#the reflection on the wet sand?!?

[teddy-bear-naps-and-random-snaps]

[gigivas]

1K GIGI Prompts Collections 'Serene Sunset: Beach, Pier, and Reflections' 5982 Free 10 pages out of 1000 pages

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[science-hoes]

Safe & Sound

Jack Abbot x Reader

Warnings: PTSD, panic attack, hallucinations, graphic descriptions

Description: A stormy night in Pittsburgh causes Jack Abbot to fall into a PTSD-induced psychosis episode, and the reader does everything in her power to bring him back.

Jack Abbot Masterlist

——

The night shift was slow in the Pitt (but you didn’t dare mention it aloud). Aside from traumas coming in by ambulance, there weren’t many patients in Chairs. Nobody wanted to go out in the severe weather that night. The winds howled against the building, creating ghostly whispers with the rain that slapped concrete.

You were fascinated by the unusual weather. Usually, if it stormed at all, it was quick with little fanfare. But the system moving across Pennsylvania tonight had every local news station showcasing their meteorologists like it was coverage for the Olympics. In fact, that’s what the TVs in Chairs had on constant loop since you arrived for your shift.

Gloria had reminded everyone at shift change of the protocols in case of severe weather, usually reserved for blizzards. Backup generators, spare on-call rooms, yada yada yada.

But the storm outside was majestic. So dangerous yet so powerful. Something about it intrigued your deepest curiosity. You could only see the flashes of lightning from the exit to the ambulance bay, but the growling thunder supplied a nonstop soundtrack for your shift.

“We’ve got a high school basketball player coming in via ambulance after passing out during a game. He’s conscious again after some IV fluids but still needs some electrolyte labs and monitoring. About five minutes out.” The charge nurse snapped you out of your daydreaming.

You quickly sat up and nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll head on out there.” You replied.

The nurse raised an eyebrow. “You mean in that hurricane?” She questioned.

You shrugged, standing up from your desk. “I’ll stay under the bay. Don’t want them to get lost in all this rain.” You joked.

The doors to the ambulance bay glided open as you approached them. You snatched a sterile gown and tied it loosely around your waist. Finally, you were able to stand outside and watch the storm. The sky lit up with magnificent cracks of lightning followed by rolling thunder, and the rain was thick enough to blur the bar across the street, only its neon “OPEN” sign visible.

You heard the automatic whirring of the doors behind you, along with wet footsteps trudging through the tiny river formed by the slope of the bay combined with heavy rain. “You’re gonna catch a cold if you wait out here.” The voice warned.

You peaked over your shoulder to see Jack Abbot wrapping a sterile gown around his waist to match yours. You rolled your eyes. “Thanks for the advice, grandpa.” You teased.

Jack scoffed, coming forward to stand beside you. He assumed his usual soldier stance, broad chest puffed out, arms crossed behind his back, head held high. “I’m not old enough to be a grandpa.” He defended.

You smirked, admiring the way the lightning in the sky reflected off his silver curls. “You look like you are though.”

Another look of disbelief washed over his face, his mouth agape at your audacity and those whiskey eyes rolling back. You couldn’t tell if he was seriously offended or not. “I look exactly my age.” He said.

“Which is…?”

“Classified.”

You giggled, and he couldn’t help but smile as his eyes remained fixed on the path to the ambulance bay. The red lights of the rig danced off the pools of rain in the street as it approached. The sirens were nearly masked by the looming thunder. Suddenly, the wind picked up, blowing the rain horizontally. You screeched as the freezing water drenched you head to toe in a matter of seconds, but laughed at the cathartic feeling. Jack held his hands over his forehead, trying to shield his eyes, a practiced maneuver he learned for billowing sand instead of water.

“It’s just some water, you won’t melt!” He called out to you, his voice fighting to be heard against the gusts of wind.

You flashed a grin at him and hurried over to the ambulance as it rolled under the cover. “Come on, old man!” You yelled back.

The EMTs hopped out and pulled the gurney out of the back, trying to work quickly in the rain. Within seconds, it was clear that speed had no benefit in the situation. Every single person, including the young patient, were soaked from the monsoon.

As you introduced yourself to the basketball player, a flash of lightning, more brilliant than the others, nearly blinded you. The ensuing sound wasn’t like the rumbling thunder that had plagued the night, but more of a deafening crackle. After you regained your senses from the sensory overload, you could see the flag pole sizzling, burning hot at the top.

“Holy shit!” You screamed, standing straight after realizing your body naturally cowered to the ground in response.

The rain had plastered your hair to your face, obstructing your view, so your hands gripped onto the metal rail of the gurney as you helped push it inside. “Let’s go!” You screamed, leading the way to the automatic doors.

Once you were out of the rain, you swiped the hair over your forehead and gave a smile to your patient. “Sorry about that!” You said. “We don’t usually waterboard our patients before treating them.” You teased.

The kid laughed and wiped the water off his face. “It actually felt pretty good. I was really hot.” He replied, but you noticed the shivers hitting his body from the cold air of the Pitt.

You pushed the gurney with the EMTs into Central Three at the instruction of the charge nurse. “Are you cold, baby?” You asked the patient, using the same term of endearment that you used with all pediatric patients.

He nodded. “Yeah, just a little.” He underplayed, his teeth involuntarily chattering.

You tilted your head to the outside of the room. “I’ll go get you a warm blanket.” You offered.

The rest of the team began to help the kid move to the hospital bed, and you began your journey to the linens closet. You turned the corner to the secluded room in the corner, a bit inconvenient when every room had to have new sheets after every patient.

The scanner beeped at the proximity of your badge when you pulled it from its reel, and the lock illuminated green to grant you access. You opened the door and stepped in, making a beeline for the coarse, white blankets.

But you heard breathing. Loud breathing. Fast breathing. In the darkness, only illuminated by a distant fluorescent light, you spotted a body slumped in the corner of the room. When you stepped forward, the squeak of your Hokas on the wet floor alerted him. His head snapped up.

You saw a ghost. Pale, clammy skin. Eyes blown wide. Breathing anything but normal. But you recognized the reflection of the silver hair in the light.

“Doctor Abbot?” You called his name, unsure if the apparition was truly your stoic attending.

His breathing was staggered but quick. Too quick. “I think I was hit.” He grunted.

You noticed his hands putting pressure on his abdomen. You ran to his side and placed your hands over his, still beaded with raindrops. “Let me see.” You ordered. “From the rig?”

His hands only pressed down harder, refusing to let you move them away from his injury. “No, no. It needs pressure.”

“Doctor Abbot, please move your hands so I can help you.” You demanded, your tone hardening.

He shook his head, grunting through pain, sweat and rain dripping from his forehead. You grabbed his wrists, trying to pry them, but your strength was nothing compared to his. “I can’t. I can’t.” He mumbled over and over.

You finally grabbed his face, squeezing firmly on either stubbled cheek. “Jack. Look at me. I need you to listen to me. I’m going to help you.” You said. “But you have to let me.”

Jack’s bronze eyes focused on yours, looking for any signs of danger, any signs of an enemy. Finally, he reached up with one hand to your wrist and pulled it down to where his other clutched his abdomen. You peeled the damp black shirt up, revealing rippled muscles and stainless steel dog tags hanging around his neck. In another situation, you would have spent an eternity trying to memorize each toned crease of his upper body.

He hissed at the air exposure, throat flexing his Adam’s apple to hold in yelps of pain. But the further you went up, the more you realized what was going on. He had been putting pressure on a deep, ragged scar. One that was no longer pink but beginning to blend into its surroundings, stretched like a lightning bolt across his skin, twisting and turning, mirroring the ones in the night sky. The pads of your fingers brushed against the slightly raised marks, and Jack let out a strangled cry of pain.

“Jack.” You breathed.

But he wouldn’t look at you. His chest heaved, and you knew he was going to get dizzy from hyperventilating. He clutched the dog tags around his neck.

“My name is Lieutenant Colonel Jackson Abbot. I was with the-“ he cut himself off at another wave of pain. “O Neg. I’m…I’m O Neg.”

“Jack. Baby, look at me.” You tried the term of endearment like you did with pediatric patients, just like you did with the patient back in Central Two.

No change. The sounds leaving his lips were desperate and frightened. Finally, you grabbed his face again, forcing him to look in your eyes. You could see that he was far, far away. Not in this place. Not in this time. A psychosis episode.

“I saw…I saw Simmons. He got hit in the neck, and…” He trembled, voice cracking like a teenage boy’s.

“No, Jack. No. You’re here with me. We are in Pittsburgh. We’re at work.” But your words fell on his deaf ears.

You felt powerless in that moment as well. You were an emergency room resident for fuck’s sake, but you had never seen a PTSD-induced psychosis episode, not like this. Standard protocol would’ve been an injection of haloperidol to reduce hallucinations and alleviate his agitation. To sedate him. But that would draw administrative attention to Jack, and something deep in your chest told you to keep this as private as possible.

Without wasting another second, you took in a deep breath to your chest, expanded your soft palette, and began to sing.

Just close your eyes

The sun is doing down

You brushed your thumb up and down his grizzled cheek in the same tempo as your words. Jack didn’t react to the touch, but his eyes fixated on your mouth as your lips moved.

You’ll be alright

No one can hurt you now

Your other hand came to rest on his bare chest, over his heart, icy hands sending a shiver across his warm skin.

Come morning light

You and I’ll be safe

And

Sound

Your soft mezzo voice drifted away in the silence of the room. Jack’s breaths had more depth now, more consistency. His glassy eyes reminded you of a recently passed patient, devoid of life and emotion. But he wasn’t hyperventilating anymore.

Just when you thought he might be coming back to your reality, he reached into the pocket of his cargo pants. With tears in his eyes, a new addition to his wrecked appearance, he handed you a concealed pocket knife. “I need to to stab me in the foot.” He whispered in between pained grunts.

You shook your head, pushing his hand away. “Jack, I told you. Listen to me. You are in Pittsburgh, and-“

“I know where I fucking am!” He cut you off through clenched teeth, threatening to crack at the sheer force. “I have a prosthetic right foot, and I need you to stab it like it’s a fucking snake. I need to see you do it.”

The desperation in his voice was unsettling as he shoved his pocket knife back to your grasp. You hesitated for a moment, but his next cry of pain spurred you into action. You took the knife from his hand, brushing your fingers against his rough knuckles, and switched the blade out of its safety position.

“Right foot.” You said aloud as your oriented yourself to make sure you didn’t slice the wrong foot.

You reached for the hem of his right pant leg to expose his leg, but Jack jerked back. “No!” He snapped. “It doesn’t work if you do that. Just stab my foot.”

What a fucking crazy situation. His chest heaved, dog tags glistening in the dim fluorescent light. The look in his eyes would haunt your dreams forever. The pain, the desperation, the helplessness.

Finally, you drew your arm up and came down with a searing force, the blade slicing through his shoe and coming to an abrupt halt as it met the titanium inside.

Jack let out a groan that you could only describe as orgasmic, the tension in his body dissipating. Your hand trembled as it let go of the pocket knife, stuck in his foot like an axe in a tree. Just like he said, it was a prosthetic. No blood, no additional yelps of pain.

Tears fell down your cheeks, and you took in a deep breath that you had been depriving yourself of. Then another. And another. And before you knew it, you were crying in full force.

Jack stared at you through heavily hooded eyes for a few moments, but then he reached out a shaking hand. “Come here.” He breathed. “Please.”

Wordlessly, you accepted his offer. He wrapped his arm tightly around you, concealing you against his warm body. For the first time since you entered the room, you realized how cold you were from your soaked scrubs and cold hospital air. One of your arms wrapped around his back, and the other rested on his shoulder. The hot tears from your face began to roll his chest, a sensation that helped ground him further.

When your own cries began to wane, Jack grasped your hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry I made you do that.” He whispered, pulling your knuckles to his lips.

Your eyes remained fixed on his foot, pocket knife sticking out. A sight you had seen in many other patients before for one reason or another. But not like this. Usually in a real foot.

You had heard about stories like this before. Amputees needing mirror therapy or acupuncture to get rid of phantom pain. Once before, an old attending of yours from med school told a story about a veteran who needed his prosthesis stabbed to confirm that it wasn’t real, that he couldn’t feel the pain.

Jack shifted, reaching for his right pant leg, and pulled up. You moved out of his embrace, away from him. He froze, eyes fixed on you like a hawk.

“Please.” He whispered, with a desperation that differed from his tone earlier. “Don’t leave.”

Your eyes met his, and it was a new vulnerability that you had never seen before. Like he was scared. Not psychosis-induced.

“I’m not going to leave you alone.” You promised, and moved back to the opposite end of him, settling on your knees at his feet. “Can I help you?” Your fingers brushed at the hem of his cargo pants.

Jack let out an exhale of relief and slumped against the wall again, tension leaving his shoulders. His silence was confirmation. Slowly, you rolled the wet fabric up, up, up. Until metal ended and his skin began, around his knee. There was an obvious strap that kept the prosthesis in place, and you tugged it loose. Carefully, you removed the artificial limb, and he let out a slow exhale as the pressure changed.

You realized that most of the prosthesis was a socket for his shin, that his amputation was below the midline of his tibia. He absentmindedly reached for the prosthesis, and you handed it to him so he could set it aside. Your hands hovered over the newly exposed skin.

“Does it hurt?” You asked.

Jack sighed. “Just aching. It always aches.” He mumbled.

Your eyes flicked up to meet his. “Can I…?”

A question you couldn’t finish. You didn’t know how. It felt weird to ask. Bordering inappropriate or offensive. But still he nodded, knowing the end to your intimate request.

Your fingers slid against his skin, pushing deeper and deeper. Massaging the truncated muscles. Kneading against the scar line from the closure. The tiniest sounds of relief fell from his lips, and if you had listened closely enough, not as focused on helping him feel better, you would have heard your name involuntarily falling from his lips like a prayer.

“Am I hurting you?” You asked, unable to decipher his sounds of pain from pleasure.

Jack shook his head, swallowing hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “No.” His voice was hoarse. “No, it feels…”

He wanted to say ‘good.’ But the truth was that it didn’t. It still hurt. Still ached. But not as intensely. You were numbing him. Distracting him. Pushing the pain into different areas to give the hotspots a break.

“I was discharged six years ago…” He breathed.

You shook your head. “No. You don’t have to explain.”

“We were away from camp. Routine checks in the field. Then, an IED…” He swallowed hard. “I didn’t know what had happened at first. I didn’t have a seatbelt, so I was thrown from the Jeep. Simmons was, too. The rest of them…they burned.”

You had halted your soothing hand motions unconsciously, listening to every word, every breath like your life depended on it.

“Simmons had shrapnel to the neck. Carotid was lacerated.” His voice began to shake again. “I was the only survivor.”

The silence that followed was heavy. Jack didn’t look at you, just stared up at the ceiling, trying to forget the memories he recited to you. His hand traced over the wretched scar that slithered across his abdomen, his fingertips brushing against the uneven skin.

“I heard an explosion tonight, and…I was there again. In the sand. Bleeding out.”

The confirmation to your diagnosis. PTSD-induced psychosis. In that moment, you were grateful you hadn’t gone to get help. You weren’t equipped to handle the situation yourself, but…

“And you brought me back.” His voice cut through your thoughts. “With that siren call.”

Jack had that half smile on his face, the one you had seen only a handful of times when he thought you weren’t looking after he’d whispered praise for a risky procedure. Your heart skipped a beat, but you matched his smile sincerely.

“Music makes new paths in the brain. I thought I could reach you that way.” You explained.

His lips pulled up until his smile was complete this time. “Like a fucking angel.” He mused. “Grabbing my deformed ass from hell.”

The compliment seeped into your chest, and you knew he could see your blush in the low light. In a surge of bravery, you leaned down until your lips brushed again his knee, searing a kiss against the skin. Then another, a little lower on his shin. Another below that. And one more on the ridged scar.

His breath shuddered at the foreign contact, and you felt him shift under your touch. Your name passed his lips, louder this time, in the same cadence of his prayer from earlier. Your doe eyes locked on his as you pressed a final kiss on his scar.

“You are not deformed.” You scolded, rubbing a hand up his shin. “You’re perfect.”

—

A/N: Thank you for reading!! This will probably end up being a two-part fic with the second part being more focused on the reader reminding Jack how beautiful his body still is, if you know what I mean 🤭😮‍💨

[urcoolgf]

BEACH DAY

pairing. bf¡rafe && reader

content. fluff

summary. you && rafe take a day trip to his favorite beach, && you have an unexpected visitor…

“baby we gotta go! c’mon,” rafe quickly called to you from your shared bedroom. he had been waiting for you to finish getting ready for the past 20 minutes, and he was starting to get impatient.

“hold on, i’m almost done!,” you answered back.

“jesus it’s just the beach—no makeup, no doing the hair—just a swimsuit,” he whispered to himself. as he put the last of his own things into your bag that sat on the bed.

“okay, sorry, sorry! i’m done,” you rushed out of the bathroom with your hairbrush, hair clip, some hair ties, your favorite sunscreen, and some other things rafe couldn’t identify crammed in your hands.

“baby, it’s just the beach, we’ll be back tonight. do you really need all that?”

“yes! because once my hair gets wet i’ll have to redo it, and i need my stuff! so, unless you wanna look like you’re dating a lion, i suggest you don’t complain,” you replied while shoving your things into the same bag on the bed.

“alright, alright! bring your stuff, but we gotta go,” rafe laughed while picking up the bag that had gained about 5 pounds after dumping your things into it.

the two of you made your way out to his jeep—he had already taken the roof and doors off in preparation for your beach day, which only made you more excited. after you hopped into the passenger seat, rafe placed the bag on your lap so that nothing would fall out on the ride there.

“got it sweetheart?,” he asked, his smirk still made your knees go weak even after all this time, and even if you’re sitting. once he got into the driver’s seat and started the car, he immediately handed you the aux cord because he knew you loved picking music—especially during the summer. so, naturally you click over to your summer playlist and hit shuffle; Dreams by Fleetwood Mac begins to blast through the speakers and out into the hot air.

as you’re singing your heart out on the drive to the beach, rafe can’t help but steal glances at you—completely at peace, in your most natural and beautiful state, totally comfortable in the passenger seat of his car—he loved you like this. his fingers tapped against the wheel to the familiar beat, it was one of your favorites, so of course, rafe knew it by heart.

many upbeat songs later, you arrived at rafe’s favorite beach. this one was never really crowded, and had perfect clear water, and beautiful clean sand. he suspected this was because it was hidden.

“um… pretty sure this isn’t the beach, rafe,” you say as you stare at the forest on the other side of the windshield.

“just trust me, yeah?,” he smiled, turning off the car, getting out, and moving towards your side to help you out. once you were both out of the car, and rafe had taken the bag from you because of course he wouldn’t let you carry it, you began to follow him through the wooded area. there was a faint path, but rafe still had to clear some branches for you first.

once you made it to the edge of the woods, the bright blue water was revealed, and the sun’s reflection off the sand almost blinded you.

“rafe… this is beautiful! where has this place been my whole life?,” you said running out into the warm sand.

“where is everyone?,” you ask, almost excitedly.

“no one really knows about this place—that’s what makes it so special,” he smiled at you. and you just couldn’t help but run over to him as he placed the bag on the sand and unexpectedly jump into his arms. he caught you anyways, hands under your legs that wrapped around him as you grabbed the sides of his face and pulled him into a sweet kiss. once you pulled away, you put your arms around his neck and held him tight, nestling your head into the crook of his neck.

“it’s perfect, baby,” you whispered against his neck, your hot breath driving rafe crazy. he placed you down softly, and with a quick kiss on your forehead you were ready to get into the ocean. you quickly took off your shorts and baby tee that covered your bikini while rafe just stared—eyes moving from your face, down your body, and back to your face.

“what? something on my face?,” you asked, running your hands over your cheeks and lips.

“no. jus’ love you,” he replied with a soft, almost shy, smile. he then pulled his shirt over his head, revealing his toned chest you would never really get used to seeing. the faint ab lines that adorned his stomach, and soft biceps had you practically drooling—no matter how many times you had seen it before—thankfully, he wasn’t paying attention to where your gaze was falling. rafe grabbed his phone and speaker, putting your summer playlist on shuffle—it made your heart melt.

“you have my playlist saved?,” you asked softly.

“‘course i do, baby. wouldn’t be a beach trip without it, hm?,”

I Will Wait by Mumford & Sons begins blasting through the speaker as rafe tosses his phone onto the towels he had set up, and you swear you’ve never been happier than in this exact moment.

you begin running towards the water—and even though you got a head start—rafe catches up to you and picks you and tosses your torso over his shoulder, carrying you into the warm water as you’re squealing for him to put you down.

“it’s not even cold, sweetheart! feels nice doesn’t it?,” he said, finally releasing you into the gravity of the water.

“feels perfect. i love you, rafe cameron,” you say quietly, grabbing back onto his shoulders for support and intimacy, one could argue.

“i love you more, baby,” he pulls you in and kisses you—it’s intoxicating and you can feel the world around you stop.

—

you had been tanning for awhile now—rafe reading some book he brought with him—when suddenly, you feel a softness against your leg. startled, you quickly move your leg away and look back.

“oh my gosh! rafe, it’s a kitty!,” you said excitedly, while moving to sit up. rafe looks up to see your eyes widen and a big smile appear on your face.

“would you look at that? hey, little buddy,” he said as you began petting the cat’s soft fur. no tag, no owner? you thought as rafe moved onto your towel, reaching his hand out gently for the cat to smell.

“you think he’s a stray?,” you ask, concerned—but rafe can tell you’re secretly hopeful he is.

“maybe? i mean… he’s got no collar,” he answered hesitantly, knowing where this was going.

—

as rafe drove you both back home from the beach after watching the sunset, the bag that sat in your lap on the way there had been discarded to the floor and replaced with the small animal.

Love Grows by Edison Lighthouse playing softly through the stereo as you gently pet the sleeping kitty.

“so what should we name him?,” you turned toward rafe with a big smile on your face as he shook his head with a smirk.

“i cannot believe i let you talk me into keeping him…”

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[rin-eko]

Tiny Scales ~ Rafayel x Reader

He’s never been more in love with, or more grateful to you, who is his soulmate. You, who has brought the future of Lemuria into the world.

Content: softness, pregnancy, childbirth in the ocean, non-canon mermaid depictions and biology

WC: 1.6k

Rafayel knows the due date is near. Knows that soon the oceans will be bustling and the waves will spread in welcome to the new heir of the seas.

He can see it. Sense it. He can practically taste it. In the same way he can sense turbulence amongst the choppy waters of the deep sea and taste the salt in the air.

And of course, it is also made obvious in your actions. You don’t notice all the changes happening within you and your subconscious, but he does, and he’s never felt more tender, more protective.

He sees how you want to be alone more often, just like a Lemurian female, often finding you nestled in the corner of your plush, shared bed, fast asleep and cradling your belly for long hours of the day.

Or sitting just at the edge of the private beach outside your home, right where the water meets the sand, knees tucked to your chest as you let the waves kiss your feet and wet your hem, something within you viscerally needing the ocean close in the same way he does.

He sees your enamoured exasperation when you rub your round belly that’s grown heavy and uncomfortable to carry. Notices how in some moments you crave him in ways you can’t help or explain, wrapping your arms tightly around him from behind, nuzzling your face into his back, wanting to crawl beneath his skin so much you’ll huff a sound of helpless frustration, quickly unbuttoning his shirt so you can press your face to his bare skin. His chest, his shoulder blades, his neck.

Throughout your entire pregnancy, you and Rafayel rarely leave the house. Before the small life had begun to grow inside you, you had thought you and Rafayel couldn’t possibly be any closer. You knew everything about each other, did everything together, your lives entwined so completely you could understand each other without words, could feel each other even when apart.

But during your pregnancy, when the two of you literally spent every minute of each day with each other within the safe bubble of your home, your relationship had once again transformed, morphing into something so deep, so infinite and everlasting you couldn’t tell where you ended and he began, where or even if there was any separation of your lives anymore. You felt the air he breathed passing through your lungs, could feel the surrounding world through him and the little one nurtured within you.

As for Rafayel, you had never seen him more relaxed. He had forgone cutting his hair, instead letting it grow, the soft purple ends sweeping down his delicate, pale neck and grazing his shoulders. More often than not he forewent shoes and shirts, and almost always denied invitations or interviews from the world outside your bubble.

He devoted all his time to you and the child safely tucked in your womb, painting countless images of your pregnancy. You sleeping on the couch, one hand on your belly, your hair a mess around you. You standing in the soft morning light of the kitchen. You on the beach, wearing a thin nightgown and facing the silvery moon which casted mesmerising reflections along the inky water. The two of you lazed in bed during those months, rising when your bodies willed, lulling back into a deep slumber in the same way the tides ebbed and flowed.

Ten months. A little longer than a regular human pregnancy. Different from a regular Lemurian pregnancy, too. You weren’t laying eggs. The baby was alive within you, little movements tickling Rafayel’s nose when he spoke to your belly in the dim light of the midnight moon, the soothing sound of waves crashing outside.

“I can’t wait to meet you, my little love,” he would speak quietly in his ancient native language, pink lips softly forming beautiful words. He pressed his lips to your bare stomach and you stroked through his velvety hair in response, your thumb rubbing lightly just below his ear where small pearlescent half-circles could be seen. As your hormones changed and strengthened throughout the pregnancy, his instincts had responded keenly, and oftentimes his scales would erupt on subtle parts of his body before he could help it. You loved kissing those smooth patches, licking them, nuzzling them. You wondered if your child would have them, too. If they would take after their father’s kind or yours. Not that it mattered, the love you both felt for the child could surely sink through your skin and reach them, wrapping them safely.

And when Rafayel wakes after a little more than ten months to find the space beside him in bed empty and cold, he somehow knows.

He doesn’t bother checking for you in the house, walking straight to the beach outside where the sky is a light purple still glittered with stars. He stops at the top of the sand, the breeze whispering through his hair as he stares at the back of the figure swaying waist-high in the currents. Your body, your instincts, perhaps heightened by the Lemurian DNA inside you, have told you that this is the place and this is the time.

Rafayel is shirtless, the light material of his loose white pants sticking to his ankles as he walks into the water, to his calves, his thighs, his hips, right behind you. The waves welcome him in their embrace, acknowledging their god, and soon, the heir to them.

His arms wrap around you from behind and his eyes glow a bright blue-purple, everything within him vibrating as his mate lets out a small moan and leans back against him.

“Beloved, are you in pain?” he speaks right by your ear. His thumb strokes your swollen belly over your thin white dress. The gentle ocean swells pass by the two of you.

You make a small sound that says you are and hold the large hand resting on your stomach tighter, trying to concentrate on the first sliver of the sun’s light casting a tiny glow of yellow on the horizon ahead.

Your neck turns to nuzzle the size of your face against his bare chest, moaning lightly. He ducks his head down. You’re panting a little. “Raf… Rafayel… If this baby takes after you, I will be so happy.”

He kisses your temple, smells your hair and the ocean. “My love, you and this baby are my entire world.” There is nothing more important. Nothing more precious.

And as the first rays of sunlight warm the sand and cause the sea to glimmer like a thousand jewels, a little princess is born. Rafayel holds you throughout, letting you squeeze his hand as tightly as you need, cupping water in his palm to cool your sweating hairline. He rubs your dry lips and silently commands the waves to embrace you carefully, comfortably.

One last whimper and push from you and he feels your taut body sag back against his chest. Throughout the process, silvery-blue scales have emerged on his skin, below his eyes, at the column of his throat, along his forearms and ribs. Whenever he sees you in pain, and also, from his own excitement. And now, he sees a flicker of the same colour quickly splash the surface of the water before sinking a little beneath.

Still holding you securely with one strong arm, the other darts beneath the water, scooping something small and soft and smooth up in the other arm.

You’re both breathless as you stare at the amazing, beautiful creature. So small, with scales a shade lighter than Rafayel’s. So small that its head can fit on Rafayel’s palm. It looks half asleep and droopy, with little saliva bubbles gurgling from its mouth.

And the tiniest, cutest little mermaid tail you have ever seen, the end wrapped lightly around Rafayel’s forearms, the fluke of the tail wriggling slightly.

As if by pure instinct, Rafayel’s own tail stretches out, scales fluttering up his sides, gills emerging by his ears. He brings the baby to your chest for you to hold and you cradle her warmly as Rafayel carries you both deeper so his tail can comfortably stretch out without touching the sand below. He keeps you both afloat like that for a long while, the both of you just staring in awe at your daughter. Every perfect inch of her. You feel no pain, only completely and wholly connected to the sky and the sea and your little family.

The tiny thing blinks dazedly, eyes opening a little and you inhale sharply. A happy sob chokes from your throat.

“Darling,” you coo, reaching to stroke one soft cheek with the back of a finger, infinite gentleness and adoration swelling within you. Her eyes are purple like your beloved’s. A brilliant mixture of the rising sun pink and blues you only find in the depths of the ocean where ancient Lemurian statues still stand.

“Will she be able to change when she’s so little?” you breathe the question to Rafayel, dipping to kiss the tip of her nose.

“Mmm,” he cradles you and nuzzles the back of your neck. “If she spends long enough outside the water it will happen automatically. She will learn to control it as she grows.”

You imagine Rafayel as a child, learning the same thing, a stark contrast to the strong Lemurian holding you now, the large tail swaying in the water beneath you.

Rafayel’s chest feels so open and so full. He’s never been more in love with, or more grateful to you, who is his soulmate. You, who has brought the future of Lemuria into the world.

[untoldstar]

I love the scary sea creature trying to mate x clueless human who’s just glad they have a new friend trope

You’re on a small holiday in a beach house you rented trying to get away from all the stress from your job, taking some space. Time for yourself to recharge your social battery.

You love every single thing about it. The long walks you take on the beach, no thoughts just the sound of the waves slowly washing up. The quieter peaceful nights with the cool breeze filling your room. You’ve even made a habit to wake up early each morning to watch the sunrise.

Your friends did offer to accompany you and you were grateful but you needed this alone time. As much as you loved them your social battery can’t even handle them sometimes.

So the days pass by with you lounging around, swimming, tanning on the beach without a care in the world.

Until one day when you sit down on one the houses wooden steps to watch the sunrise you notice movement in the water. You watch as the water splashes for a few seconds before it stills.

Slowly, very slowly, a head slowly emerges from the surface. Only the top of it though. Just enough for the eyes to be above water.

You never see people swimming this early, how long have they been here?

You don’t dwell on them for too long as your attention drift to the sun slowly rising. You feel your breath being taken away as the waters surface reflects the light almost glittering. You never get tired of it even after seeing it everyday.

It seems the person feels the same way as they slowly rise higher out of the water and watch the view. You feel a strange connection. Like it’s in intimate moment. This is a complete stranger but you both are the only ones here who are witnessing such a beautiful sight.

You tense up when you notice something moving under the surface near them. You’re sure they’re not the one causing they seem to be standing completely still.

You start moving, urgency in your step until your stepping in wet sand and the water completely soaks the bottom of your pajama pants “Hey watch out! I think something is-“ The person startles and whips around. Your words die in your throat as you take them in.

Long pointed ears. Pale almost translucent skin. Small slits on the sides of their neck that you normally wouldn’t catch if it weren’t for them aggressively flaring. White terrified eyes.

And the splashing around them was a tail.

Their tail.

You can’t take your eyes off of it. Dark green scales glittering in the light.

When they notice your stare they quickly duck their head underwater. Their tail splashing once before any trace of them is gone.

You took a walk in the morning. As well as in the afternoon. You kept looking out your window but there was nothing in the water.

You sat and watched the sunset and waited but nothing. For once the view didn’t have your full attention.

Even as the sky got dark and you started rubbing your arms from the cold bite of the air you didn’t move. You couldn’t. All you could think about was the creature you saw this morning.

You knew it was really early and maybe you weren’t fully awake but there was no way your imagination was that strong.

You hug your knees and rest your chin on your arms. You let exhaustion consume your body and your eyes flutter shut as you slowly drift to sleep. The sound of the waves lulling to you to sleep.

You wake up laying on your back with a weight pressing on your chest. You groan and slowly blink. You vision takes a second to clear up but when it does you’re met with white eyes looking into yours. You gasp and quickly sit up, scaring the poor creature in front of you as well and sending him scattering away.

He doesn’t jump into the water but he’s close enough to where he could make a quick escape. He looks at you with alarm and fear in his eyes as he nervously looks between you and the water, as if debating his options.

You try to calm your breathing even though your heart is pounding in your chest “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to scare you.” You say in a hushed tone and he perks up. He seems to understand that you’re not a threat but you’re not sure if he understands what you’re actually saying “Can you..understand me?” Whether he does he doesn’t show but his body relaxes so you’ll take that as a good signs.

He simply stares at you not saying anything. Not afraid. Curious.

Since he’s not going anywhere you might as well get comfortable. You hug your knees to your chest and look up at the sky. A smile tugs at your lips “I fell asleep tonight but I always sit here and watch the stars and the moon. It’s beautiful isn’t it? especially on nights when the moon is full.” He probably doesn’t understand a word you’re saying but you continue anyway “I sit alone but when I watch the moon but I don’t feel alone. It’s weird, maybe.” When you turn to him he’s looking up at the moon longingly. The way you look at it. Maybe you’re similar in some ways.

Suddenly he tenses and looks at the water. You don’t see or hear anything but clearly something has caught his attention. He doesn’t spare you another glance before jumping into the water and swimming away.

The next morning when walk along the beach as the sun rises you find a seashell in your path. Big and beautiful. Not like the small ones you’ve been collecting during your time here. Clean and sitting on top of the sand almost as if it’s deliberately placed there. You don’t waste time in scooping it up. Inspecting it in awe. You knew the perfect place for it.

You make your way back to the house excited with the new addition to the little trinkets and shells you’ve collected so far not noticing the head that peeks out of the water and watches your retreating figure.

The next night a rock washes up. White and almost translucent shining under the moonlight. Simple but beautiful.

You hear the water splashing and look away from the rock to see the merman, his eyes on the rock in your hand. Your brows raise in shock “You’re back.” He looks at you and his lips twitch in a wobbly smile, almost like he’s never done it before “I thought I scared you away.” You chuckle “ He shakes his head “N-no..” He rasps “I’m not scared. Not of you.” He speaks the last part softly “I didn’t know you could talk.” You feel rude for saying it but he doesn’t seem to mind “I only learned from humans. I always like listening to them talk on their boats or when they’re swimming. I’m the only one though.” He looks down sadness clouding his eye “The rest don’t like humans so they never learned.”

“What about you?” He startles “Me?” You nod “Do you not like humans?” He shakes his head furiously “I do! My family thinks they’re vile but I’ve always wanted to spend time with them.” His expressions falls again “Most are afraid of me.” You shift so you’re sitting closer to him “I’m not.” He flinches when you place your hand on top of his before relaxing. He looks at it with an unreadable expression “Yes..You’re quite different. You aren’t afraid. And you accepted my presents.” You tilt your head “Presents?” You ponder for a moment “You mean the shell and the white rock?” He nods looking down shyly “I didn’t realize they were from you but now that I know..Thank you they’re were lovely.” You smile. He looks at your lips and his stretch into a clumsy version of a smile and you can’t help but think of it as endearing. He can talk like humans but perhaps he’s never gotten close enough to learn expressions.

For the next few days every morning a new item would wash up on the beach and be added to your shelf and each night you sat in the same spot and talked to him for hours. Caspain, you later learned was his name.

He didn’t show it at the beginning but he was very excited to talk to a human. You were the first human he was able to talk to. All the others ran away screaming when they saw him and they never showed again. Except for you.

One night when you showed up expecting him to be waiting for you like always you didn’t find him only an open clam with a big pearl in the middle. It’s decorated with shells and smaller pearls like someone made it themselves.

You remembered you didn’t get your usual present that morning. Smiling softly you crouch down to pick it up. You had told him many times he didn’t need to bother with so many presents but he didn’t seem interested in stopping.

Your fingertips barely graze the surface of the shell when a hand shoots out of the water and grips your wrist making your heart shoot out of your chest.

His head emerges out of the water “You accept.” He mutters, voice low “What?” Your voice comes out breathless “You accept.” He repeats. Fierce determination sparking in his eyes.

He harshly pulls your arm and your body falls into the water. Water rushes into your mouth and you kick your legs to try and swim up to the surface but it’s no use when his arm wraps around your waist and pulls you back down and presses you flush against his body.

You squirm in his hold but it doesn’t deter him. His body moves quickly as he takes you deeper into the water. Small fish life around becoming a blur of color as you both shoot down deeper.

Your lungs burn and black spots dot your vision. The last thing you see is him glancing at you then looking around with panic in his eyes. You feel your body being tugged abruptly to another direction before your vision goes black

THIS FIC IS GOING TO HAVE MORE THAN TWO PARTS! ITS DIFFERENT THIS TIME! I SWEAR! *I scream as they drag me back to the white padded room*

part 2 is out

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Bro I’ve been following you for—I kid you not—years. And I’ve always been more of a lurker, but now that you’re writing for the single greatest hyperfixation I’ve ever had, I just had to come in and request some Epic from one of my favorite drabble blogs lol. Could I kindly request something Poseidon related? Perhaps to the same prompt as your most recent Ares one? 👉🏽👈🏽

A/n: STOOOPP! This is the sweetest thing ever! Of course! I will be happy too.

Poseidon’s Favorite Places He and You His Wife Have Had Sex.

(Or: The God of the Sea and His Eternal Obsession with You)

Poseidon is a god of power, a force of nature itself. But when it comes to you, his wife, his divine equal, his greatest love.

He is insatiable.

The ocean is vast, endless, eternal.

And so is his hunger for you.

1. Beneath the Waves – Where No Mortal Can Breathe, But You Can

The first time Poseidon took you beneath the waves, it had been an act of trust.

You had been standing on the shore, your feet sinking into wet sand, waves curling around your ankles like an invitation.

Poseidon had appeared from the sea itself, rising from the water with effortless grace, his dark hair dripping, his storm-blue eyes burning with something possessive.

He had extended his hand. “Come with me.”

And you had trusted him because why wouldn't you, he was your world.

The water had wrapped around you, pulling you into the depths.

For a moment, there had been nothing but the crushing silence of the deep, the pressure of the ocean folding around you.

But then—you could breathe.

You could see the world of the sea, the glowing coral, the silver fish darting between ruins of lost civilizations.

And then—you felt him.

Poseidon had pinned you against a smooth rock formation, his body pressing into yours, the water swirling around you like a living thing.

“Here,” he had whispered, his lips trailing against your throat. “Where no mortal has ever touched.”

His hands explored every inch of you, slow, reverent, claiming you as the queen of his realm.

And when he finally thrust into you, filling you completely, the ocean itself trembled with his pleasure.

The waves above swelled and crashed violently against the shore, a reflection of the storm between you.

And in that moment—you became more than just his wife.

You became his sea, his tide, his storm.

2. On the Edge of a Storm, Where the Wind and Rain Bow to Him

Poseidon is the god of storms, of the untamed sea, of the power that churns beneath the surface.

And sometimes, when his desire for you is too overwhelming, too fierce, too all-consuming—

The world feels it.

The last time he had pulled you to him in the middle of a storm, you had been standing on the deck of a ship, watching the sky darken, the wind howling through the sails.

Poseidon had appeared from nowhere, materializing with the storm itself, his expression dark, ravenous.

“You tempt me,” he had murmured, pushing you against the mast, the rain soaking through your clothes.

You had shivered—not from cold, but from the heat in his eyes, the way his wet hands slid over your skin, rough and unyielding. Whimpers leaving your lips as lightning had cracked across the sky when he lifted you into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist, grinding against you until you were gasping his name.

The ship had rocked violently, caught in the force of his passion, the sea itself obeying the god that ruled it.

And when he finally thrust into you, deep and hard, claiming you as his own amidst the chaos—

The ocean had roared with him.

The crew had whispered stories of a goddess among them, of a storm conjured by love and desire.

And Poseidon had only grinned, brushing his lips over your ear, whispering, “Let them fear us.”

⸻

3. In His Temple, Where He Worships You Like a Goddess

Poseidon may be a god.But to him, so are you.

And he proves it every time he lays you down upon the marble altar in his temple, beneath the flickering torches, where the scent of salt and incense fills the air.

He does not rush, does not ravish you in hunger.

No.

Here, he takes his time.

Here, he kneels before you, his hands trailing over your thighs, parting them slowly as if he is preparing to make an offering.

And when his mouth finds you, when his tongue moves with practiced devotion—

You realize that he is the one who worships.

Poseidon, the god who commands the seas, who holds dominion over storms and earthquakes, kneels for you.

He devours you like you are the ocean itself, like he will drown in you, like he would rather die than stop.

And when you finally fall apart beneath him, crying his name, gripping his hair—

Only then does he rise, his eyes dark with reverence, with love, with obsession.

And he takes you slowly, deeply, endlessly—

Because you are not just his queen.You are his everything.

4. On the Shores of His Kingdom, Where the Tide Kisses Your Skin

There is something about the beach at dusk, when the tide is high and the world is quiet.

It is here that Poseidon finds you the most beautiful.

You had been standing in the shallow water, your dress wet, clinging to your curves, your eyes locked onto his with quiet defiance.

“Come to me,” he had commanded.

And you had refused, just to tease him.

So he had come to you instead.

The next thing you knew, you were on your back in the wet sand, Poseidon above you, his body pressing you down as the waves washed over you both.

“You are impossible,” he growled, but there was a grin in his voice, amusement in the way he kissed you—hard, claiming, relentless.

And then he pushed into you, deep and slow, the water swirling around your bodies, the tide rising in rhythm with his movements.

You had cried out, gripping his shoulders, gasping against his lips as he moved with the ocean, each thrust pushing you further into ecstasy.

The sea had witnessed your love, cradled your bodies, carried the sounds of your pleasure into the wind.

And when you finally collapsed against him, spent and breathless, he had only whispered—

“You are mine. And I will never let you go.”

You are his goddess and he will make it so, because no one will be brave enough to take you from him.

Poseidon is a god of many things.

But when it comes to you, his wife, his love, his greatest treasure—

There is only one truth.

He will have you anywhere, everywhere, in the ocean, in storms, in temples, in the sand.

Because you are his, he is yours.

And he will spend eternity proving it.

[okwonyo]

BEWITCHED, 或──── how the first kiss went.

❛ 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗆𝖾.

1THOU 𓈒𓈒 日语 ⠀ ╱ fem!rea ⌕ fluff non idol au ──dis. skinship kissing と ⠀ ( 𝑜𝑜𝑒𝑢𝑣𝑟𝑒𝑠 )

지아 ⠀⦂ ⠀hihihihihi >< i missed u guys 🎀 repost because i forgot to add jw’s part TT

reblogs ˊᗜˋ +feedbacks · C𝑙𝑖CK

HEESEUNG

the popular belief would assume that a first kiss with him would go smoothly, that he would just lean whenever he feels like it.

but it is not, there is no world where it goes like that. in fact, he did think about it during the entire date— even since he laid his eyes on you. unfortunately, he is too shy to act on his thoughts.

because of this, his only way to say goodbye to you is by doing a very elaborate handshake and holding your hand for two solid minutes.

thankfully for him, you are the epitome of his dream girl: and his dream girl knows how to read his mind.

“if you want to kiss me,” you tell him, the moonlight kissing the surface of your skin. his gaz brushes your face like a brush on a canva. you step closer to him, lips brushing his, “you just can say so.”

he moves like he is hypnotized, his body moving yo meet your lips halfway. he pecks you once and can’t get enough— his hands cup your cheeks and he doesn’t leave you alone for a while.

⠀ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ﹙ᵕ ᵕ⠀look under the cut ! ♡

JAY

his look is heavy and soft on your face.

pressing the right place at the right moment— he makes it obvious but not enough to disturb you in what you are saying.

he waits until you stumble over your words. he looks at you, ready to take your breath away, eyes narrowed until you stop in the middle of your sentence.

“w—what?” you ask, barely able to breathe already.

he presses his lips together, debating whether he should play dumb or stop playing with you. tonight, he chooses to be nice:

in a sigh, he tells you, “i really want to kiss you is all.” he leans in, until his nose brushes yours and his breath brushes your lips as he says, “can i?”

everything just falls in place like water in a river. your hands travel each other, your lips fit well, the world fades away.

JAKE

on a cool yet warm summer night, you both walk hand in hand on the beach.

the sound of the waves creates a soft melody with the echo of your laughter. the sand melts under your feet and his shoulder keeps bumping into yours.

suddenly, you stop walking, “look,” you tell him, pointing at the sunset that he only admires through the reflection in your eyes.

inside of doing as he was told, he only looks at you, for a while— he admires the way the wind can easily touch your hair and he talks before he can think, “can i kiss you?”

you giggle, out of nervousness or because you are making fun of him, he isn’t sure. but you tell him something that soothes his heart: “yes.”

he leans in, planting a quick kiss on your lips. he pulls away, all red in the face before giggle and turning his face to the other side.

SUNGHOON

you drive him crazy— you make him feel in a way that no one has ever made him feel before. and that, sends him into an entire spiral.

whenever his eyes lock with yours, his hands get wet, his throat gets dry and his soul cries for you like a lamb cries for water.

his body is overwhelmed by the need of diving in, to capture your lips with his and never pull away— unfortunately for him, it reflects in his eyes just well.

he flinches at the smallest movement of yours, when you are suddenly too close like right now. where he stands right in front of you as your back faces your apartment’s building.

his eyes don’t leave yours as you put your hand on his shoulder and get on your tiptoes. for a moment, your lips connect and before he can even realize it. it’s over.

he mourns this moment as soon as you turn on your heels to get in. leaving him here, shocked and flushed.

SUNOO

a first kiss with him would be perfect — simply magical.

there isn't any words needed, or any right time. it comes naturally, as if it was the way were planned out to be since the beginning.

it comes like the spring wind at the end of winter— during a movie night at his.

of course, during a kiss scene, he isn’t able to not look at you and you are driven by the law of attraction to the same.

as the screen in front of you show two people sharing a kiss, you both lean in forward, aiming for each other’s lips.

it’s soft and refreshing, like peaches.

JUNGWON

it comes to him instinctively.

to be completely honest; first, it would come in a vision and he feels the need to fulfill the prophecy a few seconds after.

you have been going on and on about how you are not jealous. about how you know he is not your boyfriend (which hurts him!) and that it is not even a big deal.

your mouth has been blabbing about how this girl flirting with him while you were right next to him is just weird! and he needs a way to shut you up.

and he also needs to kiss you— he doesn’t think, his body just moves on his own.

the taste of you is too sweet, he ends up being the one who lacks words as you look at him with big eyes.

RIKI

it happens just like in the shojo you love to watch, like the manhwa you read, like the korean dramas you love so much.

you have been dating for three months, and farest you went when it comes to intimacy is hand holding— he can barely hug you for more than three seconds without becoming burning hot.

but, ever since his friend jokes about him not having his first kiss yet, he has decided to make it happen.

so, he finds himself sitting on his knees in front of you, who sits cross legged. he closes his eyes and leans towards you, shaking a tad and blushing a lot.

you are as nervous but you can’t help but giggle against his lips when he give you a tiny peck.

he ends up falling on his back with his hands covering his face

ㅤㅤ𓈒ㅤㅤ𓈒 taglist open

[skarpetaspodnapleta]

Without limits, without pauses, without mercy. From dusk till dawn, from dawn till dusk. From the kitchen counter, where dishes tremble at every movement, to the cold tiles of the bathroom floor, where every trembling breath echoes against the walls. From the walls that fail to contain the moans, to the cabinets that shake in rhythm with moving hips. From the bedroom mirror that mercilessly reflects every taut muscle and every trace of nails down your back, to the shower where water mixes with sweat and saliva, soaking everything: bodies, walls, and souls alike.

On the table, on the chair, on the floor, on the couch, on every piece of furniture that stands in your way. Missionary, with nails digging into your back. On top, with hands wrapped tightly around a throat. Reverse cowgirl, where the view alone drives you insane. From behind, with raised hips begging for more. Sideways, backwards, upside down, in every position that shifts with the rhythm of desire. On the dining table that groans under the weight. On the washing machine, vibrating in perfect sync with your movements. On the stairs, where every thrust reverberates like an echo through the house.

In the kitchen, where steam rises above pots, and the smell of spices mingles with the scent of overheated skin. On the windowsill, where moonlight illuminates every motion, every drop of sweat, every bite mark left on shoulders and necks. Against the fridge, its cold surface a stark contrast to the fire in your body. On the kitchen island, where hands grip the countertop and legs wrap around hips in a desperate plea for more.

In the living room, where the couch becomes a battlefield. Pillows thrown to the floor, the rug crumpled, furniture shifted, and the air thick with moans. On the coffee table, barely sturdy enough to handle the force. By the window, where curtains sway in time with your movements, the city lights outside flickering in rhythm. On the armchair, balancing on the edge, every tilt and angle pushing your pulse faster and faster.

Outside, where the cold air bites at your skin, but the heat of your bodies makes it irrelevant. On the terrace, where the night sky becomes your only witness. On the car hood, still warm from the day’s sun. In the trunk, where every movement feels like breaking the rules. On the motorcycle, where balance is a challenge, and every moment feels like defying gravity.

In the car, where fogged-up windows shield what’s happening inside. On the back seat, where hands pull bodies closer. In the front seat, where the steering wheel barely stays in place. In a parking lot, where the risk of being caught makes your heart race even faster. By the side of the road, where the sound of passing cars merges with ragged breaths and muffled moans.

In the forest, where the scent of earth and dampness blends with the scent of skin. In a tent, where the thin fabric barely conceals the movements, and every sound carries through the trees. On the beach, where sand sticks to sweaty skin, and the crashing waves match the rhythm of your hips. In the water, where the waves cradle your bodies, every surge amplifying the pleasure.

In a hotel, where the bed never stays in one place. Where the mirrors on the ceiling reflect every moment. In the elevator, where time seems to freeze, and the space between floors becomes your entire world. In the restaurant’s backroom, where kitchen tools tremble on the shelves, and your bodies pulse with unrelenting desire.

In the bathroom, where the mirror fogs up, and the floor is slick with water. In the shower, where hands glide over wet skin, mouths never ceasing their search for each other. In the bathtub, where warm water envelops you, and the foam becomes the only veil between you and the heat.

Every inch of skin, every hidden curve, every nerve pushed to its breaking point. Fingers sliding across sweaty flesh, teeth sinking into lips, bite marks left on necks, shoulders, hips. Backs arching into impossible shapes, legs trembling with tension, toes curling with every wave of pleasure. Breaths quickened, shallow, broken by endless screams and moans.

From the first touch to the final shudder, when your body quakes and your mind dissolves into pure bliss. From the first look that sparks the fire, to the final embrace that leaves you both spent. Without limits, without pauses, without mercy.

And then, there’s him—in uniform, the sight enough to ignite every nerve in your body. The crisp lines of his police uniform, the badge glinting under dim light, the holster at his side holding his weapon, a reminder of the authority he wields. The weight of his presence pins you in place, his voice low and commanding, each word sending shivers down your spine. His hands, firm and unyielding, trace your body as if asserting control, the leather of his belt brushing against your skin, the cold metal of his cuffs a silent threat and promise all at once. Against the wall, with his body pressed tightly to yours, his breath hot against your neck, the uniform and everything it represents only heightening the tension, the power dynamic pulling you deeper into unrelenting desire.

[maybank5]

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐞

pairing ⤜ yn x jj

summary ⤜ a happy future fic, because we need some healing; jj on the beach with his family reflecting on his life.

a/n ⤜ how are we doing fam? me? not so well. this has been the hardest fictional moment that's ever hit me. i'm choosing to believe our boy is still off somewhere and gonna have the best, most fulfilled and loving future. sending hugs and love to each of you!!

song inspo ⤜ no song inspo for this one; but i did have 'nights in white satin' on repeat as i wrote

The sun is setting over the horizon, sinking down into the ocean and melting into streams of gold and orange against the shimmering water. JJ Maybank perches on his surf board for a moment, admiring it. He's never considered himself to be the most religious of people. Sure, he attended Sunday school as a kid, knows the bible stories decently enough; and yeah, there's times when he catches himself praying. Like the time John B got into that nasty accident, or when his son was born. There'd been complications, things had been touch and go for a moment. JJ had pressed his head against the glossy white wall of the hospital waiting area, hoping to God that things would be okay, as John B and Sarah rubbed his back comfortingly.

The one time JJ didn't pray might have been the one time he should. He'd been stabbed, by his son of a bitch father. Not Luke, the "real one" though JJ found it almost funny how he preferred to think of Luke fuckin' Maybank as his actual father. At least Luke had never tried to stab him. But that was beside the point; JJ had been stabbed, and things were not looking good. John B had felt for a pulse and had felt nothing. JJ can still remember the feeling of floating away, like riding a wave to the horizon. He hadn't prayed then. Instead, he'd made peace with his fate. He'd lived a pretty damn full life in 20 years, and if this was the end of it, so be it. At least on the other side, no one would be trying to hurt him, right? That sounded mighty nice to him. So he'd closed his eyes and let himself drift off towards that horizon.

Only instead, he'd woken up in a hospital, still very much alive. His best friends at his side. Pope and Kiara barely left his side, and John B had practically crawled into the bed with him to hold him in his arms until a nurse had yelled at him. JJ doesn't remember feeling such love until that moment. And that was when it all changed. He'd been given a second chance, and an opportunity to see just how loved and valued he is. He was never going to squander it or take it for granted again.

The sun is sinking lower, the water in front of him glittering in gold. JJ pushes his wet hair back off his forehead to admire it. Years ago he'd have just shrugged it off. Sunsets were a dime a dozen. Not anymore though. Now JJ takes the moment to sit and watch and appreciate.

He glances back to the shore, where his wife and baby are playing in the sand. Harley John Maybank's (it'd be a cold day in hell if JJ ever took the name of that man) new favorite thing was trying to rush to the water, his mom and dad hot on his heels. JJ could tell already that Harley was going to be a handful, and he couldn't fucking wait.

The waves were rising higher. It'd make for a sick surf tonight. JJ bites his lip, turns and paddles back to the shore. Some priorities rank higher than waves.

He tucks his board under his arm and hurries over to where the two of you are building a sandcastle with Harley's little castle-shaped buckets.

"Hey, baby," you glance up at your husband, reaching out and touching his cheek with his hand, always little assurances like that to make sure he's real, "Not surfing?"

"Nah," JJ shakes some water from his head, "Much rather'd build sand castles with this little one," he ruffles Harley's head of blonde hair, glistening in the sunlight.

You can't help but smile as he sinks down into the damp sand to help Harley stuff sand into his buckets. Moments like these is when it truly hits you, just how blessed you are.

JJ gently helps Harley, his eyes so soft and full of love and devotion. Harley John is his utmost pride and joy. He's always been soft with you, but the gentleness in which he treats your son is beyond anything you could imagine.

JJ packs the sand into the bucket with the back of a little plastic shovel. He wonders if maybe there was a time he'd done this as a boy, but shakes the thought from his head. It doesn't matter. He can do it now. He can do it with Harley.

"Sarah called earlier," your voice pulls JJ from his thoughts, "She and John B are going to have Baby Jackson christened. John B is supposed to ask you to be the godfather tomorrow, but Sarah couldn't wait to tell me. You know the two of them, it's not a church thing or anything. Just The Pogues and the ocean."

"Sounds nice," JJ says, wrapping his arms around Harley and pulling him softly onto his lap.

JJ reaches for your hand, pulling you to him as well. He presses a kiss the back of your hand, holding your hand and running his thumb over your knuckles. Nothing ever feels one hundred percent real unless JJ can feel it, touch it, revel in it. He tosses his head back as the evening breeze licks through his hair.

And in that moment, JJ can't help but stop and say thank you.

Because JJ Maybank lives every day in paradise.

[strangelysamantha]

✧ smut. ❀ fluff. ☆ angst. kofi

stranger things / the vampire diaries / youtubers

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ outer banks masterlist *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

↳ jj maybank… (31)

- jj’s reaction to you flinching ☆

♡ jj is shocked when he finds out you flinched because of him, and even worse when he realized you thought he would actually hit you.

- crumbled cookies ☆

♡ you decide it would be a good surprise to stop by jjs house quickly to drop off some of your homemade cookies, since you believe he isn’t feeling the best. then, unexpectedly jj's dad comes home with an unwelcoming embrace, which ruins the surprise.

- crumbled cookies pt 2 ☆

♡ after jj finds out his dad was the reason for your black eye, he had to confront him.

- seashells ❀

♡ jj sees you at the beach, but he’s too nervous to interact with you. you notice him behind you, and you invite him to join you. he’s excited to hang with you, as well as find beautiful shells hidden in the sand!

- waves of heat ❀

♡ wearing jjs shirt while on the hms pogue and him begging you to go swimming.

- you’re mine ❀

♡ at the beach a random tourist had something to say about you, and he touched you when you didn’t want him too. jealousy sends jj wild, and he’s pissed, but he can’t even act on it.

- hatred runs out ❀

♡ you are a kook, you were trying to befriend the pogues as they made you happier than you had been in months. the only downside, none of them were quite welcoming, besides jj.

- filled ✧

♡ jj smut where he has a size kink.

- scared for you ☆

♡ when a fight breaks out between you and jj, he can’t help but be petty and ignore you. this causes you to be left alone at a kegger.

- the deep end ☆

♡ jj somehow finds everything you do annoying to the point he criticizes everything you do. john b thinks of a plan that will ensure his two friends will befriend each other. it was working at first, until it wasn’t.

- forceful ☆

♡ barry continuously flirts and sexualizes you, and when jj finds out, it isn’t pretty.

- shorty ❀

♡ your boyfriend and the pogues love picking on you for your height.

- replaced chickens ☆

♡ after sarah replaced you and jj, the two of you were determined to confront john b. if you both could find the guts to do so.

- one sided hatred ❀

♡ when john b exposes that he isn’t too fond of you, jj takes total offense to that, annoyed john b could even think about you in a bad manner.

- embarrassed ☆

♡ you rant to an old friend, complaining that it is sometimes embarrassing to be with jj and he ends up finding out. but what he learns isn’t the truth, it is actually the farthest from it.

- hair “prank” ❀

♡ jj's lousy joke about shaving his hair off upsets you more than he expected it would.

- i’m making him watch ✧

♡ jj is jealous about a tourist hitting on you, he fucks you good to make sure you don´t forget why you are with him.

- scars ☆

♡ jj comes to you after a blow out with his father. you clean his bruises as well as clean his awful mindset he has on life.

- hair tech ❀

♡ your hair wasn’t looking the way you wanted, so jj offered to try and learn to fix it. with the newly learned hair techniques, came the exposure of feelings. having to avoid telling john b, he conveniently walks in during the worst time.

- mirror sex ✧

♡ jj fucks you while he makes you watch his reflection.

- nerves ❀

♡ jj is too nervous around you, he struggles to tell you how he really feels.

- wet dreams ✧

♡ jj and you cuddle after a fun day of swimming with your friends. once sleep takes over, jjs dream runs wild, and with you in his bed, how could he keep the naughty thoughts at bay?

- ruined reputation ☆

♡ “i don’t want to date someone who’s embarrassed to be seen with me jj.” jj is originally embarrassed for others to know that you two are dating. he fears what his friends would think. but is his reputation more important than him keeping you?

- wasted ☆

♡ “you were supposed to be my soulmate, but you threw it all away so you could screw some girl?” in which jj makes a grave mistake cheating on you.

- sweet dreams ✧

♡ jj fucks you while you are asleep.

- lies, lies, and more lies ☆

♡ after jj cheats on you, he can’t help but villainize himself by being rude to you and destroying any chance of redemption he had.

- panic attack ❀

♡ jj knows about your home life struggles, and he’ll always be on your side to help you.

- brothers best friend ✧

♡ being john bs sister made it difficult for you to find a boyfriend, especially when the guy you want is his best friend. however, what john b doesn't know, can't hurt him. until one day, jj thinks the two of you are alone, but john b comes back early.

- cry ☆

♡ based on the song cry by cigarettes after sex.

- diary ❀

♡ after your sister exposes your diary entry of your secret crush for jj, you are left feeling humiliated. jj, however finds it distasteful that your sister would violate your privacy like that, and he's eager to talk to you.

- gentle ✧

♡ after jj is away for a week, the tension between you two is rapidly increasing, and its difficult to keep your hands off of each other.

…

↳ john b… (3)

- inexpressible feelings ❀

♡ drunk words are sober thoughts, are they not? john b drunkenly asks you on a date, since that’s the only time he has the guts to talk to you.

- struggling ❀

♡ john b is struggling, and he finds himself venting to you about his lost father.

- tripped ❀

♡ john b embarrasses himself in front of you and is trying to get past it.

…

↳ pope heyward… (5)

- small details ❀

♡ “i never thought you’d pay attention to me in that way.” when pope accidentally reveals to you, that he does indeed, pay attention to the little things you do.

- avoidable jealousy ❀

♡ pope mistakes the bond you have with jj as something more than friends. this influences him into becoming jealous of something that wasn't happening.

- deserve better ✧

♡ after kiara told you she openly plays with pope’s feelings, there’s only so much you can do before you blow up on her.

- hopeless romantic ❀

♡ you visit pope at work, as often as you can. you help him, listen to him, flirt with him, and match his energy. his feelings for you are undeniable.

- party moves ❀

♡ it’s a boring party until pope shows up, and the atmosphere makes it easy to express your true feelings.

…

↳ rafe cameron… (19)

- act like it, get treated like it ✧

♡ rafe cameron doing what he does best.

- patience can be rewarding ✧

♡ you were confused as to why rafe was being extra clingy today. whether he meant to do it on purpose, or he was unintentionally obsessing over you, you decided to make a deal with him. if he could leave you alone, and undistracted long enough for you to finish your project, then you’ll make him feel good.

- elderly advice ❀

♡ when you work at a golf course as a cart girl, you are happy because that means you’ll be seeing rafe more often. but there’s a downside when you realize that kelce and topper will see you more often as well, and with seeing them more often, you also get to hear their harsh words.

- bittersweet ☆

♡ you went to a local party by the beach when rafes unstable side peeked out. jj maybank finds you alone and decides to talk to you. rafe gets possessive and upset, thinking that jj was hitting on you.

- are you busy? ✧

♡ cockwarming rafe since he’s too busy to pay any attention to you, because he’s busy doing work for his father.

- crashing ☆

♡ rafe is waiting for you to meet him at figure 8, but he’ll be waiting awhile as you got in a tragic car accident, the other vehicle being driven by his father.

- malice compliments ❀

♡ rafe tries to flirt with you, but you believe it is malice and that he is pulling a lame prank on you.

- crystal clear ❀

♡ rafe cameron found out you were hiding crystals in his room, car, and pockets. he goes to topper to see if he knew what was going on, and after topper explained what it meant, he confronts you.

- shark bite ☆

♡ what was once a fun day on the beach filled with surfing, quickly became a bloody and painful nightmare.

- cheerleader ❀

♡ rafe was intrigued by you, he wanted to get to know you. he thought that task would be easy, but your distaste for him was apparent. despite the overwhelming amount of setbacks, he knew he would get you to crack.

- cheerleader two ✧

♡ the aftermath of rafe going to a football game for you and seeing you in a tight cheer outfit.

- wish you were sober ☆

♡ based on conan grays song, wish you were sober. in which watching after rafe becomes too tiring after he loses control again.

- surprise ❀

♡ throwing a surprise birthday party was definitely harder than you had expected, especially one for rafe.

- bonfire ☆

♡ rafe is overprotective of you at the bonfire and possessive!rafe doesn’t like the tourons staring at you.

- unfortunate events ☆

♡ rafe cameron is so overprotective, but that doesn’t stop him from putting you in harm's way. after reckless driving lands you in the hospital, your relationship is on the rocks.

- exposed ❀

♡ rafe sees a text from topper, exposing your little crush on him. at first you try to play it off, but you gain enough confidence to tell rafe about your feelings.

- promise ❀

♡ with matching halloween pajamas, you and your boyfriend are ready for some spooky movies.

- leverage ☆

♡ when barry doesn’t get his money from rafe, he goes to the next best thing. you.

- F.Y.B.F ✧

♡ cheating on jj maybank with rafe cameron, after you and jj have a huge fight.

- match maker ❀

♡ sarah’s eager to play match maker, so she can find you, your perfect soulmate. meanwhile, rafe changes his appearance to cater to you, in hopes you would notice.

…

↳ topper thornton… (2)

- sugar daddy ❀

♡ topper takes you shopping, something he didn’t think he was actually going to enjoy doing.

- realizations hit hard ❀

♡ topper tries to set you up with kelce, but he soon realizes he doesn’t want you to be with kelce. he wants you to be with him.

…

↳ sarah cameron… (5)

- girl that you love ☆

♡ when you accidentally read the situation wrong, and you expose yourself for liking sarah in a more than friendly way, she is quick to turn you down. “i’m sorry i gave you the wrong impression.” sarah isn’t gay, and she definitely doesn’t like you that way.

- lucky woman ❀

♡ sarah cameron finds out you have a crush on a girl, unbeknownst to her, she is that special lady. you know you can’t tell sarah about how you feel since she’s dating john b, so you have to quickly think of a crush that you can expose to sarah.

- secretly in love ❀

♡ a secret relationship between you and sarah, what could possibly go wrong?

- sunset confessions ❀

♡ all it took was one boat ride to change everything. when sarah cameron decides to tell you about her undeniable feelings, while the two of you watch the sunset.

- girl that you love pt 2 ❀

♡ after humiliating yourself after your confession to sarah, you find yourself comforted by kiara.

…

↳ the pogues… (1)

- life jackets ❀

♡ since you don’t know how to swim, you have to wear a life jacket. the pogues think it’s the funniest thing ever.

…

[retireddaddyric]

“Lost time”

Synopsis: Retired Daniel and (y/n) have been friends for years and never acted on their attaction before this day at the beach.

Warnings: 18+, minors do not interact please. Smut, unprotected sex, delusional hints about daniel future, slight fluff. This is all fiction, I have no idea what is Daniel doing in the future (screams.).

Note: English is not my first language, so I apologize in advance if there are any errors.

I’m laying on the warm towel when Johanna and Loris, two new Daniel’s friends I met today, start gathering their belongings from the sand. The sun has gone away under the horizon gifting us with and incredible sunset just minutes ago.

“You guys are leaving?” I ask them.

“Yeah that party starts soon so we need to go get showered and dress up.” Johanna says referring to this party they’ve been invited to.

“You’re staying?” Loris asks hanging his backpack at his shoulder.

I look towards the sea shore where Daniel is chatting to two surfers.

“Yeah I’ll wait for Daniel, he’ll drop me home.” I smile politely at them. They look like nice people.

“Hey Lor, ya’ goin’?” Daniel’s voice echoes in the distance.

Loris rises a thumb up in the air and Daniel does the same.

After the couple has left I prop on my elbows and see Daniel waving at the surfers who are now leaving too. He is walking towards me. We’ve been friends for years now, apart from each other because of his career but still close.

Despite being retired for months now his abs are still rock hard, his muscles are all at their places, neck still thick. What’s new it’s this lazy longer than usual beard he sports and his curls that are longer.

I shouldn’t be checking out my friend like that, right?

I blush when I see him smiling at me behind his sunglasses, his wet swim trunks clinging to his thighs.

“Are you checking me out?”

“What? I am not! I’m just guessing if you’re still training.”

“What do you think?” He asks smirking while laying on his beach towel next to me, his fingers tracing patterns in the sand. He is on his stomach, his elbows keep his torso up while he watches me intently.

“I guess you do.” I smile. “And anyway it’s a pity you gave up on racing in general.. if you’re done with f1 it’s okay but.. what about other categories?”

I see him smile to himself while he keeps drawing in the sand.

“Who knows..” he says almost absently.

The purple and orange from the sky reflect on his sunglasses. I reach for them and took them off and. His brown eyes smile at me, a curl on his forehead.

“I’m happy tho.” He says and looks at the freckles on my cheeks.

“Are you?” I ask genuinely interested.

“Yeah I get to have more time with my friends now.” He says getting a little closer.

“You never were really out of the group.”

“Yeah but being with you like this was hard, we met like three or four times a year.” He admits.

“You didn’t miss me tho.” I tease him.

“I didn’t show it.” He winks while rubbing a finger on my arm so that it is now covered in sand.

We look at each other trying to suppress the smile on our faces.

“We should go..” i say looking around at the empty beach.

“Why?” He asks resting his cheek on his palm.

“We’re alone.” I say turning my head towards him again.

He nods and his eyes lower to my mouth. “And?”

I swallow and I look for his eyes. “And?”

“You could have left but you didn’t.” He says calm.

“yeah.. but we came together I thought it could have been rud-“

“That’s the safe answer.” He says laughing low.

“What are you implying?” I ask sitting up and blushing.

“Nothing.” He laughs. “Wanna come have a soak?”

“Now?”

“Now.”

“..yeah.”

He nods and I nod. But he doesn’t move. “Let’s go.. I guess?” I tell him.

He laughs. “You go first.”

I furrow my eyebrows. “What the..?”

“You go, I’ll follow.” He repeats.

“No you won’t, you’re gonna wait for me to get in the water and then run to your car and leave.” I laugh.

“Tempting idead, but I swear I won’t.” He laughs.

“I’m not moving.” I tell him looking at the sea.

I hear his eyes on me and then he stands up letting out a deep breath. And that’s when I notice it. He adjusts his erection very pronounced from his swim trunks.

“Don’t look at it like that, that’s the reason I wanted you to go in first.” He says smiling proudly.

My jaw is still hanging when he pulls me up and on his shoulder and carries me to the water.

“You have a hard-on.” I tell him while i watch his heels march in the sand.

“You have eyes I see.” He says over his shoulder.

I gasp and we’re both underwater. When I resurface I look around and then see his head get out next to me. He smiles while he brings a hand in his wet curls to flip them backwards.

“You stayed because you wanted a ride back home right?” He asks. The water is calm around us, the birds in the distance the only noise.

I nod.

He nods. “It doesn’t have to do with the fact that you seemed upset when you realized I asked you to come to the beach with me and we weren’t alone right? That Loris and Johanna were here too.” He smirks.

“What? No.” I feel my cheeks burn.

He swims slowly towards me. “(Y/n)?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t lie.”

I put my mouth under the surface to hide the laugh. He laughs.

“You wanted to be alone with me?”

I don’t answer.

“You wanted to be alone with me.” He smirks.

“Come closer.” He whispers, a salty droplet falling from his lips.

I look at him and i do what he asks.

He smirks. “Can I try something?”

“Yeah.”

He laughs “you didn’t even ask me what.”

“Dan-“

His mouth is against mine, eating me whole, soul and lips and tongue. This is the kiss I knew models around the world had been getting while he sent me goodnight messages.

I entwine my fingers in his hair and he leans to me even more, his hands grabbing my thighs and parting them to get between them.

His mouth descenda on my chin and on my throat. I moan low, he breathes heavily.

“Fucking hell how I wish I could have done this earlier.” He groans. I feel his hard cock pressing on my bikini bottom. I thow my head back, my hair in the water.

His hands push on my hips creating a delicious friction between our achinng parts.

“Tell me you want it.”

“Dani-“

“Tell me you dreamt about this.”

“What do y-“

“Just say yes.”

“People might-“

“Say yes.”

“Yes.”

And that’s the last word we exchange. He spins me around and his hands are at my sides, lowering my bikini bottom. Then with one hand he frees his cock and with the other he grabs my shoulder pushing it low so I’m arched forward.

I feel the head of his hardness sliding between my pussy lips. I close my eyes and my eyebrows shoot up in awe when it brushes against my clit.

“Fuck, you look like you wanted it more than I did.” He whispers into my ear hotly, smirking.

I bite my bottom lip smiling. He doesn’t know how much this is the truth.

“Arch a little more, baby.” He asks.

I do as he says and he’s inside with a swift move. I gasp, his hand at my shoulder tightens. I feel his dick twitch inside.

“You okay?” He whispers breathy. I nod.

His forehead rests against my back and his hands grab my hips. He slowly starts to move and I open my eyes. I turn my head and he’s looking at me, his lips parted, his eyes in ecstasy.

“You sure it doesn’t hurt? You’re thight damn.” He asks softly and husky.

I shake my head and he kisses me again, still moving, one of his hand reaching my boob and squeezing it.

I let out a shaky moan and he groans. “That was hot, please do it again.”

He makes a particular hard thrust and I moan again.

“Holy fuck!” He whispers and the hand that was on my hip is now between my legs. He plays with my clit while he keeps thrusting in from behind.

“You’re close aren’t you?” He whispers.

I nod. “Don’t stop, please.” I beg breathy.

“Sh, sh, I won’t.”

His hands are both at my waist as he keeps me in place and fucks me like a mad man.

“If it hurts just tell me.” He breathes fast while he slides in and out of me in fast moves.

And that’s when I shudder and the orgasm hits me. I come squeezing my thighs together, caging his cock in in the motion, my hands gripping his hands at my waist so tight i’m hurting us both.

And he comes soon after, biting my shoulder and groaning against it. Two thrusts later he’s panting while stilling and i am shaking.

When he slips out i imemdiately pull my bikini bottom up to its place, my chest still heavy with breaths.

His hands grab my cheeks and he forces me to meet his eyes.

“Are you okay?” He asks concerned, softly.

“Yeah.” I blush. “It’s dark we should go back home.” I say awkwardly, trying not to make my mind wander to what does this meant to him.

He shakes his head and kisses me. I kiss him back, my heart thunders.

“You’re coming home with me.” He whispers.

“Why?” I look into his eyes, my hopeful heart trembling excuted.

“We lost too much time already.” He says smiling softly.

“You were racing.” I say caressing his wet hair.

“And I will again.” He says smiling.

“You will?” I ask shocked, my eyes wide.

“Are you a jurnalist?” He giggles while touching my cheekbone.

“Daniel you will race again?” I ask excited.

“Yeah. Only.. this time you’ll be with me.” He smiles broadly.

[abigailovesz]

EVEN IN THE DARK

summary: a quiet girl battling anxiety and depression, caused by bullying crosses paths with jj maybank - the golden boy with a wild smile and deep wounds no one sees. what begins as a cautious friendship grows into a love that is raw, patient, and life-changing. together, they learn to navigate mental illness, grief, and the scars of their pasts, building a life defined not by perfection, but by presence. through marriage, parenthood, and healing, they choose each other again and again - proving that true love isn’t about saving someone, but standing beside them when the world goes quiet.

inspo: sailor song - gigi perez

warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of anxiety and depression as well as panic attacks, a miscarriage, mentions of jjs past so abuse, self worth/insecurity, happy ending, and pregnancy.

a/n: im sorry this is so fucking long, but i took me a whole month so hope ya like it i also got part of this idea from a writing project i had done a few years ago & i somehow found it again in my room so its inspired by that ! (a few of the lines are from the paper thats why its so fuckin poetic lmao) basically the life jj deserved ayye

you had always lived in the quieter spaces of life. A soft-spoken girl with sad eyes that held more stories than you could ever say aloud. on the outside, you were just another senior trying to make it through the school year. but inside, every day felt like dragging your feet through wet sand.

anxiety and depression had become a constant hum in your mind. they crept in quietly during childhood after days of getting tormented, made fun of and rooted themselves firmly by the time you turned sixteen. mornings were battles, and nights were battlegrounds. your thoughts raced, heart often pounded without reason, and sometimes you felt like you were drowning in a sea only you could see.

no one really noticed. except for jj maybank.

to everyone else, jj was the golden boy of the outer Banks. Loud, wild, always the center of attention. the sun seemed to shine differently around him - like it couldn’t help but follow his charm. but that charm? It was a mask. one he wore every day and every hour. beneath the jokes and the laughter was a boy who had learned too young how to hide his pain. a boy with his own fears, his own scars.

jj first noticed you in the library. you sat in the farthest corner, headphones on, curled up in a way that said “do not disturb.” But something about your stillness intrigued him. not in a romantic way at first — more like recognition. He saw something familiar in her silence. He saw himself.

you both didn't talk for weeks. just quiet glances, stolen between book stacks and hallways. until one rainy afternoon, your anxiety had reached a boiling point. you'd fled class, overwhelmed and breathless, and locked yourself in the art room. you hadn’t expected anyone else to be there - but jj was.

he didn’t say anything right away. he just sat on the floor a few feet away and picked up a pencil. he started sketching - he surprisingly, was pretty good at it but never showed anyone. Silence filled the room, comfortable and understanding. When your breath slowed, you asked without looking at him, “why are you here?”

jj hesitated, then answered truthfully. “sometimes I come here when I can’t breathe.”

That was the beginning.

you both began to find each other in hidden places. the dock behind the marina at sunset. The rooftop of the old motel. your porch swing on sleepless nights. he didn’t ask your to be happy. you didn’t ask him to be strong. you both just existed - painfully, beautifully, honestly.

one night, under a sky of stars, jj had confessed the words he was always afraid to say, “I feel broken.”

you looked at him with eyes full of quiet understanding. “then we’re two pieces of the same mirror,” you said. “cracked. but still reflecting somethin' real.”

the world didn’t stop hurting. your anxiety didn’t vanish, and his demons didn’t magically disappear. but together, you both built a space where pain didn’t have to be hidden. you aughed in the darkness. cried without shame. found genuine happiness in small things - like late beach walks, or sharing a milkshake without speaking.

jj became your own anchor when the waves got too high. you became his lighthouse when the storms closed in.

love didn’t cure you both. but it gave the two of you strength. It reminded you and him that you weren’t alone - you had eachother. that being vulnerable wasn’t weakness, but bravery. And that sometimes, the most broken hearts are the ones most capable of deep love.

HIGH SCHOOL ENDED with a blur of bittersweet emotions. jj didn’t walk at graduation — not because he didn’t want to, but because he was afraid. afraid of what came next. you, however, sat in the crowd with trembling hands, hearing your name echo across the stadium speakers.

you walked that stage not because you felt strong - but because jj was in the stands, silently cheering you on.

you both stayed in the outer banks for one more summer. long, golden days filled with sunsets. jj worked at the boatyard, fixing things with his hands, while you took photographs of the coastline and wrote in your journal — pieces of poems she never showed anyone but him.

but as summer ended, change rolled in.

you had been accepted into a university a few hours away to study psychology - you wanted to understand your own mind and help others like you. jj, on the other hand, had no clear path. no college plans. just a restless heart and a fear of becoming his father.

you both fought the night before you left.

“I don’t belong in that world, baby” jj said, pacing your tiny bedroom.

“you belong anywhere you choose to be,” you argued, tears threatening. “you’re not broken, jj. you’re scared. like I was. like I still am.”

he didn’t come to you the next morning. but he left a note tucked into your bag.

“I don’t know how to be in the world without you in it but I want to learn how to be worthy of standing next to you in it.”

you both spent the first few months apart aching in different ways. you struggled with new routines, panic attacks in lecture halls, and the isolation of pretending to be okay. jj picked up extra shifts, and started visiting john b more and more.

you both wrote letters. real ones. Ink on paper. because some things felt too special to say out loud. jj’s handwriting was messy, rushed, but his words were always honest.

and you always wrote back.

the next summer, he showed up at your apartment, sunburned and smiling. “there ya are," he let out a long breath. "missed you - everyday baby." you threw your arms around him, eyes shutting in relief.

years passed. slowly, you both grew - not into new people, but into fuller versions of yourselves. both had setbacks. panic attacks, sleepless nights, old fears rising easily. but they never faced them alone again.

eventually, jj applied to a mechanics program in the same city away from outer banks and near your college. he fell in love with working on boats, but also with the quiet way your eyes still lit up when he walked into the room.

you graduated with honors. at your ceremony, you read a speech about healing in imperfect ways. you thanked your professors. your therapist. and one “unexpected person who reminded me I didn’t have to be okay to be loved. I just had to be real.”

jj proposed on that same rooftop you both used to sneak onto back in high school. no audience. no flash. just a small ring, shaky hands, and these words -

“you once told me we were pieces of the same mirror. I think we’ve built something.. new now, y'know?”

And you, smiling through tears, whispered - “yes. always yes.”

YEARS LATER, your house sat at the edge of a coastal town, far enough from the chaos but close enough to the sea that jj could still smell the salt in the morning. the house was small — two bedrooms, sun-drenched windows, and walls lined with your photographs. It wasn’t perfect. but it was theirs.

jj now ran his own repair shop by the docks. he never called himself a business owner - that felt too fancy to him - but he was proud of what he’d built. he still had bad days. the kind where the weight in his chest made it hard to move, where old memories were louder than he’d like. but he knew, he had you.

you both didn’t have children - not yet, maybe not ever. It was something you'd talked about gently, honestly, without pressure. you both had been through too much to rush anything.

love did not have to look like everyone else's.

but then, it happened.

you were ten weeks pregnant. you both hadn’t told many people. just the close circle of jj's second family: john b, Pope, everyone through a phone call. a cautious kind of joy had filled the house since the first test. jj had kissed your belly every night like a quiet promise, and you had finally started to believe you could do this - that your body was safe enough for life.

but that afternoon, something shifted. a dull ache turned into sharp pain. then came the blood.

at first, you panicked. “maybe it’s normal,” you whispered, standing in the bathroom, knuckles white as you gripped the sink. “spotting happens… sometimes.”

jj found you there, pale and trembling, your hands shaking as you tried to google symptoms. he didn’t say anything at first - just knelt and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind.

“we’re goin' to the doctor,” he said, calm. but his grip tightened slightly. “right now.”

you both sat in the sterile ultrasound room, you stared at the ceiling, jj clutching her hand like a lifeline. the silence from the tech stretched longer than it should have. then came the words you'd feared: “I’m so sorry… there’s no heartbeat.”

you didn’t cry right away. just nodded, numb, like someone who’d forgotten how to speak. jj looked stunned - like someone had yanked the air from his lungs - but he kept his eyes on her. Always on her.

When you both got home, you went straight to the bedroom and curled up on your side of the bed, hand resting instinctively where life had once been. “I shouldn’t have gotten attached,” you whispered.

jj sat beside her, silent for a long time. then he said, voice low and trembling, “fuck, I was already in love with someone I never got to meet.”

that’s when the tears came. for both of you.

but you knew you were still loved and okay with jj. you could try again.

IT STARTED WITH a test left on the bathroom counter. you sat on the tile floor, knees tucked to your chest, staring at the result with wide, disbelieving eyes. jj came home from the shop covered in grease, and when he found her there, silent and pale, he knelt beside her.

when you showed him the test, he didn’t speak at first. just layed his head against your shoulder. after a long, quiet breath, he whispered, “we'll be okay, it won't happen again baby.”

pregnancy - again - wasn’t perfect. your anxiety sharpened with each passing month. the questions, the what-ifs, the nights lying awake wondering if you’d be enough, if it would happen again.

When your daughter, lena maybank, was born, you cried harder than you ever had — not just from pain, but from awe. lena had her mother’s deep, thoughtful eyes and her father’s blond curls.

jj held her for the first time with hands that used to shake at the thought of being a father. but as he looked down at the tiny child, something in him stilled. “hello, girly,” he whispered. “you look just like me.”

parenthood didn’t erase your's and jj's mental struggles. In fact, it brought some of them to the surface. sleepless nights triggered jj’s old anger - not at anyone, but at the helplessness he sometimes felt. your depression came like a fog you hadn’t expected, even after all your experience.

but now they had language. and tools. and each other.

one evening, after putting lena to bed, jj and you sat on the porch, hands entwined like they always had been. “I never thought we’d make it here,” he whispered.

you kissed the side of his neck. “I did. because I knew we’d keep showing up. that’s what love is. and now we’re teaching her how to do the same.”

you then rested your head on his shoulder, the sound of the ocean in the distance, lena sleeping peacefully inside.

and jj knew, he would never ever be alone again.

[orphicsun]

Bury Me At Makeout Creek (E.W)

content: short blurb, jackson ellie (cannon divergent), angst, grieving, slight mention of ellie's eating issues, mentions of joel's death.

(-)

From the tips of your teeth to the root of your hair, you’re linked together, sewn up like a Raggedy Ann. It’s nothing new, but you still pick apart yourself. You can’t help it. You’d think after years of looking at yourself through the motioned creek reflection, it’d be clear to you who you are as a person. 

Sitting upon the grass with your feet in the stream, it’s lost on you. You look up to the trees, but all you can see is the others. Jesse has a sense of humor you find comfort in, but the true safety is his tendency for responsibility and order. Dina not so much, but you love her anyway. She loves unconditionally, and you’ll always need that.

It isn’t just when they’re in your presence, but hours that go by all alone that you think of them. You can’t think of yourself; if you dwell too much on the cartilage distinguishing your nose, squint your eyes to make out the size of your pupils, you’ll feel your mind simply mix each feature together into an uncertain mix of paint-water grey. You’ll never separate anything from yourself again. 

“Thinking again?” Ellie will separate you, though. You give her eyes a small jolt at first, startled by her sudden approach next to you. 

You’ve grown used to her visits to this same creek, to you. It would make no sense weeks ago, but what good does sense make now? Just a mutual friend is Ellie, but the loss of Joel leaves her all odd to perception. She does things she normally wouldn’t do. 

You’re spooked like a horse and something within her wants to snicker, but the thought of letting loose anything but quiet conversation makes her stomach churn with nausea, an empty feeling when your stomach is so light already. 

You lay back against the grass, the back of your legs flush with wet sand. Ellie remains upright. “Do you ever think about what I look like?” You ask, mostly hushed and minorly curious. 

She scoffs, but you don’t flinch at the usually impolite sound. “I don’t care about that. Why would I care about any of that bullshit?” 

You think of Ellie’s words as so interesting to the ears to pick up on–always barking and loud in their content, but her volume is quiet. You’re one for feelings, so despite the lack of closeness between the two of you, all you’ve felt is a concern bubble deep inside. She hasn’t always been this quiet. 

You don’t know why Ellie talks to you all of a sudden. Simply writing it off as an oddity for grieving is easy, though. Still, you like to wonder. You’re always stuck in your thoughts, but that is another reason to question magnetism. You’re worryful, absorbed, sensitive. She has always been a false stoic, so maybe before the incident, you wouldn’t have questioned it. Now, she goes about Jackson as though she feels nothing, a shut-down vessel frozen from the moment he lost his breath. 

You shrug, though. “People care about looks. It means a lot to them.” 

“Do you?” 

You shake your head; she nods. “Right. Neither do I.” 

You want to let it go, but you can’t. You can’t stop yourself from pulling apart each piece of you, even if it’s a trifle in a world in which creatures would happily pull you apart for you. “I just wish I liked myself.” 

Ellie pulls miniscule blades of grass from the ground below the both of you. “You told me last week you don’t know yourself, though,” she murmurs quietly. “How can you dislike something you don’t understand?” 

That makes you want to laugh. She is here, quietly comforting you in your ridiculous, self-made problems, all the while grieving her father figure. The thought of your own previous words, your own initiation into this arbitrary conversation rings you silent. 

Ellie sighs. “C’mon, don’t do that. I don’t mind it, you know.” 

You know that, too. You’ve accidentally forced it past her lips–she doesn’t mind it. In fact, it distracts her from the bloody sights she would think of instead. You save her, even with the stupidity of your own issues. Still, guilt gnaws at you. 

“Can I at least hug you?” You break your silence with a quiet chirp. Touch is something you’re unsure of with Ellie. Should you, should you not? Sometimes when you touch, you can feel the stiffness in her body. You easily pull away and talk instead. Other times, she holds you tightly as if you’ll slip between her fingers like sand. 

This time, she nods and adjusts her posture. You rise and meet her welcoming arms halfway. Hugs with her are always nice. The general idea of a hug is awkward and distant, leaving you with doubt, but Ellie holds you rather than a mutual embrace. 

She mumbles something quiet and unintelligible against your shirt but you won’t ignore her, so you nod along. You can feel a few tears seep through the fabric and onto your skin, and you think you know Ellie well enough, but she is already pulling away and standing up to leave you again. 

It’s not that you don’t know her, though. It’s just the situation. That fact is comforting.

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[someweirdoreblogger]

Burning Spice Cookie is passion ignited, albeit not in the moral side of the conscious spectrum. He is quite affectionate, actually, more than you may give him credit for.

Do not mistake it as humane, as a blind genosity. It comes not from a moral source of obligation or even gerenal priority.

Once the deranged loin-a Beast amongst monsters-the corrupted Lord himself is invested, your scent guiding freely through the droves, to shake him off your trail will prove diffcult. Burning Spice is not so kind to let prey go by unscathed, untouched by his mighty axe; His shadow stalks the trees, quaking, a deafening roar booms in the distance.

The Hunt begins.

You dare infringe upon his heart, you invade his senses, scrabble his thoughts; you really think you can simply crawl back home unscathed?

What home have you to turn too? Who would even think to take you back with the mark of a Beast weighing down your back?

Luckily, this debt can be paid. Paid solely by your own parry and peril. Burning Spice will remember your tracks better than the back of his own hand.

Once he comes, just an arrogant march away, you will know. The world itself will alert, not you, but itself to his sudden existence.

The birds will cease their music, the ground will shake and stumble; struggling to keep its foundation stable and lively. The lakes, far and wide, the sky, the kisses of clouds and weak leaves rip itself apart, dancing in the reflection below. It ripens in sheer unbalanced tension, seemingly frightened; the water will ripple like static, wavering under a wave of immense, exotic shock, and pressure.

The wind is ecstatic, nature's personal enthusiasm; it moans, groans, and sighs heavy in your ear. Desperate to be heard.

You will taste him in the air, a suffocating sulfur and ghastly spice, it threatens to choke weaker beings. Feel him fester like sparks on your crust, hair standing up stiff, dough throbbing. Tingling and blazing hot, a Beast's presence is a neigh-suffocating weight. You will never know peace until he deems you worthy of such.

Burning Spice roams triumphant, forever hungry. An immovable glare in the sky, a blinding scorch to the people's merger eyes, looking down civilization in cold indifference; The same way a god regurds his subjects. Just ants, peasy insects, building their anthills, simply hoping to piece together a safe haven for themselves in a universe far too large to tackle alone.

The Vitue of Change, The Lord of Destruction, will stand tall alone. Boundless from any chain as mortals rise, spoil and fall. A proud witness to the beginning, present, and the end, the natural tides of history sow in the seeds of devastation he leaves behind. He is a slave to his base desires, as all Cookies are; a chaotic harbinger of endless malice and merciless strife.

But he is still yet a man. A heartless monster in a man's skin. A Cookie baked in the same oven as his fellow kin, a great Beast, seeking to completely deprive himself of sheer boredom and simplicity.

All immortals carry the burden, the smooth erosion of time is not lost even to Beasts, as the ocean inevitably swipes a wet hand over the sand. He lives long and simply withstands, and he stares at the lesser mass in a bubbling, volcanic envy, hanging loose like a knot on his shoulders; the deeper things, the pleasant things. The majority of it stems from an infectious curiosity, aching hunger boiling in the depths of a Beast.

An unstoppable force suspended in a space completely at its mercy.

Burning Spice, gerenally, is an incredibly expressive person; entertainment, living life to the fullest drives his very soul off the edge of madness and carnage. His being is a godly sight to behold, and he wears this infernal arrogance in fine silks and peakish sneers. The weak tremble beneath the heel of their superiors, the Beast of Destruction is bloody pride embodied.

And this God, this Beast will strave for your worship; shall rip it from the dying, rotting hands of the torn world.

Carnal, burnt crimson in abhorrent brutality, Burning Spice is honestly an upfront sort. He won’t shy away from confrontation, solemn. He knows what he needs, what he wants, so he will steal it if one ever dares refuse it from him.

What is inevitable is virtue, Burning Spice knows this in his very jam. He does hold some semblance of responsibility and honor, albeit it won’t make him any less immorally stubborn or hot-headed. He approaches a desired interest alike how a lion stalks his prey; the same way he approaches a potential hunt, with fierce, burning determination and endless persistence.

[xoxorory]

You're Going to Make It Up to Me ! (Or Should I Remind You?)

Pairing: Percy Jackson x Daughter of Aphrodite!Reader + cabin councilor Genre: Humor | Fluff | +18 (light, suggestive) Word Count: ~3000 POV: Second person Warning: English si not my 1st lenguage lol

The week had been a mess. Between the jealousy fight in your cabin, the stolen makeup drama, and the existential crisis of a demigod who swore he was in love with a tree nymph (again), you hadn't had a second to breathe. Let alone see your boyfriend.

Yes. Your boyfriend. Percy Jackson, the one and only son of Poseidon, your personal merman with eyes greener than the Caribbean waters and a smile capable of disarming you faster than a celestial sword.

And you had neglected him.

A lot.

So much that right now, he was leaning against the door of Cabin 10, arms crossed, his wet shirt sticking to his chest (he'd probably just been swimming), and an eyebrow arched, screaming: "We need to talk, princess."

—"Hey, Percy..." —you said, knowing exactly which face to put on. Slightly parted lips, big eyes, that guilty puppy dog look. The full Aphrodite daughter combo.

It didn't work.

—"Hey? Is that all you have to say after a week without seeing me?" —his tone wasn't really annoyed. More like... playful. And that was even more dangerous.

—"I've been busy," —you replied, trying to slip past him, but he didn’t move.

—"Busy ignoring me, yes." —He leaned a little closer, his voice now lower—. "But don’t worry. I have ideas for you to make it up to me."

And there it was. That spark in his eyes. Mischievous. Provocative. Totally Percy.

—"Ideas?" —you asked, smiling with a mix of nervousness and anticipation.

—"Oh, yes. Several. But let's start simple. A date. Now."

—"Now? Percy, I have to help Lila find her lost gloss and then help Drew with—"

He grabbed your wrist, gentle but firm. That way you knew he wasn’t forcing you, but he definitely wasn’t going to let go until you gave in.

—"Drew can survive without you." —He winked—. "I can’t."

You huffed. Dramatically, of course.

—"Fine," —you said, letting him guide you—. "But only because you look really good wet."

—"Oh yeah?" —He smirked—. "Then get ready, because that's not the only thing that's going to be wet tonight."

You blushed, playfully hitting him on the arm.

—"Percy!"

—"What? Me? Innocent."

Liar. Liar with abs.

Twenty minutes later, you're sitting by the lake with Percy. He had brought food stolen from the mess hall (because, according to him, "a date is a date"), and you had given in faster than you'd like to admit.

The moon reflected on the water, and the vibe was definitely "this is going to end with someone soaked."

—"You know?" —you say while biting a grape—. "You make me feel guilty for neglecting you."

—"That's because you should feel guilty." —He pretended to be offended—. "Your boyfriend, incredible, handsome, world-saver, abandoned. Like a merman on the sand."

—"Gods, you're dramatic."

—"You put me with kids from Apollo, and I get their theatrical tendencies."

—"What if I make it up to you with a kiss?" —you ask, leaning in a bit.

—"One? That barely covers Monday."

You smile and kiss him.

Slowly.

Intentionally.

His lips are soft, but the kiss isn’t. His hands go to your waist, and before you know it, you're sitting on his lap. When he pulls away, he has that half-lost, half-fired-up look that you love.

—"Okay. That covers Monday and Tuesday. But there are still five days left."

—"Five? Weren’t there only three?"

—"I multiply by emotional intensity."

—"You’re making up rules."

—"I’m a demigod. That’s what we do."

You laugh, and before you can respond, Percy leans in and kisses your neck. Not a chaste kiss. A slow, deliberate one. And your body reacts instantly.

—"Percy..." —you whisper, but even you aren't convinced that you want to stop him.

—"Sshh" —he says against your skin—. "I told you I had ideas."

His hand slides up under your shirt, caressing your back. His fingers are cold, as if they still have remnants of lake water, and the contrast with your warm skin makes you shiver.

Your lips meet again, and this time, there’s no subtlety. Your hands tangle in his wet hair as he pulls you closer, as if trying to merge with you.

The idea doesn't disgust you.

Not at all.

But you're at camp.

Outdoors.

—"Percy... we're in public."

—"Behind the biggest tree by the lake. No one comes here at this hour."

—"You’re a mess."

—"And you love me."

And of course, you did.

How could you not love someone who knew all your weak spots... and used them to make you laugh, sigh, and curse at the same time?

—"One more minute," —you murmur, resting your forehead on his shoulder.

—"All the time you want, princess."

The next day, you return to your cabin with your hair a mess, marks on your neck (thank the gods, they’re discreet), and a stupid grin that Drew doesn’t take long to notice.

—"You went to 'check inventory' with Percy, didn’t you?"

—"I have no idea what you’re talking about."

—"You have the same look on your face as when your first Chanel gloss arrived."

You smile, biting your lip.

—"Maybe... I was just making up for a lost week."

—"Oh, honey," —Drew says with a wink—. "Judging by your face, he made it up to you too."

And yes.

He did.

With interest.

Not my best work to be honest,but i really wanted to post it