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talesofesther · 6 months ago

Text

𝔈𝔠𝔥𝔬𝔢𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔞 𝔉𝔩𝔞𝔪𝔢

↳ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

Aemond Targaryen x Reader/fem!OC

Series Summary: You made a promise to Aemond once, when you were young and naive, and the only friend he'd ever known; yet you abandoned him before you could fulfill it. Between broken bonds, a betrothal, and flames that still burn deep within you; this is the story of how you fell apart and found each other again.

A/N: My newest series is finally here, and it's one that I am incredibly excited about. I'm not going to say this is fully a reader-insert, because there will be a few minor characterizations for the main girl, I even considered writing this in third person but at the end of the day second person is the style I'm much more used to and comfortable with. However, I believe it is still "vague" enough that it can be considered a reader-insert too. All in all, I sincerely hope you can enjoy this story, I promise it'll be a good one. <3

Word count: 2k

Masterlist

"Tell me again."

From one of the highest points in the Red Keep, you could see the immensity of King's Landing and the waves of Blackwater Bay crashing to shore.

"Tell you what?"

The wind was cold yet gentle, dusk settled on the horizon; painting the skies and clouds in deep golden.

"The story of how you found your dragon."

You smiled, easy and knowing. Aemond has heard this story a dozen times already, yet you never refused to tell him just one more time, whenever he asked. From the glint in the young prince's eyes, you knew that it gave him hope that one day he would find a dragon of his own.

"My father, Laena, my sisters, and I were traveling again, we had stopped by a small town to let the dragons rest. And there, they told us they had spotted a rogue dragon. As wild as a lioness. She'd come out to hunt at night, during heavy rain and lightning storms." You motioned theatrically with your hands, an excited grin on your lips as you recounted the fateful night you'd met your dragon.

Aemond listened closely, as he always did, leaning his elbows on the balcony's balustrade and keeping his gaze attentively on you.

"One night, when we were staying at a house at the edge of town, I walked out while everyone was asleep. Do you know why?" You bit at the inside of your cheek, playing the usual game.

"You heard her," Aemond answered with the same spark of youthful joy.

"I did," you whispered as if it was a well-guarded secret, leaning closer to the boy. "I could hear her outside, the sound of her wings, her heavy steps on the ground. It was raining, and dark, but I felt as if... as if she was calling to me." You placed a hand over your heart.

"I think Caraxes heard when I got out, I think I ended up waking him," both you and Aemond chuckled. "But he kept quiet when he saw it was me. I walked for a while during that night, until..." You paused dramatically, and Aemond grinned. "Until I saw her, feasting on a stolen lamb."

Aemond's eyes were sparkling, he was drinking in every word.

"She was so pretty," you recalled with a soft smile, looking out to the horizon and the darkening sky. "I could see the dark blue of her scales, and then the brighter blue of her wings. Her horns were long and pointy, and she had this patch of fur in between them and on the back of her neck that I'd never seen before."

"She didn't attack you," Aemond mumbled, more a statement than a question; he knew the answer.

You shook your head; "No, she just looked at me with those beautiful eyes, they looked like they were glowing. And then she came closer, baring her teeth, but I asked her to stay calm. Told her I was a friend." You picked at your nails, a fondly nostalgic look in your eyes. "She followed me back home after that. I think she liked that I wasn't afraid of her. Father was furious for what I had done, but I think he was even more curious about my new dragon." You shrugged, with a cheeky grin, "The next morning, I chose to ride her for the first time, and she let me. We don't know if she ever had a rider before me, but we share a deep bond now."

"You are so lucky," Aemond told you, his voice low and eyes downcast; not because of your story, but because the boy wished to have the same luck you did.

Turning your head to try and catch his gaze, you spoke with conviction, "You're going to find your dragon soon, Aemond, I know you will. And when you do, we're going to fly together over all of King's Landing, I promise you."

Despite the solemn look in his eyes, the young Aemond smiled.

You extended a hand to him then, "Come on, your mother will be mad if we're late to supper… again." Wiggling your fingers for him, you held back a grin.

Aemond rolled his eyes halfheartedly, taking your hand anyway.

You walked together through the hallways of the castle, blissfully innocent and unaware of the amused whispers between the maids about how you two would still marry someday.

─── ⋄✧⋄ ───

Two nights later, Aemond did find his dragon. However, it came at a cost.

The day had been one filled with grief. Laena had passed away after trying to give birth to her third child. While she was not your birth mother, you had spent enough years by her side to consider her something similar to it; as she was, after all, the closest thing to a mother that you knew. She had always been kind to you, treating you no different than how she treated your two half-sisters.

You mourned her loss, the salty air of the sea mixing with the salt of your tears as you watched the ceremony unfold.

As soon as she had learned of her third pregnancy, Laena wanted to return home. Your father eventually agreed to halt the travelers life for her sake, and once King Viserys got word of your return he offered all of you a home in King's Landing again. Laena had been happy with the agreement since her brother lived there too.

And so that's how you came to meet Aemond. That was several months ago, yet it sometimes feels like it was just yesterday.

Tonight, you had gone to bed with red and puffy eyes, but it didn't take long for the distant sound of fast-paced steps and arguing to pull you from your sleep. You got up, rubbed your still tired eyes, and tiptoed towards the commotion, bare feet padding over the cold stone floor of Driftmark.

After turning corners and almost getting lost in the infinite hallways, you found your family. Everyone stood around the lit fire of the throne room fireplace while the Maester tended to someone you couldn't yet see as the back of the chair they were sitting on blocked your view.

Alicent was shouting, Rhaenyra and her sons were shouting, everyone was shouting; you heard the sharp words yet couldn't make much sense of them.

You spotted your father leaning against a pillar, a couple of feet away from everyone, and ran up to him, immediately clinging to the fabric of his vest and looking up at him with questioning eyes. He didn't speak, simply lay a hand on your back and then on your head, in the best comforting manner he could muster.

The shouting match continued until Viserys had to raise his own voice, everyone in the spacious room stayed quiet for a moment then. You could hear your shaky breath, feeling it in your bones that something was wrong. You gripped tighter onto your father, leaning your head against him.

Breaking the silence, Viserys demanded answers from Aemond, and your heartbeat sped up at the sound of your friend's name. And then his mother was speaking about the injustice of him being maimed. And when Rhaenyra mercilessly demanded that he be questioned, Aemond finally looked in her direction, and consequently, yours.

You saw it then. Deep red blood glinting in the low light of the fire, painful stitches stretching skin while also holding it together, his eye sewn shut. You couldn't hold back a gasp at the sight of him, the whole left side of his face now forever marked with an angry, deep cut that went from his forehead, over his eye, and down to the middle of his cheek. Seeing your friend like this twisted your stomach in all the wrong ways and made you feel like puking out your dinner, you were almost poking holes in your father's vest with how tight you were gripping it, already feeling your eyes burn with unshed tears.

Aemond met your gaze from afar, he looked almost as stunned and lost as you; but he was also quick to look away and hide behind the back of his chair again.

You didn't hear much of the rest of the fight then, all turning into muffled noise to your ears as your father took hold of your hand to pull you forward with him and into the commotion when Alicent picked up a dagger, dashing towards Rhaenyra. The sight of Aemond's bruised and slashed face forever burnt into the back of your mind.

The only voice you clearly heard again, was his; "Do not mourn me, mother. It was a fair exchange. I may have lost an eye, but I gained a dragon."

─── ⋄✧⋄ ───

You were only able to meet Aemond again on the next day, minutes before both of you had to leave Driftmark.

You found him in a secluded hallway, he looked out at sea through the large windows, watching as they readied his ship for departure, the left side of his face carefully bandaged to keep the cut clean. Holding onto the sides of your dress so as not to step on it, you ran to him.

He heard you, of course he did, you were hardly the sneakiest of people. Part of him wanted to turn away and leave, deeply ashamed of the fresh scar marking his skin; perhaps even afraid that it might scare you off. But you were his friend. His only friend.

"Aemond..." you spoke softly when you reached him, biting at the inside of your cheek and nervously gripping onto the cotton fabric of your lilac dress. You were only kids; you didn't know what to say to someone who'd just lost a part of himself, and Aemond cowered under your gaze, making himself smaller as shame and timidness filled his gut.

"Does it... hurt?" You chose to ask, voice hesitant.

The young prince took his time, pursing his lips as he looked down at his feet and then out the window again. "Yes," he admitted, "but less than it did last night."

"I'm sorry," you said without a second thought.

Aemond glanced in your direction with the corner of his good eye, refusing to turn toward you completely. "Are you not upset that I claimed your step-mother's dragon?"

The corners of your lips turned up into a small smile, it held sorrow and affection in equal measures. "I'm not." You stepped closer to him and turned to look out the window as well, watching as gentle waves washed to shore. You bumped your shoulder onto his. "I'm glad it's you."

For several moments you stood in silence, simply enjoying the easeness that came with each other's company.

Alicent's voice was the one to eventually break the quiet. "Aemond," she called.

Both you and him turned in the direction of her voice, finding her looking at you with a fond smile on her lips. "It's time to go, my dear." She gestured outside, to where their ship awaited, now ready to set sail. Aemond nodded at her words and she turned around, making her way to the docks.

The prince, however, made no effort to leave, he kept his gaze focused outside, following a flock of birds that overflown the ocean.

You followed it too, the sight bringing an idea to your mind. You had a tentative smile on your lips before you even started speaking; "You should go," despite not looking at you directly, you noticed Aemond's attention shifting to you. "I'll meet you again once we reach King's Landing, and... now that you have a dragon, perhaps we'll soon be able to fly over it together, right?" Your voice held a hopeful tone as you spoke.

For the first time since he had lost his eye, Aemond smiled; a real smile that stretched the fresh stitches on his cheek and gave a prickling feeling to the sensitive skin around them, but he didn't mind. He finally turned to look at you fully, all hopeful excitement and pink cheeks.

"We will," he affirmed without losing his grin. He held your gaze for a moment longer, lips parting as if he wanted to say something more, but didn't.

From the same window, you watched, now alone, as Aemond's ship sailed away; the colossal figure of Vhagar flying close to it, as if to protect her new rider.

Later this same day, your father married Rhaenyra, taking both you and your sisters to live in Dragonstone without ceremony.

You never said goodbye to Aemond. You would have, if you knew you would not be seeing him again for many years to come.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Next chapter

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Thank you for reading this chapter. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

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#aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond one eye #aemond fanfiction #aemond imagine #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd x reader #aemond x you #aemond x fem!reader #imagine #fanfic #angst #fluff #aemond targaryen x reader #my story #echoes of a flame

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mothandpidgeon · 1 month ago

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Nine Lives (witch's familiar!Ezra x witch!f!reader) - Part 4

Moth's Masterlist // follow @mothandpidgeon-updates and turn on notifications to stay updated with my fics!

SERIES MASTERLIST

pairing: witch's familiar!Ezra x witch!f!reader

rating: E MDNI

summary: As you came into your powers and your curves filled in, Ezra realized he feelings for you were more than just affection. The only problem? He's a 300 year old crused witch. Oh, and he's a cat.

contents: age gap (like 300 years), nudity, alcohol, only one bed, masturbation, moth never uses y/n.

wc: 7.1k

a/n: Hello again, my friends. This chapter took much, MUCH longer than I expected and also much longer. It probably would have been a lot faster had i not been encouraged to add some smut you know who you are. There are at least 3 more parts to this story. Thank you for being on this journey!

Big thank you to @lowlights and @schnarfer for advice on this and to @moonlitbirdie for betaing and loving me unconditionally.

🐈‍⬛

He’s having that dream again. The one where he’s human and you’re holding him, lips against his shoulderblade, fingers stroking the coarse hairs low on his belly. He’d live in these dreams if he could.

After the disappointment of the night before, Ezra revels in it, even if this is fleeting.

He should never have gotten his hopes up. It wasn’t just the risk to consider but the complexity of the spell. You’re not a child but as witches go, your powers are still young. And, with his last minute decision, the two of you bodged together the potion in less than a day. The chances that it would have been successful were so slim, he’d been a fool to believe that you could pull off such a feat. He’d been caught up in the moment, your unfailing belief in him, the tantalizing question what if…

At least he has his dreams. Half awake, Ezra reminds himself that had the spell had worked, he wouldn’t be laying naked in your arms. There’s no knowing how things would change if he did.

Sinking into the sweetness of the dream, he can’t help but roll over and bury his face in your neck, purring against your pulse. Instead of being met with your mouth, your hands searching for more of him, you scream.

It’s enough not only to wake him but startle him out of the bed. What would normally be a swift leap off of the mattress, landing on his feet, is an inelegant tumble to the floor, knocking his head and pulling the sheets off with him. You’re actually shrieking. It’s not just some figment of his imagination. A string of creative expletives leave you as Ezra tries to untangle himself from the covers. When he finally rights himself, his heart beating like a rabbit, he finds you pressed against the headboard with a look of terror on your face.

“What the fuck! What the fuck!” you shout, your heels digging in the mattress as you scoot away from him.

“Easy! It’s me, little mage! It’s me!” he says, breathless.

Your eyes somehow manage to grow even wider.

“Ezra?” you say, your voice barely a whisper. “It worked.”

His head is spinning so quickly that your words take a moment to sink in. Another is spent in disbelief as he look down at his hands, outstretched in submission. Ten fingers. There are legs snarled in the bedsheets not covered in black fur but with wiry hairs.

Ezra touches his nose, still bent from where he broke it in his youth. He feels the divot of the scar on his cheek, the whiskers on his upper lip. All as he was.

He stares, speechless for once in his life.

“Ez, it fucking worked!” you cry, tumbling across the bed and diving over the side.

You clasp your hands on either side of his face, your eyes wild with delight, and your laughter is a mix of joy and relief. He joins you, it’s contagious, laughing and gripping into your shoulders. If he didn’t feel your palms against his cheeks, he’d think this was still a dream.

Luckily he has the presence of mind not to plant a kiss on your mouth though with the amount of glee bouncing between the two of you, he doubts you’d protest.

“We did it!” you say.

“You did it,” Ezra corrects, marveling at you.

You amaze him more each day. Not only did you do some incredible and complex magic but you foresaw it all. Beautiful, clever, talented. And now you’ve given him his greatest gift. He’s human once more.

Your eyes dance across his face in turn, taking in the new details

“It’s really you,” you say.

You stroke at his face with your thumb. It’s a light touch but to Ezra, the sensation is so powerful he’s afraid he’ll shatter into a thousand pieces.

You smile softly and reach for his hair. “Your patch,” you say, twisting the white strands out of his forehead.

“Oh, Ez!” you exclaim.

Overwhelmed by it all, a dam bursts. Tears are slipping down his face without him even knowing. Centuries of them finally making their escape.

You lean in, press your forehead against his as you have so many times before yet it’s so new. The bridge of your nose brushes against his, your lips hover so close he can feel your breath. You stroke behind his ear, fingers in his hair, a sensation that’s familiar, grounding.

He’s so grateful for you, for your faith in him.

You sniffle and he realizes that you’re just as emotional. Your cheeks glisten with tears when you pull away, still shaking your head in disbelief.

“Thank you,” Ezra says. Chokes. He’s never done this properly though he’s tried to show it. It’s too difficult to put into words, even for someone as verbose as he is. He’s grateful with a depth he can’t find words for though he’s always considered himself a master of them.

Tears well in your eyes again but these aren’t like the joyful ones you just shed. Your lips quiver. Ezra catches one as it slides down your cheek with his fingertips. He’s watched you cry so many times and he’s always wanted to do that.

You throw your arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight embrace. It feels better than he’s ever imagined. You fit in his arms so perfectly, he could hold you for a thousand years. He inhales your scent, familiar to him but different now. His senses have dulled but drawn close, he loses himself in it.

“Ezra,” you say after a long moment. “I just realized. You’re totally naked right now.”

Perhaps he should be embarrassed, worried that this is your first glimpse of him and you’ve seen all that there is to see. But he couldn’t care less.

The two of you descend into giggles.

—

“This is how I’m to make my debut in the world?” Ezra asks, stepping out of your bedroom.

He’s wearing the clothes you picked out for him, all that you could find that would encompass his broad frame. Your sweatpants are cinched tight around his slim waist, ending far above his ankles. Below that, his toes overhang the edge of your old flip flops. The outfit is finished with a big sweatshirt you bought several Halloweens ago– the words Witch, please emblazoned on the front in a cutesy font.

A startled snort leaves you and he scowls.

“I’m sorry,” you say, covering your smile with both hands. “You look–”

“Like a buffoon,” he says.

“Like you need to go shopping,” you correct.

You wait for Ezra outside of the dressing room, your back pressed against the door. The very first stop outside of the confines of your apartment is the local department store to get him something normal to wear. Ezra’s an oddity, everything from the way he speaks to his awkwardness adjusting to walking on two legs make him stick out. An ironic sweatshirt and sandals aren’t going to help him blend.

The excitement is still buzzing through your veins. Every few minutes you want to open the changing room door and make sure that he’s still there, still human. A couple of times you even peek under the door just to see his feet haven’t turned back into paws. It’s really happening. You’re out in the world with Ezra. Ezra the human, a man. You changed him yourself, just as your dream had predicted, but you’re less fixated on the feat of magic and more on what he’s transformed into.

Ezra’s not at all who you were expecting under the fur. He’s remarkably handsome. Tall and broad shouldered. A strong nose accentuated by a dark mustache. His mouth is almost always set in a pout, full bottom lip turned out, jaw dotted with stubble.

He’s not entirely unrecognizable. There’s something about the mirth in his smile that feels familiar, a slyness in his eye.

Still It’s hard to believe that this is your Ezra, the little cat that curled up in your lap, tiptoed behind you on the back of the couch. He’s all man, big enough to swallow you up in his embrace. If you were strangers, you’d be too intimidated to even look him in the eye.

You giggle to yourself at how ridiculous that thought is. He’s Ezra. Your best friend. It doesn’t matter what he looks like. And if you told him he was good looking he’d never shut up about it.

“What’s so funny?” he asks from the other side of the door, his voice muffled as he brings a shirt over his head.

“Just thinking about how my sweats fit you,” you say.

“Breathe a word of that to a soul—“ he grumbles.

“Are you done yet?”

He sighs and you hear the latch on the door and there he is again. It knocks the air out of your lungs to be face to face with him once again, with that new face. Ezra stares back at you. His eyes are nothing like those sharp, golden eyes you’ve known for so many years. They’re deep brown, big and round— funny enough, more like a puppy dog than a cat.

Your gaze falls down onto the outfit he’s chosen.

”What happened here?” You ask.

His shirt is only half buttoned leaving a large swath of that golden chest in view, a constellation of freckles dotting his neck clavicle. You noticed them when he was sprawled out on your bedroom floor, tried to keep your focus on those instead of letting your eyes wander too much.

”I’m afraid I haven’t gained mastery over my thumbs yet,” he admits sheepishly.

“Let me.” You try to hide your grin.

You work the buttons, careful not to let your knuckles brush his front. His warmth radiates through the thin cotton and you’re suddenly very aware of how close you’re standing. It shouldn’t be so tense. This is the same Ezra after all, the cat you snuggled to sleep every night. Nothing’s changed between you and yet it’s definitely not the same. You feel him watching you and you swear he’s holding his breath. He shifts uncomfortably.

”Are you sure these trousers are right?” He asks finally, palms grazing the fronts of his jeans. “They’re exceedingly restrictive.”

”When’s the last time you wore pants?” You ask him.

“When you tried to put me in that ridiculous cowboy get up,” he reminds you.

“You were so cute!” you laugh, remembering how he flopped down on the floor in protest.

He scoffs.

“Come see yourself,” you say, motioning towards the trio full length mirrors at the end of the hall of dressing rooms.

Ezra’s a sight to behold in his new outfit. A crisp white shirt tucked into a pair of dark jeans. If you squint you can see the man he once was in one of those romantic billowy shirts.

“Looks good,” you say.

Ezra’s furrowed brow smooths and he catches your eye in the mirror with a bashful smile.

“You have a dimple,” you say.

You keep noticing new things about him as the day goes on. There’s a little bald patch in his beard, wrinkles around his eyes when he laughs.

“I suppose I forgot,” he says, blushing. “Am I not what you expected?”

If you didn’t know him better, you’d think he sounded nervous.

“I don’t know,” you say. He’s not what you pictured yet he’s exactly right in every way. He’s better than you pictured. He looks like that. How could you expect he was existing in your presence all this time?

You remind yourself quickly how wrong it is to be thinking of Ezra that way. He’s the closest thing you have to a brother. How many nights did you stay up pouring your heart out to him about life? It’s just the novelty, you assure yourself. Once you get used to him, it’ll be different.

“I guess I thought you’d look like Ichabod Crane,” you tease.

“Hilarious.”

––

“You should go to the Grand Canyon,” you say.

All night, you’ve been brainstorming a list for Ezra, all of the things he can finally do now that he’s turned. The two of you already crossed off the first thing— eat dinner at a fancy restaurant— and you’re working on the second item— drinks at the local watering hole.

It’s a busy Saturday night but you worked some magic to get a cozy table. The place is rustic by design, the kind of bar invented for the Brooklyn transplants that are renovating barns into Air BnBs.

It’s chock full of mortals but Ezra couldn’t care less if he were surrounded by the witch hunters of Salem, just being out and about with you feels like a thrill.

“What about having a human body is necessary to visit the Grand Canyon?” Ezra asks.

The more drinks you had in you, the more esoteric the ideas became.

“I don’t know. You could hike?” you say.

“I think I had the advantage with four legs. I’ll pass,” he says.

“I guess you’re right,” you say. Then you point an excited finger at him. “Learn to drive!”

He tilts his head, considering it but you’re already onto the next one.

“Dancing!”

“I’m not sure I know how it’s done these days,” he says. He’d enjoyed dancing when he was human the first time, mainly because it gave him ample opportunity to touch and flirt.

“I don’t know. You just move,” you tell him. “Come on. I’ll dance with you right now.” You reach your hand out for him across the table to show that you really mean it.

Ezra’s seen you dance hundreds of times. At witches gatherings, of course, but many more times in the kitchen, wearing your pajamas and singing off key, you scooping him up and rocking him to the beat. You might not be a good dancer, he’s not one to judge, but he’s always loved watching your hips find a rhythm.

He’s still unsteady on his feet with less than 24 hours on his new legs and yet he couldn’t care less if he looks a fool if it means he can dance with you. The two of you are sure to draw attention— no one else is dancing despite the fact that the music’s so loud he has to shout to be heard. That doesn’t bother him. Let these mortals see you with him for once. Let him pretend for a moment that you’re his.

He takes your hand, his heart speeding up in anticipation of your body being close, when your face falls. Your gaze is somewhere past him and you pull out of his grasp.

“Oh, fuck,” you say.

Ezra looks over his shoulder to see a familiar face. A lanky guy carrying a guitar case stops in his tracks when he spies you. The last time Ezra saw this mortal he had his paws all over you.

“Shit. I completely forgot. Connor’s playing a gig here tonight. He invited me,” you groan.

This fuck. Ezra’s joyous mood is jolted by the memory of Connor slobbering over your neck, the sounds of the two of you on the couch that he tried desperately to block out, the jealousy that sickened him. Here was one of the mortals that had touched and tasted you in the way Ezra had only dreamed interrupting his first chance to truly be close to you.

But his lips crack into a wicked smile as Connor’s face twists in disappointment. Ezra knows how it looks to him. You’re here at his show where he hoped to woo you with song and you’re cozied up to another man. How many times had Ezra himself been forced to endure such humiliation?

“Hey,” you say with unconvincing friendliness, selling it by standing up to offer a hug when Connor finally works up the nerve to come by.

He keeps a wary eye on Ezra who in turn sits up straighter, chest out. He makes himself larger the same way he would passing one of the strays in the graveyard. It’s been hard to adjust to his new body, constantly bumping into things because he’s bigger, off balance without a tail. But right now, he couldn’t be more pleased with his new form.

“Who’s your friend?” Connor asks without exchanging any pleasantries. He’s not masking his annoyance very well.

“Oh. This is—“

“Ezra,” Ezra offers.

“Hey,” Connor says dismissively.

“He’s a friend of mine,” you add quickly. “Wanted to tag along to your show.”

“I hear you’re quite the talent,” he says.

There’s a twitch in Connor’s brow as you kick Ezra under the table.

“I guess you need to go set up,” you encourage, so ready to be rid of him.

Ezra has other plans.

“You must have time for a drink first. What’ll it be?” He asks. He can feel your eyes on him, trying to figure out his ulterior motive.

“IPA,” Connor answers after a moment’s hesitation.

Ezra’s powers tingle as he waves over the waitress.

Connor finds a chair and joins you at the little table. The beer sets his mind at ease as you bullshit about how Ezra is an old friend, trying to save this guy’s pride. It seems like he buys it. Like all mortals, he’s a bit dim.

He’s ridiculous, too. Talks a lot without asking you questions. Thinks he’s terribly interesting when he’s no different from the other mortal men that have shared your bed.

“Isn’t your cat’s name Ezra?” Connor finally realizes after droning on about David Bowie as if he were the one that heard an original pressing of Ziggy Stardust.

You stutter for a moment but you don’t have to come up with an answer because Ezra chimes in.

“Now, what was it you were attempting to elucidate with regards to psychedelic rock?” Ezra asks.

You stifle a laugh, choking down some of your drink to hide it. This time, beneath the table you’re pressing your knee into his.

“Uh,” Connor says, trying to gather his thoughts. “Yeah.”

He clears his throat, runs a hand through his hair then reaches for his beer again.

“Well a lot of people think it starts with The Beatles but actually,” Connor lifts his drink to his lips in a theatrical pause, taking a swig, but his expression contorts in confusion, then disgust. He spits the beer back into his glass and with it comes a spider, it’s spindly legs thrashing about wildly. “Ah! Fuck!” he sputters.

In his fright, Connor’s arms flail cartoonishly. The glass flies from his grasp and hits the table top, spilling its contents in all directions. You cry out, jumping up to avoid getting a lap full of IPA. The spider spins in the slippery puddle, trying to scurry every which way. Connor tries to distance himself from the arachnid but he legs of his chair catch and he topples over backwards onto the floor.

All conversation dies away around you as the other patrons have turned to watch the chaotic scene– Connor’s feet pointed up towards the ceiling, the floor beneath the table pooling with spilled beer. Ezra sits cool as a cucumber, his side of the table miraculously dry.

”Careful there, Connor,” he says. “Just a pretty little spider.”

You shoot him a look and he shrugs innocently. Your eyes say behave but it’s contradicted by a budding smile.

“You good?” you ask.

Connor lays there wincing, probably much more embarrassed than he is bruised. Ezra offers a hand to help him up, all friendly smiles. Connor scowls but he has no choice but to accept, letting himself be hoisted to his feet by the other man. The crowd loses interest as Connor dusts himself off.

“What a tumult,” Ezra says with a laugh. He slaps Connor on the shoulder so hard that he stumbles forward.

The waitress comes over with a bar rag and a judgemental look.

“Did you hurt yourself?” You ask.

”I’m fine,” Connor answers a little too quickly. He flattens his ruffled hair. “Listen, maybe I should just go warm up.” He motions towards the little platform that serves as the stage.

”A wise idea,” Ezra says and Connor darts away.

”You’re bad,” you say but you’re practically bursting with laughter.

Ezra considers continuing his mischief while Connor’s performing— make him play the wrong notes or break a guitar string— but he doesn’t have to. Connor’s eyes keep finding you as he sings his whiney little songs and each time, Ezra’s right there. Leaning in close to talk to you over the music, making little quips that have you close to spitting out your drink. Right now, you couldn’t care less about this mortal, busy trying to convince Ezra that karaoke should be added to his adventure list.

“Let’s go,” you say after draining your glass.

“But your friend’s not done,” he teases.

“I think we’ve heard enough,” you say.

You offer Connor a sad little wave as you get up from the table, taking Ezra’s hand in yours to lead him through the throng of people crowding the bar.

He watches Connor’s face fall as his eyes follow you to the exit. It’s a silly little revenge but to Ezra it’s delicious, a comeuppance for every mortal that’s been in your bed. Maybe Connor thinks you’re taking Ezra home to do the same to him. Good. It’s so delightful that Ezra doesn’t even care that it isn’t true.

––

“What have I unleashed on the world?” you ask with laughter, crossing the threshold of your apartment.

“I have no idea to what you are referring,” Ezra says but there’s a smirk on his lips.

“You’ve gone from hairballs in shoes to public humiliation.” You should be more sympathetic to poor Connor but you can’t stop giggling. Every time you recall the sight of him flying backwards, flapping his arms, you’re in stitches again.

“Just a little harmless magic to warm up my powers,” he replies. “Not to worry, little mage, I’m sure he’ll still be more than happy to accept a booty call.”

You shake your head. Between the awful conversation, the spew of spider, and the wailing of his songs, you have no interest in revisiting things with Connor.

In the kitchen you pour two glasses of water, adding a few drops of a tincture you keep handy for hangovers. You’re still a little tipsy, will probably wake up with a headache in the morning, but you don’t care. You can’t remember the last time you had so much fun with another witch. Not that it should surprise you. It’s Ezra after all.

”You know, you can’t fuck with these mortals too much. You do that to the wrong guy and they’ll start hunting us again,” you warn. You hand Ezra one of the glasses and flop down on the couch beside him.

“But it’s alright to toy with their emotions?” Ezra retorts. “How many hearts have you broken?”

You scoff in mock offense but you know he’s right. You’ve never let yourself get attached to any mortals. Somewhere, deep down, you knew you’d never have a serious relationship with one of them so there was no fear of falling in love, no worry about their feelings, no risk of getting hurt.

Now that you’ve stopped moving, fatigue sets in. You rest your head on Ezra’s shoulder. You’re starting to get used to the fact that you can actually do that but it hasn’t gotten old yet. An absent grin plays on your lips.

“Did you have a good first human day?” you ask.

You feel his chuckle under your cheek.

“I did indeed,” he says.

Your smile widens. Ezra’s arm wraps around your shoulders, his fingers gently grazing circles over your sleeve, and you nuzzle further into his chest.

“Thank you, little mage,” he says.

”Mm,” is all you manage.

Your heavy eyelids begin to drift closed. It’s so cozy, you imagine yourself as a little cat in Ezra’s arms. You wonder if this is how it felt for him, cuddled in your lap, getting scritches under his chin, and you swear you’re purring. No, you’ve fallen asleep and started snoring.

You force yourself awake with a groan. Ezra’s sitting contentedly beside you, watching you shift and stretch.

“I’ve got to sleep,” you yawn and manage to drag yourself onto your feet.

Ezra doesn’t move, just nods and says, “Good night.”

“Are you staying up?” you ask. He must be exhausted after such a roller coaster of a day.

“I think I’ll sleep here,” he tells you.

You falter just outside of your bedroom.

“You don’t have to,” you say.

“I should,” he says.

“Oh. Okay.” You’re not sure why it hurts. “Well, then you take the bed. I'll sleep out here,” you offer.

“It’s your bed,” he says.

A pang of guilt punches you in the gut. How many times had you reminded him of that?

“It’s alright. I’ve slept here on numerous occasions,” he assures you.

You linger for a moment, trying to come up with some good reason why he shouldn’t stay on the couch. It shouldn’t be important to you. He might want his own space, some privacy after all these years, yet it feels like you’re losing something.

“Let me get some sheets—“

“I know where the linens are,” he says. Obviously. He lives here too.

Eventually you have to stop standing there like a weirdo and go to the bedroom. Door open or closed? You leave it somewhere in between.

“G’night,” you say.

You lay in bed listening to Ezra in the linen closet, then shucking his jeans and settling on the sofa. Suddenly you’re wide awake and sober as a judge, ruminating on what this means for the future. The two of you can only slip further and further away. He wants his own place to sleep, he’ll want his own place to live. It’s only natural. He’s not yours anymore. That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it?

You roll over, pulling the covers up to your ears. Then off. You punch your pillow into shape. You strain your ears, listening for Ezra's breathing in the next room. Is he sleeping? You lean off the side of your bed, peering into the darkness and do your best to make out his form in the shadows.

Soon Ezra will have his own life, his own friends. He’s always been his own person. At least that’s what you’ve always said. How long have you been deluding yourself?

You shift again, grabbing your pillow and squeezing it in your arms to mimic his cat’s body. No luck. Nothing’s the same as Ezra. The occasions when you’ve fallen asleep without him clutched to you have been few and far between. Loneliness aches in your chest. This wasn’t something you’d thought through before you cast your spell.

Finally you throw back the sheets and march into the living room.

Ezra lays on the little couch as best he can, bare to the waist clad only in the boxers you made him buy. One of his long legs is sprawled over the side of the couch, the other tucked under his body. His eyes are wide open, staring up at the ceiling, an arm folded beneath his head.

“I can’t sleep,” you say.

“Likewise,” he says.

“This is ridiculous. Ez, you’ve always slept with me,” you complain.

“That was different,” he says, sitting up on an elbow.

“Well–” You want to tell him that nothing’s changed but it doesn’t really feel like the truth. Everything’s felt different today. You throw up your hands. “This is weird.”

He looks at you for a long time, the swell of his bottom lip turning into a deep frown.

“Just. Come on,” you say.

You leave the door open for him as you go back to your room and climb into bed. It’s his turn to hesitate, loitering in the doorway. Moonlight catches on the slope of his shoulder and the angle of his nose, glints in his unsure eyes. You sit with your arms crossed until finally he relents.

It’s certainly not the same as it was to have your cat beside you. Ezra occupies a large part of your double bed but he leaves a wide swath of mattress between you, keeping his limbs close to his body. Your instincts tell you to reach out for him but you don’t want to overstep this new boundary.

Despite the awkwardness, the delicate balance neither of you want to upset, feeling his warmth on the sheets, you’re finally able to breathe a sigh and sink into your pillow at last. His warm eyes gaze at you, giving you a long, slow blink.

“Better?” he asks.

“Mhm,” you answer.

And soon you’re both fast asleep.

––

Ezra’s cock greets him in the morning like an old friend.

He can feel your breasts warm against his back, your arm curled around his waist the same as always. Despite his efforts to keep his distance, you found each other in the night, sleeping the only way you know how. His body responded in kind.

This was what he feared, why he tried– briefly– to be good and sleep on the couch. Though to say that you’d twisted his arm was a lie. He’d given in far too quickly because he wanted you too much.

He can’t keep thinking about you like this if he wants to stay close to you, if he plans on surviving as a human. But all he wants to do is crawl down the bed, bury his face between your thighs, and make you his.

Before he does something rash, he slips away from you. You’re fast asleep thanks to the drinks and the late night. As Ezra rolls off the mattress, you let out a complaint, a little whimper that goes straight to his groin. He freezes, cock aching, and watches you roll over. You’re beautiful bathed in morning light, the sheets laying gently across your curves. If only he could run his hand over their outline.

His movements are not exactly cat-like as he creeps into the bathroom, the old wooden floors protesting with each step. As soon as the lock clicks he’s divesting himself of these ridiculous underthings. And there he is, that old menace. His length glistens with leaking precum, tip flushed red, begging to be touched. Ezra grips the base carefully but it still elicits a groan. He’s too sensitive— hundreds of years of pent up desire and a night beside you have him dizzy.

He gives himself an experimental stroke and it’s like lightning. His knees buckle and he has to hold himself up with his palm against the back of the door. With a silent curse and a steadying breath, Ezra spits into his fist and goes again. Slow, gentle. He knows he won’t last but he’s afraid his new body won’t be able to take the rapture. It’s divine torture, his mind soon swimming in pleasure.

Every dream he’s had, each time you danced under the moon or came out of the shower skin beaded with water, it all rushes past his eyes a cacophony of obscenities. Thank the stars you can’t see him like this, more animalistic than when he was one. Repulsive. Fucking his fist as he thinks of you, the only witch that’s ever cared for him. Defiling you in his mind.

He promises his guilty conscience that he’ll never do this again. He just needs it this once as his muscles strain and tighten. It’s bliss and agony all at once and he’s so close to breaking, he can hardly bear it.

“Ezra?” he hears you from the bedroom. Your voice is still rough and husky from sleep and it’s more than enough to push him over the edge.

His head falls back, eyes squeezed shut, and he chokes down the growl that’s erupted from his chest. His hips jump and his hand is coated in hot release.

“Ez?” you call out.

Ezra swallows dryly, inhales as deeply as he can manage.

“Just a moment,” he manages to croak out as his forehead comes to rest against the cool wood of the bathroom door.

“Oh,” you say with relief. “You weren’t there. I thought-— I was afraid maybe the spell went wrong.”

“Not to worry, little mage,” he says. “I’m still under your spell.”

—

The two of you spend the day in the basement, doing magic together. Ezra shows off the spells that were something of a specialty for him. Mostly, they’re party tricks. (“This one used to send the mortals frothing,” he says as he changes a glass of water into wine.)

The only blemish on an otherwise perfect day came when you offered helpfully, “You know, if we can clean out the spare room down here, you could have a place of your own.”

It stung though Ezra knew you would expect him to leave the nest eventually. Maybe you’d heard what he’d been doing behind the bathroom door and were hinting he find somewhere else to abuse himself.

It feels good to be doing magic again, even better to share with you. He’s a little rusty, working a muscle that’s been comatose for years. You don’t seem to mind. You’re impressed, just as giddy as he is, though you’re not amused when he turns a bowl of pasta noodles into worms.

“If you ever do that to me, I’ll turn you back,” you swear.

You’re particularly fascinated with a piece of magic Ezra shows you where he ignites a flame in his hand.

“Show me again,” you say.

He strikes his thumb against his fingertips as though they were flint on steel and the fire sparks. You watch with a furrowed brow, rehearsing the motion with your own hand.

“You can do it with a candle. It’s quite the same,” he explains. The flame glows orange, hovering in his palm until he snuffs it in his fist.

You hold your hand forward and mimic his motion to no avail.

“It’s not a snap,” he says in reply to your frustrated groan. “Observe.” He demonstrates again, slower this time.

“That’s what I did,” you complain.

After a few more attempts you shake your head.

“I can’t do it.”

“You turned a cat into a man. This is well within your abilities,” he assures you.

You thrust your hand towards him. “Show me.”

“Very well,” he says.

It’s not like your touch is new to him and still he swoons as he cups your hand in his. Maybe it’s because yours is so much smaller, almost delicate. It’s the intimacy of this moment, the magic, that has his heart hammering. Your powers vibrate beneath your skin, heating you from within.

You don’t have to stand so close but you slot yourself against him, your shoulders against his chest.

“Relax,” he whispers into the shell of your ear. He can’t help himself, resting his other hand on your hip.

You take a deep breath and he marvels at how easily you unwind in his arms. If you turn towards him, your lips will brush.

”Focus,” he says as if his own head isn’t swimming.

You nod and Ezra guides your thumb across your fingers.

The fire doesn’t just spark to life in your hand but it ignites as if it were fed by kerosene, flaring wildly. It burns so hot he can feel it radiating through your fingers. You let out a delighted squeal, your smile brighter than the flame itself.

“Holy shit!” You turn to share your joy with Ezra, so close your noses touch as you move. You giggle.

He can’t help but grin himself. You are truly amazing.

It all shatters in an instant. You hear the jingle of the shop door above and the fire in your fist fizzles to ash. You freeze except for your eyes that grow wide with horror. Footsteps cross overhead, the floorboards creaking. The bookstore is closed just as it is every Halloween week. There are no customers coming in. There’s only one person that could be here.

Ezra hears Margot call out your name and his stomach drops.

”Are you down there?” she says. She’s just at the top of the stairs where you left the door propped open.

”Uh huh,” you answer. You still haven’t moved an inch, just stand there dumbly.

You’d talked briefly about how the two of you would break the news to Aunt Margot but you hadn’t come to a decision. You still had time to figure it out and you were both so giddy that you couldn’t imagine a world where she was anything but delighted to see what he’d become. Suddenly it’s an incredible risk and neither of you are prepared.

“”I just kept thinking about you here all alone. I left as soon as I could,” she says. “Everybody was asking about–“ her eyes finally land on Ezra and she stiffens ”–you.”

“Aunt Margot–” you try.

Percy, who’s just peeked his head out of her breast pocket, lets out a squeal.

“What have you done?” she asks, her voice barely a whisper.

He’s not sure how she knows– Margot is perceptive in ways neither you or Ezra could anticipate– but she doesn’t need to be told.

She stares at the man before her and he’s brought back to the look on Cee’s face years upon years ago when he stood over Damon’s limp body.

It’s a punch in his gut delivered by himself long ago, it all slips away. The party is over, the jig is up. The past two days evaporate like one of his dreams. Those sweet mornings waking up beside you, the swell of your touch, the thought of a future. He’d really believed it could go on like that forever.

You look as terrified as your aunt but you swallow it down and say, “I turned him back.”

“That’s not possible,” Margot says.

“I’m afraid it is,” Ezra says. His words don’t hold any of their usual cool confidence.

“Is this why you stayed home?”

“No—“ you try.

“You lied to me,” Margot says. “And you had no right to do this.”

“We had no intention of doing this before you departed,” Ezra begins.

“The laws have changed,” you snap. Ezra wraps his hand around yours, not sure if he’s protecting you or grounding you before you lose your cool.

“Well, they’re still laws. And shame on you, Ezra, for letting her do that,” Margot snipes.

“I talked him into it,” you say.

“Oh, yes, I’m sure it took a lot of convincing,” she replies with an eye roll. “Have you lost your mind?”

“It’s unjust what they did to him,” you argue.

“He was convicted of killing another witch. I’m sorry, Ezra, but that is no petty crime.”

“That other witch was a child abuser!” you snap.

Ezra clenches his jaw. You’re the only other person he’s told about Cee and now seems like an inopportune moment to start pouring out his guts. Margo’s sharp eyes look to him for confirmation, her frown softening with surprise.

”I make no excuse for my transgressions,” he says.

“You should turn yourself in to the elders before they find out on their own,” Margot says.

”No,” you say.

”She’s right,” Ezra says, his eyes cast to the floor.

“No,” you say once more. ”Ezra served his time. And he should never have been such an inhumane punishment.”

Margot hears none of it, shaking her head with her eyes screwed shut. “The elders will take your powers for this. Or worse. They’ll make you both into cats. And you did this all under my roof. Did you think this through at all?”

Reality sinks in the pit of Ezra’s stomach. He’s put you in danger but Margot too. She’s always been good to him, one of the few people he enjoys and he’s gotten her mixed up in a crime.

”You weren’t even here,” you say, your voice wavering. Clearly the guilt is creeping through your veins as well.

”Go upstairs, dear. I need to speak to Ezra alone,“ she demands.

”No,” you say with indignation.

“It’s alright,” Ezra tells you.

You look between the two of them. Margot stares at him as if you’ve already left the room and you have no choice but to obey.

Margot says nothing, shooting daggers at Ezra for an excruciating amount of time. At last, she puts her hand to her brow in exasperation and does her best to collect her emotions.

”Let me get a look at you,” Margot says when she stands tall again.

Ezra steps forward, presenting himself with a slight bow as he was accustomed to do. He has many years on her but he currently feels like a boy caught by the schoolmarm, about to get his knuckles rapped.

She takes his hand, turns it over in her own, inspecting the magic you’ve done. Margot lets out an indignant scoff.

“How did she do it?” Margot asks, her voice half suspicion, half wonder.

“A potion. A spell. It was by her own hand,” he explains. “She foresaw it in a dream.”

Margot fingertips brush her lips, the whirl of thoughts racing through her mind plain on her face.

“You know what kind of witch has the powers to cast a spell like that?” he asks.

Her answer is a nod and a sigh, her shoulders straightening. Still lost in thought, Ezra fills the silence with his plea.

“Margot, I have served your family for two centuries but I have never cared for another witch as deeply as I do your niece,” he admits. “I’m well aware that what we’ve done is bold and rash. Foolish, even. But I promise you that I will not let any harm come to her so long as I’m living.”

His heart beats so hard, he’s afraid it might leap from his chest.

Margot looks into his eyes and there’s a momentary prickle along his scalp. Her lips quirk and her expression softens and Ezra feels too vulnerable. He’s let her see too much of the truth. If he could, he’d climb out of his own skin. The moment passes as Margot masks her sympathy, raising her chin and crossing her arms in a way that reminds him of you.

“Fine. This isn’t an endorsement,” she says. “But you can tell her I’m not going to rat you out.”

“Thank you,” he says. He knows that he’s been given yet another gift he doesn’t deserve. Hopefully Margot can sense his gratitude as she did his conviction. He heads after you, towards the back door of the shop but is stopped by the sound of his name. Turning, he sees Margot with her keen eye on him.

“Be careful,” she warns.

He’s not sure what she’s referring to but he knows she’s right.

🐈‍⬛

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#ezra prospect #ezra #ezra x f!reader #ezra prospect x f!reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #prospect #prospect fic #witchy

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sytoran · 2 years ago

Text

𝐀 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐄 | 𝐠𝐨𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐬!𝐧𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐭.𝟐

the aftermath of your mindblowingly hot sex with the goddess of lust, natasha romanoff. as it turns out, no one escapes the consequences of their actions.

pairing: goddess!natasha x dom!fem!reader (G!P)

note: once again, howdy, folks! this is the even longer-awaited part 2 to the goddess!nat fic! i am terribly sorry for the wait, hopefully this long chapter will satisfy your needs :)

word count: 3.0k

series m.list | main m.list | join the taglist | AO3

Previously...

You, a regular law-abiding citizen, saved the gods by accident. The Goddess of Lust, Natasha, granted you one wish as a repayment. You could've had just about anything, but turns out all you need is right in front of you.

Spoiler: It ends up in mindblowingly hot sex with a certain Goddess.

Now, two months later...

"Baby…" Nataha sighs, her eyelids fluttering close as you move under her sheets.

Or, more specifically, as your tongue moves in her cunt.

There's just something about giving the Goddess of Lust the best head of a lifetime that does it for you. Maybe it's her stupidly sexy moans, or the way she twisted her delicate hands into your hair, or maybe just how sweet she tasted.

Or, maybe, it's the knowledge that you're the only one who can ever make her feel like this.

"Please, oh, fuck," Natasha whines, as you move your tongue in tight little circles against her sweet spot. Not quick enough to make her cum, slow enough to make her feel.

"Oh," she whimpers, hearing the lewd sounds of you eating out her soaked pussy on a Saturday morning. You shift under the blankets, breathing hard as it gets warm.

Worshiping the Goddess as you rightfully should was perhaps your favourite pastime, driving her wild with your fingers and your tongue and your cock.

Which is exactly what you felt throbbing in your pants when a hushed whimper of 'Daddy' falls from Natasha's sweet mouth. Your head spins at the title, just like the first time she had ever called you that.

It was half by accident, really.

On a private rented beach in Malibu, with miles and miles of space and no one else, there you laid under the shade of a palm tree, thrusting into the Goddess with a youthful vigor.

"Oh, you feel so good," Natasha cries, scratching her long nails down your bare back. She shakes with each of your thrusts, melting into your touch like your forgotten ice cream in the Malibu sun.

"Do I?" You tease dangerously, both of your orgasms dangling close to occurrence. "Mhm- Oh, yeah," Natasha responds with a lewd moan, moving her hand down to play with her clit.

That's all the extra simulation the Goddess needs before she's tumbling over the edge, clutching onto you as pound into her cunt.

"Oh, I- Oh, please, daddy!" Natasha shrieks when you harshly pinch her nipple with your free hand. It does wonders for her pleasure.

But as soon as those words fall from the Goddess' lips, she retracts like she's been scorned. You halt your movements.

"Did you just call me daddy?" You ask with a raised eyebrow, as Natasha looks away flusteredly.

"...No."

"Darling."

"No! I mean, well yes, but I didn't mean to!" She tries to move under your grasp, her cheeks turning an incarnadine pink.

You take her wrists and pin them above her head with one hand, and use the other to still her moving hips. The Goddess pouts at you, but you know better than to give in.

"Has the Goddess of Lust never called anyone 'daddy'?" You ask seriously, trying to make sense of her seemingly unorthodox shame.

"It's complicated." Natasha states, squirmimg under your inspective look. She trails her hands down to your cock again, but you deny her of that pleasure. "We're not done here, sweetheart."

"Fine," Natasha grumbles. "That's the first time I've ever called it out, like, in the heat of the moment. I'm always the one doing the seduction and the flirting, so I call my partner that if I think they'd be into it. It's never been… spontaneous, I guess."

"Oh," you say softly, tracing her rib with a ginger finger. "I think I quite like it."

"You do?"

"Mhm."

"Okay, daddy."

"Shut up, sweetheart."

"Make me."

What pulls you out of that blissful reverie is Natasha's whine. You're not in Malibu anymore, you're under Natasha's sheets.

Even then, you've never felt more fulfilled with this glorious woman by your side.

"Why'd you stop?" Natasha asks, pulling the blanket away so she can see you.

You shake your head, pressing a kiss onto her inner thigh. "Thinking."

"About?"

"You."

"Oh," the Goddess replies, evidently flustered.

"What were you thinking of?" she then says, flirtatiously. She adds on the charm of batted eyelashes, prepared for whatever you might do to her body.

What Natasha wasn't prepared for, however, was the tenderness in which you regarded her with, a serene smile and a warm glow on your face.

"What is it?" Natasha says, laughing awkwardly as you litter kisses all over her stomach. You're glowing, sickly-sweet and dumbstruck.

"I love you," you whisper. "I love you, Natasha Romanoff. I love you not because you are the Goddess of Lust but because you have the most brilliant heart I've ever had the chance to feel. I love you for everything that you are, everything that you're not. I love you for your bed hair, and your goofy jokes, and your brilliant green eyes I could melt into a thousand times. I love you boundlessly, across the worlds that divide us. And you don't have to say it back, but just know-"

You take in a deep breath, not realizing that you've spoken so much with quavering breaths like you'd die if you didn't profess your love. Like you'd die if you didn't bare your heart to Natasha. You gulp for air, stroke her face. "Just know I love you. So much. So, so, so much."

Oh.

There's silence, afterwards, like the world has stumbled on its axis and the stars have collided.

Natasha looks at you with an indescribable feeling, like her heart wants to burst out of their seams. It's only when you gently stroke her face that Natasha realizes there are tears on her face.

Why's she crying? Why do you cradle her in your arms with such a ginger tenderness? What did she ever do to deserve this kind of love?

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have pushed it," you mumble, almost ashamed. You press another kiss on her bare stomach as an apology. "I'm-"

"No, I- Fuck, I love you too." The Goddess voices hoarsely, her shaky tone a far cry from what should be expected of a regal Goddess. "I love you too," she says again, with more confidence, almost as if it would make the words even truer.

That stupid smile is back on your face again, even wider than before. Your cheeks hurt and Natasha's heart melts.

"You love me?" you ask earnestly, and there's such an innocence and genuineness to your question that Natasha almost cries again.

The impact of 'I love you' sinks in. Natasha feels.

She's never felt like this before. She's never loved like this before.

Finally, in the sacred silence, Natasha whispers. Scared to ruin the moment. Scared to tarnish what could be.

"To every universe and back," the Goddess answers, and your world starts orbiting again.

—

Ever since that fateful day of your love confession, the two of you were inseparable. You would look at Natasha with such wonder in your eyes, wonder what you ever did to deserve this, but the Goddess would look at you the same way, and you knew everything would be fine.

She would take you to any universe you liked, across any dimension. From earth-bound lands to intergalactic islands to space. It was as vast as her love for you.

But, you were riding that high with no heed for the consequences of your actions.

You were foolish enough to stay with Natasha, dumb enough to drown out the warning signs, blindsided by the prospect of loving a Goddess.

You should've known, from the start, that you and Natasha were a race against time.

You should've known that it would end up in flames for you.

You should've known better.

—

Since the very day she was born the Goddess of Lust, Natasha had her life laid in front of her.

To exploit that thrall she was given, to seduce men and the occasional woman, to live above and beyond because she was a Goddess.

That had been her life for over decades, sitting comfortably at the top of the chain on a gold throne; Toying with hearts like it was a daytime hobby, then shattering them like glass.

She slept around for the hell of it, just because she could. Just because she was the Goddess of Lust.

Then came along a stupidly charming attorney with a coffee stain on her suit and the most unusual request.

Just like that, her world stopped revolving around what she was supposed to do, and it started orbiting around you.

And, you, were definitely not what Natasha was supposed to do.

Despite how incredible you were in bed. Despite the plethora of orgasms you had brought her to. Despite how she felt her walls to her heart tumbling down around you.

When the two of you shared that passionate confession of love in bed on that fateful Saturday morning, the Goddess knew she was done for.

Which is exactly why she's currently under the scrutiny of Supreme Headquarters: Intervention of Extraterrestrial Liabilities Directorate, aka SHIELD, aka she's completely and utterly fucked.

SHIELD was essentially the Gods and Goddeses' version of a monarchy, that was infamous for its cruel ruling and cutthroat decisions.

"You're a smart girl, Natasha, and never would I have expected something so childishly foolish to fall from your lips."

The Goddess stood in defiance. Despite all her power and her status, she seemed so small in the wide hall, paling in comparison to the mighty Gods that surrounded her.

That previous statement had been made by none other than Wanda, the Goddess of Magic. The woman was a stature of power and composure in her throne, hand poised under her chin like it was a medieval painting.

"I'm not a girl," Natasha snapped at the Goddess, fire behind her eyes. "And I'm very capable of making my own decisions, despite how foolish they may seem in your condescending point of view."

The Goddess of Magic was irritatingly unfazed by Natasha's outburst, flicking that poised hand and in a dismissive wave. God, Natasha wanted to crush that stupid hand.

"Steve, talk some sense into her. I can't bear to hear any more of her senseless arguments." Wanda said offhandedly, looking over to the God of Justice for support.

Natasha wants to retort that she isn't just spewing senseless arguments, but a warning look from the God of Justice shut her up. Of everyone in SHIELD, he was the most likely to give her a fair hearing. Hence his name.

"Natasha, we're not saying that you're incapable of making your own decisions." The blonde man reassures, pressing his hands together in contemplation. Natasha breathes harder than she should be doing.

"We're saying that what you're doing isn't the best," Steve continues, and Natasha is grateful that the eyes are not on her anymore. The God of Justice had a presence that simply demanded respect, an impeccable aura that no one would dare deflect.

"Sleeping with someone not godly is one thing, but entering a romantic relationship with a mortal, a human being, is simply…"

"Unacceptable."

Natasha intakes a short gush of air harshly at the interruption. It's Thor, God of Thunder. For a God who had lived centuries, he was painfully traditional. Narrow-minded, even.

Thor's loud, booming voice carried throughout the hall, from his electric-blue throne at the far corner. Mjolnir, his trusty hammer, was held in his big hands with a firm grasp. Natasha forced herself not to feel threatened.

Thor continued, firm and hard and oh so unforgiving. "Do you want to end up like my brother, Goddess Natasha?"

At that, the entire hall was silenced. The only thing Natasha could hear was her own sporadic breathing.

Everyone, undoubtedly, knew the story of Thor's brother.

Loki, the God of Mischief. The fallen angel, some said. The devil's incarnate, others whispered.

He had used his power for wrong, abused his status to commit the darkest things imaginable. It wasn't before he was banished from the land of Gods, never to be seen again.

Some say he's still clawing his way out of hell. Some say he's destined for a lifetime of hurt.

"Don't you fucking dare compare me to him, Thor," Natasha growls, and the larger blonde man even seems taken aback by the ferocity behind Natasha's words.

"I- I think what Thor is trying to say," Bruce frantically cuts in, in an attempt to mediate the situation.

The God of Science was a bespectacled man with quirky mannerisms, ever the peacemaker. Logic, to him, was most important of all.

"Is that you, Nat, are a Goddess," Bruce continues. "An all-powerful being that transcends the laws of space and time. You have been blessed with such power, such strength, unfathomable to lesser beings. And Y/N L/N, this earth-bound creature who lives and breathes on the very ground we carved, couldn't possibly be who you want to run off with. I mean, we- you, you're so much more than that."

"You're going to love her, Nat? Give her your heart? You, an immortal being? She's going to die some day, inevitably, and then what will be left of you? A broken, desolate mess, grieving for the rest of eternity?"

Natasha swallows harshly. She wanted to despise Bruce, hate his reasonings and refute his logic – but she couldn't, could she? He was right. Bruce was right.

But there was a part in her heart that screamed, yelled, kicked - she couldn't give you up, now. Not when she'd finally found what she's been searching for. Not when she can feel again.

Not when she's found the love of her goddamned life.

"I'm on Nat's side," Tony says, mouth full of a pink-frosted donut, slicing through the tensed silence. He spews crumbs as he talks, but Natasha doesn't think she's ever been more grateful for the man.

Tony was the God of Heroes. Brilliant but brash, proud yet arrogant, charismatic and eccentric. He was a God no one could explain in few words, and for that Natasha was immensely grateful he understood.

"True love cannot be broken," Tony says, folding his arms. "It transcends all else, goes beyond our social status and our physical capabilities and who we are as individuals. If Nat has truly found it, then who are we to judge? It shouldn't be criticized, it should be celebrated!"

Natasha locks eyes with Tony, in silent thanks. The two of them may butt heads at times due to their self-righteous natures, but in the end they were always there for each other.

However, the rest of the Gods didn't seem to quite agree. There was quiet murmuring amongst themselves until Steve began speaking again.

"Let's settle this with a vote. If majority wins, Natasha will be able to continue her pursuit of a romantic relationship with the human and mortal Y/N L/N. If not, Natasha will be forced to cut off all ties with said mortal and they are to never see each other again."

The Goddess of Lust felt her heart clench. Of course Steve would choose the fairest way to determine Natasha’s fate. Of course this would result in a losing battle for her, based on the prior reactions.

“All those in favour of the disallowance of Natasha Romanoff’s and Y/N L/N’s romantic, physical or any other relations, please raise your hand.”

Thoughts of you swam in Natasha’s mind, of you smiling while kissing her hand, stroking her hair while she fell asleep, trailing kisses up her spine on sinful nights.

Thor’s hand went up first.

“I love you boundlessly, across the worlds that divide us.” That was what you had said that Saturday morning, with a serene smile, so gentle it caressed Natasha’s heart. She remembers the warm glow of the sun, the temptations of paradise, the falsehood of the promised land.

Wanda follows suit.

How could Natasha have let it all succumb to this? Why had she let herself grow so soft and malleable around you? The walls around her heart she had spent so long constructing was so easily taken down by you. You, who wormed your way in and made a nest in the center of her universe.

The next hand that goes up is Bruce’s, albeit with an uneasy look from the man, like he didn’t want to be there anymore.

Maybe she shouldn’t have dived headfirst into love with you, professing her feelings so vulnerably. She was the Goddess of Lust, not Romance or any of that bullshit. A long-lasting relationship had been a childish fantasy, much less for someone who was meant to constantly seduce.

Like a final seal of her demise, Steve’s hand goes up, and only then does Natasha realize the tears that have fallen from the corners of her eyes.

There is a deafening silence that follows the grounding decision, and even Tony doesn’t look so aloof anymore. He’s the only one at the table who didn’t raise his hand.

Natasha swallows harshly, in an attempt to calm the building pressure within her.

She swallows again, willing the tears in her eyes to go away - no way in hell would she openly cry in front of the Gods who put her in this situation.

This time, she wishes the ground would swallow her up instead, to whisk her away from this nightmare of a reality and wake up beside you once more.

“You have until sunset to settle things,” Steve says, a painful lack of emotion in his eyes. “If you don’t coincide by the rules, you know what consequences you will have to face.”

For the first time in an eternity, ever since unknown creatures roamed the multiverse and there was no difference between dark and light, the Goddess felt helpless.

Even then, there was only one thing on her mind.

How the fuck was she going to tell you that ‘To every universe and back’ had been a bloody lie?

taglist: @natashamaximoff69 @ohsugar-honey-iced-tea @fayhar @bibliophilicbi @screechcat @rowanyaboats @nahnahnahwhat @the-night-owl-blr @nemowevoli @wannabe-fic-reader @natsxwife @wandsmxmff @enanna-h @jemilyswhor3 @manyfandomsfanvergent @jlsammy23 @spongebobs-tie1 @kiyozoe6778 @lovebelt05 @girllcver @godsfavouritelesbiann @natashaswife4125 @ezay @forthelesbians @wlwfanfictionss @forthelesbians @cowxpoke @supaheroine @saqua14 @olsensnpm @33_mrvl @gay4ols3n @knellyc30 @eatkobi @stitch26gp @cqllarbqne @lovelyy-moonlight @diannaswhore @wandaromanoff69 @shuriri4life @inluvwithfictionalwomen @Cooldogs02 @jedi-athen-orion @alyciaddict @blackqueensforeva @lovelyy-moonlight @gingerninja1993 @yourfavdummy @iliketigolbitties @scarlttolsn @blackbirdv98 @mxxnligxt @riomiyawakisstuff @alex4424 @0DeadandCold0 @mr.romanoff @mandy-asimp @idontwannabehereatm @daenerys713 @xxsekhmet @marvel_simp @maowlxslay @lizbugwanda @peggycarter3 @flositaa @dooblekhay @aliherrerasz @theo-021 @hopelesslyfalleninlove @secretbackrooms @natasha10273 @justyourwritter69 @theo-221b @wandaromanoff69 @eatkobi @lovelyy-moonlight @morganismspam23 @unexpected-character @rdfgfv

ok i’m literally so tired while posting this ‘cos i just got out of a seven-hour flight like yesterday, but i reallyyy wanted to post this because i haven’t posted anything in so long. anyways I HOPE YOU LIKE THE LORE and just a recap for everyone before part 3:

anyways it’s all set up for more angst and hardcore smut (yes i promise that is in part 3)

natasha - goddess of lust

carol - goddess of galaxies

wanda - goddess of magic

steve - god of justice

thor - god of thunder

bruce - god of science

tony - god of heroes

y/n - basic bitch

#natasha romanoff x reader smut #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff smut #bottom natasha romanoff #sub natasha romanoff #top reader #dom reader #gxg smut #wlw smut #x reader #natasha romanoff #marvel smut #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff x reader angst #natasha romanoff x reader fluff #goddess natasha

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nectardaddy · 5 months ago

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wild youth

introduction

masterlist

note : ignore timestamps, all dividers are made by me so don't clock me for credit

yn !

self insert atp I don't even care lmao

fifth grade teacher, teaching for four years now

refuses to turn on the big lights, has christmas lights galore

has an ungodly amount of plants in her room that she often forgets about (the students keep them alive at this point)

does not fit the teacher mold, wears a lot of black and religiously wears her docs to school

her classroom is usually the loudest on the hall, but they're actually learning trust

really relaxed teacher - "god please I don't care what you do just get your work done and keep your hands to yourself"

lesson plans for science and math (WOMEN IN STEM LET'S GO)

suga !

fifth grade teacher with yn, they started the same year and are the youngest teachers there

most definitly fits the teacher mold with his little collared shirts and sweaters, dresses it down with sneakers though

a little stricter than yn, tough love king, regular user of "now who's fault is that?" and "why would you do that?"

folds sometimes and let's his students get away with things because he will wholeheartedly join them

lesson plans for history and language

hates the big lights too! it takes him like 5 minutes to turn on all the lamps and fairy lights he has

the sass of this man oh my god, has a comeback for EVERYTHING

taglist (open , send an ASK)

@19calicos @yoshit-he-dinosaur @sandwhitches @bokutoko @wyrcan

@akaakeis @darling-eos @iiwaijime @mitskicain @cherrypieyourface

@yogurtkags @cupidsblonde @honeekyuu

#hq x reader #haikyuu #hq #haikyuu smau #sugawara koushi x reader #sugawara fic #sugawara x reader #hq sugawara #haikyuu sugawara #sugawara koushi #sugawara x reader smau #hq suga #haikyuu x reader #koushi sugawara x reader #suga x reader #hq smau #series: wild youth

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s0rr3l · 2 months ago

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MODERN AU - PART 1

lore under the cut!!!

Lǐyú 🐟

25 years old

Grew up poor, but a hard worker - was in the student council throughout highschool and captain of the debate team; bit of an overachiever

Earned a scholarship to university and became… an accountant

Always had dreams to be a marine biologist or illustrator, but life got in the way and one has to pay the bills

Had no passion for their chosen career, becoming a workaholic and reclusive, plus being piled with extra work due to to being the lowest in the work hierarchy

Started a webcomic series to relieve stress from the job and posted on a whim, unexpectedly got really popular!!!

One time got caught in the rain without an umbrella and ran into an open cafe

Met the the owner @maiden-of-the-waters Beike and worker @marcu-bug Yu, who took one look at their sad, soggy form and immediately (unofficially) adopted them into their cafe

Lǐyú cried (which they’re still embarassed about) from the simple kindness of strangers, and started frequenting the cafe more

With support from the others, quit their accounting job and started posting comics full time, even picking up shifts for the cafe

Noticed by game company, scouted and hired for character design/concept, illustration and storyboarding

Co-workers with @marcu-bug’s monkey (Tao), who works in a different department

Unexpectedly ran into @dunanana Birdie in the cafe, and fainted from shock; has always been a big fan of her music

Did get over their embarassing hero worship after getting to know Birdie, and the gang always teases them about their reaction to their first meeting

Met @szynkaaa Oz while working a shift in the cafe, casually doodled a lil star on her to-go cup based on the accessories on her bag

Becomes roommates with Birdie and Yu after their apartment got flooded

More social and passionate about life; it really was going great! Surrounded by awesome friends and loving their new career; seriously, what could more could they ask for?

That was when fate decided to throw a Monkey their way

Destined One/Yēzi 🥥

24 years old

Star of the martial arts world since he was a child, has won numerous competitions in various fields

Impressive enough to be scouted for minor movie roles but didn’t enjoy the spotlight. Transitioned to stuntwork

Elder monkey is his grandfather and runs a dojo - he joins as a teacher and regularly holds classes for all levels

(the kids all love him, he is their favourite teacher!! Don’t tell him he said this, but he likes teaching the kids too)

Going to inherit the dojo when his grandfather retires, but that seems to be a while yet…

In his youth he was a massive menace, challenging all the dojos/martial arts associations with his own lil’ gang

He’s totally mellowed out now that he’s older, but his friends keep teasing him about his ‘younger days’

ANYWAYS, because of his wild challenges in his youth, he became a local legend and set off a trend for the up-and-coming students of other dojos to start challenging HIM

His friends call him Fruit Punch. And somehow it SPREADS and others start calling him the legendary Fruit Punch

Gods he was so mortified he wore a mask to try and hide, but it just fueled the rumours even more

So he’s always being interrupted and challenged by all these flashy characters and gained a reputation for being a delinquent/vigilante

(since they’re disturbing public areas, Yēzi always drags them off to the police station after the fight)

Grumpy guy

Of course he is, always getting interrupted by a bunch of guys when he just wants a smoothie or shopping for groceries

He enters a cafe, ready to order and hears this:

"Ah! Fruit Punch"

*sighs*

its gonna be a long day

Lǐyú and Yēzi 🐟🥥

He loves doodling. Unironically thinks Lǐyú (and Tao) has the coolest job in the world

Yēzi kept the cups that Lǐyú doodled on. Sentimental nerd

Lǐyú did not understand the culture around fighting for the longest time and had some... misunderstandings about it. Had a long sit down with Yēzi to talk about it :)

UGH they are both so oblivious

Lǐyú: Yēzi is so cool but a bit scary => actually he's kind of a dork => um wow that was hot- => oh!! What a cute laugh! => hey- shhh shh. Yēzi, I'm not going anywhere.

And it hits them like 'oh. OH'.

Yēzi is So Stupid:

Ugh they called me fruit punch => huh. They're kinda cool I guess => pretty fun to tease => pretty eyes~ => oh no. Why are you crying? I'll do anything, so please, don't turn away from me-

'oh. OH.'

#s0rr3l's art #black myth wukong #destined one x oc #black myth wukong oc #liyu #liyu x yezi #but sorrel what bt bmw verse- shhhh #i must have the brainrot…#Monkey See Monkey Do

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absolutebl · 4 months ago

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This Week in BL - So Many GREAT Kisses!

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

(Please notice I am now using 6 dots in all ellipses because according to Taiwanese BL that's how we queers roll. Who am I to argue?)

Sept 2024 Week 3

Ongoing Series - Thai

Jack & Joker (Thai Mon IQIYI) ep 2 of 12 - A most excellent glow up. And it’s still a great show. And I cannot wait to see the many different faces of War. Bring on the Leverage of One action-packed mess. I'm waiting.

Monster Next Door (Thai Thurs Gaga ) ep 9 of 12 - I’m gonna say this because it drives me crazy. Why are boys in BL, when out and about the countryside, always dressed inappropriately for Thailand? If it’s hot, takeoff your damn jacket. I don’t mean to be crass or crazy or whatever. But don’t wear a jacket when it’s 90° with 90% humidity. In Thailand, jackets are for malls. Meanwhile, I’m an extrovert and that still seemed like an exhausting trip. Although, I suppose they didn’t show all the drive time in the van, when everyone is asleep.

Meanwhile, why are the sides so frustrating in this show? Authentic friends-to-lovers is always a slog. Finally a kiss! And a decent one.

New character? Aw! Hi Yu!!!! Gosh Putter is so cute.

Where were we? Oh yes, Beer is now heartbroken. Always the great fear in F2L that the friendship will be destroyed as a result. And it’s a decent fear.

On a completely different note, I cannot help but wonder when somebody’s chue len is Beer, if that is because beer was involved in their conception. Like, it’s the name you give your "oops baby" from that drunken night at the club. Don’t mind me. I’m just over here in the corner being crass.

Battle of the Writers (Sun YT) ep 8 of 12 - That was one of the cutest wake up sequences ever depicted. Utterly adorable. And now he’s blind again? Oh my God this is such a soap opera, I can’t even. Meanwhile, wicked ice prince finally made his move. Gah! Why aren’t we getting more of this couple? I always love the sides best with this production house.

I Saw You in My Dream (Weds Gaga) ep 10 of 12 - I love a hard fraught game of badminton. Even though we actually didn’t see play. YoIng claiming was so cute!!! And their shower kiss was v hot. Yay little show! Also cute use of the punishment trope!

Kidnap (Fri YT) ep 3 of 12 - The weight upon the shoulders of our idiot good guy kidnapper continues to pile up. So does the affection. The dude playing Q has sanpaku eyes. Cool. He’s not a particularly good actor though. Rough because everyone around him is giving their very best.

The problem is. I'm noticing. I shouldn't be noticing all the talent trying so hard. That usually means there is something wrong with the story, or there was something wrong on the set.

I don't know what to say at this juncture except I have the sinking suspicion this might not actually be a good show. (Covers head and cowers. Don't hate me.) I'd loved to be proved wrong, but my faith is GMMTV is only about 50% these days. And it probably should be lower.

Addicted Heroin (Thai Tues WeTV) ep 6 of 10 - I was so confused by how we suddenly got on a trip together, that I went back and re-watched the previous installment. And it still isn’t explained. So I have no idea why our leads are on a trip but apparently that’s the next trope to hit. I also have no idea how they're suddenly boyfriends. I’m just generally confused by this episode. It’s like an alt reality. We skipped over all of the stuff where they actually got into a relationship. In general I wasn’t wild about this episode.

The Trainee (Sun YT) ep 12fin - The most realistic thing about this show is that everybody is everybody else’s ex on any given set. I feel that in my bones. Or do I mean boner?

Frankly, both actors look better after a glow up and I guess pretending to be more their actual ages suits them? Considering what was actually done to invoke youth (a lot of the shine and gloss) aging them was an anti-glow up. A great mattification? Well...... this was a somewhat lackluster finale. (Thank you, thank you, the pun was unplanned. It's a gift.)

I don’t know. I guess I wanted to see Jane suffer? Work HARD to get the kid he abandoned back? I would’ve liked to have seen Ryan a little bit more competent and capable and his job. Maybe dating someone else. But I also do not want any more episodes. This was more than enough. So instead no separation, just boyfriends and a montage of their lives together, getting new and better jobs, moving in together, being supportive and sweet, etc... LOOK: It’s never a good sign when I immediately want to rewrite the show that I just saw.

In conclusion:

A story about a group of interns at a commercial video production company. While I genuinely love OffGun, I’m not convinced this was a good vehicle for them. Is it terrible for me to say, I miss their PickRome days? I don’t think they’ve ever had rolls that suited them better. Still, theirs was the best storyline in this ensemble piece masquerading as a BL, although they still fumbled the ending. Thus, I enjoyed about a 1/3 of it as much as possible, and 2/3 of it less than conceivable. 7/10 and I seriously considered dropping it to a 6/10 so don't push me.

Love Sick 2024 (Thai Sun iQIYI) ep 1 of 15 - Not gonna lie I was very skeptical. But I like it fine. Better than I expected because it’s been changed just enough. But it does need to stay changed. I don’t know what I’m trying to articulate here but…... I guess we’ll see.

Live in Love (Sun Gaga) ep 3 of 5 - It’s cute in a weird disjointed way. I’m enjoying it enough, I guess. I do like how forthright and direct Kla is.

Bad Guy My Boss (Thai Sun Gaga) ep 1 of 10 - Ah. Bully romance. My old frenemy. Of course making this office based means +10 for workplace harassment. Well well well. This will be red flag party town I see. How VERY old school yaoi. It’s all very Cdrama CEO = dudes in suits walking on parquet (minus all the gay sex of course.) The jumping around between times and unfinished scenes is very strange. Is this Starhunter chaos only applied to a timeline?

Imma say this so they hear it at the back. YOU HAVE TO CHANGE THE HAIR. If you do time jumps: change. the. hair. It's the easiest and best clue if you aren't going to apply a filter or other cinematography tricks. JUST CHANGE THE DAMN HAIR STYLE.

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

The On1y One (Taiwan Thurs Gaga) eps 9-10 of 12 - And now we all start using six dots in our……? A new coded way to indicate that one is into BL? I did think we were in a slight mire with ep 9, too much teacher filler. Not enough time spent with our boys. Meanwhile, sports day. Pouty Baby utilizing the power of Ge, in front of all of the classmates who do not realize how hard he is flirting and activating babygirl = one of the greatest things ever to happen on my screen. Essentially this was a version of the claiming trope, only nobody knew it but the two of them. Fucking genius. Yes, I watched it multiple times. Then babygirl is injured, the carrying and the flirting!!!! Gah!

I don’t mean to trivialize the show, but this is me and I can trivialize everything even something as brilliant as this. But that conversation about history at the beginning of ep 10...... Was that about topping and bottoming? Because it sure seemed that way.

And then...... Possibly the best only one bed trope twist ever?

This show is so fucking amazing.

And I am so worried about the end.

Sugar Dog Life (Japan Sun grey) ep 7 of 10 - I love the kinkyness of our baby boy’s fantasy. Where he is the gift and his boyfriend is in uniform. Very nice. Thank you Japan. Never one to let kinky dogs lie. Also, the premise continues: one half thinks that they are already boyfriends and acts like it, and the other half is still trying to become a boyfriend. It’s absurd in that way that only Japanese miscommunication extraordinaire can be absurd. Also could Kyosuke be any more under his boy’s thumb?

Love is Like a Poison AKA Doku Koi: Doku mo Sugireba Koi to Naru (Japan Tues Netflix?) 1-2 of 10 eps - Shiba is a top lawyer, angular aggressive bespectacled workaholic cat-type (Kitten? Babygirl? Tsundere? Some unholy combination of all 3?) I am reminded I should be more considerate of my potted plants. OMG the teasing and the little tongue sticking out. Haruto is such a flirt. I love this dynamic. What fun! Manic pixie dream boy but MAKE HIM EVIL! Or very high? Or a grifter? I have absolutely no idea what’s going on. But I’m enjoying it. It’s very...... very

First Note Of Love (Taiwan Mon Gaga) ep 7 of 12 - Oh! Good kiss. Smart to have the younger character initiate. I also like that he put a stop to it and then went and had a long conversation with a friend about it. Cautious boy. Also shows how in control of the situation Sea is becoming. It works for this BL since he has the stronger personality. I don't care what the characters say, this is about Sea becoming a rock for Neil.

But the secondary couple is actually winning this show. I want so much more of them.

Seoul Blues (Korea Fri? YouTube) ep 8fin - I’m not sure that blackmailing and entrapment, especially of your ex, necessarily justifies cheating. Plus I never like it when it’s gays against gays. But what did I expect from this show? This whole series was basically Korea’s version of messy gay. If you liked Only Friends you’ll probably enjoy this bullshit. And they were quite pretty. I, however, am monumentally displeased. 4/10 FATALLY FLAWED but still, basically, BL, however…... do we want to support this kind of behavior?

KOREA PLEASE GIVE US A NEW PROPER BL!! WHERE ARE YOU? WE ARE SAD AND LOST WITHOUT YOU.

It's like now they discovered boys can kiss they can't be happy.

It's airing but...

The Hidden Moon (Sat WeTV) ep 1 of 10 - This is a supernatural romance (my ghost boyfriend trope) by Violet Rain (I Feel You Linger). A man is hired to write an article about an old mansion in Chiang Mai being converted into a café. He sees the ghosts of people who died at the mansion, falls in love with one of them. Was substantially recast. I loved IFYLITA except the ending so I think I'll let this one run it's course you can tell me if it's work tracking down... if they managed to land it. I have my doubts.

Happy of the End (Japan Tues Gaga) - A boy is disowned for being gay, dumped by his boyfriend, and ends up in a dysfunctional co-dependant relationship with his would-be kidnapper. We were due for another messy JBL and it's exactly as expected. I do not like it at all. And ya know what? There is plenty airing. DNF

In case you missed it

I FINISHED Meet You at the Blossom (China). I ate crow, binged the fucker, and live blogged the experience. I enjoyed it a lot and got quite witty (I think) there are also puns (warning). But if you don't wanna slog though it, here are my final thoughts:

This was undeniably a wuxia and most definitely a BL. Evil stunning princely Cheekbones meets and falls in love with the bisexual disaster Dimples of his dreams. There’s a lot of floaty fighting, tangled plot, and overworked emotions. From start to finish it is exactly as it claims to be, including more than the expected amount of sexual claiming (dubious conscent to the point of rape). I’m not wild about the wuxia genre, but I will tell you what I do like: Very pretty men in flowing robes + eye makeup + hair ribbons wafting about stabbing and kissing each other plus ridiculous soap opera machinations. I also like cheekbones and dimples. AND I love a stupid gay sleeve, okay? There was also truly epic levels of stink-eye, and that too is to be lauded. This show left me grinning like crazy. Was it great? Not really, but it was a great experience and I enjoyed it immensely. 8/10

4 Minutes (Gaga) Ended - Spies reported in to say the ending was not-exactly-unhappy and mostly lackluster. I'm torn over whether to watch. My natural disinclination to binge, meets my dissatisfaction with wishy-washy, is going up against my love of high heat and pretty men. Oh the age old struggle between art and lust.

Mitsuya-sensei no keimakutekina ezuke finished and it’s reported to be solid. Age gap treated with respect. I'm curious, so I'll check it out if I can get hold of non-G-drive subs.

Next Week Looks Like This:

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

Still Coming Sept 2024:

9/28 Teenager Judge (Vietnam Sat YouTube) ?? eps - oh I don't know just Ba Vinh doing his thing with pretty boys again.

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

I love love love this execution of the punishment trope. What's Ai going to do to you, Yu? Ride you to death?

I Saw You in My Dream indeed.

Sigh. This show. (Addicted Heroin)

All praise one of BL's best-in-show glow-ups. Nicely done, Jack.

James, on the other hand. Never needs a glow-up. Still the prettiest. Has been since Oxygen. (Battle of the Writers)

He's playing the role of Saint in this show, thank you very much. Speaking of which, wouldn’t that be just the most gorgeous pairing in the entire universe? Saint and James? I’ll be in my bunk.

Taiwan giving us a boop! Reminds me of Be Loved In House I Do, right up there with TharnType as chronic boopers.

Why is he SO GOOD in this show?

All Frist Note.

(Last week)

Streaming services are listed by how I (usually) watch, which is with a USA based IP, and often offset by a day because time zones are a pain.

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @sunflower-positiiivity @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious @saezurumurmurs

Sigh, Tumblr in its infinite wisdom doesn't like too many at-ings.

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savagegood · 1 year ago

Video

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@shinjiroatae1126: To all my fans, today was a very special day for me. For years, I struggled to accept a part of myself...But now, after all I have been through, I finally have the courage to open up to you about something. I am a gay man. It has taken me a long time to be able to say I am gay. I could not even say it to myself. However, I’ve come to realize it is better, both for me, and for the people I care about, including my fans, to live life authentically than to live a life never accepting who I truly am. I hope people who are struggling with the same feeling will find courage and know they are not alone.

ps, he’s released a new song, “into the light”, which you can watch here. part of the proceeds from the single will go to lgbtq+ organisations

@shinjiroatae1126: July 26th, 2023 was a big day for me. I finally gathered the courage to come out to the public as a gay man. I am grateful to have received media coverage from multiple platforms both within Japan and overseas.

To be honest, I was extremely anxious before all of this happened. However, I've been pleasantly surprised to discover the overwhelming amount of positive feedback pouring in from both my fans and people who have come across the news about me. It's heartwarming to see that my story is being acknowledged from all around the world, and this brings me immense joy. Although they may be baby steps, I sense that this world is gradually moving into the light. Yesterday, I made an announcement about resuming my career as an artist. I also released a new song titled “Into The Light”. The music video for the song is also on YouTube now. This song is packed with the emotions and thoughts leading up to this point, including my decision to come out. Living with anxieties and struggles is not limited to just LGBTQ+ individuals. I hope this song can be a source of encouragement for anyone carrying such emotions. I've aimed for it to become a song that can uplift those with similar feelings. A portion of the proceeds will be donated to Pride House Tokyo, Japan’s first permanent LGBTQ+ center, and ReBit, an organization providing resources and support for LGBTQ+ youth. I hope this song will touch many hearts.🙏🌈

At first, there was total silence. Then, there were shrieks, wild applause, weeping and shouts of “I love you!”

Fans of Shinjiro Atae, a J-pop idol who has been on a nearly two-year performance hiatus, had come to hear him talk about “the challenge of my life.” Standing onstage in a dark auditorium in front of 2,000 fans in central Tokyo on Wednesday night, he revealed something he has kept hidden for most of his life: He is gay.

“I respect you and believe you deserve to hear this directly from me,” he said, reading from a letter he had prepared. “For years, I struggled to accept a part of myself. But now, after all I have been through, I finally have the courage to open up to you about something. I am a gay man.”

Such an announcement is extremely unusual in conservative Japan, the only G7 country that has not legalized same-sex unions. Earlier this summer, the Japanese Parliament passed an L.G.B.T.Q rights bill but it had been watered down by the political right, stating that there “should be no unfair discrimination” against gay and transgender people.

In making a public declaration, the 34-year-old Mr. Atae, who spent two decades performing with AAA, a hit Japanese pop group, before embarking on a solo career, said he wanted his fans to know his true self. He also hopes to comfort those who might be grappling with anxieties about their sexuality.

“I don’t want people to struggle like me,” he said.

AAA debuted in 2005, with Mr. Atae, the youngest member, forgoing high school. He performed mostly as a dancer, and began appearing in TV series and movies.

His sexuality perplexed him. “It was a time when on TV, comedians would say two men kissing was gross,” he said. If anyone asked if he had a girlfriend, he just said he was too busy working.

Activists said they could not recall an instance when a Japanese pop star of his stature had publicly declared they were gay, because of anxieties about losing fans or sponsors.

“I think he has decided to come out in order to change Japan,” said Gon Matsunaka, a director and adviser to Pride House Tokyo, a support center for the gay and transgender community.

The decision to open up about his sexuality, he said, evolved over seven years of living in Los Angeles, where he saw how freely gay couples could show affection in public and built an extensive support network.

“Everyone was so open,” he said. “People would talk about their vulnerabilities. In Japan, people think it’s best not to talk about those things.”

Mr. Atae’s decision, he said, was not political. All he wanted, he said, was to “normalize” being gay. Coming out, he knew, would likely draw criticism. “Whatever you do, there will be haters,” he said. “I can only focus on the people I might be helping.”

#this made my week :')#please give his new song a listen and leave him a lovely comment on instagram #shinjiro atae #aaa #japan #jpop #queer #lgbt #lgbtq #gay #long post

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vampsywrites · 1 year ago

Text

IV — i remember her hands, and the way the mountains looked.

Synopsis: In which the Sullys approach the mountain clan for sanctuary. The Olo'eykte agrees but proposes one condition: Toruk Makto's eldest son must be promised to her daughter. Surprisingly, instead of the solemn response one would expect, Neteyam agrees almost instantaneously.

Tags: Female! Mountain Na'vi! Reader, Arranged Marriage, Strangers to Lovers, Neteyam is whipped, Making out, Mentions of blood, Arguments, Physical Fights, Protective Neteyam, Slight Jealous Neteyam

Word Count: 5k | AO3 LINK

< PREV | SERIES MASTERLIST | NEXT >

"Control your breath, like a soothing river finding its rhythm."

Today's lesson was a departure from the usual climbing sessions you've had the last months. Neteyam had proven himself more than capable of scaling the heights with ease, showcasing his prowess as a skilled and agile climber. It was time to advance his training further and introduce him to a new and essential skill: the art of breath control.

As Omatikaya, he lacked the enhanced lung capacity that your own physiology provided. Over generations, your people had adapted to the challenging conditions of Pandora's higher elevations, making your lungs incredibly efficient at utilizing the limited oxygen resources available. This biological disadvantage of his made it all the more crucial for Neteyam to learn proper techniques.

Sitting cross-legged opposite each other, knees touching, your hands gently pressed against his diaphragm and chest as you began the lesson.

"Close your eyes and take a deep breath through your nose," you instructed softly. "Fill your lungs to their fullest capacity, and feel the air spreading to every corner, energizing your body."

Neteyam followed your guidance, his eyes fluttering shut as he inhaled deeply through his nose. His chest rose, and you could feel his abdomen expanding under your touch as he took in the breath. His inhale was steady but not as deep as you wanted it to be.

"Remember to ease your body," you pointed out gently. "Try again. I want you to hold that breath for a moment, just a beat longer than you're used to. Then release the air slowly through your mouth. Let it flow out like a gentle stream, not a gusty wind."

Neteyam complied. He closed his eyes once more and took a deep breath through his nose, following your guidance carefully. His chest expanded further this time, and you could feel the tension in his body as he held his breath for a moment before exhaling slowly through his mouth.

"You are doing well," you beam.

Despite appearing as though you were focused on teaching Neteyam, your gaze occasionally shifted to the others around you. In the distance, Lo'ak, Tuk, and Kiri were having their own lessons, led by a skilled warrior-hunter from your clan. It seemed as though they were learning well, albeit still displaying moments of clumsiness.

These past few months, normalcy resettled itself in the Sully family rather quickly, like a piece of a puzzle that’s been jostled loose slotting seamlessly back into place.

Kiri, in particular, seemed to be in her element — lost in a world of her own. The girl had long wandered away from her group, traversing the slope of the rock with a skill that far surpassed her experience. She was completely absorbed in the breathtaking views the mountain provided and the wild flora that adorned its sides.

Tuk, on the other hand, was having a blast with a group of younger kids. They were energetically bouncing off the lower parts of the rock wall with their ropes, playing and laughing together. Their youthful enthusiasm was contagious, and it brought a nostalgic smile to your face, reminding you of your own childhood.

Lo'ak had also adapted smoothly, effortlessly climbing higher peaks with a few Na'vi your age. He appeared at ease, his initial apprehension towards the heights now gone as he engaged in friendly banter and conversations with your people.

“I think you’re just using this as an excuse to feel me up, syulang.”

Neteyam's voice draws your attention away, his calloused hands cupping over yours and pressing them flat against the planes of his chest and abdomen. His dark azure skin was smooth beneath your touch, the defined muscles firm and sculpted, evidence of his disciplined training and physical prowess as a warrior.

A cross frown danced on your lips as you retorted, "It is you who is placing my hands over your skin. I am just making sure you're learning properly. “

Neteyam's lips curled into a smirk, amusement dancing in his eyes. "I don't see you removing them," he quipped, his fingers lightly brushing against the back of your hand.

With a shake of your head, you slap at his side of his ribs, eliciting a grunt of surprise from the man.

"Enough. Show me the form I taught," you instruct, shifting back into your role as his teacher.

Neteyam does his breathing exercises accordingly, and you watch with a keen eye, pleased to see his improved technique.

Deep breath in.

Deep breath out.

"Yes," you nod approvingly, genuinely impressed, "that is good."

As the lesson continued to flow smoothly, you instinctively moved closer to Neteyam, wanting to better feel the rise and fall of his chest as he practiced his breathing. In response, Neteyam couldn't resist the impulse to pull at your arms, playfully coaxing you into his lap.

"Skxawng! " With a laugh, you surrendered and settled into his embrace.

Fronts firmly pressed against each other, the closeness between you felt comforting and familiar. It was like two halves of a whole coming together, bodies fitting together so naturally that it was as if they were meant to be in this position.

Neither of you made a move to break the embrace. There was no rush, no need to move on from this moment of connection. Instead, you found yourself cupping his face in your hands, a rare smile gracing your lips as you gazed down at him. Neteyam's fingers traced soothing patterns on your back, fiddling with the back of your woven chest piece, causing a delightful shiver to travel down your spine. The simple touch spoke volumes, conveying a level of intimacy that went beyond words.

"I am still so impressed at how fast you have learned," you whisper softly.

"I have a great teacher," Neteyam laughs, his tail coiling around your thigh in an affectionate manner. Mirroring his actions, your tail trails up his torso, exploring his rugged skin before wrapping itself around his forearm.

As your hands move to his sides, intending to trace comforting circles, you notice a sudden jerk from Neteyam, followed by a low hiss slipping from his lips. In an instant, worry floods your senses, and you draw away from him, giving him space.

"What is it?" you say in panic, your eyes quickly scanning his figure for any signs of distress. They land on small, bloodied scratch marks by his ribs, and realization washes over you.

"Ah," you grimace, a hint of shame in your voice as you hastily reach into your medicinal pouch, your fingers searching for a specific bottle. "I apologize. I did not realize my claws were digging into your skin."

Neteyam offers a reassuring smile, though you can tell that he isn't blaming you in the slightest. "It's alright," he says. "You are acting like I was just maimed. These are little scratches, nothing serious."

You appreciate his attempt to alleviate your concern, knowing that he is not blaming you in the slightest. Still, you find the bottle you were searching for and carefully apply the healing ointment to the scratch marks, your touch featherlight. Neteyam observes your hands move swiftly, appreciating the skill with which you handle the situation.

As Tsahìk, you were used to being gentle and careful with your touch, but there were moments when your physical attributes could unintentionally cause harm. At the tips of your slender fingers were rugged and curved structures resembling claws. This unique feature was a defining characteristic of your people, granting you a remarkable advantage in navigating challenging terrains with ease.

Once you finish applying the ointment, Neteyam takes ahold of your hands, dragging them up until they are eye-level. The warrior's touch is tender as he begins to trace his finger along the curve of your claws. His eyes study the intricate detailing, admiring the look of your unique appendages.

When relaxed, your fingers appeared deceptively normal, concealing the sharp daggers within. But with a simple flex of your hand, the claws emerged gracefully. During his lessons, you would usually keep them out, ready to demonstrate and assist him at any moment.

"I should have been more careful," you murmur, withdrawing your claws.

Neteyam shakes his head, his expression gentle and reassuring. "It's not your fault." He then holds your hands in his, his large palm practically engulfing yours. "Your baby hands did not cause much damage anyways."

In offense, you playfully slap his shoulder, your mouth dropping open in feigned shock. "I will have you know that these 'baby hands' have scaled mountains and traversed terrains you cannot begin to imagine!"

Neteyam raises an eyebrow, pretending to be unimpressed, but a mischievous grin tugs at his lips. "Oh, I am sure they have."

The carefree scene is abruptly interrupted as a shadow suddenly looms over you. Lifting your gaze, you find a familiar face twisted into a stern expression, the lines of displeasure etched across his edged features.

"Tserat," you spat the name out as if it were a poison lathered on your tongue, your disdain for him evident in the sharpness of your tone.

Throughout your life, this man had been a constant thorn in your side, always critical of your choices and quick to engage in arguments.

Among many, his vehement disapproval of your sudden engagement with the eldest Sully boy was no secret, and you were well aware that he had something to say about it now.

The Na'vi acknowledged you with a forced smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. There was a flicker of malice in his gaze as he shifted his focus to Neteyam, sizing up the warrior with a critical eye.

"Forest boy, I see you're enjoying your little lesson," Tserat quipped with a mocking tone. "Didn't know you needed such close instruction."

"We were just practicing some breathing techniques," Neteyam replied, his eyes narrowing slightly as he maintained a remarkable composure despite the charged atmosphere. The venomous tone with which Tserat addressed him was not lost on the Omatikayan, but he chose not to acknowledge it — avoiding any unnecessary conflict.

And yet, Tserat's taunts only continued as he stepped closer, trying to provoke a reaction. "A lesson on breathing techniques?" he scoffed. "Those are only given to little children."

Your patience was wearing thin, and frustration seeped into your voice as you snapped back at him, "Why do you come to us? What do you want?"

"What do I want? I want to know why you are allowing him to seduce you like this," Tserat hissed, his glare intensifying. "This vrrtep—"

The derogatory word hit a nerve, and anger surged within you. Snarling in response, your tail whipped around angrily, "You speak to future Olo'eyktan, Tserat!"

"Future Olo'eyktan?" Tserat scoffed derisively. "The halfbreed can barely scale up a hill! A forest dweller like him wouldn't last a day with our mountain-born warriors, let alone dare to lead them."

"You would do well not to underestimate him," you spat back with a fiery edge, warning firm as you stood your ground, defending Neteyam. "He is embracing our ways with utmost respect and honor, more than some who were born into it."

"This outsider can learn, but his roots are deep in the forest. He will never truly understand the heart and soul of our people." Tserat remarked, face twisted in a hateful sneer. Then, his attention shifted to Neteyam, words dripping with scorn, "You should just go away!"

"Tserat—" you interject, but your words are cut short when a strong hand latches onto your elbow, shutting down the stream of your furious thoughts.

Neteyam steps closer, his hands now moving to gently grip at your waist, seeking to ground you.

"Leave it," he urges softly, trying to diffuse the tension. "Leave it, tìyawn."

You oblige, trying to shift your focus to Neteyam, desperately wanting to tune out Tserat's jeers, to let them fade into the background like distant echoes. But you knew him all too well; if he was anything, he was relentless.

"Stupid girl," the hunter hisses, his words laced with venom, as he whips his head back in agitation. "Always going head first. Never thinking!"

"Watch your tone," Neteyam growls under his breath, the low rumble vibrating through his chest like distant thunder, as his tail wraps itself around your hips protectively. Though his eyes remain fixed on Tserat, Neteyam's senses are on high alert, attuned to every nuance of your body language—from the subtle shift of your ears pinning back against your head to the coiling of your tail low by your feet.

At the sight of your clear discomfort, his other hand itches at the side of his hip where his blade was, instincts screaming for him to act.

"Hey!" The loud voice of Lo'ak booms across the clearing, announcing his arrival. His eyes narrows as he strides forward, each heavy step accompanied by the rhythmic swing of his braids and the clicking of beads.

"Fuck is your problem?" Lo'ak scowls, his tone laced with anger and disdain. He forcefully shoves Tserat back, nearly knocking the man off balance. The grin Tserat flashes at the Omatikaya in response is nothing but a display of teeth and pure viciousness.

"Look who's here, another half-bred freak," Tserat bites back as he pushes against Lo'ak's shoulders, attempting to regain some ground.

Kiri, appearing in a disheveled mess but fierce as ever, storms into the scene — anger lacing her features. Without hesitation, she raises her voice, directing her anger at Tserat.

"Leave us alone!" Kiri shouts as she takes hold of Lo'ak's arm, preventing her younger brother from making any rash moves. But before she can persuade Lo'ak to calm himself, he wrenches his arm free from her grasp.

Without a second thought, Lo'ak hurls himself forward, his fist colliding with Tserat's jaw in a sickening thud. The hunter's head snaps to the side, blood spewing from his split lip as he's left momentarily stunned. After coming to his senses, Tserat snarls, eyes filled with rage as he hits back at Lo'ak with an equal measure of force.

Both of them grapple each other, bodies locked in a struggle. In the chaos of the crossfire, Tserat unexpectedly knocks into you, catching you off guard. Your feet tangle, and you stumble backward, unable to maintain your balance. With a harsh thud, you crash onto the unforgiving dirt ground, pain flaring through your body.

"Tserat!" you shriek, a mixture of anger and pain lacing your voice.

Before you can fully gather your bearings, Neteyam is already in action. In one fluid and furious motion, he lunges forward and shoves Tserat away from his brother, the sheer force of the push sending the hunter hurtling back into the rugged rock face of the mountain. The impact reverberates through the air, a loud thud echoing in the clearing, followed by the rumble of loose stones tumbling down the slope.

Dust billows up around Tserat, momentarily obscuring his figure in a haze of grit and debris. As the cloud of dust clears, Tserat emerges, his eyes burning with a dangerous glint, his rage undeterred by the impact.

Neteyam's lips curl back into a snarl, fangs bared in an unmistakable display of aggression. A guttural hiss then erupts from his lips, a growl that emanates from deep within his chest. It's a primal warning, a clear message that he will not tolerate any further harm directed towards you or anyone else he cares about.

"You—!" Tserat, refusing to back down, meets Neteyam's hiss with one of his own, his fingers tightening around the hilt of the axe at his hip.

Neteyam's response is swift and decisive. He too arms himself, unsheathing his knife. Its sharp metallic sound rings out like a battle cry, slicing through the air with a deadly "shhlck!" The blade gleams in the dappled sunlight, its edge honed and ready for any threat that may come his way.

As the pain from the earlier shove courses through your body, you grit your teeth and rise to your feet, adrenaline fueling you. You rush to Neteyam's side, feeling the rapid thud of his heart beneath your trembling hand as you press it against his chest.

"Ma'Neteyam" you hush. "Mawey. It is alright. It is alright."

Tserat's eyes burn with envy and resentment as he watches the bond between you and Neteyam, a bond that he can't comprehend, much less accept. To him, it's a betrayal, a disloyalty to your people.

The way your touch traced the outlines of Neteyam's skin, the concern in your eyes, and the unwavering support you offered—it all but intensified his misplaced fury. The sight of your closeness with this outsider feels like a knife twisting in his heart, fueling his anger and pushing him to the brink of it all.

Driven by a whirlwind of emotions, Tserat lunged toward you both with a roar of anger. But before he could reach you, a commanding voice cut through the air like a thunderclap, halting him in his tracks.

"Ftang!"

As you turn around, you see your mother landing with a mighty thump, her ikran letting out a shrill, piercing cry. The elderly chief dismounted and approached your group with a stony expression, her fur coat still adorned with remnants of snow.

With every step, your mother shed away her usual warm and caring persona as Iumayi and slipped into the familiar face of Olo'eyktan. Ruthless, cold, Olo'eyktan.

"Why are you here, boy?" she hissed, her icy gaze remaining fixed on Tserat. He looked away, clearly disgruntled and tense under the weight of her scrutiny. ”You disobeyed direct orders! You are supposed to be on patrol! Instead, I see you stirring up a fight!"

Amidst her tirade, your mother's gaze locked onto yours. Her stern expression softened momentarily as Neteyam rushed to help you up, his touch tenderly tracing the outlines of your bruises. The sight of her child in distress stirred her maternal instincts, but she swiftly composed herself, tearing her gaze away from the display of care between you and Neteyam, refocusing on the matter at hand.

"Olo'eykte," Tserat gritted his teeth, his words now flowing in the Iuva'rian dialect, knowing that Neteyam couldn't understand it, "Can you not see this mockery of a union? Y/N was promised to me."

"It doesn't matter what you believe was promised," your mother stated resolutely, switching her language to match his. "Eywa did not will for your union to happen. The Great Mother guides us all, and sometimes our paths lead us in different directions."

As his ears pinned back, a hint of vulnerability flashed in Tserat's eyes. Frustration, resentment, and envy tangled together, gnawing at his heart.

The memory of your father's vision surged in his mind, a painful reminder of what could have been. He recalled how the Olo'eykte had approached him, believing it was he who was in the vision. "A mighty warrior, fierce and protective of his people," she had said, her eyes ablaze with belief in his destiny.

With those words echoing in his ears, Tserat had undergone rigorous training, honing his skills and preparing himself for the role he believed was his birthright. But all of that changed when the Sullys arrived. With Neteyam's emergence as Toruk Makto's son, everything shifted.

The vision, once meant for Tserat, was now directed toward Neteyam, a forest dweller with no ancestral ties to the clan. The mantle of leadership, which he had longed for and devoted himself to, was abruptly snatched away, as if it had never truly been within his grasp.

"Everything is changing," Tserat spat out, hurt etched across his features. "This family brings destruction and war wherever they go. What's to say they won't bring it here?"

"This warrior," Tserat turned to look at Neteyam, his expression brimming with disdain."—does not even know how to breathe our air properly. And you want him to lead us?"

"This is not the time or place for a challenge," Iumayi scorns. "If you believe yourself more worthy to lead, you will have your opportunity to prove it in a ritual battle after he completes the coming of age ceremony."

Tserat ran his tongue over his lips, his emotions carefully hidden behind a neutral mask. With a sigh, he averted his gaze, locking onto the ground, refusing to make eye contact with the chief.

The tension in the air was palpable as the confrontation reached its conclusion. Tserat eventually turned and left, his departure marked by one last glowering look directed Neteyam's way.

Neteyam, still holding you close, sensed the lingering unease and decided it was best to move away from the scene. With one arm wrapped protectively around you, he bid a goodbye to your mother and led you toward Seze.

The Omatikayan carefully lifted you up and secured you onto her back, ensuring your safety as he climbed on behind you.

"Irayo," you whisper. Neteyam's strong arms encircled you, and you leaned back, resting against him

"Kea tìkin," Neteyam hums.

Neteyam had led you to a secluded green clearing hidden deep in the heart of the valley. The tall, ancient trees stood as protective guardians, shielding you both from the prying eyes of the outside world. The rustling leaves and the distant songs of wind created a calming atmosphere, offering a private haven for you and Neteyam to grapple with the emotions that had been swirling between you.

Approaching the dense thicket of trees that hovered over the peak, your steps faltered when Neteyam's rough fingers wrapped around your elbow, gently pulling you back. His hand then rested softly on your hip, thumb tracing soothing circles on your striped skin.

The weight of moodiness still clung to you like a stubborn fog, but his touch and tender words began to penetrate that cloud, slowly lifting the veil of uncertainty that had settled.

"What's wrong? Talk to me, baby," Neteyam murmured, the foreign English endearment slipping off his accented tongue as smooth as the cascading waters of a tranquil stream.

Despite his plea, your lips were sealed shut, teeth biting down on the plump flesh, eyes refusing to look away from the blooming purple bruises on your skin. Faintly, you felt a burning sensation building up on your waterline, an all-too-familiar sign of tears threatening to spill over. It was an emotion you had long tried to suppress over the years, but the events of the day had taken their toll on your strength.

"Sweet girl," Neteyam soothed, his thumb pressing onto your lips and gently easing it away from your fangs. He then reached out to brush a reassuring hand against your cheek, guiding your watery gaze to meet his. The sight of your unshed tears pierced through him like a spear, striking a chord deep within his heart.

"Tserat is a fool," you drew in a shaky breath, the frustration evident in your voice. "Stubborn. Resistant to change!"

"I saw," he acknowledged with a low chuckle, but his expression softened with understanding. "People like him hold on to old ways out of fear. But change is the natural course of life. Do not worry, they will come to understand soon. Give them time."

Neteyam then paused, his eyes taking you in, a rugged hand running up your back in a comforting gesture. The forest around you seemed to grow quieter. "You two seemed to know each other…"

You nodded, a mix of emotions welling up inside you as memories of the past flooded back. "Yes," you replied, your voice tinged with nostalgia. "We were once very close. Me and him were promised."

"Oh," Neteyam breathed out, his voice tinged with a deep, rich green envy that simmered just below the surface. The intensity in his eyes blazed, and a hint of possessiveness seeped into his tone.

His hand on your waist tightened slightly, drawing you closer to him, and you willingly leaned into his embrace, finding comfort in his protective hold.

The lithe form of his tail swished from side to side, revealing the restlessness he felt, while his eyes remained fixed on yours, guarded yet filled with a yearning for understanding. You could tell the man before you bled with questions, but he was treading carefully, respectful of your boundaries and not wanting to intrude.

It was something you had noticed over the past few months spent together. Neteyam, a warrior at heart, was skilled at concealing his emotions. He had a way of pushing down his feelings, riding out pain - both emotional and physical with a stoic determination until they dissipated. His strength and resilience were admirable, and you respected his ability to handle difficult situations without faltering.

But as the days turned into weeks and then months, a part of you longed to see more of his vulnerability, to understand the layers beneath his tough exterior. You wanted to know the man beyond the warrior, the man behind the title of future Olo'eyktan, the person he was when he let his guard down.

In moments of quiet intimacy like this, you caught glimpses of tenderness in him, emotions he carefully kept in check. It made you feel that you were so close to understanding him on a deeper level, yet there was still a distance that kept you from fully unraveling the complexities of his heart.

"I said once," you reiterated gently, wanting him to know that the past was merely a stepping stone that led you to him. "I did not go through with the ceremony."

His grip on your waist softened, and he pulled you even closer, intertwining his fingers with yours. It felt as if the world around you had melted away, leaving just the two of you in that secluded green clearing.

"Why did you not?" Neteyam's question hung in the air like a delicate thread, his voice barely above a whisper, brimming with vulnerability.

You took a moment to gather your thoughts, the topic of conversation causing your heart to race. The freckles upon his nose and forehead caught the golden rays of the setting sun, making him look even more mesmerizing as his eyes languidly traced your face.

Deep breath in.

Deep breath out.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you found the strength to answer honestly. "I did not want him," you stated firmly, making it clear that your heart had never truly belonged to Tserat.

Ears pulled flat back, he stepped closer and found his hand reaching out to take a hold of his your hip. His gaze was dark, untamed like the forest as flickers of emotion flashed across the specs of gold, brown and green in his eyes. The tension between you and him thickened, fueled by a potent mix of jealousy, desire, and the simmering anger from the confrontation.

"And who do you want?" Neteyam's voice was a husky murmur, tinged with longing. He searched your eyes for an answer, almost as if he feared what would come out of your lips.

And you knew that this was the moment of truth, where your confession could either bring you closer or drive you apart.

In the past few months, both of you had danced around the touches of affection, tiptoeing around the unspoken feelings that had quietly but intensely grown between you. On the surface, it seemed as if you were merely fulfilling your duties, following the paths arranged for you. But beneath it all, there was something deeper, a bond that had become undeniable.

Standing before Neteyam, you could feel the tremor in his touch, the unspoken fear of rejection. But there was also a glimmer of hope shimmering in those golden pools, a belief that maybe, just maybe, you would choose him.

Without skipping a beat, you looked up into his eyes, your own gaze unwavering. "You."

"I want you, Neteyam."

Neteyam felt his heart leap to his throat at your words, desire chipping away at was left of the walls he had built up. His grip on you tightened and he looked into your eyes, seeking permission for what he was about to do, gaze gliding down to your lips.

Without words, you both knew what you wanted, what you needed. You understood the unspoken plea in his eyes and nodded, granting him permission to close the distance between you.

Neteyam's hand moved from your hip to your lower back, pulling you closer as he drew you into a deep kiss. Your fingers threaded through his dark hair, and you felt the roughness of his braids against your skin. The taste of him was intoxicating, a blend of earthy warmth and a hint of something uniquely him.

"I want you too," he breathed out against your lips, attempting to pull you even closer, molding his body onto yours. "More than anything."

Minutes pass and the intensity of your passionate kiss gradually subsided. Finally, you both drew away, finding yourselves breathless yet exhilarated. The rush of emotions still coursed through your veins, leaving you both trembling with the weight of the moment.

Neteyam's forehead pressed against yours, his warm breath mingling with yours as you gazed into each other's eyes, the unspoken words hanging heavily in the air.

"I see you," you finally gasped out, your voice hitching. Those three simple words carried the weight of all your feelings, a declaration of your understanding and acceptance of him, flaws and all.

Neteyam froze, his breath catching in his throat. The exhale from his lips was entirely broken, as if you had stolen his last remaining breath from his lungs. Slowly, he found himself giving in to the overwhelming rush of emotions, the walls he had built over years finally falling down in ruins.

"I see you," Neteyam returned, accent thick, voice breathless and guttural. He leaned in to kiss you once more, sealing his emotions with the tender touch of his lips against yours. Those three words were repeated over and over against your lips, a desperate show of his affections.

Neteyam bared everything he had inside, his deepest desires, fears, and dreams, pouring his heart before you like a crimson offering as he hoped beyond hope that you would handle it with the utmost care.

< PREV | SERIES MASTERLIST | NEXT >

the relationship is established! now its time to plan on how to destroy it. /hj

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kedsandtubesocks · 8 months ago

Text

part of your world

Javier Peña x Mermaid!Reader

summary: you know the surface is dangerous, but how dangerous can it be with a man this gorgeous

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI. Post Narcos Season 3, one brief threat of drowning, magic & fantasy, mermaid lore, light gendered language, soft!Javi, protective!Javi, major pinning & yearning, light angst, Javi and his use of nicknames, instance of violence/gun usage with blood & severe injury, heavy implied smut with spicy/soft moments

word count: 9.9k (i’m sorry)

a/n: our first fic of our mini mer-may series! this is my love letter to all of us who played mermaids in the pool & dreamed of a handsome prince waiting for us, I couldn’t have done this without @perotovar @burntheedges @saradika & @tuquoquebrute cheering me on… I can’t thank you babes enough! And to you, if you read this - I’m so thankful for you too ♡

The storm approaches fast, looms in the air with a brewing quiet spark you can feel on your skin.

Yet the men in the boat continue to unpack, getting ready to sail.

You’ve been watching them since they arrived here earlier today. This part of the pier is your favorite to watch surface dwellers in the protection of the waves and the shadows.

It’s a quiet season this time around the Gulf. You’re even surprised the men are even out here. Two seem youthful, playfully kidding with each other. Most of them seem older, wear their age lines beautifully with smiles and laughter.

It’s why you love watching the land dwellers so much. The beauty of embracing their age among a turbulent world is admirable.

Or maybe you just enjoy watching these humans because one has caught your attention.

Older yet still young, a weariness floats around this man. He moves around with confidence on the boat and is incredibly beautiful. His deep dark eyes remind you of the earth’s soil. With a sharp jaw, nice facial hair and handsome nose - he’s unlike any human you’ve ever seen.

Cautiously and protectively, the man keeps an eye on one of the older land dwellers, his father possibly with how similarly they look. You admire that. He also makes sure all the fishing lines are safe and secure while the others talk with excited glee. But you ache to cry out in protest, urge them to stop because you sense what’s approaching that they might not.

“Maybe we should stay put, Pop.” Your handsome human says, and your heart jumps. Maybe he senses it too.

The man, his father, waves him off saying to not worry.

Dread fills you fast watching the ship slowly leave the port. Diving under the waves to follow, you just want to be sure they make it back.

The ocean shifts tempestuously. The boat isn’t even that far from the harbor when the storm unleashes its fury. The sea swirls in that wildness. Even among the waves you hear the screams from above.

Before you can reach the surface, someone falls into the water.

From the color of the shirt you know exactly who it is.

You swim as fast as you can to your handsome human now under the waves. Even for you, a strong swimmer, it takes a lot to fight against the surge until you have the man in your arms and swim towards the surface. Your tail thrashes strong against the current.

You keep the surface dweller pressed above you, shielding you from the eyes of the others on the boat.

The man you’ve saved coughs out the water as you try keeping him afloat while also staying hidden. Cries of joy erupt over seeing him.

The waves continue splashing against you making it harder to stay hidden. Then a loud boat horn arrives. Your eyes snap to the side.

A familiar red aid ship approaches.

Fear clutches you fast. They might see you. Then a wave rises high, and you can’t fight against the ocean’s power. It takes you and the man underneath it.

The water knocks you out a bit breathless. But you also see this as a chance to save this human then finally make an escape among the turbulent waves.

Securing him solidly in your arms, you swim back to the surface. With all your might, you guide him up to the shadow of the boat.

The yelling on the surface is loud, chaotic and frantic.

“There! There! I see him!” Someone cries. You support the man under the water, holding him up from the waves until he’s hoisted out.

While you watch him rise about, you sink below.

From the cover of the nearby rocks, you watch the rescue boats guide the main ship back to safety. Everyone scrambles to check on the man you rescued.

His father cries holding him and it’s a treasured sight. But you don’t miss the way your human’s eyes scan the water, almost frantic and confused -

Like he’s searching for something.

You try not to linger on that and instead descend back into the water.

Talk swirls about the boat saved during the storm and the man who fell overboard and survived.

You don’t want to embrace pride, but you soak in the nice satisfied truth knowing you helped.

But you’re tired, worn from the waves. You should have maybe stayed deeper under the water for the day. So after lingering around the dock, you move to a secluded spot beneath the larger pier. There’s a few sand dunes and you swim to rest halfway on one of them.

The sound of the waves soothes you. Slowly, you close your eyes.

“It’s you.” Until a human man’s voice arrives, and your eyes snap open panicked.

Off to the side along the coastline stands the man from yesterday, the handsome human.

In the sun’s glow, he’s radiant. But this is dangerous. He’s spotted you. After your wide terrified eyes lock with his, instantly you jump into the water.

You could have sworn you heard him scream out “Wait!” but you’re swimming too fast to even turn back around to check.

Even under the safety of the sea, your heart rattles wildly in your chest, erratic.

He saw you, that handsome surface dweller saw you.

There’s a warning tale that’s spread among your world.

One of your kind fell in love with a human, went to the surface and lost her heart.

She never returned, presumed to be dead. She became a haunting story told as a warning. That tale, along with many other frightful encounters, repeat over and over in your head now.

You shouldn’t have come back.

But you just had to check.

You vow this will be the first and last time.

Peeking out slowly from the water, you almost sputter out in panicked surprise.

That man sits on the shoreline. He’s waiting.

He’s alone or seems alone, and even brought a full pack of items.

His lovely deep eyes continue scanning the waves.

Is he looking for you?

He has to be. But are his intentions pure is the true question.

Staring at him this long becomes your downfall. His rich soil eyes catch you. Immediately the man bolts up, and you drop just below the surface.

“I saw you!”

Just barely below the waves, you can hear his voice a bit waterlogged.

“Please. I promise I won’t hurt you.” He urges.

You don’t know if you can trust him.

But wanting to make sure, you pop your head up just a bit. His eyes are gems, precious dark gems shimmering bright and vibrant when he sees you. You ache to swim closer.

“You’re real.” He exhales out.

You simply stare at him.

“Can you understand me?” He asks a bit slowly.

Deciding to be braver, you rise up more from the water.

“Maybe.” You answer then watch as the man stumbles back stunned.

“You…you can talk.” He stammers.

You decide to be coy and simply shrug.

“What are you?” The man presses.

That’s the line. You’ve already done too much. You shouldn’t have come at all.

“Javi! Javier? Hey, primo, where d’ya go?” Someone calls and the surface dweller turns.

That’s his name.

Javier.

It’s perfect.

But someone else approaches, and it’s enough to terrify you. Sinking back into the water, you linger again just below.

You hear the man, Javier, cry out another loud “wait!”

More voices come and tease Javier.

“Mijo survived the sea and now can’t get enough of it.” Someone teases goodnaturedly.

Soon all the voices announce they’re heading back.

“Uh, give me a few. I’ll head back in a minute.” Javier replies.

The voices leave, but you still refuse to rise above.

“I hope you’re still here.” He says. Fear clutches at you wondering if you’re visible from the surface.

“Or fuck, maybe I just hope you are.” Javier sighs.

Then a moment passes.

“I just… just wanted to say thank you.” His voice even under the water is sincere, deeply earnest.

You’ve never once thought you would ever hear a human thank you and so sincerely. Before you can stop yourself, you rise up fast out of the water. But he’s gone.

The next morning you swim to that same spot.

Your throat feels tight when you already see him walking down the beach as well. And once you and him spot each other it feels like the world melts a bit.

This time you also swim and stay a little closer to the shore line.

“You came back.” Javier mutters in disbelief.

“So did you.” You reply back.

This is the most you’ve ever spoken with a land dweller.

“Thank you.” Javier breathes out. “For saving my life.”

You nod.

“Are you feeling better?” You ask, knowing humans have an unfortunate condition of experiencing a delayed drowning within their lungs.

“Oh yeah, I’m good.” Javier nods. “Apparently the medics and coast guards still can’t understand how I managed to make it out pretty good but…”

His eyes twinkle looking at you, and a prickly like sensation sparks across your skin

“I thought I was seeing shit when I saw you.” He mutters. “You looked like something out of a dream.”

The waves keep you afloat, but you feel weak.

You even softly smile back to him.

“It’s understandable. Most of your kind think we’re manatees afterall.” You tell him and Javi’s eyebrows shoot up.

“So you really are a mermaid?” Javier blurts out.

You never fully understood where that name came from. You simply shrug a bit playful and enjoy the amused snort of a sound Javier gives.

“Well, whatever you are, I owe you my fucking life.” He exhales, and again his words dig deep into the core of your being.

The tiniest smile tugs at your lips.

“So do you just hang around and what, save unfortunate guys like me that go overboard?” Javi asks moving to sit on the sand.

He wants to stay and talk with you. You swim just a bit closer.

You shake your head no, unfortunately telling him you often stay hidden.

“We’re not meant to communicate with others on land, much less be seen by them.” This is already one of the worst offenses.

But you’re too far gone, and you know that.

His beautiful face scrunches up. “So then why did you save me if you aren’t supposed to?”

You couldn’t reveal it’s because of how you were immediately drawn to him. Instead your heart speaks faster as you shrug.

“I can’t really tell you why, I just knew I had to. I could sense the storm coming and just…I happened to be at the right place at the right time I guess.”

You knew how foolish surface dwellers could be. Yet, there was something weathered but compassionate about Javier.

His face flickers while his mouth drops. You don’t know if you’ve said something wrong.

Then a bashful half grin tugs at Javier’s soft lips, and your heart feels light like the sunbeams on the waves.

“I’m Javier.” He blurts out, and you grin.

“Javi.” You repeat the nickname you heard used for him.

A surprised twinkle flashing in his eyes colors him youthful, and he smiles bright.

“Yeah,” He nods. “So what’s your name? Can I at least know that?”

This is a point of no return, and you’re already this far.

So among the warm waves, you give your name to him freely.

The way his face lights up hearing it is incredible. Then hearing him repeat your name back, breathing it from his lips, feels sacred.

Everyday after that you meet him at this same spot either early in the warm morning or in the soft evening breeze when he’s done with his day. You learn he’s staying here with his father for a month to visit family.

“My Tío,” he explains. “He’s been needing some help around his place. So my dad and I decided to just enjoy some time out here.”

It means your time with him is limited, precious, a pearl you just found from an oyster that you want to hoard now.

As curious as you are about him, it’s no surprise Javier is just as eager to ask questions.

“Do you have a uh…family I guess nearby?”

“No.” You answer him truthfully, wistfully. “I haven’t seen them in a while.”

It’s been many moon cycles since you left home.

“Wait, why?” Javier’s face frowns as the sea breeze tussles his hair. Your fingers ache to already brush it aside.

“They were going to force me to marry another of my kind, someone I didn’t care for. And I couldn’t handle it. So I left.” You simply tell him the truth.

You wanted a choice, that’s all. But your family refused to allow you that.

“Oh… I’m sorry.” His voice, gentle and kind, feels like a warm morning glow.

“Must be lonely out here.” He adds a bit sorrowful, almost aching.

Your eyes can’t handle how soft, how piercing his gaze bores into yours. So you glance to the ocean now. The sun reflects like glass onto the waves. When you first started visiting the surface, you reasoned it was to understand land dwellers more. However, in your heart you know it’s because of the loneliness.

Laughter, vibrant music, the smell of delicious food, the ache of belonging, it all swirls from the shoreline almost beckoning to you.

“Sometimes,” you finally answer Javier. “But it’s alright. The sea provides.”

The saying you were raised with still rings out true.

The sea brought you here and brought you to him.

And it’s something special.

During an early morning, Javier approaches the water this time. Normally he stays on the shoreline. You’ve been the one creeping closer and closer through the water towards him.

Now you’re stunned.

He’s bare chested and wears swimming shorts you’ve seen other surface dwellers wear among the waves. But it’s the amount of skin you’re seeing, the broadness of his shoulders and small pudge of his tummy, your mouth feels dry.

“Thought I’d maybe get in the water this time.” He says bashfully, but with confidence he walks into the waves.

He’s brave. You thought after falling into the sea, he would hesitate to return. Yet he moves with a confident grace.

“You’re brave.” You even tell him, not hiding your admiration.

He barks an amused laugh.

“Yeah well, seen worse things than the water.” Javier says a bit darkly.

That perks up your curiosity.

Soon enough Javier steps closer, until he abruptly freezes.

“Is this okay?” This considerate man, he’s asking if you’re alright with him getting closer.

You nod, instead find yourself swimming out a bit further, deeper, into the ocean.

And Javier follows.

Now to any bystander on the beach it’s like you’re another land dweller among the waves floating with him.

Yet the call of the sea, your nature and upbringing, slowly seeps in. You begin swimming around the man. It’s a trait to circle around something you desire and want to keep within your eye watch.

It’s a dance. While you move slowly swimming around him, his eyes never leave yours. That is until a wave jostles you both. It pushes you closer, almost colliding into Javier until his warm hands steady your shoulders. He’s touching you.

Among the splash of the water, being so close to him, your tail flutters accidentally brushing against him.

“So it was a tail.” He mutters like he’s trying to believe it.

While his eyes stare down at the water, yours stay focused on him.

Self conscious, worried and nervous, you try swinging your tail out of his sight.

“Es hermosa.” Javier adds.

You’ve picked up many dialects here among the coastline. He’s calling your tail, you, beautiful.

You can’t handle how badly your soul now seems to ache for this man and how your heart races wild. So with the waves settled you quickly move back to swimming around him.

Feeling giddy, you playfully move your hand against the water splashing him. Javier blinks of his trance, sputtering when the salty sea water hits him.

“That’s not nice.” He scoffs then moves to splash you back stronger.

It becomes a childish competition of splashing each other until seaweed unknowingly curls around Javier making him react in horror and you laugh. In playful retribution, he throws the seaweed at you.

“Be careful, I’ll send dolphins after you.” You tease, and his eyes go wide.

“Can you talk to sea creatures?!” He asks excitedly.

You laugh even harder, shaking your head no. Javier narrows his eyes, slightly suspicious. Playfully he splashes you again. Laughter escapes you buoyant.

“Javi!” Until someone yells out from the shoreline, and your heart drops.

Snapping your eyes to the shore, there’s a few men waiting, staring out.

Panic swarms in you. Your body jolts to move, until Javier’s arm gently moves to hold you steady.

“Don’t leave. It’ll make it more obvious.” Javi whispers under his breath. “Just relax, stay calm.”

“What’s a pretty thing like her doing with a pendejo like you?!” One of the young guys yells out with a joking laugh.

Your heart races petrified. The waves keep you concealed, but having this much attention and being raw in the open feels too much.

“Fuck off Richie.” Javi scoffs back in a yell.

“Dumbass fucking friend of my cousin.” He explains to you with a gruff mutter.

Yet his hand gently drags down your arm to go to yours. His hand, so much bigger and warmer, squeezes yours.

“It’ll be okay. Don’t worry I’ll keep you safe.”

His words warm, soft and gentle on the breeze, get tangled in your heart. With a final squeeze to your hand, he swims back towards the land. When Javier reaches the shore and gives you a casual wave, you weakly smile back.

As they leave, you don’t miss the way one of the men, Richie, if you remember right, turns to glance at you over his shoulder. His eyes terrify you with how piercing they stay on you.

But the minute Javi and those men fade off the shoreline, you fade into the waves.

Having the other land dwellers see you is a grim reminder of how reckless you’re being.

But you don’t want to stop.

If anything, it makes you simply want to draw Javi to you even more. The humans painted your kind as temptresses who lure people to the sea and to their death. You understand now why. There’s an unexplainable urge burning in you to draw Javier further towards you, like the pull of the tides to the shoreline.

So the next time you see him, you tell him to bring his swimwear and to save the day to be out at sea.

One of his eyebrows lifts a bit curiously. “And you’re not telling me where we’re going?”

You simply smile, toothy and wide.

The sun is kind today and with no harsh wind it’s a peaceful day among the waves. Javi, with his glorious warm sun kissed bare chest slips into the water with you and hisses.

“S’fucking cold.” He sneers, and his face crumples into a grumpy handsome pout.

“Feels fine to me.” You joke. Javi gives you a dry look that makes you grin.

The spot you take him to is further down the coastline, across the beach wall, and you’re thankful it’s not too far. It’s also a bit more secluded against the higher rocks that act like a slight barrier. The water gets shallow towards the edge of the rocks blending in towards the tide pools. It’s a comfort getting to stay in the water, yet the low tide allows Javier time to fully walk comfortably.

“Woah!” He gasps bright when his eyes fall to the tide pools.

“Holy fucking shit.” He whispers.

You simply watch him hypnotized. He points out the different creatures he spots, the way the water changes among the rocks coloring, its beautiful.

“I didn't even know this shit was here.” He mutters.

Not many do.

“That’s not all why we’re here.” You tell him warmly.

With a nudge out to the open waves, Javier and you turn just in time to see it.

A sweet dolphin, porpoises as the locals love to call them, jumps out among the waves.

Javier’s surprised gasp is beautiful.

“They always love to swim here, a lot less people.” You explain.

Now you move to slip under the water. It’s been a while since you’ve used your voice to click and make the chirps to call, but you’re thankful the dolphins hear you.

You beckon Javier to join you deeper in the water and he eagerly does. The pod swims up eagerly. Even a few jump to pop their heads up.

“You said you couldn’t speak to sea creatures!” He exclaims, and you laugh.

“I can’t! Think of it as making a noise to call for a land animal. That’s all I did.” You explain.

His gorgeous face scrunches up grumpy, almost unsatisfied, with your answer. Snickering you return your focus back to the sweet creatures swimming around.

A few of the dolphins are more playfully curious than the others and readily take in the attention you and Javi give to them. One even particularly gets jealous when Javi moves to pet another and she squeaks out in protest even pushing up against him.

His laugh is pure magic. His eyes crinkle beautifully, and you think you’re seeing one of the world’s hidden treasures.

Eventually the dolphins take their leave. Javier makes his way to a safer spot along the shoreline and after checking the area, seeing it’s still pretty vacant, you allow the waves to wash you up to the beach.

Alongside him, you lounge on the shore.

It’s the closest you’ve been to him, the most you’ve ever been on the beach itself.

Your entire scaled lower body is practically out in the open for anyone passing by to see, but you want to be this close to him. You don’t want the water to keep you seperated.

“Are there…others of your kind around here?” He asks low.

You shake your head. “Not recently. I’ve found an older abandoned cave of someone that maybe possibly lived here, but no one has emerged.”

He hums in acknowledgment.

“Do you miss them? Your family?” Javi questions quietly.

Sometimes you do miss them, and you truthfully tell him that. But you don’t want to return to your family or your people. Now he again asks about your world, about your family. So you tell him of deep glimmering underwater caverns all across the sea that house your kind. He listens with complete rapture.

“You know,” you add a bit amused. “You’ve handled learning about me and all of this really well.”

Javi snorts.

“Well…my family told me to be respectful of things we don’t understand. There might be some shit out in this world we can’t explain, and that’s okay. We don’t need to argue with it. Instead just maybe gotta learn from it.”

You can sense that in him. He never once seemed afraid of you, instead approached all his questions and curiosity with genuine understanding.

“Besides, I’ve seen crazier shit so this doesn’t really surprise me.” Javier adds with a dry but hollow snort.

That reminds you of what he said before. So you mention it gently.

“You said there are worse things on land than the water, what are they?”

Javier turns to you. His eyes dance in the brilliant sun and they look like brighten earthen soil gems. Yet there’s a wary and weary heaviness in them.

He explains about his old occupation on the surface world, about how he chased after bad men in Columbia. You nod, explaining you’ve heard of that country because of the ports.

“You know where Columbia is?” His eyes go wide.

You teasingly roll your eyes at his surprise. “I do know enough about our worlds Javier.”

He shakes his head. “You continue to surprise me, mi sirena.”

The term, sweetly affectionate, causes something in your gut to flutter.

However, all of that gets quietly put aside as Javier continues his quiet explanation of the shadows and darkness he saw.

You stay silent, letting him explain it all - the horrors of watching men fight over power and money, the corruption, the lives lost, the weight of it all showing him a grim reality that sometimes rears its evil head within humanity. Your eyes even fight back tears.

He’s seen so much, been through so much, and it all hangs on his shoulders.

Without hesitation your hand moves to rest against his. The urge to comfort him is so powerful, and you don’t want to fight it. His eyes now flutter down to your hand where his fingers gingerly begin stroking against your skin.

“Are you ever going back?” You ask softly, worried about him returning to that darkness.

“No. Never going back or doing that type of work again.” He shakes his head.

“Good.” You reply relived.

Javier smiles charmingly bashful, and it’s adorable.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you.” He quickly recovers diverting your attention to something new. Delicately his hand reaches out to your chest and you freeze.

His hands delicately graze against your necklace.

“You wear this all the time. Is it something special?” Always so curious, your land dweller.

“Looks like one of your scales, same color and everything.” He adds.

That’s because it is, and you tell him that.

On the day you became of age, you shed one of the scales on your tail and have it blessed by the sea and moon. The legend has it that the scale is promised to hold one wish. But that was a tale told to you as a child. You simply now understand it’s a mark of passing into maturity. It’s been a constant companion for years ever since.

Javi’s eyebrows raise up in surprise.

“Do you think that legend is true?”

You shrug. “I’ve never known it to be. Always thought it was just fantasy.”

Javier snorts.

“You don’t believe in fantasy?” He questions incredulously.

Playfully you shove his shoulder, and he snickers.

Now a silence settles. The crashing waves become the only noise floating between you and him. Neither his hand or yours leaves the other.

“You said… your family wanted you to be with someone of your kind that you didn’t like…” he now begins cautiously breaking the silence.

“So did that mean there was someone else you cared for?” Javi suggests.

You snort a bit playful, yet answer a quiet no.

“There was a land dweller I had been curious about, but it was just a simple passing fling.” You admit.

“Oh.” Javier answers, but his voice deflates enough you even catch it.

He’s annoyed with that answer.

You’ve been infatuated with other land dwellers before, but it was like seeing the stars above. You admired their beauty from afar and that’s all.

Javier feels like a precious gem discovered from a sunken ship, a treasure you want to keep forever and cherish. He feels rare, so good and in your grasp almost too precious to hoard. Or maybe you just aren’t worthy of him.

You move to hold his hand better.

So you tell him. You’ve never let anyone get this close, never even once spoken to another human.

Yet here you are.

“There’s no one like you. I don't think there will be anyone else like you.” You admit before you can stop the words.

But they are true. No one will ever be like Javier, a man so worn by the world yet still so kind.

His eyes again flicker to yours, and you’re trapped in his gaze. A shift sparks in the air like the way it does before a storm approaches. It tingles against your skin, and something aches in your chest.

His eyes flicker to your lips. Your body shifts closer to him caught in his warmth.

A loud blare of a boat horn comes. Pure fear crashes into you.

Without hesitation Javi practically drapes himself over you. His arms draw around your head like a shield trying to cover most of your body up with his.

His eyes and yours stare to the side worried at what approaches. But thankfully the boat now sounds like it’s reaching shore further away.

The scare felt too real. Worry rages in you wildly. Yet, it’s quickly drowned out by Javier.

He’s close. Javi’s chest is against your side, against your tail. His arms are on either side of your head and he radiates warmth, such a warmth you never knew others could hold. Maybe it’s because he’s a landweller, or you think maybe it’s just because it’s him.

This position is precious even for you. You’ve spotted humans mating on the beach before. You can even admit how curious it’s made you.

Now a raw heat burns through you. Javier sighs, then glances down at you beneath him.

The shadows dance on his face so wonderfully, highlighting his striking nose. You wonder how terribly it would be to slither your arms around him and pull him down to you. Your mouth even waters seeing the sweat on his skin, and you imagine how it must taste mixing with the salt of the water, your home.

It’s simply just you staring up at him, him staring down at you and sound of the waves.

“We…we should head back.” He says clearing his throat.

The entire swim back to the main shoreline is silent, feels like a weight hangs among you and him even when you tell him goodbye.

Later among the solitude of the night and waves, you dream of Javier. But something dangerous sneaks into your fantasies. You fantasize being entangled with him as a human, two legs wrapping around him, getting to know his body against your own. It’s fierce, knocks the wind out of you, but also unleashes a sorrowful ache into you.

You wonder what it would be like as a land dweller because a more clouded doubtful piece of you can’t imagine Javier desiring you now.

Even with the admiration you’ve heard from him, you imagine that a man’s handsome as Javier wouldn’t desire someone like you.

A splash of water hits your face, and the saltwater you notice mixes well with your silent tears.

The next morning when you arrive at your usual spot to meet Javier, a soft pink conch sits on the shoreline and your blood runs cold.

For your people, a conch shell is a way to communicate. They’re used to convey many different messages from marking territories to a warning.

You reassure yourself it simply washed up on the beach as all seashells do. But the way it sits precariously placed scares you overriding any of the anxious energy you had about seeing Javier again.

“Did you…leave this here?” You even ask him about the conch when he arrives.

“Uh, no. But it’s pretty.” He says lifting up the shell to examine it. “Funny enough my Tía collects shells like these so much that my uncle even jokes they could open up a store.”

You weakly smile trying to be amused, but the dread hangs in your stomach.

When Javier leaves, you try gathering your thoughts.

“I take it you saw my message.” The new voice is warm.

Walking down from the other side of the pier, an older woman emerges. Her eyes, wrinkled by the corners, watching you seem kind and streams of gray color her dark hair.

You want to bolt back into the water out of fear, but you’re confused and want to understand more.

“I can see your hesitation, young one.” She says. “My name is Gloria and I’ve been watching you for sometime now.”

Now you’re panicking.

This must be your punishment for growing too close to Javier.

Before you can react the woman reaches at her dress collar and pulls something out.

A necklace with a scale attached to it. Except this scale doesn’t shine with color but instead appears cold, lifeless.

The wind is knocked out of you.

“So you understand now.” Gloria smiles, however there’s a cloudy hesitation forming in her eyes.

This is your warning brought to life. She is the real woman who left the sea, went to land -

And she is alive.

There's so much you want to ask her. Everything feels so overwhelming.

“We don’t have much time to chat.” She gently tells you. “I promise I’ll answer all your questions soon, but you must know…”

A dark gloomy frown falls over her lovely aged face.

“Someone is looking for you.”

You’re a bit confused by her words.

“And I don’t mean your land dweller.” She adds and dread claws into you monstrous.

Someone else. Someone else saw you.

“Javier wouldn’t tell anyone about me.” You fire back, fierce and hurt.

“You need to lie low, stay hidden.” Gloria orders somber and serious. “Maybe even find another place to nest for some time.”

Fear grapples with something fanged inside your heart. You don’t want to leave Javier. You don’t even want to hide from him here, much less leave him.

Gloria must see the conflict on your face, and she sighs. A grandmotherly sadness washes over her.

“I’m sorry, young one.”

You swallow back the tears.

No, this is the truth. Javier was always going to leave back to his hometown eventually. Your time with him was limited, not guaranteed. This is just a reminder of that.

You shove away the tears stinging your eyes and thank Gloria for alerting you.

She grins sad but soft. “I wish you well. Please be safe.”

“Wait.” You call out to her. Even though you still have so many questions, want to ask her so many things, there is only one thing you need to ask before she leaves.

Gloria turns back with a patient look.

“Can you fall in love with a human this quickly?” You try keeping your voice level, but it breaks under the weight of your emotions.

Gloria frowns, heartbroken. Her eyes swim with an ancient understanding crystalline with sadness.

“I fell in love the instant I saw my husband,” she smiles beautifully among the ache. “He rescued me from a fisherman’s net, and I never looked back. I trusted the water and it provided.”

The familiar saying of your kind.

Your blink away tears.

“Then how can I leave him?” You croak back to Gloria.

“You need to so you can keep him and yourself safe,” she answers with the patience of a mother.

A quick desperate thought flashes in your mind. Your hand flies up to clutch the shell hanging from your necklace.

If the children’s stories were true, if you actually had one wish -

Gloria’s eyes go wide, and she inhales fast.

“You make that choice, you can never go back.” She declares sharply.

“Wait, what?” You ask a bit confused.

“You may get your wish, but it will come at a cost.” Gloria tells you dark and somber.

Dread consumes you. So her shell’s discoloration was because she used her wish.

“What’s the cost?” You sob.

“Whatever the sea wishes to take.” Gloria’s answer feels final, a raw cut through your inner most soul.

With one final sad nod, she wishes you well and leaves you alone under the shadow of the pier with your unbearable heartbreak.

“Hey, you alright?” The next morning Javier notices your demeanor.

“Yes, just a bit tired.” You smile false and small.

You don’t know how you’re going to break this to him. You wonder if you simply should just stop showing up, break it off quick and painful but fast. But even then you can’t face that possibility.

“So tonight,” Javi says, trying to brighten the mood. “We’re having this nice dinner at that restaurant further down right on the water.”

“That’s lovely.” You tell him truthfully with a warm soft grin.

His eyes soften, but you avert your gaze, unable to handle the truth barbed in your heart. Then gentle fingers suddenly trace against your face, almost too afraid to fully touch you.

Your look to find Javier’s eyes hazed over staring down at you.

“It’ll be nice to know you might be out there in the waves, mi sirena.” He mutters.

The danger is imminent. You need to leave or simply tell him what’s been going on. But that fear is overshadowed by the unbearable adoration for Javier.

You rationalize that this will be your final glimpse at Javi before you tell him the truth.

So when the night falls you swim low and quietly to the restaurant.

The lights and warmth, the upbeat musical, all radiate from the dock the restaurant sits at the edge of. You’re able to swim around the outdoor area with enough cover.

Gently peeking up from the waves you find the view is clear. A few people sit and stand outside around the edge of the railing thankfully not even glancing out to the ocean.

That’s when you spot him.

Your eyes go wide.

Dressed in a simple white button up, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, Javier is otherworldly.

He’s too handsome for his own good, the surface world’s handcrafted temptation for you. All you can do is sink more into the water hoping the cooling waves bring you back to reality.

He leans on the rail facing the open sea. Those dark eyes of his flicker out and now you realize, he might be searching for you.

Your body moves on its own. Tail swishing, you swim closer to his line of sight gravitating towards him.

But then a shadow of someone approaching comes and you stop. One of the men you remember vaguely appears besides Javier.

“Whatcha looking for, vato?” The young man jokes nudging Javi, but your eyes narrow seeing how annoyed Javier looks.

“Can’t I just enjoy the water, Richie?” Javi jokes.

The man, Richie, is the one you remember staring at you so intently.

“You lookin’ for your sea goddess?” He says loud, mocking.

Javier reacts fast. He snaps turns towards Richie with the quickest speed, and a hard glare transforms his face.

“Why you acting up like that, viejo?” Richie grins antagonist.

“Don’t know what you’re fucking talking about, Ricardo.” Javier snaps low and serious.

“You know exactly what I mean.” Richie growls. “And you and your cousin and Tía y Tío might all think I’m crazy, but I know what I fucking saw that night you went overboard. I saw that fucking creature that saved you.”

Fear bubbles up dizzying.

Richie is the one searching for you.

You can’t move. It’s too much.

Until Javi jolts into action. He grabs Richie by the collar and a deadly darkness falls over his face.

“Enough.” Suddenly Javier’s voice drops.

Then he quickly speaks to Richie so low that even swimming just a bit closer you can’t pick up what Javi says. But it’s spoken deadly enough that when he shoves Richie away, the younger man glares at Javier silently. Then he simply walks away.

Javi defended you. He’s kept you, your secret, safe.

You can’t describe the emotion that cracks your heart open wide. From the waves you stare at him unable to look away as he sighs pinching the bridge of his lovely nose.

You ache to soothe him.

But, someone else seems to as well.

“You look like you could use some company.” A woman, gorgeous and giving Javi a soft smile, moves towards his side.

All that tender adoration dwelling in your heart turns sour when Javier turns to converse with her. He smiles politely and kind.

They lean against the wooden railing, eyes focused on each other and Javi says something to make the mystery woman laugh. His eyes crinkle, the same way they do when he smiles at something you say. Javier gives her his full attention and jealousy strikes its fangs venomous.

But the truth is worse. This is another reminder Javier was never maybe meant to ever be yours.

You jump back into the sea, unfortunately making a splash announcing your departure. But a part of you wants him to hear and know you’re leaving.

Out of habit you arrive at your secluded spot under the pier by the shoreline. Your eyes sting as you squeeze them shut refusing to let yourself cry over this. At least this will help make it easier when you bid him farewell tomorrow. You sit for a moment gathering yourself.

Footsteps rush on the sand, and you panic.

Immediately Javier jogs in from the side, out of breath and already sweaty. He must have ran all the way over here.

“Mi sirena,” he exhales heavy.

You swallow hard.

“I…I didn’t know if you saw…” Javi begins curiously.

You don’t know how to reply, dont even know if you should.

“I…” his voice starts but gets stalled as if he doesn’t know what to say either.

“It’s alright.” You reassure him, graciously thanking him for keeping your secret.

“You should get back to your companion. She’s lovely.” You tell him surprisingly composed.

“You seem upset.” He argues.

You reassure him you’re not.

“No, you’re upset. What’s wrong?” This man, annoyingly stubborn, presses.

You snap back that it's none of his concern.

“Tell me.” His voice takes a sharper turn.

“It’s nothing! Go back to your party, human!” You snap, and the word leaves your mouth sharp.

You’ve never once called him that.

His eyes go wide a bit, like he’s even a bit taken back at what you said. You blink away the tears stunned at your own emotional outburst.

“I’m sorry.” You quickly apologize, already furiously wiping away the tears.

He says your name soft. “You’re crying.”

His footsteps come closer and you snap your face away trying to shove more and more tears.

“What’s wrong?” Javier crouches down to sit besides you on the sand.

“I’m just upset about what I said, that’s all.” You half lie through a broken voice.

“Why won’t you just tell me the truth?” He urges concerned.

Because, you want to tell him, it’s too much to hold.

You feel like you might break.

Suddenly his warm hand gently slides across your cheek. Slowly he tilts your face towards him, and your mind stalls feeling his fingers against you.

In the night air, under the dim shadow of the pier, his eyes seem like the endless sky.

“Dígame, mi sirena.” Talk to me, he says soft and tender.

Your words fail. Instead you feel greedy, desperate. Your hand moves to clutch his hand and lean into his palm while your eyes shut.

The tears come again.

The air feels cold against your skin.

“I don’t want to let you go.” You admit, finally freeing that truth.

“I’m not going anywhere, honey.” Javier softly replies firmly.

That term, you’ve heard it used by other surface dwellers, and you want to sink your teeth into it.

Wearily your eyes open to stare at him once more. Now his eyes seem hazed over and his lips parted open. His lips look so soft while his eyes swim cautiously. You’re worried any moment now he might turn into seafoam before your eyes.

In a blink, Javi surges towards you. Like a fast rip of a wave crashing into you, his lips press to yours.

You’ve never kissed a land dweller. You’ve imagined it a few times, especially now more with Javi in mind. But none of those fantasies do this justice.

He’s so warm, intoxicating like the most dangerous ambrosia. You whimper when his body slides you closer to him. Your hands claw at him more.

You need him closer, want him intertwined with you

Eventually you lean back, until your body rests against the sand, and Javier kisses at you from above. His tongue seeks and licks into you with a melting consuming heat. You moan into his mouth feeling dizzy at how delicious he tastes.

He breaks away first needing air but kisses your jaw, nipping at your skin.

“Wait.” Javi exhales and slowly draws back. Even among the brewing heat, the passion burning through your veins, his eyes are hesitant.

“You okay with this, mi sirena?” He asks, gentle and steady.

This unreal wonderful man. Your hand cups his cheek now letting your thumb stroke against his warm skin.

“It’s you. It’s only ever going to be you.” You whisper.

His eyes widen, letting your words sink in and then he turns to kiss the palm of your hand.

“Are you okay with this?” You now turn the question delicately back to him.

He nods quietly, slowly. Then you watch the way his eyes darken, like storm clouds that create a wonderful whirlwind sweeping you up.

“Then take me.” You mutter drawing him closer to you.

There had been someone, an elder in your kind, who once engaged in passionate matings multiple times with a sailor. She was shunned from your colony for her transgression, but the stories she told became forbidden whispers told among everyone. She swore the mating with her sailor was nothing she ever felt before, how that type of passion was indescribable.

And she was right.

Javier’s body heat burns through you. His tongue and teeth clash, devouring you. His body temperature compared to yours runs warmer, and it’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced. It’s hot, messy and soaks you euphoric. You’re consumed, utterly drunk on this as you beg for him to give you more, give you all of him.

And when he enters you, it’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt. He’s perfect, stretches you incredibly deep and heats you from the inside you never knew was possible. You wonder if this is what the creation felt like, this clash of heat and passion crashing, forming new caverns in your soul.

He kisses every inch of skin he can reach, and you clutch onto him like he’s your lifeline.

Listening to the grunts of Javier’s voice, feeling his body mold into yours, even tasting the salt of his skin, melts you.

You’ve never felt more cherished than when his hands traced over your skin, never felt more ecstasy than when his passion clashes with yours.

There under the shadow of the pier, with the waves crashing onto the shore, you meet orgasmic bliss in his arms.

Eventually, in the afterglow, in the late quiet of the night, his fingers trace across your tail.

“You’re amazing.” He mutters out.

Your fingers trace against his bare forearms.

“I could say the same about you.” You tell him truthfully. All the stories he told you about his time in Columbia, the way he loves his family so fiercely, he’s a rare soul you want to keep forever.

He barks a laugh, hollow and small. “Not compared to you, mi sirena.”

Emotions clog your throat.

“That man…Richie-”

“He won’t find you.” He quickly replies cutting you off sharp and simple, like he won’t even acknowledge the idea.

“But you’re in danger too, Javier.” You urge.

“He’s just a punk ass kid, my baby primo’s best friend. He won’t do shit.” Javi reassures.

Gloria’s warning resurfaces in your thoughts, and you swallow hard. Fear and doubt cloud your thoughts.

“Is this your way of repaying a debt to me?” Before you realize it, the words leave your mouth.

“Wait, what?” He questions.

You sigh, watching the dark waves out at sea.

You’ve always wondered why Javier was so adamant in visiting you, why he’s become so protective.

“I’ve wondered…” your voice trails off distant and small. You tell him the deep worry that’s been brewing.

You’ve wondered if he’s simply here with you, doing all of this, as some means to repay you back from saving his life. That his interest is simply born from a sense of obligation.

Javier says your name, firm and solid.

With a hard frown on his lovely face, he shakes his head.

“At first I just wanted to thank you. But now…now I can’t fucking stop thinking about you. Don’t even wanna think about leaving you.” Javi admits quietly.

Your heart becomes crystalized, heavy and heated from his words.

His gaze returns to your tail, and fingers again reverently stroking against your skin.

“I’ve seen so much shit, been god damn burnt out. Then you reminded me of how fucking beautiful this world is.” Javier adds.

Stories told about the surface dwellers painted them as ruthless, cold, and selfish. But Javier isn’t like that at all. He’s incredibly curious, kind, protective, a bit grumpy at times. And he’s beautiful.

He’s the one who showed you the true beauty of the land above.

You slowly sit up, possessed by a deep emotion surging through you. When you rise, you lean to kiss Javier again. Your land dweller welcomes you with a warm embrace.

A net falling over your face wakes you in a panic.

Your body thrashes up only to find netting all around you. Fear drums loud in your ears.

Being worn out from the night’s escapades with him, you must have fallen asleep on the beach after Javier left.

A loud excited cackle cracks into the air.

“See! I fucking told you that bitch was a mermaid!”

Richie’s voice rings out terrifyingly loud. When your eyes snap up, the young man’s shadow falls above you and he smiles sinisterly. The sun isn’t even fully up, yet you see his face clear as day.

“Man, what the fuck?” Someone sputters, and your eyes flicker to the other individual here. You take it this other young man worried and a bit wide eyed must be Javi’s cousin.

“See! I knew your fucking primo was keeping this thing hidden, Leo!” Richie cries.

The net is grand, doesn’t seem to end as you try scanning around trying to find the edge of it. Your next plan of action will be to scratch your way out of it. You rarely use your claws, but this is dire.

Richie and Javier’s family member continue their frantic discussion in the early morning air.

“What’dya plan to do with her huh?!”

“Imagine the fucking money we’d get!” Richie answers proud.

The two bricker now and you can’t even pay attention to them. Fear poisons you fast, and you’re getting frantic. It’s now or never.

Once you feel your nails grow into claws deadly and sharp, you start tearing your way through the net mesh.

A strange clicking sound comes, and a loud gasp follows.

“Richie, what the fuck?!” Javier’s cousin, Leo, sounds petrified.

You still, turning your gaze to the source of the sound and find something pointed at you from above.

You’ve never seen one up close, but you’ve heard of these weapons, know of them and their instant death -

A gun.

“You brought your dad’s fuckin’ gun?!” Leo shouts.

“Didn’t know what we’d expect.” Richie sneers, but keeps his gaze on you.

“You try escaping and I’ll blow your fucking head off.” He tells you, and terror sickens your stomach.

You can’t even jump in the water. The net is so large and you’re so tangled in it.

“What the fuck is going on?” Javi. His voice comes in a breeze of salvation.

Your land dweller emerges from the side of the pier, and his face falls at the sight.

Hope tumbles in dizzying fast but collides with fright. Especially when Richie jumps at Javi’s entrance and swings to point the gun at him.

Leo yells loud in protest while Javi holds his hands up defensive but stays composed.

“I knew you were keeping this freak all to yourself. What? Didn’t want me finding it?” Richie spits.

Javi’s eyes flicker to yours for a split second. You lock onto his dark gaze and swear you can hear what he’s trying to silently communicate.

“What do you plan to do, huh?” Javier turns his attention back to Richie. “Manage to get her onto land and then what? What do you plan to do after that?” Javi’s voice is steady, an unwavering lighthouse among the storm.

He’s diverting attention onto him. Especially with how furiously Richie begins yelling at him not even noticing you.

“Man Richie, just put the gun down.” Leo urges.

You scramble back to the net, freshly grown claws at the ready and try cutting through the thick mesh. You need to focus, but your hands keep slipping out of terror especially hearing how loud they all scream now.

Continuing to cut, focusing with all your might, thankfully you start slicing through the threads.

“Hey, what the fuck are you doing?!” Richie yells.

Then instantly a loud bang comes.

A scream escapes you with how loud the sound comes. Then a sharp pain jolts through you like getting stung by a stingray, but intensified. Your tail feels like it’s on fire and you cry out.

You snap your eyes down. Whatever the gun fired off just grazed you, but blood begins spilling crimson over your scales and into the water.

Then commotion erupts. It’s a scuffle and soon enough Javi moves to tackle Richie.

But another loud loud bang rings out.

It happens fast. In a blink Javi rushes against Richie. Then the next he’s crumbling down onto the sand. Blood spreads soaking into Javi’s shirt and another scream rips out of you.

Something raw and monstrous, like a red haze, clouds you. You fully rip through the net and out of meshing. The most inhuman scream comes. You don’t realize it’s you screaming until your claws swipe at Richie’s legs with vicious intent.

You slice and slice not even caring blood leaks onto your hands, or that Richie cries out horrified falling onto the sand. Leo sees the opportunity, jumps in and tackles him fully, knocking the gun away.

Your hands shake, but you scramble around looking for Javi.

Your land dweller manages to drag himself closer to you, but the bleeding is getting worse. Color drains from his beautiful face. You don’t even care how much your tail stings. You pull yourself onto the sand towards Javier until you move to draw him into your arms.

The tears fall fast and uncontrollable.

“No tears, mi sirena.” He wheezes with a soft sight. “It’s alright.”

You cradle him in your arms, burrowing your head into his hair as you cry.

You have to save him.

Then it hits you. You have one last thing, one last hope.

You shift with shakily hands and rip your necklace off.

He mumbles your name while you shift him in your arms. Javi must spot the necklace because he again says your name curiously.

“Wait… What are you doing?” He presses harder but his voice grows hoarse.

Please, you whisper in your heart as the tears roll down your face, please save him, take whatever you need.

You place the necklace against his wound. Javi’s voice calling to you comes quickly, but then - your world goes dark.

Waking up, an unfamiliar sensation surrounds you. You’re warm, bundled in something soft and unfamiliar.

Snapping your eyes open you discover you’re in a new place. It’s a space inside a cozy land dweller home. The walls are a soft sunset color and so many sells decorate the area. A mess of emotions overwhelms you and you scramble to move.

That’s when someone rushes to your side.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Javi.

He kneels down beside you and your eyes cloud with tears fast.

“You’re alright.” You sob out.

Javier’s earth eyes glisten watery and he nods, grabbing your hand to kiss your palm.

It worked. The wish worked.

You now wonder what the ocean took, what price did you pay. Until you notice…your lower body doesn’t feel the same. The sensation where your tail should be feels different. Legs, surface dweller legs, shift under the covers.

You sharply inhale as the thought hits you.

Tail no more, you’re human.

“Honey.” Javi begins cautiously. “I’m sorry. It happened right after you saved me and-”

You jump to embrace him, truly hold him. You reassure him there’s nothing to be sorry for.

He pulls you into his arms and squeezes you tight while kissing the side of your head fiercely. You don’t know how long you stay holding him, but eventually you ask about what happened.

Javi and his cousin, Leo, managed to subdue Richie as more people heard the ruckus in the early morning. They kept him controlled until law enforcement showed up. After that, you were taken to Javier’s family residence where you’re been resting ever since.

“Is he going to come back?” You ask a bit worriedly, clutching his hand. Javi’s free warm hand moves to stroke your face.

“No mi sirena, he won’t hurt us again.” He promises true and unwavering.

“Is she up?” A new excited voice comes in, interrupting your moment with Javier.

“Pop.” Javi sighs exasperated, almost embarrassed, but the door opens quickly.

The man in a cream colored hat comes in and you recognize him as Javi’s father. His eyes, gentle and warm, crinkle as they take you in.

“What?” He jokes to his son. “You won’t let me see the ángel who saved my son twice?”

His name is Chucho and he’s a dazzling ray of sincerity. Pure sunshine, he hugs you tight, thanking you in a watery voice.

Realizing what he said, something in you pauses worried for a moment. Javier must have told him who you are, or who you were now.

“Don’t worry,” Chucho reassures you with the same steadfast tenderness his son holds. “Your secret is safe with us. Afterall, you won’t be the only one in the family now.”

He winks at you, however a bit of confusion bubbles up.

“Aye Chucho, let her be.” The familiar voice startles you.

Gloria with her lovely aged face wanders in and a handsome older man follows right behind her. He must be the husband she spoke of. His resemblance to Chucho sits in the familiar grin. Gloria’s smile is soft, faintly sad, but understanding.

“Didn’t think I’d see you again this way, young one.” She nods.

“Found out you and my Tía Gloria met,” Javi mutters amused and your mind trips over itself.

The woman who traded her life in the sea for the land…

She’s Javier’s aunt.

For some reason that comforts you, and you laugh watery while she moves to embrace you as well.

Eventually you get to rest more among the soft covers and in Javier’s arms.

“A bit late to ask but,” Javi begins with a dry snort. “You regret it?”

You shake your head no, telling him you never will. It’s a choice you would make in every lifetime. He pulls you closer into his arms kissing the top of your head.

Eventually he slowly falls asleep, and you’re lulled into a peaceful serenity.

Where you rest gives you a clear open view of the sea just beyond your reach. Javi’s soft snorts mix with the soft breeze of the waves crashing faintly outside.

Your people were right. The water does provide. Because as Javier shifts in his sleep, almost nuzzling into you more, you realize the sea brought you to a treasure you can’t find among the waves.

The sunlight dancing on the ocean waves feels like both a twinkling goodbye and a wave hello to this new world of yours.

#I’ve never done mermay so here’s to embracing the magic and getting our dream love with Javi #also if you read me and all the mermaids and Javi P love you #Javier Peña x reader #Javier peña x mermaid!reader #Javier Peña x f!reader #javi p x reader #javier pena x reader #Javi P 🤎#pedrostories

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