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keyaho · 16 days ago

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summary: kyra returns to her hometown after ten years away. she ends up braiding the hair of the one man that had and still has her heart.

authors note: he was supposed to be breaking her in half like a glow stick. idk what happened. he's all soft and shit. sometimes I write and the characters will lead the way. terry was not with me bending kyra over so he could fuck......

wordcount: 2600

warnings: none

Kyra was home this time for good. Fontaine Street was lit up as her father hosted a block party in her honor. She had just finished her nursing program and was currently a registered nurse at the main hospital. It gave her a forty-five minute commute twice a day, but the pay was worth it. Plus, her father had given her his house as a gift, having moved to another closer to his ailing mother three months ago. Markus Fields was known around the block back in the day, having run the entire Fontaine block with his crew. Remnants of that still lingered with up and coming young men wanting to emulate him.

She slipped in and out of the crowd, hugging older men and women who had watched her grow up over the years. Some neighborhood friends commended her on making it out the hood. She brushed them off, telling them she just wanted to be a nurse. Boasting around here led to rumors and the last thing she wanted was her hometown to think she had outgrown them in a way she thought she was better than them.

Kyra moved towards her front porch, a few people lingered there, but she slipped into the house unnoticed just to get a break from socializing. The party was going to drag on for a few more house and if it wasn’t the weekend, she’d be sneaking to a hotel to get sleep.

“Are you running from him,’ Markus sat at the kitchen table, eating a plate of ribs and baked beans.

“Dad,’ Kyra sighed. “I haven’t even seen him. I just came in to get a break.”

“Well, he’s been asking about you. He came in a few months ago. Retired from the Marines, some shit went down in some place called Rebel Ridge with his cousin,’ he rambled an Kyra grew concerned. “He passed. Terry showed up here a mess.” Markus sighs.

“Oh,’ she replies, unsure of what to say.

“He asked if you still braid hair.”

Kyra looked to her father and slowly folded her arms over her chest. “Dad…’

“He’ll be by here tomorrow morning.”

“I don’t have anything to do his hair with,’ she admitted, slapping her thighs after throwing her hands up.

“You hair box is still in the bathroom. Combs and shit still down there.”

“Dad,’

“Braid his hair and talk to him. He needs it.” Markus watched his daughter grab a drink from the fridge. As she left he thought, he needs you. A man in love was easy to spot and Terry long had been in love with his daughter.

Back outside, she popped the tab on her Coke and walked towards the end of the street where the ice cream truck had parked. She needed something cold to ice out her nerves. Terry had been her first. Everything. They had fumbled one night in bed and though the sex was awkward and rushed, neither knew what they were doing, the intimacy with him could never be matched. Leaving for school had been the hardest decision of her life. She’s glad he found himself a way out too.

Kyra saw him before he saw her. Standing next to the spades table, red solo cup held between his full lips as he pulled up his slightly large black sweats. MARINE was embellished on his shirt, the material old and faded. His hair had grown out and it framed his face in a way that Narcissus himself would fall in love. The afro was very different than the low cut cesar he had when they were kids. When she last saw him it was fresh and he came right to her house to show off. She remembered her father swatting him off the porch because she couldn’t come out once the street lights were on. From the porch she had waved, laughed and secretly pointed to her bedroom window.

Now he was a grown man. She was a grown woman and the butterflies were still there.

Stepping up to the truck she eyed the vintage flavors not found in commercial stores anymore. The buttercup shaped popsicle called her name and she reached into her back pocket when a hand reached over her shoulder, two ones and the two quarters held against his palm by his ring and pinky finger.

“Aye Terry!” The seller greeted. “What you doing back here bruh? Heard you was out with them Marines and shit.”

Maybe it was another Terry. She didn’t turn around and when the popsicle was passed to her. She ripped off the paper.

“I got out,’ his rich baritone filled her ears. “Did my ten years.”

That’s how long it had been since they last seen each other?

“It’s good seein’ yall two.” He said, eyeing the way Terry stood behind Kyra.

The whole block knew how they felt about each other.

“Are you going to turn around?” He asked, still standing close to her.

He moved them from the line and towards the sidewalk, people giving them way with knowing looks on their faces. She ignored them. They stood on the side of someone’s house, her back to the old wood. The ice cream tucked between her lips as she sucked on the smooth creamy treat.

“Hey,’ she replied, unsure of what to say to him.

“How you been, Ky?”

“Good, um,’

He placed his hands beneath her chin, forcing her to look up at him. There was no hesitation in his next move. His hands slid up her cheeks to the curls at the nape of her neck. His lips were soft and he kissed her slow, tasting the ice cream, her strawberry lip gloss, and her. She dropped the ice cream and grabbed his waist. He took the initiate and stepped forward and pushed her up against the house.

“Two deployments and I would do another one if it mean coming back home to kiss you.”

He held her face in his hands, thumbs brushing her warm cheeks. He always said the most loving and romantic shit. Her knees weakened just a little and he smiled as she looked away from him.

“Are you still shy?” He asked. “Can’t be if you’re coming out the house in those shorts.”

The denim shorts were high waisted with ripped holes along the thighs and one in a particular place on her ass, showing just a sliver of cheek.

“You put them on for me,’ he says, his lips dangerously close to hers. This was not the Terry she had grown up with. This was grown Terry.

“Fuck,’ she says, pushing him back to get some space to breath.

He caught her hands and brought them to his lips. He wore a big smile, all 32 teeth exposed as his green eyes looked her over. He stepped back up to her and hooked his finger into the belt hook of her shorts.

“I’ll be over in the morning to see you.”

“Your hair.” She says, remembering what her Dad had told her. “I’m braiding your hair. $250.”

Terry laughed, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. “Nah, how about head for head?”

“Terry!” Kyra hissed. That was the Terry she remembered, shit talking. Only this time, she knew he could back it up.

He placed his hand on her stomach and pushed her back against the house.

“You’ve been the source of all my dreams, my nightmares, Kyra.” He sighed. “All I’ve thought about was you for ten years. Hoping that when I saw you again there wasn’t a ring on your finger.”

It was getting too heavy. His confession of his feelings were too much. She might have shared them, wondered where had been and doing, but hearing them aloud sent her mind into a free fall.

“Tell me I’m not too late, Ky Ky.”

Before she could respond he kissed her forehead. The sky had darkened and the music was louder, people yelling and enjoying themselves in the background.

“You’re never too late,’ she admitted.

Terry’s shoulders slumped and the tension between them snapped.

“Kyra?”

The pair looked up and Terry took a step away from Kyra.

“Yeah,’ she says, addressing one of her friends from college that had stopped by.

“Your dad is looking for you.” Her eyes drifted to Terry and she made the connection. Kyra had talked about Terry plenty of times over bottles of wine and ice cream while they were in college. “I’ll tell him your busy,’

Kyra shook her head. “No no, I’m coming.”

Her friend nodded, a knowing smile on her face. “Okay.”

When they were alone again, Terry pulled her in for another kiss. He held her head back and she rose on her toes to meet his retreating lips.

“We can finish this tomorrow.”

Up at seven thirty, Kyra grabbed her hair supplies from the bathroom. She sifted through the box for her rattail comb and rubber bands. True to form, she had some blue magic grease and pink lotion. She kept up with braiding and didn’t need all that edge control and gel. Just the basics. Her side hustle on campus kept her afloat. She walked into the kitchen where a pot of coffee was brewing. She had ingredients for breakfast, but knew she didn’t have time to cook and eat before he came over. Terry was punctual and she had a hunch he was going to be early.

She wore a pink robe over her pajama bottoms and shirt. The old sleepwear was loose and worn in from constant wear. She had bought it on a trip to Italy a few years ago and the soft material still held up. Her slippers were somewhere under her bed and her long polka dot socks came up to her thighs. If Terry wasn’t coming over to get his hair braided one would think she was about to go back to bed, which she probably would once he left.

As Kyra set up the area she was going to use in her kitchen, facing the tv, she heard the doorbell ring and three hard knocks followed. Of course he was early. Taking her time, she flipped on the foyer light and unlatched the two locks. The deadbolt clicked back and she opened the door to see Terry in a black hoodie and another pair of sweat pants. His hair was picked out and she noticed his beard for the first time. He looked rough.

“Goodmorning,’ she said through the screen door while reaching to unlock the tiny lock inside the handle.

“Morning,’ he hummed, stepping inside as soon as he could. He brought her lips to his while dipping his tongue into her mouth. “Where you want me,’ he asked.

“The be-uh, table, shit, there’s a chair at the table.” Kyra stepped around him so flustered she almost stubbed her toe on the table as she walked past.

She could feel him behind her. The last time they were in this house they were saying goodbye to each other. Horizontality. Their fingers fumbled over each other as they clung to one another.

Terry smiled and pulled off his hoodie, a fitted black tank top clung to his muscular frame. He plopped down in the chair, legs spread as if he was waiting for her to sit in his lap. She moved behind him after checking on her coffee.

“How many braids?” She asked, her fingers reaching into his hair. She was surprised his hair was freshly washed.

Reaching behind her, she pour pink lotion into her hair and rubbed them together before sinking them into his head. She pulled the lotion through his hair, grabbing oil to apply to his ends.

“Do what you want, baby,’ he replied.

She hadn’t braided men’s hair in a long time so she decided to have a bit of fun. Making the first zig-zag part, she used the comb to hold his hair to the side. She applied a little ore oil to her fingers and placed her hands at the top of his hair line, gripping the hair firmly as she started to braid.

“Is that too tight,’ she asked.

“No, feels good.”

Thirty minutes passed when her stomach started growling. Terry tiled his head back.

“I can order something,’ he says.

“You heard that?”

“It’s been grumbling for the past ten minutes. I just didn’t want to say nothing.”

She smacked a hand over his chest as he stands up, half his head braided. He reaches into his hoodie for his phone, pulling up a menu from a diner a few blocks over.

“Why didn’t you say anything,’ she folds her arms over her chest at his smile.

“You already popped me with the comb!” He laughs. “I wasn’t trying to get beat up.”

When he sat back down, he let her work for a few more minutes as he worked up the courage to start the conversation they needed to have.

“I was serious last night,’ he began. “There’s never been anyone else….long term for me.” Terry sighed, his hand coming to rub the back of his neck. “No one was you.”

On braid six, with two to go, Kyra listened to him. He poured his heart out to her, telling her about Rebel Ridge, losing his cousin, the hate in that town and how it almost killed him. She noticed a scar on his back and when he mentioned getting shot she glanced down at it. Her fingers touched over the raised scar. Kyra smoothed her hands up his arms and rested them on his shoulders.

“There’s a lot I want to tell you,’ she admitted.

He was numerous entries in her journal. Her thoughts and feelings were all on paper and it was much easier to have him read it than say it aloud, but she’d get to that later. She could at least admit to one thing.

“Terry,’ she says, wanting him to look at her.

He tilted his head back and his hazel eyes stared into her brown ones. His full lips were slightly parted and she leaned down, kissing him upside down while she whispered her deepest feelings against his mouth.

I love you.

Terry jerked up, almost flying out of the seat. Kyra jumped back as he turned around and pushed her into the fridge. Hand on her belly, he propped the other on top of the fridge.

“Say it again,’ he begged, lips wet after licking them twice. “Say that shit again.”

“I love me some you.” She looks down for a moment. “When I went off to school I had hoped you would stop me and beg me to stay.”

“I wouldn’t keep you from your dreams Kyra. I knew how much you wanted to be a nurse. I would have hated myself if I kept you here.”

“I know. I would walk around campus hoping you were there, but we both needed to find out way out of Fontaine before we could find each other again, I guess.”

“You don’t have to wonder where I am anymore.”

Kyra glanced up at him. His eyes were hooded and low. The emotions swirling between them was overwhelming. He bent his knees so they were eye level.

“As long as you’re at 345 E Fontaine Street I’m here with you. And if you leave, baby, I’m right behind you.”

Taglist: @nayaesworld @peachbuttetfly @harmshake @heauxvibez @avoidthings

@mymindisneverhere @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @eilujion @heytaewrites

@browngirldominion @insidefeelingofanadult @blackerthings @gwenda-fav @brandithecrystalgem

@captainwithoutmakingitlove @dremmmm @kindofaintrovert @thegreatlibraryofalex @jimmybutlrr

@beenathembo @kuromiish @virgomess @bbyxgall @theereina

@randomhood @ash-ketchumzzz @dundienominated @thatone-girly

#terry richmond x black!reader #terry Richmond x black reader #terry Richmond x black!oc #x black fem reader

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lilbitdepressed27 · 9 months ago

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Jenna Ortega/ Fem!Bodyguard

Summary: you’re her bodyguard also g!preader

Warnings: bad smut prepare your self

WC: 1.7k

Author’s Note: it’s my first time (most likely my last) writing smut. Don’t know where this came from but hope y’all like it. Sorry for any mistakes. Also I have few too many unfinished drafts some of them being AU’s for Tara I’ll try to finish them as soon as possible. Or least finish one.

You stood a few inches away from the actress as she smiled and talked with a few fans. 'Never be too far from her. Keep her in arms length.' That had been a rule you always followed. The short six months that you've worked for her have been, different. You had joined the marines right after high school. Being in the marines for six years. You had been given the choice to renew your contract but you had declined. Figuring that six years was enough.

Now you worked as a bodyguard for a sweet actress. Jenna Ortega. Americas new it girl. So far you loved the job. Jenna was everything and more. Caring, kind and amazing. She was so kind to her fans, which was why you were behind her as she spoke with some. She had been talking with the small group of girls for the past few minutes. You looked down at your watch, the actresses had a tight schedule you had come to learn. Especially Americas it girl.

A small tap on her elbow was the signal. "Sorry guys but I have to go. It was nice meeting you." Jenna smiled and gave the four girls separate hugs. Thanking them and saying goodbye. Allowing you to lead her way.

"Bye Jenna! Bye Y/n!"

Strangers knowing your name had also been something you were now used to. You smiled at the girls and waved back. Leading Jenna away towards the building. It was a good thing it was a mostly empty parking lot. She had an interview but it was a video interview and she had it set back in her hotel room. It was the last thing she had scheduled for the day. You smiled slightly when she looked up at you, while you both waited for the elevator.

It wasn't long till you were in the hotel room. Closing and locking the door before you had your arms full of a short brunette.

"Finally. We're alone. How can I miss you so much when you're with me all day." Jenna complained her face hiding in your neck. She couldn't help but smile when she smelt your cologne. It was a sent she loved. The feeling of your strong arms wrapping around her waist as she wrapped her legs around your waist. The way you effortlessly picked her up. She had never felt so safe with anyone, not in the way she felt around you. From the very first moment she met you, she had known that it'd be easy being friends. She had not prepared herself to fall in love. Loving you was so free, so easy.

"Mmh I missed you to baby." You walked towards the bed and laid on your back. Jenna was quick to get comfortable on top, tuck her face into your neck. Stuffing her hands into your shirt. Smiling when you felt light kisses being placed on your pulse. Never did you think that by getting this job you'd find the love of your life.

"I can feel, how much you missed me."

Your breath hitched when you felt her grinding on your lap. Part of you hardening. Your hands moving to rest on the back of your head as you watched her grind on your lap. Bitting your lip at the sounds of her moans and whimpers. The way her nails dug into your stomach.

"Y-Y/n please." Her hips stuttered before trying to go faster. Her hands shaking a clear desperation of need, as she tried to unbuckle your pants. She looks up at you her eyes filled with lust and desire. "I-I need you."

"Now? baby you have an interview in a few minutes. Don't start something you can't finish." But just as you said that. You thought of something. Something that had you taking a grip of her wrists. Stopping her movement. Your length fell heavy on your stomach after you freed your self from your pants.

"Come on then. You know what to do." You knew exactly what you were doing. Was it risky? Yes. But did you love the thrill. Absolutely. You watched as she quickly pushed her panties to the side. Not bothering to take them off. It was a great thing she was wearing a skirt.

"FFuck." The overwhelming feeling of pure pleasure over took her body as she felt your tip grazing her clit. Then the stretch of your tip entering her. No matter how many times she was intimate with you, she'd never get used to your size. The need and want of always having you inside her was something she always craved. The feeling of your length stretching her out as she continued moving down until she bottom out. The ecstasy of it all.

You jerked your hips up, watching in satisfaction as she threw her head back the way her breathing hitched before the moans escaped her lips. The way her walls tightened around you as she continued to let out her screams of pleasure.

The sound of Jenna's phone ringing was heard throughout the room, "Answer the phone." Seeing the tremble of her body you knew she was close. But she had a job to do. So with that you gripped her hips. Halting her movements. You ignored the whine coming from her lips.

"Answer the phone. I won't ask again."

Knowing she couldn't argue she answered the phone. Her hand shaking, her hips instinctively twitching every few seconds. Like her hips had a mind of their own. "H-Hello?"

"Jenna the interview is in 5 minutes. Get your laptop set up, the link has been sent. I can go to your room to hel-No! I" A small moan escaping her lips, when you jerked your hips up. she was quick to cover it up with a cough. Eyes widening as she looked down at you. A smirk was what she got in return.

"I got it don't don't worry about it. I'll I'll see you soon." She hung up the phone throwing it to side.

"Y-Y/n baby please. Faster."

You knew it was a risk but your horniness was at an all time high. So you got the small foldable bed table. Putting it on your stomach. It already had her laptop.

"Nonono. I can't. I'll I'll just reschedule it."

"No. Do your interview or we will stop right now. Now be my good girl and do your job." Your hands squeezed her rear cheeks. Her soft flesh warm in your hands.

She could see how red she was. The thin layer of sweat was noticeable but not as much as she tried to focus on what the interviewer was saying. You were using her, your length still inside her. you stayed like that for a while, then you started to move. The shock of pleasure shot through her body, biting her lip so hard to keep in the moans that threatened to escape. She felt it again. And again. Every single twitch into her g-spot. It almost had her rolling her eyes in pleasure. But holding in the need to bounce into your length was starting become painful. She needed to come, needed for you to wreak her like you always did. The need for you to leave her satisfied and legs shaking from the strong orgasms. You never left her unsatisfied.

"You alright Jenna?" The interviewer asked when he got no response.

"Uh y-yea. Just think I'm coming down with a cold or s-something."

But then you started to fuck her slowly, her hips being held down by your strong hands. The pace was painfully slow.

"Oh a cold? I'm sorry to hear that. I'll try to wrap this up as quick as possible."

She covered her mouth with palm of her hand. Masking it as a yawn. As you found a steady but still careful pace. The pleasure she was feeling in this very moment was becoming too much. Just the thought of getting caught had her clenching on your length. The filthy thought stayed. What if people knew what was happening? The thought alone had her wanting to chase her orgasm more.

You on the other hand were having so much fun watching the actress struggle. Twitching your cock deep inside her, seeing her fight the pleasure as she tried to keep a straight face and answer the questions being asked. You could feel her wetness sliding down your cock. The way her thighs were trembling. Ah the self control that she was showing, it made you want test it even more.

Reaching your hand in between her legs, finding the swollen bundle of nerve and pinching it. Loving the muffled squeak that escaped her lips. Her underwear was completely soaked, the feeling of her clit in between your fingers, your own heart beat thumbing in your ears as her walls clenched your length the more you played with her clit.

Her knuckles were white from how tight she was holding the handles on the small laptop table.

"Okay Jenna that's it. Thank you for taking time out of your day to do this interview with me. I hope you get better soon."

"Th-Thank you. And thank you for having me." With a wave the interview was finally over. Slamming the laptop shut. She pushed the table off of you. Not caring that laptop was on the table as it fell on the floor. Her nails scratching your toned stomach. She couldn't take it anymore. She needed you, she needed you to move. The two orgasms that she had while she spoke to the interviewer were not enough. Although her thighs would say otherwise with how much they were shaking.

"Baby please, ffuck me."

The night was spent with rough but passionate love making. If someone asked her why she was walking weird the next day, she had ignored your smug look as she explained how she fell the day before. But she couldn’t deny that she was eager to do it again. The soreness be damned.

#jenna ortega x fem!reader #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter #scream #fem!reader #x reader

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penkura · 1 month ago

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Another Way

Summary: Garp had taken you and Luffy along to visit a country under Marine orders. While there you met a brother and sister who quickly became your friends.

Pairing: Law x Fem!Reader

Notes: Just an idea it had and decided to write up for Law’s birthday cause HE DESERVES TO BE HAPPY OKAY. ;3; I don't know if I might ever turn this into something more, but I just really wanted to write this, so I hope you all enjoy. 💚

“You’ll come back, yeah?”

“Mm…I bet grandpa will let me come with him again.”

The nod and grin you give him makes seventeen-year-old Law smile softly in return. It’s so strange how much you’ve come to like each other in the last two weeks you’ve been in Flevance, you never believed you’d find someone your own age to spend your time with, Law certainly didn’t expect to have immediate feelings for some random girl that showed up with her Marine grandfather. It was just a formality from the government, to ensure the people of Flevance were doing well after the sudden eradication of white lead disease, none of them sure what happened or why, but the Marines had been out several times to see how the country was doing.

Everyone was thriving, no one was fearful of the white spots across others faces and arms, residual marks that would stay, but didn’t signal illness anymore. The government dust it know what to think, they heard it from another marine that someone had saved the country, allegedly a boy with Devil Fruit powers, and that was four years ago.

Twice a year visits from an admiral or vice admiral, sometimes a small group of Marines that were available, to ensure all was still well. Garp ended up with it this time, you asking him to go along and Luffy deciding he wanted to also, Dragon wasn’t too keen on the idea but your puppy dog eyes convinced him.

You met Law the first day you arrived, two weeks ago. At first his mother was the one to ask him to show you and Luffy around, something he thought would be a pain until he actually met you. You were so much more than he expected, bright and friendly, you were so talkative and he didn’t mind it. Lami and Luffy spent most of their time playing together, you and Law would sit on a park bench like you are now, talking about practically anything.

“Think your dad might come next time?”

“Nah, dad won’t. He’s too busy with whatever it is he does.”

Law nods this time, watching Luffy and Lami chase each other down in a game of tag. You don’t really know what Dragon does, you just know he comes home twice a month and gives you and Luffy sweets from wherever he’s been. You told Law the day before that you’ll have to bring him a few sometime, they aren’t as sweet as they look and he seemed interested.

“I’ve had fun, the last few days.”

“I feel like I’ve bored you most of the time.”

Shaking your head, you scoot a little closer to Law, setting your hand on top of his that’s sitting on the bench.

“No, you’ve been great! I like hearing about the medical things you’ve learned, it’s really cool!”

Law nearly rolls his eyes, but keeps a smile as he holds your hand.

“You’re just being nice, I know it’s boring. Your brother fell asleep yesterday.”

“He’s ten, he doesn’t care about anything except playing Pirates. Your sister has been a great playmate for him.”

“That’s Lami for you…she’s really the sweetest person I’ve ever known.”

“Takes after her big brother then.”

“Oh shut up.”

Law shoves your shoulder a bit with his own, making you laugh as he does the same. You didn’t think you’d enjoy yourself so much the last two weeks, you only wanted to go for a vacation. Garp didn’t care, you and Luffy would find people to entertain you, and you did with Law and Lami. Their parents had been more than accommodating as well, inviting the three of you for dinner each night so far, you and Law taking walks with Luffy and Lami afterwards on your own until Garp is ready to take you back to the hotel.

“Your birthday is tomorrow, right?”

“Don’t get me anything.”

“I wasn’t gonna!” You laugh again as Law shakes his head at you, “I just heard your dad mention it before we left your house. Your mom already invited us over again.”

“Its cause she likes you, and my mentor is coming into town. I think she wants you to meet him.”

“Yeah? That’s really cool!”

“Yeah…he’s a marine too, he…really helped us years ago.”

Maybe Law will explain it one day, that he was the boy who suddenly had Devil Fruit powers and was able to save his family, friends, and home. Maybe he’ll tell you that story, the next time you come to visit, he may even ask you on a proper date without your siblings around too. He knows his mom keeps inviting you over because she’s trying to play matchmaker, he doesn’t even mind it, he really does like you.

He's pretty certain you like him too, especially when you lean your head on his shoulder after a few minutes, letting him lace your fingers together.

“I’m really glad I came here. Getting to meet and know you was worth it.”

“I’m glad I met you too…I—”

“See? I told you my brother likes your sister!”

“That’s so gross.”

Law releases your hand before standing up and turning around, face redder as he gives a scowl to Luffy and Lami, both of whom are grinning while you laugh.

“I thought you two were still playing!”

“I want dessert, Law!!”

Sighing, Law of course doesn’t shake Lami off when she grabs onto his arm and pouts, only asking what she wants instead.

“We want ice cream! Right, Luffy?!”

“Right!!” Luffy in turn comes around the bench and grabs onto your arm, pulling you up as you nod and give Law a smile.

“Guess we have no choice, huh?”

“Guess not.”

The younger two cheer, Lami takes Luffy’s hand and starts leading him towards the nearby ice cream shop. You and Law take your time catching up with them, you reach over and quietly take his hand again as you walk. You don’t care if Luffy thinks it’s gross, or if Lami might tease her big brother about it, you still want to enjoy the bit of time you have with Law before you leave for a while.

“I like you too, Law.”

He nearly flinches hearing you say that, only because it was unexpected, but it gives him a calm, warm feeling in his chest to hear it.

“Yeah…?”

“Yup,” you lean up and kiss his cheek, giving him a grin while he stares at you slightly wide eyed, “That can be your birthday gift, even though it’s early.”

Neither of you get to say anything more before Lami and Luffy call for you to hurry up, but you don’t let go of each other’s hand for even a second. Even though you’re leaving soon, Law intends to make the most of it, to make sure you know just how much likes you and wants to see you again.

He's definitely going to ask you on a date next time you’re in town.

#one piece x reader #reader insert #fem!reader #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader

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theclairvoyage · 3 months ago

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Mermaid Purse - Part 1 of 3

AO3 | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Marine Biologist!Reader x Joel Miller

Summary: Summertime in Clearwater, Florida means no school, which means instead of teaching Marine Biology at a local university, you're bartending at The Rusty Sawfish, a bar located on the marina of Clearwater Beach. The owner's friend, who happens to be a sexy, suarthy Texan contractor, moves to town to start over and help his friend with a project, stumbling across you in the process... and you thought summer in Florida couldn't get hotter.

Warnings for Part 1: Minors DNI! adult language, alcohol consumption, sexual tension, reader is female, reader is able-bodied, unspecified age gap, allusions to smut, kissing, groping, mentions of threesomes. Please lmk if I missed anything!

WC: 9k

If Florida was good at one thing besides starring in strange headlines, it was bringing the heat.

Summer had its bags packed and was ready to leave Clearwater Beach. Not soon enough, you thought, as the humid, subtropical heat of late July in Southern Florida drenched your skin in sticky sweat. The salty breeze from the Gulf of Mexico made it bearable, as did the marine life.

You had loved animals as long as you can remember. Growing up in the Midwest, you became acclimated to the four-legged ruminates and vast birds of the region. The closest thing you had to the ocean were stinky, dirt-sand beaches tucked away near state parks and curled highways. Oh, and the occasional zoo. Then grew your zeal for the ocean and the creatures that called it home.

That is, until you moved to Florida to study marine biology at the University of Florida, when that zeal exploded into full-on wonderment.

Some of your fondest memories of university were spending innumerable mornings out on the open sea, tagging sharks, rays, and skates for research. As you learned more about these gorgeous creatures, known in the scholarly world as the elasmobranchs, a feeling of protection grew.

And as always, the more you learned about animals, the more you learned about humans. Some species of sharks have been fished to near-extinction, and over the course of your four years in undergrad, you bore witness to and swore to change that.

Now, as a Professor of Marine Biology at a new college in Clearwater devoted exclusively to the study of marine life, you do your best to imprint that mindset in your students. Though in summertime, when the students are absent, you’re a full-time bartender at a local marina. The double income in the summer is cushy, and it’s a nice change from teaching—not to mention the people watching.

That’s where you’re headed now, at 3:00 PM on a Friday—The Rusty Sawfish. The name is what drew you in, obviously, but the ease and satisfaction of the job are what keep you. The owner, Gil—another marine pun-slash-name—loves having you around, even if it’s only in the summertime. He calls you during the school year to see how life is, and if you can pick up a random shift here and there. A former Air Force pilot from Chicago, Gil spent a good chunk of his midlife in Southern Florida and opened The Rusty Sawfish after retired life bored him.

You turn onto Clearwater Memorial Causeway, a long bridge that connects mainland Florida to Clearwater Beach Island, where the bar is located. You’ve not once grown tired of the view—beautiful, blue-green waters, white sand beaches, swaying palm trees, and endless sunshine. Sometimes, you’ll catch an occasional shark dorsal fin cruising along calmer waters or a bottlenose dolphin breaching at the surface.

The Rusty Sawfish lies in Clearwater Municipal Marina, surrounded by several restaurants, hotels, other bars, and tourist spots. Like many Southern Florida beach cities, the population is a revolving door. You don’t mind it, though it’s not the same close-knit community as your hometown in Nebraska.

You park on the street and stroll up to the bar, shooing some laughing gulls from the sidewalk. The tourists here love to feed them, and they feel comfortable in human spaces. You check your watch—two minutes to spare before you’re “late”, though Gil would never call you out. He’s just happy you’re there.

The bar is one of the few out here that has large, glass garage doors that can open and enclose the place, which gives it an advantage in case of bad weather. The inside is modern, unlike many marina bars that are filled with worn wooden floors and hut-like roofs. The natural lighting inside is beautiful, no thanks to the big windows flanking the front. The long u-shaped bar has enough comfortable space for 4-5 bartenders at once, which is sometimes doubled on busy summer days.

You step in and walk directly to the back office to drop your purse and clock in. Gil, perched in his old desk chair and staring at his ancient computer in the stuffy office, looks up from the screen, readers glasses threatening to slip from the edge of his nose. You chuckle.

“Afternoon, kiddo,” he greets you, smile crinkling his tan, leathery face.

“Afternoon, Gil. How’s it been today?”

“Same shit. Big group of fishermen stopped here earlier and are still here. May need to cut ‘em off soon if they haven’t started laying off the booze,” he groans, scribbling something on his legal pad. A pencil and paper guy, Gil would still be using an old-fashioned book balance if it weren’t for you. Though he understands that electronic bookkeeping is a lifesaver, he’s skeptical of computers—and terrible at using them.

“Sounds good. Just me for a while?” You ask, setting your things in one of the desk drawers and punching in on the time clock. You can’t remember who was at the bar when you walked in.

“Georgia is here, and we got 2 more coming in for the evening. Shaping up to be a great night,” he says, returning to stare dead-faced at the computer. Stifling a chuckle, you nod and exit the office.

Georgia, the lone bartender, is quite happy to see you as she wipes off the countertop of the bar. She’s a close friend of yours—you two met here at the bar several years ago and share a love for the ocean and its creatures. She’s a fresh college graduate and a few years your junior.

“Hey! So glad you’re here!” She squeaks, giving you a quick hug. She’s always been a touchy-feely girl, unlike you—though it doesn’t bother you.

“Rough lunch shift?” You tease, checking the ice bins and refrigerators for stock. She comes up close to your ear and lowers her voice.

“Those fucking old men have been ruthless. I made Gil take care of their last couple rounds because I can’t deal with the catcalling,” she hisses. Before you can scan the bar to eye the table, she stops you.

“Don’t,” she warns, “They had a field day when you walked in. I’m shocked you didn’t notice!”

Curbing the urge to roll your eyes, you nod. “Where are they seated? Maybe we should just give Gil the entire table,” you suggest.

“Underneath the big TV. They insisted on sitting there so they could play Keno and watch baseball,” she groans.

“Ah, yes. America’s favorite pastimes,” you quip. Georgia cackles.

“I’ll stock quick. Need any of the taps changed?” you ask her, grabbing a sticky note and pen by the POS system. Bar preference is to have each new shift stock everything once they clock in, which makes the rest of the day a breeze. Georgia nods.

“I know we’re running low on Miller—that damn table has been guzzling it all day,” she gripes. You giggle.

“I’ll be back shortly,” you say, heading to the back to grab bottles, cans, and change the Miller tap. It’s quick work for you and you’re back behind the counter in ten minutes.

“You ready for a break, Georg?” You ask her, preparing your side of the bar with clean glasses and towels.

“Not yet, maybe in about an hour once Gil is done trying to fill a single spreadsheet on Excel,” she jokes, making both of you laugh. “Plus, I am not leaving you out here alone with those weirdos.”

“Is that one coming up here now?” You tilt your head toward a pudgy, middle-aged, sunburnt man with a ratty Budweiser shirt and an awful sunglasses tan approaching the bar. He’s not stumbling, but the dumb grin on his face indicates that he’s feeling pretty good. Georgia confirms with an annoyed grunt.

“Lovely ladies, can I get a refill of Miller?” He chirps, leaning against the bar countertop and propping his glass up.

“Sure. I’m gonna give you a new glass, though,” Georgia responds, taking the dirty one and putting it in the black bin for used dishes. Budweiser Man groans.

“Aw, I was tryin’ to help you, sweetie,” he says, loud voice enough to curdle cold milk. He snaps his eyes to you.

“Wow. Two gorgeous girls running the bar? I think we’re in trouble,” he jokes, punctuating his sentence with a belly laugh. The urge to rip his ratty shirt off his potbelly and embarrass him floods your system momentarily. You settle for a fake smile instead.

“Sounds like you could use some water,” you joke, still fake smiling at him. Languidly, he tries to pout at you, but the buzz makes the shift in facial expressions difficult.

“Trust me, sir—a day out in this sun, you’ll want water with each drink,” you add, getting a glass ready for him.

“Then what’s the point of the beer, hunny?” he whines. Pet names drive you mad, especially from drunk old men. Patience diminishing by the second, you inhale deeply and fill the glass with water with the soda gun.

“Just making sure our patrons are safe, sir. Want to make sure you’re able to come back,” you respond, handing him a water as Georgia hands him a full pint of Miller.

“Sure thing, gorgeous,” he says, winking at you. Gross. The number of middle-aged men that have flirted with Georgia and you from the other side of the bar is probably pretty high, but most don’t give you the creeps. Georgia waits until he’s back at the table before sneering.

“Jesus, what a fucking creep,” she seethes. “I’d love to spit in his drink.”

“Easy, Georg. Don’t lose it over Porky Pig,” you quip, followed by a boisterous laugh from her.

The night is busy, but smooth. A weekend fishing tournament at the beach brings in tons of salty, sunburnt folks. Two other bartenders, Mike and Rand, come in around 7:00 PM to help with the dinner rush. They’re college kids that double as bouncers, which would’ve been helpful earlier. The annoying table of anglers left around 5:00 PM after Gil warned them that he’d give them the boot if they didn’t start drinking water. Porky and his crew left reluctantly, though not before coming up to give you and Georgia big tips and his phone number scrawled on a receipt.

Just in case you two like to tag team, it said. Both of you suppressed a wave of nausea after reading that.

The bar closes at 2:00 AM most nights during the summer, and from 10 PM-1:30 AM, the bar is hopping. Lots of anglers and tourists flock to the bar for the big TVs and fancy drinks, many of which you helped Gil curate. Around 11:00, you finally get a chance to take a break. Feeling sluggish, you walk over to the nearby convenience store to grab a coffee—caffeine doesn’t do much for you, but it’ll give you the boost you need to reach close.

A can of double shot espresso with cream calls your name, and you’re eager to crack it open. Forgetting to look before leaving the aisle, you bump into something tall and hard. The can falls and busts open on the floor, spraying coffee everywhere. Fuck.

“Oh shit,” you say, realizing that you slammed into some guy. “I’m so sorry!” Quickly, you crouch to pick up the fallen can from the cold linoleum floor.

The voice that responds wakes you up more than any espresso could. “S’alright, miss. You alright?”

You look up from the puddle of coffee and see a good-sized, handsome-as-fuck stranger standing above you. Middle-aged; curly, brown hair with flecks of gray; tan, muscled arms; big hands; warm, calming chocolate eyes. He looks so good that you’re frozen, unable to reply. He cocks an eyebrow at you before a small grin etches his face.

“Uh, yeah—sorry. I’m in a hurry, I didn’t mean to bump into you. I should’ve paid attention,” you respond, panicked. You scan the aisle for paper towels or something to clean up the mess.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll go get an employee to clean this up,” the man assures you, his silky, Southern voice placating you. You stand slowly, too embarrassed to meet his eyes. A slow burn creeps up your neck and cheeks as his gaze sweeps over you.

“I’ll be right back,” he promises, and you look up at him just before he turns away. Fuck, he’s gorgeous. His irises are lined with specks of amber, like gold flakes. He almost looks worried.

A few moments later, he returns with an older lady dressed in a convenience store uniform, sporting a fluffy white towel. She smiles warmly at you. Hyper focused on not looking at the handsome stranger, you smile back at her and hold your hand out.

“I’ll clean it, I made the mess. I’d want the same if someone made a mess where I worked,” you offer. Both the employee and the man laugh. She tilts her head at you as if she’s trying to recognize you.

“You work at The Rusty Sawfish, don’t you?” She asks, watching you wipe up the puddle of coffee.

“Guilty. I’m on my break right now, though I seem to have wasted it being an idiot,” you say, and the two strangers chuckle again. The man’s deep, rumbly laugh makes your stomach flip.

“Oh, don’t worry about it, sweetie. You deserve a break! Let me finish and take a can on the house,” she says. Her kindness mirrors that of most residents here—always helping others, stranger or not.

“Oh, I couldn’t. Unless you came to the bar for a free drink. Both of you,” you add, forcing yourself to make eye contact with the handsome stranger.

The way he stares at you makes you writhe. His gaze is captivating. His eyes circle around your eyes and your lips, unmoving—like you’re the only person in the room. Time pauses as you both exchange stares. He’s the first to speak.

“I’ll be there,” he says, half-smirking at you. You forgot about the convenience store employee until she speaks again.

“Late night here for me, but I’ll stop by this weekend! Have a great night, sweetie!”

“Thank you both,” you say, grabbing a new can and waving as you walk backward toward the exit. You don’t miss the way Sexy Stranger watches you leave, but you miss the way his eyes traverse your frame when you turn around.

Shivers blitz your spine as you walk back to work, thinking of how he looked at you. He was one of the most attractive men you’d seen here, which says a lot. Southern Florida beach cities are ripe with hot men from all walks of life. His accent was Southern, but not Floridian—more mainland, like Oklahoma or Texas. Before you can think on it further, you trot back into the bar.

Thankfully, there isn’t a huge rush of patrons. Georgia, Mike, and Rand are moving around behind the bar. You hurry and step behind the u-shaped area, smoothing your hair out of your face. Georgia approaches you, grinning.

“Sorry—I made a complete fool of myself at the convenience store and spilled coffee everywhere, even ran into this sexy guy in the aisle,” You lament, redoing your now sweaty and frizzy updo. She laughs.

“Did you get his number, though?” Georgia asks. “Also, how sexy are we talking?”

You widen your eyes and whistle lowly. “Georg—I’m telling you, he was sexy as fuck. Southern type—tall, dark, and handsome. He said he was coming here.”

She claps her hands together giddily. “Hell yes. Surprised he didn’t follow you right then and there,” she adds with a wink. You roll your eyes.

“Nah, but I’m sure he’ll do that to you when he sees you,” you hypothesize. Georgia is beautiful—typical tan, blonde Florida beach babe with a killer body. She’s bubbly, too, with a personality that matches the Clearwater sunshine, and she’s smart. She shushes you, frowning.

“Um… have you seen yourself? You’re a fucking knockout. How many guys have tried to get us to do a threesome with them? That should tell you everything,” Georgia reminds you. You shrug, unsure how to answer—she’s right.

“That’s what I thought, Miss I Don’t Know I’m Beautiful. Now shut up and help me get the drinks ready for this table,” she says, giving you an air kiss on the cheek. Georg knows how to cheer you up—her sunshine personality is contagious.

Several cocktails and minutes later, you head back to the cooler to restock the bar fridges. When you return, a seat at the bar is occupied with a familiar curly-haired man peering up at the television behind the bar. He’s not facing you, thankfully—the way you froze was embarrassing enough. Coolly, you hoist the bin of alcohol on your shoulder and stride toward the bar. The fridge you need to restock doesn’t face him, so you have some time to plan a greeting while you refill the beers. Georgia pokes your side as she walks up to him, informing you that she knows it’s your sexy mystery man.

“Welcome in! Have you been here before?” She chirps, handing him a menu. He shakes his head and scans the sheets quickly before folding it up and handing it back to her.

“No, ma’am. Was advised to come here by one of the employees,” he croons. You feel his stare boring a hole in your head and decide it’s time to acknowledge him.

Standing up, you face him and hope your cheeks don’t burn bright red. He’s smiling at you, and fuck, that smile is something you won’t forget. Pearly whites on full display, crinkled but twinkling eyes, a salt and pepper beard, and tan skin complement the face staring at yours.

Speak, you idiot.

“Hi again. Glad you made it. I wondered where the coffee smell came from.” Your wit pulls a boisterous laugh from him, one that does something tingly to your insides. Georgia interrupts.

“I’ll take over the stocking while you help this gentleman,” she says, pinching your side as she walks away. The man’s eyes don’t follow her, which surprises you—they’re glued to you. Words exit your mouth before you can ruminate further.

“What can I get you? I take it you’re not a fruity cocktail kind of guy,” you tease, smirking at him. He shakes his head and chuckles.

“Correct, ma’am. Is the whiskey here all you’ve got?” He nods to the shelves behind you.

“Not quite. The owner is a whiskey aficionado and has some reserve bottles in the back that he saves for special customers,” you say, putting a hand next to your mouth as you fake whisper. The lopsided grin returns on his face, sending your pulse into overdrive.

“Would gettin’ spilled on by an employee qualify me as a special customer?” He wisecracks, arching a brow at you. You slump your shoulders in mock defeat.

“I suppose. What’s your favorite?” His jaw ticks back and forth as he ponders.

“Too hard to say. Not a picky guy. Been cravin’ some Eagle Rare,” his velvet voice replies, the soundwaves tickling the hair on your ears.

“I’ll go ask the boss. Be right back.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Sexy Stranger replies, watching you leave. Undiscovered by you, he’s turned to watch you walk to Gil’s office, his pulse picking up at what he sees.

He won’t lie to himself—he’s drabbled in some younger women over the years, many of whom were nothing but a one-night stand, a pretty young thing to slip inside and make him feel younger for a few hours. But you’re different. Stunning, yes. Charming, funny, and mysterious, too—like you’re looking at the world from a different dimension. He senses a force field around you, though, one he worries you won’t let him invade.

You step out of Gil’s office with a dusty bottle of Eagle Rare, aged ten years. Gil was astounded that someone requested this, and had he not been contemplating ways to destroy his computer, he’d have joined the Sexy Stranger for a glass.

As you return to the bar, you admire the man’s full head of brunette curls, and the random spots kissed with gray locks. His shoulders are brawny and expansive, pulling taut the flannel fabric between his scapulas. Atop them is a thick, ropy neck, with a jutting Adam’s apple and tan flesh you’d like to sink your teeth into. He was tall, but not overtly so—just enough to complement his muscly build.

The way he leans back in the chair and sees his surroundings exudes a calm tenacity, but the way his eyes smolder suggests a tendency to be ravenous. You wonder if that duality is something he wants to show you. Warmth surges through your veins as you fantasize about a complete stranger, wracking your core and igniting thoughts and feelings you haven’t had in a long time.

Certainly, you’d been with men since moving to Clearwater, and though the options were vast, the likelihood of something lasting was minimal. Thus, you chose to keep interactions with men somewhat superficial, an imaginary arm constantly protruding from you to forbid anything further than flirtatious banter. This attractive, swarthy man, however, had his wrist wrapped around that arm and was threatening to rip it from you—the thought frightened and excited you.

Momentarily, you ignore the rush of adrenaline as you return behind the bar and into his view. Like a magnet, he latches onto you at once, eyes burning your face and figure. Using a damp towel behind the counter, you swipe dust off the bottle and set it in front of him.

“Here you are, sir. One dusty bottle of Eagle Rare.” Sexy Stranger smiles at the bottle, wrapping a large hand around the base and examining the label.

“’S the good stuff,” he murmurs, voice dropping deeper than you thought possible. The pitch twists your insides. In an effort to subdue your racing mind and pulse, you force a smirk and start wiping off the counter.

You feel the man’s eyes snap to you, melting your resolve with a fiery intensity. Suddenly, you’re unable to continue moving the towel, and resign to meeting his eyes. Smoldering is the only way to describe the way he’s looking at you.

That familiar rush of heat wraps around the base of your throat and underneath the fabric of your now-suffocating, loose tee shirt. Instinctively, you fiddle with the collar and pull it down slightly, trying to let out some of the hot air trapped inside, unaware of the fact that you’ve exposed some skin to him. In any other situation, it would’ve been a harmless gesture, but here, it only spurs on his imagination. His pupils dilate ever so slightly at the sight of your collarbone, complemented with a silver pendant necklace.

“What’s that necklace you got there?” Sexy Stranger asks. Involuntarily, your fingers latch onto the shark charm and twiddle it back and forth. He’s still watching.

“Oh, it’s a shark. Can’t remember the last time I took this thing off—I forget about it,” you say, surprised that you can form coherent sentences right now under his hot gaze.

He makes eye contact with you and raises an eyebrow. “Why a shark?”

“The short version is that it’s my favorite animal.”

He tilts his head at you, jaw ticking again. Your eyes latch onto the strong muscles moving it back and forth, flexing underneath his temples.

“And the long version?”

You cock an eyebrow, mirroring him, and grab a short glass, placing it on a coaster in front of him. “Before I delve into that, how do you like your whiskey?”

He chuckles, deep and rumbly. “Neat, sweetheart.”

The pet name eviscerates your stomach. You gulp without meeting his gaze, aware that he’s staring at you still. You pour him a perfect glass of bourbon neat and push the coaster toward him. As you let go, he reaches for the glass, fingertips brushing the tops of your fingers.

As if you touched the metal prongs of a plug, you whip your hand back. The feeling of his skin on yours was nothing short of electric. He misreads your reaction.

“Sorry ‘bout that, didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he says, brown eyes no longer smoldering but concerned.

“Oh no, it’s not that, just wasn’t expecting it,” you stammer, not wanting to give him the wrong idea. Ironic. He lets it pass, for now.

“So—the long story?” He takes a generous sip of the amber liquid, swishing it around his mouth as he watches you. You place your palms down on the counter and smile at him.

“Long story is I’m a Professor of Marine Biology at a local university here. I’ve been studying sharks for a long time now. They are beautiful, brilliant creatures that have evolved to near perfection. I do what I can to protect them—they have been fished relentlessly.”

Sexy Stranger is in awe of you, struck by your eloquence, intelligence, and beauty. He takes another sip, never dragging his eyes from yours.

“Wow,” he says, raising both eyebrows as he sets the glass down. “Just one question.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. The two of you are getting good at this nonverbal communication.

“You consider that the long version?”

His humor catches you off guard and a goofy, boisterous laugh escapes you. For the second time now, he flashes a full smile at you. He likes that sound.

Suddenly, a phone rings nearby. He frowns and fishes a small, old iPhone from his front jeans pocket and squints at the screen. He grimaces as he stuffs it back, shifting uncomfortably in the chair to make it fit.

“Sweetheart, I need to run. Lemme settle up for the glass,” he says, the pet name stimulating your pulse again.

“Sure thing. Gil said to come back any time—the bottle is basically yours,” you say, winking at him as you print his receipt. His heartbeat does some racing of its own at the gesture. He tears his eyes from you to fish for his wallet and throw some bills on top of the receipt.

“Will do. I’ll see you around, darlin’,” Sexy Stranger says as he stands, giving you a small wink as he leaves. You watch him leave before realizing you didn’t cash him out. You grab the cash and receipt, noticing what looks like writing on the back side.

A phone number is scrawled on the back. Underneath is his name. Joel.

Your heart stops as you stare at the small white paper. When did I even give him a pen? I didn’t notice him writing. Georgia startles you with an elbow to the side.

“That was quick,” she teases. Bashful, you fold the receipt up and shove it in the pocket of your jean shorts.

“Shut up, Georg. He was just being nice. Probably wants tips for shark watching or something.”

She stares at you incredulously. “Girl… he’s so fucking into you. Everybody in this building felt that tension.”

Heat creeps up your spine once again. You check the POS system for the time and see that it’s almost 2:00 AM. Time to close and do it all again tomorrow.

“Let’s get something to eat. Wanna crash at my place?” Georgia asks. You nod, finding that you’re hungry—but something tells you it’s not food you’re craving.

Sunlight bounces off the white walls of Georgia’s apartment just before 7:00 AM. A light groan escapes you as you stretch out on the plush sectional in her living room before settling back into the burrow of blankets.

Georgia lives a quick five-minute drive from the marina, in a lofty one-bedroom apartment with an ocean view. Her family is generationally wealthy and based in Sarasota, Florida—hence the high-rise apartment and a nice Mercedes SUV. She escaped the clutches of her uptight family to explore her passion—surfing. She got a job at The Rusty Sawfish to supplement her allowance and pay for surfing gear and tournaments, something her parents refused to do. You two clicked immediately and have been friends since.

Pulling your hoodie up over your head, you check your phone quickly before deciding whether to go back to sleep. It’s still early, and you didn’t get to sleep until after 3:00 AM. Your stomach backflips when you see a message from an unknown number pop up. The nerves turn to giddiness as you remember that the number belongs to Joel, the sexy stranger you met at the convenience store last night. You messaged him when you got to Georgia’s apartment last night asking if he made it home alright, certain he wouldn’t be awake to respond. You swipe down to read the message.

Joel: Morning sweetheart. I made it home just fine. Was hoping you’d text sooner so I could ask the same. :)

Kicking your feet like a child, you contemplate a response.

You: Sorry I texted so late! I didn’t make it back to my friend’s place until close to 3.

Joel is quick to respond.

Joel: Surprised you’re up. Figured someone as pretty as you would need at least 8 hours of beauty sleep. By the way—your friend told me your name. I hope that’s OK.

Grinning at your phone, you shake your head slowly. The man is as charming over text as he is in person.

You: You flatter me. I was just going to go back to sleep given that I currently look like a hobbit—guess 8 hours is exactly what I need ;)

You: And yes, that’s okay. Sounds a lot like my friend. She’s a good wingman.

Joel: I highly doubt you look anything less than gorgeous. Get some rest. We’ll talk later today.

Pretty. Gorgeous.

The grin doesn’t leave your face as you drift back to sleep.

Later that evening, you’re behind the familiar u-shaped counter of the bar with paper-thin patience and a penchant for kicking out a rowdy group of college age anglers from the tournament.

“Look, I have a legit ID and I’m an adult, I can drink however many beers I want!” A gangly blonde trust fund-looking kid from the group whines at you. You narrow your eyes at him briefly before responding, like a snake ready to strike its prey.

“Not how it works. It’s the bar’s best practice to avoid overserving and keep this a safe place for everybody. Drink some water and we’ll revisit,” you reply, voice stern. You squeeze the towel in your hand for stress relief.

Though Florida has a dram shop law that prevents bars from being sued by an intoxicated patron that ends up drunk driving and getting hurt, Gil has always mandated a no overserving policy. Spending all day out in the ocean and then drinking heavily is a dangerous combo. The older patrons have no qualms about it, but the younger, rowdier crowds differ. Blonde kid sticks his index finger on the counter and leans in close to you, bloodshot eyes fixated on yours.

“I want your manager,” he spits, breath reeking of booze. Still somewhat level-headed, you stare directly in his eyes.

“You got it,” you respond, emotionless. Gil’s not one for overserving, and he’s not one for rude patrons harassing his bartenders. This dumb kid has a lesson coming.

Stone faced, you drop your towel and tell Georgia you’ll be right back before cruising to Gil’s office. The door is wide open, and to your surprise, Joel’s sitting in the chair next to Gil, the two of them chuckling and conversing. Your heart falters momentarily before you remember why you came back here. You knock lightly on the open door and both men look up at you.

Gil frowns immediately. He’s seen that look before.

“Not a good sign when my best employee has that look on her face. Where is he?” Gil asks, standing and removing his readers. Feeling Joel’s eyes burning holes in you, you do your best to ignore them right now.

“Up front. Blonde kid with the frat group. Pissed off that I won’t pour him a 5th vodka red bull. I told him about our policy, and he asked for the manager,” you recite, tight-lipped. Gil nods, squeezing your shoulder lightly as he walks past you to the bar.

Thankful that Gil is handling it, you close your eyes and exhale heavily before remembering you’re not alone. Your eyes open quickly to find Joel staring at you. His eyes look concerned, though there’s that damned lopsided smile on his face.

“Guy’s got some balls on him,” he jokes, standing and taking a step closer to you. Your pulse quickens. Laughing, you roll your eyes and wave him off.

“Everybody does when they’re drunk.”

Joel rakes a hand through his stubble and nods, studying your face.

“I reckon I wasn’t totally honest with you last night,” he says, face falling slightly. Raising an eyebrow, you try to quiet the thousand thoughts that rush through your mind—is he going to say that he’s married? Fresh out of prison? Gay? Well… the last one is unlikely. He clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck as he continues.

“I’ve known Gil for a long, long time. S’why I knew there’d be Eagle Rare here,” he says.

Relief rushes through you. “Jesus, Joel. I thought you were gonna tell me you were married.”

A hearty laugh escapes him as he shakes his head fervently, throwing his hands up in surrender. “Hell no. Haven’t been married since I was in my early 20s, which was about a million years ago.”

You wipe your brow exaggeratedly, signaling your relief. Joel chuckles again.

“So, what brings you to Clearwater, then? Or have you always been here?”

“No, no. I’m from Texas. Been here several times but moved here last month. I’m a contractor and Gil and I have worked on some projects together. He wants my help f’another one.”

It all makes sense—the flannel shirt, the muscles, the demeanor, the accent. A question pops up in your mind.

“Does he know you gave me your number last night?” You ask him, tilting your head inquisitively.

“Yes, ma’am. We’re good friends. He’s protective of you, but I made it clear t’him that I ain’t tryin’ any funny business with you,” he admits, smoldering eyes affixed to yours. His expression and tone gives you the impression that he’s telling the truth, like lying to you would be worse than anything.

“Are you saying… you don’t often give your number to bartenders that spill coffee all over you?” You chide, flashing a smile at him. His pupils dilate imperceptibly.

“No, ma’am. Don’t make that kinda thing a habit,” he responds, taking a step closer to you. Your breath catches in your throat at his proximity. He’s within arm’s reach, and the magnetic field between the two of you is sending your internal compass off the rails. He opens his mouth to say something, but Gil interrupts the moment, oblivious to the two of you.

“He’s taken care of. Thanks for dealing with him,” he sing-songs, saying your name warmly.

Still staring at Joel, you reply to Gil. “Appreciate it, Gil. I’ll return to my post.”

Joel laughs quietly, eyes twinkling at you. You smile coyly at him before leaving the office, needing to cool off before you explode internally. The sexual tension between the two of you is almost too much to handle.

Before you can check if he’s following you, Georgia flags you down behind the bar. A devilish smile plays on her tan, freckled face.

“So… he’s back,” she teases, waggling her eyebrows. “You taking him home tonight or what?”

Jaw dropping in mock shock, you tilt your head at her.

“Are you suggesting that I sleep with him? Georg—I don’t know him!”

She guffaws. “Gil knows him very well, though. Isn’t that enough to tell you he’s safe? I bet they watch boring carpenter shows together and spend all their money on fancy old man bourbon.”

Good point. Joel seems safe—for now. But you’ve been out of the game far too long to half-ass a night with a man like him. He seems… experienced. And the glint in his eyes when he sees you is enough to make your heart jump out of your chest.

“I don’t know. I’m interested. I’ll keep an open mind. Sounds like he’s in Clearwater for good… plenty of old beach babes to take him on,” you joke, winking at her. She punches your arm.

“He doesn’t even look at anybody but you, dipshit. If you say something like that one more time, I’m gonna tell him,” she threatens half-jokingly, pointing a polished finger in your face.

“Fine. We’ll see where it ends up,” you surrender, checking the fridges for a routine restock.

The remainder of Saturday night at The Rusty Sawfish is busy, but not overwhelmingly so.

Georgia, Mike, Rand, and you man the bar, which had no empty chairs the entire evening. Business was booming from the fishing tournament, and even Gil stepped out of the office to pour some drinks.

Joel made himself comfortable at the end of the bar. Gil dumped stacks of blueprints in front of him, and he got busy reviewing them while nursing glasses of neat bourbon. You couldn’t count the number of times you two exchanged glances and shy smiles, and he couldn’t count the number of times he caught himself staring at you. He was entranced by the way you moved at the bar—commanding the flow of customers, making drinks at lightning speed, being friendly with the customers, and looking damn good while you do it.

Closing time rolls around yet again, and he’s still scanning blueprints, sketching on pages here and there with his carpenter’s pencil. Every so often, he’d tuck it behind one of his ears, mussing some of his curls in the process. You found yourself studying his mannerisms, trying to get to know him without speaking. He’d tick his jaw back and forth as he read, and the corner of his lips would twitch each time he marked the page with his pencil, salt and pepper mustache hairs grooving along with them.

You learn from the way he holds the page out three feet in front of him to read small text, brow furrowing as he deciphers the letters, that he’s stubborn and not ready to buy reader’s glasses. You catch yourself giggling at it, making damn sure he doesn’t see.

You learn that he was likely a former athlete by the way his hips sway when he walks to the bathroom, his gait controlled yet energetic and limber, the denim of his very-worn jeans hugging his strong legs. The jeans indicate that he’s not much of a shopper and is loyal to what makes him feel comfortable, like a pair of faded, almost-torn bootcut Wranglers molded to his frame and creased leather cowboy boots.

You learn that his body is still in wonderful shape as he folds his arms behind his head and arches his back to stretch his aching body, revealing a sliver of soft-looking skin above the denim waistband and a trail of dark hair leading from his belly button down beneath.

You learn that he enjoys hearing your laugh with each time he tries to prod it out of you with a silly joke or a wisecrack about one of the customers. Given the manner and frequency with which his eyes travel up and down your frame, he also likes your body—from the subtle shelf of your breasts underneath your tank top, to the shape of your ass in your frayed jean shorts, to your smooth legs. But he likes your face, too—evident by the way his amber eyes travel over your features, landing frequently at your eyes and lips.

Now, you can tell Georgia she’s right—that he fancies you, more so than any other woman that glanced at him twice during the night. And boy, there were plenty.

Most of all, though—you learn how much you want him. If not obvious by the butterflies bouncing off the walls of your abdomen and chest as he speaks to you, it is clear when you take a bathroom break of your own and find dampness in your panties. Your nerves are in overdrive at the possibility of finding out what his hands feel like on your skin, what his lips feel like meshed with yours, what his strong frame feels like flush against yours.

Needing cool relief, you soak a paper towel in cold water and place it on the back of your neck, shivering at the stray droplets that roll down your spine. You stare at yourself in the mirror and start to realize that maybe Georgia is right about you, that you are beautiful and worthy of feeling that way.

You exit the bathroom to find that it’s now past 2:00 AM, and customers have left—all but Joel. He’s standing now, elbows leaning against the counter. He notices the air pressure change from the bathroom door opening and turns to stare at you as you approach him, eyes sweeping up and down your figure once again.

“Sir, we’re closed. Have you paid your tab?” You ask, half-smiling at him. He laughs as he fishes his wallet out of his jeans pocket.

“Gettin’ there, sweetheart,” he says, grunting as it finally comes out of its enclosure. The wallet is about as worn as the jeans, faded and bent at the corners. He hands you several twenty-dollar bills, a few too many for his sixty-dollar tab.

“I’ll get your change,” you say, muscle memory taking over. He puts a hand up.

“No, keep it. You deserve it,” he murmurs, tucking the wallet back in his pocket and gathering the blueprints for Gil.

“Joel, it’s too much for what little work I did tonight,” you protest. He looks at you, eyes smoldering once again.

“No, darlin’—you did a lot more than you think.” The tone suggests he’d been imagining you the same way you did him, sending a zing of shivers up your spine. You know your cheeks are reddening, but you ignore it as you balance the drawer for the evening. Joel trots back to Gil’s office to return the papers, resurfacing after a few minutes.

Georgia, Mike, and Rand have finished cleaning and their closing duties. They stop by the register to check in on you.

“Hey—there’s a party at Mike’s neighbor’s house. You in?” Georgia asks, knowing full well you’re not going to agree. You can tell she’s trying not to smirk.

“No, thanks. I’m exhausted,” you reply, dividing up the tips. “Here you go, tips for tonight. Great job.”

“Well, you better come to the one next week—you can’t use this excuse again,” Mike teases you, elbowing you lightly.

“I’ll be there, just not feeling it tonight. Thanks, guys,” you say warmly, hugging Georgia as they prepare to leave.

“Oh, we rode together—are you good taking an Uber? I was going to ride with these guys,” she asks, loud enough for Joel to hear.

“I can walk to my car. It’s only a few minutes.”

Joel interrupts. “I’ll take ya. I’m sure y’feel safe out here, but it’s late and dark.”

Georgia takes this as her cue to leave. “See you tomorrow, love!” You wave as the three exit, leaving Joel, you, and the magnetic sexual tension between you.

“You sure about this? Really, it’s not that bad of a trek,” you ask him, not wanting to be a bother. He raises an eyebrow at you.

“I’d feel better f’you let me make sure you’re safe, and y’just said y’were tired,” he says lowly, voice dropping in decibels to match the now-quiet atmosphere of the bar.

“If it helps you sleep at night, sure,” you joke, winking at him. A yawn interrupts your comedic routine, to which Joel raises his eyebrows.

“How ‘bout I just drive you home, sweetheart?” He suggests. A wave of fatigue hits you as you finish yawning, and you surrender.

“Good idea. Let me get my stuff.”

You emerge from the office after retrieving your purse and saying goodbye to Gil, who has resumed trying to figure out Excel. Joel watches you approach him, rubbing his beard distractedly.

You lead him out of the bar, the nervous energy between you making your legs feel restless. Joel places a hand on your lower back as you push the doors open. Once outside, you expect him to move it, but he doesn’t. It stays warm and firm on your back as you two walk down the marina to the street parking area.

The sound of the waves crashing into the shore placates your nerves a bit. You peer at them as you walk, bewitched by the rays of moonlight dancing on the subtle peaks.

“S’a beautiful night,” Joel murmurs, closer to your ear than you realized. You jump a bit, and he chuckles quietly, rubbing his hand softly on your lower back.

“Sorry, didn’t mean t’scare ya,” he apologizes. The cool beach breeze blows by, and goosebumps grow on your bare skin. You rub your arms instinctively. A few moments later, Joel places his flannel over your shoulders, squeezing the tops lightly before letting go. The warm gesture makes those butterflies in your stomach ricochet like pinballs.

“Thanks. It’s cooler than normal this evening,” you say, watching your feet as you continue walking. The scent of his shirt engulfs your senses, slowing your pace momentarily. It’s an alluring mix of earthy and musky, like sandalwood, pine, and sweet bourbon.

“This is me,” Joel says, stopping next to an older, beatdown Chevy truck. He opens the passenger door for you.

“Didn’t realize you were such a gentleman, Joel,” you tease him. He shuts the door lightly, smirking and shaking his head at you through the window. You glance at your surroundings.

His truck is spotless, save for some stains on the floor. There’s a cup of carpenter’s pencils in one of the cupholders, which makes you smile. The radio is ancient, with a small, thin screen for the time and big black buttons, which are a bit dusty. The only button that’s clean is the power button/volume knob duo. Not much of a music guy, you think.

The driver’s door squeaks open, and Joel plops down on the seat with a grunt. He shoves the key in the ignition and turns it over a few times before the engine roars on.

“Where to?” he asks, cranking the truck into reverse and pulling out of the spot. You direct him to your apartment, which is 10 minutes from the marina.

The ride to your place is quiet, but not awkwardly so. Joel turned on the music and kept the volume low, asking you questions here and there about Clearwater and you.

“Your family here?”

“Nope. I’m from the Midwest. They’re all in Nebraska and Iowa.” He whistles lowly.

“Bit of a drive. Why Florida? Lemme guess—the ocean?”

“That’s part of it,” you reply, staring out the window, watching the palm trees flash by.

“Take it y’also wanted to get away from your family,” he says, tone rhetorical. You snort and turn to face him. He’s got one hand on the wheel, the other perched on the back of your seat. There’s a half-smirk on his moonlight-painted face.

“Am I that obvious?” Your tone is half-incredulous, half-rhetorical. He chuckles in place of responding.

Soon, you arrive at your apartment complex. Joel opens your door and follows you to the building. Hesitant, you stop just before entering and turn to him. The tension is thick, like a hazy cloud between the two of you.

“Do you want to come inside?”

He clenches his jaw, staring at you before replying.

“Sure. Y’gonna take advantage of me?” The witty remark catches you off guard. You burst out laughing and the contagious, melodic sound makes him laugh.

“Only if you want me to,” you reply, holding your keys up to the pad and opening the door. You swear you hear him growl behind you, but he doesn’t reply.

Luckily, you’re on the first floor. You don’t think you could stomach walking up the stairs in your daisy dukes with Joel behind you.

Once inside your place, you open the fridge and grab two bottles of beer as Joel surveys the apartment. You place one on his bare forearm, the sudden chill startling him. He swipes the bottle from your hand as you giggle, giving you a threatening look.

“Want to sit outside? I have a little futon out there,” you offer, realizing you still have his flannel on. The sleeves are a little long, touching the base of your knuckles. He nods. You grab a blanket from the couch and lead him to the sliding glass door in the kitchen.

Your patio is small, but it’s your favorite spot, overlooking the beach. The apartment building is on a small hill, which is great for days when the sea level rises. The waves are still crashing quietly onto the shore, bathed in silky moonlight.

You sit first, crossing your legs underneath the warm blanket. It’s chilly without it. Joel sits next to you with what you now know is his trademark old man grunt, denim-clad leg touching your knee. He takes a swig and brings the base of the bottle to eye level to study the label.

“Sorry—no bourbon,” you lament jokingly, taking a swig of your own. He smirks and takes another sip.

“Didn’t strike you as the type, anyway.”

“Is it the lack of facial hair?” Joel spits out his beer laughing.

“Jesus, you’re somethin’ else,” he coughs, wiping his mouth and beard with the back of his hand.

“In Joel speak, I think that’s a compliment, yes?”

He laughs again, staring at you as you watch the ocean. His hand moves to rest on your kneecap, thumb circling the soft skin lightly. Your heartbeat picks up twofold.

“Gil was right about you,” he murmurs. Confused, you look at him, surprised to see a wanton expression on his face.

“What about me?”

He scoots closer. Your hands squeeze the beer bottle nervously.

“Don’t remember exactly what he said,” he croons, face getting closer to yours, “somethin’ about you bein’ a special person.”

The sexual tension between the two of you has reached a new level of heavy, sucking the air out of your lungs and igniting your core. Joel grabs your beer from your hand, setting it and his down on the concrete floor of the patio. He stares into your eyes, looking for hesitation as he leans closer to you.

Clearly, he finds none, because his lips are on yours, light and soft. The hand that was on your knee is on the back of your neck, thumb pressed against your cheek. His other hand grips your hip and pulls you closer to him. You take the opportunity to climb on his lap, pulling a surprised yet satisfied grunt from him.

His lips move slowly, gently against yours. Rough, warm hands caress the tops of your thighs, leaving goosebumps in their path. He tastes smooth, like the Eagle Rare he sipped on this evening, a rich contrast from the rough scratch of his mustache and beard against your face. You comb fingers through his thick curls, tugging lightly at the base of his head. Another satisfied grunt travels from his throat to your mouth.

The passion overheats you, and like he’s reading your mind, he pushes his shirt off your shoulders, mouth still latched to yours. His hands slip under your tank top and caress your abdomen, fingertips dancing along the underside of your breast. He groans again when he realizes you don’t have a bra on. You tilt your head back and his lips caress your neck, nipping softly at your pulse. The soft moan that leaves your lips spurs him on, and his teeth move higher, tugging on the flesh of your earlobe.

He reaches for the hem of your tank top and slowly lifts the fabric over your head. His eyes burn holes in your skin, pupils dilated so much so that his eyes look black. He reaches up and palms both of your breasts, kneading the flesh and rolling your nipples between his fingertips as he admires your body.

“Christ, you’re perfect,” he breathes before sucking a nipple into his mouth. You wrap your arms around his strong neck and tug his curls back to envelope his mouth with yours. He lifts you from his lap effortlessly and stands, murmuring something about going back inside into your mouth.

Still kissing you, he carries you to your bedroom and tosses you on the bed before caging you in his arms, continuing what you started on the patio as the sound of the ocean and the cicadas fill the background.

Taglist: @burntheedges, @tuquoquebrute, @syd-djarin, @danaispunk, @anoverwhelmingdin

Read Part 2 here!

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #mermaid purse

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sluttywonwoo · 1 year ago

Text

instead of you [part thirty] || l.mh

pairing: [best friend’s brother] lee minho x college!reader ft. han jisung

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either.

warnings: swearing, mentions of menstruation, pain, smut (mdni)

word count: 3.6k

a/n: revamped my tom holland series from my main blog ( @wazzupmrstark ) to try and motivate myself to finish it!!

series masterlist | early access to the next chapter on ko-fi

additional smut warnings: face sitting, protected sex, multiple orgasms

That night, Jisung took you to a pharmacy that was right by the resort. It was within walking distance but since you had a bad foot, you took a cab. He tipped the driver extra to leave the meter running and stay parked outside while you ran in together to grab what you needed, and then tipped him again when you made it back to the hotel since the whole journey was more of an inconvenience than an actual ride.

After taking a shower, you soaked your foot like Amir had instructed you to and then fell asleep almost immediately. Surfing had completely sapped you of all of your energy, even without the whole sea urchin incident.

Everything hurt when you woke up. It felt similar to the morning after having sex with Minho for the first time but ten times worse. You groaned as you rolled over, the sound splintering off into a whimper when you tried sitting up.

“Quiet, they’re going to think we’re messing around in here,” Jisung said, shushing you. You’d woken him up with your noises.

“Can’t help it,” you grumbled back.

“Sore?” he asked.

“Incredibly.”

“It’s brutal after your first time.”

“I’ve gathered that.”

“I’ll grab you some ibuprofen and a glass of water.”

“Thank you.”

The morning was spent lazily. Jisung made breakfast for everyone and you all ate together in the kitchen, listening to Dom explain the concept of the new book he was writing. You couldn’t really follow the plot but you still nodded along like you did and let the boys do all of the question asking.

After breakfast, everyone got ready for the day and met in the lobby where you were picked up by a cab and taken to a marina. Jisung had told you that you would be snorkeling most of the day, but you hadn’t expected it to be deep sea snorkeling. The idea was a bit daunting but it turned out that it wasn’t actually as deep as the name suggested. The water was clear enough to see everything and the ocean floor was only about thirty feet below you.

The captain of the boat you’d taken out to this spot had assured you that the area was shallow and full of marine life.

“We just like to take visitors out here because it’s less busy than right by the shore,” he said.

Obviously, the man knew what he was talking about. The snorkeling was one of the highlights of the entire trip thus far for you. You had never seen so many fish in one place before, or coral for that matter. Everything was so vibrant that it felt right out of a page of NatGeo. It was nice just to be able to relax and let the water carry your body weight as you floated on the surface, especially since you were still so sore. You barely had to move at all. It was so peaceful that you almost fell asleep in the water.

The only thing that startled you out of your half-asleep daze was Minho purposefully splashing you as he swam past you.

You broke the news of your newfound dedication to celibacy to him once you got back to the resort that night. You’d stayed up to finish a movie with him after everyone else had gone to sleep and he’d invited you back to his room as soon as the credits rolled.

“I just can’t keep going behind Jisung’s back,” you explained.

“You don’t need to explain yourself to me,” he replied. You could tell he was disappointed but was trying not to let it show. You were disappointed too. You’d only slept with him twice but it was some of the best sex of your fucking life and you didn’t want to just throw that away. “Any reason to want to stop is reason enough, and it’s not my business,” he added.

“It kind of is, though,” you reasoned with a sigh. He just shrugged. “I just thought you deserved to know.”

“Thanks for being honest.” He stood from the couch unceremoniously and turned back to you. “Uh, goodnight, I guess.”

You didn’t respond right away, taking a moment to admire the way the light from the television illuminated his features.

“Goodnight, Minho.”

You cringed inwardly at how weak you sounded, forcing a polite smile. The second his back was turned you started rethinking everything. Were you really going to let him just walk away?

“Wait-” you called out after him. “One more time couldn’t hurt, right?”

Your back hit the mattress as soon as the door shut behind you, Minho having pushed you onto his bed at the same time. You bounced a little, giggling as he jumped on top of you. He moved his way up your body until he was able to kiss you, sliding a hand under your head to lift you up to him. You kissed him back eagerly, slipping your tongue into his mouth as soon as the chance presented itself. Minho moaned quietly and you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him in closer.

“We have to be quiet,” he reminded you after breaking away from the kiss. “Felix is right next door.”

You nodded. “I can be quiet.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You sure about that?”

“Mhm, you’ll just have to find something to keep my mouth busy.”

“Fuck.”

He began undressing you slowly, taking his time with you like you knew he liked to do. You were already in your pajamas so everything came off easily. Your t-shirt, your stolen boxer shorts that Minho had probably once thought to be his brother’s, your panties. You were lying naked underneath him in no time.

“I’m off my period, by the way,” you added.

“You know I don’t care about that.”

“Yeah, but I thought you’d want to know… just in case.”

He narrowed his eyes, not following. “Just in case… of what?”

You sighed and flung your arms to the side dramatically. “Oh my god, are you really going to make me spell it out for you?”

“Spell out what?” he hissed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about! I already told you I don’t care about whether you’re on your period or not.”

“Okay, but there are certain things you can’t do on your period.”

“Like what?”

You rolled your eyes. He really was hopeless. At this point, you weren’t sure if he was actually oblivious or being obtuse on purpose. You had been under the impression that Minho liked eating pussy but maybe he had just been pretending to enjoy it for your benefit.

“Do you want to go down on me or not?”

His eyes widened in realization and he nodded eagerly. “Oh, you should’ve just said that.”

“I was trying to!”

“You kept skirting around it!” he argued.

“I didn’t want to say it outright…” you trailed off.

“Why? Are you embarrassed?” He was teasing you and you knew it.

“A little,” you admitted. “I’m not used to asking for what I want.”

He smirked, leaning down to kiss you on the mouth as he answered. “Well, you’d better get used to it.”

You were tempted to tell him it was pointless since this was the last time you were going to sleep together but you didn’t want to bring the mood down so you just nodded into the kiss and tried your best to forget about the depressing reality.

He broke away again, this time to take off his own clothes. You watched him pull his shirt over his head, bottom lip between your teeth as your gaze trailed the defined lines of his body.

“You’re so gorgeous,” you whispered, allowing yourself to reach out and touch him. Your fingers followed the same path as your eyes had and Minho shivered beneath your touch. You expected him to quip back with something smart, something to defuse the sincerity in your voice, but he didn’t. Instead, he pushed his hips forward so that he could grind against you.

A moan caught in your throat and you arched your back, meeting him halfway. The fabric felt good on your clit and the motion of his hips created the friction you had been searching for but you were worried about staining the material. You were already turned on, and your arousal was only building as Minho kissed his way down your neck. You would be mortified if there was a noticeable wet spot on the front of his pants when he pulled away.

For Minho, though, that seemed to be the last thing on his mind. His hands roamed your body like he was trying to memorize each and every curve, like he was an artist, committing your figure to memory so that he could sketch it in graphite once you left his bed.

“Did you want me to?” he asked suddenly.

“Want you to what?”

“Eat you out?”

You shifted a bit on the bed, shy all of the sudden. “Um, only if you want to.”

“Of course I want to, but I wanted to make sure you wanted me to.”

“I don’t know any girl who would turn that down,” you said, half chuckling, then rushed to add, “well there are some people who don’t like it, or prefer other things over it, you know? Or can’t enjoy it because they’re insecure and I mean, I’m not one of those people but-”

“Baby,” Minho cut you off. “A simple yes or no is all I need.”

“Yes. Please.”

Minho grinned and leaned back in to kiss you. “You’re cute.”

You didn’t have it in you to argue so you just pouted as you accepted the kiss. Minho groaned into your mouth, hands coming down to cup your breasts. His thumbs ran over your nipples making you gasp. You got lost in each other for a moment, original goal forgotten until Minho began kissing his way down your neck. He replaced one of the hands on your boobs with his mouth, tongue laving over your nipple just like it would your clit.

You didn’t want to rush him but you were also beginning to feel desperate so you brought a hand to his hair, running your fingers through it before pushing down lightly, trying to signal what you needed. The salt water had left his hair more tousled than usual, leaving it just long enough to fall into his eyes. Even after a shower, it was more wavy than anything. You thought it suited him. Then again, you thought everything suited him.

You weren’t sure how much time passed before Minho finally spoke.

“Want you to sit on my face,” he mumbled against your skin. “Please?”

You sat up a bit, unsure you’d heard him correctly. “Are you serious?”

“Are you going to make me beg?” he asked, not answering the question.

“No, I just… no one’s ever asked me to do that before.”

Minho seemed surprised, likely due to his knowledge of your sexual experience. “Really?”

You nodded. “The guys I usually go for aren’t very-”

“Good in bed?” he supplied.

“Well, yeah. And I’m usually the one asking the girls, so…”

A smirk passed over his face briefly as he processed the information before his expression fell into one of concern again. “Don’t feel like you have to do it just because I want to.”

“No, I know. I’m just a little nervous, I guess.”

“We can stop whenever you want. Just let me know.”

You shook your head and exhaled. “Okay. How should I…”

Minho rolled off of you and onto his back so that you could position yourself on top of him. He helped you straddle his face, big hands rubbing soothing circles on each of your thighs.

“Just so you know, my entire body still feels like jelly from surfing so you’re going to have to do all of the work.”

“I can do that.”

“Are you sure?”

Minho scoffed as if he was offended you’d even ask. “Positive. Do you think I’m weak?”

“N-no! I just-”

“I’ve got you, okay?”

You gulped. “Okay.”

“And that means don’t hover. When I say sit on my face I mean sit. You won’t crush me, if that’s what you’re scared of.”

It was like he could read your mind.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Yes,” you whispered in response.

He coaxed you into lowering yourself little by little until you were close enough for him to taste. You balanced your weight on your knees, still not confident enough to fully rest on him despite his words.

But Minho ended up getting his way in the end because as soon as his tongue touched your pussy, you were suddenly unable to hold yourself upright. You were barely two seconds in and your legs gave out on you, just like you predicted. You weren’t sure why you even tried to ‘hover’ in the first place.

You tried to soften the fall by throwing yourself forward so that at least the top half of your body weight wouldn’t come crashing down on his face but he caught you before your hands hit the mattress and pulled you back on top of him.

“I said not to hover.” It was muffled but you could still make it out.

After that, it was a blur. You couldn’t even worry about whether or not you were suffocating Minho. All you could think about was how fucking good his mouth felt on your cunt.

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop!” you whimpered, still trying to keep your voice down.

Minho could only hum in affirmation but you were sure he would’ve had a thousand cocky lines on the tip of his tongue had the tip of his tongue not been inside of you.

You came hard with a quiet yelp of his name, thighs clenching around his head. He helped you through your orgasm as always, trying to make it as long as possible by encouraging you to ride his face.

You collapsed on the bed as soon as the aftershocks ebbed away, clutching your chest as you tried to catch your breath.

“Fuck, that was so hot,” Minho complimented.

“It… was… hot for me… too.”

He chuckled lightheartedly and reached for his crumpled t-shirt that he’d set against one of the pillows, using it to wipe his mouth and chin before dropping it on the floor. You made a face and he just shrugged, same stupid grin on his face.

“I’m going to wash it.”

You sighed. “I know, just…”

“Figured you wouldn’t want me dripping when I kissed you.”

“Oh, please,” you scoffed and rolled your eyes. “You’re being dramatic.”

“Am I? I think the stain on my pants would say otherwise.”

You didn’t even have time to be mortified because Minho was pressing his lips to yours, effectively erasing whatever you had been about to say from your mind. It was exactly what you’d been afraid of happening but he didn’t seem to mind at all. In fact, he seemed to be even more aroused by it. You could feel how hard he was through his sweats as he rocked his hips against yours, all because of you.

“Don’t be embarrassed about it,” he murmured.

“How did you-”

“Because I know you. And I know you overthink everything. But I think it’s hot, I promise.”

You whined in response, not used to hearing sweet words in bed. His eyes softened as he gazed at you. They were still dark with lust but you could see flecks of fondness peeking through the desire. It made you remember what he said the first time you hooked up.

Who the fuck ever told you to apologize for being turned on?

“I’ll tell you as many times as you need to hear it,” he added with a peck to your nose. “Are you good to keep going?”

You nodded. “Yes, please. Need you.”

“I can tell.”

He was back to teasing you like nothing had happened which was oddly more comfortable. The sincerity of his words had scared you a little, reignited feelings you’d rather not address. It was already hard enough to repress them in intimate moments like these. The thought of Minho actually caring about you was more than you could handle.

“Let me grab a condom,” he mumbled, leaning towards the dresser.

He rifled through the top drawer for one and then shimmied out of his pants and underwear. You laid there motionless as you waited for him to roll one on, still a little out of it from cumming so hard the first time.

“You’re really going to have to do all of the work this time,” you told him. “I can’t feel my legs.”

“Not a problem,” he replied with a wink. “Do you want my fingers first?”

You considered it for a second. You did love his fingers but it was getting late and you both needed to get up relatively early in the morning. And you’d be lying if you said that you weren’t getting impatient for his dick.

“No, just go slow.”

“I’ll go as slow as you need me to.”

You winced as he pushed himself inside of you, hissing through your teeth at the stretch. It wasn’t bad, just a bit overwhelming, but Minho took your reaction as one of pain.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m so sorry,” he grunted. “Should I stop?”

You shook your head. “Keep going.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Please keep going.”

He brought one of his hands down to where you were connected and began to rub your clit with his thumb to distract you from the slight discomfort. Soon, all of the feelings bled into pleasure, indistinguishable from each other, and you started pushing your hips up, weakly fucking yourself on Minho’s cock.

“Needy all of the sudden, aren’t we?” he mused.

“Always needy for you,” you moaned back.

You swore you could feel him twitching inside of you as he cursed. “Want me to move?”

“Please…”

He matched your pace in no time, fully taking over for you just like you’d wanted him to. He kept one hand on the headboard, half to keep his balance, half to keep it from banging against the wall. The other hand had moved from your clit to your face, where he was stroking your cheek with his thumb.

It was different than the other times you’d slept together. He was fucking you slow and deep, each thrust making your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“Fuck, how are you always so tight?” he asked.

You were too fucked out to answer. He didn’t seem to mind.

You weren’t sure how much time passed before he stopped suddenly, telling you to hold on for just as a second as he grabbed a pillow from behind you.

“Does that actually work?” you asked, propping yourself up on your elbows so that he could position it under your lower back.

“I’ve read great reviews.” He ignored the way you rolled your eyes. “Lay back down. How’s that?” He gave an experimental thrust, smiling cockily when your jaw went slack and your mouth fell open.

The change in angle allowed the head of his cock to rest against your g-spot, meaning whenever he moved he was hitting it dead-on. every. time.

“Minho, fuck!” you cried.

“Baby,” he warned.

You moaned again and he immediately shushed you. “What did I say about being quiet?” he growled.

“I t-told you that you’d have to figure out a way to make me,” you choked out.

Minho must have taken that as a challenge because as soon as you got the words out he was shoving two fingers into your mouth, making you suck on them. You moaned around them.

“That’s it, darling. Better?”

You nodded to the best of your ability. You wanted to tell Minho how hot he looked, how good he made you feel, how close you were to cumming but you couldn’t do any of that. To be fair, you doubted you’d be able to string a sentence together even if his fingers weren’t in your mouth.

“‘M close,” he admitted, sounding a little embarrassed. You weren’t sure why. He’d lasted a lot longer than a lot of your other partners. If anything it was impressive.

You tried mumbling out a me too but it was difficult with your mouth full. He seemed to get the idea, though and motioned for you to rub your clit to help you get there.

Minho came first, muffling a shout by biting your shoulder. You wished you could see his face, he was always so pretty when he came, but the sting from the bite was enough to throw you into your own orgasm.

Afterward, when you had both stopped trembling and regained enough muscle strength to move, Minho helped you get redressed. He instructed you to raise your arms above your head so that he could pull your shirt back on, laughing with you when your head got stuck.

You found yourself wishing that you could spend the night with him. It would be so nice to be able to fall asleep in his arms, to wake up next to him. You knew you couldn’t. It was just wishful thinking. You weren’t even sure if he wanted the same thing. You had always assumed that this was just sex to him, but his behavior towards you had made you start to think otherwise.

“You should shower,” Minho said softly, breaking the silence. He was suddenly unable to meet your gaze and you didn’t want to think about what that meant. “Got you all sweaty.”

“What about you?” you asked.

“I’ll go after you. We probably shouldn’t…” he trailed off. “Not that I don’t want to-”

“No, I get it,” you said. “Goodnight, Minho.”

i'm on my laptop tn so no taglist but pls lmk what you think I always appreciate feedback!!

add yourself to my taglist here!

#instead of you stray kids #instead of you skz #iou stray kids #iou skz #stray kids smut #skz smut #lee know smut #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids x female reader #lee know x reader #lee know x female reader #lee know x bi!reader #lee know series #stray kids series

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aimeedaisies · 5 days ago

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The Princess Royal’s Official Engagements in October 2024

01/10 As Court Member of the Fishmongers’ Company, visited a Food Technology Class at Bingley Grammar School. 🐟🏫

As President of the UK Fashion and Textile Association, visited SIL Group’s Fibre Processing Mill at Ladywell Mills in Bradford. 🧵🧣

Visited Viking Arms Limited in Harrogate. ⚔️🏹🗡️

02/10 Visited Blackburn Meadows Bio-Mass Power Plant in Tinsley, Sheffield. 🍃🔋

Visited Sheffield Forgemasters. 🔥⚒️

Visited Loadhog at the Hog Works. 🚛🚚

Opened the University of Sheffield’s Gene Therapy Innovation and Manufacturing Centre. 🧬

03/10 As President of Carers Trust, attended the Short Breaks Wales Conference at Sophia Gardens Cricket Ground in Cardiff. 🦽🏴󠁧󠁢󠁷󠁬󠁳󠁿

As Colonel of The Blues and Royals (Royal Horse Guards and 1st Dragoons), attended the Annual Dinner at the Mandarin Oriental Hyde Park Hotel in Knightsbridge, London. 💂🍽️

04/10 As Vice Patron of the British Horse Society attended the Changing Lives Through Horses Forum at Saddlers' Hall in London. 🐎

08/10 As President of the Royal Yachting Association, opened Warsash Sailing Club’s renovated Clubhouse. ⛵️🍾

As Patron of Catch22, visited the Orion Centre in Havant, Hampshire. 🫂

Sir Tim represented Princess Anne at the Memorial Service for Mrs Julia Rausing (Philanthropist) which was held in St James’s Church in London. ⛪️

09/10 Attended the Annual National Service for Seafarers in St. Paul's Cathedral. ⛪️⚓️

10/10 As Patron of the Royal College of Emergency Medicine, attended the Annual Scientific Conference at the Glasshouse International Centre for Music in Gateshead. 💊

As Patron of the Butler Trust, visited North Tyneside Youth Justice System in North Shields. 🔗

Opened a renovated manufacturing facility in North Shields. 🏢

11/10 As Admiral of the Sea Cadet Corps, Marine Society and Sea Cadets, opened Midlands Boat Station in Birmingham. 🫡⛵️

As Chancellor of Harper Adams University, opened the Digital Learning Hub at the Quad in Telford. 🖥️💻🎮

As Patron of YSS Limited, visited the Criminal Justice Service at the Shropshire Golf Centre in Telford. 👩‍⚖️

14/10 As Guardian of Give Them A Sporting Chance and the Chaffinch Trust, held Management Board and Team Meetings at Gatcombe Park. 💼

15/10 With Sir Tim as Royal Patron of the Motor Neurone Disease Association, attended the “Countdown to Cure” Reception at the Royal College of Nursing in London. 💊

With Sir Tim As Patron of the Remembrance Trust, attended a Dinner at the Beefsteak Club in London. 🌹

16/10 As Royal Patron of the Security Institute, attended the Annual Conference at the Royal Society of Medicine. 🚨🔒

As Master of the Corporation of Trinity House, attended a Civic Luncheon at Trinity House. 🍽️

As Royal Patron of WISE, attended the Annual Conference at IET London: Savoy Place. 🧩

17/10 As Patron of the Cathedral Church of Saint German Peel Development Appeal attended a Thanksgiving Service in St German’s Cathedral, Peel, Isle of Man. 🇮🇲⛪️

Visited the Manx National Heritage “All at Sea” Exhibition at the House of Manannan in Peel, Isle of Man. 🇮🇲 🌊

As Grand Master of the Royal Victorian Order, attended Evensong and a Reception at The King’s Chapel of the Savoy in London. ⛪️🍾

As President of the Royal Society for the encouragement of Arts, Manufactures and Commerce, attended a Reception to mark the 250th Anniversary of RSA House. 🎂

Unofficial Sir Tim, as Chair of the Board of Trustees of the Science Museum Group, attended the launch of the Manchester Science Festival at the Science and Industry Museum in Manchester. 🧪🧬🔭

18/10 On behalf of The King, held an Investiture at Buckingham Palace. 🎖️

Attended a performance by the Spanish Riding School of Vienna at OVO Arena in Wembley. 🇦🇹🇪🇸🐎

19/10 With Sir Tim Attended British Champions Day at Ascot Racecourse. 🏆🐎

22/10 As Master of the Corporation of Trinity House, chaired the Quarterly Meeting of the Court and attended a Luncheon at Trinity House. 💼

As Patron of UK Coaching, held a Reception at Buckingham Palace to celebrate Olympic and Paralympic Coaching. 🇬🇧🏅

23/10 Attended a Bicentenary Commemorative Service to recognise the Scottish Fire and Rescue Service in St Giles’ Cathedral, Edinburgh. 🚒🧯👨‍🚒

As Royal Patron of Leuchie Forever Fund, held a Benefactors’ Dinner at the Palace of Holyroodhouse. 🍽️

24/10 Re-opened the Rowan Glen Factory at Palnure, near Newton Stewart. 🍶

As Patron of the Royal College of Occupational Therapists, opened the new wing at West Cumberland Hospital in Whitehaven. 🏥

With Sir Tim As Patron of the Royal Navy and Royal Marines Charity, attended the Trafalgar Night Dinner at the Old Royal Naval College in Greenwich. ⚓️🫡🍽️

25/10 Opened the British Standards Institution International Electrotechnical Commission Annual Meeting at the Edinburgh International Conference Centre. 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿🔋

28/10 Attended the Prison Advice and Care Trust’s 125th Anniversary National Volunteer Awards at St John’s Church in London. 🏆

29/10 On behalf of The King, held morning and afternoon investitures at Windsor Castle.🎖️

31/10 Visited the Robotic Surgery Unit at Musgrove Park Hospital in Taunton. 🤖🏥

Attended a Reception for the Pride of Somerset Youth Awards winners at Bridgwater and Taunton College. 🏆

Was installed as Chancellor of Health Sciences University before launching the University in Bournemouth. 🎓

As Patron of Save the Children UK, attended the Autumn in the City Dinner at the Savoy in London. 🍽️

Total official engagements for Anne in September: 58

2024 total so far: 371

Total official engagements accompanied/represented by Tim in September: 5

2024 total so far: 91

FYl - due to certain royal family members being off ill/in recovery I won't be posting everyone's engagement counts out of respect, I am continuing to count them and release the totals at the end of the year.

#it’s that time of the month again kids #princess anne #princess royal #tim laurence #timothy laurence #court circular #october 2024 #aimees unofficial engagement count 2024

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marinsgroup · 1 month ago

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Безумные гонки: молодые сотрудники «Союза Маринс Групп» устроили ночной автоквест

Ночной автоквест по улицам столицы и Нижнего Новгорода собрал более ста смелых участников – сотрудников московских и нижегородских предприятий компании. 29 августа вышли на старт почти три десятка команд, готовых погонять по улицам родных городов в поисках ответов на задания.

Организаторы разработали уникальные маршруты, включающие в себя задачи на логику, физическую выносливость и скорость. На каждом этапе находились подсказки, которые указывали путь к следующей точке маршрута. Темп ночного квеста был задан очень высокий. Чтобы преодолеть испытание и быстрее прийти к финишу, пришлось много бегать и пробираться за подсказками в труднодоступные места, некоторые испытания проходили в полной темноте, а нижегородцам даже пришлось перейти вброд реку. Участники решали задания, вооружившись фонариками, полагаясь на остроту своего ума и скорость автомобиля.

– Я только утром осознала впечатления и эмоции от игры. Это было нереально круто, – сказала директор по связям с общественностью торгового центра «Мебельный Базар» Дарья Филина. – Наша команда действительно кайфанула. Несмотря на порой сложные задания, мы были в восторге. Опыт очень классный, его стоит повторить снова. В такой неформальной обстановке каждый узнал коллег с новой стороны, и я уверена, что это позволит стать чуточку ближе друг к другу, укрепить отношения в коллективе и с ещё большим энтузиазмом двигаться к новым победам в работе.

Маршруты квестов проходили через главные достопримечательност�� Москвы и Нижнего Новгорода, а завершились общим сбором участников. Много эмоций, вкусной еды, танцев, встреча рассвета – сотрудники с радостью делились впечатлениями по итогам мероприятия.

– На подобном мероприятии я была первый раз. Когда я услышала, что планируется квест, то, не задумываясь, собрала команду и записалась сразу, – рассказала административный директор Центрального офиса «Маринс Групп» ‒ Москва Татьяна Костюкевич. – Во время выполнения заданий наша команда очень волновалась, периодически обстановка в машине накалялась, но мы справились со своими эмоциями и прошли все испытания. Этапы квеста были очень интересными, а временами просто захватывающими. Для успешного выполнения требовалось проявить смекалку, хорошо ориентироваться на местности. Когда на этапах мы видели другие команды, сразу просыпался дух соперничества. Хочется сказать спасибо нашей компании за такие невероятные эмоции.

‒ В этом году у нас стартовали новые проекты для молодых сотрудников на предприятиях компании. Они касаются не только нововведений, помогающих карьерному росту эффективных сотрудников и выявлению их профессионального потенциала, ‒ говорит Василий Фадеев, заместитель председателя Совета молодёжи «Союза Маринс Групп». ‒ У нас проходят корпоративные мероприятия в рамках Года молодёжи, которые расширили границы представлений. Новые форматы этих событий помогают сотрудникам раскрыть свои возможности в соответствии с духом времени – стремительным и решительным, помогая тем самым и компании в развитии, в достижении общих больших успехов.

Подобные мероприятия для молодых сотрудников будут проходить во всех регионах присутствия «Союза Маринс Групп», поощряя креативные идеи и смелые инициативы сотрудников, а также значимые успехи всего коллектива компании.

#фестиваль #русская кухня #фестиваль кухни #гастрономия #Marins Park Hotel Москва Пражская #маринс парк отель москва пражская #еда

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carpetbug · 5 months ago

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La Llorona (3.2k)

read below or on ao3 • [tw: attempted drowning]

“It was true that he didn’t remember when he learned to swim, but he did remember his mother teaching him. That was a big part of why he was quickly getting tired of the topic matter at hand.”

“I don’t really remember when I learned how to swim,” Adrien shrugged, chin resting on his right hand as he passed the few remaining minutes of class conversing with his friends. Alya’s face turned down into a playful frown at his response, clearly unsatisfied with such a weak answer. Marinette watched the conversation in amusement while mindlessly chewing on a pencil—one already covered in teeth marks. They had all already told their own stories: Nino had been a natural swimmer, Marinette had to take a few years of swimming lessons, and Alya had told some kind of story about almost drowning at a water park with her older sister. Adrien hadn’t been able to follow that one very well.

“You can’t even remember bits and pieces?” she prompted. He felt like he was in some weird interview.

“Maybe you were just born knowing how to do everything, huh?” Nino teased from beside him before poking him with an elbow. He had started the conversation in the first place by mentioning how his little brother Chris had just started swimming lessons. Apparently, Chris was not enjoying them.

Adrien shrugged again, not entirely wanting to try and muster up bygone memories. “Oh, I don’t know, I must have learned at the hotel's pool with Chloe,” he awkwardly explained, trying to string together a story his friends would believe. When he really tried to remember, all he could see was fragmented pictures of his maman in her swimsuit, arms outstretched in a shallow pool that lapped around her waist. He could smell, slightly taste, the chlorine. It was true that he didn’t remember when he learned to swim, but he did remember his mother teaching him. That was a big part of why he was quickly getting tired of the topic matter at hand.

“Ugh, understood. If I had grown up being best friends with that girl I would also try to forget it,” Nino joked, making Alya and Marinette laugh. Adrien copied the sound—he had given up trying to justify Chloe’s place in his life, and even he wasn’t entirely sure she belonged there anymore—but the laugh he let out wasn’t nearly convincing enough.

Three pairs of eyes were immediately on him, stunning him into silence. It was like he had failed some invisible test.

The quiet held for a second too long before they started blurting apologies.

“Shit, dude, I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have said that, I know Chloe’s your friend and—”

“Yeah we didn’t mean to laugh, Adrien, we weren’t thinking.”

Marinette opened her mouth to begin her explanation when Adrien anxiously shut them down. “Guys, guys, it’s okay! I know you guys don’t like Chloe, but I also know you guys respect our friendship. It’s fine, really,” he assured them, squeezing Ninos shoulder comfortingly as he talked. “Anyways—,” he was desperate to get the attention off him “Why is Chris hating swim lessons?”

Nino laughed and began flapping his hands excitedly in the air, the previous tension quickly forgotten. “You’re never going to believe this, he’s scared of ‘La Llorona’.”

“‘The crying woman’? Isn’t she some kind of, like, Mexican folklore story to scare little kids?” Alya questioned, leaning towards her boyfriend enthusiastically.

“That’s exactly what I said! I was like ‘Chris, bro, we live in Paris. She’s all the way in Mexico, busy doing ghost things, no way she’s going to get you.’ But he’s convinced she’s out to find him! I don’t even know where he learned about it,” Nino recounted, laughing as he went. Maybe it was kinda childish to be scared of a ghost in a distant country; but in Chris’s defense, Adrien also felt uneasy about ghosts.

The idea of being haunted made his skin crawl.

“I’ve never heard of her. What’s the folklore?” he asked curiously, interest piqued.

“It’s actually kind of a gruesome story,” Marinette spoke up, but quickly looked like she regretted it as eyes turned to her. She looked down at her hands and fidgeted with the chewed pencil as she continued. “There’s a lot of different versions, but the most common one is a woman fell in love with a wealthy man, had his children, caught him cheating, and drowned their kids out of rage. Then she regretted it and drowned herself out of guilt, leaving her weeping ghost to haunt rivers and streams, crying out for her children. It’s usually used to keep kids away from bodies of water, especially at night. Supposedly if you hear her sobs, she’ll find you, then drown you when she realizes you aren’t her child.” Marinette shivered with the final sentence, clearly recalling something. She combed her fingers through a pigtail and let out a tense giggle. “My grandma goes on trips all over the world. She went to Mexico when I was in kindergarten, then decided to tell me that story when she got back. I was scared of the seine for months, so I can’t really blame Chris.”

“Your parents must have been mad.” Alya smirked.

“My mom definitely was! She was convinced I would never get over it, and I’d have a fear of water all my life. I forgot about it when summer came around and I got to go to the pool.” The girls were talking now, carried away with their own conversation.

Adrien didn’t mind. He was busy mulling over the new story.

“—rien? Adrien!” Nino shook him hard, eyeing him up and down like his friend had done something suspicious. It felt almost invasive, and made Adrien squirm in his seat. “Dude, you’re out of it. What are you thinking about?”

He stopped, and thought for a moment. Then the words got the better of him and before he could stop it the question spilled out. “Do you think she loved them?” Adrien asked, eyes locked with Nino’s.

“Who? The—La Llorona? I mean, I guess she loved her kids. All parents do, right?”

“No, I mean—I mean do you think she did it because she loved them?”

Adrien’s attention turned to the phone in his hand, a notification lighting up his lockscreen. It usually rotated through different pictures he had picked out, but right now it was settled on one of him and his mother. “Do you think she drowned them because she loved them, maybe just too much?”

Before Nino could respond, the bell rang out. Class was over, Adrien needed to go home, and Nino had to take Chris to his swim lesson.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Maman looked so pretty in the pool. The way her hair shined in the sun, and the corners of her mouth wrinkled when she smiled. The clear, bright blue water that stopped at her knees. The thin silver band on her left ring finger reflected the sun brightly, as did the silver feather earrings dangling from her ears. She always wore jewelry. Her green eyes reminded him of the grass that grew beside water in the books she’d read him. It made him happy to have the same green eyes.

Adrien was four years old, right at the age where he was blathering out any words he could, and consciously exploring all the different sensations that came with being alive. But today he had a swimming lesson, which meant listening to his mother.

Emilie stood, merely a foot away on the second step, cooing and trying to coax her living ball of sunshine to dip a foot in the pool. “Adrien, darling, I promise the pool won’t hurt you,” she assured, leaning over and slipping a few fingers into his palm to grasp. He did so tightly, then slowly stepped down onto the first step into the pool. It was cool, almost ticklish, against his skin and thankfully only rose to his shins at this height.

“See!” she smiled, almost purring the words. She pulled her fingers from his grasp, lowered to the bottom step, and splashed the summer water towards her little student. He giggled and shielded his face, though the splash only reached his stomach. “Next step, now.”

Adrien’s laugh caught in his throat. The next step was deep, too deep, but… she was standing right there, lip-glossed smile beaming at him.

She wouldn’t make him go too deep. Maman was safe.

He stepped forward cautiously, missing the tight grip he had on her hand just before, and slowly found his footing. The water now pooled just above his hips, the sloshing waves from their movement gently pulling him this way and that. His arms hovered above the water's surface at his sides, refusing to fall victim to the pool just yet.

“You’re a natural, little minnow!” Emilie cheered, then sucked in her cheeks and pursed her lips to make a kissy face, trying to imitate a fish. Only she looked more like she had bitten into a much too sour lemon, which made Adrien laugh again, even harder this time. His arms dropped slightly and an elbow dipped into the water, making him squeal suddenly.

“It’s cold, Maman!” he whimpered, wanting to retreat back to the shaded table where their towels and pool supplies resided while they swam. Adrien’s gaze was locked over his shoulder on the dry, warm spot a few feet away when Emilie snapped her fingers to get his attention again.

It worked immediately.

“Darling, it’s the perfect temperature. Don’t let the water scare you,” she comforted him, reaching out again to offer a hand to hold. Adrien’s smaller hand took it urgently. “Last step.”

If the previous step had come anywhere close to scary, the last step was utterly daunting. Plunging one foot further into the depths of the water, the surface rose up to his chin. When he tried to lift his other foot it felt rooted to the concrete stair that held him above the water, and he couldn’t find the strength to rip off the bandaid. Thankfully, Emilie had strength to spare for her minnow, and using her free hand she hooked two fingers around his ankle, then sternly pulled it to the final step.

“Ah-ah-ah,” she cooed in her sing-songy voice, hands receding from the young boys’ space again before pushing at the bottom of his chin. His mouth opened to protest but she tilted his head back, letting his golden hair fall and soak up the chlorine-rich water..

Now the water lapped at the edges of his face as he stood, tiptoed, and tilted back. He looked up towards the sky, closing his eyes to block out the harsh sun, and urgently trying not to panic over the water sloshing in his ears. His arms floated in the water at his sides, and he was too aware of the open space where nothing could be grabbed onto. Adrien could hardly hear Emilie, if she was singing her praises at all, but if it was because of his submerged ears or his racing heart he couldn’t tell. After a few seconds—a few too many for small Adrien—she plucked him from the step and placed him on her hip, giving him a moment to rub the water from his hair and ears.

“Wonderful, mon bébé!” She was laughing as she whirled him through the pool, hands tucked under his armpits as they spun in excited circles. “Was that so bad?”

Adrien waited until they stilled to respond. “My ears went under the water,” he muttered, trying to balance in her grasp and holding onto her shoulders. “My eyes were closed, too. I was scared.”

Emilie pouted, maybe trying to give him a sympathetic frown, but it only made him feel smaller. It was the kind of look that a passersby gave a baby throwing a tantrum. “You’re okay,” she assured gently, holding him against her chest and lifting a hand from the water to push a wet strand of golden hair from his forehead. He leaned into the touch of her palm. “When you’re with Maman or Père, you’re always okay.” Their eyes locked and Emilie’s smile dropped. Her left thumb slowly grazed over her ring when she continued. “You know that, right, little minnow?”

The words spilled out before he even knew what he was going to say. “Yes, Maman.”

Yes, he was okay so long as Maman and Papa were there. Mother and Father would always keep him safe.

“Wonderful, darling. Now, let’s try doggy paddling.”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

It had been a grueling hour in the pool, consisting mainly of Adrien clinging either to his mother’s shoulders or the wall of the pool. The doggy paddling had been too scary, treading water was too exhausting, and floating on his back was too overwhelming.

Worst of all, Emilie was starting to get angry. She had even screamed at him when he tried clambering out of the pool.

Adrien hated making Maman angry. Her eyebrows would twitch when she furrowed them together, and she often brought a hand up to pinch the bridge of her nose in frustration. It made him feel stupid, and wrong, like he had broken some rule. Sometimes—though Adrien wouldn’t admit it for many years to come—it made him angry too. Angry enough to want to rip piano keys out of their places. Angry enough to want to destroy things with a single touch.

Angry enough to try and climb out of the pool during a swimming lesson. Which was, of course, unacceptable.

“Honestly, Adrien, you’re behaving like a brat! Are you stupid?” She snapped, top lip pulled back in a snarl, letting her canines shine in the sun. Adrien could feel them closing in on him. Even at her worst, he only wanted her to hold him close. It never really mattered if he was alive or dead when she did it—he just wished she wouldn’t yell.

“I’m scared, M-Maman!” He hiccuped, clinging desperately to the roughly textured wall. It stung the pruning skin of his fingers, threatening to cut his raw fingertips. Adrien didn't notice over his own sobs and wracked breathing.

“Stop crying already!” Emilie lunged forward to rip her son from the wall, ignoring his wails of refusal. He urgently grabbed for the wall as she carried him towards the middle of the water, muttering under her breath. The only things Adrien could pick up was ‘useless fucking kid’ and ‘made you to be better than this’.

The words didn’t fully register in his panic-stricken brain. The only thing he knew for certain was real in that moment was the steady stream of warm tears pouring from his eyes. Until Maman reached out, palm cupping his tear stained cheek, and gently wiped at the droplets clinging to his eyelashes. Adrien’s eyes opened and took her in, eyes half-lidded and eyebrows pressed together. She was as comforting as she was terrifying, which was an intense combination of emotions for four year old Adrien.

“Don’t make me repeat myself again. There’s nothing to be scared of,” she said intensely.

It made the tears stop and hiccups pause—it even took some of his breath away. Adrien’s mother was like a being of pure emotion, raw and untethered, changing at the snap of her fingers. Emilie could play people like a violin, and this was her philosophy when it came to maternal matters.

“Nothing to be scared of,” he whispered in repetition, eyes still glued to hers. His muscles relaxed, and he softened into his mothers hold. Truthfully, Adrien always thought it was much more comfortable once he stopped fighting.

Emilie smiled and nodded, then turned to look at the empty pool around them. Her hair was still radiant in the sun, but now the ends had gotten soggy and knotted as they dipped in and out of the water.

“M-Maman, can we stop now?” Adrien asked softly, unable to stop the trembling pout his lips formed. “Please?”

She blinked. Swallowed, then clicked her tongue against her teeth. It was a nauseating sound. “Only if you can swim, little minnow.” His body froze when her eyes targeted back onto him, his stomach turning when he saw her gaping smile. “Show me how you swim.”

In the blink of an eye, Adrien was forced under the surface, water overtaking his mouth and nose before he even thought to close or cover them. It stung, like a wasp had crawled through his throat and made a nest in his lungs, infesting him from the inside out. He gasped for air, desperate to cool the burning taking hold of his chest, but only inhaled water.

He was screaming, crying, violently thrashing in the water as he tried to breach the surface. The sounds only left his mouth in muted air bubbles, floating past his vision to the surface his body screamed for. But it was useless against the tightly gripped hand around his throat.

Maybe Maman just couldn’t hear him when he was so deep under the water. Maman wouldn’t mean to hurt him.

The water churned against his limbs, thwarting his efforts to kick and paddle back to air. He was quickly losing hope that there was any kind of escape. This is what baby birds who fall from their nest too early must feel like. Weak, defenseless, kicking and screaming and fighting to stay alive in a terrain that only wants them dead.

At least those birds can breathe.

Adrien stopped fighting when fatigue overtook him. His legs went limp and arms crossed his torso, enveloping himself in a tight hug under the water. There was some comfort to be found in that, even in the worst situations. He let the water envelop him, too tired to continue. His muscles eased, repeating the lesson he’d learned just before. Pain and terror are so much more comfortable once you stop trying to fight them.

His eyes closed. His body stopped screaming.

Then it was over.

Fresh air swarmed his lungs, bringing up the chlorinated water he’d swallowed. It tasted like stomach acid and summer.

“My poor little minnow,” Emilie murmured as she sat him on the wall of the pool. He coughed and gagged as she slowly rubbed his back, occasionally raising her hand to pet his soaked, ruffled hair. Her voice—usually spilling over with emotion—was monotone and brief, like she was stating a fact. There was no comfort in her words, only recognition that he was suffering. No apology, no explanation. No loving coos and empty promises of safety. Only a mother and her son.

“I-I couldn’t breathe, why Ma—” he sputtered, coughing and stumbling over the words.

She cut him short.“I already said, Adrien. No more squalling.”

He was quiet. His lungs still ached and his throat felt like it was burning, but his lips remained sealed. Any screams or cries were trapped out of his reach.

“You’re okay, aren’t you? No blood, no bruises. Good as new.” She beamed at him. “Nothing bad happened, darling. Let’s get you toweled off and head inside for lunch. You can learn to swim tomorrow.”

Emilie swam through the pool, leaving Adrien sitting on the edge. He watched her silently as she ascended the steps out of the water and made her way to him, then plucked him from the ground like a feather. He usually loved when Maman would carry him around on her hip. This time he felt like a prisoner of sorts, anchored to her side while his own emotions, thoughts, and wants were cast aside to cater to his warden.

“Yes, Maman.”

#carpetbug writes #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #ml #adrien #adrien agreste #emilie agreste #emilie #la llorona fic #one shot #ml fic #spits this at you and runs away like a scared lizard #sharing my writing makes me so much more anxious than my art for some reason lmao #anyways. hope yall enjoy

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vestaignis · 10 months ago

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Заброшенное судно-отель на Ко Чанге.

Abandoned ship-hotel on Koh Chang.

На побережье острова Ко Чанг, входящего в состав морского национального парка Таиланда расположен крупный туристический комплекс «Koh Chang Grand Lagoona Resort» (60 гектар), изюминкой которого был круизный лайнер The Galaxy (Aunchaleena) в качестве главного здания отеля. Это стометровое судно, перестроенное в гостиницу с 7-мью этажами. Что бы отбуксировать судно-донор для отеля вглубь территории парка, пришлось рыть канал, который потом засыпали. На огромной площади курорта тогда появились фантастической красоты пруды с лотосами, тропические парки, кокосовые рощи, гигантские статуи слонов, водопады и великолепный пляж с белым песочком. На данный же момент комплекс пришел в упадок, но туристов продолжает манить заброшенный лайнер — отель, он даже стал своеобразной достопримечательностью острова, для любителей отдыха в необычных местах. Причины угасания популярности этого места просты: проблемы с транспортной доступностью (придется взять на прокат машину и отправиться вглубь острова) и с самой инфраструктурой на Ко Чанге. А также есть версия, что морской курорт попросту закрыли из-за отсутствия разрешительных документов на строительство в заповедной зоне.

В настоящее время прогуливаясь вдоль пляжа, можно увидеть колоритные лодки-шале и оригинальный административный корпус, расположенный в заросшей лагуне. Несмотря на то, что главный отель курорта совсем в плачевном состоянии, ходят слухи, что часть корпуса еще функционирует, там сдаются номера по бросовой цене. Также сдаются номера в кораблях-шале, правда, былой роскоши там уже нет, но провести несколько ночей любители экзотики и экономии тоже могут. Мало вероятно что "флагман" курорта когда-нибудь восстановят, это слишком нерентабельно.

On the coast of the island of Koh Chang, which is part of the marine national park of Thailand, there is a large tourist complex “Koh Chang Grand Lagoona Resort” (60 hectares), the highlight of which was the cruise ship The Galaxy (Aunchaleena) as the main hotel building. This is a hundred-meter ship, converted into a hotel with 7 floors. In order to tow the donor ship for the hotel deep into the park, they had to dig a canal, which was then filled in. The huge area of the resort then featured fantastically beautiful lotus ponds, tropical parks, coconut groves, giant elephant statues, waterfalls and a magnificent white sand beach.

At the moment, the complex has fallen into disrepair, but tourists continue to be attracted by the abandoned liner - a hotel; it has even become a kind of landmark of the island for those who like to relax in unusual places. The reasons for the fading popularity of this place are simple: problems with transport accessibility (you will have to rent a car and go deep into the island) and with the infrastructure on Koh Chang itself. There is also a version that the seaside resort was simply closed due to the lack of permits for construction in a protected area.

Nowadays, walking along the beach, you can see colorful chalet boats and the original administrative building located in an overgrown lagoon. Despite the fact that the main hotel of the resort is in a very deplorable state, there are rumors that part of the building is still functioning and rooms are being rented out there at a bargain price. Rooms are also available for rent in chalet ships, however, the former luxury is no longer there, but lovers of exoticism and economy can also spend a few nights. It is unlikely that the “flagship” of the resort will ever be restored; it is too unprofitable.

Источник:https://t.me/+hAtkre-p-zI3Njdi, /satang.ru/otel-prizrak, /novate.ru/blogs/030521/58646/,/tursputnik.com/2021/08/zabroshennoe-sudno-otel-v-tayskih-dzhunglyah.html, /www.ixbt.com/live/travel/kak-poddelnyy-kruiznyy-layner-okazalsya-v-dzhunglyah-tailanda.html.

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whitepolaris · 24 days ago

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Some Classic Lake Monsters Encounters

Folklorists Charles E. Brown was an inveterate collector of monster tales. Many of the following stories are derived from his classic work Sea Monsters.

Elkhart Lake

A creature with "big jaws" and "flashing eyes" pulled a fisherman end over end into Elkhart Lake in the mid-1890s.

Lake Mendota

The scales of a sea serpent were found on Lake Mendota's Picnic Point in 1917. That fall, a fisherman angling off the point was startled when a "large snake-like head, with large jaws and blazing eyes" popped up from the depths less than a hundred feet away from where he was standing. And in that same area, a University of Wisconsin coed tanning on a dock reacted with a speed she didn't know she possessed when she turned over to yell at her boyfriend to stop tickling her feet, but instead witnessed the head and neck of a huge serpent whose long tongue was lapping at her toes. Bozho, as the marine anomaly was known locally, had a reputation as a prankster, overturning canoes and piers, chasing sailboats, and scaring swimmers half to death. Back in 1899, a group of ladies had spotted Bozho while they were out boating on the lake. They reported that the serpent's head, which reared some distance out of the water, was ten inches in diameter and that the end of its tail, decorated with two big horns, lashed the water into a frothy foam as the creature dove beneath the waves.

Lake Michigan

During one winter in the late 1990s, Kim, thirtysomething, was riding on a bus near Grant Park in Milwaukee when a movement in Lake Michigan caught her eye. Weaving in and out of broken chunks of ice was a dark object resembling the submerged roof of a Volkswagen Beetle. Kim immediately signaled for the bus to stop. She got off and, despite wearing a skirt and inappropriate shoes, went running through the snow to the water's edge to get a better look. The object appeared to be feeding as it moved farther out from shore.

Lake Monona

In June 1897, Eugene Heath of the Garr-Scott Company fired two rifle shots at a twenty-foot serpent plying the waters of Lake Monona, near Madison. The marine monster may have been responsible for swallowing a swimming dog a few days earlier.

Lake Waubesa

An Illinois resident who went rowing on Lake Waubesa in the 1920s claimed to have seen a serpent "sixty-seventy feet in length and of a dark green color" apparently sunning itself on the surface of the lake. In the same period, a couple swimming off Waubesa Beach were terrified when a creature with glittering eyes surfaced near them.

Lake Kegonsa

A "dragon" was frequently sighted during the 1920s in the waters of Lake Kegonsa, off both Colladay and Williamson points. Unlike the mild-mannered Bozho, this habitué of the deep was characterized as vengeful and destructive.

Pewaukee Lake

In the 1890s, a "huge green thing traveling like a gray streak" and "spouting water" was frequently reported near the resort hotels that at the time dotted the shores of Waukesha County's Pewaukee Lake. One man claimed he'd tried to spear the green leviathan, but his "weapon bounded back as though it had struck a rock or iron plate."

Red Cedar Lake

The famous sea serpent of Red Cedar Lake in Jefferson County was first seen by fishermen in 1891. One witness said it had a "very large head with protuberances like saw teeth on its back." It was fifty feet long.

Rock Lake

Not to be outdone by other Wisconsin lakes, Rock Lake in Jefferson County is the lair of a monster named Rocky. Although he became more benign with age, Rocky started his career much like the vengeful dragon of Lake Kegonsa. It was August 1882 that rowboat racers Ed McKenzie and D. W. Seybert spied what they thought was a floating log. However, as they approached the "log," it suddenly "manifested life," thrusting its "head about three feet out of the water" and opening "it's huge jaws about a foot or more" before diving out of sight. McKenzie screamed in terror as the creature resurfaced near his boat. Seybert yelled, "Strike him with the oar!" But McKenzie, terrified out of his wits, called in desperation to the group onshore. A Captain Wilson, shotgun at the ready, came to the rescue, but by then the monster had vanished, leaving the air "heavy with a most sickening odor."

That was not to be Rocky's only sortie. Passing boaters reported being hissed at by the monster form the rushes near the shore.

#weird wisconsin #type read #long ass read

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deadboystims · 6 months ago

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˗ˏˋ꒰ 🌱 ꒱ ) he / him ┊ billy , 17 ┊ autihd , gay , bpd ⚣

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🦀 ꒱ ) inbox : 3/5 - requests : CLOSED - divider

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🐛 ꒱ ) read rules & blacklist before requesting

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍁 ꒱ ) feel free to claim an anon sign off!

*rules & blacklist under cut ( keep reading ) divider : @kiyaedits

# @deadboybilly @deadboyrbs @ccozies

# do not interact : terfs , kink/nsfw , ddlg & variants , proship & anti-antis , proana/anti-recovery , loli/shotacon , dsmp fans , zoophiles , exclus , radqueer , maps/pedos , procontact harmful para .

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search my page and see if i’ve done a board similar to what u want already! i’ll do requests if it has different/other specific stims for things i’ve already done tho!

my blacklist isn’t a moral judgement on all of these , some i just don’t wanna do

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i won’t do fandom requests

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cymlea · 9 months ago

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Things To Do In Tampa: A Comprehensive Guide to Florida's Gulf Coast

Tampa offers a dynamic and lively experience for visitors, showcasing a myriad of activities on Florida's Gulf Coast.

Florida is renowned for its diverse attractions, and Tampa stands out as a city designed for both entertainment and relaxation. With a captivating blend of historic architecture and modern landmarks, a culture enriched with Cuban and Spanish influences, bustling business districts, and scenic canals, Tampa emerges as a versatile destination that caters to work, exploration, and leisure.

Discover the myriad activities that Tampa has to offer with this comprehensive guide!

Things To Do In Tampa

Despite its vintage charm, Tampa boasts a multicultural atmosphere where historic buildings are being revitalized into vibrant food halls. Immerse yourself in the complete travel experience with our guide to Tampa's diverse offerings.

Discover Marine Life at The Florida Aquarium While in Tampa, Florida, don't miss the opportunity to explore The Florida Aquarium—an expansive 250,000-square-foot facility accredited by the Association of Zoos and Aquariums. As a 501 non-profit organization situated in downtown Tampa, it stands as one of the premier aquariums in the US. Witness a captivating array of sea creatures and immerse yourself in this publicly operated institution.

Location: 701 Channelside Dr, Tampa, FL 33602

Operating Hours: Open daily from 9:30 AM to 5 PM

Admission: $34.45 per person

Uncover Tampa's Past at Henry B. Plant Museum Venture into the historical realm by visiting the Henry B. Plant Museum, housed in the south wing of Plant Hall on the University of Tampa's campus. Located at 401 West Kennedy Boulevard, this museum offers insights into the Victorian lifestyle during turn-of-the-century Florida. Considered a hidden gem, it conveniently sits near hotels and restaurants around the university campus.

Location: 401 W Kennedy Blvd, Tampa, FL 33606

Operating Hours: Tuesday - Sunday from 10 AM to 5 PM (opens at 12 on Sundays)

Experience Artistic Splendor at The Tampa Theatre For a dose of cultural entertainment, make your way to The Tampa Theatre—an exquisite performing arts space in downtown Tampa. Designed by architect John Eberson, this atmospheric theatre-style movie palace hosts a variety of independent and foreign film productions. Treat yourself to a unique cinematic experience in this beautifully preserved landmark.

Location: 711 N Franklin St, Tampa, FL 33602

Operating Hours: Varies by show/screening

Relax Amid Nature at Lettuce Lake Park Nature enthusiasts will find solace in Lettuce Lake Park, a beloved green space in Tampa. Spanning 240 acres, the park offers walking paths, biking trails, and scenic benches for relaxation. Conveniently located on Fletcher Avenue between Interstate 75 and the University of South Florida, Lettuce Lake Park is complemented by the soothing presence of the Hillsborough River, providing a refreshing escape during warm spells.

Address: 6920 E Fletcher Ave, Tampa, FL 33637

Hours: Open daily from 8 AM to 7 PM

Enjoy Live Performances at The Straz Center for the Performing Arts For aficionados of the performing arts, The Straz Center offers a captivating venue for shows, screenings, and live concerts throughout the year. Originally established in 1987 as the Tampa Bay Performing Arts Center and later rebranded in 2009, this beautiful complex is situated in downtown Tampa.

Location: 1010 N Macinnes Pl, Tampa, FL 33602

Operating Hours: Varies by show/screening

Embark on a Splashy Adventure at Adventure Island For a dose of fun in Tampa, look no further than Adventure Island—a conveniently located water park northeast of Tampa, Florida, just across the street from Busch Gardens Tampa Bay. This aquatic haven covers 30 acres and offers water rides, dining options, and various attractions. Many visitors opt for a full trip, combining the thrills of Busch Gardens and Adventure Island.

Location: 10001 McKinley Dr, Tampa, FL 33612

Tickets: $29.99 per person

Experience Thrills at Busch Gardens A must-visit for adrenaline enthusiasts in Tampa, Busch Gardens Tampa Bay is the largest zoo in the region, packed with exhilarating roller coasters and over 12,000 animals. This adventure park seamlessly blends high-caliber rides, adrenaline-pumping thrills, and family-friendly recreation. For a water-themed escapade, explore Busch Gardens' Adventure Island, Tampa's exclusive water park, spanning 30 acres of tropical excitement.

Location: 10165 McKinley Dr, Tampa, FL 33612

Tickets: $84.99 per person

Unwind on the Beautiful Beaches Just a short drive away, Tampa offers access to approximately 35 miles of pristine Gulf of Mexico waters and white sand beaches on the barrier islands of St. Petersburg and Clearwater. Renowned for their exceptional sand quality and environmental preservation, standouts include Fort DeSoto Park, Caladesi Island, and Clearwater Beach. With its undeveloped coastlines, this area imparts a sense of being on a remote island.

Discover the wealth of beaches: Tampa boasts around 35 miles of white sand coastline, providing ample opportunities for relaxation and seaside enjoyment.

Discover the Glazer Children's Museum For families with kids, a visit to the Glazer Children's Museum is a must during their time in Tampa. Boasting around 20 interactive exhibits catering to children of all ages, this family-friendly museum offers an engaging experience.

Location: 110 W Gasparilla Plaza, Tampa, FL 33602

Operating Hours: Tuesday - Sunday from 9:30 AM to 5 PM

Indulge in a Beer Tasting Experience Tampa's brewing legacy dates back to 1896 when the Florida Brewing Company established itself in Ybor City's downtown. While facing challenges due to restrictions and laws, the craft beer scene experienced a resurgence with the establishment of the Tampa Bay Brewing Company a century later.

Diverse Beer Scene: Tampa boasts a thriving brewing culture, with the Florida Brewing Company being a popular choice in Ybor City.

Best Time to Explore Tampa, Florida

Tampa is at its best between September and December, offering a pleasant escape from the oppressive heat and humidity. The breezy conditions of autumn still provide warmth and sunshine, and during these months, hotels often offer enticing deals to attract visitors.

While the peak season for major attractions is from May to August, the weather can be uncomfortably humid. January through April, despite being cooler, tends to be a more expensive period for booking trips.

Optimal Transportation in Tampa

For seamless exploration of Tampa, visitors often find it beneficial to rent a car, especially if planning excursions to Clearwater and St. Pete's beachfront or the artistic enclaves of Sarasota. However, for those intending to stay within downtown or utilize the Telo Line Streetcar, walking or riding may suffice.

Given the residential and widely dispersed nature of the Bay Area, car rental costs, while subject to fluctuations based on supply and peak season factors, are generally reasonable. Commute times may be slightly extended due to the unique driving patterns in the region.

Guide to Tampa's Distinct Neighborhoods

Tampa's allure extends beyond its main attractions, inviting visitors to explore its vibrant neighborhoods that pulse with unique charm.

Hyde Park: Crafted around the time of the first Hillsborough River bridge by railroad magnate Henry B. Plant and Cuban immigrants establishing Ybor City, Hyde Park is a charming area exuding heritage and retro glamour. Nestled by the sea, with leafy tree canopies and early 20th-century brick lanes, Hyde Park features upscale Hyde Park Village, a walkable hub for dining and shopping. To the east, Bayshore Boulevard offers a waterfront promenade for biking and strolling.

Channelside District: Packed with tourist delights, the Channelside District hosts Sparkman Wharf—a riverfront entertainment venue offering microbrews, musical performances, and diverse dining options. The Florida Aquarium, home to over 8,000 species, adds to the district's allure with captivating exhibits on conservation initiatives, coral reefs, and marine life. Dolphin trips and hands-on experiences, like the No Bone Zone habitat, enhance the Channelside District's appeal.

Downtown: A blend of historical and contemporary cultural attractions defines downtown Tampa. Renowned sites such as the Florida Museum of Photographic Arts, the Tampa Museum of Art, and the Glazer Children's Museum cater to art enthusiasts and families alike. The David A. Straz, Jr. Center for the Performing Arts hosts Broadway musicals, opera-ballet performances, and musical events. Corey Hixon Waterfront Park hosts year-round outdoor events, while the Tampa Riverwalk offers a scenic stroll along the Hillsborough River, lined with diverse eateries and bars.

Dining Recommendations in Tampa

The culinary scene in Tampa Bay mirrors its diverse culture, offering indulgent beverages at beachfront bistros and taverns. Visitors can savor iconic Tampa dishes, choosing from an array of options, including haute cuisine, farm-to-table eateries, and delightful seafood and traditional Spanish meals.

Top Breakfast Spots: Samaria Cafe, Nicki's Omelette & Grill, Oxford Exchange Lunch Favorites: Oystercatchers, Ulele, Al's Finger Licking Good Bar-B-Que Dinner Hotspots: Vino E Pasta, On Swann, Wright's Gourmet House Best Bars: M. Bird, Fly Bar, The Orpheum, Bad Monkey

Where To Stay In Tampa, Florida

Tampa Bay offers a diverse range of lodging options, catering to both luxury seekers and those on business or leisure trips. Entertainment abounds, making Tampa an ideal destination for various needs.

Luxury Hotels

The Tampa Edition

Cost: Starting at $709 per night

Address: 500 Channelside Dr., Tampa, 33602

Amenities: Fitness Center, Outdoor Swimming Pool, Garden

Floridan Palace Hotel

Cost: Starting at $299 per night

Address: 905 North Florida Avenue, Tampa, FL 33602

Amenities: Fitness Center, Restaurant

Mid-Tier Hotels

Hyatt Place Downtown Tampa

Cost: Starting at $349 per night

Address: 325 N Florida Avenue, Tampa, 33602

Amenities: Fitness Center, Outdoor Swimming Pool, Restaurant

Hotel South Tampa & Suites

Cost: Starting at $199 per night

Address: 3314 South Dale Mabry, Tampa, FL 33629

Amenities: Swimming Pool, Fitness Center

Budget Hotels

Hilton Garden Inn Tampa East

Cost: Starting at $166 per night

Address: 10309 Highland Manor Drive, Tampa, FL 33610

Amenities: Restaurant, Swimming Pool

Sleep Inn & Suites Tampa South

Cost: Starting at $179 per night

Address: 6231 S Dale Mabry Highway, Tampa, 33611

Amenities: Spa and Wellness Center, Fitness Center

Visiting Tampa: Helpful Tips

Sunpass Convenience: Consider obtaining a Sunpass, a prepaid digital permit for hassle-free highway travel to various destinations.

CityPASS Savings: Opt for the Tampa Bay CityPASS, providing discounted access to the city's premier attractions. Priced at $97 for children and $107 for adults, it offers substantial savings.

Freshwater Caution: Exercise caution when encountering freshwater, especially outside designated swimming springs. Florida's waters are home to over a million alligators, emphasizing the need for vigilance.

A Day Well Spent in Tampa

For those with just 24 hours, Tampa offers a condensed yet fulfilling experience. Explore Downtown Tampa starting with the Glazer Children's and art museums. Next, embark on an adventurous journey at Busch Gardens.

As the evening unfolds, consider a visit to one of the local breweries. Hyde Park beckons with its excellent dining and shopping options, while the Channelside District provides a vibrant backdrop for live performances.

Engage in Unique Activities

Even if water sports aren't your forte, Tampa's outdoor adventures offer compelling reasons to visit. The region boasts a diverse array of outdoor activities to suit various interests.

FAQ

Q: What is Tampa known for? Tampa is renowned for attractions such as the Florida Aquarium, the exhilarating Busch Gardens, the vibrant Ybor City, and being the birthplace of the Cuban sandwich. Additionally, the city is celebrated for its lush gardens, cigar manufacturing heritage, modern museums, fine dining establishments, and picturesque sidewalks.

Q: Is Tampa better than Orlando? Tampa is preferred by beach enthusiasts due to its proximity to the coast and the surrounding Tampa Bay. Orlando, another city in Central Florida, is favored by those who are fans of Universal and Disney attractions.

Q: Is Tampa Riverwalk worth visiting? Absolutely! Tampa Riverwalk is a must-visit attraction, offering a scenic stroll along the Garrison Channel and Hillsborough River. With water-based activities, beachfront restaurants, museums, and year-round festivals, it provides an enriching and enjoyable experience.

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