#Siren!lost silver

[drownedsilverforever]

Here’s siren!lost silver I know he’s a guy but hey, nothing wrong with cross dressing ;3

The base I used for the head and body https://www.deviantart.com/lizeth23/art/MerMay-F2U-Base-847885374 inspo for the fins https://www.pinterest.com/pin/dibujos-bonitos--8725793022080355/ vocal range headcanons? From lowest vocal range to highest vocal range anyone?

[twistedwonderlandimaginesblog]

In the spirit of the new year coming upon us, I'd like to request MC sharing the tradition of a New years kiss with their crush (Idia, Sebek, Malleus, Jack, and Azul)

Remember to take it easy, btw! Happy holidays and happy new year!

(happy new year! only a week late)

Azul Ashengrotto:

You felt lucky that you even managed to pull Azul away for a private moment together. New Years had proven a busy day for a business man, and each year it seemed the specials he thought up drew in larger and larger crowds. He had employees to keep an eye on things but he hardly trusted things he couldn’t see and touch himself, meaning he had been on the floor the entire night while you tried to enjoy the party with friends. You were not going to be denied your kiss even if Azul lost a singular dollar due and your beckoning was like a siren’s call, especially knowing what midnight might bring. The following day would be even busier for him so Azul knows it’s better to indulge you, lips gliding against yours as the fireworks pop and crackle loudly outside. Perhaps he’d never admit that he did miss you even while making money to keep you both comfortable, but getting to start off this new year with you at his side was certainly priceless.

Idia Shroud:

This was an ultra-important missable achievement, if he failed now he may never get another chance. Idia thinks he’s locked in, with all his stat-raising items on him, though he wished there was one that would increase his confidence more. He sees the countdown begin and his body tenses, your body leaning against his as you admire the perfect camera angles the reporter is getting. You looked to him with a smile so angelic it could’ve made him burst into flames but before that, before you could even say ‘Happy New Year!’ as you intended, he rushed to press his lips against yours. He might’ve been a little early on the countdown but it didn’t seem to bother you, who only giggled into the kiss as your new year started off perfectly.

Jack Howl:

It just made sense to him to spend the new year together. You were his person which meant he wanted to spend every single day together with you, and starting his year by your side would be the ideal. He’s not thinking of the kiss tradition, thinking of the goals he wants to strive toward and questioning you about your own. It’s not until you see others kissing around you that the idea is sparked, sending him a sly smile as he nervously avoided looking at the other couples. You give him the perfect distraction by placing a hand on his cheek, turning him to face you and gently pressing your lips to his to truly start the new year off in the best way possible.

Malleus Draconia:

Malleus thought human traditions were always a little silly, this one especially so. Wouldn’t it get tiring celebrating so many different new years? How did they always manage to find something new to promise themselves? Shouldn’t most goals be continuous? You’re more than happy to address his questions as you loved when he showed an interest, specifically in you. You teased him about your own personal goals, telling him you’d let him know as soon as the year rolled over, while Malleus smirked at your response. He had come up with his own resolution, and as the countdown began, he solidified the idea in his head to the point of no return. To start the year off right he held your face in his, stealing your full attention and having you all to himself as he kissed you.

Sebek Zigvolt:

Sebek had been on edge since the festivities began, hardly allowing himself to be distracted from his duties. You couldn’t blame him for keeping a close eye on those who drifted close to their future king, knowing that an assassin could strike in the blink of an eye. You do manage to convince him to come with you to a lovely spot where the fireworks would burst in the sky, practically above your heads, by saying Silver had promised to stick to Malleus like glue until Sebek returned; batting your eyes at him continued to work wonders for you as well. You have his full attention as you excitedly tell him about all your experiences at the festival below, nodding his head along as his fingers laced with yours. He kissed your hand first, wishing to share a few promises for the future, but the fireworks were far too loud, so a gentle kiss on the lips would have to suffice for now.

[ataliagold]

you're the only one who knows, you slow it down

For @astrangersummer week 13 prompts 'cat' and 'farmers market'. Title from Look After You by The Fray. And yes, I watched A Quiet Place Day One and was obsessed with Frodo...

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Rating: T

W/C: 1791

Tags: Modern AU, No Upside Down, First Meeting, Steve has PTSD, Steve has a service cat, Steve wears glasses, Eddie Munson is a sweetheart, panic attacks, Eddie takes care of Steve, referenced child abuse, autistic Steve (not overly relevant here but still)

Summary: Eddie's at a farmers market when he's approached by a very determined black and white cat. On a whim, he follows him to a young man having a panic attack in the woods.

___

Eddie’s browsing the little jewelry stand at the far end of the Farmer’s Market, glancing over hand-made leather bracelets and cheap silver rings while the old lady behind the table watches him hopefully. Over a blare of emergency sirens from the street in the distance he can hear Wayne behind him bartering with someone who’s wanting to buy one of his plants, the plants Eddie had been roped into carting there from the van in boxes that were too fucking heavy and he’d been drenched in sweat almost immediately under the summer sun.

He looks up briefly, regrets it immediately because the vendor’s eyes light up and fuck now he’s gotta buy something…

He’s interrupted by something soft brushing against his ankle.

Hanging up a black leather band, he looks down. Blinks a few times, confused.

There’s a black and white cat butting its little head against his leg. The cat stares back up at him with yellow eyes, wide and imploring.

“Uh….hi?” Eddie says, moving his leg away a bit because he doesn’t really do cats, has never interacted with them much before to be fair, other than the feral ones that hung around the trash in the trailer park and those weren’t exactly…friendly.

This guy is far cuter and cleaner than those cats ever were, though.

He’s got a maroon collar with a tag attached, and a red harness with a loose lead trailing behind him.

The cat steps closer to Eddie. Insistent now, shoving his face into his ankle again, then lets out an imploring meow.

“Where’s your owner?” Eddie asks to no one in particular, swiveling his head and surveying his surroundings. He sees fruit stands with enormous oranges, a honey stall, someone selling flowers off to his right, a small crowd browsing the wares but no one that looks like they’ve lost a black and white cat.

The cat meows again.

Eddie stoops down, gingerly reaches for its collar, reads the tiny writing on the tag in hope of some owners’ details.

Frodo - service cat

And Eddie had heard of service dogs, sure, but a cat?

A great name though, he admits.

He squints at the phone number etched below the name. Pulls out his phone, dials it. All the while Frodo meows at him, slams his head more forcefully into Eddie’s shin.

The call rings out to a voicemail, a guy called Steve in the message.

Eddie hangs up. Sighs, carefully pats the cat with a single finger on his head.

“You’re kinda cute, huh?” Eddie murmurs. “Someone’s missing you, for sure.”

He stands up again. Frodo moves several steps away, stops, stares back at him.

A lightbulb goes off in Eddie’s head.

He takes a step towards the cat. Frodo squeaks out a noise that seems happy to Eddie, and he steps even closer.

Frodo turns tail and trots off away from the market, and Eddie follows, Frodo glancing back every now and then to check Eddie’s still with him.

And so, the cat leads him towards a little copse of trees on the far side of the park. It’s pretty deserted out here, with most people busy browsing the market instead of taking their morning walks.

But as they get closer to the clearing in the middle of the trees, Eddie hears it.

Light gasps, panicked breathing, someone trying to suck in oxygen that just won’t come.

He quickens his step towards it. Frodo speeds up too, breaking away from Eddie now and bounding into the trees.

There’s a young man sitting in the dirt.

His knees are pulled to his chest, arms wrapped tightly around them, and he’s rocking back and forth a little. His cheeks are wet, eyes clenched shut behind crooked glasses.

Eddie drops to his knees beside the man, hand hovering above his shoulder, not sure whether or not to touch because he knew a thing or two about panic attacks, knew this was what he was seeing, didn’t want to frighten the man and make it worse…

Frodo presses himself up against the man’s side, trills quietly. The man shifts, blindly reaches for the cat, unfolds himself a bit and hauls the animal into his lap, burying his face in warm fur.

“…hi,” Eddie says quietly, barely audible, clears his throat and tries again. “Hi. I’m…I’m Eddie.”

The man goes still. Freezes, noticing Eddie for the first time. He peeks out from behind Frodo’s head, blinking up at Eddie, eyes red and sore-looking but also honey-brown and soft. He’s got moles dotted across his cheeks, hair long and mussed and falling across his face.

He’s fucking gorgeous, Eddie’s brain supplies.

He forces that thought away – it’s not exactly helpful right now.

“Are you Steve?” Eddie guesses.

A small, singular nod.

“I found your cat,” Eddie supplies. “Or…he found me, I guess. Led me here. He’s pretty clever.”

“He’s the b-best,” Steve croaks, his voice raspy and rough and broken. “He’s a service cat. But you can…you can go, s’fine.”

Eddie frowns, shakes his head. “I’m thinking he came and got me for a reason, huh?”

Steve looks away, shrugs.

Eddie waits, gives him time to answer, but Steve doesn’t speak again. He hugs his cat to his chest, still lightly trembling all over.

“How about…I sit here for a few minutes, and you take some deep breaths, huh? I’m thinking you’ve had a panic attack, and those suck – trust me, I know – but you need to get your breath back, ok?” Eddie reaches for Steve, hand ghosting over his shoulder now.

Steve flinches lightly, but doesn’t pull away.

Frodo purrs away calmly in Steve’s lap, letting his owner squeeze him close.

And Eddie sits, and waits.

He remembers his own panic attacks as a kid, after he’d wake up from a nightmare about his dad – where he swore the stench of alcohol was in his room, when his dad was surely just outside his bedroom door, all tension wound tight and clenched fists and ready to unleash a barrage of abuse at him. His uncle Wayne would step quietly into his room, would gather him up and hold him tight, would talk to him quietly about everything and nothing all at once until Eddie drifted peacefully back to sleep.

As the minutes tick by, Eddie starts to talk.

“I don’t know much about cats, but yours is pretty clever,” he murmurs, rubbing circles across Steve’s broad back, over the soft yellow sweater he was wearing. “He came right up to me, no idea why he picked me out of a crowd of nice old ladies at the market, but he wasn’t taking no for an answer, he insisted on getting me to you. I guess that’s his job, right? Just like how some service dogs are trained to go and get someone if their owner is in trouble? I used to have this neighbour, this girl called Max, she had some disabilities after a car accident, and she had a dog who was trained to do that sort of stuff. But you’ve got Frodo.”

Steve’s breathing is evening out, his shoulders untensing slightly as Eddie speaks.

“Badass name, by the way,” Eddie continues, chuckling a little. “I’m guessing you’re a Lord of the Rings fan, then. So am I. In fact, it’s probably my favourite -”

“Not a fan,” Steve mumbles.

Eddie pauses mid-sentence. “…oh,” he finishes lamely.

Steve shifts a little, the tiniest smile twitching at his lips.

Eddie’s heart thumps in his chest at the sight of it.

“This kid I used to babysit, his name’s Dustin, he picked the name,” Steve clarifies, his voice a little clearer now, a little less forced. “It just kinda stuck.”

“It suits him,” Eddie assures him, reaching a hand out to the cat. He quickly snatches it back, remembers Max telling him over and over that you weren’t supposed to pat a service animal when they’re working. “Sorry,” he says quickly, “I didn’t mean to…well. He’s working.”

Steve smiles, wider now.

Eddie blinks slowly at him, feeling stupid and warm and weak for this man.

“You can pat him,” Steve says quietly, just above a whisper. He unfolds his legs, loosens his grip on Frodo just a little, giving Eddie room to reach across to the cat.

Eddie grins as his fingers find soft fur. He traces over Frodo’s head and the cat purrs louder, pressing back into his hand.

Steve watches, tears drying on his cheeks. He lifts his glasses, rubs at his eyes, then straightens them again.

“It was the sirens,” he says, a little choked up still.

Eddie nods slowly, continues to pat Frodo.

“Over on Main Street, I think, I was walking past and they were really loud, and then more and more started and then there was that fire engine too and all the flashing lights and…”

Eddie heard it earlier, too. Some crash near the park, the ladies at the market had gossiped amongst themselves.

“…and I tried to move away, but they were everywhere so I went into the trees and that was a little better but I could still hear them, and I know it’s fucking stupid but some stuff happened to me a few years back and now every time I hear them…” Steve trails off, snaps his mouth shut. Runs his hand rhythmically down Frodo’s back, almost meditatively now. “Sorry. S’dumb. But…I’m ok now, I think.”

Eddie splays his free hand across Steve’s back. Thinks about how much he’d like to pull Steve to his side, bundle him close, wrap himself around him…but they’ve only just fucking met.

He needs to calm down.

“It isn’t dumb,” Eddie insists gently, “I used to get them too. Panic attacks. I get it, ok? I’m just glad you’re ok now.”

Steve smiles at him, wobbly and weak but there.

“Thanks,” he says softly, “for following Frodo. And for…staying.”

Eddie returns his smile. Reaches for the man’s hand, clasps it, helps him to shaky feet.

Steve doesn’t let go of his hand.

They linger there, under the shade of the red maple trees, neither saying anything for a long moment.

Frodo sits at their feet. Blinks up at them, meows eventually.

Steve picks up Frodo’s lead, one hand still in Eddie’s, fiddles with the red canvas cord.

Eddie’s heart beats faster.

“Do you…wanna come and look around the stalls?” he asks quietly, rubbing the back of his neck with the hand not held securely in Steve’s, thinks he’d be happy if he could never use that hand again, so long as Steve kept a hold of it.

Steve smiles again, bright as the sun, and nods.

Slowly, he follows Eddie out of the clearing and back into the light of the day.

___

[celaenaeiln]

Dick Grayson's talent for manipulation literally brings the world to its knees.

Part 1 post

My absolute favorite trait about Dick aside from his craziness is his ability to control every single person in existence. The best part is, he's so clever in the way that he does it that people almost never notice.

Bart Allen

"Oh! Ahh..you're trying to get my DNA sample. You need my spit! Ha! That's such a Dick Grayson thing to do."

Bart knows!! Dick's brilliantly sly okay. Honey catches more flies that vinegar? He takes it so far that breaks he the ceiling with it because by the time he's done, people don't even know they've been manipulated. And if they do, then what can they do about it? He always wins.

With friends and family he does it to make them feel better without being so overt and discomforting them.

Justice League: Road to Dark Crisis

Jon came to him when he was feeling lost and upset and Dick set up the perfect conditions to encourage him and pick him up. He's just so good at doing what he's doing but he does it for all the right reasons.

But the extent Dick can go trick and manipulate someone is off the charts. A virtuoso.

In a Titans comic, Dick literally spent MONTHS acting depressed and weak after Donna, Wally, and Garth were kidnapped to another dimension by a villain just so he could trick the villain into thinking that his career was over and bring him into the same dimension so Dick could take him down.

He fooled everyone.

Teen Titans: The Silver Age TBP 2 Part #1

"Batman taught me how to be a totally convincing actor! So if the only way you could send me here with your ring was if I filled my brain with evil thoughts, I just faked it! My facial expression was pure evil-but my mind remained pure good." MONTHS.

He planned, pretended, and calculated every single fiber of his own mind and body until the whole world was fooled by his acting. He tricked an interdimensional being who had psychic access. That means he was so extraordinarily manipulative, he can control his own thoughts inside his head to trick someone else. Voldemort's legilimens has nothing on Dick's talent.

Like Bart, sometimes his allies are aware of this like with Selina-

Gotham City Sirens Issue #23

Selina's literally having a mental breakdown trying not to fall for Dick's manipulation and tricks.

But even if they know he's manipulating them, they still are forced to fall for it anyway.

Gotham City Sirens Issue #23

"Damn it."

Like a goldilocks mad scientist - he does it just right.

His acting is just so on point that he outschemes the schemer.

When the Crime Syndicate (Superwoman, Ultraman, Owlman, Power ring, etc) arrive on Earth to take it over when Dick is Batman, Dick needs to do something fast. But to make things worse, there's a being that's so powerful, that both the Crime Syndicate and Justice League combined have a snowball's chance in hell of defeating him.

So what does Dick do? He runs the game.

Justice League of America (2006) Issue #52

Justice League of America (2006) Issue #52

"Of course he had a plan the whole time. He's Batman. He always has a plan."

Justice League of America (2006) Issue #52

He tricks everyone.

Justice League of America (2006) Issue #52

And in the end, the Justice League wins and Dick saves the world.

Justice League of America (2006) Issue #52

I love how they characterized Owlman as a snake because that would make Dick a mongoose since mongoose eats snakes. And do you know what Mongoose represent in folklore? Action, adventure, boldness, fearlessness, impulsiveness, independence, optimism, rebellion, resistance, resourcefulness, speed, adaptation, agility, quickness, intelligence and wit. All characteristics that define him.

He plays the world like a chessboard, always five steps ahead.

He always has an ace hidden up his sleeve.

His thoughts are always masked behind a disarming smile.

He has mastered the art of manipulation.

And that's while he's outright fighting. His subtlety is just so seductive.

Take a look at the way he smoothly evades answering in this panel -

Grayson Issue #9

He's so smooth. She's constantly on the watch but she instantly fell head over heels for his charms in a half a heartbeat, that's just how good he is.

Grayson Issue #10

He's a master manipulator who knows exactly what to say and how to act to always end up winning.

It's seriously such a shame that one of his greatest skills and talents isn't talked about more because this man?! Flawless.

He's the spy everyone on TV wishes they could be. He's the type of spy people read about in history books and marvel at the ease, grace, and legendary story he leaves behind. He's the spy that everyone knows and dreams of in their fantasies.

Nightwing (2016)

And oh how they so are.

He can just get people to do whatever he wants.

There's a reason why Batman's only contingency plan against Nightwing is "Let's hope he fucks up." Because with his intelligence, skill, power, charisma, and raw talent - he's goddamn unstoppable.

[sonic-au-collision]

SONIC AU COLLISION: WORLD MAP [VERSION 1]

(aka the Round 1 Bracket)

Welcome aboard as we travel across the multiverse in our very first AU Collision. (Disclaimer: No AUs were harmed in the colliding of these worlds /silly). I cannot thank you all enough for submitting an AU, spreading the world, and overall just joining in for the fun.

Reminder: The deadline for any changes to the image, description, etc. will be Friday, November 15, at 7 PM PST

Polls will be released on Sunday, November 17, at 5 AM PST

Each AU and their respective creators are listed below the cut. A closer look at the bracket will also be pictured below.

LEFT SIDE:

RECOIL by @transzsonix & @lazydayslivin VS Broken Illusions AU by @nb-hedgewolf

Neo Badnik Empire by @midnightbadnik VS Time Twins AU by @libelelle

Imposter Swap AU by @sonlc & @transgendermilesprower VS Delirium!AU by @hunniegl4zed

Sonic HSR AU by @fleetwaydarksonic VS Mechanical Error by @chipistotallysane

The Lost Descent by @novurxge VS Lost and Found by @midnightshard06

Sonic Re:Scale by @taffydragondraws VS Vampire AU by @kingprinceleo

Chuck's Pizzareia AU by @majesticn3wt VS Accidentally Organicized AU by @lunaledragonet

Sonic Murder Drones AU by @silvers-starrway & @cherbearsz VS The Unshakable Bond by @floxy-offical & @the-sky-queen

No Strings Attached by @nostringsattachedau VS Infested by @flightyalrighty

The Kelpie: A Folklore AU by @scrunglepaws VS Resurrected AU by @superscourge

Cyborg Cream AU by @averiesmiles VS Manufactured Malice AU by @pretzlforpresident

Silver's Parent AU by @fleetway1900 VS Light and Shadow by @sparksssss

Live & Learn AU by @head---ache VS Dadpio AU by @retrocandyfloss

Interstellar AU by @interstellar-au VS Hedgehog University by @hedgehog-university-au

Monsters vs Aliens by @weirdozjunkary VS The Legend of Blaze by @girlsonic

Corrupted AU by @wereh0gz VS Enchanted by @sparkles-rule-4eva

RIGHT SIDE:

Chilidog Vendor Adventures by @i-am-zeledoxus VS Crystal Eyes (Crystallize) AU by @nomx2chomp

Sonic Icebound by @sonic-wildfire VS Dark Boom by @teamxdark

SASS Fusion AU by @mstormcloud VS Sonic Ghost Hunters AU by @sharks3ye

Heart of Chaos by @hyper-cryptic VS Flowers In Bloom by @emioliravioli

Shadow Barbie AU by @curetapwater VS Descendants by @a-dream-journalist

Starry by @cometstarrysonic VS Turning Tides by @lightninghikaru

Bioswap by @finalshockdown VS Egghogs AU by @themetalvirus

Life Series AU by @karma-creations VS Fullmetal Alchemist AU by @halloweencatsart

Sonic Cowboy AU by @napstabl00k VS Triple Stars by @triple-starsss

Sol Sonic by @kittydoremi VS Three Moons AU by @eclipsed-jester

Sonic Freak Show by @estellardreams VS Slumbering Wage by @yu-melon

We Have The Sky by @niko-jpeg VS Black Arms Sonic Eclipse Version by @cattyanon

Sidekick Sonic AU by @raihanijulie VS Siren's Call AU by @hevs-dreamworld

Inkwell AU by @xx-disco-inferno-xx VS Robotnik Manor by @taylanix

Lacersha AU by @heirorage VS Sonic: The Bad Guys by @thefakehedgehogaroundhere & KitsunamiFennec

Whispering Flames by @askmistaketalesurgesans VS The Chaos Project by @starzdeath

ignore the random lines <3

[yumeboshi]

hi yume congrats on your follower event, you deserve each one !! <3 can i please order a dragonfruit champagne sundae HEHE 🧚🏻‍♀️

❝ THANK YOU FOR YOUR ORDER、@justblades .ᐟ ⟡ HERE IS YOUR RECEIPT FROM CAFÉ YUME ⟡

𐙚DRAGONFRUIT CHAMPAGNE SUNDAE：sends you right into ‘paradise’!

𐙚 dish desc。．a drunk date gone unexpectedly wrong?

．。𝜗𝜚 labels。smutty, drunk, engaged in Sunday and not yet with blade, im sorry if you were disappointed dhil was not here because of the dragon label (I really can’t write him well lolol i hope I compensated with blade & chicken boy) MINORS DNI

．。𝜗𝜚 ingredients。sunday and blade

#SྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིUNDAY

A FANCY dinner in the Reverie’s most expensive restaurant is nothing but a part of SUNDAY’s “casual date” plan.

he’s a refined man, and a gentleman at that- he knows all the right things to do to swoon you. he knows how to make you flush, he knows just exactly when you expected a kiss from him. and of course, he knows what to say to make you fall over yourself, as if he has the entire script of your dialogue in his hands. things like this are so easy for him to do, and his plans always work out because of how expertly he steers you around.

unfortunately, a possibility he did not foresee was this— a drunk you, wasted and tipsy and giggling at his ‘funny chicken wings—‘ all the while carelessly leaning into him and basically being so difficult. it was difficult for him to restrain the heat that slowly pulses through his entire body when you sloppily say daring things your shy self won’t ever dare say when sober.

“sweetheart, please— we’re in a public area.” he gently tells you at first, trying to recover you back to your original state— although it’s just futile attempts of him trying to make you sit upright and not leaning into his chest because it makes him hot and hard to breathe.

“no we’re noooot, people aren’t around….” you slur, batting your eyes up at him sleepily with an attractive little smile lit up by the dim candles. and lord, he feels tricked. he feels like he’s lost to you for some reason- the way your sleepy gaze and your soft voice pulls on his restraints deceptively gently like a siren’s call- he’s glad the area is dim and people aren’t around, because the head of the oak family not knowing what to do with his evident blush across his face would give away how little control he actually has over himself.

“don’t do that,” he reprimands you. his eyes are blazing with a dark flame that’s far too intense for you to take in-

but your sluggish brain does not register anything- you only giggle and swat his arm that’s warningly on your own. “or else what?” you hiccup with a grin.

lavish silver plates clatter and fall to the ground rhythmically with your loud gasps when sunday’s cock thrusts violently into you once more, a lewd slap echoing across the embarrassingly empty restaurant— chest pressed firmly against your table while you hold onto the smooth sides to barely hang on. “—s-slow down,” you’d plead to him- helplessly dangling to the silky tablecloth, to no avail, since it slips out of your grasps easily when he pounds into you with dangerous speed.

“oh? you seemed keen to tease me earlier. are you already sober, angel?” he slows to talk to you in condescension, but when you try to tell him that the alcohol made you do that— he only picks up the pace, escalating your words into incoherent pleas of release-

“saying such dirty little words in a lovely restaurant. do I have to fuck in some manners into your pretty head?” with another violent thrust and a groan, he drags himself out against your slit to coat it with wet fluids that trickle down your sides to spill all over the table.

yes, he thinks it’s deceptive, the way your pussy struggles to take in his load, the way you mewl and squeal his name for more, drunk and needy— the way your ass moves so lewdly with the rhythm of his thrusts, skin trembling. this is sin, he knows, but you are just too beautiful for him to stop. maybe he will have to feed you more purposeful alcohol when you’re sober again, because fuck, how could you be even more obscenely seductive in this state?

#BྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིLADE

BLADE doesn’t know how to react— because his only recent alcohol experience is when he occasionally joined kafka for wine- and the woman showed no signs of being drunk at all.

but when he sees you- subdued to a giggling tipsy mess, his mind draws a blank. What was he supposed to do? he calls your name out briefly, then realized you were too busy burying yourself in his arms like a cat, smiling dreamily at him while telling him his eyes look so pretty today.

he doesn’t like the way his chest tightens up when you say that. he doesn’t like the way he feels so out of control as if the mara is actually taking him over- guiding his hands to tighten around your waist, possessive touches that make you squeal.

“stop that,” he mutters, indirectly at you and at himself.

“stop what, bladie?” you ask with a playful kiss on his jaw, which visibly tightens. “oh come on, don’t be so uptight. didn’t you plan this date?” you continue to trip over your words and droop all over his arms like pudding so bad that blade had to press your back against him so you won’t tip over.

he did plan the home date, just by Kafka’s constant teasing. she’d told him that wine was the perfect idea, that they would be able to have a “heartfelt one on one conversation.” he thought that part meant you would be able to be coherent but unfortunately no, now you’re drunk and illogical and basically his entire plan to talk to you seriously about engagement just went downhill.

“we have to talk,” he says directly, although his voice comes out so weird, as if it’s being strangled. the weird heat in his body spreads violently when you turn around to face him with a little lovely smile, eyelashes drooping, hands so sneakily fiddling with the hem of his belt.

“what could you possibly want to talk about right n—ngh!”

your sentence goes unfinished, and the next thing you know, your face is pressed flat against the cushion couch. you can’t see anything at all, but you hear hasty movements and a belt clanking to the floor, and suddenly his cold hands are right on you, veiny fingers tracing the outline of your puffy clit before hooking up the strap of fabric with a finger to tear it easily.

when you continue to beg him for an answer, he shuts you up with his thick cock that wedges its way into your gummy walls, stretching you all so suddenly to make you gasp into the pillows.

“b-blade,” you whine, “-s’ too big.”

“ill make it fit,” he says simply, but the primal groan beneath it lets you know he’s not going to stop until he fits it in.

he buries into you at a cruelly fast pace, too lost in his own euphoria to hear you whimper and sob how much it’s hurting. aeons, why is he doing this just now? the way you clench around him draws out a lengthy groan, leaning against the table to calm himself down from such an arousing sight of glistening moisture soaking his cock nicely.

the cold air tickling your ass disperses quickly with his animalistic thrusts that give you burning heat, fucking out your constant whimpers and squeals that you’re going to cum, and he lets you cum, hastily pounding himself in to relieve the bothersome blistering arousal that spurts all over your walls to paint them his.

now he knows that kafka fucking did plan this out, but he’s not angry. in fact, he is almost thankful she set him up, because good lord, he knows he won’t ever be satisfied until your holes are stuffed full with his cum.

[theother-victoria]

hello, sailor!

SYNOPSIS: all aboard the lady luck and set sail for a new adventure! life on land doesn't satisfy you, so why not take to the seas instead? while working under captain aventurine as the primary nurse onboard, everything you've ever wanted is within your grasp, and yet the mystery surrounding your captain is still there, just short of being solved. just what kind of secrets lie hidden beneath that charming smile and silver tongue?

CHARACTERS: aventurine, topaz, ratio, jade, robin

TAGS: fem coded reader (wearing dresses, makeup, but they/them pronouns still used), mentions of drinking, gambling, harassment toward reader, drowning, numby is a regular piglet in this fic, 23.9k wc (get some snacks and a drink ready for this one), mild angst, some suggestiveness

NOTES: thought my aventurine kissery phase was over then hoyo uploaded the pirate art of him and now its back to square one

special thanks to my pookies @https-sourlimes and @tragedy-of-commons for proofreading this behemoth of a fic! with much love mwah 💋

very late but @lowkeyren hihihi ren!! I got u for secret santa and hope u enjoy this fic!

TAGLIST: @harque, @akutasoda, @hazyue, @gabile18, @khoncore, @moineauz, @mikashisus, @vxnuslogy, @papiliotao, @gl4di0lus

The rolling sea has always beckoned you.

It’s always been there, tucked away in the back of your mind, usually hidden but resurfacing like the corals and lost trinkets at low tide you’d go scavenging for when no one was looking. Conch shells hold the secrets of the ocean that enrapture you for hours on end and you drape yourself in weathered jewelry washed ashore. Dried-up starfish and seashells and multicolored sea glass litter your home, and yet it isn’t enough. These trinkets pile up and gather dust in your home as you chase after what you’re really after- a way out. 

You’ve been surrounded by the sea your entire life, born and raised in this very port town. You grew up hearing stories of lands faraway from your parents and the workers down at the docks. Infamous pirates and honorable seamen alike and their journeys were your bedtime stories as a kid. You never see the same unfamiliar face twice in a place like this and perhaps it’s this ability to come and go as you please that captured your heart from a young age. Appearing and disappearing like an apparition with rumors of your conquests and the freedom a life at sea granted… it was enough to grab your attention as a kid and never let go.

And yet, you’ve never ventured into the open seas. The most you’ve done is swim around at the beach, but you’ve never been able to push further than that. Theoretically, you should’ve been able to leave long before now, but your plans never made it past the first step. You’ve been denied passage aboard ships at every turn for countless reasons, all of them stupider than the last. Eventually, your motivation died down until you resigned yourself to a dull life on land- but the dream never fizzled out completely. Even now, you still stroll along the beach and search for answers. 

Down at the dock, you hear of sailors and pirates alike drunkenly telling tales of sirens and their bewitching songs they waged war against at sea. You wager that the sea’s freedom beckons to you the same way a siren’s song does to them- irresistible, enchanting, and inescapable no matter where you are. 

When work is slow, you find yourself staring out at the sea through the window, just watching as the tides recede and crash onto the shoreline repeatedly. At night, you’d catch yourself at the beach with your feet in the sand and the salty waters lapping at your ankles without any recollection of how you got there. Maybe sleepwalking? But something tells you that’s not the answer. 

But this time, you suddenly find yourself standing in waist-deep water, completely alone and without a sound to be heard. Not even the usual sound of squawking gulls circling overhead can be heard. That’s strange. The harbor is always busy, with goods being transported and people seeking asylum. There’s ships docked and as far as you can tell, it’s as normal of a day as any other. And yet, there’s no life to be seen or heard. No crabs scuttling along the sandy beach, no people strolling along the boardwalk, no shouts of street vendors peddling their wares to passersby. Just you, the sea, and its ever-growing temptation.

You think it’s somewhere around early evening from the position of the sun, but you aren’t sure how long you stare toward the horizon, unblinking. But when you do blink, you see a pirate ship coming into view. She’s quite possibly the most incredible ship you’ve ever seen in your life, with several sails, a sturdy hull, and a flag fluttering proudly atop the mainmast. And she’s heading right toward you. If you swim out further or wait where you are for a while longer, she’ll pass by, giving you the perfect opportunity to sneak onboard. 

You look back one last time before heading further out to sea. You slip below the water. It’s pleasantly warm and you wonder why you’ve never attempted this before.

The siren’s embrace, that is the ocean’s form of freedom, is growing stronger. 

Port towns aren’t known for being the safest, especially those frequented by pirates. Public drunken brawls, looting by particularly greedy pirate crews, lechery, and disturbance of the peace with the occasional count of public indecency, are commonplace almost every night. Usually, you’re able to avoid most of it, but today isn’t your lucky day. 

“Hey, pretty lady! Mind comin’ home-”

Crash!

An empty beer bottle goes flying by, barely missing his head and shattering into bits against the brick wall behind him. He lets out an unusually high-pitched squeak for someone of his size and stares as you storm past, his mouth agape. Another sailor behind him laughs at his plight, to which he spins around and cusses toward his face. You make it out just in time as the first punch is thrown. 

One drunken sailor is more than enough to deal with, you decide. You decide that you’ll take your chances and go past the port as a shortcut back home, even though it’s late. 

It’s silent besides the sloshing of the waves and mostly empty. There’s some burly guards patrolling in front of the more ostentatious pirate ships that spare a glance as you hurry by, but it’s otherwise deserted at this hour. 

Until you approach the end of the harbor where few ships are docked. You hear the faint sounds of a struggle- a punch being thrown, a man’s muffled scream, glass shattering, the wet squelch of a knife sinking into flesh, and the thud of a body hitting the ground. From the shadows, you see two people emerge. A blond man drags someone out by the hair with a knife in hand. Even from here, you can see the dark slick staining the wood. There’s a ship directly in front of him. You assume it belongs- or belonged- to the now-lifeless body being dragged along. The blond looks around, then freezes up upon seeing you. The hand holding the knife tenses at his side and the two of you stay locked in place like that for a bit, daring to see who will make the first move. Shockingly bright neon eyes meet yours and you jolt. You’ve never seen anyone with eyes like his.

But there’s a ship that’s still waiting. You recall that strange dream you had a few nights ago.

… On second thought, perhaps today is your lucky day after all. 

You slowly clap, starting to move forward, and the blond steps back. The knife in his hands, now aimed at you, is a tiny thing. It’s rusted, the blade is most likely dull, and even the butter knife in your kitchen would laugh at it. 

“Congrats on winning. Got any injuries you need patched up?”

No response. You try again. 

“I see those injuries you got from that fight. Those wounds of yours won’t heal overnight. Someone has to be there to ensure they don’t get infected.”

“... You’re a nurse?”

His voice comes out smoother than expected. Amusement and snark drip from the words, thick as honey, like he can’t believe you’re a medical professional. And yet, you can hear the tenseness in his voice and see it in his coiled muscles, ready to spring back into action again. 

You ignore the jab toward you and point toward the winding cobblestone streets that you came from. The sounds of a fight can be heard coming from the town square even out here. 

“Run a practice in town. Certified and everything if you’re real nitpicky and care about my credentials. Though most sailors that come through the door could care less when they’ve got a pretty lady lookin’ over ‘em and are used to amputations for the most minor of infections.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t been snatched up by another pirate crew yet then,” he smugly remarks, voice as smooth as velvet yet concealing a sharp edge.

“Oh, there’ve been attempts alright. Promises of double the booty a normal seaman would receive, the finest quarters second only to the captain, medical supplies taking utmost priority when docking, and many many more. Hah! All nice and cute, but we know that in a few months time, all those promises will have fallen out the window and I’ll be regarded with no less respect than the lowliest seaman onboard.”

He leans back against a wooden post, roughly kicking the man from earlier until his bleeding head is submerged underwater. You spare a glance at the poor soul before looking back at him.

“Got a ship now?”

“... It’s not much, but it’s something to start with.”

He looks behind him and as he does so, the sleeves of his rags shift to reveal the injuries lying beneath. A sharp intake of breath is the only sign you’ve seen them, but his keen ears pick up on it. He tugs his sleeves down and glowers over his shoulder in your direction. 

“You don’t have any medical expertise, do you?” you ask, ignoring his irritation. “Not a good idea to go out conquerin’ the seven seas without a nurse on board. Matter of fact, I doubt you’d even get that far. Probably die off from scurvy or something preventable.”

His silence speaks volumes. You brush past him and set foot onto his stolen ship- little more than a glorified rowboat with a mast and a single sail. It couldn’t even be called a sailboat. 

Still, he won’t go down so easily. He crosses his arms in front of his chest and stares you down behind his thick bangs obscuring his vision.

“And why should I welcome you aboard?”

“Simple. We both get what we want.”

You reach your hand out to him.

“You get a trained, qualified medical professional to treat your wounds, and I get to escape this rinky-dink, backwater port town. A mutually beneficial deal, don’t you agree?”

He racks his mind for an excuse, anything, really, to turn you down. But he can’t come up with anything. The wounds all over his body really do need treatment that he doesn’t have the expertise for. There’s enough room for two people in the boat and he knows you’re smart enough to have realized that by now. 

It’s fine. I’ll just dump them off at the next port and be on my way. Problem solved. 

With no excuse that can fly under your radar, he pushes his irritation down and forces a smile onto his face. He reaches a hand out and it’s just now you notice his ghostly blue fingertips.

… He’s not entirely human, is he?

“Your name?”

“(Name).”

“Welcome aboard, Nurse (Name).”

You brush your thoughts aside and shake his hand. It’s cold. 

“Pleasure, Captain…?”

“Aventurine.”

You squeeze his hand firmly one last time.

“Pleasure to be working with you, Captain Aventurine.”

Captain, huh? He tries the title on for size in his mind as you get settled in, rolling it around on his tongue. 

I could get used to being called that.

Even though he initially promised himself that he’d kick you out at the next port, that never happens. You pass by several ports, and yet you stay onboard. Perhaps it’s because he finds his first treasure alongside you on an island that many have sailed past countless times. The treasure was hiding under everyone’s noses the entire time, both of you managing to uncover it with a bit of wit and a hefty amount of luck. Aventurine supposes part of himself feels indebted to you, much as he hates the sensation. You found your first treasures together and you’ve admittedly been taking good care of his wounds born from years of enslavement. The healing process is coming along slowly but steadily.

Perhaps he’ll let you stay for a bit longer. Until you get your share of this treasure. He gives credit where credit is due, at least.

“I can’t believe this has been here this whole time,” you say as the treasure chest is finally unearthed. Aventurine sets the shovel down, and on the count of three, you lift it out to go through its contents.  It’s no sizable amount of loot by any means, but it’s not half-bad for your first haul. Some gemstones that are admittedly rather small, jewelry, a few rusted cutlasses that with some elbow grease, could be restored to their former state, and some golden coins from a bygone era.

You hold some gold chains up in front of him, as if seeing what he’d look like with them on. He casts a glance down and shakes his head in disapproval. 

“I know, too gaudy, right?” you ask as you set them back into the chest. He holds up a handful of uncut diamonds, all of varying sizes, and watches as they twinkle in the sunlight. “At least we can pawn ‘em off.”

“I know someone who can fetch us a good price for them. You won’t have to worry about that,” he responds as he lets the diamonds slip back into the chest through his fingers like fat, glistening raindrops. Diamonds are almost worthless on their own, but if he sends them to a jeweler to be cut and polished and perhaps turned into jewelry, then perhaps he can squeeze out a bit of value from them… Or perhaps he should just leave them the way they are, given her hobby for finding true gems in the rough. 

He finds a string of pearls and after a moment for inspection, tosses them over to you.

“Here. Keep these. You’ll look good in ‘em.”

“Then at least keep one or two of those gold chains as well,” you say as you clasp it shut around your neck. Aventurine shakes his head again, laughing snarkily.

“Nah. Not my taste. Not gaudy enough.”

“That’s what I said earli- wait, not gaudy enough?”

He meets your disbelieving expression with an innocent one and a shrug of his shoulders.

“What? A pirate captain’s gotta look the part. The more in-your-face, the better.”

There’s someone already waiting for you when you return to land to pawn off your treasure. According to Aventurine, she owns one of the most prosperous pawn shop chains out there and always fetches a fair price for her customers, so long as they have something equally valuable to give her in return. 

“Just remember to always address her as ‘Lady Bonajade’ and nothing else. She doesn’t take too kindly to those who don’t have manners,” he whispers to you as you weave your way between the crowded streets to the pawn shop’s address. 

“Sounds like an interesting person,” you whisper back. “Should I be scared?”

He scoffs. “Not unless you’re looking to trade something beyond our treasure. Just don’t say anything rash. Let me handle it.”

The pawn shop is tucked away in a corner of town that sees few people. The exterior is surprisingly well-maintained for this part of town and a sign reading “Bonajade Exchange” in elegant violet cursive lettering hangs above the door. You can’t see into the shop’s windows and you can’t hear any activity from inside either. Upon pushing the heavy door open, you’re greeted with the chime above tinkling at your arrival and the scent of heavy perfume cloying your nose. It smells heavily of florals and incense, with a hint of smoke present. The candle flames waver and flicker as the door shuts and you take a moment to look around the shop. The heavy velvet curtains across the windows are drawn, letting only a small sliver of sunlight in. The only other source of lighting is the candles scattered throughout that illuminate the treasures displayed almost carelessly throughout the store. Polished and cut gemstones lie in display cases alongside gold bars and jewelry. Weapons of all sorts are hung along the walls alongside maps and thick, aged atlases on the bookshelves. It’s silent, save for the faint crackling of waxen flames, until an unfamiliar and elegant voice rings out from behind the curtain all the way in the back. 

“Welcome to Bonajade Exchange. Who are you? And what do you seek?”

There’s a moment of silence that follows, as if the speaker has recognized who you are. A candle is lit behind the curtain and you can make out the silhouette of a woman rising to her feet. 

“Oh, it’s you. We meet again, Aventurine.”

There’s a smile in her voice as she brushes the curtain aside and you get your first look at the owner of the shop. A wide-brimmed black hat obscures half of her face with a pale blue eye peeking out at you. She wears a white dress that’s undoubtedly made of silk or some other costly fabric with a dark blue corset. The silver and jade jewelry she wears (is that where she gets her name from?) clink pleasantly against each other alongside her heels, accompanied by a walking stick clicking against the wooden floor as she walks. As she approaches, you can pick up on her perfume of white florals and red wine. 

She comes to a stop and her eyes rake over you both, lingering on you especially. You catch a hint of something in her slitted pupils, like she knows something you don’t.

“I haven’t seen you before. I’m Lady Jade, the owner of this place. Are you a first-time customer to the Bonajade Exchange?”

Her voice is low and almost a whisper that has you hanging onto her every word. It’s as smooth as the silk used for her dress but there’s an almost unnatural hiss to her words, not unlike that of a snake’s. Her voice is also vaguely snake-like too- the way certain words are stretched out, the weirdly sharp pronunciation of consonants clashing with the almost syrupy vowels that tempt you to lower your defenses, the lack of cadence- all make you unconsciously be on guard. Under her chilling gaze, you feel yourself strangely clamming up and it’s all you can do to nod mutely. She hums and leans in closer, examining you head to toe. You feel like an item being offered up for auction yourself right now…

“And who might you be, lovely lady?”

You’re surrounded by ice.

“Nurse (Name)... Lady Bonajade,” you say, hurriedly adding her title at the end after remembering Aventurine’s advice from earlier. She smiles approvingly, a cold and benevolent thing. 

“You’re a good child who knows their manners. Alas, the same couldn’t be said for the man next to you when I first-”

Aventurine coughs. Jade stops talking, but the mirth still lingers in her eyes. A purple snake appears out of seemingly nowhere, winding around her shoulders and up her forearm before rearing its head at you. Its tongue flicks out to taste the air and it leans toward you before she gently pushes its head back. 

“Don’t mind it. It’s too curious for its own good at times,” she says offhandedly. Her baby blue irises drift toward the plain wooden crate sitting behind Aventurine and the beginnings of a smirk tug at the corners of her glossy lips. 

“Have you brought something valuable for me?”

Aventurine beckons you over and after a bit of effort, you pry open the lid to reveal the contents of the treasure you found. Jade strides forward and stops before the crate, examining it with interest.

“Look at that, you’ve finally found your first treasure. Where was it found?”

She raises an eyebrow and a hint of skepticism crosses her expression when Aventurine tells her the spot. 

“That island has been combed through countless times by other pirates. I find your claim hard to believe.”

Atlases and ancient records are brought out and she finally seems to believe him after cross-referencing the embossing on the back of a coin with a legend from that island. Just as you think you’re starting to get a grasp of the situation, a flurry of financial terms fly over your head as they argue over the market value of the items and how much cash you can walk away with today. 

… You’re way out of your comfort zone now. You’re a nurse, not a businessperson, for Aeon’s sake!

An agreement seems to be reached between the two of them. Jade readjusts her gloves and after calling some men over from the back, they begin going through the treasures and separating them into piles. Meanwhile, Aventurine turns his attention back to you.

“Fifty-fifty split.” You make the first move. 

Aventurine scoffs. “Absolutely not. Eighty-twenty at least.”

“Who do you think you are?”

“The captain, of cour-”

“Self-proclaimed,” you retort. “Doesn’t bear much weight with only a crew of two and each of us handling the work of at least five men. Seventy-thirty split since you want to be stingy.”

“Still too little.”

Your eyes narrow in irritation while his smug smirk never wavers.

“Seventy five-twenty five.”

“Fifty five-forty five.”

“Is that really any different from your initial offer of a fifty-fifty split?”

“That’s a five percent increase.”

“Yeah, only five percent.”

Jade chuckles from where she leans against the counter. The treasure has been fully cleared out and taken elsewhere. All that remains is an empty crate on the ground. 

“A five percent increase isn’t as narrow of a margin as you would think it is. Right now, that might not seem like much, but in the future when you start discovering more valuable and rarer treasures…”

She yawns and covers her mouth with a delicate hand. 

“Who knows? You could be looking at a gain of at least a couple thousand.”

Aventurine clicks his tongue and turns back to you. There’s one last offer you have before you give up and walk away. A new life in this town for the time being doesn’t seem too bad… 

“Sixty-forty.”

He stills at your offer. Jade’s eyes are trained on him as she lightly fans herself with a feathered folding fan. Her snake watches the exchange with seemingly keen interest too. 

“... You drive a hard bargain just like Lady Bonajade over here,” he grumbles as he forks over a portion of the credits to you. He leaves part of it on the counter, though.

“You have an innate sense for business,” comments Jade, as you leaf through the wad of bills. “Perhaps you’d like to refine it to its fullest potential?”

“Lady Bonajade, please stop trying to recruit every promising person that walks through your door.”

“It’s not just anyone I set my eyes on. It’s only those with exceptional talent that shine like gems in the rough,” she corrects. Her gaze flicks over to you again.

“Should you ever grow tired of a life at sea and wish to attain everything you desire… you know where to find me. I have branches all over the seven seas. I’ll be patiently waiting.”

Aventurine hurriedly hands you the stack of credits he set aside earlier.

“We’re running low on supplies. I still have business to discuss with her, so why don’t you go and pick them up for me?”

You nod and leave. The door shuts behind you, and Jade’s welcoming demeanor immediately disappears as soon as the shop is plunged into darkness again. Even though the climate is temperate in this stretch of the ocean, the temperature drops considerably. Her snake comes out of hiding and openly hisses at him. This time, she does nothing to reprimand it. 

“I see you’re planning to let a considerable asset go. My best advice for you would be to not.”

Aventurine barks out a laugh and meets her cold tone with one of his own.

“Meddling in my affairs, you damned sea witch-“

“You would do well to learn some manners from them, child,” she all but snaps. “Remember, I don’t give out advice for free. When I do, it’s because I see a great return of my investment in you on the horizon. It would be in your best interest to listen.”

She hisses the last word out and her pet snake does the same. Aventurine’s heart is racing, but he shows no sign of it. 

“A businesswoman through and through,” he remarks dryly. “Don’t think I didn’t notice how you called them an asset.”

“Oh? As if you see them any better than I do. At least I recognize their value. You, on the other hand, have seen them as a nuisance this whole time.”

She sighs. “Such potential headed straight to ruin under your care. It’s quite a waste. Perhaps I should take them under my wing instead, the same way I did with you… Better yet, why don’t I put them through the same refinement process the way I did with you? It’ll be a valuable learning experience for you both.”

Aventurine bristles, and Jade smirks, knowing she has the upper hand now. He’s reminded that just like that, Jade can take away everything he’s fought for. And shape the rest of your life to what she has envisioned.

“You will have them remain as a crewmate upon your ship. Don’t think I’m unaware of how your wounds are coming along. This is in your best interest as much as it is mine. Understood?”

He numbly nods. Jade hums happily and pats him on the shoulder.

“Good child. I expect even greater things from the two of you combined.”

There’s a knock at the front and the door swings open. The sudden brightness of the sun makes him squint, but he can see you standing there with several boxes behind you and some burly men carrying them.

“Captain, I picked up all our supplies. Is there anything else you need me to handle?”

“No, tell them to take them back to the ship. Wait there. I’m almost finished here.”

You nod and the door closes again. Jade turns to him with a knowing look in her eyes as she pulls away from the counter to head to the back again. 

“Captain,” she repeats with a teasing lilt. 

“Stop that,” he grumbles. She checks the time and barely spares him a glance over her shoulder as she retreats behind the curtain again. 

“The time for conversation has ended. Go now. It isn’t polite to keep your partners waiting for any longer than necessary.”

Just as he’s about to head out the door, he’s stopped by her again.

“Don’t disappoint me now, child.”

The only response she gets is the door slamming shut. 

He finds you waiting by the ship as instructed. You don’t even get the chance to ask him what happened as he pushes past you roughly and hoists the sails. Wordlessly, you weigh the anchor and as you set sail, Aventurine finds himself more thankful than ever for your ability to read the room. 

Yes, he barely tolerates you. He never wanted a second person aboard to begin with. But anything is better than catching Jade’s attention. From personal experience, it takes a very special kind of person to stay one move ahead in her games and he knows you aren’t cut from that cloth. Most people aren’t. You’d maybe hold out for a bit with your hidden wit, but you’d inevitably be offered up as a loan in her many dealings, getting passed around from ship to ship as a highly sought-after medic until you’d work yourself into an early grave. Only then would she lose interest and only because your market value would be at zero. 

His injuries have been healing nicely, but he still needs your care. He makes up his mind to let you stay on his ship for the time being. At least until Jade’s interest in you has died out or until his injuries are completely healed. Whichever one comes first. 

And that initial condition is forgotten about too. Jade’s interest in you never wanes and his scars have faded, but that’s not the reason why he lets you stay. You’re quite the handy person, proving yourself to be skilled in tasks outside of medicine. You surprise him with your skill in carpentry and business, although he already knows about the latter thanks to Jade. He’s a horrible cook, but you manage to save yourselves from starvation with your talent in the kitchen. 

Aventurine begrudgingly admits that you’re also fun to be around as time goes on. You’re quite the charming storyteller with a never-ending trove of stories to share. Many of your nights are shared together under the starry skies with a tankard of rum in hand as he listens to your animated and slightly slurred narration of stories you penned earlier that day, or accounts about your former life in a port town and the… interesting experiences you’ve had. 

“Interesting” is putting things lightly, he decides one night after you described how you chased off some unsavory pirates looking to rob your office of valuable medical supplies with a saw and a kitchen knife. And chased off? More like scared half to death.

He also learns that you’re musically gifted as well. He’s off pawning off your latest treasures while you wander around after gathering necessary supplies as per usual. You had agreed to meet back on the ship but he instead finds you standing in front of a music store, eyeing the instruments they have on display in the window.

“You play?” he asks as he approaches your side.

“Yeah,” you respond without taking your eyes off the window. “Was how I made money before I became a certified nurse. I’d take a gig every night at the local tavern and see how much money a crowd of drunk men was willing to throw at me.”

“And?”

“You’d be surprised. If there’s one thing pirates are good at, it’s getting drunk and throwing their earnings at the first pretty thing they see after months at sea.”

“Do you still want to play?”

You tear your eyes away from the display to meet his gaze for a second, before looking away again.

“... Part of me misses it. Just a bit.”

“...”

You leave the store with a skip in your step and the nicest violin they had for sale in your hands, courtesy of your captain. Music now drifts through the ship and sometimes you’ll perform what you’ve been practicing for him after dinner. He’ll clap along, but you notice he never sings or even hums along… 

You have company now as well. Long after you’ve weighed the anchor, you discover a stowaway onboard in the form of a black cat tearing through your food stockpiles. 

“You thief!” you exclaim as you lift it by the scruff and hold it up to eye level. It’s tiny… is it a kitten or just malnourished? It meows pitifully and licks the finger you extend after cautiously sniffing it, a little sliver of pink peeking out and scraping against your skin.

The poor thing is… kind of… cute.

“Oh? What’s this?” comes an irritatingly familiar voice behind you. You spin around to see the familiar visage of your captain smiling down at the cat in your hands with amusement. “A stowaway, eh?”

“I caught this little thief digging through our rations. Captain, what do you suggest we do?”

He raises his eyebrows in feigned shock. A hand comes up to stroke his chin as he thinks.

“A heinous crime,” he proclaims with drama dripping from his words. “A fitting punishment for a crime is needed.”

“Your verdict?”

“The cat can put itself to good use by staying aboard our ship and hunting down mice. Cats are also a symbol of good luck on ships, you know.”

Without further ado, he swoops in and snatches the cat out of your hands. It purrs loudly as he strokes its cheeks. 

Didn’t take much convincing for him to fold, you think as you scratch its chin. It closes its eyes and its ears twitch. 

“Shouldn’t we give it a name? Captain, any suggestions?”

A big mistake on your part.

“How does the name Doubloon sound?”

“... Doubloon?”

Aventurine sets the cat down and tosses a gold coin out there. The cat immediately goes running after it, green eyes wide and pupils dilated. It pounces on the coin and tussles with it, biting on the metal like its prey.

“Never mind. It’s fitting. Doubloon it is.”

It’s nice, he admits. He has a handy crewmate who is capable of all sorts of tasks and can deal with his antics, surprisingly. He decides to let you stay aboard indefinitely now. And the cat is a nice bonus too. 

Your captain isn’t half-bad company either. He’s still just as annoying as the day you met him, even more so if possible since you’ve gotten to know him. He’s an insufferable flirt, mainly toward you, but also toward others when he wants something. He’ll whisper teasing remarks in your (their) ears, all meant to get under your skin and have you (them) right where he wants. Teasing kisses on your (their) hands and cheeks are commonplace. (Who does he see when he kisses and charms those around him? You or them?) He has a raging gambling addiction, perfectly demonstrated by how he splurged on a poker table and a roulette wheel after only a few discovered treasures. (It doesn’t help how you keep losing every time he challenges you for a round or two.) He never opens up about his past even though you’ve all but spilled your life story to him, from childhood till now. He’ll do as he pleases without warning you beforehand, giving you a scare when he decides to bet his life at a casino or venture deeper than he should into a jungle on a hunch that “there’s more hidden treasure to be found just ahead!”

(You later scold him for his suicidal tendencies while bandaging his wounds with more force than necessary, reminding him that you can hold your own in a fight too! Newly acquired treasure sits just outside the door to the infirmary and he’s beaming all the while, so any hope of changing his mind fizzles out.)

But for all his shortcomings, he makes for a good captain. When confronted by a much larger pirate crew that thinks you’re easy pickings, he first pushes you to safety before diving in headfirst. He distributes treasure fairly and recognizes the value you hold as a medic, always ensuring you have more than enough allotted credits to restock on medicine at every port town. You never find yourself wanting for anything and your days are peaceful. You can sleep in as late as you want and you always have plenty to eat and drink. The ship’s supply of alcohol is always well-stocked with your favorites. You’re richer than ever before and money is of no worry to you now.

The ship also gets several upgrades. After every successful treasure hunt, she gets renovated and upgraded. More masts, an additional sail, a shiny new hull, until there was nothing left of its original structure. Aventurine now commands a true beauty of a ship, one fit for a pirate crew… and perhaps one a bit too big for her measly crew. Most of the ship’s space remains empty. But your quarters are spacious, even bigger than your old room on land. It’s filled with trinkets you’ve collected on your journey and fluffy pillows, and directly connected to the infirmary through a door to make things easy. Even a doctor on land would be envious of the conditions, with plenty of medicine stockpiled and clean from floor to ceiling.

“Shouldn’t we give her a name?” you ask as you set sail the day the last of her original foundation is stripped away. He hums and nods.

“You’re right. Got any ideas?”

“You’re the captain of this ship. You should be the one to decide, not me.”

Aventurine strokes his chin and thinks for a bit.

“How about the Lady Luck?”

“... Seriously? You picked something gambling related?”

He lazily shrugs and grins.

“I’m a gambling man through and through, darling. What else were you expecting from the likes of me?”

A single multicolored eye greets you as he tosses and flicks the poker chip he stole a while ago back and forth. The other eye is obscured by a bejeweled eyepatch and you’re the only one who knows the reason why. 

During your first clash against another pirate crew, Aventurine had shielded you from an attack and potentially saved your life. Unfortunately, he couldn’t move away in time and took a knife to the eye. You had worked tirelessly around the clock that night to save his vision, but you weren’t able to. It’s a regret you carry with you at all times now.

“You’re right,” he agrees. When he notices you staring at his eyepatch, he grins.

“Still thinking about old times? Let bygones be bygones now, (Name),” he jokes as he lifts the eyepatch up, revealing the cloudy  iris that indicates his vision loss. His words don’t have the intended effect though, and you wordlessly trail your finger down the scar cutting cleanly through the center of his brow bone to his cheekbone. He tenses a bit at the contact, but relaxes at your gentle touch after a few moments.

“Do you… ever regret what happened that night?”

“No,” he admits without any hesitation. “I may have lost my vision, but I saved my pretty nurse who stitched me back together and fretted over me afterward, and that’s enough to make a man do anything. And… well… for my eyes, let’s just say I’d rather gouge them out most of the time.”

“I won’t let you,” you state bluntly and it’s the way you say it that makes Aventurine laugh.

“Of course you wouldn’t, sweetheart. You’re my voice of reason.”

“But why? Do you not like them?”

Aventurine struggles to find the words for once and he makes a face like he’s tasted something bitter.

“… Not particularly,” he admits. There’s a scowl on his face. “They’re unnatural. Don’t tell me you’ve met another person with eyes like mine?”

“Well, that’s true, but-”

Venom creeps into his voice and his scowl deepens.

“There’s so many rumors swirling out there now. Haven’t you heard?”

“No,” you answer truthfully. Aventurine hopes you never hear any of the horrible rumors surrounding him.

You sigh and push his bangs out the way of his good eye.

“I think they’re quite pretty, actually.”

It’s supposed to be an innocent compliment. They really are pretty. Like the colors of a winter sunset, but more intense.

But to your surprise, your captain flinches at your touch and it sends a shock wave of guilt through you. He never shies away from your touch, instead always seeking it out like a spoiled house cat.

To make matters worse, he gets up and leaves. But before he does, you glimpse the expression in his eyes- guilty and defensive, like a wounded animal. The door to his quarters slams shut behind him and all you can do is stand there, frozen with shock.

“What pretty eyes. Tell me, do they shine in the dark?”

Aventurine leans against his bedroom door and quietly groans. He knows you meant it as a genuine compliment and that it was wrong of him to react the way he did, but he can’t help but wonder if you’d still think of him the same way if you knew about the story behind his eyes. Would you think of him any less? Aventurine doesn’t think he’d be able to bear it if he ever saw you look at him with hate and disgust. Or even worse, if you’d end up like everyone else, waiting for the day those eyes grew dull and lifeless.

… He’d gouge his eyes out and walk the plank if that ever happens.

He can’t stop himself from spiraling until he hears a knock at his door.

“Captain?”

He quietly laughs. You always did have a knack for showing up at the perfect time.

The door cracks open, and he sees you standing there with a worried and guilty expression. It makes him feel even worse. It’s not your fault. You wouldn’t have known because he never told you, and he was hoping it’d stay that way, but it looks like he won’t be able to take the coward’s way out on this one.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I didn’t realize my words would affect you that much.”

“It’s alright. I know you meant it as a compliment. There’s nothing to apologize for.”

You narrow your eyes at him in confusion.

“Then why…?”

Aventurine lets out a resigned sigh and steps out onto the deck again, suddenly finding his quarters stuffy.

“It’s a long story. But would you like to hear?”

“I have plenty of time.”

Sitting side by side on the deck that night, he tells you everything about his past that he’s willing to reveal. Some parts have a clever twist that hides the truth while others have been outright omitted. But it’s the closest version of his backstory that he can share without coming clean, and he’s not ready for that- not yet, at least. 

“I’ve failed in this aspect of being captain,” he admits as silence blankets the air after his story. “I’ve been keeping too many secrets from you.”

“Captain, everyone’s got their own skeletons in their closets. I know and trust you well enough by now to understand that if you’ve been keeping something secret from me, it’s because you’re not ready to share it, and I respect that.”

You sigh and look up at the stars overhead. It’s a perfectly clear night with mild winds and calm seas.

“… It’s just that one day, I do wish you’d open up more. We’ve been with each other since day one and I’ve told you everything there is to know about me. It would be nice to know a bit more about you.”

He swallows nervously.

“And what if doing so makes me a bad person?”

You fix him with that stare that makes his spine tingle uncomfortably. It’s the look you give him whenever you suspect he’s lying during checkups and you’re prying for the real answer.

“… Well, we’re pirates after all. We’re not exactly good people, are we?”

He can’t help the laugh of relief that escapes him.

“Yeah, you’re right. We aren’t.”

Aventurine also likes to… spoil you, to put it lightly. As your finds become more valuable, the amount of credits he spends on you grows. Clothes are a common gift. Thin silks that feel like you’re wearing nothing, plush furs to drape yourself in, heavy down-stuffed winter coats for ventures up north, and frilly dresses that are a better fit for royalty in your eyes are all sent your way. It’s not an uncommon sight to return to the ship and see several men struggling under the weight of all his purchases while you were busy restocking. It gets to a point where you tell him to stop because your closet is overflowing, but he never listens. “It’s the least you deserve,” is what he always says. “Anything for my beloved nurse that has stuck with me through thick and thin!” At least half of the space in your formerly spacious quarters is now occupied by overflow from your closet.

You also get an upgrade to your uniform around this time. Before, it was whatever you had lying around, but now you have a dedicated set of dresses and pinafore aprons, as well as a nurse’s cap to top it all off. 

Cosmetics are also another common gift. He’ll constantly gift you lipsticks with the request to try them all on or expensive perfumes he knows you’ll like. He even gets you an elaborate vanity at one point to store everything. It’s a beautiful, heavy thing made from bronze and requires the strength of four men to carry. There’s a large mirror in the center with ornate molding surrounding it and two smaller ones flanking it. You’ll often see Aventurine leaning against the doorframe through one of them, watching you with a bemused look as you get ready in the morning. 

(That is, until you begin throwing pillows at his head and yelling at him to get out.)

But you begin to notice some strange things about your captain as time goes on. You’ll struggle with a chunk of meat during dinner while his unnaturally sharp teeth will tear through it with ease. They’re especially noticeable whenever he smiles, genuine or not. The large, sharp canines gleam under the sun. At one point, you asked if he purposefully sharpens them, partially as a joke, but also out of genuine curiosity. He had thrown his head back and laughed, but he didn’t answer your question. Sometimes, late at night when he thinks you’re asleep, you’ll peek out from behind the door and see the ghostly fire dancing around his blue fingertips. Aventurine’s outfits get progressively more gaudy and flashy as time goes on, and one thing he adds to his wardrobe rotation are metal nail guards. But even so, you notice his fingernails peeking out from underneath that are better described as claws. Heavy gold chokers and necklaces stacked on top of each other are an obligatory part of his look but on the rare occasion he decides to ditch the weight and opts for a high-collared linen shirt instead, you swear those are scales you see peeking out beneath the slipping collar after a long day. 

But you merely look the other way. As long as Aventurine remains a good captain, you don’t care who- or what- he is. 

It’s around this time you get the third addition to the crew as well. 

You’re docked at a pristine port town, which is a rarity to come by. White houses with blue roofs line the cliff sides. The streets are white too and the stone used to form them has been worn down and smoothed out by years of wear and tear. The warm air smells sweet and salty and vaguely of hay. In the town square, it transforms into something heavier and richer. The flowering trees blooming throughout make the air feel almost thick, while the persistent smell of sunbaked herbs and the local cuisine follow you everywhere from the restaurants and food stalls.

Aventurine is pawning off your latest finds at yet another Bonajade Exchange branch (??? Seriously, how many branches does this pawn shop have?) while you’re enjoying yourself in the town square, having already picked up on supplies and sent them back to the ship. The town comes to life at night. There’s a live band playing on a stage set up a few minutes prior with people dancing and drinks being passed around openly even though you’re in the middle of the town square and not in a tavern. You indulge a little, but eventually decide you’ve had enough for the night after a few too many men were too insistent on buying you a drink even after you’ve declined their offers. 

The rocking motion of the ship would make most people nauseous, especially someone that just had a few drinks, but you’ve long since gotten used to being at sea. Solid ground underfoot feels unfamiliar now and you let out a content sigh once you’re finally back in your quarters. You get settled in for the night as you wait for your captain to return and proudly show off his earnings from a night of gambling, like he always does. A candle is lit, filling your space with warmth and light as you resume reading a book that Aventurine had picked up for you earlier today.

You’re not sure how long you read for, but when you next look up, you’re shocked at how dark it is outside. A quick glance at your candle that’s almost burnt-out on the nightstand tells you it’s been at least a few hours- and yet, no sight or sound of your captain onboard. It’s silent, save for the sloshing of the waves against the hull outside and the crackling of the wick’s flame as it fights for survival. 

Shouldn’t he be back by now?

Curious and concerned, you go searching. Knowing him, he’s either drinking or gambling the night away. With some guidance from the locals, you scout out every tavern and casino in town for him. A quick peek into the windows or door is enough for you- there’s no sign of his blond hair or ostentatious pirate hat anywhere. As an added bonus, catcalls follow you everywhere and it’s enough to make you want to punch your captain in the face when you do see him. 

After a while of running around, you’ve just about had it. You’re exhausted, it’s late, and there’s still no sign of him. Where the hell could he have run off to now?

At your wit’s end now, you look at your surroundings and realize you’ve ended up at a university. You do remember seeing a map of the town the day you docked and recall a university in the northernmost reaches of the town limits. This is probably it. And from the looks of it, it’s not that big. Just a few buildings make up the entire campus.

One thing you notice walking around is a flight of stairs leading up the cliffside to what you assume to be an observatory at the top. It’s not off-limits, so you take your chances and ascend the stairs. It’s a clear night and you’re sure you can get a great view of the town from here. But as you climb, you hear voices drifting down. One of them sounds vaguely like… your captain? 

You pick up the pace. The stairs are steep and uneven in some areas. Some steps are wet from what you presume is rainwater and you almost fall on several occasions. (The things you do for this man! He should be thankful that you’re always there to ensure his sorry ass stays in line.)

You’re not sure what you were expecting once you reached the observatory, but it certainly wasn’t… this. You see your captain alright, but he’s pressed against the railing that’s the only barrier between him and a long fall down to the turbulent waters beneath. A man with violet hair who you’ve never seen before faces him with his back toward you, pressing a gun against Aventurine’s chest. Strangely enough, Aventurine doesn’t look terrified. In fact, he seems to take delight in the precarious balance his life hangs in, even going so far as to press the barrel of the gun closer to his chest with that same taunting grin on his face all the while. His cheeks are flushed, but whether that be from alcohol or… something else is up for debate. You’re already used to his suicidal tendencies, but just seeing his face after the events of today pisses you off even more. 

“Come on, doc. It’ll be worthwhile, I promise. You surely can’t be satisfied in a place like this, am I right?”

“Captain.”

That blissful look on his face vanishes in an instant, replaced by realization and pure fear. The other man turns around and golden eyes meet your ticked-off gaze. You brush the stranger aside and storm over to Aventurine, who looks more terrified of your wrath than any weapon. 

“So this is where you’ve been this entire time. Did you lose track of time or something? Because it’s been hours since you were supposed to return! I was running around town, looking like an idiot trying to find you.”

He holds his hands up like he can defend himself from the onslaught coming his way. You jab your finger at his chest and he pouts as he looks away shamefully. 

“(Name), at least hear me out first!” he whines. When you raise an eyebrow, he points over at the other man, who clicks his tongue and pointedly looks away. 

“I found ourselves a potential third crewmate and was trying to convince him to join! But it doesn’t seem to be working… Care to try your hand?”

“That’s just another way of saying you’re pawning off the hard work to me!” you complain. And yet you humor his demands anyway.

“You are?” 

He hmphs and rolls his eyes. Already, he pisses you off. 

“Dr. Veritas Ratio, teacher and scholar. And you are?”

“Nurse (Name), working aboard the Lady Luck under the command of our Captain Aventurine.”

“... Said captain is on the verge of collapsing from alcohol poisoning behind you.”

It’s true. He’s clinging to the railing for dear life, the drinks from earlier catching up to him and hitting like a sledgehammer, you imagine. 

“Aeons, how much did you drink earlier?” you grumble as you hoist one arm over your shoulder and awkwardly drag him along. He merely hums and buries his nose into your hair, tripping over his two feet as he attempts to walk. 

“Mm… You smell nice, (Name). Like the new perfume I got you… hehe…”

“Answer the question, Captain.”

He opts to press his nose into your hair and inhale.

“Oh, not that much. Just… y’know… a couple tankards of beer.”

Meaning that he’s definitely had at least five of them and counting.

“… I’ve heard everything I needed to hear.”

Thankfully, Dr. Ratio seems to be adept at reading social cues and assists you with helping him down the stairs, albeit slowly and awkwardly. You invite him onto the ship and after taking a look around the medical quarters, he makes himself comfortable at your desk. He seems quite pleased, so you take it as some sort of roundabout compliment as you busy yourself with getting your captain to bed. You flip Aventurine over into the recovery position, who flops around aimlessly like a rag doll. Soon enough, you hear him faintly snoring. When you return, Dr. Ratio has taken one of the books shelved on your desk and began thumbing through it. 

“You have medical knowledge?” you ask once the door behind you is shut. He barely looks up from the book and continues flipping through its pages. 

“I have the title of ‘doctor’ for a reason.”

A doctor. An actual doctor. One step above you, a nurse. He had access to an education far out of your reach, and you had fought tooth and nail for yours. 

You can’t help but feel the first pangs of jealousy sink their claws into you and you avert your eyes, humiliated. What purpose would you have aboard the ship should he join as a doctor? What’s stopping your captain from deciding the man in front of you can do everything you can plus more and throwing you off the ship? Granted, any medical professional, doctor or not, is highly sought-after on pirate ships and you believe your captain is above tossing you aside after you’ve already proven your loyalty to him. But the knowledge that he will always be regarded as one step above you, seen as more valuable, is enough to leave a bitter taste in your mouth. 

“Overthinking things, are we?”

He meets your gaze with a sharp look of his own.

“Don’t give me that look. Only a fool who wallows in their own ignorance would do such a thing.”

You hadn’t realized you were glaring at him until now.

“Sorry,” you half-heartedly apologize, taking a deep breath to relieve the tight ball of anger in your chest. You just met this man; you know it’s not right to be pissed at him over something like this, but you can’t help it. You massage your temples and gesture for him to continue. 

“I am well aware that you are the longtime nurse aboard this ship, and while I have no doubt you’re just as ignorant as the other fools who proclaim themselves to be intelligent and respected in their fields-“

Is he insulting me to my face?!

“- I will acknowledge that you are at least deserving of your title for keeping you and this ship’s captain alive all this time. A commendable feat considering your lack of a higher education. I thus have no intention of stripping you of your role.”

… Well, that’s your biggest concern addressed. Although, was the remark about your lack of education really necessary?

Now no longer worrying about whether or not you’d find yourself back at that place you swore to leave behind, you relax.

“Then what is your intention?”

He huffs and dramatically snaps the book shut.

“I am first and foremost an educator! My mission is to spread knowledge across the world until ignorance is a cured disease. And yet, the board of trustees at the university are doing everything they can to get me to stay. What a pointless endeavor!”

You cast a doubtful glance at him.

“... But you’re a professor. A fresh batch of students is a fresh batch of minds to educate. Isn’t academia where you thrive?”

Dr. Ratio huffs, like he’s having to explain something repeatedly to a child that doesn’t understand. 

“Zero points! How can I possibly be content with my situation, knowing there’s a whole world of ignorance out there just waiting to be fixed? Besides, we don’t get many applicants per year.”

“Would you like a way out then?”

After a beat of silence, he sets your book down and turns to face you fully for the first time that night. You take in his ruby-rimmed golden eyes, the color of the sunset a few hours ago, that hold the weight of a genius’s expectations behind them. 

“Are you offering me a position aboard the ship?”

“That depends. What skills do you have?”

He puffs his chest out proudly.

“I have eight doctorates in the fields of biology, medicine, natural theology, philosophy, physics, mathematics, engineering… oh, and astronomy. You would be hard-pressed to not glean some value.”

That last part catches your attention.

“Astronomy, you say?”

We are in need of a dedicated navigator… Aventurine can’t be at the helm 24/7.

You turn your attention back to Dr. Ratio, who meets your gaze with a tilt of his head and a raised brow.

“Something on your mind?”

“Have you ever tried your hand at being a ship’s navigator?”

He doesn’t look surprised at your question. It’s like he was anticipating it.

“I can’t say I have,” he admits. “But with my knowledge, it should be child’s play.”

“Don’t say that about something you’ve never tried,” you caution. “If you’re really interested, meet me back here at the docks this time tomorrow night. We’ll see how you do.”

The next night, he’s waiting at the docks with several bags lying beside him. Hm, he must’ve packed all his belongings for a life at sea now. Aventurine whistles at him as you lead him aboard.

“Looks like you’ve made up your mind already, doc. Told you so.”

If looks could kill, Aventurine would be at the bottom of the sea right now. 

Once out on the deck, you hand him a sailing chart. Without a hitch, he dives right in. His spyglass is aimed at the sky as he examines the stars and their positions. With your help in hoisting the sails and Aventurine in steering the ship toward the right direction, you’re on track to your next destination.

“Not bad,” you praise. “You’ll need to learn how to steer the ship and how to hoist the sails, but you can learn that in due time.”

“That settles it then, I suppose,” comes Aventurine’s voice from behind. The soft glow of a tea candle flickering within a lantern fills the space as he steps into view.

“Welcome aboard, Ratio.”

He proves to be quite a skilled navigator, and you’re thankful you managed to snatch him up before any other pirate crew could. Even without a sailing chart or in stormy weather, he still manages to ensure you don’t veer off course. It’s truly remarkable, really, as even sailing from north to south is hardly a challenge for him.

He settles into the empty room next door to your quarters. Bookshelves line the walls from floor to ceiling, with several more stacked on his desk and bed. It perpetually smells like clean linens and chalk from the stash he burns through every week solving whatever problem piques his interest, written out on the rolling blackboard by the windows- or through hurling them at your captain with terrifying strength and speed. Sometimes, you’ll stop and stare at the board for a bit, only to give up after realizing you can’t understand a lick of it. It’s usually something physics or math related. If he’s in the room as well, he’ll try explaining it to you, but it all ends up flying over your head anyway. 

Soon enough, he lets you call him by his first name without the title out in front- a privilege not even your captain has. When not found on the deck, he can either be found reading and solving problems in his quarters, or hovering by your side.

“Rum mixed with… lime juice?”

You’re in the kitchen, surrounded by supplies. A new shipment of rum and citruses sits in the corner and you’re going through them, preparing the crew’s rations of alcohol.

You nod and toss the rinds over your shoulder into the garbage.

“Stagnant water on ships is a gold mine for diseases and pests. Alcohol is usually a safer alternative, and while the captain and I painstakingly ensure the water onboard is safe to drink…”

You shrug and take an experimental sip of the mixture. The strong burn of alcohol all but scorches your throat on the way down, but it’s a sensation you’ve long grown accustomed to, even liking it by now. The addition of lime makes you purse your lips and raise your brows approvingly. It would be even better with some sugar but alas, it’s a very costly material to transport, even by Aventurine’s standards.

“I suppose there are some vices that just can’t be shaken, like a pirate’s love for alcohol. The lime also prevents scurvy. I bet they don’t teach you this in med school, do they?”

Veritas begrudgingly shakes his head.

“We’re taught about the dangers of scurvy and waterborne disease obviously, but never resort to such… crude solutions.”

You laugh and push a glass toward him.

“Well, this is your life now, and you chose it. Better get used to how things are done around here.”

“I’m not saying I have anything against your methods, as crude as they may be,” he scoffs as he eyes the drink in front of him. You think you see a hint of nervousness in his eyes and smirk. Perhaps it’s Aventurine’s influence rubbing off onto you, but you spot a perfect opportunity to tease him.

“Drink up. Cheers,” you say, raising your glass in a toast. “It’s not half-bad, I promise.”

He lifts the glass to his lips and takes a hesitant sip before sputtering dramatically, face scrunched up in an amusing expression of disgust. You all but cackle at his reaction and down half your glass in one fell swoop.

“Liar,” is all he can manage out as he chugs water to chase away the burn of the drink.

“You’ll be singing the same tune I am in just a few months’ time. Just wait and see, I guarantee it.”

“Or that’s just your alcoholic tendencies speaking.”

“Never claimed I wasn’t one,” you respond with an eye roll as you finish the last bit of your drink. He looks at you with an expression of faux disgust as you leave, then looks down at his drink again as soon as the door closes. With a sudden burst of effort, he downs all of it. Veritas feels like he’s about to start breathing fire, but he holds it in for a few seconds before shakily exhaling.

“… It’s passable, I suppose. Five points.”

It’s some time after this that you welcome your fourth member aboard.

You’re docked at the only port to a mining town that, to your eyes, is on the verge of becoming a ghost town. It’s not winter yet, so the town hasn’t completely frozen over and snowed in (which is common this far north) but it’s still so bitingly cold. Supposedly, this is the warmest it gets year-round, but you still find yourself shivering underneath all your layers as you pace back and forth to prevent your limbs from turning into icicles. Even Aventurine, who likes to drink and gamble the day away after docking, keeps things on land as short as possible before running back to the ship to warm up. (Not like there are any taverns or casinos in a place this miserable anyway.)

You’re only here because there’s a severe storm blocking your way and this was the only port that you could dock at. All others, including the one you had left, were too far away to even consider rerouting to. Aventurine is absolutely miserable at the situation and you’re no better. Veritas is probably the worst of you three, being even more snippy than usual and holing up in his quarters. 

One thing you notice is the lack of trees. According to the locals, severe runoff from mining activities has led to trees spontaneously igniting from the industrial chemicals in the soil, leaving only burnt sticks behind. It’s quite sad, you think. The people here can’t even appreciate nature’s beauty. 

Another thing you noticed as soon as you docked are the heavy respirators the residents wear. There are newer models on the market that are lighter, smaller, and just plain better, but the ones you see look like metal helmets from times of war rather than medical devices. They’re old, archaic and clunky. They cover the entire face and you can hear every labored inhale and exhale through the little grate in front of the mouthpiece. 

It’s also so, so gray and dreary. A thick smog blankets the town thanks to the smokestack belching chemicals into the air. There’s a persistent acrid stench sticking to your clothes and skin and hair that no matter how hard you scrub, just won’t go away. Your throat feels scratchy and you’re always coughing and soon enough, you’re forced to don the same respirator everyone else does. You’re uncomfortably hot under the full face of metal and your neck is sore from its weight, while the vision in your left eye is always tinged red because of the glass used for the lens. You only wear it when you have to leave the ship, which is almost never. Aventurine laughed at how stupid you looked at first but before long, he was subjected to the same miserable fate as you.

“I can’t wait till we finally leave this place.”

“Tell me about it.”

On the day before you’re scheduled to finally depart, you decide to explore a bit further than you usually do. You hitch a ride with a resident past the outskirts of the town to the residential area. The pollution out here is significantly less, but still dangerously high by all standards. There’s actually vegetation out here! (Sparse blades of grass that haven’t been cut in ages and come up to your kneecaps. The soil is strangely wet and sticky and you wince after seeing the clumps of mud sticking to your shoes, even more so after recalling the extensive soil pollution plaguing the town.) Rows of identical concrete blocks are stacked alongside each other, meant to be bare-bones apartments. Faded slogans are painted onto the sides of them (“peace to the world!” is a common one you see) and there are small playgrounds out in front situated here and there.

It’s where you also find a girl around your age. She sits with her back to you as she hunches over something. It’s the bits of white hair peeking out from under the respirator that get your attention. You nudge the resident you’re walking alongside and look over at her.

“Who’s she?”

“Ah, that’s little Jelena. Though, she prefers to be called Topaz these days. Don’t ask me why.”

“What’s she working on?”

“Who knows? Beats me. All I know is she’s always mumbling something about leaving this place. Utter foolishness, if you ask me. Once you’re here, you’re never getting out.”

You stay put in your tracks examining her. She doesn’t seem to have noticed you, continuing with whatever she’s working on. The resident looks at you strangely but after a rushed and awkward wave goodbye, leaves.

“... Miss Topaz?”

She jolts and looks over her shoulder at you. Her respirator obscures her face but her posture is guarded and defensive. You can’t blame her.

“Who’re you? And how do you know my name?”

“A resident passing by told me.”

She takes a quick glance at you from head to toe.

“You’re not from here, are you?”

You laugh, hoping to dispel the tension and take a step forward. She looks a bit nervous, but hasn’t left yet. Good.

“What gave it away?”

“Nobody here has clothes that nice and clean. Or hair that shiny and well-maintained.”

She tugs on her own rags and choppy hair for emphasis. Sensing an opportunity, you sit down next to her and take your scarf off, wrapping it around her. Topaz jolts but stills when she feels how soft the material is. With a sudden effort, she yanks the respirator off her head and tosses it aside carelessly to bury her face further into the scarf.. The underlayer of her hair is a shockingly bright red. You match her actions and toss yours aside too. The acrid smell of polluted air hits your nose but you maintain a pleasant smile even though you want to scrunch your nose up and start coughing.  

“Keep it,” you say, patting her shoulders. She rolls the scarf fringe around between her fingers, marveling at how thick the yarn is and how it doesn’t fray immediately. “I have more clothes than I know what to do with.”

Topaz lets the scarf fall from her fingers and looks up at you behind untrimmed bangs.  

“... Who are you?”

She’s curious now. An enigmatic smile graces your face. 

“Would you like to know?”

A nod. 

“Nurse (Name), serving the Lady Luck, a vessel operated under the command of our pirate captain Aventurine.”

“... Pirates?”

Your gaze drifts to her workbook. There’s still questions in her eyes but she turns toward you a bit more to give you a better glance at what she’s working on, sensing your curiosity. A chart filled with lots of numbers and scribbled calculations all around it. 

“What’re you working on?”

“Accounting. I’m studying hard to get out of here. Everyone says I shouldn’t bother and just settle down with a husband already, but I have my sights set on something far greater than what this life can give me.”

You sympathetically hum and nod. There’s a loud squeak and something falls into your lap out of nowhere. It’s a… piglet?? Tiny for one as well. It squeals and flails around a bit in your lap until Topaz swoops in and lifts it up.

“Numby! Stop that!”

It squeals some more as Topaz continues lecturing it. You watch the exchange with a mix of confusion and concern for Topaz’s life.

“Is this… your pet?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah. This is Numby. They’re not just my pet though! They can accurately sense where riches are located and over the years, have even learned how to perform jobs related to security, debt collection, and actuarial sciences!”

The expression on your face must speak for yourself because she laughs and tosses you a gold coin. Numby squeals and flails in her arms, trying to go after it, but Topaz doesn’t budge. 

“Don’t believe me? Toss this coin out there and watch Numby go after it.”

You catch the coin deftly. Topaz covers Numby’s eyes and hands you a pocket knife. You raise an eyebrow.

“Go bury it. Give Numby a challenge. Not like it really is one, but make them jump over a hurdle or two.”

“You can use weapons?”

“Course I can.”

She looks up at the perpetually gray sky and the plumes of pollution being spewed out. 

“There’s not a lot of people here, but life is hard and sometimes people try to take out their frustrations on those around them. Crime is a lot more rampant than you’d expect in a place like this, and unless you want to be robbed completely defenseless, it’s a given to always have something on you.”

You feel like your lucky stars have aligned and all the Aeons themselves are smiling down on you. By Aventurine’s luck, this girl is everything you need all in one package! You feel like this is hardly real. 

“What weapons can you use?”

She shrugs. “Knives, mostly. They’re the most accessible around here. But I have experience with guns too. Swords as well. Nabbed them off the drunken sailors a while back to protect myself and Numby against some idiots who had the really bright idea to turn them into bacon.”

… You feel like you’re ascending right now. Everything is aligning exactly the way you need them to. 

“Stolen a few times before, eh? Looks like you’ve already got experience in piracy.”

She scowls at you and you take that as your cue to bury the coin. You choose a location that’s a few apartment blocks down from hers. The knife sinks easily into the sticky, polluted soil as you dig a little hole before burying the coin. You avoid getting any dirt on your hands, not wanting to even think about what the contamination could and would do to your skin…

“Finished,” you call out as you make your way back to her. Topaz lifts her hand from Numby’s eyes and with a slap to the rear, sends the piglet running. They run faster than you expected them to with their stubby legs and soon disappear from sight.

“They’ll be waiting for us where the treasure is. But in the meanwhile, we can walk and talk.”

The two of you begin walking side by side, this time with less tension in the air.

“What a drag it is being pressured to settle for less,” you empathize, shifting the conversation back to the earlier topic. “What do you want to be?”

“A businesswoman of sorts, climbing up the ladder until I’m sitting at the top. Then no one can tell me what to do.” Even as she walks, she still continues to work, her pencil flying across the page as she performs calculations faster than you can keep up with. 

You raise your eyebrows and let out an “ohhhhhhh” in response. A golden opportunity has presented itself. 

“Well, what do you want in life then?”

“... I suppose it’s to solve problems. There’s many of them that exist in this world and I like solving them. It makes me feel nice, knowing I’m doing something to improve people’s lives.”

“Why not a teacher or something similar then? You’re quite good at math, after all.”

She shakes her head. “Not enough jobs in education around here. The nearest school is in the neighboring town, which is over half an hour away. The nearest university is several hours away in the city. There’s no demand for education in these parts, so there’s no supply of jobs and the current positions are occupied by people who’d rather die than resign.”

She flips to the next page and dives right in. 

“But companies are always hiring, right? I heard from the sailors down at the dock that there’s a few that are rapidly growing and are in need of people. So that’s why I want to become a businesswoman. Because it’s the fastest way to achieve what I want- happiness. And that’s how a job should be.”

You drum your fingers along your arm excitedly and lean forward with a conspiratorial look on your face. Drawn in by your expression, Topaz can’t help but lean in a bit too. 

“What if I said that although I can’t land you a job at a big company, I can guarantee you riches and a chance to explore the world? You can also finally escape those annoying aunties who keep pestering you about marriage and sending men your way who you can’t even bear to look at,” you whisper, temptation and promise dripping from every word. 

Her pencil stills, she comes to a halt, and she looks at you fully for the first time. Her eyes are a brilliant purple with flecks of blue and yellow. Despite the harsh conditions surrounding her, they still retain plenty of life. Quite different from Aventurine, you think. Makes you wonder what he went through to have the life sucked out of his eyes. 

But soon enough, there’s a scowl back on her face and she begins walking again. 

“Money is a means, not an end. I may be poor, but I’m not studying out of greed. Work should make you happy. If that’s all there is to offer, then I won’t be happy and I can’t have that happening.”

“How does solving long-buried mysteries sound? It should scratch that problem-solving itch of yours.”

She hesitates and you can tell she’s starting to seriously consider your offer. You just have to keep pushing and choosing your words carefully. 

“I don’t see how piracy helps anyone though,” she says stubbornly and you mentally sigh. She really wants to know what she’s getting herself into, huh? But that’s already two of her three needs you’ve got checked off and you already have a counterargument prepared for this. 

“We only search for and discover buried treasure that no one has laid claim to and is free game for all interested pirates,” you calmly respond. “None of that town-looting business you might hear about from the sailors down at the dock. And should you wish to donate your share of money earned to philanthropic organizations or invest it elsewhere… you’re more than welcome to. We won’t stop you.”

From the look on her face, victory has already been secured. And yet, she looks uncertain. Unsure.

“But… Why me? Why little Jelena from this run-down mining town when there are so many smart, talented people out there waiting to be discovered?”

There’s a loud squeal up ahead and Numby is jumping up and down in front of the spot you had buried the coin. Topaz unearths it with the knife and pulls out the dirt-stained coin. So she was right. Even better. 

You reach your hand out to her, just like how you did when you made your offer to Aventurine and Veritas.

“Why, it’s simple. We both get what we want. You get a ticket out of here and a hefty share of our riches, while we get a capable bookkeeper who prevents our captain from gambling away too much money, plus a master gunner who’ll defend the ship from foes.”

Your hand remains extended. She stares at it, then at you disbelievingly.

“I…”

You wave the gold coin you plucked out of her gloved hands without her noticing and wave it in front of her face. 

“Every investment has its risks, right? I suppose it’s natural to want to pick the one that has the least risk involved when you’re putting down something as important and uncertain as your future as collateral. But you’re still young with plenty of time left and dreams unfulfilled. If you play it safe, you won’t be able to make a killing later on in life. My days are freer now. All of us are. And I know that freedom to do as you please is what’ll bring you that happiness you so desire.”

Silence greets you. You swallow nervously. (You hope she didn’t see it.) You’re no businessperson, but you know an opportunity when you see it. And this is one you absolutely cannot let slip through your fingers. You’re gripping the coin as tight as you can and your hands are cold and clammy beneath your gloves. 

Her shoulders begin to shake. Your hand twitches and you think you’ve somehow upset her until she begins to laugh heartily. It’s loud and free, echoing off the walls of the apartment blocks. It’s the prettiest sound you’ve heard in this whole town. 

“Wow, talk about a win-win situation! Just the way I like to go about doing business. Nurse (Name), I’ll be under your care going forward!”

She whistles for Numby, who comes running over, oinking. 

“... You’re not bringing anything else with you? We don’t have to leave immediately, you know. We still got a whole day before we leave.”

Topaz shakes her head and lifts Numby onto her shoulders. 

“Nothing worth bringing along. Besides, what’s a better way to signify a fresh start in life by leaving everything behind?”

“Not saying goodbye either?”

Her enthusiastic demeanor fades to something more solemn and her pace slows.

“... No one here supports my dreams. If they didn’t support me from the very start, they don’t deserve to see me at my proudest.”

You hitch a ride back to the docks with another resident. On the way back, Topaz nudges you in the side.

“Are you sure you aren’t a businessperson? That was a very solid offer you drafted and presented to me back there. I couldn’t have done much better myself. You’ve even got the silver tongue for success as well. Perhaps an ambassador of sorts, at the very least?”

You laugh and brush aside her compliments.

“I’m truly flattered, but I really am just a nurse onboard… oh. Right.”

“... Is something the matter?”

“It’s just… I never told our Captain that a fourth member might be joining us. Ah… he’s in for quite the surprise when we get back to the docks.”

In my defense, it’s not like I could’ve told him anyway while I was so far away from our ship… 

Her face falls. Wait, you can’t have this happening already! Not when you just convinced her to join!

“I’ll vouch for you,” you quickly reassure. “He may be annoying and difficult to work with, but he’s not unreasonable. Besides, I’ve been a crewmate for the longest. If there’s anyone he’s going to listen to, it’s me.”

You find Aventurine lounging around in his quarters when you return. He gets up to welcome you back with an eager grin and an embrace, but pauses when he sees Topaz and Numby behind you.

“Oh? Who’s this?”

You plant yourself between them.

“Topaz, meet Captain Aventurine. You’ll be working under him from this day forward.”

As per his usual nature, he merely laughs and extends his hand. Topaz firmly grasps and shakes it. 

“A new recruit,” he chuckles. “Welcome aboard the Lady Luck then. We could always use some more helping hands around here. (Name), why don’t you go show her around the ship?”

But there’s a look in his eyes that follows you into the late hours of the night, through showing her the layout of the ship and introducing her to Veritas who looked as if he couldn’t care less, and the extravagant dinner to celebrate her arrival.

You and I need to talk.

It’s only after everyone has gone to sleep that Aventurine seeks you out. Topaz is sleeping soundly in your bed and you’re leaning against the doorframe outside, waiting for him. When he does appear, the usual carefree smirk is gone, instead replaced by a more serious expression.

“Really? A new crewmate without my-”

You violently shush him.

“She’s sleeping!” you hiss. He rolls his eyes but listens all the same.

“... I’m not saying I’m doubting your ability to seek out talented people,” he begins, voice a whisper this time. “But what if she betrays us? And we’ve been just fine so far with the three of us. What can she do that we can’t?”

You roll your eyes.

“Aventurine-”

“Kakavasha.”

“What?”

His intense gaze doesn’t waver. Ghost fire sprouts from his fingertips and dances wildly around him. A wisp lands on your hand. It’s warm, pleasantly so. 

“Kakavasha. That’s my real name. Call me that, but only when we’re alone.”

“... Really? You decide to finally open up in the middle of an argument?” you grumble. “There’s a time and place for everything, y’know…”

He blinks at you innocently and you resist the urge to push him overboard. Instead, you settle for coughing and swatting the wisp of ghost fire away from you.

“... As I was saying, Captain Kakavasha, she won’t betray us.”

“A bold statement to make with such confidence. How can you say for certain?”

“Kakavasha, this girl came from nothing. You saw the state of town she grew up in. No friends, no connections, no way out. But we gave her the escape she’s been looking for. She won’t sell us out, not while she’s indebted to us.”

You hear a sudden noise behind the door and freeze. It’s silent for several more agonizing moments until you finally relax. She probably just shifted around in her sleep. You really hope she didn’t wake up or hear any of that…

“But if she decides to leave of her own accord to chase her dream further, then who are we to stop her? Of course, even if she tries to turn us in, the authorities won’t be able to catch us,” you joke, trying to ease his fears. 

Aventurine hums. He doesn’t look moved.

“So? What can she do that we can’t?”

… But he doesn’t press the prior topic any further so you assume it’s ok for now.

You beam and hold out the workbook you swiped off her earlier. 

“Captain, we’ll have a dedicated accountant on board now! Just look at this. I saw her complete this entire page in no more than five minutes! Not only is she fast, but she’s accurate! Here, check for yourself if you don’t believe me.”

Aventurine takes it and examines it with an air of disinterest surrounding him. He glances at it for a few seconds before tossing it back.

“Yeah, it’s all correct.”

“But that’s not all!” you continue. “Her little pet that’s always following her? Apparently, they’re skilled in security, debt collection, and actuarial sciences!”

The silence that follows your statement speaks for itself.

“... Don’t look at me like that.”

“Are you drunk right now, (Name)?”

“Hey!” you exclaim indignantly, before remembering that Topaz is still asleep. “I am not! I’ll admit, I was just quoting her claims but her pet is really good at detecting treasure. I buried a gold coin and they found it with no trouble. Kakavasha, imagine how useful they would be.”

“Pigs are a symbol of good luck aboard a ship…” he mumbles to himself and it’s a sign you’re a step closer to convincing him.

“... Should we introduce her to Jade?” you ask. Aventurine looks at you like you’re insane. Then, as if considering your offer, looks at your door as if seeing through it to the girl sleeping in your bed.

“I know you’re good at math and business too, but wouldn’t it be nice to have someone else equally as skilled on board? With a bit of refinement from Jade, she’ll be just as qualified as any other licensed professional out there,” you plead.

He shakes his head. “If you want me to be the bookkeeper as well, I can do that no problem. If you’re adamant about her joining, you’ll have to try harder than that.”

“You’re a pain in the ass.”

“Your pain in the ass, sweetheart.”

“Shut up and don’t call me that, especially right now,” you growl. He merely hums and smiles, his expression strangely cat-like. He wants to make things difficult for you? Fine. Time to bring out the big guns then.

“She’s skilled with weapons.”

“...”

“...”

“How skilled? And with what types?”

Checkmate. 

“Knives, mostly. But she has experience with guns and swords too.”

You can practically see the gears turning in his head and hear his thoughts. He must be thinking about the weapons piled away in the armory with no one skilled enough to use them. With Topaz on board, they’d be put to good use for once- and after enough training from her, there was nothing the crew would fear.

“... Of course, I still have to personally see what she’s capable of.”

He glances at the clock hanging above his dresser mirror. 

“I’ll see to it tomorrow morning. Tell her to meet me on the deck first thing after waking up. I’ll be testing her aim and accuracy, among other factors.”

You’re woken up the next morning by the sound of gunshots. Several of them. Thinking you’re under attack, you scramble to your feet and stumble onto the deck only to see Topaz shooting some bottles lined up on the railing- and she’s hitting every one of them. 

Aventurine takes in the sight of you in your pajamas and unbrushed hair. A snort escapes him. 

“Good morning, my lovely nurse. Did you sleep well?”

… The nerve of this man. Then again, he did warn you the night before, so it’s not like you can blame him for your own forgetfulness. 

He stops you before you can storm off though, beckoning Topaz over.

“Congratulations,” he says while clapping. “Thanks to my beloved’s recommendation and your mastery over weapons, I hereby welcome you aboard the ship as our master gunner, Topaz.”

She excitedly shakes his hand before enveloping you in a bone-crushingly tight hug.

“Thank you! I promise I won’t let you down. I’ll pay you back double- no, triple the amount of investment you’ve put in me. And I always deliver on my promises!”

Your thoughts are a whirlwind as you watch her run down to where your quarters are.

… But I never saw it as you owing me?

Aventurine’s light laughter pulls you out of your thoughts. You scowl at him as he stops before you, gently combing out the tangles in your bedhead with his fingers.

“Stop referring to me by those pet names. People are going to get the wrong idea about us.”

“Oh? I wouldn’t mind that one bit.”

“Veritas has already been giving me strange looks whenever he sees us two together. Add Jele- Topaz into the mix and I don’t think I’ll be able to handle it.”

“Handle what? Sweetheart, it’s just the four of us out on the open sea!”

He spins you around in his arms and you let yourself be dragged along.

“That’s exactly what I mean! And don’t ‘sweetheart’ me!”

“Sure, sure. Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

“You-!”

Topaz settles into the room across the hall from yours. While the space is initially barren, it quickly gets filled up thanks to you. She raids your overflowing wardrobe and takes whatever interests her periodically and half the time, you don’t even realize what she stole thanks to your captain constantly spoiling you. Cosmetics are another common victim of her theft, but it’s more noticeable, especially if it’s a perfume. Books that you’ve finished are piled up in her room and she’ll often come to you with questions about your thoughts after she’s finished reading one. Numby has their own little bed at the foot of hers and you’ll frequently see them chasing Doubloon around the deck. 

It seems that Topaz is good at everything and anything she sets her mind to, because she becomes frighteningly skilled with weapons in a short period of time. Every day, she holds lessons teaching you all how to use an array of weapons, and she’s quite the skilled teacher too. But when class isn’t in session, she can often be found out on the main deck during a sunny day, humming a tune to herself as she cleans out the many pricey pistols and rifles you’ve plundered over the course of your journeys. Or by your side, but that’s a given by now. 

She also gets… seasick. Rather easily too. It’s her one fatal weakness. She gets used to it over time, but if the seas are rougher than usual, it’s guaranteed that you’ll find her hurling into the ocean, face pale and hair sticking to her forehead. And sometimes, it’ll still happen even when the seas are calm! It gets to the point where she’s so fed up she goes to Aventurine himself and demands answers. But he merely tips his head back and laughs.

“That’s the Lady Luck for you! She’s a fickle one like her namesake. Sometimes, she’ll try and drown you just for spite. She keeps even me on my toes at all times and I’m her captain. Isn’t that right?”

Aventurine pats the shiny wooden helm. As if responding to him, she creaks and rolls precariously even though the waves are calm. 

The four of you now are a complete crew. Incredibly small by all means, but a crew that operates smoothly like a well-oiled machine and one to be feared. 

As there’s so few of you on board, all of you have to double down, or even triple down, on roles. Veritas is simultaneously the boatswain and navigator, while Topaz is master gunner and master at arms while also being the bookkeeper. You’re “the ship’s beloved nurse”, as so lovingly referred to by Aventurine, while also being the quartermaster. Smaller roles such as cooking and carpentry are handled on a day by day basis and whoever’s available at the moment- although it usually ends up being you after Numby ran amok in the kitchen and almost burnt the ship down.

Guess being second in command is the bare minimum you deserve after being with him the longest among everyone on board. Although, there’s no real sense of hierarchy when there’s only four of you in total… 

Unlike other pirate captains out there, he wasn’t a rich man or a legitimate captain or even a high-ranking officer on a private vessel before becoming captain. Rather, there’s almost nothing known about him and it’s what makes others regard him with suspicion. How can a man who started off with nothing sail the seas with such ease, outshining even those who were born with a silver spoon in their mouths? 

But it’s all forgotten about in the face of his achievements- always going where no man has dared gone before and finding treasures beyond a pirate’s wildest imagination, as well as discovering several legendary treasures that have been lost for generations. Sea monsters that have been terrorizing ships for years meet their watery demise by your hand with Topaz leading the fray. Even the harshest of seas and weathering three days and nights with little sleep and food isn’t enough to shake your spirits. Mythical beasts meet death one after another and it’s around after the third creature slayed- a kraken whose single tentacle was longer than your ship measured from prow to stern, strong enough to crush her hull into splinters with ease- that you know you’ve made a name for yourselves. Whispers follow you everywhere you go on land and you’ll always hear dramatized retellings of your battles and treasures discovered while passing by taverns. 

The bounty on your heads also increases with each treasure you discover. It wasn’t until the four of you banded together that wanted posters started being put out. The amounts offered started off small at first, but after more and more valuable treasures were discovered, the number of zeros at the end keeps increasing until it’s the staggering number it is today. It becomes a point of pride, seeing how quickly the amount offered spikes with each town you stop at and you’ll have a good laugh over it, especially if the authorities think they’re fast enough to arrest you. You’ll take your sweet time fleeing as officials scurry after you like drunken idiots with two left feet- and giving them a fair share of trouble too. By the time they catch up with you at the port, you’re already long gone with a stash of stolen weapons and alcohol onboard- and a horrifyingly long tab under their name at the local tavern.

All the while having a crew of only three under Aventurine’s command. Truly a once-in-a-lifetime kind of pirate captain.

As word spreads from port to port about his unbelievable luck in finding treasure, his reputation grows and so does the number of people looking to join his crew. At every port, he welcomes anyone wishing to join with open arms. But not everyone is worthy of joining. You secretly put every applicant through a series of tests to see if they’re qualified including, but not limited to: seeing what skills they have to offer that you don’t possess already, if they can handle Ratio’s admittedly hardass personality at times, if they can satisfactorily perform the jobs of upwards of three people, as well as their motives among others. 

And of course, dealing with Aventurine. He’s in a category of his own. 

As expected, none of them last more than an hour. Shame. More hands on deck would always be appreciated.

All of this leads to your reputation as a small but tight-knit crew that would defend each other to the death. Regardless of the size or might of the ship that dares to challenge you, you always emerge victorious. Whether it be down to dumb luck or the collective desire to protect home, no one makes it out alive after encountering you. It’s enough to tell other pirate crews to steer clear, especially after you had considerably roughed up other crews more than twice your size. After the first few encounters that resulted in many dead pirates, you all decide to raise a red flag. It warns others that your crew will refuse to spare the lives of any opponent that comes your way. You’ve actually seen ships turn and head the other way after seeing yours. Now, whether that be from the red flag or upon recognizing the Lady Luck, you’re not sure, but it means less work for you either way, so you aren’t keen on prying too deep. 

Surprisingly, Aventurine doesn’t like to settle things with a duel unless he has to. Rather, his preferred method is with a game. He’ll invite the captain of the other ship below deck for a game of poker or blackjack rather than clashing swords and guns. The wager? The same as usual- the lives of the crew and the supplies on board. The loser and his crew would have to walk the plank and all treasures aboard would be handed over to the winning party. It’s not often it happens, but it’s still a nerve-wracking experience each time. Topaz had nearly passed out from anxiousness the first time he’d bet her life alongside yours and Ratio’s not long after she’d joined, while Ratio had lifted Aventurine up by the collar and nearly thrown him overboard. It was only thanks to your intervention and pleading that your captain hadn’t met his end that day.

… Safe to say, many a pirate crew have lost their lives and treasure this way. 

Like the crew that was idiotic enough to challenge Aventurine’s luck and consequently met their end just a few minutes ago. 

You watch as the captain of the ship anchored across from yours goes overboard with a resounding splash. His crew had already jumped before him. 

“That’s the last of ‘em,” says Topaz as she confirms with the spyglass. “Ratio and Cap’n are going through and seeing what treasure they had. But what would we do about their ship?”

“Leave it. We don’t have any cannons on board to blast it to smithereens and it's not worth adding another vessel to our fleet.”

Veritas and Aventurine push several treasure chests across the gangplank. Once the last of them are on your ship, Veritas lifts the gangplank and weighs the anchor and soon, you’re off again. 

“Let’s see what we have in here,” says Aventurine as you all stroll over curiously. He pops the lids off the chests and collective “oohs” and “aahs” fill the air as you marvel at the sparkling treasure filled to the brim inside. Aventurine lets out an appreciative whistle and lets a handful of multicolored gemstones slip through his fingers. 

“Have at it. Go and take your pick.”

Veritas snatches up the sailing charts while Topaz lays claim to the abundance of weapons. Her eyes are sparkling as she looks at the weapons in much need of some love and a deep-cleaning, and you can already tell what she’ll be up to for the next week or so. Meanwhile, you go through the chests with slim hope they’ll contain some medical supplies. To your disappointment, but not surprise, you find none. You instead settle on some pearl jewelry that catches your eye. 

“You guys barely took anything,” comments Aventurine as he peers into the chests again. “They’re still practically full.”

“That’s because gold and jewelry can only get us so far,” you remind him as he steps behind you to fasten the string of pearls around your neck. The cold metal of his nail guards and warmth of his fingertips lightly brushing over the nape of your neck make you shudder. From the faint chuckle that escapes him, your action didn’t go unnoticed. 

“Credits are where it’s really at,” adds Topaz as she gets to sharpening and polishing a sword. Aventurine rolls his eyes and scoffs.

“Of course the budding businesswoman would say that.”

He barely ducks out of the way in time to avoid Numby being chucked toward his head. 

Heavy wind and rain batters the Lady Luck later that night. But it’s cozy and warm beneath the deck in your dining room. Mismatched dishes and cups cover the round table the four of you are seated around, the food having long since been polished off. Numby is in a food coma by Topaz’s feet and Doubloon purrs contentedly in your lap. Veritas had gone off to bed earlier and Topaz is mumbling incoherently to herself, having drank more than she usually does in one sitting. With Aventurine’s help, you help Topaz to her feet and tuck her into bed while Numby sleepily trots after you. 

The two of you are back in the kitchen, silently doing the dishes and cleaning the space. When you’re finished, you bid him goodnight until you feel his hand latch onto your sleeve.

“What is it?”

“... Stay. Please.”

“... Captain, did you have too much to drink at dinner earlier?”

“I’m fine,” he grumbles. “Not even tipsy.”

The pink flush on his cheeks makes you doubt his words, but you let him lead you toward his quarters. The space is warm and extravagantly decorated. Atlases and maps are piled atop the heavy wooden desk in the corner with several candles burning throughout that fill the room with light. His wardrobe is even more packed than yours, overflowing to the point where you can barely make out the original floor beneath the heaps and piles of clothing. You carefully step over what you believe is a pile of silken robes on the way to his bed, where you lay him to sleep amongst the many fluffy pillows and heavy blankets covering the mattress. 

He stops you again as you’re about to leave.

“Don’t.”

“Captain, you have to go to sleep soon.”

“I’m not tired,” he argues childishly. “I have something I need to tell you.”

The uncharacteristic seriousness of his voice has you straightening up. You cast a glance at the door to ensure it’s locked as he sits up and drapes a luxurious fur over your shoulders. He pats the empty space next to him and after a moment of hesitation over the implications of getting into bed with your captain, you join him. 

“Truth be told, I haven’t been able to sleep lately,” he laments. “I’ve been plagued by nightmares…”

It’s only now you notice the dark circle under his exposed eye and a pang of guilt strikes your heart. You cautiously remove the bejeweled eyepatch and expose his blind eye- a privilege granted to only you- and frown at the sight.

“How long has this been going on for?”

“A while now,” he grumbles. You click your tongue and your frown deepens.

“Why didn’t you come to me about this earlier?”

Aventurine rolls his eyes. 

“Please. It’s nothing worth worrying your pretty head over.”

The remark has the opposite effect he intended. You glare at him and angrily tug on his ear.

“Captain, I think you’ve forgotten this, but it’s our duty to ensure you’re fit to sail even if you do piss us off to no extent at times. I’m responsible for ensuring you’re in good health, Topaz is responsible for making sure we can defend ourselves, while Ratio is in charge of making sure we don’t veer off course. We are all your responsibility just as much as you are ours.” 

He sighs and looks away. Figures. He should’ve known better than to expect you’d let his neglectfulness slip by the wayside. Meanwhile, you roll your neck and irritatedly sigh. 

“You mentioned nightmares. Do you want to talk about them?”

He keeps avoiding eye contact. With a resigned sigh, you lean against him languidly, head resting on his shoulder. Aventurine stiffens, clearly not used to touch, but relaxes after a few seconds. A hand comes to grasp yours. 

“... They always start off the same way,” he begins. “We’re lost at sea somehow and there’s always foul weather. Amidst the lighting, a ghost ship is illuminated.”

He swallows. 

“We then investigate that ship to discover that her hull is filled to the brim with gold and treasures alike, but no captain or crew on board.”

Aventurine begins fiddling with the poker chip he always carries on him. 

“And this is where things can change. Sometimes, I’ll turn and see that she’s hung you all before my eyes. Other times you’ll all have gone overboard, drowned by a rogue wave snatching everyone up except for me. Sometimes she’ll even steal my sight. Either way, they all end the same way. I’m cursed to be her captain forever, sailing the seas without an end in sight. A captain that didn’t go down with his ship and left without a crew.”

He lets out a dry, humorless laugh and tucks the chip back into his pocket. You swallow dryly.

“Do you think it has anything to do with…?”

You look down at his hands, then back up at him. He doesn’t meet your gaze.

“... How much do you know?”

It sounds more like a threat than a question- but a weak one at that. You scoff and take his hands in yours, taking care to remove the nail guards one by one as well.

“What do you mean by that? Kakavasha, you know by now I couldn’t care less about who you are. And honestly, I’m kind of offended that you think I would,” you sigh as you remove his hat and the teal bandana wrapped around his head. “All this time together and I was under the impression you held me in higher regard than that.”

“Cut the theatrics,” he grumbles. You toss his hat and bandana off to the side and pull the blankets snugly over you both. 

“But a ghost ship, hm?” you say, eyeing the stack of open books on his desk. “That’s never a good sign. Surely we’re not sailing towards our imminent deaths, right?”

He draws you closer as you roll over onto your stomach and gaze up at him with sleepy eyes. He feels his heart somersault at the proximity and your warmth seeping into the sheets. It’s an unfamiliar feeling he’s not quite comfortable with yet and tries to play it off with a laugh.

“I’d sure hope not.”

But it’s the first time he’s met your gaze this entire night. You meet his eyes unflinchingly, as you always do, with a lazy smile as you shift onto your side. 

“... There’s no storm that Veritas can’t lead us out of,” you quietly reassure. “No monster that Jelena can’t kill. No injury that I can’t heal.”

A hand sneaks out from beneath the covers to grasp his.

“And no captain better fit to lead us through the storm than you. So chin up, ok? We’ll make it out together on the other side surrounded by calm seas just fine.”

Aventurine shakily exhales. There’s still more on his mind but… forget it. They’re not worth worrying you over.

“... If you say so, sweetheart.”

“‘Course I do. Because I believe in your abilities.”

He stares at you disbelievingly before bursting out into laughter.

“You really are something, you know? Something so incredible I could practically kiss you right now.”

“Then do it.”

Your gaze is steadfast like it’s always been ever since joining. Not once have you ever flinched away from witnessing every aspect about him, both pretty and ugly. Every reckless, stupid, horrible decision he’s ever made was an attempt to chase you off the ship so you wouldn’t see him for who he really is. But for some reason, whether it be your persistence or having figured out his motives, you’ve stuck around. 

He’s a coward of a man at heart, but you’ve surely seen through his grandeur by now. You may pretend to be a mere nurse, but Aventurine knows that’s far from the case. You surely have to know his biggest, darkest secret by now, yes?

“And if I don’t?”

“Then I’ll tell Ratio that you’re the one who’s been leaving obscene doodles on his chalkboard and Topaz that you’re the reason for Numby’s sudden weight gain.”

“Seems like my hand has been forced,” he chuckles. “Fine. You win this round, my beloved nurse.”

The rain continues pouring outside, but it’s still warm and dry beneath the deck. And if one kiss leads to something that lasts until the candles burn out, then… 

That’s a secret for you to keep then, yes?

It’s not the sun that wakes you the next morning. Rather, it’s the weight of a blond man sprawled out on top of you that does. 

“Kakavasha… get off me. You’re heavy and I can’t breathe.”

“Mmm… no. You’re comfy.”

His arms tighten around your waist as you flail around and try to shake him off. 

“Captain, your duties and crew await you! Let go of me!”

After some more incessant squirming and an accidental kick to his stomach, he finally relents. You shake him off and get ready for the day, trying to not think about what transpired last night as you change and do your makeup. The mere thought of it is enough to make your face heat up several degrees… 

When you’re finished, you peek into his room on the way to the main deck out of curiosity, only to see he’s still in the same spot you left him in. When he sees you glaring at him disapprovingly from the doorway, he perks up.

“Help me get ready?”

“Captain, you are a grown ass man.”

“Pretty please?”

He hurries to his feet and scurries over, before sinking to his knees and wrapping his arms around your waist. He fixates you with those big, watery dual-colored eyes and you just can’t bring yourself to say no even though you know he’s playing you like a fiddle

“... Fine. But just this once. And not a word to Ratio and Topaz, got it?”

“Understood, my dear nurse!”

You start by all but tossing his clothes toward him, then turning and facing the other way resolutely as he gets dressed.

“Won’t you help your poor captain out here?”

A loud “oof!” escapes him as you toss his long coat over your shoulder. The weight of it, gold embellishments and gems and all, knocks him flat on his back and onto his bed again. He takes his sweet time getting dressed after that, grumbling all the while until he’s done. 

The wealth of accessories he wears are next. Aventurine slips on the pair of golden anchor earrings that are as heavy as one as you layer his necklaces the way he likes them. He preens like a bird under your attention and you have to fight back the comment likening him to a peacock that brews on the tip of your tongue. 

You re-wrap the bandana around his head before placing his hat on slightly tilted- just the way he likes it. Almost done. Just one last touch before he’s ready. You pull out a tin of salve and dab it onto the scar over his eye. Aventurine scrunches his nose up in distaste at the strong herbal smell, but lets you do as you please. You pat it dry and secure his eyepatch, nodding in satisfaction at your handiwork. 

“Perfect. There’s our captain, ready to command and conquer the seas.”

“I think you meant to say my captain, especially after last night. Weren’t you the one-”

You shut him up with a zealous kiss to the lips that has him sighing in bliss when you pull away, a dazed expression on his face and a pretty shade of pink on his lips that matches the one on yours. 

For such an eccentric man, he sure can be predictable when you have him dancing in the palm of your hand. 

The skies are cloudier and darker than you’d like them to be when you step out onto the deck. It’s also quite windy too. Veritas is lowering one of the sails while Topaz is on lookout duty. Upon seeing the two of you hand in hand, the former scoffs and rolls his eyes while the latter whistles obnoxiously.

“Good morning to you two lovebirds! I take it you had some fun last night?”

You chuck a pastry you had nabbed from the kitchen at Topaz to shut her up. She catches it deftly with one hand while Numby jumps up and down around her, pleading for a bite, but at least it worked. Meanwhile, Veritas is glaring at you with disgust in his eyes.

“What?” you ask innocently.

“I couldn’t sleep a wink last night.”

Oh. Oops.

“You’re just complaining because you’re jealous, doc,” interjects Aventurine with an arm thrown around your shoulder. The purple-haired man scowls angrily and turns on his heel, storming away angrily while grumbling something about the too-thin walls on the ship.

“And wipe that lipstick mark off your mouth,” he snaps at Aventurine. His face flushes guiltily while you snicker behind your hand. 

Topaz lifts the spyglass away with a worried look on her face.

“Cap’n, there’s a storm brewing up ahead. A pretty intense one from the looks of it and because the winds are reaching us out here already.”

Normally, he’d laugh such concerns off and lazily give the order to circle around it. But this time, he wordlessly takes the spyglass from her and looks out toward the horizon where dark storm clouds are gathering and swirling.

“... Turn around.”

You think you’ve misheard him and so does everyone else.

“What?”

“Turn the ship around,” he quickly orders as he places the spyglass back into Topaz’s hands and hurries over to the helm. “If we go now at full sail, we should be able to outrun it until it dies out.”

Ratio and Topaz share confused looks but do as he says, obediently hoisting all the sails as Aventurine spins the wheel. The Lady Luck slowly turns around and soon she’s sailing ahead at full speed. Even so, the storm clouds aren’t getting any smaller. 

There’s a level of urgency etched into Aventurine’s face that you haven’t seen before as he pushes the Lady Luck to her limits. His hands grip the wheel so tightly you think that any more and the wood would crack. It’s as if he’s trying to outrun something, especially with how often he looks back over his shoulder at the encroaching clouds blanketing the sky in pitch-black darkness. 

Even sailing at near-top speeds, you still aren’t able to outrun the storm. Heavy clouds that bring with them an oppressive humidity and electrical charge to the air roll in rapidly, surrounding you on all four sides. There’s a strange buzz in the air and your hair begins to stand on end. There’s a small patch of clear sky in front of you that’s your only escape, and it’s rapidly shrinking. 

Come on, just a little faster… just a little more…!

Her prow just barely breaks free of the storm when a sudden flash of lightning temporarily blinds you all. When you open your eyes again, it’s so dark you can only see a few paces in front of you. Not a single shred of light escapes the thick storm clouds rolling overhead that have finally completely moved in, and you realize the sky is tinged a sickly green when lightning flashes. The air is heavy and humid and mere seconds later, heavy, fat raindrops fall from the clouds, splattering angrily against the deck. The temperature plummets and the raindrops condense into giant hailstones, harshly stinging your skin as they pelt you and the deck with harsh cracks. The slippery surface of the deck and angry seas tossing the ship around as if she weighs nothing make it so that you’re constantly sliding into walls and hitting things. 

You’re surrounded by the storm with no way out in sight.

Ratio lowers the sails as fast as he can and jumps down the second he’s done. Mere milliseconds later, the boom swings about violently toward the spot he was just at. A moment sooner and he would’ve surely died upon impact.

You regroup by Aventurine’s side, who’s staring at the churning waters with barely-concealed horror. Towering, white-capped waves crash mercilessly against her hull and spill onto the deck. The salty spray of the ocean shoots up as high as the masts and stings your eyes. The continuous gusts of winds threaten to rip the sails off the masts and howl against your ears. The Lady Luck rolls violently amidst the choppy waves and your stomach twists into knots at every drop. Poor Topaz is already throwing up over the side of the ship and Ratio is starting to look a little green. 

“So this is it then,” he murmurs under his breath, so quietly you think only your ears heard it. Before you can respond, he gets ahold of himself and gives the order to tie down everything that isn’t secured and for all hands on deck. Veritas and Topaz stumble off first, making quick work of the ship, but you linger by his side a bit longer.

“This is no natural storm, is it?”

“... No,” he responds, his voice clipped as he fights to keep the Lady Luck buoyant. “It isn’t.”

You’re emerging from your quarters when you think you hear a melodic voice drifting over the choppy waves, singing an unknown yet enchanting tune. For all your time spent in taverns and performing in them, you’ve never heard anyone with a voice even close to the one you’re hearing right now. The voice is clear and high-pitched and whoever’s singing hits every note perfectly. You feel yourself go limp and you begin seeking out the voice, even getting up on shaky legs before Veritas yanks you back down. With the last of his strength, he shoves wax into your ears before he too falls victim to the song. Topaz, with her ears safely covered, takes the initiative and with your help, manages to subdue him enough for you to plug his ears. Not an easy task for a man of his size and build actively struggling against your hold. 

You’re practically deaf now. All you can hear is the loudest of the waves crashing against the ship’s hull and the thunder booming directly overhead. Topaz roughly shakes you and you manage to make out what she’s saying even with the heavy rain obscuring your vision.

“What about our captain?!”

Ice courses through your veins. She’s right. You were so caught up in saving yourselves that you’ve left your captain completely defenseless. Oh no.

But when you look around, you see your captain still at the helm, seemingly immune to the siren’s song drifting through the air. He fights the ocean at every turn and spins the wheel to and fro as heavy waves tip her from side to side. He eventually manages to stabilize the ship for long enough to where you can get back up on your feet after being thrown around like a rag doll. Long enough for you to lock the rest of the ship up. 

You cling to anything you can get your hands on as you slowly make your back to the deck, but it’s surprisingly difficult. Your whole body hurts from being thrown around, your arms are sore from holding onto anything for dear life, and your balance is off. Your feet keep slipping and sliding and when you make your way to the deck, you see why: the Lady Luck’s prow is pointed directly up and you already know what’s going to happen next.

“Hold fast!” shouts Aventurine. In the instant before the ice-cold waters sweep over you, Ratio grabs you and Topaz around the waist and hunkers down in the corner of the deck, gripping the railing with all his strength while you latch your arms around his waist. You manage to squeeze your eyes shut and inhale before the force of the rushing waters hits you. Even with your iron-clad grip around him, the bone-chilling cold temperature of the ocean plunges you head-first into shock and your grip loosens up ever so slightly- just enough for you to be swept away. Your limp body is harshly thrown against a corner- something cracks upon impact and needle-sharp pain shoots up your spine- before another wave lifts you up and over the railing, plunging you into the endless, swirling depths. 

“Cap’n! (Name)’s gone overboard!”

The water sloshing around on the deck comes up to his knees now. Aventurine looks down at his legs, then toward the churning seas, then back at his legs. Without any hesitation, he tosses his coat aside and jumps overboard to the astonishment of Topaz and Ratio.

“Captain!”

“You damned gambler! Have you gone insane?!”

Everything sounds muffled and distant as you sink further down and down. Your lungs are burning and your vision is beginning to darken as you gaze up at the hull of the Lady Luck that’s growing smaller. 

Is this… it? And just when I think I’ve finally found the life I’ve been searching for… 

You think you see something dart by- a fish? No, it’s too big for one. The tail is a shiny lilac but the top half is that of a woman. Silvery hair flows out behind her as she stares at you curiously and you realize it’s a mermaid as she swims away. You gasp out of shock, only to regret it instantly when you begin gasping frantically for air after you accidentally inhale some water. You desperately claw and fight your way to the surface but it’s no use; your legs feel like lead and soon your arms follow. 

Right as your consciousness fades and the world goes black, you see a familiar face swimming toward you. Blond hair, multicolored eyes…

Captain? What’re you doing here?

There’s an uncharacteristic regretful look on his face as he gets closer. He says something- you can’t hear it- before he pulls you in gently and kisses you so softly you barely feel the brush of his lips against yours. 

A shimmering teal tail, the same kind as the mermaid you saw earlier, is the last thing you see. 

You feel something warm and heavy nestled against your side. Two of them, actually.

It feels like you’ve been asleep for a very, very long time. It’s a struggle to open your eyes as if they’ve been sealed shut and your body feels stiff. It’s all too easy to fall back asleep, but… 

Upon opening your eyes, you’re greeted with the sight of Numby and Doubloon curled up against you. The former squeals and the latter meows anxiously now that you’re awake. You gently pet their heads.

“... Good morning to you two as well.”

Your voice comes out so hoarse and scratchy you almost get secondhand embarrassment from hearing it. Upon closer examination, you realize you’re in Aventurine’s quarters but there’s no sight of him. You do, however, see Topaz passing by in the door left ajar. She gasps loudly at seeing you moving around and almost drops whatever she’s holding to rush inside.

“You’re awake! Good, we were all so worried, especially Aventurine.”

“Ugh… quiet down a bit please. How long was I out for?”

“Almost a day and a half.”

You slowly shift into an upright sitting position, wincing when you feel a sharp stabbing pain in your chest. Topaz is immediately at your side, helping you up and covering you with furs and blankets when your teeth start chattering uncontrollably. Looks like the chill of the waters penetrated deep into your bones. 

“Easy now. You got some nasty injuries when you went overboard, such as a few fractured ribs. Ratio had to be the one to patch you up after Cap’n brought you aboard and-” her words are punctuated with a light-hearted chuckle “-I’ve never seen him so anxious for a person to wake up. Don’t tell him I said that though.”

She leaves and you lift up the handheld mirror on the nightstand, getting the first good look of yourself since almost drowning. You look relatively the same, save for the bruises all over your exposed skin and the sling your left arm is in. 

“You’re very lucky that you only got off with some fractured ribs, a broken arm, and a bunch of bruises. You very well could’ve died out there,” says Topaz as she walks back into the room with a warm drink in hand. “Ratio’s words, not mine. Although, he’s right.”

You accept the drink and after realizing what it is, gulp it down eagerly. Hot rum with honey, lemon, and cinnamon. A favorite of yours and a classic remedy whenever someone on the ship falls ill. Topaz makes it the best though. 

You stare down at the now-empty cup in your hands, its residual heat warming up your cold hands. It takes a while for your memory to be jogged, but you suddenly remember Aventurine going overboard too.

“Wait, Aventurine, where is-”

“In the bathroom waiting for you. He’s been quite moody ever since returning.”

You think back to when he saved you at death’s doorstep and you loudly gasp when you recall the last thing you saw. Your thoughts must’ve been written all over your face because Topaz merely sighs and takes the empty cup from your hands.

“... I’ll let him explain everything.”

She helps you to your feet and leaves you be. You hesitantly knock on the door and are instantaneously greeted with a “come in” from the other side. 

You see why Aventurine has been confined to the bathroom. The first thing you see is a long teal-colored tail shimmering and swaying lazily side to side in the dim candlelight; far too big for the tiny confines of the bathtub your captain is currently soaking in. The fins are long and slightly translucent at the ends as they smack against the floor upon seeing you enter. You stay frozen in place, eyes trailing up from his fins toward his face. The scales that you swear you’d see peeking out underneath his collar sometimes are on full display now. Patches of them are littered across his chest, arms and face. His hands are webbed now and so are his ears tinged green at the tips and peeking out beneath the mess of blond hair. The sharp fins along his forearms slice cleanly through the water as he shifts around and the gills on his neck flare upon seeing you. 

He stays frozen in place, watching. And waiting for your reaction. For what feels like eternity, none of you speak or even dare to breathe until you finally make the first move. You shakily laugh and exhale- he jolts at the sound- and you sink to your knees besides him, albeit with some difficulty. When you finally do speak, it’s with a gentle voice as you’re eyeing his tail resting in your lap.

“So that explains it all. And here I was wondering if I was hallucinating seeing you with scales.”

Aventurine lets out a laugh of sheer relief. His shoulders droop and he slouches against the edge of the bathtub, all tension seemingly dissipating from his body. He seems to take notice of your injuries after he’s relaxed. A webbed finger reaches out to lightly trace your arm in a sling and he frowns at the sight.

“... I’m sorry.”

You blink, astonished.

“What?”

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, and that’s all he has to say. 

“It’s just some broken bones,” you lightly respond. “Inconvenient, sure, but nothing I can’t recover from. Besides, you saved me from certain death.”

“It’s not just about that. I narrowly avoided the nightmare I saw in my dreams, but at what cost?”

He goes quiet and refuses to elaborate. You decide it’s for the better to change the topic.

“So… care to tell me about your tail?”

Aventurine sighs. He knew he wouldn’t be able to keep this a secret from you forever, but he’s still a bit hesitant to tell you.

“Exposure to waist-deep water gives me legs and vice versa thanks to a deal I made with Jade a long time ago. In exchange for getting to experience life as a human, I would have to bring promising people to her door and continuously supply her with valuables.”

“Jade is a… sea witch?”

Aventurine snorts and scoffs. 

“What, did she not seem enough of a conniving witch the first time you met her?”

“Fair enough,” you concede. “But what made you want to experience life on land?”

“It wasn’t a choice.”

“Oh.”

Your eyes land on the tattoo on the side of his neck that’s on full display now. You dare not say what it spells out loud. He scratches at the spot, conveniently covering it with his hand, and silence fills the space for a bit. 

“What happened after the storm passed?”

You break the silence first. He seems relieved at the distraction and begins playing with the pearl bracelet fastened around your wrist. 

“The storm passed almost as soon as I rescued you. I brought you back to the surface, where-”

“Wait, does that mean Veritas and Topaz know you’re-”

He sighs and nods. You falter a bit.

“... How did they react?”

Aventurine thinks back for a bit. 

“I think they were just surprised. I don’t think they’ve fully processed it either.”

He laughs and shrugs.

“I can’t blame them. Their captain and a feared creature among sailors are one and the same.”

He sighs and looks at the closed bathroom door.

“They’ve been giving me a wide berth since then…” 

“I’m sure they’ll come around. They just need some more time,” you reassure. “But what happened after that?” you ask, pressing for more information. His tail curls around your waist and swiftly pulls you closer to the bathtub- he’s surprisingly strong in this form, you quickly realize as you squirm around only for him to not budge one bit. You rest your tired head against your arms and gaze at him with half-lidded eyes that he meets unflinchingly with a gaze of his own and a lazy smile. 

“Once you’re feeling better, go thank Ratio for his prompt medical care. As soon as I resurfaced, he practically yanked you out of my arms and started treating you. You inhaled quite a bit of water and Ratio had to get you to cough it all out. A bit gross, seeing it unfold in front of my eyes.”

“... You saw it all?” you ask, horrified and disgusted.

His lazy smile turns impish and he flicks some water toward you.

“Ah, you should’ve seen yourself,” he muses out loud. “Flopping around on the deck like a fish out of water and soaked to the point where you looked like Doubloon during bath time. It made for quite the sight- wait, don’t leave!”

He reaches out to you desperately and his tail tightens even more around your waist. You shoot him a withering glare before settling back down again. 

“The storm calmed down soon after I saved you,” he continues. “The Lady Luck sustained some damage to the sails and she sprung a few leaks in the hull, but nothing that Ratio and Topaz weren’t able to repair. Later, you woke up and here we are.”

“Really? That’s it?”

“Really, that’s it,” he repeats. 

“What a coincidence it stops after narrowly escaping death,” you grumble. He rolls his eyes.

“No kidding,” he scoffs. 

Aventurine plucks a glimmering scale off and holds it out like a peace offering to you. It shifts between colors in the candlelight, going from pink to green to gold with a holographic sheen covering it. He notices the confused expression you wear and lightly laughs.

“What? Didn’t you know, mermaid scales are exceedingly valuable?”

You hold it closer, entranced by its dancing colors.

“I thought most of the ones on the market are frauds though?”

“That they are. But a real, genuine scale… those are only offered to the richest of the rich at a closed auction.”

“Yet here I am with one in my hand, free of charge.”

Aventurine laughs and plucks off another one for you. A look of hesitation crosses your face.

“... Doesn’t that hurt?”

“A little,” he admits. “But it’s nothing I can’t handle. Besides, they grow back.”

His words do nothing to budge the frown on your face and Aventurine makes a mental note to claim a scale fell off from natural causes the next time he gifts you one.

“How long do they take to grow back then?”

“... A long time,” he confesses after a beat of silence. 

“... I see why they’re so expensive now.”

You glance down at the two shining scales in your palm. Perhaps you’ll make jewelry out of them- an earring to match with your captain doesn’t sound half-bad…

But your curiosity is piqued now. Mermaids are the stuff of legends and you have one sitting in front of you. A few questions couldn’t hurt, right?

“What else can you do?”

His tail flicks back and forth excitedly. Anything to impress you!

“We can cry pearls and other valuable jewels. Want to see?”

“Wait, don’t make yourself cry-”

Too late. Fat tears slide down his cheeks, condensing into something round and shiny before landing with a soft clink in his hands. Perfect pearls and tumbled sea glass pile up in his palms and you spot some shiny green stones- aventurine stones. He holds them out to you with an expectant look in his eyes. Your captain looks less of a fearsome mythical creature and more like an… eager puppy. You can’t possibly say no to such a face so with a resigned sigh, you accept his offering. 

“... Thank you, but please don’t make this a common occurrence in the future. I don’t want to see you cry.”

He pouts, fins drooping. Boo. There goes a courting attempt out the window. 

Like a puppy, you think as you watch him sulk in the bathtub. You poke at one of Ratio’s rubber ducks Aventurine had stolen from him bobbing along the water’s surface.

“You aren’t horrified?” he asks once he grows bored of staring at the duck. 

“Why would I be?”

“Don’t give me that. You know exactly what I mean.”

His tail swishes side to side agitatedly and his ears simultaneously flatten against his head and fold downwards. 

“Do you realize what I could do to you right now?” he asks in a low tone. “I could pull you under my song, strip you of your defenses, outwit you at every turn despite how clever you are…”

You’re leaning in unknowingly. A grin tugs at the corner of his mouth and he leans in closer, twirling a strand of your hair around a clawed finger. 

“I’ll infiltrate your mind and charm you into doing things you’d never think of doing,” he continues, voice even lower and softer now. “I could tell you to walk the plank and you would do it, no questions asked. I could drag you beneath the depths with me and no one would even notice you’re gone. Ah, but you’re already under my spell, aren’t you?”

“... What?”

“Exactly. I could even do… this!”

With a sudden yank, he pulls you into the tub with him. Water splashes over the edge onto the floor and you scream. Even so, he holds tight and winds his tail tightly around you, nuzzling his cheek against yours and nipping your cheeks. They’re love bites more than anything else, but you shudder at the thought of how different the situation could be had he not been so head over heels for you. 

You also shudder as the cold water soaks through your clothes and sends a chill up your spine. 

“Let me go. The water’s cold.”

Aventurine merely holds onto you even tighter. Tucked into the crook of his neck like this, you can see his gills rapidly opening and closing out of contentment and the self-satisfied smile stretching wide across his face. He seems content to stay in this position for ages, leaning in to bury his nose into your hair and press kisses to your cheek repeatedly, but it’s only until you start shivering that he reluctantly lets go. 

Before you step out the tub, he holds his left hand out. You hesitantly extend your right hand out until he gently bats it away and gestures for your left hand instead. It’s bundled in a sling but you manage to make it work somehow. 

“There we go,” he says once your palm is pressed against his. “Now, close your eyes.”

You do as he says and thick, syrupy words flow like honey from his mouth. The words practically stick together as his voice rises and falls melodically in some unknown language. It sounds soothing, in the way a mother’s voice would lull a child to sleep. 

“There,” he whispers after a peck to your forehead. “All done. You can open your eyes now.”

“What was that?”

“... A prayer,” he admits. “A prayer for your continued health and safety.”

There’s a funny feeling in your stomach and you fight back the stupid smile creeping onto your face. 

“You shouldn’t have. But thank you.”

You curl your good arm around him and with a sharp heave, lift him up. His long tail snakes around your waist and you almost fall over from the weight.

“Stop that! You’re heavy!”

“How heartless of you.”

You dunk him back into the bathtub unceremoniously. His tail splits down the middle and scales begin falling off rapidly in patches. The fins shrivel and dissolve and pearly-smooth legs soon emerge. With a start, you try to look away but he merely scoffs and languidly stretches out in your arms.

“What? It’s nothing you haven’t already seen.”

Now fully dressed, Aventurine emerges onto the deck with you in hand. Topaz is playing fetch with Numby and Doubloon while Ratio is at the helm. The two pets, upon seeing you, dash over to you and run in circles around you with Numby oinking and Doubloon meowing excitedly. Topaz all but topples you over in an excited hug while your navigator scolds her, reminding the woman of your frail condition. 

“How are you feeling?” asks Veritas as he comes to a stop before you. You hum and beam at him.

“Never felt better thanks to your immediate care.”

He brushes your compliments off with a scoff and a wave of his hand, all accompanied by his usual eye roll. 

“Think nothing of it. It was merely my duty.”

Topaz leans against you from behind while Ratio coughs and steps back from you a bit. They eye your captain with the respect and admiration they always have, but now there’s a hint of skepticism underlying it all. 

“Gambler, we deserve an explanation for what happened back there,” demands Veritas. Aventurine sighs and shakes his head. 

“I know, but that’ll happen in due time. For now, let’s just… keep moving forward.”

He takes the helm. Ratio hoists the sails and Topaz climbs up to the crow’s nest to keep lookout. Things are never going to be quite the same as before now, but that’s alright in your eyes. Everyone boarded the Lady Luck for their own reasons and their captain secretly being a mermaid in disguise doesn’t change any of that. You boarded the ship to carve out a life for yourself you would’ve never had back on land. Ratio boarded to spread knowledge. Topaz boarded to bring change into the world. Your captain has already helped those dreams come true. Nothing the legends say will do anything to sway your opinion on him. 

There will come a day when the Lady Luck will complete her last voyage, Aventurine will have to return to the seas, and the crew will be disbanded, but that day isn’t today. It won’t be when he comes clean to the crew either. Rather, it’ll be in the far future when no amount of repairs can keep the Lady Luck from falling apart and you’re no longer able to handle the challenges of life at sea. But you’ll cross that bridge when you get there. 

The seas are calm. It’s clear out with a strong breeze that cools you off amidst the sun’s sweltering rays. Ratio is repairing a tear in one of the sails that escaped his earlier attention while Topaz hums a tune she picked up from you atop the crow’s nest, scouting the surrounding waters. You meet Aventurine’s gaze out the corner of your eye. Wordlessly, he pulls you into his side with one arm as you look out upon the ocean. 

“Have you accomplished your goal of conquering the seven seas?” you tease. He scoffs and smirks.

“Oh, I did that a long time ago already. But there’s one last desire I have yet to fulfill.”

“And what might that be?”

He gazes down at you silently, yet the silence between you speaks volumes. A raised eyebrow and a head tilt. A cheeky wink and a kiss to your forehead. An exasperated sigh from your two crewmates as you pull away from returning the kiss.

There’s always one question you ask when heading to a new destination, and this time is no different. Gazing into his multicolored eye, you can’t imagine yourself anywhere else other than here, now and forever. 

“So where to next, Captain?”

enjoyed my work? the taglist is open!

@ theother-victoria, do not copy, repost, modify, translate, or feed to ai

[wlntrsldler]

poisoned mercury (smut blurb) | r u mine?

MDNI! 18+. no tags for this one.

a/n: can be read alone (the only context you need is that luke calls reader 'five star') or as part of the poisoned mercury series!

series masterlist | set after just friends

r u mine? by arctic monkeys

the kiss started slow, like the two of you were trying to soak in the moment, content with the feeling of having your bodies connected. luke’s hands were hovering over your waist, testing the waters, unsure how far he could take it. you, on the other hand, weren’t shy. your fingers tangled in his curls, softly tugging, almost taunting him to let go of his apprehensions. 

you pressed your lips harder against his own, a groan escaping his lips at your consent. his hands gripped the skin of your hips, rougher this time, pushing your bottom half against his own. you gasped against his lips, pulling away briefly to catch your breath, “luke.” 

“say my name again,” his voice dripped in agony like he was in excruciating pain that it took him this long to hear his name from your lips like this. he wanted to hear it again and again and again, in shallow breaths, in broken murmurs, as you kissed his lips. 

you left pecks along his scar before running your tongue over its ridges. it was primal, almost only fueled by desire and lust, but when you pulled away to view the hazed look on his face, you knew that it was never going to be purely physical with luke. something more intimate than your bodies pressed against each other remained. it always will. he pushed you against his chest, foot kicking the door to your room shut, “luke.” 

“fuck, five star,” luke groaned into your collarbone, sucking and nipping at your neck, “you drive me fucking crazy.” 

you tilted your head back, giving him more access. his lips sucked on the expanse of your exposed skin, moaning loudly as he soothed the red marks with the warmth of his tongue, “feeling’s mutual.” 

you took his hand in yours, leading him to your bed. the back of your knees hit your bed frame and you fell with a soft thud, shoving the decorative pillows on the floor. luke leaned over you, the silver chain of his necklace dangling in between your bodies. his lips were raw from kissing, his hair mused in a messy way that had you weak in the knees, and his eyes were darker than you’d ever seen them. your hands shoved his flannel off his shoulders, sighing when you felt the bumps of his biceps flex under your touch. gods, he was painstakingly attractive. 

once his flannel was discarded on the floor, he leaned back down to continue his attack on your lips. his arms were on either side of you, caging you in as if he wanted you to stay there, under him. you weren’t planning on leaving. you tugged on the neckline of his white t-shirt, pulling him flush against your body. 

luke laid on top of you, hand snaking to cradle your jaw as he kissed you. he could get lost in this feeling. now that he’s had a taste of you, he didn’t think he could ever stop craving you. he was drunk. he was addicted. he wanted more. 

“off,” you sighed into his mouth, tugging on his white shirt. “please, need to feel you.” 

“jesus,” luke whined, tongue darting out of the corner of his lips. he pulled his shirt off, tossing it somewhere in your room. he was making a mess in your pristine room, but right now he couldn’t bring himself to care, not when you were looking at him like you needed him. “you can’t say things like that.” 

your eyes left his face for a moment, looking down to trace the lines of his abs and his v-line. luke’s breath hitched in his throat as you dragged your finger right on top of the button on his jeans. you leaned in, placing kisses on his stomach, eyes looking up at him. you looked sinful like this. dazed with your siren eyes, silently pleading for him to make a mess of you. luke could never deny you of what you wanted, especially not this. 

your pretty manicured fingers reached up to his chest, scratching just enough to turn his skin red. luke hissed, having to look away from you for a moment. you opened your legs, letting him slot himself between them. his cock was hard against your thigh and you moaned at the feeling. your noises were driving him crazy. he hasn’t even touched you yet, but you had a fucked out look on your face already. 

when you took off your top, luke couldn’t help but pounce on you. he buried his face between your tits, pulling down the bra you wore to leave hickeys along your skin. he wanted to mark you, leave you reminders of this night for the next few days. 

he inched closer to your nipples, looking up at you in permission. you nodded and luke wrapped his lips around the hardened buds. he relished in the feeling of your back arching, pushing him closer to your chest, and the feeling of your fingers finding their way back into his head of curls. he closed his eyes, as if he was dreaming, and if he was, he didn’t want to wake up from this. he’ll gladly stay here forever. 

your hands fumbled with the zipper of his pants and he took that as a sign to do the same with yours. he trailed sloppy kisses back up to your lips where you were met with all teeth and tongue. you were both breathless at this point, but neither of you cared. oxygen be damned, this is what living feels like. 

“fuck,” luke muttered when he saw the wet patch on your underwear. his cock was straining against his boxers, pre-cum leaking against the fabric. he grinded his hips against yours, letting out a whimper at the contact. “can i go down on you?” 

you flushed at his request, turning your head to the side in shyness, “you don’t have to.” 

“i want to,” he whispered, getting on his knees. he kissed your thighs, coming closer to your cunt after each one. he bit his lip, brushing his thumb against your slick-covered underwear. he waited for your answer, patient despite the pain of his hardened cock. he used his other hand to push against it, trying to alleviate some of the pressure. “been dreaming about eating this pussy for weeks, five star. wanna make you feel good.” 

“yes,” you panted, nodding. 

luke’s smirk returned to his face as he pulled down your underwear. a string of your arousal connected the cloth to your pussy and luke wanted to dive in and stay in there for hours. his pupils widened when he saw how wet you were for him. without another word, he placed his tongue flat against your cunt, licking and rubbing against your clit. you thrashed around on the bed, overwhelmed by the mastery of his tongue. 

luke’s chin was already covered by you, but he wasn’t going to stop there. he ran his middle finger and ring finger down your slit, coating them with your arousal before putting them inside. he rutted his cock against the softness of your plush blanket, trying to get some sort of friction. he could cum like this, watching you be overtaken by waves of pleasure because of him. 

his fingers moved expertly inside you, scissoring inside, stretching you out deliciously. you were tight around his fingers and his mind could only imagine how you would feel around him. the images he was conjuring up weren’t helping his situation. his cock was dripping, red, and angry, trying to find its own release. he used his other hand to push his boxers down, rubbing the tip of his cock with his thumb. 

he looked up at you, moaning into your cunt as he watched your face contort in pleasure. there was a thin layer of sweat on your skin, making you glisten under the light of your room. luke removed his hand from his boxers and pressed his arm against your tummy, keeping you still. your fingers tugged on his hair, “luke, i’m close.” 

he pulled away for a second, “yeah?” 

“yeah,” you whined, craning your neck to look at him. he was covered in you, eyes lidded like this was the hottest thing he’d ever done in his life. and it was. nothing could ever compare to this, luke thinks. 

he returned his attention to your clit, licking the bud until you were convulsing against him. you came with a loud whimper, repeating the only word your brain remembered. luke. luke. luke. he was convinced this is what he’ll hear when he ascends to heaven, the sound of your voice moaning out his name after he made you cum. 

you had to pull him off of you. he wasn’t stopping after giving you a mind-blowing orgasm. it was like he forgot about his own release for a moment, only focused on making you feel good. you pulled him by the chain of his necklace to connect your lips once more. you groaned when you tasted yourself on his tongue. 

your hands pulled down his boxers before wrapping your hand around the base of his cock. luke threw his head back in pleasure at the feeling of your soft, small hand pumping his cock, thumb collecting the precum on his tip. you whispered, “can i return the favor?” 

“as much as i would love that, five star. i need to be inside you,” luke replied, twitching as you ran your finger along the bulging vein on his cock. 

“next time, then?” 

luke didn’t know it was possible for him to get harder than he was right now, but the implication that this will happen again, that the next time your pretty, pink lips would be around his cock, made his muscles tense. he breathed out, “yeah, next time.” 

you smiled at him, all sultry and desperate, before leaning over to your bedside table to pull out a condom. luke reached out to grab it from you but you shook your head. you ripped the foil with your teeth and rolled the rubber on his cock, slowly, jerking him off in the process. he was going crazy. 

you moved around on your bed so your head was resting on the pillows. luke followed you, hovering over your naked body. he’ll take his time with you next time, keep you like this for hours, but for now, he needed to be inside you. when the tip of his cock entered you, luke had to pause. the tightness of your cunt made his head spin. 

“more,” you murmured against his skin, arms clinging around him as if you needed to be grounded. “please, i need more.” 

he pushed deeper into you until he was all the way inside. he groaned loudly when he felt your walls constrict around him. luke felt pure bliss being inside you like this. he thrusted in and out, moans and the sound of skin slapping echoing throughout the empty room. he looked down at where the two of you connected, cursing at how he could see the bulge of his cock inside you. the sounds you were making were pornographic. 

“s’big, luke,” you sighed, eyes rolling to the back of your head. your hair was sprawled across your pillows, small braids in your hair already coming undone. the makeup you wore smudged around your eyes as tears fell. “you feel s’good.” 

your words were slurred like your brain was shutting down from the pleasure you felt. luke knew he sounded similar, “fuck, five star. your pussy is perfect. made for me, yeah?” 

“yours,” you choked out, digging your nails down his back. you could feel his muscles stiffen. luke loved how it felt on his skin. he knew there would be marks left on his back that would have him fucking his fist thinking of this moment every time he sees them. he wants this moment etched in his brain forever. 

“mine,” luke said, arms giving out. he pressed his chest against your body, continuing to thrust into you with fervor. his lips found your neck again, adding more marks to his earlier additions. 

you were feeling so many things at once. it was almost too much, too good. you were quickly being pushed to your ends again. you sucked on his earlobe, the cold metal of his piercing soothing your tongue. you pressed your lips against his ear, voice broken as you spoke, “i’m coming.” 

luke didn’t want this to end, but he was close, too. it was hard not to be when you were taking him so well, whispering dirty words in his ear, and looking the way you did as he unraveled you. you shuddered when your second orgasm of the night hit, a string of curses as you made a mess on his cock. luke lifted himself up from you, sweat dripping down his forehead, “i’m close.” 

“want you to finish in my mouth, please, luke,” you begged, wide-eyed. 

“shit,” he pulled out of you, taking off the condom on his cock as he jerked himself off. he didn’t let himself blink, not wanting to miss a moment of his. he guided the tip of his dick to your parted lips, hips stuttering as white ropes of cum covered your eager tongue. luke took his thumb, cleaning up the corners of your mouth. he let out a smile as you swallowed his load, opening your mouth for him to show him that you wasted no drop. 

luke collapsed on the bed beside you, spent and empty. he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you to his chest. he kissed the top of your head, soaking in the feeling of your body warmth against his own. you hummed in content, placing your head on his chest. 

“so,” he trailed off, looking down at you with a teasing smile, “there’s a next time?” 

you rolled your eyes, pushing yourself away from him, “not if you’re gonna be annoying about it.” 

luke let out a laugh, pulling you back to him. he grabbed the blanket on your bed and draped it over the both of you when he noticed you shivering. he placed a tender kiss on your lips, placing his forehead against yours, “i’ll try not to be, five star.”

[deiitsukki]

OMG I JUST READ SUNA’S SITUATIONSHIP DHSHD PLEASE GIVE A PART TWO OMD 😭😭

Us again | Suna R.

Sequel of Situationship.

Tw:(Y/n was slightly harassed, Fingering, F! Receiving, finger licking, Vaginal Penetration, Creampie)

The waves rolled in, steady as always, lapping against the shore of Suna Rintarō's memories. The beach he often retreated to felt different now—emptier, quieter, haunted by the absence of someone he hadn't realized he needed until you were gone. It was here, among the silvered sands and whispering tides, that he had first brought you.

The thought of your laughter as you met his family for the first time still echoed in his mind like the lingering notes of a forgotten melody.

But you had left. 

You’d vanished into the horizon without a backward glance, chasing a life you had always deserved to follow. Suna hadn’t stopped you, he didn't have the rights to, after treating you like shit, No. He hadn’t said the words that had been festering in his heart: Don’t go. I need you. He hadn’t realized how deeply he meant it until the silence you left behind filled his life.

Months passed. The ache in his chest grew heavier with every passing day. Suna had always been composed, calm, and unshaken, but now he felt like a ship adrift, rudderless. He found himself wandering back to the beach often, staring at the stars that once witnessed your presence.

“Why am I doing this to myself?” he muttered one night, sitting alone by the fire-pit you both had once shared. His voice was swallowed by the wind, offering no answers. It wasn’t like him to dwell on things he couldn’t control, but nothing else felt right anymore.

It was Atsumu who finally dragged him out of his gloom. “C’mon, Rintarō, yer a mess,” the setter declared with a clap on the back. “Yer comin’ to the party with me. It’ll do ya good to let loose a little.”

Suna scowled. “Not interested.”

“Not a question, ya loner. I’m not lettin’ ya rot away.”

And so, reluctantly, Suna found himself standing in the pulsing chaos of a massive club. The bass pounded through his chest, the crowd a sea of unfamiliar faces. It wasn’t his scene, but Atsumu had been relentless. He sipped at his drink, keeping to the edges, eyes distant.

Until they weren’t.

You were there.

In the center of the dance floor, under a kaleidoscope of neon lights, Y/N. your hair moved like silk in the dim glow, your laughter rising above the music like a siren’s song. you spun, carefree, lost in the rhythm, and for a moment, Suna thought he was imagining you.

But it was real. you were real. And you looked radiant—until his gaze darkened. A man he didn’t recognize grabbed your arm roughly, pulling you too close. your smile faltered, confusion and discomfort clouding your expression.

Suna moved before he even realized it.

“Hey,” he called, his voice low, sharp like a blade slicing through the din. “Get your hands off her.”

The man looked at him, sneering. “And who’re you supposed to be?”

Suna’s eyes narrowed. He stepped forward, his height and the weight of his glare sending a clear message. “The guy who’ll make sure you regret it if you don’t walk away right now.”

The man released you with a scoff and disappeared into the crowd. you swayed slightly, your drunken state evident. you blinked up at Suna, your expression a mix of surprise and recognition.

“Rin…?” you murmured, voice soft, uncertain.

“Let’s get you out of here,” he said simply, slipping an arm around you to steady you.

The ride to his apartment was quiet. you leaned against him, murmuring incoherent apologies between bouts of half-asleep silence. Suna didn’t respond, his mind a whirlwind of emotions.

Once inside, he guided you to the couch, kneeling in front of you to remove your heels. 

“You shouldn’t drink so much,” he muttered, more to himself than you.

you giggled, your words slurring. “You’re still…so bossy, Rin.”

He looked up at you then, his breath catching. Even in your disheveled state, you were still breathtaking. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed you until now, with you so close yet so far.

“You’re a mess,” he said softly, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face.

“And you’re…still brooding,” you countered, your gaze locking onto his. The air between them shifted, heavy and electric.

“Why did you leave?” The question slipped out before he could stop it.

Your eyes glistened, tears threatening to fall. “You know why, Rin. I couldn’t stay. Not when…” you trailed off, voice cracking.

“Not when I was too blind to see what I had,” he finished for you, his voice barely above a whisper.

your lips parted to respond, but before you could, he leaned in, capturing them in a kiss that was both desperate and tender. you froze for a moment before melting into him, your hands tangling in his hair. The world outside ceased to exist; there was only the two of you, a collision of longing and unspoken words.

Clothes fell away like forgotten promises as they tumbled into his room. His hands traced the familiar curves of her body, rediscovering the territory he thought he’d lost forever.

“Rin…” you whispered, his name a prayer on your lips.

“Y/N,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m sorry. For everything.”

you silenced him with another kiss, your touch conveying what words couldn’t.

“Let me make it up to you, love.” the nickname rolled off on his tongue so smooth, and you forgot how long have you waited just for him to call you that.

He broke the kiss, lifting your dress up, his fingers tracing your pale legs as one of his fingers hooked on your laced thongs, he chuckels, quickly removing your underwear.

“Open your mouth” he demanded, and you obeyed, opening your mouth, he then puts his ring and middle finger in your mouth, your tongue swirling arount it.

“Still a good girl huh.” he praises you while chuckling as he removes his saliva covered fingers inside of your mouth. Without aqny warning he inserted his fingers in your pussy, slowly pumping in and out of you, you moaned at the sensation you felt.

He continues to finger you, while rubbing your clit and you moaned at every rhytym of his pace. you could feel a knot began to form inside of you, and he notices this as your toe curled, fingers clawing his arm “Oh fuck rin~” you whimpered, but he suddenly stops and you looked at him in disbelief.

“Why would you do that?” you whined “I was about to cum” you said

“Oh sorry love-” he apologizes and you noticed him stripping out of his clothes and so you did too, you slowly slipped your dress out off you, so you were both bare “I just wanted you cumming in my cock not on my fingers.” he continued as he took your legs into his broad shoulders.

He then lined his hard dick in your entrace, slowly putting it in. You sighed a moan, his pace just slow and you could feel his thick cock moving in and out of your wet pussy.

“Oh god you're so good~” he moaned out, feeling the warmth of your insides “Fuck- so fucking warm.” he curses under his breath as he continue to fuck you slow.

“Rin~” you purred in his ears as your hands snaked around his neck combing the back of his hair, you stared at his eyes pleadingly “Fuck me good, Fuck me fast” you moaned staring straight into his soul

the way you said and the way you stared at him drives him nothing but more crazier. wadting no time, he obliges, His pace picking up and becoming more faster, you could feel him trying to burry his cock deep into your tight cunt and you felt none but pure bliss.

“Oh~ Oh f-fuck” you moaned as your wine red nails dug into his broad back, he delivered a had thrust in your pussy making you rake your fingers in his back, he winces at the sting but secretly likes it 

“Oh shit- I'm gonna cum” he moaned, his thrust becomming more sloppier, cock burrying more deep, your pussy tightens around his cock making him groan “Shit- Don't squeeze me like that love” he said as he enhales a deep breath.

“Gonna cum too rin fuck-” you cried out as you can feel yourself reaching your climax “Cum on my cock love” he said, and you did. You came on his cock as you felt him emptied his loads inside of your pussy, His cock still throbbing as he burried his cock still in your pussy, you both moaned as the pleasure of reaching the climax hits you both.

In the darkness, you both found each other again, two halves of a whole that had been broken for too long.

The next morning, sunlight streamed through the curtains, casting a golden glow over the tangled sheets. Suna woke to find you nestled against him, your breathing soft and steady. He tightened his arms around you, pressing a kiss to your hair.

“Stay this time,” he whispered, his voice raw.

you stirred, eyes fluttering open. You looked up at him, your gaze soft but hesitant.

“Only if you promise to not treat me as casual again,” You said, your voice barely audible.

“I promise,” he vowed, pulling you closer.

And for the first time in months, Suna Rintarō felt whole again.

special mention to: @strwbivy @erensdickgarage @hrtfelts

[infi8ity]

nsfw. | MDI.

∞

NANAMI KENTO WOULD LEAVE HIS WIFE FOR YOU. a truth that crystallized with an intoxicating certainty after a week of nights spent watching your set at the gentleman’s club.

always front and center, whiskey in hand, suit undone, he lounged with his arms draped over the plush velvet red sofa he paid a hefty sum for each night—just to throw you quadruple that on to the stage. if it weren’t for his old lady at home, he would empty his wallet at your feet without a second thought.

after late nights at the office on a business trip miles from home, he could never forget how he had stumbled across club and caught a glimpse of the flashing marquee: “dirty diana.” your name alone sent a thrill throughout him, pulling him in like a moth to a flame.

one glimpse turned into a nightly ritual, each visit an escape from the job slowly eating him alive and failing marriage quickly driving him to insanity. each moment with you a tantalizing promise he couldn't resist. each gaze shared, full of lust and curiosity— intensified his temptation of infidelity.

he could do nothing as he was sucked deeper into a world where all he could think about was you.

you moved under the dim LED lights with a sultry confidence that captivated him completely, each sway of your body around the steel iron pole a siren’s call that lured him further away from his faithfulness. as you danced, every movement seemed to whisper promises he longed to fulfill. a sea of men came to watch your performance every night, but your gaze only found him.

and with that— he knew nothing about you, only that he needed you.

he needed you so badly that the moment you approached him after your fifth set of the week to thank him for his generosity and support, all of his morals shattered in an instant.

he needed you so badly that it took every ounce of restraint not to cum in his pants the moment he heard you speak for the first time—your voice a sultry melody that wrapped around him like a warm embrace. he needed you so badly that within an hour of meeting and sharing a few drinks with you, he was driving you back with him to the penthouse suite of his hotel down the road. he needed you so badly, that he didn't dare feel an ounce of shame when binding your hands together above your head with the tie that your wife gifted you last christmas.

he needed you so badly, that he didn't even have the decency to remove the silver wedding band on his left index finger as he palmed your beautiful tits in between his fingers or as you sucked your own juices clean from his digits.

how could he feel like a horrible person for cheating when your pussy felt as if it were made for him? when your sighs were delicate and pretty, and the way you looked at him beneath your lashes made him forget every worry and trouble he’d ever faced.

with his dick buried deep inside of you, he was lost in a world where guilt didn’t exist.

his wife never fucked him like this. her arch wasn’t as deep as yours… she never drained his cock dry, nor has she ever deep throated his length with such soft lips…

as you clenched tightly around his dick, your cunt slick with a mix of your climaxes, nanami decided that if he were to die in this very moment, he would die the happiest man on earth.

you knew he was married. you had seen the ring. the way he discarded his phone without a care in the world every time her name flashed across his screen. but you didn’t care. you had never done this before and you should have felt shitty but with every thrust into you, his chants of leaving his wife for you had your orgasm soon crashing over you. voices filling the room, a symphony of praises for each other. he whispers sweet promises of giving you the world.

you’d never have to dance again. at that revelation, you put your all in to satisfying him and he could not get enough of you.

nanami wanted to fuck you for the rest of his life. he wanted to gaze in to those beautiful eyes for all of eternity. as dawn broke over the penthouse after countless rounds, whilst bending you over against the kitchen island and pounding into your sore pussy relentlessly; it was you he let you break the need his wife. in response to her ten missed calls and 17 unanswered messages— under his instruction, you texted her four simple words.

"I want a divorce."

for hours following, he continued to have his way with you, his only regard for you as the new mrs.kento.

∞

© infi8ity. do not repost, translate, or modify my work.

[mixtape-racha]

boyfriend!yang jeongin thoughts

(a/n: this is for u anonnie !! enjoy <3) | sfw and nsfw below the cut

warnings: phone sex (ish), fingering, recorded sex, unprotected sex loss of virginity, oral, 69'ing, anal fingering

sfw

boyfriend!jeongin who paints your toes nails for you and help your shave your legs when you're feeling down/under the weather

boyfriend!jeongin who always wears gold jewellery and buys you matching pieces to his, but in silver

boyfriend!jeongin who lets you design his first tattoo, so he'll always have a part of you with him

boyfriend!jeongin who makes you advent gift baskets each year instead of a normal advent calendar

boyfriend!jeongin who always come back from a job with alexander mcqueen with gifts for you, shrugging it off like its no big deal

boyfriend!jeongin who spends as long as he can learning your love language if it isn't the same as his, just so he can truly show you how much he appreciates you

boyfriend!jeongin who takes you to the animal shelter to adopt a pet together for your first anniversary

boyfriend!jeongin who gets you photocards of your bias, even if it isn't him, but Especially if it is him

boyfriend!jeongin who got an extra foxi.ny who he sews hair extensions onto and says it you - so now you have to get matching outfits with your foxy/n

boyfriend!jeongin who sings you to sleep most nights, and its honestly subconsciously - he just knows you sleep better when he has, and wants that for you every night

nsfw

boyfriend!jeongin who spends hours fingering you, drawing as many orgasms out of you as he can before it gets too much for you

boyfriend!jeongin who loves fucking you in doggy, watching the way your ass bounces with his thrusts and when he spanks you

boyfriend!jeongin who can make you wet from across a room just by giving you those dangerous siren eyes, and knows full well because he just smirks after

boyfriend!jeongin who uses a soundbite of your moans in the first freaky song he writes himself, and of course he had to fuck you in the studio to get it

boyfriend!jeongin who constantly sends you videos of him jerking off when he's away on tour, but cuts the video off before he finishes if you've been a brat

boyfriend!jeongin who has only ever cum inside you raw once, and it got him so turned on you ended up going at it literally all night

boyfriend!jeongin who took your virginity and lost his to you, and wholeheartedly believes it will always be the most loving and intimate thing you'll ever do together

boyfriend!jeongin who prefers giving head to receiving it, to the point where you only ever really blow him if you're 69'ing

boyfriend!jeongin who asked you to finger his ass while he was fucking you one time, and never looked back holy shit he's never cum so hard

boyfriend!jeongin who will never have a threesome because he believes no one else should be lucky enough to see how pretty you look and hear how pretty you sound during sex

(a/n: scheduled post!)

-> don’t forget to reblog or comment if you like my works ♡ please refrain from modifying, translating, or copying my work. - © mixtape-racha

tags ✮⋆˙ : @pretty-racha @chubbyanarkiss @taeriffic @mits-vi @chanssmiles @5kayzee @queen-klarissa @torixx80 @fawnpeaks @bangtanmix73 @savluvsmingi @boi-bi-ahaha @skz-streamer @demetrisscarf @manj1ro @linocvpid @alextheweeb7 @chans-american-slave @unsweetenedpeatea @carpioassists @bangtancultsposts @reiheis @happilydeepestwonderland @leemidnightmoon @watariisbestboy @hwangrimi @weedforthoughtz @ivyisnotokay @yevene @puckmaidens @poody1608 @vampcharxter @ilcveyouu @yeetmehome @prettymiye0n @bratty-tingz

[drownedsilverforever]

Name: lost silver

Height: 6' 2ft tall (187.96 cm)

Age: 18-20

species: siren/merman

Variant: tropical water

Home: the barrier coral reef

Gender: ♂

Fish the tail is a mix of: black ruby barb fish(♂) + moorish idol fish(♀)

Hierarchy ranking: omega + mother siren

ranking info: omegas are typically viewed as more submissive, experiencing heat cycles where they are fertile and may require extra care and support, yet as a mother siren, he let's his inner woman take charge of domestic matters, as a mother siren, the first teacher in the world who not only teach the young to to believe in ourselves but also help them learn how to behave, speak, and sharpen the thinking of the sirenlings, even if the children of his species or any species aren't from his womb.... he cares for them like a mother, nurses them with milk from his breasts, teaches them life lessons and the knowledge they need for when they grow up

Vocal type: mezzo-soprano

[xtra7s]

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐒 ★ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏

pairing: Renee Rapp x reader

Synopsis: Renee Rapp finds herself being forced to co-write with her popstar enemy, Y/N YL/N.

content: none

word count: 2500+

masterlist

Sunlight, pale and watery, peeked through Renee's eyelids, coaxing them open. She groaned, squinting at the dust motes dancing in the sunbeam, momentarily lost before memory slammed back, a tidal wave of yesterday's chaos. The sold-out show, the encore that bled into the early hours, the post-show whirlwind of sweaty hugs and hoarse thank yous.

She sat up, wincing at the way her muscles protested, stretched languidly like a sun-drenched cat. Her apartment, usually alive with the echoes of guitar strings and her own humming, was blessedly quiet. She savored the stillness, reveling in the luxury of an unscheduled morning.

Coffee first, always coffee. Slipping into a faded black tee and ripped sweatpants, Renee padded into the kitchen, the familiar ritual grounding her. The hiss of the espresso machine, the frothy gurgle of milk, all a symphony of caffeine-fueled peace. She curled up on the window seat, mug cradled in her hands, watching the city wake up beneath a veil of mist.

The day unfurled with the lazy elegance of a catnap. She strummed aimlessly on her guitar, chords bleeding into each other like watercolor paints. A melody hummed beneath her breath, hesitant at first, then soaring with newfound confidence. Words followed, tumbling out like spilled secrets, raw and vulnerable. This one, she knew, wouldn't be for the stage. This one was for her, etched in the quiet of her living room, sunlight painting gold across her notebook pages.

Mid-verse, the phone buzzed, pulling her back from the daydream landscape. It was Adam, her manager, his voice a staccato counterpoint to the slow tempo of her morning. "Hey, sleepyhead. Get that caffeine flowing, you've got a meeting in an hour."

Renee blinked the edges of her daydream blurring. "A meeting? With who?"

"Surprise," Adam purred, a mischievous glint in his voice. "Just be at the office by noon, looking fierce. Trust me, this is good."

The call ended, leaving behind a delicious cocktail of curiosity and apprehension. Adam rarely sprung surprises, preferring the well-worn path of meticulous planning. A quick peek at her calendar confirmed the blankness of the day, a testament to his clandestine maneuver. Renee, intrigued, finished her coffee with newfound urgency.

A quick shower scrubbed away the remnants of sleep and yesterday's glitter. Jeans replaced sweatpants, and a vintage band tee swapped for a sleek silk cropped tank. She threw on a leather jacket, its worn patina contrasting the delicate silver chain around her neck. A flick of mascara, a touch of rouge, and voila, Renee was ready for whatever mystery Max had cooked up.

The subway ride was a whirlwind of crumpled newspapers and hurried goodbyes. The city buzzed outside the windows, a symphony of car horns and sirens that somehow managed to be lullaby familiar. Renee tapped her foot against the worn floor, an impatient rhythm against the steady rumble of the train.

Adam's office, on the top floor of a sleek glass tower, felt as controlled as its occupant. He sat behind a minimalist desk, a tablet gleaming like a black mirror in his hands. "Well, look who graced us with her presence," he drawled, a sharkish grin lighting up his face.

"Alright, spill it," Renee demanded, settling into the plush leather chair opposite him. She took off her jacket and rested it on the chair, "Who's the mystery meeting with?"

Adam smirked, leaning back in his chair. "Ready for the real kicker, Blondie?" He reached for his tablet, tapping the screen with a flourish. "Your writing partner for these demos? None other than the one and only..."

The name that flashed on the screen froze Renee's blood. Y/N YL/N. The girl who seemed to embody everything Renee wasn't – polished, perfect, and seemingly born with a platinum record tucked behind each earlobe.

Their paths had crossed a few times – an awkward introduction at an awards show, a tense exchange at a music industry party – and each encounter had felt like navigating a minefield. Y/N’s icy smile and razor-sharp wit felt like a personal affront, a constant reminder of everything Renee felt insecure about.

The news hit her like a rogue wave. Collaborating with Y/N? Writing songs together? It was like asking a firefly to tango with a scorpion. The very idea sent shivers down her spine, a delicious blend of dread and fascination.

"You're joking, right?" Renee's voice was a tight whisper, her fingers twisting in her lap.

Adam chuckled, but there was a glint of steel in his eyes. "Nope. Word on the street is that Y/N's been looking for a songwriting partner with some... grit. Apparently, her last collaborator couldn't handle the 'diva act.'" He raised an eyebrow, daring her to challenge him.

Renee squared her shoulders, a spark of defiance lighting in her eyes. "Challenge accepted," she declared, her voice steadier than she felt. "Let's see who the real diva is when we're both spitting shit in a recording booth."

The Hollywood dream suddenly felt a lot less glamorous and a lot more like stepping into a coliseum, armed only with a guitar and a stubborn sense of self. Writing songs with Y/N was going to be hell, but maybe, just maybe, it would also be the spark that ignited something extraordinary, both on the record and within herself. 

As Adam slid a glass of champagne into her hand, the city lights outside the window seemed to wink, beckoning her towards a future both terrifying and thrilling. The Renee Rapp show was just getting started, and her first act was facing her demons, head-on and harmony-filled.

"Alright, Renee," he said, pushing himself up from his chair. "Y/N's on her way to the studio right now. Time to go meet your new best friend."

Renee swallowed hard, the champagne suddenly turning to vinegar in her stomach. "Right," she croaked, forcing a smile. "Studio. Collaboration. Teamwork."

Adam raised an eyebrow, his sharkish grin widening. "More like controlled chaos, but hey, that's where the magic happens, right?" He winked, then tossed her black leather jacket to her. "Go get 'em, tiger. Show her what Renee Rapp's made of."

The city stretched out before her, a concrete jungle pulsating with possibility and peril. Grabbing a taxi, Renee sped towards the studio, her thoughts churning like a washing machine on a spin cycle. Would Y/N be the ice queen she always appeared to be, or was there something more beneath the polished surface? Could they possibly navigate the choppy waters of songwriting together, or would their egos collide in a spectacular, public shipwreck?

The studio, nestled in the heart of Hollywood, hummed with creative energy. The air crackled with the sound of guitars being tuned, drumsticks tapping impatiently, and voices warming up scales. Renee took a deep breath, stepping into the dimly lit control room where Angela waited, her music producer, a mischievous glint in her eye.

"She's in booth two," she said, pointing towards a soundproofed glass box.

Renee nodded, her heart pounding a primal rhythm against her ribs. She pushed open the heavy door, stepping into the booth like a gladiator entering the arena. There, bathed in the soft glow of studio lights, sat Y/N YL/N.

For a moment, the world held its breath. The two rivals were locked in a silent standoff, their past encounters casting long shadows across the room. Then, a slow smile spread across Y/N's face, a smirk that was equal parts of challenge and intrigue.

"Renee Rapp," she drawled, her voice like honeyed poison. "Fancy seeing you here."

Renee met her gaze, her own smile steely and determined. "Yeah yeah, Y/N," she replied. "Let's get to work."

And so, the unlikely collaboration began. Two voices, so different yet somehow destined to intertwine, filled the studio with the raw energy of unspoken feelings and unbridled talent. The air crackled with tension, with unspoken words hanging heavy between them. Yet, as their fingers danced across guitars and their voices blended in unexpected harmonies, a spark ignited.

It was a dance on the edge of a volcano, fueled by equal parts animosity and grudging respect. They challenged each other and pushed each other to their limits, their voices soaring and crashing like waves against the rocks. 

Frustration hung heavy in the air, thick enough to cut with a knife. Hours had bled by, filled with discarded melodies and half-written verses, with the tantalizing promise of a song just out of reach. Renee strummed her guitar listlessly, the chords echoing the emptiness in her mind.

Y/N sat across from her, perched on a stool, her usually immaculate hair mussed, dark circles smudging the corners of her eyes. The polished veneer of her persona had peeled away, revealing the vulnerability beneath. For the first time, Renee saw her not as a rival, but as another artist struggling with the same demons.

A sudden change in Renee's strumming caught Y/N's attention. Her head snapped up, eyes locking with Renee's, who seemed unaware of the shift. Her fingers danced across the strings, weaving a melody that was both raw and captivating. Renee's lips moved silently, forming words that hung in the air like wisps of smoke.

"You say that I'm your favorite," she hummed, her voice low and husky, "With your hand between my thighs."

Y/N's breath hitched, a shiver dancing down her spine. The lyrics, raw and unapologetic, cut through the tension like a knife. This wasn't the sugary pop Y/N was known for; this was something darker, something more real.

Renee's eyes fluttered open, meeting Y/N's gaze with a newfound intensity. The air crackled with electricity, a mix of anticipation and trepidation.

"Tell me if you were gonna," Renee continued, her voice gaining strength, "That I would be the one you tried."

Y/N watched, hypnotized, as Renee mumbled a few more lyrics before shaking her head. The raw lyrics, sung with smoky confidence, peeled back layer after layer of the facade Renee typically projected. Y/N noticed things she'd never observed before - the flecks of gold in Renee's blue eyes that sparked with each line, the way her nose crinkled adorably when she concentrated, and the subtle curve of her jaw that spoke of hidden strength.

 The song, a shared confession, had cracked open Y/N's carefully constructed shell, revealing a tangle of emotions she'd kept buried for years. Her gaze traced the line of Renee's neck, the pulse fluttering beneath the delicate skin, and a shiver ran down Y/N's spine.

The air crackled with a charged silence. Y/N's walls, once brick and mortar, were now mere cobblestones, tumbling into disarray. She met Renee's eyes, her own unguarded and vulnerable, a stark contrast to the icy color they usually held.

"That..." Y/N's voice was a mere whisper, "That was something else, Renee."

Renee, sensing the shift, offered a tentative smile. "It was," she agreed, her voice husky.

There, in the dimly lit studio, their rivalry seemed to melt away, replaced by a fragile understanding, a whispered promise of shared vulnerability. They stepped out into the dawn, the first rays of sunlight painting the sky in shades of pink and gold. It was a new beginning, a blank canvas upon which they could paint a masterpiece of collaboration.

But as they left the studio and the magic of the music faded, Y/N's walls began to rebuild, brick by metaphorical brick. The vulnerability 

evaporated, replaced by the familiar mask of cold detachment. Her back straightened, her gaze sharpened, and a familiar smirk played on her lips.

"Alright, Renee," she drawled, her voice tinged with her usual icy edge. "Hit me up tomorrow, I'll come over and we can continue writing."

Renee blinked, startled by the sharp shift. She nodded as the warmth of their shared moment had dissolved, leaving behind a bitter aftertaste. But something had changed. Renee saw a flicker of the woman beneath the ice queen, a glimpse of the vulnerability Y/N had so briefly unveiled.

The game had changed, indeed. Renee knew the road ahead would be paved with challenges, with Y/N's barbed wit and ruthless ambition a constant obstacle. But she also knew that, hidden beneath the layers of frost, there was a fire in Y/N that could be kindled. The melody they had forged together, raw and honest, was proof. And that, in itself, was a victory.

The rivalry was far from over, but now, it danced with a hint of something else, something unspoken and intriguing. Renee met Y/N's gaze, a new challenge glinting in her own eyes. 

Renee stumbled out of the studio, eyelids drooping and nerves buzzing. Sleep, usually a welcome sanctuary, seemed elusive tonight. The image of Y/N's walls rebuilding, brick by icy brick, replayed in her mind, a discordant note against the echo of their raw collaboration.

She drifted into her apartment, the silence pressing against her like a suffocating wave. The ukulele leaned against the wall, untouched, yearning for the warmth of her fingers. Instead, she gravitated towards her trusty guitar, its familiar weight grounding her in the chaos of her emotions.

Her fingers danced across the strings, returning to the notes she played in the studio, a way to translate the tangled mess in her head. The chords came hesitantly at first, a tentative whisper, then gathering momentum like a gathering storm. Her voice, raw and unfiltered, filled the quiet room, weaving a tapestry of unspoken desires and lingering questions.

"In the PM, all the pretty girls," she crooned, "They have a couple drinks, all the pretty girls."

The lyric hung in the air, heavy with both longing and self-awareness. Was it her own reflection she saw in those words, the girl in the mirror seeking solace in the fleeting comfort of company? Or was it Y/N, a glimpse beneath the polished surface, a yearning for something just beyond her reach?

"So now, they wanna kiss all the pretty girls," Renee continued, her voice gaining strength, "They got to have a taste of a pretty girl."

The melody soared, achingly beautiful, and laced with a bittersweet truth. The game they played, the unspoken tension between them, was it just a desperate grasp for connection in a world of curated personas? Or was there something more, something simmering beneath the veneer of rivalry?

She strummed the final chord, letting the silence settle like a soft snowfall. The lyrics etched onto the page in messy scrawl, seemed to hold the answer to a question she hadn't even dared to ask. Tonight, the lines between artist and subject had blurred, Renee revealing not just melodies but a sliver of her own soul.

With a heavy sigh, she slipped into bed, the image of Y/N's eyes, both guarded and curious, dancing behind her eyelids. Sleep, at last, brought its welcome embrace, but within its depths, another song was stirring, waiting to be born. In the morning, with the city streets shimmering beneath the sunrise, Renee knew the game had just begun. 

The melodies they created, confessions hidden in plain sight, would be their currency, their battle cries, their whispered promises. Whether it led to harmony or heartbreak, one thing was certain: the world they were about to create, together, would be unlike anything anyone had ever heard.

[qwertywriting]

I honestly have no idea what happened here and I might have gotten a bit carried away...

this was based on my brainrot about biker!boothill

not edited or proofread

-☆☆☆-

Biker!Boothill who decided to get into motorcycles because of the thrill, going at high speeds, weaving in and out of traffic it was a rush of adrenaline with no- minimal risks. Dangerous? Dangerous for who? Definitely not him. Reckless?? It's all calculated, baby.

Some have tried and pick a fight, for whatever petty reason, but they soon learn it’s futile, a flash of teeth and a gun gets the point across pretty quick.

Biker!Boothill who downloaded lots of fashion magazines, because he it's cooler aesthetically, and he can make a good first impression. 

Biker!Boothill who drives around randomly just to see where his heart takes him, getting lost is the point- which is how he ended up spotting a familiar head of silver hair, down the street.

Boothill doesn’t really think through his next actions but a low rumble and high pitched whistle catches you and Stelle off guard.  Both of you, like everyone else around you, turn to the direction of the sound only to see a black motorcycle with streaks of red rolling up towards you and Stelle.  The tall figure steps off the bike, and lifts up the visor to peer at the both of you before pulling off the red helmet and giving his head a small shake. His intimidating expression morphs to excitement. “Fudge me sideways — Stelle, it really was you! I’d recognise that head of hair anywhere.”  Boothill only realised Stelle wasn’t alone when he arrived on the sidewalk, as you stood slightly behind Stelle. Giving you a small wave, flashing you a grin, showing off his augmented teeth. “Whoops, I almost didn’t see ya there darlin’” “Oh my god.” Stelle groans, “why did you have to yell loud enough to alert the entire street?”  Boothill clicks his tongue, running a hand through his hair. “I was just excited to see ya. So are ‘yer gonna introduce your friend to me or nah?” 

Biker!Boothill who was bugging Stelle for your phone number only to be surprised when he gets added into a group chat consisting of him, Stelle and you, along with an invite to go to a cafe hosting a collaboration with your favorite characters. 

Biker!Boothill who is constantly jumping at opportunities to invite you out for rides, Stelle is quick to shut down that idea at first, recalling several incidents of weaving through cars at high speeds and too many close calls.

Boothill, just grins at you, assuring you nothing bad would happen but you get the feeling that as long as he’s in the driver’s seat it would always end up like a rollercoaster. 

The one time you accept his invitation, it ends up involving the wails of sirens following behind, as you speed down the highway, and Boothill seemingly unfazed as he accelerates to even higher speeds that leave you feeling dizzy.

It probably takes you a long while before you accept another invitation to go for another ride. 

Bonus:

Stelle mentions braiding Boothill's hair while stopped at traffic lights for fun and surprisingly Boothill just lets you do it, but he also takes an extra second to make sure you’re clinging onto him before he speeds off again. 

[wystiix]

❥ pairing: siren!robin x sailor fem!reader ❥ synopsis: The ocean listens keenly—you should have known that. You were a curious individual, so you decided to test out an old fisherman's tale. A silver offering, a song at sunset, and a voice that hums back from the deepest parts. You should have never sought an answer—but now, the sea has heard you. ❥ cw: major character death, slight mind manipulation ❥ additional tags: second person perspective, siren au ❥ word count: 3.3k ❥ notes: haha i saw the hoyofair art... holy shit robin is gorgeous i just had to write about it. yeah uh ig this is my first hsr work. not sure if i'll write more. i hope to god i didn't mischaracterise her cuz i was just writing about how sirens usually act. and yes i know i know I KNOW SIRENS WERE ORIGINALLY DEPICTED AS HALF BIRD IN GREEK MYTHOLOGY. i was mainly basing this off on how the philippines depicted these creatures (sirena), because "sirena" in tagalog means "mermaid". so ya!! i would also like to give a special thanks to bbg @papiliotao for proofreading this for me <33 love you rei, to the moon and back /p

The ocean was no stranger to you—you had known it throughout your whole life. Since you were a little girl, staring at the shimmering surface turned into a routine. You admired how it seemingly stretched out an eternal expanse of azure blue that met with the sky’s horizon before you. 

You’d dip your feet beneath the shallow waters and allow them to sink into the sand without a care in the world. The tides would crash and the waves licked up your legs. The ocean was your comfort. It was your home.

And yet, you often wondered: what laid beyond the reef?

You had come from a long bloodline of those who were masters of the sea, men and women who lived and died by the waves. Like the masters they were, they taught you everything you needed to know—how to read the stars, predict the tides, how to navigate your way through the waters to avoid getting lost. But above all, they never fail to warn you about the dangers of the deep.

Countless legends and stories have been told to you about the lives of your ancestors being taken by the same waters you had come to love. Monsters, storms, mistakes which eventually led them to their demise. However, one tale above all haunted your family’s stories.

They said the waves would often get mischievous. They led sailors’ boats further astray into the mist where the rocks waited. Among numerous creatures of the deep, none would come as close to dangerous as the ones your ancestors perceived to be beautiful singers.

They had voices like honey, sweet enough to drown out any coherent thought. They often appeared to sailors as women who were part-fish—beautiful beyond words with skin that glittered like the sea itself.

But looks can be deceiving. For those who followed their songs never returned.

However, it didn’t stop there. Some believed that you didn’t have to wait for them to find you. Apparently, you could summon them. 

It was stated that when the sun bled into the water with hues blossoming red and gold, the summoner should bring a gift—something precious, an offering of silver. Toss it into the waves and wash your face on the shore as the waves slowly take it away. Hum a tune, preferably one expressing your deepest yearnings and desires, for it will attract and bring them closer. Then, wait for the sea to answer as the sun fully sets. 

Old fishermen warn you not to cease your melody, for the sea listens keenly. These creatures aren’t particularly known for their patience; silence could summon their wrath instead. Keep your melody alive and listen closely. When you hear a tune drift back to you from the depths, you know you’ve been heard—the ritual is then deemed successful.

If you were lucky, a benevolent creature may grant you mercy. It was a common belief that they may offer you a kiss—one that could grant gifts and blessings. Stories claim that this kiss could fill your lungs with the ocean’s breath and grant you the power to swim as one of them. 

But luck was a dangerous, fickle thing to gamble. More often than not, when these creatures appeared, these gifts weren’t given freely. If they came at all, they never left any witnesses behind. They were more of a misfortune than a boon.

Now, you were a skeptic. You weren’t one to believe in such things. They were merely fairytales to you, and you knew that the ocean was more forgiving than that as long as you didn’t go beyond the reef. Though, you couldn’t help this lingering curiosity eating away at the back of your mind like a swarm of pests.

And so, you decided to test this theory.

One evening, you found yourself standing at the rocky shore. You knew the stretch of this coast well, the rocky areas always seemed to slope faster into the deep strangely. This seemed like a perfect spot to do the bidding.

In your hand was a hooped silver earring, one from a pair you had lost a long time ago. It glinted as it caught the last rays of sunlight as you watched the sun set. While it was precious, it was merely a trinket. You could live with its loss.

This was foolish. Childish, even. Testing an old sailor’s tale? You should have laughed and left it at that.

The faint smell of the salty breeze met your senses as you took a deep breath. Your pulse quickened with anticipation—or was it fear? Either way, there was no turning back now, not after all the trouble you went through to find a trinket you thought no longer mattered and to travel all the way to the beach.

You let the earring fall from your fingers. The silver flashed briefly before the tide claimed it, and it evanesced into the water. 

A sigh slipped past your lips as you crouched by the shoreline. For a moment, you hesitated. What if they were right? What if these warnings weren’t just tales after all?

No, you were here now. This was merely a ridiculous test because you had nothing to do. Nothing was going to happen. Even if it were real, you weren’t one to give in to temptations so easily. You were not exactly easy to impress after all.

The cool water lapped at your hands and you splashed it onto your face with the salt stinging your skin. A stray drop had managed to slip into your lips and you immediately spat it out, grimacing at the bitter taste that settled on your tongue.

Then, you parted your lips and sang.

A gentle tune floated from your lips. Simple and familiar, no grand notes or anything. It was the kind that was second nature to you as if it had always belonged to the waves itself.

The sun continued setting slowly, and the waters were painted with deep crimson and orange. The final note left your lips and you waited. You were unsure if you had done it right. Would anything happen at all? Did you make a fool of yourself?

Your ears strained as you listened. To keep the melody alive, you hummed the whole song over again. The last rays of the sun disappeared beneath the horizon and the ocean seemed to grow still when you finished.

Nothing. You heard nothing. You almost felt foolish.

A frustrated sigh spilled out of you and you stood up. You had just practically tossed your silver jewellery into the water to test out some absurd myth. There was no one to blame but yourself in this situation. You turned on your heel, about to walk away with humiliation.

Until you heard it.

The waves crashed against the rocks. You backed away from the edge so the waves wouldn’t catch you, but you listened closely. 

A note. It rose faintly from the waters, and the sea seemed to hum it.

Upon one summer's morning, I carefully did stray…

Your blood froze.

Down by the Walls of Wapping, where I met a sailor gay.

You weren’t alone.

Conversing with a young lass who seem'd to be in pain,

Saying, "William, when you go, I fear you'll ne'er return again.

Your heart thudded in your chest painfully as you glanced at the water with your eyes wide, straining to see among the shifting tides in the darkness. And there, you espied something.

A head popped out from beneath the surface. Lilac-silver hair and emerald eyes stared straight at you. Confused, you blinked a few times and rubbed your eyes, unsure if your vision was deceiving you. But when you opened your eyes again, it was gone. The water was empty, and the eerie hum of the ocean was the only sound to be heard.

Your pulse quickened.

Had you imagined it? Something told you that this wasn’t a coincidence.

This time, you decided to be a little risky. You stepped near the edge, feeling the moss and jagged rock beneath your feet to take a closer look. Your eyes fixed on that one spot where you had seen the head. 

There was… definitely something beneath the surface. Something was moving, and it looked like a fish tail. Ripples lapped gently at the water’s edge as the head emerged again.

This time, however, it was closer to you, and you could see a few more prominent features. A crown of coral adorned her head, and gills of fish rested by her ears. The same emerald eyes stared at you as if her gaze was piercing into your soul.

“Hello?” you blurted out almost foolishly. “Did I disturb your swim?”

Her intense gaze made you nervous and made your heart race. The figure simply tilted her head as she looked at you, almost with deliberate slowness as if she was sizing you up. Then, she smiled.

“You summoned me.”

A chill ran down your spine. You blinked momentarily, your mouth parting as you thought of what to say. And then the realisation hit you, and you smacked your forehead in embarrassment. Fool, you scolded inwardly. Why in the seven seas would you ask such a thoughtless question?

“I—uh—” You cleared your throat and you felt the heat rise in your cheeks. “I didn't think it was… possible?”

She merely chuckled and rose slightly from the surface, sitting on a rock just close to you. Droplets of water dripped down her face and neck, and for the first time, you could see a creature like her in full display. Her hair swayed gently as if caught by an unseen breeze. Her hair colour reminded you of periwinkle flowers; ethereal, elegant and eye-catching. The three E’s.

Her tail glistened with rich shades of violet and curled around her as she sat. Its scales were arranged perfectly with iridescent patterns that shifted in the light, creating a stunning display of brilliant colours. Were those tiny wings hanging behind her ears? Your ancestors hadn’t provided many details on these beings’ appearances.

The sight of her made your breath catch in your throat.

“Did you think I was going to leave without greeting you?” she asked, breaking you out of your trance. Her voice was smooth and soft like silk, and it almost sounded like a lullaby.

You swallowed hard. The weight of your reckless curiosity was starting to sink in.

“No…” you mumbled. Her fixed gaze on you wasn't making this situation any less frightening. The darkness didn't help either, as the sun had just set. It was as if her eyes were the brightest thing around, glowing faintly.

The sea listens keenly. You should have heeded that warning from your masters.

“I had no idea what I was thinking,” you continued sheepishly, attempting to salvage every last bit of your dignity. “I guess I wanted to know if the old tales were real—”

“Tales.” Her smile widened. “You didn’t think they were true?”

Not until now. The truth had punched you in the gut and you were left feeling lightheaded. Of course they were true.

You didn’t know whether to cry, laugh or flee. Or all of the above. Perhaps the ground could open up a hole and swallow you instead, that’d mostly be preferable.

The silence stretched for a long moment. Then, she spoke again, breaking that silence.

“My name is Robin,” she said lightly, as if offering the name was some casual gift. “And what’s yours, sailor?”

Your heart pounded in your chest, unsure if you should be terrified. However, provoking these creatures wasn’t exactly encouraged. Swallowing, you crouched down and answered nervously. “[Name].”

Robin eyed you for a moment before smiling. “[Name], how lovely,” she hummed looking down at her reflection in the water. “Well, [Name], how fortunate for you that I’m feeling quite generous tonight.”

You knitted your eyebrows together. “Generous?”

Her finger traced lazy circles on the surface of the water. “What is it that you desire the most?” she asked. “You had a reason to summon me, did you not?”

“Oh.” Shaking your head, you waved your hands dismissively. You had completely forgotten about that. “No, not at all. This was… merely a test of courage.”

“Shall I reward that courage?”

“What?”

Her tail flicked, scattering droplets into the air as she slid off the rock and sank into the sea once again. “Shall I grant you a blessing to reward your bravery?” She pressed herself against the crag and leaned in just enough to make your pulse quicken. “A curious sailor like you deserves such a gift.”

The water curled towards the rock at your feet. Had you heard her right? A gift? Something about it made you suspicious, yet her gaze seemed sincere.

When you didn’t answer, her eyes gleamed as she continued, “I don’t offer my gifts lightly, dear. A kiss from me, and you could have it all. Swim with the tide, breathe beneath the waves, see the ocean as I do…” Robin sighed and rested her head on her hand. “It’s a rare offer. One that most sailors would beg for.”

“That easy, huh.” You eyed her warily, crossing your arms. There had to be a catch.

Robin’s smile didn’t falter. “Would you rather I make it difficult?”

You blinked a few times before shaking your head. “No, I—” A sharp exhale slipped out of you. 

You were going to say no. You were sure of it. So why couldn’t you?

“So what’s wrong?” she asked, watching you closely. “You troubled yourself to come all the way here and summon me. Surely you wouldn’t just leave empty-handed? Ridiculous. Why hesitate?”

The waves lapped slowly at the rock and the rhythm of your pulse quickened. The ocean seemed to stretch endlessly behind her.

Why hesitate?

The question should have been easy to answer. So many answers, so many reasons. Yet, you just… couldn’t seem to name them.

“You’re thinking so hard,” she mused. “Is it really so difficult?”

You stiffened.

Yes, it was.

“I-I just…” you murmured, sheepishly rubbing the back of your neck. “As much as I appreciate the offer, I would much rather have my feet stay on land.”

Silence enveloped the both of you like a blanket. Robin narrowed her eyes at you, putting her hand down, and her eyes were locked onto your face which made you more nervous. It seemed like she was examining you. Closely.

Did you perhaps tick her off?

Dark waves rolled in like silk as the ocean shimmered. The air felt a lot heavier. It clung to your skin, thick with salt and something else you couldn’t name. Words are unable to be formed and for a moment, you swore you heard the tide humming. 

A haze settled into your mind, thick and intoxicating. The stars had just come out, and they shone in a way that felt unreal. In fact, your surroundings felt unreal.

She was closer now, humming a soft melody to like the lull of the ocean itself. When had that happened? Her cold, damp fingers brushed against your cheek which made your breath hitch.

“You’re trembling,” she spoke softly. “You're not afraid, are you?”

Afraid? No, not at all. In fact, the fear had eroded away the moment you heard her sing. There was something about her voice, something that allowed each note that spilled out of her lips tug at the threads of your heart. Any thought seemed to wash itself out as you drowned in the pools of her emerald eyes.

You felt her hand gently caress your face, inclining your head closer. Before you knew it, soft lips brushed against yours in a tender kiss. Your heart pounded loudly in your ears and your head spun as the kiss lingered for a moment, unable to bring yourself to pull away.

It was an unexplainable, intoxicating allure that had you trapped, rendering any attempts of resisting fruitless. Her lips tasted like sin itself, enticing you deeper—and you wanted more of it. Your mind melted as the world around you seemed to blur at the edges. It just urged you to lean in a little more, fearing that to pull away would shatter this utter bliss.

“Still with me?”

Robin’s voice was a sweet and sugary lilt as she murmured against your lips, and it wrapped around your senses—lingering like the taste of salt on your tongue. You nodded, unsure if you even remembered how to speak. Or think. Or breathe.

Her lips were warm. But why was the water so cold? You could feel it rise to your ankles. Then your knees. Then your chest.

Wait—when did you step into the sea?

Your body swayed and it felt weightless. Somewhere far away, you heard the tide singing and Robin singing along with it. You could feel her hands cup your face and tilt your head deeper into the kiss. A low hum rattled in your chest, vibrating throughout your bones.

The ocean listens keenly. You should have known that.

The ocean listens keenly. You should have known that.

Your lungs felt full as she pulled away. Not tight. Not desperate. Just… full.

She was still so close. You hadn’t moved, had you? But you were closer. You blinked slowly at her as she swam in and out of focus. Were her eyes glowing? Or were yours just dimming? It was hard to tell. She hummed a soothing melody that eased your thoughts.

“I thought you sailors were clever.”

Huh?

The realisation came in slowly like thick syrup, a heaviness that settled in the pit of your stomach. You were sinking. Or had you already sunk?

Something delicately grazed your cheek. A strand of hair, drifting freely into the water. Yours or hers?

…Had you been holding your breath all this time? The ocean was in your ears. Your lungs. Salt was burning your throat and your mind. Your head tilted back instinctively to take a breath as you struggled.

But there was no air left to take.

You tried to lift your legs, but they felt heavy and sluggish. The cold ocean wrapped around you like a blanket, pressing against your skin.

The only thing you could see was Robin’s face. Crown of coral adorning her head, and gills of fish resting by her ears. The same green pools of eyes you drowned in pieced into you.

She was smiling.

“Close your eyes,” you heard her say. At least you think you did. “It’s easier that way.”

The pressure in your chest was heavy but no longer frightening. It felt familiar—like the hundreds of warnings you have heard from your masters the moment you were old enough to walk. They echoed in the back of your head.

You remembered the tales, the stories. How they had lured those before you. How the sea listened so carefully to their songs they were later consumed. You remembered the warnings passed down from generation to generation. The fear it was supposed to ignite.

But now, as you sank deeper, there was no fear. Only acceptance.

Robin’s hums echoed in the depths. It seeped into your bones to your very essence. It was the same melody you heard her sing, the same lullaby your ancestors must have heard. The one they couldn’t escape. You thought you were clever. You thought you weren’t easy to please. You thought you could even have a chance of escaping. You thought wrong.

You parted your lips, perhaps to call out the name of your family, perhaps to scream for help, but your words got lost in the water. They were swallowed by the depths.

Now you understand. Now you understand why they didn’t run, why they didn’t escape—the allure was not just the beauty, but the temptation. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t resist it. The sailors were left with no choice. Neither were you.

The ocean listens keenly. And, like it did to your ancestors, it answered.

You felt Robin’s hand graze your cheek as she gazed at you with that deceptive, soft look in her eyes. You both then shared one last kiss. Her breath—the sea’s breath, rather—filled your lungs.

And you let it. You succumbed to what was promised eternal bliss. It was easier that way.

[tasteleeknow]

CALL OF THE SIREN

PAIRING: siren!minho x fem!reader GENRE: smut. fluff. fairytale!au CONTENT: 18+ minors dni. WORD COUNT: 5.7k

SUMMARY: the effect he has on people is obvious, they’re drawn to him like he’s an oasis in a desert. then, with a small jingle of a bell that announces his arrival into your store, he attempts to ensnare you.

NOTE: my step back into writing after a little break. please let me know what you think! this is my interpretation of a siren. i know some people write them as mermaid type creatures. i wanted to write more the bird type, pretty bird singing in a cage and never touched and all of that jazz. whatever, hope you enjoy!

do not repost to other sites, including translations.

“Would you just come for an hour or so? Please?” you friend asks, tugging on your arm and giving you her best puppy dog eyes. 

“You just go,” you whine. “I’ve just had a new shipment in, I really should—” 

“It’s Sunday,” he interrupts. “Your books can wait,” she tugs you a little harder. “30 minutes.” 

“45.” 

Elsie was perhaps the only person you could call a real friend. She loved you, she’d proven that over and over throughout the years. Still, she was a very different person than you were. She sought out new faces and new company seemingly every hour of the day she had free. 

“Why are you so obsessed with dragging me around like a sidekick?” 

“Why are you so obsessed with this bookstore?” she retorts. 

“Why are you so obsessed with that man?” 

“What man?” she says, faking ignorance.

“Oh, come on.” 

“Listen, you just have to meet him once, alright? It’s not—” 

“It is that weird,” you correct before she can finish. “You and everyone else have lost your minds. I really don’t see how it’s possible for any man to—”

“You’ll see.” 

You sigh. “Let me lock up.” 

—

It’s as busy as the last time you’d been dragged to the monthly market. It always felt like the entire region descended onto the field far too small to accommodate them all. You weren’t used to crowds like this. Your days were happily spent in your village bookstore, room enough for your books and a small apartment out back. 

“There!” Elsie exclaims.

A crowd surrounds a small stage, obscuring your view of whatever has captured their attention. Your friend grips your hand and tugs you so suddenly you barely manage to stay upright, ducking your head as she barrels through the sea of bodies. The bustling sound of the market fades as she pulls you to a stop. Her eyes are fixed on the small makeshift stage, constructed from various wooden crates stacked beside each other. He’s singing: the man on the stage. He stands there in front of you, white dress shirt rolled up to his elbows with his hair falling into his eyes. He’s pretty, you’ll give him that. But when you turn to speak to your friend, the look on her face makes the words stick in your throat. She looks transfixed. She looks like he’s offering her the world on a silver platter, holding it out to her with his bare hands.

A strange feeling bubbles up in your chest, like you should wrap your arms around her as if she might at any moment lunge onto the stage. 

Then the singing stops. 

“That’s him,” she breathes dreamily, still failing to pull her eyes from the man on stage. 

“Thank you for coming,” the man on stage announces just before leaping off the stage and walking directly towards you. The crowd begins shuffling around, making their way to the small booth where they can offer their cash as a thank you for a clearly enrapturing performance. 

“You looked away,” he says when he reaches you, like that means anything at all. 

Your friend grabs your hand, as if she's afraid you might turn and run. “This is Minho,” she says. “He performs here every month. We uh—We had a drink last month and I said I’d bring my best friend next time.” 

You tug your hand from your friend’s, a little amused by her clear infatuation. Then you hold it towards him, inviting the stranger to shake it. He doesn’t. Instead he looks down at it like you’ve just held up something rotten in his face. 

“Minho doesn’t like touching people,” your friend explains, grabbing your hand again and saving you the embarrassment of letting it fall to your side. 

“Right. Well, I uh— I enjoyed what little of your performance I heard. Your voice is nice.” 

“Nice?” he says, cocking his head a little. 

Nice wasn’t enough of a compliment for him? The man refuses to shake hands and has a big ego. Your brows draw together, growing confused at your usually very intuitive friend’s infatuation. 

Elsie laughs, swinging your hands back and forth between you. “It’s heavenly, more like. Nice is a ridiculous way to describe it. Doesn’t it just… feel like it’s seeping into your chest? Like you could drown in it?” 

The man—Minho—looks at you with anticipation, curiosity: like your answer is important. 

“I—I mean, sure. I suppose.” 

“Should we all get a drink? There’s a shake stall, just near the lake,” your friend says, pulling Minho’s eyes from yours as she leads you away.

—

The remainder of the day is uneventful. You stay an hour and your friend chats away with the strange man like a lovesick puppy while you make yourself sick on a far too large vanilla milkshake. Love gives people rose tinted glasses, you conclude that night as you fall into bed. He was pretty and he had a nice voice, but clearly your friend's view of him was magnified by her heart. Infatuation does that to people. 

—

The gentle jingle of the bell above the door is one of those sounds you’d grown so accustomed to, you now barely heard it. It was background noise, like the sea birds or the crashing of the waves against the cliffs. You were so close to the cliffside here, it was the biggest selling point of the place. If you cracked your window open at night you could fall asleep to that sound. It was a stark difference to the car horns and sirens you’d grown up with. 

“Excuse me?” a voice says, startling you from your reverie. 

“Minho.” 

“You remembered.”

“I’m good with names.” 

He looks around the store, taking in the high shelves and the ladders installed to reach. “Yes, you’d have to be. Elsie told me you were… attached to this place.” 

“I love it.” 

He tilts his head a little, that look crossing his face again. You feel like you’re under a microscope. 

You clear your throat, stepping down from the small step you carry around the store to reach difficult places. “Do you need help finding anything?” 

He shoves his hands in his pockets, gazing around the store lazily. “I don’t do a lot of reading to be honest. I could use a few recommendations.” 

You brush your hands down your front. “Alright. What genres do you like?” 

He shrugs, offering you a lopsided grin. 

“You have to help me a little.” 

“Give me three of your favourites.” 

“We might not have the same taste.”

He shrugs again. 

Okay, fine. He’d be buying either way. 

He follows you around the store, a quiet shadow as you collect the first three books to come to mind. He’s quiet as he pays, placing his card down on the counter between you. Doesn’t like to be touched, you’re reminded. You slide the brown paper bag across the counter for him as you tuck his receipt inside. 

“Here you go.” 

“Do you think I’m pretty?” he says casually as he scoops it off the counter. 

You’re quiet for a moment, processing the question. “I’m sorry?” 

“I know it’s an odd question.” 

“Odd doesn’t—” 

“Humour me.” 

Elsie has a lot of explaining to do. “Sure. You’re pretty and your voice is heavenly. It seeps into my soul.” 

He grins. “You’re lying.” 

“Look, I think you’re strange. You… make me feel uneasy and—” 

“Uneasy?” 

“Not in a bad way. I don’t feel.. unsafe. I just… feel like I’m missing something. It’s uncomfortable.” 

“Not knowing something makes you uncomfortable,” he says, still grinning. It isn’t a question. 

“Why are you here? You clearly didn’t come here to buy books.” 

He juggles the brown bag into one hand so he can hold out his other towards you. “I came to shake your hand.” 

“I thought you didn’t like to do that.” 

“I don’t.” 

“So why are you—”

“Humour me.” 

You sigh, reaching out and grasping his hand in yours. He jolts as your palms connect, dropping the contents of the paper bag across the floor as he stumbles backwards. Okay, he really doesn’t like being touched. You round the counter to collect the books from the floor, cringing a little at the way one of the brand new paperbacks has landed. 

It’s only when you’ve collected all three and righted yourself you realise Minho is standing deathly still, silent. 

You raise your eyes to him. He looks shaken. You can’t help feeling sorry for him. “I don’t know what—I don’t know why you don’t like being touched, but it’s okay. Whatever it is, it’s okay to protect yourself.” 

You place the bag at his feet and take a step away from him. “Did you—Did you feel anything?” 

You frown. 

“When we touched,” he clarifies. 

“Like what?” 

“Nothing. I uh—” he bends to collect the bag. “Thanks for the books.” 

And with that, he’s gone. The small bell announces his exit. 

—

It’s days like these, with the sun high in the sky and the gentle spring breeze, that you’re so grateful for life you can hardly contain it. You close the shop and take the small walk to the cliffside bench with a book tucked under one arm and a thermos in your chilled hands. She’s waiting for you there. She knows weather like this draws you out. 

“The princess emerges from her tower, at last!” Elsie practically shouts as you lower yourself onto the bench beside her. 

“No shouting on days like this.” 

“Is that coffee?” she asks, gesturing to your thermos.

“Tea,” you correct, passing it to her before she can ask. 

“Mm, prefer coffee,” she says just before taking a healthy sip. 

“You should’ve brought some then.” 

You’re both quiet for a while after that, opening your book to read silently as Elsie gazes out over the ocean, thermos grasped between her hands. 

“Do you know something?” she says eventually. “I think you were right about this place.” 

You place your book by your side as she passes you the half empty thermos. “Was I?” 

“I know I tease you for it. But I get it. Why you spend all your time here, I mean. It’s nice.” 

“Nice?” you laugh. “What an understatement.” 

She turns towards you. “Oh, I'm the one understating the beauty of things now?” 

“Don’t start.” 

“I know he came to the store.” 

“People do that when they want to buy books.” 

“That man doesn’t need to go to a store to buy books.” 

“What is that supposed to mean?” you question.

“Come out with me tonight and I’ll show you.” 

“Where?” 

She grins. 

—

“What the hell is this?”

“Minho’s home,” your friend answers.

“Elsie, this is a fucking palace. What the hell is he doing busking at the local market?” 

She shrugs. “I asked him the same thing. Come on,” she says, attempting to lead you towards the imposing doors. 

“I wasn’t invited,” you point out.

“I have a plus one.”

The sound of chatter and laughter floods through the door as it opens. Half the town are his dinner guests by the sound of it. Elsie pulls you through the stately rooms, each with high ceilings and decadent carpets. 

When she passes you a drink, you still haven’t spotted him. You recognise faces from your store, people who have dropped by once or twice on a lazy afternoon and others who are regulars. Members of the local book club practically keep you afloat. 

“Is this a celebration?” 

“No, he just holds these regularly apparently. Has a private concert before dinner.” She tips back her head and finishes her champagne in one go. “That’s where they’re going now. Come on, let’s get good seats.”

It’s the kind of place you’d read about in fantasy novels, with high ceilings and chandeliers and carpets that could be worth more than your shop. It’s utterly ridiculous. A tiny sliver of embarrassment sneaks its way inside you at the idea of someone that had all this stepping into your store. You stamp it under your boot before it can settle. Your store is everything. You’d never been prouder of anything in your life. 

When the man of the hour emerges, the room quiets. People shift in their seats, leaning ever so slightly towards the stage where he stands. This stage is nothing like the one at the markets. It’s a permanent, elaborate construction, raising him high enough that even those peaking their heads into the packed room from the very back can get a clear view. 

Then he starts singing. 

It’s just like the last time you heard him. It’s pleasant, beautiful even. But as you take in the faces of those around you, you get that frustrating feeling again: you’re missing something. He stands centre stage, lulling the entire room into a dazed wonder. You get the urge to climb on stage and shake him. Tell me what this is! But you don’t. You wait for him to finish, wait for him to release his captives. 

Thirty minutes later Elsie takes your arm as you filter out of the room and towards the dining room, only stopping when Minho steps in front of you—blocking your exit. 

“Did you enjoy the performance?” he asks, a polite smile pulling the corners of his lips up. 

It sets your friend off on a speech that makes you want to pull her aside and give her a gentle slap across the face. Snap her out of whatever has taken root inside her brain. 

“And you?” Minho finally asks. 

“It was fine,” you answer. He didn’t need his ego fed. 

He laughs. Laughs. Like the idea that you weren’t totally enraptured by him like a sort of admiring zombie was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. Your eyes drop to his neck as you wonder how your hands would look wrapped around his throat. 

“Elsie, they’ll be starting service now. May I have a word with my guest? Just for a moment.” 

Your friend looks between you both, like she’s missing something obvious. You understand the feeling. Then she leaves with a gentle squeeze of your arm. 

“You’re rich,” you announce after a moment of silence. 

“Very observant.” 

“How?” 

“And blunt.” 

“I don’t like not knowing things.” 

“Yes, yes I know,” he smiles. Then he collapses into one of the empty chairs and looks around the room like he’s never seen it before, like it doesn’t belong to him. “People are… generous, with their donations. They like my voice.” 

You scoff, collapsing into a chair across the aisle from him. “You expect me to believe all of this is just from… busking?” 

“They really like my voice.” 

“Yes, I know. Will you tell me why?” 

“Must there be a reason?” 

He takes a deep breath when you give him a pointed look before pulling himself to his feet and crossing the aisle towards you. You get the urge to run, but you don’t. You hold your breath instead as he kneels at your feet. He holds his palm up towards you, like he’s expecting a high five. 

“I’ll tell you,” he says. “If you hold my hand while I do.” 

“You won’t fall over this time?” 

“I'm much closer to the ground if I do.”

It’s a strange request, but everything about him was strange. You hate not knowing things. So you press your palm to his, watching his face for any discomfort. His eyes fix on where your hands connect as he folds his fingers to intertwine with yours. It’s far too intimate for someone you’d only met twice before, but you need answers. 

“This will be… odd,” he says. “You’ll have to be open minded.” 

You huff out a small laugh. “Yes, well I wouldn’t expect anything else from you.” 

He smiles. It’s a sad smile.

“I’m cursed,” he says eventually. It’s blunt and plain, no room for doubting the seriousness of it. “I exist to tempt others, to lure them without ever being able to touch them.” He takes a deep breath, readjusting the way your hands are intertwined so he can rest them in your lap. “It’s a safety measure, I assume. No one can resist me so to counteract any complications that might create… touch is repulsive. To both parties. I sing and I tempt them with beauty… and they want me. They want me so badly they throw their money at me in the hope it’ll make me see them.”

“Cursed.”

You look down at your intertwined hands, the warmth of his skin seeping into yours. Okay so he’s either teasing you or he’s completely insane. 

“I can prove it to you,” he says, seemingly interpreting the look on your face successfully. “If I must. It won’t be pleasant.” 

“We’re holding hands,” you point out. You weren’t in pain.

“Yes,” he says with a small smile. “We are.” 

“Well, doesn’t that disprove your… story.” 

He squeezes your hand a little. “You aren’t lured in the same way. My voice is ‘fine’, as you put it. I’m pretty enough, but I’m not—” 

“What’s your point?” 

“Curses can be broken,” he says. “Surrounded by all those books and you’ve never read a fairytale?” 

You want to shove him onto his ass and wipe the teasing smirk off his face. 

“You’re a curse-breaker. Come to set me free.” 

You yank your hand from his. 

“Is this fun for you? Do you want me to fall for this story you're spinning and make myself a fool just for you to waltz into the dining room and laugh about it with your friends?” 

He frowns. “No.” 

“Why do you sing?” you ask. “If this is a ‘curse’ that you hate so much. Why set up these events to sing for them all?” 

“I need it,” he says, brows still drawn together. “Or I'll die. I… feed from their adoration, or the curse does. It’s wrapped around me, yanking at my soul. I feed it or I die.” 

The look on his face, the tormented glaze to his eyes. It’s too convincing. He’s either as good of an actor as he is a singer or he’s…

“How would you prove it?” 

He pulls himself to his feet. “I would let someone touch me. Your friend, perhaps.” 

“And what would happen?” 

“She would… be upset. She’d be in pain.” 

“It hurts?” 

“It’s excruciating.” 

“You can’t do it to me instead?” 

He shakes his head. “You’re the exception, angel. I can’t hurt you even if I wanted to.” 

“Don’t call me that.” 

“That’s what you feel like to me.” 

“Well, don’t.” 

“Alright.” 

He’s quiet as you leave the room, as you leave his house. You pull your phone out to let Elise know you’ve left early. She’ll understand. You don’t like crowds. 

— 

It’s weeks before the small bell above your shop door signals his arrival. You’d almost managed to put him from your mind and then there he is, standing in your space with his hands shoved in his pockets. 

“What do you want?”

He steps towards you. He looks nervous. 

“I’d like to be free, angel.” 

“I said not to call me that.” 

“Right, sorry.” 

You sigh, stepping down from the ladder to face him. “Okay, tell me what to do.” Humour him. 

One corner of his mouth lifts up. “What?” 

“How do I free you? Break the curse,” you say, gesturing at nothing in particular. 

He looks around you, at the shelves crammed to bursting with books. “No fairy tales at all?” he questions. When you say nothing he redirects his attention to you again, suddenly looking a little more solemn. “I’m afraid you’ll have to fall in love with me, angel.” 

You laugh. You can’t help it. “Oh alright, then,” you manage eventually. “Is that all?” 

He isn’t laughing with you, you realise. It sobers you. 

“I would really, really like to be free.” 

“The fairytales you keep alluding to. Don’t they usually fall in love before the big curse is revealed? A little less pressure that way don’t you think?” 

He pulls one hand from his pocket and rubs the back of his head. “It would feel… wrong. To spend time with you while keeping that from you. Wouldn’t you feel… used? If you did end up… feeling something for me and then discovering I had something more to gain from you.” 

You frown. “Yeah, I guess I would. But if you want to be free that badly, why does it matter? You don’t know me.” 

“Like I said, I can’t hurt you. It’s… maybe it’s part of it. I don’t know. I feel…” he trails off, eyes dropping to the ground. “It’s strange,” he continues after a moment. “I’ve known about you, that someone like you existed out there somewhere. Someone who could fix me. I just—How long have you been here? How long have you had this place?” 

“5 years.” 

“5—” he pauses, sucking in a deep breath. “Right.” 

“How long have you been… like this?” 

“6 years,” he says, shoving his hand back in his pocket. “You’ve been here this whole time. This curse is cruel, I shouldn’t be surprised. I just—” 

“Swear to me,” you interrupt, taking a small step towards him. “Swear to me this isn’t some elaborate joke. I don’t want to see anyone in pain. I don’t want you to have to prove this to me. I just… I need you to look me in the eyes and swear to me.” 

He takes a hesitant step towards you as he lifts his hands from his pockets. “Is there someone you… someone you don’t like very much?” he asks, a tiny smile forming on his lips. “Someone you wouldn’t mind seeing getting a very short jolt of pain?” 

“You said it’s excruciating. Is it that way for you too?” 

He nods. 

“No, there’s no one I’d want to feel pain.” 

He sighs. “I want to prove it to you. I want you to be sure of me.” 

“You’ll have to prove yourself worth trusting. If I'm going to love you, I’ll have to trust you, won’t I?” 

He reaches slowly for your hand. You let him take it, lifting it up so he can inspect it. He traces his finger over your palm, tracing the lines that cross your skin. “I’ll do my best,” he whispers. 

—

It doesn’t take you long to recognise his patterns of behaviour. He visits the shop regularly, finding some way to touch you in these small ways before he leaves. You can’t help but stay quiet as he does, afraid to interrupt him. You can see it, the way he gets comfort from your touch. You suppose if you’d been unable to touch another person at all for six years you’d be a little desperate for human touch as well. Your hands are the focus of his attention. You’re sure he must know them as well as he knows his own. He traces the lines on your palms, plays with the rings on your fingers, wraps his fingers around your wrists. 

He’s replaced the local bookclub as your biggest customer. It’s not possible for him to be reading all the books he buys. Still, he comes in once a week to ask for more recommendations. You slip in the occasional test. A vampire romance or fifty shades of grey. He never comments on it. Not until today. 

“Are you trying to hint at something?” he says from the lounge chair tucked into a corner of the store. He’d taken to spending time reading as you worked. It was the only evidence you had that he read at all. 

“Hint at what?” you ask from behind the counter. 

“Your kinks.” 

You choke on your tea, slapping your palm against your chest to prevent the liquid from entering your lungs. 

“I’m sorry?” you choke out. 

“I’ve noticed your recommendations are getting a little… adult. Do you have a thing for BDSM?” 

You duck around the corner to check for any quiet customers lingering between the shelves. “Would you be quiet?” you scold as you march towards him. One of your regulars is perusing at the back of the store. 

“Come on, angel. Don’t be shy.” 

“Are you telling me you’ve been reading them?” 

“I liked the one with the priest. Forbidden fucking is exciting, isn’t it? Doing it where you shouldn’t—” 

You slap your palm over his mouth. You can feel his grin form. “If you don’t shut up, I’m banning you from the store.” 

His eyes sparkle with mischief but he nods. You release him before wiping your palm on your jeans. 

—

It’s only a few months after that when you notice it. He’s your employee. You didn’t hire him and you don’t pay him but as you hand him the box opener so he can start taking stock of the next box you find yourself frozen with the realisation. 

He frowns, pulling himself to his feet. “What’s wrong?” 

“What are you doing?” 

He closes the box opener. “Well I was about to use this sharp thing to slice the tape from this box so I can take the books out.” 

“Shut up.” 

One corner of his mouth lifts up. 

“You’re working here,” you point out. 

“Am I?” 

You nod. Silent. 

“Would you like me to leave?” 

You frown. “No.” 

He smiles, sliding the knife open. “Then I’ll continue with the box, shall I?” 

—

You stir awake at the gentle nudge against your shoulder. “Angel,” he whispers. “It’s late.” 

“How late?” you mumble, rubbing at your eyes as you uncurl your body from the unnatural position you’d fallen asleep in on the lounge chair. 

“I closed an hour ago,” Minho says. He crouches at your feet, hair standing on all ends from where he’s dragged his fingers through it. You reach out to smooth it down. 

“Thanks,” you say through a yawn. 

“Why are you so tired?” he asks, reaching out to take your hand so he can trace patterns across it. 

“Couldn’t sleep.” 

“Any reason?” 

You trace over his face with your eyes, taking in his long lashes, the slope of his nose, the curve of his upper lip. “Would you… be spending time with me if I wasn’t…” you trail off, suddenly embarrassed. 

“Do you trust me?” he whispers. 

Your eyes flick across his, the soft light from the lamp doing just enough to make the deep brown clear. He needed something from you. You’d barely known him a year and he was the strangest person you’d ever met. It was probably foolish to trust him, dangerous at the very least. 

“I do,” you answer. “I… trust you.” 

He rocks forward, bringing his head down to your lap so he can press his lips to your hand. He peppers little kisses across your skin and you tangle your free hand into the hair at the back of his head. It falls down the back of his neck now, longer than it’s ever been before. 

“Keep me,” he mutters, just clear enough for you to make out. “Will you keep me, angel? Please. I can’t hurt you. I swear.” 

“Okay.” 

—

“What?”

You blink, finding Minho’s sparkly eyes fixed on you. He’s smiling, like you’ve missed something funny. 

“You were staring,” he says. 

You drop your gaze to the floor, feeling your cheeks warm. 

His soft footfalls as he approaches are the only sounds in the store. It was a quiet day, heavy rain preventing many customers from venturing out. He arrives at the bottom of the ladder, holding it steady as you descend. When you turn he doesn’t remove his hands, caging you in. 

“Am I pretty?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you breathe. 

“Yeah?” he repeats with a small smile. “Have I grown on you?” 

You fiddle with the tie on his hoodie as his fingers stroke through your hair. Grown on you felt like the wrong way to describe it. Inside you. He’d tangled himself with you and now you weren’t sure you could ever let him go. You’d spent a few sleepless nights imagining spending your days in the store without him. A small part of you was afraid. Afraid that if—when—you told him you loved him, he’d leave. Curse broken, needs fulfilled. 

“A little,” you mutter, eyes fixed on his chest. 

“Only a little?” 

You look up into his eyes, then to his lips. “Would you leave if it was more than a little?” 

“Hm?” he questions as he tugs a little on one of your earlobes. 

“That’s what you’re here for isn’t it? You need me to—” you suck in a breath. “You need me to love you. Will you leave after that?” 

He frowns, hand dropping to cup the side of your neck. It’s a comforting hold, his thumb stroking gently behind your ear. “Why would I leave?” 

“I’m your curse-breaker, right? That’s my purpose? That’s what you need from me.” 

“I don’t need anything from you, angel,” he says. It’s a little unfocused, like his mind is somewhere else. His thumb keeps stroking.“It’s been two months since I needed to sing. It let me go.” 

You drop the hoodie ties and grip the fabric instead. “What?” 

He offers you a small smile. “You freed me,” he whispers. 

The curse is broken… and he’d stayed. “You’re still here.” 

“Mm, do you want me to leave?” 

“No,” you answer quickly before pulling him towards you, tasting him for the first time. He stumbles a little, humming into your mouth as he steadies himself. It’s a frenzied stumble around the store. You are hardly aware you’re moving at all before you find yourself pushed up against a wall of books. 

“The store is open,” he mumbles into your neck. 

“Don’t care,” you mutter before you grip his hair and pull his mouth back to yours. 

He laughs, taking a large step backwards and detaching you with ease. “Yes, you do. I’ll be right back.” 

You attempt to catch your breath as he locks up, dropping your head back against the books and closing your eyes. You loved him. You loved him and he knew and he didn’t leave you. 

His finger traces your lips when he returns. “You’re smiling,” he whispers. 

Your eyes flutter open. “You didn’t leave me.” 

He frowns. “I was just locking up.” 

You huff out a short laugh. “No, I mean… two months ago.” 

“Ah,” he says before pressing his lips together and adopting an exaggerated thoughtful expression. “Why didn’t I leave?”

You press your finger to his cheek. “Do you think I’m pretty?” you ask. 

His eyes flick to yours, the teasing expression dropping off his face. “Angel,” he whispers. “You’re wrapped around my soul.” 

You’re both quiet after that, little noises of pleasure the only sounds between you as he pushes you against the shelves. You snake your hands under his hoodie, pressing your hands to his skin. He’s so warm. He’d taken your hands shortly after you’d entered the store, cold and wet from the downpower. You’d frozen still as he lifted them to his mouth and breathed over them, warming them gently. 

“Love touching you,” he mumbles against your lips. “So soft. You were worth it.” His lips move to the corner of your mouth. “I couldn’t touch anyone… for years and you were there at the end… a soft angel come to save me, hm? Let me feel you…” 

He continues muttering the same way as he presses kisses across your skin. You snake your hands up his back, lifting his hoodie as you go. He barely detaches his lips from you for a second as he pulls it over his head and tosses it aside. 

The rain seems to get heavier as you’re consumed by him, offering you a curtain of privacy from the world. It feels completely safe, here with him, in your favourite place on earth. It's yours, this place, him. You bite into his neck, just enough to leave tiny marks in his skin. He grunts, threading his fingers into the hair at the back of your head. “The angel bites,” he laughs as he slips his other hand up your thighs and under your dress. 

“Stay here with me,” you gasp into his mouth as his fingers brush your clothed centre. 

“I’m staying,” he breathes. 

“You can’t leave.” 

He smirks as his fingers brush back and forth, barely touching. ��Listen to me. I’m not leaving you, yeah? I’ll never walk out the door again if that’s what you want.” 

“You have a—a palace,” you gasp as he hooks his fingers into your underwear. 

His lips ghost over yours as his fingers explore you, slipping through your folds leisurely. “Would you rather live there?” he asks.

“Wouldn’t you?” 

He pulls your bottom lip between his teeth before releasing you. “Wherever you are,” he whispers as he tugs your underwear down your legs. 

“Here,” you breathe. 

“Alright, we’ll live here.” 

You wrap your arms around his neck, like you can hold the sentiment inside him and physically prevent him from changing his mind. We, he said. We’ll live here. Suddenly his hands are under your thighs and he’s practically scooping you up, slotting himself closer towards you and lifting you up against the shelves. His bare torso is warm against your thighs as you wrap yourself around him securely. 

“That sounds nice,” you mumble into the crook of his neck. 

“Just nice?” he says back, the mischief clear in his tone. 

“It sounds so wonderful, I could die from joy.” 

He chuckles against your temple. “Don’t do that. Don’t leave me.” 

“One condition.” 

“Hm?” 

“Would you fuck me now?” 

He makes that face again, like he’s deep in thought. His mouth forms a straight line. You kiss it off him, forcing him to part his lips. “Alright, angel,” he mumbles. “I’ll fuck you now.” 

His movements are lazy and patient as he pulls himself free from his trousers. You practically latch yourself onto his neck, sucking at his skin desperately. Then he’s playing with you, wetting the tip of his cock along your folds like he has all the time in the world. You’re on the brink of tears when he finally shoves you against the shelves and lets you sink down onto him. 

“‘m inside you,” he mumbles into your shoulder. 

You hum, dropping your head back. “Yeah,” you breathe. “You are.” 

please don’t forget to leave feedback, it took me lots of time and effort and hearing your thoughts is what makes me want to write more. thank you.