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rearranged-fanfic · 15 days ago

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Seaside (Original Draft)

Summary: When Reader-chan returns to her seaside hometown for the summer, she catches the eye of a mysterious suitor. Of course, she's not aware that she even has a suitor, let alone one as unusual as this... Merman!Gojo AU. Pairing: Gojo Satoru/Female Reader Rating: E for the fun stuff. A/N: This is the original version of the story - a first draft . A bigger, better iteration of it exists here. This version is incomplete. I decided to host it on Tumblr, rather than deleting it altogether. That way people who originally enjoyed it can keep reading it.

The cab door closes behind me, and I wait as the driver hauls my oversized suitcase out of his trunk.

My sundress billows against my legs as I walk out past the cover of the village welcome center. The covered awning opens up into a boundless blue sky above. Tarmac underfoot gives way to soft grass that’s started to turn gold in the summer heat. The sea wind blows, nearly sending my hat into the sky above. It smells like salt and surf and nostalgia.

And the tiniest bit like fish, I admit to myself with a hint of humor.

The teeny tiny seaside town below me is just as quaint and quiet as it’s ever been. From above, I can see the people wandering the cobblestone streets. In the distance, ships pull in and out of the harbor. Seagulls scream from behind the fluffy clouds above. My little corner of paradise, away from the faceless mobs in the big city. There’s something so incredibly reaffirming about coming back home after months and months away. I feel closer to my heart, in a way.

It’s still the same, I think to myself. Every summer, I return, and it’s like I never left.

I’d grown up in the village below. It’d been my home for most of my life—up until I’d moved away to go to college.

Not that school is going well, to be honest. But that’s something to worry about when I’m not on my own personal holiday.

“Sis!”

Still holding my hat against my head, I turn around. Just in time to get tackled by a brown-haired blur. Takuma Ino sweeps me up into one of his patented hugs. I giggle as I’m lifted off of my own two feet and hoisted into his arms, made strong from years of working a fishing craft. He spins the two of us around until the world devolves into splotches of color and light.

“Put me down, put me down!” I shriek in between my laughter, still trying in vain to keep my hat from joining the clouds. “Takkun, I’m going to throw up if you don’t stop spinning,” comes my pointed threat. And I’m suddenly back on my own two feet.

“I’m just so happy to see you again!” he exclaims. “It feels like it’s been years!”

“Takuma, you saw her last summer. Give her some room to breathe, you big dork,” comes an admonishment from nearby.

Takuma’s longtime girlfriend, Akari Nitta, has come to greet me as well. She hasn’t changed too much over the years, though she’s letting her roots grow out. Dark brown natural hair fades into the golden blonde that she’d once favored. She’s in a mechanic’s jumpsuit, I notice. The suit is unzipped and rolled down at the top, revealing her toned arms from years of fixing up boats and the like. She looks healthy. Good. The last time I’d visited, she’d been battling a pretty nasty sickness that’d left her weak and frail.

“Akari!” She smiles warmly and pulls me into a hug as well, sans lifting and spinning. “It’s good to see you again!”

“Good to see you, too. Seems like big city life is treating you fine, huh?”

“Can’t complain,” I demure, shrugging. “You seem to be doing better than the last time I saw you.”

“I spent some time in the hospital in the next town over. Takuma fussed over me so much that I had the choice of being smothered to death or getting better; I chose getting better.” She jokes.

“I wasn’t trying to smother you,” Takuma pouts.

“Didn’t have to try to succeed, Babe.”

I roll my eyes good-naturedly. They’re still sickeningly sweet, I see. And practically joined at the hip, just like I can remember them always being. Akari and Takuma are both two years younger than I am. I’d grown up alongside them, having been practically raised by the Ino family after my parents had passed.

“No baby sister this time around?” Akari pries. “You guys fighting again?”

I wave her off. “Nah. She’s busy travelling the world with her new fling. You know how she is.”

Takuma snorts out a laugh. My sister can never stay still for too long. She’s always been a bit too wild to put down roots or make commitments.

Ever the gentleman, Takuma takes my heavy suitcase so I don’t have to carry it all the way. The two walk me into town, updating me on the comings and goings of the village in the intervening months since I’d last been here.

Takuma’s older sister, Akemi, is at university. She’s working hard to become a child psychologist, living in the same city that I do. We meet up for lunch occasionally, when she can catch a break from her mountain of schoolwork and her tedious part-time job. Takuma still fills me in on her, though, boasting about her academic accomplishments with brotherly pride. She’s set to move into an internship at a reputable company, which is one step closer to realizing her dream.

Mayu, the Ino family matriarch, retired last year. Well, she’d quit formally working to pursue a hobby making jewelry from the seashells that wash up on the beach. Her online store has taken off, given how busy Takuma says the woman is fulfilling orders.

And Takuma and Akari are the same as they’ve always been. He goes out on his dad’s fishing boat nearly every day while she keeps the old motor up and running like clockwork. And, in their free time, the two go surfing in the large waves that break just off shore. They’re planning on entering a competition this year in the hopes of getting a piece of that sweet, sweet cash reward. They’d had to forgo last year’s surf-off because of Akari’s illness.

“But this year,” she states, “we’re bringing home that trophy!”

Takuma snorts at his girlfriend’s enthusiasm but wholeheartedly agrees. “They got lucky that we weren’t there to destroy the competition last summer. But we’re back and better than ever, baby!” The two whoop and high five.

Yep. They’re still the same as always.

It’s nice, I think, how this place seems almost frozen in time. It’s always the same: peaceful, idyllic, sheltered from the rest of the world’s chaos.

Takuma walks me through town and out to my parents’ old house—my summer home. Akari breaks off to go back to her shop along the way, and I’m left alone with my adopted cousin. He chatters on about his career, and how things have changed since the last time I was in town. He goes on and on about how Aoi Todo can’t help him on the boat anymore because he’d left to be a bassist for some up-and-coming pop idol.

“Yikes. You go out to sea alone?”

“Yeah. It’s a real bummer, y’know? I get bored out there with nobody to talk to.”

Forget about the boredom. That doesn’t sound safe at all. And when I lecture him about how dangerous fishing alone is, he just pats my head and tells me not to worry. Yeah, right. I’ll always worry about him. He’s family. And more than a little scatterbrained.

On the way through the village, we get stopped by the vast majority of people we pass. I’ve known most of these people since I was very small. And some of them I’ve known since they were small. We pass by the troublesome trio: Yuji Itadori, Nobara Kugisaki, and Megumi Fushiguro. So named because they’re always getting into some form of mischief.

Last year, they’d put the mayor’s underwear in the summer hotpot.

And the year before that, the photocopier in town hall had mysteriously printed out a series of butts that were, allegedly, Yuji’s. They’d never admitted to it, preferring to turn the other cheek. But those of us in the community knew that it was either one of them or all three conspiring to moon the whole town.

Megumi, ever quiet and taciturn, offers me a nonchalant wave. The other two are varying levels of loud and touch-feely, but a flying tackle or two are always welcomed. I laugh out loud as Yuji lifts me up and spins me like Takuma had done earlier.

“You’re back! Tell me all about the city! I wanna know about the new subway system; is it as cool as I think it is?!” His words come out so fast that I can barely hear them, let alone answer.

“Let her speak, you dolt!” Nobara exclaims. Beaning the pink-haired teen in the back of his head with a wadded up food wrapper. “And besides, she’s going to answer my questions first. Ladies always go first!”

“What lady?” Yuji deadpans.

And chaos ensues.

I sidle up to Megumi while the other two bicker and banter. “How’s Tsumiki doing?” I ask him quietly, and the boy barely gives me a side glance before turning his attention to the phone in his hand.

“She’s better,” he finally answers, voice quiet. “The doctors think this treatment will work. But you know her, she’s hopeful. Like she always is.”

I offer him a smile and nod. That’s good to hear. Tsumiki always was a ray of sunshine, even when she’s been a kid. She’s definitely the responsible one out of all these younger kids.

After a few minutes of updating all of the kids and hearing all of their wacky adventures—nor pranks, definitely not—Takuma and I finally managed to break away. I turn around and blow Nobara aplayful kiss as we make our escape. But before she can catch it, Yuji snags the invisible gesture of affection out of the air.

And that sparks a whole new conflict between the two hotheads. I catch a brief glimpse of a hand fisted in Nobara’s brilliant auburn hair just before somebody is suplexed into the ground.

My home is a little way from the village. It’s a fifteen-minute walk outside of town, which is spent going over new things I’d discovered of the last few months: artists, songs, movies. I talk with my hands excitedly while Takuma wheels my suitcase behind him, occasionally hitting a rut in the gravel pathway.

He shares, too. Apparently, Akari has taken a particular liking to Ska and Rockabilly music. Takuma is… less enthusiastic about it, and has effectively banned it in the house. This is, from how he describes it, their first real fight as a couple.

I’m so proud of them! Another milestone reached!

“Ma’s been keeping the place clean, so it shouldn’t be dusty or have any spiders. But she says you’ll have to take the plastic covers off the furniture. She was worried about moths.”

Honestly, Mayu is such a saint. I love that woman!

“When is she going to let me pay her for her housekeeping work?”

Takuma lets out a doubtful puff. “Like she’d ever ask for payment. She’d be offended if you brough it up, honestly. You’re family, and that’s what family does.”

“I’ll pay her back someday.”

“Ah. Almost there,” he says, changing the subject, then picks up the pace.

My summer home rests along the shore, as it always does. The dock attached to it reaches out over the ocean in a long arm, visible from far away. Only the tip of the wooden structure is in sight right now. As we turn into the little inlet and crest the hill, the whole place is revealed. It looks as homely as ever, with its bright yellow siding and white trim.

When we reach the porch steps, I turn to him.

“Well, we’re here,” I announce redundantly. “Thanks for walking me to my door. You’re grown into such a gentleman.” Takuma blushes lightly under my teasing and dodges an obnoxious cheek pinch.

He’s almost too tall to harass now. I wonder when he’ll stop growing.

“Any plans tonight, Sis?”

“Let’s see…,” I pretend to think it over, pointer finger tapping against my chin. “I had planned on a ritual sacrifice to Cthulu later. Followed by an hour or two of potatoing the couch. Then a mini coma, because travelling so far is draining.”

He laughs at my dramatics.

“Well, Ma wants to have you over for dinner tonight, if you’re able to find time in your busy schedule. Think you’re up for it?” Takuma asks. “She’s missed you, y’know?”

Mayu had practically taken my sister and I in after our parents had passed away. I love the woman like my second mom, even though we aren’t blood related. She’s one of the people that I’d missed the most, to be honest. Things in the city weren’t the same—not without the patented bone-crushing Ino hugs and piles of homecooked foods.

I offer Takuma a sweet smile. “Of course! Just let me know when you guys want me to show up.”

“Ah, just whenever. You know Ma; she’d say you’re welcome to come over any time. We usually eat a little earlier on days that I’m out to sea. But I’d imagine tonight’s food’ll be on the table around six.”

“Five-thirty it is, then! Sounds like a blast!”

He leaves me, too. And I wave at his figure long after he’s disappeared around the bend.

And I turn back to look up at my familiar retreat. God, I missed this place. I do every time I leave. Maybe this is the year that I call college quits and return to the village for good? Maybe I would, if I had a future here. I’d like to stay.

This is my home.

The house had once belonged to my parents. When they’d passed, I’d inherited it and the land that it sits on. It’s not a magnificent coastal chateau by any means, but it’s cozy and warm. The little beachfront home is two bedrooms and a shared living area. When I stay, I usually take Mom and Dad’s old bedroom. It has the sliding door that goes directly out onto the deck.

My sister usually takes our old room when she’s here… unless she’s too busy falling asleep on the plush couch in the living room.

I peek into my old bedroom for a moment, lamenting the fact that I’m staying here alone this time around.

The room is so small. It’s crazy to think that I’d once shared this space with another person. Now, it hardly feels large enough to accommodate just myself. Of course, I’d been a lot smaller when my sister and I had to room together. Now that it’s just me, I can’t help but wonder how neither of us managed to kill each other.

So many toes stepped on and so, so much privacy invaded.

That reminds me… I open my phone and send her a text.

[The Gremlin] Me: Big Bird has landed in the nest. Hope everything is going well on your end! Gremlin: Big bird? Oof cringe Gremlin: Lololol miss you lots cringe and all Gremlin: The shack still standing? praise cthulu

I roll my eyes at her weirdness. We usually meet up for Summer break, but she’s backpacking across some foreign country with her new man. Apparently, this one has money. I’d admonish her for being a gold digger, but I admire her grind.

Still, it feels odd. This is my first year back without her in tow.

[The Gremlin] Me: Shack still standing. It feels empty without you here. We need to meet up next year! Don’t ditch me again, I don’t care how cute your new boyfriend is! Gremlin: But hes very very cute :3 Me: Don’t care. You can ditch him for your favorite big sister. Gremlin: Only big sister :P

I smile at the screen and leave our old room behind.

With my arrival out of the way, I can finally unpack. There’s not much in my suitcase: some clothes, necessities, and a sketchpad for when my muse appears. It’s a snap to out it all in its proper place, especially given that I’ve been doing this same song and dance for years.

I know where everything goes, and could unpack in my sleep.

There are indeed plastic covers all over the furniture, and I take great glee in pulling them off as they rattle like cellophane ghosts. The covers get crammed into the front closet, where I can forget about them until I leave.

Despite the lack of dust and cobwebs—again, I mentally praise Mayu—there’s a stuffiness in the air that no amount of cleaning can remove. It’s the sort of heavy air that accumulates where nobody has lived for a while.

To combat it, I throw open all of the windows and doors. The sea breeze will chase it all away, I think.

And while I give the house time to air out, I pull a granola bar from my suitcase and go out to the deck.

The deck has been updated since the summer before. It was probably getting to be a safety hazard, I think to myself abashedly.

The problem boards had been replaced at some point. Old formerly rotten parts of the deck are now a much lighter, newer wood that’s been sealed against the elements. The bits that’d once been soft underfoot are firm once more. I no longer feel like I’m traversing a field of land mines, waiting for the inevitable misstep that causes my foot to go through a particularly bad spot.

The long reach of the dock is less intimidating than it’d been when I was a child. It’d once felt like it stretched a mile into the sea. Now, it’s just a short walk until I reach the end. Shuffling off my sandals and rubbing my sore heels, I plonk down at the very edge. The coolness of the water caresses the red-hot soles of my feet. My sterling silver ankle bracelets reflect the light of the sun like fish scales.

It’d been a bad idea to wear new shoes, I admonish myself.

I kick out absentmindedly, sending ripples of water out to sea. The ocean is calm right now, but I know that it can get rough. I sigh and tilt my head back, basking in the midday sun. I’d jump in to cool off, if I didn’t know any better.

The water around the village isn’t good for swimming. The surf and spray are rough at the best of time. It’s good for sports and the like, but human bodies are too likely to get tossed around or pulled out to sea in a riptide.

The cove that my little home rests on is one of the more dangerous areas, with the tidal pools that have formed here creating all manner of crazy currents when the tide changes. I’d been scared away from taking a dip here time and time again when I was just a kid.

Now, I know better. Only my feet in the water, or Dad will claw himself out of his grave just to berate me.

It’s so quiet out here, with only the waves to keep me company. I let out a low hum—a song from very, very far in the past. It’s what Mom used to sing to my sister and I when we were small. I only remember parts of the words now, but the tune is forever ingrained into my soul.

Then another sound joins my lament: a low, haunting wail.

“A dolphin?” I ask under my breath. Whatever it is, it sounds close. Or it’s very, very loud.

And as its beautiful cry dies off, I sing back to it a little louder.

Again, it calls to me. And this time, we harmonize. The mysterious sea creature and I engage in a duet that nobody will ever believe. My low, out-of-key vocalizations are bolstered and uplifted by the incredible cry that it accompanies. It sounds… good. I open my mouth wider and sing the little bits of Mom’s lullaby that I can remember, and I’m matched word for word by a song so heartbreakingly lovely that it gives me chills.

It sounds so lonely.

I wonder if it’s an orca that lost its pod?

The song eventually falls silent, and I’m left gaping at the serene indigo waters in front of me.

In a fit of spontaneity, I stand up and cup my hand to the sides of my mouth to call out to the poor beast. “That was beautiful!” I praise. And I think I might hear a faint chirp in the distance.

Wow, I think. I need to tell somebody about this! This is so cool! Of course, nobody would ever believe me… unless I record it!

But I didn’t bring my phone out here with me, I note with a huff.

Guess the once-in-a-lifetime moment will remain little more than a memory.

I sigh, humming under my breath once more. My companion doesn’t join in. They’ve probably gone away, scared by my human calls. Oh well. It’s still a beautiful day.

“I’ll have to bring my sketchpad out,” I tell myself. “Maybe I’ll find something to paint while I’m here?”

Maybe my sea friend will come back and show itself? I tingle with excitement at the thought. I hope they come back, just so I can see them. I bet they’re just as breathtaking as their song had been.

When I look down, I notice that one of my ankle bracelets has slipped off. The cheap clasp probably broke on it. Oh well, I think. It’s not the first thing that the ocean has stolen from me, and it won’t be the last.

Then I jolt when I remember something important.

“Oh, crap! I need to get ready for dinner!”

My first night is tranquil. For once, I don’t fall asleep to the buzzing of cars outside of an apartment window. There are no noisy neighbors banging on walls, no sounds of music played far too loud in the wee hours of the morning. There’s only the soft sound of the ocean to lull me into a deep, restful slumber.

The morning dawn filters through my curtains, lighting up my room with hues of fire red and golden yellow. It’s early, I think blearily. Much earlier than I’d have gotten up in the city. But things are different here in my hometown.

It makes me wonder why I go back to the city, honestly.

I pull myself out of bed with the promise of coffee, and tug on an old oversize t-shirt of Dad’s. It’s one of the few mementos that I keep from him that I actually use. The threadbare fabric is soft against my sleep-sensitive skin. It’s like being wrapped up in a familiar hug. Sometimes, I like to imagine that it still smells like him.

And then I wonder if I’m not a creep because of it. But, hey, different people grieve in different ways.

My morning routine starts with a breakfast of slightly-burned toast and ends with a blissfully hot shower. I spend extra time washing away the salt that sticks to everything by the ocean. If I go too long without shampooing, my hair starts to lose its sheen, getting rough and dying out.

One of the downsides of oceanfront property—not that there are many.

When I’m clean and fed, I slide open the door to my bedroom and step out onto my deck. Steam swirls above the mug of coffee in my hand. I plop down into one of the wicker chairs that are perched on the deck. Years of exposure to the sun and surf have left them more than a little washed out, but it just makes them all the cozier.

They have character, awkward lumps and all. I bring my cup up to blow away some of the heat, eyes scanning the ocean in front of me. It’s ruby red with the light of the sky above, except for the thin sliver of golden where the horizon and great body of water meet. I’ll need to take a picture so I can paint it later. Watercolors, maybe? With gold leaf for the accents in the clouds?

That’d be pretty.

I guess majoring in art is useful after all. Sometimes.

Mayhaps.

Laughing at myself, I look over the water again, trying to see if maybe my friend from the day before has returned. I’d hadn’t told the Ino family about my encounter earlier, worried that Mayu and Takuma would insist on coming over to see my new friend. But I want to keep them to myself for just a little bit longer. I look and I look, then I sigh in disappointment. Alas, no creatures are lurking in the surf that I can spot. Of course, the water is deceptively deep, even close to my dock. It’d be hard to see anything in six or more feet of water.

And speaking of dock… something catches my eye, and I squint trying to see.

Is that…? I can’t quite make it out.

Placing my coffee down on the glass table nearby, I haul myself up to go take a closer look.

“Seashells?” I whisper when I reach the edge, where the wood disappears into water.

Five innocuous shells sit perfectly in a row. They hadn’t been washed up naturally, by the looks of things. No, they were placed far too deliberately. And they’re perfect, I note. They’re the right shape, size, and color to be considered pretty. Not a single flaw mars their delicate edges.

“Wow,” I breathe. I’d used to collect shells when I was younger, I remember. But they’d always been pummeled into the rocks by the waves, covered in chips and scrapes. These look like they were plucked right off of the seabed.

Of course, the next logical line of questioning is who the hell left these here in the first place?

My mind immediately goes to Takuma and his early-morning shell collecting for his mom. Had he left these here for me before going to work? A smile pulls at my lips. That’s so damn thoughtful of him. Of course, he’s always been a softie with a considerate streak a mile wide.

I’ll have to thank him later, I think to myself.

My phone buzzes in my pocket and I pull it out to check the notifications.

Clicking open my social media tab, I unlock the picture that was sent. My sister. She’s the centerpiece of a selfie, with a massive mountain in the background. Ah. She must be rock climbing right now. That sounds… cold. She certainly looks bundled up in a thick winter parka with fur trim.

She looks so happy. God… I miss her so much. There’s a pang in my chest.

In response, I send her a picture of myself, glorious sunrise my backdrop. And when I click back onto the photo, I notice something behind me. I squint.

There, in the distance, is a tail breaking through the water.

The next day, I receive more shells.

And again, the day after that.

I get them every morning, before the sun rises. It’s nice. If not a bit much.

Takuma is out on his boat by the time I get up, so I don’t have time to ask him about it. And, honestly, I keep forgetting anyway. It’s not like it’s a big deal or anything. It’s just… odd. Then again, Takuma has always been a bit odd. Pretty much everybody in the village is, if I’m being honest.

Sometimes, I hear my friend singing in the cove. Their vocals are just as beautiful as I remember them being. I sit on the end of the dock and hum along with them, harmonizing and enjoying the peace that the presence brings.

It feels like a call that I’m answering, like I’m talking to them. It’s amazing!

I consider putting the singing on video, but there’s something about the experience that I want to keep to myself. It’s strange, being so possessive of a dolphin—or whatever they are—but I feel like if I share them, then some sort of powerful spell will be broken. What if they leave and never return?

So, it’s our little secret.

The trip into town is a hop and a skip compared to my commute in the city had been.

I wave by people as I pass them, elbowing my way through the afternoon crowd. The village might not be populated heavily, but there’s always a large congregation when the fishing vessels start returning. Most come by to help unload the large catches and put them on ice until they can be shipped off. Of course, there is a good portion of older folk that just enjoy being voyers to the whole process, watching rather than lending a hand.

By the time I arrive, most of the fuss has already gone down. Takuma’s boat is smaller, so it holds less than the others he goes out to sea with. And that means that he's usually unloaded much faster.

I find him sitting with Akari at one of the smaller, more secluded docks. They’re in the middle of discussing something about boat engines with their usual enthusiasm. Takuma has a wet towel slung over the back of his neck, probably to suck up the heat of a sunburn. He never wears sunscreen, no matter how many times his mother and sister verbally batter him.

It’s a wonder he hasn’t turned into bacon yet.

“Good evening, Takkun!” I chirp and offer him a bottle of water from my sack of goodies. Looks like stopping off at the convenience store had been a good idea after all. “Thirsty?” I shake the bottle in invitation, only to have it snatched from me.

“You’re a lifesaver, Sis! I swear, you’re too good to me!” I think he’s actually crying as he slams the water back like it’s a shot of whiskey.

“Heya,” I offer to Akari. “Busy day, you two?”

Takuma shakes his head. “No, actually. The fish aren’t wanting to come, I guess.” His brown eyebrows furrow into a frustrated line. “I came away with a pretty small haul. But that’s not just my luck; everybody had the same problem.”

“It’s been a problem for a few days now, actually,” Akari chimes in. “Some of the others were talking about it while I was fixing up their rig.”

“it happens from time to time,” Takuma says wearily. “There’s probably something in the water scarin’ em. I’m guessing it’s a shark. Or there’s something messed up about the chemical balance around here. They’re sensitive to that sort of thing.”

At ‘shark’, I feel my palms start to sweat. My friend could be the culprit. Oops. “O-or maybe it’s a dolphin?” I suggest, though it sounds more like a question.

But I get waved off immediately. “Nah. It’d be a bigger predator. Something meaner. Besides, dolphins rarely travel alone. We’d have noticed a whole pod of them.”

“What if one is alone?”

Takuma shrugs and goes back to chugging like his life depends on it.

“In the meantime, this could be a good opportunity to do some work on the old girl,” Akari says, pointing down the line at Takuma’s vessel. “She needs a tune up. Bad. The engine sounds terrible. If everybody else wasn’t having trouble, I’d blame the sound for your bad luck.” She eyes him pointedly.

“There are some barnacle shells that I still have to scrape off—” I completely miss what he says next as I zone out. But the word sparked something in my memory.

Shells… shells. Oh, right! Shells!

I linger on that line of conversation, letting their words wash over me as they go over the logistics of boat maintenance—a topic which I am very sorely lacking experience with. I sit in silence and share some of the buns I’d picked up at the convenience store. They aren’t Mayu’s home cooking, but Takuma tears into his like a ravenous monster. We chat about other things here and there, mostly debating the existence of sea monsters. And when they take an extended break to enjoy the encroaching sunset, I pipe up.

“Hey, Takkun! I was wondering where you found those all those seashells this morning.”

The young man turns to look at me with confusion in his whiskey brown eyes. “What shells?” He asks.

The ones he’d left on the end of my dock before I’d gotten up? The ones that I’d been receiving for nearly a week straight? Those shells. But, looking at the way his face scrunches like he just licked a lemon, he has no clue what I’m talking about

Huh. Weird.

“I just figured they were from you, since you go out and beachcomb for your mom’s jewelry. But if it’s not you, it must be somebody else in the village. They’re always there first thing in the morning, though, so it’s an early riser leaving them.”

Takuma lets out a hum of thought. “It could be Yuji or Nobara. They’re always going for morning runs along the water. Strange, though. They usually go past our house.”

On the other side of town. That’s quite the deviation from their usual run, if so. Maybe they changed things up since I’m back for the summer? They never had in previous years, if I remember correctly. Yuji is pretty habit-driven, since he tends to hyperfixate to an extreme degree. I doubt he’d want to shake up his routine too much.

Even then, the rambunctious teens don’t really seem like the type to spend time looking for delicate seashells, just to leave them as gifts on my property. They’d probably break them in their excitement. Maybe Megumi would have a gentle enough touch, but he’s a notoriously late riser.

“I dunno…” I murmur, unsure. “Does that seem like Nobara or a Yuji thing to do?”

“No, but they’re wildly unpredictable on the best of days.”

That… is an understatement.

“Or maybe you have a secret admirer,” Akari suggests, turning the line of questioning away form the unruly teens. “Maybe he’s shy and doesn’t want anybody to know he’s interested, so he sneaks in to leave you gifts just before dawn.” She lets out a sigh. “That’d be so romantic!”

I roll my eyes. “Yeah. Right. It’s probably one of the retirees with too much time on their hands. I bet it’s that old man who used to run the bakery—what’s his name? He was always down by the water when I saw him.”

“Old Man Gakuganji? Nah. He passed away last year.”

I wince at my blunder. “Oof,” I state.

“Yeah. Big oof,” Akari agrees sagely. “No, but seriously, you might have somebody crushing on you. I think Kento was sweet on you for a bit.”

“Nanami?” Kento Nanami’s parents had been friends with mine. Our dads had gone out fishing together. He’s a bit older than I am, but a pretty nice guy… if not a bit emotionally constipated. “I thought he moved to the big city. He’s a businessman or something, right?”

He hadn’t wanted to keep fishing in what he considered to be a dying town. Not that I blame him; this life isn’t for everybody. That’s why I’d moved, too.

Akari nods. “Yuu Haibara is still here, though. And Kiyotaka Ichiji. Let’s see…” She places a finger up to her lips in thought. “There’s also Shoko Ieiri. She runs the clinic now, but she’s still single and ready to mingle.”

I raise my eyebrow at her. “Why is everybody you’re suggesting so much older than I am?” I ask dryly.

Takuma pipes up. “Because we know you,” he answers blithely.

And, yeah… they’re not wrong.

“Daddy Kink,” Akari jokes, waggling her brows in my direction. And I let out a faux outraged cry as I shove my hand over her mouth.

“Be silent, wench,” I growl in my most threatening voice—only slightly broken by the giggles threatening to burst from my chest. She starts laughing behind her impromptu gag, clearly not intimidated by my show in the slightest. And she tries to pry me off of her, but she’s giggling too hard to make any proper moves. Not that I’m any better, cackling like a witch and falling over myself in an effort to wrangle her into submission.

Takuma tries to break us up as we start wrestling.

In the heat of the moment, I almost forget that I have no idea where the seashells came from.

Almost.

My friend calls to me again in the morning.

And I… I can’t quite bring myself to call back. After all, what if this creature is the reason the fish are gone? I might be the thing keeping it here. It seems silly to think about, but it’d returned day after day to sing with me. And now I can’t help but wonder if it’d formed some sort of attachment. At the end of the day, it’s a wild animal. I can’t keep it for myself, no matter how much I enjoy its presence.

It hurts my heart to hear the lonely creature cry out with no response. I sit in bed, hands over my hears, and stare down at my bedspread. It calls for hours, far after the sun has risen high in the sky.

If it’s a dolphin without its pod, I hope it finds them soon.

But I’m not a dolphin, so it needs to leave. It needs to be with its own kind.

To escape the desolate wailing, I walk up to the hill overlooking town. And I spend hours with my sketchbook perched in my lap, drawing the faint outlines of the buildings that dot the landscape. I jot in the shadows of boats on the water.

Maybe I’ll bring a full-size canvas next time and really go all out with my acrylic paints. But, for now, the distraction of putting a pen to paper is enough. I hope that by the time I go back, the poor creature will have moved on. Maybe without me there to confuse it, it’ll realize that it’s in the wrong place and go looking for its family somewhere else?

I stay up on that hill for hours. Up until the sun starts to set. I’ve filled out four pages of doodles y the time that my phone interrupts my daze. I light up when I see that it’s Akemi calling. She’s always so busy with her schoolwork that it’s a rare treat to talk with her.

If course, she’s probably using me to check up on her brother.

Not that I mind too much. I love the Ino family to the moon and back.

I answer the call with a smile on my face.

Night’s darkness is a blanket cast over the tiny village. It swathes everything, diluted only by the gentle light of the half-swollen moon, which drifts in a lazy arc overhead. The stars twinkle vibrantly against their deep indigo backdrop.

It’s peaceful, soothing.

Like something out of a dream.

I’d dusted off the cover of my hot tub, deciding to break it out to help me relax. Turns out that the idea had been amazing. I give myself a mental pat on my back. The water isn’t turned up to full temp, but it’s warm enough to wring the tension right out of my muscles. I hadn’t soaked in this in close to four years. If anything, this is my sister’s favorite part of the house.

I’d never really been a fan, preferring the end of the dock and the cool water of the cove. But now I see what she’s so crazy about.

The tub has a picture-perfect view of the sky above and the ocean stretching past the horizon. I watch, content, as the silver moonlight caresses the ripples of the waves as they rush ashore. The heat brings a heady rush to my head, heating my cheeks better than any alcohol ever could. Steam rises above the surface, condensing on my eyelashes and the fine peach fuzz that decorates my skin.

I wiggle my toes and let out a delighted sigh. Sink further into the welcome embrace of the water.

Perfection, I think as I let my eyelids drift closed. The back of my head knocks against the pillow behind me.

The sigh morphs into a hum—Mom’s lullaby. I hum the disjointed tune, letting it ebb and flow with the waves on the beach. My hands come up to grasp at the edges of the tub, sloshing water over the edges. The drip, drip, drip of the droplets hitting the ground is rhythmic. It becomes part of my little song.

Below me, it almost sounds like the ocean is humming back. The sound vibrates in my ears at a frequency that I almost can’t hear. It throbs in my chest, along with the sluggish beat of my heart. The water of the tub laps at my body like the waves at the shore below.

The ocean’s song grows louder in my peripheral senses until it eclipses everything else.

I don’t even notice when I start drifting off.

Deeper and deeper I sink into relaxation.

Until I’m on the cusp of sleep.

Or maybe I’m already teetering over the edge of a dream.

There’s a series of sensations that make my eyes clench tighter: the brushing of something against my forehead, a tickling against the tip of my nose, the puffing of cool air against the bow of my lips. I stir in my sleep, perturbed by the disturbance.

I let out a low whine and try to fall back into oblivion.

The sensations draw back until I settle once more. Then they return more firmly. Cool skin presses against my own as a cheek brushes along mine, gently, reverently. Shuddering breaths taunt the sensitive skin behind my ear and along my jawline.

It feels hazy—like experiencing everything through a gaussian blur. I can’t quite focus on any one thing. It’s too hard to lift my heavy body. Sleep paralysis, I think.

This must be a dream. It has to be.

Then there’s a smooth voice murmuring into my ear. The vibrations almost tingle. I feel it down to the tips of my toes. It’s a man, I think. One that I’ve never heard before—that’s a voice I’d recognize no matter what. It’s so incredibly beautiful.

“You didn’t come when I called. I was worried,” the presence seems to almost be scolding me. I’d laugh at this weird dream manifestation if I could move.

There’s a beat.

“You shouldn’t sleep like this, you know; you could drown. You humans are terrifyingly fragile.” A chuckle follows the statement, trails off and fades into the sounds of the waves from below.

A dream.

Just a dream.

I sigh, leaning into the sweet touch. My dreamlike phantom nuzzles at the place where my shoulder and neck meet. The soft tickling comes again. It lingers against my chin, leaving moisture in its wake. Hair, I think. Wet. Cold.

It’s such a contrast from the heat of my bath that I shiver.

What I think are fingers trace the immodest lines of my naked form. They start at the just of my collarbones, then move with curious slowness down the valley of my breasts. Are they really fingers, though, when they feel so sharp-tipped and rough? My dreamy visitor circles around my bellybutton, retracting when I tense. Then he presses his palm against the curve of my stomach, just below my navel. I feel him shiver.

“You’re so warm, so soft,” he remarks lightly. It sounds fond. His nose nudges against me more insistently, and I unconsciously lean back to give him more space. There’s a pleased rumble, not unlike the purr of a big cat. Then my visitor’s breath centers on my sluggish pulse point, his mouth yawning wide and something jagged and dangerous pressing against the most vulnerable part of me.

Predator, my mind screams behind the wall of dreamy incoherence.

I want to wake up now, I think. But I can’t. I’m like a diving bell at the bottom of the ocean. There’s only darkness around me, only weight holding me down.

Then he pulls back.

The scratchy pads of his fingers linger on my tummy for a moment before they too retreat.

“You should wake up now,” the phantom advises as he plants a lingering kiss to the place he’d just had between his jaws. “It’s dangerous out here.”

The mystery man’s presence pulls away, but doesn’t entirely leave. I still feel him nearby. That rough hand of his reaches out to cup my cheek. He’s so very, very tender as his thumb wipes away the condensation from my skin.

Just like that, he’s gone.

The haze in my mind vanishes at the abrupt splash nearby, and I jolt back awake. All of my senses return to me in a thunderous clap of sight, sound, touch, taste, and smell. Whatever fog had descended is lifted. Pressing a hand against my heaving chest, I push to sit up in the hot tub.

That… didn’t feel like a dream.

That felt so terribly real.

Gasping, choking, shaking, I peer over the rim of the tub, searching for evidence that my nighttime visitor had really come and gone.

There are wet footprints leading in a neat trail across the dock. Until they disappear at the edge of the ocean.

There’s only the sound of the waves—ever ebbing and flowing—and my panicked breaths.

My dolphin friend is completely silent today. It’s a detail that I barely notice as I book it for the harbor.

It’s still early enough that I can catch Takuma before he goes out to sea!

The youngest Ino sibling has waders on—colored bright orange for visibility—and his signature bandana covering his brown hair in preparation for work today. I’ve caught him in the middle of loading up his gear, which takes even longer now that he’s a one-man crew. Thankfully, his vessel is small enough to run with just a single person. But that means he’s strapped for time and raring to get out to sea as early as possible.

He needs to get out and start casting his net before everybody else leaved the harbor and makes off with his money. Especially with the fish seemingly becoming scarcer and scarcer.

Unfortunately, I have bigger worries. Namely: my sanity. I follow behind as he carts boxes onto his boat, trying to keep step as I tell him about what happened last night. It feels ridiculous, telling him about the trancelike state I’d been in and the mysterious phantom who’d ghosted his way in and out of my life.

Of course, he doesn’t believe me at all. Not that I blame him. The story is pretty wild.

“I’m not lying, Takkun!” I call out to my cousin’s retreating back.

The dock is busy this morning, awash with the hustle and bustle of people getting ready for a day at sea. We have to bob and weave between the milling crowd. I almost trip a couple of times in the dimness of the pre-morning light. The sun is just barely peaking over the horizon as the final fleeting hours of twilight come to a close. With perfectly clear skies on the radar, the fishing bodes to be fruitful.

It’d be the perfect start to a day, had I slept at all the night before.

“There was somebody on my dock last night!” I exclaim. Then I realize just how public this conversation is and lower my voice, trying not to alert all the others nearby. “Please believe me! I’m freaking out, here!”

Takuma stops abruptly, and I almost collide with his back. The younger man turns around to look at me, his brown eyes skeptical. He sighs, runs a hand through his unruly hair. It’s getting long, I notice. The strands almost touch his shoulders. I should cut it soon.

“It’s not that I think you’re lying, Sis. I’m sure you think you saw something. But you said it felt like a dream. Let me get this straight… So, this random guy—whose voice you don’t recognize, despite living in a village with less than a hundred people—just waltzes up to your house, talks to you for a bit, then jumps into the ocean? And you couldn’t move the whole time? I dunno. Sounds like a dream to me.”

“There were footprints leading down the dock,” I hiss.

“Maybe you were sleepwalking again and they were yours.”

I growl at him in frustration. “That was one time, and I was five, Takkun! I haven’t sleepwalked in years. There was really somebody creeping around the house!” I hold his gaze. “It really freaked me out, okay? So, can you please come by and check it out when you get off work?”

“You know I have a date tonight, Sis. I can’t just blow her off to go looking for monsters under your porch. I mean, it’s our two-year anniversary.”

Right. His date with Akari. I completely forgot.

“Please, Takkun? Please, just come over for a few minutes. Then you can leave, okay?”

His demeanor softens at my sincerity. And he rubs the back of his neck, where days spent working outside in the sun have tanned his skin.

“Fine, fine,” he agrees resignedly. “I’ll swing by and see if I can’t catch your sea monster.” My shoulders lift as weight disappears from them. “But you have to take me out to dinner tomorrow as repayment.”

“That’s totally okay with me! You’re the best! Thank you, Takkun!” I chirp, planting a kiss on his cheek, which he frantically tries to rub off like we’re children again and I have cooties.

It’s not four hours later that my cousin keeps his promise to investigate my home. He arrives windblown from operating a boat, and covered head to toe in dried sweat and ocean spray. I greet him at my front door, then lead him to my private dock.

While I recount what’d happened the night before, he kneels down and looks at the tub like he’s trying to put an image to my words. The footprints have long since dried, but I remember exactly where they were. I point out the path that my mysterious visitor had taken, right up to where he’d jumped into the water.

“And you didn’t see a boat last night?” Takuma asks, peering into the water.

I shake my head.

He frowns. “Well, you’re too far outside of town for somebody to swim to the dock. Not to mention how dangerous it would’ve been with the tides coming in. I doubt anybody would want to risk it just for a prank. You have a pretty clear view of the ocean, too, so it’s unlikely that they escaped into the water without being seen. They would’ve had to come up for air at some point. Unless they had gills,” he adds sarcastically.

“The footprints led to and from the water, Takkun. Whoever he was, he came and went by way of water. Like the Creature from the Black Lagoon.”

Takuma nods like he’s taking in all the information and analyzing it.

“Okay, so we know it’s a he. You said you didn’t recognize the voice, right? Then it’s unlikely it was somebody from the village. And there are no strange visitors staying at the inn.” The young fisherman crosses his arms as he stares me down. “So, who could it have been?”

“I have no idea,” I confess, throat tight.

He sighs, scratching the short stubble at his chin. “I can stay the night tonight, if that’ll make you feel better. But I really think that you need to consider that this was just a dream.”

Maybe he’s right. I mean, nothing about the whole situation makes any sense. A mysterious stalker climbing out of the ocean and putting me under some sort of spell—what am I? Eight?

God, I feel stupid, letting my imagination run wild with me. I called him away from his date prep for this. The heels of my palms dig into my eyes like I’m trying to rub away the afterimages of my wild nightmare last night.

“I’m sorry, Takkun,” I mutter. “I don’t mean to be a pain. Honest.”

“You’re not a pain, Sis. I get that you were freaked out, but it was just a dream.” He walks over to me, places his hands on my shoulders. Takuma’s warmth and weight are reassuring. He gives me a comforting squeeze, offering me a smile. “Hey, I know you were scared, but it’s okay. I can come over after the date, maybe stay the night? No boogeymen will try anything with me guarding you!”

I shake my head, reaching up to pat one of his large hands. “No. I’m fine now. I’d hate to take you away from Akari. Especially on such an important night.”

“If you’re sure…”

“I am. Now go get ready. Take a shower, Takkun. You smell like fish, and that won’t get you laid tonight.”

My cousin sputters, turning several different shades of red at once. He jerks away like I’ve burned him all while I cackle like a madwoman at his discomfort. Oh, he’s too easy to fluster.

Takuma leaves after trying to rearrange my ribs with the force of his bear hug.

And he returns in the middle of the night with some of his mother’s homemade fried chicken and an arm full of movies, still wearing some of his nicer clothes. I ask him how his date went, and he tells me about going out to eat with Akari at some fancy place an hour away. The two lovebirds had followed up dinner with a tour of the botanical gardens. He uses his whole body to illustrate just how big and beautiful some of the plants were, and brings out his phone to show me when words won’t do it justice.

I feel so very, very bad for pulling him away from his night out.

But when I apologize, he waves me off. “Akari understands. She sends her love,” is all he has to say before I pull him into a hug that’s almost strong enough to compete with his.

He and his girlfriend are so unwaveringly good that it hurts sometimes.

My adopted cousin and I spend the rest of the evening in contented silence, watching some endearingly bad sci-fi B-movie from the sixties. He lets my head rest against his shoulder, keeping a strong arm hooked over me. And when he starts to drift off, his cheek comes to rest against my temple.

I wake up the next morning with a crick in my neck and Takuma gone. But I feel a lot better than I had.

Takuma left a note on my fridge, I realize when I get up to reheat the leftover chicken.

‘Lock your door tonight. I’ll come by later to check on you. P.S. Give Micchan a call. She’s being a freak.’ Eyeing the sloppy words on the ruled paper, I let out a little chuckle. ‘Micchan’ and ‘Takkun’ are both freaks. Akemi and Takuma are both such worrywarts.

Though, in this case, it seems pretty justified.

Maybe the other night was really just a dream, I think. Maybe I’m just working myself up over nothing.

But I’m not so sure.

The next day, I treat Takuma to dinner, as agreed upon by our terms for him staying the night. Of course, ‘dinner’ is a whole sack of pork buns brought from the convenience store. Not a bad meal, considering that the young man scarfs it down like it’s a king’s feast.

We’re on the roof of Mayu’s house, a place that I’d often found myself after the Ino family had taken my sister and I in. Of course, that’d been years and years ago. And now I feel like a dumb teenager again, hiding away from my problems where I feel they can’t find me.

“Akari isn’t missing you?” I ask my companion when he’s done cramming his mouth full of pork bun. “I don’t want to keep you away from her two nights in a row.”

He shakes his head. “Nah. She had a late-night repair. Besides, I said I’d come visit Ma, anyway. You were just another addition, and the more the merrier!”

I snort at his upbeat nature.

Takuma stares up at the sky, planting his hands on the roof’s incline behind him and leaning back. “You aren’t lonely, are you, Sis? I mean, this is the first time you’re staying in that house without anybody else, and—”

“I’m fine,” comes my automatic response. And I wince at how not fine I sound. “Okay, I’m a little lonely. But I’ll get used to it.”

“The nightmare says otherwise. It was bad enough that you though it was real, and that’s concerning,” he points out, fixing a pretty stern look on me. “Y’know, you can always stay with Ma. Or there’s room with me and Akari. You’re always welcome.”

“I know. Thank you, Takkun.”

There’s a moment of silence.

“Do you think that’s why I had that bad dream? Because I’m alone in the house for the first time?”

“Maybe.” He shrugs. “You can always ask Akemi about it; you know she’d love to shrink your head—tries to do it to me all the time.”

Benefits of having a psychologist-in-training big sister, I guess. Maybe I’ll ask her what she thinks of it, just to see if she has any insight. She’s always been smart and perceptive. There might be something to all of this that I’m not seeing.

Maybe it was really all a dream…

Huh…

“Maybe I feel unsafe…”

“You could always try locking the door?” he suggests. “Might bring you some peace of mind.”

“Are you two done being moody?” Comes a strong voice from the second floor balcony. “If so, I could use your help moving the couch so I can vacuum beneath it.”

At that interruption, both of us turn to each other and let out a shared snicker. Mayu, never change, I mentally beg her. Her bluntness is exactly what I need right now.

“Got it, Ma!” Takuma calls back down to his mother. “Be inside in a bit!”

“I guess we’re being summoned?”

“Seems like it.”

And cue the laughter a second time.

Takuma stands up and places his hand sin his pockets. But he makes no move to climb down to the balcony below. Instead, he gazes out at the dark water of the ocean. His face is oddly solemn. It’s so jarring, seeing him so melancholy.

I let the silence stretch between us, afraid of worrying him further.

Then he lets out a huff. “Y’know, it’s always nice when you come visit. But if it’s too much then you can always go back to the city. I know that’s where you want to be, anyway.”

I jolt. “Wh-what gave you that idea?”

He shrugs. “S’why you always go back, right? I mean, I get it. This town isn’t exactly the most lively. And it’s got bad memories for you. I understand if you wanna bail on this trip, especially since your sister isn’t here this time.”

I shake my head at his concern and reach out to tug on his shirt. “I love this place, Takkun. I only go back to the city because of school.” Then I almost whisper the next part. “But, honestly, I’m starting to reconsider if I want to go back again. Maybe I should just drop out of college and come back. Maybe I can work at the convenience store with Yuji and Nobara? That’d be fun, right?”

I offer him a smile. “There aren’t any painful memories here for me, Takkun, only good ones.”

“I want you to stay,” he says frankly. And it’s enough to make me laugh.

“I want to stay here too, you goofball! This is my home. It will always be my home, no matter what.”

“Then why go back at all?”

Why, indeed? I’d wondered that for years now. I’d originally left because my sister was leaving the nest and I didn’t want to be in our parents’ house alone. Not with the ghosts that’d haunted me during the early years without Mom and Dad. Sure, we’d been staying with the Ino family during that time, but it was almost assured that I’d go back to the little yellow house in the cove eventually.

I’d left to grieve and learn to accept their deaths. And maybe somewhere along the way, I’d convinced myself that I was better off in the city, where there was more opportunity. Which is funny, come to think of it, because I’d never been the ambitious sort. The truth is that I was running away. And now that I’m not running, I have no clue why I’m still moving in that direction.

I miss this place so much when I’m away.

“I guess that I was just trying to prove something to myself, that I could finish school and become something more than I’ll ever be here. But more and more, I’m looking for a reason to stay here.” I look up at the sky above and ponder the stars. “Maybe I just need to find contentment here.”

When I look over, the big crybaby had tears rolling down his cheeks and an adorable pout on his lips. I pull him into a hug, patting his back as he sniffles into my hair.

“Takkun… you’re getting your boogers on me.”

He only cries harder. I pat his back, burying my face into his shoulder.

He’s such a goober.

But he’s my goober. My wonderful, thoughtful cousin.

Away from the warmth of Mayu’s home, I feel a little less at ease.

The lock to my door latches shut with a final click. It’s the first time that I’ve ever locked it, the first time I’ve ever felt unsafe enough in my childhood home to really be afraid. Outside, I can see the silvery light of the moon caressing the waves as they roll in. Nobody’s out there.

At least, not that I can see.

Sleep comes to me in fitful bursts punctuated by my paranoid jumping at every little sound. I don’t dream about mysterious men from the sea.

But I think I can hear a sad, sad song coming from the depths of the dark water.

When I wake up, there are no footprints outside of my door, but there are seashells scattered along my windowsills. And I don’t think they’re form Nobara. They’re an offering, I think.

The sight of them leaves me cold. Because whatever thing has set its sights on me is still watching, still waiting. I clutch my blanket around my shoulders to keep the shivers at bay and draw my curtains. I’ll hide away inside, I think.

And I start packing my things to return home to my apartment in the city.

Maybe Takuma’s right. Maybe I need to get away. Just for a bit.

But something makes me reconsider. I’m not sure what it is. But it’s a feeling brewing deep in my gut, an instinctive feeling telling me that if I leave now, I’ll miss out on something important. My suitcase sits in the corner, half-full but not zipped up.

I’ll stay. Just for a bit, I think. And, boy, do I feel like an idiot.

It takes another week for the paranoia to die down.

I’m always, always busy.

I’m rarely home, except to sleep.

During most of that time, I bounce between Takuma’s home with Akemi and Mayu’s house. When I’m not bugging them, I find myself up on the hill working my way through my sketchbook. It’s soothing for my frazzled nerves. I distract myself with phone calls to Akemi, who uses the opportunity to deep dive into a lesson about trauma response with just a little too much enthusiasm.

When I’m not chatting with her, I exchange photos with my sister over private messaging. She’s in a new place every day, it seems. It’s nice seeing her have so much fun and go on adventures. I’d be jealous if I weren’t such a homebody… or if I didn’t get airsick… or seasick.

I’ll forever be tormented with the fact that I was raised by the seashore and still get sick when on a boat.

Nobara occasionally stops in to bother me, usually tugging one of her boys along by the collar of their shirt. She denies bringing me the shells, which makes me a bit uneasy. But there still has to be an explanation, right?

I pull myself into knots trying to think about it rationally.

But the longer I spend without nightmares about strange men coming from the ocean, the more confident I get that it was a one-off. It’s crazy to worry about that kind of stuff, right? Like, there’s no way some bozo decided to brave the rocks just to mess with me. That’s actually stupid.

Right?

I’m second guessing myself more and more, I find.

The shells stop appearing on my dock, and I don’t know whether to be relieved or scared. So, I choose not to think about it at all. After all, it’s probably not that big of a deal. They’re just shells. Nothing to be scared of. I know every person in this village; none of them would ever hurt me.

Full stop.

It’s just a sweet gesture. The person leaving them didn’t know that I’m currently in a downward spiral.

I also notice that my dolphin friend has finally stopped calling out to me, and I find that I’m more hopeful than sad at the development. I hope that wherever they are, they aren’t alone anymore. I sincerely hope that they’re found their family again, and are happy and safe.

It’s the one bright spot in my existential crisis.

But I’ll take what I can get.

I toss and turn, throwing off my blankets as the summer heat seems to get to me even past my air conditioner. I feel… overly hot.

Clenching my eyes closed, I try to will myself into peaceful slumber. And I hear it: a low, mournful wail. A sad, sad sound that I know too well.

“Come to me”, I hear on the winds. There’s a familiar hum thrumming in my chest. It’s like the other night, I realize. It’s like when I’d been in the hot tub. The same gauzy, hazy feeling creeps over my senses like sweet-smelling smoke.

I drift somewhere, halfway between awake and asleep.

Getting up, I unlock my door, despite everything inside of me screaming that it’s a bad idea. I open it with a slow glide.

And I walk.

My feet move of their own accord, led by some unknown compulsion. Where they’re taking me, I have no clue—my eyes are closed. I wander out the back door of my little home and down the dock. Towards the ocean, I almost float. Sand buckles beneath me as I hit the beach. It scrunches between my bare toes, sticks to the places it touches like glue.

There are large rocks, too, digging in to the soft pads of my feet. The momentary discomfort helps gound me.

Then the sand is washed away by water, waves lapping at the grains with each ebb and flow.

The ocean.

I’m in the ocean.

I must be dreaming, right? I’m sleepwalking!

I tell myself to wake up, try everything to jolt myself into consciousness again.

I want to panic, want to scream and run away. But my body, dancing to the tune of my own personal Pied Piper, doesn’t so much as twitch. The underlying fear that I can’t swim is shoved aside for the greater terror that I can’t control myself. I’m at some strange supernatural force’s mercy.

“Come to me,” I hear again, echoing on the tail end of a sad, sad sounding croon.

I hear splashing in front of me, like a great deal of water is being displaced. My breath hitches, and I feel a scream clawing its way out of my chest. There’s more splashing, like something is moving towards me. It’s getting closer and closer.

This isn’t a dream.

This is real.

This is real, and there’s something coming for me.

I’m going to get eaten!

But before I can become overwhelmed by everything, I’m grounded by a warm, gentle touch. A large hand, rough and a bit wet, settles on my cheek. The presence in front of me lets out a soothing croon.

An inhuman sound, I think distantly.

There’s a sense of relief as I’m not immediately eaten by whatever the hell this creature is.

Then there’s a greater sense of surprise as a hot puff of air buffets my chin. “My pretty mate,” a familiar masculine voice whispers with reverence.

And then I’m being kissed.

Warm lips mold against mine. They’re hungry, demanding, devouring. My unseen lover is frantic, like he’s never been touched before and never will be again. Hands grip my hips, pulling me against a strong body. The fingers against my bare skin are rough, and the nails sharp like talons. They brand my skin with their incredible heat. Needing air, I arch away from the kiss. Our lips disconnect, leaving a thing trail of saliva connecting us. It’s messy. Hot. It feels like I’m burning up.

I’m getting dizzy.

Spiraling.

Down.

Down..

Down…

It’s too much.

There’s no air. Or maybe I’m just not breathing anymore.

A hand tangles in my hair, pulls me into another all-consuming liplock. The gasp that I let out is swallowed. And in return, my lover lets out a rumble of satisfaction. His mouth coaxes mine open. The plushness of his pout parts to reveal a set of wickedly sharp teeth.

This is strange, right? Teeth aren’t supposed to be sharp. They’re supposed to be blunt and straight. I run the tip of my tongue along them carefully, afraid of cutting myself on their jagged edges.

Nothing about this is normal, though. I’m in the ocean, kissing some unknown man with passion I’ve never felt before. Things are slowly clicking into place as the dreamlike fuzziness in my head clears a bit. I pull away again, just in time to be swept away in another wave of kisses. I’m gaining control over my body again, I think. The tips of my fingers give an almost imperceptible twitch.

“Open your eyes for me,” comes the gentle command. I oblige, blinking up at the moon overhead. I crane my neck back down, taking in the man before me. “There she is. My good girl,” he praises me, and I tremble.

I can see him, now, the person that’s haunted these last few nights. He’s… well… I wish I could say that he’s monstrous. If anything, he’s so incredibly beautiful that I ache just looking at him. The tone of his skin is pale as porcelain and flawless as far as I can see. His hair is white, I note. Like snow or clouds. It’s slicked to the crown of his head from the water. It’s long, like he’s never had a haircut in his life. I note that it’s tied back with some sort of twine and threated through with shells and sea glass.

It’s his eyes that are the real centerpiece, though. They’re so incredibly blue that they almost glow under the moonlight.

I shiver when they rake over my figure, taking in my sheer nightgown and bare legs.

He looks like any other athletic man from his head to his waist, I note. But below that is where it becomes obvious that he’s not human. I start to hyperventilate, gaze fixated on legs that are covered in patterned scales. It’s too dark to see the color of them, but the swirling scales that twine up his waist are intricate. He has a tail, too, my inner panic chimes in. Like something halfway between a frog and a tadpole.

It’s an unflattering description for somebody so breathtaking.

But still…

Monster.

The dreamlike haze is swept away in the stormy winds of my mounting heartbeat. He must sense my unease, because he’s quick to try to pacify me.

“It’s okay. You’re safe. I have you,” the man tries to cajole me. He places his thumb under my chin, redirecting my attention back to his face. “I won’t hurt you. Never.”

I shake my head with a quick jerk. I don’t believe him. Not for a second. Not when those teeth of his are meant for ripping and tearing, and not when I remember those same teeth clasped around the meat of my shoulder only a few nights prior.

Then I realize that I moved. My body finally obeyed me. To test it again, I will my fingers to twitch. Whatever spell I’m under is rapidly fading. That strange, syrupy feeling is rapidly being replaced by not fear, but anger.

Because how dare this fucking guy?! How dare he stalk me? How dare he invade the sanctity of my home and make me feel uneasy? How dare he use some sort of messed up mind control to put the moves on me?

I’m suddenly wide awake and very much in control.

I boil over. Pulling away out of his grasp, I put an arm’s length between us. And the beautiful bastard watches with an awed look in those surreal blue eyes of his as I break free from his influence. I want to slap him, I think, to knock that smitten look right off of his face.

So, I do.

It only takes an instant.

With my body finally obeying me, I reel back. And I slap the strange fishman across the face. The sound is sharp and vicious, given that our skin is wet. Good. I hope I leave a mark!

“What the hell do you want from me, you creep?!” my shriek echoes into the night.

#fanfiction #read on ao3 #ao3 writer #ao3 fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jjk fanfic #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo x oc #merman gojo #first draft

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jayflying · 4 months ago

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And why is Martyn... Like That? (No Stranger Curses AU)

(Part 1: "The scars that others see.") [Part 2][Part 3]

In hindsight, he almost wants to blame BigB for all of this.

Martyn was just trying to do the good friend thing, being there when he was needed. And if BigB claimed he had received a prophecy guiding him to... wherever Grian had vanished to after Evo? It wouldn't be the first time B had visions. In Martyn's experience, they were pretty damn accurate. And Jimmy, and Pearl… they needed to know. Somehow Martyn knew he needed to be the one to tell them.

(If he'd just known Jimmy was following them he never would've-)

Well, they did find Grian. Found his game, that is. His stupid game and its godforsaken memory blocking.

Martyn realizes sooner than most that it's not a game for any of them. He makes a choice, then; to cast aside his honor, be frugal with his loyalties. He'll sink as low as he has to go, just to stay higher than six feet deep.

Ren was a convenience at first. A bigger, louder threat, one he could easily puppeteer. A bigger threat with a very distinct way of speaking.

Martyn has always been a vocal mimic. No one ever seems to expect how sound is second nature to him. He tests the waters with mob noises at first, and they fall for it every time. From that moment on, he starts to memorize the little details in others' voices. Especially in Ren's. (Maybe if he was paying less attention, he wouldn't have gotten attached.)

But planning and wit can only foresee so much. Bluffs and deception will only get him so far. He can't beg for his life in a false voice when his enemy is an explosion. His cunning doesn't save him when Impulse, that traitor, puts an arrow through his skull. It brings him great satisfaction to return the favor. Satisfaction doesn't get him very far either.

He thinks he might be one of the only people in this ridiculous game that remembers there was a first one.

He travels south. Sets out his alliances quickly. Tries not to rock the boat. He remembers what these people are like when they're angry - well, most of them - and he knows now how desperately he does not want unnecessary enemies. He hides in plain sight. Makes sure to be nothing but helpful. (They can't prove any of the thefts were him.)

A little voice in his head warns him over and over exactly how this will end. In secret, he's already laying out his backup plans.

As much as he cares, Jimmy is a liability. Impulse's heart lies with whoever can keep it in his chest, and he can't even blame the man for that. (Will not blame, but will not forgive.) Grian is so fond of chaos, it's almost malicious. And Martyn doesn't recognize anything about Mumbo, which is dangerous enough in itself.

Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. The Shadow Alliance serves him better anyway. They all know where they stand. Better to be hesitantly trusted than lovingly betrayed.

…He spends a lot of time alone, these days. Sometimes he goes days at a time without seeing anyone else out in the woods. It's not that it gets to him, but— he talks to himself a little more than he used to. At some point he decides not to be ashamed of it anymore, at least when he's in private, because if it's the only thing that can bring him any joy in this stupid game — if it's the only way he'll ever hear any of their voices again — then it's worth it.

He makes his final stand at the highest mountain peak, glowing in the firelight, surrounded by all the spirits of the dead. It's poetic, for his downfall to be so literal. In some bittersweet way, he likes it.

The thing that gets back up again isn't entirely himself. He can feel a presence pressing up against his mind. Whispering to him, the way the Boogeyman curse once did. But this time it doesn't bother to hide its orders beneath false logic and pretty words.

Kill the one that has defied me, it orders, spitting each word like poison. It leaves no room for hesitation or resistance. Martyn can feel in every fiber of his being just how helpless he is. He speaks its lies with a smile, even as his hands tremble with desperation.

In the end, he falls to a so-called mistake. An explosion of his own making, badly misplaced. In the brief moment between anticipation and oblivion, he meets Scott's eye just long enough to plead.

Stay.

Martyn is so tired of feeling alone.

#no stranger curses au #trafficblr #third life #last life #inthelittlewood #yeah this ran long so I had to split it in half #fanfic #and still I ponder #why is martyn Like That #canon life series martyn is a tragedy and a menace and in the nsc au I just went “okay but what if he was more of that."

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clockworkouroboros · 1 year ago

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Now that the 60th anniversary specials are all out, I guess I'm gonna share my thoughts about them all, because it's the internet or whatever. Overall, I do think there's a lot of good in these specials. The fan service is absolutely there, but it's been done in a different way than some of the past special episodes, and it really acknowledges I think the many different kinds of Doctor Who fans, from the people who just watch the revived series (or even just bits and pieces of the revived series) to fans of Classic Who and even those of us crazy enough to get into the extended universe. I mean, featuring Beep the Meep and the Toymaker as your two Big Villains is both ridiculous and speaks to the nature of Doctor Who fans that we were all so excited for them. So. A lot of really nice things about these specials all around.

In The Star Beast, we got a really nice blend of nostalgia for the original Tennant era with new, interesting characters and a healthy amount of fan service towards Beep the Meep's half a dozen fans. Between those three things and RTD's obvious love letter to and heartfelt (if perhaps a little clunky) support of queer (and especially trans) people, it's easy to look past the episode's flaws; namely, that it's very light on the plot, and the handwavey bullshit that retcons Donna losing her memories completely undercuts the emotional heavy hitting of Donna losing her memories. You mean it was *always* that easy? Fuck right off.

Wild Blue Yonder really brought in, for me, more than a hint of Wilderness Years Who. The bottle episode slightly claustrophobic feel, the terrifying unexplainable Not-Things, the goddamn salt—I thought this story was the strongest in the set. I think RTD, like many writers, has a tendency to try and make things bigger and bigger and bigger, when really, his best stories tend to be like this. Consider Midnight as another example—brilliant, terrifying, and also very similar to some of the more experimental stories of the wilderness years. If I had a complaint about this story, it's that I would want it to play into more of the sense of sensory deprivation that stories like Midnight and Scherzo did. But honestly, that's a nitpick. It infuriates me a little bit—RTD likes to go in for some spectacle, as seen in The Star Beast and especially in The Giggle (and also the s3 and s4 finales, and also DT's regeneration story, and also and also and also)—but some of his best work is done when he doesn't allow himself the spectacle and instead really pares everything down to the barest of bare bones.

And, honestly? The Giggle was a bit of a letdown. There are so many ways you could bring the Toymaker into Who again, and he ended up sort of being an afterthought. Neil Patrick Harris was obviously having a grand old time in the role, which is great—so why not give him a little more to chew on? I thought there was a lot that was great—Donna and the Doctor in the Toymaker's domain, as an example. I think, building off of Wild Blue Yonder, coming back again and again to just how much the Doctor has been through and how that has affected them, was also a really nice thing to include, and something that I wish had been brought up more during Thirteen's run, because she really went through it.

But that also brings me to my biggest issue with The Giggle, and that is the way David Tennant's Doctor (Fourteen? TenThree? TenTeen?) has been written in a way that still is overshadowing Ncuti Gatwa's Doctor. This was honestly one of my biggest concerns as soon as Tennant's return was announced, and one of RTD's past issues in Who has been his chronic overshadowing of characters of color in favor of a white fan favorite. (Martha and Mickey both get this treatment.) The regeneration scene pissed me off in a way that I didn't think Doctor Who could piss me off—generally speaking, I'm pretty level-headed about most Doctor Who things because this show is ridiculous enough that you sort of have to just roll with it. I already adore Ncuti's Doctor (from his extremely limited amount of screentime), but I can't help but feel that he's been cheated out of a proper introduction because he had to share his limited screentime with David Tennant, the most popular Doctor to ever exist in the show's 60-year history. Likewise, because of this ridiculous Journey's End 2: This Time It's Stupider nonsense, I'm genuinely concerned RTD will randomly bring DT back for some fun multi-Doctor fanwanks, and sort of write all over the first Doctor of color's era with David Tennant. Not that that will happen (I certainly hope not, anyway), but the fact that he's leaving it open as an option already has me worried.

So. Yeah. Maybe I'm being harsher on RTD than I would otherwise be, because the nostalgia for having him back is so ridiculously high that it's driving me a little insane, or maybe these are genuine issues. I'm not upset that he's back, but these specials—and especially The Giggle—left me extremely wary that we're going to get the same exact issues that he brought to Who in his first run. Overall it'll be fine, and again, I did get a lot of enjoyment out of these specials! There's a lot about RTD's writing that is objectively both good and consistent. That doesn't mean I'm not holding my breath going forward.

#dw spoilers #the star beast #wild blue yonder #the giggle #russel t davies #doctor who #fourteenth doctor #fifteenth doctor #sorry for the wall of text #and a reminder to everyone that you do NOT have to agree with anything that i say even a little!#i genuinely am not trying to shit on rtd i'm just concerned #so. yeah.

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crackinglamb · 1 year ago

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7 snippets, 7 mutuals

Tagged by @theluckywizard, thank you! 💕

Tagging @lilbittymonster, @ir0n-angel, @mordinette, @fogsblue, @pikapeppa, @natsora and @the-desert-dancer. No pressure!

...I actually have almost the right number of WIP's to just use those, but I'll include some posted stuff too. And being super, super long, I'll put it all under a cut.

From WG, ch 63 (Solas/OFC, complete):

“Tell me something of your world, arasha.”

“My parents got divorced when I was ten. That means they permanently ended their marriage. I lived most of the time with my mom, but I spent summers at my dad's. He married again when I was thirteen. Jill, my stepmother, likes to garden.” She shifted away from him as she spoke, rinsing the soap from her back while he watched, listening intently. She took the soap back from him and turned him around, so she could return the favor.

“She planted herbs and vegetables that grew easily where we lived, peas, beans, tomatoes, that sort of thing. But she planted flowers too. I used to help her when I was younger, pulling weeds from the rose bed, trying not to get snagged on the thorns. In the evenings, we'd sit on the back deck and watch the wildlife in their yard. Sometimes there were hummingbirds that came and sipped from her bee balm. They're so tiny, no bigger than a butterfly. And they're quick and shy. You have to stay really quiet if you want to watch them. It always gave us a thrill to see them, especially late in the summer, when they were teaching their fledglings to fly.”

She cupped water in her hands to rinse away the soap and ignored the sting in her eyes. He was motionless under her touch, his head cocked, still listening. “My world is filled with technology, with busyness and noise and everyday chaos. To sit in the garden, perfectly still, to watch hummingbirds takes time and patience. A mindfulness to appreciate nature that isn't the least bit affected by the world around it.” She made a final pass of clean water over his back and then laid her palm against his skin, feeling him breathe. “I haven't seen any hummingbirds here.”

He turned in her arms and drew her close. She rested her head on his heartbeat and let him smooth back her curls, pressing the water out of them until they were springy. “We shall have to find them, you and I.”

From Junkyard Dogs, ch 14 (Hancock/F!SS, complete):

When the music was done, and settlers began drifting off one by one to seek their beds, Nora took his hand and walked with him to the quiet spot where they’d buried Nate. A simple small plinth marked it.

“There are no rituals left,” she said, grazing her fingers over the cut stone, “to mark the passing of those we’ve lost. No comfort in faith, no tokens of remembrance. In this new world, a cemetery is only a place you’ll likely find ferals. The meaning behind it has been lost.” He stood quietly by her side, wondering what she was getting at. “I didn’t want that for Nate. I don’t want that for myself.”

She faced him then, and he could see she’d been crying silently, the tears steaking down her cheeks. He wiped them away with his thumb. She took his hand and pressed something small and warm into it. When he looked, he saw it was a ring of gold.

“Nora…”

“I want you to wear it, and I want you to understand what it symbolizes. It is the union of two people, who have agreed to commit themselves to each other.” She held up the hand bearing the ring’s twin. “I don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow, any more than I knew what was going to happen that day we stepped into the Vault. So much of my life has ended, or changed beyond recognition. But this idea, at least for me, has not. I once had a dream of spending my life with the man I loved, of raising a family with him, of living out our lives together in harmony and happiness. And it was stolen from me, by Kellogg, by the Institute. Nate is gone, but the dream is not.”

From The Turning Tide (Iron Bull/OFC, WIP):

Mira ducked into her tent to find Bull propped on his elbow on her bedroll, the journal where she’d taken all her notes spread across his hands. It was all in shorthand, of course, the same one she’d used for years working for Leliana. She wasn’t sure if he could read it. She was equally unsure about whether or not she wanted him to. It would make things easier for her as far as explaining what she’d seen, but the disadvantage was that he could send back a far more detailed report to his superiors than she thought she wanted him to have access to.

“How’d he take it?” Bull asked. She would think it was absently given his tone of voice, but she knew him. Half blind or not, he never missed a thing.

“Academically. I don’t think the whole weight of it has hit him yet,” she replied, plucking the journal from his hands as she sat down in the space between his arms. He took the tacit invitation and wrapped them around her. Solid, strong and real. She leaned back against his chest and he held her up. She closed the journal and waved it at him. “Let Sister Nightingale see it first, okay? Then I’ll give you something to report back to Par Vollen.”

“Hmm. How bad was it, Chestnut?”

“In your own words, it wasn’t pretty. And you were right, it wasn’t.”

“Was it a good death?”

“No.” She let her voice turn flat. Because there was no universe in which what happened to him was a good thing. “It was only the best you could make it.”

From Destiny Is Just In the Timing (Varric Tethras/Shae Cadash, WIP):

Hawke was still tacking up when she reached him. He smiled down at her. “You don’t have to see me off.”

“Yes, I do.”

His smile turned a little melancholy, as if he was remembering that morning too. The day he left Kirkwall and she stood in the snow to watch him go. “I suppose there’s a precedent set.”

“Yes.”

He finished packing his mount and knelt down to her. They embraced as tightly as they could bundled up as they were. Fereldan he might be, but even Hawke wore a coat in these mountains. When he stood again, it was with reluctance, the first he’d shown since announcing his intention to leave them. But the decision was made, and none of them could change it now. Weisshaupt was expecting him.

“I’ll see you again, Inquisitor. This isn’t goodbye.”

“I will hold you to that, Champion.” She watched him get into the saddle and made way for the scouts who would be going with him down the trail. Before they left, however, he turned to her a final time and she called up to him. “Write to Fenris. Living, not just surviving, remember? Promise me.”

“I promise.”

“Fair weather and open roads, Garrett.”

“And to you, Shae.”

From Right Beside You (Eric/Sookie, WIP):

“You don’t entirely trust me, but you’re not afraid,” he said. Again, it was an observation, not a question. “My house. My things. Yours.” He cocked his head at her. “Are you mine?”

“I’m not.”

“Would you like to be?”

She opened her mouth to give him an automatic ‘no’, but the phrasing made her pause. His tone was so genuine, so earnest. He was actually asking, as if her opinion mattered to him. As if he would respect her wishes, no matter what they were. He seemed to realize that this was something more serious than an offhand inquiry, and let her go. But he didn’t move away, and neither did she. He always loomed over her, he was so tall and broad. And he was accustomed to using his size to intimidate. In all their years of acquaintance, she’d never let it bother her, and that had always seemed to entertain him. So many people feared Eric Northman. She often wondered if that was part of her appeal to him. She had never been one of them.

From Not a Bad Life? (Nine/Rose, WIP):

“Hey, come sit with me. Wearin’ out the floor isn’t going to get us out of here any faster.”

He grumbled a bit, but then he sat behind her, pulling her into the meager shelter of his body heat. They shifted the leather around so it covered her front while he was at her back. His knees rose beside hers and he leaned against the wall. They had a pair of bunks on the other side and a tiny toilet behind a screen, and that was it for the night’s accommodations. She supposed it could be worse; they hadn’t been separated.

She nestled against his hearts, listening to the double thump. As always, it soothed her. “We’ve gotten out of worse scrapes than this.”

“I know. I just don’t like being forced to wait around.”

“You’re so impatient.” Superior Time Lord, indeed.

“Aye.”

She stifled a snicker at the Northern coming out so strongly. “Ya know, you could always try resonating the concrete.”

He huffed against her hair. “Never gonna live that down, am I?”

“Nope. Hey, want you to know something. I wouldn’t trade any of the danger we’ve faced. You know that right?”

“Why not?”

“Because in exchange for it, I got you. You’ve shown me all these things, shown me a better way to live. To be. I wouldn’t give it up for anything. You’ve changed my life.”

From All the Earth and Air series (Lark Cadash/M!Hawke; Lark/Solas, WIP):

Hawke was surrounded by everyone who could fit into the tavern, telling tales and drinking more than a few tankards, judging by the empty ones littering the table. She pushed her way through the crowd, bringing two more with her. He made room for her next to him, sitting sideways on the bench so she was bracketed by his knees even with a polite distance between them. She made sure he ate.

Later, when the tales were all told and the bard was playing soft music to lull the patrons into peacefully finding their beds, they found themselves in a dark corner, nursing one last tankard each.

“Does it come off?” she asked, indicating the stripe of red across his nose and cheeks with a pointed finger. He swiped his thumb over it, grimacing behind his hand for a moment before looking back to her with his typical insouciant expression.

“Are you trying to get under my armor, Lark?” he asked with a sloppy sideways grin and another gulp of his ale.

She smiled back, soft and small, like a private joke. “Bare skin is honest. I have enough masquerading going on around me.”

“And all of them either too in awe of the title or too terrified of your mark to let it fall?”

“Yes.”

He made an effort to sit up straighter, to even out the crookedness of his commiserating look. “I'd ask if you wanted to go to your place or mine, but...well...” He gestured around at the tavern, and the fortress at large. “It seems to all be yours, doesn't it?”

“Come with me,” she said, standing up with barely a wobble and offering her hand to him.

From Some Kind of Resolution, ch 1 (FemShep/Nihlus Kryik, complete):

“Isn't henna a type of ink?”

“Yes, it is. I'm surprised a turian would know that, no offense.”

He gestured at his face. “Call it something that stands out culturally, as a form of marking.”

She nodded, thinking about the N7 tattoo on her upper arm. “Okay, I get it. In my case, it's just short for Jehanne.”

He was giving her a thorough look now. “Jehanne. Would that be Jehanne Shepard?” he asked after a moment.

This is it, she thought. Once they recognize my name, it's all over.

“Yes,” she answered, wary.

“I thought you looked familiar. Commander,” he inclined his head briefly. “You showed remarkable courage and skill at the Blitz. It made you something of a celebrity, didn't it?”

She made a face, equal parts disparagement and accepting. “Yeah.”

“It can be hard to live with.”

“Oh, would you know about that?”

“Some. Turians don't place the same sort of entertainment value on our heroes. Doing one's duty should be enough of a reward. You humans love to gossip, though, and put people on pedestals, if that's the right expression.”

“Ah, yes. Meritocracy, right? And yeah, that's the right expression.”

“You're well informed on the Hierarchy.”

“Alliance,” she said with a shrug of one shoulder. “I've studied your race, its history and whatnot. Well, really, we've gotten a crash course on all the races. It's a bit mind boggling, I'll admit. But...fascinating.”

“Hmm, fascinating,” he echoed her, and his voice had distinctly dropped from polite to interested. She wondered what it would be like...

“You wanna stay here and exchange cultural differences or you wanna get out here and experience some?” she asked boldly. His gaze turned calculating, but he smiled just the same. Without another word he signaled for the check.

#tagged #7 snippets; 7 mutuals #long post #dragon age #fallout 4 #southern vampire mysteries #dr. who #mass effect

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megashadowdragon · 1 year ago

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youtube

Brok - The True Measure of a Man

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The thing about Sindri is that he and Brok make the perfect blacksmiths because, in my eyes, they represent the forge itself. Brok is a steady and dependable rock for Sindri. The rock surrounding the fire, directing and focusing Sindri in a way no one but Brok can. And when he is gone all that Sindri has is his fire, feelings much bigger than he is that consume him. I think this is reflected when Brok is dying by the background, the forge disappears leaving just the flames burning alone.

Sindri changing from being this clean freak to a man that just does not give a fuck. All covered in filth and grime. Just shows that the fire within him is out of control. He lost his brother, forever, gone, no more. I do not blame him for his anger. He has every right to be angry in grief. Just who he blames. I hope to see Sindri return some day. If there is a some day. As we need an ending to that story. Sindri's story is not over. Either be acceptance of what happened. Or somehow bending fate and the will of creation. Sindri pulls off to bring his brother back a second time. Even after being told his soul was lost. Never know. Personally, I am more in favor of acceptance. To see that fire be self-contained and self-control.

much like Kratos, once upon a time.

Also that in a forge you need to temper the weapons to treat them right and make them strong. When we see sindri and he's calling us out, he hits the sword with a hammer without it being treated. He also hits harder where the hammer will eventually break the blade. Just as his sanity and he himself.

It’s also worth noting that when you first meet Brok, he offers to upgrade the Leviathan axe for two complete strangers and was a gift made by him and his brother for Faye, who was a great warrior and friend. I like how this can be interpreted as Brok quickly piecing together who Kratos and Atreus were to Faye and what might have happened to her without stirring up a commotion like Sindri and Durlin and shows how much more perceptive Brok is than we’re initially led to believe.

Ooh, yes! He noticed that Kratos could throw and summon the Leviathan Axe, which must mean Kratos couldn't have simply stolen it from Faye, he was attuned to it.

In Sindri and Durlin's defense, they just saw the axe strung on Kratos' back. I bet if they saw it return to him they'd have known he had Faye's blessing to wield it.

@quietone2674 there’s also the matter of Brok knowing Faye and her nature. Even if he hadn’t seen Kratos use the axe he would still have known that it couldn’t have been taken from her by force. Remember he knew that Faye was in Midgard and that she had used the axe to go toe to toe with Thor once. If someone tried to take the ax it would’ve brought about a natural disaster that a blind and deaf hermit couldn’t have missed.

hm…good point. While Kratos probably could've taken it by force if they weren't together, he'd absolutely have caused noticeable destruction doing it.

Faye was also evenly matched to Thor, who wields Mjolnir, confirmed to rival a nuke, and both Kratos and Thor fought Faye to a draw.

This is actually a really good point. Sindri of course says "i would be displeased IF you did something to her!" He is kind of assuming giving he attempts to 'put up a fight' but he is leaving it open to finding out that the ax wasn't stolen. Durlin on the other hand basically just proclaims kratos Faye's killer off hand (though to be as fair as we can to durlin kratos does have mimir also strapped to his belt.) What i think this also helps reinforce is Brok's artistic acumen because He is very detail oriented. Sindri points out he sees a lot of faye in Atreus' eyes. So Brok was able to put together, Kid and Adult, both male, Adult has Faye's ax, big dude probably a real fighter, Kid has a gentle demenior and, those eyes. Putting together everything he can see and hear, it was probably easy to realize Kratos and Faye had Atreus. He might also of noticed the sack on the back of Kratos' belt and realized that was likely her ashes.

At the beginning of the Tyr scene, I like that everybody is getting all excited over planning the big final battle. Its like planning an awsome party for tomorrow, you feel that sense of anticipation, those butterflies in your stomach. But Brok stays calm. Doesn't rush it. Everybody else, caught up in the rush, skips over the fine details, the contradictions. But not Brok. Because Brok is an artist. He doesn't rush stuff and always pays attention to the fine details.

To the first question of "How did Brok know, and nobody else did?" Mimir is very smart, but when he's happy he often turns off some of his logic, meaning he was so happy to see Tyr alive he turned off his skepticism. Atreus is Atreus, he doesnt know much about this kind of stuff. Sindri assumes the best in everyone. Freya just didnt suspect it. Kratos is very skeptical, but on topics he doesnt know much about like Odin or Tyr, he trusts the people who do know much about them, like Mimir who was also fooled. Brok never drops any suspicions, which is confirmed by the fact that even at the end of GOW4 he still was rough towards Atreus and Kratos.

“It’s the NATURE of a thing that matters, not it’s form.” -Brok “Fake Tyr”, may have had Tyr’s form, but NOT his nature.

Brok is a perfect example of one of my favorite tropes: The Reliable One.

He's the one that people go to the most to the point they take him for granted. He'll walk into hell, pull through when you need him in a pinch, and until you lose him, you'll never realize just how much you depended on him.

11:45 its more subtle, but Sindri expresses an appreciation for the blades, too. If you have him upgrade the blades or their hilts, he'll say things such as, "No, thank YOU." "Always a pleasure to work on these." or "The honor is all mine." Or, "So sharp. So, so sharp!" The only reason Brok got the cutscene reacting to the Blades is because he happens to be the first one you run into after getting them.

I feel like brok saw through Odin because Odin’s con job depends on people being too polite to poke too many holes in his story, a problem that brok doesn’t have

Exactly Brok is always bluntly honest unlike Odin who is cruelly deceitful yet uses honesty as a veil

Yeah I thought so too but I don’t think Brok saw it until right before he was killed. He didn’t suspect anything of Tyr beforehand, but when he was being all weird right before the reveal he had no issues probing & calling Tyr/Odin on the carpet for his lies.

Brok is the perfect antithesis to Odin. Honest to the point of bluntness, confident without being arrogant, doesn’t feign affection but is genuine with those he considers friends, feels no need to prove how smart or important he is, etc.

It is unsurprising that it’s Brok who sees through the BS before anyone else, and therefore is the one that gets under Odin’s skin and causes him to act rashly.

Brok is an artist, his tool of choice is the hammer not the brush nor the chisel, he strikes true, when the iron is hot and he embodied his tool perfectly. Blunt, gruff and perfect for what he is, just as the hammer is heavy so too is my heart at his loss but to remember the fallen for the empty space they leave is to discount the artistry that they leave behind, the blessing of the Draupnir Spear, the Leviathan Axe and the friends that were made along the way.

Little detail I just remembered, in the scene after getting Draupnir when Kratos meets Odin, Odin specifically says that he's "never much cared for Brok." If Brok is the most honest character, the one whos honesty cuts through Odins bullshit, of course Odin "wouldn't care for him."

"I trust Brök, he speaks plain" "Aye, and vulgar too" I love this bit, nature vs form. Kratos understands that Brök's manner of speaking comes from complete honesty, his nature is to never give the disrespect of lying. Even when he's at his most disrespectful he gives you the respect of saying it blunt. Kratos sees the respectful nature of the honesty. Everyone else sees the form, swearing, vulgarity, and mean comments or jokes.Show less

#god of war ragnarok #god of war ragnorak #god of war brok #gow brok #Youtube

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eofoc · 5 months ago

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🌿﹕ANGE LAZARUS

──── You gave me a sweet lie that “it’s ok to be a coward”, have I been able to escape?

Full name : Ange Ignate Lazarus

Name notes : means “angel” in french, got his second name after his mothers late first husband

Pronouns : he / him

Gender : male

Species : half-vampire

Age : 19

Birthday : December 1st, 793

Height : 178 cm

Often referred to as the “other Lazarus sibling”. He certainly isn’t as popular with the public as his sister is, and he chooses to isolate himself by staying in his lab most of the days. Most people think he’s unfit to be the head of the family, and show his sister favorable treatment. It doesn’t seem like that phases him much. After all, he’s very well aware of the poor reputation his father has. Moreover, people are aware that he’s a half-vampire, and often suspect him of being an actual vampire instead.

PERSONALITY

Ange is a charming person who loves being the center of attention. He knows how to capture everyone’s attention, often using exaggerated mannerisms and interjecting himself into the conversation without any shame.

People often dislike him, viewing him as arrogant and unlikable. He has a competitive nature and often uses backhanded compliments or irony to jab at people he doesn’t like. His humor often masks deeper insecurities and the constant need for validation.

He finds it very hard to drop the facade, even in the company of people he cares about, which often leaves them feeling hurt and not worth his trust. Despite all that, he’s very empathetic and can be caring, albeit in an inexperienced way.

BACKSTORY

Unlike his sister, Ange was the result of a political marriage. This made his mother resent him from the moment he was born, especially since he got his father’s piercing green eyes. His mother treated him like a stranger, while his father only used him as a tool to gain more power in the Lazarus family. He had very high expectations for him, but quickly gave up on showing his son any affection when Ange hadn’t lived up to them.

While Juliet and Ange were very close as children, they slowly started drifting away because of their parents. Ange clung to the only friend he had at the time - Yuze. Since the young boy was the only person who understood him and didn’t shun him, he became very attached to him. However, the revolution happened, leaving Yuze resenting him for something he didn’t do. It also had bigger consequences for him - since his father was the leading force behind the revolt, his position and treatment only got worse. Suspected of being a vampire, he got locked in a dark room for days on end until it was proven that he’s indeed human.

He grew up isolating himself from everyone, spending most of his time in his lab, where he focused on botany and biology. It quickly became his passion and a specialty of his. Perhaps due to his experiences in his childhood and his father, he also became obsessed with vampirism and started researching it very intensely. During those years, the loneliness made him experience more and more suicidal thoughts.

When Juliet entered high society, he once again started feeling intense jealousy for everyone favoring her over him. He also found out that she was the one who told their mother about Yuze being a vampire, and hasn’t really spoken to her since, feeling betrayed and upset about the fact. While he makes a lot of surface connections, he still fails to get closer to anyone, his thoughts often returning to his childhood friend.

#ange #oc #eofoc #profile #oc profile #eof profile #original character #original characters #ocs #my ocs #worldbuilding #writing #character design #character info #original story #oc story #character concept

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charbear177 · 2 years ago

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5 Signs You're Dealing With A User

The word user has many definitions but in today’s blog, we are discussing people who use other people. These users can be partners, family members, friends, coworkers, and even casual acquaintances. Users are selfish, self-serving, manipulative, and often unkind.

Users prey on the kindness, loyalty, and commitment of others to get what they want while giving very little, if anything at all, in return. Sound familiar? Whether or not you have a big heart, a caring soul, or a philanthropic nature, no one likes to feel like they are being used or taken advantage of. If you feel like you have a user in your life, then this blog is for you. Here are the 5 signs to look for that you have a user in your life.

5 Signs He Is A User

You Only Hear From Users When They Need Something

We all know these people. They never bother to call or message you ever. They never show up to any of your events to show support and are never there if you need assistance or just want someone to talk to. They are always too busy for you but expect you to drop everything when they call or need something. You may almost forget about them but when you see they are calling or messaging you mentally prepare yourself because you already know before you respond that they want something from you.

Users Always Play On Your Emotions

You have a soft heart and tend to be generous, which is why users love you so much. Users love to emotionally manipulate people. They always have lots of problems and their problems are always bigger and more important than yours, according to them. They are masters at guilting people and will sometimes not ask directly for money or favors but instead share their dilemma with you in hopes that you will offer your assistance without them even having to ask for anything.

You Do Not Think They Would Reciprocate For You

Users are not about helping or supporting others. The “user” family member or friend seems to be non-responsive when you reach out or ask something of them. They always have an excuse as to why they are too busy to help you or to attend something you invite them to. Although it is not surprising behavior for a user because they are selfish, you still find it hurtful, especially after all you have done for them over the years.

Users Always Expect A Yes

Users are master gaslighters. You are reluctant to say no to an ask or decline an invite from the user because you know you are likely to feel their wrath in one way or another. They may lash out with unkind words, or make you feel guilty for not being a “better” friend, partner, or family member to them. They may even stop speaking to you or ghost you for a bit, which is not necessarily a bad thing, but of course, the ghosting is only until they need another favor from you.

The User Leaves You Feeling Used and Dejected

After each round of rescuing or supporting the user, you feel worse and worse about yourself. Even though you realize you value your relationship with them more than they do yours, you also feel bad about the thought of dropping them completely from your life.

The important takeaway from this blog is for you dear reader to recognize when you are being used and to give you permission to set boundaries with these individuals. Your answer does not always have to be yes. In fact, sometimes the answer needs to be no for your own mental, emotional, and financial well-being.

One-way relationships are hurtful and toxic and you deserve to have people in your life who want to be there and are not only around when it is convenient for them. Learn to advocate for yourself. Learn to say no. And learn how to recognize when it is time to cut people out of your life.

After reading this blog are you able to identify any people in your life who meet the user criteria? If so, what will you do about it? Will you maintain the relationship, discuss it with them, or cut ties? Please share your thoughts and experience.

“Let today mark a new beginning for you. Give yourself permission to say NO without feeling guilty, mean, or selfish, Anybody who gets upset and/or expects you to say YES all of the time clearly doesn’t have your best interest at heart, Always remember: You have a right to say NO without having to explain yourself, Be at peace with your decisions.” – Stephanie Lahart

#Narcissistic Abuse #emotionally manipulative

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primofate · 4 years ago

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Breaking Up (Part 3-Final) Albedo x gn!reader

Scenario: Breaking up and getting back together again

Characters: gn! reader x Albedo

Warnings: This is the FLUFF part. Not proofread.

Categories: angst in Part 1, comfort in Part 2, Fluff in Part 3

Read: (Part 1) (Part 2)

You hummed a light tune as you walked around fields, gathering herbs from trees and shrubs. The sun was about to set, and it painted a slightly orange hue on the sky.

“Y/N,” You stand and turn, sunsettia gathered around your arms and other herbs in your backpack. Albedo is walking towards you with a soft smile, and you return it with a bigger one. “Albedo,” you pipe up and jog to meet him halfway. He thinks you’re a little bit like a puppy sometimes, it’s just not possible to resist the eyes that look up at him expectantly.

All his fears came crashing down on him once more and he half-panicked.

He wraps one arm around your waist and leans in for a quick kiss on the nose as a greeting, before pulling away and helping you with the sunsettias. “You lost track of time again,” he states and you just laugh sheepishly. “Ah...yeah, I get too into ingredient gathering sometimes...”

Albedo had gotten home and found a note on the table stating where you were. Just like he had requested. Weeks following the two of you getting back together there’d been an incident where he came home and found that you weren’t there yet again.

Had he done something wrong?

Did he say something bad?

Where were you?

Did you leave again?

Only to have you strolling into the house the next moment, smile on your face, saying that you went out to do some shopping. He swept you into a hug that confused you. He was beyond terrified that it might have happened again.

He’d go as far as to say that it was borderline PTSD.

“Can you kindly do me a favor and leave a note if you’ve gone out? It would really... make me feel better,”

And you understood. Perhaps you would’ve felt the same way. If you came home late at night and found that he wasn’t home yet. You’d tend to think that something happened to him, and so you complied to his request.

He’d become a little better at managing his time. He figured Sucrose could handle more responsibilities and figured that he could also work a little bit at home. Readings and research did count as work, the only downside was that he had to borrow books from the library and bring it all the way back home, but he didn’t care much about that. You kept the house so warm and cozy that it was the perfect place to concentrate and be productive.

“Come,” Albedo beckoned you from the chair of his makeshift office at home. You tilt your head, as you were about to leave the tea on his table and leave him to work again but he’d grabbed your hand and tugged you towards him.

“Can I help you?” You asked with a slight grin to your question. He pulls you over to his lap, arms around your waist and has your back flush against his front. His head hovering above your shoulder as he continues his reading as if everything was normal, and as if you weren’t sitting on his lap. “Am I just going to stay here?” You giggle and tilt your head back to look up at him.

A small smile cracks on his face as he shushes you, “Shh, absolute concentration is needed during research, Y/N,” but he lets go of the papers he was holding and leans back into his chair, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. “You’re required to stay until my energy levels are back to normal,”

“And what’s your energy levels now?” You play along with his little game, him starting to pepper kisses on your cheek. “I’m at zero, you’ve only just come in after all,”

Sometimes you wonder if he really gets any work done, but it looks as if he does, and is even more determined to keep researching certain things. Of course, there were still days where he was incredibly busy. But he’d made up for those days by being considerate and aware of the time he spent at work.

“I apologize... It got busy again this week...” he nearly sighs as he wraps his arms around your waist, the same nose kiss as a greeting. You’re a little more understanding of his predicament, but mostly because he communicated more. Where before he would come home and not say anything, now he would apologize and tell you about what was going wrong in his schedule.

And the next day he was free, you’d wake up without worrying about breakfast because he had prepared it--granted he wasn’t the best cook in the world but he knew some recipes--and he knew just how you wanted your coffee or your tea.

Turns out those little things did add up and made everything much easier.

“What’s for dinner today?” He asks as the two of you walk home. You put on a thinking face, “Maybe some cream stew?” the small talk the two of you engage in is peaceful and natural. “Would that be okay?” You glance at him, expecting an answer, but didn’t get any. You blink and turn your head to look at him, he’s lost in thought it looks like. “Albedo?” and he blinks back to turn and look at you. “Yes?”

“I was asking if cream stew was okay,” there’s a slight crease of worry on your eyebrows, but his smile takes it away. “Yes, that’d be nice,” he simply says and for some odd reason, he doesn’t talk about his day today. It’d almost felt like a routine now, how he would tell you what he and Sucrose had been working on, or maybe if Klee barged in again today, or maybe even Kaeya.

He was a little too quiet, and you kept stealing glances at him.

Even as the two of you arrive home and close the door behind you, immediately going towards the kitchen, it was a little tense and you weren’t quite sure why. He had this...frown on his face, but he didn’t look angry. “...Is there something on your mind?” you ask as you start prepping the ingredients.

He visibly stiffens up and just stands there. At this point you know that something is wrong. “Did something happen? Did I say something wrong?” You question as you’re about to wipe your hands on a kitchen towel. He suddenly shakes his head, “No, not at all. I--”

and he starts his story as you put on an apron.

“Kaeya came by today...He says that...” his eyes dart away from you. “That I should consider...getting a ring,” You stop tying the apron around your middle and focus your attention on him. Eyes going a fraction wider. “But I... That is to say... If you would like a ring then I will gladly get you one, Y/N,” you’re not sure where this is going but your heart is starting to patter louder in your chest. “But I just don’t think it would change a thing. A ring is not enough to really tell you how much I...” he pauses and his eyes finally find yours. “How much I adore you. A band around my finger or your finger...can never represent the gratitude,” he emphasizes his next words “the comfort, the love that I have for you,”

It’s starting to feel like there’s an elephant in your throat, and you start to blink a little faster because you don’t want to cry. You just thought it’d be a little silly.

“I just... I hope you’re aware, ring or no ring... My intentions are the same. I don’t plan on spending the rest of my lifetime with anyone else,” you secretly bite your lip, “...It’ll only be you,” and he scratches the back of his neck, tearing his eyes away from you once again, mumbling--and it’s so rare to see him in such a vulnerable state-- “Kaeya mentioned that if I don’t get you a ring... that you might leave... I’m aware he’s not the most trustworthy but... I just... wanted to make sure,”

And despite the few small happy tears that finally cascade down your cheeks you laugh a little, picturing the mischievous glint in Kaeya’s eyes as he tells this to Albedo.

Albedo smiles a little and brushes the few tears that managed to slip out, but you reply to him. “You know how Kaeya is, Bedo,” which translates to ‘don’t listen to him,’. Albedo knows. But when it came to you he wasn’t going to take chances. You contentedly wrap your arms around his middle and he hugs you back around your shoulders as he whispers into your hair. “But you know... Perhaps I should get you a ring, when the time comes,”

“Hm?” You merely murmur, asking about his sudden change in opinion.

“Just to let others know you’re taken,”

Another rumble of laughter lifts from your chest. This time, he joins you.

Taglist: @rim0na @sweeti-pie @yamsthegod @reaped-winnower @hai-q-haikyuu @tkshoki @fanfictionenthusiast @skatercashew @leefletter @kimbapsana @hentaje @marginmaster87 @tempehlust @rinnesy @hallohun @softlybeloved @ssalamanderr @ben6ett @rytszk @guilixi @mondstadts-favourite-traveler @mkazuyuh @ayra2452008 @simpingover @soft-like-sunshine @lnrchii @scheophi @larkspyrr @outlet-0

If I didn’t tag you, it’s cause I couldn’t. Probably something about your settings or your name :)

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#albedo x reader #albedo #genshin impact #genshin #albedo angst #albedo fluff #breaking up part 3 #primofate

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mrsct7567 · 2 years ago

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TESTING THE WATERS PART 2

Pairings

Rex x reader

18+ (minors go away)

Summary

Rex hates himself for what he did to you and to make matters worse he imagines himself with you.

Kriffing pervert! You just had to look didn’t you? Rex slams his face in the palms of his hands. You are a Captain for kriffs sake! You are acting like some horny, hopeless cadet!

He hadn’t been able to remove the image of your bare body from his mind, he was sure you didn't see him gawk at you which he was thankful for, yet still felt the guilt eat away at his insides.

Rex sat on his cot, scratching the back of his neck. He was still without a shirt and he was still wearing his trousers from the lake. He had left after you finished dressing and told him you went back to your own tent for a reason he didn’t really hear since the sound of his own voice screaming at him for what he had done had blocked it out.

You flash in his mind once again. This time you weren’t naked. This time you wore a lovely blue dress the shade of his battalion. You were looking up at him and laughing, crashing into his chest and nuzzling close to him. The scene makes him smile to himself warmly. The thought of being with you made a bubbling feeling he couldn’t quite place, burn deep within his chest.

Another scene changes in his mind. This time you were in a bathing suit, one rather revealing as you ran ahead of him towards the edge of a cliff. You stopped right as you were about to jump and turned around looking back at him.

Kriff you were gorgeous.

Your hair flew around your face as you smiled at him, your joy sparkling in your eyes as you giggled and beckoned him to join you. Rex imagines himself laughing and running to join you, instead of timing a fall together he wrapped his arms around you taking you both down with you letting out a giddy scream. Shielding you with his body as he allowed the water to hit him upon impact.

The scene changes, this one more sensual. You look at him from under your lashes. He's standing with you in what he believes to be what he imagines your apartment back on Coruscant might look like. It's nice, very cozy and warm much like you.

Here he feels safe and protected so nothing can get in the way of him and his woman well not that you were his woman but that's what he hopes one day you’ll be.

You run your hands up his heaving chest through his chest hair and down his pecs then you wrap your hand to the back of his neck. He leans in to feel you closer clasping his hands around your waist then settling them on your hips.

You take your hand to gently skim your index and middle finger over his bottom lip as if to mesmerize him. He gently takes your wrist and leans in to kiss you. You kiss him back with a soft sigh.

With a small moan he lets his tongue slip into your mouth, you return the favor and soon you both are hungrily tasting, licking and sucking one another's mouths and skin.

He skips to the part where he breaks apart from your lips to lay you down on the bed and kisses his way up and down your body. You remove your top leaving you in your breast binder and he does the honor of removing your skirt. (He saw you wear this specific skirt once and thought it looked amazing on you so naturally you wear it in his fantasy).

You reach back and undo your breast binder letting your tits fall free.

Back in reality. Rex is still in his tent and is hunched over sitting on his cot with his eyes closed imagining the perfect way to make love to you. The tent in his pants might have been even bigger than the one he was currently in, and thanks to his battalion they were ahead of schedule for this latest mission for for the first time in a long time he allows himself to indulge in some personal fantasies.

In his head, Rex is eloping your tits in his mouth. Taking his time sucking, nipping and squeezing making sure both get proper attention. You gasp and moan as his mouth works away at you. He has heard you make noises like that before although they were not sexual, usually you were in pain or just waking up from a nap and he hated the fact that in inappropriate times such as those his cock jumps at each whimper and groan.

He concentrates on imagining your voice speaking specific phrases to him:

“Oh Rex! please don’t stop…”

“Yes! Right there! That’s it!”

“Oh Captain…you’re so good…”

When it plays out perfectly in his head he allows his hand to wander to the growing arousal building in his trousers. He palms himself over his pants as he imagines you on your back as he slips your damp panties down your thighs and slots himself inside.

Your gasps and moan play out in his head as he palms himself. Biting his lip to stifle any noises that might slip out for any unfortunate brothers to hear he slips his cock out from his pants as he begins to move his fist and pump himself. The head of his cock leaking further with each tug. In his mind he was thrusting deep within your walls as you cried out his name.

Your own name leaves his lips in whimpers and praises as he chases his release setting a faster pace. Grunting under his breath; “Fuck mesh’la…no idea how good you are to me…so good- feel so good- shit!” he grits as he begins to play with his balls, imagining that it was your hand instead of his.

In his fantasy you cry out that you are his and he is yours. You whisper that you love him and never want to part. He moans quite loud and with one last good tug he spills all over his fist and stomach.

Before he can let the guilt crash over him like a tidal wave he cleans himself up as a poor distraction from what he had just done. Not only had he looked at your naked body without your permission he jerked off to the thought of fucking you straight afterwards. You didn't deserve that.

He sees the way his brothers talk to you, he has heard the things they say about you. He has heard so many of his brothers (including Cody once) refer to you as “the cute nurse with the nice tits”

No doubt you were used to it but he didnt want you to think that he would ever treat you like an object or plaything. You deserved so much more than that.

Rex had gotten the privilege of getting to know you these past four months. Ever since he saw you walk down that shuttle, in the crowd of other nat-born medics he was drawn to you almost immediately.

Something about you stuck out to him, he had seen beautiful women before. Most hit on him in the 79s but he blames it on his rank and the level of alcohol intake that the women indulged. But getting to know you more drew him in closer than ever before.

You were uncommonly kind to him and anyone else who had the privilege to strike up a conversation with you. Even when you were talking to a total dick you tried to be as nice as possible to try and let them down easy, he chuckled at that.

You were passionate about everything you did, you did things with purpose and focus, never waving away from your goal. You loved to read, spending unwise hours in your bunk on your datapad scrolling through whatever romance novel that swallowed you up this time.

You were creative, and innovative, offering your opinion wherever you could. You even saved his own life through your actions and quick thinking on more than one occasion.

You had an amazing sense of humor, mocking General Kenobi behind his back stroking your chin in perfect sync to the man you were mimicking. Even General Skywalker and the commander had a hard time stifling snickers.

General Kenobi had caught you of course while you were still unaware he was watching you playfully acting out his mannerisms. He let you go off easy since you had brightened the otherwise grim morning you all had gone through.

Rex’s heart swelled at the memory, your face had been bright red when he caught you. The tension in the ship was thick until Obi-Wan himself chuckled softly under his breath and shook his head.

“Well Anakin, it appears your new medic is fitting in quite nicely. She even comes with her own comedy act” you grinned sheepishly, “What can I say? It’s a ‘meeting and a show’ type act still a work in progress” you said with all the fake confidence in the world.

Rex couldn’t remember the last time he had a genuine laugh like that since he’d first met Commander Tano.

-----------------

Rex had been avoiding you the past few days.

You had no idea why, you had tried to talk to him like normal but he purposefully found an excuse to distance himself from you.

You always would confide in him about almost everything in your life but now that he is gone your only option was to talk to someone else or no one at all. The only other person you could think of who was remotely close to Rex was Echo, and you loved him of course as sweet as he was he was not Rex.

You sat with your friends as they laughed and threw food at one another like any other day. But you felt the dred washing over you. Naturally you were an overthinker and at every minor inconvenience you think back to everything that you might have done to cause it and how Rex hates you because of it. It was the only reason why he was avoiding you

“Hey, you alright?” nudged Jesse. You nodded with a fake smile. “M’ fine, just tired” you lied.

Jesse furrowed his brows then looked over his shoulder to find his captain staring at the medic with a sorrowful expression. He had to know the reason why she was sad and lying about it. He might even be the cause of it.

Jesse knew how close the two of you have gotten, if anyone would know anything it would be Rex. Jesse excused himself from the table to talk to him.

“Captain” he addressed. “What is it Jesse?” he asked. “I think you know” he said, narrowing his eyes. Rex looked at the ground, afraid to meet his eyes. “I’m not sure I do” he lied.

Man the two of you can't lie for shit. Jesse rolled his eyes. “I think you do. Any idea why y/n is moping around? Or why you won’t talk to her?” Jesse pinched his brows together and gave his brother a stern look.

Despite Rex’s best efforts, he gave the answer away just by the look of hurt on his face. “What did you do sir?” Jesse asked. Rex looked up to look into his friend's face. “Captain, I swear if you hurt her-” he started but he stopped him. “No! I would never! Jesse…” he sighed knowing he would have to explain himself.

“What did you do?” Jesse asked again with more force. You were a good friend to him, and he hated that you couldn’t enjoy yourself. “Jesse. I violated her trust” said Rex, dropping his head. Jesse uncrossed his arms still not tearing his gaze away from his captain.

“Violated her trust? How?” he asked. Rex sighed and shook his head. “Back at the lake, when she was, you know…not entirely decent. I stood guard to make sure Fives or Hardcase didn’t try and sneak a peek” he started to explain, rubbing the back of his neck, his face growing more and more red the further he went on.

“Okay…and?” Jesse said wanting him to skip to the point. “I looked” he said. Jesse gave a questioning glance. “You…looked?” he repeated Rex nodded. “When she was dressing…I saw her. I knew it was wrong but- she doesn’t deserve that kind of attention not from them and certainly not from me” he sighed.

Jesse laughed. He actually laughed. “Something funny trooper?” Rex asked embarrassed. “N-no…ha! I mean you really are hopeless aren’t you?” he chuckled, wiping a tear from his eye and placing a hand on his shoulder.

“I mean…you sneak a look at her when she’s naked, and then instead of coming clean you push her away and pretend she’s not completely in love with you and act like she wouldn't understand?” Jesse asked, raising a brow and planting a hand on his hip.

“What?” Rex asked dumbfounded. “What do you mean she's in love with me?”

Jesse huffed and shook his head. “Man you two are clueless” he chuckled. “Just trust me. She likes you too di’kut so stop ignoring her and making yourself miserable and just apologize!” Jesse stated.

“Are you sure she likes me?” Rex asked. Jesse groaned “Yes! Have you really not noticed the way she looks at you? Or whenever she talks to us she talks to you first?” he asked. “I know for a fact that that beautiful woman is in love with an idiot no offense. So stop pushing her away and talk to her damn it” Huffed Jesse.

Rex looked back at you, you were smiling at Fives who had made his meal into a face mask and was making faces at Dogma.

“Okay” Rex whispered. “Thank you Jesse. Oh and for future reference…this conversation never happened” he said. Jesse winked at him “I was planning on blocking it out anyways” he replied.

#501st legion #star wars #captain rex #the clone wars #captain rex x reader

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scarlettriot · 3 years ago

Text

Along for the Ride PT 1

Pairing: KirishimaxF!Reader

Summary: A drunken mistake had you marking the little Plus One box to your snobby cousin's wedding. Kirishima told you not to worry, if you couldn't find a date, he'd go with you. When the wedding gets moved up, there's absolutely no time to find a date and you're now about to be traveling to America with Kirishima on a private jet no less, dreading having him meet your rude and impossibly arrogant family.

Contains: Kirishima and Reader both come from very well-off families. Plus-Sized Reader. Fluff. Hurt/Comfort.

Warnings: Kinda smutty for a minute. Minors DNI. Drunken Sex. TW: Manipulative Family Relationships. TW: Body Image Issues

A/N: This story has been rolling around in my head for a while now. I might rewrite this and repost. Or I might just post the whole thing soon. I dunno yet. It does get smuttier.

Word Count: 4,974

"What's up with Y/N?"

Eijiro stepped out of the locker room with a towel slung over his shoulder and made his way into the kitchenette where Mina was chugging a bottle of water before getting back to her patrol. His eyes were trained on their mutual friend out on the patio, pacing.

You had your phone pressed to your ear, the high neck of your hero costume unzipped to your collarbone and he noticed your gloves discarded on a chair.

"No clue." Mina shrugged. "She got back from patrol and she noticed a bunch of missed calls from her mom. She's been out there, flailing on the phone for the last fifteen minutes now."

The three of you had met in your second year at UA when you transferred into their class and were quickly accepted by their little squad of friends. You were a bit quiet at first but quickly found comfort in the group. Eijiro had grown especially close to you when you both interned with Fat Gum.

Late nights traveling on the train back to school, a few close calls while helping patrol, and days spent playing cards while you both healed up in the hospital left plenty of time for Eijiro to get to know you better than most. It was how he knew you had a pretty bad relationship with your family, why you hated returning home for the holidays almost as much as you hated any and all forms of tomatoes.

He considered going out there just to see if there was anything he could do but before he had the chance, you were sliding the glass door open. "Oh, good, you're back." He offered you a bottle of water for your throat that he assumed was sore after that argument. "I- um- can I borrow you for a second? Alone?"

Mina snorted a laugh. "If you guys wanna bang it out on the counter you can just say so. I gotta go to work anyways."

Eijiro threw the towel at her as she left the room leaving you two alone. "What's goin' on?"

You hoisted yourself up on the countertop while he leaned against the fridge. "You remember my cousin's wedding that's happening this winter?"

He nodded. He vividly remembered the both of you getting waste a few weeks ago when you were filling out the RSVP and accidentally marking 'plus one'. Then you ran around trying to find White Out but he'd told you if you didn't find a date or have a significant other by the time of the wedding, he'd just go with you.

You argued that your family was bat shit crazy, had more money than they could spend in their lifetime and because of that, they were among some of the rudest people you knew, and you didn't want Eijiro or anyone else around that.

The thing was, Eijiro already knew that and was still okay with going. He came from money too. A lot of it. His family was just more welcoming than yours, the wealth never really going to their heads. But, he reminded you that he'd ran into enough people like those in your family that he knew how to handle them. You finally agreed to let him accompany you, leaving the plus one box checked but the name line blank.

"Well, my cousin just found out that surprise, she's pregnant! And, obviously, she can't have a wedding while seven months along so they've decided to move the wedding up to this weekend."

He nearly choked on his own spit. "This weekend? As in four days from now?"

"Yup! Saturday at 4 in the evening. Oh! No one's supposed to know she's pregnant either. So, I'm just supposed to compliment her on how flattering her dress looks, how thin she is," Your hands strangled the water bottle between them, "And I have to find something flattering to my figure because my mother has seen me in my hero outfit and she's so glad I wear a mask because if anyone knew her daughter ran around looking like I do, well, it'd ruin her!"

You massaged your temples circling back to the actual point, "Anyways, I just wanted to bitch for a sec and let you know you're off the hook since four days is just a little short notice and I told her my plus one wouldn't be able to get the time off that fast."

He pushed off the fridge. "Well, wait, hang on! I'm not letting you go in alone to deal with them! Hell no! You need backup!" You looked almost taken aback by his abruptness, "Yeah. I can work this out. Is the wedding at the same place it was supposed to be or has it moved?"

"No, it's still that fancy lodge in California. I was planning on leaving Friday morning and then coming back either Sunday night or Monday morning since my mother insists I go to their brunch the following day. But, Eijiro, I already have this weekend off..."

"Denki owes me a favor or twelve. He's supposed to be off this weekend too, I'll just see if he can cover me."

"And if he can't?"

"Then..." He pressed the back of his hand to his forehead, "Y/N, am I feeling warm to you? I think I might be starting a fever!"

You folded your arms, shaking your head, "Thought you said lying isn't manly."

"Technically, correct. But, what would be real unmanly is for me to let you deal with your family's bullshit all alone." You watched him closely, "To be honest, I'm sure we could just explain you had a family thing come up and asked me to come along for moral support. I don't really think anyone would think twice about it. Hell, you took a few days off to console me when my turtle died suddenly!"

"Eiji, you refused to eat."

"And you brought me my favorite dumplings! Same thing!"

You might have shaken your head at him but your arms opened wide. The telltale sign you wanted affection. He walked forward, consuming you in a tight hug. Your arms latched around his neck, face buried in the hollow of his throat. "You're the best."

"I just do what I can."

>>><<<

You should have canceled. Instead of Eijiro faking sick to get out of work, you should have faked it with your mother so you didn't have to go in the first place. You crumpled to the floor of your bedroom in pure frustration amidst the twenty or so outfits and dozen pairs of shoes you'd thrown out of your closet trying to find something that your mother would deem appropriate.

It wasn't your fault you had a fuller figure. You worked out, ate right, not to mention your job kept you very active, and yet your, hips, ass, and breasts were by no means subtle.

Your mother had also insisted on the dress being floor-length and modern, "Do try not wearing all black. It's a wedding, not a funeral. And, get your hair looking natural, please." And, just like that, 70% of your wardrobe was out the window!

"It's open!" You called from the floor when the doorbell rang.

"You really should lock this." Mina tutted, walking through the door with a bag full of takeout.

"I do. At night."

"Honey, it's 9 PM."

"Night like bedtime."

Mina just rolled her eyes and walked into your tiny kitchen. "I see the dress hunt is going well."

"I actually figured it out!" You got off the floor, careful not to step on a heel as you made your way to the pink haired woman, "I'm just gonna go in my birthday suit. I figured, my mother made my body technically therefore she can't disapprove of it. Because, you know, she's never done anything wrong in her life!"

Your best friend snorted out a laugh and passed you the take-out container stuffed full of stir fry. "you're a wonderful person, you know that?" You loved the fact Mina didn't even have to ask what you wanted.

"If you'd just move closer to work then you could pick it up yourself and I wouldn't have to bring it to you."

"Too expensive." You declared after a mouthful. "You pay almost twice as much as I do per month and I just don't see the point. I have damn near the same amount of space you do for half the cost!"

You adored your small one-bedroom apartment. It was perfect. Right above a bakery that you visited each morning after your run and a little balcony that provided you with the most stunning view of the sunset.

"You and Kiri, I swear." Mina just shook her head and curled up with her food on the loveseat. "I thought he'd end up with the biggest house out of us all the moment we started making that real Pro money. You've seen his parent's house. It's massive! You could get lost in that place!"

Eijiro's place was barely bigger than your own. He lived in the same condo he had since you'd graduated UA, claiming it was perfect for him in each and every way. But, you knew that he donated a sizable amount of his paycheck every month to charities, the same as you. With savings to spare, neither of you saw the point in hoarding it and therefore the small condo was all he could afford with what he actually kept.

"Just don't understand how a guy that big can live in such a tiny little space. At least with you, it's you know, physically feasible."

Eijiro's bedroom was barely large enough to fit the king-sized bed the man needed to sleep comfortably and even then, his feet were dangerously close to dangling off the bed. And, as if the man's ears were burning, your cell phone went off under a pile of discarded shoes.

Shark-E: Figured out your dress situation? If not, I'm just gonna pack like ten different ties and hope for the best.

You: Yeah! I totally did! I'm just gonna wear this birthday suit I got and call it a night.

You chuckled at your own joke all over again. Watching the grey ellipses appear and then vanish, appear and vanish again. After a third time, you took pity on the man.

You: Joking, Ei. I still don't have it figured out but Mina's over so, hopefully, she can help.

Shark-E: Gonna give me a damn heart attack! Seriously, I wouldn't put it past you just to see the look on your mom's face. Tell Mina hi and good luck to you. I vote the dress from the Hero Gala two years ago.

You: Hi from Mina. Can't. Too much boobs.

Shark-E: You take that back right now! There is NEVER such a thing as too much boobs!

You chuckled to yourself, putting your phone down, and then finished off the last of your delicious dinner, thinking about the dress Eijiro mentioned.

You wondered if maybe there was a way you could make the thing work but it was so very low cut. So much tape had been used to make sure no slips happened but damn was it worth it! The beaded bodice with the sparkling long sleeves, gods, how you loved that dress.

"I'm inclined to agree with our shark boy. You're busty, who gives a damn. You looked hot as hell in that dress."

"My mother, that's who. As much as I'd like to not give a flying fuck what she thinks, for some dumb reason, I do. On top of her telling me that the amount of cleavage I would show would be vastly inappropriate for a wedding, she'd also say the way it hugs my hips makes them look too fat."

Mina rolled her eyes. "She's such a piece of work." Pushing herself up, she held her arms out to you, wiggling little pink fingers for you to take. "Come on then. Let's get you sorted."

"What about that one you wore to the charity art thingy with Kyoka last winter? The one with the silver top."

"Silver is too close to white." You called out from within your closet.

"What! Not true!"

"You know that. I know that. Every person with two brain cells knows that, which is why most of my family does not know that."

"Fine..." She whined and started sifting through the opposite end of your closet. "Oh, what about this?" Mina waved about the blue and green plaid skirt that made up your uniform from your middle school days when you lived in America. "Please try this on. I'm begging!"

You were pretty sure it wouldn't even go over your thighs anymore.

"It's got a better chance of fitting you!"

Mina threw it at you anyway. Slipping off the sweats you wore, somehow, someway, you were able to tug it on AND get it zipped, barely. It no longer covered your ass but you still enjoyed the way it swished around when you wiggled your hips.

"You could be fulfilling so many people's fantasies right now." Mina mused.

You pulled the skirt off and sweats back on, throwing the former back at her. "Yeah, you can take it and go fulfill Hanta's fantasies if you like. Not like I've got anyone to impress." You pulled down a dress you bought on sale a year ago but Mina was quick to dismiss it.

Too puffy, she said and then held up one that was from Momo. "I needed to get it shortened and I don't have time for that now."

"Wait..." She hummed and dropped the Momo dress. "I know what it should be!"

Mina hurried through the closet, grumbling about not finding it. "Just tell me which dress and I can tell you where it's at."

"It's that one you got for grad night and then you got sick and couldn't go!"

"Mina, Mina I can't wear that! That's actual vintage, not like, made-to-look-vintage!"

"But it's so elegant and has that off-the-shoulder sleeve thing. The wedding is at a damn sky lodge! It'll look so pretty in the snow! Ah! Found it!"

She yanked up the long, elegant gown from the garment bag you'd never removed it from. There wasn't a single wrinkle in the burgundy fabric. It looked just as beautiful as the day you found it in that second-hand store, on a mannequin with gaudy stage jewels that you just had to buy so the look was complete.

You ran the back of your hand over the velvety fabric, soft to the touch. "It'll be too tight now. If I was the same size I was at graduation-"

"Bullshit!" Mina cut you off with a dismissive hand, "You've got hips now. We aren't 18 anymore! It's not like it's some clubbing dress. And I bet no one would say a damn thing about your figure if they knew how easily you could crush them with those thighs!"

A smirk tugged at the corner of your lips. Without quirks, you gave every single one of your classmates a run for their money in hand to hand. Most were fairly easy to beat. You could usually take down Eijiro in about five or six minutes and Katsuki in half the time. Funny enough, it was Ochaco that gave you the hardest time.

"I'll consider it. But help me find something else just in case."

>>><<<

It was another two hours before you finally agreed on an a-line, empire waist green and gold number that had been the bridesmaid's dresses for Tetsutetsu's wedding. Mina thought they were a crime the first time they had to wear them, she had no idea what you were thinking.

That's why the moment you were preoccupied with trying to find yet another dress for the Sunday brunch, Mina pulled out her phone.

You: DO NOT, under any circumstances, allow Y/N to wear the green dress. She's bringing two because she can't decide. Red is the winner!

Jaws: Aw, come on. If she likes it, let her wear whatever she's comfortable in. She'll be under enough stress already.

You: Kirishima, it's the dress from Tetsu's wedding. The one that looks sparkly baby food.

It took him a second to respond.

Jaws: Alright. Understood. I thought you guys looked good but damn, she hated that dress.

You: We all did.

Mina looked at the message chain again and couldn't help but asked, "Are we just gonna ignore the fact that you and Eiji are flying all the way to America, last minute, to attend a wedding together, even though you're not together?"

"We've flown to the states before."

"For work!" She sat up eagerly. "This is different, Y/N! This is a date and not just a, like, casual date but a wedding date!"

You poked your head out of the closet. "No, it isn't. This is a friend helping another friend who stupidly mismarked an RSVP." You corrected very plainly but Mina wasn't one to give up so easily.

She whined, dragging out your name, "You guys have been doing this thing for ages. Why do you have to be so stubborn about it all!"

"What's that supposed to mean!"

Mina started ticking off points on her fingers. "He was the first person you opened up to at UA. You saved his life when he was busy saving Katsuki's life second year. You spent all that time interning together, became sidekicks together. Went to America together for three whole months, ALONE, and you honestly expect me to think there's nothing between the two of you!"

The truth of it all was simple really; 17 year old you had a massive crush on Eijiro Kirishima. He was sweet, always listening to you, providing comfort when you needed it, and always encouraging you to push your limits. He was bright and honest, a little slow in the head from time to time but that made him all the more endearing.

He was also head over heels in love with Katsuki Bakugo.

It was why you never made a move. Never spoke a word of the feelings you harbored. You didn't dare to cross that line with him because you couldn't ever hold a candle to the explosive man.

In the three years Eijiro and Katsuki spent together, your brain finally started registering Eijiro as just a friend, nothing more, and certainly nothing less. You thought your heart had followed suit but it was becoming more and more apparent that wasn't the case. Because the night he showed up at your door, tears in his ruby eyes, every lock you put on your heart broke open.

The same way you couldn't hold a candle to Katsuki, Eijiro couldn't hold one to Izuku. You knew exactly what he was feeling even if you never intended to tell him. Too overcome with fear. If Katsuki came back... that'd be it. Eijiro would go back and you wouldn't even blame him!

Still, the redhead consumed a decent chunk of your heart though, you couldn't deny that after the three months you spent together in America, gathering intel on a smuggling ring, living in the same apartment. The groggy, 'good mornings' when his voice was still scratchy with sleep, hair falling in his eyes. The late nights bandaging wounds and killing cheap bottles of wine while watching terrible American reality shows.

It was those bottles of wine that did you in on your second to last night in America. Supplying you with courage and draining your sense of reason, allowing you to crawl onto his lap, into his arms. You could still remember the pressure of his lips on yours, those sharp teeth gently dragging along your lower lip.

Scared hands tracing the curve of your ass before taking handfuls to squeeze. The laugh that came from you was unlike anything you heard before, something so genuine that you couldn't reproduce.

How it felt when he lifted you up and took you to his bed, laying you down taking his time removing your clothes, and watching with awe as you pulled away his own. The way he looked over top of you, his hair a curtain of red around you just before you closed your eyes, gasping while he filled you.

You also remembered the guilt that crept into your head during the wee hours of the morning, the doubt that was louder than the snores coming from behind you.

It made you slip from under his massive arm, gather up your clothes from his floor, you tucked the blanket around him, and pressed a kiss to his temple before padding out of the room.

You told yourself you'd talk to him about it if he brought it up, but he never did. Not the next morning, or night, not on the plane ride back home, nor anytime since. It was a memory you'd hold close to your heart, one you wouldn't let slip away or share.

"There's nothing there, Mina. We're just good friends is all." You lied with a smile on your face, something that had become surprisingly easy to do.

If only you knew that Mina saw right through it. That Mina already knew the truth of it all.

>>><<<

It was nearly one in the morning when your phone rang. The goofy picture of Eijiro with face half painted at a festival a few years back never failed to make you grin.

"It's a little late." You answered by way of greeting.

"Don't pretend like you were anywhere close to sleeping, you little night owl."

Chuckling at the nickname that had followed you since high school, "What's up, Eiji?"

"I was going over flights. You said in the office that you wanted to leave on Friday?"

"Yeah. I have patrol tomorrow and I didn't find any flights after 6 PM so, Friday is the earliest."

He was quiet on the other line for a moment. "Yeah, you don't have patrol tomorrow, or work at all for that matter."

You sat up a bit straighter in bed. "Um, yes I do."

"No, you don't. I called Mina, asked her if you'd mind taking that shift for you and, since she knows what's happening, she agreed the extra day for travel would do you some good. So, she's covering you tomorrow then you're off work until next Wednesday. As for me, thanks to all that overtime I put in when Denki, Kyoka, and Hitoshi got married, the three of them are splitting up my days so I have until Wednesday too."

Eijiro sounded impossibly proud on the other line, you could almost see the smirk on his face. "You've got this all planned out, don't you?"

"And a bag nearly packed. Just need you to tell me what ties to bring."

"Gold, burgundy, and black."

"Thought your mom said no black for you?"

"She said no black for the wedding. She said nothing about black at the brunch!"

You couldn't wait to put on the tea-length dress that had been a favorite for years. Satin with a lacy top and, best of all, pockets.

He let out a rumbling laugh that fell off into comfortable silence as you laid back in your bed, lights still on, the room still a mess. You tapped the speaker icon and laid the phone on the pillow right beside your head, listing to the various sounds of Eijiro moving around.

A door creaking open, a hanger clattering against another, and a zipper. "And just like that, I'm all set."

"Don't forget your passport or hero license."

"I have one in my wallet and the other in my backpack."

You swiped up on your iPad, off Netflix, and going to google, lazily searching through flights. "So, did you find any good flights since you've clearly been looking?"

Another chuckle, "Eijiro, why are you laughing?" More stifled giggles had you sitting up in bed again. "Just tell me a site you were on. They're just flights, what's so funny?"

"There isn't a site."

"You said you were checking flights."

"And I was... on my family's jet."

"Eiji! No! No, no, no! That is supposed to be for their business or hero things! My stupid cousin's wedding is neither of those things!"

"Relax, Y/N. My family has multiple and they don't have any business trips planned right now anyways. I already cleared it with my mom. Seriously, I just mention your name and she's likely to let me have it for a whole year at least. Plus Todoroki's is back up in working order so the agency is covered too."

Damn, why'd he have to be so good at planning from time to time! You'd completely forgotten about the second jet his family had. Always opting for the larger one since the few missions they needed it for required them to bring fifty or so heroes along.

"Besides, if we fly private, we can land at an airstrip closer to the venue and won't need to drive four hours on top of a ten-hour flight."

"Alright, okay, thank you but, let me take care of the rental car, please. It's the least you can let me do."

"Deal. I just have one more question for ya."

"What's that?"

"Wanna leave tonight?"

You nearly dropped your damn iPad in shock. "Eijiro! What the fuck has gotten into you! It's the middle of the night!"

"I'm excited!" He boomed, "I haven't had a vacation in months!"

"I hate to break this to you, buddy, but this isn't going to be a vacation. You really shouldn't get your hopes up. This isn't going to be a good time with laughs and fun memories... my family, they just, they aren't those kinds of people."

"But we are." He stated matter-of-factly. "If they want to have sticks up their asses then let them! We'll have a good time on our own, laugh and make fun memories! So, what do you say, Y/N? I can be at your place in fifteen. I just gotta put shoes on and grab my keys..."

"Wait, hang on. Are you forgetting that we need someone to, oh, I dunno, FLY THE PLANE! Actually, we need two someone's, can't forget about a co-pilot!"

He hummed happily and you rubbed your temples. "You, you have a pilot and a co, don't you, Eiji?"

"Mhm! There is a company we use. Two can be at the hanger in an hour and every hour after that. I just have to make the call and get the flight plan approved which will be done before I even get to your house."

There was literally no reason to say no. You had mostly everything packed, nothing you needed to get from the store, all you had to do was put on pants and pack up your hygiene bag and you were ready too. Maybe getting there quicker and getting the whole thing over with would be better than staying home dwelling on everything.

"Better put your shoes on."

The glee in his voice, that was enough to make this whole thing worth it, "I'll see you soon."

>>><<<

Eijiro reached into the backseat and plopped a bag down on your lap the very moment you were buckled in. "Had to make a pit stop." He explained.

"It's after two in the morning, where'd you have to..."

"Just open the bag and don't complain."

You found it filled to the brim with all your favorite snacks.

"I'm sure the plane will have a bunch of snacks we can raid but I know for a fact they don't have these." He held up a pack of cookies and creme flavored pocky that had been his favorite for as long as you'd known him, quickly followed by your favorite flavor too. You also found a massive bag of gummy worms and jolly ranchers.

"So, what you're telling me is our teeth are going to rot by the time we land? Not that I'm complaining."

You ripped open the bag of ranchers knowing that was what he'd go for first and sure enough his hand dove inside just as he pulled away from the curb. You could hear his dangerously sharp teeth biting through the rock candy like it was nothing while you still rolled one around your mouth.

Eijiro asked you about the resort you'd be going to, wondering if you'd been there before or what other stuff you guys could do when you weren't dealing with your family. "I figured we could fly back Monday night or Tuesday morning, you know, just play it by ear in case there was anything else we wanted to do."

More than anything, you wished you could just leech a little bit of that excitement from him. The glimpses of his smile you caught as you drove under the street lights made your heart ache.

"What?" He asked with that wide smile of his. You'd been caught staring, red-handed.

"I, uh, I just don't know what to tell you."

You could see the subtle change of his grin, watch as it softened and his hand came to rest on your thigh. "Hey, it's gonna be fine! And if we run into them while out doing stuff, you can just avoid them or hide behind me!" At least hiding behind Eijiro is an easy thing to do, damn mountain of a man.

His thumb slowly brushed back and forth. "'S gonna be okay. I'll beat 'em up if they're assholes!"

You snickered at his Katsuki impression and let the drone of the radio fill the air around you both. Enjoying the silence the rest of the way to the hanger with Eijiro's hand atop your leg.

#mha #bnha #kirishima x reader #kirishima x y/n #eijiro kirishima #kirishima smut #mha x reader #mha x y/n

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mercy-burning · 3 years ago

Text

Your Favorite — Part 3

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: As the summer comes to a close, Spencer and Y/N start feeling a shift in their relationship. Category: SMUT (18+) Content: Adults w/ age gap, thigh riding, exhibitionism, oral sex (male receiving), penetrative/unprotected sex, breeding kink, one line of daddy kink, Word Count: 4.3k exactly, love how that turned out lol

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | MASTERLIST

NOTE: Thank you all for sticking with me through this long wait, I feel so bad for having to keep putting it off. But I’m very proud of where this ended up, and I’m so glad you’ve all been so excited about it! I had so much fun writing this story, so again, thank you very much for reading and indulging me in this weird fantasy lolol ❤ Love you guys! And, as always, thank you to the lovely Em ( @boldlyvoid ) for being my beta for this series! Your feedback and support has been a big help from the start, ILY

———

AUGUST 12th

"I don't wanna hear a single word, understand?"

Not like I have a choice; As soon as the harsh whisper leaves Spencer's mouth, his hand is covering my own and my back is being pressed up against the wall of the storage closet.

But that's all he does. I wait for him to make a move, but instead he insists on being a tease.

"What? You've been trying to get my attention all night, and now that you have it, you're not gonna do anything with it?"

"I want you to do it for me," I mumble into his hand.

He shoves me harder into the wall and slots his knee in between my legs, spreading them apart and making me sigh.

"You wanted it so bad... So take it..."

Watching the amusement dance through his features as I grind down on his leg and whine into his mouth only excites me more, right next to the knowledge that downstairs the house is congested with people visiting to celebrate my mom's new promotion at work.

Needless to say, it doesn't take me very long to start feeling my stomach tense. My hips are wild as they roll over his leg, whines spewing from my mouth and into his hand. I look up into his eyes, doing my best to show him how much I could never grow tired of this, and he returns the favor by lifting his leg higher and giving me more friction.

In no time at all, I'm shuddering against him, feeling his hand press harder into my mouth to muffle the high-pitched whines that I can't help but expel.

"Nice and quick... Good girl..." Spencer muses, slowly peeling himself away from me. "You're really looking forward to being spoiled later, aren't you..."

The grin that spreads over my face is unwavering. "Definitely. Knowing Mom, she'll be passed out cold in like an hour."

I know I'm the one who brought her up, but it still stings a little when Spencer smiles fondly. "Yeah, she's a lightweight alright... You sure you can handle all this time without me until then?"

Despite the butterflies I get when he says it, mischievous and downright delectable, his hands reach out to grab my waist and pull me closer to him, I roll my eyes. "You underestimate me."

He studies my face for a moment, a pretty smile flashing before me in the dim light before he kisses my cheek. "Sure."

And when he leaves, I wait.

Minutes later, my skin still burns from his touch.

———

The moment my eyes open the next morning, it all comes back in flashes.

His lips are on my skin, travelling lower and lower...

His hands trail all over my body, featherlight in a way that leaves me with goosebumps.

His tongue starts slow, taking its time to taste me and savor every precious second.

His voice is like the sweetest prayer, whispering praises that leave my head dizzy and my heart pounding.

His lips languidly open and close around the most sensitive parts of my body, in tandem with that sweet, magnificent tongue as each action pulls sighs from the very depths of my soul.

His hands reach up and tangle with mine as he makes me come on his tongue, over and over again until I'm practically numb and the lull of sleep drags me under.

His hands now ghost over my bare skin, along my sides and down to my waist. I hum happily and push back against him when I feel it.

He's hard.

"How long before you think she wakes up?" he whispers in my ear.

"Not long... Maybe we... shouldn't risk i—"

The words fall off a cliff, never to be seen again when he slowly enters me, gripping my leg and forcing it over his own. "I'll be quick."

I can tell, though, that he doesn't want to be. It's present in the way he enters me, over and over with motions that feel rather stunted and definitely too rushed.

"Baby, no," I whine, reaching behind me to hold his hips still with one hand. "Fuck me slow... Don't rush..."

"But... Your mom..."

"Please..."

Spencer sighs, though not from exasperation. No, his breath is long and teeming with relief, hands gently roaming over the entirety of my body as his hips move slower. He's taking his time, relishing every second and feeling me gradually get more slick at his undoing.

His lips are on my neck, not providing marks to match the ones hidden on the inside of my thighs and my chest, but merely resting there. He kisses me in between gentle thrusts, letting out small whimpers of his own when I clench tightly around him.

This...

This is different.

We've had slow morning sex before, but never like this. Somehow, I find myself drifting, like I'm being carried away by his current. There's nothing but me, Spencer, and our breathing... Our bodies, our air, our souls...

This is what I imagine making love feels like.

Which is why I barely notice when it slips from my mouth— Three words that should feel more daunting due to the weight they hold and the way they ultimately change everything. And yet, whispering “I love you,” in a nearly breathless string of syllables feels incredibly natural. It’s more sincere than anything I think I’ve ever told him, so much so that I don’t even think about what it will mean in the long-run. Instead I let it fall from my lips again and again without regret or consequence.

He doesn't stop, either. Spencer continues to fuck me softly, like it's all he knows how to do. In fact, my confession only seems to make him relax more.

And that's what finally pushes me over the edge.

His name escapes my mouth in a whisper that sounds more like a plea not to leave, and he holds me closer to him. Our bodies are flush together, my back resting perfectly against his chest as he takes a few final thrusts and empties himself inside of me.

If we stayed like that forever, I could die happy.

And actually, that wouldn't be far from the truth, given that if we did stay here forever, my mom would certainly find us and kill us.

The thought makes me sigh.

"You have to leave..."

"I know..."

Spencer pulls me closer, squeezing me tight and giving me a long, bold kiss on the jaw before he rips himself away and takes my heart with him.

AUGUST 18th

Things are significantly different now.

After the morning I let slip that I love him, Spencer and I had been intimate once. We found ourselves alone while Mom was at the grocery store and instinctually came together.

It was quick, and it was fast and rough, and while it obviously felt good, something was off. But I knew it wasn't a physical problem. Like I said, it felt as good as any other time we'd been together, but it just wasn't right.

I hate it.

It hasn't even been a week since then, and I miss him. I miss our dynamic, and I miss the way I used to feel when he touched me.

So I stalk into the office and lean against the doorframe, watching Spencer as he goes through a large pile of paperwork. His hands and his eyes are moving at near light-speed, and the way he concentrates almost makes me feel bad for my intrusion—Honestly, I could have looked at him all damn day.

But there's a bigger plan in mind.

"What'cha up to?"

He looks up and greets me with a smile. "School starts in a few weeks. I'm just trying to get my coursework prepared."

"Oh... You... mind if I keep you company?"

"Not at all."

It's an innocent enough exchange, though I'm hoping I can change that. Mom doesn't get off work for another few hours, so it gives me ample time to do what I have planned.

I walk over and nudge his leg with my knee, and he lets me in. I climb on his lap, and after giving me a brief kiss on the cheek he returns to going through his paperwork.

My face turns and I nestle it into his neck. He hums softly when I kiss the skin under his jaw, once, and then twice, and then over and over in quick succession.

I can feel him smile. "What are you up to, princess?"

Hearing the nickname return in earnest makes me smile. I nip softly at his neck and run my tongue along it. "Mmm, trouble."

"Sounds like you," he mutters through a sultry sigh once I start going lower, kissing the top of his shoulder.

I slide my hands up the front of his chest and gently undo the top button, giving me access to more skin. "You love it when I make trouble..."

"Hmm, I'm not sure about that."

I slide off his lap then, crouching between his legs and looking up at him with a smile. "Really?"

All he does is look down at me, his pupils growing bigger by the second. So I continue my venture, sliding my hands up the insides of his legs until I reach the belt. "So you don't love when I do this?"

Spencer sighs, helping me by lifting his hips a little and letting me slide down layers of fabric until his dick is right in front of me.

I don't waste any time, taking him in my hand and bringing him to my mouth. He's still not entirely hard yet, but I don't mind at all. In fact, I let out a happy sigh just before I press kiss after kiss along the entire length of him. From base to tip, I take my time kissing and licking along the salty skin and giving him my full attention. I pull back and admire him, I smile, I kiss and I lick and I squeeze him with my hand... And when he's finally nice and hard, I take the head of his cock in my mouth and suck gently.

"Y/N..."

I hum around him, sinking further down until he hits the back of my throat, and then I come back up and repeat. It's slow. Maybe torturous even, but really I don't mean it to be.

Thankfully Spencer seems to be happy with my speed and technique; His eyes are on the verge of closing and his chest is heaving slowly, fingers gently caressing the sides of my face as I go down on him.

It's this same slow, steadying pace we'd taken before, and it's exactly what we needed.

I can feel his touch on my face, burning into my skin and marking me for all eternity. Likewise, the thick, throbbing weight of his cock sliding over my tongue and down my throat feels just like home— Like it's right where we're meant to be.

Once again, we fit together perfectly.

This epiphany sets a fire deep in the pits of my stomach, and just like that our spark is back again.

I look up and catch his eye, and he lets me keep it, forcing himself to keep his eyelids open to watch me. My pace remains consistent and slow, and and he brings both of his hands under my chin. The way he holds my face is so gentle, so loving and sensual that I nearly burst with tears at the sentiment alone, and it doesn't take long for him to start letting go.

He stutters my name when he comes, still using the pads of his nimble fingers to caress my throat. I take in and swallow each rope of cum until it's gone, and even then I keep him in my mouth, gently bobbing my head up and down just for the sake of feeling him inside me somehow.

But then he lifts me off of him and his dick falls limp in his lap. I sigh and lean down, kissing it a few times before just resting my head in his lap as he strokes my hair.

"You're right," Spencer says after a few moments.

"About what?"

"I do love when you make trouble."

We laugh, and I lift my head to look up at him.

"I know... It's your favorite."

"That it is, princess."

AUGUST 26th

I wish more than anything that this orientation would just end. My left foot is anxiously tapping the cool white tile of the floor as I wait to be next in line to grab my paperwork and get on my way— To home for what I'm sure will be a long weekend trying to find free minutes to steal with Spencer.

In another life it might have gotten tedious and painful sneaking around for so long, but I found it excited me. Sure, my feelings for Spencer were growing at an exponential rate, but ever since I visited him in our home office, we seemed to be getting back our groove— With an added flair I might add...

Each time we were together was more intense than the last. His hands got more possessive, his kisses got deeper and more passionate, and the way he looked at me?

I could swear I felt him falling just as deep as I was.

The smile it all brought to my face in that moment fell a little short when they called me next in line, and I fell into a joyful step forward to collect my things.

When I get home, though, things aren't as joyful.

The first thing I notice is that Spencer's car isn't in the driveway or even on the street. He's usually here on weekends, so I wonder if he's out for something, or even out with my mom on a lunch date or something.

I try not to think about that thought too much and step inside, hoping to at least enjoy the silence for a little while, lest they really are out together.

I think I'm out of the woods when I hear the television, a laugh track of some kind, but then it turns into the Friends theme blaring through the speakers, and my heart nearly falls into the pit of my stomach.

There's only one reason Mom would be watching Friends. She swears up and down that she hates it, but it always ends up on TV when there's one specific thing she's going through, because "Hearing them complain about their stupid problems make me feel better about my own!"

Her own problem being a breakup.

For a moment I wonder if maybe Spencer had told her about us. Or maybe she found something somehow that would give us away. I make my way slowly through the space until I reach the living room, my brain making up every possible horrendous outcome— Not even to prepare for the blow, because I know that absolutely nothing could prepare me for the wrath of my mother in any situation... I simply can't help myself from feeling guilty and heartbroken as my stomach churns and my heart beats so loud I can barely hear the TV anymore.

When I come into her view, Mom freezes and lets out a large breath of shaky air. The small tub of ice cream in her hands shakes just as much, and I can tell she's trying her hardest not to burst into tears.

I've never seen her this upset before. Normally it's just anger and annoyance, but this time she looks utterly broken.

"M—Mom?" I stutter, even though she probably can't even hear what I'm saying over the TV. I still don't know if she knows about my involvement with Spencer, but I feel like she'd be more angry with me than sad, so I figure it's safe to come closer.

The moment I take a step forward, she sets the ice cream on the floor and opens her arms to me, a choked sob forcing its way out. It almost makes me cry, just seeing her this heartbroken, and in an instant I'm running to her and snuggling into her side as she hugs me.

"What happened?" I will myself to ask, even though I still have no idea what it means for me. Maybe that's selfish, but if he's taking himself out of Mom's life, surely that has to mean he's removing himself from mine as well, right? And if he's just leaving without saying anything... God, that would ruin me, too.

Still, I wait to hear what Mom will say.

"He broke up with me," is all she says, through a long and tired sigh. She mutes the TV and then holds me tighter. I can feel that there's pure sadness controlling her every movement, and it crushes me.

"Why?"

"I don't know, he just... He said he didn't love me, and he wasn't feeling it anymore."

"That's all?"

"Uh huh... It was so sudden, too, like... I thought we were really getting along, and I just... I don't understand how he couldn't feel it... I felt all of it, and he just... He felt nothing. How could he feel nothing?"

I really don't know what to say anymore... It seems to me like Spencer really told her the truth and ended their relationship because he didn't feel anything for her anymore, but... I always knew he had to have felt something... I guess I just didn't realize someone could fall out of it so quickly.

The guilt overwhelms me then, when it dawns on me that I made him fall out of it so fast. I was there, taking up small moments of his time until, eventually, I'd taken up so much of it that it wasn't just his time I was stealing, but also his love. His fire, and his passion... Month by month, day by day, I was draining the love he had for my mom and distilling it to meet my own desires.

And now, here I am, in my mothers arms as she weeps over a man she truly loved, all because he and I were selfish and treasonous.

If Spencer decides he still wants to be with me after this, I really don't know if I could do it. Even after all this time... After all this trouble and guilt and glorious treason...

He could never really be mine.

———

Y/N,

I knew this day would come from the moment I met you. Of course, I didn't know how far my feelings would take me, but in the end I knew I would one day have to leave you and your mother behind.

Day by day my feelings for you grew stronger, and it wasn't until you told me you loved me that August Thirteenth that I realized I loved you, too. What we had was always dangerous, but by then my heart was focused solely on you, and I could feel your mother slipping from my grasp.

I pretended for as long as I could, but now you've taken up so much space in my brain that when Eve pulled me near, I almost sighed out your name instead. I knew then that no longer could I "keep up appearances," as I often like to tell you.

Maybe one day you and I can find our way back to each other, but for now, I think it's for the very best that we go our separate ways.

In my wildest dreams I will think of you fondly, and I can only hope that you might do the same.

Always Yours, Spencer

JUNE 19th, SEVEN YEARS LATER

There are so many things I'm thinking about when I come home tonight.

One: I'm a little tipsy and completely fucked out, which reminds me of that night I came home in the exact same state, only to find my mom's old boyfriend, Spencer, unable to sleep and to stop staring at my bare legs. The memory brings a smile to my face.

Two: My feet fucking hurt and I want to get these goddamned shoes off.

Three: The ghost of Spencer's smile when he saw me for the first time in seven years burns in the back of my mind, right next to the ghost of his hands caressing my skin like it had been the first time.

Four: How am I going to spend the rest of the summer back in town knowing what it feels like to have fucked him at all without an ounce of guilt attached to it?

Five: Am I going to tell my mom that I slept with her ex-boyfriend tonight?

Six: Fuck, I'm hungry...

My heels come off as soon as I step through the door.

The light is on, and I can hear Mom laughing in the kitchen with Adam from far away, which brings a fond smile to my face. I'm glad that she's finally happy, with someone who doesn't make me want to fall to my knees, thank you very much.

And truthfully, if I hadn't ran into Spencer at all tonight, I'm not sure I ever would have thought about that whole situation again— It was fucked up, he ended up leaving both of us, and Mom was so deeply devastated after their breakup that I didn't have the heart to tell her I missed him too. I just buried it deep down and tried to move on right alongside her, eventually erasing his memory from my mind, body, and soul.

Well, almost.

There were days, obviously, where his letter hummed inside my pillowcase where he left it, whether I brought it to college or kept it at home, or it sat soundly in my new apartment. His words were always there, spilling into my dreams and dancing with me through our memories; tangled tongues and limbs, wild nights and passionate mornings...

I'd wake up feeling hot to the touch and missing him completely.

Thankfully those days were few and far in between, and for a while I'd stopped thinking of him altogether.

But of course, it turns out that Spencer Reid is in fact, pretty damn inevitable.

That bar downtown was packed, so it was a wonder I'd even ran into him of all people in the first place. What he was doing there I didn't know. And neither do I now, because from the moment we laid eyes on each other, it was this constant state of shell-shock and fire, nothing else. He asked briefly about Mom, I told him she'd been married for four years, and then he joked about how he was surprised I hadn't tried to steal him from her.

Naturally, with that ever so playful look in his eye practically taunting me, I played to his joke and responded with a sultry smile, "The only one I ever wanted to steal was you, Doctor..."

The rest wasn't exactly a blur, but all I'm going to say is that we spent the rest of our time together at his apartment, "catching up on lost time"... And as much as I'd grown out of the submissive role sexually over the years, I found myself crawling back, submitting to him like I'd done it a million times over. And, really, I might as well have.

It's like we'd never stopped.

That being said, I declined his offer to stay the night and told him to give me a call some time before I left to go back to Seattle. Though, not without giving him a thousand goodbye kisses that were rather counterproductive.

Thinking about it makes my cheeks burn hot, though thankfully it's summer, and Mom won't have to question it. Though, if she does, I suppose I could keep it short and sweet and tell her the truth at the very least: that I met up with an old friend who showed me a good time.

"Hey'a, Sweetpea," she greets with a bright wave. She and Adam are obviously a little tipsy, more than me by the looks of it, but I pay it no mind. "How was you're night?"

"Great! Went to a few bars downtown, met up with some friends..."

"Oh, good, well we're glad you got back safe."

I snag a bottle of water and an apple from the fridge, then turn back around to see Mom and Adam snuggled in, sharing a smile that would make even the happiest person on the planet sick to their stomach.

Oddly enough, it reminds me of back then, when she was with Spencer, happier than ever and completely oblivious to what was going on in her daughter's life.

The thought makes my stomach flutter, taking me back to earlier in the night when he had his hands tangled in my hair and his mouth attached to my skin, spewing filthy words and praises that had me begging for more...

"I missed you, princess," he whispers, holding himself deep inside me. His fingers brush the matted hair from my face, revealing more of my saccharine smile and eyes that swim with mischief.

"I missed you too," I whine, reaching out and grabbing handfuls of his ass, shoving him even farther inside me and wrapping my legs around him tighter. "...Daddy..."

Spencer loses all semblance of cool, pulling back and slamming into me with full force. I—

"Y/N?"

I blink away his memory, reminding myself of where I am and what I'm doing, finding Mom looking at me with a curious gleam in her eye.

"What are you thinking about?"

With a small smile, I nod in her direction. "Oh, uh... You'll never believe who I ran into tonight."

———

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#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds smut

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ptergwen · 4 years ago

Text

favorite crime

w/c: 1.6k

warnings: swearing, mentions of blood / death, lots n lots of angst

summary: you convince peter to go on the run after he’s framed for murdering mysterio, but he doesn’t want to drag you into his mess

a/n: this was completely based off the song by olivia lfmbsjfhs it’s so beautiful and i’ve wanted to write something for it for a while now so yee i hope y’all like ! pls lmk what you think <3

“we have to get you out of here, peter! come on!” you shout back to your boyfriend and tug his hand that’s laced with yours.

peter doesn’t budge. even when your grip on him tightens, when you pull him forward with all your might, he remains stoic.

there’s something he needs to do, and he’s been contemplating it since the day he met you.

it’s time to let you go.

“please, peter. i’m begging. i know you’re tired of running, but if we don’t leave now… they’ll find you,” you desperately choke out. peter squeezes his eyes shut, dreading what’s to come. “i can’t do this to you anymore, y/n. i… i’m sorry.”

emergency sirens and flashing lights approach the old apartment building serving as yours and peter’s latest hideout. the whole world is on the lookout for him, so you two stowed yourselves away in brooklyn for a bit.

you were hopeful the rumors would pass eventually — about how peter shot the beloved mysterio and left him to die in cold blood. they’re merely talk, of course. you’d personally seen the events of that day unfold on the tower bridge. hell, your class was right at the center of them.

quentin beck was pure evil, so rotten he defamed both peter and spider-man with a charge as cruel as murder. he’s wreaking havoc on him from beyond the grave, over a complete misunderstanding that peter had nothing to do with.

beck’s true source of anger is stark industries. yet, once again, peter ended up the collateral damage.

he was deemed a wanted murderer. posters revealing his name and face were plastered up around the city, a reward even being offered to whoever who turns him in.

you’d proposed the idea of skipping town until things settled. the way you saw it, it was peter’s only option other than prison for twenty-five to life. peter was panicking and couldn’t think straight, so he went along with your getaway plan.

a few weeks later, he’s regretting it.

you’ve been the one person he could trust through this madness. you’re right there to console him, to protect him just like he does you. through sickness and health, life and clearly death, you stick by peter’s side. you left everything behind without a second thought, for him.

peter loves you more than you’ll ever fully be able to comprehend, which is why he can’t ask you to do that. this is his battle to fight, not yours or anyone else’s. his.

you suddenly freeze in your tracks, turning around to look at peter. “what are you talking about? you’re fine, pete.”

his eyes roam everywhere except to yours as they water. blinking back tears, he fixes his gaze on your intertwined hands. you notice a stray tear fall down his cheek and use one of your thumbs to wipe it away, then press a reassuring kiss to his lips. peter lets himself reciprocate momentarily before jerking back.

“please just… stop being so nice to me. you’re making this way harder than i wanted to to be,” he rasps and squeezes your hand tighter. you’re still lost, absolutely clueless about what he’s referring to.

“look, pete. i wanna hear you out, baby. but… i think it should wait until we get to jersey.” you keep your voice as calm as possible, though you’re terrified for both of you. since the feds know your location, they’ll have the place surrounded any minute.

hopping cities isn’t cutting it anymore, so you’ll have to change states this time. new jersey is next on your list.

using his strength to his advantage to hold you in place, peter seizes both your shoulders. his bloodshot eyes lock with yours. a stern expression coats his features, one you’ve seen from him yet never been on the receiving end of.

“we’re not going to jersey, y/n/n,” he declares, the sirens starting to grow louder. you feel a pit forming in your stomach. “we have to!” you immediately protest. “it’s not gonna be easy finding our way, but it’s the last-“

peter cuts you off, voice softer now. “no, no. that’s not what i meant.” he waits a beat and inhales a deep breath, aiming to settle his nerves. it doesn’t.

“i’m going to jersey. you’re staying.”

tears cloud your vision the second those words leave his mouth. you shake your head furiously back and forth, willing him to take them back.

part of you was always afraid peter would get second thoughts. not only about running away with you, about ever being with you. you’re both so young. your entire lives are ahead of you, and peter won’t allow you to risk your own because this isn’t worth a single bit of it.

he’d warned you how dangerous it was to be associated with spider-man. it’s why he held off on telling you about his alias for the longest he could. you naturally began asking questions whenever peter bailed on dates and showed up to school covered in bruises. he hated lying to you, using his stark internship as an excuse, so he finally came out and said it.

peter sometimes wonders if you’d be better off not knowing at all. it’s too late now, though.

“wait, what? why- why can’t i go with you?” you plead, peter’s fingers coming up to cup your cheek. his fingertips lightly caress your skin. “i’m a criminal, y/n. you’d be my accessory.”

it takes everything in him not to break down and sob along with you.

you lean into his palm, already missing his touch. “i don’t care... i don’t give a fuck. i just wanna be with you, peter.” peter literally has to bite his tongue to fight the urge to cry. hands grabbing either side of his head, your fingers twist in his hair roughly. “i’ll do anything, pete. i really will, i swear. name it.”

peter threads his own fingers through yours again, bringing your hands to his chest.

“i’m so sorry, angel. i never should’ve gotten you involved,” he murmurs out and pecks your forehead. “you have nothing to prove to me, okay? you’ve done more than enough. i’m gonna return the favor.”

you let out a strangled whine, your knees buckling as you come to terms with the gravity of your situation.

this is it. this is the end of yours and peter’s story.

“hey, none of that. it’s okay,” peter coos, neither of you convinced. the tastes of salt and metal flood both your senses. he helps you back up and hugs your waist, peppering your cheeks in more kisses. you’re bawling now, arms wound around his neck, clutching at his tattered jacket.

free tears escape peter’s eyes at last. “i love you. i love you so goddamn much, y/n. never forget it,” he nearly whispers. you sniffle and push your forehead against his. “i’m not saying it back ‘cuz that feels like a goodbye, and i- i can’t say goodbye to you yet.”

“it’s not a goodbye,” peter reassures you, rubbing circles on your lower back. “it’s, uh, it’s a see you later. i’m gonna figure something out and be back to you before you know it. can’t get rid of me that easy.”

that earns a faint giggle from you, peter managing a grin. you two attempt to ignore everything happening beyond these walls, only focusing on the other.

“then, um…” you clear your throat. “i love you.” his smile dwindling slightly, peter nods and meets your gaze. “i love you too, baby. you should probably get going soon.”

affirming his advice, a booming voice that sounds from a microphone commands peter to come out with his hands up.

your worry spikes, instinctively drawing peter in closer. he forces himself to put on a brave face for you.

“i’m scared, pete. where… where am i supposed to go?” you rush to ask him. “home, y/n/n. go home,” peter decides, pressing a final kiss to the top of your head. “just don’t get caught, and you’ll be fine.” carding your fingers in his undone curls, you sigh. “easier said than done, but i’ll try not to.”

you’d never pictured that the sweet boy with a heart too big and brain even bigger, who sings you to sleep even though his voice sucks and spends his last dollar buying you flowers, would be accused of first degree murder. it isn’t true or fucking fair.

what’s worse, he has to bare this storm alone now.

you lift your heavy backpack off the cold ground, slinging it onto your shoulders. peter stares out the window and down at the assembly of swarm troops crowded together.

“are you gonna be okay?” you catch his attention. he snaps back into reality, pulling your hood up so it covers your head. you’re wearing a sweatshirt of his, after having gone through all your own clothes. “i hope so. are you?” peter repeats your question. “i hope so,” you echo.

tying your hoodie strings tight, peter offers a smile. “say hi to may for me. ned and mj, too.” it’s going to be tough to face his family and friends after this. “i will. i’ll let them know you’re alright.” you kiss his cheek, placing a hand on his chest. peter lets your touch distract him from the mess he’s about to be hit with.

“thank you, y/n. i’ll see you soon, baby. you have my word,” he promises, stepping back so you two can go your separate ways.

you watch him with fresh tears threatening to spill.

“i’m gonna hold you to it. be safe, spidey.”

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astaroth1357 · 4 years ago

Note

More undateables with a demigod hades mc???

By request, have yourself a part two!!

Demigod MC Series: Hades Pt. 2 (Un)Dateables Edition!

I will ask that y’all please don't ask for continuations of other gods unless I say it’s okay to do again. This series already fills my inbox something fierce and this is a one-off that I allowed for during the request window. If I have to make ideas for new gods while continuing a bunch of old MCs, it'll burn me out fast...

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes, Hades, Dionysus, Demeter, Athena, Hades Pt. 2

Diavolo

Oh, he has no problem at all hosting a child of the Underworld, hell he even throws them a welcome banquet when he finds out! Hades is a dear friend - and practically a parental figure to him growing up - so he's more than happy to take in one of his children for a year.

Diavolo is actually one of the few people that the MC can talk to about their home with any kind of fondness. Usually when they bring up things like the comforting wailing of the River Coctyus, the brothers will give them weird looks... but Diavolo knows where they're coming from!

He spent numerous summers in the Underworld growing up doing things like pestering Charon on the River Styx or playing games with Cerberus (the other one) in the Asphodel Meadows... His beach house is actually modeled after his childhood summer home in the Isles of Paradise! Really, it can be a lovely place if the gloom doesn't bother you!

So in the spirit of his fond memories, Diavolo really tried to make their time in the Devildom a fun one!... in his maybe trying a little too hard way…

Poor MC found themselves offered pretty much everything under the moon… Tickets or exclusive passes to different cultural events/festivals, invitations to gala events, and tours of nearly every inch of Hell by the Prince himself - it was… it was a lot for the poor introverted thing…

It didn’t help that Diavolo would have a hard time gauging if they were having any fun due to their naturally melancholic nature, which only pushed him to try harder… He means well, he does. He’s just not the most in touch with what would make an anti-social doom child happy...

It took Barbatos and Lucifer stepping in for the mortal to actually start getting some much needed space and that improved their experience significantly. Sometimes less is more, Dia… Less is more. But they appreciate his efforts anyway.

Barbatos

Also has a pretty amicable relationship with the Ruler of the Underworld, though his is much more professional compared to Diavolo’s. He actually has a good deal of appreciation for the man for taking good care of the Prince during his visits, so he sees this as an opportunity to return the favor.

Like Diavolo, he’s rather focused on making sure the MC is having a good stay in the Devildom, but he’s much more subtle about it. He’ll come by the House often to check up on them and make sure everything is to their liking...

Even the brothers notice that he treats them like anothering visiting Lord/Lady in that way, which he would argue they very much are and should be respected as one. It’s the least the Devildom can offer their father at this point.

His visits may also be an excuse for keeping an eye on the brothers to make sure they don’t do anything to inconvenience their “young guest…” To be honest, the entire House is a little paranoid about that… Nobody wants to know the punishment for hurting MC if Barbs is the one dishing it out...

Apart from watching out for them, Barbatos tries to encourage the MC to accept the Young Lord’s gifts (while also actively advising Diavolo to go easier on them at the same time). It would be so disheartening to him if his Prince feels like he hasn’t offered them the best experience that he could… He’s sure they understand.

Any time that he invites the MC to tea, they usually end up talking about their father in some way. Barbs knows a surprising amount about the god… He’s been around about as long as Chronos - preceding the birth of Aether and Chaos themselves - so he has some stories to tell.

The MC did once ask him why he doesn’t just run everything if he’s really been around for so long... his answer was: “Kings and their kingdoms will rise and fall… Worlds upon worlds are born, then cease to be. But time is what brings about all changes… So, I think I’m perfectly content with the power I possess. Wouldn’t you be?”

Annnd they never asked Barbs another question like that again… and people think death is scary…

Simeon

He was honestly a little worried for their new companion for quite a while… It’s not like there’s never any sadness in the Celestial Realm or anything, but they seem to have something else entirely…

He’s heard stories about the Underworld. He’s never been himself, that’s usually a job for the Seraphim due to the… dreary nature of the place - but he’s heard it would make the Devildom look downright festive…

If he were being honest, he had half expected the MC to be obsessed with skeletons, ghosts, and other elements of darkness but that wasn’t the case. They certainly knew a lot about those things, but they appeared to have a healthy interest in the afterlife in general, so they asked him a lot of questions about the Celestial Realm, angels, and how the souls of the blessed are treated up there… It was surprising to say the least.

Of course he did the same and, frankly, Simeon found it incredibly wasteful that so many Greek followers find themselves just wasting away in a field of nothing for so long… but that’s neither here nor there.

He was also surprised by how gentle of an influence the MC ended up being on Luke as well. He had always suspected that the little angel just needed a bridge between him and Devildom to start finding appreciation for it, and the MC fit that bill perfectly - nothing he was used to, but still approachable enough to make everything less frightening. He thanks them a great deal for that… but...

It’s just that… Well they’re just so… depressing sometimes…! He doesn’t want to blame them because it hardly seems like their fault! They’re a very kind person, it’s just an atmosphere around them… It brings him to tears if he isn’t careful…

He’s invited the MC to Purgatory Hall on multiple occasions to chat and try to make them smile… When they do, the gloom is dispelled - even just a little - and they’re a truly beautiful creature regardless. It’s just so unfortunate that their life brings so much sadness...

Even so, he actually likes the MC enough to consider basing a character on them if he ever wrote another book. Something about a gloomy but sweet protagonist at home in a world of darkness sounds appealing… doesn’t it?

Luke

He didn’t know how to feel about the MC when they met. At first, he actually thought they were just as unhappy as he was to be there due to how depressed they looked but when they told him that wasn't true, he was really confused...

The Devildom is a dark, brutish, and dangerous place. Why would anyone feel at home down here??

But… well… He would spend time with them at RAD between breaks (partially to help scare off their many, many demonic suitors) and it might be weird to say, but they really made the Devildom look beautiful… literally.

The world just looks better when they’re around! It’s really hard to describe because it’s not something you notice much until they leave, but when the MC is around everything looks more vibrant and inviting! The grass gets greener, flowers grow bigger, and butterflies/birds hover around wherever they are like they have their own gravity - the realm loves them!

It started getting hard for Luke to hang onto his disdain for the place when they made it look so appealing… And then they started talking to him about the Underworld and the creatures they’d befriended there… creatures a lot worse than any demons he’d seen there...

Like. If the MC can be good friends with a bunch of rude walking corpses, then he could probably make friends with a demon right? There’s nice ones… kind of…

Beel. He can make friends with Beel.

Like Simeon, he does feel bad that they seem so sad all the time… but unlike the older angel, he’s a bit more understanding that this is just how they are and enjoys his time with them regardless. (It helps a lot that just being around this little bean of a boy can lift their spirits anyway).

And you know what’s even better for him? When Lord Diavolo gives the MC tickets to things that they don’t want to go to, sometimes they’ll invite him along or give them to him instead!

He’s gone to the Devil’s Coast with MC and Simeon sooo many times by now and he loves it!! Maybe the Devildom isn’t so bad after all, I mean, it can be a lot of fun when you go to the right places, anyway.

Solomon

Oh, he finds them both deeply fascinating and utterly terrifying - so just his sort of test sub-er, person!

He kids (somewhat), Solomon isn’t that dumb/lacking in self-preservation instinct. Experimenting on a child of death in a land of the dead (even if it’s not their “home turf”) would be asking for trouble. They’d have more than enough ammunition to fight him off and if their father found out? Immortality wouldn’t even begin to save him...

That being said, questions aren’t necessarily experiments… and oh boy, does he have a lot of them.

If the MC isn’t being pestered by Diavolo or the brothers, then they’re probably having to put up with Solomon nipping at their heels trying to get them to use their powers or answer all sorts of “innocent” scientific questions…

“MC, reanimation of Greek dead requires a blood offering, correct? Do you have to sacrifice animals for that process or do you allow them to feast on your own?”

“MC, when you’re controlling a skeleton do you move the body as a whole or do you have to animate each individual bone due to their lack of ligaments?”

“Think fast!! Oh look, you just caught the skull of my good friend, Richard! Could you bring him back from that, or should I fetch the rest of him?” 🙂

They put up with it because, believe it or not, he’s not nearly the weirdest person they’ve ever met (a lot of crazy people drift in and out of the land of the dead…) and well… they’re a pretty lonely person too so it’s not like they have a lot of standards when it comes to friendships anyway.

But the second they breathe a word of this to Barbs or Diavolo, this boy is on his way to a royal restraining order… Where does he even get those skulls…?

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me undateables #obey me datables #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me luke #obey me solomon #obey me demigods #obey me requests

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semischarmed · 4 years ago

Text

Quintessence

Perfection is often sought after, but never achieved. It exists in a layer above the natural world, in a basal element of the universe. It is Quintessence. Aether. As humans, we are by nature imperfect beings. In truth, this feeds into that very same divine element, Aether. For in every person’s essence, in their spirit exists a hole. For some, it’s an undiscovered hobby. For others, it’s a person. Some are bigger than others, and some are tiny, but almost everyone has one of some sort. The rare few that are fully-filled are the most irresistible among us. Whole, perfect people. Pinnacle.

To me, the trick behind possession lies in that gap. To me, utilizing quintessence achieves the most perfect, most seamless, most permanent possession. We are all experts at the art in our own right, but each of us knew there had to be something greater that that temporary pleasure. Possession is inherently unnatural, so we soon all came to the conclusion that perfecting our art meant combining with the forces of nature, instead of opposing it. Let the natural world work in our favor, let 'possessed' be the stable form of our vessels in the world. My colleagues- they have their own ways about going things. They had… other ideas as to which means to use, which element to align to. I may be young, but this is my domain. I was confident in my hunch. And I would show my contemporaries why Quintessence was superior.

—

Heaven. That’s what I saw when I first met my roommate.

“Hey, looks like we’re roommates! I’m Will, good to meet you!”.

I shook his hand.

“Heh, so I’m an applied math major, but my parents have been pushing me to pick up the family business.” He chuckled warmly. “We’ll see where that goes- do you need any help unpacking, bro?”

I politely decline him, trying my hardest to reign in my emotions. He was perfect. Love at first sight.

We made great roommates too- maybe not so much friends, but we lived amazing together. Bathroom, trash, cleaning- we had it all down to a tee.

Still, living just a few feet next to the guy was endless torture. Walking by him in our small dorm room always made my insides jiggle. Butterflies welled whenever I caught the passing air as he walked to his desk. I practically melted every time he asked me for a favor. Not that they were ever truly bad. I couldn't say no to the guy. Such was his pull on me.

Will was a jet-setter too. Of course he was. Judging by the countless instagram posts and the quality of the clothes he wore, the boy was filthy rich. It's hard to not be jealous looking at your roommate casually plan out a trip to Hawaii to "de-stress". Sure. I couldn't blame him though, this was all he knew, this was his normal.

I actually asked him once why he even bothered dorming, given his apparent fortune. “I want the full college experience.” Like an angel descended from heaven, Will was just a bit clueless on what it was really like for everyone else. Well, not for long. I would encroach on this domain. Take him for my own, drag and bind him to our world. My world. Perfect myself through his flesh. I would show the others why this was this was the ultimate art. Quintessence.

I spent that first night practicing by tearing bits of my soul apart, melding its form before returning the mass to myself. I looked to the side to see my roommate in deep, peaceful sleep. Will.

—

Will mentioned in passing a few times how well he was doing in class, like he was only getting better and better with every lecture. He aced his midterms- I offered to go with him to a party to celebrate, but he wanted to grab some shakes instead. I thought it was kind of cute. My sweet, sweet, innocent Will.

Much like his grades, Will popularity across the school had skyrocketed as well. Every frat wanted him to rush theirs and a few people in my dorm have even offered to trade rooms with me, citing some transparent excuses. Like I'd ever let them have him. Something about him just felt "right" and he attracted others wherever he went. And of course he had- for the past few months, I had be been contorting parts of my soul, my very essence to fill in his. With each passing day, I fed more and more of myself into Will, perfectly fitting each piece into his hole, perfecting my future vessel.

I, on the other hand, have been showing the opposite effect. Depleted. Pale, sickly. His friends often wondered why he even bothered hanging out with me or why he didn't want to switch roommates.

This didn’t appear to phase Will in the slightest. My changes so far had been invisible to him- Perhaps it was the booster shots of pure "me" I had been giving him daily, like his own self recognized the parts of me in him as part of my whole. Who knows.

His newfound popularity and inherent wealth gave him a constant supply of suitors. Everyone in my dorm certainly wanted him. Everyone. He had an irresistible charm to himself. Of course, this meant he always had someone with him, though no one seemed to fill his hole quite right. He’d spend most of our fall semester with a variety of different people for days, weeks at the longest. As kind and friendly and approachable as he was- he seemed just a bit distant romantically. He was craving something, he just didn’t know what.

I watched him often from a distance, amused at his lack of understanding- not that I’d expect him to know about my art. Those others… it was obvious to me why they couldn’t ever fulfill him. Why none of them could last or make him happy. It was all about fit. They hadn't been spending near-every waking and sleeping moment with him. They didn’t fit his hole perfectly like I did. I kept him fed on a constant supply of my essence, in turn changing the shape of his hole with regularity. In a sense, I gave him a taste of quintessence, outlined for his body that I was the only route to fulfilling it, implanting a craving no one else could satisfy.

—

I took advantage of one particularly stormy night to do the deed. No one would hear us with the raging tempest outside our building.

I watched my future vessel stare at a page in deep thought. “What is that?”

He was studying some kind of math problem. “Eh, homework due tomorrow. It’s cool though, this one’s super easy”. My eyes glazed over trying to comprehend the symbols in front of me. I couldn’t wait to understand whatever that shit was, to own that brain, and the body to go along with it.

I waited for him to fall asleep to the sound of thunderstorms.

With rain pelting our window, and our room only lit by moonlight, I walked up to my Will.

I studied his sleeping form for a few moments, remarking on his shape, mesmerized.

It took a minute or so, but I finally regained composure. I began delicately undressing him. He didn’t move much when he slept, but it was still a bit of a struggle removing warm, silky pajamas off his form. I unbuttoned his shirt as well, slowly pulling the fabric to myself before setting it aside. Silk. Figures.

I ran my fingers through his floppy hair. God I wish I could have experienced you more like this… from the outside I took my nose up to his head giving him a sniff. Like Citrus- warm, bright pleasant sensations filled me.

That mouth was too good to not taste. And taste I did, giving Will a light, emotionally-driven kiss. Unable to control myself, I went further, graduating my light kiss into a full on make-out.

Instinctually, his body reciprocated, sucking in more of my essence all the while. I had to pull myself back. This dude slept like a rock.

Fingers traced his inner thigh, and I felt the tickle of his body hair as my hand glided across.

I stopped short of his cock, nestling my hand in a nest of his pubic hair, pondering slightly.

True, never seen the guy bring over someone that actually stayed the night. Boy must have exceptionally strong boundaries. Firm boundaries. I nod-impressed. I won’t. I smiled, once again looking at his slumbering face now with plump lips freshly open and wet from our exchange.

I move my hand quickly, coiling around his warm meat. I take the moment in, knowing this was further than most anyone had gotten with him. His body smiles, betraying its master as it knew it would soon become whole.

I pumped hard and pumped fast, not wasting a movement.

Will woke in a frenzy, looking at the outline of my hand, then at me then back at his rock hard cock, only barely constrained by his now-skintight boxer briefs. My arm slid across his abs in the process. They were tone and damp with sweat.

“I.. uh.. look I can explain-wait no! You! You’re doing this! What the fuck is this? Dude! What the fuck. Look man, I’m waiting till mar-”

I began to pull back. Perhaps I miscalculated. In the process, I accidentally grazed his warm cock. It alights in attention, quickly filling into my hand. I couldn't help but grasp it again.

Will shivered in sheer pleasure. He hesitated before panting and gyrating his hips to stimulate himself. “Fuck...no… wait… c-come back.. you-you can keep going”.

I very quickly began to get jealous of my own hands. I looked at Will expectantly. He’s deeply troubled, but entranced in lust-and perhaps entranced by the pull of my soul. I stopped a bit to adjust his cock out so I could finally see it for myself. “Ah…” He was still rock hard, though now a bit dejected by my abrupt halt. I couldn’t help it. I just sat there and marveled at the piece before me. Could this guy be any more perfect? Even in the moonlight, I could see it was massive, and pulsing slightly as blood kept filling in, expanding and hardening.

My mouth began to shape itself in anticipation. Now clearly in a commanding position, Will began to stroke my cheek tenderly. “Be a good roommate. Suck this dick clean, ok?” He winked. Hearing this side of him only served to further tug on my heartstrings. God I love this man.

Pleasure. First contact. Now I definitely had him further than anyone in this school.

I practically inhaled him as I followed his instruction. When he finally released, I made sure to ready myself. This was pure, concentrated Will. No way was I wasting any of this.

“Mmmmphhh” Holy shit! Will had so much of himself to give me. I thought back to how he had never done anything private since we started rooming together. No weird excuses for some alone time, no long showers or extended bathroom breaks... But it’s been months since we started rooming. I looked up to him with newfound awe. Will of fucking steel. Though at this very moment, his face only read pure relief and elation.

I couldn’t help but take some of his essence for myself, integrating it into me. Now we were both partially filled with each other’s soul. Still, I did wonder how taking that piece may have affected the guy. I watched him expectedly.

He was obviously spent, and as I searched his face for more emotion, he looked just a bit forlorn, like I hadn’t measured up.

I pout a little, thinking of the piece of him I accidentally took for myself. Damn. He looked like he was coming to some kind a conclusion, and based on his face, I needed to act fast.

“Dude, you’re sooo backed up... you know you coulda asked me for some alone time.” I began tenderly stroking his side.

“Well...I’ve never lived with someone before, so...you know- I don’t really know how any of this kind of stuff. You’re the best roommate I’ve ever had” he let out another sigh.

"I'm your only roommate, dude."

“But this.. I don't think“

Before he could finish, I ran my finger up his thigh again, leaning up chest, inhaling its scent for myself. I began to work my way up, tracing his Adam’s apple with my tongue before finally resting it in his mouth. Delicious. I sloppily kissed the man, accentuating the action by releasing a bit of my soul to backfill the piece I took. Aperitif.

Will gasps. “Oh fuck…”

“Roomy... fair’s fair, right?” I began rubbing my chest. “Your hot cum is still swimming inside me- this little piece of you I’m keeping forever.” I looked to him and grimaced. “But poor Will didn’t get anything for himself… Let me return the favor,” I gave a little more essence. That seemed to have had an impact. I began nodding as I watched for his reaction. “Fair’s. fair.”

“F-fair. Yeah…” he agreed breathlessly. He began nodding too. “Fair.”

I mount him from behind, stroking his back gently.

I drape his duvet over my back, around both of us. I moan a little in feeling the residual warmth of the blanket surrounding me, and the warmth in Wills body from in front. A taste of what’s to come.

“Uh..G-get on with it bro.. let’s..uh.. just get this over with” My man was a bit embarrassed but he obviously enjoying being toyed with like this. I found it endearing. He was quite nervous.

“Relax… What’s done is done, right? Let’s enjoy this for a bit.”

I begin by rubbing my palms up his back. I felt along his every ridge, up his spine. He was tone, sure, but the firm flesh in front of me read ‘Strength’. I continued rubbing and massaging his back with one arm and began to prep with my other.

"Yeah, you have no idea how hard it's been these past few months. Back home, I could have easily... well, whatever. Thanks for this, bro".

We sat there in focused huffs, continuing the motions as the rain continued to pour outside. I was so close.

I slammed my head to the back of his taking another deep whiff of his scent. One’s own body is nowhere near as fragrant when smelling from their own nose. I mark this scent in my memory. This was my scent. This is what I would smell like to other people-citrusy and fresh, and damp. Will.

I pushed my cock further in, causing Will’s mouth to open wider. A satisfied moan escaped his throat. I began to gyrate, feeding bits of my essence inside with every push. It was a gut punch to both his insides and his psyche.

“Jesus. Fuck. Oh god, it's like your dick is wearing me...Fuck. Keep going bro. Ffffff-”

“Don’t worry… I’m filling *huff* so deep in you *huff* you’re never getting this out.. I'll wear you *huff* right”.

I think he began to catch on to what I was doing, to what I had been doing, because he nodded it bitter recognition. "No wonder this year has been so good.. it's you, isn't it?" It didn’t matter. "Look, I appre-" He stopped himself short. I pushed deeper into him. "Whoops.."

It was far too late for Will. “YES! MORE! C’MON MAN YOU’RE SO CLOSE” Will screamed, now a slave to his soul’s desire to be whole. He reached back, pulling on my body and slamming me to his sweaty back. "GO! FINISH IT! COMPLETE ME"

Will roared as I finished inside him. He winced slightly as I jammed more than what his body had expected. A whole extra human’s worth of essence jammed up the ass of the man I loved. He let out a soft scream as I continued until every piece of my seed was inside.

In a flash of lightning, I completed my plans and the remains of my old body congealed into a mass of light. A weightless, ephemeral gauze-like substance. It was milky-white and shimmering. Concentrated essence of self with only one destination in mind- inside. There would be no going back.

I immediately dispersed once in his body to make us further-inseprable. As I phased into his being, I flooded his senses with pleasure, gently pulsing a few bits ever deeper inside so his body could acclimate to absorbing this much of my essence. I willingly digest my parts into Will’s body and he in turn took it all in, just as his body had been accustomed- no- taught to do. I completed the process, further binding myself to the man. Of course, it isn’t an exact science, and a bit of my overflow had to settle around him. Will looked the same, but felt just a bit bloated.

Still, we were whole. Finally whole. More than whole, in fact.

With a satisfied, weary smirk, Will patted his stomach before passing out. “Welcome home”.

As Will fell into unconsciousness as I began my work. He convulsed when parts of his body lit up to my control. In one final pulse, his back arched and I ascended to my rightful place as this body’s owner. A smile began to paint his face, but it was my smile.

With new hands still shaking from the endeavor, I begin giggling. Joy filled me when I felt Will’s lungs inside myself, breathing in and out as my own. Giggling turned to all out cackling, when the rest of my body’s sensations hit. It was raw selfishness, dragging Will to this world, to me, perfecting him by strapping his soul to my own. I couldn’t help but laugh. This divine body, this brilliant mind corrupted and contorted to fit a new master. To this body, I was god. As the storm continued raging beyond us, I finished laughing, feeling the wave of contentedness wash over myself, over a perfected possession. We stood up from the bed, emerging as one being at last. Art.

His lip quivered as he attempted to push the extra parts of me out. My greedy boy wanted to be whole without all the extra stuff-the extra me that came a long with it. I take back full control, reveling in hearing my Will-voice come out for the first time. “No can do roomy”.

I sniffed myself. Pleasant sensations filled me as his sweat and the remnants of his cologne coalesced in my nose. We were addicting. God, we were everything.

I went lightheaded when I first went to our reflection and saw his face look back. “Oh my fucking god I did it”.

I took note of the cute, angelic features of my new face, of the warm, virile new body I had sequestered myself in, and the gentle smile looking back. That smile very quickly turned wicked.

“….mmmmm god damn luxury”.

I managed to do it. Overstuffed him, filled him with more person than one person could ever fit, but I did it.

I was trembling in a mix of emotions. My new insides churned in excitement and my new arms shook in raw, unconfined bliss. “I fucking did it!”

These were my vocal cords now, and they spoke my words out his mouth-my mouth. Like velvet. Fuck, I did it.

I smirked a cocky expression, making sure to do so in front of the mirror. I’ve never seen such a face on Will, but this could only rile me up further. I ingrained this image in his brain, remembering this moment, the moment I took him in his entirety, the moment I took him for all eternity.

“This? This is mine” I taped his head with his fingers, and moaned gently as theorems and mathematical logic flooded my mind. I shook a little in ecstasy. My sense of being tingled with the influx of his knowledge, memories, mannerisms.

With his fingers fashioned like claws, I scratched at my new chest, swirling them all across my new sweaty pecs, and the abs that went along with it. “THIS-FUCK….YES… YES! YES! THIS IS MINE.”

I gave us a wink. “This is us now, Will.”

"This is me now." I gave our reflection a lick.

“Will. Will. William. Will. William. ” I repeat the name, relishing as my new label left my new tongue, chuckling manically and crying in jubilant expression. Will fits me so well. What a great name. This too was now mine forever. It felt natural to call myself this.

I make his voice reverberate and moan loudly, mouthing myself off in the mirror while arranging my new face in lewd, sinful expressions of the new desires Will’s body now had. Compared to the inherently polite, proper air he often exuded, it felt wrong. Yet by that same sense, this also felt so right.

The aftermath in the following hours were absolute hell. His body was not accustomed to encapsulating both my entire soul and the excess me that came along with it.

In fact, wearing him like this placed a dull, bloated pain on my soul. I didn’t care- the pleasure of being Will and containing a whole-self inside far exceeded any discomfort.

Feeling Will’s pain, his fatigue as my own was its own delight in its own special way, like a constant reminder of who I was wearing, and who I now was.

It took a few hours before it all settled down and we drifted off to sleep.

When I awoke, I looked at my acquired, transcended self in the mirror. Perfection.

My verdant new eyes near-shimmered as I stared at myself. Gently curled brown hair, youthful, glowing skin, hypnotic green eyes- My new body had a serene, natural quality to it, but paired with the angelic face I now possessed, we were heaven on earth. God we were beautiful.

His flesh and my being- a match made in paradise. Like a walking garden of Eden, I drew in everyone around me.

In fact, it became I drew in too much around me.

It was perhaps my only ‘flaw’. Having so much soul stuffed into a man brings about an irresistible quality in him. The extra life-force we now emanated must have been intoxicating to others. It didn’t matter to me. I was content remaining like this- that is until I began to feel a bit of my excess essence leak out in our shared sleep.

It happened a week after I became Will. Without my grip on ourselves, I began to feel his body release a bit of my essence. Barely conscious, Will’s body could only mumble one phrase before we both passed out. “Too much.”

When I awoke, I ran Will’s fingers all over our shared skin. I poked and prodded at my face, making sure everything was in order before letting out a sigh of relief.

Getting inside this man was easy-practically destiny. But staying in him, keeping us contained like this, this would be a problem. That phrase was gnawing at me too. There has to be something more to it. I repeated to myself over and over on my way to his math class, trying to glean insight.

“Too much”

-End-

Wanted to try bringing some elements from my other stories into this one. Hope you like it!

#male possession #male body control #male mind control

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