#Bright Hope Cove

[wheretwofacesmeet]

[navybrat817]

Hold You Tight: Part 10

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 9 | Series Masterlist | Part 11

Chapter Summary: You're determined to have a good day today.

Chapter Word Count: Almost 4.4k

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, tension, mild dirty talk, unease, possessiveness, inner turmoil, slight feels, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight and thank you for your patience! Hope you lovelies continue to enjoy. Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo . ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

The next day you cautiously looked around your bedroom as you opened your eyes. You expected to find Bucky in bed beside you since you wouldn’t have put it past him to sneak back into your place once you fell asleep. It was a relief to find yourself alone. It also surprised you that you slept so soundly, but the night before had mentally worn you out. Bucky and his crew were a lot to handle.

If you truly accepted that you were going to be Bucky’s girl, you’d have to get used to them.

“No,” you whispered. You weren’t going to accept it. Not today. Bucky may have taken a few hits at your inner armor, but you’d repair it. You couldn’t give in. But last night, thinking of asking him for your own space at his place, he was luring you in his direction. You had to tread carefully and not lose your resolve.

You got out of bed and went to retrieve the necklace that Bucky gifted you on your first “date”. The diamonds sparkled and reflected the light as you admired them. Beautiful, lavish, something you could easily lose if you weren’t careful. A gift for a pretty doll. Not for someone like you.

“Just buy me a collar and show the world that you own me,” you muttered.

Grabbing your phone, there were no new texts or calls from Bucky. You weren’t sure if that was a good or bad thing, but you’d take it as a small win that he hadn’t blown up your phone. Smiling to yourself, maybe you could have another small win today. An opportunity.

“Hey! I know it’s short notice, but are you free Saturday? Maybe we can do a small girls' day outside of the city if you aren’t busy with wedding prep.” You sent to Addison. “And I can’t wait to hear about The Terrace.”

It didn’t matter to you that Bucky had some sort of power in various parts of the city, more than you could possibly imagine. You were still your own woman and you wanted to spend time with your friends. After he had a hand in messing up your night with Addison, he owed you that. And the best part? If you went outside of the city, it meant you could have fun at a place he couldn’t touch.

Right?

“The Terrace was AMAZING! I can’t wait to tell you all about it. And are we sharing a brain? I was just getting ready to text you! How about The Winery at Hunter’s Cove? It’ll be fun!” Addison sent back.

You frowned at your phone. The Winery at Hunter’s Cove was beautiful and the perfect place to relax with a drink and good company. Reading that should’ve filled you with joy, but your shackles rose up. It didn’t feel right. Did Bucky or Nick or someone have anything to do with that?

After a second, you laughed. Your nerves were continuing to get the better of you. It wasn’t as if you could go the rest of your life with second guessing everything. It would drive you crazy.

“Just give me a time and place to meet and I’ll be there. Can’t wait!”

A bright smile on your face, you got ready for the day with a spring in your step. A spark of optimism lit within you and you let it spread as you set out your work clothes. You even sang to yourself in the shower and drew a smiley face in the fogged up mirror before you dressed yourself. It was going to be a great day.

“I’m walking on sunshine. Whoa-oh,” you sang as you opened the front door.

“And don’t it feel good,” you heard from the hallway.

“Shit!” Your heart pounded as Bucky stood there with an amused smile on his face. How long was he waiting there? Did he know you were leaving right now? “Bucky, what are you doing here?”

God forbid the man give you even half a day to breathe.

“I know I said I’d try to meet you for lunch, but I couldn’t wait. I thought it’d be nice to take you to work instead,” he said, his eyes still sparkling as he moved closer. An impeccable suit like always, but today he wore an aqua shirt. He was really leaning into the shirts that enhanced his eyes. “You’re in a chipper mood. That’s nice to see.”

You were in a bit of a chipper mood until now. No, you wouldn’t let him showing up put a damper on things. “Just determined to have a good day,” you explained, looking at his arm before you took it. “I’m actually glad you’re here,” you added. You did have to talk to him about Saturday and, well, whatever the future would bring.

“Yeah? I’m glad I’m here, too.” His eyes lit up as he glanced at you. He looked over the moon and you had to sweep your gaze down to avoid his stare. “Is it bad if I admit I stayed up way too late staring at your photo?” He smiled, leaning in like he was telling you a secret.

If you had to guess, he likely jerked off to your picture. How long would that keep him satisfied? His control had to be diminishing. “A picture of me is hardly a reason to lose any sleep.”

“Worth every second of lost sleep. I definitely need more pictures.” Your stomach dropped when his smile widened. “You know, the more I think about it, I kind of want to replace that painting in my office. Maybe it could be a photo of us or even just you? Or Steve could paint us! I know he’d love that.”

Guilt brewed within you since he sounded so enthusiastic and you would likely crush that mood, but you pushed that feeling aside. There was no reason for you to feel bad in the least. “So, I’m going out with my girlfriends on Saturday. Somewhere outside of the city,” you blurted out to change the subject, staring at the elevator door when the smile slipped off his face.

You were suddenly terrified of his reaction and you were about to step into a very small space with him. There would be no hiding. So much for treading carefully, but it was better in this case to just rip the bandaid off.

Bucky’s stare was almost impassive as you went into the elevator, which had your heart speeding up. “You’re going outside of the city?” His voice was soft, but had an edge that threatened to cut through you like a knife. “Without me?”

“It’s just a short girls trip. A bit of time with my friends. You understand, right?” Your voice cracked, your body tight with tension. “You and I didn’t have any plans, so maybe you can hang out with the guys.”

“I don’t want to hang out with them. I see them all the time,” he said, bringing his lips to your ear with a shaky breath. “I want to be with you.”

The air thickened, the elevator feeling smaller than usual as you considered his words. He didn’t sound upset that you wanted to go, but because you wanted to go without him. Sympathizing with his loneliness wouldn’t help your case, not when he manipulated things in his favor.

“I know this may not be easy, but you need to accept that I have friends, Bucky. That I had a life before you… showed up. It wasn’t much, but it was mine,” you said, not daring to turn your head and risk his lips touching yours. “It’s good for us to have things outside of each other. And may I remind you what you said on our first date? You said you wouldn’t stop me from spending time with my friends or having hobbies.”

Bucky almost seemed to need you and no one had ever needed you before. But he couldn’t completely depend on you for whatever it was he needed either. Relying on you too heavily wasn’t healthy. It wouldn’t just smother you, it would eventually destroy you both.

“I remember,” he said, his voice barely audible. “I just don’t know if it’s safe for you to be so far away from me for the time being. I think I’ve said I don’t even like you being in this building because my place is safer than yours. And if I haven’t, I’m telling you now.”

Worry crept into your face as you inched away a bit and faced him. “Why wouldn’t I be safe going out with my friends?”

His blue eyes narrowed, but there was no annoyance there. “Kotyonok, you may be innocent in some ways, but you aren’t naive or that forgetful. I told you last night that you need people looking out for you if you’re with me,” he said, your stomach sinking more. He was right. “And you must be aware that I have my hand in things outside of the club. You’ve seen some of the company I keep. Do you think everything we have was earned through honest, hard work?”

The men Bucky surrounded himself with lived in the gray. You couldn’t ignore obvious signs, like how Marc reacted to hearing his name. Bucky even treated your courting that way, breaking in and intimidating you. “It’s none of my business,” you said. The more you knew, the harder it would be to get away. “I haven’t even looked for anything about you online.”

“The harsh reality is that it’s going to become your business, at least it will to a certain extent. I can’t leave you in the dark, but I don’t want you fully exposed.” He sighed, suddenly looking tired. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say there was a hint of regret there. It disappeared quickly. “As far as looking online, you probably wouldn’t find much. We work hard to keep it that way. I don’t even have social media. Though if I did, it might just be photos of you and the two of us together.”

“So, you don’t want me to go out of the city for my safety?” You asked, stepping off the elevator. You wanted to believe that was his twisted reason for having you move in so soon and not because he wanted you close for his own selfish desires. Wasn’t it selfish though for dragging you into his world without so much as a warning or giving you a choice? “Do you really think people outside of your circle know we’re ‘together’ yet? You said it yourself, you don’t have social media and it isn’t like I’ve been in your life for that long.”

“As far as I know, no one is aware,” he said slowly. After what he did to John for merely insulting you, you prayed no one would be stupid enough to cross your path and try to cause you hurt or harm. “But I don’t know if I want to take the risk.”

“You wouldn’t be taking the risk. I would. And it isn't fair that you’d expect me to put my life on pause,” you argued, seeing Ray standing outside of the car. How the hell did they get a spot right in front of the building? “Ray, would you kindly tell your boss that I should go out with my friends on Saturday? Please?” You cut him a pleading look, needing this.

Ray blinked twice. “I’d rather not get involved in that quarrel,” he said, looking at his boss. “But perhaps if she really does want to go and you’re unable to accompany her, boss, someone could discreetly keep an eye on her.”

“Yes! That’s a great idea. Thank you, Ray,” you smiled before Bucky could interject. You wouldn’t normally agree to someone hovering nearby, but right now you could kiss Ray for the suggestion. “See? I get time with my friends and you don’t have to worry about my safety. Problem solved.” You even flashed him a soft smile for good measure.

You weren’t sure if it was your smile, the stare from his bodyguard, or the combination that made Bucky nod, but your heart soared. “I guess I’ll have to see if someone is free.” He let out a humorless laugh and raked a hand through his hair as Ray looked at his feet. “Using one of my men to sway me? You’re playing dirty. I’m impressed.”

“Or maybe I’m just learning how to play your game,” you said, ducking into the car with Bucky right behind you. The happy feeling was back in full force. Had Bucky not agreed, you would’ve been defiant and gone anyway. Who knew how that would’ve gone? This was a better compromise. For now.

“Ray really does have a soft spot for you,” Bucky said once the door was shut, taking your hand. “It would worry me if he wasn’t so loyal.”

“Worry about what exactly?” You asked.

“Him trying to get you away from me.” He smiled a bit, making you shift in your seat. Did he know you had tried to get Ray on your side? “But he isn’t a man to typically let his emotions drive him. He’s loyal.”

“He won’t try to get me away from you, Bucky. He knows you’re happier because I’m in your life and wouldn’t risk changing that,” you said, thinking back on your conversation with Ray. It wasn’t like you wanted to assure Bucky that you two would be together, but you also didn’t want his bodyguard on the man’s bad side indirectly because of you. Not when he watched out for you. “Maybe he isn’t a man driven by emotions, but I think he does care about your emotions.”

“Maybe,” he smiled softly as he kissed your hand, making you gasp when he gently nipped one of your knuckles. “There’s something else you want to say. I can feel it.”

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. “If I move in with you, I need my own space.”

He looked surprised. Not entirely, but there was still a flicker there. “So, you’ve accepted that you’re moving in with me. I’m glad to hear that.”

“I said ‘if’, Bucky.” You had to emphasize that. “I’m not saying it’s going to happen, but you do need to give me some leeway if it does.”

His tone was calm, dare you say serene, when he asked, “And what exactly would your own space entail?”

“An area for me. Not for you, Ray, or anyone else. Just me,” you said. Nothing in your life felt sacred anymore. You needed your own sort of safe haven and a place to relax, even if it was in the prison he helped create. “That’s important to me and I won’t budge on that.”

“Okay. A space just for you if that’s what you want. I won't let anyone go in there,” he promised.

Your gaze was skeptical. Why was he being so agreeable? Well, agreeable to a point. “That would be really nice,” you said, your eyes shifting from suspicion to gratitude.

“But as far as sleeping arrangements, I want you in bed with me,” he said, his voice raspier as his gaze went to your legs. “It’s a shame you have to cover yourself up for work, but I’m looking forward to helping you out of your clothes. I wonder if the smell of those petals seeps through the fabric. I can’t wait to find out.”

“Bucky,” you whispered, his gaze telling you to part your thighs. You didn’t, even when he sighed.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t get us worked up and make you late for work,” he said, sounding anything but sorry before he reached for something beside him. At least he didn't push it further. “Before I forget.”

“What’s this?” You asked as he handed you a book.

“The one from the shop yesterday. You left it here last night.”

“Oh.” You were so eager to get out of the car that you had left it behind. There was also a small stack of books on the other seat you hadn’t noticed before. “And what are those?”

“I went back to the shop and got more from that same author,” he smiled, brushing his knuckles over your cheek. “You seemed to like the book you were reading and I don’t recall seeing any of those books at your place.”

The gesture took you by surprise. “How? The shop opens later and was closed by the time you brought me back last night.”

“They were kind enough to open a little earlier than usual for me,” he said.

You ran your hand over the spine and smiled before you could stop yourself. It was the kind of gift you wished for, books to line your shelf. “You didn't have to do that,” you said when you caught him staring. “But thank you.”

“You have such a beautiful smile,” he whispered, brushing his hand over your cheek again before he took out his phone. “And you just inspired me.”

“How did I do that?” You questioned, watching him quickly type a message. “And should I be scared?”

“I can’t spoil the surprise,” he winked, typing a bit more. “But I do have a plan and I think you’re going to like it.”

“We’ll see about that,” you said, your mind drifting to work. “I’m curious. You mentioned that the last flower your dad gave to your mom was a black dahlia. Was that her favorite flower?”

He paused before he put his phone away. “No. She loved alstroemerias.”

“The Peruvian Lily. Those are beautiful,” you smiled. His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “That’s one of the flowers I like to donate to the hospital because they have no fragrance, but still brighten up the room.”

“I know.” He swallowed, a shine in his eyes before he blinked a few times. “Yellow ones.”

Your eyes snapped to his face. “I donate a lot of flowers. It’s oddly specific that you know I donate yellow alstroemerias.”

“I told you I did my research on you,” he whispered.

“So, what? You got… hospital footage or something of me?” You felt your blood boil. How many boundaries did he cross, rules did he break? “I saw the look you gave Thor. You didn't want him to mention that, did you?”

His gloved hand curled a bit. “He was complimenting you, but I wasn't ready for that conversation. At least, not last night.”

“Why not?” You asked. Why did it matter?

“Because you already think I’m crazy,” he said. You didn’t deny that. “And what I tell you, you may either agree with me that fate brought you into my club and life or that I really am crazy.”

“I don’t know what that means,” you said. The grave look in his blue eyes gave you pause. The fond gazes and even the heated, intense ones, you were almost used to them. Sadness? That was something else.

“You’ll find out soon enough.” He nodded toward the window. “You should head into work.”

You didn’t realize the car stopped. Work would be a good distraction anyway. “I’ll get the books later.”

“And I’ll walk you to the door,” he offered.

Helping you out of the car like he did every other time, he guided you toward the flower shop with a possessive touch. “You know, you haven’t asked where I’m going on Saturday.”

“I’m sure I’ll get it out of you, especially if one of my men needs to be nearby. Maybe I can buy you a new outfit to wear,” he said, tracing a finger along your neck. “Or maybe a collar to show off while you tell your friends all about me.”

“A collar.” Your body went rigid, remembering what you muttered in your bedroom. “Why would you…”

“Maybe I’ll see you at lunch? I’d love to look around the shop.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Have a good day and be good,” he added, opening the door and giving you a pat on your ass before you went inside.

You looked over your shoulder as he went back to the car. The first thing you were going to do when you got home was tear your place apart from hidden microphones or cameras. You should’ve done that the second he broke into your place. You live and you learn.

“And who is that handsome young man?” Mrs. Crandle asked from behind the counter.

You smiled as you turned toward your boss and the owner of the shop, one of the kindest people you had ever met. It was a good sign that she didn’t recognize Bucky. “Someone who thinks he’s my boyfriend,” you teased a little. You couldn’t burden her with the whole truth.

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh?” She knew you hadn’t dated in ages. “And what do you think?”

“I think he’s very determined to win me over,” you said, going to put your bag away.

“Let him!” She called after you.

“Maybe!” You called back.

As you went about your tasks, you pondered on what Bucky had to tell you and the anniversary Marc mentioned. It had to do with Bucky’s mom, it had to, but what did that have to do with you? Not every customer became registered in the system, but your team did a great job of keeping order history for deliveries, parties, and more. Nothing came up when you searched “Barnes”.

You tapped your finger against the keyboard before you straightened up. Hospital donations likely wouldn’t have a name saved since you weren’t usually given the patient names. You did, however, keep track of the dates. If you knew the range to check…

“Excuse me?” A deep timbre pulled your attention away.

You glanced up to find one of your regular customers towering over the counter. Blue eyes crinkled behind his glasses when he smiled, his dark curls adding to his boyish charm. For such a large and imposing man, he kept his shoulders hunched and voice gentle. Like he was trying to make himself look friendlier. “Clark, hi. Sorry about that,” you said, closing out your search screen. Mrs. Crandle was back in her office and you wouldn’t make her help him. “How are you today? A dozen red roses, right?”

Clark usually showed up once a month to get a dozen roses for his girlfriend. No more, no less. But the mention of his usual order made his smile disappear. “Actually, I don’t think I’ll be needing those today.” He took off his glasses to clean them when you set out the bouquet, though there wasn’t a spec of dirt on the lenses. “I, um… Well, I’m not in a relationship anymore. We broke up a couple of weeks ago.”

“Oh. I’m so sorry.” You felt terrible, especially since you weren’t sure what to say. It wasn’t your business regarding why things ended, but he always seemed so happy when he purchased the roses. “Are you okay?”

He put his glasses back on, his eyes holding a weight of sadness. “I’m sorry, too. And I’m not sure if I’m okay. Everything seemed fine and then it fell apart.” He sighed, looking around the shop. “I’m not even sure why I came here today.”

You felt for him. You really did. “Well, it could’ve been part of your monthly routine and you went on autopilot? Or you wanted to go somewhere familiar?” You suggested, looking around, too. “Or maybe you thought the bright atmosphere would help?”

He nodded after a moment. “It could be any of those things.” Scratching the back of his neck, he sadly chuckled. “It’s just an empty feeling being alone again, you know?”

“I do know. Emptiness can weigh a lot and it’s very lonely to walk alone. But that walk, no matter how long or short, makes us stronger. It gives us a chance to grow until we find someone to walk with us again. And when that happens, things will look much brighter.” You said, your heart heavy as you selected a couple of roses from the bouquet. “I’m sorry. You didn’t ask for my input and that’s probably the last thing you want to hear.”

“No, that’s… Thank you. You’ve always been really kind. Insightful.” He glanced down as you put the roses in his hand, his large hand closing around the stems. “What are these for?”

“I’m happy to help,” you smiled. “They’re for you. No charge.”

He gazed at you before he placed them back in your hand. “You take them.”

You weren’t sure why the gesture made you feel uncomfortable, but it did. Maybe it was because he was fresh out of a relationship. “Oh, no. I couldn’t. I’m surrounded by flowers,” you said, gesturing with your free hand. “You keep them. Or you could always give them a neighbor or someone who needs cheering up.”

“You sure you don’t want them?” He asked when you passed them back again. You pulled your hand away quickly, refusing to let it linger. “You really have been so kind to me whenever I’ve stopped in.”

“Well, you’re a great customer.” You also didn’t want to have to explain to Bucky that a customer tried to give you flowers. “Take them. I insist.”

Flashing you a warm smile, he relented. “Thanks,” he said, hesitating when he went to turn away. “Maybe I’ll see you around sometime?”

“I’m sure you’ll see me at the shop,” you said carefully. Unease filled you, which didn’t make sense. Clark was a regular customer who wanted nothing to do with you. But if he did have some sort of intention, you weren’t about to lead him on. “I hope things look up.”

Clark hesitated again before he pushed his glasses up and headed out of the shop without another word. You swallowed, staring at the remaining roses as if they would tell you what to do next. For now, you’d have to brace yourself for Bucky stopping by for lunch. And maybe you’d ask him if there were any devices hidden around your place and save you the trouble of tearing the rooms apart.

Though you had a feeling you weren’t going to like the answer.

Awful nice of Ray to suggest some leeway, wasn't it? Is Clark going to be a problem? What's Bucky going to think? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[mochinomnoms]

Ooo imagine meeting Mama and Papa Leech before you and your eel get together but the parents know their son loves you.

🥺 they'd be so happy that their freak son(s) found someone so sweet and patient. The actual interaction depends on where you're meeting them, though.

Maybe NRC is having a family weekend where everyone's parents, siblings, and caretakers come to see the school. Perhaps they have activities and club booths like at the SDC, and Floyd is showing them around campus, demonstrating his new parkour skills much to his mother's horror and father's delight. Mr. and Mrs. Leech are dressed quite nicely, from their shoes to their hair, they're posh, polite, and rather mafia-esque much to everyone's concern. Maybe they don't want to know what the Leech family does for a living… Regardless, Floyd takes delight in dragging you over to meet his parents. His mother, a tall, slim lady with a sleepy, but sweet face, greets you with a firm hug. She gives Floyd a run for his money with the way she nearly squeezes you like a tube of toothpaste. She calls you by your name, which is a surprise as you haven't introduced yourself yet and Floyd's only called you Little Shrimpy in front of his parents.

“Of course I know your name, it's quite rare that Floyd calls any of this friends by their name, so I remember yours very clearly. He loves fawning over you during our calls you know, it's so sweet seeing my boy with a crush—”

Floyd, covering her mouth with his hand, mutters something about not making him look uncool as he decides to drag her away to where Mr. Leech was studying Jade's club booth.

On the other hand, maybe Jade decided to take you on a trip to the northern Coral Sea, where his family takes residence in a summer home. The water is still fairly cold, but there's no ice floes anymore, so it's actually quite nice, as long as you don't dive into the deep sea. No, Jade takes you to the home that's settling in an underwater cove, not too far from the reef, but deep enough that it's private. Jade wanted to show you around the sea to get a gauge of likely you'd be to want to stay there forever (for no reason in particular.) The stripes on his hips and arms occasionally glow a light aquamarine every time you reach for him. They glow particularly bright when you have to hold onto him when swimming, arms so tightly wrapped around his chest that he's surprised you can't feel his heart pounding against his rib cage. This time, it's his father, a large, thick, eel merman with blue coloring and navy stripes, that makes a comment.

“My, my Jade. I and here I thought you were grown enough to control your glowing. Does your sweet friend here know why you're so bright and colorful around them? Hehehe, little one, should I have you start calling me father now or after the wedding—hey! Why are you swimming off now, your mother isn't going to be any nicer about it than I!”

Jade was ignoring your pointed questions and his father's cackles as he briskly swam back to the house to his mother. His only hope was that she was too preoccupied with Floyd to point out his now LED bright stripes. It's like if blushing was also a bright orange neon sign screaming, “I'M IN LOVE WITH YOU PLEASE, I'M BEGGING—” to you every time he looks at you.

[dilatorywriting]

Monster Mayhem: Siren's Song [Part 1.5]

Gender Neutral Reader x Vil Schoenheit Word Count: 4.6k

Summary: There is a little, annoying human trapped in this bay with him. And he's going to eat them. (Vil's POV)

[PART 1] [PART 1.5] [PART 2] [PART 3] [PART 4] [PART 5]

There was a little, raggedy human staring up at him from the sand, and Vil had never felt so miserably persecuted in all his years.

The thing had been bound to him in a mess of ropes and frantic, bipedal flailing, and he’d honestly thought that it had drowned. Hoped that it had drowned. But no, apparently he couldn’t be quite so lucky. None of his pod’s raids had ever gone so terribly, and normally he was better able to keep his head about him. But it had been Epel’s first attempt at sneaking on board one of the grand, creaking, human vessels, and maybe he’d been a touch concerned about it. Like a fretting parent sending their guppy off to the deep for their first solo-swim. And perhaps he’d struck a bit too quick and sharp when he saw things headed South. Not taking the normal care he would to assess for traps, or weapons, or stupid humans and their equally stupid, fraying ropes.  

But none of that mattered. It was hardly a crime to want to protect your family. It had happened, that was the end of it. There was no changing things. And now he was here. In this cove. With that thing.

You pedaled backward in the sand like those two legs of yours hardly worked at all, and even though it looked like you were retreating (rightfully so, at least you were smart enough to realize this was a lost battle), Vil still bared his teeth in a challenge. Because he was angry, and sore, and at the moment you were the cause of every, single one of his problems in the world. He tossed his tail in the surf, splattering stinging bits of ice water into your face.

“Stop! Stop!” you squawked, wheeling away like he was dousing you in acid rain rather than a bit of pissy water warfare. “I get it! I won’t come near you, jeesh! I wasn’t planning on it to begin with!”

“Of course you weren’t,” he spat. “From the looks of you, you don’t plan much of anything at all.”

You didn’t respond to his scathing insult, only kept scooting yourself back against the sand on legs that still apparently refused to work. Or maybe you’d simply forgotten about them. You seemed like you could be the type.

He ground his talons into the damp sand at his hips and felt the ridges of the fins along his spine prickling tight and painful, trying to puff out in a predatory display that they simply couldn’t because he was still bound in the godforsaken rope.

“I don’t know what your little plan was,” he hissed, “but you’ve done both of us a disservice. And while I’m sure you’re used to disappointment, I am not going to tolerate this.”

More silence. You looked—not confused, per se. But definitely not particularly keen on following his very justified rant against your person. Your gaze kept darting from his vicious glare, to his claws digging up the shoreline, and then to his lips. He could see your own mouth moving a bit alongside his, like you were trying to echo the shape of the insults flying off his tongue.

“Listen here, you fleshy rat,” he snapped, jabbing a black talon in your direction. “You’re going to tell me the course that your ridiculous ship had set so that I can return to my pod at once. Do you understand? And if you’re lucky, I won’t crawl my way up there to bite off your fingers one by one. How’s that sound?”

You blinked back at him with no comprehension, like his marvelous depiction of having your bones gnawed on for snacks just wasn’t a vivid enough picture.

The rage in his chest bubbled bright and hot, and the age-old magics in his veins zipped through his blood like a stroke of lightening.

Insolent brat.

Fine. He’d make you listen then.

“I don’t know what you’re saying,” you said, and oh, you were a nuisance. He was going to rip your nerves out from the depths of your useless, human limbs. Feast on your bones until the marrow had been picked clean and leave the scraps for the gulls—

He parted his lips and sang loud and sharp—letting that familiar lull roll off his tongue like the sweetest poison. His Call had always been the strongest in his pod, after all. That’s why it was his job to keep them safe, to ensure that no one was lost in a hunt that was meant to be so simple just because they couldn’t keep their purple-headed curiosity under wraps long enough to not to be caught—

Vil turned his sneer back your way, fully prepared to see you kowtowed before him with your nose buried in the sand. And—

You were just sitting there. Butt in the muck and just as wide-eyed and brainless as before. Staring back at him with a startled sort of expression on your face and nothing else. Normally there was a sort of tether between him and his victims. A call, an answer. Simple principles. And while he could never see the tangible net of his influence tightening around their brains, he could always sense it. Or at least something like it. But this time, there was just… nothing.

Vil snarled, swallowing around the spiky pinch of something in his gut that he refused to call panic, and canted his head back to sing louder.

The shallow dregs of the cove rippled at his hips with the force of it, and he could feel the swell of his influence curling out further and further. Digging its claws into anything and everything it could reach. He could feel one tether spooling out and grabbing after the other, feel the familiar pull of subservience from the very sea itself. And—

“I can’t hear you!”

Oh, you mocking piece of—

He widened his mouth until his jaw was creaking and his tongue was going numb from the sharp bursts of arcana snapping from throat.

“It’s not a challenge!” you wailed, hands cupped over your mouth to try and shout over his howling song. “My ears literally, actually, do not work, you fucking overgrown anchovy!”

His mouth fell closed all at once, the Call cutting off so abruptly that the returning wave of snapping magics almost made his head spin. The power of it hung along his nerves like the zipping prickle of electric eels, and the water at his hips churned and bubbled.

“There,” you huffed, like someone who’d just been horribly inconvenienced by a gust of wind ruining their hair, rather than a human bearing the full weight of a siren’s fury. Brushing off some of the most powerful magics in the ocean like it was nothing worse than a bit of sand in your trousers. It was… unnerving. And it had something uneasy curdling in Vil’s stomach.

He dug his claws into the sand, fins flaring along his sides in a defensive display before he could help himself. Your eyes tracked the way the muck gave way beneath his talons and he watched your throat bob. Good. You should be afraid of him. Because he refused to be afraid of a human like you. No matter how the hair at his nape prickled or the fins at his ears pinned against the sides of his head.

“Well…” you said after a long moment, awkward and stiff. “I should get going, I suppose.”

And then you were stumbling your way to your feet to venture deeper into the crags of the small island. Vil smacked his tail against the surf, loud and sharp. A plaintive ‘good, begone,’ if ever there was one. But you didn’t even flinch, let alone turn around to witness his grand ‘fuck you.’ He wasn’t sure why he was expecting you to.

He watched you crawl your way up a mess of boulders and old shells, eyes narrowed and that same, unpleasant prickle running through his nerves. Once you were well and truly out of sight, he returned to his fins and started doing all he could to assess the damage. The sooner he could deal with this setback and set out into the depths of the ocean, the sooner he could return to his pod. And the sooner he’d be away from you, and all your strange, human ways.

.

.

You returned maybe an hour later, only a few minutes after he’d given up on trying to pick the horrid mess of twine from the wounds along his tail. His claws weren’t made for such delicate work, and the poisoned tips of them weren’t doing his shredded fins any favors.

He turned on you with a snarl that would have sent any other sentient creature scurrying for cover, fins pinned and canines on full display. But apparently you had less self-preservation than even the brainless, teeny, rock crabs burrowing hurriedly into the sand.    

“Hello,” you said. Like that was any way appropriate.

“Get lost,” he snarled.

You nodded back, simple and sage, and then pointed to the mess of your ropes twined along his fins.

“I can get that off if you promise not to eat me.”

Vil sneered and surged forward to scrape his claws through the muck again, hoping his demonstration of what he would do to your face if you stepped near him was clear enough to get through your head.

“Touch me and you’ll be lucky if all I do is eat you.”

You blinked back, and he watched the way your eyes jumped across his expression. Trailed to his mouth, his brow, his teeth. Reading whatever you could see there. And then you shrugged again, unbothered by his spitting threats as before.

“Alright. Your loss, I suppose.”

There was a keenness to your gaze though, a sharp, pointed consideration that had his hackles rising all over again.

“If you think that you can be rid of me that easily, you’re solely mistaken,” he spat, smacking his fins into the shallows until the water was churning wild and angry. “This is all your fault, and whatever ridiculous plot you’re considering, I’ll gladly return it tenfold.”

Your face pinched like you had any right to be annoyed by this at all, and then promptly turned away from him like you’d lost all interest in his theatrics. You meandered around the shore, scooping up the battered remains of some of the fish that had stranded themselves during his failed Call. Then you sat yourself well away from the water’s edge and pulled a knife from your boot, running it along the fish’s scales and clearing out the muck.

“Thanks for the food!” you chirped petulantly, making long, pointed, eye contact as you did so. Like that little blade of yours was supposed to be any sort of a threat. Perhaps he could use it to pick the leftover bits of you out of his teeth.

Vil turned up his nose and returned to carefully grooming the shredded ends of his fins.

“You’re an obnoxious brat,” he growled, wincing as his claws caught over a frayed patch of scales and began to bleed all over again. “And I’m going to drown you.”

Naturally, you did not respond.

.

.

The rope burned, and he knew he wasn’t helping himself. The twine of it was frayed, poor quality. And combined with the tacky, salt-sticky damp of the waves, it made the worst sort of web. Vil threw himself around in the shallows like a pup stuck in their first net. And he knew—knew—this wasn’t going to make things better. But the more he worked to free himself and the less progress he made, the angrier he got (Not afraid, angry. He wasn’t afraid. He wasn’t).

A tight bit of fibers snagged along the delicate mesh of the fins at his hips and gave a shrieking riiip that had him collapsing into the sand bed with a bitten off noise that he refused to call a gasp. But Sevens, it did hurt. He pressed his face into the shallow pool of warm water beneath his chin and forced his breath to calm, to dig his claws into the grit beneath him rather than his own scales. Because this wasn’t working. And he—he needed to fix it. On his own. Because he was on his own. And he was going to manage, just like he always had.

There was a noise off on the shore—the tumbling of pebbles against stone as you shifted around in your little, makeshift hideaway. And he refused to look up to meet your gaze. Because surely you were staring. Humans were always so happy to watch his kind suffer, flailing about in their traps and bound in nets like a garish display. And he wasn’t going to give you the satisfaction of knowing he’d been seen like… like this.

So he forced himself to go still and silent, ignoring the pain biting into his sides like the teeth of a shark and the panicked, clawing thing in his gut that kept screaming that he was going to die here.

.

.

The next morning, you were wandering the shoreline, scrounging after the remains of various crabs from the day prior. Vil refused to look at you, and spent the time pointedly running his claws through the tangles in his hair and primping himself like he didn’t have a care in the world. Because if a stupid, lowly human fit for nothing but an after-dinner-snack could thrive in these circumstances, than surely he could do even better.

There was the soft, wet sounds of your footsteps behind him, and Vil turned on you with a roaring snarl—fins pinned and spines perked, defensive.

“What?” he snapped, beating his tail.

You awkwardly held up one your pickings—a round, red crab with fat claws.

“I don’t know if you all eat fish or whatever, but…”

Vil fought the urge to gawk. Were you offering him one of—but why would you—

He bit through his surprise with another sneer. “Firstly, crabs are crustaceans, not fish. You’d think any self-respecting creature that spent their days on the ocean would know something as obvious as that. Secondly, why would you even think that I would share a meal with you? Even I didn’t think humans could be that stupid, but you’re certainly setting a new bar.”

Your mouth twitched at his very sharply enunciated ‘stupid’ and he fought a smirk.

“Oh. Know that one, do you?” he cooed, all mocking.

“Look, do you want it or not?” you snapped, irritated, and his fins flared up again—wide and defensive.

Vil crossed his arms on an exaggerated, pointed huff and turned in the other direction. A clear dismissal. “I’d rather starve.”

“Whatever,” you griped, voice canted sharp with your foul temper, and then there was a crack and a yelp.

Vil turned back to see you reeling away, hand over your mouth to catch a mix of blubbering, wincing curses and a shattered crab shell clenched between your fingers in the most obvious show of stupidity he’d perhaps ever seen. He burst out into laughter before he could help himself, and you stormed away with warm cheeks and pieces of jagged, red shell still clinging to the corners of your lips.

.

.

That night he fought the ropes even harder, ignoring the way they pulled, and tore, and dug into places that he knew they should not. And maybe it was self-destructive, stupid, but if he didn’t get himself free of this horrible mess his fins would never heal. He’d never be able to swim properly again. And he’d never be able to leave this cove, never return to his pod, his family. Never—

A shell walloped him in the back of the head and Vil turned with a shriek so vicious it nearly startled even him. Because there you were—the bane of his existence. Standing at the edge of the water with that ridiculous, deadpan look on your ridiculous face and already scrounging about in the sands like you were looking for something else to throw at him. He didn’t even know what he was screaming at that point, absolutely brought over the edge in rage, and pain, and fear, and it was all. your. faul—

Then something in your expression snapped and you were storming forward towards the surf—absolutely incensed.

“Look, fish face! You were the one who attacked me! You!” you shrieked, stomping in the sand and nearly pinning the longer, trailing ends of his fins beneath your heels. “So stop acting like I’m some scheming shithead who was planning to trap you like this from the start!”

“You trapped me!” he howled, outraged. “You were going to kill a member of my pod! Who’s barely out of his pup days! And he was my responsibility, and you were going to attack him!”

Magic zipped along his tongue, demanding that you kneel. Show your throat and be done with it. But when you just kept glaring back—absolutely stone-faced and seething with indignation—Vil forced himself to take a breath, and then another.

“Epel,” he spat, low and exaggerated. He saw your eyes flicker to his lips, trace the outline of the word. “Epel,” he said again, sharp and angry. And when your own mouth began to subconsciously follow the shape of it, he was off and running again. “He’s my responsibility. Epel. He—” Vil pointed at the pale, lavender creases at the base of his fins. “His hair is like this. You saw him. You spoke to him. And you were going to tie him up just like you did to me.”

Your eyes narrowed, sharp.

“That kid,” you said after a moment, lips twisting in a frown. “You attacked me because of Purple Head?!”

“Epel,” Vil spat again, smacking his fins into the surf to douse you in a mess of seawater. “Not some kid. A pup. Barely of age. And you were going to—”

“You—” you hissed, scrubbing the salt from your eyes with the back of your hand. “He was still attacking us first! He was going after my friend!” you snapped, kicking your own wave back. It splattered along Vil’s hips, barely a sprinkling in comparison to his own tidal waves. “You don’t get to act all noble and protective, and like any of that makes any difference when you all were going to eat us!”

Vil snarled, and the twist of it left a bitter, rotten taste on his tongue. It wasn’t the same. It didn’t matter what you wanted, because you were just some human. Humans were vile, and cruel, and good for nothing but filling their bellies. And this was his family. So what if you claimed you were just standing up for your own brood? It wasn’t the same. It wasn’t.

So he turned back to dive into the shallows with as much force as his aching, crippled fins could manage. Sinking to the bottom of the cove in a huff of bubbles and clawing his way through the muck until he was well and truly hidden in the murky, sandy depths. He smacked his tail against the mess of pebbles and rocks until every creature beneath was scurrying for safety—fleeing outwith the flailing, destructive force of a Siren’s tantrum.

Was that why he was here, then? Bound and gagged on some hellhole of an island because of his own mistakes? Because you’d just been aligning yourself with the moral high ground he’d been riding this whole time? Saving your kin at the cost of your own, fragile skin. Dragged overboard to fight the monsters trying to devour your family whole. Ridiculous. He wasn’t going to let himself feel bad for the slighted prey in a hunt gone wrong. Sharks certainly didn’t regret the fish they chased, nor did the great black-and-white whales that pursued those sharks in turn. This was just the way of things, the circle of life. And he wasn’t going to feel guilty about the tight, protectivelook on your face as you shouted him down about defending your own pod at all.

.

.

You were curled up by the same rock the next morning, sleeping soundly against the rough hewn edge. It looked hideously uncomfortable, with your chin tucked up against your chest and your head pressed against half-a-dozen layered, jagged ridges. Vil had always heard that humans were used to luxury—soft, plush blankets made of foreign fabrics and great, stuffed squares of bedding that could put even the finest woven siren nests to shame. And there you were. Scrunched up with a shell clearly embedded in your cheek.

He frowned, fins rippling awkwardly at his sides where the majority were still knotted up in twine.

He needed to leave this cove. As soon as possible. And get away from… all of this.

It generally wasn’t considered the best of ideas to Call openly across the sea. Lone sirens were prime targets for all sorts of nasty scavengers. Human hunters, rival pods, even other rogues looking for a fight. It was dangerous to mark one’s position so openly, let alone in a manner that made it obvious of the less than stellar situation they had no doubt found themselves in. It was also a nasty toll to try and Call so far for so long, on himself and the environment around him. A screeching, horrible thing that he’d only heard a few times in all his years. It was a terrible idea for everyone involved, himself and his fellow castaway most of all. But, well, desperate times, and all that.

Besides, it wasn’t like you’d be able to hear it anyways.

So began his endless song.

He’d sing, and sing, and sing—feeling the ripples of it carrying across the surface of the water and shivering through the air. And then, after he’d worn his throat ragged, he’d pause. Just long enough to swallow around the sting and tilt his head to listen. His fins would flare out against the side of his head, and he’d wait. And then, when there was no answer to his Calling, he’d circle back and do it again. A part of him hoped there would be none. He’d taught his pod better than to do something so foolish—to put themselves at the mercy of all the monsters of the sea. And… if they didn’t answer, perhaps that just meant they were searching for him. Using his own, ridiculous harping to trace him down. And if not that, then at least that they were off somewhere safe. Somewhere far, and hidden.

He swam and sang until he was too exhausted for either. Bound fins a heavy, leaden weight at his hips and head barely cresting above the water.

When the sun set over the horizon, Vil let himself roll in alongside the surf to rest in the sand, boneless and sore. His eyes slipped shut with the encroaching darkness, too heavy to hold open at all. He hadn’t seen much of you today. Occasionally you’d wander down to the shoreline, head popping up over a cluster of rocks to shoot him a look that he couldn’t quite decipher, but for the most part you’d stayed hidden away. Out of his hair, at least. Perhaps you’d finally learned what was good for you, and that keeping as far away from the beast lurking in the shallows was the only way you’d be getting out of this alive.

And then his eyes were snapping open to a field of stars overhead and the moon hanging fat and low in the sky like a fruit ripe for the plucking.

And there you were, hovering over him with that laughably small knife of yours.

Carefully and gently working the rope away from his tattered fins.

Your fingers were delicate, precise. Every time those woven fibers tugged in a way that could even begin to hurt, you were softening your touch and muttering reassurances under your breath. He wondered if you realized you were doing that at all—chattering quiet, rambling nonsense like a nervous tick. ‘Ack, don’t twitch so much, it’s just going to cut deeper,’ and ‘sorry! Sorry! I didn’t think that would move like that! Just—just stay still and it will all be done way faster and then you can swim off, and—’ You were exceptionally careful over the areas of rough, beaten scales along the dip of his tail, wincing in sympathy at the raw, raw skin there. The blade never strayed anywhere it wasn’t needed, and you never touched any part of him that wasn’t in an effort to work another tangle of knots free.

Vil kept himself perfectly still and his breaths even and deep. He watched you through the low, golden dip of his lashes, eyes tracking your fluttering hands and quiet mumblings.

The last of the rope fell away with a wet, heavy plap in the sand and when you sighed there was a smile in your voice.

“There,” you muttered, soft. “Now he can swim home again.”

He froze, startled, and something dropped low and tight in his gut.  

Because humans were cruel. Humans were food. Humans were nothing more than vermin crawling over the surface of his ocean in their hunkering, wooden vessels and finless feet. They didn’t deserve sympathy, or anything of that ilk. And—

Your gaze met his and the spark of horrified realization didn’t even manage to settle properly in your wide, wide eyes before he had you pinned in the sand.

It was easy—far too easy. Compared to him you were so small, so fragile. No heavy, bulk of muscle and scales to help keep you alive and fighting. Just fragile limbs and lungs that were good for nothing. He dug his claws into your shoulders and felt the warm prick of blood curl up beneath his talons—could see you wince with the first pinch of acrid poison sharpening the wound. He was going to rip you apart, just like he’d said he would. Even if you hadn’t been able to hear him, he’d show you. Because humans were vile, and no matter what you’d claimed, you didn’t deserve anything better than an end beneath the points of his fangs. Fuel for the journey back to his pod and nothing more.

‘There. Now he can swim home again.’

He reeled back, nose scrunching and teeth grinding in his jaw.

You were still beneath him, blinking up in shock but not fighting. Like being flipped onto your back had been startling out of principle, but not unexpected. Like the idea of dying at his claws was just something you’d been expecting from the get-go.

And yet—

‘Sorry! Sorry!’ you’d been rattling. ‘Ah, if you squirm it’s just going to hurt, you stupid, overgrown fish—'

Vil reared back with a snarl that had goosebumps racing all along your arms, and then he was diving back into the shallows—swiping the tip of his fins against your nose as he went in a sharp crack that he hoped would have you yelping and stumbling away from the ocean’s edge.

He paced along the edges of the bay, newly freed fins slowly uncurling in the lull of the tide. And he felt free. Sore, certainly, and aching in ways he never had before, but free.

When he popped his head back out of the water, you were sprawled out in the sand like a dying starfish, absolutely out of your mind and babbling nonsense about ‘captains’ and ‘collars’ under your breath.

‘Good,’ he harumphed, diving back into the shallows to twirl along his unbound tail. ‘Maybe that would teach you to stay out of the water.’

.

.

[TAG LIST - CLOSED]

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[princesskenny1998]

One Piece | Monkey D. Luffy x waitress!f!Reader ~ One Night Stand?, PT.2

Six years. Six long years had passed since that fateful night, since the wild and reckless night that had changed everything. The day the Straw Hat Pirates sailed away had been a bittersweet one, but you had held onto the promise Luffy left behind—his words scrawled on a small note that you kept close to your heart, a promise you had dared to believe in.

It had been easy to keep faith, when his name was constantly in the papers, and every island was abuzz with news of the latest Straw Hat exploits. You had tracked every movement and had celebrated every victory. Luffy was the talk of the world-the infamous Straw Hat Captain, chasing his dream with a tenacity that was as fierce as it was reckless. He was making history, step by step, and you watched it all unfold from the distance, trusting that he would make good on his promise when the time was right.

But then you found out you were pregnant. Alone in your small home, you had felt the weight of that revelation settle heavily on your shoulders. The world moved forward, and the tavern became too difficult a place to continue working, so you started fresh-buying a small house near the harbor that had a shop downstairs, which you turned into a flower shop, providing for your son with the delicate arrangements you made every day. It was a quiet life, but it was a good one, and you did your best to fill your days with warmth and joy, even as you kept an ear out for news of Luffy’s adventures.

Your son-your bright, laughing boy-had Luffy’s eyes. From the moment he had come into the world, you had seen traces of Luffy in him, and it was a comfort you hadn’t expected. Every time he smiled, it was like Luffy was right there with you, watching over both of you with that same carefree spirit. You named him Lirio, after the first flower you sold in your shop-the one that gave you hope when things felt overwhelming. It was a name full of life, a reminder to keep moving forward, no matter how long the wait might be.

And so you waited.

Six years. Six years of laughter and scraped knees, of bedtime stories and flower arrangements, of late nights spent wondering where Luffy was and whether he was thinking of you too. Six years of watching your son grow, feeling your heart swell with love and pride every time he asked about pirates, about the stories he had heard of a man with a straw hat who sailed the seas, conquering one adventure after another.

Six years of believing that one day, Luffy would come back.

And now, the whole island was buzzing again. The Thousand Sunny had docked just beyond the cove, a sight you hadn’t seen in what felt like a lifetime, and you had felt your heart stop when you first caught sight of that familiar ship on the horizon. The rumors had spread like wildfire-Monkey D. Luffy, King of the Pirates, had returned-and the whole town had been swept up in a frenzy of excitement and celebration. You had stood frozen in your little flower shop, your hands shaking around the bouquet you were arranging, staring out the window at the ship that had brought so much change to your life.

Lirio had sensed your excitement-your nervousness-and begged you to take him to the harbor. He had always loved stories of pirates, and the chance to see the legendary Straw Hat Crew in person was too exciting for him to pass up. You couldn’t say no, even though your heart was racing with a mixture of anticipation and fear. You closed the shop early, holding your son’s hand as you made your way through the winding streets toward the docks.

The crowd was thick, but you pushed your way through, your breath hitching as you saw them—the Straw Hat Crew, older but no less vibrant, standing tall and proud as they greeted the cheering crowd. You spotted Luffy instantly, his unmistakable figure at the front of the group, his familiar straw hat perched casually on his head, and your heart skipped a beat. He looked different now, more mature, with a confidence and presence that hadn’t been there all those years ago. But his grin, his spirit—that was the same. That would probably, hopefully, never change.

Your hands tightened around Lirio’s, and you watched in stunned silence as Luffy scanned the crowd, his expression bright but searching, his eyes wide and eager like he was looking for something-someone.

“Momma,” Lirio said, tugging on your hand, his voice filled with excitement. “Is that him? The pirate you told me about? The one you said was the bravest?”

You nodded, your throat too tight to speak, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “Yes,” you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath. “That’s him.”

Luffy’s eyes moved over the sea of faces, and then- he saw you. His grin froze, his expression shifting to one of surprise, and then something warmer, something deeper that you couldn’t quite name. He took a step forward, pushing through the crowd as if he couldn’t get to you fast enough, his gaze never leaving yours. The noise around you faded, the world narrowing to just the two of you, as if time had folded in on itself and the years apart had melted away.

“Hey,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion as he stopped in front of you, his eyes wide with wonder. “You’re still here.”

“You promised to come back,” you said, your voice shaky, but you couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face. “I never stopped believing you would do.”

He looked like he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, his eyes flicking down to Lirio, who was staring up at him with wide, curious eyes. Luffy’s breath hitched, and he crouched down, meeting your son’s gaze with an expression of awe and tenderness that made your heart clench.

“Hey, little man,” he said softly, his voice warm and gentle. “What’s your name?”

“Lirio,” your son said proudly, puffing out his chest like he was about to embark on an adventure of his own. “My momma says I’m brave like a pirate!”

Luffy’s eyes glimmered, and he reached out, ruffling Lirio’s hair with a laugh that sounded a little choked. “Yeah, I bet you are,” he said, his gaze flicking back to you with a question you had no idea how to answer. “You look just like me when I was your age.”

“He should,” you said, your voice trembling, and Luffy’s eyes widened, the realization hitting him like a tidal wave. His face softened, his expression full of wonder and disbelief, and he stood up, reaching for you with a touch that was hesitant, almost reverent, as if he couldn’t quite believe you were real.

“This is my son, Luffy,” you said, your voice breaking with emotion. “Our son.”

For a moment, he was silent, his eyes brimming with tears as he pulled you and Lirio into his arms, holding you both like he never wanted to let go. His touch was warm and familiar, and you felt something inside you break open, the pain of the past six years melting away in the face of the love and joy that radiated from him. He held you close, his grip almost desperate, and you buried your face in his shoulder, feeling the weight of his promise settle into something solid and real.

“It took me longer than I thought,” he murmured into your hair, his voice thick with emotion. “But I’m here now.”

You nodded, your tears soaking into his shirt, and Lirio giggled, wrapping his small arms around Luffy’s neck like he had known him his whole life. You pulled back slightly, looking up at Luffy with a mixture of relief and love that you had kept locked away for so long.

“You did it,” you said, your voice trembling with pride. “You became King of the Pirates.”

“Yeah,” he said, his eyes shining with that same fire that had drawn you to him all those years ago. “And I kept my promise.”

He cupped your face in his hands, his touch gentle and sure, and kissed you-a kiss that was full of everything you had both been waiting for, everything you had both endured, and everything you would build together from this moment on.

[ladychaos]

Hi everyone! Even if I was not really active these last months because I've been struggling with IRL stuff, I've spent a lot of time building in StrangerVille when I could. It might be the next world added to my save file, WHO KNOWS. I hope you'll like this build, it's one of my favorite I've ever created.

Take care and stay safe. 💜

Reverie Corner Cove [CC-FREE]

Nestled slightly outside of town and overlooking the StrangerVille creek, Reverie Corner Cove is an unusual house. It looks old and new, industrial and classic, gloomy and bright… In a word: timeless. When Sona Cahill purchased it, it was falling apart. The self-made inventor has been working on it for years, slowly making it a colorful home for her two daughters, whom she raises by herself. From ruins to safe harbor, this place is one made of dreams and imagination.

AVAILABLE IN MY GALLERY

Origin ID: LadyChaosWorlds

You can download Reverie Corner Cove here: [X]

You can download the CahillFamily here: [X]

📁 TRAY FILES :  DOWNLOAD (PATREON, FREE)

📁 WANT TO DOWNLOAD THE HOUSEHOLD? [X]

Don’t forget to activate bb.moveobjects before downloading the lot on build mode (not from the map).

[*I’m currently redoing all StrangerVille, creating builds and storylines for the whole world. You can check my progress here.]

[clairdelunelove]

I just know that itadori yuuji would be the guy on the beach that you get a glimpse of and never forget. 

what started out as a summer trip planned by friends turned into more of a self-care day that you all could share. to take a break from the usual, mundane cycle of school and work. just a pause to relax due to the rare occasion you all can clear your schedules to enjoy your youth. to have a little fun. to breathe in some fresh air and soak up some sun. you weren’t expecting a flawless trip; in fact, you kept your expectations pretty low and didn’t stress too much about the logistics. nothing too hectic. thus, when it was a blazingly hot day with not a single cloud scattered across the cerulean sky and the wind was perfect– traveling to the beach was a no-brainer. so after packing a few essentials you all hit the road. the car ride was a jumble of upbeat, carefree music and all the radio’s top tracks. with the car’s windows rolled down, your group of friends zealously croon all the wrong lyrics with pride and erupt in laughter when people from other cars stare a bit too intently. bright, mirthful smiles on all your faces in hopes of making new memories with this trip. just a good time, overall. 

so imagine your surprise when your friends assign you to unpack the beach chairs from the car and drag them over to the designated spot. in their defense, it’s a beautiful spot. the ideal blend of shade and dazzling sunlight since it’s right underneath the beach’s main cove. it overlooks golden sand that’s bordered by the water’s white foam due to the spilling waves that caress the shoreline. not to mention that the water is superbly tepid, the right temperature that has your friends sighing in content. it’s the hangout spot that anyone would treasure for the day. extraordinarily so, that your friends immediately grab a handful of items (towels, bags, etc.) from the car’s trunk and quickly dash to claim it. leaving you to haul the heavier pieces by yourself.

“guys! seriously?” you rhetorically ask, aware that your voice wasn’t going to reach them from how far they were. 

a heavy exhale leaves your lips as you continue to heave the obnoxiously colored chairs across the sand. you suppose that this was probably the best option, though. the beach already had a handful of people scattered along the stretch of land and it was bound to get busier by the second. but the heft of the chairs, coupled with your need to briskly catch up to your friends, proved to be more responsibility than you can manage. it happens abruptly. before your grip on the aluminum handles slip, a heavy hand descends to alleviate the extra weight and you’re face-to-face with the most attractive stranger you’ve ever laid your eyes on. 

“need a hand?” 

and a part of you wishes to blurt that you might need more than just his hand. because he’s stunning– in the way that causes your face to warm as your eyes drag along his physique. his skin is glowy like he’s grazed by sunlight itself and brushed with freckles that you yearn to trace your fingers over. his hair is a blushy, vibrant shade that creates a halo behind him and emphasizes his boyish charm. and his smile, the one that good-naturedly curves along his lips, is blinding as he regards you. he’s clad in a white tank top and swim trunks, although, you’ve never quite seen such prominent dips of muscle despite him being completely covered up.

you stutter out your gratitude, too occupied with furiously bowing your head to notice how his gaze shifts to do an inquisitive once-over. and he already knows he’s in trouble. you’re oh so pretty; big, sparkly eyes and glossy lips. a voice that sounds like someone slowly plucking the strings of a violin. soft skin that gleams. his dream girl. knocks the wind out of his chest and he discreetly clears his throat in order to speak. 

“don’t worry ‘bout it,” he mentions while drawing a finger to bashfully swipe at his nose, “just didn’t wanna see such a pretty girl in distress.” 

and you can already tell he’s sickeningly sweet. not like the type that you usually run into when you’re strolling through the city streets. no, you were certain that he wasn’t from around here. probably stored away in a faraway town that you’d never have the chance to visit. after all, the boys that pursued you were accustomed to low effort and unkept promises. not him, however.

hands raised in alarm, he hastily tries to correct his overly blunt compliment and you’re left giggling at his dismay. 

“the ball, dude!” 

a group of athletic males, you assume they’re the stranger’s friends, holler at him as they point to the volleyball that rolled beside you. must’ve been launched over when you were focused on the attractive stranger. you awkwardly shift your feet. of course, all good things must come to an end. too much heaven is bound to make a person selfish. but this was almost too quick for you to thoroughly enjoy. he remains unmoving despite his friends’ chiding for him to come back so they can resume their game. almost reluctant. his gaze deviates to the ball and then goes back to you. a glimmer in his disheartened eyes. 

you glance over, shyly smiling at his unwillingness to hurry back to them, “I think they’re waiting for you.” 

and that breaks him out of stupor. he bites his lower lip, seemingly debating, and promptly utters another apology. quips about how impatient they are over a silly game of beach volleyball. muttering about how they had all day to play. the words spill out of his mouth. reasoning to explain the short-lived encounter. and you can’t help but swoon because he has such a boyish charm to him. 

yet, before you can take your leave, the blushy-haired male blurts, “can you give me a second?” 

“please.” 

recognizes that he’s got you hook, line, and sinker when you press your lips together with an appeased nod. you’re fighting off the beginnings of a smile as he visibly perks up at your response. like a dog finally rewarded with a treat after a session of training. he scoops up the volleyball, eagerly tosses it back to his friends, and mentions for them to not wait up for him. doesn’t bat an eye to how the ball whizzes past them and into the sea. never thought twice about his appalling strength.

and he’s giddy now. all dizzying grins and flighty movements. it's almost too adorable. accidentally brushes against your hand as he’s walking and hastily pulls away like he’d been burned. visibly gulps when you teasingly smooth your hand over his shoulder. and his eyes flutter in desperation when your fingers gently card along his soft hair. though, his eyes never leave yours. they're the perfect shade of liquid honey. makes you reminisce of apricot trees and apple pies. set in determination to etch you into his mind. you'll be in his memory forever. and it’s mushy and gentle. you never want this day to end. 

yuuji ends up carrying all your beach chairs in one strong hand. wasn’t too inclined to accept your compliments for his strength but he does notice how your gaze often drifts to the apparent veins on his forearms. he never comments on it, however. just causes him to puff up in pride when he offers you his other arm and you hold onto it for stability (or so he believes). such a pretty sight as you waltz in the sand and throw him an overjoyed smile when you pick up sparkling seashells. you’re completely satiated. an unexpected surprise during the lax, summery trip. a drop of saccharine that sent his dull world plummeting into the deepest depths of the very sea that you pranced along. and if your friends notice the rather recent and charming addition to their group, one that hangs upon your every word– they don’t mention it.

at least now they have someone to carry all their heavy stuff for them. 

[st4rbe0m]

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ KISS THE GIRL - PSH

🫧 now playing - kiss the girl from disney’s The Little Mermaid 🫧 contents - the little mermaid au, no gendered implications but the word 'maiden' is used, implied kissing 🫧 wc - 0.9K 🫧 a/n - i hope this compensates for the lack of body search updates recently :( i need to structure that story out a bit more, so it'll be a while. might make a mini series out of this however teehee >.<

masterlist

Sha-la-la-la-la-la, My oh my Look like the boy too shy Ain't gonna kiss the girl

The blue luminescence of the algae around them, surrounding the boat in a surreal bubble, made the breath in Sunghoon’s throat hitch in awe. You were right in front of him, hands on the pair of paddles opposite to his own, making no move of their own, as your eyes blown wide in awe of scenery peered around. The way the drooping willow branches of the cove swayed in an almost rhythm like manner, creating a music of its own. The fish seemed almost animated as they playfully swam along the quivering currents of the water, the boat stalled and rocking almost like a crib, gently. The reeds whistled, adding the percussion to the music of the ocean, while the crabs and the seagulls perched along the rocks of the shallow alcove seemed to scuttle along, adding a tapping beat to the environment. Almost like this endeavor was planned. Almost. 

Sunghoon doesn’t really register how quickly this stranger, whom he’d found on the beach with no voice of your own, and almost seemingly no knowledge of his importance or his duties, had easily slid into his life, like the puzzle piece he’d been missing ever since he went aboard his ship on his birthday. The day he was knocked off the very vessel, and only had an angelic voice and a fleeting memory saving him from being pulled under by the unforgiving waves of the sea. 

The boat was swaying gently in the water as you both rocked along with it, eyes swallowing in all the beauty of the escape Sunghoon had found during his lonesome adventures to escape from princely duties. A hidden cave, with a shallow pool of water and a welcoming alcove hiding the both of you away from prying eyes. After all, the rumors and gossip about town would multiply with a frenzy, if any citizen were to come across the adoration on the face of their beloved prince, as he gazed upon this strange maiden. The mood around them was so tender, so fragile and so, so beautiful. Yet to Sunghoon, the only beauty he could focus on was the one right in front of him, only on the way your head was tilted up and looking around, like you were seeing everything that existed above the land for the first time ever in your life. The way your lips parted softly and exhaled a soft sigh of satisfaction, like a thirst to see everything was being quenched slowly. And how soft your lips looked, glowing under the moonlight that entered through the cracks above. The plump curve of your cupid’s bow, and the dip of white where your teeth bit into your lower lip in fascination.

If the ambience wasn’t already perfect, the buzzing of the fireflies, that illuminated the air around you both with their bright, yellow glow just made your heart leap in joy, and the smile that grew on your face made Sunghoon’s heart flip in his own chest, like the marine creatures surrounding you both, almost like they’d choreographed their own dance to celebrate the union of you both. The frogs that sat with their little webbed legs stuck on to the paddles of your boat, and the wonderful, colorful fish, creating a haze of flurried colors under the dark water. It was all absolutely delightful, as you both chuckled at the behavior of all the animals around you. One of the frogs on the paddle decided to leap in a move of its own, elegantly diving into the water with a plop. But as graceful as the move was, it ended up with a small splash of water ungracefully landing on Sunghoon’s cheek, which made you giggle in amusement. Bringing the fabric of your sleeve to your palm and shifting close to wipe the cold water off his face, your eyes met the warmth in his brown ones, making you fall harder for the enigmatic and handsome prince. The human you’d found yourself to be so captivated by. Prince Park Sunghoon, royal heir to the throne of the island country, Telmarina. 

Sunghoon’s heartbeat was thundering in his ears due to the proximity between the two of you, and if he didn’t already feel that magnetic pull that was urging him to push his lips onto yours, the urge just got stronger as he looked at all your features with such intensity, as to almost memorize them. You could feel his shortening breath on your face now, which just created a chain reaction to your own flusteredness. His eyes, which were settled on yours, hesitatingly shifted, and then dipped to your lips. And it seemed that you did too, as the pink tinge of his lips seemed to call you like a siren. Leaning in slowly, almost gravely, both of you inhaled as your lips almost touched to fulfill what you both had been yearning for this entire time.

That was until the solid wooden flooring of the boat under both of you seemed to disappear, leaving you both plunging into the cold water of the lagoon, icing the blood in your veins and leaving you both in a shocked state, floating in the water. Laughing at the state of both of you, the kiss that almost happened seemed to slowly leave both of your minds, and Sunghoon swore that if you listened close enough, you could hear some sort of disappointed groan coming from the rock where the crab and seagull sat. And holding out his hand for you to take as you both swam up to land, you both almost ignored the dark slithering eels that swam away silently from the scene, ready to report to their masters of the success of their devious plans.

[billys-slutcherson]

'Nightshift Degeneracy P.T 2' 18+ MDNI

Mike Schmidt x F!Reader

────────────────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.───────────────

Chapter 2/2:

After his near miss of being caught up to no good on the nightshift, Mike thinks he might be in the clear. However, you relish in letting him know you caught him. Desperate to fulfil his urges completely.

Tags:

Handjobs, Semi-Public Sex, Orgasm Edging, Edging, Begging, Submissive/Soft-Dom, Exhibitionism, Shyness/Nervousness, Riding, Wet Kisses, Wet & Messy, Non-Plot Heavy, Smut

────────────────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.───────────────

Mike hunched over, gripping his knees as he sighed with relief. Thinking he was in the clear, albeit the utter humiliation wracked his senses. Standing more upright one hand moved to his waist, whilst the other pressed over his forehead.

"So close, such an idiot, Mike." He berated himself. Cringing as his eyes darted back to the sloppy mess on the table. Hoping you perhaps didn't notice. How naïve. He rushed to the desk, pulling the drawers open.

Looking for something to clean it, and hide any evidence of his late-night depravity.

With no luck he turned on his heel, so focused as he wandered to the locker. Yanking the door open. He physically flinched, raising his hand to his face as he yelped. "Fucking Christ..." He sighed, knocking over the silly little balloon boy figurine. Annoyed at how it caught him off guard.

After the initial frustration, he chuckled at the scare. Crouching as he snatched the tissues from his backpack, making his way back to the desk.

Mike leaned against the edge of it, rolling up the security jacket, as the cuffs of his sleeves clenched against his forearms. Cheeks pink as he tried to clean the splatters of his excitement, trying to hide what a pathetic loser he was, at least that was how he felt anyway.

Quickly, moving to wipe the keys. The main monitor switched accidentally. As his eyes swerved to catch you on-screen. Walking into the party room. Lips parted as he stared. Like a puppy, his eyes wide.

Wetting his lips slightly. Crouching in front of the desk. Compelled by you.

"So pretty..." He almost whined. Blinking slowly.

--

Your footsteps pressed into the old shag carpet, splayed with bright patterns. The colours of the old building are dulled by decay. A smell that lingered in the air. Sweet yet putrid. Flashlight in hand, raised beside your head as you survey the pizzeria.

Checking your watch, it was just hitting 02:00 am. It always had an eerie unnerved feeling this late into the shift. Yet, your thoughts existed elsewhere. Remembering how you almost caught him in the act. How his cheeks burned red, the way he pulled away from the simple little touch of your hand. Weirdly though, you felt his shame was cute. Somehow, endearing. Recalling catching his stare during your recent shifts. The way he seemed to stutter more when you watched him speak. It wasn't like you hadn't been toying with him, quipping back with little flirtful comments. But, he was oblivious. Clumsy with you.

Approaching the main stage, your fingers traced the edge of the curtains, curling the tips over the fabric as you tugged it open, only a little. Swallowing firmly as you looked up at 'them'.

The animatronics, weren't how they seemed when you were young. The years were unkind. Your eyes drifted between the three on the 'Show Stage'. Dishevelled, decrepit, and god the fucking smell of them. It gave you the heave. They loomed ominously, the height of them alone was enough to creep you out. Every night without fail, the song seemed stuck in your mind. As you softly hummed 'talking in your sleep'.

'You tell me that you want me,

You tell me that you need me'

The lyrics softly left your lips as you sang, staring up at the monster-like animatronics.

Suddenly startled, you heard the ruffle of the curtains at 'Pirate Cove'. You about jumped into the air as you turned to check it. Trembling as your flashlight wobbled in hand.

--

In the office, Mike's brow furrowed, the security cameras were too shitty to have audio. Nevertheless, he watched as your startled body jerked back against the stage. You seemed, anxious to him. He watched only for a moment till he noticed the shaking of your hands. Tilting his head to the side as he snatched his flashlight from the drawer. Wheels squeaked against the checkered vinyl floor as he moved to his feet. Wandering

the hallway towards the 'Party Room'. The silence always made his stomach feel like a rock. Like he was filtering towards a liminal void. He didn't care for the animatronics, and was certain somehow, they likely felt similarly to him.

--

Looming in the entranceway. One of the bulbs on the arch flickered.

You heard the scuff of his sneakers and gasped. Dropping the flashlight. Grabbing at your chest with fright. Glaring at him.

"What the hell are you doing creeping in the shadows!" You scolded. Bending to grab your light once more. Flashing it towards his face, your eyes still startled.

"I-I saw you on the cameras... Something seemed, wrong. I just-... I wanted to check you were okay..." He falters.

Shy as he admitted to essentially spying on you.

Sighing as you lowered the light from his scrunched face. Embarrassed that the place seemed to get to you more tonight than usual.

"I- it's fine, sorry for shouting. I just-... Foxy's curtain moved." You raised your arm pointing. Stepping closer to his platform. Mike hesitated, watching carefully, before stepping closer. His presence eased you.

Peeking through the crack in the curtain. As your light filtered through. Reflecting over the old rusting metal.

"They used to be, magical... now they are just...creepy." You remark.

He raised an eyebrow, noting you knew the place before, well, before the 'rumours'.

You pulled the curtain back closed, dragging your hands over it. Tension easing some as you turned scoffing.

"At least they haven't run off, just being quirky is all." You smirked.

"Not yet anyway." He retorted with a grin. Smiling suited him, you liked to see that morose little face light up.

Playfully narrowing your eyes at Mike. You sauntered over to the 'prize desk'. Humming that familiar tune. It was adorned with old toys, strips of tickets slung over the desk. You hopped up and slid your rear over the countertop. He followed, eyes tracing over your hips as you scooted over the other side. The corners of his lips tugged upwards. Watching you closely, as you flash him a smile. Tossing your hands up in the air. Practically shouting.

"Step up, step up...Pick your prize, Mikey boy!" You teased with a sneaky wink. Bending against the counter cockily. The smile grew on your face, as you caught his eyes trailing down your body as you pressed over the desk.

He stifled a little, as he scratched the back of his head. Approaching.

"Well..." Hesitating as he speaks

You rest your chin in your palms.

"I already know the best prize.." You hummed in a sing-song tone.

"What are you doing..?" He laughed with an almost look of nervousness, though his smile never left. Not for a moment. Resting his palms on the edge of the counter.

Careful, trying to bite your tongue. But you couldn't help but remark.

"What were you doing?" He watched as you snickered while saying it.

Stuck in time, it felt like the words were choking him as his breath hitched.

"What do you mean?.." Responding so quickly he tripped over his words, trying to play dumb. You could see the pink wash over his freckled cheeks.

'Gotcha!' You thought to yourself. Tilting your head to the side. Batting your eyes at him.

Repeating slowly, mockingly even and you relished in his cute flustered little face.

"I asked, what were you doing? Earlier, when I came in. You seemed... on edge?" You couldn't hide your delight at his discomfort.

He scoffed a little. Leaning on the counter just across from you his fingers pushing his curls back slightly.

"I-I just got a fright from the door... that's all" He lied, it was painful how bad he was at it.

"No, I don't think that was it. Lie better." You grilled him playfully.

"I- I am not lying." He continued to fib. "W-what do you think I was doing?" He deflected.

"Oh, I don't know... But you better have cleaned your little mess." Pushing him further. Revealing you did in fact notice.

He was caught, stammering and ashamed. Why did he feel the need to keep denying it? He felt a twinge in his jeans. He couldn't help but think you 'enjoyed' the fact you'd caught him. Did you know he was thinking about you? His heart thudded in his chest.

"I don't know what you're talking about." His tongue poked against his inner cheek. Fiddling shyly with his hands, staring at the counter. 'Don't look at her, do not'. He thought to himself. She knows.

The distance slowly closed between you both as you leaned that little more towards him.

"You are cute when you are embarrassed, aren't you?" Stroking his nervous palms with your fingertips, feeling him freeze. His hands practically vibrated under your touch.

"What were you thinking about, while you...?" Enjoying how he squirmed, craving to hear him admit it. Your mind wondered how he sounded. Did he call out for you? You hoped so. Knew so.   

You were used to this cold, moody, quiet spirit. Though now, he was suddenly defenceless. Showing how powerless he was around you. Uncovering how much of a little pervert he embodied. Pathetic. Cute, but pathetic.

He stayed quiet. For what felt like an eternity to him. His lip trembled a little, as he felt himself unravelling. Sighing, as he thumbed over your palm. The simple touches riled him.

Leaning till you were inches from his face.

"... Was it me? Is that why you panicked?..." You asked in a sly, little whisper.

You caught how he blinked in defeat. Tilting his head down.

"I... I really didn't know you were in tonight..." Cut off as he lifted his head.

Indulging in the heat of the moment you pressed your lips to his, hand cupping his cheek. This is all you wanted, right now. Tasting his lips on yours. He hesitated as his body stiffened. Shoulders pulled up. You drew your lips back from his. Uncertain if he wanted this. Though, he followed you, clutching at your hand.

"N-no please.." He whispered. Leaning towards you as his fingertips found your hair. Touching so gently. Lips brushing yours. Hesitating.

You didn't overstep, letting him follow at his pace as you couldn't refrain from smiling. Sweetly, he stuttered an apology.

"I just-... it was you... I-I'm sorry.." He stammered guiltily. You could have melted there at how desperately needy he was being. Brushing your fingers over his warmed cheeks.

Moving both hands to his face, his cheeks squishing in your palms. He nudged his forehead against yours, desperate to find your lips again.

You mumbled teasingly against his lips.

"I already knew... I am not stupid... but, God, you made such a mess... So messy, Mike." Purring against his lips as he kissed further. Trying to bury his shame. Having yearned for you, for such a long time.

The kisses between you both, are filled with precious passion. You lean over the counter on your tippy toes. Trying to close the distance of the counter between your bodies.

Mike felt lightheaded, gripping your wrists as you held his face in your hands.

Palming them back down on the counter, dragging his nails along it. You broke the kiss, your hands shifting to grip the scruff of his jacket.

"Come here." You urged, giggling in a way he hungered to hear. Longing to be the reason for your laughter. Quickly, he sprung into motion, climbing over the countertop clumsily. Not at all like you had. Tumbling off of it he stumbled into you. Trembling hands grazed at your waist, as he nudged his lips back to to yours. Mesmerised by you.

Your giggles washed over his lips, making him wait a moment. Pushing at his chest. As his body pleaded with you.

Your tongue slipping into his mouth aroused him to no end, as you felt his hard-on press into your leg.

Catching one another's stare. You pulled back from the kiss.

"Clearly, you needed my help the first time..." You quipped as he scoffed looking away. You dragged his stare back to you, as you gripped his jaw. Catching a silly smile on his lips.

His hands were still wrapped against your waist. Stroking his fingertips against the small of your back, teasing your spine.

Reaching between you both, you unbuttoned your shirt. His eyes drifted from yours. Watching him glimpse downwards. You allowed it. This time.

He kept playing with your hair. Totally fawning over you.

Soon your shirt is off and falling to the floor. His fingers dance against the straps of your bra. Images of tearing it between his teeth filtered back to him.

"Tell me what you pictured... in the office?" You teased. Slowly reaching to unbutton his jeans, slipping your hand inside. Massaging lightly. Knowing he is likely still sensitive.

The breaths escaped him as you touched him, finally. Even if clothed, he was still overcome. He pressed his eyes shut, savouring the moment. Slow down, please, please. His poor mind raced, so fragile against you.

"Uh...I hm.." He breathed out heavily. Eyes flickering back. Panting.

"I th-thought of you on your knees.." He grunted a little as your fingers laced around his shaft. Stroking his already hard cock.

Hunching against you, he gripped your shoulders. Squeaking out sharp little whimpers.

"Only my mouth?" You toyed with him, your lips touching his, though not kissing.

"No.." He swallowed.

"Then on top, and you...didn't stop till...s-shit" His words trailed off. You smiled deviously but knew he couldn't possibly cope for long. Nudging him back to the counter, smooching him softly. Fumbling as you pushed your trousers down. Kicking your boots with them. Pulling him to the floor with you. His back was pushed into the counter, as you kneeled between his legs, pulling his jeans back down to his knees.

Mike was so flustered, his shame still threatened him as he watched you slowly stroke. Bending.

"N-no, please, I... I won't last..." He fumbled. Reaching to guide you over him. Clutching at your hips, you didn't stop him. All he could bear was to feel you. To be inside of you.

"I love it when you are all flustered..." You smiled over him as you straddled his waist. His lips curled as you caught his small smile.

Tracing his fingers against your underwear. He shyly played with the waistband. Raising your hips, you helped him pull them down your thighs. Kicking them off your ankle, as you adjusted your body. Pressing your hips down to feel his length glide against you. Fingers stroked over his cheeks as he pressed his head back into the wood.

Eyes never moving from yours as you whisper.

"So adorable..." You breathed against his lips.

"You...make me so pathetic." He whines out, bucking his hips up against yours. Visibly desperate to feel you wrapped around his dick.

"I like seeing you be such a horny loser..." You smirk. The hot and breathless laugh that escaped his lips only served to make you need him more.

You felt his fingertips dig against your waist. Sinking your hips downward, stretching around him, his girth much more than expected. Your breath rushed against his neck, letting out a moan that surprised you both, feeling him twitch within. Wrapping your arms against his shoulders to steady yourself. The pair of you losing composure, in the moment, wanting nothing but to feel one another.

Mike's hips jerked upwards, his cry of relief so sweet, as his nails dragged over your spine. Showering his lips with kisses, as you inhaled his breaths. His mind whirled with lust. Watching you, caressing and softly crying out.

"Fuck..fuck, you are so fucking hot..." The words rushed from him disjointedly. His lips hung open, as he grew closer. His climax built within, threatening. Cursing at himself. You could feel as he throbbed, he was fucking you so clumsily. The jut of his hips quick, like a piston slamming up into your cunt.

"Is this what you jerked for, huh? This is what you needed, I know... you need this." You taunted. It felt so good watching him under you grovelling for more.

Nodding as he tightened his lips closing his gawping mouth. He could only nod. Straining his back as he bucked you up and down his length. You kissed his lips, working little kisses down his jaw, till you reached his ear. Sucking on the lobe, tugging only gently.

"You are so close, huh..." You teased, hips bouncing now. As you felt his whimpers against your neck. "That's it, Mike...Cum for me... P-please" You faltered, he could hear that whimper. How you needed this, just as much. It ruined him.  

He felt so intensely embarrassed at how quickly he was losing all control. Your encouragement unravelled him. Cracking at the edges of his quiet exterior, he was quickly coming undone. Unable to admit, nor warn, as his orgasm rushed through. His cock spasmed inside you and released a thick stream of his cum. So much so, that his white sticky finish seeped from you.

Your hips still riding, as he burst through that orgasm, crying out sharply. As you didn't slow, he gripped at your back, stroking harshly. Marking your skin, feeling your hips halt. As his tender cock ached. Mike's eyes rolled back, as he felt you slam down, a wet rush flowed over his skin as he heard you wail against his neck. Another weaker rope splurged from his tip as he twitched under you.

Taking a breather you held yourself against him. Feeling his palms cradle you a moment before lifting off of him. With a moan, till the cold air washed over his shaft. Resting your hips back against his. The twitching against you made you shiver, your weight pinning him down.

He finally opened his eyes. A goofy smile on his lips, as you stroked his cheek with the back of your hand.

"That was... fucking.." He rasped, trailing off as he struggled to find the words. Quickly leaning to kiss your neck softly. Drool on his mouth, before resting back against the counter, looking up at you.

"I know... " Breathily scoffing, as you playfully patted his cheek.

PART 2, A PART 2!

I had fun writing this! It is totally smut, if you ignore the sexual tension? LMAO.

If you made it to this point, see you in hell (●'◡'●)

In no way did I intend for it to be 3,041 words, oopsie.

[verefex]

Kraken's Cove

Short story where a stowaway meets the kraken himself, who turns out to be less scary than he initially thought.

Content warnings in the tags. Enjoy!

On a vessel cruising along the open seas, hid a stowaway. Tucked under a tarp in the dinghy that hung suspended by ropes and pulleys off the side of the traveling ship, a man rested quietly. After perusing the food, drink, and trinkets from the ship’s stores, he gathered up his haul in the small rowboat and hunkered down for the journey.

Swaying comfortably back and forth, suspended off the port side, Raphael, as the stowaway was named, was quite used to this sort of life. Sneaking his way onto sailing vessels docked at ports, he made his living by stealing. It was dishonest work, he knew that. But as he would often say, “pay your debts with the topsail”, fleeing across the wide seas was the life he was forced to choose.

Seagulls cried overhead as the ship’s wooden hull creaked and cut through the waves, lofty sails billowing in the sea breeze. The sun shined brightly in the blue sky overhead, not a storm cloud in sight over the deep, open ocean; a sailor���s dream.

That is, until a deafening impact sound is heard against the ship’s hull.

Almost immediately, the crew sprung to full alert, scrambling on the deck to man the sails and cannons. Raphael threw the tarp off of himself and held fast to the rowboat’s sides, green eyes wide under his headband and dark, wavy hair.

“That’s my cue.” He muttered as the ship’s crew prepared for attack, completely unaware of their rowboat quickly but silently being lowered into the water by the pulleys.

Raphael was no stranger to close calls and narrow escapes, it was often how he departed from his seaward journeys. From borrowing dinghies to diving into the foamy waters below and swimming to shore, he reveled in the calmness that came with the long journey. But for now, he was not about to go down with the ship.

“Kraken! It’s the kraken!” The voice of the captain bellowed from the decks. Raphael paused, holding fast to the ropes that suspended the rowboat over the disturbed waters below.

Now, it was common knowledge that sailors often told tall tales of sea monsters. Months at sea will do things to ya, was the common response, coupled with the solemn shake of the head. Ships went missing all the time, though that didn’t necessarily mean they were sunken by a leviathan.

And yet, as Raphael peeked over the side of the boat, staring deep below the waves and foam, he spied what could be described as nothing but an enormous snake.

A tentacle.

In a panic, Raphael grasped the ropes and shimmied the boat back up towards the deck, trying to get as far away from the water as possible. Though, as he approached the railing, his cover was nearly blown as a crew mate leaned over and pointed at the gargantuan form below the surface.

“Shit…” the stowaway hissed as he ducked back under the tarp just in time. His heart raced as he realized he was trapped between the deck of the ship and the watery grave just below.

The ship rocked suddenly, and the deck erupted in shouts as the monster’s tentacles surfaced, bright blue appendages thicker than a man was tall. Either side of the ship was grasped suddenly, one on each side, snaking upwards slowly.

Raphael peeked out from the tarp, unable to believe his eyes. The hull creaked and groaned under the weight of the massive tentacle that slithered along the surface, almost meticulously, like it was feeling around for something.

He was not about to stick around for this hellish leviathan to sink the ship. Such a giant creature would not be interested in a tiny rowboat, he wagered with little hope.

Two whacks from his cutlass, and the ropes were severed. Raphael held fast as the rowboat dropped off the side of the ship, plummeting to the ocean below. He landed with a painful splash that jolted his entire body, nearly stunning him for a moment.

The sounds of cannons above him startled him into scrambling along the seats and deploying the oars. He whipped the boat around and started rowing, watching as the enormous ship was dwarfed by another pair of tentacles rising out of the water below.

“Those old sea dogs were right, huh!” Raphael exclaimed as he rowed further and further away from the commotion of the fabled sea monster. As he had hoped, the leviathan busied itself with the ship, leaving him with another successful escape and quite a tale to tell once he reached shore.

However, as he rowed on, he grew quite tired of fighting the large waves with just two oars. He wasn’t sure if he had gotten anywhere by his own rowing, or if the currents and wind carried him. All he knew was the sailing ship was no longer in sight, and neither was any sign of a landmass.

With the sun still bright, the man grew weary, clad with only a black and white shirt, dark pants, and tall leather boots. He stowed the oars and covered himself with the tarp, shading his weathered skin from the sun as he sorted through his provisions.

“More than a week’s worth, so long as this thimble doesn’t sink.” Raphael said as he rationed the food and water that was already smuggled away for the ship’s journey. His only hope now was to find any sort of land or ship that would rescue him before his water depletes.

Since the act of rowing was tiresome and nearly useless against the waves, the stowaway, now captain of the dinghy, resumed the act of hunkering down under the tarp and letting the waves carry him wherever they may lead.

The rowboat drifted for hours, rocking this way and that, a tiny speck in the vast blue ocean. Thankfully the weather was calm and the temperature mild, though favorable conditions never lasted as long as you’d expect them to on the open ocean.

As the sun was nearing the horizon, painting the sky with orange and purple hues, Raphael uncovered himself and leaned back in the boat, taking small sips from his canteen and enjoying a rather unripe pear. He laughed to himself, thinking of how it’s possible that he was the only survivor from that ship, and they had no knowledge of him even being onboard.

As he finished off the core of the pear, Raphael felt an ominous rumble rattle his body. He grew tense and gripped the sides of the rowboat as he not only felt it, but heard it, somewhere deep under the waves. Something immense.

“Oh, no.” He said shakily as a cloud of bubbles erupted around the boat, a phenomenon that often occurred along with a large pod of whales preparing to surface. Raphael flung the oars out and rowed quickly away from the bubbling water, not about to let his dinghy be capsized.

The small boat did not get very far before something surfaced, not a whale or a tentacle, but a face.

A giant, human-like head surfaced before Raphael, as water poured down their dark blue-streaked skin. Bright yellow eyes peered at the castaway, set on a masculine face with long silvery-blue hair and an array of fin-like structures on either side of his head. A massive, towering head.

Raphael stared up in shock momentarily before letting out a terrified scream. First a kraken, now a giant? The odds were not in his favor today, though the oddities certainly were starting to pile up.

The giant, treading the water as he loomed over Raphael and his rowboat, tilted his head and let out a chuff, a rumbling puff of air. An enormous hand rose underneath the boat and lifted it in his palm just as wide as it was long.

The giant opened his lips and said ‘I mean you no harm’, but to Raphael’s human ears, all he heard was a deep, throaty rumble.

“Don’t eat me, don’t eat me!” Raphael merely shouted in response, huddling in his boat that was now captured by the steady hand of the giant. Enormous navy blue fingers with thick claws curved above his head, as wide as a tree.

The giant’s lips curved into a smile, yellow eyes glowing patiently. He held Raphael and his little boat in his right hand, lifted up and out of the water and closer to his enormous face.

‘I am not going to eat you.’ The giant growled. ‘It’s alright. You’re safe.’

“I-I don’t know what you’re saying… are you speaking? Can you understand me?” Raphael said from his captured boat. The man, dwarfed by the giant’s hand around him, stared quizzically at the giant’s glistening face.

‘Yes. Though you may not understand my words, I am speaking your language.’ The giant said calmly, closing his eyes as he nodded and mouthed his words in an exaggerated fashion. Raphael couldn’t help but notice the giant’s mouth was lined with sharp fangs, with a curiously buttery yellow interior.

Raphael started to feel a little more at ease in the ocean giant’s hand. He couldn’t understand why he wasn’t drowned or eaten yet, but the mere premise of being held captive by the towering man was unnerving.

“It must be giant monster day. First a kraken, then you? A giant? A… god?” Raphael said as he gestured to the enormous man.

The giant, named Sithero, let out an airy laugh as he leaned back and lifted the tiny man in his hand higher above the water, giving him a better view of the leviathan’s body. The same blue tentacles that wrapped around the ship rose out of the water around Sithero’s torso, slithering about and swirling the sea.

Raphael stared down for a second, leaning over the side of the boat from within Sithero’s palm. The rest of Sithero’s body began to surface, and the giant angled his hand in a way that the human within could observe the massive length of his tail.

“...You’re the kraken? What on earth… you’re like a mermaid, a giant one… a giant mer… man? I suppose?” The human exclaimed as his eyes trailed down the length of the kraken’s body. He was covered in fine blue scales of varying shades, with his belly and chest lighter in color. From the waist down, his body became elongated, ribbed with hard scutes. He was so large, in fact, that Raphael wondered if he could see the end of his tail at all.

‘I’m Sithero. What are you called?’ The kraken rumbled as he raised his other hand and pointed a clawed finger at the human in his palm.

“What, what’s that about? Me?” Raphael said shakily as the very large kraken pointed and rumbled something at him.

Sithero smiled calmly and pointed at himself. ‘Sithero.’ He growled, emphasizing each syllable before pointing to Raphael again.

“Sss… Slith. Slither. Sith?” The human said, twirling his hands around as he sounded out the guttural growls.

‘Sith… air… oh.’ The kraken hissed.

“Sithero…” Raphael said, and the giant nodded in approval.

“Okay, we’re getting somewhere. Oh, I’m Raphael.” The human said, feeling more comfortable as their strange conversation went on. “Gotta say, I did not expect to be talking to the kraken that, um, attacked our ship.” He said, avoiding to the fact that he was a stowaway, not that Sithero would really care.

‘The ship is fine. I was just saying hello.’ Sithero growled a deep laugh as he waved his other hand in a greeting motion.

“Hello?” Raphael said quietly, waving back. Sithero smiled and chuckled at his new tiny friend.

‘Where are you headed?’ Sithero asked, shrugging his shoulders and gesturing to the vast ocean.

“Uh, I got here by ship. Now I don’t quite know where I am, or frankly, what’s going to happen to me.” Raphael sighed, stretching his arms backwards.

‘I know a place. You can rest there, it’s getting too dark for humans.’ The kraken rumbled and nodded gently, bringing his other hand up and cupping Raphael and his boat.

“I don’t suppose you have it in you to carry me somewhere?” Raphael asked hopefully at the enormous creature, seeing a glimpse of his own reflection in his eerie yellow irises.

‘Yes. But you mustn’t panic.’ Sithero rumbled as he opened his mouth slightly and rubbed his bright-colored tongue along the edges of his teeth.

Raphael winced, leaning away from the giant’s mouth that was quite close now.

“Woah. Hey. We’re on a first-name basis now, you can’t eat me.” He said, clutching the sides of the rowboat.

‘That’s not my intention. Truthfully, you will drown unless I do this… so relax.’ Sithero growled as he angled his head backwards and pinched the boat between his fingers, gently tilting it towards his open mouth.

Raphael, upon seeing the enormous yellow mouth below him, immediately began to panic and flail wildly in the boat that was slowly tipping. “HEY! Stop, stop!!” He shouted, eyes wide at the sight of the kraken’s fanged jaws.

‘If you don’t stop flailing, I might actually bite you.’ The giant growled and tilted the boat upside-down above his open mouth.

Raphael, as nimble as he was, managed to wedge himself under the rowboat’s seats before it was completely tipped over. He wrapped his arms around the boards with just his legs dangling, whimpering as his provisions fell down onto the sea monster’s tongue.

“Cripes…” The man groaned as he gripped onto the board like his life depended on it.

Sithero blinked, expression blank as he closed his mouth, tasting the tiny crates and flasks that fell onto his tongue. He eyed Raphael one last time before gently tipping the boat back upright.

‘Alright. Plan B.’ He rumbled before angling the boat bow-first towards his mouth.

“Don’t… don’t you dare.” Raphael blurted as he righted himself in the bottom of the boat before being plunged into the kraken’s mouth.

The man screamed as the entire rowboat was taken in, sides banging against the monster’s teeth that encircled the cavernous jaws.

Sithero calmly wedged the boat inside, using the tip of his finger to push the stern just past his incisors, which closed together. Raphael was completely sealed inside, along with all of his belongings.

The air inside the giant’s mouth was humid, smelling of seawater. Raphael hunkered down in his little wooden boat, eyes wide as he took in the situation. Though the kraken’s mouth was shut tight, the interior of his mouth glowed a faint, soft yellow. It was quite beautiful, Raphael found himself thinking, as the ridges of Sithero’s palate above him were dotted with bioluminescent photophores.

“Quit messin’ with me… are you gonna eat me or not?” Raphael shouted from within the giant’s mouth, gripping onto the boat as if it was about to rock back towards Sithero’s gullet.

Instead, he was rocked forwards as the kraken dove under the waves. The leviathan took his little friend along, safely sealed in the air pocket in his mouth. His enormous body arched past the waves as the end of his tail raised above the water, then was gone.

Sithero kept Raphael in his jaws for the ride, traveling swift and deep. Though his movements were heavy, he leveled his head carefully to make the trip as comfortable as possible for the human. Deep rumbles of reassurance echoed in his spacious mouth, where Raphael sat hunkered down on top of the giant’s tongue.

Time went on, and Raphael started to relax as best as he could in the humid mouth of the kraken. He hadn’t been swallowed, and instead remained on Sithero’s tongue as the giant carried him into the depths.

“I suppose… this is necessary. I doubt I can hold my breath as long as you.” Raphael said as he laid back in the boat, staring up at Sithero’s upper palate.

Sithero, after a short while, came to an enormous submerged cave. His long body just barely fit through the entrance as he slipped inside, using his limbs to push along the rocky sides to propel his huge body swiftly, until emerging into a large chamber.

The kraken huffed as water dripped from his hair, dispelling droplets from his nostrils as his head and shoulders surfaced from the seawater onto a smooth stone surface in an air-filled cave. He leveled his head and opened his jaws, allowing Raphael to finally breathe in fresh air after being trapped inside.

“Ah, freedom!” The stowaway exclaimed as he stumbled along the boat, looking out from the giant’s teeth encircling him and his vessel.

Sithero rumbled in amusement as he pinched the end of the small boat between his thumb and forefinger and slid it and Raphael out of his mouth. He carefully placed it on the floor of the cave and yawned, stretching his arms and back as he arched his head back.

Raphael, still adjusting to the dim light of the cave, fumbled about in his boat, rocking the frame a few times to determine the stability of the surface. He was painfully aware of the fact that he was surrounded by damp rock, the sheer mass of the kraken’s body as it towered above him in the darkness.

Tentatively, the man swung his leg over the the side of the boat and planted it on the surface. He stood on both legs, glancing around slowly.

“So uh, where did you bring me? Y’know I’m not terribly fond of spelunking…” Raphael said as he stared up at the huge, glimmering figure above him.

Sithero’s eyes and photophores that dotted along his body glowed in the low light. The giant hummed as he reached out into the darkness, rummaging through piles of debris. He picked out a lantern delicately between his claws, handing it to Raphael, who took it into his hands.

“Ah, you’ve got a hoard of some sorts?” The man said as the lantern lit up to his surprise, illuminating the immediate area. His eyes widened as he was greeted with scattered remains of ships, masts as tall as trees with the sails still attached. They were carefully placed against the wall of the cave, each one laid out in all its splendor.

The man’s knees began to buckle at the sheer sight of so many shipwrecks, displayed like trophies in the kraken’s lair. Accompanying the masts were the ship’s figureheads, the intricate carvings of ladies and dragons and other mythical beasts that adorned the bow of sailing ships.

“So… I can only imagine how these all got here.” Raphael said rather quietly as he swung the lantern around, only to be greeted by the enormous face of Sithero, who was peering at the man curiously.

“Geeze, you’re huge.” The man whispered as he held the lantern up to the giant’s face, who was smiling softly.

‘I collect them, that’s all. Better here than rotting in the water.’ Sithero rumbled as he reached out and picked up a mermaid figurehead, gazing at it fondly.

“They are quite pretty… I bet there are some famous ships that wrecked here. You know the navy would kill to get their hands on these, right?” Raphael uttered as he set the lantern in his rowboat and rummaged through his damp provisions.

‘They’d kill me regardless. That’s why I disarm cannons and harpoons when I visit sailing ships.’ Sithero uttered as he flicked a detached cannon along the surface of the cave with his fingers.

“Ah, I can’t imagine those would do much damage to something as big as you.” The man said as he heard the heavy clang of iron.

Sithero laughed, a deep rumble that shook Raphael’s bones. ‘I don’t underestimate humans! You little things can pack a punch.’ He growled as he leaned in close to the wary man, who stiffened up. The kraken’s breath tousled his brown hair, which was slicked back with a green and white bandana.

“… You’re so big, though. I mean, look. Your tooth is bigger than my head!” Raphael said as he pointed at Sithero’s lips, where a canine poked out.

Sithero curled his lip up to reveal the full length of his canine, which shone brilliantly in the lantern’s light. ‘This is true. I could bite you in two with one snap.’ The kraken growled as he clicked his teeth together, which sent a shiver up Raphael’s spine as he glimpsed those white teeth flashing in his vision.

“You don’t… plan to eat me after all this, do you?” Raphael uttered, feeling absolutely minuscule in his little wooden boat underneath the giant’s gaze.

‘That depends, do you consider the ride in my mouth as being eaten? It’s the only way you’ll be able to exit this cave.’ The kraken grinned as he licked his lips with his yellow tongue.

“Hey, I really don’t want to go back in there. I know it’s what kept me from drowning, but…” Raphael sighed, glancing at his provisions soaked with the kraken’s saliva.

‘Feel free to try another way out.’ Sithero growled as he looked down at the man’s supplies. Curiously, the giant picked up Raphael in his boat and lifted it up to his eye.

“Hey, easy!” The man yelled as he was rocked by the momentum of being lifted.

‘Is your stuff ruined?’ Sithero asked, eyeing the cloth sacks on the bottom of the boat.

“That’s just my food… well, what’s left of it. The bread is probably all soggy, but as long as the rum is there… aha!” Raphael exclaimed as he produced a green glass bottle filled with spirits. The man popped the cork and took a swig straight from the bottle, sighing happily once he removed the glass from his lips.

‘Humans are always drinking that.’ Sithero chuckled, holding Raphael in his wooden boat.

“I suppose they don’t make bottles in your size. Good thing, too, cause I’d be swimmin’ in it.” Raphael laughed as he kicked back in the boat and continued drinking.

Sithero couldn’t help but smile as he cupped the boat in his palm, eyeing the human inside of it. The giant tilted his head, observing the interior of the rowboat, suddenly getting an idea.

‘Come here.’ He growled, using his other hand to pinch Raphael’s upper body between his thumb and forefinger. The man exclaimed as he was lifted out of the boat and placed directly onto Sithero’s palm, holding tight to his rum bottle.

The kraken placed the empty boat on the cave floor and turned his gaze to the human in his hands, suddenly feeling very warm at how small and delicate he looked, laid out on his palm, barely half the length of his finger.

Raphael sneered up at the giant, briefly attempting to stand up before flailing and falling backwards, spilling a little rum on himself.

“Gah… you big beast... I didn’t ask to be in yer hands!” Raphael blurted as he wiped the rum off his shirt, glancing up at the giant’s piercing gaze.

Sithero merely chuckled, rumbling deep in the back of his throat as his soft gaze took in the man’s form.

“Ah, to hell with it. You’re pretty nice, for a sea monster. Besides, if I’m gonna be eaten, I wanna be drunk.” The man grunted as he sipped his rum.

‘You look very relaxed.’ Sithero uttered as he held his hands steady, with one cupped under the other. The giant was mostly submerged, with just his upper body resting on the rocky cave floor, propped up by his elbows.

‘I’ve never held a human like this. It’s… nice.’ He rumbled, awed by the sight of Raphael leaning against the base of his fingers.

“Ya keep looking at me like I’m… a doll or somethin’. S’weird.” Raphael hiccuped from his lack of inhibition.

‘Don’t tell me you have a problem with the way I interact with tiny things such as yourself.’ Sithero laughed. ‘I’m aware that humans consider me to be frightening and dangerous, while I personally consider humans to be delightful. I think you should be grateful that I’m holding you this way instead of drowning you a thousand feet under the sea.’

Raphael blinked, staring blankly up at the rumbling giant. By now, he was able to understand the enormous kraken’s growling manner of speech. However, the alcohol was slowing his cognitive thinking more and more each passing minute, leading him to respond with a simple “Fair enough.”

Sithero smiled, regardless, and cupped his hand loosely around the human as he pulled his hefty body further onto the cave floor. Raphael grumbled as he was closed in by enormous fingers while the giant made himself more comfortable, turning onto his back and propping his body up against the cave walls.

The kraken sighed as he leaned back, leaving his long tail submerged in the dark ocean water while his upper body relaxed and cupped Raphael in his hand, which rested comfortably on top of his stomach.

Raphael, in drunken bliss, hummed as he was held by the giant. He laid back in Sithero’s hands, his head nestled neatly between the cracks of his fingers. The man sighed, feeling the warmth of skin underneath him, the rush of the giant’s breaths and gurgling insides.

“Hey, I forgot yer name. Sithy.” Raphael muttered through flushed cheeks, his rum nearly gone. “You’re pretty swell. I ain’t got a home or family or whatnot, so this is a nice treat… s’like I’m in a fancy rich bed. Heh heh.”

‘Sithy, huh. I kinda like that.’ The kraken chuckled. He then leaned forward and carefully plucked the nearly empty rum bottle from Raphael’s hands with the tips of his claws. ‘And, that’s enough for you.’

“Gimme that…” Raphael groaned as he reached for the bottle, which promptly disappeared in the giant’s mouth.

‘Hmm.’ Sithero rumbled as he rolled the open bottle on his tongue, spilling the contents out and onto his taste buds. ‘You made it seem so much tastier than this.’

“It IS tasty. Don’t guzzle my rum!” Raphael grumbled as he wobbled onto his legs and attempted to scale Sithero’s torso.

‘Careful.’ The giant growled as the drunken man ignored him, stumbling his way up the firm musculature of his abdomen. ‘Where do you think you’re going?’

“Gimme my bottle back…” Raphael slurred, clinging to the giant’s pectoral. The slope of the monstrous man’s chest proved difficult for the small, drunk human to navigate over.

Amused, Sithero leaned back all the way, laying flat on his back to allow Raphael to stumble along his body. With the bottle still in his mouth, Sithero tilted his head up and opened up slightly, allowing the determined man to see the prize within reach.

“Ya don’t take a man’s rum, Sithy…” Raphael grunted as he stumbled against the giant’s lips, feebly reaching into the open mouth with the bottle resting in the middle of Sithero’s tongue. With a gentle tilt, Sithero scooped Raphael inside his mouth with the end of his yellow tongue, rolling him onto the center.

Once Raphael got a hold of the empty bottle, he groaned, hugging it to his chest and rolling over inside Sithero’s mouth, curling up where he laid and promptly passing out.

Sithero, with his mouth slightly open, breathed evenly. His tongue quivered as Raphael’s small body curled up on top, unbothered by the saliva. He slowly shut his mouth, cupping his tongue to give the human space inside. He was so much smaller without his boat, something Sithero was painfully aware of. How easy it would be to swallow him whole, he thought.

‘Raphael.’ Sithero rumbled, his tongue shifting as he spoke, which stirred the inebriated man. Raphael responded with grumpy grumbles, no longer coherent or aware of his surroundings.

Sithero sighed, deciding that it was inevitable, now. After all, Raphael climbed right into his jaws.

With a tilt of his tongue, Raphael was slid down the center, his unconscious body passing the giant’s tonsils, entering his esophagus.

A gentle gulp, and Sithero tilted his head back and squeezed Raphael down his throat. The man groaned as he was swallowed, his body engulfed by wet flesh that slid him easily down the giant’s gullet, though not much could be done to slow his descent.

Sithero sighed warmly, placing the tips of his fingers against his neck as Raphael went down, forming a solid bulge underneath. The kraken growled, humming softly as the warm little human was taken into his innards.

After a little while, Raphael had been squeezed down the entire length of Sithero’s esophagus, where he was slid into a warm, wet chamber within the giant’s ribcage. The man gasped a little and moaned as he suddenly felt sick to his stomach after being tipped upside-down.

He had been swallowed, yet Sithero knew he was safe. The kraken’s stomach was multi-chambered to fill his enormous body cavity, with only the lower portion unsafe for passengers. Satisfied with the feeling of a warm, living body squirming in his belly, the giant set his head back on the ground and stroked his stomach fondly.

‘Nothing for you to stumble on and get hurt in there.’ Sithero uttered as he traced his finger along his abdomen. ‘Just don’t be mad at me when you wake up.’

Raphael passed out not long after, blissfully unaware of his surroundings, sleeping rather soundly and comfortably surrounded by soft flesh.

The night went on, though the two were far from the stars. Under the waves and buried under earth and rock, the underwater cave was a safe haven devoid of sunlight. Only bioluminescent plankton, algae, and jellyfish provided any form of light.

Sithero was first to awaken, his massive form turned onto his front as he arched his back in a stretch. The giant rumbled softly as he placed a hand on his stomach, feeling the tiny presence of Raphael inside, still fast asleep.

The kraken took the opportunity to gather the rest of Raphael’s belongings, placing them carefully into the wooden boat, along with some trinkets and treasures from the shipwrecks. He then picked up the boat and placed it inside his mouth, taking care not to swallow any of the tiny human objects.

Sithero slid his huge body into the pool of the cave, sinking below the surface and back into the tunnel towards the cave entrance. His yellow eyes adjusted to the light that illuminated at the end of the cave, indicating that morning had come.

Still holding the rowboat in his mouth, the giant emerged from the cave and swam upwards, surfacing along the rocky cliffs of the landmass above the submerged cave that he called his home. Gulls cried as the kraken’s enormous head scanned the coastline before heading towards a sandy beach.

Sithero huffed as he heaved his monstrous body onto the sand, removing the boat from his mouth and placing it gingerly on the shore. He blinked calmly, placing a hand on his stomach again, determining the best time to let Raphael out.

‘Are you awake?’ Sithero growled, patting his stomach. A soft squirming inside of him told him that the man was at least stirring, no doubt hungover.

“Ughh…” Raphael groaned, rolling in the glowing interior of the giant. He opened his eyes briefly, shutting them quickly when he was met with nothing but soft yellow hues.

‘As much as I don’t mind this, I think you need fresh air.’ Sithero sighed as he straightened his back and flexed his stomach, the soft folds compressing around Raphael as it pushed him upwards and into the giant’s esophagus. Not long after, Sithero leaned forward and allowed the human to slide into his mouth, completely soaked in saliva.

The giant held his mouth open, allowing the cooler air to fill the inside, chilling Raphael awake. The man woke with a jolt, eyes wide and dizzy as he took in the frightening view of enormous, sharp teeth encircling him.

“Oh, god.” He uttered, covering his eyes with his hands, incidentally bumping the empty rum bottle against his skull.

Sithero calmly tilted his head down and slid the human onto his palm, who was still clinging to the bottle. ‘Hmm, you got your rum back after all.’ The kraken chuckled.

“How… much did I drink…” Raphael groaned, tilting the bottle upside-down and dropping it in defeat. He wiped his forehead and neck, wincing at the gooey saliva coating him.

‘Nearly all of it. How do you feel?’ The kraken growled as he peered at the soggy man in his palm, expression softening at how disheveled he looked.

“I… I’m fine.” Raphael groaned as he rolled over in the giant’s palm, averting his gaze from the morning sunlight. “How long was I… in your mouth?”

Sithero blinked, unsure of how much Raphael remembered from last night. Did he have no recollection of climbing directly into his jaws and promptly going down his throat?

‘Ah, a good while. You should wash off.’ Sithero uttered as he turned and placed Raphael on the sand beside the water, who stumbled directly into the surf, submerging his entire body as he fell face-first.

Sithero watched the man slump into the ocean, jolting as he reached for him and promptly plucked his limp body out of the waves.

‘That’s one way to get clean, I suppose…’ The giant grumbled as he held Raphael between his thumb and forefinger, letting him drip onto the sand below.

“I’m awake, I’m awake…” Raphael groaned as he squirmed in the giant’s fingers. “You… ugh, you ate me, didn’t you?” He uttered as he pointed a finger at Sithero’s enormous striped face.

‘I don’t know what you mean.’ Sithero chuckled deeply as a tiny finger wagged at him.

“You swallowed me!” Raphael blurted.

‘Ah, that I did. Big difference.’ The kraken replied.

“What d’ya mean? I was in your stomach, you tellin’ me that’s not eatin’ me?” Raphael retorted, wriggling defiantly, though weakly.

‘You weren’t digested. Silly thing.’ Sithero rumbled as he set Raphael on the seat of his rowboat. ‘I intend to keep you safe, and that is what I did. Now settle down, drink some water.’

“What water? All I got to my name is…” Raphael trailed off as he looked down at the floor of the boat and saw that it was filled with a generous pile of assorted treasures, from necklaces and coins to daggers and swords. His green eyes glittered with delight.

“Is this all for me?” Raphael asked up at the giant, his tone vastly sweeter than before.

‘Yes, don’t go spending it all in one place.’ Sithero rumbled as he stretched up and glanced around, scanning the horizon for ships.

“I dunno what to say… this is all so… it’s enough to get me some land and my own ship!” Raphael exclaimed as he pored over the treasures. “How could I ever repay you?”

Sithero shrugged as he returned his gaze to the gleeful human. ‘No need, I enjoyed our time together, after all. I only ask that you visit me, should you find yourself in this area again.’

“That’s more than fair… are you leaving, then?” Raphael asked up at the giant, who leaned close to him and smiled.

‘Does Raphael want me to stay?’ The giant chuckled, more so when Raphael’s face flushed pink.

“I-I don’t wanna keep you… I also enjoyed our time together, though perhaps the rum is to blame for part of that…” Raphael said as he stared at the giant’s enormous lips.

‘Don’t worry, I know just what to do with a drunken sailor.’ Sithero winked, and Raphael’s heart sank into his chest.

“… Any chance you got rum on you?” He said shyly, rubbing his hands together in his lap as he looked up at the giant.

‘Sadly, no. Make sure you bring enough for me next time, though.’ Sithero said toothily as he tapped his enormous finger on the end of Raphael’s boat.

“So, tonight?” The man said, holding his breath in his chest.

‘Tonight.’

[wheretwofacesmeet]

[dee-writes-angst]

THE SUMMER COURT (Chapter Three)

FEATURING Lucien Vanserra x Reader

SUMMARY Tarquin's court is beautiful, so dazzling it takes your breath away. If only that were the only thing...

CONTENT WARNINGS slight angst, besties, Tarquin being the cutie little flirt that he is, reader and Lucien get a lot closer, elain being a lost soul, reader hating Elain just slightly

AUTHORS NOTE this was a long time in the making and I'm still not sure if it's my favorite, but I couldn't deny you any longer. Hope you enjoy!! <3

SERIES MASTERLIST

The warmth of the Summer Court embraced you the moment you stepped off the carriage, the breeze carrying with it the scent of saltwater and sun-drenched fruit. Everything here felt alive—vibrant. The contrast to the crisp, golden hues of Autumn was immediate and intoxicating. Lush greens and deep blues stretched out before you, as if the land itself had been painted by the sea and sky.

You barely had time to take in the view when a melodic voice interrupted your thoughts.

“I see the Summer Court has blessed us with a rare visitor.”

The voice, rich and warm like the afternoon sun, drew your attention to the tall, silver-haired High Lord approaching you with a charming smile. Tarquin’s presence was magnetic, his bright eyes shimmering like the clear waters that surrounded his court. He stopped in front of you, his gaze lingering with unmistakable interest.

“And who might this radiant visitor be?” Tarquin asked, his voice low, the question almost teasing as his gaze flicked briefly to Lucien before returning to you.

“High Lord Tarquin,” Lucien greeted tightly from your side, his tone clipped but polite. His hand was tense at his side, fingers flexing as if he was fighting the urge to do something—anything. The rigid set of his shoulders and the way his jaw tightened with each word Tarquin spoke didn’t go unnoticed.

“Lucien Vanserra,” Tarquin replied smoothly, nodding in acknowledgement but his attention quickly returning to you. “But I was speaking to the beautiful lady by your side.” His smile widened, and the playful glint in his eyes suggested he was well aware of the tension his words were causing.

“I—” you began, unsure how to respond to the High Lord’s flirtatious greeting.

“Ah,” he said before you could finish, taking your hand gently and pressing his lips to the back of it. “I apologize for being forward, but I believe that if I had met someone so lovely before now, I would surely remember it.” He let go of your hand but not before his thumb brushed your knuckles lightly, lingering in a way that sent a flutter of warmth up your spine.

Lucien shifted beside you, clearing his throat. “We’re here on business,” he said, his voice a touch firmer now, as if trying to pull the conversation back on track.

“Of course, of course.” Tarquin finally relented, a soft chuckle escaping him. “Business. Well then, allow me to introduce you to someone who will ensure your stay in the Summer Court is nothing less than perfect.”

He turned to gesture at a woman who had been waiting nearby, her expression composed and welcoming. She was tall, with sun-kissed skin and long, dark hair that gleamed under the warm sunlight. Her deep blue gown fluttered slightly in the breeze, and her soft eyes held a kindness that immediately put you at ease.

“This is Anna,” Tarquin introduced with a sweeping motion. “She’ll be your guide for the next two weeks while you stay here. Anna knows every hidden cove and secret passage in this court. If there’s something to discover, she’s the one to show you.”

Anna stepped forward, smiling warmly as she inclined her head slightly in greeting. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” she said, her voice as smooth and calm as the tides that lapped the shores nearby. “I’ll do my best to ensure your time in the Summer Court is both enjoyable and productive.”

“Thank you,” you replied, offering a smile in return, though you couldn’t help but notice the tension that still radiated off Lucien. His gaze flicked between Tarquin and Anna, but he gave a brief nod in her direction.

“Anna will take excellent care of you,” Tarquin continued, but the mischievous gleam hadn’t left his eyes. “And if you find the time to explore more… personal delights, don’t hesitate to call on me.” His voice dropped an octave on the last few words, clearly directed at you.

Before Lucien could respond, Anna took a step forward, cutting off any further tension. “I’ll show you to your rooms, and then we can discuss the itinerary for your stay,” she said with an inviting smile, steering the conversation away from Tarquin’s teasing.

With that, you, Lucien, and Anna began your walk toward the stunning architecture of the Summer Court’s palace, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore in the distance. As you walked, you could feel Lucien’s eyes burning holes in the side of your head, though he remained silent, his thoughts likely as turbulent as the waters surrounding this sun-soaked kingdom.

As you walked through the lush gardens of the Summer Court, the vibrant surroundings should have been enough to distract you—the heady perfume of flowers in full bloom, the salt-kissed breeze from the sea, the soft calls of exotic birds perched in tall, swaying trees. Marble pathways lined with seashells and opalescent stones shimmered beneath your feet, catching the sun like the Summer Court itself had been woven out of light. The palace in the distance, with its towering spires and cascading fountains, was a breathtaking display of wealth and power—each column and arch sculpted with the sea in mind, the architecture almost appearing to ripple like water.

But your mind wasn’t fully present, not really. As beautiful as the Summer Court was, the events of the previous night in Spring still gnawed at you, replaying over and over in your head like a haunting melody. The argument between Lucien and Tamlin echoed in your thoughts, their voices sharp and bitter, cutting through the beauty around you.

“...can’t keep doing this, Tamlin. You need to let go—holding onto this anger, this guilt, it’s tearing you apart.”

Lucien’s words had been so full of frustration, his voice tight with emotion. You hadn’t meant to overhear, hadn’t meant to be drawn into their private battle, but something about it had pulled you closer, kept you there, listening.

Elain.

Lucien had never mentioned her to you before. Not once during your travels to the Spring Court. Not during any of the tense silences that had grown between you whenever the conversation drifted toward his past. But that night, it was all laid bare—an open wound that had yet to heal, a name that seemed to cut deeper than any blade.

Her name had been like a slap to the face, a reminder of the bond that tethered Lucien to a woman who wasn’t here—who didn’t want him. The weight of it had settled into your chest like a stone, making it hard to breathe. You’d felt his tension, the way Tamlin’s cruel words had hurt him, and in that moment, something within you had shifted. The dynamic between the two men had been painful to witness—Tamlin’s bitterness, Lucien’s tightly controlled anger, and beneath it all, a deep well of sorrow that neither seemed willing to acknowledge.

“...she’ll never love you, Lucien. Not like that.”

Those words had hit you harder than they should have. You weren’t sure why. Perhaps because you could feel Lucien’s heart breaking, piece by piece, as if Tamlin’s cruelty had shattered something fragile inside him. Or perhaps because you saw yourself in that moment, in the idea of wanting something—someone—so desperately, but knowing that it could never be.

As you followed Anna and Lucien, the opulent surroundings of the Summer Court seemed to blur at the edges, dulled by the storm of thoughts swirling in your mind. The palace’s towering columns and turquoise mosaics became a backdrop, muted by the emotions that clawed at you, refusing to let go.

The hallway leading to your rooms opened up into a massive courtyard, where crystalline fountains bubbled merrily, water dancing in the air before splashing back into the pools. Marble statues adorned the space, each one delicately crafted, depicting Summer’s High Lords and Ladies of the past, their faces serene and noble. But even here, in the midst of such grandeur, your thoughts drifted back to that tense exchange, to the coldness in Lucien’s voice as he left Tamlin behind.

“I’m done here, Tamlin.”

Lucien’s voice had been so quiet, so full of finality, that it had chilled you to the bone. You had been ready to retreat back to your room then, unwilling to intrude any further, but the weight of what you’d heard had followed you like a shadow.

Anna’s voice broke you from your thoughts, her tone pleasant as she led you up the wide stone steps to the palace entrance, her voice a welcome distraction from the storm that had been brewing in your mind.

“The palace is one of the jewels of the Summer Court,” she explained, waving a hand at the grand structure ahead. Sunlight streamed through the coral-like latticework, casting shimmering patterns along the smooth, polished floors. The doors were crafted from pale wood, inlaid with pearls and mother-of-pearl, and as they opened, the cool, inviting air of the palace swept over you.

Inside, the walls seemed to glow, adorned with intricate murals of ocean scenes—mermaids, sea creatures, ships on glittering waves—all masterfully painted in hues of blue and silver. Each room you passed was a display of the Summer Court’s wealth: delicate chandeliers that resembled drops of seawater, curtains of sheer fabric that fluttered like waves in the breeze, and expansive windows that opened to breathtaking views of the sparkling sea.

Yet despite the elegance and grandeur, a knot remained tight in your chest.

Lucien had been quiet since you’d left the Spring Court—more so than usual. Even now, walking beside you in the Summer Court’s warm embrace, he was distant, his brow furrowed, his steps measured. You knew he was thinking of her—Elain. Perhaps he’d been thinking of her for a long time, ever since your journey began. Maybe that’s why he had taken up this emissary role. Maybe his heart had never been here, with you, in these courts. Maybe it had always belonged somewhere else, with someone else.

The thought stung, though you tried to push it aside, focusing instead on the breathtaking beauty of the palace. It wasn’t like you had any claim to Lucien’s heart. He had always been an enigma to you—charming and polite, yet guarded. He wore his smiles like armor, his laughter like a mask. You had seen glimpses of the man behind the facade, yes, but only glimpses. And now, knowing what you did about Elain, you wondered if you’d ever truly know him.

“This is your wing,” Anna announced as she led you through another archway, her voice still warm, though she seemed to sense the heavy atmosphere between you and Lucien. “Your rooms overlook the sea, and there’s a private terrace where you can enjoy the sunrise. I’ll let you get settled, but if you need anything, don’t hesitate to call.”

You nodded, offering her a polite smile as she left, but your thoughts were already slipping back to Lucien, to the weight of what you had overheard. You paused before entering your room, glancing at him, hoping to find some clue in his expression, some hint of the emotions he was holding so tightly.

But his face was as unreadable as ever.

“Are you alright?” you finally asked, your voice soft, hesitant.

Lucien glanced at you, his golden eye glinting in the soft light. He looked tired—more tired than you’d ever seen him. “I’m fine,” he replied, though the tightness in his voice betrayed him.

You wanted to press, to ask about Elain, about the argument, about what it meant for him, for you, for this journey. But the words caught in your throat. Perhaps now wasn’t the time. Perhaps you weren’t ready to hear the truth.

With a quiet nod, you both turned to your respective rooms, though the distance between you felt greater than ever.

That evening, as the sun dipped low over the Summer Court, painting the sky in shades of amber and violet, you found yourself alone in your room, the soft lapping of waves from the nearby sea a distant but constant lullaby. The earlier events of the day still weighed on your mind—Lucien’s quiet brooding, the beauty of the Summer Court, the conversation with Anna—but for a brief moment, you allowed yourself to simply breathe. The room, bathed in the soft light of sunset, was peaceful. The sea breeze stirred the gauzy curtains around the large windows, carrying with it the scent of salt and warmth, a promise of more to come.

A knock at the door pulled you from your reverie.

"Come in," you called, expecting Anna or perhaps even Lucien. But when the door opened, it was Tarquin, the High Lord of Summer himself, who stepped inside, his smile as radiant as the sun that reflected off the sea outside.

"Good evening," he greeted, his voice a low purr, smooth and inviting. His gaze flickered around your room before settling on you with a twinkle of mischief. “I hope you’re settling in well. Thought I’d stop by and make sure our guest of honor was being treated properly.”

You couldn't help but smile at his charm. "Everything is perfect. Your court is beautiful, I can see why so many speak of it so highly."

Tarquin leaned casually against the doorframe, folding his arms over his chest, his eyes never leaving yours. “I’m glad to hear it, but I imagine you’re used to beautiful places by now, being an emissary. Autumn is quite… striking in its own way, wouldn’t you say?”

You shrugged, still not entirely accustomed to your new title. “I suppose so. But honestly, I haven’t seen nearly as much of the world as I’d like.”

His brows lifted in surprise. “Really? I would’ve thought someone like you—someone with the fire I saw in your eyes when we first met—would have traveled to every corner of Prythian by now.”

A soft laugh escaped your lips, though there was a hint of sadness to it. “That’s the dream, at least. It’s why I accepted this position in the first place. The High Lady of Autumn… she helped me achieve it, even if I wasn’t so sure at first.”

Tarquin’s curiosity piqued as he moved further into the room, taking a seat on the edge of a nearby chair, his eyes never leaving yours. “How so?”

You glanced toward the window, your gaze lost in the deepening hues of the sunset for a moment as you collected your thoughts. “I met her before I even knew who she was. At her coronation, of all places. We started talking, and I told her about my dream—how I wanted to see the courts, to experience everything Prythian has to offer. I thought she was just being polite at the time, listening to some stranger ramble on about an impossible dream.” You chuckled softly at the memory. “But then she offered me the position, said it was the perfect way for me to travel and see the world.”

Tarquin smiled, his eyes softening as he watched you. “Sounds like she saw something in you. Something worth nurturing.”

You shook your head slightly, still a bit overwhelmed by the memory of how quickly your life had changed. “Maybe. It all happened so fast, I wasn’t sure if I should accept it. I’ve always wanted to do this on my own, and part of me felt like taking the offer would mean I didn’t earn it, that it was handed to me.”

Tarquin leaned forward, his gaze steady, thoughtful. “You earned it. And besides, even if it was handed to you, what matters is what you do with it. You’ve already made the decision to be here, to be part of this journey. That’s no small thing.”

His words made you feel lighter, more at ease with your decision. You smiled, meeting his gaze. “You’re right. It’s just… a lot to take in.”

“I can imagine,” Tarquin said, standing from the chair and moving toward the window where the breeze ruffled his silver hair. “But from what I’ve seen of you so far, you’ll do just fine. If anyone can handle the adventure of traveling the courts, it’s you.”

You laughed, the tension in your chest easing. “You barely know me, Tarquin.”

His eyes sparkled as he turned to face you, leaning casually against the windowsill. “I’ve got a good eye for people. Comes with the job, I suppose. And I know someone with a true hunger for life when I see them.”

You smiled at him, feeling a warmth bloom in your chest, not from his flattery, but from the genuine ease he exuded. Tarquin, unlike so many other High Lords, didn’t carry the weight of his power like a burden. Instead, he wore it like a second skin, comfortable and light. His charm wasn’t a weapon but a gift, and you found yourself appreciating his company more than you had expected.

The two of you continued to talk well into the evening, the conversation flowing as naturally as the waves outside. Tarquin regaled you with tales of the Summer Court—its festivals, its politics, its people—and you found yourself laughing more than you had in days. He had a way of making everything feel light, fun, as if the weight of your responsibilities could be cast aside, even if only for a moment.

At one point, he suggested a game of sorts, challenging you to guess which famous Summer Court landmarks you could see from your window, and before long, you were both leaning out the window, pointing out various spots, sharing stories and laughter that echoed into the night.

For the first time since you’d left Autumn, you felt a spark of excitement—not just for what lay ahead, but for the now. For this moment, in this beautiful place, with someone who made you feel truly seen. And as Tarquin smiled at you, his eyes twinkling with warmth and amusement, you found yourself thinking that perhaps this journey might turn out even better than you’d hoped.

The next morning, you walked into the bright, sunlit dining hall of the Summer Court palace, the smell of freshly baked bread and sea salt filling the air. The grand windows overlooked the sparkling turquoise waters of the sea, and for a brief moment, the sight alone lifted your spirits. You spotted Tarquin immediately, already seated at a long, marble table adorned with an impressive spread of tropical fruits, pastries, and delicacies that made your stomach rumble. He grinned broadly when he saw you, waving you over with the casual ease of someone who had known you for years.

"Good morning!" Tarquin greeted, his voice warm and inviting, like the sun itself. "I trust you slept well?"

You smiled, sliding into the seat across from him. "Surprisingly well. Your court really knows how to spoil a guest."

"Only the best for the emissary of the Autumn Court," he winked, offering you a plate of pastries. “I was going to have them bring in some special Summer Court wine, but I figured you’d need your strength after yesterday.”

You laughed, easily falling into the light banter that had started between you the night before. "Very considerate of you. Though I have a feeling you were just looking out for yourself. You wouldn't want me beating you in any of your landmark guessing games."

Tarquin’s laugh was light and contagious, filling the room with warmth as he leaned back in his chair. "Maybe I like a little competition."

Just then, the mood in the room shifted as Lucien entered, his steps clipped, his face set in a grim scowl. The stark contrast between his mood and the easy camaraderie you’d shared with Tarquin hit you instantly. Lucien looked like he’d barely slept, his usual sharp amber gaze clouded with something darker. His jaw was tight, and you could practically feel the stormy tension radiating off him.

“Morning,” Lucien muttered stiffly, barely glancing at either of you as he took his seat next to you, his movements sharp and deliberate. He grabbed a slice of bread, ripping it with more force than necessary.

Tarquin, ever the observant High Lord, raised an amused brow as he took in Lucien’s clear irritation. His lips curved into a subtle smirk, and there was a mischievous glint in his eyes as he spoke. "You're in quite the mood this morning, Lucien. Didn’t sleep well?"

Lucien grunted in response, avoiding eye contact. His focus remained fixed on his plate, but the way he clenched his fork told you all you needed to know about his mood.

You exchanged a glance with Tarquin, trying to suppress your amusement at Lucien’s clear discomfort. Tarquin, however, seemed more than happy to prod.

“I suppose it’s none of my business,” Tarquin began, the tone of his voice too innocent to be genuine. “But it’s curious, really. You’re normally so composed, Lucien. I wonder what your mate would think of this mood of yours?”

The moment the word ‘mate’ left Tarquin’s mouth, you noticed how Lucien’s grip tightened around his fork, his knuckles white. A muscle in his jaw twitched as he kept his gaze locked on his food. The silence that followed was thick, charged, and suddenly your amusement faded, replaced by a sinking feeling in your chest.

Tarquin’s comment echoed in your mind—mate. Lucien’s mate, Elain, the woman you’d overheard him and Tamlin arguing about back in Spring. A woman who, by all accounts, didn’t want him. You’d heard the pain in Lucien’s voice that night, felt the raw hurt in his silence after Tamlin’s cruel words. And now, sitting here beside him, with Tarquin’s teasing and Lucien’s simmering tension, you couldn’t help but be reminded that whatever had been building between you and Lucien—even if it was just a shared sense of companionship—was nothing compared to the bond he shared with another.

The weight of that reality settled over you like a stone.

Lucien didn’t respond to Tarquin’s comment, but the damage was done. The mood at the table shifted, the air suddenly heavy with things unsaid. Tarquin glanced at you with a raised brow, clearly amused by the change, but you found your appetite fading. The easy conversation, the laughter—all of it felt distant now, replaced by a reminder that Lucien, no matter how drawn you might feel to him, wasn’t someone you could afford to get close to.

You forced a smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes as you picked at your plate. Tarquin, ever the master of social dynamics, seemed to sense the shift in your mood and moved the conversation onto lighter topics, though his gaze lingered on Lucien’s tight-lipped silence with a knowing glint. Still, you couldn’t shake the lingering weight of that one word.

Mate.

By the time breakfast was finished, the easy camaraderie from the night before had evaporated, leaving you with the uneasy reminder of boundaries you hadn’t realized you’d already begun to cross. And as you left the dining hall, Lucien walking in tense, brooding silence beside you, you couldn’t help but wonder if Tarquin’s remark had been more than just a tease—if it had been a warning. A reminder of what you couldn’t have.

The awkward silence between the two of you stretched on too long-- so long, in fact, that you were trying desperately to clear your dry throat. You wanted to ease the tension between the two of you, but at times like this, it felt nearly impossible. Nevertheless, you could no longer stand it. “Lucien,” you started softly, your voice hesitant but warm, “want to take a walk with me along the beach? It’s too beautiful of a morning to waste inside.”

Lucien’s amber eyes flicked to yours, his surprise evident for a moment before his face softened, the tension in his brow easing slightly. He nodded once, wordlessly accepting your invitation. Together, you strolled down the shoreline, the breeze tugging at your clothes, the sea whispering in the background.

The soft sound of waves crashing against the shore filled the air as you walked along the edge of the Summer Court’s shimmering beach. The sand beneath your feet was warm, the golden grains shifting with every step. It was a breathtaking morning, the sun hanging low in the sky, casting the sea in hues of pink and gold. You glanced to your side where Lucien walked, his shoulders still tense from breakfast, his expression distant. The breeze ruffled his auburn hair, strands catching the sunlight like fire.

For a while, neither of you spoke, the sound of the ocean filling the silence. You could feel the weight of something unspoken lingering between you two—the ghosts of breakfast and what you’d overheard in the Spring Court lurking in the back of your mind.

Finally, you gathered the courage to break the silence. “Lucien… about what Tarquin said this morning.” You hesitated, searching for the right words, watching the way his shoulders tensed again at the mention of the High Lord. “I didn’t mean to bring up anything uncomfortable, but I overheard you and Tamlin arguing the other night, and I heard her name—Elain.”

At the mention of his mate’s name, Lucien’s face tightened, his steps slowing. He turned to look at you, his gaze guarded, as if unsure of how much to reveal. The air between you grew heavier with each passing second, but there was something in his eyes that told you he was considering it, weighing whether to let you in.

“She’s my mate,” Lucien finally said, his voice quiet, the words heavy with emotion. “But she… she doesn’t feel the bond. At least, not the way I do.”

You swallowed, the ache in his voice twisting something inside you. You’d known there was pain there—had felt it even before hearing his argument with Tamlin—but hearing him admit it so plainly sent a pang of sympathy through you.

Lucien sighed, his gaze drifting out to the sea. “I thought I would be enough. That if I gave her time, if I was patient, maybe… maybe she would come to care for me. But it hasn’t happened. Every time I see her, I can feel the distance, the wall she’s built between us. And I don’t blame her. The bond was forced on her. She didn’t ask for this, and she certainly didn’t ask for me.”

There was a vulnerability in his words, a rawness you hadn’t seen before. It was as if he’d dropped the mask he so often wore, the sly fox that hid his true feelings finally stepping aside. You could see the depth of his hurt, the way it weighed on him, the way it made him question his worth. And in that moment, something shifted between the two of you.

“I can’t imagine how hard that must be,” you said softly, your heart aching for him. “But, Lucien, from what I’ve seen, you care for her deeply. You’ve given her space, and that… that says more about you than anything. You’re not trying to force her to love you. You’re just giving her time to figure out her own feelings.”

He turned to you then, his amber gaze locking onto yours, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. “It doesn’t feel like enough,” he admitted, his voice low. “It feels like I’m just… waiting. And I don’t know how much longer I can do it.”

You wanted to reach out to him, to offer some kind of comfort, but you hesitated. Instead, you chose your words carefully. “Sometimes the hardest thing to do is wait for someone else to figure things out. But that doesn’t mean you’re not worthy of love, Lucien. You deserve someone who sees you, who loves you for who you are—not because of a bond, but because they choose you.”

His gaze softened, and for the first time since you’d met him, Lucien looked at you with something more than polite interest. There was a connection in that moment, an understanding that passed between you two, and it left you feeling both closer to him and more vulnerable than ever.

And that’s when you felt it. A dangerous tug deep inside you, a fluttering in your chest that you hadn’t expected. You realized then, with a suddenness that knocked the air from your lungs, that you were falling for him.

It was terrifying.

Lucien, with his broken heart and his unwavering loyalty to someone else, wasn’t yours to fall for. You were the emissary of the Autumn Court, traveling with him out of duty, not personal desire. He had a mate—someone he was bound to, even if she didn’t return his feelings. And yet, here you were, standing on the shores of the Summer Court, your heart betraying you as it fluttered in your chest.

You swallowed hard, turning your gaze out to the ocean to hide the emotions you knew were creeping onto your face. This was dangerous. Falling for Lucien would only lead to heartbreak. You couldn’t afford to get caught up in whatever this was—whatever this connection between you two might be.

Lucien exhaled deeply beside you, and when he spoke again, his voice was softer, more thoughtful. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this. I guess… I guess I just needed someone to listen. So, thank you.”

You smiled softly, though your heart was still racing. “I’m glad you felt like you could talk to me. And I’ll always be here to listen, Lucien.”

He smiled back at you, a small, grateful smile, and for a moment, everything felt lighter. But as you both turned back toward the palace, the weight of what you’d just realized settled heavily on your shoulders.

You had begun to fall for Lucien Vanserra. And you had no idea what to do about it.

As the sun dipped lower into the horizon, casting the last golden rays over the ocean, you and Lucien made your way back toward the Summer Court palace in silence. The soft sound of waves accompanied your footsteps, and though neither of you spoke, the weight of everything that had passed between you hung heavily in the air.

Lucien walked beside you, his presence warm and solid, yet there was a vulnerability in him now that you hadn’t seen before. His walls had come down, if only for a brief moment, and it made you ache for him—for all the pain he’d been carrying alone. You kept stealing glances at him, at the way his jaw was set, at the tension in his posture, and at the flicker of sadness that seemed to follow him even now.

When you finally reached your door, you turned to face him, your heart thudding in your chest. Lucien hesitated for a moment, his amber gaze lingering on you before he offered a soft, almost weary smile. It didn’t reach his eyes.

"Thank you for the walk," he said quietly, his voice dipping low, soft, like he was afraid to disturb the fragile moment between you.

You smiled back, though it felt bittersweet. “Of course, Lucien. Anytime.”

He looked like he wanted to say more, his mouth parting slightly, but then he closed it again, shaking his head. “I should let you get some rest. It’s been a long day.”

You nodded, feeling an unexpected pang of disappointment at the thought of him leaving. But you didn’t want to push him. Lucien had already opened up to you more than you’d ever expected. “Goodnight, Lucien.”

He stepped closer, and your breath hitched as he gently took your hand, bowing slightly as he brought it to his lips. His touch was warm, sending a soft current through your skin as his lips brushed lightly against the back of your hand. When he looked up at you, there was something in his gaze that made your heart skip a beat—something tender, unspoken.

“Goodnight,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. And then, with one last glance, he turned and walked down the corridor, his figure soon disappearing into the soft shadows of the palace halls.

You stood there for a long moment, your heart racing, watching him until he was out of sight. Then, with a heavy sigh, you pushed open the door to your room and stepped inside.

As you leaned against the door, closing it softly behind you, the ache in your chest deepened. You sank onto the edge of your bed, your hands resting in your lap as you stared blankly at the walls, trying to steady your swirling thoughts.

Lucien Vanserra.

It was foolish, you told yourself. Dangerous, even. He wasn’t yours to fall for. He had a mate—someone the universe had chosen for him, someone who, despite it all, still held a piece of his heart.

Elain.

You couldn’t stop the bitterness that crept in at the thought of her. Elain, the one who was supposed to be everything to him, the one he longed for, even though she didn’t seem to want him in return. How could she overlook someone like Lucien? How could she not see what you were starting to see—the depth of his loyalty, his strength, his kindness hidden beneath the sharp edges?

A flicker of anger ignited in your chest. It wasn’t fair. Not to Lucien, not to you. Elain had been given a gift—a bond with someone like Lucien—and yet she kept him at arm’s length, leaving him to suffer alone. And here you were, falling for him, feeling more for him in these few short days than Elain had shown in all this time.

You hated her for it—for the way she could cast him aside, for the way she made him feel unwanted, unloved. You hated the way she made him question himself, made him feel like he wasn’t enough when he was more than enough.

But that hate didn’t change the reality of the situation. Elain was still his mate, and no matter how much you felt for him, no matter how much you wanted to take away his pain, that bond remained. You would always be the outsider, the one who wasn’t supposed to fall for him, the one who could never have him.

With a heavy sigh, you pulled back the covers of the bed and slipped beneath them, the ache in your chest growing stronger. As you closed your eyes, exhaustion creeping over you, the weight of everything—of Lucien, of Elain, of this impossible situation—pressed down on you.

But even as sleep pulled you under, one thought remained, clear and undeniable.

You were falling for Lucien. And there was nothing you could do to stop it.

The next morning greeted you with the warmth of the Summer Court’s sun spilling into your room, the golden light seeping through the sheer curtains and kissing your skin like a gentle promise. You stretched beneath the soft linens, your heart lighter than it had been in days. After a night filled with restless dreams of Lucien’s smile, of the look in his eyes when he spoke of Elain, the ache in your chest hadn’t completely vanished—but the anticipation bubbling within you for the day ahead managed to soothe it, even if only for a little while.

You dressed quickly, excitement rushing through your veins as the thought of exploring this beautiful court—the court you’d dreamed of seeing—propelled you forward. The day was waiting for you, filled with possibilities you had never dared to hope for. After a quick breakfast, you met Lucien and Anna in the palace’s grand courtyard, the bright morning sun casting long shadows over the cobblestone paths lined with lush greenery and delicate blossoms that seemed to sway in time with the breeze.

Lucien was already waiting for you, leaning casually against a marble pillar, his auburn hair catching the light like copper set aflame. His amber eyes softened as they landed on you, a faint, teasing smile tugging at his lips as you approached.

"Ready for today?" he asked, his voice a low hum, the warmth of it sending a flutter through your chest.

You nodded, heart racing for reasons you couldn’t quite place, your gaze briefly flicking to Anna, who stood beside Lucien with a radiant smile. Her easygoing demeanor mirrored the court itself—bright, open, welcoming. “More than ready,” you said, trying to focus on the excitement bubbling within you rather than the way Lucien’s presence seemed to settle something deep inside you.

"Then let’s get started," Anna chimed in, gesturing toward the path leading from the palace into the heart of the city. Her sun-kissed skin glowed beneath the morning light, and her laughter was contagious as she led the way, her enthusiasm making it impossible not to feel excited for what was to come.

The moment you stepped beyond the gates of the palace, you were struck by the sheer beauty of the Summer Court. The streets were alive with color and movement—white-washed buildings lined the cobblestone paths, their blue-tiled roofs glistening in the sunlight. Bright awnings shaded the numerous market stalls that spilled out into the streets, the vibrant fabrics rippling in the breeze, each one more vibrant than the last. The air was filled with the scent of saltwater and citrus, mingling with the sweet aroma of tropical flowers that grew in wild abundance along the pathways.

Merchants called out from their stalls, their voices cheerful and melodic as they displayed wares you could only have dreamed of—delicate glasswork in brilliant hues, fabrics so fine they seemed to shimmer in the light, jewelry that sparkled like stars. Everywhere you looked, there was life—children darted between the crowds, their laughter rising like music over the hum of conversation. You felt a pang of wonder deep within you, as though you had stepped into a world spun from pure magic.

“I can’t believe this is real,” you whispered, your gaze sweeping over the bustling streets, the gleaming rooftops, the sprawling ocean that sparkled just beyond the edge of the town. The water was a deep, endless blue, stretching out toward the horizon, the sunlight glinting off its surface like scattered diamonds.

Lucien chuckled softly beside you, his voice warm and amused. “The Summer Court does have a way of making the impossible feel possible.”

You glanced up at him, catching the way his eyes seemed to glow in the sunlight, softer now than they had been before. There was something different about him today—less guarded, more at ease. The tension that had been gnawing at him for days seemed to have eased, if only slightly.

“Thank you for this,” you said quietly, sincerity in your voice. “I’ve wanted to see the Summer Court for as long as I can remember.”

His amber gaze held yours for a long moment, something unspoken passing between you. “I’m glad you’re here,” he said, his voice low, almost hesitant. “I think… I needed this too.”

A flush of warmth spread through you at his words, but before you could respond, Anna appeared beside you, her arms full of bright, exotic fruits she had just bartered for at one of the stalls.

“Try this!” she urged, handing you a piece of fruit the color of a setting sun, its skin smooth and cool beneath your fingers. “You can’t leave the Summer Court without tasting this—it’s one of our best-kept secrets.”

You took a cautious bite, your eyes widening as the sweet, tangy flavor burst across your tongue. It was like nothing you had ever tasted before—bright and fresh, as if it had captured the very essence of the Summer Court itself. Anna grinned at your expression, clearly pleased with your reaction.

“You’re right,” you laughed, wiping juice from your chin, “I can’t leave without eating more of these.”

Lucien’s low chuckle joined yours, the sound rumbling from deep within his chest. The three of you continued on, visiting more shops, more stalls, more hidden corners of the Summer Court that Anna eagerly shared with you. Everywhere you went, there was something new to marvel at—beautiful seashell jewelry, hand-carved figurines, dazzling glass orbs that captured the light in such a way that they seemed to hold miniature suns within them.

With each passing hour, you found yourself growing more and more comfortable in Lucien’s presence. What had once been a tense, delicate connection between you now began to deepen into something more solid, more real. You shared quiet moments between the bustling excitement—stolen glances, soft words, laughter that bubbled up from within you as easily as the sunlight fell across your skin.

At one point, as the three of you stood on the edge of a cliff overlooking the ocean, Lucien leaned closer, his voice low enough that only you could hear. “You look happy today,” he said softly, his gaze sweeping over your face. “It suits you.”

The words sent a jolt of warmth through you, and for a brief, dangerous moment, you allowed yourself to imagine what it would be like if things were different. If he wasn’t bound to someone else. If you didn’t feel that constant ache in your chest whenever you thought of her.

But the moment passed as quickly as it had come, and you forced yourself to focus on the beauty of the day, on the warmth of the sun and the laughter that filled the air. You weren’t ready to let go of this—this feeling of closeness, of connection, even if it was temporary.

By the time the sun began to set, casting the sky in shades of pink and gold, you found yourself standing with Lucien and Anna at the edge of a lookout point, the vast expanse of the ocean stretching out before you, sparkling like liquid gold beneath the fading light. The three of you stood in comfortable silence, the beauty of the moment washing over you, and for the first time in a long while, you felt at peace.

But even as the joy of the day lingered in your heart, you couldn’t shake the growing realization that you were falling for Lucien. Hard. And that was a dangerous thing.

Because no matter how close you grew, no matter how much you cared for him, he would never be yours.

TAGLIATELLE

@littlest-w01f @rcarbo1 @mirandasidefics @thelov3lybookworm @lilah-asteria @megscabinetofcurios @thecraziestcrayon

[idrawfunkythings]

DCAtober Day 20: Trapped

Words: 2,000+ Summary: The daycare is on fire, and you don't know where the attendant is

The daycare is already being consumed by the fire when you get there.

You’d held out some semblance of hope that maybe it would have been protected by the many doors between it and the basement. That since it was basically a fortress, it would stay unharmed, at least long enough for you to run in, grab Sun, and run out.

Instead, you’re greeted with a roaring fire, already eating away at the netting around the soft play area. The stars that Moon had hung from the roof in party room hallway have dropped onto the charred carpet, piles of star shaped ash blocked by the rapidly approaching flames. One of the jungle gyms, the one furthest from you, has already been crushed by one the beams holding the nets up from the roof.

“Sun!” You shout. “Where are you?”

There is no response.

Going down the steps and through the door was a bust. If you had to guess, you’d say the fire had breached the daycare through the door in Kids Cove, the only part connected to the atrium. Luckily, the slide was still intact. You just had to hope it would remain that way long enough for you to get in and out again.

The lights flicker, and then go out, leaving you with no light but the torch at your belt, and, well, the fire. It must have eaten away at the power switches below, cutting off any power that would have been diverted to the daycare.

You grab your flashlight and switch it on, sweeping the beam around to regain your bearings. The slide remains unscathed, the bright letters beckoning you to slide into fun.

You’d seen this slide so many times before. Never like this.

Before you can second guess yourself, you jump down the yellow tunnel and land on your feet in the ballpit, scrambling out as part of the metal grid on the ceiling crashes down at the other end, where the castles are, and allow the flames to creep into the “river”.

Some parts of the soft play area have been set alight as the fire finished with the netting, and has jumped onto the plush matted floor. The security desk is already a husk, with frayed wires sparking dangerously bright, still active thanks to the generator below the desk.

You couldn’t focus on that right now. “Sun!” you yell, your hands cupped around your mouth. “Moon! Are either of you here?”

There’s no response yet again. Another part of the roof drops, thankfully near the party rooms and not down where you are. “SUN!”

It’s hard to hear anything over the crackling of the fire, but you swear that just for a moment you hear a quiet groan coming from the collapsed play structure. Parts of it are covered in orange flames, but one corner remains intact, one with a yellow tube the kids liked to hide in for hide and seek.

You sprint over, doing your best to ignore the fact the other outer structure is creaking and moaning as the supports start to dribble onto the ground. You reach the tube as it crashes to the ground, the reverberation making you trip and fall over one of the round tubs that Sun liked to stack.

The other tubes have been knocked over, which does not help your state at all, because it meant Sun hadn’t stacked it up before you came.

You stumble over to the structure, scouring it desperately, and would breathe a sigh of relief when you catch sight of Moon’s hat on the floor if not for the fact that he’s pinned to said floor with a metal beam.

The beam is resting across his chest, crushing one arm below it while the other lies lifeless beside him. He’s scrabbling with his legs, trying to slip out from below it, but finding no purchase. Despite their immense strength, he’s unable to lift it.

“Moon!” you begin to pull the play structure away, thanking the lord that corporate was cheap enough to build it with metal poles light enough for you to chuck them away without too much effort. He looks up at you, red pupils finding yours.

“It’s past your bedtime,” he cackles, glitching halfway through the sentence and spasming.

“Shut up,” you command, continuing with your excavation job until you have enough space to focus on how you’re gonna get the beam off of Moon.

“Rulebreaker.”

“Is that seriously your biggest concern right now?” Something crashes behind you. You don’t look to see what.

Moon, despite whatever the hell is wrong with him, seems to acknowledge you’re right, and shuts up.

You grunt as you push against the beam, straining under the weight, but it barely moves an inch. You kick it in frustration, swearing and hopping on one foot after feeling the effect on your toes.

Moon follows you with his eyes. “What?” you say aggressively, returning to your attempt to get the beam off.

“Go.”

“No.” You continue your efforts.

“Go, now.” Moon looks at the fire that is much closer to you than it was before. Despite the mats in the daycare being coated in fire resistant covers, they can’t hold out forever. “Not safe in here.”

“What about you two, dumbass?” You use the floor as leverage to press your back against the beam, groaning with effort.

“Go.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

“You will die.” The fire is getting closer. It’s lighting up Moon’s face.

“So will you.”

“Not like you will.” Moon fixes his gaze on you. “You will die in agony.”

“Can you shut up and help me get this beam off?”

“Can’t.” You look at his lifeless arm. “Connection severed.” Your back is starting to sweat.

“What if I restore it?”

“Takes too long. Go.” Part of the ceiling collapses to your left.

“No.” You switch positions so your on his other side, sorting through the ripped wires and sockets poking out of his shoulder joint. It’s getting too bright for your comfort. The smoke is beginning to make you cough.

“Pointless. Leave us.”

“I’m not.” You say through gritted teeth as you begin to twist wires together. “Leaving you.” You cough, choking on the embers. Your face is getting hot. The metal is starting to warm to your touch. You can hear Moon’s fans despite the noise of the fire, attempting to cool his body down.

“Stupid.”

You ignore him, plugging rubber coated wires back into his shoulder joints, and using the tape that’s patching up the play mats to hold it in place. Once again, thank god for Fazbear being cheap. If they had fixed the mats while the daycare was out of order, you’d be screwed.

Moon’s finger twitches. Your brow beads with sweat. You tape up a few bare wires, knowing they won’t hold for long, but what other option do you have. His pinky moves. His elbow bends and unbends. Your skin is getting uncomfortably hot.

There’s still a few wires without partners, but the press of your palm to the metal beam tells you there’s not enough time to figure out where they go. You jam Moon’s arm into the socket and lock it in place, securing it with the last of the shitty tape.

“Moon-”

It’s not Moon anymore. It’s Sun. The fire is so close that it’s not dark enough for Moon to stay out anymore, which may have made the situation worse, because now you’re going to have to find a way to get them out and calm him down at the same time.

“Oh, my goodness!” Sun cries, wriggling as he takes stock of the situation. “We really are stuck? I thought… But… oh Moony!”

“Sun!” You have to yell for him to hear you, but the effect is instant. He locks onto you like you’re a raft, and he’s a drowning man, which you guess is the right reaction in this moment.

“Please! Please get us out! Please, friend!”

“I know, I know, Sunny.” You point to his shittily repaired arm. “I need you to help me get this off.”

“Yes! Yes, I can do that.” Sun tests the arm out, using some of the precious time you have quickly ticking away to get it to operate under his control. The heat has gone from uncomfortable to unbearable, making your skin ache and sting.

“I’m going to lift it now,” you say, reminding him that, hey, you really have to go like right now. Sun nods firmly and begins to lift the beam, while you do your best to help.

The arm strains, and you swear you can hear a wire or two rip again (because Sun falters slightly when that happens). More parts of the roof begin to rain around you, falling on the fire and biding you precious time as the flames have to consume the metal to continue to advance.

Somehow, you’ve both managed to lift the beam enough for Sun’s other arm to slip out and be freed. It’s definitely seen better days, but the wiring isn’t exposed, and he can move it somewhat well, so he enlists it to aid you in the mission. Part of the outer casing is slightly melted, as is one side of his faceplate, but it’s working. Your hair is singing, and his rays are retracted into his head to stop them from being set alight as fire dances dangerously close.

With the extra strength, Sun grunts and shoves it off of his body, letting it clang onto the ground. You pull him up instantly, jumping away from the flames and retreating to the center of the daycare.

Okay. Okay, one step in your absolutely shit plan was done. What now?

Sun is staring wide eyed at the daycare. There is no resemblance between this room and what it once was. The playplaces are collapsed, the walls and party rooms and blackened with ash and scorched, and the netting has come crashing down like a spider web of fire.

“Friend,” he says softly, and you have to strain to hear it over the roaring and your thoughts. “Why are you here?”

“For you,” you respond, searching for any escape you could take. He places a shaking hand on your shoulder.

“You could die,” he gets out, horror evident on his face as he realises what situation you’ve put yourself in.

“Is there still a tunnel in the theatre?”

“Friend!” Sun grabs your arms with two hands, squeezing you much harder than a robot with two barely functioning arms should be able to. “You have put yourself in direct danger! You may die! You shouldn’t have come here!”

“You two were in here!” You shoot back angrily, still looking around the playmats of you. “I wasn’t going to leave you!”

“We’re robots. We won’t respond the same as you do to fire.”

“You’d have died, Sun!” You shout, finally looking at him. “Stop saying ‘robots’ like your life means less than mine! I wasn’t going to leave the two of you to become melted endos!”

“YOU SHOULD HAVE STAYED OUTSIDE!”

“I’m not dealing with this right now!” You counter, pointing to a gap in the flames where they’ve burnt themselves out. “Look! We have to get to the theatre.”

Sun is standing in the middle of the daycare, wide white eyes staring blankly out into space. He seems to be at a lost. “I… I can’t find my fire protocols.”

“What?”

“The fire protocols. They have the escape routes listed. I can’t…”

“Then we’ll figure it out!” You grab his arm. “Come on, Sun, we have to go!”

He looks around him again, an utterly hopeless expression on his face. “I don’t…”

“Sun!”

He takes your hand and leads the way through the fire, walking like he’s in a daze. His pants catch alight at one point, and you have to smack it out with a charred piece of playmat. He doesn’t say anything as you fight through the fire, and maybe later, you’d wonder why.

For now, the daycare is on fire, and you still need to find a way out.

[madebycloud]

Cozy

jenna ortega x reader — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

summary: rainy morning breakfast with your girlfriend (requested by anon) warnings/themes: fluff, rainy morning, breakfast err words: 0.6k

The rain's been lashing the windows all night. You roll over in the cozy little cove you've created with the blankets and pillows around you. The early morning chill is too strong for the warmth of your bed.

Suddenly, you receive a notification on your phone. You slide from the warmth of your bed and move over to the bedside table, picking up your phone and checking the notifications.

Nothing but spam and promotional messages. You sigh, returning the phone to the nightstand.

You sat up, stretching your arms and scratching your hair. You took your time to wake up, feeling the laziness seep into your bones. The idea of getting up made you want to just crawl back under the blankets.

The woman next to you is still sleeping. You reach out and wrap your arm around her waist, pulling her close to you and placing a string of kisses across her shoulder.

She mumbles something you can't quiet hear, but her body shifts underneath your touch, and she rolls over to face you. Her eyes are half-closed, but her smile is bright as she touches your cheek and pulls you in for a long, lingering kiss. 

“Morning,” you mumble once the lips finally part. She giggles before laying her head against your neck.

“What time is it?” she asks, her voice still raspy.

“I dunno, 7 something...?” you reply, unsure of the actual hour but confident enough that it's early morning.

You give her a quick kiss on the cheek before getting up to start your daily routine. You washed your face, brushed your teeth, and dressed in comfortable, warm clothing.

When you were done, you found her still in bed, her body curled up like a cat behind the cozy sheets.

You head to the kitchen to prepare breakfast, determined to make something special today. You start the coffee maker and read through the many recipes on your phone, hoping to find one that's quick, easy, and delicious enough to satisfy both your cravings and your taste buds.

Then you see it: those fluffy, mouth watering pancakes with sliced strawberries and maple syrup. It's like they were made for you and your taste buds.

“Ahh, that's the one”, you tell yourself, grabbing the ingredients in a flash to start cooking. Your fingers move fast and effectively as you beat up the batter, and before you know it, you've had a flawlessly golden, fluffy batch of pancakes created precisely the way you want them.

While your cakes are cooking, hands wrap around you from behind, and you turn to see your girlfriend.

“That smells delicious,” she says to you, her eyes focused on the cooking pancakes. You kiss her lips gently before turning back to the pancakes.

“Trust me, babe, you're about to partake in a culinary masterpiece crafted by none other than the 5-star chef.”

“Sorry to disturb the master chef,” she says, before she sits down at the counter, resting her legs in a cross and tilting her head to watch you cook. “What are you cooking?”

“Obviously, a five-star meal.”

Finally, the pancakes are done, and they are served on a dish with some additional maple syrup on top, as if you were an actual 5-star chef. Breakfast in hand, you set it down on the small table. Jenna follows you and sits down on the couch next to you, resting her head on your shoulder.

You sip from your coffee, tuning into the local news broadcast on TV. They're reporting the weather, which is rainy outside. You take a mouthful of the crisp, syrup-coated pancake—the sweetness of the strawberries and the richness of the syrup complement each other perfectly, and it's the perfect way to start your day. 

With a smile on your face and the pleasure of a job well done, you lean in to kiss her.

It's going to be another one of those days where you have too much stuff to do and not enough time to do it all. Eh, at least you can count on your amazing morning kisses to make it worth it.

[hoonven]

Beautiful Creatures | Preview

❝We’re all beautiful creatures of the night, vampires and witches.❞

PAIRING! vampire!kim seonwoo x witch!female reader

GENRES! fluff, angst, vampire au, witch au, kinda strangers to lovers, second chance romance?, a sprinkle of forbidden love, reincarnation au

WORD COUNT! almost 3k

WARNINGS! mc is an orphan, physical violence, prejudiced behaviors from the town’s people, death, suicide? (this will make sense later), i think that’s it? lmk if i missed anything

SYNOPSIS! in the gloomy town of Eldritch Cove, a coven of witches resides deep in the marsh, never to make contact with outsiders, it's safer this way. But when a mysterious young man passes through town everything changes

AUTHOR’S NOTE! hi! please note that every setting and character in the story is of my own creation therefore i have copyright so please do not steal my ideas and claim them as your own! hope you enjoy the preview for my upcoming fic!

The fog clung low to the ground, swirling around your ankles as you moved carefully through the marsh, your basket half-filled with herbs. The air was heavy with the scent of wet earth and the distant hum of cicadas. The marsh was a place of silence and secrets, where even the wind dared not whisper too loudly.

Beside you, Winnifred, with her wild, curly red hair, bounded through the mist like a fox on the hunt, her bright green eyes gleaming with curiosity. She was the youngest in the coven, her energy and playfulness a stark contrast to your more cautious demeanor.

“Winnie, slow down. You’ll scare off the moonwort,” you called softly, your gaze scanning the ground for the pale silver leaves of the plant you and her sought.

Winnifred stopped mid-step, a mischievous smile spreading across her freckled face. “It’s not going anywhere, Y/N! The moonwort isn’t afraid of me. Look, I’ve already found some!” She darted forward, pulling up a clump of the shimmering herb with a triumphant grin, holding it up for you to see.

You sighed, though a smile tugged at the corners of your lips. “You’re lucky Mother isn’t here to see you uprooting the plants like that.”

Winnifred rolled her eyes. “Mother always says to respect the marsh, but I swear, sometimes I think it respects me more than I respect it.” She winked, dropping the moonwort into your basket.

As you reached down to gather your own handful, a sudden chill ran up your spine, the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end. The marsh grew eerily still, and the familiar sounds of insects and croaking frogs faded into silence. Something was different.

“Winnie,” you said, your voice barely a whisper. “Do you feel that?”

Winnifred straightened, her playful expression faltering as she glanced around. “Feel what?”

You couldn’t quite explain it, but the marsh—the very air around you—felt charged, like a storm about to break. There was a presence, something close, something ancient. Your heart quickened, though you didn’t know why.

Without a word, you rose to your feet, your eyes scanning the fog. Then, through the thick mist, you saw it: a figure standing at the edge of the marsh, half-hidden by the shadows of the trees. He stood unnaturally still, too still, like a predator waiting for its prey.

Winnifred saw him too. “Who’s that?” she whispered, her tone no longer playful.

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the man—tall, but not too tall, and draped in black clothing that seemed to blend into the surrounding mist. His hair was dark, his face pale against the shadowy backdrop. But it was his eyes—sharp, deep, and old, far older than the body they belonged to—that caught your breath. They were fixed on you, as though he had been waiting for this very moment.

Your heart pounded in your chest, a strange mix of fear and…something else. A flicker of recognition, though you had never seen him before in your life.

“Come on, let’s go,” Winnifred urged, tugging at your sleeve. “He’s giving me the creeps.”

You didn’t move, your gaze locked with his. Something in those eyes tugged at the edges of your memory, a sensation you couldn’t explain. The air between you felt electric, like the space itself was charged with something ancient, something that had always been there but just now revealed itself.

The man took a step forward, and you instinctively stepped back, your breath catching.

“Who are you?” you asked, your voice steadier than you felt.

For a moment, the man said nothing, his lips curving into the faintest hint of a smile, as though your question amused him. “I could ask you the same,” he replied, his voice mellifluous, smooth, and strangely familiar, like the echo of a dream you couldn’t quite place.

You frowned, confused. There was something unsettling in his presence, but there was also an undeniable pull, like a thread that connected you to him, a thread you didn’t know existed until now.

“I’m Y/N,” you said, unsure why you were compelled to answer at all.

“Y/N…” The way he said your name sent a shiver down your spine, as though he had spoken it a thousand times before. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“Again?” your confusion deepened. You had never seen him before in your life, and yet…there was that flicker of recognition, as though a part of you knew him, a part buried deep within you, hidden beneath layers of forgotten memories.

“Who are you?” you asked again, more insistent this time.

The man’s smile faded, replaced by something softer, almost melancholic. He stepped closer, his dark eyes never leaving yours. “I’ve been searching for you.”

Winnifred stepped in front of you, her red hair flaming in the dim light. “You need to stay back,” she warned, though her voice trembled. “We’re not afraid of you.”

The man’s gaze flicked briefly to Winnifred, then back to you, almost as if he hadn’t heard the younger witch’s warning. “I mean you no harm,” he said softly. “But we need to talk… do you—”

Your mind raced. Who was this stranger, and why did he speak to you as if you had known each other for lifetimes? The strange connection, the way your heart seemed to leap into your throat at the sight of him—none of it made sense.

But before you could ask another question, Winnifred grabbed your arm, pulling you back. “Y/N, let’s go. Now.”

The fog seemed to thicken as the tension in the air grew. You hesitated for a moment longer, staring into the man’s eyes. There was a sadness there, a longing that felt as old as the marsh itself, but something in you told you to trust your sister’s instincts. This was too much, too strange.

Without another word, you allowed Winnifred to pull you away, your heart pounding as you retreated into the mist. But even as you fled, you could still feel the man’s gaze on you, lingering like a shadow.

And somewhere deep within you, a memory stirred—faint, fleeting, but unmistakable.

As you and Winifred disappeared into the safety of the trees, the man remained still, his eyes fixed on the place where you had stood. He could feel it—the stirring of your power, the faintest glimmer of recognition in your eyes.

You didn’t remember him. Not yet.

But you would.

Soon.

The mist began to lift slightly as you and Winnifred made your way back through the winding paths of the marsh. The air was still heavy with moisture, and the twilight sky was slowly darkening, casting long shadows between the trees. Winnifred walked ahead, her pace faster than usual, her usually playful nature subdued as she kept glancing back at you.

You, for your part, were quiet, still shaken by the encounter but not afraid—more curious, unsettled by the strange man and the unexplainable pull you’d felt in his presence. You couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something familiar about him, though you didn't know what.

“Who do you think he was?” Winnifred asked, breaking the silence. Her voice was softer now, laced with worry. “He didn’t seem like just a normal person. Not from around here, that’s for sure.”

You shook your head, your brows furrowed. “I don’t know, Winnie. He wasn’t like anyone I’ve met before. There was something different about him.”

Winnifred chewed her lip thoughtfully, slowing her pace so she could walk beside you. “Different how?”

You hesitated, struggling to put your feelings into words. “He felt… familiar, but not in a way I can explain. Like I should know him, but I don’t.”

“Maybe he’s from another coven and he’s just passing through town?” Winnifred suggested, her eyes bright with curiosity.

“Maybe,” you murmured, but you didn’t believe that. There was something far older, far deeper in the way he had looked at you. Not just like someone passing through, but someone who had been searching for you.

Winnifred frowned, casting a sidelong glance at you. “He didn’t scare you, did he?”

You shook your head. “No, not really. But we don’t know him, and that makes him dangerous enough.” you didn’t want to admit how calm you had felt around the stranger, even as your instincts had warned you to stay away.

By the time you reached the large wooden cabin nestled deep within the marsh, the sun had dipped below the horizon. The soft glow of lanterns illuminated the windows, and the scent of sage and rosemary drifted from the porch, where dried herbs hung in bundles.

Winnifred opened the door first, her tension easing slightly as the familiar warmth of the home welcomed you both in. The sound of quiet conversation drifted from the kitchen, where your other sisters were likely preparing dinner, but it was Mother who stood in the hallway, her tall frame draped in a dark cloak as though she had been waiting for you.

Mother’s sharp eyes instantly fell on you two girls, her lips curving into a small, knowing smile. “You’re late,” she said, her voice calm but always carrying an undercurrent of authority. “I trust you found what you were looking for.”

“We did,” you answered, holding up your basket of herbs.

But Winnifred, ever eager to share news, didn’t wait another moment. “Mother, we saw someone in the marsh! A man! He was just standing there, staring at Y/N! He was strange! He had these dark clothes, and these weird eyes, and—”

The moment Winnifred said it, Mother’s smile faltered, her expression tightening as she fixed her gaze on you. “A man?” she repeated, her voice strained. “Where?”

“In the deeper part of the marsh,” you said cautiously. “Near the black pool. He didn’t try to harm us, but—”

Mother stepped forward, cutting you off with a sharp look. “And what did he look like, exactly?” Her voice, though controlled, had an edge to it that sent a cold shiver down your spine.

Winnifred, oblivious to the shift in mood, eagerly described him. “Average height, dark hair, pale skin. He was wearing black, and his eyes were kind of… intense. He looked like he knew Y/N, or something.”

At this, Mother’s expression grew even more severe. She stared hard at you, as though searching your face for some hidden truth. “And you didn’t recognize him?”

You shook your head, your stomach tightening. “No. But there was something strange about him. It didn’t feel like the first time I’d seen him, but I don’t know why.”

Mother’s lips thinned, and for a moment, you thought you saw fear flicker in her eyes—a rare and unsettling sight. But just as quickly as it appeared, Mother’s face smoothed into an unreadable mask. She turned away, busying herself with adjusting the herbs hanging by the doorway.

“I don’t like strangers wandering around the marsh,” Mother said, her voice clipped. “Especially not near the black pool. It’s a dangerous place.”

You narrowed your eyes slightly. “Mother, is something wrong? You’ve always said the marsh belongs to us. Why would anyone else be here?”

Mother turned to face you again, her expression unreadable. “The marsh is our home, yes, but it draws many things—creatures, spirits, people—things we can’t always control. You should be more careful. This man could be dangerous. We don’t know who he is, or what he wants.”

“But he didn’t feel dangerous,” you pressed, your instincts telling you there was more to this than Mother was letting on. “You seem upset.”

“I don’t like strangers here,” Mother repeated firmly, her voice closing off the conversation. She stepped forward, placing her hands on your shoulders, her touch firm but comforting. “Promise me you’ll stay away from him if you see him again. I don’t care who he is, or what he says. He doesn’t belong here.”

You searched your mother’s face, but all you saw was a hard resolve and a trace of something else—fear, or maybe something deeper. You nodded slowly, though you didn’t believe for a second that Mother was telling you the full truth. “I’ll be careful.”

“Good,” Mother said, releasing you and turning away. “Now, both of you get cleaned up for dinner.”

As Mother disappeared down the hallway, Winnifred leaned closer to you, her voice low. “That was weird, right? She seemed really upset.”

“Yeah,” you whispered back, your mind racing. “She’s hiding something. I don’t know what, but she knows more about that man than she’s letting on.”

Winnifred’s wide eyes were full of curiosity. “Do you think she’s met him before?”

You shook your head, but doubt gnawed at you. “I don’t know. But I intend to find out.”

As you made your way to the kitchen to join your sisters, you couldn’t shake the feeling that the encounter in the marsh was only the beginning of something much bigger. And whoever that man was, he had stirred something within you—something that even Mother couldn’t protect you from.

You had to know the truth.

© 2024 hoonven, all rights reserved. i do not give permission to modify, repost, translate, or plagiarize my works on any platform

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Renata Rivera Madrigal Headcanons;

Her full name is Renata Imelda Rivera Madrigal. 

She is 5 years old by d3.

She is the youngest child of Miguel Rivera and Mirabel Madrigal.

She was not planned but Mirabel and Miguel knew she was coming (though didn't expect it to be so soon after Vera was born) because of a vision Bruno had about Marcelo. They only realized she wasn't Vera’s friend because they noticed she had the same ears and teeth as Vera, and a similar face shape to Miguel.

Renata has the gift of X-ray vision and she absolutely loathes her gift because it terrifies her. 

She used to love skeletons before she got her gift and now she hates them because she can’t stop seeing them when she’s not wearing her special glasses, and she just wants them to go away. 

Because of this, Renata usually hides in her room and refuses to leave it unless she is absolutely required to do so. 

Her family is obviously concerned about this but aren't sure how to fix it since it feels like forcing her out of the room (like was done with Dolores) will only make things worse. 

She REALLY hates skeletons and anything even vaguely skeleton looking.

Her birthday is November 8th, making her a Scorpio. 

Renata is short with slightly curly reddish brown hair that stops just below her ears, skin a bit darker than her mother and father’s, big ears, buckteeth, and big brown eyes that are usually hidden behind thick, dense glasses.

Pink is her favorite color, hands down. She would wear all pink if she could. 

She's a student at the Encanto’s only public school.

She doesn't want to go to Auradon Prep or any school outside of the Encanto because that means being away from the safety of her room. 

When Renata grows up she wants to either be a seamstress or a shoe cobbler. She'd also settle for being a fashion designer.

She is very close to her father, Miguel’s, side of the family.

Wants to be just like her Abuela Luisa. 

Her favorite Abuelo is Enrique, her favorite Abuela is Luisa, and her favorite aunt is Luisa. She also adores Camilo. 

Out of her siblings, she tends to favor Vera (who’s close in age to her) and Mariana (who she looks up to). 

The cousins she's closest to are Giovanni, Dayana, Elmira, and Amada. 

She thinks boys are gross and that they have cooties. 

Renata is friends with Lena Cove, Karina Collodi-Rossi-Liddell, Christina Bones, Fabian Collodi-Rossi-Liddell, Samantha Cove, and Blue Veronica Rossi. 

The five year old has been described as eager, excitable, playful, imaginative, kind but cranky, cheeky, creative, bright, and charming.

She's also been described as a dreamer. 

Renata is very grateful, patient, crafty, and dedicated for her age.

After getting her gift she's been anxious, fearful, and resentful.

Renata trusts her family and close friends wholeheartedly but she struggles to trust others outside of those groups. 

Something that has gotten her in a lot of trouble at school. 

Renata at this point in time would not be sad to lose her gift and would actually probably thank whoever took it away from her. 

Loves dresses and skirts and bows, and thinks skorts are the best thing ever invented. 

Renata is a mama's girl. 

Mirabel is teaching her how to sew and do embroidery. 

Renata loves taking part in dress up games and tea parties—and she also loves to play house and other games like it. 

Camilo once caught her scolding Giovanni like Mirabel during one of these games of house and laughed so hard he passed out. 

She also likes to draw the dresses and shoes she hopes to make one day. 

Covers her ears when she lies because José told her that her ears turn red when she lies. He told her this when she was three and she still believes him. 

Somehow, she hasn't connected this as the reason no one believes her when she's lying. José still laughs his ass whenever she does it. 

Blue Veronica based one of the characters in her comic on Renata. Christina made a character based on her too that she plans to have as a main character in one of her games.

Renata loves acting in her friend, Christina Bones, and in her cousin-in-law, Théotime,’s films. 

Renata also likes playing fútbol with her friend Samantha Cove and if Samantha needs a person in one of her photos, Renata happily volunteers. 

Renata loves dolls, mannequins, squishy toys, and stuffed animals but dolls and mannequins are definitely her favorite, and she gets them as gifts a lot—especially after her ceremony.

Despite Renata’s patience, she can be quite easy to anger. Because of this she tends to get along with Pepa quite well.

She has met cupid (not Eros) and doesn't like him. 

However her ‘imaginary’ friend is the Easter Bunny (Picture Bunnymund from Rise of the Guardians) and the two of them are besties. 

Renata’s top six (seven?) favorite holidays are: Halloween, Christmas, Easter, Ancestry Day, Valentine's Day, and Día de los Muertos.

Loves hearts (the shape anyway) and easter eggs. 

Her favorite animals are dogs but she also likes butterflies.

She has an animation companion named ‘Lyric’. It's a Xoloitzcuintli dog. She found her by herself and Miguel cried when he saw Lyric for the first time because she looks exactly like Dante. 

She has a crazy sweet tooth and will eat anything that is even remotely sweet. She likes spicy sweets/snacks too. Can't stand salty or sour food though. 

Renata is terrified of bugs and spiders and worms,  and because of this she avoids Marisol's room like the plague.

Renata also finds Isabela really scary because of her more…wild…creations. Though she isn't too open about this.

She is an angry crier. 

Her favorite business to visit in Auradon is ‘Snow White's Snack Shack’. She likes their midnight foods especially, though she's rarely allowed there. 

Renata finds plays boring and doesn't like going to them. 

Renata also doesn't like reading. She does love watching TV and playing video games though. 

And she is more than willing to listen to scary stories despite knowing they’ll give her nightmares.

Her favorite video game is Go-Go Ballroom Dancing. She's not very good at it though.

Her favorite shows are My Fair Lady and Get Down With The Ballgown. 

She listens to the Auradon Bedtime Podcast and her parents' bedtime stories to fall asleep. 

Her favorite candy is dwarf gems. She doesn't like chocolate. 

Carina Potts helped plan one of her parties as a favor to Cesare Madrigal, a friend of hers and one of Renata's oldest cousins. 

Her favorite foods are pizza and Golden Chicken Stew. 

Her favorite thing to drink is chocolate milk. 

Her favorite dessert is ‘Extra Special Candy Swirls’. 

Renata is not afraid to throw hands if you mess with her siblings and cousins. And she will BITE you if she finds it necessary. 

Makes the exact face Mirabel does whenever Camilo makes a bad joke in their hearing distance. 

Renata loves Elmira's music. She'd even go as far as to say her cousin is her favorite musician—but she also likes Freddie Facilier’s music. 

Her favorite song of Elmira’s is ‘If you loved him’ and her favorite song of Freddie’s is ‘the night is young’. 

Renata can't ride a bike. 

She's still at that age where she clings to whichever family member she's out with at the time. 

José once swapped her shampoo out for dish soap and she didn't notice until Mirabel realized it wasn't the same consistency as her usual shampoo.

Renata can't spell too well yet and there's a lot she doesn't know school wise yet, but she does know about a lot of other stuff and will gladly chatter off about it all if given the chance.

Renata has an incredible long-term memory but an awful short-term memory.

Renata is not allowed to drink energy drinks. Both due to the fact that it's not healthy for tiny children and because of what the Madrigals call the ‘Casita Energy Drink’ Incident.

The five year old, in stark contrast to her friends and sister Vera, is not very good with modern technology. She could grow better with age but for now, she is horrendous at using anything other than a tv. 

She and José have a bit of a cousin rivalry(?) going on. Because of this, Lyric does not like José and will chase after him to get him away from Renata at random sometimes. 

Lyric the dog does not get along at all with José’s animal companion, Flapjack the Gastric-Brooding Frog, at all and will chase them around whenever the two of them are alone together.

Renata still walks around with the baby blanket her mother made it—it’s pink with frilly bows and a dancing dog pattern. She adores it. It used to have skeletons dancing with the dogs, too, but after Renata’s disastrous gift ceremony Mirabel spent days painstakingly removing every skeleton from it so that her daughter could still find comfort in the item. 

Renata’s three favorite toys are the squishy and sticky giant gummy bear toy that Elmira gave her on a visit home from college, a pretty princess doll that greatly resembled Renata that Princesa gifted her for her fifth birthday, and the stuffed dog in shoes that her mother made her when she was a baby.

The five year old loves playing jump rope and her cousins and siblings will often lure her out of her room with the promise of playing it so that she can relax. 

Renata also likes helping her abuela Julieta go herb collecting and mushroom/ingredient hunting on occasion, when her glasses are working that is. 

Renata’s door shows her covering her eyes with partially skeletal hands over where her eyes would be and the doorframe is a dark pink color. 

Her room is about the same size as the nursery with no windows, dark pink carpet, a red ceiling, and light pink walls with a colorful easter egg pattern. Her bed is heart shaped with heavy fluffy covers and big pillows that are almost as big as she is which many of her stuffed animals and dolls rest upon. 

Other than her bed, she also has a heart shaped toy chest as well as light pink nightstands, a white desk lamp with a gummy bear covered lampshade, a red tv stand with a tiny tv, and a little dog shaped desk with a comfy bean bag chair where she can do her work. Her bed had drawers under it where Renata’s clothes are stored. 

But the thing that Renata adores most about her room isn’t any of that or the beautiful pictures of her family and friends that hang on her wall. No, the thing she adores most about her room is the fact that her X-ray vision disappears the moment she steps inside of it and the sweet relief that it brings her. If Renata had it her way, she would never leave her room because of this. 

Oh and she has a gigantic doll house that matches the playhouse and doghouse that is also in her room. 

She even has a small book shelf with a couple of drawing and fashion books on it.

When Renata gets overwhelmed, her door will become completely see through to her and others and it won’t turn back until she is calm. Renata, of course, hates this. 

Eventually Renata gets over her fear of skeletons after her glasses are more improved. 

Renata is pretty decent at playing guitar and piano and the accordion but doesn’t really have much interest in any of it. Something Vera is very jealous of, understandably— given the fact she wants to be a musician like her dad and can’t play any of those well.

One time Renate broke her nose after running into a wall after her gift started acting up because she had her eyes covered and couldn't see.