#this reader has been infected by Loving The Ocean So So Much

[sirowsky-stories]

For The Love Of A Grump

Summary: Pero reflects on how you made his birthday the best it possibly could've been.

Requested by @chaoticfestninja

Rating: General/Everyone Warnings: Pero Tovar x female reader, but told from Pero's pov. As always, my Pero has issues with self-worth, but this story is a positive one, focused on his perspective of being loved. Word Count: 900

   He’d asked you to keep it small, and you had. But you’d also made it enormous, somehow managing to incorporate the entire world into the intimate celebration, and for the life of him, he’s never known how you do those things.

   Dragging him out of bed first thing in the morning, almost before the sun had even risen, he’d grumbled at you, truly feeling upset that you hadn’t let him sleep in, or even wished him happy birthday before ordering him to get dressed and hauling him out to the car.

   The drive had been long and listening to your upbeat sing-along with your favorite pop music radio station, had eventually worn him down and made him laugh.    He’d never been able to resist your joyous energy and the way you seemed so unaffected by his general grumpiness.

   It was exactly what had eventually convinced him he’d already fallen for you, that day in the pouring rain two years ago, when he’d gotten angry with you for not even letting the autumn weather get to you. As if that could ever be a bad thing.

   That was the moment it had dawned on him, the only reason he would’ve been so upset was if he hadn’t wanted your positivity to infect him. But it already had, and he was already lost in it by then, craving it so badly it had frightened him into trying to scare you away.

   You’d been immune to his mood swings from the start, never backing down no matter how terribly he’d treated you, and so impossibly elated whenever he’d showed you even a hint of happiness, that your very skin had seemed to shine with your joy.

   He’d loved you long before he’d been able to understand it, but you’d known from the moment you’d met him, and you’d been determined to help him see it.

   He trusts you beyond all reason, which was why he’d kept his mouth shut that morning in the car, not letting himself gripe at you. He knows better. You had a plan, and whatever it was, he’d be stupid to interfere with it.

   The beach had been deserted that time in the morning, the ocean calm and pink in the first light of the day. Growing up far from the coast, he’d always been enchanted by the sea, drawn to it and calmed by it, so you’d brought him there to start the day off in the best possible way.

   Breakfast on a blanket in the sand, followed by soothing cuddles and soft kisses, while the waves had begun to gently roll against the land. You’d let him doze off in your arms, giving him back the desired sleep-in you’d robbed him of earlier.

   Getting back in car, you hadn’t brought him home, but instead taken him on a remembrance tour of your relationship, driving past all the places where you could recall something significant happening between you, and it had amazed him how much you’d held onto. Especially all the bad, which you somehow managed to see the positives of.

   The next stop had been his favorite lunch diner, where you’d made sure the staff had treated him to their birthday special, complete with a song and dance routine which had left him laughing with equal parts embarrassment and delight.

   But it was the afternoon which had really taken him to a sense of wonder, as you’d borrowed a pair of horses and taken him on a cross-country ride which had lasted until nightfall, over giant plains, mountains, rivers, and which had seen the two of you cook dinner over an open fire.

   And even though you’d been all alone, not seeing another person for the duration of the journey, the vast sky above you, as well as the wonder of the natural features you’d navigated, had spoken to his heart about the connectivity of all things. From the distant sun, to the little bird which had taken refuge on his shoulder, under the brim of his hat, to escape the afternoon heat for a minute.

   Out there, he had been reminded of how small he is, but at the same time, how wonderous it is that one little person could’ve found his soulmate at all, within this chaotic and artfully crafted world.

   The evening had been spent among the sheets, where you’d allowed him to show you every nuance of his affection and desire for you, and it was only when his strength had finally run out and he’d tugged you into his arms to feel your stubbornly stoic and unfathomably kind heart beat against his ribs, that you’d finally wished him a happy birthday.

   Because you’d known, the same way you always know these things, that he would only hear the truth of your words once you’d already expressed them in every other way possible.

   Not because he doesn’t believe what you say, but simply because that’s how little he thinks of himself.

   You are the only proof he’s ever had, that his life and existence has any meaning. He lives for you and the joy he somehow gives you by merely being there.

   And as he falls asleep with you safely tucked against him, he thinks that one day he might be able to deserve your love. If he keeps letting you guide him.

   If he keeps letting your unbridled positivity infect him.

   Forever.

THE END

[creative-caramel-coffee]

Actually Asthmatic

Summary: Reader comes to work despite being sick and pepper makes sure you’re ok.

TW: asthma, fever, overworking, sickness lol

Pairing: pepper x Platonic!Reader

Words: 2.5K

A/n Part two coming soon (part two will have natty and wands >:). Also, so much has happened since I posted last and I’m so sorry it’s taken this long. I’ve been super busy with uni. But… I got a girlfriend :) I also have a ton of uni work I have to keep up with and I have like no time for anything now. But I will do my best to keep writing. So expect my updates to be a bit more spaced but I’m NOT giving up on this account :)

Living in a dorm was an interesting thing. You had a room, kitchen and bathroom to yourself, but it was lonely.

You knew you were in for a rough time when your lab partner came to a lecture sick. Not only that, but they were coughing … a lot. You knew no matter how hard you tried you were bound to get sick and mentally you resigned yourself to your new fate.

Lo and behold the next day your throat hurt, but it was manageable. Another day passes and your head had begun to feel like it was stuffed with cotton. A truely lovely experience. To make matters even better, you had three classes and work today. Your shift at stark industries was something you couldn’t miss even if you wanted to.

Pepper was coming to check on your branch of the company and you needed to be able to show her the numbers at the meeting you were both attending. You needed to prove it hasn’t been a mistake to hire a collage student with crippling debt and insomnia to run a branch of what was probably the most successful company in New York if not the world.

You flipped the page on your textbook and bit back a sigh. There was still an hour left of class and the world seemed to be against you, time was moving slower, and it felt rather personal.

You rested your head on the table and tried to block out the droning of your collage professor, he was a great guy, but your head felt like it was being run over by a bus and your cheeks were warm and your fingers cold.

You must have drifted off at some point because before you knew it someone was nudging you. You groggily sat up and squinted into the light, a frown marring your face.

“Y/n/n, get up. Class is over.” It was one of your friends, you gave a half grunt and looked around.

The lecture hall was quickly emptying out and so you grabbed your bag and textbook and stood, swaying slightly.

“Whoa. You good?” Your friend asked and you nodded mumbling something about standing up too fast before beelining for the door.

You bid goodbye to your friend at the train station and boarded the tube that would take you to work.

It was about a five-minute walk from the train to stark industries, but the cold weather that threatened your lungs working in tandem with your asthma and what you were now beginning to think was the start of a nasty chest infection, made it seem like hours of hiking through the amazon after dark.

You adjusted the backpack on your shoulder and waited for the train to slow, the next stop was yours and despite it being the quiet carriage there was still the loud sound of train tracks passing under making your head feel like a drum being beaten by a tone-deaf monkey on steroids.

The train almost had pity on you as it slowed just as you thought the monkey had found an amp to make his music ‘better.’

You stumbled off the platform and hurried up the steps to the footpath. The crowd jostled you and you felt more than desire to just let the ocean of people sweep you out with the tide.

But you forged on. So did the monkey.

You must have looked like death incarnate by the time you arrived at the lobby. You were flushed at the very least and you could hear the wheezing in your breath as you took in air by the lungful.

You scanned your keycard once you had located it in the mess that was your backpack. Stepping into the clean white walls of stark industries made you feel like a racoon in an upper-class neighbourhood.

You made your way to the elevator that would take you to the board room and finally paused to catch your breath which was now just a string of wheezes. You knew that because the look the lady at the reception shot you was one that was a mix of concern, confusion and pity.

Your throat was raw, and your face was congested as well as your chest. You sounded like you swallowed a frog, and the frog was also now sick and subsequently congested.

When the lift arrived you thanked Stark, who was your own personal god that there was nobody else in it. You stepped in and lent against the railing after thumbing the button for your floor with what was probably more force than necessary.

You sat back against the cool metal bar and watched the numbers climb higher and higher as you approached the master board room which was also the same floor as peppers office. A place you rarely visited except when you had the quarterly board meeting like today.

As the lift pinged and the doors slide open smoothly you stepped off and gathered your bearings.

You caught sight of a door at the end of the hall with peppers name on it and smiled. She was also one of your own personal heroes. She worked like a horse and kicked ass like an avenger all while wearing heels and a smile that said, ‘don’t fuck with me before I’ve had my coffee’.

You navigated your way to the board room and cracked the door a bit. So far there were a few people in there and it was still early. You smiled at the unfamiliar faces and sat down.

You didn’t know any of them yet and so you kept to yourself as you and the others waited for pepper and the rest of the companies branch managers and board members to come in.

After a bit pepper entered looking as swauve and elegant as ever. She took her seat at the head of the table and took note of the empty chairs with a small frown.

“It seems some people are still absent, so we’ll wait for a bit until the numbers are more … concrete.” She said with a smile drawing a few laughs from around the room.

You kept your head down, but your eyes kept straying back to pepper.

After a few minutes of you being sat there doodling in your notepad, the meeting started.

You paid attention to most things but once you had presented your numbers you had more or less zoned out. At one point you caught pepper looking at you closely and decided to try and pay attention again.

But the meeting droned on and soon your chest felt tighter and tighter. Your face flushed with the effort of suppressing a cough. The wheeze that had left you in the elevator had seemingly returned and you were doing your best to keep it quiet.

Your eyes looked around the room for an escape and you caught pepper looking at you again. She looked worried.

‘Are you ok?’ She mouthed and you nodded but she looked unsure.

You decided to leave, just to step out for a moment to get some air and let your lungs do their thing.

You waited until all eyes were back on the man presenting before slipping out the door.

You beelined for the bathroom which were luckily empty with everyone currently on the floor in the meeting.

You braced yourself by placing your hands either side of the sink and let out a string of deep chesty coughs. The wheeze got worse, and you cursed yourself for leaving your asthma inhaler in your backpack in the board room.

The coughing still hadn’t ceased, and it seemed the attack was making it harder to catch your breath than normal.

You barely registered the door to the bathrooms being opened and the sound of high heels click across the floor in hurried steps.

You felt a hand press between your shoulder blades as someone drew slow circles on your back. Someone was telling you to breathe and you recognised the voice.

Pepper.

You felt something being pressed into your hands and looked down to find a glass of water.

You gratefully took a sip and found it soothed your throat pretty well.

After a second, the fit ended and you just had the wheeze to worry about.

“Are you alright?” Pepper asked looking worried and trying not to fuss over you.

You shot her a weak smile.

“I’m ok.” You grinned unconvincingly. She gave you a look you assumed tony often received and caved. “I’m sick.” You rasped.

“I’d have never guessed.” Pepper joked rolling her eyes and guided you by the shoulders out the door.

“Where are we going?” You asked still holding the water.

“Well, you need to rest, and the board can handle the rest of the meeting. I want you to get that cough looked at and i have some emails to check. So, we are going to my office, you are going to lie down and I’m going to get some work done.” Pepper said with a smile, and you looked at her like she had hung the stars in the sky.

“Thank you.” You mumbled.

“That’s quite alright honey.” She smiled and then her brow crinkled as if she just noticed your wheezing. Which spoiler alert… she had.

You avoided her eyes as she scrutinised you closely. After a second her pace slowed and yours matched it before she stepped in front of you and placed a hand on your chin. She tilted your head back to look at her and met your gaze with a motherly worried expression.

“You’re wheezing.” She noted.

“And you’re pepper potts.” You said back looking nervous.

“Yes.” She deadpanned in response. “Y/n, are you … asthmatic?” She asked and you looked away.

That was enough of a response for her as she sighed. “Wheres your puffer sweetie?”

“Back in my backpack in the meeting room.” You mumbled.

“Alright here’s what we are going to do. I’m going to get you set up in my office and then go and get your bag for you.” She said and resumed her pace to her office.

When she arrived, she scanned her keycard and opened the door. It was an amazing office. Floor to ceiling windows in a corner room made the whole space perfectly lit with natural light.

You stepped inside in awe, and she guided you over to an expensive looking blue couch with a fond smile.

“You stay here, I’ll be right back.” She said and you grinned and nodded still star struck.

You could see the New York skyline from up here, the city bustling below.

You had barely blinked by the time pepper had returned.

She handed you your bag which you took and thanked her again.

“Now take whatever you need to and try to get some rest, I’ll be at my desk just there if you need anything.” She said with a smile, lingering to make sure you took your inhaler.

After you had uncapped the small blue device and administered the medicine, she gave you a curt nod and headed to her desk.

Almost as soon as your head hit the soft fluffy throw pillows on the couch you were out.

The next few hours were spent toeing the line between sleep and wakefulness. At one point as you dozed you heard pepper talking to someone on the phone before you returned to sleep.

Pepper had sat down to get some work done but had barely typed out one email before her eyes were back on you. You seemed so small in this moment. Just a young adult, you reminded her of peter. She wanted to make sure you were ok and the small wheeze coming from your lips made her worried.

Your face was slightly flushed, and pepper was sure nobody had been messing with the room temperature controls. Feeling maternal, she picked up her phone and punched in the number for Bruce’s lab. Better safe than sorry.

After a short conversation with Bruce in which she relayed your symptoms, he decided he wanted to see you to run further tests and rule out pneumonia. Pepper had looked over at you and agreed, you had been sleeping for nearly four hours now and seemingly weren’t doing much better, and including your asthma she didn’t want to risk anything.

Bruce and pepper agreed to bring you to the avengers' tower to check your lungs and maybe put you on a nebuliser to be safe as the wheeze was still lingering.

When the phone call ended pepper stood from her desk and walked over to the couch, gently she sat down beside you and nudged your shoulder. You groaned and rolled over trying to escape.

Stifling a giggle pepper placed her hand on your arm, frowning when she felt heat radiating off you. She paused and then lifted her hand to your face, laying the backside of her palm to your forehead and feeling for a fever.

Finding what she was looking for, pepper gently rubbed your arm again.

“Y/n? Honey, you have to get up. We’re going to the doctor sweetie.” She said softly and you whined and buried your face in the couch.

“Tired and don’t wanna move.” You mumbled into the cushions.

“You can lean on me the whole way to the car, alright?” Pepper said carding her hands through your hair.

“Okay.” You mumbled and blinked your eyes open to look at her. The haze of fever was settled in and the pink hue of your cheeks made you look both dazed and cute.

With peppers help you stand up and lean into her side. She had already called happy to bring the car around and he was going to meet you both out front.

With your bag slung over one shoulder and you curled into her other side, pepper slowly began the trek back to the lift. The board meeting had ended hours ago so it was just the two of you left on the whole floor.

After a slow and sleepy trip down to the car pepper got settled into the backseat with you so she could keep an eye on how you were fairing.

Your cheeks had darkened slightly, and she felt your forehead again as happy peeled out of the car park. Your fever had definitely risen, and she frowned as the glossy look in your eyes was increased ten-fold.

Part two coming soon :)

[boxmorelover232]

Batman: TB&TB Infection AU Characters 2

I ran out of room in the last post and wanted to not make this post ridiculously long for all the readers out there, so these are gonna be separated into a few parts. I think doing two characters at a time is beneficial since there's gonna be a lot of emotional highs and lows. Plus, I'm a bit of a sucker for duos.

Side nite, did you guys know there's a 4,096 character limit for paragraphs and bullet point lists?

Orm Marius (Ocean Master)

It's no secret that the Atlantis Brothers, Prince Orm and King Arthur, have always had a rocky relationship from the day of the King's Coronation. But before that day, the two brothers had been close friends. Over the years, Orm's fury has come and gone, and it was when it was at its lowest that Orm was ordered out of his cell in the dungeon. Despite his questioning, Orm wasn't given answers. He rolled his eyes, expecting this to be another attempt at a family dinner or family bonding activity. But there was something about the guards escorting him that was off. The feeling worsened when he saw his Sister-in-Law Mera and a screen displaying a green-skinned man who Orm vaguely recognized as one of his brother's allies, but his brother was nowhere in sight. Unease filled Orm, but he tried to mask it by putting up the "Scorned Brother" act and remarking about Arthur's absence. The Look Mera gave him said more than the man ever could.

"I'm sorry, Prince Orm, but King Arthur is dead."

Orm's world seemed to shatter, his knees giving out as tears filled his eyes. Arthur was dead? His brother, one of the toughest, strongest people he knew, dead? That couldn't be right. It just couldn't! Arthur would never let anything happen to him! He's too stubborn to let any old threat get the best of him! He's too capable of handling himself to allow such a simple fate as death to overcome him! Arthur can't be dead! He can't- He can't- He c a n ' t

Orm broke down. It was the first time he'd cried over the death of a loved one, shedding tears of sorrow, grief, and regret; there was no relief upon learning of his little brother's passing. He doesn't remember falling asleep, but he woke up on a bed- his bed, Orm realized belatedly- from when Orm returned to Atlantis and began reconciling with Arthur while secretly conspiring with Black Manta. A servant came in, informing Orm that he was required at breakfast. He didn't want to, wanted to stay in bed and fall asleep and pray that this was all a twisted nightmare devised by his mind, but he forced himself up and out. The meeting with Mera was nothing more than a formality to him, since Orm already knew what would happen now that his brother was gone.

According to Atlantian Law, an old relic from days past that Orm found no meaning in keeping around- if the current ruler suddenly passes, the right to rule goes to the closest blood family, and forced to marry the former ruler's spouse. Orm wanted the crown for so long, but that didn't matter anymore; his brother was dead, and Orm never got a chance to truly apologize for his actions.

Orm sat at the table, a plate set before him (it looked good, but Orm wasn't hungry), and Mera began speaking. Orm barely paid any attention, giving out nods or mumbled responses; he was waiting for Mera to get to the point and carry out the orders of the new king (it was funny, how much Orm despised the crown now. In the past, he only wanted it because he felt he was the best ruler and to show her how wrong she was for throwing him away-). Oh, Mera's cleared her throat. This was it. Orm braced himself for her words, to ask him to marry her and be the new king and rule by her side in a loveless, political marriage where they'll have to pretend to be a happy couple to the public, share a bed, and-

"Orm," Mera began, face stern and tone cold. "I want to expunge you of your crimes and in turn, you pledge your allegiance to me."

Orm's mind snapped out of it, staring at Mera with wide eyes. The fork he used to play with his food clattered on his plate. What? Did Orm hear that right? Pledge his allegiance? The first part he could understand, a king with a criminal record wouldn't reflect well with the public no matter how easily swayed they were, but pledge his allegiance? That was odd phrasing.

Mera rolled her eyes at Orm's confusion. "Are you that daft?" It was a rhetorical question. "I want you to pledge loyalty to me once I become Queen."

Okay, that was more confusing. This isn't how Orm expected things to go; he was expecting a monotonous agreement to marry his brother's widow, agree, become the new king, and live the rest of his life miserable. None of this sounded like a political marriage or marriage of convenience. Orm couldn't help himself- he asked what in Neptune's name Mera was talking about. Now Mera looked confused; Orm's annoyance flared along with his desperate confusion, bringing up that old Atlantian Law and asking why the Trident Mera was behaving confusingly. Mera blinked, once, twice, before realization came across her features.

"Oh, that?" Mera let out a chuckle. "Arthur removed that law years ago! Remember when you two chatted after Arthur finished one of his memoirs? He mentioned how you loathed some of those old regulations, so he sent his best archivists to comb over them and find all that were unnecessary. Didn't he tell you?"

Arthur...did that? Arthur remembered that conversation after he left? Orm did think his brother looked thoughtful when he left; a few days later and another round of Memoirs made him forget. Orm felt tears form again, scrubbing them away the best he could; he couldn't cry in front of his brother's wife (again). Mera sat closer to him and laid a hand on his shoulder, telling Orm that Arthur loved him, despite his obvious flaws. And though Mera was hesitant about it, she wanted Orm to be an asset to Atlantis since Arthur was striving for it before his passing. Orm couldn't help himself, hugging Mera for the first time, and agreed.

Orm was relieved he wasn't forced into a marriage with his brother's widow, but he also carried immense guilt for not making things right with his brother. This is why, a few days after he became the new Chancellor of Atlantis, when the request to assist in building a barricade to contain the Vampiric Outbreak in Gotham came, he was right by the Queen's side as they worked on blocking off the docks. Gotham Harbor was big, and the water wasn't great, but he, the Queen, and all their people worked around the clock to ensure the barricade was completed before the Vampires could escape through the harbor.

There was a close call when Black Manta showed his face while Orm was attempting to direct his men to straighten a support beam that fell to the side, but it turned out his worries were for naught since the villain had come to aid with construction. He had brought his Manta Ship to help with the high areas of the barrier and taught his men how to operate them and ensure the parts were welded correctly. It was a sight to behold, watching Black Manta help the Atlantians. It's because of his help they finished so quickly, and were able to get the defense systems working just a day before some Vampires were sighted heading toward this side of the barricade. Orm's tailfin was saved when Black Manta pushed him out of the way of some falling metal beams. Black Manta even gave his condolences regarding his brother in an awkward exchange before leaving.

After the barricade was completed and Gotham City went into lockdown, Orm and Mera went to Black Manta's residence (after getting it from that Tockman fellow) and talked. It was a hard conversation, not knowing when to start and what topics were appropriate. But in the end, they formed a bond beneficial to all parties. Black Manta, or rather David Hyde, would come by Atlantis for one reason or another from time to time. Tea with the Queen, helping Orm with his new duties as a Chancellor, and helping Artie accept him as an uncle. He's also been making waves in Atlantis's culture and knowledge on the more obscure concepts, something Orm is eternally grateful for.

He and David meshed well, and Orm wants to keep whatever they have going.

Black Manta (David M. Hyde)

Living on the edge of Star City has its perks. He's close enough to the city that he can duck in and out whenever he pleases, doesn't have to deal with noisy neighbors, and has a clear view of the ocean from where he is. There's also the added benefit of being close to his first friend since becoming a villain, William Tockman, and being able to help him whenever possible. It was a shock for David to get a call from Tockman and ask for help designing a barricade to keep a horde of ravenous Vampires inside Gotham City from escaping, but it wasn't the most unusual thing he'd heard. Since they're friends, he said yes and went straight to work

David is a freelance mechanics engineer, and while most of his clientele are fellow villains (some are legitimate business owners and regular customers), he's always been passionate about designing the best creation possible with his skillset. David's life has been rather mundane as of late, so taking on a job this big with a promise for a large payout was welcomed. It barely took a full day before he sent the designs to Tockman and half of one before he got a response from him and another email address. (David was told later the address belonged to Green Arrow. It was a surprise, but Tockman explained everything to him).

David was the main brain behind the Gotham Barricade and all the safety measures implemented during construction. He wasn't ever present on the scene itself, but he always communicated through calls and emails with accompanying notes emphasizing areas of improvement. The structure was coming along well, with heroes from all walks of life coming to help rapidly decreasing the time necessary for its completion; no one knew this, but certain villains had contributed. However, David took note of how the Harbor area was falling behind. Sensing the potential negative ramifications, David grabbed his suit and took his newly constructed Manta Ship before dashing toward the Harbor for assistance.

Of all the things David expected to see, Orm Marius was not one of them. If Orm was there that meant something had happened to the royal family. But, Orm isn't dressed in his Ocean Master garb so why? Wait, is that Aquaman's wife? Her name escapes him, but she looks different. She's wearing the crown on her head. He's seen it on Aquaman a handful of times. Oh. Tockman mentioned the death of most of the JLI. Aquaman was one of the members and hadn't been seen in a bit. David thought it was family or ruling, but.

David taught some Atlantians present how to operate his Manta Ship, and how to use the tail as a crane and place it where they want. He also showed them the proper welding techniques they should be using and examined all their previous work. To their credit, they did fairly well. David only had to redo about half of their weld work before he could help with the effort.

Things were awkward between him, Orm (now a Chancellor), and Queen Mera. But he tried not to focus on that as he got work done on-site. Welding always took his mind off stress and could let his mind quiet. The ice was broken when David saved Orm from being crushed by some metal beams. The Queen and Chancellor thanked him for his actions, and David took the opportunity to say something that's plagued him for a while.

"My condolences, your Highness. Chancellor." David watched their brows raise and rushed to get the rest out. "I may not have a right to say that, but I wanted to say it. We may not have gotten along in the past, but he was always filled with a passion for life. Again, my condolences." Then he went back to work.

Once the Gotham Barricade was complete, all that was left was to turn on the defense system. It was a close thing, but the Vampires gathering from all sides were eradicated or fled back toward the inner city. Everyone celebrated the success, and while he was invited, David turned it down to implement the analysis systems to allow non-Vamps through for containment. David wasn't sure what time it was, but the knock on his door spooked him; David was expecting Tockman since he was the only person who knew where he lived but was surprised to see Chancellor Orm and Queen Mera standing there. They asked to come in, and David allowed them.

Their conversation was awkward and emotional, but they were on better terms with each other after. Strangely enough, David had become quite close with the royal family. He and Queen Mera met for tea at the palace, chatting about whatever topic came up; Orm and he had formed a bond that David wanted to nurture; While Junior wasn't very receptive to David or Orm (something the latter has been striving to fix), has been growing to accept them. Things took a turn for the better when David gifted Junior a dress he saw the kid staring at earlier while they were shopping on the surface.

David's been helping mediate conversations regarding Artie's gender identity and sexuality, often giving Artie and their mother resources to learn more about this kind of stuff that Atlantis is strangely lacking. David's seen Orm lingering on the LGBT & Me books he has at his house and lent some to him. Orm came out as Asexual and Aromantic to David first, and David revealed that he was also on the Ace Spectrum in return. Seeing the looks on Artie and Orm's faces, having found a word for themselves and learning that they aren't abnormal, set a fire within David.

When not monitoring the finer workings of the Gotham Barricade's systems, David's been helping Atlantis progress to be more open-minded about the LGBTQ+. He calls in help from his known Queer friends and contacts and hosts some lectures on the differences between Gender Identity and Sexuality every Friday. David's thinking about creating a lecture on Queer-Platonic relationships if things with Orm go well. Tockman's fully supportive of it, and Green Arrow has attended some of his lectures as a listener and a helper. Though he's busy, David's life has gotten better.

David wished the venomous voice in the back of his mind, sounding vaguely like those goddamned "caretakers" mixed with his former colleagues and his, would shut the hell up.

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[ichayalovesyou]

Hiii could I get a pike x autistic!reader (preferably gn or non-binary if possible!) like maybe the reader is anxious about something or they get overstimulated at a party! Ps. Your fics are awesome!!!

Oh shucks! Thank you 💚🖖🏻💚 I’m autistic and trans too so this will probably be good for both of us 😂

Fifth is Touch (Pike x Reader)

Rating: E for Everyone

Word Count: 970

Content: SFW, fluff, just starting to fall in love cuteness, Science Division!Reader, Autistic!Reader, GN!Reader, built in self-grounding toolkit, hand holding, culinary diplomacy gone awry

Teaser: You’re Captain Pike’s plus one to an unofficial diplomatic social event. You got far more than you signed up for and your nerves are not at all happy. But, you are pleasantly surprised to see that Pike has followed you to the balcony to make sure you’re ok.

“Hey, Y/N, are you okay?”

“Yeah… No. I’m not- it’s, there’s a lot in there.”

“Yeah, sure is, can I help you in any way?”

“I don’t know I- I thought it was going to be fine. I wouldn’t have accepted being your plus one if I didn’t think I could handle it. But I did and I couldn’t and now-“

You did not sign up for the Chancellor’s ritual beads being thrown into metal bowls filled with pillars of open flame. Or the kitchen staff breaking out into a fight.

Well, you kinda did, you were in social sciences, and it wasn’t like you hadn’t done your homework, nor was it your first time in the field.

Still, you got much more than you bargained for, you had your limits.

You hoped you didn’t offend anyone by sneaking off to the balcony. This was supposed to be the day you and the Captain would get to work together instead of two completely different departments. Getting off the Enterprise while still on the job (sort of) was supposed to be a nice change of pace.

So much for that idea.

You could feel yourself getting all choked up, frustrated with yourself. Captain Pike put his hand on yours, perhaps having no idea how much safer that made you feel.

“Woah woah hey, it’s alright, if anything I should apologize to you. I had, no idea, that things were gonna get so intense back there. Usually casual dignitary parties like these are pretty dry, all expensive alcohol and humblebrags.” he tried to joke, you smiled weakly at his attempt to make you feel better.

“Still, no excuse. I would never have put you in this position if I knew.” he added, unexpectedly sheepish.

“I know Captain, and, I’ll be ok. I think, I’m just… overwhelmed.”

“Right, you told me about that. Should I leave?”

“No! No, please, don’t, I could use the company.”

Chris stayed put, you don’t know why, but part of you is surprised he did.

“Thank you.”

“Hey, nobody gets left behind, even when we’re both supposed to be off duty.”

You weren’t ready to look at anywhere other than the sea in front of you, but you could feel Captain Pike smiling.

“There’s, there’s this thing I do to come down after getting like this, sort of a sensory checklist, helps me climb back down to earth, so to speak.”

“Do you… want me to do this with you?” he offered, hesitantly.

“If you’d like.”

You took a deep breath.

“I see the ocean, the tides are lower here because there’s no moon.”

“Okay, I see the Tyson system, up there, to the left, the two red giants on either side of that white dwarf.” the Captain pointed it out to you, briefly leaning closer, making you a little flushed  with the proximity, but it passed quickly.

“I hear…” you winced, trying to focus on a specific sound after, well, everything “I hear the waves, and my breath starting to sink up with them.”

“Alright, I hear, something that sounds like Earth seagulls, but I mean, who knows what kind of fauna is out here.”

“I smell… the moisture on the wind coming off of the water.”

“I smell, not to piggyback off of what you said-“

“Piggyback sir?”

“Don’t worry about it, old Earth expression, but you can smell how warm it is outside, the plant life here enjoying it at least.”

“I know what you mean, next is, taste, I taste the salt on the air, seems like their oceans are saltwater.”

“Damn, beat me to it. Well I can still taste the food they gave us before the kitchen staff went supernova. Heh, they should’ve let me in there. Could’ve cooked up something more diplomatic.”

“You would!” hey, you were actually laughing, that was a good sign.

“You must really like the ocean Y/N, everything you’ve said ties back to it.” Pike noted

“I do, the colony I come from is a bi-seasonal island, the ocean was a big part of my life there.”

“I can imagine, when I was a kid my parents, little brothers and I would visit family in Los Angeles and we’d surf on the Pacific.”

“Oh that’s lovely, wait, I forgot one.”

“Oh?”

“Touch, the fifth one.”

“Oh, so, what do you feel?”

“Your hand in mine.”

Pike looked puzzled for a moment, before abruptly realizing he’d never removed his hand from yours earlier. He jerked away, almost apologetically, glancing between you and his hand, rubbing it absentmindedly. If you didn’t know any better, he was as flustered as you were!

“Uh… so…” Pike cleared his throat, it was strange seeing the Captain this embarrassed, it wasn’t a big deal was it? It had been very nice, after all.

“I would give the same answer but, uh, haha, clearly I didn’t notice until just now.” he spluttered.

“That’s okay, I feel a lot better anyway.” You stood up. For once he was looking up at you instead of the other way around. Clearly willing to follow your lead depending on how you felt.

“We could go back in, but there’s a chance the same thing will happen all over again. Besides, we’ve been out here for a while, I think they’ve forgotten we’re here.” You added, the ball was in the Captain’s court now.

“Well, neither of us are here on official Starfleet diplomatic business. I came here as a favor for a friend, and I feel we made good on that promise. And, I don’t particularly want cutlery to be thrown in our direction again in case they disagree on desert too.” He laughed.

“We should go.” you stated, bluntly.

“Agreed, set course for the Enterprise?”

“Yes sir!”

[dottiechan]

ICEBREAKER Pt. 1

Read on AO3 (link in bio)

Part 1 | Part 2&3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

Pairing: Crosshair x Reader x Hunter; Tech x Reader (platonic)

Wordcount: 2389

Summary: Tech watches on helplessly as his brothers' affection for you threaten to ruin the squad.

Warnings: cursing, yearning

You’re just as cold on the inside as the ice is under your boots. It crunches with every step you take, and your heart seems to beat along with the fall of your boots, aching. You feel unsteady, almost enough to miss the tracks running in the snow right in front of you. You pause and crutch down, gloved fingers dipping into the indentations as you grumble to yourself. It’s not even your turn to scope out the area where you’re setting up camp, and besides, there is a literal tracking genius in your squad - it really shouldn’t be you who’s out here in the snow and ice, eyes straining against the blinding white of the planet, fingers freezing off as you set up perimeter alarms. And yet you just volunteered for the less than ideal task without explanation, not understanding your own decision either.

At least Tech offered to tag along, but you suspect he’s simply had enough of his brothers for a while. Not that you can blame him.

“Fascinating.”

You sigh, internally begging him to stop talking as you stand, abandoning the tracks after deciding they most likely belong to a lone whitefang. You have enough on your plate right now, with Hunter still being pissy and Crosshair avoiding you like the plague, and silence would be much more preferable right now to listening to one of Tech’s rambles.

“Did you know that this moon’s surface is almost entirely composed of water?”

“No.”

“Despite the subzero surface temperature, there are subsurface oceans underneath the ice that are warmed by the moon’s internal heat.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I wish we could stay long enough for me to study the subsurface flora and fauna. There might be plants underneath the ice that-”

“Tech.”

“-that use chemosynthesis-”

“Tech!”

“What?”

He has the decency to look flustered, one hand gripping the datapad tightly, the other flying up to adjust his goggles as he peers up at you. You didn’t mean to sound so harsh, but sometimes you just can’t help it. Sometimes, the confinement of the Marauder is enough to turn you into a ticking time bomb, irritated by the slightest seemingly innocent things. And you’ve had more than just mere sparks to flare your temper as of late.

...

His rifle is spotless, and yet he’s still scrubbing it as if his life depended on it.

Maybe it does, because if he jumps up and lowers his guard for a second, he’s out the ship and off to find you and Tech. Maybe you’re a fool sometimes, a god damn nuisance, a person he still couldn’t grow used to, but you belong with them now, you’re theirs, you’re his, and that means something to him. You frustrate him beyond reason, and he often grows callous and agitated because he refuses to allow himself to feel the emotions you elicit from him whenever you’re near him.

Even now, on an ice planet, the mere thought of you infects him with a sweet, sweet jungle fever that knocks him off his feet.

And he’s supposed to be angry now, Crosshair reminds himself. After all, you almost gotten yourself killed on Bracca, and almost broke him in the process.

“They’ve been gone for too long,” Hunter grumbles as he paces up and down like a caged nexu craving to run free. But lately Crosshair began to suspect that he craves something else, someone else, and the thought has his throat tightening in jealousy. He’s been watching, and he convinced himself that he’d misread the signs until he saw the same agitation reflect in his brother’s eyes that he himself has to wrestle with every day.

If it ever came down to your choice, he knows he wouldn’t be it, and he hates living with this knowledge.

Hunter has all the things you seem to like - unlimited kindness, longing looks, smirks that turn a little too soft when directed at you, broad shoulders he caught you staring at more times than he can count. Deep down, he’s still hoping it will never come to you having to choose, but it’s impossible not to wish to be in the centre of your attention. You drive him insane, but you also make him want to commit and stop fighting and lay down his weapons for once in his god damn life.

“Relax. They’re probably fine.”

The screen to their left lights up, and Hunter rushes across the ship in long strides before exhaling in relief. “The proximity alarms are online. They should be heading back soon.”

Crosshair sucks in a breath, worried about seeing his own emotions sitting behind Hunter’s eyes as well.

...

You were assigned to assist the Bad Batch for an unspecified period of time some months ago. You’re a versatile field agent, specialising in both stealth and combat casualty care, one of the few volunteers who were qualified enough to join the GAR. Oh, and you’re also clearly mistrusted by your new squad as they flip out the very moment you risk yourself in the line of duty. You’re not stupid, you weighed the risks carefully, and you trusted your abilities to see you through the job unharmed.

But ever since the incident on Bracca, you’re given the cold shoulder by most on the squad, and for once, the scenery matches your mood.

And yet Tech deserves better than to be cut off like that. He deserves to be listened to, and appreciated as the good man he is. You’re friends, but in moments like these, you think you don’t deserve his friendship.

“Look, I’m... I’m sorry, okay? But right now, I have too much on my mind to think about, umm, chemo...”

“Chemosynthesis?”

“Yeah, that.”

“I think I understand,” he nods, satisfied with your half-assed apology for the time being as he goes back to scanning the vast icy desert stretching as far as the eye can see. The Marauder’s lights blink in the background, orange against the dark blue of the growing darkness that surrounds you. It’s like a beacon, a sign that promises warmth, and you gaze at it longingly until you remember that you’ll have to go back to Crosshair’s scowl and Hunter’s disapproving frown and Wrecker’s awkward little smiles. Somehow, the ice is preferable once more, and the snow that just began to fall in soft flakes is little more than a mild annoyance.

“Well, aside from a few distant life forms-”

“Whitefangs.”

“Yes, most likely whitefangs - aside from those, we should be quite safe inside the ship for tonight.”

“Yeah,” you sigh. “You might be. I’m not the most popular with the squad right now, remember?”

“You are a valued addition,” Tech declares, and the certainty in his voice releases inside you the emotional equivalent of a sucker punch. All you can do is stand, and fight the sting of tears in your eyes. You’re confident, but you never in your wildest dreams imagined how difficult it would be to live up to the expectations of a special unit. You also know your worth, but it’s hard to keep on believing in yourself steadfastly when the rest of your squad doubts your every move. “Which is why the prospect of losing you elicits a rather severe emotional reaction in us. It is rare for regs to warm up to us as well as you have, let alone volunteers. Aside from the obvious tactical disadvantage losing you would mean, I believe it is a little more personal than that.”

...

Hunter knows something is off even before one of the alarms is triggered - whatever it is, it is within five clicks of the ship, making you and Tech plenty exposed before he could do anything. He was straining his ear simply to keep you all safe - so what if he accidentally heard your muffled voice, or the soft crunch of snow underneath your boots?

But now is not the time to be idle, and he knows it. He would never forgive himself if something happened to his squad. And to you, he corrects himself almost softly as he grabs his helmet and checks his weapons quickly. Despite the fact that he’s still angry about your previous carelessness, he cannot deny the forbidden yearning coiling in his stomach whenever you’re on his mind, making him just as nervous as hopeful. And to be fair, it happens more and more often as of late, which is both alarming and exciting as he never thought he’d ever have the luxury to feel this way about someone else. Sure, he knows love, he loves his brothers with all his heart even if he isn’t very vocal about it, but this is different. New, scary, exciting different, an effervescent and persevering tingling blinding all his senses.

Crosshair is beside him in less than a second, rifle in hand, silent, and they share a nod before lowering the ramp and rushing out into the freezing dusk.

When he picks up on your muffled voice, he seems to ignore everything as he breaks into a sprint towards you, hoping to reach you in time before you’re in danger. He almost misses the way Crosshair’s heartbeat picks up, the usually stoic man reeking with genuine worry as he looks through the scope of his rifle.

He can deal with this later, Hunter promises himself as he pushes down this uncomfortable feeling. But then he sees you and Tech, and he seems to forget about anything and everything - you have that unfortunate and awfully distracting effect on him.

...

“But Hunter yelled at me for being reckless for a solid hour. And Crosshair said he didn’t care if I wanted to get myself killed, but I should do it in a way that didn’t interfere with the mission. Seriously, what an asshole.”

“Nevermind what they actually say,” Tech waves his hand in mild annoyance. “Hunter was worried sick. Crosshair almost went after you. And they’re both too pigheaded to admit the real reason why they’re so worked up.”

“Which is?”

“Obviously they both view you as a potential romantic partner.”

There’s a moment of pause as you two stare back at one another before you snort and chuckle, shaking your head and crossing your arms over your chest as a futile attempt at staying warm. “Tech, you need to work on your sense of humour.”

“And you need to work on your observational skills and situational awareness.”

“My observational skills are exceptional,” you defend yourself, a finger held up in the air defiantly. “And my situational awareness is-”

“Lacking, as you didn’t seem to notice the whitefang return. I suggest we head back to the safety of the Marauder.”

Sure enough, the wild cat is there lurking amongst the ice dunes, its eyes glowing in the dark as they reflect the light of the ship. It shouldn’t pose a threat to you as it is alone, and relatively small, but you still consider wrestling with it instead of returning to the ship and facing the rest of the squad - somehow, even that feels like a fight more fair than the ones that await you upon your return. So you hold its gaze as it curiously inspects you, wishing to swap bodies and run away and avoid any more conflict. Before you can even think of returning to the ship, you hear quiet footsteps catching up to you.

“I thought I heard something.”

“It’s probably more curious than anything.”

Hunter unsheaths his vibroblade and twirls it in his hand so theatrically it makes you roll your eyes. He glances at you, shoulders all tense, ready to pounce at the slightest sign of danger, and even though his face is obscured by his helmet, you can almost see the disappointed frown sitting on his features. “You want to test that theory?”

“My money would be on the whitefang winning.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Tech.”

“Any time.”

“Relax.” The distorted rasp of your commlink is not enough to drown out the smugness of the sniper. The stand-off ends when a single well-placed shot right before the big cat sends it sprinting away into the darkness. You all turn to find Crosshair standing by the ship, his rifle still aimed at the retreating form of the whitefang.

“Well, there goes my opportunity to finally have an interesting patrol,” you mutter to yourself as you all make it back to the Marauder.

“Do all of your patrols end in you staring down carnivores?” Crosshair snorts, clearly unamused.

“Only the good ones,” you fire back, deciding not to wait for any of them as you head inside. Crosshair is hot on your heels, another string of mockery sitting on the tip of his tongue, because fuck, you’re stubborn, but he’s not going to cave in and tell you how it makes him feel to see you in danger. He can’t, however, put up with being away from you either.

Hunter lingers a little outside. He has to set himself straight, to contain all the things he wants to say you that have nothing to do with scolding you about Bracca, to kill all the feelings that suddenly demand to be felt so desperately. He clenches and unclenches his fists by his side, pretending to survey the surroundings of the Marauder. Tech moves in the periphery of his vision, but instead of following you and Crosshair, he steps closer to Hunter.

“I believe the threat’s been averted.”

“Yeah. Good job on setting up those alarms, Tech.”

“No problem. Is there anything else you need?”

“No. You should head back inside. The last thing I want is for you to keel over with hypothermia.”

“That’s not how hypothermia works,” Tech mutters, his voice trailing off, eyes uncertain behind his goggles. He suddenly places a gentle hand on Hunter’s shoulder, making the sergeant glance at him.

“Hunter, I’m only asking this because I care about you all, but... how long do you think this can go on before one of you gets hurt?”

Tech’s words echo in his mind long after he’s rejoined the squad on the ship. And Hunter just stands outside in the snowfall, watching the last rays of light disappear on the horizon, wondering which one of you he’ll have to hurt when the push comes to shove.

[markosmate]

lady

Pairing; Marko x Emerson!Reader

Summary; Moving to a different state with your younger brothers and mother just to live with your grandfather was hard enough, but falling in love with a vampire and then watching your brother do the same thing? Much different story.

Warnings; strong language

au://  Welp lovelies I had promised you a Marko series in February that I started writing while I was manic, then after writing a good five/six chapters I fell into a deep dark hole of depression and didn’t write anything but sad, worthless poetry about a boy I’m in love with who doesn’t love me back :) But now it’s May, a spark of inspiration and happiness has suddenly hit me and I’ve come back to this series to finally deliver it to you!! I hope y’all like it cause I literally stress cried over finishing it three different times :,)

I’d also like to point out that any kind of feedback at all is so so appreciated. Most of my inspiration comes from feeding off of people’s reactions to what I write. So if you enjoy it or have any recommendations or comments at all please please don’t be shy to send me an ask or DM or even comment to let me know :( Thank you and enjoy!!

Part 2

I wasn’t exactly mad about moving, there was nothing holding me in Phoenix that I would be particularly sad about leaving behind. The only thing that struck a nerve was that it was dumped out of nowhere on me. Suddenly Mom had divorced Dad, let him keep everything, and made plans with Grandpa for us to move into his place with him. A little prior warning would have been appreciated, but regardless when we were told it didn’t change the fact that everything we knew was changing. Sam wasn’t happy about it at all, leaving his friends, leaving Dad. Michael... well Michael didn’t really have an opinion. In my view, he was just indifferent. He didn’t really care where the hell we were as long as he had a motorcycle, a job, and some hot chicks to swoon over.

But here we were, packed into Mom’s truck and driving through a town that I’d most likely have memorized like the back of my hand in a good few days. As the three in the car argued over which station to keep on, I turned my head and leaned my forehead on the window of the car. I watched the beach as we drove along the road, and admired the waves hitting against the sand.

I was ready to drift off until we got to Grandpa’s house when a short, exited yell left Mom’s lips. “Oh!” She grinned happily as Sam landed on a station familiar to her. “Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait! Oh, that’s from my era! Grooving on a Sunday afternoon!” She sung along with the song as Sam threw his head back and groaned in protest. I laughed at her antics, enjoying seeing my Mom acting so carefree and happy. 

“Alright, keep going, keep going.” Mom and Sam agreed with each other at the same time, Mom leaning over to continue skipping through the stations. Finally, the next station was agreed on and my pounding head thanked the universe for the quiet that I hadn’t been able to achieve the entire drive here. “Hey we’re almost there!”

“Ugh,” Sam scrunched his nose up in disgust after taking a deep breath. I leaned forward to wrap my arms around his head-rest and pull my face closer to the open window. The pungent smell hit me, and I recognized it immediately, low tide, but it wasn’t bad - anything to do with the beach was calming to me regardless. “What’s that smell?”

“Ah!” Mom breathed in deeply and turned to share a knowing grin with me, “That’s the ocean air!”

I turned to look at the welcoming sign, taking in the colors and faded lettering. “Smells like someone died.” Sam muttered as Mom tutted at him softly. 

“That’s likely.” I muttered to Michael, nudging his head in the direction of the back of the sign, where in big red spray-painted letters sat the phrase “Murder Capitol of the World.”

“Aw guys, I know the last year hasn’t been easy. But I do think you’re really going to enjoy living in Santa Carla.” Mom tried to remain happy about the situation, but a shared glance with Michael after we both read over the sign revealed there wasn’t much he was excited for.

The rest of the drive only increased my excitement. Hippies galore filled the streets, a large amusement park covered most of the boardwalk, and the rest was filled with small shops and food stands. We stopped for awhile so Mom could give some teenagers rummaging through garbage some money to eat and so Michael could unhinge his bike and ask around for job openings, but before I could even think to step out of the car and get a look around we were already heading into the backroads to get to Grandpa’s house.

Grandpa’s house was farther into the plains than expected, but still only a good fifteen to twenty minute drive away from town. Before Mom could ever fully park the car, I had already jumped out and was looking around the property. Michael pulled his bike up next to Mom’s car, and they all took a good few seconds to look around at all the wood carvings and chimes before turning their vehicles off. I took note of the horses grazing in one of the back fields before walking around the front of the truck and seeing a man laying on his back across the front porch steps.

Sam lead the way towards him before Mom cut in front and marched up the steps to squat beside him. “Dad?” She questioned gently. “Dad?” The three of us leaned closer to get a better look.

“Looks like he’s dead.” Michael remarked.

“Like... really dead.” I quipped in, raising an eyebrow at Mom.

“No, no. He’s just a deep sleeper.” She brushed our comments off.

“If he’s dead can we go back to Phoenix?” Sam remarked, earning a snort from me and a sharp look from Mom. 

Suddenly Grandpa sat up, a cocky smirk apparent on his face. “Playing dead. And from what I hear, doing a damn good job of it.”

Sam rolled his eyes in exasperation before Mom laughed faintly. “Oh, Dad!”

-

That night, Mom decided that it would be good for the four of us to leave the house after a night of unpacking and explore the boardwalk when it’s at its liveliest. I could admit it looked much more enjoyable now that it was dark and a little chilly, the sweaty people that had been occupying it earlier were now less sweaty and more stoned.

Almost as soon as Mom’s car and Michael’s bike were parked, Mom sent us off on our own so she could spend some time staking out a job in one of the family-owned shops. “Do you think she’ll be able to find one?” Sam questioned as the three of us weaved through crowds, trying to find our way to the beach concert. We could certainly hear it, we were just having a bit of trouble actually getting to it.

“One what? A job?” Michael scoffed as if it was hard to believe, still bitter over the fact there was no legal jobs for him to get hired in.

I laughed, elbowing him softly in the side, knowing that this place was exactly his vibe and in time he would most likely come to love living here. Sam was the only one I was actually worried about. “She’ll probably be able to find one. What, with all these missing people, there’s bound to be tons of job openings.”

“You’re telling me. It’s like there’s hundreds of bullet-boards around every corner with dozens of people missing. This place really is the Murder Capital.” Michael remarked as the concert finally came into our line of sight.

“Don’t say that!” Sam pleaded, shoving Michael’s shoulder with his eyebrows knitted tightly.

Michael just held his hand up in surrender and with one last shrug of his shoulders he turned to me. “You checking out the shops? We’ll find you once we get bored.”

“Sounds like a plan.” I agreed, turning sharply on my heel and blindly making my way back into the crowd. The concert was loud, sweaty, and crowded, and it wasn’t even my style of music - the last thing I wanted to do was spend my first night there. I figured it would be much more productive if I were to check out all the shops and stands running up and down the entire area, maybe find some new pieces of jewelry, or even a possible summer job opportunity.

Many places caught my eye, and I made a mental note to check them out the next time I had free money to spend, as it wouldn’t be wise for me to make an impulse-buy when I’m so close to being completely broke. Instead a small stand in the middle of the walkway drew me to it. A piercing stand. One person working on someone already sitting on the chair. There was a large wall selection of different studs, and many different kinds of disinfectants lined along the counter.

I walked closer to the wall, admiring all the different designs they had. I’d absolutely love to get a helix or orbital piercing, but I knew it wasn’t the wisest to spend money doing something like that at a small stand on a boardwalk in Santa Carla of all places. I was suddenly broken out of my thoughts when a voice spoke up directly behind me.

“It’s a scam, you know.” I jumped, hand flying to my chest, and whipping around to look at the owner. A teenage boy, my age, maybe a little older, with long curly blond hair and a grin that could have probably wooed me into his bed by the end of the night had he not literally just scared the shit out of me.

I laughed breathlessly, shaking my head. “What is?”

“The piercings. If you need one done, I could do it for you. But they use the guns instead of a needle which will definitely infect if you’re planning on doing a cartilage one.” He explained with a tilt of his head as he turned and began making his way towards the restaurants. I took that as an invite to follow, jogging to catch up and walking next to him.

“You know a lot about piercings?” I tried to make small talk, not wanting him to get away just yet.

He nodded with a confident smirk. “I did my own, and my friends. Someone had to learn.” I laughed a little at his mock-annoyed tone and shoved my hands into my pockets to appear to be doing something. He suddenly stopped and turned to me, holding out his hand. “Marko, by the way.”

“Ivory.” I accepted his hand and we both shook, hard and firm.

“You’re new.” He nodded as if finally understanding something that had been going on inside his own head. “I would’ve noticed you before if you’d been here all along.”

We dropped each other’s hand and I gave him a quizzical look. “What do you mean by that?”

He barked out a laugh and shook his head. “Nothing rude, you’re just too gorgeous to go unnoticed around here.” Before I could reply, another voice cut in from a few yards away.

“Marko! Marko, man, we’re supposed to meet David in ten!” I looked over to see another punk-looking dude calling out to Marko with his hands cupped around his mouth.

I laughed and look back towards the curly blond. “See you around?”

He nodded in confirmation, sending me one last crooked smile before turning to jog over to his other friend. I turned as well, making my way back into the crowd and away from the middle lane stands. I didn’t make it very far before the body of my youngest brother crashed into my side. I glanced down at him in bewilderment as we used each other to steady ourselves.

“Sam? Aren’t you supposed to be with Michael?” I laughed as he looked as though he’d just had the weirdest conversation of his life.

“Well, I was. Then he saw some girl at the concert and wandered after her so I went to check out the comic store.” He explained, shrugging before letting his eyes wander around once more in search of Michael. I rolled my eyes, of course Michael left Sam behind to go chase after some girl. It didn’t take long to find him, he was only a little further down the stretch of restaurants. He was more towards the end, walking out of the crowd near where the last building - a bar - sat in place.

We walked up behind him, and as soon as I was at his side I followed his eyes to a girl who was walking behind a small child, hand on his shoulder, and steering him in a certain direction. She was pretty - with big, curly hair and a beautiful smile that curled her lips up as her eyes grazed over all the lights of the carousel one last time for the night. I followed her line of sight, trying to place why Michael was following her instead of just walking up and introducing himself, but I immediately realized what the problem was.

She hoisted herself up onto the back of a motorcycle, accepting the help of the blond driver. He had a spiked mullet, dressed in all black, and when he realized Michael was staring at his girl, a cocky kind of smirk crossed his face. His friends parked next him all revved their engines to a start, and I tore my eyes from the platinum blond to see the others. I didn’t manage to catch a good look at two of them, because my eyes immediately looked onto those of the punk from earlier who’d started a conversation with me over pierced ears.

He was already looking at me, and when he realized my attention immediately locked onto him, a predatory look filled the black circles of his eyes and his lips formed into a boyish smirk directed exactly at me. He lifted his hand in a short wave, laughing along with the friend who called him away from me earlier as he shoved Marko’s shoulder in a teasing way. I lifted my hand in a small acknowledging wave back, but was knocked out of my small trance by Sam, who began teasing Michael.

“Come on, she stiffed ya!” Sam laughed harmlessly, gently punching Michael’s shoulder and turning to probably go and find Mom. I broke my gaze away from Marko immediately, turning to follow after Sam and not bothering to look back at all as I heard the bikes pull out and speed off down the road.

“Too bad she left with Mr. Mullet, she was pretty.” I tried to break the tension with Michael, I really didn’t want him to be upset over the lose of the girl, he still had all of Santa Carla’s teenage population of girls to meet.

He cracked a smile and nudged his shoulder into mine. “She really was.”

Once we made it home for the night, I separated from both my brothers and made my way into my own room. It was the smallest of all of ours, but that’s the main reason why I had chose it. It was cozy, and cute. I liked the way it came out once I had finished decorating it.

I couldn’t help but let my mind wander to those boys on the motorcycles from earlier that night. Marko seemed nice enough, even if I didn’t know whether or not I was brave enough to try to pursue a friendship with his more than intimidating friends. Just as I came to the conclusion that I should just get over myself and approach them, a sharp sting of anxiety wedged itself into my gut and nauseous filled my stomach and rose up in my throat. No. I didn’t need to become friends with those boys, there was something off, something I didn’t need to meddle in.

If I saw them again, I’d avoid eye contact and conversation completely. I was never able to understand my anxiety, but I always listened to it when it struck me.

[dracereads]

for the book rec ask game thing, how about 85 and 86?

85. your favourite book about magical realism

86. a book with an insane plot twist

Doing Recs is so hard aggh. I asked for this, I need the practice. I want to preface all of these recs by saying this. My favorite to recommend is usually what's catered towards whoever asks' reading needs. Some people who ask me for book recs on a regular day to day basis, the last book they ever read rapturously was like... Harry Potter. So I usually start there. What was the last book that you read that you absolutely fell in love with? 85. Magical realism: This is a genre I'm not really that big on. I absolutely love high fantasy and I absolutely love contemporary. However, you mash the two of them together and I for some reason tend to skip them. I should really focus on fixing that next year. From what I've read: Honestly I'm going to fall back on my kid lit so hard here. I absolutely love Magnus Chase and Aru Shah personally. However, they are middle grade. So they're not everyone's cup of tea.

If you want something... spicy and young adult, Tracy Deonn's legendborn is very good. It's very much like Cassandra Clare's shadowhunters series but like... without the need for the main series to be 5 books long and be questionable at best. My mom and my ex girlfriend were very into Cassandra Clare's works, and now that I am out of that realm of influence I'm meh on them. Her side pieces are better.

If you want balls to the wall queer recs, then that would either be the Simon Snow series by Rainbow Rowell or the Kate Kane series by Alexis Hall. From my TBR: The Water Dancer by Te-Nehisi Coates and The Ocean at the End of the Lane by Neil Gaiman which has been sitting in a box since my sister bought it for me like... ages ago. oops. 86. Plot Twists: This one is KINDA spoilery. Fucked Up Plot Twist award goes to Blacktop Wasteland's Plot Twist, aka the details surrounding Kelvin's death. That one took me awhile to get over. It hurt a lot. We miss you and respect you Kelvin, even if you were a horrible philanderer and womanizer. You were still a great cousin and brother. Plot Twist That Wasn't Actually a Plot Twist to the Reader but the Character is Not-Genre Aware award goes to SVSSS, and the absolute meltdown the Main character has over his love interest being gay. Because that man would cross several deserts to avoid the oasis of a man having feelings for him. Because that means he has to acknowledge his own feelings. and like. ew internalized homophobia. Plot twist of "Oh, So that's where the story is going... huh didn't see that coming" goes to Little Mushroom for invoking nightmares on a Walking Dead scale via a purging of infected in a very grotesque way... and when that failed using the LITERAL nuclear option.

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Hey! Will there be a part 5 to the Silva story? It’s absolutely amazing! Just want them to be happy and together, please 🥺

Consequences - Series Masterlist

Pairing: Saul Silva x specialist!reader

==============================

Saul couldn’t sleep. As much as he tried to close his eyes and drift away, his mind was far too preoccupied with thoughts of Y/N. If there was something he knew about her it’s that she doesn’t take kindly to losing people in her life, even if that person is him. 

Saul recognized the look in her eye, the determination to act instead of waiting for a solid plan was driving her and the stubborn refusal to obey his orders fueled her further.

“Fuck”, he whispers under his breath. Sitting up with a grimace, Saul reached for his crutch. He couldn’t just sit around and wait either. It’s not in his blood, it’s not who he is. 

Saul hoped Y/N would be stopped by Farah and if not, he sure hoped she’d be wise enough to wait for daylight. If she went out there now, it could prove to be catastrophic and the idea of losing Y/N was worse than the idea of succumbing to the infection himself. He’d trade his life in for her without a second thought.

He struggled to walk, panting with every step he takes to reach her bedroom. It drains him, aggravates his wounds further, but he has to talk some sense into her.

Licking his lips, he pauses at her door with a heaviness inside his chest that never seems to go away. It’s always there to remind him of all the mistakes he’s made in his life and one of the greatest was letting her believe she meant nothing to him. Saul wanted to shout from the rooftops, tell everyone that she does mean something; that she means the world to him. 

Y/N is everything Saul ever wished for and while he learned to live without her, having her so close had rendered him incapable of imagining his life without her in it once more. 

Knocking on the wooden door, Saul held his breath. He pondered what he could say to convince her to be sensible, to hold his hand instead of a sword because he needs her. 

Saul needs her strength, her presence in his last days. He needs to hear her voice, to feel her warmth and he desperately needs her to forgive him. Even if she hates him, he wants her there when he takes his last breath and he hopes she’d be the one to eliminate him before he becomes a burned one. Sky shouldn’t have to do that.

“Y/N, please open the door.” Saul knocks again, unsure if she’s not opening the door because it’s him or because she’s actually already gone and if it’s the latter, he doesn’t know if he can handle that.

“Please”, he repeats but it falls on deaf ears. She’s not there. “Fuck”, Saul slams his fist on the doorframe, grunting as he turns around and heads back. He’s not sure where he’s going, but sleeping isn’t his priority anymore. He can’t sleep anyway, so why bother?

Finding his way to the lake, Saul lets out a sigh of relief once he spots a familiar woman sitting right in his favorite place at Alfea.

“You’re still here”, Saul states with a grin on his face. 

Looking up, Y/N’s eyes narrow ever so slightly as if she was looking for the perfect comeback but then her eyes fall to the crutch and her gaze softens.

“I just got back”, she speaks but her voice is hoarse as if she had spent the night screaming at the top of her lungs. Clearing her throat, she offers up her hand for Saul to take, helping him sit down beside her.

She takes note of his heavy breathing, swallowing thickly as she remembers the bloody wounds on his back and the dark, black veins spreading around them.

“I couldn’t find it”, she speaks through gritted teeth, her eyes on the moonlit lake before them. “I really thought I’d find it.” She presses her lips together to stop herself from saying anything else. She’s angry, bitter and devastated. 

“I’m glad.” Saul sighs, his eyes focused solely on her. She faces him with a glare, but he smiles nonetheless. “If I have to choose, I’d choose your life over mine.”

“What makes you think I wouldn’t do the same?” Y/N remarks, refusing to break eye contact. She’s constantly hoping the black ring surrounding his usually bright eyes would clear, that a miracle would occur and she’d see the ocean blue once again. 

Lips twitching, Saul lets out a breathless chuckle, “I thought you hate me.”

“I do”, Y/N confirms as she shrugs, “It’s a fine line”, she continues, “Love and hate, it’s all blurring for me.”

“So you love me?” Saul raises an eyebrow, hopeful. He’s barely containing himself from cupping her face and planting his lips on hers, but he’s waiting patiently - as patiently as possible with what little time he has left.

“I hate you for getting hurt and for forcing me to realize just how fucking in love I am with you even after a decade only to have you die on me.” She’s speaking fast, shaking her head as if she can’t believe her own words either but she’s unable to stop herself from saying what’s on her heart and has been since as long as she can remember.

“I’m sorry”, Saul whispers as she chuckles in disbelief.

“Yeah?”

Nodding, Saul smiles, “I’m not sorry for loving you. That I’ll never apologize for.” 

Rolling her eyes, she wets her lips. “Can you do one thing for me?” She asks quietly, her voice shaking as her lips quiver in anticipation of his answer.

She shattered his calm by smiling more deeply and holding out her hand. Instinctively, he took it, fingers closing firmly. Then he caught himself. His expression rigidly impassive, he looked down at her face, into her eyes, warm and alluring, and struggled to find some way to tell her this was madness. That, after all that went down between them, this isn’t how their story should end.

“Anything.” Saul breathes out.

Y/N gave him no time to wrestle with his conscience, she tugged and pulled herself up to sit in his lap, face to face. With no excuse forthcoming, Saul inwardly sighed, allowing his firm chest to graze hers.

She relaxed against him, warm and trusting, only to impinge on his senses in a thousand different ways. Her very softness tensed his muscles; her curves, fitting against him, within his arms, invoked his demons. He drew a steadying breath and her perfume washed through him, subtly evoking, enticing. Her hands slid over his arms, wrapped around her waist, and came to rest on his hands, her warm palms curved over the backs of his.

Swallowing thickly, she draws in a shuddered breath and whispers, “Don’t die.”

===========================

Tags: @organabanks @kingunder221b

[bokubear]

—honesty

— pairing ; sakusa kiyoomi x reader

— genre ; angst, rebellion, secret relationship

— chapter 5 ; this forbidden affair of ours

why do you make him feel this way? not even concoctions of aphrodites own tears could stir his heart in this way. he decided a long time ago that you had taken him by the reins. and it was up to you.

“what are we?” you had asked him, staring outside the window at the darkened sky. there wasn’t much to see, yet that was not the point. your hair billowed in the wind. you looked beautiful. but your minds flowered back to the time of making love. there was a distance.

“we are prisoners of our own hell.” sakusa did not hesitate nor waver in words. he knew this was true. because he was unsure what you actually were. lovers? we’re you lovers?

this stirred a laugh in your stomach.

“we are, aren’t we?” you finished off with a weak chuckle, watching him through the corner of your eye.

“quite possibly, but maybe we don’t have to be alone.” you turned to stare at him with those eyes that made his heart tug.

“my father.” he whispered, earning a grimace from you. he would kill both of you.

“are you willing to press that bruise? we will die here someday, might as well make the best of it.” you felt the tears beginning to prick at the corners of your eyes. this was either a start or a finish.

“yes.”

he answered that question with one word. one word that left you breathless against his lips for the second time now. maybe it just was a hookup for a sense of relief. maybe this was one-sided. but at the moment, neither of you cared of the conditions or details in the moment.

the only concern left on sakusa kiyoomi’s mind was how much skin he could reach, touch, caress. how much he could kiss and savor like a delicate flower. you were a small flower, white petals dancing so temptingly in this ocean of greed. blackened and infected with him.

when your eyes opened, nyx was standing over you— her hands waving in front of your face.

“y/n, it’s time to wake up, we need to prepare the dining hall.” she reminded, ushering you to get dressed.

well that would’ve been easy to understand, if your legs weren’t sore from the ruling night before. it hurt to even walk. truly upsetting. sakusa kiyoomi was surely a beast. annoying as cerberus with a toothache that is. unable to control his strength and power in those situations. a shame.

this was almost a routine. however over time, somedays you wouldn’t make love. you would simply talk. talk about many things. kiyoomi being curious about the world beyond the underworld. what it was like in olympus. childhoods, things like that.

lovers by night, master and servant by day.

how it has been, how it will be.

-maak

plagiarism, repost, and editing is prohibited

[dizzydancingdreamer]

The Servant and The Prince | Four

Mama Mia, here we go again lovelies!

Description: This is very much a Cinderella trope because I cannot help myself and I am in love with Loki, chapter four

Pairing: Loki x Female!Reader, third person as I may adapt eventually with an OC

Warnings: anger, mentions of abuse (not graphic), mentions of death (not graphic)

Tags: angst, fluff

Word count: 6.2k (oh god)

Previous | Next

Master List

Y/n’s heart thunders as she gazes up at the glittering golden gates of the castle. If she was not so bogged down with bags she would throw a hand over her brow��� a futile attempt to keep her eyes from burning out of their sockets. Do they really have to be this glittery? She thinks they are marvellous, that is not the problem. The problem is that she is not marvelous. Not in the slightest. Not worthy of such magnificent, splendid, rich architecture. She glances down at her simple dress— the loose green threads hanging from the side of the garment— she had meant to fix those— is this really where she must stay? Surely there must be a stable somewhere. A barn for animals like her.

“Come on you churl—” Estrid hisses, her demon-esq nails digging into her arm where her step mother’s hand curls over sleeve— “you are making us look bad. At least pretend to have some couth.”

Estrid drags her forward for a moment, ushering her— all but kicking her— through the blinding gates before losing interest and rushing to meet Anna. Y/n bites her tongue. There are many things she could say. It is almost strange just how many retorts rush to her tongue. They race through her skull, infecting her mind like a sort of mould. Unlike with the bread back home she cannot seem to pick away at it— she cannot make the bad spots go away.

Perhaps if they had not left her to carry all of their things then she would not be taking so long. Do they really believe the princes will spare their diamonds a glance anyway? They are sure to be able to smell the fakes from miles away!

Y/n blinks a few times at the roar of fire that swells in her chest, encasing her very lungs in flames, almost stumbling over the marble stairs beneath her. It feels as though if she does not scream right now— if she does not say everything on her mind, unleash this pent up resentment— then she will surely cook from the inside out. It bubbles, simmers, does the thing pots do when they begin to sizzle— like they are screaming but she is not screaming; she only wishes she was. But she has never wanted to scream and she has been through so much worse. What is one little name, one hand yanking her arm? It is nothing but still she is ready to let the flames engulf her and burn the entire city.

It is terrifying— this kind of all consuming rage.

Estrid turns back towards Y/n, who is still stumbling over the steps, always the faithful servant, and her step mother scoffs. Estrid mutters something under her breath that she cannot hear. An insult, no doubt. It does not reach her ears. There is no way she would have been able to hear it anyway, not over the sound of the flames disintegrating her bones and blood and flesh from the inside out. It makes her want to scream louder— harder, make the castle walls crumble the same way she feels like she is— loud enough to hear over the roar.

Can you not hear it? Do you not care? She can taste the words as they beg for mercy on her tongue, wanting nothing more than to die on the cobblestone before her, spat out in a string of venom like they are meant to be. Can they not see that she is burning to the ground?

She barely swallows the words— she can hear them crying as they pass her throat and she almost changes her mind. She almost sets them free. It is all she can do to bend her neck at her step mother, wonder if the flames are visible in her eyes, and try not to cough up smoke right here on the castle steps. That would be very unladylike— a dishonor on her family. Oh— wait— no it would not be. Her family is dead. She can vomit as much smoke and flames as her little, burning heart desires. She has no one left to bring shame to. Gods, she is so terrified.

Why she is terrified, she does not know. She has never been scared before— not like this.

She was scared of the dark for the longest time. She used to see shadows on her walls and under the waves in the wash basin and against the trees when her mother would make her fetch the cat before bed. She used to think that was true fear— the night. The shadows. The wash basin. But then the morning sun would come and fight the shadows— then her mother would empty the basin— and before long there was nothing left to be afraid of.

But then there was no mother to empty the wash basin and suddenly she was afraid of death and the dark. Surely death must be the greatest fear one can have. Right? The all consuming nothingness, the longest sleep, the unknown. What could be scarier than the unknown? Than losing the people she loves the most and being left to wonder where they are and what they are doing— if they can even do anything— and are they okay? Please, someone just tell her, are they okay? She is not okay.

Darkness and death— death and darkness. At least those were always the scariest things and at least she had overcome them— both of them. There is nothing scarier than those two things. Except, apparently, herself. That is all there is left to be afraid of. Not Estrid or Anna, not pain. Not him. Those are all things she has survived. Overcome. Enjoyed. There is only herself to be afraid now, and the overwhelming, unbearable anger unfurling in her chest and arms and neck and skull. She is terrified of herself.

She is terrified of the anger.

“This way ladies— your chambers are this way!”

Y/n blinks— certain her eyelashes are singed and the blur in her vision is from the smoke in her eyes— and finds that she is no longer on the marble steps but in a long hallway. Pillars rise to her left, showcasing an expansive forest and a smudge of blue that must be the ocean. It feels so close— she can see the waves cresting with white foam so it must be. She can smell the salt, like it is right next to her. She can almost feel the surf lapping at her toes, cooling some of the burning tingle. She would do anything for it to rush up her legs. Soak her dress. Make her skin sticky. She would take the stickiness over the relentless flames. There is no time, though, to take her moment of peace. No time for stickiness. There never is.

“Are you deaf?” Estrid’s hand presses down on her spine, right where the bruises are from the last time the two came in contact. “Move! I will not take kindly to getting the worst chamber because of your dawdling.”

Are the bruises purple? She wonders. Perhaps they are red and black— like molten lava, shifting under her skin. She does not voice her musings aloud, of course. She swallows those thoughts alongside the rest of them. She can feel the precise way they fall on top of their partners, each wasted syllable mushing into the last. They fill her aching belly all the way, pressing on the hollow dip of her throat. If her thoughts were food she would never be hungry again.

Of course, she does not say any of that. Instead she bows her head, eating the flames as they rise. She is so full already though. “I am very sorry, Milady.”

Estrid scoffs. “You should be. Henry should have drowned you at birth had he known you would be so slow.”

At the sound of her father’s name her head snaps up. Estrid is already walking away again, hurrying to meet her impatient daughter. Anna taps her heel against the marble. Click, click, click. Each tap makes her head pound harder. Soon she cannot hear the clicks anymore. Her father would never do anything of the sort— her father was kind! They are not looking at her anymore. They cannot see the smoke billowing from her ears. They cannot see the blackness she feels flashing across her vision. They cannot see the hate. Just like she cannot see the bruises. Are they purple? Are they scarlet? What would her father think of them? She cannot see the bruises but she can feel them. Hot and itchy and painful. Can they feel the hatred? Are they just ignoring it like she is ignoring the volcanic bruises?

Probably. And they are not the only ones. Y/n weaves through the crowded hallway, dodging women of all shapes and colors— quite literally, she narrowly passes a woman with purple tinted skin— all of whom spare her not even a glance. It makes her feel invisible. It makes feel like she can finally breathe. It makes her angry. She is breathing the smoke again. Every face that passes her that does not look at her makes her charcoal lungs ignite even more. Her only solace is the all too familiar feeling of being split in two. The anger is not wholly her own— it is his as well. She can feel him in her chest, that aching part of her anger where he demands to be seen.

Is he mad at her?

She stops dead in her tracks. Just like that, her own anger is gone, replaced with something ice cold and unbearable. It starts in her hands. Her wrists begin aching— freezing— as the ice flows up through her veins. She thought the fire was bad. She takes it all back in this moment— she wants the flames again. The ice is in her chest now. She can feel it creeping closer to her heart. She wants the anger back. Her anger. Why would he be angry with her?

Does he hate her? She can no longer feel her heart beating— the ice has done its job. It is after her throat now, climbing higher and higher. What would it feel like to throw up shards of Ice? Nevermind, she does not want to know. She had wanted to scream before. She had wanted to burn the kingdom down with her voice and words and screams. Now she cannot even whimper. Her tongue is frozen. Her knees hit the floor— she does not feel it. Maybe it does not even happen, maybe her eyes are just frozen now and playing tricks on her. They make her feel as though she is falling— pull the ground from under her and send her vision spinning— but perhaps she is still standing. Still following. Still invisible.

Why would he hate her?

She watches as feet pass by her, heels and boots of all colors all slowing when they cross her path. Well, maybe they are slowing. Maybe that is just her mind continuing to play tricks on her though. She would not be able to tell the difference right now— if there is one, that is. She cannot look past the soles of the shoes, cannot meet the eyes of those passing her. She is stuck— her neck which was so hot only moments ago now stiff. To think that a simple thought could send her reeling in such a grand way as to literally floor her. It is almost impressive, actually. If she could feel anything other than the crushing, ice cold weight on her shoulders then perhaps she would laugh.

To think that a nameless, faceless man could make her feel such torrential and devastating emotions. Anger and sadness. Longing and desperation. It is unreal the things he makes her feel. Otherworldly things. Impossible, tragic, wonderful things. There is no way that any of it is real. She must be losing her mind. She wishes she was losing her mind. Her chest zaps where the emerald ring hits her sternum, tied to a thin strap of leather around her neck, the ice melting for a fraction of a second. It taps against her skin as her hands meet the marble floor, a gentle reminder that this— he— is real. Gods. A measure of the anger sparks back up and this time she knows that it is entirely her own.

When she was a little girl she used to watch the dust devils in her neighbours corn field. Her father would watch with her sometimes. One of those times he explained what was happening. He told her that wind only spirals like that when the cold air meets the hot air. When that happens— and the temperatures collide— they begin to fight. Imagine them like two rivals, her father had said. The cold air grabs the hot air’s hair. In turn the hot air kicks out at the cold air’s knees. They keep doing that— kicking and shoving and biting and pulling— until finally their limbs are but a blur. That is all a dust devil is, my girl— two rivals fighting. She had not thought to ask him what happens when the cold air and the hot air are not rivals— she had not thought to ask what would happen if the hot air and the cold air were actually lovers. Would the same thing happen? Those little dust devils? Would it be better?

Would it be worse?

Much like most things in her life, she does not know the answer to that. All she knows is that she can feel the air— be them rivals or lovers— punching and kicking, kissing and touching, in her chest and it hurts. All she knows is that if he is real then he better come and get her right now before her body caves to the icy fire tornado that is swirling in her lungs. She is going to implode.

“My dear—” a warm hand lands on her shoulder and it is like magic the way her thoughts are silenced, leaving behind nothing but a harsh ringing in her ears— “are you alright? That was quite the spill you just took.”

Whoever is speaking to her has a voice that is like honey and silk. It wraps around her, soothing every ache in her weary body. The hand rubs a circle into her shoulder, not letting her go, and she begins to thaw, the ice around her eyes and throat and heart melting away in seconds. Not back to the anger— no, that is long gone, a mere thought in the back of her mind— but instead to a new feeling. She is neither ice nor fire— she is springtime. She is warm and calm, her fingers flexing against the marble like small creatures emerging from hibernation. She curls them a few times, relishing in the blood as it returns to her hands and the way it does not feel as though it is burning her. It is not fire, it is just blood.

“Do you think you can get up?” The soft voice is right next to her ear now and she closes her eyes for a moment. It sounds so familiar— so gentle. She never thought she would hear that voice again. “I think maybe we should go to the healers— just in case, my dear.”

She can smell it now— the yeast. The berries. She takes a deep breath in and she can taste the strawberry jam on her lips like she is eight years old again. Her father used to always sneak her an extra pastry after dinner. They would split it on the back porch, their fingers sticky and their laughter twisting into the twilight. Her mother must have known— she was meticulous. She was so aware of the things around her at all times. She was beautiful and kind and made the best jam in the entire realm.

“Mother?” The word slips off her tongue instinctively. Naturally. She cannot stop it because, for a moment, it is as though she is right next to the woman she misses most. It is as though everything is okay again.

Y/n lifts her head— she finally can, her neck is no longer stiff with ice— her eyes landing on a woman with flowing golden hair that twists and curls against her chest. It is not her mother. Her chest squeezes. She knows that it should not— it was never going to be her mother and she knows that— but she cannot help but feel deflated. If there was ever a time for a miracle it would be right now. Preferably a miracle that makes the best strawberry pastries and gives hugs that feel like taking a warm bath. She shakes her head lightly, clearing the thought and the mist that has begun to gather in her eyes. It is not the time for sentimentality.

The woman— the woman who is not her mother— has soft blue eyes— iridescent almost— that bore into her own. There is a ring around her pupils where the blue turns to a darker coal. For a moment it looks like the ring is pulsing. The longer Y/n looks into her eyes the deeper she falls into them. It does not feel as much like drowning as one would think. It is a softer kind of falling— it is as though the woman can see every inch of her soul with a simple look. Her aroma strengthens, changing slightly. The yeast is no longer present— that was only ever her imagination— and now there is a strong, flowery scent. It is strangely intoxicating.

She has to blink a few times, turning away for a taste of fresh air, her gaze falling to the woman’s flowing silk gown. It is a delicate ivory number with beautiful embroidery all over the bust. Little flowers. Perhaps that is where the scent is coming from, wafting off the garden around her collarbone. She really is springtime.

The woman laughs and the flowers sway, moved by a breeze of breath and glee. “Oh my darling, I think you just confirmed my thoughts. Let's get you up, alright? See if we can find someone to take a look at you. Your head must be pounding.”

She is like an oasis in the desert. Y/n has never been to the desert but still— this is what she imagines it would feel like. Gentle and easy, like a cool breeze or a patch of shade. It would feel like the soothing touch of this woman’s hands as she pulls her body from its heap on the ground, wrapping an arm around her waist to keep her from toppling right over again. Her legs feel unstable and her knees are shaking but everything is okay. But oasis’ are just figments of the imagination— or at least this one is. They are doomed to fizzle away eventually, taking with them the joyful shade and leaving behind the scorching heat.

As the golden woman begins to turn with her, no doubt pulling her in the direction of the supposed healers, there is an ear piercing screech.

“There you are! You were supposed to be following us you dense child.” Estrid is in front of Y/n in seconds, her narrowed eyes locked on her and the familiar, gut wrenching sneer on her scarlet lips. “It is like you never listen on purpose— you just mill about in your own little world. Always about Y/n, never about anyone else.”

The fire from before— the scorching heat— begins bubbling in the pit of her stomach. It splashes like tar, slowly coating her insides in that all consuming hate. She bites her tongue, clenching her jaw. She can still feel the woman’s hand on her shoulder. There is still a piece of the oasis and she clings to it. But even that is being consumed— the touch melting into the lightning in her veins. She is definitely going to explode.

Her step mother takes a step towards her but halts, her eyes darting to the floor where they stay for a long moment. When her neck snaps back up she is positively fuming. “You dropped our things! Why you ungrateful little brat, I—”

In less than the blink of an eye she is no longer looking at her step mother but rather at the back of a blonde head, her hand laced with a hand so soft she would think it an evening glove.

“This young woman has tripped.” The blonde woman’s voice is calm still but holds no more of that gentle tread. Her hand squeezes softly, a contrast to her firm tone. “I will be escorting her to the healers to see what has happened.”

Estrid blinks, her eyes darting away from Y/n and up to the new woman. When she does her entire face goes pale, as though she has seen a ghost. How odd.

“Your Majesty.” Estrid bows her head, her knees bending slightly in a curtsy.

Your Majesty? Y/n’s eyes drift back to the gown— the marvelous ivory silk. It is as though all the little details begin appearing in that moment. The high thread count, the intricate stitching at the waist and bodice, the gemstone bracelet on her dainty wrist. That bracelet alone must be worth more than her entire life. Sapphires and rubies and emeralds. She wears it as though she has no idea how much it is worth— as though she has no idea it is even there at all. She wears it as though she is royalty and she has many more of them in her room.

Oh no— no, no, no.

The blonde woman turns back to her, her crystal eyes softening marginally from what she can only imagine was an icy stare moments ago. “Come on, dear. I will take you to my healer.”

Y/n shakes her head, her eyes wide. Her spine aches as she does. Her mouth feels like it is filled with cotton. She cannot speak but she has to. She has to refuse.

“No, no, your Majesty—” She copies Estrid’s greeting, she does not know what else to call her— “I am alright, truly. I do not wish to burden you further. I will—” She pauses, woozy all of a sudden, the salty breeze ten times stronger— “I will be fine.”

The woman’s crystal eyes narrow but not in the sharp way her step mother’s usually do. “My child, I insist. You do not look well.”

Y/n can practically feel Estrid’s stare burrowing into the side of her face. She can feel the bruises on her back— perhaps purple, perhaps yellow. It does not matter. If she does not go now then they will surely be black in an hour. Less. There it is— there is the fear she had been missing. She wobbles slightly on her feet. The salt air mingles with the pine trees. It is intoxicating— it is deadly. She is going to pass out if she does not move. She shakes her head at the woman, hoping there is something in her eyes that conveys the danger she feels.

“I am alright,” even she can hear the pleading tone in her voice. “Please.”

The woman— the Queen— stares at her for a moment. It is only a few seconds, the coal ring around her pupils pulsing gently, but it feels like days. It feels like a lifetime. She purses her rosy lips, taking a deep breath.

A hand— one much more rough and hot— wraps around her other wrist. “Your Majesty—” Estrid’s nasally voice is high pitched, like she is attempting to hide her cruel intentions— “my daughter just needs to sleep I think. I can take over from here.”

Y/n forces a smile to her lips— one that tastes like metal and blood— like betrayal— hoping it is enough to convince the queen. She adds a little nod in there for good measure. It is all about appearances. For a moment she thinks it is actually going to work. The Queen’s shoulders sag gently, her chin dipping down in a partial nod. It is actually working— maybe she will not get punished too harshly. She will pick up the bags and hurry to their room and stay as silent as a mouse and everything will be fine. Right?

Estrid squeezes her wrist harder— enough to make her bones whine in pain— and she can feel the on her face grin falter. It is for only a fraction of a second, the corner of her lips peeling down in a grimace that she cannot suppress, but it is enough. By the time she has painted the fake smile back on her face the Queen is at her side, that silky hand curling around her shoulder, gentle but firm enough to pull her away from her step mother. Y/n does not know if she would rather thank her or cry.

“I am afraid I truly must insist. As a Queen—” She stresses the word, her title. This is no longer a suggestion; it is an order— “it is my duty to ensure that all my guests are properly taken care of. It will not take long; just a quick check up.”

The Queen’s hand ushers her a couple steps down the hallway. Estrid follows, her brows pulled together dramatically. “But your Highness, I—”

The Queen holds up her hand, an elegant and dangerous gesture, her kind face cracking under the weight of her furious eyes. She does not even try to conceal the rage swimming in the crystal pools. She does not have to— she will face no repercussion for her anger.

“But nothing. She is to go with me and that is final.” Her burning crystals glance down to the bags, all of which are still spilling over onto the marble, draping the stone with bits of lace and silk, none of which look nearly as exquisite as the Queen’s gown. “I will send someone to gather your belongings and return them to your chambers. Now, if you will kindly excuse us.”

With that she is spinning, pressing her hand gently against Y/n’s back and leading her back in the direction she had come from. She can feel Estrid’s glare on her neck, burning holes in the back of her head. If stares were able to kill then she would be laying in a heap on the marble again, she just knows it. Soon, though, they turn a corner and she can no longer feel her step mother’s lethal gaze. That does not stop her heart from racing so hard that she wonders if it will jump out of her chest. It does not stop the vomit from pooling in her throat. She should feel relieved—grateful— but all she can think about is the pain. Both the pain she is in now and the pain she will be in later.

“It was okay really,” she mutters. It is a last ditch effort, one that is destined to fail before it is even out of her mouth, but she has to try anyway. “I am okay. I think I just slipped.”

She did not slip— she lost it. She does not know quite what it is but she knows whatever it is has been lost. Her sanity. Her grip on reality. Her damn mind. Any and all of them, now gone.

The queen stops, turning her bright blue eyes on her once more. She sighs, her smile understanding. “I think if you had slipped then you would have gotten back up.”

The Queen’s tone is pitying, her fingers gentle on her hand, and Y/n drops her eyes to the ground. She resents it— all of it. She does not want pity. “I needed a moment is all.”

A hand presses under her chin, bringing her gaze back up. There is no more smile on the Queen’s face— only a firmness in her eyes. She does not look so much like a Queen here; she looks like a mother. Her mother. She can see some of her own mother in the faint lines near her eyes and the cupid's bow above her rose petal lips. She has to bite down to keep the ache from her throat at bay.

“That was not a moment, my dear. I was there. That was quite a few moments. You were ready to let those girls trample you, were you not?”

“I— I just—” she swallows hard, trying to make her words work. It seems like she cannot string a sentence together for the life of her. Like her entire vocabulary has vanished— “I needed a moment, your Majesty. That is all.” All she can do is repeat herself.

The Queen narrows her eyes, her thumb smoothing over her jaw before she finally releases her. “Frigga.”

Y/n’s heart stutters and she has to cover her cough from the way all the air whooshes out of her lungs. “Pardon me, your Majesty?”

“Please, call me Frigga.”

This time her heart does not just stutter; it stops completely. She presses a hand against her chest, taking a tiny step backwards. She cannot breathe again. The smile on the Queen’s— Frigga’s— face is too kind. Too gentle. Too much. This is not a trick, she is not trying to get her in trouble. She is not telling her to shut up or to hurry up or to grow up. She is just being kind. No one is kind to her. Not even when they want something from her. What could the Que— Frigga, Y/n, her name is Frigga— possibly want from her? What could she give her that would mean anything more than what she already has? She sucks in a breath, sounding quite like a dying animal in the middle of the thankfully empty corridor. It is too much— it is all too much.

“No, I could not. You Maj—”

Frigga grabs her hand again, her warm skin stilling her own, clammy hands. “Calm child. It is alright. You are alright” Her words are slow, her tone a low murmur. It works wonders on her nerves. It is magic. “Frigga. Please, nobody here calls me anything formal. You should hear my sons.” The side of her mouth quirks up, her tone becoming teasing, “mother, where is father? That is all anyone around here says to me. I am not used to such formalities. I would prefer Frigga, my dear.”

Y/n takes another breath, nodding her head.

“Y/n—” she whispers back, not sure what else to do besides introduce herself back— “my name is Y/n.”

Frigga’s smile grows, nodding as well. She makes it feel like this is a normal exchange— like they are just two new friends meeting for the first time. “That is a lovely name.”

The Queen turns after that, pulling her once more to continue walking down the grand hallway. They move in silence, Frigga no doubt trying to give her some room to breathe. It is surprisingly easy to just be there with her. It is serene. She stares out past the pillars as they walk, her eyes dipping back to the faraway shoreline. Now the water is sparkling in the high afternoon sun, the cresting waves catching the light and bouncing it back and forth amongst each other. It is as though each wave that passes winks at her before smoothing against the sand. She cannot tell if they are saying hello or goodbye. Perhaps neither. Perhaps they are just acknowledging that she is there. She bows her chin gently, acknowledging them as well.

She does not know how long they walk for, her attention too focused on the blinking shore, but soon Frigga is pulling open a heavy wooden door— one that has the most intricate carvings on it’s frame that Y/n longs to stare at in depth—and tugging her in behind her. She has no idea what she is expecting— maybe a herb closet and a long table for practicing healing— it is a healer’s closet after all— but whatever it is, what she sees is not it. She is not expecting the most exquisite room in all of existence.

The first thing her eyes fall to is a wonderfully large pool of water sitting in the middle of the room. It must be the size of her entire bedroom, which granted is not that large but in comparison to her own tiny tin basin at home this is pure luxury. The sides of the pool are golden and tiled with colorful gemstones. She cannot even name all them, not recognizing half of the stones. They catch the light pouring in from the expansive balcony, sparkling against each other. There are steps leading up the side, promising entry into the luscious looking water. Altogether it is hypnotizing, calling her name until she is taking a few stuttered steps towards it. As she gets closer she can smell the fragrant oils, much more rich than anything she is used to.

“Oh my.”

“It is quite something, I will admit.” Frigga laughs from behind her, meeting her next to the edge of the tub. She dips her hand into the water, submerging the expensive bracelet in the water without a care. “It was a present from Odin for our first anniversary. I was just as shocked. I did not leave this room for weeks. I even slept here, can you imagine that?”

“I think I would as well, if I were you. It is stunning.” She, too, dips her hand below the water. She almost gasps at how warm it is— at how soft the water is. “I have never seen anything like it.”

Frigga pulls her hand from the water, shaking the droplets lightly from her skin. She turns back to Y/n, her crystal eyes sparkling with joy. “Perhaps later— only if you would like, of course— you could try it.”

Her mouth falls open, her own hand, still swirling through the silky water, pausing. “Oh no, your Maj—” Frigga purses her lips, her eyes crinkling gleefully— “Frigga, I could not.”

The Queen laughs again and she can hear the way her own mother used to giggle. “Of course you can my dear. In fact, you must! But first let us eat.”

Y/n’s brows pull together— what about the healers? Is that not why she is here?

Frigga must notice her confusion because she lifts her hand to her face, the Queen’s fingers now scented like rose petals. “I have found that the best medicine is a full belly, would you not agree?”

Instantly the tears well up in her eyes again. They are not from sadness this time— nor from longing— instead they are from the relief she feels coursing through her body. It is so foreign that she does not recognize it at first. It is neither hot nor cold. There is no pressure on her chest alerting her to it. In fact there is nothing. She feels nothing. It is exhilarating.

She does not notice the first tear fall until Frigga’s thumb catches it. “Thank you.”

The Queen sighs, her smile faltering. It is still there but barely. “Come, child.”

Y/n follows Frigga to the balcony, passing under some gem coloured curtains and into the warm sunlight. She almost freezes in her tracks, the memory of the last time her back was in the sun still fresh on her mind. Her mind falls back to the man, her nose filling with salt and pine which leaks in from the gardens below. She can feel his hands on her back, crawling over her hips. She does not wonder what color her back is this time— be it purple or yellow or molten red— it does not matter anymore. For some reason the thought of him makes it not matter anymore. He makes it better.

Frigga turns on her heel, her eyes lighting up, her hands shooting out to grasp Y/n’s shoulders. It is all she can do not to reel back from the suddenness of the action, wobbling slightly but smiling. She, in turn, reaches for the Queen’s hands, steadying herself on her silken skin.

“I completely forgot my dear, I told my son to meet me here for afternoon tea. You do not mind, do you?”

Y/n’s breath catches in her throat, her memories surging again. She can taste him on her lips for a brief moment. A short, silly moment. She pushes him down, shaking her head lightly to clear her thoughts. That would be impossible.

“No, of course not this is your home.”

Frigga squeezes her shoulders. “Wonderful!”

As the blonde woman releases her, moving to sit in one of the golden chairs on the balcony, there is a voice that sounds from the door. It is deep, impossibly so, and sends shivers racing down her spine.

“Mother, are you in here?”

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Tag list: @crystal-siren

[mf-despair-queen]

Stranded - Thomas

Author: @mf-despair-queen

Pairing: Thomas/Reader

Word Count: 11,426

Summary: You hated him. You despised him. He was arrogant for what he had done, taking down WICKED. He was the reason that your friends had died in the attack. But, when you find yourself stuck at sea, or even worse, stranded on a deserted island with Thomas, you find yourself realizing you were wrong. 

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Unprotected Sex, Oral, Choking, Sex in the Water, kinda public sex I guess?, Multiple Orgasms, Dirty Talk

Notes: I guess I live??? I guess I still write. I don’t even know anymore y’all. I’m sorry I don’t post often these days. And I’m sorry this is as late as it is. It was meant for @writingsbychlo​‘s Thomas month three months ago but between work and laziness, I didn’t finish on time. Because, essentially, I suck ass. And tbh, I’m not incredibly happy with the outcome of this. It could have been way better than it was because I loved the idea a lot. But at this point, it’s as good as it’s going to get and I just want it done and out there. Hope y’all enjoy it. Big thanks to @roscoeknows​ and @brien-odylan​ for always pushing me with this, and @jagked-up​ for being a sweetie and proofreading for me. 

“Gather around everyone!” Vince yelled, his voice dictating the crowd of survivors to the beach front for the early morning discussions. You flopped to the sandy ground, wrapping your arms loosely around your knees that were tucked into your chest. Sharing a few nods with your friends as they passed by, you avoided the gaze of the ex-WICKED test subjects from maze A.

Many of the boys were kind and you got along with easily, but it was the tall, dark haired former runner that never struck you right. Upon learning that he had worked with WICKED growing up, and the downfall of the Right Arm shortly after his arrival, you decided to stay clear of the man, choosing to never forgive him for ruining the home you worked so hard for - causing the death of those who were close to you and raised you to who you are now. That, and he always seemed to be full of himself for his help in saving many people and stopping WICKED. 

Well, that’s what you heard from some of your closest friends at least. 

You had never truly interacted with the male for long periods of time. It was always in passing during dinner or around camp while getting work done. He would occasionally try to strike up a conversation, but you gave some excuse before running off, letting out a huff of annoyance that he would never get the hint. His aura was aggravating without reason, but you had no plans to befriend the amnesiac. 

Turning your gaze towards Vince, who stood upon a rickety stage made of driftwood and fallen branches along the edge of the forest behind camp that you feared would break under his heavy, muscled stature and weighted boots, your ears perked up to hear his morning announcements.

“Good morning everyone,” he called, voice as authoritative as ever. “Based on some recent discussions and feedback from everyone for their tasks around the Safe Haven we have decided to try out a new method for jobs. Moral has been low because people have been mentioning that they have felt things have gone stale because they’ve been doing the same job every day since we situated here, free of infection, free from WICKED."

“So, in an attempt to raise the mood around here, we will be testing out a lottery draw for daily tasks. Remember, this is just a trial run to see how people like it and I think it’ll be good for everyone to be familiar with all of the jobs. And so you are all aware, there will be no job swapping. Once you choose something, that is what you’ll be doing for that day.”

You pouted at yourself, huffing in annoyance. A lottery? Seriously? There were a number of jobs you wished to avoid, namely the ones that involved tending to the pigs that were being raised and handling slimy things that made you cringe. To top it off, you would potentially have to work with people you didn’t know or get along with instead of the people you knew you could stand for more than a few hours.

“We have set up a station outside the dining commons for you to choose your job for the day. And we’ll get some feedback during dinner to see how things went. We’ll decide after a couple weeks if we want to keep it like this, try something new, or go back to how it was before. So please everyone, line up to draw your job for the day.”

You let out a heavy sigh, watching numerous people rush towards the job drawing, uttering something about wanting to be first in line or hoping that they have a better chance at a better task. You were slow to stand, regrettably joining the line of people while patting the sand off your backside. Silently praying you didn’t get struck with a case of bad luck for once, you watched people one by one choose their jobs. Some cheered while others wept, being consoled by their friends. Your own friends - or the group you typically hung with - chose their jobs, luckily ending up in the same task of harvesting the gardens.

Your eyes narrowed on the group of former test subjects that chatted happily after choosing their jobs. Minho, the hulky athletic male of the group, flexed and laughed at his choosing of forest running, gathering food and wood for the village. Newt, the timid brainiac that was lucky to have survived not only a stab wound but the Flare as well, was working the medical room, which he seemed pleased about. Whereas Thomas, your least favorite person in the Safe Haven, was silent, showing an awkward, lopsided smile that you couldn’t read. Was he happy about his job? Disappointed? Apathetic? 

Who cares.

You turned from the trio as you approached the box yourself, staring one of the leaders named Mark in the eye. With a short nod at the older gentleman, you stuck your small hand through the hold in the top, feeling the dwindled number of papers inside. One last inaudible prayer later, you were pulling the slip out, eyes clenched shut and bated breath. 

Your heart fell when you finally cracked your eyes open, seeing the words sloppily written on the strip. Fishing. You dreaded fishing. As much as you loved to eat the seafood that was brought back each day, you couldn’t stand the task itself. You hated the tedious task of dropping a net or sitting with a pole, waiting for something to happen while the boat that you felt would capsize with ease, swaying with the ocean waves. Add in dealing with the fish, grabbing at their slimy, scaly bodies while they wiggled aimlessly was less than appealing.

Why, of all things, did you have to draw fishing?

You let your thoughts consume you as you dragged your feet towards the beach where the small boat was waiting. With the lack of resources, and a recently lost boat from a hole in the bottom, only two people that could go fishing at the moment. There was a stockpile in the Safe Haven, luckily, but no one wanted to let the supply drop too low too fast. Your thoughts drifted to who you could be paired with. Hopefully it was someone that could manage for you both, that enjoyed fishing more than you. Maybe you would get paired with Gally, or even Aris. They were people that could manage stuff like this.

“Hey Y/N.”

With a screech, you fell forward into the sand, caught off guard at the deep voice before you. The person cursed, rushing forward to help you up. A somewhat tanned, veiny hand extended towards you, appearing in your sight to counter the grainy ground under you that your knees and hands were buried in. 

“Thanks,” you mumbled, a blush spreading over your cheeks as you took their hand. But the blush disappeared, your face paling when you realized who it was. Thomas stood before you, helping you to stand to your feet. He gave a toothy smile, staring at you with chocolate hazelnut eyes. The sparkle in his orbs diminished slightly when you slid your hand from his, turning away to brush off your jeans. “Oh, hi Thomas.”

“Don’t sound so thrilled to see me,” he sarcastically bit, tilting his head. You scoffed at him, earning a frown from the man. 

“What are you doing here?” you asked shortly.

Thomas rose a brow, turning and pointing at the small boat that was sitting on the shore, already filled with the various fishing supplies you would need. “I drew fishing today,” he said, turning back to you. “I assume you did too?”

“Great,” you mumbled under your breath, letting out a sigh. Holding up the small paper for him to see, you spoke up, “Yeah. I’m unfortunately fishing today.”

“Unfortunate because you hate fishing?” He asked. You were about to nod in confirmation before he continued. “Or, unfortunate because you’re with me?”

At his harsh statement, you frowned, gaping at the man. You struggled to find the right words for him, mouth opening and closing a few times before you managed to utter one word. “Thomas…”

“Come on,” he cut you off, nodding towards the small boat, giving that same awkward smile as before. “We have fishing to do and I’d rather not get bitched at by Vince later.”

That made you snicker, nodding in agreement. “Same though.”

Before long, you were rowing out into the middle of the ocean, the shoreline disappearing. You struggled to prepare the nets and rods, not wanting to watch Thomas row the boat. You hated to admit, but up close, he was handsome. And with him straining his muscles to row, you could easily see his biceps flexing through his dark blue shirt. The sleeves ended just below his elbow, so you had a clear shot of the veins that protruded along his arms. 

It was a struggle not to watch him, constantly reminding yourself that you didn’t care for the man before you after everything that happened. 

An uncomfortable silence settled between you both when he settled on a spot that seemed to be flourishing with fish. The net was dropped and the rods were cast. You sat in the boat away from each other, staring off into the distance with your backs together, the waiting game upon you. The sun was slowly moving overhead, taunting you with the passage of time. Despite the abundance of fish, nothing seemed to be biting.

Your heart was steadily hammering faster, yet you couldn’t tell if it was because you were sitting alone with Thomas or if it was because every jostle of the boat left you anxious. Thomas seemed to notice your skittish nature behind him, feeling your body jerk and tremble every time the boat would rock more than the last time.

“Are you ok?” he asked, turning to look at you over his shoulder. The second he asked, the boat shook, making you squeal in surprise. 

“Fuck, I’m going to die,” you cried, placing the rod aside and resting your elbows on your knees. Thomas blinked, placing his own rod down so he could turn and stare at you.

“Come again?”

“Don’t you get it? I’m too young to die at sea!” you cried louder. The boat shook again, making you squeak once more. “Fuck, I swear that has got to be a shark. This is something straight out of Jaws!”

“...Jaws?”

“Yeah, you know,” you ranted, turning to face him. “That classic movie about the shark that was terrorizing Amity Beach? They had like… three sequels? It was a massive shark that would come and kill people!”

“I… don’t know.”

“Well, what about 47 Meters Down? Granted, we don’t have a diving cage, but we could basically be surrounded by sharks and we have nowhere to go. We are in the middle of the ocean, Thomas!”

“I don’t know that one either.”

“How could you not know them?” you hollered.

Thomas scoffed. “Well, excuse me for losing my memory while in the maze.”

“But I thought you got some memories back from that… that one thing.” You faintly remember hearing about that from your friends. 

“I remembered stuff about WICKED. Doesn’t mean I remember your shitty movies!” he snapped. 

You growled at him. “God, why are you such an asshole?”

“Why are you such a bitch?” he huffed.

“Thanks for the compliment. I know I’m a babe in total control of herself,” was your smug response, flashing him a smirk. Thomas rolled his eyes, turning away from you. 

“God, why did I have to get stuck with you?” he grumbled. 

“Because I’m obviously amazing,” you told him, turning to stare at the horizon.

“Fuck you.”

“You would like that.”

You expect him to retort, but he said nothing. You blinked in confusion, turning back to him. He wasn’t facing you, so you only got the backside of his head. Your face fell, a sorrowful thump in your chest making it ache. For some reason, you felt bad for his silence, afraid you had done something wrong. It felt as though his mood dropped, and you couldn’t pinpoint why.

Instead of asking though, you turned and picked up the rod, hoping something would bite soon. 

“You know,” he spoke up suddenly, making you jump. “I know you don’t like me.”

Shocked, you turned to him, only to find he still wasn’t facing you. “What? Thomas, no. I don’t-”

“I understand though,” he murmured. “You were happy with the Right Arm before we came. And then within one day, everything you knew and loved was lost. You lost those who practically raised you, like Mary. And it’s all my fault.”

“Thomas…”

“I’ve been trying to make amends for what happened. I know I can’t change what happened, but I wanted to apologize. And you’re the last person I need to apologize to for what happened. I really fucked up that day and I feel bad that I caused so many problems. But you never give me the chance to apologize to you because you are always ignoring me.”

You stared down at your feet, guilt washing over you. This entire time, you had scrutinized him for what he had done and what had happened, judging him for things of his past. You never took the chance to learn who he was and understand how he was feeling. You sighed softly, shifting in your seat, letting silence befall you again.

The boat shook, making you gasp, grasping at the edges of the boat. “Oh my god. What the fuck was that?”

Thomas chuckled. “It was just the waves, Y/N. Calm down.”

“If I get eaten by a shark-” The boat shook more, making you both stumble slightly in the uneven waves. “Oh my god. It’s Jaws!”

“There is no Jaws!”

“I’m too young to die at sea! Why did I have to get ‘fishing’? If I was going to die, why couldn’t I, oh I don’t know, follow the butterflies?” you bellowed. “Fuck, I hate the ocean. Nothing good ever happens out here.”

“Y/N-”

“Is it Jaws?!” 

Thomas turned quickly in his seat, just as you turned to face him, wrapping his arms around you. 

“Hold on!”

Your eyes widened, feeling the boat shake and shift, being tossed around as the water around you grew aggressive. Your skin paled, barely managing to take a gulp of air before the large wave that was hurtling towards you crashed into the boat, sending you and Thomas toppling into the dark ocean. The waves pushed you around, Thomas barely able to keep his grasp on you.  

Your head was spinning.

Your eyes were blurry and unfocused, burning from the salt water.

Your throat ached, wanting to breathe air that wasn’t present as you struggled to figure out which way was up.

Your vision slowly blurred, going black before long, suffocating on the water around you.

~

A burst of air filled your lungs, your body retching to rid itself of water. You were turned on your side as the water escaped, low heaves and coughs leaving you. When you managed to catch your breath, breathing normally, you flopped back onto your back, staring up at the blue sky. Blinking a few times, you tried to remember what happened.

“Are you ok?” Thomas spoke beside you.

That’s when it hit. You turned to him, eyes slowly widening. You jumped to your feet, stumbling around to look at your surroundings. There was a forest on one side, and the ocean on the other. Wood from the destroyed boat was still washing onto the shore, some of your belongings that managed to survive were scattered in the sand. Nothing was in sight around you - no Safe Haven close to return to.  

You glanced down at Thomas, taking note of his dripping wet locks that stuck to his forehead. His shirt and pants clung to his limbs, making his chest and arms stick out more, accentuating the thick thighs you never took the time to notice. Sand stuck to his wet skin, but he didn’t seem fazed by the grainy substance. He was panting, slouched in the sand before where you form once laid.

“Be careful,” he called. “Don’t rush too fast. You just woke up from nearly drowning.”

“Where are we?” you asked. 

“I don’t know,” he hummed lowly. “When I finally managed to get us to the surface, this is where we had ended up.”

“So, are you trying to say,” you choked, crouching down into a ball. “That we are stranded?”

“I think so.”

“I’m stranded here with you?” Thomas nodded. You groaned, taking a handful of sand and throwing it away from you both. “Fuck!”

“Y/N, calm down-”

You didn’t listen, rushing to the edge of the water. The waves splashed around your already wet feet, your shoes sinking into the wet sand. “Hello?” you called loudly, cupping your mouth to amplify your voice. “Can anyone hear me? Help! We are stuck out here!”

“Hey, hey. Stop that,” Thomas called, standing from his seat and making his way towards you. He took your hands as you continued to scream into the abyss, turning you to face him. “Stop screaming like that.”

“No, leave me alone! I’m not going to die here with you!”

“Y/N, stop!” he called, holding you struggling form tighter. You eased into him when he raised his voice. “That’s not going to help. You’re just going to wear yourself out faster that way.”

“But-”

“If you continue to scream, you will just make yourself tired and thirsty. And the last thing we need is for you to be dehydrated. You will die faster if that’s the case.” You swallowed thickly, tears brimming in the corners of your eyes. “We need to focus on finding food, water and shelter. Then we can figure out how to get home. We need to make sure we are safe first.”

“But, how?” you sniffled, fear finally kicking in. “I can barely fish.”

“Don’t worry about it. I will handle it,” he whispered, pushing your wet hair back. He grimaced when he felt grains of sand interlaced in your strands, but kept a smile on his face. “Just make sure to keep up, alright smallfry?”

You huffed when he turned away, moving to gather some of the supplies that survived. “I’m not a smallfry, you tree!” you called out to him, chasing after the man.

You managed to gather some emergency supplies that had been luckily sealed to keep from getting wet, giving you a blanket, flint for a fire, and a small knife. It wasn’t much, but it was all Thomas needed before he ventured into the jungle. Though, it wasn’t before you had convinced him to let you spell out an SOS in the sand with rather heavy rocks you found along the coast. 

Trekking through the dense jungle, soaked from head to toe in salt water, the humidity piercing the air until your skin stuck more than before, and exhaustion beginning to set into your limbs, was the last thing you had thought would happen when you awoke that morning. Let alone you were with Thomas of all people. 

On one hand, if you were going to be stuck with anyone, Thomas was a prime candidate. He had survived the Maze and the Scorch, he was fit and able to hunt for food if needed, and he'd carry you with ease if you suddenly fell flat on your face after tripping over the many tree roots that seemed to wrap themselves around your ankles, tugging at your despair.  On the other hand, it was Thomas. The traitor, the ex-WICKED member, the know it all.

You frowned at the thought, glancing up to stare at the back of his head, watching the brown tuft of hair flowing in the breeze that skated by. His shirt stuck to his form with sea water and sweat, his arms effortlessly flexing whenever he pushed aside branches, leaves and bushes. Your mind raced back to the discussion on the boat and Thomas’ plea for forgiveness echoing in your ears. Our stomach clenched with the familiar sense of guilt you had before the tsunami-like wave capsized your tiny haven. 

Maybe you had judged him too quickly after all. He was making advances to move on and seek retribution for everything. You were stuck in the past, unwilling to forgive what happened to friends back then.

Maybe it was time to start moving on...

Though, that thought didn’t change that you were stuck alone on this uninhabited island with him. Alone with a fairly attractive man...

Shaking your head quickly to rid yourself of the indecent thoughts, your cheeks flaring up, you hustled forward to join his side. The silence between you was unnerving, the only sound around being your rapid heartbeat that seemed to speed up when you sideways glanced at his face. Unconsciously, you found yourself counting the moles that starred his jawline.

No, stop. What are you doing?

“So, uh,” you cleared your throat speaking up, trying to distract yourself from the plague that kept entering your mind. “What is the plan?”

“We should find water and shelter,” he voiced, cut off by the loud growl of your stomach. Your cheeks lit up, not only due to the embarrassment caused by the protests of hunger your body let out, but also the flips your stomach did at the sound of his deep, but melodic laughter. His dark eyes darted to you, a goofy, lopsided grin inching his cheeks upright. “And food too, I guess. We need fresh water and shelter first and foremost though.”

“And how exactly are we supposed to find that?” you questioned, jumping over a rock and nearly faceplanting. Thomas caught you swiftly, adding more heat to your already warm face. Uttering a low thank you, you continued after him, afraid to speak more. 

“Well, I guess we should try to listen for some water. If we can find a stream or river, we can probably follow it for a bit.”

“You mean like that?”

You spied a small stream beyond a set of trees, Thomas’ face lighting up at the sight. “Exactly! Let’s go!”

You laughed at his excitement, though you missed the soft smile Thomas gave hearing you laugh the way you did. He rushed towards the stream of water with you hot on his heel, following the water flowing down the island. A more comfortable silence fell between you this time, making your way through the jungle together.

“Eureka!” Thomas finally exclaimed, dashing away from you.

“H-hey! Don’t just leave me alone you asshole! Or I will never forgive you!”

“Story of my life,” was his snarky reply, but the joking words made your heart clench while wincing to yourself. He wasn’t wrong, but it stung to hear it so bluntly. “Now, hurry up and get over here!”

A silent sigh left your lips before rushing after him, stumbling to a stop at his side in awe. A small lake was at the end of the stream you were following, the water sparkling with the sun's rays glaring down at it. A small waterfall stood in the distance, white foam coating the base, rippling waves making the water glisten and shimmer. You stared in awe at the sight, gawking at the beauty.

“Yahoo!” Thomas screamed before diving straight into the water, belongings dropped carelessly to the ground, making you gasp in shock. Dots of cold water sprinkled along your face, causing you to shrink back in surprise and yelp loudly. 

“Thomas!” You screamed at him when he resurfaced, kicking his legs to stay afloat. The man pushed back his dark tresses of hair, wiping the water away from his face. He didn’t care that he was fully clothed, fabric clinging to his muscled form. He was content laying back in the water, eyes glued to the blue sky.

“This is nice.”

“You’re an asshole,” you scowled.

His heavenly laugh resounded through the air, your stomach knotting at the noise. Your eyes followed the man as he flipped in the water, diving into the water again before swimming to the other edge near the waterfall. A tired heave escaped as you sat in the nearby grass, sliding off your wet shoes and socks and slipping your aching, waterlogged feet into the lake. The cool water felt refreshing, a sense of calm hitting you almost instantly. You leaned back on your hands, allowing yourself to unwind for the first time since you awoke on the sandy beach. 

“Hey!” Thomas called, making you crack an eye in his direction. He was waving at you from afar, standing at the edge of the waterfall. He pointed towards the falling rapids, calling out, “There is a small cave back here! I think we can use this as shelter!”

“Are you sure?” You hollered back. Thomas nodded, diving into the water and swimming towards you. When he arrived, he stayed in the water, resting on the edge of the lake on his arms. 

“Yeah. It’s small, but I think it'll do. It’s dry enough for us to have a fire but it’ll keep any animals out.”

“If I die tonight because you are wrong and some animal mauls me while I sleep, I am coming back to haunt you.”

Thomas grinned, lifting himself out of the water to grab the gear he dropped. The water made his pants sag, exposing the elastic of the dark boxers he had on. You blushed and turned away, listening to him rummage around in the waterproof bag of emergency goods. 

“I’m going to try and gather some food from the trees. Do you think you can gather some wood for a fire? We can use the bag and tarp that was inside to keep it dry when we head in,” he suggested, tossing both in your direction. 

“I guess. But let me rest for a bit longer please,” you hummed, turning to look at him. Thomas nodded at your words, pocketing a knife set. Turning was a bad decision - Thomas at that moment was stripping off his wet shirt, giving you full display of his toned upper torso, complete with check hair and happy trail dipping into his waistband. His broad shoulders and arms flexed as he stretched, folding the shirt and placing it down with the spare belongings in the bag. His long legs carried him towards some trees with mysterious fruit hiding in the tops, your eyes tracing the back muscles you didn’t know you needed until now.

The man proceeded to climb the tree carefully, trying not to slip too much from his wet pants. Watching him pull himself up, arms bulging and veins prominent along his skin even from a distance, made your body heat up, legs rubbing together slightly. The attractive man left your mind reeling. A shaky breath left your lips, your head turning away quickly.

What the fuck? You thought to yourself, staring at your reflection. Since when did I think of Thomas as attractive?

The soft thunk of fruits being cut down from the tree made your ears ring, eyes darting to stare at the man in the tree before returning to the water. You saw how red your face was.

I thought I hated him. I thought I despised him. But ever since he said he’s been trying to apologize for what happened, I can’t help but think… You groaned, ruffling your knotted hair. Have I just always found him attractive but chose to ignore it because I was irrationally angry at him?

“Aw fuck,” you heard Thomas groan when he fell on his ass while descend the tree. The man stood from the ground, rubbing his sore buttox before moving to the next tree, repeating his attempts to gather food. You giggled to yourself, tucking some loose hair away.

“Maybe I have been too harsh on him,” you sighed to yourself, feeling your heartbeat picking up. “Maybe it’s time to move on and forgive him.That fucking attractive asshole.”

“Hey, don’t get too comfortable! Help a brotha out!” he joking called before jumping onto another tree ungracefully, shimmying up the trunk slowly.

“I know, asshole!” 

Hesitantly, you pulled yourself from the ground, grumbling lowly at yourself as you dragged the supplies to the small cave before heading off to find sticks. The entire time you gathered the broken twigs and branches that littered across the ground, your eyes kept lingering on the broad, muscular form in the distance. Setting your eyes on his form made your heart race, face heating up from something other than the setting sun in the distance. You ached, but not from the strenuous task of obtaining firewood for warmth that night. As you crouched for wood, your legs rubbed together to relieve the throbbing sensation that racked your lower body. Your mind was plagued with him - how you never noticed his beautiful or funny personality through your initial judgment. Deep down, you knew he was hot… but it didn’t strike until now just how much you really liked him.

And being stuck with him, seeing how much he cared, only deepened the feeling. Rapidly, at that. You were smitten in a matter of hours, putting aside your hatred to see the real side of the man.

When you walked into the cave, it was silent. Thomas said nothing, busy setting up the blanket so you had a somewhat comfortable place to rest until help, hopefully, arrived. You pouted, a sudden overwhelming sense of doubt hitting you. Though he never showed it, insecurity struck, suggesting to you that he was actually uncomfortable with the situation - that he actually was upset that you had resented him for so long. Despite his attempted apology in the smash boat, he really was unhappy that you wouldn’t accept him.

And here you were, pining over the man suddenly as a new light was making his presence glow in the darkness, giving you some hope, security and a very flushed face at the simplest thoughts. How the tables turned in your mind.

The sun was nearly gone, giving the sky a faint, blue glow, the remnants of pinks and oranges fading into black. Thomas quietly started a fire, the crackling embers flaring up after a few harsh breaths from the man to fan the flames. Both of you settled onto the blanket, nibbling on the fruits he had gathered. A decent gap was between you, your butt at the edge of the blanket just like his. 

Listening to the crackle of the fire made your mind race with uneasy thoughts. Occasionally, as you bit into the mysterious, but sweet food, you would glance at the man beside you, finding his eyes glued to the fire before you. Eyes traced his side profile, heating up as you admired his sharp jawline speckled in freckles and moles, bits of scruff forming on his chin. 

He hadn’t shaved recently.

Your stomach fluttered, knotting tightly with delight and discomfort. He was handsome, something you would have never admitted before today, but the cold shoulder was killing you. Your mouth was dry, tongue darting out in an attempt to relieve the crackling feeling with no result. Your heart pounded against your chest before turning away, tugging your lip between your teeth to nibble at unconsciously. 

Now that you were ready to forgive him, this new feeling was taking over. You really liked him, and you wanted to get to know him more. You were tired of judging him for what happened. You had the wrong perception of him. But, you had to make things right. 

“Thomas,” you croaked. The man turned his head; you could feel his chocolate colored eyes on the side of your head, trying to pierce you. The words didn’t want to come out when you opened your mouth, unsure what you wanted to say or ask. You finally managed after a handful of attempts to utter one line: “Do you hate me?”

“What?” he asked, more to himself than to you. When you glanced at him, he was shocked, gawking in your direction. The leg he had tucked into him as he ate was extended, body turned to face you better. 

“I just,” you started, twiddling your fingers together. “I’ve been so hard on you since we got to the safe haven. I hated you because of what happened with the Right Arm. But I never gave you a chance to make amends for that. I know you didn’t deserve the treatment I gave you, but I did it anyway, believing that you were this cocky know-it-all for being the savior that took down WICKED. And, I’m sorry for that. 

“I shouldn't have judged you so prematurely. I shouldn’t have shunned you or pushed you away when all you wanted was to be friends, to make up for what happened because I get it; you feel guilty for what happened. You blame yourself when you shouldn’t. It wasn’t even your fault when you think about it. And now… we’re stuck here and I just… I keep feeling like because of how poorly I’ve treated you that you hate me now. I’ve done you wrong and you have no reason to treat me kindly. Sure, survival is one thing but… I’m sure you hate me.”

“I could never,” he voiced without a thought, startling you. 

Staring up at him, you whispered, “What?”

“I could never hate you,” he hummed, returning to hugging a knee to his chest. “Quite the opposite really.”

“I’m not following.”

Thomas chuckled, continuing, “You were the one I wanted to apologize to the most because of how much I liked you. I’ve…” he paused, taking a deep breath. “I’ve had a massive crush on you for the longest time. You’re the smartest, strongest and most beautiful woman in the safe haven to me. I couldn’t but to develop a small… well, a massive crush on you. And I wanted to ask you to give me a chance, but you would always walk away when I got the courage to talk to you. I knew I had hurt you but I wanted to try. So, yeah. I could never hate you.”

It was your turn to gawk at him. Your cheeks burned, staring at the handsome man in shock. Your mouth opened and closed, unable to say anything for the longest time. And when you finally managed to say anything, you only could say, “I’m going to take a bath!”

Thomas laughed when he watched you rush out, jumping into the shallow water just outside the cave fully clothed. Collapsing onto a rock, water coming up to your waist, you huffed, burrowing your face in your palms. 

“God, I’m stupid. He fucking likes me too. He has a crush on me. And here I’m starting to crush on him. What did I fucking run?!”

Sighing, you peeled the wet shirt over your head, struggling to strip yourself of your pants. Since you were already in the water, you figured you should at least wash up the best you could, choosing to scrub your tattered clothes a bit to rid them of dirt and grime. The wet clothes, after you were done, we placed aside, allowing you to sink further into the water. A content breath left your lips, looking up at the stars that made the sky glow. 

“So, you like me too?”

You jumped, turning around with arms crossed over your chest to hide your almost bare chest. The cocky male sat at the base of the cave, still shirtless from his earlier excursion. 

“Can you not?!” you screamed, splashing water in his direction.

“Sorry, sorry,” he teased. “I initially came to check on you after you ran off, and you’ve been out here for a bit. Wanted to make sure something didn’t eat you.”

“I appreciate the concern, but can you not stare at my chest?” you grumbled, noticing his stare at the water, right where your hands were. “And what gave you the impression that I like you too?”

“You know I could hear you, right?” You blushed, sinking further into the water. “Listen, I’m glad you are starting to like me too. But I will leave you be. I will let you tell me when you’re ready. I’m honestly just... “ He stopped for a second. “I’m just glad you don’t hate me anymore.”

“I don’t think I ever really hated you,” you admitted to him. “I was just blind to how much I really did like you. I never took the time to notice how handsome, smart and funny you are. I lied to myself that I didn’t like you when I’m pretty sure I liked you a hell of a lot.”

“You know, being stranded on this island sucks,” he hummed playfully. “But, I’m glad I’m here with you. It really is something special.”

“Thomas.”

“I will leave you be to clean up. I shouldn’t bother you. But please give me a holler if you need me or something happens.”

He stood to leave, turning his back to retreat into your small dominion for the night. He didn’t hear the water splash as you rushed to the edge of the water, not caring to shield yourself as you called out to him again.

“Thomas!”

Slowly, he turned back to you, a red hot blush clearly appearing on his skin despite the darkness. “Yes?”

You were silent for a second before speaking up, “do you want to take a bath with me? You know, clean up and maybe wash your clothes?”

He chuckled, contemplating for a moment before letting his feelings cave over his rational thoughts. He turned around briskly, rushing to join you in the water. His jump into the shallow water, albeit not a big one, was enough to make the water splash against you, Thomas earning a squeal of surprise. He grinned, falling back into the water so he could float among the small waves so he could pull his pants off. 

You blushed, moving to sink into further water, deep enough to hide yourself but to not have to tread water. You avoid his eyes, keeping your eyes on the rippling waves, listening to the patter of the waterfall behind you. 

It wasn’t until you heard the wet slap of his pants on rock and felt his warm presence against your back at you became hyper aware of him standing right behind you. You could feel his hot breath fan against your neck as he pushed your wet locks aside, draping them over one shoulder. 

“Is this fine?” he asked quietly. “I don’t want to go fast. I don’t want to scare you away, but I can’t keep myself away. I should have just walked away, but I can’t when you’re so close. You said you like me too and I’ve wanted this for so long. So please, if you don’t want this, tell me now.”

“Tommy,” you breathed. The name made his breath hitch - something you caught instantly. His body stiffened against yours, his breathing picking up. Your heart was beating just as fast as his was, though you couldn’t pick up on the rapid pounding in his chest. 

“Please. If I’ve gone too far, tell me. Because if you don’t stop me, I don’t know what I will do. I’m a hormonal guy, Y/N. And I’m stranded on an island alone with the most beautiful girl int eh world. The girl I’ve admired for too long. I don’t want to hurt-”

You turned quickly, cupping his cheeks in your hands and pulling him into a rough, sloppy kiss to silence him. The man’s muffled grunts were lost to your lips, his body instantly reacting to yours. He pushed closer to you, his erection obvious against your leg. His hands wrapped around your waist, hugging you to his muscled chest, wet pecs flexing anxiously with the jump in his heartbeat. Your fingers curled against his cheeks before pulling away, grinning cheekily.

“You talk to much. Maybe I should have just continued hating you.”

“Nope. This is better.”

His lips crashed back onto yours after his hasty response, tilting his head to give him as much room as possible to engulf your lips with his. Your hands eagerly slid up to his wet chocolate tresses, tangling in them to scrape at his scalp. His hands ran along your waist until he found your ass, lifting you up against him so your legs could wrap around his midsection. Things escalated quickly, heat building with the sensual kiss.

And you weren’t arguing right now.

He backed you into the shallowest part of the water, placing you down to focus on the heated kiss. His tongue darted along your plump lips until they parted, automatically shoving past them to enter your wet cavern. Tongues battled for dominance, something you easily lost. His tongue ran along your mouth, tracing every inch of it before pulling away for air, a short string of saliva still connecting your lips. 

Your chests rose and fell quickly for air before instantly delving in for more open mouth kisses. Lips dragged against each other, wet smacks mixing with the rushing water beside you. Noses bumped whenever your heads turned to get a better position, teeth clashing with every heated crash. His lips dragged along yours, sucking them teasingly before devouring them again and again.

Your hands slid down from his hair, landing on his broad shoulder first before running down his chest. Your fingers skimming along his skin made him shiver, pecs jumping under your sultry touch. His arms flexed, more veins emerging from his skin as he got excited. When your thumbs brushed against his nipples, he shuddered, breaking the kiss to let out a gasping moan.

“Don’t do that,” he rasped, a glint in the glare he sent you.

“Oh. Are your nipples sensitive, Tommy?” you cooed, smirking up at the man. A deeper groan left his lips, his face burrowing in your neck. Tiny nips and kisses were left on your skin, Thomas earning himself a moan.

“I hate that you started using that name so quickly,” he uttered deeply. “It’s making it really hard to control myself.”

“Who said you needed to control yourself?” you spoke without warning. Thomas groaned once more, hands fussing with the bra strap against your back. 

The article was nearly ripped from your skin and tossed aside, lost to the lake as it drifted away in the water. His eyes were dark, near animalistic, like he was staring at his prey right before he pounced. You weren’t telling him no; you were encouraging the hungry tiger inside. He intended to take advantage of that, even if his mind told him not to. His body spoke louder. His hunger made him salivate, taking in the sight of your bare torso before lunging. 

His head dipped down, latching onto your breast instantly. Your head fell back, unleashing a loud moan at the pleasure. His mouth wrapped around your hard bud, tongue flicking at it happily. His large, veiny hand grasped the other one, fondling it fiercely, between his long fingers. Even if you told yourself you didn’t want this, your body screamed that you did. Even if you told yourself you didn’t want to be stuck with Thomas, you were glad it was him. Even if you told yourself you didn’t like him, you knew for a fact you did.

What he was doing felt phenomenal, and you wouldn’t change that for the world right then and there.

Thomas pulled away with a pop, sucking red marks along the skin of your mounds before resuming his licking barrage on the nipple, grunting against it happily. More moans left your lips, fingers tangling in his hair to keep yourself together, giving you something to tug at while you were pleasured. Your legs rubbed together, feeling heat pooling between them the more he attacked your chest, suckling at your nipple repeatedly. When he finally switched breasts, you lost control, nearly shouting his name into the night sky.

“Oh, fuck, Thomas!” you mewled, pressing his face further into your chest. “That feels so good.”

“Shit,” he choked, prying himself from your grasp to move up to your level. His body sliding against yours allowed you to feel the obvious bulge in his boxers, your core twitching as a result. “If you keep that up, I’m going to have to fuck you senseless. You have no idea how hot that is and how fucking horny I am right now.”

“Then do it,” you let out. “Fucking fuck me already.”

“God damn.”

He didn’t ask twice. He was stripping you of your only remaining garment, tossing them with his own onto the rocks behind you. Your stare turned south to catch a glimpse of his shaft, gawking at the size. “Holy shit,” you gasped. “Is that what I was missing by hating your guts?”

His was long and hard, his hand wrapped around the girthy base to stroke it casually. The tip was swollen and red, beads of precum coming out the tip when he tugged at himself. He was much larger than any other guy you had seen - the few one night stands you managed to have were nothing compared to this. You were silently thanking the world for what had happened, giving you a chance to make things right with Thomas and to get fucked senseless by a god. You were thankful for the realization of your feelings because right now, your pussy was pleading to be filled.

“Should have talked to me sooner. We could have been fucking for a while now,” he teased. “Of course, I wanted you for more than a good lay, but I’m sure I can please you when you need it.”

“Oh? Low blow, cowboy. Sure you can stick to those guns?”

“Why don’t we find out?”

The tip ran along your folds a few times before he pushed in quickly, bottoming out in seconds. A loud, prolonged moan left your mouth, the noise drawn out and making your throat vibrate. Thomas grunted at the feeling of your tight cunt around him, your walls grasping at his hard cock eagerly. His eyes closed, trying to not cum instantly. You were wet and warm, clinging to him intermittently, hugging him tightly. The subtlest shift made you clench, another loud noise filling the air.

Before he started to move, he lifted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. He gave you a chaste kiss before groaning, shifting you against him. “If it gets to be too much, stop me.”

“Alright.”

It started slow, your body bouncing against his. His hands sat on your backside, using your ass as leverage to guide your body against his. His long shaft slid in and out of you slowly, rubbing against your walls and poking at the sensitive spots. Whenever he was nearly freed, you were brought back down onto him, fully sheathing him inside your warmth. 

The speed picked up gradually until you were being slammed onto his thick cock repeatedly, enhancing the pleasure you were feeling. Your moans grew in volume, filling the night air around you. The water splashed against your sides with every diligent thrust into your tight core, aiding Thomas’ thick cock in sliding in and out of you. Nails clawed at his skin, diggin crescent-shaped moons into his shoulders while being bounced, keeping you steady and upright. 

Thomas groaned loudly, the sound of your seductive moans in his ears making him harder than he thought was possible. His chocolate pupils, darkened by lust, traveled south, traveling the features of your face the entire time. Your lips were rosy from the intense kisses you shared, your bright orbs were half-lidded with ecstasy, your cheeks were flushed under the moon that was rearing it face over the trees slowly. When his eyes befell your chest, watching your breasts bounce up and down against his moist chest, the former runner was floored. He had never seen something so wonderful - so attractive. His stomach tightened, hips thrusting faster into you, unleashing a more animalistic nature that had you screaming. 

“Oh, god!” you let out, throwing your head back. Your entire body shook, your knotting stomach flipping a million times a second. Thomas grunted out at your echoed speech, leaning forward to latch onto your breast, after a bit of trouble to keep a steady pace and attack the mound as it jostled aimlessly. One hand found its way to his wet locks, tugging at them harshly. The suckling to your peaked buds made your eyes flash white, the shaking increasing significantly as your high hit. “Oh fuck, Thomas!”

With your walls clenching, your warm cunt hugging him tightly and his cock growing slick with your arousal, his head began to spin. Maybe it was the lack of air; he wasn’t breathing while he bucked into you, nibbling at your breast with all of his might. His thrusts grew sloppy, fighting to control himself while you had your orgasm. When he finally felt your body going limp, he moved forward, resting you on a shallow rock and pulling himself free. 

You blinked your eyes opened, glancing at the dark haired man that no longer occupied your used core. Your pussy throbbed, trying to clench around nothing but air, screaming at its sudden emptiness. Thomas’ eyes were glued on you - all of you - taking in your fucked-out expression, round breasts that were littered with red love marks, and your chest heaving with uneven breaths. His large hand, covered in veins, wrapped around his cock, stroking himself quickly and harshly, pulling the skin of his length over the tip slightly. The man hunched forward slightly, refusing to give in until he was grunting loudly, utter a few curses before releasing himself onto your form.

Thick ropes of his hot seed shot from the tip, dotting up your stomach to your chest, covering your breasts in his white, steamy essence. Bits of water washed the droplets away when it splashed across your body, but he licked his lips at the sight of you covered in his cum, looking hot with the white strings as your form. His unruly noises got louder when you ran your fingers along the few drops that remained, particularly on your breasts, rubbing the thick substance around your taut buds slowly.

“Shit,” he huffed, kneeling on the rock beside you. His lips connected to yours in a searing kiss, your lips instantly parting to allow his tongue to invade your cheeks. Your tongues tangled together messily, noisy open-mouth kisses smacking against each other in haste. Thomas’ hand slithered between your legs, shamelessly shoving two fingers into your sensitive core. The moan that he ripped from your was lost to his throat. His fingers shoved into your pussy quickly, making you writhe under him. 

The kiss broke, allowing your shaking words to escape. “Don’t go so rough.”

“Are you a bit sensitive after you took me?” he asked cheekily, making you laugh slightly.

“I guess you could say that. I think I’m a little overstimulated. I haven’t had sex in a while.”

Thomas blinked, hand stilling. “You’re had sex before?”

Your eyes met, confusion in your eyes. “I mean, of course. I tried dating a guy once after we came to the safe haven, but he was only good for a single lay to relieve some stress from everything,” you revealed. With a giggle, you continued, “Don’t tell me you haven’t had some action since we got here.”

“Oh. I-I mean.. Well, yeah. Who hasn’t?” You didn’t seem convinced, earning a deep sigh from Thomas. His fingers removed themselves from your core, the man sitting on the rock beside you. You sat up yourself, hugging your chest slightly. “I guess if you count the one night stand I had after getting really drunk on Gally’s drink.”

“No way. With who?”

Thomas chuckled at your enthusiasm. “I can’t really remember. She was gone before I woke up in the chicken coop. I think her name was Mandy because after that night, she never talked to me again.”

Your laughter grew louder, leaning on the frowning male. “That’s fucking great.”

“Laugh it up, bitch.”

“I will,” you teased. “But, how come you never tried for more?”

“I mean,” he sighed, looking down at you. “I had my eyes on someone I really liked. But, she didn’t like me back. Wouldn’t talk to me, wouldn’t look at me. She hated my guts.”

“Well,” you sighed, looking up at him with a joking smile, “she’s lost out. You should forget about her.”

Thomas laughed, leaning down to kiss you softly. His hand, wet and dripping with water, moved up to caress your cheek as his lips dragged against yours slowly. “I think I already am because I have someone amazing with me now.”

Together you sat under the moonlight in the water for a while, cuddling until you felt your feet wrinkling and your body shiver from the cold that was setting in. Thomas exited the water first, lending a hand to help you out afterwards. Gathering your discarded clothes, you hobbled back into the warmth of the cave. While you laid out the clothes to dry, Thomas added more wood to the dying fire, letting it flare back up before you both snuggled together on the blanket, seeking warmth with each other.

You faced him, staring up at his sharp features, fingers dancing along his muscled arms and speckled cheeks. His biceps flexed under your touch, cheeks curling upwards with a smile at the gentle skim of your touch. His own arm was draped over your waist, drawing imaginary shapes to the small of your back. You had never been so comfortable or content in your life, having spent so long running from Cranks or escaping from WICKED in hopes of finding a safe place to live in peace, praying to harmony in your unpredictable life. You frowned at the thought; you had misses so much because of your judgments. 

“I’m still sorry,” you whispered lowly. Thomas hummed, waiting for you to continue. “I’m sorry for everything, Tommy. For shunning you, judging you, mistreating you. You didn’t deserve it.”

“It’s fine, babe,” he mused, kissing your forehead. “I get it. You don’t need to beat yourself up about it.”

“But-”

“No buts,” he laughed. His eyes met yours, giving you a soft smile before leaning in and kissing you on your lips softly. “We just need to move on from here.”

“I guess so.”

“Just give me a chance to show you that I’m a good guy,” he teased, making you laugh. 

“Yeah, if we ever get off this island,” you said. “But, being stranded with you isn’t nearly as bad as I thought it was going to be.”

“Are you saying that shipwrecking with me here was going to suck?” he gasped.

“Tommy, I didn’t even want to fish with your ass!”

“But I have a fine ass.”

“Yeah, I know,” you teased, daring to roll onto him, straddling his waist with ease. Your lips connected in a fiery kiss, earning a deep grunt from the former runner. “I watched you climb a tree today. You have a nice behind.”

“So do you,” he rasped lowly, cupping your backside tightly in his palms. The action made you mewl, grinding your hips against his sharply. Your lips connected once more, letting your tongues tease each other. Thomas’ cock was growing hard under you, sliding between your moist pussy lips. The man murmured against your lips after breaking your kiss, “I’m getting horny again.”

“I can’t say I disagree,” you uttered, grinding on him harder, two moans filling your small hideaway. His cock was twitching against your wet core, the hands that remained on your ass helping you rock against him faster. “Fuck, I just want you inside me again.”

“If we do, I can’t promise I will last long… or pull out in time to not cum inside you.”

“That’s fine,” you let out. 

Thomas grinned seductively, teeth twinkling mischievously. “You know, if that happens, there will be a chance you could get pregnant.”

“I know, but I trust you.”

The words made his heart jump slightly. “So, are you saying that you want me to fill you with my cum? You want me to fuck you silly and maybe put a baby inside you?”

“I mean, I will take the fucking me silly, but if a baby comes with it, you’re helping to raise it.”

“Deal,” he gasped.

Within much thought, he was aligning with your core, sliding into you. You moaned at the feeling of him filling you up once more, your pussy full with his giant cock. The tip of his cock brushed against your g-spot, as well as new spots he hadn’t hit before. The new position came with a new angle, and the new angle let him reach deeper inside you. He stayed still for a moment before guiding you along his length, rocking you back and forth along his shaft.

You laid against his as you moved along his cock, breasts pressed against his chest. Your lips danced together occasionally, dragging against each other slowly before parting to let our low moans. The subtle smack from the kisses made your heart race and core clench, squeezing around him tightly. They were such loving kisses, but they made your walls tight and wet.

Pushing up on his chest, separating from the multitude of kisses you shared, you picked up speed, riding him quickly. His cock slid in and out of you quickly, your body rising up and slamming back onto him before he could escape your grasp. Your speed gradually built until you were slapping your hips together loudly, sweaty skin sticking together and pulling apart with slick noises. 

Thomas licked his lips, eying your bouncing breasts for a bit before turning to watch his cock slip in and out of you. He was familiar with your breasts moving when he was inside you, but he thoroughly enjoyed the way his cock would emerge covered in your sweet arousal, making his length glisten in the firelight, before it disappeared back inside your tight cunt, throbbing with the need to explode. He wanted to fill you up, spilling every last ounce he had into your hole. He wanted to watch the white seed drip from your lips, oozing out because you were so full of him.

The desire to do so was overwhelming, so much that the man lifted you off of him with a short whine, and flipped you over onto your hands and knees. He found himself ramming back into you from behind, hearing a short scream rip from your throat when he wasted no time in slamming himself into you. He bucked wildly, his speed nearly godly, thrusting himself deep into you. His new speed and position made you scream his name loudly, clawing at the bunched up blankets under you. Your body shifted with every thrust, only kept steady from a firm hand he kept on your hip. The other hand planted firmly to your backside, a reddening handprint pressed into your skin. 

“You feel so good, baby,” he growled, pushing harder. His hips snapped into your ass, balls slapping against your folds. The sounds of slapping skin mixed with the uncontrollable noises that left your mouth in panted breaths, making Thomas grin widely. “You like this, Y/N? You like when I fill you up with my giant fucking cock?”

“Tommy-”

“You love when I fuck you into the ground like this? You just can’t get enough, can you?”

“No,” you managed to utter. “I need more.”

“What was that?” he asked, the hand that had been slapping at your ass occasionally sliding up your back to your neck. He gave it a firm squeeze, hearing a choked breath leave. He didn’t want to hurt you, but you made no effort to remove it, so he figured you were fine. Maybe, you were even enjoying the restriction. “Speak up, baby. I can’t hear you.”

“Fuck, Thomas. Fill me up already! Please!”

“God, you just love being filled up. Such a dirty girl, wanting to be filled up with my cum. You want all of my cum inside you? You want me to fill you up with all of my cum?”

“Yes!” You hollered weakly. Dots were blinking in your vision, your body tightening with your inevitable release. “Please fill me up Tommy. I want to cum with you. I love the feeling of your cock so much, but i want to feel you inside me.”

“Fuck, thats hot,” he muttered, shoving into you faster than before. He pushed up onto his feet, releasing your neck so he could steady you against him. His entire body was used to push into you, every part of his body leveraged to excite you over the top. He wanted to make your next orgasm one to remember. He wanted to have you releasing on his cock more than you thought was possible. He wanted to explode every drop into you. “Cum with me, Y/N. Please baby, cum all over my fucking cock.”

You moaned in response, body nearly going limp from your orgasm. Your stomach hurt from trying to hold back, so you didn’t keep it in. The knot was burned away, and you were spilling everything you had onto his length, making it slick enough to still slide in and out of you as he thrust sloppily. Your walls were clinging to him desperately, convulsing with every droplet you released that stuck to his length.

Your tight, wet cunt made Thomas’ head spin like before, his own high nearly. Your core was hugging him close, squeezing him lifeless. The warmth was making him throb and twitch, finally exploding his load into you with one loud grunting groan. His thick seed shot from the tip, painting along your inner walls like white paint. The former runner let out a prolonged mewl of approval, thrusts slowing, letting your walls milk him of every last bit he had built up. 

Your bodies finally collapsed from exhaustion, Thomas remaining inside you until he had softened to a tiny chub. His fascination led him to watch his arousal slip from your pussy lips, the man licking his lips slowly. 

“That’s something to remember…” he whispered to himself before moving to kiss your shoulder blades. “We should get some rest. Then tomorrow, we can try to find a way off this island and back home.”

He didn’t receive a response.

“Y/N?”

He turned you over, finding you sound asleep, chest rising and falling steadily. You had a gentle smile ebbed onto your lips, resting peacefully. The man chuckled, pushing back some of the hair that stuck to your sweaty forward, placing a sweet, loving kiss to your temple. Laying beside you, he curled you into his chest, struggling to pull the blanket over you to keep you warm in case the fire died out while you slept. His head rested on his sore arm, but he didn’t mind the pain; his comfort came from you beside him, in his arms - finally.

“Sleep well. And thank you for giving me a chance. I didn’t think getting stranded would be such a good thing...”

~

His eyes fluttered open, finding a small stream of sunlight filling the cave. It took a moment to process his surroundings. The fire had died, he was in a cave, and you were nuzzled into his side, bare naked and sound asleep. Thomas thought he was dreaming before recalling the wave and the boat crash, finding you stranded on an unknown island without a way home. He also remember the heated evening of confessions, apologies and sex that blew his mind.

Not in any rush to move, he pulled you into him, nestling his face in the rats nest atop your head. He could feel your lips curling up against his skin at this, the man chuckling. “Good morning,” he let out, voice raspy and deep with sleep.

“Good morning,” you muttered lowly. “Can we not move for a while? I hurt.”

“I’d figure,” he laughed. “I fucked you a lot last night.”

“And honestly?” you hummed. “I regret nothing.”

“That’s relieving actually. I’m glad I won’t have to be punched later to forcing you to have sex with me.”

“Never,” you laughed, struggling to look up at him. Thomas glanced down at your sleepy face, placing a soft peck to your lips. 

“So, you are going to give me a chance later right? Like, when we can finally get home?”

“I thought I made that clear when I apologized for how I’ve been treating you,” you scowled playfully, punching his chest weakly. “And you kind of fucked me a lot. You’re not leaving me dry for a while.”

“I can handle that,” he smirked, pulling you into a deeper kiss.

The steamy kiss would ahve led to a heated round of unruly morning sex if your ears hadn’t perked at the sounds outside the cave. You pulled away from a disappointed Thomas, sitting up abruptly. 

“Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” he asked.

Listening carefully, you heard the faint call.

“-Mas!”

“-/N!”

“Someone is calling our names?” you asked, glancing at the man who shrugged. 

“Did someone manage to find us?” he thought aloud.

“Thomas!”

“Y/N!”

“Oh my god,” Thomas gasped, jumping to his feet and rushing to the cave entrance. “That’s Minho!”

“What?!” You exclaimed back, running after the man.

In your excitement, you both ran from the cave in search of the voices calling your names. Thomas’ hand clasped around yours to keep from getting separated, keeping you from falling over any trees or rocks. The voices grew louder as you rushed through the sea of green trees, pushing through bushes and in the mud. 

In the distance, you locked eyes with the boy calling your name - Thomas friend from the maze and the former leader of the runners. Minho’s eyes grew when he saw you both run from the bushed, calling his name. You halted in the middle of a small clearing, panting for breath.

“Thomas, Y/N,” Minho uttered softly before his eyebrows scrunched up. “Why are you guys naked?”

“Eh?” you let out, looking down at yourself. Realizing what had happened, you shrieked loudly, hugging yourself. Thomas turned to hug you, glaring back at Minho.

“Look away!”

“Sorry, sorry!” Minho called, turning around. “I don’t want to stare at your bare ass anyway!”

“Fuck you,” Thomas growled. “How did you find us anyway?”

“We’ve been searching all night. When you didn’t come back, we pulled out the small motorboat to search for you. Someone mentioned the waves had picked up, so we thought something might have happened. We found the boat wrecked on the island-”

“Wait,” you called, stopping him. “There was a motorboat?”

“Yeah,” Minho said. “It’s always in the boat we used to get here. It’s not used very often to conserve fuel and all, but it’s pretty decently sized and everything.”

“We had a motorboat, and you set us out to go fishing on a wooden rowboat?!”

Minho blinked “Ummmm…”

“I’m going to kill you, Minho!”

The former runner took off with you hot on his tail, uncaring that you were still barren to the world. Thomas sighed as he watched you chase the man around the clearing, weaving through trees before tackling the man to the ground, scarring him as you beat him up. 

“I guess I should be thankful,” Thomas told himself. “Otherwise, we wouldn’t have ended up stranded here and had the night we did.”

“Thomas, help! Get her off me!”

“Can’t help, sorry,” Thomas called, turning away. “I need to go get our stuff from the cave. Plus, she hates me, remember?”

“Bullshit!”

“Take it easy on him, babe. He’s our way home!” Thomas teased, walking away.

“He dies tonight! I’m roasting Minho alive!”

“Good talk!”

“Thomas, don’t leave me with this monster! Something obviously happened and you can’t leave me like this!” Minho called, but Thomas was gone. “THOMAS!”

I’m not gonna tag anyone right now because my tag list is far too outdated and needs to be refreshed. I will figure that out... later.

[nothing-at-the-moment]

Rewrite The Stars V

Pairings: James Potter X Hufflepuff!reader

Bold: James’s thoughts

The biggest mystery of Hogwarts is not how the staircases move. Neither is the biggest mystery that why wizards use quills and parchment when they can use simple pen and paper and owls instead of telephones. Neither is the complete illogical concept of interbreeding between a wizard and giant resulting in the conception of a half giant.

The biggest mystery of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is; why is there a random giant squid in the middle of the Black Lake?

Of course there were some theories.

Dumbledore is an animagus who turns into the giant squid whenever he doesn’t want to deal with being the headmaster. Or maybe Godric Gryffindor himself is an animagus and watched over the kids in the form of a squid. Or maybe the Black Lake was a portal to a muggle ocean from where it comes.

The theories were endless. Not even Dumbledore knew.  

Only three people in the whole world did.

Newt Scamander. Rubeus Hagrid. And Y/N L/N.

In the year 1946, Newt Scamander, who had once been expelled from Hogwarts had returned to its grounds with a mission. A mission he had vowed his life to. Protection of magical creatures.

Now he had sneaked into the Hogwarts grounds with a very small-almost as small as a human baby-baby squid in his arms. He had to hurry because these magical squids couldn’t survive out of water for long, not more than two hours.

He knew he had somebody he could trust to take care of his baby squid. Rubeus Hagrid. Hagrid, a mere teenager at that time, had idolized Newt Scamander and they had quickly bonded over their mutual affection and care for all sorts of magical creatures. And he knew he had Hagrid to keep this little secret.

So Hagrid sneaked Newt and the little bundle he was carrying under a cloak into Hogwarts and he knew the best place for this little beast.

The Black Lake.

Newt and Hagrid had sat around the lake shore for a little over an hour as they watched the baby squid slash around and Newt gave all the necessary information that Hagrid would need to take care of her.

“What’s er name, eh?” Hagrid had asked.

“Calypso.” Newt gave a small smile to Hagrid and a longing look to Calypso and sneaked out of Hogwarts with his little baby Squid, now in the care of Hagrid.

Y/N L/N, being a close relative of the Scamanders was not unfamiliar with magical creatures of all sorts. Her uncle, Newt, would take her on numerous adventures around his suitcase. Y/N couldn’t help but grow attached as her curiosity and love for magical creatures grew.

Seeing her passion, Newt had decided to trust her with the secret of Calypso, hidden in the depths of The Black Lake at Hogwarts.

Y/N couldn’t be more ecstatic.

So from her very first night at Hogwarts as an eleven year old, she had become best friends with the now Giant squid residing in the lake.

She would visit her every other with treats for her that Newt had himself cooked up. And tonight was no different.

With being an animagus came consequences. Consequences in the form of impulses and instincts that James had been familiar with for ages.one of the said instincts was the peculiar urge to take a stroll and graze.

So that’s what James Potter was doing in the middle of the night today. Grazing around the edges of the Forbidden Forest.

Sirius would usually accompany him as Padfoot but he was busy tonight with comforting a heart broken Remus. James would’ve stayed too, he wanted to. But Sirius had kicked him out saying that because he sucks with dealing with emotions, he would rather not have James make matters worse

It all made sense now, why Y/N was crying in the courtyard today and why she freaked out when he asked to get Remus. He would be too if that had happened to him.

But what made him really lonely tonight was the lack of thoughts his soulmate had directed to him today. Soulmates could control their thoughts and send only the ones they want to send to their soulmate. Mostly it was involuntary. But if a person tries very hard, they could stop their thoughts from being reflected to their soulmate.

So, James was worried. A lot.

What could be so personal to his soulmate that she couldn’t even have him know it?

He was worried, but also a little hurt, knowing that his soulmate didn’t trust him enough with it even though he has never hid anything from her.

While James was thinking about it, he saw a figure sitting with her legs in the lake water playing with a…something.

He couldn’t make out what he was playing it but he was curious and lonely and way too confident for his own good. So he, of course went closer.

Thinking that he was in his animagus form, no one would recognize him, and he went and sat next to the figure that turned out to be Y/N…playing with a giant tentacle.

The stag that came and sat beside her stared at her with big Bambi eyes (pun intended) and then shifted his eyes to Calypso’s tentacle.

Y/N gave a gentle smile to the stag and James visibly relaxed when he saw that the tentacle of the Giant Squid was not harming anybody.

Why was Y/N playing with The Giant Squid? Is that allowed?

“Hello. I’m Y/N. And who might you be? I didn’t know the forest had stags. Do you have a name?” James just stared at her and at the hand curled around the tentacle.

“I have a little something you might like.” She rummaged inside the satchel around her shoulder and pulled out a few berries and laid them down in front of the deer.

James hungrily gobbled down the berries.

Y/N chuckled and James would’ve smiled at the sound of her laugh if he was in his human form right now.

“How about I name you Rudolf, eh? No? Too long. Not original even. How about Rudy?” James was too busy marveling at the gentleness with which she was dealing with him and the gentleness of her hand that was still caressing the tentacle.

“Rudy, this is Calypso. She’s a giant squid. Calypso, this is Rudy.” The tentacle moved from Y/N arms and tapped Rudy’s on the head between his prongs twice.

James, for a lack of a better word, was taken aback.

The Giant Squid was girl?! Rudy?!

Needless to say, James was mostly confused.

“I come here every other night when I need to think. Also to feed Calli with treats my uncle makes for her. She’s great company. You’re welcome to join.”

James was positively curious. He has never had any encounters with the Giant Squid except that one time Peter felt something brush against his back when they all were swimming gin the lake. To know that Y/N, had almost daily encounters with her, and fed her too, baffled him.

Guess The Giant Squid was not Dumbledore after all.

“I was just about to tell Calypso what a crappy day I had. It was all good till last night. I was having a blast with my soulmate. He was tutoring me and helping me with my homework till late. Now I thought it was Remus who I was talking to last night but when I went for breakfast and I thanked Remus for his help, he told me that he doesn’t take the subject with which my soulmate helped last night.”

James was listening very intently.  Many soulmates help each other with homework till late, right?

“I couldn’t bear to be with Remus after finding out. I have always wanted him to be my soulmate and I was so happy when I thought he was but then…this happened. Merlin, fate’s such a bitch. But that’s not even the worst thing that happened today. Because I found out who my actual fucking soulmate is. And he couldn’t have been worse.”

James’s curiosity was bubbling in his chest. He had a weird feeling in his stomach as he waited for her to reveal her soulmate’s name.

“I was crying in the courtyard after Remus. It was raining. Apparently James Potter thought I was dead so he came to help me and after I sat up, I burst on him. Merlin, that was so embarrassing. He too was so awkward through all of it. I hate him so much.”

James let out a guttural sound from the back of his throat in protest. He was not used to people hating him. Y/N just thought he was hungry and gave him a few more berries. James didn’t mind.

Calypso’s tentacle now rested on her shoulders as if she was trying to comfort her. Y/N felt like Calypso knew where this was going.

“To cheer me up, he was telling me some random octopus fact. The thing was that, I already knew that octopus eat themselves when they get stressed. The idiot forgot that not all octopuses do it. It’s a disease, an infection of sorts that attacks the nervous system sometimes when octopuses get bored or stressed out because of captivity. He knows that but forgot. Moron.”

James was growing more curious and scared and suspicious at this point. The thing about the octopus was not a commonly known fact and his soulmate had told him that she’s sure no one but her knows that at Hogwarts.

A thought occurred in his head but he quickly brushed it out. It couldn’t be. Could it?

“He told me that his soulmate had told him that fact. I was getting really scared because not too long ago, I had told my soulmate that fact. He was going on about his soulmate. About the things she had told him. And I realized that I had told my soulmate all those things. Lobsters, Basilisks, my unicorn and giant dream that I had a week ago. The fact that I want to be a magizoologist. It didn’t help that this morning my wrist was showing some dude riding the latest broomstick model and throwing Quaffles.  James Potter is the Gryffindor captain and a total Quidditch maniac!”

James was not being able to process everything being told to him. He had had that exact dream today. It was too much for him to take in. Unbelievable.

“James Potter is my soulmate.”

As soon as she said it, it sank into James’s mind. But he still couldn’t move.

“When I realized it, I ran away. I have been blocking my thoughts the entire day. I don’t want him to know. He’s been obsessed with Lily Evans for four years. He’s not anymore, she’s with Xander, but I can’t. I have hated him for three years. He has hated me for three years! This has to be a mistake…”

Only one thought ran through James’s head. Y/N looked down at her wrist as it tingled reflecting the one thought. James looked at her wrist to confirm it.

Holy Shit.

As soon as he saw that on her wrist, he did what his soulmate had done the same morning.

He blocked his thoughts and ran.

[fullmoonremus]

A Moment Apart | Caspian x Reader

Warnings: Nothing

Time/Era: The Voyage of the Dawn Treader

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: After Y/N gets swept to Narnia with her cousins, she meets a certain someone who piques her interest. Goodbyes are hard, but this one seems more like a “see you later.”

Request: Hi ! I just got back home and read your first Caspian one shot, and let me tell you : i LOVE your writing so much!! So im just going to request another caspian os because i love him so much ahah. Can you write something where the reader first meets him during VOTD and she has to go back on Earth then some times after he ends up in our world and meet the reader again? Take care 💕💕

A/N: Thank you so much for such a sweet compliment! If you love Caspian, saddle up because I have 4 more requests for him coming after this one. Thanks for requesting and enjoy! Please give me feedback. I was thinking of doing a part 2 for this, so tell me whatcha think about that idea! :) Also, I was listening to A Moment Apart by ODESZA when writing, so that’s sort of the vibe of this imagine~

Part 2 | masterlist | read on ao3

Being Y/N Scrubb was about as fun as it sounded. Her parents very obviously favored her little brother, Eustace, and didn’t have a care about what she did. Y/N was much older than Eustace anyway, so they weren’t exactly friends either. The only thing that was getting her through the long, boring days was the fact that two of her cousins had come to stay with them. 

Y/N’s cousins, Lucy and Edmund, were closer to Y/N’s age and much more tolerable. Instead of acting as if they were superior due to having an “immense vocabulary,” they were kind and funny. They would actually listen to Y/N and treat her like an equal. Y/N hated being treated as an inferior by an eleven-year-old. 

“How are you even related to that?” Edmund asked one afternoon. He had been the victim of Eustace’s “intellectual insults” a mere five minutes before. 

“I could ask you the same thing.”

~

“Is the water...moving?” Y/N asked, gazing at the painting next to her cousins. Eustace comes in and sits on the bed. 

“What rubbish! That’s what happens when you read-”

“Can you shut your mouth for just five seconds, please?” Y/N turns around and glares at her brother before turning back to the painting. She continues to stare, taking in every detail of the painting. The magnificent blues and greens swirled together to depict a wonderful ocean scene. The boat was just as breathtaking; it had a huge mast adorning a brightly colored sail and what looked like a dragon carved into the bow. It didn’t take long before Edmund and Eustace started fighting. 

There was something about the painting that screams adventure. Whether that be the vivid imagery or the bright colors, Y/N didn’t know, but she wished that she could be on the boat. Maybe then she could get away from Eustace and his constant chatter. 

As if by magic, water started to drip from the corner of the painting. 

“Lu? Do you see that?” Y/N asked as the trickle turned into a constant stream. The water was getting all over the carpet; Y/N couldn’t help but imagine what her mother would say. 

“Edmund! Look!” Lucy screeched, grabbing the attention of her older brother. The painting now had water streaming from every edge of its frame and the water was starting to pool. The bedroom flooded in record time and the four were pushed under. Furniture began to float around them and they had to dodge chairs in order to not get impaled. Y/N had never been the quickest swimmer, resulting in the leg of a chair clipping her arm. 

The need for air overpowered the pain of my arm so she fought to reach the top of the water. When all four of their heads surfaced, they were no longer in the small room, but in the middle of the ocean. 

“What’s happening?!” Y/N screamed at her companions. 

“Swim!!” Was Lucy’s only response. That was when Y/N noticed the huge boat coming straight for them. “Hurry!” Y/N kicked her legs as hard as she could, but the current was strong. 

“Stop!” A hand wrapped around her ankle and pulled her back. “You’re safe now! Stop swimming!’

“Edmund, it’s Caspian!” She recognized that voice to be Lucy’s. “We’re in Narnia!”

Another voice answered her. “You’re in Narnia!”

The voice was deep and strong, laced with a thick accent. It was also slightly scratchy but in the best way. Y/N had the fleeting thought that she wanted to hear it again, and again, and again. 

~

Y/N was covered in a plush towel as soon as she was brought on board. The boat deck was riddled with things and creatures, most of which couldn’t care less about her presence. She scanned the deck for any sign of her cousins; Edmund and Lucy were talking animatedly with a tall gentleman. He was wet, probably one of their rescuers, and his white shirt was clinging to his torso. The stranger’s hair was also sopping wet, pushed to the side and dripping into his eyes. 

“Edmund!” She called out desperately. He looked over and the three walk over. 

“And who might this be?” The handsome stranger asks, looking down at Y/N. He was quite a bit taller than her. Y/N couldn’t bring herself to speak; his hair had fallen to either side of his face and it created a perfect frame around his eyes. His warm, chocolate brown eyes were wrinkled at the corners due to his grin. 

“This is our other cousin, Y/N,” Edmund spoke for Y/N, an amused look on his face. 

The man takes a hold of Y/N’s hand and brings it to his lips. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance, my beautiful Y/N. My name is Caspian.” He kissed her knuckles and released his grip. His eyes followed the line of her arm and landed on her injury. 

“Oh, you’re bleeding,” His eyes burned into Y/N’s skin. 

She squirmed under his gaze. “Oh, uh, yeah. A chair hit me.”

“A chair? Hit you?” He crossed his arms and put his weight on one leg. This made his hip jut out slightly and his coat flair. 

The conversation Y/N and Caspian were having seemed to really amuse Lucy and Edmund. They kept sharing knowing glances at each other. Y/N wished she knew what they were thinking. 

“No matter, come with me. I’ll patch you up. We can’t have you bleeding all over my deck, now can we?” He turns on his heel and begins to walk towards the flight of stairs behind him. Y/N looks to Lucy for help. 

“Follow him,” She mouths, a grin taking up her entire face. Y/N bites the inside of her cheek and follows. 

Caspian led the Y/N into a large bedroom that was lit by a wall of windows. There were various different paintings on the walls, a full-sized wardrobe, a desk, and a door leading to a balcony. Y/N came to the conclusion that this was Caspian’s living quarters. Caspian pulled the wooden chair from the desk out and twisted it around. 

“Here, sit,” He motioned his hand towards it. Y/N laid her towel down on the seat and sat down. Her wound had left a large trail of blood down her arm and she fought the urge to wipe it with her hand. Caspian opened one of the desk drawers and pulled out disinfectant and a bandage. 

“Give me your arm,” He said, the words tumbling out of his mouth as he kneeled in front of the chair. He delicately cradled her arm in her hands and examined her cut. The skin of his hand was soft and gentle as it handled Y/N’s forearm. Taking a handkerchief out of his pocket, he tenderly cleaned the blood from her wound. 

“You are very pretty,” He almost purred. Y/N’s stomach burst into butterflies. 

“O-oh, thank you.” She stuttered in response, making him chuckle under his breath. 

He sprayed the disinfectant and Y/N’s body reacted naturally. 

“Ow! That hurt,” Y/N shrieked, pulling her arm back and almost out of his grip. 

“I know, I apologize. But it is necessary, you don’t want an infection.” Caspian pulled Y/N’s arm closer towards him and covered it in a bandage. 

“There you go, as good as new.” His hands trailed down her arm and grasped hers, bringing it to his mouth again. He kissed her knuckles twice then stood up. 

~

In the following months, Y/N and Caspian got very close. He taught her everything about Narnia and all about her cousin’s accomplishments. It was hard to believe at first, but once she saw Caspian and Edmund spar, she believed it. She loved watching Caspian spar; his face always scrunched as he focused and some of the sounds he makes. Mercy, the sounds he makes. 

“I guess this is it, then.” Y/N says, looking up into the eyes of the man she had become to love. 

“I will find you again, my love.” He said, taking a step closer to Y/N. 

“How? Cas, I probably won’t be able to come to Narnia again,” She sniffled. 

“I’ll find a way, I promise.”

Caspian leaned down and pressed a lasting kiss on Y/N’s lips. 

“Goodbye, Y/N. Until I see you again.”

~

Life was boring outside of Narnia. About a month passed since the crew had arrived back home, and none of them have really left the house. Y/N spent most of her time people watching from the window. 

“I wonder what Caspian is doing right now,” Y/N thinks out loud, talking to no one in particular. 

“Probably fighting someone or eating or something. That’s pretty much all he does,” Edmund responds. 

“That is not all he does!” 

“Oh right, he kisses you too. But you’re not there so that isn’t really an option for him.” Edmund grins wickedly and turns back to his book. 

“Ed! That’s not funny!” Y/N frowned. She hated thinking about her favorite boy being sad. Especially because of her.

“I thought it was funny,” He responded. Asshole. 

“Luce, can I go to the store with you? I can’t stand being in this house a moment longer.” Y/N stood up and looked down at the street. It was full of people going about their business. An old man sat upon a bench eating a banana. 

“I’m not sure you would really want to. You might see that boy.” That was another thing Y/N hated about being at home. The last time she went to the market with Lucy, this boy wouldn’t stop hitting on her. He was tall, blonde, and had bright blue glasses. He was conventionally attractive, but there was only one boy on Y/N’s mind. 

“Ack, you’re right. Never mind.” Looking back down at the city below, she saw a strange figure walking down the road. He was wearing a long poofy shirt and black trousers. He looked sort of like a pirate. The fact that he had long hair only added to the pirate look, as did his long boots. He reminded her of Caspian. She sighed and turned her head towards Edmund. 

“Eddie, come look at this guy. He looks exactly like Caspian.”

Edmund groaned and stood up, his only intention was to entertain his cousin. He knew that she was just trying to get over the guy, no matter how annoying it was. He looked down at the stranger and had to do a double-take. 

“Um, Y/N, don’t freak out, but I think that is Caspian.”

[the-fiction-witch]

The other side of paradise

MOVIE THE MAZE RUNNER

COUPLE NEWT X READER

RATING ADORABLE AF

This place of ours, soon became known as paradise.

And I suppose in some ways it was.

A paradise away from wicked.

A paradise away from the flare.

Away from infection.

Away from the sun.

The riots.

The death.

The destruction.

And all other horrors we had witnessed and injured.

I never called it paradise myself, it was a lovely place I couldn't deny, the sweet little houses and hammocks, the rocks and sand, the gardens, the binfires, the unspoken understanding that we all went thought something all lost those cases for, we all knew that all of us in our own way had been though hell and back.

I liked the place but I always found myself in the beach looking across the vast ocean

"Hey y/n" I heard behind me and I didn't even need to look up

"Hey Minho"

"How you doing?" He asks coming over and offering me a drink but I refused

"Rough."

"That's fair, you don't like it here? Do you?"

"Honestly? No. I don't."

"Why not?"

"As much as I'm happy to be here, with all of you, I just... I feel empty."

"We all miss them y/n, knowone expects you to come around instantly, take your time. We're all here for you" he says before heading back to camp, but the truth was, I didn't want to stay here, I loved minho, and gally, and Thomas, and all our other friends but... I know I can't stay here.

I woke up in a little medical hut at first I thought it had failed and was expecting the disappointed looks in there faces but I sat up seemingly like I wasn't hurt at all. I walked out seeing paradise similar but different,

"Hey? Your awake?" I turned and saw a bun of familiar dark hair

"Hey Teresa" I smiled widely

"Hey, we've missed you"

"I missed you guys too" I smiled giving her a tight hug "guess I made it then"

"Yeah, come in I'll show you around" she says leading me thought this place seeing so many freinds I had lost

"Y/n!" I heard a voice call out and little Chuckie ran to me hugging me close "I missed you big sis"

"I missed you two little guy" I laughed hugging him close too

"You should suprise him, he doesn't know your here yet" he laughs

"Suprise who Chuckie?"

"Hes in the gardens" he laughs before heading off somewhere else to do something, Teresa has to head off to something else to do, so I walked thought the fresh green grass, past wooden buildings by the sea, till I reached the gardens with little plants and flowers growing and there stood a sight that made me want to cry, he stood caring for a plant, in his loose light brown pants, a dark orange shirt the sleaves rolled to his elbows, his fair fluffy and glinting in the sunshine,

"Newt?" I asked making him stop short looking up he saw me and smiled widely tears in his eyes dropping his stuff I instantly ran into his arms and kissed his sweet lips, he still tasted the same, like mud, tea and soap. I had missed everything about him his skin, his hands, his body, his lips, his taste, his smell, his... Everything. He kissed me back as egarly as I kissed him wrapping his arms around my waist sitting them on my waist and hips as we always did I rested mine in his chest before I pulled away

"I missed you so much love"

"I missed you too" I cried nuzzling into his chest he cried a little to resting his head on mine "but newt? What is this place?"

"... Welcome to the other side of paradise love" he smiled kissing my head "we just have to wait for everyone else to get here too" he smiled

"I love you newt"

"I love you too y/n, come on I'll show you our hut" he smiled

[infernwetrust]

Never Enough [Jim Mason x Fem Reader] Pt 1.

Summary: The one where you and Jim have been dating for about a year and a half. And even after a year and a half, he still feels like he’s not enough for you, but of course you know he’s more than enough. 

Warnings: drug use, swearing, mentions of drug use, mentions of drug abuse, teeny bit mentions of domestic violence, mentions of smut, (don’t worry it’s coming)

WC: 2.1k 

A/N: First time writing about Jim. Honestly, he came to me in a dream a few nights ago and I just had to write something. Part 1 of a 2 part series. Thank you for reading! -Juno

Jim had finally convinced you to come to a party hosted by one of his friends. The music was loud and the only thing that lit up the room was a set amount of strobe lights. As you danced next to Medina, you watched your boyfriend closely. It made you warm to see him so happy. Drink in his hand, joint between his lips, he shared laughs with his friends. His hair was a sweaty mess from dancing all evening or engaging in stupid stunts.

He noticed that your eyes were burning into him. He looked up from his cup, his blue eyes meeting yours in a haze and whirlpool of emotions. You could tell sober Jim was far gone, but he was still your Jim. Jim has had sex with you not sober more times than he was sober. Shrooms were his favorite. He liked how sometimes he felt like a feather and sometimes he felt like a brick.

Removing his lips from his cup, he smiled at you, motioning for you to come over, but as you told him, this was his night. You two spent most of the days wrapped up in each other and decided that a few hours not being down each others throats were okay. You shook your head no, biting your lip at him.

"Have fun with your friends." you mouthed causing him to give you a drunken grin.

"You are my friend." he mouthed back, motioning for you to come over again and of course you shook your head no again, turning your attention from him and back onto Medina. It's not that you didn't want to be around him, because trust me, you did. You wanted to walk over there, take a sip of his drink, and press your lips to his. You wanted to jump into his arms and carry you away, but, you meant what you said.

"He can't get enough of you, can he?" she asked, running her hands through her hair.

"I would hope not." you replied. "But it's also good to give the boy some space. We haven't had any time apart really and I know he's been wanting to hang out with his friends."

"Well, I'm getting pretty tired of being inside. Beach house, beach party. Did you remember to bring your surf board?"

"I did! It's in Jim's car and he has the keys.. which means I would have to go ask him for the keys."

"And you know that comes with 21 questions."

"Orrrrrrr, you could go ask him."

"Where's the fun in that?"

"It's not gonna be fun when I get trapped with Jim."

"As if you don't want to. I know you've been staring at him all night."

"Will you please just go get them? Pretty please." Medina giggled knowing that she was just messing with you. She made her way off to Jim, engulfing her brother into a hug before engaging in conversation. After what about 5 minutes but seemed like 30 due to your own mild intoxication, you assumed she asked for his keys because he darted his eyes back and forth between Medina and you. He took his keys out his pocket, placing them in her hands before running his hands messily in her hair and sending her on her way.

"Okay, come on." she said, grabbing your hand. "Let's go get that surf board and change into our suits." Changing, you and Medina stood on the beach, staring at the ocean as the sun set.

"I'm glad I met you." you say to her. "And I'm glad you introduced me to Jim. Surfing was never something I thought I would be doing, but look at me now."

"Do you always have to make me cry, Y/N?" she asked. "We love you, so much. I'm glad I met you too and that you haven't turned your back on Jim and I. Especially, Jim. He's so fragile nowadays, especially with, you know. I don't like to bring it up at all. You convinced Jim to stop abusing those pills, something I've been trying to do for a while. You saved his life, Y/N."

But all of that came with its consequences. In the beginning of your relationship with Jim, the two of you fought constantly. Argue, fuck, and then makeup. And that's all it was for about 2 months into your year and a half relationship. If you were fighting Jim about his pills or trying to throw them away, he was fighting you about another boy that talked to you that day. No matter how many times you tried to reassure Jim that you weren't going anywhere, for the first 2 months of your relationship, he didn't believe you. And of course, that crushed you, but it wasn't enough to make you leave him.

Jim has only ever gotten physical with you once. High off of whatever he did that day, he shoved you a little too hard, causing you to hit your head on the side of the door frame a little too hard. You saw stars before you blacked out and from that day on he never touched you in a way that wasn't caring. Of course you forgave him. When Jim wasn't acting crazy, he was the sweetest boy in the world. Beach campfires, dinners, shopping sprees, Jim showed you nothing but love, because you did the same for him. In reality, you and Medina are all he has.

But Jim doesn't know how much he's helped you either. He was your first. Your first love too. You love him. You are in love with him and he knows that. Because he feels the same about you. Yes, you've dated other guys, but they were no where close as worthy as Jim was to having you. He rushed nothing. You didn't want to be touched right now? He was okay with that. You wanted to make out all night and not go any further? He was okay with that. You wanted to dry hump him just enough for the itch even though you weren't ready? He was okay with that.

4 months. You made Jim wait 4 months for you and when you finally told him you wanted to go all the way, a fire ignited in him. He took care of you. He made it all about you. He made sure you came first and more than once. You still remember his sweet voice asking if this and that is okay or if he was hurting you, but all you kept telling him was that you need to feel him and that you need to feel him now. And once the pain turned into pleasure, you got lost in him. For the next week, all you wanted was Jim inside of you. He was covered, back, chest, arms, and ass, in scratches that stung like hell to touch. He would laugh as you apologized for it, kissing on them, cleaning them up so they wouldn't get infected, but he loved that you loved to mark him up. The two of you caused a great concern, being covered in hickeys. Your parents thought he was abusing you and Medina thought that he was on the streets fighting, but the both of you know why. Jim, he was, he was made for you.

"Medina." you said, snapping yourself out of your own thoughts.

"Hmmm?" she questioned as the two of you continued to stare off into the water.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"Everything. Now let's go hit these waves." The evening, well into the night was spent with you and Medina laughing as you toppled over on your surf board a few times. You played in the sand, drawing random things, even playing tic tac toe. As soon as the two of you dried off and decided that you wanted to get back in the water again, just to swim, you felt a strong pair of hands around you. Whoever grabbed you smelt heavily of beer and weed. You were about to freak out when you saw the pair of hands that were wrapped around your body. Jim.

"Heyyyy." he slurred in your ear, wobbling as he struggled to hold himself up. "You two enjoying the ocean without me?" You turned around to meet him, he was so sweaty, not just his hair, but his whole body. His eyes were super red and bloodshot.

"Jim." you said. "Are you okay? You're burning up. Let's get you out of these clothes. Medina you can go ahead and get back in the water, I'll be out there with you in a minute."

"I'm fucking thriving, baby." Jim answered you, almost falling back into the sand, but you grabbed his shirt to hold him up.

"How many have you had and what did you have?"

"Shit, I don't fucking know. Maybe like 9. I smoked a little green. Just kidding, I smoked a lot of green and I took a shroom, baby, I am on cloud nine right now. They tried to get me to take a pill, but I said, no no no, Y/N wouldn't like that." He started to giggle.

"Jim you look like you're about to expire."

"Expire from happiness!" You sighed, getting Jim to sit down in the sand. You took his jacket off, followed by his shirt, moving his hair out his face so it wouldn't get into his eyes. You fought for a little bit to get his pants off, but he did let you take them off of him.

"Come on." you said, struggling to pick him back up. "Let's sit a little closer to the water, cool you down."

"Mhmmmmk." was all he said as stumbled getting up, falling back down hard into the sand. "Mmmph, shit. I'm okay. I'm okay."

"Is he gonna be okay?!" Medina shouted to ask you from the water.

"Yeah!" you responded. "He's just fucking out of it!"

"Hey, don't you talk about me." he slurred, finally getting back up on his own two feet. "I'm doing just fine." You wrapped your arm around his waist and the both of you, mostly because of him, stumbled closer to the water, sitting on the beginning of the sand bar. "You are so fucking pretty, has anyone told you that? Well no one besides me should be telling you that anyways."

"You do, all the time, baby." you replied, giving him a warm smile. As the waves came on shore and went, you made sure that Jim got wet to cool his body down. You got water in your hands to put on his hair, making sure none of it got in his eyes, because it is ocean water after all. And all while you were doing this, he was sitting there thinking how he didn't deserve you. He was sitting next to you, a drunken and high mess in the sand, wondering how he got so lucky.

"Why do you do this for me?" he asked, swaying a little bit.  

"Because I love you, Jim. No matter what. We all still have some demons to fight and we're going to fight them together."

"I'm so tired of fighting my demons." You could hear that he wanted to start crying. "I'm so fucked up. I feel like I'm never enough for you. You deserve so much more than what I give you."

"Jim do you remember what we said to each other the first time you ever spent the night at my house?" Well he probably doesn't because he's too intoxicated. You questioned yourself as to why you even asked, but then he gave you answer.

"If it ever gets too much, or you want out, or you feel like you can't do this anymore, the first sign, so we don't hurt each other, say something."

"And I haven't said anything and I don't plan on saying anything. Jim you are more than enough for me. Behind your hard exterior, is a caring guy and that's who I fell in love with." He sighed, slowly laying back into the sand, not caring how many times the water brushed up against him. You did the same, turning your head to meet his gaze. You ran your hand across his cheek, running your thumb over his perfectly shaped jaw. You could tell his was trying to calm down, trying to ride his intoxication, rather than letting it ride him. His breathing slowed from being erratic to almost normal. He grabbed onto your hand, giving it a gentle kiss before placing it on his chest.

"I love you so much, Y/N. And I know I'm a little fucked right now, but I mean that. Sober or not sober." he slurred. "I m-m-m" He hiccuped.

"Ssssh." You put your finger to his lips, just wanting him to focus on calming himself down. "Relax, baby. Close your eyes if you need to. I know and I'm right here with you."

I'll always be right here with you.

Taglist: @jimmason @angelicmichael @whatcodysaid

[kyasarinkishinuma]

Hey, hey! I can request Joseph from part 2? Reader is in love with him but she's too shy to confess to him so she secretly leaves him gifts and poems she wrote about him. I hope it's not problem for you!

Hey there! Sure thing, buddy. I hope this is to your liking!

By the way, the 'poem' I wrote was partly inspired by this wonderful post. (Tell me what you guys think of the poem?)

Joseph Joestar x Shy! Reader! : Love Poems

You were the quiet girl on the island. The girl no one ever noticed. The pair of eyes who could peek, and the pair of ears that could eavesdrop, without ever getting caught.

You were incredibly shy, which contributed to making you so invisible to everyone. You were easily scared away by strangers, prone to running away at the slightest jump. Disappearing from such strangers was so easy, too, given that you had memorized all of the island's hiding spots by now.

However, there was one person unknown to you that you didn't quite want to run away from.

That person was the handsome American newcomer, Joseph Joestar.

Somehow, his bold, cocky nature endeared you. It wasn't quite like Caesar's, it was more of a brash, loud kind of pride. It practically radiated from the young man, and you had seen that uncontained energy of his explode into uncontrolled waves of passion oh so often.

Joseph Joestar was quite a show to watch.

He had met you only once. That had been when, thinking you were alone, you were dashing down the hallway. Damn JoJo and his silent footwork. You bumped right into his chest, falling back onto your butt with a slight squeak.

JoJo hadn't seen you coming, given how fast you had been running. However, as soon as his brain processed what had happened, guilt contorted his gorgeous features as he gasped slightly. "Oh no!" He dashed to your aid, moving onto one knee in front of you to help you up. "I'm sorry, I didn't see you there! Are you all right?"

Of course, you were glowing redder and redder by the second, given how humiliated you were by the situation. But when you saw Joseph's hand enter your field of vision... Oh dear.

"Hey, come now. Are you hurt?" Joseph stared at you, obviously dumbfounded by your red, pouting cheeks. "...I haven't met you before, have I? What's your name?"

"I-I'm all right!" Embarrassment suddenly propelled you to your feet, your delicate hands clutching onto the bottom of your dress tightly as you bowed, unable to meet the man's eyes. "T-Thank you for asking! Goodbye!!"

And off you went, in the opposite direction, leaving a confused JoJo in your wake. His eyes followed your running form as he frowned slightly, tilting his head. "Women are such curious creatures..."

Later that day, over dinner, he had asked Caesar about you. The Italian man had chuckled at his story, offering an amused smile.

"Of course you scared her off, you're so tall and loud. (Y/N)'s been here for a long time now. She's very shy, so we never see her very much. I'm not sure why she's here. Perhaps she is training in the ways of Hamon as well."

The truth was, you had been taken in by Lisa Lisa, a good friend of your mother's, when she died. You had nowhere else to go to, and the Hamon master had known you since you were born. She was one of the few people you talked to on the island, but she was often busy. When you weren't reading your poems to her during her baths, you were usually alone, secretly observing the island's occupants as they trained.

It was a lonely life, which is why you had so much time to write and to craft. Once Joseph came into your life, though, despite how intimidating he could seem, everything you created felt... Different. His energy and goofiness, his great, wide smile, seemed to infect every page you wrote.

You watched him train more often than you watched others train, amazed by his strength and his determination. He improved drastically within the few weeks he had.

His courage to train to go up against these so-called gods awed you. And, ultimately, it inspired you.

You'd be brave, too.

The first time Joseph saw one of your gifts delicately deposited upon his desk, he was fuming. It was a flower. And guess who offers flowers on the island?

Breaking up his brawl with Caesar had been extremely difficult for Loggins and Messina. Flustered by Caesar's supposed prank, Joseph had been in a bitter mood that day.

Despite his initial reaction, you swallowed your fear and pressed on, offering another flower the next day. And the day after that. And the one after.

Joseph, despite his looks, wasn't dumb. He soon realized Caesar had never been the source of these gifts. But then, who was it?

You weren't ready to tell him.

Not until he suddenly left to go after the Pillar Men.

Haunted by the very real possibility of his demise, you had gathered your courage, ready to confess your feelings before he went to face the ultimate warrior, Wamuu. But Lisa Lisa, Caesar and he had gone so urgently that you didn't have the chance.

The next nights were deadly quiet on the island. And yet, you were restless, tossing in your bed over and over.

The only people you knew, the only people you had left, were possibly fighting for their lives and for humanity at that very moment.

Lisa Lisa, your mentor, was fighting.

Caesar, the charming Italian playboy, was fighting.

JoJo, the boy you had come to love, was fighting.

The thought was unbearable. Trying to sleep was unbearable.

And suddenly, you were jumping out of bed, your fingers granted with sudden vigor.

Maybe Joseph Joestar would no longer be real after this night. But your feelings, they'd remain real no matter what.

And they demanded they be written down, so they, along with Joseph's spirit, would carry on endlessly through time.

And so, you wrote.

*****

Joseph came back to the island, battered, a few days later. He had been rescued, stranded at sea upon a huge rock, and his wounds had been tended to.

Even though he cockily shrugged his injuries off, it had taken a few days for him to wake up after his fateful battle against Kars. And when he did, he was greeted by the sight of gorgeous flowers decorating his room, and a bottle of good old Coca Cola on his bedstand, along with a card.

And, despite being Joseph Joestar, Joseph Joestar couldn't help but blush as he read the poem you had written for him.

"The story of Joseph Joestar is one

That is hard to tell. It is a story that is

Full of laughter, yet full of tears,

For it is the tale of a man

Who fought to save the world.

The fate of humanity is reflected

In the ocean of his eyes.

Alive and bright, rippling with energy

And confidence.

He won't give up, no, Joseph Joestar

Will never give up, for he has

The pride of a lion.

And yet, if he does have to go,

If this ultimate quest must take his life,

So be it. But he will be dearly missed,

And his laughter will carry on in

These printed words and in the wind that carries

His last breath.

It will haunt us forever, reminding us of

A future as bright and hopeful as his eyes."

[END]