#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

Get Free 10 pages MTMEVE00570G_246_0001 – 1K GIGI Prompts Collections – Serene Sunset, Beach, Pier, and Reflections 5982 10PagesDownload 1K GIGI Prompts Collections ‘Serene Sunset: Beach, Pier, and Reflections’ 5982 series provides two documents, one document is 10 pages of prompts in 1000 pages, available for free download. One document is the complete 1000 pages of prompts, this is a paid…

[urcoolgf]

BEACH DAY

pairing. bf¡rafe && reader

content. fluff

summary. you and rafe take a day trip to his favorite beach and 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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© 𝐔𝐑𝐂𝐎𝐎𝐋𝐆𝐅. est. 2025

[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.

[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.

——

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 🤭😮‍💨

[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.

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.

…

[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

[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.

[loonarmuunar]

Hey I did some speculation on the forgotten island’s geography..!!!! If you want you can use this for writing purposes perhaps. I dunno

Things that have been confirmed in game or otherwise:

island is north of Vaugarde. We can see in the map that most mentioned countries are very close to the equator, but the island is the closest.

It has TALL MOUNTAINS and BLACK SAND. This is IMPORTANT!!!

ANDDDD the country is really hot during the day and cold at night.

(Also the island is inspired by guadeloupe but I won’t be pulling anything from there)

Equator: the island is going to be hot, of course. It’s… honestly a toss up as to how humid the island would be. winds would also have an impact on this. It just depends. Lush, humid island, or dusty, dry island. You can pick your favorite! I like a very pretty green island…

All noted countries in the game (aside from ka bue) are close enough to the equator to be impacted by the tropical rain belt! (Which… isat planet *should* have? It would be strange if it didn’t.) Since the country is south of the equator, from October to March they would have a wet season, and a dry season for the rest of the year.

Mountains: depending on how big and tall the mountains are, there may or may not be a rain shadow? I think winds also have an impact on this… I like to imagine the islands mountains as very very tall! “Closer” to the stars, if you will. Anyways, there could be a desert or shrub-land or something like that on part of the island. Do what you want with this.

Flora and fauna: because of island syndrome (island species are smaller) we can guess that if the island has any species native to the island, they’re somewhat smaller to their mainland counterparts. I also don’t think the island would have large native predators. Islands can cook up some strange things! Might have some interesting kinds of plants and animals…

Black sands: two possibilities… actually three?

1. Placer deposit. Placer deposits are collections of (valuable) minerals from a specific source rock. You know those streaks of black sand you might find at the beach? Those are placers. You CAN have a beach that is entirely placers!

2. Volcanoes! Basalt, self explanatory. This is popular, especially since it can tie into the mountains, but… I’m not a fan. I’m REALLY not a fan! See, these kinds of black sand beaches are usually short lived. Hawai’i keeps their black sand beaches by making it illegal to remove the sand. If you want your island to have black sands from lava, you could say they have frequent eruptions, or nobody can take the sand, orr the currents replenish the black sands back.

3. Wish did it.

I lean towards placers because that’s the easiest answer to me.

Culture and economy: oh man there could be a lot of money in selling off the theoretical island native plants and animals. Not saying that’s good or bad… but there’d be money in it!

In tropical mountainous regions it’s more common for people to live in higher regions, BUT I think being so close to so many other countries would make it more profitable for some to live on the lower coast, where ships are going to be coming in and out.

There’s going to be more money rolling around on the coast, would probably be more urban to suit all the people coming in and out. All the people coming by also means that they’re going to be bringing over different beliefs, practices, etc etc. They’d be more accepting, and open to new things. If Siffrin was living on the coast, they would be a city kid!

Meanwhile those who stick to the higher ground would have more rural communities. Could possibly even be more faithful to the Universe belief? Closer to the stars, and farther away from all the foreigners on the coast, they’re going to have less exposure to different cultures and beliefs. They may be more stiff in their beliefs, and possibly more faithful. At least, in their eyes maybe?

The darkness of the sands, the sea, the sky….. seeing the moon and stars reflected in the water….. you get it you understand. I think living in this specific area didn’t necessarily CAUSE the universe belief, but I do think it made them more pre-disposed to possibly having a connection to the stars and sky.

[clone-futon]

「 Fireworks 」

Phew, finally I can do something for them on this day! 🥹🙏🏻

I was actually going to throw away the first sketch of this because I was desperate and didn't know how to color, (I still think it's not in its best state) but at least I'm glad I didn't do that.

And I also tried to write something too, again, probably, using gg trans- but whatever, enjoy :'Db

__________________________________

"Hey, kid, what are you doing here?"

The familiar voice rang out between the crashing waves, carrying its usual amusement. Conan didn’t need to turn around—he knew exactly who it was.

"Fireworks," he replied curtly, igniting a sparkler and watching golden sparks dance in the salty breeze.

Behind him, Kaito Kid approached slowly, his shoes already off, leaving messy footprints on the damp sand. His signature white cape fluttered in the humid sea breeze, though the heavy moisture seemed to try and drag it down. The thief didn’t seem to mind, only glancing at the bag of fireworks beside Conan with curious eyes.

"Wanna join?" Conan held out a bundle of sparklers toward Kid.

The thief chuckled softly, a mischievous glint flashing in his eyes "You saved some for me, huh?"

"You snooze, you lose. You'd better hurry before I light them all myself."

"Now, now—there’s no way I’d let you hog all the fun." Kid stepped forward, pulling out a small sparkler. The crinkling sound of the paper wrapper blended with the endless rhythm of the waves.

Conan sat down, shielding the small flame as he lit another firework. The first burst of light illuminated both their faces.

"That thing’s gonna get wet," Conan remarked, eyeing the edge of Kid’s white cape dangerously close to the surf.

Kid shrugged, unconcerned. "Nah, it'll be fine—"

The wind shifted. A sudden wave crashed onto the shore, sending a thin mist spraying into the air. Kid blinked in surprise as a few cold droplets hit his cheek, while Conan merely raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

"Yeah, sure, fine."

Without hesitation, Conan reached over, grabbed a handful of the thief’s cape, and tied it into a knot to keep it from trailing on the wet sand.

Kid blinked down at him. "Hey, you—"

"I told you, but you didn’t listen." Conan pulled the knot tight, making sure it held. "Watching you struggle with that thing was getting annoying." His tone was completely casual, as if this was the most natural thing in the world.

Kid sighed but made no move to undo the knot. Instead, he sat beside Conan, twirling a sparkler between his fingers.

The second firework flared to life, golden sparks flickering against the night. Kid walked closer to the shoreline, his bare feet sinking slightly into the damp sand as the light reflected off the waves, creating dazzling streaks of gold.

He stared at the sight for a moment, something unreadable flickering in his eyes, before turning his attention back to Conan. Under the wavering glow, the detective’s expression looked more relaxed than usual, the reflections in his glasses shimmering like tiny stars.

The waves crept closer.

"Uh, Meitantei? You might wanna step back a bit..." Kid said, a smirk playing at his lips.

"That trick won’t work on me." Conan muttered, shifting slightly but refusing to move too much.

Another wave rolled in—faster, stronger.

Neither of them reacted in time.

The freezing water surged forward, climbing higher than they expected, soaking Conan’s shoes and pants, and completely drenching Kid’s pristine white suit. The sparklers in their hands flickered desperately before dying out.

They stood still for a moment. Then—

"The fireworks... went out."

"Obviously."

"I told you, but you didn't listen." Kid parroted Conan’s words from five minutes ago.

"...This is gonna be a pain," Conan groaned.

Kid glanced down at himself—his coat clung to his body, his hat dripping water down his nose. "Well... now we’re both soaked." Then he laughed.

Conan sighed, shaking his shoes in vain to rid them of water. "You owe me a hot drink after this."

"Happily."

And so, under the night sky, with the waves lapping at their feet and the cold seeping into their clothes, neither of them seemed in a hurry to leave. They lit another firework—after all, the night was still young.

"Happy April Fools', Meitantei."

Conan huffed, but the corner of his lips curled up. "Yeah. Same to you, magician."

Neither of them planned on leaving anytime soon.

[riekirei]

fan favorite— nishimura riki

you and riki, the iconic duo, were inseparable. your friendship was so loved in public, but it was something more in private.

pairing: idol!riki x 8th member!fmr | genre(s): fluff | content/warning: they kiss like once, riki teases reader and vice versa

[requested]

word count: 1.2k

author’s note: been insanely inactive but wtv, here’s something i wrote recently. hope u enjoy reading this! likes n reblogs r highly appreciated. not proofread

you step out of the van with the beaming sun rays hitting your face, the smell of the easing ocean breeze, and the sounds of the crashing waves filling the area. you pull your digital camera out of your bag that hung just by your shoulder. you try taking a picture of the bright summer sun that shined that day, but it was way too bright for you to see. you squint your eyes to the sun’s light that nearly blinded you when a hand’s shadow appeared from behind, hovering over your eyes to shield it from the light. it was riki, he had just gotten out of the van after you. “blinding lights, blinding lights~” (blind - enhypen) he sang as he watched you take pictures with the help of his hand preventing the sun from glaring at you. “hey!! since when have you gone down the car?” you asked him, wondering how fast he’d came as you expected him to take longer. 

you were at a beach for your new album’s concept photos, just like dimension dilemma (i guess it’s associated with the group’s storyline) and the makeup artists and stylists had just fixed your hair and makeup in the van before arriving at the beach. riki was up next to get his hair and makeup done, but he apparently was done? “did they not do your makeup or something?” you added onto your question from earlier. “they didn’t do my hair. probably the style they wanted for this album was something like this” riki replied. “you look good either way sooo” you told him, tucking his dark hair into his ear.

just a moment after, a camera panned towards the place you and riki stood. it was the staff shooting behind the scenes content for them to post on the official youtube channel. you snap out of the conversation you were previously having with riki and face the camera lens that was right in front of you. “hello engene!! today we’re at the beach and we’ll be taking some photos for our upcoming album” you say, making your way through the hot sand, towards the shore. riki follows shortly behind you. the camera films the both of you walking before you come across an area with countless seashells, laid out on the ground. it was quite a rough surface to be walking on so as you stepped on it, you tripped, slightly slipping your body forward. just as you were about to fall, riki’s grabbed your wrist and made sure to carefully support the other side of your torso from hitting the ground. he helped you get on your feet again. “guys y/n’s feeling silly” he says to the camera, laughing at what just happened. “engene, it was ni-ki’s fault, right? he pushed me” (he didn’t hsjahs) you jokingly said. “he pushed me!!!” you added. “nahhh, maybe its just a skill issue to be honest” he told you as you two bickered on camera for the nth time. 

you two found yourselves before the shore, watching the still water reflect the sky as waves came in. you went on your knees to draw doodles and words on the damp white sand. you drew a huge heart with the word ‘engene’ written in the middle. the camera captured the pretty sight before it shifted to what riki was doing. he was standing right where the waves met the shore, the water smoothly gliding on the sand. riki scooped some wet sand, combining it with some drier sand to create a ball. he shaped it with the palms of his hand and set them down to form a pile of multiple sand balls.

“what’s tha-“ you questioned riki before he picked one up and threw one at you. the firm sand ball flew its way towards you, crumbling to pieces as it came into contact with your body. riki bursts out laughing as he sees the mundane look you had on your face. “ha ha, ni-ki. you’re like so funny!” you say sarcastically. you try holding your laughter as you watched riki snicker. he walked back towards the other direction to form more sand balls.

while he wasn’t looking, you bent down over, grabbing a portion of sand that was laid out on the beach. you compressed the grains of sand together to form a sand ball yourself. 

“ni-ki!! look over here!!” you called out, having a plan in mind. just as he turned in your direction, you projected the sand ball right at him, hitting him on his arm. “HEY” riki shouted. 

oh you knew you were done for. like deadass, you were DONE for.

you quickly sprinted away from riki as he chased you across the beach. you stepped into the shallow water, trying to catch a hold of your breath while feeling the cool, relaxing sensation the flowing water had that came in contact with your feet. riki had finally caught up, stepping into the water as well. he wrapped his arms around you, tightly embracing you. “try escaping me now” riki said. “NI-KIII, LET ME GOO!!!” you exclaimed, swinging your body from left to right, attempting to escape him. 

you extended your arm, reaching for riki’s waist. you begun tickling him as you two giggle. he uncontrollably laughed at the tickle he felt. he tries pushing you off of him when you playfully nudge him too, not knowing how strong you had pushed him.

riki fell into the water, getting his outfit wet. “YOU THINK I’M THE ONLY ONE FALLING IN?” he said with a big grin on his face. he grabbed your wrist, pulling you down as you made a splash, landing right next to him. you two sat there and died laughing at what had happened. all this bantering was caught on camera for ENGENEs to watch. they adored the bond you and riki had. they’d make edits, compilations, and several posts about ‘y/n-ki’ and the endearing moments you two had.

you got up, slowly running away from riki who still hadn’t gotten up yet. “Y/N HELP ME UP, I CAN’T- Y/N!!” riki yelled. you looked back and tittered at the sight of riki struggling to get up. “hmmmm what about…. no!” you reply. “OKAY SO YOU DON’T LOVE ME ANYMORE” he responded in a sulky tone. he crossed his arms and pouted his lips. “OKAY!!! I GUESS-“ riki continued before you ran towards his direction, finally giving in and helping the poor boy up. “I’LL HELP YOU UP, OKAY? RELAX PRINCESS ARIEL” you teased riki. “whatever, bro” he said, jokingly giving you a side eye.

the sun set as you and riki spent time with each other at the beach, along with the other members. the cameras cut and the staff called it a day, allowing you all to relax and clear your heads before getting back onto the ride home. you both walked a distance far enough for no one to be able to catch sight of you two. you and riki sat on the sand, feet buried in it. you rested your head on his shoulder while you two stare into the horizon before you. “it’s almost just as pretty as you” riki said as he let out a chuckle. “really?” you reply, lifting your head from his shoulder to look him in the eye. “mhm” he said, slightly nodding his head. you smiled and leaned in to give him a peck on the lips. 

the chemistry between the two of you was good, maybe a lil too good. and the fan favorite duo were great friends on and off cam, maybe a lil more than friends too.

[clawsdevour]

treasure map

wc: 2.1k content warning: post-time skip, established relationship, hinata x reader, hc that hinata loves tanlines, face fuck, smut, fingering, kitchen sex, not proofread

𓂂 ْ メ𓈒༷

Back from your afternoon swim, you are completely red and throbbing due to the radiating sun that resonated throughout your entire body. Laying back down on your dry and somewhat gritty towel due to the sand, you rested momentarily before taking off to get back home for lunch.

Kicking off your sandals, rushing to get to the shower to get rid of the sticky and salty sea water from your pinkish skin. Your husband, Hinata Shoyo, is surprisingly home early from his beach volleyball practice with his team. His head turned from the kitchen counter upon your entrance seeing how burnt your skin became from one afternoon swimming session.

The nice cool shower made your skin immediately feel relieved as it felt like the throbbing pain was sizzled off despite your new appearance. Doing your usual everything shower routine to feel clean once more before hopping out with a towel covering your entire being. Hair slicked back, damp with the fresh cold water. You steadily open the glass door and step out, gripping onto the bathroom floormat in case you slip. 

Looking up from your toes, you see yourself staring back at you in the reflection. However, like mentioned, very sunburnt and still visibly red. Your untouched parts of your skin as you lowered your towel to use for your hair, showed you your protected areas of skin due to the straps of your bathing suit. The heat radiating, making you start to sweat the moment you settled down.

Quickly you started to dry your hair the best you could with the slightly already damp towel and throw on your clothes to get ready for your lunch with Hinata. Your wet hair was left to airdry while you put your towel back on the hook before heading out of the bathroom.

Walking out, the ginger’s eyes are lingering at your wet hair straight out of the shower. And lower, to your shoulders that showed him the lines left from your afternoon swim that was barely covered by your tank top.

“You’re burnt babe, how long did you swim?” Hinata’s beady eyes bore into you whilst heading towards you to check on the condition of your flesh. His fingertips rubbing gentle small circles on your nonburnt areas.

“Not that long.. it’ll be fine in a few days. Now let’s get some lunch Shoyo, I’m starving” locking your arm around his to lead him to the front door for some delicious food you was boutta devour the moment it’s set on your tablle.

Almost two days pass by, your red blistering skin starting to turn into a rich bronzy tan. You’ve noticed recently how Hinata’s been eyeing you more, making you wonder if something’s up. The tanlines grew more noticeable. That’s what drew him closer to you. It’s like looking for treasure with a treasure map to guide his imagination.

That night while you were cooking up a supper for the two of you, he couldn't help but stare at the tanline that rises upon your hips from your lowrise booty shorts that covered barely anything. Hinata’s shakey hands come out of nowhere to hug you from behind. If he can’t see what drew him to you, then he wouldn’t need to resist. Or so he thought. A large hand slithered its way up your top, cupping your right breast while catching you in surprise.

“You’re funny Shoyo. Food’s almost done, I know you’re hungry.” Of course you think this is his regular little tauntings whenever he sees you standing there cooking dinner and just looking all cute for him with those short shorts. You had no idea it was your bright tanlines that kept him on his toes for the past few days.

“Yeah, but I’m not hungry for food..” a hot breath tickles the crook of your ear, his increasing erection is slightly pressed against the crevice of your ass. You’re caught in a gasp before turning off the stove and putting on the lid. Playfully exchanging a snarky smirk with him.

His lips make its way to yours, starting off softly to passionately making his way into your mouth to explore everything you had in store for him. Turning around to face him, his hands are on your waist, sliding down to fondle your ass as if he was kneading dough. 

Pausing a moment to catch your breath, eyes staring directly into each other. Hot and steamy breaths were exchanged between you two before you wrapped your arms around his muscular neck. Jumping into his arms, you continue to pepper his face with your gentle kisses while he’s carrying you up onto the cold kitchen counter. Hinata couldn’t care less about where he fucked you numb, as long as he’s able to explore where that tanline led him to.

The moment he laid you on your back was when he completely tore off your shorts and threw it behind him, leaving you a bit shook even though it barely covered your ass anyway. While you closed your knees shut from humiliation, he parted them open like the red sea for all his eyes to gawk on.

“Ha.. you embarrassed?” a snicker appearing on his face while he huffed in excitement. His fingers reach to circle your clit, pussy already glistening from all the intimate kissing. His eyes are taking in the scene of your attractive swimsuit tanline that marked down where your leaking pussy was, dick pressing against his pants more than ever.

Stripping off your remaining top, your bright nipples perk up due to the chilled air in your house. Hinata’s scanning every inch of your body in satisfaction, increasing the speed in his fingers to stimulate you further before putting a digit in hearing you moan the moment he pressed a centimeter in. 

Your moans were as sweet as honey that resonated in his ears. He loves knowing how good he’s able to make you feel. He’s continuously going down knuckle deep into your gaping hole that yearned for more. Adding in another finger for your pleasure, he’s going ham while watching your expressions twist for only his eyes to watch.

“Kiss me Shoyo..” arms up to reach for him, to which he obliged. He’s plummeting two fingers into your sopping wet cunt, each thrust a little more powerful than the previous. Moaning into the kiss due to the pleasure, Hinata can’t take it anymore. The built up tent in his pants was so frustrating he could tear off his shorts that instant.

He’s pulling away, leaving you whining for more of his touch. Fingers out of you as well to hastily take off his t-shirt, showing you his rippling complexion from the extensive beach volleyball training. His broad shoulders also showing a tanline from his usual sports tank tops. His fingers reach for his waist band until you stopped him with your hands. 

“Let me do it too, I can’t have you doing all the work” pouting in annoyance, his hands move to his sides in approval while you pull his shorts down. His erection was standing nice and tall all whilst staring back at you, leaving your mouth salivating.

Your lips hover over his angry tip, licking off the precum while he lets out a small whimper of satisfaction from the foreign sensation your tongue created. His cute reactions make you feel delighted as you started to go down on his length, watching him try to resist. The warm and wet feeling floods him all over, breathing quivering from all the stimulation. Ginger locks of hair tilted back to take in all of the pleasure you’re giving him.

You’re going at your own pace, squelching noises and groans were made. Until you felt his fingers grip onto your head, helping you articulate to further satisfy him. Hinata was so close, but had to endure cumming before you did.

Tears started to form in your eyes whenever his tip hit the back of your throat, essentially leaving a bruise left to be healed. Your delicate fingers have a deafening grip on his hips while he starts to thrust into your mouth, making you lose all control. 

Biting into his lower lip, he’s slowing down his thrusts until he pulls out. Clear but foamy strings followed his dick while he created heated distance between you two. Your eyes are groggy with tears, trying to recover after his rough face fucking that you know you both enjoyed. 

“You look so pretty like this.” Hinata’s caressing your cheeks, wiping the tears off your flushed red face. He’s helping you up before sitting you down on the kitchen counter again.

Spreading your legs open for him, you urge him to enter. You couldn’t wait any longer. Slick collected upon his entrance, you squint your eyes feeling him attempt to slide in. Your walls having to adjust to his girth, stretching it to mold his cock like your pussy was his.

When Hinata’s all situated inside you, he’s gradually thrusting while increasing his speed. Soon the loud skin on skin slapping noises began. His fingers are tracing over the tanlines on your shoulder, lips kissing the surface of your bronze skin.

“So good Shoyo..!” praising him while your plush walls clamp tight on his delicious size, hands trying to grab onto the edge of the counter with each deep plunge. His poundings weren’t just fast paced, but they grew deeper within each thrust, trying to explore your insides like a cave.

He was out of his mind, as if he was drunk off your pussy. The super visible tanlines drew him into a perverted frenzy trying to see what it’d look like without your clothes teasing him. He couldn’t help himself, nor his painful erection that grew more with the thought of you just getting undressed. The sight of your tan skin, divided by your regular skin tone like you had on your swimsuit was such an erotic sight he had in mind. Fucking you like this drove him absolutely crazy.

When he found your sweet spot, it was over for you. The moment his tip pressed against it in discovery was when Hinata started to thrust into it with all of his remaining might. You became a moaning mess while it echoed off your kitchen walls, legs starting to squirm around his broad and muscular figure. The heat pooling up at the pits of your stomach, soon to erupt like a volcano when it was at its peak.

“M’gonna c-cum..” you panted out between tired and high pitched whimpers. Your half lidded gaze ended up with your eyes being rolled back when it happened, seeing white.

You came so hard it was as if you started to see sparks of the hot molten lava fly in the air whenever a volcano would erupt. Hinata’s slowing down his pace after you’ve creamed all over his cock, a white rim of froth forming on the base of his girth. His fingers latch onto your nipple, flicking it around to tease you, testing if you’re able to go for another round. 

“We’re not done yet. I need to cum too.” His golden brown eyes watching you with a big smirk plastered on his lips. 

Moving his fingers lower, he’s back to playing with your swollen clit once again. Small and sensational circles was the way to go. You’re twitching with every slow but gaping thrust he’s continuously plunging into you, creating that build up that was able to match with his stamina.

He’s been holding back for so long, but he wants to keep going so bad. 

Unfortunately he’s peaked his high. Whipping it out right before he was about to cum inside, but he wouldn’t let that happen without your decision. His cock glistening from your juices, spraying its gooey white strips onto your tanlines, coating you in his essence. You’re watching him stroke his cock further while he’s emptying his load onto you, head tilted groaning out in contentness. You’re sprawled out on the couch yearning for the cold air to hit your face.

Despite you being all covered in his own cum, Hinata’s not afraid to let his body collapse on you even for a brief moment. Essentially, somewhat giving you an intimate hug with all his left over power he was able to muster. His fluffy ginger hair in the crook of your neck, peering up at you. His sleepy brown eyes make contact with yours while he’s mumbling into your neck.

“Have to explore every inch of you next time.”

masterlist here

[redpill-tfs]

Pranked Ya, Bro

Max had always prided himself on his sharp wit, preppy style, and deep analytical mind. A freshman at Whitmore University, he spent most of his time buried in textbooks, debating politics in his dorm’s common area, and meticulously planning his future. He had ambitions—big ones. Maybe law school, maybe politics, something to make a difference in the world and improve people's lives. But on April Fool’s Day, all of that was about to change.

It happened as he was walking back to his dorm, his navy blazer and khakis neatly pressed, his brown loafers clicking against the pavement. Out of nowhere, something cold and wet smacked him in the back.

SPLASH!

He gasped, feeling the shock of icy water soak through his clothes. A burst of laughter erupted from behind him. Whipping around, he saw the culprit—a broad-shouldered, backward-hat-wearing frat boy from Beta Delta Omega, the most notoriously conservative fraternity on campus.

“Pranked ya, bro!” the guy hooted, tossing another water balloon up and down in his hand before running off to find his next victim.

Max scowled and shook his head, wringing out his wet sleeves as he tried to fight the tears forming in his eyes and the red flush in his cheeks in his embarrassment. “Idiots,” he muttered, hurrying inside his dorm. He needed to change before he caught a cold.

As soon as he shut the door, an odd sensation washed over him. His limbs trembled, heat coursing through his veins. He stumbled, gripping his desk for balance as his reflection in the mirror swam before his eyes.

“W-what’s happening?” he stammered. His voice cracked—deepened.

His arms bulged, muscles swelling beneath his skin, tearing through the tailored sleeves of his blazer. His legs thickened, his khakis warping into a pair of gym shorts as his loafers melted into battered white sneakers. His once-trim waist widened, his chest expanded, and a tight-fitting tank top emblazoned with an American flag stretched over his growing frame. A red baseball cap materialized on his head, the brim curling slightly upward as bold white letters appeared across the front: MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN.

Max groaned, gripping his head as if he could hold onto his old self, but the thoughts—the sharp, meticulous thoughts—blurred. Concepts like economic policy, climate change, and political philosophy turned to static in his mind, slipping away like sand through his fingers. New ideas replaced them—hazing pledges, chugging beers, pulling epic pranks, and making sure everyone knew who the real Americans were.

His reflection changed further—his face looking more rugged, his neatly trimmed brown hair growing messier, styled almost effortlessly. The scholarly look in his eyes faded, replaced by an easygoing, almost vacant confidence. He was a top dog, and everyone would know it and get out of his way.

His lips curled into a dumb smirk. “Aw, hell yeah, bro.”

He caught sight of his phone vibrating on his desk. Grabbing it, he found messages in the Beta Delta Omega group chat—somehow, he was already in it. But of course he was. Why would he be in the frat's chat? He'd rushed last semester and earned his way in.

BRODY: Yo, we got another one? 

CHAD: LOL welcome to the brotherhood, dude. 

BRODY: Get over here. We got more balloons to throw at nerds.

Mack flexed his newly thick arms before throwing on a pair of sunglasses. College wasn’t about studying and debating. Nah, bro. It was about living it up, making sure those geeky losers and sissy libs knew who really ruled the campus.

Mack gave the dorm a confused look? Why was he here and not back at the frat? He sure was mindless sometimes. Maybe he'd found some hot blonde chick to bang real quick and fill with his alpha seed. Anyway, he needed to get back. The frat needed all hands on deck for the epic prank goin on.

With a low chuckle, Mack turned off the lights and strolled out, his mind empty of everything but the thrill of the fun times ahead, both with his bros and the sorority chicks after practice.