his chest so broad and arms so thick you didn't doubt they could snap you in half like an oatmeal cookie. In response he seemed to try to make himself look smaller, drifting at a lower level so that his head wasn't much higher than yours. This gave you a good look at his features, he had round pupils unlike the rectangular slits you associated with octopi, his sclera was a light grey and his irises a saffron yellow on downturned eyes. He didn't seem to have any patchwork of iridescent scales like your work colleagues. His eyes aside, everything about his face was sharp, from the hooked nose to the prominent chin and brow bone. As curious as you were, you tried not to look any lower than the slits along his neck; gills, in case your gaze made him uncomfortable. You briefly wondered if he'd try to say something once he got closer but he didn't, he just looked back with a gesture you interpreted as 'continue'. So you did.

There actually weren't anymore lionfish nearby so you decided to take a moment to clip the spines of the one on your spear, hoping to feed it to Joel the eel... or maybe this was Geoffrey. He took this lull in your movement as an opportunity to interact. You stared wide eyed as his hands reached out. It looked as though he was going to reach for your spear but thought better of it and reached out for your free hand instead. He took your smaller hand into his much larger ones. He inspected each finger, pulling them apart and tracing the curve in between, where his held a thin membrane. He ran a thumb over your blunt nails, where his held thick black claw. His movements were slow - cautious - and you get the feeling that it was more for your benefit than his. Wary as you were, you were equally enthused to learn more of the  man... fish... octopus being before you.  He inspected the sleeve of your wetsuit, running his fingers over the material. When it seemed like he was going to pinch the fabric between two claws you tugged your hand away, shaking your head in hopes the gesture was universal. Thankfully he understood. He then circled you to take in the rest of your form, a possible sign he understood touching anywhere else on your body might be unwelcomed. 

Unsurprisingly, he took particular interest in your legs, watching the way they swayed to keep you afloat. He didn't touch you yet you somehow felt pressure over every inch his eyes laid upon. Was this how your coworker felt during those awkward introductory meetings where there would always be one person asking to touch their fins. The memory made you giggle and the merman suddenly shifted his focus from your legs to your face. Your breath caught as his eyes focused on yours, it was mesmerizing how they looked as fluid as the ocean; the colors swaying as the black center zeroed in on you. For a moment you wondered what did you look like through those eyes. He raised a hand to rest his knuckles against your cheek. His gaze then lowered to your lips. Your body -so ready to flee when he first approached- now froze. No matter how much you tried to reinforce that his actions were of innocent curiosity you couldn't stop thinking they weren't. Or maybe you just hoped they weren't. Oh dear. Before you could figure out where your head was at, he pressed a thumb against your lips. There was a subtle shift in his features as he stared at you intently. A question? Was he asking to kiss you? Your heart sprinted. He wanted to kiss you... and you- you were actually considering it. You must be insane; yes you thought he was gorgeous in a unnatural -captivating- way but you weren't going to kiss a creature you haven't known for more than a few hours. You hadn't even exchanged words with him. Words... Oh! That was it! You would've face palmed  if your hands weren't occupied. He wished to speak, and prior knowledge reminded you that merfolk could adapt a language through lip contact. Well, that cleared your brain a bit. If that's the case surely you could spare your lips for a moment. It wouldn't have to be long, just the slightest peck was enough. A fraction of a second. He was patiently awaiting your answer, somewhat pulling back as if to tell you 'no' was a more than acceptable answer. With a tad more hesitation you finally nodded. You pulled out your mouth pieces, angling it downwards to prevent excess air loss. Trying to show some initiative you moved closer but you just couldn't bring yourself to close the kiss. Graciously he did and your lips met. Your rushing blood brought heat straight to your cheeks. It was such a minute amount of contact but your body responded as if he was already tongue deep inside. You felt... something. Like faint streams of electricity that moved from the corners of your lips to the center before vanishing. You figured it was the magic at work, now would be the time to move away but your body and brain can't seem to get on the same page. Or maybe they were on the same page and the voice telling you to move away was something foreign, something unwanted. You opened your eyes to see his, half lidded but looking at you with an intensity that couldn't be misconstrued. Neither of you wanted to break the contact. You're not sure where the confidence came from but just as you moved to press closer to him, your lungs reminded you where you were. They called for oxygen. It took more effort than you would like to admit to pull away from him and return your regulator to your mouth. You looked back at him to see his fingers pressed against his mouth, eyes swirling with mixed emotions. Maybe it was your eyes playing tricks on you but you swear he licked his lips. His adam's apple bobbed in his throat and he moved his lips as if testing the motions.

     "Can you understand me?"

     You nodded in the affirmative. And by Gods, the smile on his face could outshine the sun on a clear summer morning.

     This opened up the pathway to your budding friendship. Underwater, you couldn't have full conversations but with the barrage of questions he had there was hardly a need to speak. It especially amused you that he had to confirm that you were indeed human. Do humans walk everywhere? Do we forms pods? Do we dream? Do humans fly was a weird one to answer under the limitations. It was an eye opener to the fact that you were as alien to him as he you.

     At some point you remembered that you were on a timer and though there wasn't really a quota, resurfacing with only four lionfish would definitely not look good for you. You went back to spearing, trying to be quick while he asked about this and that. It only got better when you finally resurfaced. You perched on the old abandoned dock, it was barely more than a couple planks of wood hanging on for dear life. You were especially glad that this area remained as vacant as when you left so you didn't have to worry about worried/wondering gazes at the two of you.

     Unfortunately diving was only something you could do 2 maybe 3 times a week, it was essentially a freebie session offered to break up the office work you dread. Still, even after you clocked out, you'd take a stroll to that same dock where he'd be waiting beneath the surface. You learnt that, though most merfolk would declare otherwise, his species wasn't rare. Just distant and reclusive. The only reason he was close enough to the shore to spot me was because he seeked a precious stone to complete a trade. Based on his description you believed it was Larimar or Blue calcite, which you may have in your personal collection. When you asked why he decided to approach you, his answer was a sideways glance and a shrug before quickly changing the subject. There were moments, you noticed, when he'd rest his arms along the wooden planks and caress your overhanging legs. The movements were slow and feather light, almost absent minded. It made your mind fuzzy, you wished to just close your eyes and focus on nothing but the feel of his skin against yours. Occasionally, he would gently rake a claw over your soft skin and you'd try your best not to trip over your words. In return, you'd run your fingers over the mix of tentacles and tendrils that sprouted from his head- similar to hair. The prehensile limbs would wrap around your fingers. The gestures were unmistakably intimate but neither of you spoke against it. Amongst the many questions and conversations would be these moments of content silence, these you treasured most. His hands on you, your hands on his, as you both enjoyed the world around you and each other.

     Now those memories fill you with a hollow feeling in your chest. It's been almost a week with no sign of him. What had you expected, really? He has a life down below that he has to attend to after all. Even you have missed a day or two. What if he's hurt? The question gnawed at you many times these past few days; you despised the small part of you that preferred that outcome over having been left behind. But then the idea that somewhere down there he was facing unknown perils that you'd have no means to help him with would solidify in your mind. No, you'd rather the hurt of having been abandoned. Summoning your mental fortitude, you aimed to focus on the task at hand before you accidentally harm one of the sharks by being distracted. There was a new face this time... at least you thought they were new. They nuzzled your body as if sensing your distress and to your delight; it helped

     Seconds dragged into minutes then hours before it was time for you to get out. You wished you could say you were strong enough to just go but instead you swam around for a bit; hoping. Praying. But there was nothing around except you, the water and your pitiful heartache.

     Above land you safely shed the equipment. The smart thing to do would be to go home as soon as possible. To finish your day, change your clothes and curl up in blankets while playing some video games. However, you've always been a creature of habit so instead you sat at the old dock. Alone. The sun was so warm but the winds were relentless, they licked at your skin as if trying to shoo you away. Maybe this was Poseidon's way of telling you to get over it. It's not like there was anything between the two of you. You'd only known him for a handful of weeks after all, that's barely enough time to form a friendship much less... As if shutting down the thought, your brain replayed a memory of him pressing his face against the palm of your hand with pure bliss etched into his features. As if your touch alone could push away all his problems. Then there was the time you touched your forehead to his during a momentary spur of boldness. The look he gave you spoke so loud in the silence. You would've kissed him then if not for your shyness winning  out. That was one of the last moments you'd shared before his disappearance. A treasure in your heart that now caused you pain. Packing up your things, you got up to leave, however something clutched your ankle. Something, rather, someone you recognized all too well.

     You gasped violently as you were dragged down. Thank goodness you did because it was all the air you'd get to take with you in your rapid decent below. He shifted so instead of being pulled by his tentacles, you were fastened to his side by a firm arm. He stared straight forward as he swam, allowing you only to see the tendrils whipping around the back of his head. You could hardly process how fast you were going down the bottomless blue. The water shifted from a bright, comfortimg azure to ultramarine as you went deeper and deeper. Your panic rose the further he swam, which did your lungs no good. Was he trying to drown you!? You couldn't call out, couldn't scream so you tugged and pulled at his thick, unyielding arm, trying desperately to get him to stop. He turned to you then, there was a look of pained and haunted thoughts scribed into his face. The lovely grey of his sclera had darkened into a soulless black making the yellows of his eyes that more vibrant, almost glowing in the waters inky depth. The word 'feral' again came to mind as he blinked his second eyelids. He looked at you and looked at you and looked even more. As though his eyes processed one thing but his brain was stuck on something else. It took a moment but he finally said your name. Not said, growled it. His usually velvety deep voice was now strained through gravel. He pulled you closer to him and buried his face in your hair, your heart would be fluttering were it not currently banging in your chest wondering where the hell was the oxygen it ordered. You tried, you really did, to struggle against his hold. Hoping he'd wake up from whatever spell he was under and bring you back to solid ground. Hell, you'd make an attempt to swim for it, knowing how futile it would be. But once his long tongue was on your throat you became putty in his arms. You feel three distinct fingers rake against the other side of your neck as he nipped at you. You can't tell if your breath hitched or your lungs made another vain attempt to reach for air. You raised a trembling hand, trying to alert him to your situation but he seemed solely focused on tasting your skin.

     "Breathe." He spoke in-between licks, his tongue venturing down to your clavicle, and you wondered if he'd actually gone mad. His hooded eyes met yours and he repeated the word.

     It didn't matter anymore, the choice was no longer yours. You had held onto that final breath for dear life but it was time for that life to come to an end. A stream of bubbles left your horrified lips as you now fought not to breath in; that was a far shorter battle. You inhaled, preparing for the sting of water invading your airways in it's rush to your desperate lungs. For your body to heave and cough as the waters reminded you you were not it's friend but a guest who had overstayed their welcome. Would your body float up to be picked at by birds or sink to be fodder for the sea floor scavengers? You waited and waited. But... It never came. You, somehow, were breathing air. Opening your eyes in confusion, you looked around to see if you were suddenly back on land, if all this was some dream or hallucination spurred on by your guilt and heartbreak but no. You were still surrounded by the open seas and all it's inhabitants. Your breaths felt slightly strained but you weren't going to complain about life saving miracles. Especially when a giant tentacled man was tracing his finger down your spine. Now that your life was no longer at risk(mostly) you calmly rest your palm against his head, trying again to get answers out of him. He stilled, dissolving into your touch as he had many times before. You saw a bit of clarity in his eyes before he closed them.

     "I'm sorry." He said after a moment, his voice was lustful and strained, like a warning sign dipped in want and desire. "It started; my heat. I tried to stay as far away as I could but when all sense had escaped my mind the only thing left were thoughts of you." He pulled you closer, his eyes remained closed as if one look at you would break the little control he had. "I thought I had overcome it when I began searching for... Methods for you to survive beneath the waters. But the moment I had my answers it overtook me. It possessed me. It still does. I want you...desperately but only if you'll have me."

     You listened to his words, in confusion then understanding. Then you actually understood! Oh! Suddenly your body had forgotten all it's woes, focusing on your core instead. He wanted you. You bit your lip in thought, noticing that the water couldn't pass some unseen threshold of your mouth. You wanted him, you couldn't even pretend to deny that but... Was there a 'but'? You searched your tainted mind for excuses but your brain and your body were again in unison, the only outlier was you. You slid your hand up his face and caressed a cranial tendril, he opened his eyes and you felt his body vibrate. Purring.

     You didn't have the courage to look him in the eye when you spoke. "I will." You consented.

     He was on you instantly. His lips crashed into yours with reckless need. There was no slow build up, no questioning nor tentative tongue touches. His tongue snaked pass your lips and devoured you in kind. His large hands ran down either sides of your body, meeting when they both grabbed at your ass. There they lingered, kneading your flesh through the stretchy materiel, before one devious hand ventured even lower. You felt him slide a finger along the fabric covering your sex. Back and forth, his finger glided creating a nice little friction that almost touched your eager clit. Your hips moved on their own, seeking the contact. You craved more of his touch and suddenly the thin, synthetic rubber was a dense barrier. As if hearing your thoughts, there was the slightest pinch against the crook of your behind before a sudden coldness seeped in. You could feel him carefully swipe his claw to just above your clit, creating a opening in the fabric. The new sensation of cold wetness against you warm sex made you gasp but it was soon replaced by the warmth of his... hand? No, the texture was far different. Before you had a chance to investigate, the feeling of suction against your clit gave you all the answers you needed. Something between a gasp and a moan left your lips, the sound must've pleased him greatly because he tore himself away from your mouth to look into your eyes. The limb covered your whole sex, with the tip lightly teasing your entrance but it was that one suction cup upon your clit that was really putting in the work. It took a rhythm that was brain meltingly pleasant against the sensitive bud, thoroughly teased by his phantom touches prior. A sudden surge of pleasure began to build causing you to reflexively try to squeeze your thighs together. However, the  action was impeded by two tentacles quickly wrapping around your legs to keep them parted. They squeezed as if to reaffirm their hold on you. He took your chin in his hand and watched you intensely as you came undone from the stimulation. His grip was light but unyielding when you tried to turn away. Closing your eyes would lead to him stopping completely until they fluttered open again to meet his. He would take in every dip in your throat, every curve in your lips, every crease beneath your eyes and flush upon your cheeks. He wouldn't miss a moment of your first orgasm at his hands. His gaze was dizzying, as if whatever possessed him was now reaching out for you.  Having him inspect you with such cold fondness only made the experience that more salacious. The rising tide of pleasure finally crashed and you were left a buzzing, panting mess. With a look of gratification he released your chin, wrapping his arms around you once more to knit your body to his.

     "You're so beautiful." He cooed before trailing off into words of his own language.

     You didn't get a moment to say anything back before you felt something probe against your opening. One of his tentacles slid inside you fully, welcomed and aided by the slick lube of your still pulsing walls. You shuddered in his arms, thankful for the support. It was a comfortable fit and suddenly you're reminded that it's been ages since anyone has had you like this. It made the experience slightly more alien atop the fact that you were being intimate with a lust driven sea-beast. Rather than the expected thrusting, the appendage grazed along your insides. It twisted and pushed as if getting a feel for you, learning you before pulling back out. The sudden emptiness made you whimper, you looked at him, ready to beg if need be but it didn't come to that. You felt your entrance being prodded again. It was the familiar tip of a tentacle, ready to enter you once more. However, the more it pushed, the wider it got; so very much wider. And Gods, it held a bumpy texture that was absent before. Just as your mind went hazy you realised it was two of them, wrapped around each other. It finally gave you the thrusting motion you desired, it's ribbed texture grazing parts of you that remained untouched for too long. Your movements were limited but you attempted to grind against each wonderful thrust, moaning your delight with feather light whispers. This was all too good, soft and pliable enough that it writhed inside you but firm enough to press against your hungry womb.

Despite all senses seemingly being focused on your trembling hole you felt something press against your stomach, forcing it's way into the tiny space between your body and his. You peek downward to see the spearheaded tip of what you assumed was his cock. Suddenly, his preparation of your cunt made sense, you'd expected him to be big but geez. It was identical in color to his body, darkening at the tip in a similar fashion to his fingers. It throbbed and twitched as he began to grind against you. Even with two tentacles stretching your insides, your greedy eyes craved the feel of it. Craved the connection to him. You reached down and grasped it at the base, shock almost pulling you out of your haze when it wrapped around your hand. It tightened as if begging for more of your touch. You acquiesced and began running you hands up and down his massive length, taking great pleasure in the way his body vibrated with resonating groans. His thrusts inside you growing wilder, taking you further and further and you were determined to take him with you. His voice held a softer, pleading tone as it goaded you on, praising you between strained hisses. His cock swelled and hardened, his words devolving into senseless mumbles. The limbs inside you became more erratic as his pleasure grew. His grip on your body tightening to the point of leaving small tears in your suit and nicks in your skin. He released a long animalistic huff as he coated your arm in slimy white fluid, your body responded by coating his tentacles with your own. You rest your head against his chest, moving in time with his heavy breaths, counting them as you both recovered. You're not sure when he began moving you but suddenly you were face to face. He kissed you. Slowly. Gently. Tasting and savoring you.

     "Do you think you could take me, my treasure, or do I need to stretch that greedy hole of yours even more?" He asked between kisses.

     Words were beyond your tired brain so you just nodded. As spent as your body was, this moment would not feel complete until he was inside you. Slowly, as if moving you too much too quickly could break you, he turned you around so that your back was pressed against his chest. He snaked his hands around you -he really did seem to love having his arms on you-, one hand moving to grope your breast while the other traced a line down your stomach to caress your mound. You feel his lower half angle itself to bring his leaking member to your slick opening. Oh so slowly you feel him slide into you, spreading you wider with each inch. You couldn't help but try to squirm against him but his hands held you steady. He was only half way in when your body began to show resistance. He started pulling out slowly and thrusting into you, getting a little bit further each time.

     "You're being so good for me." He whispered just above your ear, his voice held a lovely cadence. Singsong; as if haunted by a melody that compelled his body to move.

     You couldn't hear it but you felt it, it rang through your body with each sway of your hips and out your lips with each whine. Down to the way he held you, like an instrument to be adored. Every moan a crescendo and every voice stopping bite at your neck a diminuendo. He was playing you and you were loving every moment of it. In and out, in and out like he was timing bars on sheet music. That was up until the flat, tapered tip hit the deepest part of you; he'd hilted. Then everything stopped. Fermata. You're only warning for what was to come were the tentacles that slithered around your legs to ground you. You hardly even felt him pull out, just the force as he thrust fully into you. The sound that left your mouth was a guttural whine of shock and pain. He kept going.  Slamming. Pounding. Taking your body over and over. It hurt and yet you desired more. He fucked you like he was craving this moment his whole life. Your body eased and the pain slowly dissolved into pleasure, never quite leaving but become something more. Something better. Something wholy obscene. Your body was an inferno in the cold, dark water. Pleasure overtook you; you no longer felt like a person, just a mass of emotions and senses. You could hear his grunts and growls behind you, the sounds he made were truly animalistic. Wild. Primal. Savage. As though he couldn't fathom being anything but a creature of vulgarity. Couldn't fathom doing anything but driving himself into you. Desired nothing more in the world than to fill the emptiest parts of you. Your walls tightened around him, as if intending to learn every bulge and vein of his cock. Pulling and sucking him in with no desire to let him go, that was where all your strength went. You felt the recognizable build of another orgasm and judging by way his pliable member was now a hardened monolith, he wasn't far off.  He no longer needed to lead, you danced with him as you both came together. His seed seeped out of him, filling every bit of (nonexistent)space inside of you before oozing out. He continued to thrust, making sure you milked his cock for everything he had. It's throbbing was like a heartbeat inside you.

     You collapsed against him, laying your head flat against his chest, your cheek barely touching the flesh above his heart. After a moment you looked up to see him already staring down at you, the affection in his eyes fueled your already thrumming heart. A moment of tenderness as the tainted waters surrounding you both whisked your indecencies away.  His sclera lightened to their usual soft grey. An eagerness popped up on his face as he seemingly wanted to ask you something then but thought better of it. A somber look taking over his features instead. Using what little strength remained in your body, you turned fully to him. He immediately took your head in both his hands and rest his forehead against yours.

     "I- Did i hurt you?"

     "Did-" You gave him a droll look. "Did you hurt me??" You flicked his head. Well, you tried but there was less than no force behind your fingers. "Of course you did. Lucky for you I enjoyed it."

     "I'm so sorry, I'll be gentler next time." He sounded genuinely apologetic. "If you would allow for a 'next time'."

     "There better be."

     "And a time after that?"

     "Don't push your luck, ocean boy."

     You felt him smile against you. It may have been an innocent one but you couldn't help but wonder if he was already plotting.

     He took you above land after that and you thanked the Gods above that your towel and pack was still waiting for you. At least you could walk(limp) to the company building without catching a charge for indecent exposure. He watched you from his usual spot on the dock. His downturned eyes hooded by his lashes had him looking like a distraught child watching their best friend board a plane to unknown lands. Did he think he scared you away? That you'd never return? Maybe as a bit of revenge you'd let him believe it.

((You also had to deal with the urge to sink into the floor at the knowing and amused looks on your merfolk coworker's face every time they saw the marks on your neck D:))

#monster boy #monster lover #monsterfucker #merfolk #monster x human #monster romance #monster smut #teratophillia #exophelia #kyumiwrites #monster writing #tentacles #tentaclesandtendrils

[bunnyhugs77]

Daddy Daycare

Pairing: Technician! Jungkook x Teacher's Assistant! Reader

Word Count: 7k

Part: 1, 2, 3

Series Content: daycare au, suggestive themes, love at first sight? dilf jk, mentions of antidepressants, mint jk and blonde jk, jk cant sleep, sexual themes, he's so whipped, toxic ex, minor baby mama drama, gold diggers, mentions of death, complicated family history, cute kid cameos, reader can't drive, jk is good with his hands, mentions of abusive relationships, so much fluff.

Other Series Content: soft dom! jk, muscle kink, pussy puts his ass to sleep, unprotected sex (just don't), oral sex (f! and m! receiving), brief choking, minor breeding kink, hickeys, brief dom! reader, reader makes him wait, intimate cuddling, praise.

"Ready for a new year, Y/n?"

Your nose was filled with the smell of fresh paint and scotch tape as you and your co-worker Vanessa who goes by Ms. Powell when the class is swarming with bright and bustling four-year-old's.

The loud sound of ripping tape rang through your ears as you pasted the pieces onto the back of the welcome sign. The sun was hardly out as the two of you arranged to arrive at your new classroom bright and early at 5 am to finish off the decorations for the classroom.

"I can't believe the summer is finished already." You say with a rejuvenated smile. "I can only imagine how fast the time flies when you're travelling Europe." She reminds you of your two-week-long travels across the south of Europe.

Standing to your feet for what feels like the first time ever after hours of crouching and kneeling to finish up the decorations. "I think that's the last of it," with a puff of air and a pair of hands on your hips you smile to yourself, satisfied with the lively environment the two of you managed to create.

"I think we're ready," Vanessa says, cracking open a fresh whiteboard marker to sign your names on the board in a warm welcome.

With a quick glance down to your watch. "-and just in time too,".

The sun had peaked over the horizon no more than thirty minutes ago which means that theatrical parents would be rolling in any minute now to send off their kids to what could possibly be their first day away from them.

You both took the last few minutes to run down the hall and get changed, making sure you both looked ready to take on 22 pre-schoolers. Although you weren't the head teacher, you still had just as much of a responsibility as Vanessa did and it wasn't always easy.

The scar on your upper arm which was victim to the shark-like teeth of an ambitious little boy last year can attest to that.

You smiled warmly to some parents who passed by you in the halls on your way back to the classroom. Some familiar faces, some new, although based on the direction they were walking, they weren't any kids in your class.

By the time you returned to yours, there were already two parents bidding their farewells with their energetic offspring who were already reaching for the crayons you'd left on each table.

You slowly made your way to the front with Vanessa as the two of you prepared to introduce yourselves to the large crowd of parents and students that situated themselves around the room.

The energy was high, you could practically feel some of the anxiety and excitement from the crowd.

"Hello everyone!" Vanessa starts, clasping her hands together, "On behalf of Sunshine Circles Daycare, we want to give you all a warm welcome to our class."

Vanessa introduces herself professionally before briefly gesturing to you, cueing your smile, "And this is Ms. Hill, she will be assisting both me and the students around the classroom. I wouldn't be able to do this without her." You nod along, preparing yourself to speak.

"Yes, so if ever Ms. Powell is unavailable, don't be afraid to share any questions or concerns with me that you have about the class or your child." Out of sight, somewhere in the crowd a pair shuffled through the large group of bodies and made their way to the front.

"We're looking forward to-" You paused, your eyes meeting the eyes of the man who just emerged from the crowd while holding the small hand of who you presumed was his son, he looked a little younger than the rest of the parents, and significantly buffer if you must add.

You could see peaks of his soft blue hair sticking out from underneath his black beanie that matched his black wife beater. He flashes you a coy smile, so innocent and handsome to the point he'd made you forget your train of thought and completely forget what you were in the middle of saying.

"I think what Ms. Hill was about to say was that we're looking forward to having a wonderful year full of learning and fun." Vanessa fills in your blanks and all you could utter was a small 'mhm!'.

With that said, the parents that'd been here since the very beginning had naturally begun to take their leave, not without a tight hug and reassuring kiss to their child's forehead of course.

"Sorry we're late," You turn around, and it's as if the air was sucked out of your lungs. The man was even more stunning up close, but that was something you vowed you would never acknowledge again. He's the guardian of one of your students, it would be unprofessional.

"That's no problem at all, life happens," you chirp, almost too happily. "Isn't that the truth, Ryan here couldn't seem to find his favourite shoes and refused to wear anything but." The man smiles, and wow, even his smile was attractive.

If you thought his smile was contagious you just couldn't stop yourself from beaming when you finally looked down to meet Ryan's big grin. "Look! It's lightning McQueen!" He shouts, stomping his feet at one hundred miles a minute, the base of his sneakers flashing red and white as he does so.

"Your shoes are awesome! I wish mine could do that." You return his big energy with a bit of a softer tone, oblivious to the way the man is watching you intently. All of a sudden Ryan was hopping up and down, tugging on his dad's arm, "Can I colour?!" He points to the table full of markers and blank papers.

"Well, you're going to have to ask Ms. Hill first, okay buddy?" The man looks at you with a damn near glow in his gaze, "Of course it's okay. Use as many colours as you'd like." Before you could even finish your sentence, Ryan was long gone, only the flashes of his sneakers were proof that he hadn't teleported.

"Have you been teaching here long?" He asks, prompting you to shake your head. "This is actually only my second year teaching here," subconsciously his plump bottom lip found itself victim between his teeth. "Ah," he sighs.

There was a brief pause in your conversation. As if it were planned, both of your gazes dropped down to analyze the other's left hand, looking for any signs of that metallic band wrapped around the ring finger.

Seems like you were both in the clear, for now.

Your conversation resumed as if the ring inspection never even happened and soon the both of you were finally making introductions. "The kids call me Ms. Hill, but you're more than welcome to call me Y/n." That lip ring was taunting you as it sat so comfortably in his plush pink lips that stretched into a soft smile.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Y/n, I'm Jungkook."

~~

"Goddamn it." You mutter. Giving the projector another hard hit in the back as it flickered and failed to turn on. It had been giving you a hard time all week.

You're at least grateful it let you have a successful first week of the year but now it was acting up more than ever. Kids would be coming any minute and Vanessa was stuck in traffic, so you would somehow need to find a way to fix this and supervise all before--

"Good morning Ms. Hill," Never mind you think, giving the projector one last frustrated tap. Disregarding it as if it never happened and focusing on Jungkook and Ryan who just walked in.

Ryan shouts a cheery good morning of his own before getting his hands on the toy car he's grown fond of over the last week. Unspokenly declaring it as his own.

"I couldn't help but notice.. and hear your frustrations with the projector from down the hall. Something wrong?" He takes two confident strides towards the equipment with you trailing along.

"Yeah, it's been breaking down all week. I was hoping to show the kids a video today, but it seems I may have to improvise." He didn't respond with anything more than his warm smile as he laid his hand down on the top of the projector giving it a once over.

His brows furrow ever so slightly before he lets out a little laugh.

"What's so funny?" your arms cross instinctively, eyes never leaving his lean frame as he practically struts over to the outlet and properly plugs in the cord, the graphics now displaying perfectly on the screen.

"In all of my years working in tech, that may have been one of the hardest cases to solve." He teases and you subconsciously let your tongue poke the inside of your cheek, failing to hide an embarrassed smile.

You waved to the parents who were dropping off more students, "If you ever have any more technical issues, I'd be happy to help." He reaches into his back pocket and places one of his business cards in your hand. "I will, thank you."

You shook off whatever the hell it was that was bubbling in your stomach, and reminded yourself things were strictly professional and he was only offering to be nice, nothing more.

-

The weeks were flying by without you realizing it until Thanksgiving was mere weeks around the corner. Which meant today was show and tell. Vanessa instructed everyone to sit on the carpet in a big circle.

Yesterday you reminded parents to help their child to find something they loved at home so they could bring it to show and tell.

"Thanksgiving is a special day of the year where we-" Vanessa was in the middle of explaining from where she sat crisscrossed on the carpet in the circle while you picked up the abandoned crayons and papers on the desk.

"Eat lots of food," cute giggles filled the room from Carly's outburst. "Yes, that's right. We eat lots of food on Thanksgiving and it's a day to be grateful for everything you have. Can anyone tell me what it means to be grateful for something?"

The class had never been so quiet, full of scrunched brows and blank stares. "It means to be happy with what you have. How many of you have toys at home?" Almost all hands shot up at once, you were afraid someone would lose an eye.

"Do you like your toys,? The room filled with lots of loud and affirmative responses, "To be grateful for something like your toys means showing them extra love and saying thank you to your parents who bought them."

By the time you'd finished cleaning up and joined the circle, they were about halfway through the circle for show and tell, everyone getting a chance to say what they brought and why they loved it along with passing it around the circle.

"Thank you for sharing Ms. Cuddlepuff with us Riley."

"Ryan, what did you bring?" He practically lights up when his turn finally comes around. He introduced his favourite blue race car, and described it as fast and shiny, even holding it while he spun the wheels for us.

"What an amazing car! Do you want to pass it around?" He shakes his head. You tried to be gentle understanding why he wouldn't want to share, "Don't you want your friends to be able to see your amazing car too?" He shakes his head, hugging his toy close to his chest and scooting further back, removing himself from the circle.

"Ryan-" Vanessa tries to reason but he starts to yell, "I don't want to share! It's mine!" He stomps his feet, the lights on his shoes flashing red, a similar shade to his furious expression.

You looked over to Vanessa, the both of you deciding you weren't going to fight him on it.

"Okay Jamie, what did you bring today?" He shakes his head as if he is mimicking Ryan's behaviour. "I don't want to share either."

Oh boy.

Finding a way to get the rest of the class to share their objects had taken all of your willpower and the rest of the day, right until parents were walking in, ready for pick up.

"Hey," You smile as you watched Jungkook walk in wearing his typical white collared shirt with the top button open giving you only the slightest peak of the silver chain beneath that sat atop his honey-kissed skin--

"Daddy!" Ryan squeaked, running off to grab his coat and shoes.

"How was he today?" You tried to hide your regret but he noticed it, no matter how fast it flashed across your features. "What is it?" His voice was soft, welcoming any feedback.

"He had a bit of a hard time sharing during the show and tell. He didn't want his classmates to touch his car, which I understand but we try to encourage the students to be kind and share." Your heart was pounding, you always hated these kinds of talks.

You felt that it was just criticism, but in reality, it was just one rainy in comparison to one hundred sunny ones. Jungkook exhaled heavily. "I don't know what is with him and this car, he won't even let me hold it."

As if on cue, Ryan comes running back to his father with his jacket on and car in hand. His dad ruffles his hair playfully while the boy wraps his arms around his father's legs.

"I'm sorry about what happened. We're working on it, I promise." Nothing but sincerity rolled off his tongue as he looked down at the child who clung to his jeans.

"Come on buddy, let's go. Say bye to Ms. Hill."

"Bye, Ms. Hill!" He waves back to you before walking out the door.

As the clock rolled closer the 4:30, all the kids had gone home and it was just you and Vanessa going through the schedules for tomorrow.

"So how long are you gonna keep flirting with Ryan's dad." maybe you'd put on too much lotion earlier, it was pure coincidence that your pencil had immediately fallen from your hand.

She laughs as if something were hilarious. "I am so not flirting with him." She rolls her eyes, "Oh please, I have never seen you spend nearly half as much time talking to the other parents as much as you talk to him. Not to mention the hearts in your eyes."

You let your head fall into your hands out of sheer embarrassment, "I don't know what to do!" You almost shriek into your sweaty palms.

"A word of advice, save yourself the trouble and don't get involved. I don't believe that he's married but that doesn't mean there are no strings attached either. Believe me, I've been there, things can get messy and it's just not something you want."

Vanessa was bout seven years older than you, somewhere around 32 so you always took her advice to heart. "But didn't you end up marrying them, and then have two children?" She goes silent. "Yeah, well life is unpredictable."

You groan, letting your body fall back onto the carpet.

-

"Attention passengers, This is your driver speaking. I regret to inform you that we are currently experiencing a mechanical issue, and the bus has broken down. I apologize for any inconvenience this may cause."

Your head rolled back and hit the wall behind you. This is fantastic. It was supposed to be a great day today. It's Friday today. Specifically the last day before your three-day long weekend before the long weekend with Thanksgiving falling on the Monday.

You checked the time, 7:45. You should be there in 10 minutes, and honestly, you considered getting off the bus and walking but there were about 4 inches of freshly fallen snow from last night covering the city and it was far too cold to embark on such a journey at this time of day.

You wouldn't be there until 9 at the earliest.

Meanwhile,

"Have a great day Ryno. Daddy loves you." Jungkook places a quick peck on Ryan's forehead watching him join his friends. He couldn't help himself from scanning the class for you, wondering where you were.

In the meantime he approached Vanessa, handing her a small gift box. "I know Ryan has such a big personality, so here's a little something to help you get through the day." He smiles, "Happy Thanksgiving."

She was shocked to be receiving a gift for Thanksgiving, she usually only expected them around the holidays. It was a $50 gift card to her favourite coffee shop, she has their signature cup of coffee on her desk every morning. "Thank you, Mr. Jeon, this is incredibly thoughtful, and Ryan is such a delight to teach."

"I also have something for Ms. Hill, but I haven't seen her. Is she away today?" Vanessa's brows scrunched, realizing that you would usually be there by now. Her phone begins to ring, "Oh- This is her calling now." Jungkook didn't know whether to stay and listen but he couldn't bring himself to walk away.

"Your bus broke down? Where?"

"East of Park Avenue? That's 30 minutes away." Jungkook's brain was doing summersaults around a mental map he was programming in his head trying to locate where you were based on the information he was hearing.

The conversation continued for a minute more until it ended with Vanessa reminding you to 'stay warm'. "God, that's terrible. It's freezing outside." Jungkook frets and Vanessa manages to contain her thoughts from expressing themselves on her face, suppressing the smirk and opting for a head nod instead.

No less than 5 minutes had passed when Jungkook found himself behind the wheel driving towards your location. The minutes passed like seconds when he spotted the bus sitting on the side of the road.

Parking right behind it, he stepped out of the car and walked along the sides of it trying to spot you, but you saw him first. At first, you couldn't believe it but once you saw that ring tucked into his bottom lip, all doubts were gone.

You grabbed your bag and stepped off the bus, meeting him there at the steps. Looking down at him as the snow gently fell on his beanie, neither of you spoke. Your eyes seemed to be doing all the talking.

"Er-hem." Someone cleared their throat behind you, letting you know that they also wanted to get off and you were blocking the way. Apologizing you stepped off and to the side.

"What are you doing here?"

"I heard about what had happened and I couldn't stand there and do nothing. It's freezing out here." You could hardly look at him, he was just too cute, his nose and cheeks were beginning to turn a little rosy from the cold breeze that swept the snow across the sky.

"You came all this way just to give me a ride?" There were puffs of condensation with every breath and he nodded slowly, a little afraid he was coming off as a creep. "Y-yeah, I hope that's alright with you."

"That's perfectly fine with me, let's go before I lose feeling in my fingers for good." he snickers as you practically run towards the car that he'd unlocked.

You were so relieved to be sitting in a warm car with heated seats.

It was no time before Jungkook pulled out and began the careful drive back to the daycare.

The silence was comfortable and it gave you time to focus on regaining feelings in your limbs.

"I never knew that you took the bus," Jungkook starts, turning your face away from the flurries that fall outside the window and landing on the side of his face as he feigns concentration on the road.

"It's my only option since I don't drive," Jungkook's jaw fell open. He tried to catch it in time but it was too late, "Yeah yeah I know. I'm 25 and I don't drive." He takes advantage of the red light to face you, "There's no shame in that. I didn't mean to come off as judgy I was just surprised."

"No, I know. I'm not mad, I'm actually used to it. " The silence resumes, "Is there a reason why you don't drive?" He immediately regretted asking, he felt like he was prying and didn't want to make you uncomfortable. You were already in his car for god's sake.

"You don't have to-"

"I was 19." 

Never mind, he thinks. You seemed more than ready to share.

"I was coming home from school, I had just finished my first exam of many, the roads were dark and I was tired. I thought I saw something run across the street but I told myself I was seeing things. Suddenly there was a thud. My car rocked over and over again, so finally, I stopped. I got out and I was terrified to see the trail of blood that ran behind my wheel. There was a black cat that got caught on my tires and kept getting dragged and rolled around for 20 yards."

Jungkook's hand had somehow found its way cupped over his mouth throughout your story, nothing could have prepared him for a story like that.

"I'm a monster. I know. I've never driven since that day. It's best for the world If I simply don't drive." Now resuming his driving, he took one hand off the wheel to place on your shoulder. "Don't talk like that. You're not a monster. It's not your fault. It's not like you did it on purpose. I'm sure the cat forgives you."

You shake your head, "It doesn't change what I did."

Somehow the conversation had taken a brighter turn to the long weekend. "What are your plans for the weekend?" You ask him as he turns into the parking lot of the daycare.

"Same as always, Ryan and I will probably watch movies, cook and do some crafts." Your heart warmed at the engaged weekend he had ahead of him. "That sounds so sweet. I'm sure you guys have loads of fun." He nods, "How about you?"

You laugh sadly, "My parents decided to ditch the cold weather this year and headed to Florida a few weeks ago, so I'll be thankful for wool socks and gossip girl." he laughs.

"You know, It'd be a shame to spend the holidays on your own. You're more than welcome to join our festivities." you looked out the window, not in disinterest but so that he couldn't see the way your cheeks tinted pink.

He parks, "No I wouldn't want to impose on-"

"I insist. You wouldn't be doing anything of the sort. it would be nice to have you." You smile. "Okay, I'll be there,"

The hours flew by faster than you could even realize. Practically startled to see a parent walking into the classroom ready to pick up their child, and just like that, the day was over.

There were no more than a handful of kids left, but no more than the usual 5 or 6 whose parents had signed them up for aftercare due to their schedules, including Ryan who you just watched offer his crayons to his classmate Lia.

Vanessa was quick to acknowledge his kindness and gave him a sticker, you would have loved to have been part of the moment but unfortunately, you were just pulled into the hall by another teacher being asked to supervise another class while she used the bathroom.

By the time you returned, you saw Jungkook and Ryan packing up the last of their things getting ready to go, but he seemed almost relieved to see you.

"I never got the chance to give this to you earlier this morning," He hands you a small bag. You were stunned at what was inside. "In the spirit of thanksgiving, I wanted to show you my gratitude." He smiles.

You pry the bag open delicately moving over the tissue paper to see a hardcover novel. You knew the cover anywhere. "I've been trying to get my hands on this book for months! It's been sold out everywhere how did you get it?"

A sly grin slowly works its way across his features but he doesn't say. "How did you even know I wanted this?" You were trying your best to resist the urge to hug him. "I'd only seen you with the previous book laying on your desk wide open a dozen times, and all the sticky notes you'd have sticking out. It was a lucky guess that you were a fan of the series."

Stunned to silence, you let your smile speak for itself. "I love it. Thank you so much." His hand raises to his chest as a sign of relief but it is actually him trying to calm his racing heart. He was afraid you wouldn't like it; but what was there not to like?

How couldn't you like it?

-

Why couldn't you find anything you liked? Nearly half your closet was on your bed, quickly falling to the floor over time as you searched high and low for something to wear. This would be the first time Jungkook would see you outside of your workloads so you wanted to look good, but not too good of course.

You didn't want to seem like you were trying too hard. Being effortlessly flawless was the look you were trying to go for but you fear you've passed that point as you started to break a sweat a few minutes ago.

Unsure of how much time has passed, feeling stuck in the endless fashion time warp continuum. The pit in your stomach suddenly grew three times larger once you'd realized you had no more than 30 minutes to get ready if you wanted to catch your bus.

Begrudgingly, you finally picked something to wear. A minimalistic brown crew neck with your black Lulu leggings and beige wool socks that would match perfectly with your Uggs. You wanted to look cute but still put together, so you decided to slick your hair up into a neat bun.

Scrambling to grab your bag and your house keys before you paced your way down the street to the bus stop.

Watching the apartment buildings slowly become more narrow and shorter as you saw more and more modern condos. Only 20 minutes had passed on your commute until it was time to begin your 7-minute walk to your destination.

With one last sneak peek into your bag to make sure the desserts you'd brought were still in order and weren't dishevelled at some point during your journey.

Looking back up to the door, ringing the bell and waiting no more than 10 seconds before an over-eager Ryan swung the door open, out of sight but not out of earshot, you could still hear Jungkook's sweet voice scolding his son.

"Ryan, what did I tell you about opening the door?" Finally, he comes into sight from around a bend inside revealing an entirely new Jungkook.

He looked, good. Better than good. He looked hot.

Wearing an army green Essentials hoodie paired with beige cargos and a silver chain that hung around his neck.

Oh, and his hair was blonde.

Surprised that your eyes hadn't fallen out of their sockets at the sight of his freshly bleached locks with his naturally dark roots. God, he was so fine.

"Hey! Come in, come in. " He steps to the side and Ryan is gently nudged over by his dad's leg to make room for you and your things as you step inside.

Your senses are immediately welcomed by the scent of mahogany, carefully chosen as it mingles with the comforting aromas of a Thanksgiving feast in the making.

"Hi, Ms. Hill!" Ryan shouts, loud enough for you to hear from 50 feet away. He was just the cutest, "Hi, Ryan!"

Jungkook smiled, "I'm glad you could make it," instinctively reaching out to take the bag from your hands so you could focus on taking off your shoes and jacket. "I brought this for you guys." You say, prompting Jungkook to peek into the bad, grinning at the sight of the mini chocolate cupcakes.

"I can't guarantee these will make it to tomorrow."

Once your boots were off and sat neatly near the door, Jungkook offered to take your jacket from you, entrusting Ryan with the duty of holding the bag with the desserts and sending him off to place them somewhere in the kitchen.

"Your hair." You finally say, giving your neck a minor strain as you look up to the man as he leads you further into the house. Everything was styled so neatly.

The colour palette consists of soft whites and beige with a splash of greens and turquoise. The fireplace was lit, emanating a gentle warmth throughout the open concept. It gave the living room a cozy feel along with the brown fleece throw blanket that was placed carefully over his sectional couch.

"Yeah, I got pretty sick of the blue, I thought it was time for a change." With a mind of their own, his hands run through his hair before he gives it a shake. "Do you like it?" He knew the answer, you're sure he did.

It's like a demi-god asking if they were attractive, the answer was obvious. "It would be a lie if I said I didn't." You leaned onto the kitchen island, your line of sight landing on the four-year-old who busied himself with the pile of crayons and paper on the carpet.

You hated how easily the two of you fell into natural conversation almost forgetting that it was Thanksgiving if it weren't for the sudden waft of a delicious meal in the making hitting your nose. "Something smells delicious." Your nose twitched cutely as you sniffed; your curious brown eyes watching Jungkook as he rounded the island closer to you to check on the food in the oven.

"Hmmm... It'll be about another hour or so, I hope that's alright?" You'd decided to finally plant yourself down somewhere, inwardly unable to decide where since there were so many options, the big comfy couch, the table or the barstool chair that you finally decided to go with.

"In the meantime, do you want anything to drink? I have water, champagne, white wine, red wine, apple cider, coffee, milk- oh! and Apple juice." you can't help but giggle into your hand as he lists off what seems to be a never-ending list of beverages.

"Apple juice is fine, thanks." Or at least you thought it was the safe choice until you heard a loud objection bubble out of Ryan's throat. His voice was absolutely enraged. "No! That's mine!" His little steps quicken over to your feet, reaching for the juice box from your hand.

"Ryan. What did I tell you about sharing?" He doesn't listen, his face becoming more and more frustrated the longer he goes without your (his) juice box in his hands. His small hands reach out for you.

One could blame it on your background of teaching when you had an idea. Reaching for the child-sized cup on the counter as you popped open the juice box.

"Is it okay if we share it? You can have some and I can have some." He still didn't seem entirely convinced but he calmed down a little watching you squeeze half of the box into his cup before handing it down to him.

Holding the cup securely with his two hands he looks down into the cup with an inquisitive look, as if questioning your motives behind your generosity. "What do you say to Ms. Hill for being so nice and sharing?" He looks up at you, with no emotion on his face for an uncomforting amount of time, scanning you.

"Thank you, Ms. Hill!" He beams with a big smile and scuttles back to his drawing station, but Jungkook can't risk the little adventurer ruining his carpet and orders him to drink it in the kitchen. At least that way any spills can be wiped away from the tile.

Jungkook couldn't get over how patient you were, but he supposed it to be expected. You worked with dozens of kids every day for a living. You must be a saint. He's sure he would've lost it.

Jungkook groans, letting his head fall onto his arms as he leans onto the counter with a long sigh, one that lifts a bit of exhaustion from within him. "Everything alright?"

He nods, "'Jus' never thought being a single father would be this difficult. Every day it's eat sleep work repeat, on top of being a dad to a child who just can't seem to share with others, and it makes me wonder if it's my fault."

Maybe it was the hazy scented candles getting to your brain, the toasty fireplace nearby giving you warm fuzzies or maybe the apple juice had a little kick to it but you took a leap of boldness to place your hand on his shoulder.

Watching his eyes trail from your short manicured nails to your big brown eyes that looked at him with the utmost sincerity. Like a pool chocolate kindness. "He's a great kid, Jungkook. Every child goes through a rebellious stage at some point, it's practically inevitable. I've seen this over a thousand times, it doesn't take away from how special he is, just look at him."

The two of you observe the preschooler as he hums the tune to an incomprehensible song with his tongue slightly poking out as he coloured his papers passionately. "Thank you, Y/n." Your head whips around at the warm contact of his hand on yours, it didn't feel alarming at all, it was nice if anything.

-

"Wow. I don't think I could eat another bite, that may just be the best meal I've ever had." You groan, a limp hand on your stomach as you lean back in your chair, sitting across from Ryan whose placemat was covered in various foods and sauces that he was told to stop playing with half through dinner.

Jungkook grins from ear to ear, "Thanks, it's nice to hear." You sigh, "No seriously, where did you learn to cook like that? And more importantly, when can you teach me?" His head falls back as he laughs right from his chest. You couldn't help but think how much you were enjoying yourself.

"Funny you should say that," Jungkook picks up the empty plates from the table, putting them in the sink before walking out of view briefly leaving you with Ryan who stared at you with a grin.

"Where did your dad go?" His smile grew even wider if possible before bringing his gravy-covered index finger to his lips making a 'shush' noise. No more than 5 seconds passed before Jungkook returned with a pumpkin about the size of your head.

"Who wants to make pumpkin pie?" You laugh, unable to take him seriously.

-

"No I can't Jungkook- NO!" You shout, afraid you'd collapse from the lack of oxygen that was reaching your lungs from so much laughter as Jungkook was currently holding your hand trying to get you to scoop out some of the pumpkin seeds.

"You can do it, Ms. Hill!" Ryan cheers you on as your fingers make contact with the guts against your will. They were slimy, and soft, and triggered your sensory issues in every way imaginable. You gagged while Ryan laughed until his face was red.

Scooping out the last of them and placing them into the bag that Jungkook would dump into the compost later.

The three of you popped the pumpkin pie into the oven together and transitioned into your next set of activities. Soon the three of you made your own custom turkeys out of construction paper and googly eyes.

Which led you to now. The three of you snuggled up under the big brown blanket that was once just decoration but now provided warmth along with the crackling fireplace.

Now halfway into the Charlie Brown Thanksgiving movie, you looked into your side where Ryan had nestled himself comfortably, soft snores leaving his mouth with each breath.

"He's just the cutest." You say, moving one of his hairs out of his face, watching him while Jungkook watched you. Nothing is more appealing to him than watching you care for Ryan. "When did you know you wanted to start working with kids?" Jungkook asks, prompting you to think endlessly but you couldn't come to a conclusion.

"I don't know honestly. Maybe it's because I grew up in a pretty big family. Even though my immediate family is just me and my parents I was always the unspoken babysitter at family events, watching over all my younger cousins all the time."

"Well if no one has told you, let me be the first to say you're amazing." You turn to him, it was long past sunset, leaving the living room with a darker ambiance than when you'd first arrived but the warm glow of the flames on the side of Jungkook's face paired with that look in his eyes tempting you.

He leaned in ever so slightly but you looked towards the boy that was stirring uncomfortably in his sleep as if you were bothering him. With his still closed he flipped around to lay his head on the couch cushions instead.

It was impossible to contain your soft giggles at his sass even when he was sleeping. "You want something to drink?" Jungkook offers, "Please." you chuckle, unravelling yourself from the tangle of blankets and following him to the kitchen.

He poured you both a glass of wine, resuming your previous conversation from where you stood in the corner of the kitchen against the counter near the oven that radiated a glorious smell of pumpkin spice and cinnamon.

The tension could be cut with a knife. The way the two of you were looking at each other, practically stripping the other down with your eyes. Before you knew it, Jungkook was leaning into you and this time you definitely could blame it on the wine.

Placing your glass down on the counter behind you without thought and pulling his face to yours before finally pressing your lips against his own. Putting your heart into it before he pulled away, looking minorly dishevelled and flustered, "I-I was just reaching for my phone," He points weakly, his joints feeling as though they could fail him any second.

Your head rotates in horror to see his phone was in fact behind you and buzzing-- "Oh my god--" You held your red face in utter embarrassment, turning to walk away from him in shame but Jungkook would never allow that. Instantly grabbing you by the arm and pulling you back into him.

Your hips pressed flush against each other as he initiated a deep kiss, the kind you see at the end of a romance movie, nothing but passion and pent-up feelings. Feelings that he's held for you since the day he saw you.

He backed you up into the counter, your hands scrambling to brace yourself on his firm chest and he groaned softly into your mouth causing your knees to go weak. The kiss lasted longer than you thought you could hold your breath for, never wanting it to end.

"Wow-" you puff out a breath of air after the best kiss of your life. "A great cook and an even better kisser-- What can't you do?" For the first time, Jungkook's cheeks tint a rosy shade of pink but there's no time to respond as he hears Ryan complain.

"Daddy, I'm tired." You see his little head pop up from behind the couch with a bedhead of hair as he rubs his eye. "Yeah? You wanna get ready for bed little man? Come on let's go." Jungkook urges, turning to you with apologetic eyes, "I'll be right back, keep an eye on the pie for me?" You smile and nod.

Watching him disappear down the hall almost in a trace. A trance that was interrupted by the ceaseless buzzing of his phone. Buzz after Buzz after Buzz.

You shouldn't.

But the buzzing wouldn't stop.

What if it was an emergency?

You peeked at the screen.

Hana

-Where are you?

-I can't stop thinking about our night together.

-Pick up, I want to talk to you.

-When will I see you again? :(

Your stomach twisted, and you were certain it wasn't because of the wine. The oven timer goes off. How comedic. You shake it off, using the oven mitts to place the pie on the stove but ultimately deciding you wouldn't be able to stay any longer.

You didn't want to be the other woman, or the 'main' woman for that matter. You wanted nothing to do with someone who was possibly seeing two people at once.

Quietly you grabbed your things and made your way towards the door. Slipping into your Uggs and slinging your side bag over your shoulder when Jungkook sees you about to leave.

"Wait, Y/n. Where are you going? What's wrong?" Nothing but concern and confusion was written all over his face.

"I had a really great time tonight, Jungkook, Thank you. But I should really get going." Already twisting the door open and stepping through it, letting the frosty air nip at your cheeks and sweep by Jungkook's feet.

"it's dark and it's freezing outside, let me give you a ride." You object, "It's fine, it's only a 15-minute bus. I'll be fine. I'll see you tomorrow."

Like a whirlwind, you spun his world around and by the time he blinked you were gone.

Thanks for Reading!!

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[bettyfrommars]

Dirty Metal Summer

a Dirty Dancing au

Part 3: Crimson and Clover

Eddie x fem!Reader & Steve x older!OC

masterlist playlist

18+MDNI, not too many warnings for this part just mention of losing a parent, hint to an abusive relationship, alcohol consumption, tons of awkward flirting, eventual smut, but very much a slow burn. Steve is in his mid-late 20's, aunt Kim is mid 30's to early 40's, or whatever age you are, dear reader.

wc: 4.5k

Summary: Hello! We're getting to know a bit more about the character dynamics, listening to some of Eddie's thoughts, and catching a glimpse at a third possible romance on the horizon. Preparing us for the wild ride that starts in the next chapter.

Songs for this chapter: Under the Milky Way/The Church Edge of a Broken Heart/Vixen Seek and Destroy/Metallica

The shores of the resort were thick the next day with people who worshiped the sun, playfully kicking at the water in their bathing suits, stretched out in their lounge chairs, glistening in layers of Hawaiian Tropic tanning oil.  

You, on the other hand, were still fully clothed, covered in SPF, under one of the big umbrella’s the resort offered with your headphones on to drown out the sound of the screaming children.  Your dad was in the shade next to you, absorbed in a book, while aunt Kim caught some rays on her backside in a black one-piece that was high at the hip, flipping through an issue of People magazine.  It was the Summer of Love issue celebrating the 1960’s with the Beatles on the front and the quote: “It’s 20 years later, do you know where your love beads are?”

“Don’t you want to get in the water, Bird?” Your aunt cooed politely, adjusting her big sunglasses on her face.

You shook your head, pulling your headphones down.  “I think I’ve developed a phobia of public watering holes.”

“Suit yourself,” she sat up and brushed herself off.  “I think I’ll take a quick dip.”

“Watch out for sharks,” you quipped, earning the weight of a magazine being thrown at your hip.

“This has been enough excitement for me,” your dad cleared his throat, placing a bookmark to save his spot, standing from his chair, knees popping.  “I think I’ll head in, get some writing done before dinner.”

“Later dad,” you mumbled, wishing you had an excuse to hide in a room by yourself all day.  

Once he was gone, Kim took a drink out of her water bottle and heaved a sigh.  “I wish the two of you would give this place a chance.  Look at that lake!” She stretched her arm out, pointing. “It’s breathtaking.”

You gazed out at the expanse of the cheery, vacation scene, bursting with melancholy.  “Mom would’ve loved this place,” you choked on the last word, not sure where that fresh pang of emotion had come from.  

Kim chewed the inside of her cheek, equally adrift in reverie, when a body stepped up to block the sun, putting her in its shadow.  “I was hoping I’d run into you again.” 

The body belonged to Steve, and he was shirtless, in a pair of navy-blue Staff swim trunks, short and slightly snug against his hairy thighs, and flip flops.  His lips were glossy, and even though he wore sunglasses, he had to shield his face with his hand, squinting against the sun so hard that his top lip curled.

Kim tried to speak so fast she coughed, wondering if she looked too frumpy in the suit she had on.  What was she thinking? He had to be a good 10 years younger than her, no way he was interested in—

“Kim, right?” He aimed a finger gun at her, but then he struggled a bit with your name, snapping his fingers to ignite recollection.

“And you’re Steve,” Kim's eyes couldn’t help but land on the silver chain nestled in his ample chest hair.  “Did you, um, are you working on your tan?”

It took him a second to catch what she was referring to, and then he smirked, pulling a crumpled polo from his back pocket.  “I jumped in to cover lifeguard duty for a buddy of mine,” and then he shifted his sunglasses to the top of his head and so did she.  “If you ever need a swimming lesson, I’m your guy.”

“You’re a swim instructor too?” Kim asked, impressed. Steve put his hands on his hips, accentuating broad shoulder muscles.

“Nah,” he shrugged, tucking his chin. “But I’d do my best.”

You dropped your gaze to the sketchbook you’d been doodling in, trying to pretend like you weren’t listening.  From the headphones around your neck, the song Under the Milky Way by The Church played and a handful of kids ran by you giggling, dusting sand onto your blanket.

Steve wished you a good afternoon just before he excused himself, seemingly headed back to the pool area.  You thought he’d been on his way somewhere else, but you were mistaken.

“I think he likes you,” you swirled a few doodles, raising an eyebrow.

“Noooo,” Kim gave a long protest, adjusting the straps of her bathing suit.  “He works here, it’s his job to be friendly.  

“Yeah? Is it his job to keep checking over his shoulder at you as he walks away?”

Kim peeked just as the man in question tripped over his own feet.  Regaining his balance, he waved and said, “I’m okay,” and then proceeded to put his shirt back on as he approached the lifeguard station. 

It was your turn to stiffen and feel tingly all over when you spotted Eddie strolling down the sidewalk from the main house, wearing a tool belt loose at his hips to accompany his denim and staff shirt attire.  

From the way he knocked that Lance guy out with one punch the other night, you wondered if his hand hurt.  Adjusting yourself, you wet your lips, as if he’d spot you or something, which was impossible from that distance.  He cut in front of the fenced pool area, heading for the outdoor bar that had a thatched roof like you’d see at a tropical beach.  For the first time that day, you noticed that Chrissy was working the area, carting fancy drinks around to the guests at the pool.  Her blonde ponytail bobbed as she turned from what she was doing to talk to him.  

She dipped her chin a few times in answer to whatever questions he was asking, and then he squeezed her arm affectionately before taking off again.  

“Do you want anything from the bar?” You got to your feet, dropping your Walkman to the towel.

Kim cocked her head, considering the question.  “Is it too early for alcohol?”

Eddie was back on the path, his back to you as he got further away, but your attention was on Chrissy mixing cocktails in a metal shaker.  

“I can see if they have mimosas?” You weren’t thirsty, really, but you were curious.  

Kim decided on a bloody mary and asked you to put it on her tab, slipping you a few bucks for a tip.  

The smile Chrissy gave you as you approached was polite, but it did not reach her eyes.  “What can I get for ya?”

You told her, fumbling over your words a bit, and then waited on one of the five stools for her to make your drinks.  She scooped ice into a Styrofoam cup and tossed in a jigger of alcohol. You noticed a gold, heart shaped locket around her neck with something engraved on the front.  

“Is it true you used to play with Vixen?” You asked, in awe.

Chrissy’s face fell and she paused to stare at  you.  “Who told you that?”

“Oh, um, Joyce, she, well—sounded like she was proud of you.”

Chrissy went back to work.  “That was a long time ago, back when life was good.”

“It’s not good now?” You were intruding, and you knew it, but still, you couldn’t help yourself.  

Chrissy scoffed. “You could say that. Lemon in your tea?”

You nodded, wondering if there was anything you could say or do to cheer her up.  

“How long have you and Eddie been together?” 

She frowned down at what she was doing.  “Eddie’s not my boyfriend,” she corrected.  “He’s like a brother to me. Known him since I was a kid.”

“Oh I see,” you pressed your lips together, trying not to appear relieved at that news.  

There was a lull of silence as she finished up and you felt compelled to fill it.  “I saw you play with the house band last night.  I think you’re really talented.”

You could hear the click of her molars gnashing together when she placed both drinks in front of you. “Playing lame cover songs for a no-name house band is the best I can do with my life right now. Music is the only thing I’ve ever cared about.”

You used some of your own cash to give her an even bigger tip and scooped up your drinks.

“Hey, wait,” Chrissy called after you. She rubbed her forehead and tried to smile.  “Listen, I’m sorry that I’m, that I’m being such a bitch,” she shrugged. “It’s been a shit couple days.”

You shook your head, cold drinks sweating in your hands, about to tell her that you understood, but the two of you were interrupted.  

“Bird, there you are,” you froze at the sound of Troy’s voice. “Glad to see you’re enjoying the amenities.”

Troy had a green and white tennis outfit on with a racket in his hand, and you caught the way Chrissy tensed and quickly turned away at his entrance.  She folded the tip you’d left and put it in the front pocket of her apron.  He came up close to  you—too close, invading your bubble—and so you shuffled back, bumping into one of the stools.  

“The staff is treating you well, I hope?” He leaned against the tiki bar, and it was not lost on you that Chrissy pretended to be so busy she didn’t notice him.

“Just about to bring this to my aunt,” you lifted the red drink with the celery stick sticking out of it. You glanced at Chrissy, but she went to the other side of the bar to help someone else.  “The service here is impeccable,” you said, loud enough for her to hear.

You headed out and he kept up, sticking by your side. “I’ll walk with you,” he winked.

“Great,” your smile was a tight, thin line.  

—-------

Eddie bent at the waist to sip from the stone drinking fountain near one of the utility sheds and splashed water on his face a few times, combing wet fingers through his hair so that his bangs were off his forehead.  He worked the cool water around the back of his neck, wondering if he had a sunburn.  He loved Indiana for the fall colors and the long winters, but the summer? The summer heat could go fuck itself.  

Water was still dripping from his chin and nose when Steve walked up, sunlight through the leaves making patterns on his face.   

“Did Robin mention we need to borrow your van tomorrow night?” Steve bent down to take a sip from the fountain after he asked it.  

Eddie pulled the bottom of his shirt up to wipe his face, exposing his stomach and trail of hair from his belly button to his waistband.  “As long as you don’t bring it back on empty. What’s wrong with your car?”

“We need to pick up a bunch of Robin’s stuff from her ex’s house,” Steve raised his brows high, locking them in place. “Girl is a bit of a psycho, I don’t want Robbie to go alone.

Over Steve’s shoulder, he caught sight of you making your way back to the umbrella with Troy by your side and he hoped that you were smart enough to know that guy was a piece of shit.

“I work late tomorrow, but I’ll help you unload when you get back,” the tip of Eddie’s tongue rested at the corner of his mouth, eyes darting to you again.  You weren’t some goddess from the cover of a hotrod magazine, or one of the metal babes who always tried to go down on him when he used to play shows with his old band, but yet, without knowing anything about you, the sight of you made his heart jump into his throat.

“Nah, we got it,” Steve talked as the two started walking.  “It’s just a mattress and a chair and some clothes I think.  I told her just to let them go, but it's the principle I suppose.”

“I get it man, believe me,” Eddie once drove three states just to get a rare Scorpions concert tee back from an ex who stomped his heart.

“Hey,” Eddie caught Steve before he headed off in the other direction.  “Jam at the Hideout tonight?”

They bumped fists. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

—-------

The movie Casablanca was the offering at the outdoor theater that night, and respective families cuddled on the lawn on their various blankets and camp chairs under cover of generous tree branches.  Halfway through, you excused yourself from your aunt’s company to find the restroom, and that was when you spotted Chrissy and Troy having what appeared to be a heated conversion at the curve of the sidewalk near the rose garden.  You ducked behind a tree just as Humphrey Bogart said one of his infamous lines on the screen.  

Since everyone’s attention was occupied elsewhere, no one but you saw the way Chrissy pointed in Troy’s face, only for him to snatch her wrist in a way that made you gasp.  She yanked her arm away and turned on her heel, but then he caught up and lunged in front of her.  Whatever he said to her then calmed things down for a moment, she stopped trying to break free, and then he cupped her face as if he were about to kiss her, but she shoved away again.  That time, he let her go.  Hands balled into fists in his pockets, head down, he stormed off in the opposite direction, toward you.

You stood very still, hoping to be mistaken for the thick trunk of the tree, and thankfully, it worked. You came around to glare at his backside, but then trotted after Chrissy.  She was long gone, walking as fast as her feet could carry her along the treeline, and you didn’t think she’d appreciate you screaming her name at the top of your lungs in front of the other guests.  

It was pure luck that made you take notice of something shiny on the ground, a pile of glistening gold on the sidewalk.

It was a necklace, a heart locket to be exact, much like the one you’d noticed around Chrissy’s neck earlier that day.  You ran your thumb over the engraving on the front and let the delicate chain drag along the back of  your hand.  

You were sure that it belonged to Chrissy, the clasp must’ve broken during the struggle with Troy.  You had to get it back to her somehow.  

—-------

“Where are you going?” Your dad asked as you sailed through the living room on your way to the door later that evening.  He looked at his wristwatch.  “It’s almost 11.”

You’d planned on him being in bed already.  “I, well, I ahh—” you scrambled for an excuse, something that wasn’t “I’m going off the property to where people fight and get drunk and listen to metal”.  You were 21 and technically, by the law of the land, could do anything you wanted, but anyone who has ever traveled with family is familiar with the tendency to be treated like a child infinitely.  He loved  you, he worried about you, and you didn’t want him to stay up all night pacing, so, you lied.  

“There’s a meteor shower tonight, and a bunch of the guests are watching from the boat docks,” god, you hoped he wouldn’t fact check you on that.

He shuffled some saltines absently out of a tin.  “You’re still coming on the boat with us tomorrow morning?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” you beamed, clenching the front of your jean jacket closed to hide the revealing shirt you wore underneath.  

You raced down the porch steps once you were able, dashing into the night with Chrissy’s necklace safe in your pocket.

—-----

A guy in a Black Sabbath shirt and a drastic mullet with hair down his shoulders moved out of the way for you as you crossed the bridge, and then you had to stand there and take a breath. Robin wasn’t with you and you hadn’t been invited to the Hideout this time, maybe they wouldn’t want you?  Surely you could find Chrissy at work the next day and give her the necklace then? Fuck it, you were almost there.  

You could hear the shrill feedback from a guitar and then someone speaking into a microphone.  Was that Eddie’s voice? Your heart raced.  People cheered at whatever was said, and then the drum beat kicked in a few times, followed by guitar riffs, and a woman’s voice singing the Vixen intro to Edge of a Broken Heart.

“I can't believe I could have been so blind

But love is strange

I thought about it for a long long time

But the truth remains”

You could feel the music in your chest.  Was that Chrissy? Perhaps it was the “band practice” Robin told you about, but the music didn’t sound at all like what you’d expect to hear from the conservative house band. The sliding door was open once you were in view, with people mingling outside, and you dodged around them, sucking in a plume of secondhand smoke from a passerby.   

Slithering through a few more bodies, you stepped right over the spot where Lance had gone down the night before, and then you had the perfect view of Chrissy exercising her impressive pipes on the microphone under a few ropes of tiny, pale string lights.  

Steve was on bass, hair flopping in his face, his mouth holding an “O” shape as he played. He had on a thin white tee that was soaked through with sweat on the front atop belted blue jeans.  Eddie arched back, exposing his throat, his fingers deftly working the strings on his smoke black Warlock guitar.  He had a Bark at the Moon shirt on with wide, ripped out arm holes exposing the tattoo work on his ribs.  His hair hung in his face when he bent over to play, a frown of concentration knitting his brows together.

Chrissy jabbed her fist in the air for the chorus and the crowd screamed it:

“I've been living on the edge of a broken heart

I don't wanna fall, I don't wanna crawl

I've been living on the edge of a broken heart

Don't you wonder why I gotta say goodbye”

She commanded the stage, playing guitar as she sang. You were too absorbed to realize that you had made your way forward and were right there front and center when Eddie glanced up.

He wasn’t expecting to see you, so he did a dramatic double take, nostrils flaring the moment your eyes connected.  Why couldn’t you just stay away?

A smile teased at the corners of your mouth, but faded to an unsure lip bite when he averted his gaze, scowl deepening.  He ignored you for the rest of the song. 

When it was over, there were cheers and whistles all around.  The drummer with the mop of tawny hair twirled one of their drumsticks in the air with a flourish and caught it, clapping the high hat.  Voices murmured around you as people fell back into conversation while they had a break from the volume of the amps, and you shuffled to the side, following Chrissy as she took her guitar off and held it by the fretboard.  She had on a cropped shirt with her shorts, golden hair loose and wild around her shoulders, her short fingernails painted black.  There were a few old, wooden apple box crates stacked on top of each other to act as a makeshift table, and she grabbed the neck of the beer that was waiting there to take a sip.   

Eddie continued to play, wailing on the guitar with precision, while Steve and the drummer followed his lead to the tune of Seek and Destroy by Metallica.

You tapped Chrissy on the shoulder, and she jumped.  “Oh shit, you scared me,” she said, spinning around. She checked around as if she were expecting to see someone else there.  “Where’s Robin? Is she with you?”

“No, I, just a sec—” you dug around in the front pocket of your jacket, panicking for a moment that you forgot to bring the locket with you. “I found this on the sidewalk, and I thought maybe you dropped it?”

Chrissy gasped at the sight of it and her eyes began to water.  “How did you–?” A sob caught in her throat, and she reached out to gently take it from you.  She shook her head in disbelief.  “I looked everywhere, I thought it was gone forever, I—”

“I thought that was you!” It was Robin, bobbing on the balls of her feet as she came up to nudge your shoulder.  But then, her attention turned to Chrissy and her face tensed with concern.  “What happened, why are you crying?”

“No, no,” Chrissy sniffed and opened her fist to show Robin the piece of jewelry.  “It’s my grandmother’s locket I told you about.  Bird found it.”

Robin bent to get a closer look and the two women knocked their heads together, sharing a laugh.  “The clasp is broken though,” Chrissy mused.  “It must’ve come off when—” she swallowed, deciding not to finish that sentence.  “I’ll take it into town to get it fixed this weekend.”

“Give it here, I’ll fix it for you,” Robin volunteered.  “Not only can I unclog a toilet, but I’m also pretty crafty.”

“Y-you’d do that for me?” She asked as she was passing it over.

“Of course,” Robin chuckled.  “I’d do anything for y—I mean, what are friends for right?”

Chrissy turned her attention back to thank you properly when Steve pushed in between the other two girls and slung his arms around their shoulders.  “What's going on?”

Robin cringed.  “Gross, Dingus, you’re all sweaty,” to which he shook his head and droplets from his hair flew everywhere, making the girls scream and push him off.

The three of them got into conversation about something and you sank back against the corrugated metal wall to observe.  You hadn’t noticed the music stopped but the drummer was in the crowd having a beer and just as you were on your toes trying to find Eddie, a warm body sank in next to you.  

“Hey,” Eddie said.

You looked just in time to catch his gaze traveling down your body, but then he was quick to lift his beer to his mouth and pretended to be watching the crowd. 

“Hey,” you returned, suddenly full sentences and conversation felt so foreign.  You were acutely aware that there was plenty of space along the wall, but he was pressed close, bare arm touching yours.  

“They let you stay out this late on a school night?” He grinned against the aluminum rim, amusing himself.  He had a second beer in his other hand, and he passed it to you.

“Ha. Ha.” 

He had one knee bent with his foot on the wall while the other leg stretched long to show the heavily scuffed toe of his black boot.  

You shuddered despite the heat.  “So, how long have you and Chrissy been playing music together?”

He hummed, shifting so that his bicep rubbed against you, squinting one eye shut in thought, tilting his head back.  “Been something like a decade now, I think? Feels longer.  Feels like I’m 60 years old some days.”

“How old are you though?” You swallowed so hard your throat clicked.  “45? 50?”

He leaned into you, hard enough to push you over if your feet weren’t planted, his hair skimming your shoulder.  “Close enough,” he paused to say something else, but then puffed out his cheeks and exhaled.  

He wanted to ask how long you’d been playing the cello, but how would he even know you did without admitting he’d watched you that night from the street like a stalker? “Do you think you’re gonna stick around, watch us play some more?”

“I could,” you were about to add something super cheesy like, “if you want me to,” but opted for nonchalant.  “I love watching Chrissy play.”

He nodded a few times, and pushed off the wall, handing you his beer.  “Hold this for me?” His silky brown eyes locked onto yours, the tip of his tongue resting between parted lips.  “Please?”

There you were, holding Eddie Munson’s beer.  He got behind the mic and took his shirt all the way off to wipe his face with it before strapping his guitar on.  The next song they did was an original, something that Eddie and Chrissy wrote, and Chrissy came in on backup vocals, while Eddie growled out the lyrics, banging his head every so often.   He swiped his bangs from his forehead, wet with perspiration, and his fingers worked like magic along the strings.  At one point, he and Chrissy shared the same mic, belting out the words.  

He made eye contact with you three times, not that you were counting.  Each time longer than the last.  When it was over, he came out and took his beer from you, fingers touching as he did so.

“Eddie, I think I—” you were about to let him know you should probably get going, but he’d already turned, chugging the rest of the beer as he went, and then they were right into the next song.  

Eddie wasn’t sure why you made him so curious, but the voices in his head were screaming at him to shake it off.  Somehow, he’d gone four years without getting involved with a summer person, he’d never even been tempted really.  Nothing good could come of it, especially since he’d probably end up being nothing but a vacation fuck for you to brag to your friends about.  

He glanced around but couldn’t find you during the song.  When he went to check for you at the wall, you were gone.  

---

thank you again for the love on this and for reading!

---

taglist: @micheledawn1975@kurdtbean@katethetank@elvendria@spookysqaush86@somethingvicked@stylesxmunson@laurenlokirby@sapphire4082 @kellsck @motherfckerrr @emxxblog @justdamnpeachy @dashingdeb16 @corrodedcoffincumslut @bexreadstoomuch @ohmeg@marrowfrog00

#Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson series #Eddie Munson fic #Dirty Metal Summer #dms updates #Steve Harrington #Eddie munson x fem!reader #dirty dancing au

[straykids-97]

Call Me by Your Name

"Words have meaning, but names have power."

There are a lot of things in the world that Chris loves... But hearing you say his name, is probably his favorite...

Warnings: soft! Dom Chan, sub!reader, mentions chubby thighs, (Chris is a thigh/ass man, you can't convince me otherwise), slight bondage, manhandling, teasing, unprotected sex, cuddling, and fluff at the beginning and end lmk if I forgot anything!!

Word Count: 2.6k

Chan has many hobbies. Playing piano, singing, writing, you name it. Some of them had long forgotten the day you walked into the lobby of the hotel he was staying in. 

The poor man nearly tripped over his bags when he watched you pull your sunglasses off your face, a bright smile spreading across your face. 

He knew he was a goner when your eyes fell on his shocked face. 

It had been a little over a year since that day, and you two were deeply in love. That much was evident because Chan always had his hands on you; PDA was his favorite. He loved that everyone knew you were his, one way or another. 

“Chris!” You shout, getting his attention from across the pier. You were standing with his friend, Felix, watching people mill about the beach below. Chris looked a little startled when you said his name, his face looking confused and panicked as his brown eyes found yours. It quickly dissolved when he found a smile on your face. “Come here!” You waved him over and he instantly left the booth he was at and joined you by the railing. 

You pointed down at the beast swimming around the wooden pillars of the pier, “Look! It’s a shark.” You whispered, almost as if saying its name would invoke its wrath. He giggled, “I forget sometimes that you don’t see this kind of thing.” You playfully shove him, “Don’t be rude.” You grumble as he pulls you into his side, “You’re like a baby,” he murmured in your ear, sending a chill down your spine. “I like seeing you experience things for the first time.” He nibbled your earlobe and you tried not to squeak. Felix was used to the display of PDA. And luckily he hadn’t heard what your boyfriend whispered in your ear. “Good thing no one swimming right now,” Felix sighed, relieved. “I don’t wanna see something like that.” His implication made you shiver. No one said the words, but you knew what he was talking about. 

“Let’s go to the Ferris wheel!” You plead, trying to change the subject. “Are you sure? It’s getting kind of late.” Chris checked his watch to see that it was nearing 11:30.” You pout at him, “But you promised me that you would take me on it before we left.” He couldn’t argue with that. 

A bright smile spread across his face, “Alright… Let’s go.” 

After the long wait in line, you and Chris manage to get a good spot on the ferris wheel. “Oh my,” You stare at the horizon as the large machine takes you higher into the sky. Chris beams at you, “Pretty, isn’t it?” He asks, making you turn to him. “Of course,” You mirror his cheeky grin. 

The ferris wheel spins a few times and now it’s slowing down to let people off. You realize that you’ll be one of the last people off, not that you mind. You lean into your boyfriend's side and squeeze his arm, “Tonight was perfect, thank you.” You tell him as he squeezes your thigh, “Your welcome, baby.” He purrs. You stiffen, his voice made you tingle with heat. 

“Chris,” you warn. He chuckles at your reaction, “What?” He asked innocently. You glare at him, “You know what.” His hand slides up the bareness of your thigh, “Oh? Do i?” He teases, biting his bottom lip as his fingers dance along your damp panties. The air that Chris sucked between his teeth sounded like a hiss, “Someone a little… Needy? Hmm, princess?” Your mouth falls open as he presses a soft teasing kiss to your lips. 

He rubs the now wet cloth of your panties and you let out a soft moan, “Chris.” You whine his name, digging your nails into his forearm as he grins wickedly. “What baby?” he sucks on his bottom lip before he kisses you again, his tongue dancing along yours, “What’s the matter?” 

Your head is spinning as he rubs gentle teasing rings over your clit. Your head lulls between your shoulders and Chris wastes no time latching his lips to your neck, nibbling your skin as he trails up to your ear, “Baby-” You pant as he pulls away, pulling your skirt down. You were about to protest but then realize that the wheel was closer to the ground, and you were about to climb off. You huff out an annoyed breath and follow Chris out. 

Felix is waiting diligently for you two on the ground, holding up a paper bowl of food in the air like it was the largest bounty he had ever managed to find. You can’t help but laugh at him, “Felix-” Felix interrupts you, “The pier is closing soon but I managed to get you some of those nacho fries you wanted.” He held the bowl to you, “Oh, you have to have some too,” you say, and Felix doesn’t protest. 

“It’s getting late anyway,” Chris checks his phone. “We should drop Felix off and get going.” 

The drive to Felix’s home was shorter than you expected or remembered. Maybe it was because Chris was drawing slow circles on the skin of your thigh, driving you mad. “Bye, Felix!” You wave at him as he offers you one of his cheeky grins before going up the stairs to his house. 

As soon as you roll up the window, you turn and glare at Chris as he pulls away from the curb. “How dare you.” you try to move his hand but he digs his fingers into your plump thigh, “Ah, ah.” He chastises, “Don’t.” His voice is low and threatening. “Your teasing.” You whine and give up, glaring out the window. 

The rest of the way back to your and Chris’s shared home was torture. He was running circuits between your knee and thigh, but never touching you where you wanted- needed him. You were close to smacking his hand away as he put the car into park, but the pause between turning the car off and unbuckling himself made you stop. 

You watch as he moved his seat back, giving you a heated glance before patting his lap. “Come here, Princess.” He pulls his black jean jacket off as you unbuckle and climb onto him. He pushes your skirt up to reveal your soaked undergarments. He lets out a sound that sounded like a mix of a groan and a growl. He brushes his thumb over your clit, and you dig your fingernails into the headrest as he lets out a breathy chuckle. 

“So fucking wet for me.” He sucks on his bottom lip as he looks up into your eyes. “Wanna play a game?” He asks, and the question catches you off guard. “What kind of game?” You inquire, a wicked grin plastering over your face. “A chase…” His voice was low, sending shivers down your spine as his fingers ghosted up your sides, “What about it Doll? Are you up for a game? Or are you too spun tight?” His teeth clamped over your earlobe, making you squeak. Warmth flooded your veins as he spoke again, “I could just keep teasing you… I like to see you beg.” 

You shake your head, “No- I’ll play.” You squeak, earning a chuckle as he pulls away. “Perfect.” He opens his door, “I’ll give you the count of 10 to find somewhere to hide. If I find you in less than 5 minutes, I get to do whatever I want to you…” He trails off, his dark, lust-filled eyes ghosting over you before he continues, “If not, then you get to do whatever you want to me. Deal?” You nod and he smiles, “Alright then. One… Two…” He starts to count and you scramble off his lap and into the open garage door.  

You yank open the door and sprint into the house. Not the kitchen, that’s too obvious… Easy. You sprint up the stairs to the second-floor bathroom and pause, maybe I could trick him? You think and go to the closed bedroom door, cracking it open just enough to look like you didn’t have enough time to close it before running back to the bathroom and sliding into the room, closing the door. 

The room was dark so you had difficulty finding the door handle to the closet. You managed to get it open just as you heard Chris enter the house and you slide into the door, settling on the cool marble floor. You cover your mouth to conceal your panting as you hear Chris singing on the first floor. The blood was pumping so hard in your ears that it was hard to hear what it was. 

Not that it really mattered. You held your breath as he climbed the stairs to the second floor, you realize that he’s singing ‘House of Cards’ by BTS. You glare at the dark door in front of you. That smug bastard singing that song-

You freeze when you hear the bedroom door open, had he taken the bait? You wait and to your shock, he didn’t. 

You hear the bathroom door open and Chris chuckle, “You almost had me.” He admits, turning the bathroom light on, “But I remember closing this door before we left… And your purple robe definitely wasn’t sticking out of it.” You groan as he opens the door to the closet. You slump in defeat, “Damn it.” He holds his hand out and he pulls you to your feet. “Almost, baby.” He grins as he turns to the robe, pulling out the rope. “Come with me.” 

He leads you to your room where he closes the door, “Strip.” He demands. You gasp, “Wha-”

“You heard me.” He glares at you and you instantly follow his demands. You pull your white t-shirt over your head and shove your skirt down your thighs, leaving you in your mismatched undergarments. Chris grins, “White bra, black panties…” His smile only seems to deepen as he closes in on you. “An angel mixed with a demon… How fitting.” He winks and reaches behind you to tie your arms together. 

You gasp as he nudged you back toward the bed. 

There was a smirk on his face as you land on your ass. Gasping, you look up to your smug-looking boyfriend as he takes a few steps back. “Now this…” He trails off, admiring the view in front of him, “I can get used to.” 

You watch as he kneels in front of you, pulling your legs apart and resting them on either side of his shoulders. “I’m starving…” Chris hums, massaging your skin as his rough hands climb higher up to the apex of your thighs. You whimper, biting your lip as his thumb brushes where you need him most, making him chuckle. “Always so needy…” He nibbles the skin of your plump thigh and you nearly faint. 

How could someone be so gorgeous and act so sinful? Maybe Chris wasn’t a heaven send, maybe he crawled up from hell- 

You are drawn back to reality as he licks a bold strip across your panties. You gasp, your head lulling between your shoulders, “Chris- please!” You beg, tears pricking your eyes. He had been teasing you ever since the ferris wheel. He laughs as you squirm, “Awh, poor baby can’t take what she dishes out?” You groan, “S’not funny.” You grumble as he rights himself. 

“Oh? It’s not?” He hums, pulling his black shirt over his head, and stares down at you. “Only funny when your giving, not receiving?” The silence was his answer; he grins down at you salaciously. He grabs you by your upper arms and pushes you toward the headboard, causing a shocked squeak to erupt from your throat. 

He crawls up your body like a snake, and you are a squeaking helpless mouse. Chris holds himself up as he makes fists by either side of your head, staring down at you. His silver chain dangles as he watches you. Chris cocks his head to the side and uses one hand to pull your bra down to let your breasts bounce free. 

You whimper as he shifts back onto his calves and watch as he undoes his belt, the button of his jeans. Biting your lip as he frees himself from the confines of his jeans and holds his cock in his palm. Chris hisses as he drags his hand up the length, “Fuck,” he draws out the word as if it were the best thing he had tasted. He shifts forward and rubs the tip against you, making you become stiff, your mouth falling open. 

“Chris-” you hiccup as he moves your panties to the slide, that same lustful grin plastered on his face. He bites his lips as he rolls his hips into yours, his mouth falling open and his eyebrows knitting together. You both moan into each other’s mouths, satisfaction finally finding both of you. 

He growls and begins to thrust fast into you, your mind instantly becomes mush. Chris grips your throat and buries his face into the crook of your neck, panting as he fucks you into the bed. 

You wish you could hold him, dig your nails into his skin, anything but your restrained hands could only clutch the bedding to prevent your head hitting the headboard. “Fuck- Chris!” You squeal as your pent-up orgasm washes over you so suddenly that you’re breathless.

Fucking you through your bliss, Chris leans up and waits for you to stop clenching him before he flips you onto your stomach. You suddenly realize that your bonds weren’t just for keeping you restrained. 

They were also a handle for Chris to hold. 

He grabs the rope and pulls you so that you were a few inches off the bed, gasping and trying to balance yourself. Chris groans as you adjust to the new position, and he wastes no time fucking you like that, a hand on your hip, and one laced between the soft rope of your robe. 

You hear him groan, panting behind you as he tries to remain in control but you could tell he was slipping. Just as you thought that, he lets go of the rope and your chest falls to the mattress, making you gasp in surprise. He presses his hands into the small of your back, raising his hips up so that he was quite literally fucking you into the mattress. The springs squeaked as he fucked you harder, groaning, “Fuck!” Before stopping, his hips smacked against your ass cheeks one last time before he pulled out. 

He flopped beside you and you curled onto your side, staring over at Chris for a few moments. After his post-nut clarity faded, he turned to you and sat up to untie you. “Are you alright? These weren’t too tight were they?” You shake your head, “No. They weren’t baby.” You smile up at him softly. He mirrors your smile as he tosses away the rope and pulls his clothes off as well. 

Chris pulls you into his chest and gives you a sloppy kiss on the forehead, “Fuck- we should do that more often.” He admits with a sigh. “You didn’t last that long.” You note, making him pinch your side playfully, “I wonder why.” He growls, nipping at your nose. You giggle, pushing at his chest. “That makes two of us then.” You sit up and go to slide off the bed but the grip on your arm makes you pause. “Where do you think your going?” He asks, looking you over. “To the bathroom? To clean up?” 

“Oh no angel, we’re not done yet.” 

©️straykids-97

Tag list: @leeknowri @ilevaar @sky-outta

#skz drabbles #stray kids smut #skz smut #skz hard hours #stray kids hard thoughts #ateez hard thoughts #bang chan smut #bang chan drabbles

[batfambrainrotbeloved]

Batfam quotes as quotes from my dnd group (part 4)(a few mild nsfw so be warned, but again- dnd, so it was inevitable)

Dick:“Zantana is in the fucking shadow realm assembling her Yu-gi-o deck” Duke:"I'm going to look you in the eyes and be difficult, you are well within your right to refuse me" Tim:"It's Saprophysis- okay Zara I know you wanna spell it so it goes F..." Jason:"..." Jason:"You immediately fucked that up-" Tim:"Kon do you not trust me anymore"? Luthor:"Lie to him Kon" Kon:"Nah its just that your now really fucking hot-" Luthor:"Kon NO" Damian:“If he had drowned I would have been like- oh well" Tim to Ra: “May I ask? Oh no- I will ask- Whose terrarium do you crawl around in”? Babs:“She's more of an object” Dick:“Aren't we all” Jason:“..Objects to the system” Steph:“Maybe that's what's on my horizon… glue” Damian:“The Raven queen does not permit you to walk away-” Jason:"But what if I jump"? N/A Goon:“You will watch them make out” Steph:"Oh... oh nooo- anything but t h a t" Jason:“What does a shark cock look like- I'm curious”? Duke:“Does it like.. Roll up”? Steph:“I mean a shark vagina actually looks fairly normal, you look at it and go yeah that's a vagina” Damian:"I hate you all."

#batfamily #batfam #jason todd #tim drake #dick grayson #damian wayne #stephanie brown #duke thomas #batfam incorrect quotes #incorrect batfamily quotes #incorrect batman quotes #incorrect batboys quotes #incorrect quotes #dc incorrect quotes #batman incorrect quotes #dc batfam #bat siblings #dc

[grandlinedreams]

okay hear me out thriller bark angst with zoro. i can just FEEL the angst after he takes luffys pain and maybe reader finds him instead of sanji and he wont set aside his pride and tell them what happened??? angsty with a happy ending??? maybe???

YES please thriller bark was,,a ride and a half (bad) bbjjsnss but I hope I can do this justice for you!!

[Heads up!: mention of thriller bark, hurt/comfort, confession fic! We love confession fics]

Blood.

There's so much of it ㅡ splattered across the broken rubble, makes your stomach twist with fear of what you're going to find as you stumble across the uneven terrain.

Where is he? You'd noticed Zoro's absence amongst your crewmates, the excited leaping around that Luffy'd been doing despite his injuries from Gecko Moria ㅡ and then you'd shared a glance with Sanji, heart sinking before you'd taken off to find the swordsman.

And then you spot him in the epicenter of the mess, arms folded across his chest as blood drips freely from his arms, his chest, his nose ㅡ you're not entirely certain how he's still standing if all of this is his.

"Zoro," you say as you approach, heart hammering in your chest, "what happened? What did you do?"

You know there's no way that Kuma would've let any of you go without a reason ㅡ but Zoro simply looks away, ignoring the leak of crimson down his cheek.

"Nothing," he says flatly, "nothing happened at all."

ㅡ

He still won't tell you.

In the days that follow Thriller Bark, you try to get an answer from him in the most roundabout way you can ㅡ and Zoro remains tightlipped about it.

You know that's just how he is, but it's starting to dig claws of doubt into you. Does he think you're annoying? That alone is enough to make your chest ache, but then there's the other thought, cold and cruel as it circles in your head like a hungry shark.

Does he not trust you?

The thought of it makes you feel sick as you tuck the blanket you've dragged with you tighter around your shoulders, trying not to stare glumly at the night-darkened horizon.

"There you are. What are you still doing up?" You tense as Zoro approaches, fighting not to look at him. When you don't answer right away, he frowns. "What's wrong with you?"

Your fingers tighten around the blanket, and you duck your head. "'m mad at you."

His brow furrows. "Me? What did I do now?"

You don't want to tell him, feeling that it's childish to be so upset over something like this ㅡ but the words tumble from your lips anyways. "You won't tell me anything. Every time something happens, I'm left in the dark about it. Do you not trust me?"

Zoro's head cocks, taking in how tightly you're clutching your blanket, the careful angle of yourself away from him. "Of course I trust you, I just don't see the point in worrying you."

"I worry anyways!" You snap. "Don't you think I worry more when you won't tell me anything? You're my crewmate Zoro, of course I care, even if I didn'tㅡ"

You cut yourself off, let the hushed crash of waves fill the silence between the two of you.

"Finish your sentence," Zoro says quietly, watching you like a hawk. You still won't look at him.

"...even if I didn't love you as much as I do." You tug the blanket over your head, wish that you could disappear. It takes two steps for Zoro to reach you, tug you into his chest. You let him, closing your eyes. "Idiot."

Zoro makes an amused noise. "Yeah, well. At least I'm your idiot, right?"

"Depends. Do you want to be?" It's far from your ideal way to do something like this, especially given the circumstances ㅡ and yet couldn't be any more perfect.

"Yeah," Zoro answers at last, and you listen to the jingle of his earrings as he settles his cheek atop your head. "I do."

#ㅡmine. #one piece scenario #one piece x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro x reader #ㅡanswered. #anonymous

[onyourowndaisymae]

when leviathan falls in love

content + warnings: fluff, canon-typical insecure levi, gn!mc is always there to cheer up their fav boy, maybe some improper aquarium knowledge lol // [masterlist]

word count: ~1.3k

the sunlight, once harsh and overbearing, is now a delightful amber melting over the horizon. clear blue lingers at the top of the sky, a reminder of the long day now disappearing in the rearview of time, fading slowly into the fiery oranges that announce dusk's impending arrival. puffy clouds dotted the wide expanse above. though the illusion wasn’t real, watching the sun set over the steady waves was a sight to behold. 

diavolo’s private beach had been loud all day, full of laughter and chaos as they enjoyed the vacation day to the fullest. now, as demons and angels alike watched a phenomenon only visible from the human world and its recreations in other realms, the beach was quiet. 

“do you see this often where you’re from?” leviathan asks you.  

“every day. and it never gets old.”

the two of you sit at the ocean’s edge, small waves lapping over your legs in a steady rhythm. his tail shifts unconsciously through the water, creating little ripples and splashes by your feet. the water always feels good on his scales– it’s rare that he gets to visit the ocean like this, but it feels like home when he does. 

you wiggle your fingers in the water, almost as if you’re trying to coax his tail closer like some marine animal. his face flushes. are you teasing him? part of him assumes that this is all in good fun– you’re always so nice to him, after all– but he can’t help but feel that something bad will happen. he’s always willing to give you a chance, though, despite his anxieties. his tail slithers through the water and you grin. your fingers brush against the scales softly. it’s nice. 

“it’s like petting a fish,” you say, looking over at him.

“that’s embarrassing.”

“is it? sorry, i didn’t mean it like that. i just– it reminds me of when i’d go to the aquarium as a kid.”

“you got to touch the fish there?”

“yeah!” your fingers stroke his tail with two fingers. he shudders– it feels pleasant, and he looks away before his cheeks flush further. 

“okay i lied. sort of. i didn’t get to pet the fish like that. it was the little sharks and stingrays that i got to pet at the aquarium.”

“is that safe?”

you chuckle a little. levi thinks he’s right to be worried– sharks are dangerous– but you shake your head and explain further. 

“sharks in the human world are a lot more docile than in the devildom. and smaller, too. they have, like, baby sharks in the public tanks. they’re young and comfortable with being touched.”

levi can’t really imagine an equivalent with devildom animals– they’re all far too vicious to be stroked so casually. but he’s seen enough anime to know what you’re describing. in the human realm, aquariums are painted in calming blues, with winding halls and glass walls all giving you peaks into their tanks. that’s where all the dates took place– two protagonists watching the fish, leaning in closer until their shoulders brush and they look away. then one would reach out a pinky and take the others hand, shaking a little in fear of rejection, but it never comes because fate is always so kind to friends turned lovers– 

your giggling breaks him from his trance. to say levi is embarrassed would be an understatement. he’s horrified. upon tuning back into the real world, he finds that his tail has wrapped itself around your wrist, ensnaring you in his grasp as the tip flickers against your arm. 

“sorry!” he cries sharply. 

scrambling forward through choppy waves, he uses both hands to forcibly yank his wandering tail from your wrist. it’s enough to pull you from a seated position up on your knees. you laugh, stumbling forward to catch yourself on your palms before you’re face down, ass up in the shallow waves. 

“it’s fine! it’s fine!”

your reassurances do little to ease his mind. he pulls the heavy appendage into his lap almost defensively– it seems he can’t trust himself not around you for a single moment!

“s-sorry, that was r-rude and probably r-r-really gross, i can l-leave–”

“relax,” you say, grabbing his arm as he starts to make his great escape. you ease him back into his spot– actually, you scoot a little closer, making the situation all the more mortifying– and settle back into a seated position. “i don’t bite. i promise. besides, that was kind of funny.”

“that was horrible–”

“it’s fine, levi. really. if i had a tail, it would probably grab you too!”

that makes him stop for a moment. his tail writhes a little in his grasp, but he holds it tightly against his chest to prevent it from embarrassing him again. 

“huh?”

“yeah! if i was a demon with a tail, mine would probably reach for you too! y’know, ‘cuz i like being around you so much, even my tail wouldn’t want you to leave.”

his face and ears are scorched, but your sentiment makes him feel a bit less embarrassed for his theatrics. 

“you mean that?”

“of course i do!”

part of him still wants to squirm, to dash off and hide under a rock and forget this whole mess even happened. but he takes a look back at the sun setting in the sky, then back at your smile, now looking out over the waves. maybe this is okay. 

“the human realm sounds pretty cool… y’know. sometimes.”

“it is. there’s a lot to love about it.”

suddenly he feels bad for bringing it up. did he strike a nerve? but your smile doesn’t falter, so maybe it’s okay to continue. 

“... do you miss it?”

“the human realm?”

“yeah.”

“sometimes,” you admit softly. “it’s the little things. it’s… it’s the sunsets and aquariums, y’know? little things you don’t think about until you don’t see them anymore.”

he nods. “i think i’d miss sunsets and aquariums, too.”

“you should come see them with me sometime.”

“what?”

“in the human realm. maybe we can spend a day together. appreciate the little things, y’know? if you wanted to.”

“that sounds nice.”

leviathan doesn’t realize what’s happening. it’s not exactly his fault– he’s always had trouble untangling complex emotions from each other, always struggled to express why he was feeling a certain way. all he knows is that he’s warm all of a sudden. his fingers tremble with something, something he can’t place, and he scrunches in on himself to hide from your prying eyes. you know him better than anyone. usually, that’s okay, but today something about that feels extra vulnerable. 

because levi, in that moment, falls head over heels in love with you. 

and it’s okay that he doesn’t realize that’s what’s happening. he has other ways to describe the feelings he holds towards you. you’re his number two, his henry, his favorite human– the most important person in his life.

what he knows now, staring out at the sunset, is that you make his knees wobble and his heart flutter unlike any cheesy romance manga he’s ever read. he rests his head in the crook of his elbow and stares out at the ocean, mind racing. you begin to tell the story of an aquarium trip you took as a child, mindlessly waggling your fingertips in the water again. levi wants to hear you talk about that. 

and maybe, just maybe, when the tip of his tail slithers from his lap and winds between your aimless fingers, he wants that to happen, too.

taglist for this series: @deepseafragments // @darkflowerav // @annoying-and-upset // @katerinaval // @lurkingsnails // @chirikoheina // @all-mights-wife // @notareum // @ollieoven

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me nightbringer #obey me nb #obey me levi #obey me leviathan #obey me levi x reader #obey me leviathan x reader #obey me fluff #obey me imagines #otome

[httpsobi]

BURNIN' UP... “an anti-hero oc/reader-ish x kaldur"

WARNINGS/TAGS + sfw, female reader (no body types, height, skin color described but is described to have dark eyes), ________ is where the name of your choice can be inserted, smoking, light implication of suicidal thoughts.

A/N + the lack of kaldur x reader work is criminal and i decided to be a law abiding citizen cause have you seen that man. also an apology for the lack of work because the brain juices are not flowing and my writing right now makes me want to scream.

if you’re interested, here’s the original post that started this !!

"Why do you smoke?"

She glances at him, burning cigarette hanging on her lips as she struggles with the metal lighter in her hands.

Her response is barely legible, muffled by her multitasking on keeping the cig off the floor and getting the rusty thing in her hands to work.

"Because."

Kaldur watches as the lighter finally offers enough of a spark to start a flame, and she brings it up to the end of her cigarette.

"Because?"

She takes in a deep puff, facing away to watch the smoke disappear into the air before she turns to grin at Kaldur, leaning to bump her head against his shoulder playfully.

"Just cus'."

As she leans away to take another puff, staring off into the horizon, where the sea meets the setting sunset, Kaldur's staring at her. 

"I hear smoking is harmful to humans."

She hums in response.

"So why do you smoke despite knowing that?" He asks curiously.

________ takes another puff, holding the smoking cig off her lips between her index and middle finger as she turns to Kaldur.

"Hm..." She sighs deeply, lips settling into a small smile as she thinks, before she's back to staring off in the distance.

"Don't know. All the oldies I know did when they got stressed- so maybe that's why."

She glances at him. "Is that the answer you wanted?"

"You understand the possibility of disease or death, yet continue to smoke." Kaldur sighs, looking at the sea for a brief moment before his eyes are back on her.

"Do you not fear the possibility of dying that may come from it?"

She blinks at him, dark eyes flitting over his face before her smile returns and her head's tilted at him once again.

"That's just a bonus." She chuckles, nudging his shoulder with hers before she's shuffling her way off the floor. "You worry too much."

Kaldur sighs as he mirrors her, standing up to watch her take another puff.

"I worry because you are a friend."

Before she can respond, the cave door opens, Robin's laughter and Wally's whines drawing closer has her quickly chucking the cigarette to the floor and smashing it into the floor with her boot quickly before she's grabbing it off the floor.

Kaldur raises his eyebrow at her.

"I thought you don't mind people knowing you smoke." He asks in a whisper.

"I don't." She clarifies in a whisper of her own. "But I don't need any of the idiots on this team tryna' look cool and copy me."

Green eyes widen at her face for a moment, before a playful smile settles on Kaldur's face.

"So, you do like us."

She glances at his slightly smug expression before she lets out a laugh, tilting her head at him with a grin.

"I like you guys enough to not become the reason one of you dies of lung cancer or somethin' stupid."

An gloved hand reaches up to pat his cheek as she takes a step closer to him, and Kaldur's face heats up under her watchful eyes.

"Especially you, shark boy- can't have a pretty face like you die too young." She teases. 

With one final pat leaving an flustered Kaldur and nearing Robin and Kid Flash, she's walking away with a smile.

all work n' writing is work of @httpsobi. i ask you please do not copy, rewrite, translate or post on other platforms without my consent.

#antihero oc #antihero reader #young justice x reader #antihero reader x young justice #dc #young justice imagines #young justice headcanons #kaldur x reader #aqualad x reader #httpsobi's work #dc x reader #dc imagines #dc imagine

[sharkdays]

#idk what this is its just silly #i realized when watching ep 15 how much liko has had to just straight up book it #pokemon #pkmn #pokemon horizons #liko #sprigatito #pokeani #anipoke #shark's scribbles

[pointycorgiears]

Crocodile was on the outer balcony, watching the dark waves. It was a moonless night and thousands of stars littered the sky. He gave a puff of his cigar and gazed out on the horizon. Shark Rock, a tiny island off the coast of Karai Bari, was a black silhouette against the starlight. It was given that name because of the tall dolomite that jutted out the middle, resembling a shark's dorsal fin. There was a scout ship milling about it.

It was quiet. Just the soft tumbling of the breakers and Mihawk's shuffling books around the shelves inside to keep him company. Buggy was already passed out somewhere. No Marines, no rival pirate crews, no activity whatsoever. It was peaceful.

He took one more drag of his cigar. As he turned to go inside, something caught his eye.

He looked at Shark Rock. The orange lights of the scout ship seemed higher than they should be. He blinked to clear his eyes, thinking it was a trick of the darkness. But no...the lights hovered above the water...all three of them.

"Huh..."

He watched them for a moment, squinting to focus. Maybe a rogue wave had lifted the boat upwards? That idea was shot down as soon as the lights rose higher....and higher, far past the shoreline of the rock. And they kept going.

And then they moved.

They changed their position, spinning around each other while simultaneously rising, until they were at the tip of the shark fin. The arranged themselves, by some force of their own, into a triangle pattern, hovering over the rock.

"Mihawk..." Crocodile quietly called out to his partner. The other didn't hear him. And he was too transfixed to look to see what the swordsman was doing.

The lights grew brighter.

"Mihawk..."

The lights became so bright that they began illuminating the rock...and then they illuminated something else. Something metallic-like, nestled in between them as if they were attached to it. Triangular, silver, and solid. A light shot from the middle of the thing directly onto the shark fin. As bright as a pillar of light from God himself.

"Mihawk!" His voice was now strained, and he didn't know why. The air on his arms stood up. His hand trembled his cigar. And he didn't know why.

"Yes?" Mihawk answered from inside and began walking to the balcony.

The lights pulsed, flashed, and disappeared in the blink of an eye. Shark Rock was dark again.

Mihawk finally appeared on the balcony. "What is it, Crocodile?"

Crocodile tried to find his words and choked. "Uh...nothing. I just...I thought I saw something."

****

[[About a week later...]]

The beach was nice and moonlit. The palm trees swayed overhead, their fronds dark and gentle in the wind. Crocodile liked to smoke on nights like this. The moon cast a caressing glow over the whole island and it soothed away the hectic moments of the day.

He walked to the edge of the trees, looking across the beach to the water. The waves rolled calm and easy. He took one final drag and blew the smoke through his nose. He bent down to crush the embers of the cigar in the sand. Some flitted along the ground and burnt out. One caught the breeze and flew up past his eye before simmering into nothing. Crocodile turned away to head back through the trees.

The little ember appeared in the corner of his vision. He tilted his head to make sure it went out.

Then froze.

Oh no.

Three lights glowed an eerie orange further down the beach. His gaze was stuck. He could not look away from the three orbs hovering several feet above the sand, casting their luminance on the beach. He paused and waited in the trees.

What are these things? he thought. He never expected to see anything like this again. He stared at them from his hiding spot in the treeline. They could be a threat to Cross Guild. As he observed, he noticed a black shape between the lights, connecting them together into one form just like the first time he saw them. It was slender and narrow. It looked like a cake platter and cover. The lights glowed on the underside, arranged in a triangular pattern. He was fixated on it.

Then the beam shot down from its belly, just like it had on Shark Rock, only this time it hit the sand a few feet below it. Crocodile narrowed his eyes. Something moved behind the light pillar. He blinked again, and there was a humanoid form with long arms and legs. It looked…off. Like parts of it were transparent or made of a mirror.

Crocodile froze. Every hair on his body became alert. It felt like the wind was knocked out of him and he almost gasped for air. Instead he made a quiet inhale of breath in fear of drawing the thing's attention.

The fear.

Crocodile was a veteran as far as battles were concerned. He faced Marines, pirates, Whitebeard, all head on. He was never afraid. He could not be shaken. The thing moved its glittering head.

He was afraid. And he didn't know where the fear was coming from.

He was thankful he was in the dark shadows of the trees. The head moved again, turning, and two black, soulless eyes were suddenly looking in his direction. Crocodile instinctively dropped into a pile of sand next to the tree stumps. He dared not move a single grain on the ground.

The thing turned away. One of its long arms reached down to where the water curled on the beach and scooped some of it up into some kind of vial. Then it shimmered and dissipated into the light beam. The light disappeared, and the orange orbs and black mass began floating out toward the ocean, slowly, and was eventually far enough out to sea that the lights could have been ordinary stars on the horizon. They vanished into the night.

Crocodile crawled as a sand pile all the way back to his tent.

****

Dinner was quiet. Crocodile did his best to keep his fork from rattling in his hand and his hook from carving holes in the table. Mihawk asked him what's wrong. Crocodile couldn't answer. He wasn't sure if he wanted to. Buggy was staring at him to. He drank a little bit more than usual that night. Buggy bumped into him in the hall as they prepared for bed.

"You ok?" he asked. There was something in the clown's eyes. Crocodile nodded.

"Did you see the lights too?" Buggy asked, deadpan.

Crocodile stuttered and his voice cracked. "W-What?"

****

Mihawk had forgotten the book he was reading in the common room of the main tent. He went down the hall that connected the living tents to the main tent, walking brisk and silent with barefeet. He trotted up the stairs intending to retrieve it and go back to bed, but he found something unexpected that made him take pause.

Crocodile and Buggy were still there, talking excitedly about something on the sofa. He peeked from the top steps. They were dressed in their night clothes and Mihawk wondered what was so important that it was stalling them from going to their quarters to sleep. He walked up the last steps. "Why are you two still here?"

"AAAAAHHHHAAIIIIEEEEHHH!"

Mihawk was taken aback. Both Buggy and Crocodile had just screamed, at him.

Buggy's eyes were wide as he was pressed against Crocodile's chest, a knife gripped his hand pointed at Mihwk. Crocodile's hook was also raised in his direction in a defensive stance.

Mihawk lifted a brow. "Are you in distress?"

"We can't go to sleep!" Buggy exclaimed."

And why is that?"

"Because they'll come for us!"

"Who, exactly?"

"The Star People!" Buggy exclaimed and Crocodile silently nodded. His eyes were bloodshot.

Mihawk was now concerned. "What are you idiots talking about?"

****

Mihawk never should have asked. He never should have indulged them. Because then, maybe he could be sleeping snug and comfortable in his room right now. Instead, he had to hear a mad rant from Buggy about the "Star People" and how they were flying around at night in invisible vessels, and they got into people's heads to hear their thoughts, and how Gol D. Roger had seen them once, and how Roger had told Buggy to beware of them, and how they somehow lived among the stars, and...

Mihawk didn't really remember the rest. He stopped listening after awhile. All he knew was that Buggy, and somehow Crocodile, had convinced him that they were suddenly incapable of sleeping tonight because they needed to be on guard and they wanted Mihawk to stay with them in the common room all night. Because he was the most powerful, they reasoned. He could protect them.

While it was flattering that his crewmates thought so highly of him, he had a slight issue when it meant he was going to be protecting them from ghosts and fairytales like a couple of scared children.

Actually, Buggy and Crocodile were terrified. Of what exactly, Mihawk did not know. Crocodile was not easy to scare, so it had to have been something serious. All he knew was that both of them saw something to put them in this state, and it was his duty as the only currently sound mind of the leadership to care for them and be on guard. Cross Guild couldn't afford to be vulnerable. If that meant sleeping in the common room with them, then so be it.

So here he was, bringing some blankets and pillows from his quarters for himself to sleep on. He reached the top of the stairs and walked in the room. Buggy was in a reclining chair with a blanket over him and a very large lion plush toy caught in his death grip. Crocodile was laid out on the sofa, draped by blankets and his coat. Both of them seemed to be settling down at least, finally.

Buggy caught sight of him from the chair. "Did you bring Yoru?"

Mihawk raised the sword with his hand, making sure the blade was displayed sharp and intimidating in the low light.

"Good," Mihawk heard Crocodile mumble from under his coat.

Mihawk sighed. He set his blankets and pillows on the floor between the sofa and chair, arranging them so he would be comfortable. As he began to lay down, he heard footsteps on the stairs. Mihawk stood, taking Yoru with him to the landing.

Daz Bones met him there in the dark. He looked at Mihawk curiously. "I was doing a security check. I thought some children had snuck in here. It sounded like little girls screaming."

Mihawk sighed. "Do not worry. I will handle any children that need attending to."

Buggy yelled from his chair to see what was going on and if they should put the foil on their heads and start running. Luckily, Daz caught on to Mihawk's exasperation.

"I see. Goodnight, Sir."

Daz left and Mihawk returned to his luxurious bed on the floor. He laid down, Yoru dutifully lying next to him within arm's reach. Just in case there were any...intruders, or something.

🛸🛸🛸

#Long post #short story #cross guild #dracule mihawk #sir crocodile #buggy the clown #daz bones #one piece #This just kinda happened. Instead of working on my other fic I wrote this lol #The first part is based on my dad's ufo sighting #I grew up in a very active area. Lots of weird lights in the skies #I just wanted to torment Croc a little bit #Yes I know there are Space Pirates. But this not about them. Spooky.

[riririkinzi]

GOLDEN HORIZONS AND BOLD TIDES

Hey guys! You remember my update about my Goldenheart Little mermaid fic that's been discontinued because I don't like the summary I made and that I'm gonna rewrite it in a different plot? Well I am while collabing with @long-distance-muse we've come up with some HC/Summary and stuff before the actuall fic cause why not (＾＾)人(＾＾)

HERE ARE SOME HEADCANONS/SUMMARY

• Valerin Adopted Bal when he was 2 years old, since his parents were killed that time and the incident gave him a scar on his face which makes him a prince of the merfolk kingdom

• Bal is a curious mer since forever, quite and shy yet he had an enchanting voice that would make anyone fall for him.

• Valerin would often tell stories of the world above from her point of view cause she knew how curious Bal is, and he loves hearing them.

• Merfolks below 16 are allowed to go above the surface if their acompanied by anyone above 16 which is the age of their adulthood.

• A merfolks life span is up to 300 years but when a human and a mers lips joined together for the first time, a mers lifespan would be cut into 200 and the human's lifespan would be the same.

• Merfolks would began to age really slowly when they reach 20 and so would a human if the 2 would kiss.

• When merfolks die their body dissolves into seafoam after their last breath and left what they last wore during their deaths.

• Bal own a garden where his most colorful flowers are gathered together of a circle like the sun.

• When Bal was 13 the noticed the guards brought home a statue of a young man around his age or maybe a year older and it was a head till it's chest.

• Bal somehow was mesmerized by it's young and handsome face, so he ask Valerin to keep the staue as a display for his garden and placed it in the center of the flowerbed and stare at it all day.

• Bal was also known for staring above, when the seas were calm, he would perch himself on a rock and stare upward for hours, watching the dim and distant star, lost in his own thoughts.

• On his 16th birthday the first thing he saw were the fireworks blasting off with different bright colors and stars in the sky so he sat on the nearest rock to gaze at it all night till the morning.

• A while after that night he found Nimona when she was in their shark form when he was collecting human items and together they would explore shipwrecks for human items.

• Nimona could have been adopted but prefer to be his Ward and Bal just accepts it.

• Nimona's still a shapeshifter and mistreated but the humans so she fled to the sea and decided to have her signature form as a mershark.

• At the age of 20, when Bal and Nimona went to the surface he spotted a ship with so many lights and music playing with the fireworks launching at the sky.

• Bal and Nimona reached the lifeboats to get a closer look, and from Bal's pov, he was amazed from the sight, so much joy, laughter, lanters glowing bright and music playing beautifuly with crafted instruments, and people were celebrating.

• But what caught his attention was him, Ambrosius, a Noble from a long bloodline of Knights, the center of attention and the man from his statue that must have grown.

• His heart was fluttered for he could not take his eyes of Ambrosius not even Nimona's voice can stop him.

• Soon a great big storm came, damaging everything from the ship, people panicked as Bal and Nimona got off the boats cause the humans are about to escape.

• Ambro wasn't able to reach the surface as he was drowning, Bal knew he was gonna die and had to save him and swim as fast as he can.

• The storm had calm while sun rose at it's peak, as Bal place Ambro laying down on the sand.

• For a moment Bal couldn't help but gaze at Ambro, his scaley hand carrassing his strong strucured face.

• He slowly placed a soft kiss in his forehead, breathing as Ambro had slowly opened his heavy eyelids halfway through but closes them again.

• Suddenly Bal heard footsteps of running and some shouting, meaning humans are coming so he heads back to the water as fast as he could and hid himself behind the rock.

• As the humans ran towards Ambro, they immediently carried his unconcoius body as Bal watches over while hiding.

• As he swam back to the sea, he couldn't stop thinking about the night he saved Ambro, how he first caught an eye on him and gaze into him.

• Every night he swims to the same shore where he dropped him off, sat on the rock on the shore, watches over Ambro sitting on the balcony as the moon shines bright, wandering on who saved him.

• He was desperate to tell Ambro that it was Bal who saved him and desperate to become human.

• He had no choice but to seek the sea witch as Nimona carefully and quietly follows him.

• Once he enters it's home, the seawitch didn't show her face but only it's eyes and tentacles.

• Bal asked and begged the witch to become human and so the witch agrees to do so.

• She warns him that if he gains true loves kiss with Ambro, before the morning after a year of being human, he'll have the ability to become human and merman anytime he wants, but if he doesn't he'll die and turns into seafoam.

• She also warns him that every step he takes would feel like he's walking on knives and broken glass.

• The seawitch reminds him that her offer isn't free since he must pay the price and that price would be 2 things he owns: his Arm and his tounge.

• So Bal accepts the offer as he lets the witch cuts his arm off and his tounge with her tentacles.

• After giving his tounge and arm to the seawitch, she immediently gathered everything to make the potion.

• Before handed the bottle to Bal once she's done, she also reminded him that he has to drink it on land before sunrise, and once he drinks it he'll feel the pain as if a swords pierce right through his body.

• Once Bal left the seawitch with the bottle he held onto, Nimona swam towards him begging him not to do this cause she doesn't want to lose him, his kissed her forehead and continues to swam up to the surface.

• Once he reaches the land, while the moon is at it's peak, he instantly drank the potion till it's empty, he groaned as if a knife plunged through him then his body collapsed as everything went to darkness.

• When Bal wakes up, the first thing he saw was Ambro looking at him, asking his name, and if he's alright, but since Bal couldn't speak, he stayed silent.

• Bal is taken in by an enchanted Ambrosius who feels a strange inclination to the mysterious stranger.

• He gets cleaned up and dressed in finery, which is when Nimona sneaks in and chews him out since Queen Valerin is worried and they’re mad that he just left them despite her asking not to leave them too (could be used to set up conflict on a sequel) but they ultimately understand how love can make people do stupid things so she lends her help as long as Bal doesn’t do anything stupid like turn into seafoam.

• In his rooms which Ambro gave Bal to rest in, he was trying to practice walking, it was hard and painful at first due to the seawitch's warning, but he learns to get ignore her and gotten used to walking more.

• Bal haves dinner with Ambs and they get to know each other better. Ambs starts theorizing that Bal might be royal because of his etiquette, wit and hopes so cause he down bad right now.

• The next day, they go on a date in the village, and they accidentally cause a scene where Bal’s feet hurt too much that he collapses and Ambs catches him. But that makes the hood he wears fall down, revealing that the noble was in town with a stranger.

• This makes it to the director, who is a guest who was staying with the insistence of Amb’s parents to help them set him up for a political marriage that would increase their political power while making Ambs happy. But the director just wanted another noble in the palm of her hands.

• For almost a year, the Director starts sabotaging their hangouts and tries to constantly embarrass Bal to the point that he is ‘commoner’, there are rare times that her plan worked but most of them didn't.

• Nimona catches on to her plan and informs Bal, who goes toe to toe with the director in the court.

• Ambs sees Bal in his element, and realizes that it was Bal who saved him from the storm, he wants to marry him whether he’s a noble or a commoner.

• Director realizes that the stranger is more of a threat than she realizes, so she switches tactics and instead of trying to chase him out, resolves to kill him.

• Nim, Bal, and Ambs notice and react differently. Nim tries to find a solution to bring Bal back to the sea where he’s safer. Bal starts second guessing because of one trap where Nimona got hurt in. and Ambrosius realizes that the person he loves is in danger and resolves to confront and stop the director before she kills him.

• Ambs confronts the director and is backed into a corner of either he marries the woman she arranges for him or his lover dies and he agrees to save Bal, and Bal overhears that Ambs agreed to marry another and is heartbroken.

• Looking for Nimona to make sure they go back safely and to turn into seafoam from despair.

• For the afternoon till sunset, he sat on a rock at the shore thinking about his death, and for the first time now as a human, tears from his eyes had shed down through his face from all the pain and suffering he's in, all of those sacrifices for nothing.

• Nimona finds Ballister in tears, learns about what happened, and shows him the dagger that she trades her hair for the seawitch, and tells him that he can return to a merman if he just draws Amb’s blood.

• Bal is conflicted but he doesn’t wanna leave Nimona alone with all the hair they have given up for (cause death is significantly harder to arrange visits for) and hides the dagger under his pillow.

• Ambs bursts in, sees Nimona and Bal, Nimona shifts and hides behind Bal and Ambs is afraid. Now Bal realizes he truly has to pick between the sea and land.

• Bal shields Nimona behind him and approaches Ambs, hugging him sadly before leading him to his bed. He beckons Nimona closer.

• Nimona explains situation, Ambs shares his side, lovers realize they can’t be together and Ambs takes the knife and lightly drags it over his heart, just enough to cause blood to spill on Bal.

• Bal faints from the pain of transforming again then lands on Amb's arms, he carries his body to the sea, where Queen Valerin waits for them after Nimona spilled the beans.

• Bal spent the next few weeks in his room in sadness thinking how he never got to say goodbye to Ambro, that 2 worlds can't be together, and most importantly that he trade his tounge, his arm for nothing, forever will he spent the rest of his 300 years of living in silence, but alteast he'll keep his memories of him.

• Valerin ensuing shovel talk and slight respect for the human who cared enough for her son to agree to a loveless marriage.

• Not only Ambro's parents find out the Director's plan but also that Bal was a merman and it was him that saved Ambro, and gave him their blessings immediently.

• Ambs sets Bal down and kisses him on the lips, magic sparkles, Bal got his voice back and finally can now be human-merman.

• Val is impressed by the power of their love and grants Ambs the power to turn into a merman, his life span would extend into 200 years with Bal and offers them to wed in the oceanic courts.

• They wed, kiss, all the wedding night stuff if you’re into that and officially adopt Nimona.

• Head back to land the next day to a fuming Director, shows off the wedding rings, Queen Val shows up in her ocean queen glory and demands the director’s arrest for threatening her heir.

The redesign of Merman Bal is coming soon along with some art and more. But right now enjoy on this list that me and the amazing @long-distance-muse made together

(This is a mixture of the Hans Christian Anderson, Disney and some little inspiration of @mvjerbs Prince Ballister AU)

#ballister boldheart #nimona #ambrolister #ballister blackheart #ballister x ambrosius #ballsius #goldenheart #little mermaid #au #mermaid #merman

[parkermunson]

Siren!Eddie Part 2

(Part 1)

summary: Lone siren Eddie has been on his own for a long time, without other sirens or human food. He's been told since birth to stay away from humans unless they're dead, but you change his nature. He just needs to figure out how to make contact. [2k words]

t/w: Eddie's a siren so mentions of blood/eating people. Lots of cute curiosity.

a/n: This isn't mythically accurate (maybe?). I love fish and know enough about them to base Eddie's mannerisms and thinking off how a fish would. They're sorta like golden retrievers in that they believe by doing one specific thing, it will always have the same reaction. And a siren that collects things? Adorable.

He had never seen a human up-close that wasn't fighting for their life. The moment anyone entered the water, his people were on them like a shark to fresh blood. Or... they were like that.

When humans stopped entering the water, his people left in search of a better hunting ground. Sirens need food to survive, and although they prefer humans, they can survive off the creatures of the water. He had never taken a human life, merely fed off the scraps of a kill brought in by another siren. It was said, the more a siren kills, the stronger they become, the more irresistible. For this reason, he never appeared to humans. He feared he would scare them before even getting close due to his lack of irresistibility. He could practically hear his people lecturing about the dangers of being seen by the wrong human. "They'll spear you, and scale you before you're even dead. Maybe put you in a glass bowl so they can point and stare. No humans unless they're food."

His tail bobbed in the shallow water, scales glittering in the soft, hazy sunrise. Each thrust of a wave against him felt like a beckoning to go back home, to go back to safety. Yet he felt you were different. You waited for him, didn't you? He watched while you looked through your reading, took in your gentle movements with each page flip.

The sandcastle stood tall on the beach still. The shell on top a shiny white. He had heard about the ways of humans raising a white cloth to signify peace, but he had no cloth and was forced to work with what he had. After all, the shell was pretty enough, despite its little size. Had he not seen you, he would have added it to his collection.

You made him a giver, not a taker, combatting his true nature. He had barely even smelled you, and you were already having such an effect on him. The moment you entered the waters, his waters, he knew he had to act. But humans look so different alive than they do when floating dead. He had no idea what to do other than gawk at you beneath the water. Your legs glided through the water flawlessly and you didn't even have fins! Your body heat charged the waves with electricity, giving the water a new life it yearned for after being empty for so long. He had to touch you just once. Reaching out a webbed hand toward your hip, where your tail would have started if you were born in his world, he pinched the skin. Immediately pulling away when you ran, but needing more. The electricity shocked him. You were so warm and soft, no slime or scales. Your energy was a magnet, or perhaps he was lonely after all this time.

The sun had reached over the water's horizon fully, but the sand was still empty, aside from the castle. With each passing moment without you, the castle felt like a taunting joke to him. A glimpse into the world he could never enter, cursed to the water to live in darkness, surrounded by dead things. Perhaps, you would come back if he brought more gifts. You came when he gave you the shell, what about more?

Swimming as fast as his tail could glide, he dove through the schools of fish on their daily route in search of food. The little ones ducking behind their elders as he dove around. At any other time, they would be food, but he was on a mission. The cove was a distance and he wasn't as fast as before. Fish weren't nearly as nutritious to a siren's system as humans, but he made do.

The rock formations wound in wide loops, openings peaking out every which place. It was perfect for him. Enough light streaming in from the distant surface to signify the time of day, deep enough to prevent any surface creatures from finding him during rest, and large enough for his collections. The shells clung to the floor in their dead state, lacking algae or sand. He was peculiar about his collections, making sure they were clean always. In a siren mate, this was respectable and sought after. Even with no one around to impress, he found it helped pass the time.

Did you prefer flat shells? Shiny? Shells with intricate designs? He had so many, he wanted to show them all. Grabbing a maroon-and-white scallop with deep ridges, and a pure white tulip shell with a shiny outer-edge, he set off back to the beach. The water was becoming crowded with the day fish, commencing their business as they did a few hours prior. Dodging his fellow water creatures was a task, and the shells slid around in his slimy hands. If he didn't get them to the beach, the possibility of you not coming back was likely, and it was something he couldn't risk.

The fish parted as he passed, letting the larger body through to prevent harm to their smaller frames. They were aware of him in these waters, swimming around carelessly with no tasks. Many had fallen prey to his hunger, but he didn't seem interested for now. No cause for concern.

The shallow edge of the water was approaching and his speed decreased with every inch. The doubt began setting in that he chose the wrong shells. Now you would never come back. When his tail began dragging along the floor and the crown of his head kissed the water's surface, he stopped. Sinking to the floor in a huff and staring daggers into the gifts in his webbed fingers. He barely noticed your foot dipping into the water's edge in front of him. But then he felt it, that electric charge. A human in the water. Your scent permeated his gills and nostrils. You were here!

How would one approach a human without intent to eat? This was never covered by his people, and his ancestors would surely scorn him for even thinking it. But then you were approaching and he was crawling back with intense fear. You were feet away, staring right at him. His hair floating around him in a crown on the surface being a dead giveaway.

"Hey, it's okay! I won't hurt you," you tried. He stopped moving at hearing your voice.

Slowly raising his head above water, he did his best to keep you from seeing the parts of him non-human. You stood tall above him, the water only coming up to your upper-thigh.

Your giggle was like a melody he would never stop replaying in his head. Were you a new form of siren? Was this why he was drawn to you so much?

"You can really hold your breath! How have I never seen you before?" Your inquisitive nature was unnerving. His human language skills were a little rusty from time. He could always just nod and smile wide, like he would do during lectures from his people. But his teeth! The sharp needles filling his mouth weren't human in the slightest. You would know. He clenched his jaw shut tightly, looking anywhere but you.

"Alright then. Secretive. I like it. Well, this beach is public, so you can use it whenever you like. I'm just happy it isn't only me out here!" Your arms are swinging everywhere while you talk, gesturing at the sand, the ocean, the sky, him. He wants to disappear beneath the water but then he remembers the gifts. You're about to turn around and head back to the beach when he shoves a shell into your hand and hides his webbed fingers beneath the water quickly. You look at him concerned, then to your hand. The shell is beautiful, full of rich browns, reds, and whites. It's a scallop, one of your favorite shells. You run your fingers over the ridges, taking in the texture from years of formation.

"Is this what you were doing down there? Searching for shells?" Your wide eyes draw him closer by a few inches. Should he speak? What if just talking causes you to fall under the siren spell? He nods awkwardly, not wanting to risk it.

"This is a good find! You deserve to keep it," you tried handing it back to him. He dipped his head lower under the water until the tip of his nose was beneath the surface. His head was searching for the gesture for 'no' but his brain was short-circuiting. This was overwhelming and beyond comprehension. He was trying to befriend a human! What would his people think if they were here? On second thought, if they were here, you'd be dead already. Your lifeless body leaving a crimson trail in the water, body chewed through like nothing.

His head was screaming to leave, but his body was drawn to you like a spell. You were so warm, and he was so cold. The water was cruel in temperature. It's why he liked swimming in the shallow edges, where the sand soaked up the sun's heat. He would lay there for hours, warming his body up for the cold nights.

Your hand pulled away at the lack of answer from him. The confusion wracked through you, but this town had its fair share of.. interesting people. And the tourists weren't any better. You closed your other hand over the shell, holding it to your chest. "Thank you." The only answer in return was him rising his chin against the surface again. You smiled and turned back to the beach. He wanted to follow you on your journey back to land but decided that would be unsafe. He'll have to take his time with this. You were worth it. Your voice, your body, your being. He wanted to drown in it.

It felt like hours you sat on the sand reading from your book while he pretended to search for more shells in the shallow water. He would lift his head up every few minutes, pretending to catch his breath. In reality, he was checking to make sure you were still there. The task of hiding his tail beneath the water was tremendously difficult. He had to practically sit on it to keep the fins from appearing. You were a distance away, and would probably say it was a wave anyway, but he didn't want to risk it.

After some time, he got tired of pretending to swim around. He wanted you near again. Without second guessing, he threw the second shell in your direction. The hollow shell bounced off the tip of your book and landed on your reclined chest with a little bounce. You closed the book and picked up the object to examine closely, admiring the shiny surface and bright color. Sitting up, you look at the stranger and smile. "It's beautiful! A tulip!" Covering your eyes from the sun, you spot him nodding from the water.

The sun's heat sizzles off the water, reflecting in a blinding light that hurts. You can barely see anything, can barely even see him. It was getting hotter by the second, and your body was suffering. Looking at your phone, you realize it's past noon. A good time for lunch.

"Hey, I think I'm gonna make something to eat." His throat lurched at the human, something he would usually see as food, say the word 'eat.' "You're welcome to join me! I live right over the dropoff." That awkward silence again. Not an answer, but enough to guess from. "Or you could keep looking," you trailed off with a frown. "It'll give you some alone time on the beach, I guess. But I'll be back in a bit, if that's okay?" He nodded from the water at a hurried pace. He didn't want you to leave, but it would give him enough time to grab more shells for this pretend game. You waved him off and headed over the dropoff, glancing over your shoulder once out of curiosity. He hadn't moved an inch.

When you were out of sight, he pushed his tail out from beneath him, finally flattening it out straight in a long stretch. He floated like that for a while, taking in the possibilities that could come from this breakthrough. Regardless of the outcomes, he had to make you see him. And for that, he needed more shells.

Tagging some cuties: @strangerthings1983fan @harrys-tittie @jobean12-blog @idkidknemore

Part 3

#eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #siren!eddie #siren!eddie munson #siren au #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #mandi writes #parkermunson

[kafus]

i just watched HZ013-HZ016 with my 63 year old mom. update on her opinions:

- iono/nanjamo is “creepy” and “scary” because of her face/sharp teeth (i don’t think my mom has seen a shark teeth anime girl before. she’s weirded out by most unusual anime character designs LOL)

- SHE LIKES DOT YAYY. we had a funny moment when dot was running and collapsed from exhaustion where my mom laughed, i said “she’s just like me for real” and then my mom laughed again in agreement bc she knows me so well. i’m a twig that can’t run

- her fav character is friede because “he’s cool and has a charizard”. and she’s so right

seeing how my mom, who isn’t a pokemon fan and is also boomer aged, reacts to and enjoys horizons is some of the most entertainment i’ve had all year. it’s so fun and i’m happy she’s watching it with me LOL

#kiki was here #kiki.txt #horizons

[zedif-y]

judgement day.

Eight days until the end of the world.

You look down at your watch, and think, that’s plenty of time.

I.

There is laughter and there is blood on that first day, the beginning where nobody is really all that afraid. The news looms over the horizon, but doesn’t seep in, doesn’t soak into your bones. Oil and water.

II.

There’s fire. It’s red-hot as it scorches, burns off your fingerprints. There’s soot in your friend’s hair. Hell-forged, you call yourselves, sweaty and singed and running from danger. We’re hell-forged, you and I.

You and me. Me and you.

Slowly, you start to build.

III.

Howling wolves echo in your skull, clawing for release. You blink, and there is fear in your friend’s eyes, a knife in your hand. Blink again, he is against a wall. Blink, the knife is gone. There’s a piercing scream. 

But not yours. Not his.

Never his.

You remember it in parts: a knowing look from a friend, another watching your back. Moonlight shining down. The glint of a blade, long hair in the wind.

Five days before the end of the world, you killed someone who trusted you.

IV.

They’re chasing you.

They’re chasing you, hunters after prey. Sharks to blood. Old allies blur into enemies blur into ghosts, and your legs ache and there’s no escaping it but you know damn well that you will try. Copper-tang crimson sits between your teeth, dripping past your lips.

Come and get me, you laugh, the sound grating against your throat. You hear the gnashing of teeth, nails scraping against stone. Come and get me, asshole.

You survive. Through all odds, by the skin of your teeth. You survive.

Red cakes under your fingernails.

V.

The thing about the past is it will not go away. It haunts you, battered and bruised and grinning with missing teeth. He smiles at you and he looks like a lover, beautiful as a night terror. He waves at you, and you beckon him closer, and the words I trust you tumble from beaten lips.

Swallow back the acid. Grit your teeth.

He follows you and it feels almost familiar. Hand in hand, past enemy and past love. You talk nonsense, watch as he giggles and nods. If you still loved him, you would tell him to run.

You grin, and you beckon him closer.

The thing about the past is it will not go away. So you blow up the body, burn what remains.

Bury the hatchet. Dig a grave.

VI.

On the sixth day, it sinks in.

VII.

On the day before the end of the world, you watch your best friend die.

On the day before the end of the world, you wonder when you will follow.

VIII.

Eight days you’ve waited. Eight days you’ve survived.

You’ve buried more bodies than you can count, your grief heavy as an axe, deadly as a blade. 

Part of you hopes to be the last one standing. The last face on a ruined world. It doesn’t matter, but it does. You’ve come so far. You’ve lost so much.

The sun beats down on a scorching field. You think of friendship, forged in hell. You think of fire.

You think of love.

But this story ends one way, and it isn’t soft nor sweet. There is no glory, no sun-burning triumph. As your blood seeps into the grass, you do not face the sky, the heavens above.

Faces and memories rush behind your eyes. People you love, people you don’t. As the light begins to dim, you wonder, distantly, if people are cheering.

The world ends, but not with you.

—

Eight days until the end of the world.

Impulse looks down at his corpse, and thinks, that wasn’t nearly enough time.

#ryan's writing #limited life #limited life spoilers #i guess? #impulsesv #limited life smp #limlife smp #tangpulse #<<if you squint #impdubs #<<implied #trafficblr #do i need to tag trafficshipping if bdubs and impulse were canonically married #KJDGHHJSDG #trafficship #trafficshipping #trafficshipblr