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almostfoxglove · 10 months ago

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HOLD STILL

written for @punkshort's AU August Challenge

RATING: Explicit (18+) PAIRING: Bodyguard!Dave York x f!Reader WORD COUNT: 3.4k CW: Dave's filthy mouth, pwp, smut (cockwarming, unprotected piv, creampie, sorta soft-dom!dave but really he's just bossy, sorta praise kink, a couple pussy pronouns don’t look at me), and one nonsense tense switch just for the hell of it I guess.

SUMMARY: On your last night together, Dave agrees to compromise.

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You want him, but he won’t fuck you. Not once, not even quickly, not even with just his hands. Dave York—ever stoic, unflinching—insists on doing his job and his job alone. And you, as he so enjoys reiterating, are not his job. Protecting you is.

For three weeks you’ve smothered the calendar hung on the kitchen wall with another red X each morning, whittling the days until you give your polished testimony and say goodbye to him for good. Now the court date looms heavy on the horizon—it’ll rise tomorrow with the sun.

In the meantime—these last, dwindling hours—you roam the grand rooms of an apartment rented for your protection, your anonymity, at the very skirt of the city where you’d surely have lost your mind if not for him. Stationed diligently at your side, hand never more than a twitch from the grip of his gun. So many hours spent alone you've memorized his form: how he looks scanning the curtained windows for any whisper of danger. How he's never complained when you choose cheesy reality shows from the TV guide. Teaching you how to play Spades with a deck of cards soft and worn—from his home, maybe, though you never ask—and letting you win the first hand, lips quirked when you call him out on it, then unapologetically wiping the floor with you for the rest of your isolation.

Yes, you know him, though only in image. Broad and sturdy, shirts each neatly ironed and squarely tucked. The hard line of his jaw and the fullness of his bottom lip. His hair always swept neatly from his face, even when you know he’s recently woken up. Never scruffy, never stubbled. Clean shaven and the smell of nice hotel shampoo.

It’s wrong, how you try to prod him to no avail. No matter your efforts, he says nothing of the way you adorn your body: lacy slips and satin sets at night, hugging silhouettes during the day, hair always done, lipstick never out of place even though you can’t leave the apartment or stand too near the windows. Dave is the only one who sees you, save for the days or hours when he leaves you his clumsy understudy to step down from his post.

He must know you do it for him.

It’s wrong, but you asked once, early on. Tonight?

And Dave’s mouth pinched into a flat, polite line. Unreadable, his face drained of its emotion. His declination drawled deep and heady, a voice that curled your toes and more than once kept you panting alone in your bed that’s not yours at all, just two doors away from his, fingers needy and swirling. No, honey. Not tonight.

Repeated in your mind until it warped like an overplayed tape.

No, honey.

Honey.

Not tonight.

Tonight.

Tonight, he is gone—your last together before the trial—leaving you in the hollow apartment with his proxy, stung. Same dark clothes, same holstered gun, same little piece nestled in his ear, but not half of what you want. You want Dave: a man as solid as he is driven, immutable as he is tempting. Assigned to protect you until you deliver the account that’ll send a monster away.

Perhaps you’ve liked the game—how he watches you, but never gives in—but now it’s lost its shimmer.

Lights dimmed for the evening, all black curtains drawn, the vaulted ceilings of the kitchen feel miles high as you perch on a barstool at the breakfast counter to stare at the calendar taunting you across the quiet room. Beyond the pristine halls you’ve lapped all day like an anxious dog, the city serenades you. Traffic squealing through streets, sirens singing in the distance, the occasional shout of someone walking by outside, eight floors below.

You are not, at night, permitted to part the curtains, lest someone get a glimpse of your illuminated face, but you long to open one now, see if Dave is out there, returning to your little castle turret one final time. Because it’s possible he won’t come back at all—that his coworker will escort you between lobby and truck, between truck and courthouse, between courthouse and whatever comes next. Maybe home. That you’ll never see Dave again, let alone throw caution to the wind and ask once more, tonight?

And then, just then, as your stomach begins to sink with disappointment, you hear the sudden crack of the front door unlocking and the creak of its surrender. You’ve conjured him, somehow, past the stroke of midnight. Then low, rumbled whispers, the unmistakable tone of Dave’s voice mumbling to his understudy. Your heart speeds as the door closes again and his stand-in retreats into the hall. How dizzying, the sound of locks settling into their rightful places, turned by Dave’s unerring hands.

When he appears in the dining room behind you, bomber jacket hanging from one arm, he tucks a tiny apology into the twitch of his lips—or maybe it’s meant to be a smile. “It’s late,” he says, as your eyes drink him in. Polished as ever, despite the hour, not a stitch out of place. “Should be in bed.”

You shrug, hoping you might appear indifferent. “Couldn’t sleep,” you say, aware of how the satin of your robe slopes off your shoulder with no intention of righting it.

Does something darken in his face then, or do you imagine it? You can’t be sure, not in this umbra, at this time of night. Jaw ticking, Dave strides cautiously toward the dining table, drapes his jacket over the back of one glossy chair, and sinks into the seat at the head of the sleek table, same as usual. A quiet kind of reign, his claiming this position, always, for every meal. He scratches his cheek, slips the gun from the holster at his belt to rest on the table, and as he leans back you indulge yourself—how can you not—in the slight buck of his hips as he shifts to stretch out his legs.

“Need your rest,” Dave chides softly. No edge to his tone.

Sighing before you can stop yourself, disappointed all over again as his gaze draws off you to the windows and drapes. On duty, still. On duty, always. Not you. Not tonight. “S’the last night,” you reply, staring at the calendar again. One little red X to go. “You weren’t here.”

Behind you, his deep and measured breath. The shiver of that unflappable restraint, you hope, but you don’t yet dare to look back. He might spook.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

You don’t budge. Don’t move.

“You hear me?” Voice a little harder now, solidifying. When he speaks to you, you always look him in the eye—or you always have before.

Electric, your heart. Revving just a breath faster, just a hair harder, at the sound of him huffing in frustration. Your lips tick up in one corner, hidden, a secret meant only for you. When Dave says your name, your whole body purrs and you at last turn your head enough to let him glimpse your profile, still withholding your gaze.

“Pouting,” he scolds, this time meaning it. “That what this is?”

“Avoiding me,” you counter. “That where you were?”

Dave hmphs, darkness fading and softness returning to his tone. “Course not, honey.”

You look at him now, properly. Barstool spinning as you push off the counter to face him. Under the dusk of dimmed pendant lights over the dining table, Dave glows. In the time you’ve looked away, he’s unbuttoned his shirt one button lower than it’d been when he walked in.

One button lower than you’ve ever seen him wear before.

“Said I’m sorry,” he says again, head tilted. His foot comes out to nudge the leg of the chair beside his, angling it in your direction. “Come here.”

He means for you to sit, maybe play a hand of Spades, but as you slink off the barstool you have no intention of taking the seat. Warmth flushing in your chest, cool, conditioned air greeting your bare legs and collarbones, all the skin not covered by your sleekest sleep set. You swear he drinks the sight of you, for once, as you cross the kitchen toward him. Eyes dark not only from shadows, from the time. Or else you hope, as you come to a stop between Dave’s knees, that the way he’s not yet blinked means what you want it to.

Lips parting, a breath from speaking when you beat him to the punch and ask, “Tonight?” Your chin lowered and eyes searching his. It’s the last night. Might as well show your hand while you still can, before he slinks back into the underbelly of a city where you know he’s lived for years but you’ve never once glimpsed him, and not just because it’s busy.

Because invisible is what he’s paid to be, what he’s good at. Unseen until the fist of him is needed, the gun.

Pink striping his bottom lip, a swipe of his tongue, eyes boring into you. The slightest shake of his head, clean-shaven cheeks sharked in the shadow and golden light. “Honey.” Not a no, honey. Not a not tonight. Just honey, like you’ve imagined.

Emboldened, you caress of your fingertips across his shoulder, tracing the seam of his crisp, pale blue dress shirt. So handsome, always so handsome. A man who takes care of himself, who tidies and cleans without your needing to ask. Spotless, always. Reserved, always. Killing you, always, with every brush of his gaze.

You draw your fingers towards his shirt collar.

“Can’t,” says Dave, softer still. Breathy, almost. You pet the knife-cut of his pressed collar, the button just below it, and his Adam’s apple bobs slowly in his throat. Again, he shakes his head so slightly it looks more like a twitch. A reflex to say no. Not a desire to. “Can’t fuck you, honey. Wouldn’t be right.”

You bite your lip, brows drawing together, not lifting your hand from the button placket of his shirt. “Just tonight,” you breathe, and bat your eyes a little.

At last Dave’s dark eyes drop from yours, scanning the length of you above him with searing precision. Consideration. You slant your head to one side as his gaze slides back up, hesitating on your silk-draped chest, and you suck a sharper breath before it returns to meet yours. He cuffs your wrist with his hand to halt your teasing as he shakes his head once more, licking his bottom lip again with greater meaning. A glint in his eyes, lust finally flaring.

Pride swirls in your stomach, honeyed and wanting. Then he tugs you by the hips with such reflexes you hardly register the movement of his hands before you’re on him, straddling him in the chair, your thighs framing his hips. Held. Your robe fanning behind you, over his knees. Heart pounding dangerously close to a cardiac event.

Dave tsks softly, smirking when you whimper, trying to roll your hips over the heat of his crotch. Those careful, deadly hands lock them in a vice as he clicks his tongue. “Not gonna fuck you,” he murmurs, and you lean in to kiss him but he pulls his head away. “Not gonna kiss you either. Not right.”

You don’t care about right. Now you pout for real, forehead wrinkling, staring at his upturned lips. You feel the unmistakable twitch of him growing hard against you and your cunt throbs in reply, needy and slick. You try to wiggle again but Dave pinches your hips in warning. “Look at me,” he repeats, that edge to his voice that curls your toes, and your eyes snap to his.

“Good girl.”

You moan quietly, made liquid by the tender swipe of his thumb over the satin of your sleep shorts. Your eyes fluttering at such a tiny stroke, not even the meeting of skin.

“You can’t move, okay? Only allowed to sit.” When you don’t answer, too lost to the throb of his cock against your begging core, Dave pinches you again, voice gravelly in a way you’ve not heard before. “You hear me?”

Nodding, you hum. Can’t quite get out the word.

“Need to hear you, honey. Gonna hold still for me?”

“Mhm,” you whine, fighting your every instinct to grind down against him as you meet his lust-blown eyes. “Yes. Only allowed to sit.”

Dave puffs a hot breath out that sends a wake of goosebumps across your chest. “Good girl,” he coos, and your brows pinch at the praise. “Soaking me already, honey. Can’t sleep like this, can you? Just need to turn your brain off, hm?” The movement of his hips below yours is so slight you might imagine it, that tiny grind as his cock grows. You nod, whine softly, and both his thumbs stroke your hips gently before stilling again.

“Show me, honey.” So quiet. So little air between you, and yet too much.

You scan his face until he offers a small nod. Those brown eyes hooded by dark lashes, devouring you without need for the press of his mouth. It’d be soft, you’re certain. The caress of his lips. Maybe the rest of him is hard and deadly, but those would be tender, careful—they’d take you apart, breath by breath. With the same precision with which he darts between shadows and cleans his gun and beats you at cards and tucks your hair behind your ear when you’re falling asleep on the couch, he’d dissolve you kiss by kiss with a kind of grace.

It’s his lips on which you pin your gaze as you let one hand drift between your legs, dipping easily between silk and skin—your body made jelly so quickly and by so little contact, already wet. You pray you don’t imagine the sharpness of his breath when your knuckles accidentally graze against his slacks as you slip your fingers between dewy folds. Then: your hand rising in the dim light, shining, honeyed. Dave watching them, the corner of his mouth cracking just a little. Tensing into his cheek.

He grunts, good girl, and then he’s lifting you just enough to peel down the zip of his slacks, flick open the button, but when your eyes fall hopeful for a glimpse of him he tsks, hooks one finger beneath your chin to tilt your face up, whispers a soft eyes on me, honey as he pulls himself out where you can’t see.

As his knuckles brush against the wet gusset of your shorts, nudging them to the side. Finding no panties to move.

As the head of his cock—plush, warm, weeping—nudges against the ache of you, the thrum of your longing.

He grins, wicked.

Then pressure, a moan lost to the air you’re hardly conscious of and the stretch of him, the slow press in and the ache of your cunt swallowing his girth inch by inch. You whimper, eyelids shuddering like old film, catching only still frames of Dave’s expression as he lowers you gently, burying himself in your drooling heat until you come to rest at his base, flush and full.

So full. Light-headed, sparkling. Your hips must rock because he squeezes your waist. “Hold still, honey,” he coos. “Remember?”

The terms of his touch sounded alright just a breath ago, but now you can’t imagine how you ever agreed. How you’re supposed to stay still with him throbbing inside you like this, heavy and sweet, exactly what you need. A flicker in his eyes like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you, how he’s scrubbing out every thought in your head. Cocky, yes. But earning it.

“Dave,” you sigh, breathy and desperate. Your cunt clenching and squeezing and pushing out slick, probably ruining his slacks but he won’t let you look down, just tilts your head up gently every time it hangs slack. “Please.”

His breathing catches for a beat, then it’s steady again. “I know, I know,” he murmurs, keeping his finger under your chin to keep your eyes on him—but he hardly needs to. You’d swear the whole world drained away the second he slid into you. There’s nothing else past your bodies, past this one dining room chair. Everything else disappears like magic. The trial, the dread, the drone of city noise. The slow leak of your heart knowing this is goodbye—all of it. Gone.

You’d have sworn it impossible to come like this, with no movement at all, but you will. You do. And months from now—safe in the swaddle of your actual apartment that for weeks has stood hollow and dusty, plants withering sadly on their windowsills—you’ll lie in bed longing, missing, remembering. Trying to recreate the swipe of his thick thumb on your clit as you replay this moment in your head. How you whined, wanna take care of you when Dave still wouldn’t let you move, even when you were close, just swiped and swiped his thumb until you were something more than alive, transcending.

How his pupils had set ablaze with your whispered plea. How you’d realized that was the point, for him. The begging and the not giving in.

How he’d growled, “Taking care of you is taking care of me. You don’t think I’m gonna come the second this pussy strangles my cock? ‘Cause I am. S’all I need, honey, just give it to me—”

His voice the thunder to your body’s crackle and lightning.

“Let her take care of me, that’a girl, that’s it, just like that honey, she’s so tight—fuck—so fuckin’ tight around me, just squeezin’ me, gonna come when you do, pretty girl, let me have it.”

How it hit you like a white bolt of heat and light, every cell in you tense and flaming, then melting, boneless on his lap as he murmured sweetly, grunted, tried to lift you off him just in time and you’d finally, finally touched him—lucid in an instant, hands slammed down on the muscle of his shoulders. Mumbling amidst your aftershocks, inside, inside, inside. Eyelids stuttering again, back to picture frames as your cunt seized and begged in tandem.

The snarl of his upper lip.

His knotted jaw.

Tongue sucked against his front teeth, resolve crumbling.

The allowance granted to your hands to stay right there, fisting his shirt collar as his locked your waist in a bruising vice. His hips bucking only once, grinding the head of his cock deeper, deliciously, almost too good to take.

“Fuck, fuckfuck—yeah, that what she needs, honey? Needs me to fill her up?”

You’ll remember your own reply as you near a second-rate heaven in the nest of your duvet at home, all frantic hands and thrusting digits and eyes slammed shut, repainting him in your head. Golden in that gloomy light, hair straying out of position across his misted forehead for the first time. Yes. Please. Dave. Yes. Inside. Please—and his grunt, dark and sweet as caramel, as burnt brown sugar. That tiny grin dragging at his soft lips, pleased. You’d pleased him, surprised him maybe.

That can make you sparkle now, to remember.

“Okay, honey. Okay—shit—gonna give it to you, hm? Gonna give you all of it, baby—she’s squeezing me so goddamn tight, fuck, wanna stay here all night—”

Then the granting of a wish, the heat of him spilling into your cunt, the unmistakable slide of slick leaking between your thighs and onto his; you didn’t have to look to know. You could feel it, that wholeness overflowing. You can almost feel it now; three fingers might be a poor attempt at recreation, but you fall off the cliff all the same, his name on your tongue, a cry in the night, all the curtains dark and drawn as you come down breathless and drowsy, your whole body limp and spent as it’d been that night with him—when he’d tucked himself away and petted your hair back from your face, so gentle with you, cooing that you did so good, honey. Such a good girl. Gonna get you into bed now, hm? Need your sleep, honey. Come on.

Carrying you into your not-real bedroom, tucking you in so tenderly, like he hadn’t just taken you apart at the molecules. And Dave’s lips were just as plush as you’d imagined when they grazed your forehead, his big hand petting your cheek once more, then turning out the lights. That deep timbre whispering from the doorway, goodnight. The door clicking shut. All of it perfect. How you’d known you mattered more than a job for just one moment in time.

dividers by @saradika-graphics

#dave york fanfiction #dave york x reader #dave york #dave york smut #pedro pascal #dave york x you #the equalizer 2 #dave york fanfic #au august #shortieswritingchallenge #punkshort #myfics #almostfoxglove #smut #one shot #fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #fic: holdstill #do not perceive me for 3-6 business days

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pastryfication · 10 months ago

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love at first fire | lando norris

part of the love at first . . . series

you’re jolted awake by the shrill scream of the fire alarm, cutting through the silence of the night like a knife. groggy and disoriented, you sit up, heart racing, trying to make sense of the sudden chaos. it takes a moment for the reality to sink in—the alarm is real, and you need to get out.

you fumble in the dark, grabbing the first things within reach: your phone, your keys, a hoodie you pull over your sleep-rumpled hair. the alarm continues its relentless wail as you slip into your shoes, barely managing to shove your feet in as you head for the door.

the hallway is a blur of movement, neighbors rushing out of their apartments, eyes wide with panic and confusion. the air is thick with the scent of smoke, faint but unmistakable, urging you to move faster. you join the stream of people heading for the stairs, your mind racing as fast as your feet.

outside, the cool night air hits you like a splash of water. you’re on the street now, along with the rest of the building’s residents, all of you looking up at the structure that’s been your home, now alive with flashing lights and the distant sound of sirens. the alarm is still blaring, muffled but persistent, a constant reminder of the danger you’ve just escaped.

you’re shivering, partly from the cold, partly from the adrenaline still coursing through your veins. you pull your hoodie tighter around yourself, scanning the crowd, searching for familiar faces, but mostly, just trying to calm your racing heart.

and then you see him.

at first, it’s just a face in the crowd, someone standing a few feet away, hands shoved into the pockets of a jacket, dark hair tousled as if he’d just rolled out of bed. which, you realize, he probably has. his expression mirrors your own—confused, a little dazed, and clearly not expecting to be outside at this hour.

your heart skips a beat. he notices you looking, and for a split second, your eyes meet. you feel a jolt, like a current running through your body, something electric and undeniable. it’s not just recognition, it’s something deeper, something that makes the world tilt on its axis, leaving you momentarily breathless.

he takes a step closer, his eyes still locked on yours, and you realize he’s coming over. your mind races, searching for something to say, but all words seem to have abandoned you, leaving you with nothing but the sound of your own pounding heart.

“crazy night, huh?” he says, his voice warm and tinged with a hint of a smile, as if the situation isn’t entirely unwelcome.

you manage a nod, still struggling to find your voice. “yeah, not exactly how i planned on spending it.”

he chuckles, and the sound comforts you. “same here. didn’t expect to meet anyone at this hour either.”

there’s a pause, the kind that should be awkward but isn’t. instead, it feels like a moment suspended in time, something fragile and precious that neither of you wants to break.

“you live here?” he asks, nodding toward the building behind you.

“yeah,” you say, finally finding your voice. “third floor.”

“me too,” he says, and there’s something in the way he says it that makes you wonder how you never ran into him before. “funny how we’ve probably passed each other a hundred times and never noticed.”

“guess it took a fire alarm to bring us together,” you say, and you can’t help but smile.

he grins back, and for a moment, the world around you fades—the noise, the people, the flashing lights. it’s just the two of you, standing in the middle of the street in the dead of night, and it feels like the most natural thing in the world.

“maybe we should do something less dramatic next time,” he says, his tone light, but his eyes serious.

“i’d like that,” you reply, feeling a warmth spread through you that has nothing to do with the fire.

you can’t shake the feeling that there’s something familiar about him, something you can’t quite place. but it doesn’t matter, not really. what matters is the way he’s looking at you, like you’re the only person in the world, like this is a moment that’s meant to be.

and as the two of you stand there, you start to talk—about the building, about the chaos of the night, about everything and nothing at all. he’s easy to talk to, and you find yourself laughing despite the situation, the tension of the night melting away.

it’s not until the fire trucks arrive, lights flashing and engines rumbling, that you catch a glimpse of something that makes you pause. one of the firefighters does a double-take when he sees him, and then, as if realizing who he is, offers a small, knowing smile.

you glance back at the guy standing next to you, your heart skipping a beat as the pieces start to fall into place. the familiar face, the way he carries himself, the recognition in the firefighter’s eyes—it all clicks.

he catches your expression, a small smile playing on his lips. “you just realized, didn’t you?”

you feel your cheeks flush with embarrassment. “i . . . yeah,” you admit, unable to keep the smile off your face. “you’re lando norris.”

“guilty,” he says with a grin. “but let’s keep it between us, yeah? at least for tonight.”

and just like that, in the middle of the chaos, you realize that something has shifted, something new has begun. it’s not just the fire that’s burning—it’s the start of something between you and lando, something that feels like it was meant to be.

and as you stand there, side by side, lando’s hand slowly reach in down to intertwine with yours, you know that this is a night you’ll never forget. the night everything changed. the night you met him. the night of love at first fire.

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pome-seed · 1 month ago

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The Soldier's Keeper ★ 30

Pairing: Winter Soldier!Bucky x Doctor!Reader

Summary: Bucky finds your letter.

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: Canon- typical violence. Blood. Loss. Everything. (I'm so sorry.)

Song Rec: Chasing Cars by Sleeping At Last

Authors Note: A little short, a little specific, but I hope you guys like it. ALSO, if you want to be apart of the taglist, let me know :)

Series Masterlist Next Chapter

“Thank you Bucky. For everything.”

Bucky nearly collapsed as he reached the alleyway. Sirens wailed in the distance.

It was empty.

With trembling hands, Bucky followed the trail of blood to the hole in the wall. The loose brick laid on the floor, stained red. He swallowed the bile in his throat as he followed the streaks of crimson.

Where was she?

The old fire escape ahead ached and creaked. Its ladder hung low.

Bucky stood below, staring at the rusted metal. People from the end of the alley whispered and pointed around the street, sharing the news of what occurred.

Bucky curled a cold fist around the first hinge. He pulled himself up, his stomach turning as he felt your chilling blood smear into his palms.

At the top, all he found was the shattered pieces of the radio. His breath hitched in his chest.

No.

He called out your name, his voice echoing and bouncing off the walls. He dragged his fingers through the wet stain dripping from the brick wall.

He was too late.

His knees hit the unsteady metal floor.

A feeling he’d long grown used to welled in his chest, spreading and poisoning his veins. Loss. But this was different. This was fresh. This was new.

This was you.

This was grief.

The team never came.

He sat there, on the floor of his once shared home, for hours. He stated at his trembling hands, blinking through a haze. He could still feel the curdled splotches of your blood against his palms. He could still hear your voice.

He waited, almost hoping they’d show up. But they never did. Not the next day, or the day after that.

He was alone, and safe, and it made him hate himself in an entirely new way.

He sat beside the bed, staring at the dent in the mattress from your body. You were just another one of his victims. And perhaps, the most innocent of all.

The most kind woman he’d ever known. The most understanding. The gentlest. The only person he’d felt safe with in decades.

Gone.

Because of him.

He stared, chewing his lip until it bled, the sound of your voice echoing in his mind.

But then, he saw it.

Peaking out beneath the mattress, was the soft corner of a page. Its white color stood out against the stained floorboards. He reached, tugging the page out from beneath the bed. It was two pieces of printer paper, its edges frayed. There was a crease across the center, like it was folded and unfolded over and over.

He turned it over, and saw the wispy handwriting.

Dear Bucky,

Hi. I feel weird writing to you like this, knowing you’re sitting a few feet away from me. But I feel like I have to. I wanted to write this because I honestly have no idea what's going to happen next. I never have any idea what the next minute will hold. I don’t know when it will happen, but I feel this constant, looming anxiety that something awful is going to happen. Someone might pop out of the bathroom one day with a gun. Or someone will be waiting for us in the laundromat and have the place surrounded. I don’t know when, but I know this isn’t forever. So, I wanted to tell you all the things I feel we never say.

You’re the only person in my life that will know me in my last moments, and I want you to actually know me. I want someone to know me. So here it is. All the things too small to tell you, too insignificant, and maybe even stupid. My name is Y/n L/n. My birthday is XX.XX.XXXX. My favorite color is green.

I have two cats that I’ve had since I was in high school, and they are my everything. When I was a kid I wanted to be a pirate and go on adventures. I guess I can say a bit of that dream came true. I love Italian and Mexican food. I love dancing, but I’ve never done it, not really. There's a lot of things in life I’ve always wanted to do, but been too afraid to go for. I don’t have many friends, I never have. But I’m glad to say that I consider you, James Bucky Barnes, to be my friend. I barely know you, and I doubt I ever will, but I trust you with my life. When I first met you, I was terrified of you and everything around me. But now I know that you would never willingly hurt me, or anyone else. You’re a good man. No matter what you might say.

I want you to know me, but I also want you to know what I think of you. I’ve spent every day with you, sharing a space, a bathroom, a captivity. I know you, maybe not to the bone, or in the little ways that I might want, but I know you. You’re good. You want to be good. You make my days easier, and I look forward to talking to you every morning. Maybe it’s because without you, I’d go insane. But still. I want to. Bucky, I want to thank you for everything you’ve done for me. Whether it was out of guilt, or because you wanted to, you’ve done so much for me.

You saved my life. You helped me keep living. You’ve been kind to me, when all I felt was fear. You’re someone I care about very much.

I hope you know that you’re a good man. I hope you know that everything you touch doesn't break. It's not evil, because you’re not evil. You want to be better, and that alone makes you better.

Thank you, Bucky, for everything.

Bucky let out a shaky breath into his palm as he reread the last line. You never finished writing it, he concluded, from the large space left on the page and the fact that you hadn’t signed it. You must have been writing it at night, when he was asleep.

He never noticed.

But he saw the watermarks. The spots where your tears stained the paper. He saw where your fingers worried the corners of the papers until they frayed. He saw the way your handwriting got messier. The way your hand must have shook.

He dropped the papers onto the bed and buried his face in his hands.

You were gone.

A/N: Short but ouch. The personal details in the letter, if they don't match with your just pretend they were something else, haha.

@rafesgurl @pleasecallmeunhinged @jason-todd-fangirl-14 @frog-fans-unite @lonelyghosts-stuff @cherryandsugar @a-world-with-pure-imagination @unicornqueen05 @cupids-mf-arrow @sharkylalala @littlesuniee @meineguete @hawkinsavclub1983 @theconsultingdoctor10 @dollface-xoxo @bloodmocha @natalia42069 @nicolebarnes @fallen-w1ngs @justachillgirllui @avaout

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running-with-kn1ves · 8 months ago

Note

CAN WE PLEASE HAVE A PART 2 FOR THE KILLER CLOWN POOKIE :((((

A/N: Long awaited, took me forever to actually finish, but HERE IT IS. I really struggled making an interesting part 2, so I hope you find it mildly interesting anon (-‿-")

Link to 1st part found here!

TW: Murderous killer clown, mentions of past killings, blood, kidnapped reader, forced close proximity, isolation torture

Synopsis: Kidnapped by your killer clown stalker, you navigate being stuck in his toy room and being fed a very personal dinner, all while trying to avoid his loving insanity.

A room full of dolls, no matter their origin or purpose, is never an endearing sight. You swore even if the off-putting, Raggedy Ann and porcelain, dust-ridden dolls were anime figurines and children’s collectibles, you wouldn’t feel any safer in this hellscape. “Your punishment” he called it, and a punishment it was. Like a child made to spend the rest of the day in its bedroom, you were tied snuggly to the recliner chair in birthday string, forced to stare back at the eyes and broken limbs of endless toys. Of his, toys. Was this room part of the abandoned warehouse connected to the shit hole he called his home? Why did this room smell so repugnantly of petrichor and mold, when the rest of the “house” was either doused in bleach or rot that made your nose so dry it bled?

Maybe, if you had ever learned to properly meditate, the hours in here wouldn’t feel so head-splitting. The darkness nearly brought you to insanity, begging for the arrival of your captor to come slinking back in with another microwaved meal. You would’ve welcomed his manic personality and demented point of view, if it meant you could hear anything besides the echo of your own thoughts and the crushing sound of an analog clock's ticking.

If only you were smarter, stronger, faster. You could’ve gotten out sooner, could’ve kept yourself away from this kidnapping entirely. But it was your stubbornness that led you to be “disciplined”, inside the toy room. Two hours ago on the shelf behind you, an old fire truck (you guessed, from the siren sound and reflecting red) went off, falling to the floor and proceeding to wail for several minutes. Even with your erratic, terror-stricken sobs leading you to beg for freedom from this room, your captor never unbolted the door.

You hadn’t even heard his footsteps from the other side. Maybe he was out luring another victim, adding to the stockpile of bloody buckets in the closet, or perhaps your replacement-- a relieving sentiment. But you knew, from the hours he droned on about soulmates and how your appreciation of him that night that seemed years ago, you weren’t going anywhere. Atleast, not without provocation.

Your exhaustion didn’t let you care if there was someone chained in the woodcutting section of the warehouse, if there was another layer of gore on the ground. You just wanted out from here, food in your gnawing stomach. You could even pretend to apologize, to care for him. Okay, maybe not that far, but you could give a convincing act. By now, you were sorry. Sorry you didn’t open your mouth to his prodding questions, didn’t comply when now it feels like it would’ve been so easy.

You licked at the corner of your mouth, hoping a salty, fallen tear could reach your tongue. Your lips were so cracked, you’d give anything for chapstick, for some water to cover your sawdusted throat.

So hoarse from screaming and wracking with sobs, you wondered if this was how he was planning to kill you. The day was inevitable, after what you’d seen him do… but, you really thought it’d be more horrific than this, more… agonizing. Maybe you should be grateful. Dehydration really isn’t too bad compared to drawing blood or whatever sick, Saw-type torture he had in mind.

And like that, when you were near accepting this newfound death, Satan spoke.

The creak of an industrial metal door respunded in your pounding head, your neck snapping and cracking to look toward it's screech.

“Hm-- I thought I let you out before I left.” His signature, raspy voice rendered muffled under his mask. “How long have you been in here?”

The swift blade of a hunting knife came to the back of the recliner, letting the tight ribbon binding your hands and body fall to the ground, harmlessly. It looked so small now, so thin and fitting for this uncharacteristically silly, dusted room.

“I--” You cut yourself off with a blood-spitting cough, the sensation of needles coming up and out of your throat.

“Oh rats… look at you, covered in dust and all tear-stricken; It was only twelve hours,” He brushed the wet spot on your dusty cheek. “Sweet doll… that’s all it takes to drive you insane?”

He laughed a short snort, reeking of dried blood and dirt. The diamond-patterned gloves usually adorning his bone-thin fingers were already gone, cold and clean hands pulling your bound wrists forward out of the chair. He drug you up far enough to get you out of the recliner. Legs weak and practically immobile, you did your best to keep your distance; but he was determined to make you lean on him, taking your hands to inspect.

“Bruises don’t look too bad on you…” He mumbled, watching the dark ring that had formed below your palms. “But it's not right, I need to take better care of you, don’t I?”

He asked, as if your say meant anything. But you knew this; you were getting a hold of the game now.

Nodding your head, you leaned just a tad against his damp shoulder for support, nearly ready to fall to the ground. From the sound of the metal roof, it had been raining only an hour earlier. You prayed it was rain drops staining into your sleeve.

“I don’t feel good..” You mumbled, voice cracking under pressure.

“Of course you don’t. That was the whole point of this little time out session, dollheart; but I bet you want to come out, to talk a little bit now, don’t you?”

He was always too comfortable, acting as if you were more than just an angry hostage. You were his darling, his pet, his everything. It made you sick, listening to the way he talked at you-- feeling like you were watching yourself from outside your body, as if these pet names were for somebody else.

You forgot the whole purpose of this endeavor was to get you to cooperate; when you didn’t respond immediately, you could feel him tense up.

Even a nod wasn’t enough, like you expected. What did he want, again? For you to say his name, to listen and to speak? All this time in here, and you barely reflected on the purpose of your discipline.

He gave you another opportunity, a short kindness, placing his ridden jacket over your shoulders.

“Are you hungry? Ready to come out and eat without problems?”

You swallowed the little saliva you could muster.

“Please, yes...Quin.” You were so quiet, a small part of you doing it on purpose, shame in saying your kidnapper’s name so casually like old pals. You kept that anger at the back of your mind, ignoring how speaking rubbed your throat into a deeper raw.

He led you through the thick steel door away from your prison, rubbing at the back of your neck in an attempt to soothe the state your throat was left in. You hobbled your way out, gaining some strength back in your jello-ified legs.

“What do you want to eat, chicken or beef?”

You almost threw up in your mouth remembering the frozen pasta options you had consumed for the past two months. Would you ever get to taste something besides starch and fake meat again?

“...Chicken. Please.” You added, forgetting you were on thin ice. One wrong move and another needle-full of mystery fluid was stuck into your thigh and you went eye-to-eye with Raggedy Ann again.

You let the apathetic creature grab hold of your sweating fingers, hand-in-hand as the labored breathing behind his stained, venetian-like mask became unbearable to listen to. It was different from the one you had seen him in the night you were dragged here; most of the time he wore something new, maybe depending on his mood or something as superficial as his outfit, you weren't sure yet. It made you more afraid, only being able to see shadowed green eyes beneath a painted porcelain, often accented with red and gold to accompany the splatters of gore that make way to his face.

Quin watched you walk barefooted and soulless, taking in the familiar sights of the small inhabitable area of his “home.” What wasn’t inhabited by you most of the time, was reserved for Quin’s… activities. Despite thinking about what he must’ve done today, you were ravenous.

He wasn’t wearing the usual get-up today-- the circus-like, ridiculous clown-inspired rags he dared to do most of his bidding in. It was… oddly casual, muted colors with dark layers to shield him from the cold. The mask looked out of place, wisps of fiery red hair covering his forehead and ears. The color was fresh, not fading into blonde like the last time you saw him a mere half-day ago.

Quin pushed your shoulders down, placing you in the wooden chair that had already been pulled out; the way it was left after you had been drug out of it.

“Sit. How tired are you?”

He pulls out a small keychain flashlight from his pants pocket.

“Tired.” You respond, huddling into yourself as the cold from the floor crept in. It was freezing outside, late November proving to be no joke compared to the windy October day you last saw the sun.

Quin gave you a dead stare, shinning the light into your eyes.

“Very funny. Do you feel like passing out at all? Your eyes are bloodshot.” He focused on each eye, temporarily blinding you before turning the flashlight off to put it back in his pocket. “Warm,” He mumbled, smoothing a finger from your chin to your throat. “A little too warm. Maybe got a fever being in that old room.”

“I’m just exhausted, I didn’t sleep… at all.” You didn’t have the energy to be angry, but the resentment and hate burrowing into you was making you more disgusted with him by the minute. Who was he to act worried and interested, after throwing you into a demented toy room for hours? “I couldn’t, being in that godforsaken room.”

“Hey, don’t take it out on the dolls, doll. I thought they’d keep you company.”

Your captor stood up, running his frozen hands along your jaw, smoothening your cheeks with his thumbs.

“Keep me company?” You remembered the firetruck, wanting to scream and cry until your body shook again. “I.. I don’t think I was alone, but there was something more than dolls in there. It moved, things were moved…” Tears rushed to your eyes, willing to fall faster after crying so recently. “ I can’t go back in there.”

You were firm in your words, looking up at him. You wouldn’t go back in there, you’d give yourself a heart attack before he managed to kill you.

“I don’t think you’re in any position to be making demands.” Quin bent back down to lay a hand on the wooden chair frame behind you, scanning your eyes.

You tried to lean back, not too obvious yet not allowing him to get any closer. You could feel the exhale of air through the mask’s nose hitting your forehead.

“I’d rather you kill me than put me back in there.” His chest was warm, from where you put a shaky hand to stop him. You didn’t have the courage to be firm, to do more than rest your palm there, as if you were feeling his heartbeat. It was gentle, a rhythmic beat that reminded you he was just as human as you were. A monster of a human.

“Really? You’re that scared, baby?” Quin smoothed the hair above your ear, resting his hand on your scalp. “Even after everything I made you see, more that you’re gonna see? You’re scared of some collectibles?”

You looked away, being the first to lose the staring contest he put in order.

“It’s different.” You murmured through hoarseness, trying to ignore the pit in your stomach after hearing another sappy pet name.

“Fine. Next time I’ll just make you bleed our next guest dry. Its about time you learned the family trade.”

He placed a kiss to your cheek through the mask, doing little to acknowledge the wince you gave when he moved forward so quickly. By now, maybe you should believe him when he says he’s not killing you quite yet... But after witnessing so many of his activities, you can’t help but imagine yourself in his victims’ place, waiting for a knife to drag itself across your stomach.

The thought made bile rise in your throat. You had so little to vomit away, and yet you still felt the desire to rid last night's meal. You couldn’t do it. The dolls were better. You couldn’t hurt someone like that. It was now, that you realized how different watching was compared to actually doing it. You couldn’t stomach watching him work with his gadgets and coroner tools, how could you comprehend actually doing anything with them?

The microwave began to churn alive after Quin’s button pressing, refrigerator door swinging to a close as the microwaves’ hum filled the damp, grainy room. Peeling wallpaper reminded you of an aging housewife, brown stains on the floor being a more comforting vision than looking up at your captor.

Even if you kept your eyes down, you had to contribute-- to be more than a lifeless doll here, lest you get thrown back in again to that pit of clown memorabilia.

“What did you do, while I was here?”

Your voice cracks dryly, attempting to clean the dirt under your nails as you stare down.

“Do you really want to know?” You could hear the smile through his words. “you've got such a weak stomach,” He waited for you to protest, continuing when you sat silently. “It wasn’t anything you would deem oh so “horrific,” really. Just some shopping at the hardware store, odds and ends.”

“Oh.” Is all you could muster. You continued to pick at your nails until the ending beep of the microwave resounded. Quin opened its door, grabbing the tips of the cardboard meal plate as it steamed. The smell of chicken and pasta filled the small, round dining room.

Your stomach churned, hungry and yet sick at the thought of eating another mushy, microwaved meal of little to no nutritional value.

“...Thanks, Quin.” You were mildly sarcastic, a habit you had forgotten to shove down in fear of punishment-- but you tried to shoot him a crooked, half-smile to cover it up.

“Nothing but the best for you, doll.” The clown pulled out an unmatching foldable chair with a lengthy screech, a plastic fork with muted ends already sitting in front of him at the table. He was so lean, uncharacteristically gangly at the hips and forearms, but wide in his shoulders and thighs. It tooke everything in you to not scratch at the floor boards to get out, to run away from a man so close that took pleasure in hurting people just like you.

You were going to comment on the fork, again still not understanding how a plastic utensil could cause enough damage to need to be shaved down, but Quin did something that struck you as even more unsettling.

“I think, maybe we should go back a few steps. It would do us some good, rebuild our trust.” He stirs around the mixture in the cardboard frozen meal box. Quin looks toward you while he covers the bits of broccoli and chicken in alfredo sauce. “ If I can trust you again to be good to me, there’d be no reason to return to the toy room you’re so afraid of.”

You bit your tongue, trying to choose your words wisely. He overstepped, but you shouldn’t be trying to stomp on his toes either-- save future you some punishment, you told yourself.

“Thats not necessary, I’ve… you know I just need some time to adjust, I’m kept here all day and--”

Quin suddenly patted at his lap in interruption, opening his legs and turning himself to face you.

“Come sit.”

You look at him incredilously, trying to garner a reaction out of that stoic, masked face.

“Did you hear anything I just said?”

“Just sit, you’re hungry, aren’t you.”

Gritting your teeth, you shoved down an insult, wanting to throw fast words on how the hell he knew what you wanted, who he thought he was to tell you what to do!

You sit there in defiance, utter disbelief and anger at how he watched you quietly, patiently stirring the pasta absentmindedly, the other tapping his leg twice again-- like he was calling a dog.

He puts both hands on his knees and looks as if he’s about to get up. His bottom nearly leaves the chair before you race out of yours, taking an uncomfortably close step to prevent him from moving any further. It would do no help in a fight, but you could at least make it as uncomfortable for him to try and hurt you if he wanted. You knew better now that when you were walking on cracking ice, to work faster than he did-- he was unlikely to carry out his undesired punishment that way.

Quin relaxes, putting his back against the fold-up chair with a squeak. His palms still grasp his knees looking up at you, an expectation in his body language.

“Well?”

You turn to the side, lining up with his thigh in preparation to sit. The idea of sucker punching his head is mouth-wateringly appealing. You almost consider it, despite the implications of what will come after; yet, the masked murderer is quicker than you, cutting off your plotting thoughts.

Cold hands grab at your hips, lurching you down and back against his chest, the full weight of your butt on his thigh. Immediately you hold your weight back up, hovering above his leg as you fear the oddly heated sensation of being against someone, close to another living being. It's been a long time since you felt skin on skin contact.

“Sit down, you're insulting me,” Quin complained with an effort of wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you back. “Acting as if I'm the plague. Just eat.”

You'd try and pull up again but his arm would not relent. It felt uncomfortably close with his leg shifting under you, the muffled sound of his breathing and speech under the puckered mask.

He didn't seem uncomfortable with your weight on his lap-- weirdly… more relaxed, oddly calm. Shoulders slumped, legs open in the usual masculine spreading fashion-- if you didn't know better, you'd say he was enjoying this.

Staring down at the steaming pasta, you swallow down your dissipating apetite. Quin picked up the small fork, looking away from you. Every millisecond that he took his gaze away, you fought back the urge to escape. He twisted thin noodles around the fork, stabbing a piece of broccoli along the way.

Letting go of you for just a moment Quin used his free hand to lift up the Venetian mask from his chin, pushing it just barely above his lips. He bent down gently to blow on the fork, flurries of steam pushing away from the utensil. You watched, mildly weirded out at his softness, feeling the heat of the meal container radiate toward you.

Quin, finished with his motherly theatrics, pushed the fork towards your mouth. You instinctively pulled your head back in a flinch.

It looked as if he was about to say something, jaw clenched in a grating fashion.

“...Thank you.” This sugarsweet, docile behavior you had to pretend to play was even harder than you were hoping.

You leaned forward, reaching your hand out to take the fork as you opened your mouth. But Quin didn’t let it go, allowing your fingers to rest on his as you tried to take it. The pasta was gently placed against your tongue, filling your mouth as you bit down.

The killer slowly, --too slowly you might add-- removed the fork from your lips. He was watching, his eyes and gentle, plum lips nearer than they ever had been before. You had never seen him up so close, only mere inches away as you cautiously chewed.

A thought ran across your mind, wondering if the food had been tampered with-- but at this point, did it matter? It likely wouldn’t be the first time, or the last.

Quin repeated the process, softly blowing on the food before feeding you with a tenderness that wasn’t mean for a captor and his captive.

You appreciated the silence, though; no bitingly silly remarks or sadistic smiles, just a softly domestic scene with the humming of the yellowed refridgerator.

The wrongness of having someone watch you eat, waiting till you’ve swallowed, making sure you’ve taken every bit off of the fork-- it was like being watched by a crowd, not showing immediate judgement and yet just as uncomfortable.

“You’ve got a little,” Quin hesitated, putting the fork back down in the frozen meal plate. His nimble hand came to hold under your chin, pulling your face closer to his. You could feel his breath now tickling your nose as he parted his lips in concentration. A wintry thumb swiped over the corner of your mouth, taking away stray sauce that hadn’t made it to your mouth.

“There; what a mess you make. Looks like you're trying to tease me, acting all helpless.”

You were ready to react, but a splotch of something dark resting on the clown’s open chest caught your eye. You thought it was a birthmark at first, one you had never noticed before-- but upon closer inspection, you saw it was uneven dots of blood, dried and smudged.

Your tongue went dry, breath getting caught in your throat as you recalled his words earlier. Was up to nothing, huh?

…How many people have died since you’ve been stuck alone in that room?

The fear of your impending death was rising in your throat in the form of acid, no longer hungry for anything-- merely sick and distraught. What was he saving for you, what were you going to become-- he may be spouting nonsensical “I love you” ‘s and such, but how could you believe it when so many have been killed in your stead?

Quin ignored the creased lines of horror on your face, the silence of your twitching frown as you kept your gaze on his soiled neck.

“Alright, now open wide.” Quin brushes your cheek with one hand, the other holding another forkful of pasta and chicken.

Your lips shake, finding it hard to keep your mouth anything but clamped shut as you remember the foul sights, the smells of the rest of this warehouse-- how could you be so stupid, thinking maybe you’d find one way to get this all to stop, a daydream of freedom from this dank hellhole.

You’d better start getting used to saying ‘I love you.’

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acphengene · 2 months ago

Text

Chapter 1 - It’s her

₊ ⁺ pairing: Jay x reader

₊ ⁺ genre: fantasy, fluff, angst, found family, brotherly love, death of family, loss, heartbreak, swearing, smut

₊ ⁺ word count: 7.6k

₊ ⁺ note: this is my baby… the amount of brainstorming - rewrites and hours I’ve put into this chapter over the last few months is something else. I really hope you love it as much as I do

₊ ⁺ Introductions ₊ ⁺ Chapter one ₊ ⁺ Chapter two

You had always loved to travel. Today was no different. You slid down the soft material your seat was covered in and closed the window cover to block out the blazing sun from scolding your skin.

The usual travels you embarked on were for relaxation or fun, this, as fun as it might end up being, was for the better of your kingdom.

When your older brother had left The Kingdom of Night, he had not only left you and your father behind. He had left your people, and because of that he had also left you the crown.

You couldn’t help the sigh that escaped your lungs, you had always been ‘just’ a princess, but now it said crown in front of it, and that single word came with a shit load of responsibilities.

Which meant training of your powers, and learning of foreign policies and the history of all kingdoms. Because of that you were on board a plane, soon to enroll in the ‘University of Heirs’.

Despite the name it wasn’t only the heirs of each kingdom that attended, which was your luck. Two of your three best friends were currently enrolled in the prestigious school that was located in The Kingdom of Day.

Sunoo was a siren from The Water Kingdom, with beauty, brains and a voice who could make even the stone giants from Fire cry. He studied medicine and marine biology and hoped that the plants only his people could get beneath the waves, would change the face of the medicine most used on land.

Jungwon was a Night fae studying gastronomy. Always passionate, always kind, and with a serious addiction and fascination of mixing everything with chocolate. However, his experiments didn’t always end well. The two of you had grown up side by side, as his father had been a chef in the royal castle since before you were even born.

The last one was Niki, even though he did not attend the school he still called Day home, at least until his profession would whisk him off to the next far away land. He was a dancer, with charisma and an almost dangerous appearance very similar to the black panther he could shape shift into. You and Jungwon had met him in the forest behind the castle when you were little and the three of you had been together ever since.

You smiled a little by the thought of your friends, before shooting them all a text telling them you were officially on your way. They had all been ecstatic when you’d informed them of your official acceptance to ‘UoH’.

In front of you stood a glass of sparkling light wine, one you quickly drowned before finally calling your brother. As per usual he didn’t pick up.

“Hey I just wanted to let you know we’ll be taking off soon. Can’t wait to see you” you said before hanging up.

Despite your brother having earned the title; ‘the lost prince of Night’, he wasn't really lost. No, Jake had left to go do… Well if you were being honest you didnt really know. But he would get to live a normal existence as of now.

The two of you had always been close, two halves of one whole, born no more than a few minutes apart. So it had felt a little like a betrayal when he had left to live in the cold and white tundras of The Winter Kingdom.

He was, just like your friends, now enrolled in UoH, with three best friends of his own, or brothers as he liked to call them. You had no idea exactly what he was studying, he had always been vague about that, but you guessed it didn’t really matter in the end, as long as he was happy.

The plane started its motors and off you were, all you could do now was hope that everything would work out in the end.

As you’d touched down you were quick to find your bags, you had decided to travel without any kind of security, hopeful you wouldn’t draw too much attention to yourself. It was possible most of the time, as long as you hid your eyes behind sunglasses.

They looked much like the night sky, dark black with small specks of grey, they were a physical manifestation of your bloodline, of where you belonged. Despite having tried every colored contact out there, it was impossible to mask them. It seemed that ordinary fae magic couldn’t keep the magic of a royal at bay. But that wasn’t really a surprise.

Jake had sent you a message somewhere along your journey, telling you that he would be there to pick you up and take you to the apartment your father had secured for you off campus. As far as you knew it wasn’t one of the complexes that hosted most of the heirs, which made it a lot more bearable.

Your hidden eyes searched for his dark messy hair, but instead all they found was what looked like a thousand black and silver balloons, and a few bouquets of flowers. In the midst of it stood your brother, surrounded by your best friends.

Sunoo threw his bouquet into Jake's arms, startling him, and sprinted towards you. You let out a high-pitched scream and ran to his arms. A second later Jungwon was there as well. And as you looked towards your last bestie, you saw him hand what you assumed to be sparkling wine to your brother who now had all your presents in his arms.

Niki’s walk was slow and elegant, and he had a feline smirk painted on his lips. The last few steps he lept as the cat he was, just before wrapping his long arms around the three of you. Kissing the top of your head. “We’ve missed you” he whispered.

The little heart in your chest was beating so fast it felt like it would beat out of your chest by the pure joy you felt of finally having them all so close. It had been so long since you were all together, too long.

Sunoo was the first to look at you, his tears had already spilled from the prison that was his dark blue eyes. “You’re a bitch for leaving us for that long” He said as he willed his voice to not break.

Jungwon chuckled at the statement. You laid your hand on the siren's cheek. “I know, but I’m here now” you whispered. He nodded as a response, just before Niki pulled him closer to his chest.

“He’s right you know, you literally have the ability to shadow jump, yet you still choose to stay away from us most of the time. It’s not fair” Niki had a twinkle in his eye as he spoke and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“I hope you don’t mind that I brought them,” Jake said with a smile before he bit his lip. Niki was by his side quickly, helping him get rid of everything they had thrown at him, so that he too could welcome you.

Jake grabbed your wrist and pulled you into a bone crushing hug, and for the first time in a long time, you felt whole. You smiled into his chest. “I’ve missed you” you whispered into his shirt. He hummed in response.

After a little while you pulled away and grabbed his face. He laughed a little with his eyes closed. You took him in, he looked older.

“Look at me Jake” you said with a little laugh.

His smile disappeared with an instant, and you felt your blood go cold. You removed your hands from his cheeks and lifted the sunglasses that until now had hid your eyes. In a much harsher tone you repeated; “Look. At. Me”.

You punctuated each word, and it was said with a dominance that was well known between royals and their subject. You saw how both Jungwon and Niki squirmed by the command beside you. Saw how there was a hint of gratefulness that the words weren’t directed at them.

And as he opened his eyes your previously beating and happy heart stopped. Where his eyes had previously mirrored your own, were now only filled by the dull grey that were typically known in Winter.

Jake sighed. “It’s just contacts Y/N, don’t make such a big deal out of it”

In an instant you grabbed his chin with your thumb and index finger as you crept closer to him, turning his head from side to side as you inspected them.

“That’s not contacts” you whispered.

The two of you weren’t identical in any way, but the one thing you had always shared had been your eyes. It seemed however that Jake didn’t share the sentiment, and had chosen to replace them. His nickname suddenly made sense however, the one thing that identified him as a prince had been erased.

You let out a huff of air as you finally let go of him. “I’m not done discussing this with you”. He chuckled nervously, as he turned towards Niki, most likely to gain some kind of sympathy from him. The two had always shared a brotherly like bond. Niki being the younger brother none of you had ever gotten.

“You brought this upon yourself my guy, don’t look to me for help” he crossed his arms over his chest, one of which you quickly hit with a flat hand. He only sent you an annoyed look, as to say; seriously?

“This is getting a little boring, so let’s instead discuss what we should be drinking tonight” Jungwon said, as he snaked his arm around yours, suddenly dragging you along, not giving two shits if any of the other ones came along.

When you were out of earshot he whispered: “I know I should’ve warned you, but Niki swore us to secrecy”

“That’s just because he wants to be present whenever I kick Jake’s ass,” you whispered back to your best friend, just before you turned your head to look towards the three other men. “It’s creepy, it’s almost like he’s no longer my brother…”

Jungwon squeezed your hand in a reassuring manner. “Let’s just get you home, and we’ll fill you in on everything”

“Hey, where the hell is Jake?” Heeseung yelled from the bathroom. The cracked door had resulted in the smell of his perfume traveling out of the room as an insane amount of steam escaped with it.

The heir to The Winter Kingdom liked the feel of the scalding water on his skin despite the fact that he could survive days if not weeks in the snow. One of the many perks that came with his title.

His younger brother was currently laying on the large couch in the living room. His arms and legs were spread out, and at this moment he looked more similar to a sea star than the ‘Ice Prince’ he was.

“He said something about picking up his sister” He yelled back. The sudden start of the conversation kicked him out of the hangover he had been nursing all day, and for the first time in hours he actually sat up.

In the kitchen not far from him stood yet another young man, Jongseong, or as his friends called him; Jay. He was currently occupied with cutting up different kinds of vegetables all the while he laughed at his best friend. Sunghoon held up a finger, as to say; hold that thought. As he fought his body's need to throw up.

Jay shook his head. “I can’t believe you’re still hungover,” he said laughing. Sunghoon sent him a glare in response.

“It’s not my fault, blame the star shots my love” he said as he once again fell back onto the couch.

By the mere mention of the beverage, Jay shuddered. “Gods, why would you drink that shit? You always get so miserable, plus it taste like unicorn piss”

“It’s because he thinks they give him the ability to dance whenever he drinks them,” Heeseung said as he appeared in the room, wearing nothing more than a towel, as he tried to dry his white hair with another. “And that being said I’ve actually been told unicorn piss isn’t that bad”

He sent a pointed look towards the suffering man just as a groan escaped him. The two older men responded by laughing.

“Don’t worry baby, you always have an incredible talent for shaking ass” Jay commented.

“Have anyone ever told you two, you’re disgusting?” Heesung said as he threw himself on the other end of the couch.

“I think you might've told us once or twice”. Jay said as he sent a wink his way.

“Always defending my honor” Sunghoon said before he crawled towards his brother, dropping his head in his lap.

“Gods you need a shower, brother” the look on Heeseungs face was nothing short of disgust.

The three of them shared an apartment with Jake, and the connection they all shared was nothing short of brotherly love.

Jay walked over with a bottle of wine in hand. “I’m guessing you don’t want any of this?” he said as he poured the red liquid into two glasses. Heeseung took one with a sigh and a thanks. Jay had always had a talent of foreseeing whatever those closest to him needed, and when Heeseung was tired he typically craved red wine.

Sunghoon lifted his head from the couch and narrowed his eyes to look at what bottle he held in his hands. “Please give it to me”

“Cheers to yet another night guys” Jay said as he gave him one of the glasses. Sunghoon drowned it quickly, hopeful that it would cure him in an instant. “Fuck that’s good”

Heeseung sipped to his glass, as Jay turned to fetch one for both him and Jake, he couldn’t be far behind.

Jay had been raised like the prince he was, always polite, always well dressed, rarely caught unguarded. He had always had a signature smirk painted on his lips whenever he was out in public, and his eyes bore the darkness and secrets from his kingdom; The Afterlife.

He grew up without many friends and the spirits didn’t always feel like keeping him company, so instead he had spent time with his parents. He had travelled with the pair whenever their duties had taken them beyond the grey mist that surrounded what would end up being the resting place for all souls.

Despite what most people thought, he was capable of love, of laughter and of heartbreak.

When he was no older than 8, he and his parents had travelled to Winter, to collect the soul of the late king of the Kingdom. During the festivities of saying goodbye to both a father and grandfather, Jay had run into the two princes.

They were burdened by grief, but instead of teasing them for their tears, he had instead explained the orb or pure blue light his father had collected to bring within their borders. He had asked them if they had a message for the man they had lost, because if they did he would be happy to deliver it once he stood on solid ground again.

The three had been inseparable ever since, always so connected to one another that their parents teased that they could speak into each other's minds. They had sworn nothing would ever come between them.

Jay and Sunghoon were however kindering spirits, they liked to joke that they had probably been lovers in another life, hence the disgustingly sweet pet names they always had called each other. They were a unit, and one was rarely without the other.

Shortly after Heeseung had accepted his position at ‘UoH’ he had run into Jake at a coffee shop. The sunglasses indoors in the middle of a snowstorm called out to him, and after Jake stared into the beaming grey and blue orbs of the prince, he had felt comfortable enough to share the secret of what had happened to ‘The Lost Prince of Night’.

No longer than 3 weeks after Heeseung had left them to travel to Day, they had followed him. Not to enroll, no it hadn’t been their time yet, but to be near one another, and together they had all found an apartment.

Now they shared a home, and for some reason it worked perfectly despite them having four somewhat contradicting personalities.

As Jay returned to the living room the magic of their front door clicked open, and through it walked their dark haired friend. He gave them an almost sad smile.

“You owe me 30 gold leafs,” Jay said as he held out his hand to Heeseung.

“Fuck she clocked it that fast?” He asked as he got up to fetch Jay his well earned money. Heeseung was back in the living room, changed into the clothes of the night, gold leafs in hand, before the guys had even blinked.

Jake just nodded before receiving the glass Jay had just poured for him. “Yeah, I don’t even think it took her a full minute” He didn’t drink, he just swirled the liquid around, almost hypnotized by it.

After about a minute he looked up and saw his friends who all stared back at him. “Look, can we talk about something else?”

Heeseung slapped his brothers naked thigh, and said as he screamed out: “You can tell this dickhead that politics is an important subject to have, even though you’re not crown prince”

Sunghoon stuck his tongue out. “Don’t see why I would need to, it’s not like I’m ever gonna use it”

Jay got up once again and went to get a different bottle of wine, since Sunghoon had drowned his second glass efter Heeseungs comment. “Well if you think about it you could use it to get to The Summer Kingdom and seduce Beomgyu’s sister?”

He pointed towards him in response. “I like that!” Sunghoon said as he took the bottle of light wine out of his twin flames hand and cooled it down instantly.

“Look, if you want I can remove the veil from your eyes whenever you’re around her, that way she might not be as triggered by it” Jay said as he laid a hand on his friend's shoulder.

Jake just shook his head. “No, she’s already seen it, and I don’t really want people finding out.”

Heeseung shrugged. “Maybe she’s not really mad at you veiling your eyes, but more the fact that she has to step up as crown princess?”

Both Sunghoon and Jay sent him somewhat panicked looks, it had never really been something they all talked about. None of them had ever wanted Jake to explain his actions unless that was what he wanted. He himself had never brought it up.

“No way I’d ever take over for your brother, so don’t even think about stepping down” Sunghoon said in an effort to make light of the situation.

“If Hee didn’t want the throne, no one would ask you babes” Jay said before ruffling his hair.

“I get why that would make her mad, but she’s just always been more headstrong than me, so honestly I didn’t even think she’d mind. I mean she has her powers, and she’s so much like our father, whereas I… I just run when things get hard.”

His head was hanging low, as if finally admitting what he had always felt would somehow make him less of a male, less of a prince in his friends eyes.

Instead of judging, Jake's three brothers pulled him into an embrace.

In an apartment not far from the four princes, you too opened a bottle of wine, only to plop down on a pillow in the empty living space.

You sighed. “I’m never lifting a box ever again” Sunoo said as he threw himself next to you.

“I’m pretty sure it was my shadows that did most of the work” you said as you grinned and a shadow stroked your cheek lovingly.

“Plus we gave you all the light ones, so I don’t really think you have anything to complain about” Jungwon said as he put down the final box.

Instead of answering, Sunoo just rolled his eyes, as he held out his hand, just as Niki brought over one of the bottles of sparkling wine.

“So, how long have you known about Jake’s eyes and not told me?” You said after taking a few sips directly from the bottle.

The three men looked at each other, all with a similar expression; like the last thing they wanted was to speak. Instead of forcing them, you just waited patiently.

Niki was the first to respond, as he shrugged. “It’s been a few months, for a while I thought it was just the light, or that maybe the sparks of the grey and silver had taken over… that was until I actually talked to him for more than 2 second, and then he was forced to maintain eye contact with me”

Jungwon took over as Niki seemed to look for the right words. “We sought him out when it was made public that you were taking over as heir, I mean we’re at the same school after all, his disappearing act won't really work on us”

They both sipped at their bottle before looking at one another. “I wasn't exactly nice to him,” Jungwon finally said.

You couldn’t help but raise a brow at your best friend. He was known for being level headed, keeping cool even as things were tough, so him losing it, even if just a little, was everything but normal.

“Yeah, he said some stern words that’s for sure” Sunoo said as he picked at the dust stuck to his trousers.

You couldn’t help but chuckle. “I would’ve liked to see that”

Jungwon smiled a little. “Sorry we didn’t tape it for ya”

You sighed as your fingers found the label on the bottle, as much as you wanted some type of explanation as to why you found yourself in this mess, you knew they couldn’t give you one.

“Now” you said as you stood up and opened one of the boxes. “How about we get some of all my junk put in these cabinets, while you give me all the tea on those spoiled heirs I’m gonna spend most of my days with”

“Now you’re talking!” Sunoo said as he got a sudden rush of energy. He was by your side in a heartbeat.

“Okay, Jake’s powers have for obvious reasons not manifested yet” Sunoo said and the two of you did a dramatic eye roll together.

“Obviously not” you echoed as you pulled out a few wine glasses from the bubble plastic they’d been hidden away in.

“I’m pretty sure Sekura is currently in the top of the class” Jungwon said, as he inspected a vase for cracks.

“Yeah she’s incredible, someone pissed her off the other day and she started a full blown storm” Sunoo commented as he started pouring the wine into the glasses.

“Okay, so powerful but not in control then” You made a mental note of that.

“Heeseung and Yeonjun is currently on a shared second place” Sunoo tried not to look at you but couldn’t help it. It wasn’t that you hated Yeonjun, you just didn’t like how he had almost laid a claim on you since you were kids.

Your father of course loved the idea of a marriage between the two of you, especially now that you were heir, him not being crown prince only made the match between the two of you more perfect. He himself had used that pun once or twice.

Instead of commenting on it you just hummed and tried to seem like his rise in power didn’t piss you off immensly.

“Heeseung has as far as I’ve understood only shown his speed, but we’ve all figured there's something else lurking under the surface” He shrugged.

“Jay is third” Jungwon said, desperate to change the subject. "Although I’m pretty sure he has as much if not more power than his father”

“Jay is from The Afterlife, right?” You felt how the shadows almost reached out by the mention of his name.

They had always done that whenever the kingdom was mentioned. It had frightened most you grew up with. They saw it as a bad ownement, but they had always refused to explain why.

Sunoo nodded. “And he’s hot”

“Heeseung and Sunghoon too” Jungwon added.

You couldn’t help the laugh. It was something they had always been masters at, taking your mind off whatever might cloud it with negative thoughts or energy.

“Jay is kind, kinder than people give him credit for. But then again I don't think he lets anyone in. Sunghoon is… an acquired taste” Niki had decided to chime in. He didn’t know a lot about what happened at school, but he knew the elites.

You sent him an interested look, urging him to explain further.

He shrugged. “The two are rarely without the other, pretty sure Sunghoon only leaves Jay’s side if he’s hooking up with someone - plus they call each other every pet name under the sun. Not gonna lie it’s pretty fun to be around them”

Niki smiled, clearly thinking back on one or two interactions he had with the pair in the past.

“I could set you up with one of them if you’d like. Sunghoon owe me one after I let him see my answers for a test a few weeks ago”

“Fuck no!” Niki was quick to say.

You all laughed at his reaction. He was not alone in being protective over you. Jake and Jungwon was just like him, Sunoo on the other hand was like a demon on your shoulder, always urging you to do whatever might cause the most trouble.

“Sunghoon might not be an official heir, but he is powerful” Jungwon said as the laughter died down.

“Yeah, he’s like the talk of the grounds. People say his mate has to be someone extraordinary for him to be this in control of his powers. He didn’t only get his nickname ‘ice prince’ because of his cold heart ” Sunoo said with a shrug.

You couldn’t help the roll of your eyes. You had heard people speak of that so-called theory your whole adult life. When your powers had manifested everyone had been in awe. It had been generations since Night had a shadow jumper, even longer since one had the ability to talk to them, to see them as sentient beings.

It had been everyone's theory that it had to mean you were mated to someone powerful. Whoever that being was, they too would also gain an immense power almost overnight if you decided to join them by their side.

Every royal on the continent had dropped by or invited you to their galas whenever one was held. And every single one of them had made sure to introduce you to every nobel-being from their court, hopeful that a bond would snap between the two.

Nothing had come of it, all you remember from those days was a voice in your head, one that had seemed to follow you at every dinner og party since, you had never quiet figured out who it belonged to though. You did however have your theories.

“So people are throwing themselves at him and he’s entertaining it? Can’t say I don’t understand then”

Niki shrugged. “I’m pretty sure that’s not the reason. Apparently he had been the perfect prince up until a few decades ago, and then a switch flipped”

“Nothing breaks a being as bad as heartbreak” Sunoo sang, the sound of his voice was instantly calming the somewhat tense in your brow.

He smiled. “Sorry” he said as he started fidgeting with some paper.

“Never apologize for who you are” you said right before kissing his cheek.

The next morning Jake came knocking. After a long talk with the guys the night before he had decided he owed you a bit of an explanation as to why and how he had lost his eyes.

You opened the door for him, letting him in, and this time around his eyes were back to their normal glory of darkness and light.

“Hey” he said. His shoulders were drooping, and his usual confidence seemed to have disappeared as soon as he stepped through the threshold.

“What can I do for you?” You asked, the question seemed colder than you had intended it to.

“I actually wanted to talk, you know, explain myself” he said as he bit his bottom lip, he had always done that. And when he did he was either excited or nervous. This time it had to have been the latter.

You raised a brow in response before you moved into the room and threw yourself on the lounge chair the guys had help you build last night.

“I’ve never really apologized for leaving, for putting this burden on you. I know I should have discussed it with you beforehand, but it just seemed easier for me to just disappear” He had sat down on the couch across from you. His elbows were resting on his knees and his whole body seemed to reach out for you.

A small smile painted your lips, but it was easy to see the hurt displayed in your eyes. “You never left me any choice. I had to take over, I had to step up. If you would’ve just talked to me, we could’ve figured it out, we could’ve talked to father together”

You reached over the gap between you and took his hands in yours. The two twins of night, the moon and the stars as they had called you. He had managed to break decades worth of trust between the two of you with just one decision.

Jake shrugged, and squeezed your fingers. “My powers never came, and it felt like the land itself rejected me as heir, as if I wasn’t worthy to bare the title nor the crown after father. And then you got yours… And they were stronger than anyone had seen for generations. I know it wasn’t your fault, that you couldn’t help it, but it was the last straw, the final thing that broke my belief in myself. Why would the people rally behind me, when you were right there for the taking?”

“This is gonna sound harsh, but the land did reject you Jake, you were always running off to other kingdoms, always leaving especially after mom... The magic had nothing to stick to, no vessel to blossom in. It wasn’t because you weren’t worthy, it was just because you weren’t there. The crown is yours if you want it Jake, all you would need is just to spend some time back home”

He let go of you then as he leaned back into the cushions of the black couch. He smiled, and he somehow seemed lighter than just a moment ago.

“No, that would do more harm than good. And if I’m being completely honest, I kind of like living like this. Everything is so slowpaced and not really that serious, and I like Jake Sim, much more than I liked crownprince Jaehyun” he smiled, and this time it seemed genuin, so you returned it.

“Good, I’m glad. But just promise me that in the future, you’ll come talk to me, okay? No more secrets”

He reached out with his pinkie and grabbed a hold of yours, as the two of you had always done. And then you laughed, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like a part of you had healed.

“By the way” you said with a smirk. “What contacts are you using? I’ve never gotten any of them to actually work”

He poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “Oh wouldn’t you like to know”

You raised a brow at him and he chuckled in response. “It’s one of my friends… Jay, he can veil anything. It doesn’t really matter where you are, when it’s up it’s up”

Jake saw how your eyes widened as he spoke “yeah, he’s pretty darn strong”

“We’ll see who’s the strongest in a few days” You winked at your brother.

One bad thing about emptying all boxes while drunk on sparkling wine, is that nothing ends up where you intended it to.

You had rushed most of the morning trying desperately to find the little bottles of cream and serums you had gotten from a prince when you’d turned 200 a few years back.

It was your first day and you felt almost sick by the thought of all those princes and princesses under the same roof.

Of course you had all run into each other at every other gala held to celebrate whatever your parents had deemed to be important, but you had avoided most of them after the whole mate-ordeal.

But this, this was now your time to get to know people, to socialize and build alliances, not just for you, but for your people. It had previously been Jake’s job, so instead of getting to know these people you had just had fun with what some would call “the help”.

The school was grand, with cathedrals and corridors almost longer than the wings of the castle you had grown up in.

Every door opening were covers in gold emblems that represented each kingdom. There was nowhere, where the ceilings didn’t seem to stretch into the sky. Didn’t matter if you were on the ground or the first floor.

The beings of every kingdom scattered the halls and it seemed like the trend was that people stayed in the colors that represented their home.

You saw snow fox shifters in all white, summer fairies in light green, angels in light blue and the mermaids seemed like they had been dipped in liquid pearl.

Jungwon spotted you before your eyes found him and Sunoo in one of the many halls. He had you in a tight hug even before you were able to greet your two friends.

A genuine smile broke out on your lips as you returned it. “Thank you” you whispered before kissing his cheek.

Sunoo was like both you and Jungwon in all black, something that made almost everyone stop and stare, he however didn’t seem to mind. Instead he quickly returned every disgusted look people would send his way.

“Gotta let people know that I have a future queen in my life” had been his response when you had asked.

The pair had followed you to your first class, and you looked over the people in the room. The winter princes were the first to spot you. Both beautiful with their white hair and blue and grey eyes. Sunghoon sent you a smile, reassuring but still somehow curious.

Heeseung on the other hand gave you a nod. Respectful and royal, like the heir he was raised to be.

Yeonjun noticed you almost instantly and he left whatever conversation he was having with a dark angel, and walked straight towards you.

“It’s good to see you Y/N” a voice said behind you, and you quickly tore your attention from Yeonjun to greet whoever had sneaked up on you.

You met the tall figure of none other than prince Soobin. He smiled at you, dimples on full display. “Soobin” you said before embracing the royal.

Soobin was the youngest brother of King Jimin of The Water Kingdom. Jimin had always had a soft spot for you, both because of your love for Sunoo, but also because of the way people had fought over you. He too had been in a similar situation, not because of his powers, well that too, but mainly because of his beauty.

“Incoming” Soobin said before he let go of you.

“Y/N, hi… It’s good to see you” the red haired male bounced on the balls of his feet as he greeted you. The action seemed almost child-like.

Soobin rolled his eyes right before he put a hand on the small of your back. Startling you. Somewhere in the room you heard a growl.

“Let’s get you out of here before the fire spirit set’s fire to your hair, shall we?” Soobin sent you a sweet smile, completely ignoring the red prince before him.

He guided you past Yeonjun and you sent him a somewhat apologetic smile as he said: “Oh come on ‘Bin, you can’t still be mad at me because of that!” He laughed and it only grew louder when Soobin glared at him.

You sat down next to the siren prince. And somewhere in the back of your mind you heard that small voice repeat one word over and over again: “fuck”.

“So how did the training go?” Jake asked as he stuffed his mouth full of rice.

He looked between his three friends. Friends that were all uncharacteristically silent.

Sunghoon coughed as Heeseung hid his head in his hands.

Jay swallowed and said with a low voice: “your sister just shot to the first in the class” he send your brother a serious look, he tried to smile but failed.

Jake dropped his spoon into the bowl. “What, how?”

“Oh god Jakey, you could’ve told us she’s absolutely insane!” Sunghoon said before leaning back into his chair.

“Insanely powerful is what he means…” Heeseung said as he rubbed his temple. “If you thought it would be hard to keep the royals away from her before, god just you wait until they phone home and tell them what happened”

Jake sighed as he started stress eating. “Just tell me already”

“She’s new, so our teacher likes for people to demonstrate their talents, and you know she just stayed seated - everyone was so quiet, like so so quiet” Sunghoon said dramatically.

“And then some idiot decided to say, out loud I might add: that she clearly had no powers, that she was nothing more than a scammer” Heeseung said as the color drained from his face.

“Gods” Jake said as he shook his head.

“Yeah, and then the ground swallowed him. He literally got eaten by his own shadow, and a few seconds later he was catapulted out of the shadow the chandelier made on one of the walls” Jay said.

It was now Jake’s turn to hide his face in his hands. “Did she make them sentient?” He asked but his voice were muffled by his hands.

The spoons the three princes held in their hands dropped then, making a loud sound that made him remove his hand quickly. His friends all stared at him while they gaped.

“What. Do. You. MEAN?!” Sunghoon almost yelled in what sounded like dispair.

Jake rubbed the nape of his neck nervously. And as if on cue, a small shadow crept over his shoulder and looked between them all, right before bit slithered back to your outstretched hand.

You send them all a wicked smile. Heeseung stood up with a small ‘nope’ and left his lunch behind. Sunghoon stared into the thin air as if he would turn to stone if he met your eyes, and Jay sent you a look that was almost impossible to desipher. Gods he was beautiful.

Jungwon and Sunoo laughed at their reaction. You turned toward your friends and dropped the mischievous mask. The smile on your lips turned genuine and soft.

“That was mean” Sunoo said as he tried his best to hold in his laugh.

“Mean? That was absolute perfection” Jungwon’s laugh was contagious, and soon the three of you were almost rolling on the floor unable to take a normal breath.

When you finally got it back to normal Sunoo looked a little more serious. “Since Niki isn’t here I’ll be the bummer and ask; are you sure you didn’t do too much in there?”

You grabbed his hand. “I chose not to downplay my powers. And it might work for Jay, and I’m sure there’s other people in there that doesn’t show their full potential” you shrugged. “But I don’t wanna hold back, I’m already a little behind compared to the rest, and I don’t need them to think I’m completely useless”

Jungwon sent you a dimpled smile. “And what about your dear little friend, did you hear them again?”

Since you were very young, you’d heard a voice inside your head. It wasn’t your own monologue, it was more like a presence of someone else. Someone who would offer comfort and sweet words of encouragement when you needed it the most.

It had showed up shortly after your mother died, and you liked to think it was her looking out for you, as if not even death could keep her from being there for her daughter.

When you woke up this morning you had hoped to get words of encouragement maybe even a phantom hand to brush your cheek. “Yeah but all I got was ‘fuck’”

Sunoo raised a brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well how the hell would I know, it at least sounded like it. Literally repeated over and over for at least five minutes”

“Maybe dear old mom doesn’t think you taking over is the best idea?” Jungwon said teasingly.

“Oh she definitely would’ve hated every second of this” you said with a smirk as you picked the skin off a grape.

“Maybe she said something else?” Sunoo said, trying to sound reassuring. “I mean after all it is kind of muffled, the sound of her voice I mean”

You shrugged. “It doesn’t really matter, I mean maybe they just dropped something on their feet”

“So what are we doing to night?” You quickly asked to avoid sticking to the topic.

“I’ll see you at home guys” Jake said to both Sunghoon and Jay, he had afternoon classes, where as these two twin flames were lucky enough to have an early day.

When Sunghoon had asked Heeseung if he wanted to go home with them, he had mumbled something about putting out a fire in the library. Not that that made any kind of sense.

Sunghoon looked at Jay as they walked across campus, he had been quiet today. And usually a quiet Jay meant a hurting Jay.

He had learned it the hard way through the decades, but after almost two centuries he now knew if something was going on by the mere way he took a breath.

There was no need to bring it up, least at all when they were out in public, so instead he let his friend be as the two walked home in silence.

Jay had been there for him all the times he had cried and yelled, even when he wanted to claw his heart out of his chest with his bare hands. He owed him to be there for him, he wanted to be there for him.

“Jay…” Sunghoon said cautiously when they were outside the door of their apartment.

“Just open the damn door Hoon” he said with gritted teeth.

He obliged, and as soon as the lock had clicked open, Jay threw himself at the door and the second he was inside he released a nightmare of pictures.

What had a second ago been their entry way was now a cascade of flashing locations. Grey mist, was replaced with complete darkness, the darkness with the night sky, to be surrounded of a thousand bushes of moon light lillies.

Sunghoon tried to remember where the furniture was as they had disappeared when Jay had veiled what seemed like the entire world.

The Afterlife heir had thrown himself up a wall and was now clawing at his mind, his neck and his chest as he hyperventilated. Sunghoon could hear the frantic beating of his heart, and tried his best to get him to calm down.

“It’s okay, we’re home Jay, just breathe” he laid a hand on his friend's shoulder.

His face shot up to meet his best friends worried eyes. But instead of eyes all he saw was stars, thousand of thousand of stars. The world around them stilled to that exact picture as well. And the pair stood somewhere in the sky.

“Breathe” Sunghoon repeated as he himself took a deep breath. Jay mirrored him, and a few minutes later the stars disappeared, and they were once again back in their entry way, and the darkness of the heirs eyes were back once again.

“What’s going on?” He asked as he sat next to him on the floor.

Jay rubbed his face with his hands, as he took a shaking breath. “I’m so fucked Hoon, so fucking fucked”

He shot up, as if finally opening up made it impossible for him to sit still. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! Gods I’m so fucked!” He kicked the chair that stood closest by.

Sunghoon laughed a little, trying his best to ease the tension.

“It’s her…”

For a split second Jay thought Sunghoon moved as fast as his brother. Because before he knew it he stood up and were walking towards him.

“Who’s her…?” He was suddenly more serious than Jay had seen him in a long time.

“She’s … Y/N. It’s her…” he said.

For a second Sunghoon was certain the world had stopped spinning.

“WHAT?!” Sunghoon yelled so loud, that Jay was certain even the dead back home could hear him.

₊ ⁺ please comment, like and reblog if you like the story - it helps me so so much ₊ ⁺ please let me know what you think, if you have theories of both Jay and our sweet reader but also about the rest of the guys ₊ ⁺

₊ ⁺ let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list

⁺ taglist: @1-itsneverthatserious-1 @flawlessapollo6 @ijustwannareadstuff20 @azzy02 @zaycie

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sanjisleggy · 4 months ago

Text

the siren and the sun (portgas d. ace x reader) [pt5]

a/n: gong xi fa cai my fellow ace lovers, i have returned after more than 2 weeks of no new chapter, enjoy :D also this will contain my first attempt at something vaguely smutty and im trying my best so ahsjdhsahddgsjfhd

contents: fluff!! whitebeard pirates being a whole family :’D, some suggestive themes as i attempt to write smth seggsy

wc. 1.9k

wanna be on my taglist?

part 4 || part 6

the gentle rocking of the Moby Dick and the gentle streams of light filtering through your cabin blinds are what coax you awake the next morning.

blinking away the sleep in your eyes, it takes you a second to remember the events that occurred just hours ago when the sun had yet to rise and the moon stood high in its place. the memories are solidified as such–and not as mere dreams–when you feel a light stirring on top of your chest.

Ace mumbles something incoherent as he adjusts his head, still deep in slumber. his face rests on its side atop your chest as his firm arms lay on either side of your body with one hand interlocked with yours while the other stretches out and dangles over the edge of your bed. your free hand–the one not held clenched in his damp palm–is draped across his back, bent at the elbow just enough for the tips of your fingers to reach the base of his hair at the back of his neck. you drag your hand up further until his mildly sweaty, wavy hair is weaved in between your digits before you start scratching at his scalp gently.

he hums softly and shuffles a little but settles back into deep sleep with a faint smile stretching across his freckled face. taking a few quiet minutes to look at his peaceful self, a warmth swells up in your chest. you can’t quite remember the last time you’ve seen him so calm and relaxed, even as children he was always on-edge regardless of being awake or asleep.

a sudden light knocking snaps you out of your thoughts as your eyes dart over to the door of your cabin slowly swinging open just a crack.

“hey, (Y/N), you awake–” you recognise Marco’s voice before you see his face but once you do, you immediately catch how his eyes widen when he spots Ace sleeping on top of you. his mouth begins to form an ‘O’ shape but you cut him off before he can say anything embarrassing.

“leave!” your tongue tingles as you use your Devil Fruit ability, careful not to speak too loud in fear of waking the young man resting on your chest. as expected, your commander obeys without question and shuts your door but it doesn’t take long before you hear muffled shouts about how some people now owe him a lot of berry.

“guess we won’t have to break the news ourselves, huh?” Ace mutters as his eyes flutter awake. he grins when your eyes meet his and you can’t help but smile, too. “good morning, pretty,” he hums before inching forward to brush his lips against yours.

“g’morning,” you reply in the middle of the kiss as you feel your face heat up when it dawns on you that this really is happening. you are, in fact, in bed with your childhood love and he is, in fact, kissing you good morning.

you idly wonder if life could get any better than this and, for the following months, it does.

ii.

it doesn’t take long for you and Ace to become very comfortable as partners and the endless teasing from the division commanders and Pops himself doesn’t fluster you as much as you initially worried it would. it helps that aside from poking fun at the both of you, they wholeheartedly support your relationship and aren’t afraid to show it.

Marco was the one who suggested transferring you from the first division to the second–purely out of sheer coincidence–when it was announced that Ace would officially join that division.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” he’d said as he turned his head away to hide his teary eyes when you asked if he would miss you being his second-in-command.

“y’know i don’t have to change divisions just for Ace, right?” you teased while elbowing Marcoin the ribs in an attempt to get him to show you his face.

“well, we all know you want to,” he replied as he ruffled your hair, “and what kind of big brother would i be to stop you?”

Vista had been the one who taught Ace about the language of flowers which eventually led to you receiving a bouquet of one hundred and eight sunflowers. when you asked him what it meant, all he did was turn red, stutter incoherently before setting himself on fire.

“he’ll tell you whenever he’s ready!” was all Vista said with a hearty chuckle when you asked him for its meaning instead, knowing full well if you tried asking Ace again the entire ship might go down in flames.

Thatch was the one who prepared a twelve course meal just for the two of you after Ace offhandedly mentioned the anniversary of the day you first met Luffy and him was coming up soon.

“how’d you even remember that?” you’d asked incredulously, finding it hard sometimes to even recall the current day of the week, let remember a single date from so many years ago. in response, his face flushed red.

“i-i don’t know! i just do, okay?” he huffed as he crossed his arms over his chest and looked away, his freckled cheeks turning an even deeper shade of red when you started to laugh.

on the mentioned day itself, you and Ace exited your cabin for dinner only to find the ship was entirely empty except for Thatch and Izou–with the latter promptly whisking you away the moment he spotted you leaving your room.

after half an hour of waiting in the dining room by himself, wearing a suit that was definitely not his, Ace felt his jaw drop when he saw you enter as Izou shut the door behind you. a light layer of makeup was painted on your face, the amount just enough to accentuate your features without overshadowing your natural beauty.

when Ace’s eyes trailed down from your face to your body, he realised then it was the first time he’d ever seen you wearing a dress and it was perhaps the most beautiful dress he’d ever seen. although, if he were to be honest with himself, he wasn’t entirely sure if the clothing itself was beautiful or if it was because you had been the one wearing it.

that evening, for the first time in his life, Ace ate as slowly as possible, working his way through the different courses at a snail’s pace. the food was delicious but seeing your candle lit face smiling at him from across the table satiated a yearning deep in his heart.

later that night, after you’d long fallen asleep, Ace slipped out from your bed and found Thatch still up, prepping ingredients for the next day. to the older man’s surprise, Ace bowed deeply and thanked him for the meal and for putting a smile on your face that would be engraved into his memory for the rest of time. Thatch simply laughed and said it was no big deal, that he was happy to do it for the both of you.

Ace ended up staying up that night and you found him later in the morning, sleepily cutting vegetables in the kitchen by Thatch’s side.

iii.

over the months, you and Ace become a force to be reckoned with, making your mark on the seas in your sworn father’s name.

it doesn’t take long for the world to learn that the infamous super rookie Fire Fist Ace was now in Whitebeard’s second division and that wherever he showed up, one person would undoubtedly be by his side.

another Devil Fruit user, surely, the marine cadets would whisper amongst themselves as another charred ship docks at headquarters and out of it pours countless soldiers on stretchers. i hear it’s not Conqueror's Haki,” one would say to another, “it doesn’t matter how hard you try, as long as you hear the command, you can’t fight it.”

some would believe the rumours while others didn’t, steadfast in their belief that there’s no way the Command-Command Fruit still exists–not when the higher-ups insist it's been permanently destroyed. eventually, though, a handful of the sceptics would find themselves facing Fire Fist and his ally in the flesh and if they live to tell the tale, they’d return to their base and insist the Command-Command Fruit user truly is out there somewhere.

meanwhile, out on the open seas, you and Ace can’t care less about what the marines think of the two of you. all you care about are the little moments you share with him–like sitting in the front of his modified Striker as it speeds across the ocean while your hair catches the salty breeze; or the feeling of his soapy wet hair as you comb your fingers through it whenever you shower together, followed by the sound of his laugh after he shakes his hair dry just because he knows it annoys you.

your favourite moments with Ace are the quiet ones. the ones where you’re all alone and neither of you have anything to say but it doesn’t matter because the silence is so comfortable. you like when he lets his hands wander ever so carefully over your bare skin and underneath your clothes. his face always turns so red and yet he’ll stare into your eyes almost shamelessly, silently asking for permission to do more.

and then the quiet moments will turn not-so quiet as your soft huffs and moans fill the air while his fingers dance their way to places only meant for him to explore. sometimes you swear you can even hear the pounding of his Ace’s heart as he experiments with ways to elicit his favourite reactions from you–the ones where your breath hitches or your hips buck into his hand.

sometimes he’ll let you return the favour but more often than not he’ll insist he enjoys making you feel good more than anything.

on the nights he gives in to his desires, though, Ace makes noises almost unbecoming of a powerful young man like himself. he’ll hide his face behind his hands or bury it into your blankets, unable to bring himself to openly show his teary eyes and drooling lips until you gently coax him out of his embarrassment.

“it’s okay, pretty boy,” you’ll find yourself saying more often than not as you softly pry his large hands away from his flustered, sweaty face. “don’t hide from me, my love,” you’d coo and he’d choke back a moan, fighting the urge to cover his face again, baring it all for you and only you.

and after all is said and done, Ace will sneak food and drinks into your cabin even if you tell him you’re not hungry but you’ll eat and drink anyway because he stole them all for you. you’d thank him by peppering his freckled face in kisses and dragging him to the shower before he can succumb to his sleepiness. you’d clean each other while chatting under your breaths and laughing at each other’s jokes. then, you’ll go to sleep in each other’s arms and he’ll use your chest as his pillow just like he did the night before.

hours later, the sun will rise and you’ll wake up before Ace does, as you always do, and the day will continue just like it had done yesterday, feeling so similar yet so different at the same time.

the little life you’ve built around your family and Ace is good and you’ve never been happier.

but you soon learn that all good times must come to an inevitable end.

gen taglist: @irethepotato @i-reblog-fics-i-like @grierpilots @appalost @hyper-fic-ation @dressycobra7 @38lyra38 @chaseyui @paraparakiss @krooschl @teewon @olliesoxenfree @misstraffy @riftmage27 @aletch @somatchajade @kitsunechan707 @thesmolestsage @lunaizhere @saint-atlas @goldenpanda16

series taglist: @captainportgasdace @mitskisaveme @graveyardsweethearts @vaniiiavengeance @stuckinmymind22

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece x yn #op #op x reader #imagine #fanfic #portgas d ace #portgas d ace x reader #portgas ace x reader #portgas ace #fluff

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sister-lucifer · 1 year ago

Text

Genre: Smut

Summary: Tim is dazed and confused after wandering through these cursed woods for who knows how long, when he encounters a mysterious figure on the dark waters of the lake.

Content/Warnings: Male reader, frottage, oral sex, the story is from Tim’s POV, the siren is referred to with it/its pronouns, some mystery/horror/unsettling elements, the siren has a prehensile penis, masturbation, attempted/near drowning, underwater ejaculation, it’s left up to interpretation whether or not this actually happened or was just a hallucination, sort of hypnosis I guess? Not really sure what to call it but use of siren song powers

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out.

Feedback is encouraged and appreciated.

Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors.

Tim isn’t sure how long he’s been walking. It feels like the night has gone on forever, his boots caked in mud from hours of wandering without any vestige of an intended destination. He isn’t sure how long he’s been in these god forsaken woods at all. His frustration and anger have long since melted away to exhaustion, the endless trees silently mocking him as they watch him struggle to pull himself towards a freedom he cannot see. This entire plane of existence is a cruel, horridly sentient monster of phantasmagorical insanity built to break the minds of any who enter, and he can feel the cracks starting to grow throughout his tortured psyche like a starving parasite threatening to encompass him fully.

It feels like his body is rotting.

Like the muscle is sloughing off the bone with every move he makes, joints aching and falling apart as he forces himself to keep going. The night air is thick with the heat and humidity of the summer, threatening to suffocate him with every inhale. Sweat clings to his clothes and his body like a heavy blanket that only serves to weigh him down even more.

He’s not sure how much he has left in him.

Everything looks the same, nothing but trees in all directions for impossible distances. He hasn’t even seen another animal, no sign of life beyond the green. He’s starting to lose his vision, sight blurring and distorting in the kaleidoscope of leaves that the moonlight filters through.

Finally the burn in his legs forces him to come to a stop. His chest is heaving when he falls to his knees, desperately trying to catch his breath. He doesn’t have time to stop.

He’s still for only a second before the raging swill of his thoughts becomes far too loud for his comfort. They scream at him for his foolishness, for his stupidity in getting himself lost this badly, in walking right into the waiting maw of the stalking creature he’s been running from like a lobotomized rabbit to the wolf. Dammit, dammit, dammit.

The ringing in his ears gradually subsides as his breathing levels out. He pushes down his emotions in favor of keeping himself calm; panic will only doom him further. He has to stay in his right mind if he ever wants to get out of here.

Then, a sound pierces through his clouded mind like the sharpened point of a needle. A sound, finally, other than the noise of his boots on the grass and his heavy breathing.

Water.

The sound of water lapping at the shore.

He’s managed to wander his way to the lake.

He stands so quickly he nearly falls over, looking around as he discerns where the sound is coming from. He turns to his left, then to his right, ultimately deciding on the former. His walk quickly turns into a frantic sprint.

The noise gets louder, calling to him that he’s chosen the right direction. He runs faster. The green is starting to thin, he can see something getting closer, he is so damn close—

It takes everything in him not to collapse under the weight of his insurmountable relief when he emerges from the trees to be greeted with the reflection of the moon on the water.

He rushes to the shore, nearly tripping and tumbling down the bank as he makes a frantic dash for the lake. He stops at the edge, kneeling and pushing his hands beneath the surface, gasping softly when the cool water runs over his hands.

It’s real.

He’s not imagining this, it’s real.

A gravely but triumphant laugh bubbles up from his throat as he basks in his victory. Finally, finally he’s freed himself from the prison of trees, even if he hasn’t found his way back home. He cups the water in his hands and takes a drink, not caring to even consider how dirty the lake might be; that doesn’t matter nearly as much as the cool relief that washes over his dry throat. He splashes a bit of water on his face for good measure, soaking the front of his jacket and granting him some reprieve from the hot, muggy night air.

For a brief moment he debates taking a swim, but quickly shoots the idea down. The lake is vast and dark, he doesn’t trust it enough to let it engulf him entirely. Not to mention the idea of swimming with such a sore and exhausted body isn’t very appealing.

He looks up and around, thinking that surely there must be some way to cool off without taking the plunge. His eyes land on a wooden dock some ways away, not too far of a walk.

…That’ll work.

He makes his way over to the dock, stepping onto it cautiously to test its strength. It creaks a bit, but gives no real protest as he walks down its length, stopping to sit down at the end. He unlaces his boots and sets them at his side before stowing his socks away inside them. He rolls up the legs of his jeans before allowing his feet to dangle over the side, the water reaching up to soothe his sore calves. He lets his head fall back when he sighs with relief, finally allowing himself to relax. He moves to lay back on the dock, folding his hands over his stomach and taking a deep breath.

Finally, a fucking break.

No, it doesn’t solve all his problems—he’s still stuck here, after all—but Goddamn is it nice to finally be able to breathe.

For just a moment, everything is peaceful. Tim even lets himself forget the hell he’s trapped in at present, focusing instead on the feeling of the water gently cooling his legs. It’s nostalgic, almost—reminds him of when he used to sneak out to the pond behind his house to drink with his high school friends. It’s a fleeting comfort, but an appreciated one nonetheless.

He lays still there until the frantic thudding of his heart slowly reduces itself to a steady beating, until the ringing in his ears quiets fully and he breathe without a struggle. He feels much lighter now that there’s not so much strain on his muscles and joints. He even lets himself close his eyes, just for a moment, the stars shining on the backs of his lids before fading into the dark.

He debates going to sleep right here. It’s not a good idea, no, but it’s a tempting one, and much more appealing than sleeping in the dirt. He’s too open here, though, too exposed; he couldn’t hide in a timely manner if the need were the arise. No, no sleep yet, no matter how badly he needs it. Just rest.

Just enough rest for him to keep going.

That’s all he can safely grant himself at the moment.

And for now, that’s okay.

Just this brief peace is enough after the ordeal he’s been put through.

He focuses in on his breathing, counting his breaths as he inhales and exhales slowly, keeping the rhythm steady as he takes in the gentle quiet of the surrounding world that, for once, has gone still, relieving him of the heavy burden of survival…

…Only for the sudden sound of something splashing into the lake to jolt him out of his calm.

His eyes shoot open and he sits up so quick he gets a bit lightheaded. He looks around, frantically trying to find the source of the sound and preparing to grab his boots and make a run for it. He stops when he catches sight of…something that has settled on top of a rock in the middle of the lake.

He pauses, squinting through the fog that has now settled over the water.

Was the fog always there?

Could it have moved in that fast?

Damn, how long has he even been here?

He pushes the questions away for now, too focused on trying to discern what the hell he’s looking at.

Then, as if it can feel his eyes, the figure move. Tim can’t see it very well, but he too can feel it staring back just before it dives into the water.

“…What in the fuck?” he mumbles, unable to conjure any other response.

What the hell was that thing?

Couldn’t have been a fish, but it didn’t look like any waterfowl or turtle he’d seen. A gator, maybe? No, unlikely—too fast and too damn tall to be a gator.

He looks down at his feet, his legs still submerged in the water.

He really should pull them back out. No telling what that thing was.

He should leave all together, in all honesty, he needs to keep moving…

…So why won’t he?

He swallows hard, eyes cast down at his still legs. He kicks them in the water a bit, but can’t bring himself to pull them back out. Surely by now he should have enough willpower to pull himself away from this…

He winces a bit as the ringing in his ears suddenly returns with an acute fervor.

No, wait…not ringing. Some other high pitched noise, something more melodic that starts to melt into the ambience.

…Music?

No, it can’t be, but he isn’t able to come up with any other name for it, especially with the fog that’s suddenly thickening in his mind, clouding his thoughts like the mist on the water clouds his vision. He rubs his eyes and looks out over the water again. The figure, that creature is gone, and the rock it was perching on is rapidly fading away into the fog.

This is bad. He has to get out of here, right now, before something terrible—

He gasps, nearly jumping out of his skin as something splashes in the water a short distance to his left. He looks over quickly, but all he sees is the ripples on the surface left behind by something diving down into the lake.

There’s no doubt about it now.

Something is in the lake, and it’s getting closer.

He tries to make his body move, to get up out of the water and onto the dock, but he’s frozen. The more he tries, the more his mind screams at him to do something, the louder the music gets. echoing in his brain and drowning out any voice of reason. The sound is clearer now, a high pitched vocalization carrying a tune that feels so familiar, like something out of his childhood dripping with a viscous nostalgia that clogs his throat and sticks to the back of his teeth.

Something splashes again, but with the operatic voice forcing its way into his mind he can’t discern which direction it was. All he knows is it was closer.

Tim scans the water frantically, but the fog has covered the everything. He can hardly see ten feet in front of him. It feels like the cloudy mist is closing in on him with a purpose, with intent, like this was planned.

His heart nearly stops when he looks down at his feet, only to see a glowing pair of eyes looking back at him from just beneath the water.

He flinches, but can’t bring himself to pull back. He’s frozen, like something is holding him in place and forcing him to keep eye contact with this creature. The music is the only thing he can hear. The noise of the crickets and the water and the wind are completely gone, completely overtake by the singing.

Tim watches, completely mesmerized as the creature slowly rises, breaching the water’s surface with wildly unnatural grace. Tim’s eyes widen in shock and awe as more and more of the creature’s form is revealed, its body revealed to him inch by inch, allowing him to take it in.

The creatures skin is an unsettling greenish-grey, with pulsating gills that gasp softly on the sides of its torso and neck. Its impossibly long hair, tangled with leafy plants, creates a curtain around its face that hides its visage in shadows and cascades down its shoulders and into the water, as if it goes on forever. Tim’s eyes trail downward towards where the legs should be, but he finds none. Instead, the creatures body fades into iridescent scales that reflect the moonlight in a kaleidoscope of colors that swirl in his brown eyes. Anything beyond the top half is hidden by the dark water, but he can imagine what those scales become below the surface.

He should be running.

He should’ve been far, far away by now.

He’s not as afraid as he should be.

Why isn’t he afraid?

He doesn’t have time consider the question before the echo of the singing starts to quiet down. It doesn’t go away, no, but it’s morphing into something else…

Tim watches as the creature swims closer, webbed hands reaching out to grasp his thighs with an unexpected gentleness. He sucks in a breath at the creature’s cold touch, the water on its palms soaking through his rolled up jeans. He realizes now that it’s closer that it’s humming, the soft sound buzzing in its throat with the same tune as the echo of the singing before it.

The humming is far more soothing than it has any right to be. Tim should be fighting this thing off, pushing it away as it leans in to hum right into his ear, its scent of lake water and fresh plants filling his nose, but he can’t. He just can’t.

The creature’s skin is cool and soft against his own, wetting his cheek with the water clinging to its hair and face. Its chest brushes his for a moment, and he shudders, though not with disgust. His mind is swimming, completely melted into a useless sludge that refuses to form a thought. He knows he shouldbe terrified right now, he should be running for his life, but it’s getting harder and harder to articulate why.

He breaths deeply, inhaling the creature’s earthy scent as its ghostly voice seeps into the deepest recesses of his brain.

Oh, God…

That feels good.

He can feel the creature, the siren slowly stripping him of his defenses, peeling the armor off of his carefully guarded psyche piece by piece, and he doesn’t know how to stop it. He’s not sure he wants to stop it. The sensation of his will being broken down, chipped away at by a skilled hand with a chisel of forged steel that leaves no room for argument; it’s almost comforting.

Tim has spent so long fighting…

…Why shouldn’t he just give in this once?

The thought rattles around his skull and echoes in such a way that he’s aware it wasn’t entirely his idea, but he doesn’t care. It’s a beautiful epiphany.

His vision is starting to blur. Most of his senses, in fact, are dulling at what should be an alarming rate. The only thing left in tact, maybe even amplified, is his ability to feel.

The siren’s touch is intoxicating.

He’s starting to lose himself.

Tim shudders as something warm and wet slides over his neck, moving in a manner that is far too articulated. The siren pulls back, licking its lips, and for a moment Tim thinks he can see it mouth the word ‘delicious.’

The siren leans in again, this time for a slow kiss on the lips. Tim is stunned at the gesture, but can’t stop himself from kissing back. It’s almost a subconscious action, a base instinct activated by the siren song buzzing in his head.

The kiss is far from brief, but it doesn’t last nearly long enough to satisfy Tim. He leans forward to try and follow the siren as it pulls away, but it pushes him back with a gentle hand and a cheeky grin. It playfully wags a finger, silently scolding him with only a look from those piercing eyes.

The siren starts to move lower, and for a moment Tim is afraid it’s about to dive back into the lake, never to be seen again, but instead it stops once it’s at eye level with his groin. Tim sucks in a breath, which only makes the siren’s grin grow wider. Tim catches a split second glance of the shiny teeth that are kept behind its upturned lips.

The siren’s webbed hands slide inward from where they rest on Tim’s thighs, lazily meandering to the buckle of his belt. The siren’s humming doesn’t cease for even a moment as its nimble fingers slip his belt from the buckle and then from the loops of his jeans with an unnatural grace. It sets the belt to the side on the dock, right next to his boots, making it clear that Tim won’t be needing it anymore.

Tim’s breath hitches when the siren pulls his zipper down, moving slowly but with intent. It’s teasing him, he realizes in a fleeting moment of clarity, making him wait for whatever it is it knows he wants. His eyes trail down as the siren tugs his jeans down just a bit, enough to expose his half hard cock as it pushes against his boxers. He didn’t even realized how turned on he was.

Tim bites his lip as the siren’s agile tongue unfurls from its mouth to lick over the bulge in his boxers. He shivers, barely biting back a moan. He opens his mouth as if to speak, but no words come; there’s only a brief stammer before his lips close again, the eyes of the siren drawing him into silent submission. It hasn’t looked away from his face this entire time, refusing to release his gaze. It holds eye contact even as it leans in again, this time latching onto Tim’s hardening bulge with its lips and suckling it through the fabric of his boxers.

This time Tim can’t stop the noise that falls from his mouth, a choked sound of pleasure that would surely be humiliating if he had any sense left. Right now all he can think about is how badly he wants more.

The siren’s hands move again, upwards this time, towards the waistband of his boxers. It hooks its claws beneath the fabric and pulls downward slowly, just enough to release Tim’s now throbbing, needy erection from its confines. He sighs with relief at the feeling. He didn’t realize until now how badly he needed that.

The siren wastes no time wrapping its tongue around Tim’s length, and this time there’s no stopping the shuddering moan that crawls up his throat. The siren’s tongue is impossibly long, moving with complete control as though it were another limb; it leaves no spot of Tim’s cock untouched, coating every bump and vein with the siren’s cool, thick saliva. Tim’s thighs tremble as he watches the creature pleasure him shamelessly, its tongue coiling around his twitching member and sliding up and down the entirety of his length with intent.

The siren has stopped humming, unable to do so with its mouth occupied, but its song still echoes in the trees around them, keeping Tim docile and needy.

Hesitantly he reaches up, his hand shaking like a leaf in the wind as he moves it towards the siren. For just a moment a look of intrigue flashes in the creature’s eyes, but it quickly morphs into smug satisfaction as Tim’s fingers find themselves nestled into the siren’s hair.

The siren’s tongue retracts suddenly. Tim’s eyes widen as a question begins to form in his mind as to why, but it’s promptly stamped out when the siren wraps its lips around his cock and sinks its mouth down on him without hesitation. Tim nearly screams, crying out in shock and pleasure before choking on his own voice. The gills on the siren’s neck flex and breathe as his cock is pushed down its slick, invitingly warm throat. The cavity welcomes him happily, as though it was molded to fit his cock perfectly.

Tim’s fingers twitch as his grip tightens on the siren’s hair, silently begging for more. The creature complies, running its tongue up and down his length without so much as coming up for air. It uses every part its mouth and throat to stimulate his length with a sharp focus.

One of the siren’s hands slides off of its resting place on Tim’s thigh. It trails down his leg before leaving his body completely, dipping down into the water. Tim follows it with his eyes curiously, watching as the siren reaches down to lightly rub at a spot on the front of its tail. Tim quirks a brow, but quickly realizes what’s happening as the scales part to reveal a fleshy slit, a sheath from which what Tim can only assume is some kind of inhuman cock slides out. It’s visibly slick, almost slimy, and moves much like the siren’s tongue. He can feel the creature let out a soft noise around his cock as it wraps its hand around its length. It’s pleasuring itself, Tim thinks, pleasuring itself to him.

The siren’s free hand grasps onto his jacket for balance, keeping it upright as it floats in the water. It’s found a steady rhythm in the way it bobs its head up and down on Tim’s length, slowly pulling back and pushing forward just as the water laps at the shore in a lazy but constant manner.

Tim’s head falls back as a sudden wave of pleasure washes over him, making his entire body shiver with chills. He wouldn’t be able to take much more of this.

As if sensing his impending release, the siren’s pace increases. It doesn’t become vigorous or messy, only faster, swifter and even more calculated. The siren seems hyper aware of every move it makes, every muscle it flexes in its mouth and throat to make sure Tim never feels less than the utmost sense of bliss.

Tim can’t hold back his voice anymore. The soft mewls and desperate moans spill from his lips like a waterfall of debauchery that only seems to fuel the siren’s passion. Tim can’t see it with his head thrown back, but he can hear the splashing of the water getting louder and faster as the siren pumps its own cock with more fervor.

Tim’s back arches, pushing his cock into the siren’s mouth. The creature takes him so deeply its nose brushes his stomach, but it makes it seem so effortless. It knows exactly what it’s doing, and it’s working far too well. Tim doesn’t have much longer.

“I’m…I-I’m about to—“ he stammers, struggling to get the words out or even put together a coherent sentence.

The warning is a trigger for the siren. It pauses suddenly, processing the words for only a moment before it pulls off of Tim’s cock so quickly it almost hurts. Tim jumps and gasps, but doesn’t have even a split second to react before the siren grabs onto his shoulders and pulls him down into the water with it.

He thrashes in the creature’s hold, but the siren’s tail wraps around his ankles and squeezes tightly. He tries to cry out, but his efforts are punished with a mouthful of lake water that firmly halts any attempt at screaming. The lake around them is nothing more but a dark, merciless void of water without any sign of life. The only light is the dim shine of the moon that pierces the surface of the water and the glowing eyes of the siren.

Tim pushes against the creature’s hold, but it doesn’t budge. It leans in for another kiss, a rougher one that Tim fights this time, but not for long.

It’s an odd sensation, the feeling of air being forcefully pumped into his lungs from the siren’s mouth, but it lets him breathe. He can’t complain about that.

In the next instant the siren’s cock has wrapped around Tim’s, picking up right where it had left off on the dock. Little time was lost, and before Tim knows it he’s already nearing dangerously close to his release once more. He doesn’t dare pull aware from the siren’s lips to warn it, though. Surely it knows.

Just as he’d figured the siren’s length is slimy, almost tentacle like, sticking to Tim’s own cock as it writhes in coils around it. It’s like nothing he’s ever felt before, making him whimper into the kiss with a need so great it’s overwhelming. The siren isn’t immune to the pleasure either; its gills and scales ripple with its impending climax.

The siren wraps its arms around Tim, gripping at his hair and the back of his jacket as it holds him in place. It’s so desperate to keep him against it.

Tim cries out into the kiss one last time before his body tenses, his climax hitting him like a truck as his cock twitches and spurts into the water. The siren lets out an odd noise, almost like a dolphin’s chitter before it follows suit, its length pulsing around Tim’s before releasing as well, the iridescent liquid hovering in the water before fading away into the darkness below them.

The siren’s cock quickly retracts, unwrapping from Tim’s softening length and pulling back into its sheath. It’s as if it were never there, the parted scales moving back to hide the slit once again.

The siren slowly pulls away, looking down at Tim with an odd expression. It’s not quite a smile, but it carries a sense of self satisfaction and mischief.

Tim expects to be let go, even kicking his legs a bit to loosen the grip the siren’s tail has on them, but the hold only tightens. Tim kicks again, trying to pull away, but this only earns him more restraint yet again. The siren pulls him into a deadly hug, slotting his body against its own and wrapping itself around Tim.

Suddenly its touch is no longer soft and welcoming. Its claws dig onto Tim’s back and shoulders through his jacket, which only serves to amplify his panic. The siren squeezes him, forcing the gifted air out of his lungs. He can only watch it escape to the surface as bubbles, unable to retrieve it.

His thrashing increases tenfold, but he’s tiring fast. The lack of air combined with his exhaustion and now the siren’s humming in his ear once again is disorienting him. He needs to fight, but his body is rapidly losing the will to do so. He’s only a man, and a man has limits.

He resists the urge to gasp as water starts to leak into his mouth. He’s losing strength by the second, not only from his body straining but also from the siren’s song draining his energy. His panic turns to pure terror as the black spots start to fill his vision.

The siren won’t let go.

He can’t fight anymore.

This was a trap.

This was all a trap.

He’s going to die here.

No, no, no—

The water is filling his lungs rapidly now as his fear overrides his rationality. He’s screaming as much as he can beneath the surface of the lake, using the last of his strength to fight, but he knows it’s pointless. It’s only bringing more water in. His vision is darkening fast, and soon the little sliver of moonlight he had is gone. All he can do is listen to the sound of the siren’s humming, but then that is starting to fade out.

No, no, no, no!

Please, God, no…

But God doesn’t come to help, and the siren’s song is barely audible as Tim’s body stills and goes limp.

This is it.

He’s sinking into something dark, now, something beyond his consciousness. It’s an indescribable feeling, but an absolute one, one that speaks of eternity and a horrible permanency.

For a moment he’s aware of his own fate, his own death…

…And then he’s coughing up water onto the sand, the bright morning sun burning his eyes.

He turns over into his side, getting onto his hands and knees as he forcefully hacks up the lake water in his lungs.

The fresh air is a godsend, quickly pushing the water out and taking its place. Tim can finally take a deep breath without drowning.

He’s back on dry land, and alive…

…but how?

He’s still dizzy, he doesn’t dare stand up yet, but he does look around in confusion. The sun has finally risen, that much is obvious; it’s warm and bright on his face, almost jarringly so. He can even hear birds chirping in the trees above him. The woods have suddenly come to life, but what feels like only an hour ago it was completely devoid of anything living.

Did all of that…really happen?

He has no idea.

He looks down at himself and realizes he’s still missing his shoes, socks, and belt. His jeans are still rolled up to his knees, and his clothes and hair are completely soaked, as evidenced by the water that drips down his forehead, legs and hands. The zipper of his pants is still down, exposing the black fabric of his boxers.

His missing clothes are nowhere to be found next to him on the shore.

Slowly his eyes trail down the lake to the dock. He squints as he looks closely, searching for the proof that that thing was real…

…And there they are. His boots, socks still rolled up inside, and his belt, sitting at the edge of the dock.

Right where he’d left them.

He stumbles to his bare feet, trudging down to the dock to retrieve his things. His boots and socks are shockingly dry, but that’s certainly not a bad thing. It’s a small comfort that he more than deserves.

He slips them back on, they looks down at his belt. For some reason, he hesitates to pick it up. He makes himself lean down to grab it, though, and takes a moment to inspect the leather in his hands.

It’s untouched. No sign of damage or wear and tear at all.

He sighs as he zips his jeans back up and pulls the belt through the loops, fastening it back in place around his waist.

He’s going to chock this up to this goddamned forest screwing with him. He has to if he wants to keep his mind from breaking in two. It’s the safest, least insane explanation he can give to himself. It’s the only thing he’s prepared to hear.

The ache in his legs returns as a dull thrum as he resigns himself to continuing his journey. It’s painful to leave behind the solace of the lake, to walk away from the soft sound of the water, but with the day’s light he’ll surely be able to find his way out of here.

He takes in a deep breath, internally psyching himself up before he dives back into the endless trees.

Only, this time, they don’t seem all that endless.

Almost instantly the sound of grass beneath Tim’s boots turns into the crunching of a rocky path. He looks down in confusion, eyes landing on beige, rocky dirt that definitely isn’t a natural formation.

The trail.

He’s found his way back to the trail.

His eyes widen as he follows the path into the trees as far as his eyes can see.

Finally, his endless effort is being rewarded.

He eagerly starts onto the trail, resisting the urge to run until he collapses. He has time, he reminds himself. The trail is a loop; he’ll get back home sooner or later.

Finally, he’s free from the terror of these woods. Whatever entity that was keeping him trapped has released him, and he’s not going to question it.

When he gets home he’ll flop down onto his bed, not even considering changing out of his filthy clothes before he does so. He’ll stare up at the ceiling with teary eyes as he thinks about how happy he is to be back home, back where it’s safe and comfortable.

Inevitably his thoughts will wander back to the creature he encountered, or perhaps imagined; it’s not exactly something one easily forgets, after all.

But for now, he’s going home.

And that’s all that matters.

mdni & reblog banners by cafekitsune

#marble hornets #masky #tim wright #masky x reader #tim wright x reader #male reader #siren reader #masky smut #marble hornets x reader #marble hornets smut #horror #slenderverse #monster reader #slenderman #the operator #tim masky

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ghcstao3 · 1 year ago

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another mermay post 🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️ hehehehehe

short part two of siren!ghost x sailor!soap

In the darkness of the cave, with nothing but the bioluminescent something speckling the damp walls to illuminate the space, Soap isn’t sure how much time has passed since Ghost’s departure.

All Soap knows is that he’s cold, wet, and hungry, and has no idea how long he’s been left in this cave—and if there’s any way out.

He doesn’t venture far, not with what little visibility he has, but he feels along the slimy, algae-coated walls for any hidden crevice, any opening, any alcove. When he’s unsuccessful in that regard, a dares to inch toward the water, peering into its dark, murky depths, and wondering just how deep it goes. How deep underwater he is, in this little pocket of air that will most certainly run out.

And if it’s so deep that he couldn’t make it back up to the surface on his own.

Soap is curled up against one side of the cave when Ghost reappears, hauling fish, oysters, and tattered, sodden clothing of which Soap could very well guess the origins.

Ghost nudges everything as far up the stone floor as he can without having to push himself out of the water, but Soap never moves to accept. Fear still encases every one of his senses, even if his life had been spared. Even if Ghost said he wouldn’t kill him.

“You can’t keep me here, you know. Not forever,” Soap declares shakily, wincing at the echo of his words. Ghost just stares at him, bobbing gently in the abyss of water, those amber eyes now two pitch black holes boring into Soap.

“I can’t even… how would I even cook and eat the fish? I’ll starve if I don’t first run out of air,” Soap continues.

Ghost watches Soap for another long, silent moment. There isn’t enough light for Soap to place his expression, but his lack of reply is worrying enough.

“I won’t let that happen,” Ghost eventually says. There’s decisiveness to his answer, but in the echoey confines of the cavern, Soap swears there’s a slight waver in confidence. Like Ghost hadn’t thought this completely through, despite the cocksure way he had acted up until this moment.

“I’ll need sunlight,” Soap argues weakly. “And to be dry.”

Ghost outwardly falters. Soap can imagine a plethora of thoughts and emotions crossing the siren’s face, all obscured in the dim lighting. Soap waits and waits as silence only stretches again for what are only minutes, but feel like hours.

“Then I’ll find somewhere new,” states Ghost, before sinking back into the water with that same air of mystery as he had the first time.

Soap sighs, careful to fill his lungs minimally, lest he suffocate.

Well, he supposes—maybe wringing out the old clothes and laying them out could at least make for a somewhat more comfortable place to die, and the oysters might be enough to tie him over as to not make his death nearly as miserable.

Maybe he shouldn’t have argued with Ghost in the rowboat. Maybe he should have pretended to be lured in by the female sirens’ song and be put to death far quicker than whatever torture this is, that Ghost has planned.

Dejectedly, Soap squeezes out what excess water he can from the fabric, bunches it up in a pile and lays down on the makeshift pillow. The constant drip, drip, drip makes it impossible to sleep, so instead he just shuts his eyes and listens to the sounds of water lapping the stone floor, waiting for the swish and ripple of a disturbance to mark Ghost’s return—if there ever would be one in time.

#simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #soapghost #ghostsoap #ghost x soap #ghoap #alternate universe #writing

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ginnsbaker · 2 years ago

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Bulletproof (6/10)

Part Summary: It's three months after the attack on the compound and you lost your invincibility against bullets.

Chapter word count: 2.6k+ | Tags: Light Angst, Still UST, Still gay

Ship: Wanda Maximoff x Gender Neutral Reader

Next Part | Series Masterlist

The sound of the doorbell at “Café Lumière” reverberates around the room, your heart reacting before your head can even register it. It's the softest of sounds, but it pulls you like a siren's song. Every fiber of your being is acutely aware of that door, with both trepidation and hope hinging on its every swing.

Steam curls up from the frothing milk, whispering past your fingertips as they work on a delicate latte art. Your focus is unwavering, yet as the door chimes again, your heart skips. You risk a glance, your hope suspended for that split second, only to crash back down when it's not her.

Louisa's eyes, which have been watching you mischievously for some time now, find yours.

“Clock's ticking,” she teases, nodding toward the ornate clock hanging precariously on the wall. “Not 3pm yet.”

You feign confusion, but your playful smirk gives you away. “What are you going on about?”

She grins knowingly. “Your weekly muse isn't due for another... oh, ten minutes or so?”

An exaggerated sigh escapes your lips, the warm notes of roasted beans surrounding you like a comforting embrace.

“I'm not waiting for her, you know,” you say, though your voice lacks conviction.

Louisa smirks and pats your shoulder, “Sure, sure. Just give it time. She's never missed a Thursday, has she?”

As you're about to come up with a clever retort, a sharp sting on your finger draws your attention. You wince, looking down to see a thin, red line forming across your finger. Tearing the receipt from the register to hand to the awaiting customer, you’re slightly taken aback at how much the cut bleeds.

“Everything alright?” the customer asks, noticing the blood.

"Yeah, just a small paper cut," you dismiss, trying to downplay it. Grabbing a napkin, you press it against the cut, soaking up the crimson liquid.

Louisa's sharp eyes don't miss a beat. "Careful there. Those can be nasty," she comments, retrieving the first-aid kit from under the counter.

Louisa holds out a bandage, but you shake your head, not wanting to make a fuss over something so minor. “Really, I'm good,” you assure her.

A few seconds later, you open the napkin to check the cut. To your surprise, the skin seems perfectly whole, as if it had never been broken in the first place. You flex your finger, the earlier sting now a distant memory. “See? I'm fine,” you declare, shrugging.

Louisa tilts her head, narrowing her eyes in astonishment. “That healed incredibly fast. You sure you're okay?”

You chuckle, deciding to make light of the situation. “What can I say? Maybe I have superpowers.”

A soft clearing of the throat interrupts the moment. The customer, who you hadn't realized was keenly observing the entire exchange, raises an eyebrow. “Can I get some napkins, please?”

Flustered, you quickly hand a bunch over. “Of course, sorry about that.”

Louisa grins at you mischievously as the customer leaves, “Superpowers, huh? That's a new one.”

The doorbell rings out, pulling your attention instantly. You lift your gaze, hope surging momentarily, only to see the same customer making her way out. The door gently shuts behind them, the anticipation that had built up inside you deflating.

Louisa, noticing the brief flicker of disappointment in your eyes, nudges you playfully. “Don't look so down,” she says, her tone light and teasing. “She’ll be here. You know how punctual she is. Maybe she's just running a bit late today.”

You give a half-hearted chuckle. “Yeah, maybe.”

“I wonder though why she never gives her name,” Louisa muses.

“Hm?”

“You know, for the cup,” she clarifies.

You shrug. “Some people love their privacy, I guess.”

Hours seem to stretch endlessly, the weight of the clock's hands growing heavier with each passing minute. The crowd in the café starts to thin as evening nears. Although the store is open 24 hours a day, seven days a week, your shift only lasts until 8. And in the midst of the dwindling crowd, one spot remains unclaimed—the corner seat by the window, the one she always chooses.

She is the sole reason you continue working here despite your persistent restlessness. Pouring coffee for hundreds of customers daily never truly satisfies you, even when some tip generously. There's an inexplicable nagging feeling, suggesting this isn't where you belong or what you should be doing.

Yet, what anchors you between the register and the espresso machine is the girl who comes in every Thursday, late in the afternoon, always punctually, sometimes a few minutes early. It's disconcerting and exhilarating, this sudden shift of your universe tilting on its axis. You've never been one to believe in love at first sight or fated connections, but there’s something in the way she holds herself, something in her gaze that tugs at strings you didn’t even know existed.

But even if you can write the sweetest song or the most evocative poem about every titillating thing about her, it’s just a crush.

A crush that will lead to nothing. Not because you've attempted to ask her out or because she's already spoken for.

It's because your very existence is shrouded in uncertainty.

The past few months have been a jumble of rehab appointments, therapy sessions, and sleepless nights trying to piece together fragments of memories that always seem just out of reach. Surviving that near-fatal crash was a miracle in itself, but the loss of your past—it took away a part of who you were. Or who you're supposed to be.

Every day, you grapple with an identity you don’t recognize, yearning for some semblance of the person you once were. A glance at the reflection in the coffee machine shows a face still unfamiliar. Eyes that hold stories you can’t read, a curve of a smile that feels out of place. When people share anecdotes from their past or talk about family and childhood, all you can offer is a nod, a practiced smile, and a tightness in your chest that never truly fades.

And how could you possibly burden her with this emptiness?

The small apartment you return to every evening, given by a private charity, is filled with borrowed things and a life that doesn't truly feel like yours. They said you had no family, no one waiting or weeping for your recovery. Your recovery was overseen by faceless benefactors who, for some reason, deemed you worthy of a second chance. Yet, every evening as you unlock your door, you wonder if you truly deserved it.

The beautiful woman who steps into the coffee shop every Thursday, with her air of confidence and those captivating eyes, deserves more than what you currently are. More than this fractured self, teetering on the edge of self-discovery and despair.

What could you possibly offer her? Nights filled with stories of... nothingness? Days shadowed by the fear of not knowing who stares back at you in the mirror? She deserves someone who is rooted in memories, with stories to tell. Not this fragmented existence you live.

Perhaps it's safer this way, to admire her from a distance, to let her remain this source of hope and inspiration. A lighthouse guiding you through the stormiest nights. If you ever manage to find yourself again, then maybe, you'd take that chance.

Glancing at the clock again, it's 7:45 PM. Still no sign of her.

Dejectedly, you remove your apron and prepare to leave.

Wanda Maximoff blends into the bustling streets, the hood of her jacket pulled low over her face and her boots echoing a muffled cadence on the pavement. Dressed in tight denim and a nondescript hooded jacket, she hardly resembled one of the most powerful Avengers.

She mumbles a silent curse under her breath, glancing at her watch. She's late—later than she's ever been—and she hates it. Thursdays at the cafe are her only remaining connection to you.

She can see the cafe now, its warm light spilling out onto the street. She pushes the door and her eyes immediately scan the room, searching for that familiar face behind the counter. The disguise continues to work; to everyone, she’s just another customer. She doesn't draw the same attention here as she does in New York.

It’s North Carolina after all, and the town they put you in cares more about art than superheroes.

Louisa's attempt at nonchalance is commendable but slightly betrayed by the quick tightening of her lips and the slight flutter in her eyes. “Good evening,” she begins, voice as steady as she can manage. “Can I get you the usual today?”

Wanda's gaze, sharp and unyielding, remains locked on Louisa's face. “Where's Y/N?” she asks tersely.

“I'm sorry, ma'am, but I can't share information about our staff's schedules.”

She pauses, letting the words settle before adding, “If you're looking to see Y/N, perhaps you can drop by tomorrow between 2 pm and 8 pm.”

“Oh,” Wanda mutters softly.

Vision, in his human disguise, comes up behind her. “Wanda, we should go,” he murmurs, attempting discretion, but Louisa catches his words nonetheless.

Wanda hesitates, her posture rigid. “I needed to see them, Vis,” her voice is laced with a quiet desperation, a yearning for something—or someone—lost.

“I know,” he replies softly. “But they aren’t here. And we can always go back tomorrow.”

“I just have a feeling,” Wanda says. “Maybe this time, they’ll—”

“You’ve had that feeling for weeks now, but nothing has changed.”

They've lowered their voices to whispers, forcing Louisa to strain her ears to catch the exchange between the two. Vision soon catches on to Louisa's subtle eavesdropping. Their conversation abruptly stops, and Wanda, a bit lost, looks up at him for an explanation. Vision subtly nods toward Louisa, signaling her presence.

Clearing his throat, Vision steps forward, deciding to divert attention. “A hibiscus tea, please,” he says.

Louisa, embarrassed at being indirectly called out, fumbles slightly before regaining her composure. “Of course. Name for the cup?”

“Victor,” Vision replies smoothly. With a nod, Louisa gets to work, while Vision takes a few steps to the side with Wanda, resuming their conversation in even lower tones.

Louisa sneaks occasional glances while pretending to be engrossed in her work. The two stand slightly apart, their conversation seeming both intimate and tense. Wanda's fingers fidget, wringing her hands, her lips moving quickly. Vision responds with a calming gesture, fingers grazing her forearm.

The steamer hisses as Louisa finishes the hibiscus tea, her curiosity deepening.

Setting the cup on the counter, she clears her throat. “Order for Victor!”

No reaction.

With a little more force, she calls again, “Hibiscus tea for Victor!”

Again, no response.

The cafe grows impatient, a soft buzz of conversation fills the air, and a few customers shoot curious glances at the duo.

“Victor!” Louisa exclaims, this time with a touch of impatience.

At this, Vision finally turns, the gentle hum of their conversation breaking. He approaches the counter, his blue eyes apologetic. “I'm sorry,” he says, taking the cup from her hands. “Thank you, Louisa.”

Louisa simply nods, her gaze flitting between the pair. As they head towards the exit, she can't help but wonder about the nature of their relationship with you and what has them so concerned.

Three months ago

“You can’t do this to them.”

Wanda's voice crackles with anger and a hint of desperation, her collected demeanor fraying at the edges. The holographic projections of the globe, pinpointing potential locations and glimpses of Y/N's impending new life, bathe Wanda's face in a cold blue light, each flicker taunting her with the reality of your imminent departure.

Flashbacks flicker behind Wanda's eyes, pulling her into that harrowing moment. She feels you in her arms again, your life seeping away between her fingers. She's surrounded by dust-covered streets, crumbling buildings, and the deafening silence after the explosion. Your blood, vibrant and so, so red, pooling at the ground beneath you, staining Wanda’s shoes. She's paralyzed, every second stretching into an eternity, every breath a labor.

She was so slow, so clouded by fear. Why didn't she act faster? Why didn't she see the signs? Could she have saved you?

It was Steve's voice that brought her back to reality. “Wanda! We need to move!” She barely registered the panic in his voice, the way he swiftly and gently took you from her, laying you on a makeshift stretcher.

Every moment after that feels like an agonizing irony to Wanda. She knows grief and loss intimately, but this... this is an entirely different kind of pain. The trauma of watching you battle death is only overshadowed by the realization that while you might physically be here, mentally, the person who risked their life for her twice has disappeared.

In the quiet spaces of her heart, she acknowledges a truth she's been running from: she's spent so long building walls, so long pushing away the vulnerability that came with connecting deeply with someone, out of fear. Fear of loss, of pain, of being too raw and open. With you, those walls had started to crumble, brick by brick, but not fast enough.

She wishes she could go back, to relive those moments with the knowledge she has now.

“You can't do this to them,” she murmurs again, the words more for herself than anyone else.

Steve stands across from her, hands on the table, his posture rigid yet his face betraying a deep sadness. “Wanda, it's not about what I want or what you want. It's protocol.”

Wanda's face contorts with anger, her voice rising, “Protocol? Y/N isn't some object to be managed! They have rights, feelings, memories—”

“Which they don't even remember!” Steve interjects, his rarely-seen frustration surfacing on this particular occasion.

“You can’t just... toss them into the world like they're yesterday's news, Steve,” Wanda hisses with barely-contained anger. They remain the lone figures in the meeting room after the team unanimously voted to craft a new identity for you, placing you in a secluded town, untouched by global news, let alone the cosmic battles waged galaxies away.

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose. “Wanda, it’s not about 'disposing' anyone. The protocol is clear. If a super loses their powers, they reintegrate. Y/N can't live in the compound because they no longer belong in this world of chaos and danger.”

“Because they're powerless?” Wanda’s eyes blaze. “Or because they're no longer of any use to the cause?”

“It’s not like that and you know it,” Steve says, stepping closer to Wanda and meeting her gaze. “Y/N has lost their memory, they don’t remember any of this—any of us. Keeping them here would only confuse and possibly hurt them.”

“They just sacrificed everything for me. And now you want to push them aside because it's convenient?”

“No,” Steve replies, “Because they’ve done enough. They’ve given enough. Don’t you think they’ve earned the right to a peaceful life? The privilege of normalcy?”

Her green eyes shimmer with unshed tears. “All I’m saying, Steve, is that they should have the choice. And right now, we’re taking that away from them.”

“Your girlfriend showed up last night.”

You whip your head around to look at Louisa so quickly, it feels like you might've given yourself whiplash.

“Come again?”

Louisa grins, tying her apron around her waist with a knowing smirk. “You heard me. Your Thursday regular? Gorgeous, and those piercing green eyes? She came by looking for you after you left.”

Your eyes widen, heart racing. “That doesn’t mean she’s my... girlfriend.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Louisa teases, leaning in closer. “She seemed pretty keen on finding you. Even asked for you by name. Speaking of which... guess who found out her name?”

Your mouth opens in surprise. “Y-You did?”

Louisa nods, a smirk on her lips. “Wanda. Her name’s Wanda.”

“Wanda,” you repeat, savoring the name as it slips from your lips.

Putting a name to such an unforgettable face changes everything. But like so many things that have recently unfolded, you just don’t know the significance of it yet.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x you #wanda maximoff #unbetad #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff fanfiction #captain america civil war #the avengers #vision

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ubtendo · 8 months ago

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Tell👏us👏about👏your👏oc👏

Oh- uh..

well lemme just quickly-

Here

AND THE CROWD GOES- oh the crowd's going home🧍‍♀️

Hnn, ok so I haven't drawn anything this whole week basically, so I'm sorry if this looks messy, she's really hard for me to draw since I don't usually draw any characters with wings😶‍🌫️

But apart from the bulletpoints on the post, I guess I don't have much more to add but to expand the explanation a bit

So this is Branwen (welsh name, from what my two or so hour research for a proper name told me, it means "white-" or "blessed raven" and even tho she's not a raven, it's close enough and sounds really cool), and shes an Icebound OC

Basically, in my head I imagine, once the party gets to the icebear cave and try to find the pawprints in the snow, its kinda hard to track, she would be sitting on top of the cave unnoticed and sort of nonchalant mention that yes, there is a fisher town in that direction. The party is startled by her just standing there, and at first they wouldn't recognise her as a harpy (she covers herself with her wings, it would look like a big white coat) but Barnabos would start to freak out because in his head harpies would be like sirens and sirens are like witches of the sea so she is like a witch to him.

She basically follows the group after this, saying she only wants to make sure, should they die, that none of the animals could get to the bodys because she would make use of them. The party goes "well we're five we could kill you now, you couldn't beat us" and she just grabs Skrimm by the face with her talons, flies way up and tells him she could drop him, he wouldn't survive the fall, and she would do it to everyone else as well, should she feel like it. She lets him down fine, but everyone is very cautious around her now (it's only in the beginning they'll warm up to each other it's fineee)

Yeah she's kind of a jerk, but there are way too many sweet ocs, I gotta balance things out here/j

#oof look at me going of about an oc again #i mainly see people make ocs like a playable character and thats super cool as well #but...harpy...🥺🥺#i wish they were an official race and not just an enemy #icebound #icebound oc #legends of avantris #loa #loa oc #dnd #oc #original character #harpy oc #my art #digital art #also the little doodle of the owl i just made for fun- you could count that as omen i guess

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chaosduckies · 20 days ago

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Sleeping With Sirens (2)

I planned to make this wayyyy earlier but life happened. But it's here now! Enjoy some small fearplay and angst with my mer au

Word Count: 5.2k

CW: mentions of death, mentions of being eaten alive

If you had told me the day before that I would be willingly traveling with a leviathan, the scariest thing in the ocean, I probably wouldn’t have believed you in the slightest.

And now there was a huge sea monster waiting for me to catch up with them. As reluctant as I was about all of this, the promise of maybe finding my parents kept what little bravery I had intact so I wouldn’t swim away in fear. Not that I could escape this leviathan if I had tried.

It had only been about an hour since he had started guiding me to wherever he was thinking of. Whether it was just another hunting ground or not I just had to trust him. I could maybe make it across the trench, but there’s no guarantee that my parents made it across. They might just be waiting for me somewhere out here. If only we hadn’t been driven away from our home. Maybe things would’ve ended up differently. I wouldn’t be between life and death. Literally, or almost died countless times.

The leviathan never talked. When I grew tired of swimming and couldn’t keep up with him anymore he’d stop moving before he caught me in his hand that was trailing just behind. I think the only reason I kept going was because I was terrified of making him impatient. Who knew what he would do to me? The worst was being eaten alive, but I think being abandoned and left out in the open was just as bad. Hiding obviously didn’t work with what happened before. So I was just a snack to pretty much any and everything that lived here.

Even after traveling for a full straight hour, it was still open ocean and the kelp forests. My stomach grumbled from the lack of food, but I was too terrified to mention it. If I could even speak with my mouth practically glued together. This entire situation was terrifying.

The water grew darker, the clouds covering up the sun so the water didn’t look like its usual nice shade of pink. There was nowhere to hide so I could sleep, no sign of stopping to take a well-deserved break on my end, and there was no sign of life. At least not yet. My newfound fear of the dark crept up inside me as I very subtly inched closer to the leviathan. They didn’t seem to notice, and if they did they didn’t seem to care too much. A sigh of relief escaped me as I held my arms close and watched as the same scenery of kelp and loose gravel and sand passed by.

We continued for another half hour I would guess. Darkness settling in. I could still see a little bit out, but not too much. Better than the trenches at least. What I wasn’t expecting was for the leviathan to start glowing with a very dim but somehow vivid purple light. I yawned, tired from swimming nearly all day. It wasn’t surprising that the leviathan could keep on going though. They hadn’t even so much as complained either. Perks of probably being the biggest predator out here I guess. He had nothing to worry about. Though, there were faint scars along his arms and side. Meaning that there were some things out there that could hurt him. That just terrified me more. What could be capable of that?

I hadn’t realized I was trailing behind until I noticed the hand they placed behind me coming closer. I cringed at the sight of the claws before trying to swim up more, but I was too exhausted to keep pushing myself. My eyes threatened to close shut every time I blinked, slowly dozing off.

With a quiet wince, I forced myself to keep going, but it wasn’t long before my body was too exhausted to move anymore. As soon as I stopped his hand seemed to scoop me up, and that just terrified me even more. Was he going to yell at me for not being able to keep up? Well, yelling was the least of my worries. I was literally in his hand. In his complete mercy. Sure I was the second he laid eyes on me, but this was different. Making him angry or annoyed now was probably not in my best interest. Or life.

I held my breath as soon as he stopped and glared back. I didn’t dare make eye contact as my body trembled in fear. Breathing was all of a sudden a trivial task as I felt his eyes bore into me. In my mind all I could do was beg and hope that nothing would happen. Though, a very big part of me doubted it.

The leviathan hummed quietly before peering out in the distance to scan the area. Nothing but kelp, sand, and gravel. He let out an annoyed huff, his fingers slightly curling around my tiny frame. It took everything in me not to yelp or swim off. I’m sure I would be in even more trouble then. It felt like everything around me was getting closer as my chest grew tighter and tighter, cringing away every time his fingers would flinch. I didn’t like this at all. The fear and anxiousness were not a good combo.

They didn’t say a word before my world quite literally became a blur. I couldn’t react in time before being closed in a fist. It felt suffocating. Trapped. The first thought that came to my mind was that I was dead. So dead. It was stupid of me for even believe that they wouldn’t kill me. My heart rang in my ears as I felt the water rush. All of a sudden I just felt dizzy and too weak to attempt to escape. My eyes felt heavy and tired from the day that I’d had that it was practically an impossible challenge to keep them open for any longer.

Out of fear, I pushed against their fingers to try and get out, tears pricking the edges of my eyes. I didn’t want to die like this. How could I just leave my parents? They might still be out there looking for me just like I was looking for them! After surviving countless attacks and hiding and being as brave as I could this was how I was going to die?

I pushed against their fingers one last time, never noticing the gentle and soft grip they had around me before opening their hand. I took a deep breath for what seemed like the first time and coughed, now sitting in their palm. I was… alive? Intact?

My head perked up at the sight of a broken ship that was covered in algae, tiny pieces of coral and plenty of other plants. Some even looked edible. The wood looked like it would crumble at even the slightest touch, but it was huge. Well, at least to me. The ship itself could probably be carried around easily by the leviathan. It was terrifying to think about. My mind quickly changed over when I saw small schools of fish that swam by, finding this place to be a home. If I weren’t on the brink of tears from my earlier circumstances I would say that this place wasn’t bad at all. It seemed to have everything you would need. Food, shelter, plenty of places to hide. This honestly wouldn’t be a bad home. Though I was sure this place was empty for a reason. I just didn’t want to know why.

The leviathan let out a huff through their nose before cupping their hand around me and slowly bringing me to the entrance. I turned to look back, jumping when they lowered themselves to the ground to be at eye level with me. I gulped, staring at the vivid purple in their eyes that let off a small glow. He tilted his head as if asking why I wasn’t going in. If I wasn’t so scared of him I would’ve laughed at how clueless he looked.

I forced myself to swim in, taking small glances back at the leviathan as they pulled their hand away. He pushed himself off of the ground and swam around for a bit before laying down in a spot beside the ship I was in. There was a small crack in the wood that acted as a window between us that was as big as his eye, and now I could see why he chose that spot. He was making sure I wouldn’t swim off. Suddenly this place didn’t feel like a home at all. It just felt like a prison.

I ignored the thought as much as I could before studying my surroundings. There were a few coral pieces that surrounded the area I could probably sleep on. There weren’t any fish here either which was good for me. There were a few patches of seaweed on the ground along with tiny bits of kelp. I don’t usually eat them, but if it’s what it’ll take to not starve to death then oh well. As soon as the thought crossed my mind my stomach growled quietly. I sighed, grabbing a few pieces and eating them. Anything to survive I guess.

I swam around the place for a little and decided to sleep on a rock that was smooth and soft enough. I curled up onto it, my heart beating fast when I heard moving outside, the ship letting out a moan as the leviathan outside moved. I shut my eyes tightly, trying to block out the overwhelmingness of it all. First losing my parents, second being chased by countless monsters and predators, and now at the complete mercy of a leviathan that for some reason was helping me. Or maybe just saving me for later. I had no clue yet.

After everything went quiet, I yawned to myself, trying to fall asleep. It was hard to knowing that there was a leviathan much bigger than the ship you were in just outside but after a while I finally calmed down enough even though it was still nerve-wracking. I just shut my eyes, and finally fell asleep.

– – – – – –

When I woke up it was bright again, as if the storm and the clouds from the morning before had never happened. It was much clearer and warmer today which felt so amazing I didn’t even want to get up. It felt like absolutely nothing was wrong in the world. Well, at least it was until I opened my eyes and looked around.

This wasn’t home.

My eyes surveyed the area, finding small bright coral spread out across the place, algae and a few other plants that crawled up the walls of the torn-apart ship. A few small fish as big as I was came swimming out of anemones and some of the coral ready to start their day. As amazing and peaceful as it looked, I knew what was lying just outside the confines of the ship I was in.

I swam around a bit, eating a few tiny pieces of kelp before my day even started. The second that I shoved a few pieces in my mouth the place dimmed, something blocking the hole above. I tilted my head back and back until my eyes met one of his that peeked in. His pupils were slit as they darted around like he was trying to find me, his purple irises seemingly having a faint glow to them. Once he had his eye on me his pupils rounded, like he was relieved I hadn’t swam off.

Out of pure instinct my body began trembling, holding the few pieces of kelp in a fist as I stopped chewing. I dropped what I had and inched further away. It felt like I was just like some kind of… pet. My eyes widened at the realization. Was I being kept as a pet? Was this what was happening? It would explain why there hadn’t seemed to be any other predators here, but why go through all the trouble of keeping me as a pet? Just to observe me? I winced at the idea, staring down at the sand and seagrass that swayed with the small current. Anything to take my mind off of it.

There was a small huff before the light came back through the hole. I picked my head up and saw them move away from the hole. The wood creaked above as they moved to sit up. I swam cautiously closer to a smaller hole near the bottom and peeked out, watching as they yawned and stretched out all four of their arms. A shudder escaped my mouth just watching. They were horrifyingly big. Even more so now that I wasn’t right beside them. It made me wonder how I even had the courage to stay here anymore.

My eyes trailed their long tail lined with spikes and the same faint purple glow like it was dimming away. There were scratch marks and deep cuts all over and somehow it didn’t even seem to bother him. How was he not in constant pain even if they looked healed already?

A tiny gasp escaped my lips when they started moving, their shadow dimming the place just as quickly as it lit back up. I quickly turned to the entrance where the ship was split into half, my heart skipping a beat when one of their hands rested nearby, clawing at the sand slightly. Was he angry at me? This couldn’t be good. I bit the bottom of my lip as he lowered his head, pressing it up against the sand to peer inside. I swallowed hard, my heart ringing through my ears once again as he just stared and squinted his eyes like he was sorry for scaring me.

My breath hitched in my throat as they opened their mouth, revealing the sharp fangs that used to just barely peak under their lips. It took everything in me not to scream before they spoke, “Ready?” Although he tried to keep his voice as quiet as possible it still shook me to the core. He could’ve just grabbed me. His hand could fit in the opening. Maybe two if he really tried. So why didn’t he? Why wait for me to gather up whatever remaining courage I had left over from yesterday just to come out? I didn’t understand it at all. I thought leviathans were supposed to be blood-thirsty murderers. So why was he just waiting? He’s made me so confused about everything ever since he saved me.

I sucked in a deep breath and slowly swam forward. The leviathan just watched, his eyes wide with wonder for a split second. He was shocked I was willingly doing all of this, and if I were being honest, I was just as shocked by my own actions as he was. My parents would probably call me crazy for trusting a leviathan. They’d scream and try to get me to stay away, probably using themselves as shields. That’s just how protective they were of me. My heart throbbed just thinking of them. And I guess that’s why I had to trust the leviathan so that I could maybe reunite with them.

When I was close enough he lifted himself up slowly, taking a few glances before moving his hand a little bit behind me again. He pointed in the direction we were going, continuing on from yesterday. How far was he taking me? I was still tired from last night but there was no way I would go against the leviathan when I was completely at his mercy.

So I forced myself to keep swimming. The leviathan swam slower this time finally realizing why I was so tired in the first place. He was so confusing. He didn’t talk unless he absolutely had to, didn’t tell me his name, and for some reason didn’t even seem the least interested in eating me. It seemed like he was even protecting me from danger with how he insisted his hand stay behind me. Almost like it was there to grab me at a moment's notice if he sensed danger rather than it being there to catch me if I fell behind. Maybe… his intentions really were just to help me. Doubt washed away in me just a little, but it quickly came back just as fast as it came.

There was a quiet but low grumbling, and I could already tell what it was without even having to see the leviathan place a hand over his stomach, biting down so hard on his lips that blood came out. I stopped dead in my tracks, completely forgetting that his hand was behind me as his fingers came into view. I squeaked embarrassingly enough but didn’t move as he turned to face me, moving his hand away from his stomach. He was hungry. I was pretty sure I was one of the only living things out here for miles.

I shuddered, not daring to look him in the eyes. I didn’t want to die here. Maybe if I just didn’t look at him he wouldn’t think of anything? He’d leave me alone? Wouldn’t want to eat me? I felt the bile crawl up my throat at the thought, jumping and pressing my back into his palm when he opened his mouth, “I don’t eat mers.” He explained, fingers twitching around me like he was holding himself back. Or like he was just attempting to comfort me. Well, while it was doing the exact opposite, I was shocked to find out that they don’t eat mers. Grateful, but shocked.

I took a deep breath before very cautiously swimming forward and stopped, staring between his hand and himself, “Wh-where are you t-taking me?” I couldn’t help but ask, my voice trembling with fear. Both pairs of his eyes widened before he pointed out in the direction we were heading. Though, this time I could see a silhouette of what looked to be another ship. It looked dark and gloomy like it was haunted. I just gave off a bad feeling.

“I-in there?” I pointed, my arm shaking as I tilted my head back to watch them nod once.

“There’s a coral reef on the other side. I’d go around the shipyard but you’re already tired.” He shrugged. I rubbed my arms, staring off. Was there really a coral reef on the other side? It would make plenty of sense if my parents were there. They always loved the colorful scenery. They might’ve thought I went there to look for them. My heart pounded at the thought of seeing them again, sucking in a deep breath as I pushed myself to swim towards the shipyard. There were tons of them that either crashed into the sand or were torn in half. Some were huge, even bigger than the one I stayed in last night. Pieces lay everywhere, the only plants growing around was the seagrass that swayed with the subtle current.

I still couldn’t shake the bad feeling about this place. This place didn’t seem friendly at all. There was barely any noise. No colorful fish swimming around, and in the far distance you could see where the coral reef begins, the faint outlines of red, blue and pink in the background.

I bit the side of my cheek as I swam out, flinching when the ship would creak or if I caught some movement in the corner of my eye. Even if it was only a plant that was moving strangely. My nerves weren’t calmed when I turned to face the leviathan who remained swimming beside me, his eyes showing no emotion. Maybe it would be a good idea to have a conversation? He didn’t look like he minded. I just wanted to take my mind off the eeriness of this place.

“U-um. C-can I know y-your name?” I bit my tongue for stuttering, looking away out of embarrassment. He glanced at me from the corner of his eyes and sighed.

“Why?” His voice didn’t come out as harsh as I thought it would, but it did have an edge to it which made me doubt if I wanted to push more. Or even continue talking. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked even if I was curious. Well, at least his tone almost made me want to drop the entire thing altogether.

“You’re helping me. I-I’d like to know who you are…” My voice stopped working after a while like that was all I was able to say to him before fear took over and shut down everything. I still kept on swimming though, keeping my arms close and watching from the corner of my vision as his hand started to slowly come into view. He knew something was off about this place too.

He turned to look down at me for a split second like he was trying to see if I was lying, then turned to stare back into the deep ocean where the reef was just lying in the distance.

“Kieran.” Was all he said, his voice a little sharp but at the same time I caught a hint of happiness. Well, Kieran was extremely hard to read. I couldn’t tell if he just didn’t care at some times or if he did and just never showed it. I couldn’t tell if he had bad intentions, but I told myself to believe him. It was great to know the name of the person who saved me and then decided he was going to willingly help me get out of this place.

“I’m Devon. Um, th-thank you.” It wouldn’t sit right with me if I never thanked him for offering the help. I rubbed my arms and stared down, flinching when I heard another creak, but this time Kieran stopped, placing one of his other hands in front of me so I couldn’t swim further. Not that I could’ve swam too far from him with how fast he reacted.

My heart beat hard against my chest as I stared with wide eyes out into the shipyard. Nothing seemed to be moving. It was quiet. Too quiet. Not even the current seemed to make the seagrass that was lined all over the sandy ground sway. I let out a soft breath, eyes scanning the place for any danger.

“Yeah… sure.” He whispered, shaking his head and moving his hands away from me. Was there no danger? No other monster lurking in the shadows? Nothing waiting to pounce at me? I looked up to see what Kieran was doing, a tiny squeak being let out as he swam down towards a ship that looked worse for wear, stopping to wait for me as he nudged his head down towards it.

Down there? Was he leading me to a death trap or something? It looked dark and murky. A place I would usually avoid. I thought we were going to the reef. Why would he- My thoughts were interrupted when he rolled his eyes and his hand scooped me up, fingers curling slightly so that I couldn’t find a way to swim out. Breathing became hard when I was being brought deeper into the murky water, the ships somehow looking even more untrusting than before. The eeriness settled in even deeper. Something was wrong with this place and I was being forced into it. Nothing good could come out of this.

My ears couldn’t register noise anymore, everything muffled and cloudy as my vision blurred. The water was moving too fast around me. It was hard to keep up with anything happening. Even when everything had stopped and faintly glowing purple eyes stared down at me. My body was trembling and it felt like I was about to throw up the little bit of breakfast that I had.

It took a moment for my senses to come back to me. Kieran was looming above, a look on his face that screamed that he was sorry. It was still so strange to me that he wasn’t like how I pictured a leviathan. Maybe the other one that tried to eat me yesterday but for some reason the one that was easily much bigger than a literal kraken was the nicest person I’ve met other than my parents. I wasn’t complaining though. I’d much rather be alive than as a tiny snack.

I scanned the area now that my vision wasn’t as blurry, though my head started to hurt. It was dark. Colder. The ship sitting in front of us was absolutely huge. Kieran could still probably carry it effortlessly. That’s what scared me the most.

The ship was mostly intact with a huge hole on one side. The mast was broken in half. Indentured on either side of the ship like something was crushing it. Maybe a kraken used to live here? Or what if it still did? I sucked in a deep breath at the thought, staring up wide-eyed at Kieran who tilted his head, his two pairs of eyes staring right back at me with a hint of sympathy in them. As soon as he opened his mouth to speak, he was cut off by a sudden crash. Metal hitting metal. Which meant that something was here. Something big enough to move some parts of the ship that was coming off. Though, it seemed more like it was hiding rather than coming after anything. Hiding from the huge leviathan that was looming above the ship? Yeah, I’d do the same.

Kieran blinked, “I saw… something. You can look.” He pointed towards the hole and lowered himself to the ground, laying on his arms trying to peak in through another small hole. Me? Go in? What if it’s not another mer? I guess there wasn’t really any way to know unless I checked, seeing as he was too big to get even one of his hands through the hole and probably could barely see what was inside.

I swam closer and stood at the foot of the large hole and peered in. There didn’t seem to be anything but tons of metal parts thrown around everywhere. It just seemed like a dark cave from the inside. Though, there was another clang, making me cower behind the entrance. I peered in once more, terrified of what I might find, but there was nothing. Kieran gave up on what he was trying to do, now moving to check on me. He tilted his head again as I cowered by the entrance.

“I h-heard something…” and just as I said it there was another clang followed by a fast-moving shadow. I whimpered. Whatever was in here was fast. All my instincts were in full working motion, but I had to deny every single one of them. I couldn’t swim away. Kieran would just catch me by barely moving any of his limbs. If I screamed it would just alert whatever was in there, and there was no way I was going to fight it.

Kieran huffed softly, ruffling my hair a bit as he lowered himself to the ground. Was he annoyed? That wasn’t good for me. A shiver ran down my spine before there was a bright ball of light. It illuminated a small area, swaying with the waves. My eyes widened, swimming in just a little bit. Kieran squinted his eyes, trying to see what was going on. Then it all happened so fast. Next thing I know sharp fangs lunge right at me. I was barely given enough time to react to dodge, and luckily I did.

It was a strange-looking fish that was hell-bent on trying to eat me. I swam away, forgetting who was behind me when I swam backward. The second I did though, I rammed right into the bridge of Kieran’s nose, and I wish that I hadn’t.

He growled. Deep, and threatening. It rumbled throughout my entire body, with no control over my limbs anymore as tears pricked my eyes. It was amazing how only his voice could make anything tremble with fear. It all felt too much. Too loud. Somehow, his growling only grew deeper and louder. Like he wasn’t even trying before. I clasped my hands over my ears, wincing and just hoping that this would go away. Tha tI wouldn’t feel like my insides were shaking inside or that I was going to throw up my insides. It was terrifying that someone was capable of this.

When it didn’t feel like my insides were shaking anymore, I peered up, cringing away at the sight of him baring fangs that were sharper and deadlier than the strange fish that was trying to eat me. Kieran glanced down at me, letting out what I thought, surprisingly, was a sigh of relief. My breath hitched in my throat when he backed away further and stared back at me with tired eyes like nothing had happened.

My breathing quickened as I grabbed at my chest trying to calm my heartbeat, but that was no use. When his mouth so much as twitched, I bolted into the ship, pressing my back into the cold metal. Dead. I was so amazingly dead. There was no way I was going to survive. He was going to tear this ship apart and dig me out. No way out of this alive.

I heard him moving outside, a shadow covering up the entryway, but nothing happened. I whimpered, not expecting it to echo throughout the place. He for sure heard that, and in response he whispered softly, “Sorry guppy.”

And I didn’t know what to say. What could I even say? My breath became ragged as I peeked outside and just watched. Something was calming about it. Away from everything big and threatening. A sort of calm quiet without the eeriness of it all. Kieran messed with a smaller boat, trying to tear off the big pieces of metal. He looked so tired. There were small bags under his eyes from what I could only guess was from lack of sleep. Not to mention I knew that he was hungry, and I didn’t even want to think about what he could eat. It was just… so terrifying, but at the same time calming that someone was helping me. It was crazy but the truth.

With a shaky sigh, I swam over to a small rock and lay on it, using my arms as a pillow. It was dark and to be honest I think I’ve had enough of an adrenaline rush for today. This wasn’t a place I’d usually sleep in, but I had no right to complain. It was better than digging myself into the sand again only to be found by yet another hungry predator.

I sighed, trying to ignore the movement outside and how fast my heart raced. I’d just have to hope that he wasn’t angry. Or leave. I’ve been alone for a while. I guess it was nice to have any kind of company at this point. I shut my eyes, curling in on myself slowly and tried to keep a calm mind. Even though it didn’t work.

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Little cliffhanger even though it's not much, and I admit that this was a little rushed but it's in the spirit of mermay so that's okay! (I love mermay so much) Thank you for reading!

Taglist: @da3dm @dav8530

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#g/t #g/t writing #g/t community #sfw g/t #g/t fearplay #giant/tiny #oc: Kieran #oc: devon #urghhh so mad at myself for rushing this #also all of this was written at pretty much 3 am #oh well #At first I was thinking of a different scene but decided against it #Choosing is never easy #but like the third chapter is already halfway done and this one just took long cause of editing #UGHH I HATE EDITING #thank you for reading!#love you guys ❤️

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