#what is it with blond x dark hair ships?

[jellytamalies]

i think i might have a problem

[seventh-district]

tag limit my beloathed... continuing my analysis of my potentially Sun x Moon coded ships here ↓

[rayaswrittings]

I just want to feel

Pairing: Colby Brock x Fem!best friend!reader

Summary: your best friends, Sam and Colby, ask you to be in one of their Q&A videos, but there’s alcohol involved… a lot of it.

Warning(s): SMUT! Mature Language, mature themes, kissing, alcohol, unprotected p in v, Friends to lovers trope :)), choking etc.

This is a long writing so I’m sorry for mistakes!

“Are you sure I should be in the video? I mean, your fans barely know about me” You ask for a final time as Sam leads you to the living room, his recording camera already set up in front of the couch where Colby had been sitting. The two of them were wearing all black so you did too, a black off the shoulder sweater that was old. It was one of the main things you’d leave at Sam and Colby’s in case you ever crashed for the night.

While most people would kill to be in their videos, you never really saw the point. You were somewhat camera shy and a complete nobody. Why would anyone care to see you on the screen? Not to mention all the random internet ships that come with it all. You grew up with Sam, which means you ultimately grew up with Colby as soon as they met. You were only a teenager and now that your adults, you stay at theirs from time to time when your out with friends and get wasted at a party.

Colby would always come and get you from them.

“Our fans will love you. Just be honest and chill, okay?” Sam nods toward Colby and you walk past him to sit next to the dark haired boy, his strong cologne filling your nose.

“Don’t be nervous, at least we have alcohol” Colby’s comment made a small laugh escape from your lips, and you shook your head at his playful smirk. He was right. Alcohol always calmed you down and made your anxiety a little bit less of what it usually was.

You watch the blonde lean forward to turn on the camera and Colby does the same, although you sit back and watch them do their intro. You’d only been in a few other videos of there’s as a small guest but they always made it known to their fans who you were. After all, you all basically started off nobody’s together.

You remember the last morning you had left for school with Sam in freshman year. It was the last day you’d left alone with him for the rest of high school. Your parents were close to each other so you and Sam had practically known each other for most of your lives, but that day, when he met Colby, it wasn’t just the two of you anymore.

The three of you would take the bus together every morning and walk home every afternoon, spending almost every second in between still with one another. It was perfect. Your group was so refreshing, it felt so right.

Your first argument was when you were in junior year, at a party you knew you shouldn’t of been at.

At the time, you’d been talking to this senior, James. He was the captain of your schools swim team and fairly muscular for his 17 years of age. That night at the party was the first time you’d really done anything, he kept handing you shots and like an idiot, you took them. Looking back on it now, you know it could’ve been avoided, but you also trusted the boy you liked. You truly wanted to just fit in with his friends.

That was until he tried to to undo your crochet top in the middle of the dance floor, whispering dirty nothings into your ear that made you feel disgusting.

When you told him off, he got angry with you, grabbing your arm and trying to pull you away so he could get you alone. People were starting to stare and you were starting to get embarrassed, like you were some random slut he’d been taking upstairs.

But then he was ripped away from you, and in only a matter of seconds, Sam’s hand was laid on the small of your back, checking you for bruises the boy might’ve given you. He was trying to talk to you, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the chaos on the floor.

“Colby, get off of him!” You scream, noticing the blood coming from James’s face. Colby was on top of him, punching him the hardest you’d ever seen anyone punch, not sparing him anything. Sam held you back when you tried to get close, they saw what he did to you and there was no way in hell they’d let it slide.

The sound of police sirens fill the street and everyone is quickly running out of the house, and finally Colby stands up. He wipes his now busted lip before looking back at his two friends, but you couldn’t take your eyes off the bloody mess laid on the floor.

You hated blood.

“Y/N-“ you push yourself off Sam and past Colby, looking out the window to watch the police cars pull in front of the house. It looked like a murder scene, and you were so in shock you couldn’t even think straight. “Y/N, we have to go” Colby tries to grab your arm but you quickly pull it away, and now he’s able to see the tears streaming down your cheeks.

“Get out of here!” You can hear the officers radio the closer they get, and all you could think about was getting Sam and Colby out of there. “Go! Please just go!” Your pleading words make it almost impossible to not listen, and with only a few more seconds, your friends were gone.

That was the day you realized the severity of your friendship— or at least you and Colby’s friendship. The fact that all of you would do anything for each other, whether that was beating up an abuser, or putting your life on the line for the other person.

Ever since then, you and Colby had this undeniable tension between the two of you. It was weird, like something you couldn’t figure out. It was only made purely visible that night.

You’d never even kissed Colby, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about it sometimes. Your usually able to hide it, your desire for the boy, except when your at parties.

Whenever you drink, it’s like everything has to come out the way you think it. Nothing like liquid courage, huh? That’s the exact reason you didn’t want to do the video.

You never stopped thinking about that night.

“Y/N?” You blinked at the touch against your arm, and Colby was looking at you with a slight confusion on his face. “You okay?” You notice the camera’s recording light and nod, sitting up with a smile. “I think it’s time to get drunk, huh?” He nudged you and you nod with a laugh “first question!”

One of your other friends was there reading the questions for you, and even though you thought you’d start off light, she did not give you a break.

“What’s the worst doing the dirty experience you’ve had?” Sam and Colby stare at each other for a second until one of them laughs, shaking their head with the dumbest response. Sam, of course makes a joke out of it but Colby has no shame in what he says, as always.

“One time I had a girl use a lot of teeth, and uh… we never talked again. It was very awkward” Sam hisses at the statement, which makes you laugh too. “What about you, Y/N?” Colby turns to you and your face almost turns red from the sudden eyes on you. Everyone in the room and the camera was waiting on you now.

“Uh… I guess the last time I was talking to a guy. I had to fake the whole thing and he finished quick so it just felt so awkward and it was silent the rest of the night” Colby and Sam raise their eyebrows at you but are laughing at the same time. They knew who you were talking about.

“Colby, why do you post with girls on social media and never tell the fans what’s going on?” The question takes all of you by surprise and Colby’s eyes go wide. That was exactly what happened with you and why you didn’t want to be on the channel that much anymore.

“Umm…” He laughs nervously, looking over at you for a split second. “Because sometimes, I don’t know what’s going on, alright? I’m just posting the post and maybe it turns into something or maybe it doesn’t?”

“It’s not like their your girlfriend” Sam interjects and Colby nods agreeably.

“Let’s just say if I had a girlfriend, you guys would know” After you guys are done with that question, your kind of sitting back and watching the two answer at that point. Except they had to drink once so you did too, now you were all one shot in.

“Colby, why do you have a pair of handcuffs in your room?” Everyone’s face is in shock in the room as they look at Colby, waiting for his answer. He laughs nervously again, looking over at same with wide eyes before sitting up.

“I uh… you know I-“

“Might have to drink on that one, huh?” You tease and he rolls his eyes at your words with a laugh, closing the alcohol bottle he was about to open.

“No, no. I um… I use them for personal fun. Yeah, that’s-“

“What the fuck does that mean” You and Sam burst out laughing but your friend shakes her head. “Judge says no. Drink!” Sam hands him the bottle and Colby’s face is now turning a slight red. A tint only you could see because of how close you were.

“I’ve used them for sexual fun” He says just as he’s about to pour the shot, but your friend rolls her eyes and nods that he doesn’t have to drink.

“That was luck” Colby nudges your arm and shrugs, that annoying smirk of his only making you laugh.

“Name two dirty kinks you have” The girl reads and all three of you are wide eyeing the camera. Sam curses under his breath and Colby is still in shock. It was still so early in the game, already?

“Wait, I’m not answering that. I already said one, right?” Sam agrees to Colby but the judge shakes her head. “Just one more then? I already day said one!”

“You go first, Y/N” Sam cuts off his clearly pressured friend and they both turn to you, but your face is an even deeper red then Colby’s now.

“Um… I don’t—I mean it’s been a long time so I don’t really know…”

“Oh come on, Everyone has them” Colby teases and you glare at him, letting out a sigh as you sat back on the couch.

Apart of you was afraid to tell them, because you’d never really been that open with them about sexual preferences. Sam wasn’t the one you were worried about, him and Katrina were perfectly locked in with each other and you knew whatever you said didn’t matter.

But with Colby, there was always this unspoken tension between the two of you. One you tried to ignore but always failed terribly when you’d see him make out with another girl. You were afraid he’d see right through you if you answered the question, and if there was one thing you couldn’t ignore,

It was the way he’d look at you.

“I think… I think choking is attractive, but like not too aggressively, you know?”

“So your submissive?” Colby’s words go through your ear and straight down. He was clearly trying to get to you with that question, and there it was again.

The tension between the two of you.

“Sometimes” You try to cover it up but you can feel his eyes piercing right through you, his smirk showing the small of his pearly white teeth that always made you blush. “What about you then, hmm? Mr. Talk shit” You push his face and the two of them laugh, but Colby is no longer embarrassed to say it.

“I like to be Dominant” He says to the camera and Sam blows air from his mouth, shake his head in disbelief. Colby isn’t looking at you on purpose. Oh god, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

You lean back on the couch, scratching your nose to try and hide your burning hot cheeks from everyone’s eyes. It was like he was doing it on purpose. He was so clearly teasing you.

And you wished it wasn’t working, but it’s been so long that it’s impossible for your stomach not to twist into multiple knots.

Or at least that’s the excuse you gave yourself.

After many more questions and many more drinks, the alcohol started to take a toll on all three of you already. You had only had three shots and even the camera was hard to focus on. Sam and Colby’s eyes had been getting red but yours were harder to see because of your eyelashes.

“Who do you think is the most attractive clubhouse member besides Kat” Colby and your own eyes go wide and you both stare at Sam. Obviously he couldn’t answer that, but neither could you, right?

“None! Sorry, gotta drink to that. Can’t answer cause it ain’t true” Sam sasses the camera while opening the bottle. Colby laughs, both of you applauding your friend.

“Yeah, I’m gonna drink to that one as well” Colby reaches down to grab the other bottle from the floor, pouring it into his shot glass. “I can’t answer that, but I do have someone in mind” he cheers to the camera and his words alone make your stomach twist once again. It definitely wasn’t you, but saying something like that… after the other questions..

“What about you, Y/N?” The girl asks as the boys down their own shots. She raises an eyebrow, “might as well give us something here, right?” As much as you wanted to decline and run away embarrassed, you could feel the liquid courage increasing.

The way everyone looked at you, they all knew who it was. You leaned back with a huff, you could feel Colby’s eyes on you the entire time you were stalling, but when you looked at him, his eyes pierced through you.

“I think… I think I’ll drink too” Sam and Colby boo at you when you pour the shot. You couldn’t do it. He didn’t either so that must mean he doesn’t… feel the same, Right?

“I can’t even see the camera anymore, dude” Sam laughs at Colby’s words. Sam has more shots then the two of you so you’d imagine he’d be the one saying it, but of course it was Colby.

Maybe that’s why he was looking at you like that..

Towards the end of the video, all three of you were pretty drunk. Sam was the least, you were in the middle, and Colby… Jesus. Colby was so drunk.

“Fuck, man” Colby lays his head on the end table for just a second, you could tell his head was spinning. You rub his back, his body temperature is very warm. You look over to Sam and nod toward the camera, and Sam immediately understands.

“Maybe we should take a small break?”

“Where are you going?” You ask Sam, watching him put on his jacket and grab his keys. You finished the video about 30 minutes ago and Colby was on the couch watching tv, while you had just changed into night clothes which really were only comfy shorts and a crop top like usual.

“I have to go stay at Kat’s tonight. We’re heading to her parents tomorrow morning” You hum, pouring a glass of water for yourself and one for Colby. You had forgotten Sam was going away for a few days. “Try not to have too much fun while I’m gone” You stop and look at him with slightly furrowed brows, but he’s just raising his eyebrows with a shrug, leaving you with the confusion of his statement.

He doesn’t… he can’t know, right? You weren’t that obvious.

“Water?” Your voice is enough to catch Colby’s attention from the tv. He was watching some random scary movie it looked like but you’d never seen it so you weren’t completely sure. You hand him the water and take a seat next to him, leaving a gap between the two of you. You had thought the tension would be gone by now but it clearly wasn’t, you could only hope it was just your overthinking.

“What’s up with you? You were being weird the whole video” His question makes you somewhat relieved. Maybe he didn’t suspect anything, maybe it really was all just in your own head—but how were you meant to explain you couldn’t focus because of how badly you wanted him. Even now, he was leaned back on the couch, his hair messy from running his hands through it and his tattoos on full display for you to look at. Jesus, it felt like torture.

Why did you have to get drunk?

“I just didn’t feel good” You shrug, looking over at the tv and tilting the glass of water toward your lips. You can feel his eyes on you, waiting for you to give him a real answer but he doesn’t push you. He only takes a sip of his water, turning back to the movie.

“Are you going home tonight?” You glance at the clock, it’s already 11. Should you? You have a room here, you didn’t really need to.

But did he want you to?

“I was planning on staying but if you don’t want me to-“

“I want you to stay” Your stomach twists, with excitement and somewhat nervousness at the same time. He was being direct but he wasn’t even looking at you. You wanted to stay and watch the movie with him, but the more you looked at him, the more the drunken side of you just wanted to kiss him.

You wanted him.

“Come here” You hesitate for a few seconds before placing your drink back on the glass table in front of you, moving to sit closer to the boy. His arm was laid on the back of the couch and he opens the blanket he’d been using to you. He wanted you close.

Your practically curled next to him by the middle of the movie, head laid in the crook of his neck and your legs sitting on top of his own. Not much had been said all movie, but Colby was getting more and more touchy as it went on.

His fingers traced shapes on your bare legs under the blanket, the cold metal of his rings sometimes brushing against your skin. He made it seem so normal, like it was an every day thing the two of you did together.

But this only made you so much hornier.

His scent radiates from his neck, and it was almost as if you wanted to kiss his neck right then and there. It was so alluring—He was so alluring to you.

And he knew it.

“Do you want to tell me why you were really acting weird today?” He asks again, looking down at the tent his hand made under the blanket while he caressed your leg.

You bite your bottom lip, looking at the blanket as well. You could feel the tingling feeling between your legs as his hand touched you farther, as if he had been testing the waters before actually saying anything.

“Colby…” You can’t help but pull your legs even closer together, and that alone is all he needed to tell him how you felt. “Not everything needs an explanation. It’s just… complicated”

“Complicated, huh?” He hums sarcastically, in a knowing form. You bite your lip as you watch him rub his temple, frustration radiating off of him. “You know, For the longest time, I tried to let this whole thing go out of respect for you, Y/N” He mumbled, his voice low and husky with passion. God, he sounded so hot. Even if he was upset, you just couldn’t help yourself. “I always thought it would be you and Sam” He lets out a huffed chuckle, still keeping his eyes on his lap. “But I want it to be me”

What?

No. He isn’t… he doesn’t mean what you think, right? Colby Brock isn’t confessing his feelings for you, right?

“Colby, what’s wrong with you?” His body tenses when you ask that stupid question. What’s wrong with him? Like you didn’t know.

“What’s wrong with me? What about you?” He finally turns his head to look at you, his drunken, sad and very horny eyes staring lasers into yours. “You can’t seriously sit here and believe yourself when you ask me that question” You couldn’t think. You didn’t even move for awhile because of your lack of words or thoughts for that matter. You wanted to give in, but you were also so terrified of if it wasn’t real.

“Colby, I’m not the person you want. Trust me, you will figure that out soon enough” He scoffs as you get off the couch, trying to at least relieve some of the tension between the two of you. Colby was so tired of waiting, but you were just too scared.

“How do you know what I want? You’ve barely spoke to me the past few weeks!” The boy calls after you when your walking away from the couch, his voice only makes you stop. “You’ve been weird for weeks, Y/N. Don’t ask me what’s wrong with me when you can’t even tell me how you feel”

“Colby, I don’t know how I feel!” You turn around with frustration, staring at the back of his head. He was still sat on the couch, and part of you hoped he stayed there—but another part wanted him to go after you. “I haven’t just been distant because of you-“

“That’s such bullshit and you know it” He stands, turning to look at you. You were far too drunk for this. You could feel the unnecessary tears already filling your eyes, you didn’t want to argue with him. “Look me in my eyes and tell me that—then I’ll let it go”

“Can we please just talk about this tomorrow-“

“You know what I think? I think your just scared of feeling weak. Your scared of letting someone in, Y/N. And the past few weeks we’ve been getting closer than before, that’s why your distant now. That’s your biggest weakness” Colby scoffs, grabbing his jacket off the couch and slipping it on with ease. You furrow your eyebrows as he walks toward you, and past you.

You grab his arm, “Colby, your drunk. Don’t go out, Please” he’s avoiding your eyes but you can see the chisel on his jaw, clenching with what you thought had been anger. “I don’t know how to do this, Colby. I… I can’t even bring myself to say the words I want to say to you” He tears his arm away from you, snatching his keys from the countertop. No. You couldn’t let it end like that—not when you have so much to say. “Okay, fine!”

“You want the truth, Colby? For years all I felt for you for you, all in silence because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship with Sam and Each other. I watched you with other girls since we were juniors! I couldn’t stand you, but yet I also couldn’t stand to be without you. Everywhere I go, I always want you with me—and when i’d see you with other girls, it would make me feel stupid, like my feelings meant nothing to you even if you didn’t know”

“How was I supposed to tell you that? How was I supposed to tell you that even after everything that’s happened, I still can’t stop loving you!” Your confession slips like words of anger said in an heated argument. Colby still wasn’t looking at you, which only made your heart ache even worse. You just poured your heart out to him—couldn’t he at least look at you?

“When you got put in the hospital during senior year, I was there every fucking second with you! I cried, Colby! I was a mess for days, and Sam was the one who had to juggle the two of us!” You remembered that day like it was yesterday. The day you’d gotten into a huge argument with Sam about your feelings for Colby. Sam always knew of both your feelings, but he didn’t say anything to the other. If you were going to admit, it had to be to each other. “I’m usually so good at hiding how I feel, but I’m getting so tired of it. The Same repeating cycle I just-“

“Why didn’t you just tell me, Y/N. Why didn’t you-“

“Are you serious? After all those talks we had about you not caring for a relationship and not wanting a future with someone? You were practically telling me no! I wanted to tell you but then you started going to parties more and kissing girls and-“

“Y/N”

“It hurt me, Colby. That’s why I didn’t tell you. It would physically hurt my chest to see you kiss another girl after flirting with me for DAYS. You played with my head and I know I played with yours too but-“

“Y/N, I’m-“

“No matter how hard I try or how many guys I find, there’s nothing for me. I can’t… I can’t move past you and it fucking sucks” You hadn’t even realized he moved until you were done talking. He was close now—close enough to hear his breathing if you’d been quiet enough. Your heart shatters with every passing moment that’s goes silent. You knew you couldn’t be the same after this, so you begged in your mind for him to say something.

Only he didn’t say anything, and for a moment you actually thought he’d leave you there alone.

But you two were meant to love each other, Remember?

A silent moan escapes your mouth as he crashes his lips into your own, the sound muffled by his. The kiss is filled with so much passion it could make one’s heart explode if you weren’t too careful, it felt like the two of you had been waiting years to do this.

Which you were.



After the first kiss, the two of you didn’t waste any time. Colby pulled you up, your legs wrapping around him as you continued to make out with the dark haired boy. His large hands cupped your ass, and soon enough you felt your back hit the cold wall. One of your hands were laid on the side of his neck while the other held the back of his hair, tugging on it slightly.

It had only been a few seconds ago you were sitting watching a movie—how in the hell did you both get here so quick?

He carried you to the couch, sitting down so you could straddle his lap instead of holding yourself up against his waist.

His hands release your ass and move up your back, slipping under your shirt to unclip your bra.

Colby smirks against your lips and removes his hand from your shirt, lifting your chin to pull away from the kiss. “Dirty girl” You hum as his lips attach to your neck, his comment making you all the more wet then you already were. You didn’t put a bra on—and Colby seemed to have really liked that you didn’t. “You make such pretty sounds—wish I could’ve heard them sooner”

You can feel the hardness under you, and the more you grind on him, the more you can feel his grip on you tighten. It didn’t hurt—it just turned you on even more.

“Colby, Please” You plead breathlessly. You wanted him to do more then just kiss your neck. You wanted him to take you to his room, to do everything he’d do to someone else. “You don’t have to be gentle with me” you tug his hair gently, meeting his lust filled eyes. You were desperate for him and you didn’t care, you’d waited since junior year to have your way with him—to have him want you.

“I’ll leave marks all over you, Y/N” he says in a slightly warning tone as if he didn’t want to completely destroy you in that moment, but you shake your head, grabbing his hand that slipped to the waistband of your sleeper shorts.

“I just want to feel something” You say in a tone he’d never heard you in before, one that made him want you even worse then before. You slip your hand off his own and place it on his chiseled chest, feeling the crease of his abs all the way down until you reached his belt. You wanted him, you just wanted him to know that. “I want to feel you, Colby. I want you”

“You want me to treat you like everyone else?” You hesitate but nod after a few seconds, slipping off his lap to stand to your feet. He stands in front of you, his height making a clear difference above you. His expression hadn’t changed yet, he was so hard to read. “I won’t do that, Y/N” Before you could say anything, he was already picking you up and wrapping your legs around his waist again, crashing his lips back into yours as he made his way to his room.

This man… you didn’t know how to describe the feeling you had when he kissed you, but it was unlike anything you’d ever felt before. He was so different from everyone else you’d been with, and you didn’t know why.

You did. Deep down you knew why he made you feel the way he did. Colby was the only guy you truly wanted. Even when you had a boyfriend, you still wanted him instead.

He drops you onto his bed, removing his black wife beater and throwing it to the side, revealing his tattooed body you’ve grown to love looking at. He looked so good in this lighting, and the way his hair fell messy over his forehead—you couldn’t stop your thoughts from running wild.

“I want you, Y/N. I need to know I have all of you—that your only for me” You pick your head up to look at him briefly, fingers playing with the string of his pants. “I won’t treat you like some random slut when your not”

The feeling of his fingertips brushing against your skin made you shiver, it made you feel as if this might’ve not been real, maybe a dream after all. But after seeing his face and feeling his hand stop just above your waistline, everything felt at ease.

“I’ve always been yours, Colby Brock” That was all he needed to hear, all he needed to give into you.

And soon enough, here you were again, pinned against the bed while Colby’s hands grip your waist, peppering sweet kisses against your neck. You almost couldn't hold it in.

Your hand slowly found its way to the back of his neck, running your fingers through his hair as his wandering hands went right under your shorts. You knew what you were doing with the outfit, and it only made him laugh just thinking about it.

“Please, Colby. I don’t want you to hold back… I want you to give me all of you” you were smirking to yourself, biting your nail like this was somewhat funny to you. Colby didn’t see the appeal, if he was going to fuck you, he was going to ruin you for anyone else.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Y/N” He tells you with a sharp tone, moving to place his hands against the beds cloth, closing you between him. You smirk, looking him up and down once before looking back to his face.

“I’m tired of waiting” The two of you laid there, staring at the other for what felt like forever until He finally gave in, cursing himself under his breath before he grabbed your neck to pull you into a rough kiss. Your body is flush against his as he completely explores your body with his hands. You could feel his growing erection, you could feel his hunger for your body like he felt yours.

“Colby” You mumble in a breathless moan. His lips remove from yours and move to your jaw, hungrily peppering wet kisses down it, all the way to your neck.

“You are so fucking hot, Jesus” He groans against your ear, placing soft kisses on your sensitive skin. Your moans are what encourage him the most. Hearing your sweet whimpers in his ear as he sucked on your neck felt like a dream. Believe god, he’d had that dream many, many times before.

“I’ve waited so long for this” Your breathless under him, gripping his hair between your small fingers. You could feel his cock pressing against you, begging for your tongue. It was big—he was so fucking big. It should’ve scared you but you were more intrigued, grinding your hips against his to gain some friction with the little time you had before he stopped your bratty movements.

“I know you have” He teases and you only roll your eyes, grabbing his hand that held you steady against him. You could feel his lips brushing your skin, he wanted to mark you, and you wanted him to. You wanted Colby Brock to let everyone know you were his.

“Nothings stopping me from walking out that door” You hum, holding his head and slightly pushing it down so his lips reattached to your neck. “I’ll find someone else—someone who hasn’t played with me for years” A grunt escapes his mouth as if he had been fighting with the feeling, shaking his head between your neck before meeting your eyes again; your bratty, untamed eyes.

“You’ve waited so long I thought? So long your body even reacts when I look at you” He’s so obviously joking and you love every second of it. Every word of degradation is like music to your ears, like a forbidden kink you didn’t know you had. “This is what you wanted, huh? All those looks you’d give me after I’d make out with randoms—you were so jealous, Sweetheart” Your ears are perking at his every word but your eyes were filled with annoyance. Colby knew now so why would you hide it? Hide your jealousy? “All those times, you could’ve just told me you wanted me and I would’ve given it all to you. Nobody else”

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling you closer to his body then before with a smirk, shrugging your shoulders. “That doesn’t matter. I have you now” His eyes. Oh god, his eyes were so hungry. At first you didn’t know what to think but it only took you a few seconds to realize once his large arms were wrapped around your thighs, pulling your body close to him.

His chin sat against your stomach, staring up at you like he had been waiting for you to say something. But you didn’t know what he was planning until his thumb was ghosting around your clothed clit, that same smirk pulling at his lips as he watched you.

He slips your shorts off with ease, along with your black lace underwear, tossing them both to the side.

“Fuck” You breath heavily, leaning your head back against the sheets, not even realizing the boy under you was now fully under you. “S-shit!” Your hand fell clasp over your mouth to silence your moan, eyes falling back on him under you. Except now, his face was pressed into your dripping wet cunt, and his fingers teased what his mouth didn’t. “Fucking hell, Colby” You mumble under your unsteady breath, trying your hardest not to moan because he had just started and you didn’t want to seem weak.

But holy shit, this boy knew how to use his tongue.

Your hand fell atop his head in hopes to gain some sort of stability but that quickly failed, given how badly he was attacking your clit. His mouth was warm against you and you already knew you’d come soon. It was like he knew your body inside and out.

“I know your not holding back on me, are you?” His words vibrate against your cunt making you jolt, thankful his arms held you down so you wouldn’t squirm. Colby was in pure bliss under you, relishing in your sweet taste that so effortlessly painted his tongue. You were wet, your cunt was begging for more even if you were a crying mess above him, like it finally found what it had been longing for.

“I can take it” He chuckles at your attempt at retaliation but still manages to one up you, slipping two of his large, slender fingers inside you. “C-Colby, let me-“

“No” He only uttered one word but it was enough to make you listen like a trained dog, allowing your legs to tremble against his face. You could’ve taken it had you been prepared, but it had been far too long before any guy had done this to you.

“You taste so fucking good, Y/N” His fingers curl against your spongy walls, pushing his tongue against your clit quickly as your moan’s increased. It was so clear you were already on edge, about to let go without it being over five minutes. You find your pride slipping from you in a matter of seconds, begging the man to let you come as your fingers tug his hair. You couldn’t hold on, your legs were far too weak.

“Please, please—Colby, please” His ears are perking as you moan his name, begging for him, moaning for him. Normally, he’d take his time with you but now? He needed to release all that tension between the two of you from years ago, he knew he couldn’t last much longer. He needed to be inside of you, and for that exact reason is why he only sped up under you. “G-gonna come..!”

Your mind tried to come up with some sort of reason as to how you got yourself here, How you got your best friend between your legs, and definitely how you were about to fully submit yourself to this boy while your true feelings for each other were unknown. He was thinking the same thing; how did he get so lucky to have you above him?

“Let go for me, Pretty girl” In only seconds, you’re coming undone above him, legs almost falling weak as they shook from your release, sending shivers throughout your entire body. Colby’s still torturing your body, pumping his fingers into you at a faster pace. It was clear, he was trying to kill you.

“Colby!” You cry, gripping his hair with a begging tone. You couldn’t take it much longer. You had to push him away. Finally, after what felt like forever, he removed his tongue from you, letting his fingers slip from inside you. His strong arms are the only thing that held your legs still, and you could see your release painted on his chin once he looked up at you. “Holy shit” You curse under your breath, chest heaving as he stood to his feet. You look at the large man above you, noticing once again how he towers over you.

He bites his lip, admiring your perfect body that had been on almost full display for him. He leans down when you notice how hard he is, lifting your chin with the hand he hadn’t used on you.

You watch through your eyelashes as he sucks his finger clean from your release, biting his lip with a silent chuckle at how lovingly you looked at him. You grab his hand, pulling it closer to you until his other finger was pressed against your lips—to which you copied his action from before, staring into his dark eyes as you did.

“Good girl” He knew you liked that. It was so obvious—the way your legs clench together at his praise. He pulls his hand away and moves it to your neck, pressing a soft but sloppy kiss to your lips. You could taste yourself from him, and God… it was so fucking hot.

Your hand feels his body effortlessly until you reach his aching print, a small smile pulling at your lips against him.

“Let me” You mumble breathlessly, placing your hand over his cock. You could feel how desperate he had been for you, how badly he wanted you in that moment. His hand wraps around your throat firmly, pulling your lips to crash back into his own. He was so rough and impatient—you loved it.

“I need you. Right here, Right now” His voice is deep and makes your skin shiver, the way his hands touch you so delicately but with control. His room was slightly dark, only lit by the strip of LED’s above his bed frame.

“I want to be yours, Colby. Make me yours, please” Your words make his and your own stomach twist into knots, he almost felt bad. He waited so long to make the move, afraid he misread the signs, but he’d never admit that. You allow your hands to travel down his bare abs, feeling every chisel between the pads of your fingertips. When you reach his belt, you’re quick to help him tug his pants off, watching him with the most admiration.

“After we do this, everything will change” He looks at you once more, both of your hands laid on the waistband of his underwear. You lay your free hand on the side of his neck and use the other to touch him lower—right where he wanted you the entire time.

His breath shutters at your bare touch, something he’s wanted for so long was finally right in front of him. You were all he wanted and he prayed you ensue him just as much.

“I love you, Colby. There’s no change in that” You tell him truthfully, watching his eyes soften just before you pulled his face down to kiss his lips. Except this kiss had much more

meaning—the kiss after you’d admit your feelings for one another.

He leans you down, closing you between his large body and his bed, your hand is still pressed into his print, but he’s already slipping his underwear off by the time you can notice.

Fuck. He was going to ruin you.

Your hands cup his face when his tip presses against your entrance, slick coating it by the second. You wanted him for so long, you didn’t care if it hurt at first.

You just wanted him.

From the moment he pushed inside of you, the only feeling you could endure was love. He was slow, gentle to help you get used to his size. The boy peppers kisses to your neck as he pushed further, comforting your slightly pained moans that slip from your lips without warning.

“Mmm” You let out a soft moan once his tip is past your entrance, the hard part was now over. You look at him with your lips parted, brushing your thumb over his bottom lip. He pushes your hair out of your face before kissing you, and you weren’t prepared for when he pushed into you fully with one snap of his hips.

Your toes curled and your nails dug into his skin desperately, the feeling was almost indescribable. You just felt… full.

“Oh my god” You moan against his lips, throwing your head back as he strokes you slowly, massaging your thigh. You looked so perfect like this, so pretty in this light. Your body was almost bare for him, and your body was welcoming him with open arms—he couldn’t get enough of you. “Colbs…Colby” one of your hands release his shoulder to grip the sheet underneath you, teeth catching your bottom lip between them.

“Starting to feel good?” He hums while you nod, moving his head down to your neck, placing sloppy kisses against it. His hips find a steady pace at first and gradually work their way up, starting deep, then fast to your skin. “God, you feel so good” one of his hands travels up your body until it reaches the shirt covering your upper half, just wanting to rip in off of you.

“Take it off, baby” Your breathless words are too late when he’s already slipping it off your now fully bare body, completely discarding it to the floor next to him. Jesus, you were so perfect.

“You are so beautiful, Y/N” He presses a kiss to your lips before moving down your body, trailing his wet tongue down until he reached your nipple. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, the curves of your body… you were practically made for him. A shuddered moan escapes your lips when he swirls his tongue around your hardened nipple, kneading the other with his free hand.

“Mmm!” Between the stokes of his hips and the sensations he brought to your skin, you couldn’t hold much in. You were sure you were being too loud but the two of you didn’t care. It was just you and him, nobody else.

His strong arms capture your thighs, pulling one of your legs to rest against his shoulder. “Colby! I can’t… oh my gosh” Your little voice is projecting off the walls of the empty room but you don’t care, only worried about the boy above you. Your head was still slightly spinning from the drinks you endured earlier that night and it only mixed with your horny mess of a body, begging Colby for more. “It’s so good… fuck! You’re so fucking good!”

“Look at you. Such a fucking mess under me. You needed me just as much as I needed you” He grabs the back of your head, pulling you up slightly so you were at an angle you couldn’t look away from him. His big eyes were burning holes into your own, hips rutting into you like he had something to prove.

Which he did.

“Gonna come…! Colby, I’m gonna come!” Your a whining mess under him and he loves every second of it, pushing his hips into you faster then before. Your small body was like a toy in his hand and you were at his every command, doing everything he said.

“Come for me. Want you to scream my name so the whole neighborhood knows who’s fucking you this good—so ever man knows your mine” You knew it was a bad idea but who were you to decline that request? You were already screaming as it was. “My dirty girl, Your so fucking hot like this”

“I’m coming! I’m—oh my god I-“ Your voice is cut off by your loud moan, leg shuttering against his shoulder as you felt your release threatening to push over. His tip was kissing your cervix repeatedly, and you knew you couldn’t last much longer. “Colby…!” You cry out, pressing your hand to his chest as if that was going to do anything. Your orgasm finally tipped, and you felt it hit you like a truck.

“That’s it, Baby. Good girl” His thumb rubs circles against your clit as he ruts into your harder, watching your liquid spurt from between the two of you. “My god, Y/N. So fucking good for me”

“Colby… please—Jesus-“

“You can whine all you want, but your body is calling mine for more. You want more” You grip his large arms until your knuckles turn white, scratching along his tanned skin. You curse at him, not wanting to hear his teasing any longer. “Fuck me? I’m only giving you what you want” You look at him with an angry look for a second before completely switching, a smirk pulling at your lips. Jesus, you were nasty, huh?

He pulls out of you all at once making you whine, not able to protest before he’s already flipping you over onto your stomach and pushing your ass in the air. You giggle, stretching your arms in front of you as you arch your back against him, begging him to forgive you. “I was only joking, Pretty boy” You hum, looking back at his face.

He doesn’t say anything and grabs your hips roughly, pulling you back onto his length that so easily slipped inside of you. Your eyes roll back almost instantly as he bottoms you out, pushing his cock as deep as he could reach inside you. “This is what you wanted? Then fucking take it” He growls against your ear, slamming himself into your harder than he had been before. You couldn’t even think straight, you were already so fucked out you didn’t even remember what it felt like to not be fucked.

“fuck! Right there! Please, Colby—fuck me right there!” Your begging voice is music to his ears, your hands gripping the ground under you as he pushed himself against you. “You’re so deep… so fucking good to me, baby” He hums, leaning against your body so you were entirely pressing against him, his tongue running along your skin. Once again, you could feel his sloppy kisses against your shoulder and your neck.

“Nobody can fuck you like I can, Pretty girl. Your mine. You’re all fucking mine, you hear me?” You cry out a yes, the sound of your skin slapping against each others being the only thing that could be heard. “That’s it, just like that, my love” He praises against your ear, holding your hips to press into his.

“Colby, I’m gonna come… oh my god” You whine into the sheet, feeling the pressure building up fast inside you. He’s a grunting mess above you so you knew he was close as well, he was only holding out for you. “Come with me. Please, don’t hold out on me”

The snap of his hips slow down the closer he gets, and now your body is flush against his own, rocking back and forth to his pace with his face buried in your neck.

“I fucking love you, Y/N. My girl, come for me and only me, yeah?” You moan at his words, throwing your head back against his chest as his fingers circle your sensitive clit. you couldn’t hold it anymore, and neither could he. “I’m right behind you”

Drunk sex always felt way too good but usually it was faster and much sweatier, this felt far too different. Even if your hips moved fast against his, it still felt like everything had been in slow motion. The way his hands held your delicate body in his embrace as he thrust his hips up to meet your own, how his lips parted in anticipation to kiss yours, Colby was so hungry for you—his body, was hungry for you.

“Colby… Colby!” His name rolls off your tongue in a beautiful moan. You can feel his slight hesitance but the eyes you give him are enough to tell him exactly what you wanted. You wanted all of him, just as you said.

“Fuck…!” He curses under his breath, your moans filling his ears as you clenched down onto him. He continues to coach you to it, and with one last snap of his hips and circle to your clit, you felt your body release it’s everything onto his. He shushes your loud scream while silencing his own grunts, fingers digging into your hips to pull you close, painting your gummy walls with his white, hot release.

For awhile, All that was heard was your heavy breathing and the sounds of the tv in the other room, and you soon found yourself collapsed next to each other on the bed. Your chests were heaving horribly, and the sweat that drip from your foreheads were now everywhere. You look over at the boy next to you, only to find he had already been looking at you, both of you breathing heavy—lips parted.

It only took a second for one of you to start laughing, and Colby leaned over to kiss you again, this time staying there for the longest he could.

You hum as he pulls away just a tiny bit, still close to your face. Your eyes are shut, relishing in the feeling you had. How do you go on from this? Clearly you two loved each other, but you prayed it wouldn’t be weird…

“Come here” He lays his arm out, pulling your body closer to his so you could lay your head against his chest. The room was hot and smelled of pure sex but neither of you complained. You were just happy.

“Colby…” You mumble after awhile in silence, tracing the tattoo on his chest for the 2nd time. He hums in response, the tips of his fingers brushing through your soft hair. You almost feel bad, as if you’re about to ruin the amazing night you had—but you had to say it. “Where do we go from here..?”

Your voice is low and nervous, so focused on the negative that you couldn’t even see the obvious answer. Colby made it clear what he wanted. He couldn’t go back to normal with you—not after this night.

“I want you to be my girlfriend, Y/N. I’ve always wanted that” He pushes your hair away from your face, placing his finger under your chin to lift it. “Please tell me that’s what you want too”

Your eyes soften at his hesitant tone, grabbing the hand that sat under your chin to intertwine your fingers. Of course you wanted that. It was all you ever wanted.

You nod

“Sam is going to be so happy”

Just a little something different 😉. See y’all whenever :))

[a-leg-without-fear]

Flooded Red (pt.1)🩸🌧️

some lore for the reader character!! this takes place during the raid on the mansion in X2: X-Men United. please enjoy some Gore and some BAMF reader :)

Ship: Logan Howlett x Mutant!Fem!Reader

Rating: 16+

Wordcount: 4.7k

Warnings: gore, violence, Carrie-levels of blood, mentions of child abuse/abandonment, child endangerment, mentions of experimentation, depressive thoughts, drugging, choking, mentions of serious illness

Series: Flooded Red

You were no stranger to nightmares. Whether they were your own, making you toss and turn and wake up feeling exhausted, or Logan’s, leaving him shaking and panting. Yours were more infrequent than his. Every other night or so, your dreams were edged with that toxic darkness compared to his nightly torment. Anxiety-fuelled imagery that made your heart pump and your skin sweaty.

Tonight, it seemed, was your turn on the nightmare-express. Flashes of your life before joining Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters pierced your mind like a hot poker. Your father dying of polio, your mother abandoning you when your mutation showed itself, you begging for food on the side of the road for twenty years. 

In particular, one evening in the ‘50s decided to plague you. 

You, a 54-year old who appeared to still be twelve, were hunkered down in the abandoned building you called home. It was raining, humid summer air leaking in through the boarded up windows. Mildew spots covered the aged wallpaper. A distinct, old-house smell permeated the aged floorboards. 

You sat on your collection of moth-eaten blankets. An array of warm reds and cool blues created a cushy, makeshift bed that you spent your nights in. Pale orange filtered in from the streetlamps outside the abandoned house. You had tried your best to block out light by sticking newspapers to what windows weren’t covered by pine boards.

A group of men stood in front of you. Varying heights and weights. One had darker skin and cropped black hair, another had a neck tattoo and a cleft lip. Those two stood at the front of the pack of five. All wearing dark clothes and brandishing various household items as weapons. Steel pipes, wrenches, tire irons.

“You guys really don’t want to do this,” you squeaked out. You silently cursed your prepubescent voice. The man with the tattoo scoffed, squinted eyes peering around where you sat.

“And what’re you gonna do, pipsqueak?” he sneered. He smacked his palm with the pipe in his hands. The others moved to form a line next to him, blocking you from any exits.

“You’re not gonna like it,” you muttered under your breath. The man on the far right, blonde-haired and green-eyed, chuckled at you.

“You are the least threatening girl I-”

His words were cut short, breath caught in his throat. Your head was tilted as you focused. Dark eyes flooded red, blood overtaking the white, as your left arm raised toward the group.

Rough gurgles echoed from each man’s chest. Eyes wide with fear, skin flushing, lungs filled with liquid. Your lips spread into a knowing grin.

With one flick of your fingers, you made the men’s blood reach its boiling point. Explosions of crimson ichor burst from the five men. Skin split and flowered around large wounds. Bones cracked, limbs twitching and flailing.

One by one, each man fell to the ground. Bodies turned to sacks of flesh and organs. Blood seeped from the empty carcasses into the wooden floorboards.

Your smile remained stretched across your face. You hadn’t moved from your pile of blankets. Left arm covered to the elbow in blood, rest of your body clean, eyes returning to their normal ruby shade.

A piercing, world-shattering scream broke you from the shackles of your nightmare. You darted up, chest heaving, hands covering your ears to shield yourself from the noise. Glancing briefly at your own body, you were met with your adult self. Your wide eyes looked up and darted around your room.

The left side of your bed was empty. Sheets bunched up by your knees, pillow ruffled. Results of Logan sharing your bed. Yet the grouch was nowhere to be seen. You looked up to the door hoping to see him standing there.

Instead, your eyes landed on three heavily armed men. Covered in kevlar, bullet-proof vests, thick helmets. Each one having several guns attached at various points on their bodies. They were hunched over, hands over their ears, occasional grunts coming from beneath black, cloth masks.

Ignoring the scream that jabbed your eardrums when you lowered your hands, you scrambled out of bed. Your socked feet slid slightly on the hardwood floors as you dashed to the doorway. 

Just as suddenly as it had begun, the screaming stopped. You shook your head and blinked a few times. You took the chance you saw before you while the armed men reoriented.

A sharp jab to the front man’s jaw, his head ricocheting back, and a swift kick to his stomach sent him careening back between the other two. You couldn’t stop to check if he was out yet. You swiveled on your backfoot to the man on the right. Grabbing the sides of his helmet, you yanked his head down and connected his eye socket with your knee. You punched him in the temple for good measure as he fell to the floor.

The last man raised his machine gun to your torso. You paused briefly, eyeing the man up and down, then dropped to your knees as gunshots ringed over your head. You lunged forward at the man’s legs and knocked him to the ground. A strong kick to the face and he was out.

Breathing heavily, you clambered to your feet. Your gaze landed on the wooden door behind you. You expected to see bullet holes and splintered shrapnel. Instead, three small, white darts were embedded in the wood grain. You plucked one from the door to inspect it.

Right when the dart was lifted to your face, thick arms wrapped around your neck. Kevlar vest met your t-shirt clad back as the man who you’d failed to check choked you. Your breath came out ragged and strained. You tried to stomp back on the man’s feet, but he just stepped out of the way. Your vision was growing blurry around the edges.

“Stupid fucking mutant,” the man huffed in your ear, every word laced with malice and hate.

In a last ditch attempt, you took the dart still clutched in your fingers and stabbed it into the man’s arm. A string of pained curses left the man’s mouth as he released you. You stumbled forward, chest heaving to recover lost air, as you pivoted to face your attacker.

The man blindly grabbed at the dart in his forearm. He stumbled back, body connecting with the wall behind him, then started sinking to the floor. His head lolled to the side.

Huh, tranquilizers, you thought.

You hardly had time to assess your situation as you heard scuffling down the hall. Dozens of thick boots stepping quietly across the hardwood floor. When you listened closer, you heard the clatter of guns in gloved hands.

An involuntary growl left your chest. These men were here for the kids. Your kids. The kids you’ve helped teach and care for and raise. Flashes of fiery anger licked up your chest. You knelt and tore one of the machine guns filled with darts away from the unconscious men.

You kept low to the ground as you peered out of your bedroom doorway. A larger group of kevlar-clad men, about eight strong, were walking away from your room and toward the edge of the mansion. You nestled the stock in your shoulder and aimed at the group.

Muffled, quick shots echoed from the rifle as you shot at the men, each bundle of three darts connecting with a limb. Helmets clattered on the floor as the men collapsed. They had no time to register where the shots were coming from before they laid in an unconscious heap on the floor.

You threw the empty gun to the floor as you stood. You hated guns. Hated what they represented, the violence they caused, the people who wielded them. It was a very rare circumstance that placed a gun in your hands.

A chorus of children’s screams came from the hallway behind you. Terrified, heart-wrenching, utterly fearful. Pure, unbridled rage tugged at your chest. You could feel red coat the edges of your eyes. Blood seeping into the whites to make you look like some kind of demon.

You turned and walked briskly down the hall. Hands clenched in fists at your sides, pulse beating rapidly beneath your skin, eyes clouded in a flaming scarlet.

When you approached the next group of men, this group being six strong and standing outside Ryan and Addie’s room, your mind seemed to click off. All you could see was red, all you could hear was your own pulse in your ears, all you could taste was fresh blood coating your tongue. 

Your body wasn’t your own. Fingers twisted and manipulated the pumping blood beneath the men’s skin. Bubbling and boiling the flowing ichor until each man froze where they stood. Twitching and shaking, eyes crying scarlet and mouths leaking red. Another flick of your fingers and they exploded into clouds of steamed blood. Crimson coated your entire body, leaving you drenched in the men’s remains.

Six men. Turned into empty skins and abandoned organs. Blood seeping into the hardwood floor. Dead.

Your vision came back to you. Gasping breaths left your throat in short bursts. Warm liquid beaded on the sides of your face and dripped down your skin. Your clothes were utterly drenched, your hair plastered to your scalp, feet submerged in a puddle of red.

It had been so long since you’d lashed out like that. Mind going blank and fingers acting of their own accord. Since that night in the abandoned house, you’d kept your wits about you. Always resorting to hand-to-hand or to weapons if the need presented itself. You never used your mutation if you could help it.

You felt ashamed. These six men were just doing as they were told. They were only following orders. No one, not even the worst humans, deserved to die like that.

Before the panic could grip you in a chokehold, another group of booted footsteps came from down the hall. A small voice echoed in the back of your mind. The kids. Protect the kids. Whatever it takes. How could you refuse, when the children were your life? Your reason for being?

You splashed through the puddles of blood as you moved down the hall. Eyes flooded red, fingers twitching at your sides, anger gripping your chest in a vice. You weren’t yourself anymore. You weren’t the art teacher the children loved, the friend that the X-Men laughed with, or the lover Logan had grown to know.

All you were was a burning, churning whirlpool of fiery hate. Flames licked at your lungs, filling each breath with fire. Swirling images of corpses at your feet filled your stomach to the brim.

“There’s another one! Wait… holy shit!” yelled out from in front of you. You cocked your head as you observed this new group of men.

Ten strong, all clad in kevlar and vests, all pointing their rifles loaded with tranquilizer darts at you. You could see a shake in their hands as they took in the sight of you. Eyes flooded red, blood seeping through your hair and into your clothes, feet tracking crimson in their wake. If there was a physical embodiment of Carrie, you fit the bill.

“D-Don’t move!” called the trembling voice again. Guns clicked in gloved hands as the safeties were switched off. You could see every hand had a finger resting on a trigger.

Your right hand twitched, fingers curling, as a manic grin overtook your stoney expression. These men, these infiltrators, were giving you commands? Were demanding you stand down as they took your children away? These puny, insignificant men were instructing someone with the power to kill them in a single motion? The thought made you laugh under your breath.

“Or what?” you said back. Red dots centered on your chest as every man aimed at you. Another chuckle flitted through your lips, “Good luck with that.”

Dozens of gunshots ringed out through the hallway as dart after dart embedded in your chest. Clusters of white needles protruded from your blood stained shirt. You glanced down at the intrusions to your bloodstream. A tired edge overtook your mind as the tranquilizers pumped their chemicals into you. 

You gripped the darts and ripped them from your chest. A cacophony of clatters bounced back to the men as the darts fell to the floor. You shook your head to rid yourself of the chemicals threatening to knock you out. 

“Wanna try that again?” you asked, every word dripping in sarcastic confidence. 

Before the men could reload and obey your request, you raised your left hand to the group. Your senses focused on the blood pumping through their scared little hearts. Cortisol coursed through each man’s veins. Pathetic.

A twitch of your fingers made their hearts careen to a stop. Blood froze in their veins, oxygen being deprived from their lungs, eyes widening and limp hands clutching at their throats. It only took a few moments for them to collapse to the floor.

You breathed a humorless laugh at the mess of corpses in front of you. Who did they think they were, to challenge you like that? Especially after they saw that their darts didn’t work. You tilted your head side to side as you stretched out your neck.

“Vampire?” a small voice said from behind you. You turned to the source, fingers twitching in preparation. Whoever this new threat was, you’d deal with it quickly.

Regret filled your stomach like a lead ball when your eyes landed on Addie and Ryan. They stood, hand in shaking hand, feet soaking in the puddles of blood, wide eyes looking up at you. Your breath left your lungs in one sharp gust.

“Are you okay?” Addie asked, being the one who’d said your nickname before. She tucked a strand of platinum blonde hair behind her ear. You sank to your knees before the siblings.

“I… Yeah, I’m okay,” you sighed. You squeezed your eyes shut, clearing your head of the hatred it was filled with. When you opened them again, Ryan stood before you. His blue eyes looked you over with a deep concern crinkling in the corners.

“You sure? You’re pretty bloody,” he said. You wiped at the blood covering your face. It was no use, your hands being equally drenched.

“Is it your blood?” Addie questioned from behind her brother. You shook your head.

“No. No, it’s not. Are you guys okay?” you asked, desperate to shift the attention from yourself. Both children nodded. You gave them both a once over. Their hair was ruffled from sleep, hems of their pajamas and white socks soaked in the blood covering the floor, wide eyes looking to you for reassurance. You cleared your throat, “Did those guys hit you with anything?”

Both siblings shook their heads. You breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Alright. Let’s get you to the passageway on this floor. Ryan, You’ll be right behind me. Protect your sister,” you instructed. The kids nodded their heads again. You stood before them, giving yourself a look up and down. 

You looked horrifying. Once white t-shirt and green shorts were drenched in thick blood. Your hair clung to the sides of your head. Rivulets of crimson leaked down your bare legs and arms. 

Yet, when your gaze met the kids’, they looked at you with nothing but adoration. How could they look up to someone as terrifying as you? Someone who just killed sixteen fucking people? What would that teach them?

You squared your shoulders, pushing your insecurities down as far as they could go, and started leading the kids back down the hall. Your knees were bent as you kept low to the floor. You would pause every few moments to listen to the mansion around you. More gunshots from the floor below you, screams of terrified children, grunts and yells from the men in kevlar. You kept your mind from wandering to that rage and continued to lead Addie and Ryan to safety.

Relief flooded your lungs when you saw a group of children, led by Piotr, standing by this floor’s escape passageway. You straightened your posture. Addie and Ryan ran ahead of you to reconnect with their classmates.

“How many do you have?” you called over the swarm of scared children. Piotr, an older student whose skin could turn to metal, looked up at you from directing kids through the narrow doorway. His eyes widened at the state of you.

“Uh… Twelve, I think,” he replied. He ushered Addie and Ryan through the door, then turned to you, “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you said through gritted teeth. Your shoulders seized when you heard heavy boots across the hall from you. Piotr looked over his shoulder, having also heard the approach.

Logan turned the corner. White tank top bunched around his midriff, jeans torn around his thighs, dark hair mussed from its two points. He held a knocked-out Jones, a young brunet who could manipulate electrical frequencies, in his arms. His hazel eyes glanced at you then fixed on Piotr.

“Hey, take him. He’s stunned,” Logan said, handing Jones over to Piotr. The larger boy held Jones tight against his chest. 

Just as Logan was turning to you, Piotr called out, “I can help you!” Logan looked back at Piotr. He pointed down the passageway, then said, “Help them.”

Piotr nodded at Logan, ducking into the doorway and sealing the passageway behind him. Logan suddenly grabbed your shoulders in both of his hands. You met his frantic eyes, narrowed lids shadowed by his furrowed brow.

“What the hell happened to you? Why are you covered in blood?” he asked. 

“I’m fine, Lo. It’s not my blood,” you said, shrugging his hands off your shoulders. His indignant reply was cut off when you both heard movement around the corner. 

Logan shoved you behind him as you both approached the corner. He pushed on your shoulder so you could squat next to him. His sturdy arm held you against the wall at your backs.

“Stay here,” he breathed into your ear. You nodded once in acknowledgement. Logan nodded back, then turned his attention back to the approaching group. 

You focused on lifting the blood from your shirt. Beads of crimson drifted away from your body and floated in the air before you. Your fingers twitched and the beads crashed into each other. Blood cell on top of blood cell, stacking together and forming a sharp lance the length of your forearm. One last flick of your wrist and the iron in the blood hardened the lance. A solid, red, metal weapon fell out of the air and into your open palm. At least you were significantly less bloody now.

Logan watched you out of the corners of his eyes. An air of admiration crossed his face. 

The brief moment was interrupted as a combat boot landed by Logan’s knees. Logan’s chest rumbled a deep growl, his claws shinking out of his knuckles, as he lunged forward and stabbed his right claws through the toe of the boot. A pained cry fell from the kevlar wearing man. Logan leapt to his feet as he plunged his left hand into the man’s stomach, shoving them both around the corner and out of your sight.

You remained crouched, back leaning against the wooden wall. Loud pops of gunfire echoed around you. Real guns, loaded with bullets instead of darts. Sharp cracks pierced the air as bullets flew in rapid succession toward Logan. A few bullet casings landed, smoking, by your feet. 

Light beamed from the dropped flashlight that rolled into view. Spurts of blood coated the tool in red jets. You spun the lance a few times in your hands, waiting.

“Clear,” Logan called. You pushed yourself upright and rounded the corner. About a dozen men, all clad in the same dark kevlar, lay dead at Logan’s feet. His chest was heaving, eyes darting to and from each man’s face, fists still clenched with claws poking out between his knuckles.

“All good, Lo?” you asked. His claws fully retracted as he met your gaze. He gave you a sharp nod then turned on his heel. You picked your way through the bodies, accidentally kicking a few limbs here and there, as you followed after him. 

“You never answered my question,” Logan said. You caught up with him and met his fast pace down the hallway. The two of you jogged while you tried to ignore his question. A few moments passed, the clipping of Logan’s boots on the floor being the only noise between you.

“I snapped,” was your quiet response. Short, simple, to the point. And it was all Logan needed. He threw you another quick nod while you two approached the balcony overlooking the mansion’s foyer.

Bright lights shone on Rogue, Bobby, and John as they stood below the balcony. All in their sleep clothes, all looking absolutely terrified. A guttural yell came from Logan as he leapt over the railing and dived into the four men aiming rifles at the older students.

You were about to follow when the back of your head was grabbed, a rough hand shoving your face into the railing and knocking your forehead on the wood. Spiked pain shot through your head, your knees crumpling beneath you. The hand tangled in your hair remained.

“Got the bloody one,” the man gripping you called behind him. You scratched at his hand as you tried to free yourself.

Slicing claws through flesh and pained yells soared over the balcony from the floor below. Your dazed mind tried to comprehend what was happening around you.

Some of the kevlar-clad men stood around you. Five, or was it seven, surrounded you with the muzzles of their guns aimed at your woozy form. Your head was utterly spinning. Nausea flooded your stomach and sent you reeling. If it weren’t for the gloved hand in your hair, you’d be sprawled out on the floor.

“Vampire!” Bobby called. You could just barely see his face through the bars of the railing. Wide, blue eyes glanced between you and the men surrounding you. He threw a hand up in your direction, “Duck!”

You didn’t need to be told twice. You yanked your head away from the man above you and dove to the floor. Just as your hands covered the back of your head, a biting chill filled the air above you. Wave after wave of flowing ice coursed over the balcony. You shivered from where you laid on the floor.

“C’mon!” John yelled up at you. You peered at the men who held you captive. All of them were coated in a thick layer of ice, skin turned pale and blue, joints frozen in place. Living ice sculptures. 

You pushed yourself to your feet, ignoring the sway in your motion, as you prepared to vault over the railing. Just as you had swung your leg over the wood banister the front door burst open, streams of LED lights illuminating the four mutants below you.

Logan motioned for you to stay where you were, looking you up and down, then ushered Rogue, Bobby, and John further into the mansion. Dozens of men followed in their wake.

You, not being one to listen to instructions very often, crept along the banister until you reached the stairs. Lucky for you, your socked and soaked feet wouldn’t make much noise on the hardwood. You snuck down the stairs while listening to the kevlar-clad men flood through the front door. When you reached the bottom you paused. Squatted, lance clutched in both hands, waiting for the last of the men to pass.

Once you saw a break in the stream of soldiers, you dashed between shadows while trailing after Logan. Keeping out of sight, ducking beneath flashlight beams, sneaking around corners. 

“You want to shoot me? Shoot me!” you heard Logan yell down the hall from where you were. You picked up the pace. Soaked feet slapping against the wood floors, clubbing soldiers on the head as you passed with the blunt end of your lance to knock them out, racing to try and prevent Logan and the others from getting hurt.

“Don’t shoot him!” a male voice yelled. You slid around the last corner and found a cluster of kevlar-clad men. All with their rifles and flashlights pointed at Logan down the hall. You froze in place, breath held. One of the men stepped forward, a flashlight held aloft in his gunless hands. He moved to stand in the middle of the rest of the men, “Not yet.”

You slipped behind one of the giant vases scattered throughout this hallway. Tucking yourself into the long shadows thrown by the large piece of pottery, your head just barely poked out to watch the scene unfold.

“Wolverine? Well, I must admit, this is certainly the last place I’d expect to find you,” the unarmed man said. He took a few more steps forward. Logan watched his approach, confusion written in his knitted brows. The lone man chuckled, “How long has it been? 15 years? You haven’t changed one bit. Me, on the other hand…” the man trailed off. He stopped a few feet in front of Logan and gestured to his own face, “...nature.”

You didn’t like this. The man in front of Logan gave you a bad feeling. Like shocks of anxiety pricking over your hypersensitive skin. You gripped your lance tighter in your hands.

Logan’s claws retracted back between his knuckles. Narrowed, hazel eyes analyzed the man standing in front of him.

“I didn’t realize Xavier was taking in animals,” the man said with a laugh. He adjusted the glasses sitting on the bridge of his wide nose, “Even animals as unique as you.”

“Who are you?” Logan asked. His hands remained clenched at his sides.

The man laughed again, “Don’t you remember?”

Logan stared at the man, mouth agape. He took a few steps forward.

You’d had enough. This man, whoever he was, wasn’t going to talk Logan into… whatever it is this guy was trying to do.

You darted out from behind the vase, lance brandished in your hands. Your head cocked as you sent the weapon soaring through the air. One of the kevlar-wearing men to your right gasped as the lance speared through his back and exited from the center of his chest. You focused on the lance as it flew from one man to the next. Sailing through the air until it pierced the men’s abdomens and sent them careening to the floor.

Every gun pointed in your direction. Some men holding rifles containing darts, others aiming real guns straight at you. You paused mid-step.

Your gaze met Logan’s. Recognition flashed in his widened eyes. He took another step forward, this time toward you.

Ice crackled on the walls of the hallway. Large snowflakes linked together as they stretched the width of the hallway and formed a wall. The ice solidified, creating a transparent, blue blockade between you and Logan.

“No, no!” Logan yelled from his side of the wall. He pounded desperately on the ice.

The unarmed man turned to face you. He was older, hair graying and beard wiry. Black glasses framed his squinted, blue eyes. You shifted your weight between your feet.

“Hello, my dear. You must be the one called ‘Bleeder,’” he said. Your posture stiffened at the name. You felt your jaw clench.

“I haven’t been called that in a long time,” you replied. God, if it weren’t for the guns pointed at you, you’d have skewered this man ages ago.

“And yet it was your moniker all the same,” the man said. His boots clicked against the hardwood as he approached you. Thick coat covering his torso, gloved hands clutched behind his back. He stopped a few paces in front of you. His hooded eyes passed over your blood-covered form, “I believe I have use of you. Take her.”

The familiar pop of the dart-filled guns rang out as you were peppered with white needles. Dozens and dozens of pinpricks filled your chest. You gasped, falling to one knee. The edges of your mind began to cloud with a foggy haze.

“Vampire!” you distantly heard Logan yell. You felt the floor sway beneath your feet. Your hands planted on the hardwood when you fell forward.

“That’s it. Off to sleep, Bleeder,” the man said above you. You threw him one last hate-filled glare, then collapsed as the tranquilizers overtook your senses.

some looooooooooore for reader!!! hope y'all enjoyed. and what a cliffhanger, huh?

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[stonedstr8]

TOKE 'N STROKE

"Ads are getting so damn invasive." Lucas thought to himself, clicking skip on yet another pointless car commercial interrupting the video essay he was watching. "You think the algorithm would know its audience by now, I'm too gay to drive!"

He laughed a little bit at the joke, running a hand through his soft, bleached blonde hair. He was the epitome of a high-maintenance twink, with his smooth, hairless body and perfect sense of style. He was smart too and liked to boast about it, with a scholarship for his English Lit degree and being made President of his university's LGBT Chapter, which he was hoping to use as a stepping stone to become Student Body President next year.

Leaning back again in his chair he reached for his cellphone, seeing a text from his boyfriend Alex.

Alex: "Hey cutie, still busy with finals this weekend, but have time for a dinner date Sunday night?"

He smiled to himself, giving an eager text back to set it up, and to wish him well on his upcoming exams. "Ugh, I need to start studying too, Monday's going to be one hell of a final... I'll focus on it and head to the library after this video and-"

Just like that, his train of thought was interrupted again by a stupid ad, this time some obnoxious psychedelic visuals and a bad electric guitar riff blared out of his monitor. It startled him so badly that he seized up for a second, accidentally clicking the ad and being brought to their store page. "Broski's Bud's, one stop ship and shop for weed strains to fix your brain..." He rolled his eyes at the cringe marketing, getting ready to close the tab when a pop-up opened trying to tell him all about a deal he 'wouldn't want to miss out on'. "No thanks, stupid site, you can keep your Bro Buds or whatever to yourself." but every time he hit X on the popup another would open, being more and more insistent each time about new deals, until finally a desperate '90% OFF AND SPECIAL STARTER KIT AS A BONUS WITH YOUR FIRST PURCHASE' filled his screen. "FINE," he scoffed at his computer, "I'll take a look at the stupid site. My therapist suggested I try out weed to help lessen my anxiety anyways, so might as well get a good deal on it..."

Clicking the pop-up added the 'starter kit' to his cart, it was a pack of pre-rolled blunts and some sort of mystery box, but the description didn't help him understand it much either. "Get ready to step into the zone and open ur mind with this one bros, Broski's Buds bestselling strain, Toke 'n Stroke, is sure to change your life by stimulating a high never felt before! This isn't your sissy uncle's strain, this shit puts hair on your chest like a real man!"

"God this is so cringe, I bet they get all kinds of business marketing to the dumb jocks in town, no wonder their brains are mush. Still, it's just weed and for $20 I might as well give it a try, I probably won't find it cheaper anywhere else..." sitting in thought about it for a few seconds, Lucas finally filled in his payment info and placed his order, getting a free upgrade to same-day delivery since they seem to have a storefront a few miles from his apartment.

"Well, there goes my library plans I guess, I'll have to wait around for delivery since my package will probably get swiped otherwise..." Lucas sighed, turning off his computer and plopping down onto the couch, picking up his Switch to play Animal Crossing and kill time.

A few hours passed and the sky got dark before finally a long buzz came from his intercom. "Took them long enough, it's nearly 9pm!" he complained, putting his jacket on to head downstairs. When he got down there the delivery guy had already gotten into his car again, driving away and leaving Lucas to carry the package back upstairs all on his own. It was bigger than he expected, taking both hands to lift it and keep it stable. "Jesus, this thing must weight like 40 pounds! What did they put in here?"

After a bit of struggling and the occasional break to catch his breath, Lucas pushed his package into the living room, collapsing on the floor next to it for a while. "After that workout I'm surprised I don't look like the douchebags around campus." he laughed to himself, bouncing up to get a box cutter and pry his package open. After taking the carton of pre-rolled blunts out, he started into the box with a bit of confusion and disgust, pulling things out one after the other.

"A sleeveless tank top that says 'Toke 'n Stroke Bro'... A pair of douchey sunglasses... Some red gym shorts, socks and slides... Ew, a snapback saying 'Who ate all the pussy?', why the fuck would anyone wear this!... And 2 dumbbells, no wonder this thing was so heavy! All of this is useless shit that's gonna end up in a donation bin now, I'll have to drop this trashy stuff off tomorrow on my way to the library... But hey, at least the weed seems fine, smells... potent." He said, tossing everything back into the box and taking a whiff of one of the blunts.

Kicking back on the couch again, he played with the blunt in his hand for a while before finally having the courage to light it up, taking a hit. Immediately he started coughing, not used to the sensation, but it did make his brain start to feel... fuzzy. "Damn, okay I need to push past it and get used to it." he said, lighting up for another hit of the blunt, this time barely a cough escaping his throat, feeling suspiciously more used to it. Then another, and another, until finally the whole blunt was gone. Sitting in his daze for a while, he enjoyed the sensation of his mind drifting around experiencing the high, his anxiety melting away as if he didn't have a care in the world. Eventually he decided to try and get up, but his body slumped over off the couch and hitting the floor, the room fading to black...

...

When Lucas finally came to again, the first thing that hit him was the strong smell of weed floating around in the air. "Damn bro, did I smoke the whole set or what..." he laughed groggily, getting ready to stretch out and get back to laying on the couch before he was startled by the sound of moaning blasting from his TV, eyes shooting open in confusion. On the screen, two busty lesbians were making out, them taking turns groping each others boobs and fingering each other. "What the fuck bro, how long has this been on?" he cursed, nervous that the neighbors nextdoor might have heard it playing as he started desperately looking for the remote.

When he couldn't find it in the cushions, he got up from the couch only to be met with his feet kicking a bunch of empty beer cans. "Dude, there's gotta be 2 dozen thrown all over the floor, did I have a party or something? I don't even know anyone who drinks beer..." he mumbled, going to scratch his head in confusion, but was even more confused when instead of his hair he felt a hat on top of his head. "Huh?" he thought, as he looked down at the floor again, noticing that instead of his skinny jeans and converse he was now wearing the socks and slides from the box, along with the sleeveless tank top and the shorts too. He stumbled his way to the bathroom door still baked out of his mind, mouth dropping open at his reflection in the full-length mirror in front of him.

"Broooo, am I dreaming or what the fuckkkk is going on" he said in disbelief. No more was the cute, pale twink he used to be staring back at him. Instead, a douchey bro he didn't recognize was standing face to face with him. Tanned skin, pillowy muscles, his once blonde hair turned into a brown buzz cut and with that stupid "Who ate all the pussy?" hat slapped over it. He touched his face, feeling along his chin where his once smooth skin now had a rougher texture, and a trashy chinstrap sprouted from his jawline. He slapped his face a few times in his daze, trying to wake up from the dream and growing more confused each time nothing changed.

Turning around and staggering back to his living room to try and make sense of what's going on, it hit him that he barely recognizes the room anymore. His apartment used to be perfectly maintained and well-decorated, now there was beer cans all over the floor, along with dirty socks and cummed-in underwear, greasy pizza boxes and chip bags all over the table and counter, the decorations on his walls had been torn down and replaced with posters of chicks in bikinis and sports teams, his Switch replaced with an X-Box and a stack of COD games next to it, DVD cases of trashy bro-comedies were thrown around near the TV too... Then the smell hit him, it STUNK in here, like a sickening mixture of weed, cheap body spray, and sour BO wafting in a heat around the room. "Bro, it fucking reeks in here... Or wait..." he mumbled as he gave himself a whiff, "I fucking reek!"

After a bit of stunned silence he finally started to process things in his brain again. How the fuck did he get like this, was any of this even real, and how does he get back to normal? He plopped back onto the couch, picking up his phone to see he had a handful of missed texts and calls from his boyfriend before noticing the time... 2:00pm. On Sunday. He had somehow been blacked out for 2 whole nights, with no memory of anything that had happened. While getting ready to call his boyfriend back, Lucas felt his insides rumbling and at first he thought it was from the munchies because of all the weed, but then he realized "Oh bro, all that double-cheese pizza is really gonna fucking..."

*PHRRRBBBTTT!*

His body instinctively lifted its leg as it pushed out the loudest and most obnoxious fart he'd ever ripped in his life, as his body seemed to react on its own, letting out an immature laugh and wafting the air before muttering "Fuck yeah bro, smells like victory!" He leaned back into the couch, remembering he needed to call Alex, but the loud moaning on the TV caught him off guard again. This time he locked eyes with the screen, the cock in his shorts immediately bulging and straining at the sight of the lesbian porn before him. "I really need to turn this shit off and get whatever's going on sorted out..." he thought, but he realized he couldn't move his hand to reach for his phone, instead it reacted on its own, reaching down his waistband to pull out his cock and start stroking for the busty babes on TV.

"All I do is Toke 'n Stroke, bro..." a voice in his head seemed to say, except it didn't come from within, he spoke it directly out of his own mouth.

"Wait, I didn't say that bro, it's-" he tried to talk, realizing that his thoughts echoed around stuck in his own head, not even leaving the lips of his own body. He was just stuck there, watching in a dazed horror as he went on autopilot.

"Toke 'n Stroke bro, I'm such a loyal customer Broski's Buds will HAVE to take me as a hype boy this time haha!" his voice spoke again, continuing to stroke for the porn on TV, Lucas's eyes stuck fixed on the screen. Suddenly though, he was interrupted by his phone vibrating, a text from his boyfriend coming through.

Alex: "Hey cutie, I hope everything is alright? You haven't answered my calls or texts in a couple days, I know it's busy with all your studying but we do still have dinner planned for tonight. Still on for me to pick you up at 5?"

"Oh thank God," Lucas thought, reading the message, "I can tell him what's going on and have him come over to help me fix this shit!" Unlocking his phone, Lucas let out a sigh of relief as he got ready to reply, only for his body to still be taken over by whatever douchey daze it was stuck in.

Lucas: "dont u ever come around me u faggy creep, if me or my bros ever catch u within 100 feet of us we'll give u the beating of a lifetime! fuck around n find out if u dare to show ur face here."

Lucas screamed internally as the message was typed out and sent in front of his very eyes, before his hand moved to block his boyfriend's number and turn his phone off. "Something is seriously fucking wrong with me bro, I need to-"

*PHHRRRRBBBTTTTTT*

Another obnoxious and sickening fart blasted out of his ass, filling the room and breaking Lucas's thoughts down into a daze again, as he felt around under the couch for something before pulling a sweaty, well-used fuck toy of a girls ass and pussy up from the mess.

As Lucas once again locked eyes with the TV, he took another hit from his dwindling blunt stash, finishing up the last one. After throwing what was left onto the floor, he prepared the fuck toy and slid it right down onto his cock, starting to bounce the toy up and down as he edged himself closer to finishing.

"If I can't figure out a way to snap out of this, I'm so fucked..." he thought, as his voice spoke again. "Toke 'n Stroke bro, this chick is soooo getting fucked!" He moaned, as he shot his thick load into the toy, feeling some of his braincells permanently shoot out with it, sloppily wiping the mess on the cushion next to him as he laid back, feeling his insides start to bubble again.

Lucas had a lot of Bro Time to catch up on, but luckily his new favorite weed strain was making sure that he was a captive audience until he was fully converted and assimilated into just another Bro.

[bbydoll18xx]

I'll Be Your Temporary Fix (Pt 3)

Paige Bueckers x Media Team Reader

Read parts 1 and 2 here: Part 1 Part 2

Part 3 based on this request: 

Could you do a Paige x media team reader. Where Paige and reader are fake dating because Azzi is uncomfortable with the fans shipping her and Paige. Reader does it cus she owes Paige a favor (you can make something up).

Word Count: 1.9k

Hey everyone! Due to popular demand, here is part 3! This part is more angsty and is heavily inspired by my personal anthem 'The Bolter' by Taylor Swift (she really is my muse these days lol)

I hope you enjoy!

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

You wake up the next morning with sunlight streaming through the windows and a warm blonde cuddled into your neck. Paige is close, so close to you, and you can feel the tangled mess of the both of your legs underneath the blankets. 

It feels a little too perfect, and before you can begin to enjoy Paige’s sleepy affection, a wave of anxiety washes over you. It envelops you; a dark hood pulled over your head and blinding you from seeing the light that was Paige. 

Your chest begins to rise and fall in staccato breaths, and your labored breathing causes Paige to stir. She sleepily looks at you with a small smile. You had always loved the way she looked in the morning; her hair splayed over the pillows and her warmth beckoning to you, threatening to keep you in bed forever. 

Her voice is still husky with sleep, and it rouses you from your slumberous contemplations. “Mornin’ baby.” 

Hiding your blush in the soft blankets, you reply back shyly, “Hi, P.” Her gaze is heated, and it makes every nerve light up with warning signs. The whole situation was paradoxical, and you found yourself wanting to swim in her presence and run for the hills, simultaneously. 

Fighting the urge to jump from the bed and leave without turning back, you snuggle back into Paige’s arms, eliciting content moans from the both of you. 

You stay like that for a while, until a loud grumble from Paige’s stomach cuts through the silence, causing you both to giggle. 

You stumble out of Paige’s bed, reluctant to leave the cocoon of safety and warmth, in search of breakfast. You both sit at the small kitchen table with bagels in front of you, slightly overlooked in favor of your phones. You are scrolling Twitter, while Paige is on tiktok, and you periodically show each other if you see something particularly funny. The public is going wild over your little display at the bar last night. There are already edits galore, and it fucking terrifies you. 

Paige’s eyes are glued to the screen of her phone, and her stony face gives you no glimpse of what she is actually thinking. Until you see her bite her bottom lip, and she darts her tongue out to swipe across it. It brings some blood to your cheeks, and your head feels fuzzy. 12 hours ago you were the one sinking your teeth into the pillowy flesh of her bottom lip, and here you sat across from her, wondering if you’d ever be able to again. 

The questions in your mind have you wanting to bound away once more, and you grip the edge of the table in a feeble attempt at grounding yourself back to reality. You didn't think you’d ever even have a chance to be anything more than friends with Paige. And here you were eating breakfast with her after kissing her and cuddling in her bed. 

You were so fucked. 

You replay the last few days in your head once more. You knew this whole thing was such a bad idea, but you really could not help yourself. Clearly, or you wouldn’t be sitting across from Paige right now.

Trying to pacify your bubbling panic, you ask to see Paige’s phone, wanting to see what the fuss was about. She smirks as she hands it to you, fingers brushing against yours with a kind of sheer electricity you had never felt with anyone else. You shudder at the contact, hoping to blame it on the chill of her slim fingers. 

Avoiding her eye contact and glancing down at the screen, you see video upon video of the kiss, backed with sensual music that has your heart pounding. 

“Oh, my gosh,” you mutter, embarrassed at the amount of views and comments all of the tiktoks had. The bar was not quite as dark as you remembered, giving the cameras of the onlookers the perfect view of your little make-out session. 

You watch yourself kiss Paige a second time, forgetting that the aforementioned blonde was sitting right in front of you. It was your turn to bite your own bottom lip at the sultry music playing, eyes still glued to the way Paige had one hand loosely resting against your throat and the other on your jaw. Your hands were on her waist, pulling her closer and closer into you. 

She would never be close enough. 

Paige clears her throat, breaking you out of the trance from watching that damn kiss. “I think it was pretty believable, huh?” 

It was hard to hear her over the blood rushing in your ears. “Um, yeah. I think so…Listen I’m glad I could help you and Az, but I gotta go.”

Paige’s face is shocked at your sudden excuse, and before she can even attempt to stop you from fleeing, you are already running around gathering up your clothes from last night.

“I’ll return your sweats after I wash ‘em,” you mumble, already halfway out the door. The door closes with a slam, and then nothing but silence. Paige looks around, her beautiful features twisted in a look halfway between stunned and horrified. 

What had she done?

Little did she know that you were a bolter. 

‘The bolter’ was fondly coined to you by your friends. You had craved a real, all-consuming love for many years, but everyone always left. So you learned to leave first. You kept your hopes low, thus ensuring no one could get them up and leave you shattered. And here you were drowning in Paige, and she had all the power over you. And you hated that.

Walking back to your dorm, you vowed to avoid the blonde until your emotions were fully in check; you needed your “ice queen” persona back. You knew it’d be difficult considering your job was to chronicle her life, but you were really fucking stubborn.

You refused to let your intimacy issues and your deep-rooted fear of being hurt ruin Paige’s lively disposition.

You spend the next several days engulfing yourself in schoolwork and your media job. Paige reaches out to you several times, but she gets left on read, causing a pang of guilt to shoot through you. You knew it was for the best. 

But was it really?

You are pulled out of your thoughts a few evenings after leaving Paige by a pounding at your door. Your phone was open to tik tok once more, the images of you and Paige kissing had been like a drug to you; it was getting impossible to avoid. 

With an exasperated huff, you drag yourself off of your chair to open the door, and you are greeted with the harsh expressions of Nika and Azzi. 

Fuck. 

Before you can even attempt to settle their apparent fury, the two girls are barging into your room, gesturing to you to take a seat. Reluctantly doing so, in an effort to avoid pissing them off even more, you look up at them and wait for the diatribe to follow. 

Shockingly, it doesn't come. As you study their faces, they morph into genuine looks of hurt and disappointment. Somehow, that makes you feel worse. 

Azzi starts. “You want to explain to us why you’re ignoring Paige all of a sudden?”

“It wasn’t on purpose…” you trail off. 

Lies. Such lies.

You take a beat to gather your thoughts before continuing. “I don’t want to hurt her. But I can’t let myself get hurt either.”

Nika scoffs indignantly. “Please, Paige would never hurt you. We all know that.”

“I don’t know that,” you stress. “It’s killing me to think that I’m upsetting her, but it’s for the best. I’m terrible in relationships. The lines were already too blurry. I just drew the line in the sand before anything else could happen.”

Azzi flashes her puppy dog eyes at the hurt in your voice, and wraps a comforting arm around you.

“Life is too short to mourn something that’s still living,” she says wisely. “You’re missing out on a lot of happiness with that mindset.”

You knew there was some truth to her words, and taking a deep breath, you promised to reach out to Paige once your thoughts were in order. 

Feeling satisfied with your answer, Nika and Azzi left, but not without several threats. You couldn’t fuck this up this time.

Abandoning every instinct inside your body, you make the familiar trek back to Paige’s apartment. Your mind was racing, trying to find the words to the feelings that had been consuming you for an endless amount of time. Your legs carry you until you stop in front of the same door you had hurried out of a few days prior. A hand reaches up to knock, defiantly separating you from the dread that was attempting to stop you.

A few seconds pass, and you hold in a shaky breath in the anticipation of seeing your beautiful Paige once more. The door cracks open hesitantly, her blue eyes peering around the edge of it. Your heart breaks once your eyes are finally able to fully feast upon her features. She looks absolutely ruined. Her usually bright face was broken and expressionless, and it was hard to miss the darkness under her eyes. 

Tears spring to your eyes at her misery, and you immediately pull her into a hug.

“I’m so fucking sorry, P. I’m so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you.” The apologies fall out of your mouth like an incantation, desperate to fix your mess. 

Paige sniffles into your hair, and you want to fall apart once more. Moving your hands to her face, you wipe away the tears that had already fallen, silently vowing to never make her cry again. 

“What did I do?” she asks quietly, feeling humiliated that you had seen her in such a vulnerable state. 

“Nothing except give me the best kiss of my life. And I got scared. And when I’m scared, I run,” you whisper, still cradling her head in your small, shaking hands. 

“I messed up, not you. My feelings started consuming me, and I was so worried that once we didn’t have to pretend to date anymore, I would fall apart. Because I need you. I need you, Paige, and that fucking scares me.” 

You were being verbose at this point, hoping you could convince her. 

Paige finally looks at you, her eyes rimmed with red, and whispers “I need you, too.”

You let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding, and pulled her back into you once more, stroking her hair.  

The two of you sit in silence for a moment, soaking in each other’s presence that had been missed by the both of you. Once yours and Paige’s faces have dried up, and you are swaddled into her warm embrace again, you look up at her with a small smile on your face. 

“You think we could kiss like that again?” 

Paige just grins in response and pulls you in.

She was never letting you leave again, and you were no longer going to be the bolter.

Ta-da! What do we think? Should I write a part 4?

[holymusicalmothman]

I Can See You - Live Action!Sanji x Reader

Saw a post about wanting a fic with Sanji and this song that @its-a-show-stoppin-number posted and I knew I wasn't gonna get anything done until I wrote this. I've never written anything like this before to be honest. I kinda word vomited in a sense. The story just exited my fingers and here it is.

Warnings: Suggestive, kissing, secret relationship, nothing explicit, only implied, objectification of Taz Skylar's jawline, like. Why’s it so fine. Like. Dear lord.

No use of y/n, or those weird descriptor things, reader is gender neutral. Reader is however you imagine them

Word Count: 1.5K

Main Masterlist

It wasn’t something you had seen coming. It wasn’t like you, to be honest.

But he was just so damn charming. How were you supposed to resist?

Sanji hadn’t been part of the crew for long. A few weeks at most. But you had been watching him from the moment the crew walked into the Baratie. 

Tall. Strong. Nicely dressed. Polite. Respectful. Suave. Not to mention good looking. That jawline–in your defense, you HAD tried to ignore the blatant attraction.

Fleeting glances for almost a week, brushing past each other in the ship’s hallways. Fantasies filling your head. One specific dream of exchanging heated kisses in a dark corner had your mind racing whenever you were in the same room as the chef. 

It was impossible to function properly. 

Your job aboard the Going Merry was to document the events that occurred. Luffy thought it would be perfect to write down all of the adventures that would eventually lead to him becoming King of the Pirates.

And writing anything was impossible.

Blond hair and grey blue eyes kept your mind far too distracted.

So you decided to do something about it. 

Especially since you had caught his eyes on you repeatedly throughout dinner. 

So you took your time eating. A phrase which here means wasting your time until Luffy, Usopp, Zoro, and Nami had vacated the kitchen for the evening. Leaving you alone with Sanji.

As he stood to clear the dishes, your hand shot out, grabbing his sleeve and stopping him in his tracks.

You looked up into his eyes, your own wide with adrenaline. 

"Please tell me it's not all in my head." You said softly. "If it is, I promise, it'll be like this never happened."

"And if I say it's not all in your head?" He murmured the words, the tension so thick someone could have cut it with a knife. 

"Then I'd ask if you'd worry what the others thought. I'm not sure if relationships between crewmembers are allowed here. They weren't on my last crew. And I'm not too keen on asking Luffy if I'm entirely honest." You took a deep breath. "But I can't get you out of my head. It's like I'm addicted."

Sanji moved to rest his hands on either side of your chair, effectively caging you in. "So more like a secret mission. Just the two of us." He bit his lip and watched your eyes zero in on the action, a smirk spreading on his face instead.

You nodded, knowing you were in too deep to back out now.

Sanji continued, despite the fact that his eyes flicked down to your lips every few moments. "Everything professional, except when it's just the two of us."

You nodded again, your heart racing and palms sweating as the object of your desire leaned forward a little more, waiting for you to reach across that last gap separating the two of you.

Your eyes fluttered shut as that gap closed. 

As your lips careened into the chef's, he exhaled heavily through his nose, pulling you up to stand and then closer so you were pressed to his chest, your hands flying to tangle in his hair. 

The world around the two of you was a blur as you lost yourselves in each other. Clothes were shoved unceremoniously to the floor as you each tried to pull the other closer. You barely registered Sanji lifting you to sit on the kitchen counter, much less registering when the two of you had even moved from the table to the counter.

"You sure you want me sitting here?" You asked breathlessly, your newfound lover placing kisses down the length of your throat.

His laugh was husky against your throat. "It's a kitchen, darling. All the best meals happen in a kitchen."

That moment was the first of many. You had never regretted sharing a room with Nami more. While there were many kitchen escapades after that first one, the two of you still found a little thrill in having your secret. 

You spent time talking as well. You learned about each other. Likes and dislikes, pasts, dreams of the future. Sanji told you about his childhood with Zeff and his quest for the All Blue. You told him of your dream to be a famous poet one day and of your life on the sea. 

Something changed along those talking sessions. Something you liked. You wouldn’t call it a friends with benefits situation. You both knew it was something else, something deeper. 

Those words were just waiting to be said.

You two would lock eyes at random moments throughout the days and his eyebrow would quirk and you'd look away.

Nights would be spent with each other, sometimes words weren’t even exchanged. 

It was bliss.

One afternoon caught the two of you on the lower decks, encased by shadows. You had originally been working on writing down events in the logbook, but your lover had sought you out. 

Sanji had you caged up against the wall, kissing you with a fervor. As if you were the last meal he'd ever receive. 

He always kissed you like a starving man. 

However, you heard Usopp's voice getting closer to your hiding spot, calling for Sanji, and the two of you quickly separated and righted yourselves. 

He winked at you as you adjusted your skewed shirt. "You'll tell me more about how that dream of yours went later, right, darling?"

You smirked. "You wouldn't believe half the things I see inside my head." 

Sanji grinned, unable to resist capturing your lips in another kiss before slowly pulling away and heading down the hallway.

Nami cornered you later that day. 

"You've been hard to find lately." She stated. 

You shrugged. "I've been hiding away trying to find a quiet place to work on the log." This was the go to excuse. 

And Nami wasn't buying it. "It's been hard to find Sanji too."

Your eyes met her brown ones in questioning silence.

"I knew it." She muttered. "Sanji left his jacket on the floor in the hallway the other night. You do know we're not like other pirates, right? Nobody's gonna care if you two get together. 'Sides, pretty sure the only ones who haven't figured it out are Luffy and Usopp. But that's just a matter of time."

You were flabbergasted. "How in the--"

"You guys aren't very sneaky. Zorro found you two the other day. Plus the jacket."

Of course Zorro would find out first. But knowing that a relationship would be fine was also a relief to hear. 

You had just finished telling Nami about your's and the chef's so-called "secret mission" when Sanji brought lunch around a few minutes later. When he got to you, he handed you your food and your logbook. "You left this in the kitchen." And with a wink he walked away. 

"He's not even subtle about it." Nami stated.

You laughed. Sanji hadn't been subtle from the moment you met him at the Baratie. He had only stopped calling you 'madame' because you told him it made you feel old. 

He had immediately switched to darling, being far too suave and charming for his own good. 

You opened up your logbook. It had gotten easier to get back to your job lately. Apparently the dark hallway meetings and late night rendezvous worked perfectly in helping your focus.

You immediately noticed his note. 

"Meet me tonight"

You snapped the notebook shut, grinning like a schoolgirl,and Nami only rolled her eyes and shook her head. "You two are the weirdest." 

It was late when you began to make your way to the kitchen that night.

He must have been impatient, because you found him waiting down the hallway, still dressed in his suit and necktie. 

You never knew blue could feel like fire, but his eyes were smoldering as they met yours. He had you up against the wall in moments, his lips on your own.

He never did anything halfway, it was all or nothing. That thought crossed your mind as you began to lose yourself in the way he kissed you. In the way it was tender and yet passionate. In the way he caught your lip with his own. In the way he would sort of nudge his jaw forward in little movements. In the way his tongue always seemed to ask permission by gently touching your own lips and leading you into deeper and deeper kisses. 

You could drown in this man. 

The words slipped out in between kisses before you could stop them. 

"I love you."

But he just grinned. A smile so bright, were the sun out it would have felt threatened. Remarkably sweet for the heated exchange that had been occuring only seconds prior.

"I love you, too, darling."

And the heat was back. His hands, which had been holding you gently at your hips, slipped to lift you and press you harder into the wall as the passion returned. 

Only to come to a screeching halt as someone cleared their throat. 

Luffy stood a few feet away, struggling to mask his shock.

"While I'm happy for the two of you, maybe the hallways are not the best for such...activities?" he said.

You both nodded, mildly embarrassed to have been caught. 

As your captain disappeared further down the hallway, a laugh bubbled out of you.

Sanji turned to look at you, bewildered. 

Grabbing his hand, you led him away. "You heard our captain, gotta go somewhere other than a hallway."

Understanding spread across his face in the way of a knowing smirk. "I completely understand, darling."

I can see you, waiting down the hall for me, I can see you, up against the wall with me.

I can see you, throw your jacket on the floor, I can see you, make me want you even more

[leon4nyx]

Where My Affections Lie

CrownPrince!RE4R!Leon x AFAB!Maid!Reader

word count - 2.6k

tags - MDNI, not proofread, slight angst, p in v, oral sex (m! and f! receiving), fingering (f!receiving), soft dom/sub undertones, creampie, missionary, begging, aftercare, generally vanilla sex

the crown prince, Leon, grapples with his princely duty to marry the princess of the neighboring kingdom in order to secure a political alliance with both lands, even if his heart belongs to another− you.

Leon enters your quarters, shutting the door and sliding the lock in place behind him. He looks crestfallen and defeated, his dejected face worrying you. He takes your work-hardened hands in his smooth ones, pressing kisses and nuzzling his face into the warmth of your palm as he looks up at you with tear-glossed eyes. He sets aside the linens you were folding, recently picked from the clothesline first thing in the afternoon. Unlike your princely lover who could indulge in personal interests and other idle hobbies, nearly all your days in serving his family are spent busying yourself with chores and domestic duties; up until he had come inside to seek comfort in your presence, you were occupied with folding newly dried sheets before sending it upwards to their personal housekeepers.

“What’s the matter?” you gently ask him, cupping his teary face nearer to yours.

“The king and queen,” his voice nearly cracks. “My parents, they will marry me off to the princess of the neighbouring kingdom in a month. I am due to meet her at the end of this week and shall be gone for two nights.”

The breath never makes it past your lips, lodging itself in your throat to form an uncomfortable lump that accompanies the sunken feeling in your chest and the tears that begin to blur your vision.

“It is purely for the interest of politics, for the economic well-being of our kingdom,” Leon continues though he sounds far from pleased. “Father has cut ties with the trade of our previous ally, much to my contempt. No matter what I say and how much I beg, nothing will change their minds. A ship is on its way to deliver the message now.”

The king’s speak is the law and you know that there is no denying his wishes unless you wish to lose your head. If Leon, the crown prince, couldn’t get him to retract his statement, what more can a lowly maid do? You set aside the ache of your own heart, putting Leon’s emotions first in this gutting moment in both your lives.

“Leon, it’s all going to be fine. I’m sure she is rich and beautiful,” you point out with a feigned smile.

“That is nothing if I cannot have you,” he responds. “I care not for material riches when you are far more wealthy in the love you spoil me with. She is not you so I could care less about her. She will never be you.”

“The kingdom needs you, Leon. We are all relying on you for our prosperity,” you quietly say. “It’s best you follow the king, this is for the good of your people.”

Leon shakes his head, his blond fringe swaying along with the motion. He dips his head, eyes downcast to his bare ring finger.

“I don’t wish to stop loving you, my dove.” He confesses in a voice so broken.

“But you’ll hurt her,” you retort. “She is your wife, my future queen, and I am but an ignoble servant. She will bear your children so you must love her, as fiercely or more than you have loved me.”

He shakes and cries into the crook of your neck, saline tears leaving dark circles on the fabric of your garments as his arms hold you close to himself.

“It’ll be fine, Leon. I forgive you and I always will,” you whisper as you pat the soft hair at the back of his head. “It must be done.”

You had more words to say but it dies down at the base of your throat, the lump growing more uncomfortable as tears of your own descend as you both share your griefs in the tragedy of your circumstances.

After a delicate silence spent tearfully, Leon pulls back and stares into your eyes with fervour as if he is committing every blemish and groove of your face to memory.

“Fuck it,” he whipsers beneath his breath.

Light and careful hands cup your cheeks as if your face is made of glass, drawing your face near until your lips connect. The kiss is gentle and careful at first, no more than the tender smacking of lips and stifled noises accompanied by low smacks but the passion and desperation grows tenfold; his hands find themselves groping and grabbing, warm tongues coming to meet in the middle to engage in a passionate tango amidst hot puffs of breaths. Leon breaks away and plants damp kisses on the side of your lips, trailing it down your neck and making its way into your collarbones. His fingers fumble around behind you, fervidly undoing the laces of your clothing.

“Take these off,” he damn near growls. “Rip it, just rip it.”

You reach behind you to try and undo it swiftly but your lover has gone impatient, the sound of fabric ripping reaching your ears as your back is exposed to the air as he shoves the remainder of the torn clothing down, exposing your breasts.

“Leon!” You yelp in surprise.

“Need you,” he breathes in between clumsy pecks to your lips. “Need you now.”

He backs you into your bed, gently setting you down before climbing on top of your pinning you down with his enveloping weight. His kisses are bold and sloppy, desperate for more of you as teeth clack and grunts increase in volume. Your hands untangle themselves from his locks, gliding down the ripples of his muscled back and down to his trousers as you try to shove it down. Taking your hint, he rises up for a moment and undoes the button before shucking it down along with his underwear. His cock springs out, slapping into his abdomen right underneath his navel; his tip is flushed and glossy, covered in a thin layer of his arousal. Veins deliciously adorn the shaft like vines, the sight before you making you all the more hot and bothered. You sit up as Leon lies down, back resting against the headboard as you bend to eye-level with his erection.

“Please,” he begs. “Just…– ah, fuck.”

You interrupt his begging in the most heavenly way possible with your lips wrapped around his tip, gently giving cautious sucks before you take more of him into your mouth and start bobbing your head up and down. Spit dribbles from the corner of your mouth and glides down his girth, making Leon painfully harder if it was even possible.

“F-Faster,” he chokes out as his hips twitch. “Faster… yeah, jus’ like that.”

You pull away for a moment to catch your breath, a thin string of spit connecting you to his cock. You wrap your warm hands around him and form a tunnel, gliding it up and down his length at a pleasurable pace while you look at him through lidded eyes.

“F-Fuck,” he whimpers as his back bows from time to time. “Ah, ple–please, please. F-Fuck, faster!”

Shlicks resonate through the room, growing in speed as you pick up the pace with your hands. His face tightens and his balls flex, signaling that he’s right over the edge when you pull your hand away for a moment before replacing it with the wetness of your mouth again.

“Faster, faster–ngh–faster!” He chants in a whiny tone as his hands cup the back of your head as he urges you on. “Mine, y-you’re… hngh… mine! A-And I’m yours– all yours, p-please!”

He shoves your head down a little rougher, catching you off-guard as warm spurts of his cum shoots deep inside your mouth. Throaty whines and moans accompany his bliss, throat exposed as his head is thrown back in a white-hot ecstasy. He releases his hands from your head, letting you pull away as you take a breath. He’s still hard, angry cock pointing to the sky as it kicks in desire for more of you.

“Get on your back for me,” he pants in a low register. Sitting up, he crawls over you to lay down. “Let me return the favor, like a good lover does.”

You lift your hips up for him as he unbuttons your lower garments and slides it off of your legs before haphazardly tossing it to the floor as he focuses on his desire right between your legs. The sunlight filtering in through the window illuminates your soaked pussy, bathing it in a tantalizing glow.

“She’s crying for me and I haven’t even touched her yet,” he thickly chuckles to himself as he parts your soaked folds with his thumb, earning a weak mewl from you.

“Touch me, Leon. “ You admit in a hushed tone. “Please.”

“I’m going to need you to be a little louder for me, my queen,” he breathes against your inner thigh as he noses your sensitive clit.

“Leon,” you drawl. “Please! Please, just touch me.” Your cheeks burn with embarrassment at hearing yourself beg but you’re given no chance to bask in it before he dives in and plunges his tongue. “Leon!”

He positions your legs to rest against his shoulders, his arm encircled over your hips to gently rub soothing circles against your skin as he laps and licks like a mad hound. He looks up at you, the throb in his weeping cock aching even more powerful as your cries of his name reverbs throughout the room with no regard for who could hear.

“Good girl,” he purred as he plunged his right index into your eager hole and used his left thumb to stroke your pudgy clit. “Good fucking girl.”

“H-Harder,” you breathed as your velvety walls clamped around his finger. “L-Leon…”

“Gotta give my girl what she wants,” your lover breathes as he withdraws his finger to add another one and plunge it inside again. “You hear yourself, love? How she’s so needy for my cock?”

“Fuck!” You curse, writhing due to the overwhelming pleasure that runs through your body. “Ah! T-there, Leon– there, don’t s-stop!”

Your moans increase in volume and pitch, growing more feral and raw with the need to chase after that high as he relentlessly rubs that gummy spot you love.

“That’s it,” you hear him say. “Don’t be quiet, have to let everyone know who I love. Let the princess know, yeah?”

You feel empty again, only for his mouth to engulf your wet sex. Your mouth parted to make way for a primal groan, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you feel that knot in your abdomen tense up for an incoming release.

“Louder baby,” Leon says with a smug smirk. “Let them know how good I treat you– ugh!”

He groans as his eyes shut as you tug on his face forcefully, shoving your pussy into his face as your body shakes with the shockwave of pleasure that crashed over you.

“Leon!” you breathe as you keep his head in place between your legs. “Leon!”

You chant his name over and over again like a prayer, screaming in pleasure as you feel his tongue kitten lick your clit. Your body relaxes, your fingers releasing its vice grip on his hair as your legs fall apart and free his head.

“Are you still with me?” Leon asks as he presses gentle kisses to your cheeks.

“Yes,” you pant as you direct his lips to yours. You hum with the taste of your slick, still not satisfied with being devoured alive alone. “Wan’ more, dove.”

“Good,” he darkly chuckles. “You want me now?”

You nod feverishly, coating his erection in your slick and his spit as you grind despite your overstimulation.

“Fuck,” he hisses as he lines himself up. “Tell me you want me, please, love. Tell me you want me so bad.”

Your hands gently push his hips down to yourself, easing his hot cockhead into you. “I… want you so bad, Leon. So fucking bad.”

“T-That’s it,” he encourages you as he pushes himself in slowly. Despite having made love with him more than twice, his cock still stretched you out like you’ve never taken him before. “Fuck, you’re so tight.”

He stills to let you adjust to being stuffed to the brim, occasionally huffing grunts when he feels your walls pulse and constrict around his sensitive cock. Once you give him the go-ahead to move, he moves his head to watch your face scrunch in pleasure as he begins to rock his cock in and out of your soaked pussy.

“I love your whines,” he chuckles. “Fuck, what a slut for me– only me. You’re mine,” he rasped.

“Yours!” You choke out as you drag your nails down his back, certain that it will leave red streaks that would certainly sting later on. “Yours, L-Leon!”

The grind of his recently-trimmed pelvis provided a delicious friction as he drove himself deeper into you, the bed creaking with each thrust.

“L-Love… you!” Leon keened, punctuating his words with harsh slaps. “So fucking much!”

Leon is temporarily taken aback by your hands moving to both sides of his sweat-soaked cheeks as you drew it nearer to yourself and captured his lips in a hungry exchange of passionate-fueled smacks as he delivered more thrusts of growing intensity. He felt his heart drop at the fact that he will need to consummate his marriage with the princess he will soon marry, a dark cloud coming back to trouble his mind, but the feeling of your teeth and tongue on his neck brought him back to the present so he pushed those negative feelings away for now, focusing on how snug your pussy envelopes his cock and how pretty the marks you’ve left on his neck and collar bones are. He does the same, moving your face to the side to paint your neck in reds, purples, and light indents of his teeth on the flesh.

“I’m g-going to cum,” Leon whines against your ear. “F-Fuck! This sweet pussy’s m-made just f’me.”

“Leon!” You exclaim as you cling onto him even more as if he’d be ripped away. “L-Leon, I-I’m going t’cum!”

He knocks the breath away from your lungs, back arched and chest pressed against him as your finger nails embed crescents into his shoulder blades. You weakly gush some more of your juices around his length, velvety pussy rippling around his cock.

With a throaty whine of your name, he holds you close against him as he delivers the last thrust before he shoots his warm spend inside you. He only puts a halt to his shallow thrusts when you tell him to stop as the pleasure is now bordering on discomfort. Ever the caring boyfriend he is, even in times of steaming passion, he looks after your wellbeing. He pushes hair away from your eyes, gently rubbing your cheeks as he adoringly whispers your name while he tends to you first.

“Does anything hurt?” He asks. “Did I cause you any pain?”

You laugh, tucking a long strand of sweat-dampened hair behind his ears. “No, my love. You made me feel happy today, like you always have. Stay with me for a little longer, Leon. I wish to rest with you,” you softly ask of him as you lift your covers to your chest.

“What about cleaning yourself up?” He asks.

“That can wait. I need you now,” you respond. “I meant it when I screamed that I needed you, Leon. I said it with my heart.”

His heart pinches in his chest, unfortunately brought back to the grim reality of his situation but that can wait so for now, he lifts the covers over both your bodies and stretches his arm to let you rest on it, stroking your hair until you fall asleep with no plans to leave despite what awaits him.

NOTE - hi guys!! i decided to try my hand at writing smut so if this isn't the best smut you've ever read, i'd like to apologize because this is my first time!! though it was certainly full of me giggling mid-writing coz i found my situation lowkey funny, i actually had fun but i don't think i'll be writing lots of smut :) i decided to post this to check out the flexibility of my writing skills so this is pretty experimental. i won't be super active in here because my main is @leonw4nter :) i also decided to start a ko-fi [still fixing some things up] in case anyone wants to drop a tip but please, please, please do not think that i'm forcing you to give me some money-- it's just there as a grander form of showing appreciation but likes and reblogs get me going already :) anyway, that's it and thank you for reading this <3 let me know what you guys think in the comments, i'd love to hear your thoughts <3

[latenightdaydreams]

Pirate Captain König please 🙏

A woman hides aboard his ship and doesn't get caught until he walks his deck late at night while the others are drinking below?

She's on the run and needed to flee.

Pirate!König x Stowaway (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List ✍🏽

>cw: fem/afab, mentions of murder, light violence, some fluff.

1.0k word count

🏴‍☠️

.

.

To escape prosecution for the death of your late husband, you went on the run. Living life as a lady of society has gotten you nowhere but into more trouble. Along the coastline, there are usually ships that part to the new world. A place you can start new. No one would know your name or life story.

Late at night while walking, you see a single ship docked. This is the chance you’ve been waiting for, so you waste no time in boarding. What you don’t know at the time is that the ship hadn’t docked at an official port. It is simply here so the rambunctious pirates on board can buy more supplies before their next voyage. Once you make sure the coast is clear, you rush on to the ship and quickly find a place to hide. Your body finally feeling safe after the last weeks' events, you eventually fall asleep.

The next day, when you wake up, you can hear the sound of men’s voices booming all around. You decide to stay hidden and wait for nightfall before attempting to move around the ship. In your mind, you try to think of a story to spin for the captain, assuming that you will eventually have to come face to face with one of these men.

That night, König sat with his men down below to celebrate their recent successes. They all sing, drink, and carry on. König, not being a very social man, takes a break from the cramped area and goes up on deck to stretch his legs and get some fresh air. It’s a calm night, the moon large and lighting up the typically dark seas.

With slow footsteps, he begins to walk around and looks up at the stars in the sky. Other than the sounds coming from below deck, it’s a quiet night. König lets out a soft sigh and runs his fingers through his long blond hair. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a silhouette. He turns his head to see you. Standing in a pale-colored dress at the edge of the deck and looking out.

It takes him a good minute to take in what he’s seeing. For a moment he thinks it’s the alcohol mixed with loneliness making him see what he desires, but then he hears you hum softly. His eyes travel up and down your body before settling back on the back of your head. He takes a few soft steps as to not scare you with his presence.

“Miss?” König speaks quietly.

He startles you, causing you to jump. Unaware anyone had even come up, your eyes meet with his as you slowly begin to stammer, stumbling over your words. You never came up with a good excuse to be on board in the instance you were found. For some reason, you figured it would take longer before it happened.

“I’m sorry.” Is all that manages to leave your lips.

“For?” König raises an eyebrow as he continues to approach you, not allowing you to make space between the two of you.

“Being…here.” Your voice sounds small and unsure.

König would usually be annoyed and angry with a situation like this, but you’re a woman; an attractive one at that. Being on the sea leaves König with very little time to meet or interact with women, so he isn’t in a rush to do away with you. He takes a moment to study your facial expression, one of panic.

“You’re on the run I assume?” König asks with a sly grin.

“How did you know?” You ask with wide eyes.

“Beautiful women don’t usually just board any old ship without good reason. They’re usually running from trouble or are trouble.” König steps even closer leaving only a few inches between the two of you. “And which one might you be?”

“I- I’m no trouble.” The tone in which you speak and the look in your eyes gives you away, and König is smart enough to know when he’s being lied to.

“Nein?” König walks around you, inspecting you. He stops behind you and wraps his hands around your waist, holding you and pulling you back towards him. “You know, I’m not exactly a law-abiding citizen. You can trust me, Engel.”

Feeling unsafe with his arms around you, you snap. You turn and land a punch to his face. A look of surprise forms as you pull back to hit him again, but he moves quicker than you. His larger fist wraps around yours, letting out a deep chuckle. There is a sparkle in his eye where you expected rage to be. He pulls you flush against his body as he gazes down at you.

“So, you are the trouble then.” König says, laughing softly. “What did you do, Engel?”

“I killed my husband.” You admit as if at confession, the heavy weight lifts off of your chest.

“I’m sure he deserved it.” König responds with a gentle tone. “You’re safe here with me. My men don’t hurt women.” He reassures you as he lets go of your fist and moves his hand to caress your face.

You nod your head, not expecting this to be the response. The fact you didn’t have to explain yourself and he just… accepts you. For a moment you’re simply speechless, how can you say thank you for this type of tenderness?

“You don’t know how kind you are sir.”

“Call me König, bitte. What’s your name?”

“I’m y/n.”

“Y/n…” König repeats your name to get used to the taste on his tongue. His eyes drift down your body, taking note of how your dress fits your form. You are not only a dangerous woman, but a stunning one. Exactly his type. “Please, let’s get you something to eat.”

König’s fingers slip into yours, intertwining while he holds your hand gently. He leads you forward and down to where the rest of his crew is drinking. They all grow silent quickly when they see you.

“Men, this is y/n. She will be my personal guest so please treat her with the same respect.” König looks down at you and smiles. “Let’s make her feel at home.”

[unholyhelbig]

request: single mom reader decides to loan shark from natasha’s mob. when reader can’t pay back the loan, natasha’s men capture and beat her. natasha sees reader among the criminals and drug dealers who also haven’t payed back their loans, and excuses her, forgiving her debt.

Title: The Oversight

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Wordcount: 2799

Warnings: Drug use, kidnapping, guns, choking, threats, blood, horrible grammar.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven

[a/n: Yeah, I kind of feel like this needs a part two. Let me know what you guys think and if you're interested]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

Each breath you drew in spurred a sharp stitch in your side. They came in rapid succession, even as you struggled to recall the fuzzy details that usually calmed you down. Your first street name. What you called your first pet. The name of your second-grade teacher. They all swirled foggily, unable to recall.

Your mouth tasted metallic cotton and your heartbeat was pulsing through your entire body. Counting the thrums hadn’t helped either, you gave up as you rolled your neck in a snow circle. The dried blood that hardened against the side of your face, your cheek, and down the expanse of your collarbone crackled at the soft movement.

The room that housed you was pitch black. It was hard to tell when you opened your eyes, tears welling up and dripping down your face onto your uniform. Your arms were bound behind your back, shoulders screaming in protest and fingers going numb from the cold. Your small noises echoed. Wherever you were was impossibly vast.

The next breath that escaped you was deeper than the rest. Not necessarily calm, but enough for you to take stock of the situation; there were flashes of you leaving the diner where you worked nothing short of twelves. It had just rained, and the air was humid. You dropped your keys and bent down to pick them up.

Before you could insert them into the lock, something hard had come down on your temple. There was a rush of heat sloshing down your face and a moment later, as you looked up at the sky, the steel tip of a boot took the rest of your consciousness.

That didn’t bother you. You were fine, a little banged up, but fine. Your daughter was left with the sitter. It could have been hours, maybe even a day. Your stomach clenched in hunger, and you drifted in and out of lucidity. They’d left you un-gagged but you didn’t have it in you to scream. You had a sinking feeling that no one would hear you anyway.

You’d flinched when the first 500-volt lamp let out a sharp hiss before flipping on. You shrunk into yourself, blinking away the sudden burst of white light that filled the room. It was directed towards you, and the rest of the space was still a frustratingly thick darkness. You couldn’t see who had turned them on, but they could see you.

The boots that walked across the floor were loud. They echoed like your earlier sobs. A metal chair was being dragged, and the sound was piercing. It did nothing to aide your aching head. You were thankful to see something other than pitch black, however big the danger.

You recognized the man who was in front of you. His outline flickered solidly. He looked rougher than you did; dirty-blonde hair, and stubble. There was a bandage across the center of his nose, on his fingertips, as if he’d fisted the razor while shaving. His purple T-shirt was covered by a dusty-brown leather jacket. His stare was hard, emotionless.

“You’re awfully quiet for a hostage.” He said, straddling the chair he had dragged over. His chest rested against the metal backing. “You can scream if you want. Wear yourself down. It’ll make this a lot easier.”

“What is this?” You asked instead of taking him up on his offer.

He was familiar to you. Clint. He came into the diner every Wednesday and Friday night like clockwork. He’d order a roast beef on rye with Swiss cheese and extra dressing on the side. He’d suck down two beers with his meal and tipped generously.

Sometimes he was with the man they called ‘The Winter Soldier’. You’d always found the name laughable, but the rumors about him were enough for you to hold your tongue. He never ate but would sometimes order a diet coke and sip it while Clint spoke through large bites of food.

Law enforcement wouldn’t’ touch Bucky Barnes, and your boss would typically comp whatever he ordered. A few months ago, you had shared your first words with him behind the diner. The air stunk of rotted food and hardly counted as fresh air. However, it was a few degrees cooler than the kitchen.

He had offered you a cigarette, one already perched between his lips, a zippo lighter at the ready in his other hand. You declined with the shake of your head, and a quiet ‘no thank you’. There was an uncomfortable silence, but it was better than the damp warmth of the kitchen. A sweet, burning scent filled your nose when he lit his cigarette and let the smoke curl around the two of you like a slack rope.

“You work hard in there.” Bucky said, taking a long inhale. He held it within his lungs, voice pinched. “Harder than anyone else I’ve seen in a while.”

You weren’t about to tell him about your daughter, not with his reputation, or the small smattering of pink scars across his chiseled features. So, you nodded instead. The number of tips you got in the broken down, greasy diner was the difference between two meals and one. So, you smiled sweetly and laid on the southern accent even though you’d only spent a short stint in Georgia when you were eighteen. It was easy to perfect.

“I bet you could name my order right now.”

“You don’t order.”

“I don’t trust the food.” He shrugged listlessly, a lazy smile against his lips. You couldn’t help but smile back.

“That’s a good call.”

He laughed at your honesty, and it was a nice sound. He disarmed you and that was worrying. Bucky let the cigarette sizzle out in a puddle at his feet. He used the tip of his steel-toed boot to grind the paper into damp ash.

“You wouldn’t’ have to work so hard if you had some extra cash, would you?”

The question caught you off guard and you couldn’t stifle the vicious glare that you gave him. Your break was almost over, and you could have, should have, walked back into the restaurant to finish the rest of your shift. Bucky lifted his hands up as a peace offering.

“Look, lady, I didn’t mean to offend you or anything. All I’m saying is, you’re not blind to what happens in there, the type of people that frequent this place. You’ve always turned a blind eye and that’s something my boss appreciates. Something she trusts.”

“And who exactly is your boss?”

He tsked “I can’t tell you that, sweetheart. But she wants to make you an offer, she wants to offer you a loan. You’re what? Three months behind on rent? She’ll front that for you and the following two.”

You took a deep breath of stale air. It was a tempting offer, even if it came in the form of a seedy enforcer in an even seedier alleyway. You were three days from getting evicted. Three days from ending up on the streets in a neighborhood that didn’t’ have a single safe one.

“What’s the catch?” You asked.

“Catch? There’s no catch. This is a friendly loan. All you’ve gotta do is pay it back when you’re on your feet again.”

It was an oversight, not asking for a concrete timeline. You hadn’t paid Bucky’s boss back yet, and over the next few months, there were stifled threats, and both Bucky and Clint watched you carefully at the job that you still worked like nothing had changed. The feeling of being indebted lingered, but this time, it was to an unknown entity instead of a landlord that was ultimately harmless.

Everything needed to be paid back in full. These were thousands you didn’t have. And now, two weeks after the initial threat, you were strapped to a metal chair with blood dripping down the sound of your face, in despite need of a drink of water.

Clint was harmless compared to The Winter Soldier, but his muscles still flexed under his shirt as he pulled his jacket off and let it fall to the dusty floor illuminated in blue light. “I would prefer not to get that dirty. It’s genuine leather, you know?”

You glowered at him as he stood and took a few more steps towards you. He looked relatively harmless each time you’d seen him in the diner. Sometimes he had a girl with him, a slight thing that was just as littered in scars as he was. She would order a plate of bacon that was cooked to a crisp and split it with a golden retriever that laid at their feet.

When his wrapped knuckles made contact with your cheek, your head clocked in the opposite direction. There was a sharp pain in your jaw, a ringing in your ear. He had slammed into the same side of your face as earlier, and you lost vision for a second.

Blood filled your mouth, and you spit the mix of saliva, bile, and blood onto the floor. There was a drain in the center and that worried you more than anything else. Your breathing came fast and hard and you glared at him, teeth stained pink.

“Is that all?” You asked him.

It was stupid, you knew it was stupid. But it bothered you more than anything that you had gotten yourself wrapped up in this. Your father was no stranger to the mob, and you should have seen it from a mile away. The fear he lived with. Until the day he died, he would look over his shoulder and you refused to do the same.

Clint grabbed your face, squeezing hard enough to bring tears to your eyes. “You’re a tough chick, huh? I think we both know why you’re here. All you have to do is get the money and all of this vanishes.”

“I don’t have the money.” Your words were garbled between his fingers. “You’re sure as fuck not going to get it if you kill me.”

“Kill you?” Clint unhanded you and let out a laugh. “Kill you, she says. No, we’re not going to kill you, she would never get her money that way… your daughter on the other hand.”

You pulled against the ropes, and they dug painfully into you. The chair was liable to break, but it had been bolted to the floor. It was much stronger than the one he’d dragged over. The mix of anger and fear that had rushed over you pulled away any thought of lingering aches and pains. Be damned to the head trauma.

Your teeth were gritted, voice a low hiss “Leave her the fuck out of this.”

“Did I strike a nerve?”

“I swear to you, I will get your money, I just need time. I’m not… You can keep me under surveillance as collateral, take my car, my apartment- just leave her out of this.”

Clint gripped your throat with his calloused hand, your ability to breathe became more difficult, half-moon nails digging into your flesh. It stung fiercely, and you let out a gurgle in response. “Or she could be our collateral. I think she’d make a great enforcer, with the proper education, that is.”

Is that what happened to the girl that ate lunch with Clint at the diner? She didn’t looked like she was there against her will, but there was an immense sadness to her eyes. Clint hadn’t released you yet and your vison was growing fuzzy at the edges.

“Let her go,”

Your chest was burning at this point and when he pulled his hand back you tried desperately to regain your sense of lucidity. You coughed, nearly vomiting as he took a long stride backwards, seemingly put into his place with a simple sentence.

Over the ringing of your ears, you heard the sharp click of heels. They were confident, and your chin dropped to your chest as you panted in succession, spit dripping in strings from your lips. You didn’t have the strength to look up, your head was pounding.

“I think that’s enough,” Her voice was smooth, just the smallest bit of an accent in her words. You couldn’t place it, but you couldn’t tell which way was up at this point. “You’re dismissed.”

“Oh, come on Natasha, I was just having a little fun.”

“Dismissed, Clint.”

There was a labored sigh and the sound of his footsteps retreating. It brought little relief to you, however. You felt as if you had traded one evil for another. Eventually, you lifted your head to stare at the ceiling. The stranger hadn’t said anything, and the pitch dark above was more desirable to the unknown.

You heard her sit down and felt her eyes watching you. The swimming in your head started to dissipate so you clocked her with a stare. The woman in front of you was angelic, in such a way that you figured Clint’s choking stunt had actually done you in.

Her stare was an unripe green rimmed in gold, her cheekbones carved from marble. There was a beautiful softness to her expression, and her deep red hair flowed over her shoulders in a waterfall of color. She was studying you, not phased by the cold of the room.

The woman wore a black t-shirt, deep slashes of ink peaking from the dip of the V-neck. You didn’t’ let your eyes linger long. It was a marking that you’d seen on Clints bicep and on Buckey’s hand. You hadn’t gotten a chance to clock it on the girl that was kept in their company.

“Is this the part where you come in with your good cop schtick?” You mumbled.

“Darling, Clint is the good cop.”

“Nice, I like it.” You rolled your shoulders back, fighting the stiffness “Bad cop and worse cop is much more effective.”

“You’ve got quite the mouth on you for someone in your position. Thousands of dollars in debt and seemingly no way to pay back my money. It’s not a good spot to be in, Y/n.”

Natasha stood from the chair, her muscles straining at the action. In a fluid motion, she pulled a black standard issue handgun from the space between her skin and her jeans. She pumped the shaft, the sound echoed more than your quickened breathing.

She used the tip to push your chin up, forcing you to look into her unblinking eyes. You were a dead man, you knew that from her cold stare. You couldn’t look away, even if the option was given.

“Baby, I’ve been in this business for a long time.” Her breath was hot on your collarbone, a mix of mint and tobacco. “I know exactly the type that you are. I cater to your kind. More often than not, my clientele need a little bit of encouragement.”

The tip of her gun traced your jaw, her finger loosely on the trigger. It was cold against your collarbone, down the center of your breasts. She held it there, jaw set in stone.

“We’ll keep you here for a few days. Once you dry out a little, I’m sure you’ll suddenly come into the cash.”

“Dry out? You think I’m on drugs?”

The tip pushed hard enough into your sternum to make you let out a grunt of pain. “You hide it quite well, pet. I’m sure it won’t be as simple when you start to feel those withdraw symptoms. Money flows simple in this town when those cravings kick in.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at her, despite the weapon that she was packing. A frown creased between her eyebrows, but she held it in place. “The hardest thing I’ve ever hit is a blunt in a high school rotation. That was your brilliant plan? Dry me out and then what? Search my backyard for jars filled with money. I don’t have it. I make 2.50 an hour at a diner.”

Natasha scrutinized you, eyes hard. She righted herself and pulled the gun away from your center before flipping on the safety and shoving it back into her jeans. She started to pace the length of the light.

“Bucky, he offered me a loan and I took it so I could pay the rent on an apartment for me and my daughter.” You said, voice quiet “I work thirteen hour shifts six days a week, and it’s still not enough. I’m not… I don’t know who you cater to, but I have a feeling it’s not someone like me.”

“No.” she crossed her arms over her chest, “It seems as if you’re an oversight.”

“Great,” you flexed your numbing fingers, “An oversight you’ll let go?”

Natasha shook her head, clenching and unclenching her jaw. “No, I’m afraid not.”

[naomihatake]

In search of freedom (Ch. 1)

1. They're bad news

Chapter 1 ; Chapter 2

⠀⠀⠀⠀She's been searching for freedom her entire life and everytime she thought it was laying right in front of her eyes, she was mistaken. She was running around the East Blue, seeking herself and her dreams, meeting people she never forgot. No matter how much she traveled, she could only catch a glimpse of peace before realizing everything would crumble at her feet.

⠀⠀⠀⠀Maybe it was destiny that brought her on that ship with three strangers — foolishly, that's what she tried to believe when the moon shined beautifully and hope settled in her chest, squeezed by the same ribcage where feelings were blooming.

Pairing: female!reader x OPLA Zoro Roronoa. This chapter follows the events of the first episode.

Warnings for this chapter: physical violence (fights), mentions of deaths, fluff, some cursing, mentions of tarot and palm readings

Word count: 3,6k

Theme song: “Loreley” by Blackmore's Night (click on the link)

A/N: This is the first part of a fanfiction I was thinking of since first watching One Piece Live Action. I started the anime too and I'm around episode 64 already. I'm using the OPLA course of action for now and I have no idea for an ending, but enough scenarios to write and share. I don't know how far this will go, but I'll have fun writing it and considering how much I like Zoro (born anime and LA), I'm using both of them as inspiration. Sorry for the lack of interaction between reader and Zoro, but I promise things will change.

The reader will be referred to as "Witch" especially in the next chapter, because I have no intentions of using "Y/N". There will be more information revealed about her past and abilities in the next chapter.

I'm open for comments and opinions <3

"Excuse me," she smiled sweetly while swaying away from someone who was standing right in front of her and a table she had to serve for. "Here," she carefully let the plates down.

She received a large smile coming from the young man with dark curls and a straw hat hanging around his neck. His pink haired companion seemed very shy, barely glancing at her before looking back at his plate, thanking in a small voice.

The tavern buzzed with a peaceful energy in the late hours of morning, the big windows letting the warm rays of sun in, lighting up the place. There were men sitting at a few tables, no sign of any other woman except for her and the very owner of that place, who just finished cooking something — were those cookies? It smelled divine.

Her dress fluttered around her knees as she moved away from their table to take other orders, a strand of her hair falling against her cheek after running around for so long. When she finally stopped in her tracks by the bar, intense eyes searched for anyone else who might've needed something. Lucky for her, she could finally breathe for a few seconds, resting her hips against the bar.

However, her eyes fell on the tall figure who just chugged down his throat a shot of alcohol. His green hair made her frown to herself, looking away before she could get caught ogling some stranger. After a few seconds, she looked at him again, this time at the three swords resting against his hip.

Three swords? What can someone do with three swords?

Everyone probably had the same question whenever they saw him for the first time. However, he felt somehow familiar, as if she's heard of someone like that before. A pirate? No, wait, a pirate hunter? The owner told her of so many things and so many people it was impossible to remember each one of them, but she was pretty sure she mentioned some pirate hunter only a few days ago.

Her thought process was interrupted when a man with blonde hair and suit walked by in front of her. Considering the men dressed in white uniforms who entered with him, they must be marines and he was probably their superior — he was walking like he owned the entire port.

She held back from rolling her eyes in annoyance. Her thoughts ran back to what her friend said about pirates last time, the way they argued back and forth about how pirates aren't good. However, she had her own reasons for claiming that not all pirates were ruthless monsters, without elaborating.

She flinched lightly when she heard the thud of a metal plate falling on the floor, snapping her head towards a little girl who was stuttering apologies to the blonde man. Her eyebrows were pulled together at his angry and loud voice mocking the child who had tears in her eyes, fear seeping through her very bones at the exaggerated reaction.

Apparently, they knocked into each other. Oh, there were two cookies on the floor. One of them got crushed under the man's foot.

She smoothly made her way by the side of the little girl, smiling at her as she crouched down to her level.

"Is everything alright, little one? Did you apologize?" the woman's hand squeezed the girl's shoulder warmly.

Rika's only response was a nod.

"Good job. It's alright, I'll help you clean up. Why don't you bring me a broom, hm?" she coaxed the girl with a gentle voice.

Once the girl walked away, she stood up straight again, arching her eyebrow questionably at the arrogant man by her side.

"Is there anything else I could help you with?"

"What, are you working here? If the answer's positive, then you better teach those stupid kids some manners," he huffed.

"You should teach yourself how to behave," she commented right back, her sharp gaze sizing him up and down.

"Take that back. Next time I won't be so nice," the blonde marine grinned.

Oh, and what an ugly grin it was on that fucker's face.

"You dropped my food," a low voice from behind interrupted.

The young woman turned her head towards the voice, confusion written on her face as she made a few steps back, out of his way. It was the green haired man she noticed earlier, now sitting on one of his knees on the cold floor.

Rika came back with a broom almost twice her size, the object quickly taken from her hold by the woman who smiled at her again. While they exchanged glances, the pirate hunter let himself down on one of his knees, taking some of the crushed cookie into his palm.

A sly smile tugged at the woman's lips. A pirate hunter or not, he had more dignity than a marine even in that kneeling position. She was more satisfied to see the little one smiling.

"Your turn," the green-haired man lowered his voice, a dark glare thrown at the astonished marine.

The pirate hunter raised back up and placed the metal plate on the bat, his intimidating height against the arrogant blonde monkey in front of him telling enough.

"Apologize to the girl," he demanded in a relaxed tone.

"Me? It was her fault for bumping into me. The lady should apologize for disrespecting me."

Apologize, my ass, she thought to herself, one step away from bursting out laughing. What did he take her for?

"Do you want a fight or what?" he drew his sword out, a knowing grin curled on his face. "I don't need three swords to fight."

The woman looked down at the little girl who was still by her side, ruffling her hair.

"Why don't you go to your mother, hm? And stay there until I call you back."

Her stern voice didn't give space for arguing; Rika complied, going to the kitchen.

She heard some muttering and next thing she knew, both of the men in front of her had drawn their swords out. Apparently, the green-haired one decided to advance closer to the marine, in an attempt to keep the fight away from the lady.

Hmph. Swordsmen and their unusual gentlemanly behavior.

Squeezing the broom in between her fingers, she moved away, furrowing her eyebrows in a scowl.

"No fights in here, you jerks!" she scoffed.

Expertly, while the other marines attacked one man — how unethical of them — and swords clashed against each other after sharp whistling noises, the woman swept away the cookies on the floor. She faked doing her own duties, like the good employee that she was, throwing careful glances at the fight happening right next to her. If she wasn't careful enough, she could get sliced in two.

"I advise you to get out of the way," she heard the swordsman's voice growling right after he threw a chair into three men, making them fall to the floor.

"You'll destroy the entire place if I do."

Right after saying those words, without anyone noticing in that damned agitation, with a quick movement of the broom, she made one of the marines trip.

Just like the idiots that they were.

"Oh my god, you should be more careful!" she placed a hand over her lips, fake surprise and fear coloring her features.

Who would believe such an innocent being was capable of such malicious actions?

With a strong creak followed by a thud, one marine was thrown into a table that turned the both of them upside down, groans filled with pain vibrating through the tavern.

She was right about them destroying the place.

However, the commotion didn't cause too much distress to the woman still moving the broom around, acting as if she had business with that newly found weapon. It might not be lethal, but she couldn't be spotted while she was intentionally making the marines' jobs harder. In the month she's been working there, she saw more than just one fight and used everything that she saw fit to stop it — be it a broom or a kitchen knife.

Now that she analyzed the fight better, it seemed like the pirate hunter barely even had to draw his sword out of its scabbard, at some point knocking someone's head into the bar. He used his raw strength and the objects surrounding him, thankfully without destroying any of them. The can he threw into another man's stomach seemed so effortless.

That must've hurt, though.

The blonde marine was quickly pulled by the back of his collar, back colliding with the bar, and an angry swordsman towering over him. She didn't hear anything nor paid attention anymore, eyes focused on the tavern that was ruined only half way through.

She sighed after watching both of the men walking out of there, biting her lower lip to hold back a fit of laughter at the marine who stumbled while being dragged by the bounty hunter.

"Why do men always fight in this tavern?" she talked to herself, raising one of the chairs and putting it back in place. "One day of peace is all I want in this port, only one day, and I can't get even that."

She sighed again, only for that long exhale to get stuck in her throat once her eyes fell on the table that was almost sitting in the opposite way rather than how it should be. Once she approached it, stepping by the marine who was trying to get up.

She would never help someone who had less dignity than a dog following some orders from a brainless monkey. Heck, even those animals were smarter.

Instead, she tried to move the table back in its place. Her fingers were so close to gripping at one side of the table before someone appeared at the opposite side. The young man with a straw hat and a square smile she served only a few minutes ago raised the table by himself, carefully arranging it until he was satisfied with its position.

"Thank you so much for the help," she smiled at him. "Be careful where you step, I think a glass also broke."

There were some shreds on the floor somewhere close to the table the young man sat at earlier.

"Thank you for your concern," he smiled just like the first time.

Gosh, has she ever seen such a beautiful soul? His eyes sparkled and the happiness suited him like it did to a little child who has no clue of the harsh world. However, he didn't seem phased or scared by what happened earlier — his hands weren't shaking at all and there was no fear lingering in his stare.

She turned to take the broom and came closer to his companion, who was sitting under the table. She bent her torso to give him a hand, helping him get back to his feet.

"Careful with the glass, check your hands," she warned again.

"I saw what you did there."

She turned towards the straw hat guy, blinking owlishly at him.

"I don't really get what you mean."

She started sweeping the shred of broken glass, not paying attention to the curious and insistent gaze she was receiving.

"You surely do. I'm Monkey D. Luffy and I'm gonna be King of the Pirates!"

Her eyes widened at the second part of his speech, snapping her head back at him. Without even realizing, her fingers were squeezing the broom quite harshly, fingertips going white.

"That's—" she started in a small voice, blinking like an idiot and staring at him.

She's heard that before. She's heard the same dream before and it brought so much suffering.

"That's dangerous," she finally got the courage to continue, still hesitant.

"You're brave for interfering with their fight."

Luffy looked into her eyes as if he could guess the thoughts running through her head, as if he could read her very soul, drinking in her features and reaction.

"You must've seen wrong," she let out a light chuckle, getting a grip on herself. "I'm just clumsy sometimes."

She was thankful she stopped herself from cussing out the Marines, because in less than a second after she finished her sentence, a few other men dressed in white uniforms appeared to help their comrades back to the base. She casted a skeptical eye at each one of them, like silent warnings.

They were pathetic, some of them still stumbling while trying to get up, their swords thrown around carelessly. After they all disappeared from her sight, her shoulders obviously relaxed again.

"I have to admit I hated each second of staying so much with these idiots around," she huffed quietly. "That spoiled child who takes advantage of his father's status was getting on my nerves."

"That's why you helped that swordsman, right?"

Luffy continued with his supposition, not letting go of what he thought he saw — it was the truth, but it would be dangerous to admit.

"I didn't help anyone, really. That was unintentional."

"Don't press it too much, Luffy," his companion's voice trembled.

"Koby, I know what I saw," Luffy pulled his lips into a straight line.

She resumed what she was doing, sweeping at the pieces of glass, seeing almost each one of them in the light seeping through the window.

"If you want to become King of the Pirates, I suppose you also want to get the One Piece, right?"

She was foolish. She was stupid for asking, for getting herself in such business that somehow always ended with too many deaths, with broken dreams. However, something was nagging in her gut. Deep down, it felt so right to ask.

"Yes! I need the Grand Line map for that and I intend on getting from the Marine Base here."

"You're insane, kid," her shoulders shook with her light laughter.

It was a sour sound.

She stopped, leaning her weight into the broom, looking down at the glass in front of her. She shouldn't help them. She should stay in her place if she wanted those young men to survive. What they were trying to do was basically suicide, they just didn't know. Koby seemed to be more fearful, hesitant and so, so shy. Luffy didn't say "us"; he said "I" — the pink-haired guy was not really part of the plan.

Against better judgment, she raised her head at him, promises sparkling in her eyes just like the shreds of glass.

"You can't just ask for that map and I hope you know that. What you want to get yourself into isn't just dangerous, it's like jumping into a suicide mission," her voice strained, pouring all of her hope in her next words: "However, I can help you get inside. Be careful, you have to make sure no one catches you."

"So I was right about you!" Luffy beamed.

"Right about what?"

"That you're brave."

Her lips opened, but no sound came from between them. It was pointless to deny it when he seemed so stubborn about what he saw and believed.

"I think this is a lot to say about someone who's helping you steal secret maps," the side of her mouth curled upwards.

Koby was left astonished. Stealing from the Marines was suicide.

"Listen here, kid," she lowered her voice, stepping closer to whisper. She set her gaze on Luffy's. "You have to get out of there alive, no matter what. Lie if you have to, but I have a feeling you're very bad at that, so be careful. That isn't a place to fool around in. You could get yourself killed in a blink. The Marines are very sneaky."

"There are good Marines and bad Marines," he shrugged. "Maybe I'll meet someone who's willing to help."

"I like your enthusiasm, but that unit base doesn't fit," she shook her head. "Both Captain Morgan and his son aren't the good kind of people."

She squeezed the broom in between her fingers again, an ugly feeling clawing at her throat. She didn't want a kid to die for following his dreams, but freedom was something she always craved.

"I'll tell you a way to get inside the base from underneath. You have to keep your lips sealed — I don't worry about myself, but about the owner and her daughter. I don't want word spreading around."

"You can count on me!" he placed his hand on his heart, as if he sealed the promise there. "Who are you? I want to know who's helping me."

Damned be his sincerity.

"I'll give you my name after you get out of there alive."

She smiled, eyes sparkling with delicious mischief.

"That is a promise. I'll be around the Marine Base and I'll tell you my name after I see you get out of there alive."

That seemed to stir something in Luffy's soul, inhaling with pride. A man of his word, indeed, just like she thought.

"Deal.

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈

Her name left the lips of a scolding mother, even if it wasn't her mom.

"I saw you." The second time she heard tthat same phrase in one day.

Annie patted the tip of her shoe against the floor repeatedly.

"I was just lucky enough not to get myself in trouble," she shrugged.

However, her eyes fell on the floor, guilty about getting caught like a deer in the light.

"You could've gotten yourself in big trouble!" the owner of the tavern raised her voice.

Rika pouted up at her mother, trying to sweeten her reaction.

"She just wanted to help, just like—"

"Rika," this time, the scolded one firmly spoke her name. "Don't take me as an idol. It's true that something could have happened."

The little girl shouldn't worry about such a bloody world just yet and she wanted to help it for as long as possible. Being stubborn was a death sentence, even if she would always get herself into trouble if it meant to stick to her principles.

She'd rather die on her feet than live on her knees.

"Just because this time everything was fine, it doesn't mean next time will be the same," Annie exhaled loudly, frowning.

"There won't be a next time," the young woman sank her chin in her chest. "I should leave these days. Soon enough, word will spread out about my tarot and palm readings. I don't want to cause you any more trouble."

"You little witch," the usual scolding was replaced with a warm nickname.

She raised her head again, struggling to smile. Leaving after she got attached always hurt.

"That man was Roronoa Zoro, wasn't it?" Annie asked, her body suddenly tensing.

"Most probably," she shrugged. "Three swords, three earrings. He put on quite a show, to be honest," the words were followed by a chuckle.

"I see the way your eyes are sparkling. Don't even think about getting into some conversation with such a troublesome person."

"What could do some adventure to a poor soul like me?" she teased.

"It could bring you six feet under."

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈

"I'm no witch, you idiots!" she struggled against the harsh grip the two men had on her arms.

She hissed when one of them sank his fingertips in her upper arms, glaring at him.

Shithead marines.

She continued writhing and struggling, stomping her feet into the ground in an awful attempt to stop them. She intended on keeping her promise after she helped the straw hat sneak into their base. She waited for as long as it was necessary after she gathered her things in a bag that hung around her shoulders. She was supposed to leave that place after she made sure the kid was alright and alive.

"God dammit!" she shouted. "How many times do I have to explain I'm not doing anything wrong?!"

"You're lying to people and receiving money, filthy witch. You're a thief," one of the men commented as they continued walking her away from the port.

"I didn't steal shit!" she snapped.

"Watch out!" she heard a familiar voice.

Instantly, she bent her torso down. The man on her right was punched in the face with so much force he released her grip on her and stumbled into the marine on her left, both of them now on the ground.

She didn't even get enough time to process what was happening, something curling around her waist carefully, but so fast. A yelp left her lips when she realized she was being lifted off the ground, turning her head towards the source.

It was the straw hat's arm. He ate a devil fruit, didn't he?

He was on a boat that was sailing a few meters away in the sea and she was being pulled towards him. She also recognized the pirate hunter from earlier and a woman with orange hair, both of them far too relaxed for what was happening.

That guy was made of rubber!

She recognized Koby who just got to his feet after she got past him, her feet finally touching something solid again. She blinked confused at the straw hat.

"You can't bring everyone that you like on this ship," the swordsman let out a hopeless sigh.

She busted out laughing like a maniac, the colorful and rich sound filling the air. Her shoulders shook and she had to place her hand over her stomach, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. Obviously, her reaction was met with an especially questionable look coming from the swordsman, who most probably thought he got on a ship with another insane human.

"You're insane, kid," she wiped the tears in her eyes with her fingers, still smiling widely.

She hasn't felt such relief in years.

"I guess I gotta fulfill a promise, right?"

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈

[bigtedbear]

" 𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧'𝐬 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 "

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭: 𝐥𝐮𝐨𝐜𝐡𝐚 𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩

content warnings: gay relationship, descriptions of grevious bodily injury, implied self-mutilation/self-harm, male reader, monster x human relationship, hurt/comfort writing, hey this starts out really dark please take care of your mental health, arguments, misunderstood feelings, mermaid courtship, alternate universe where luocha is a traveling doctor who's studying biology and anatomy across the universe blah blah blah, luocha is pretty genuine in this even though i know he is in fact a snake let me idealize for a moment okay, luocha puts a ring on it without realizing he is literally putting a ring on it

full admittance you'll probably find parallels with @/havanilla's merventurine au at the start of this cause it was one of the last things I read on my old tumblr account before it died on me and i fear i DO have brainrot

to add to my earlier warning about this chapter beginning out dark, there will be a marker for the cuter, mermaid courtship section of the fic!! look for a marker like the one below VV

" welcome back caller 🪷! connecting your line as we speak! "

" new contact noted! caller luocha has been added to your phonebook - love, 𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑟 𝑡-19 “

A pained scream ripped through the air.  

It was a shame it couldn’t be distinguished from the sound of other yells and shouting from all over the deck.  In fact, it seemed the anguish was completely drowned out by the noise of an older man beginning to bark orders from the side of the fishing boat.  Gravelly with age and experience, sets and more sets of hands seemed to jump to action, rushing over to that specific side of the deck.  

In the crew’s haste, they didn’t seem to notice they had also woken up the residential cabin.  Things were more than hectic; the experienced crew themselves were in a frenzy.  There was something that demanded urgent attention and it seemed none of the regular passengers were privy to what exactly it was. 

Still, in the curious sea of civilian passengers renting their rooms in the bowels of the ship, a tall blonde head of hair peered over the crowd straight to the source of the fuss.  Over the sea of yellow rain jackets adorning the working fishermen, he caught sight of some kind of reflective surface… what many wrote off as an oversized fish, Luocha continued to strain his eyes at.

Should he have been anyone else, perhaps he wouldn’t have noticed.  But Luocha was a doctor, he was more than familiar with noises of distress; with the scent of blood.  Something in the very core of his body shook with each of the pained and weak motions of an equally pained, weak patient.  The vibrations crept up his spine from the wooden boards of the ship, whispering into his ears. 

Something was wrong. 

Something was terribly wrong. 

Despite the protests of one of the tour guides, urging him to go back to sleep, he rushed towards the scene.  The same pained screams; the sounds of the body on the deck; the reflection of the “oversized fish”, they became clearer and clearer the closer he closed in.

Before he could make it into the crowd of men at work, he was caught by one of their coworkers.  Clad in a yellow raincoat, shadow cast across his face in the rain, the obviously displeased grimace all over his face only further sent Luocha into a state of panic.  A tense grip on his elbow, the man spoke in a language he didn’t understand.  Even if he didn’t understand the words themselves, Luocha was more than smart enough to understand the message the worker was trying to convey.  Before he could be pulled away, he made one last attempt to see what exactly was going on. 

When he did manage to catch a glimpse, he froze. 

Perfect, round tears running down flushed, red cheeks. 

The skin was pulled taut in another scream.  Based on the shaking motion of the face, he could only really come to the conclusion the body was being jerked in every direction possible. 

“Stop… STOP!”  He yanked his elbow out of the man’s grasp, crashing directly into the back of another worker.  In his haste, he shoved the man out of the way only to find his path blocked by even more yellow raincoats.  “You’re only going to worsen the injuries! I’m a doctor!” 

Despite not considering himself to be very physically fit, something about the situation discarded that reality entirely.  An unknown strength washed over him as he forced his way through the clusterfuck of workers trying to wrestle the screamer into place. 

He didn’t understand, Luocha didn’t understand. 

There was an injured crew member on the deck, screaming–what kind of idiot would continue to pull and stress the skin around the wound? Was that why the team leader seemed to screaming with such vigor?  Was he equally concerned about one of his staff suddenly being sent into debilitating agony? 

But no, not even in the slightest.  

Through the crowd, a wet mop of hair thrashing against the backdrop of a barbed fishing net came into view.  The urgency only further sent Luocha wrestling through the crowd of men, all but screaming himself as he watched the injured man on the ground contort his facial muscles in abject horror.  

“Stop it, you’re hurting him!” 

 He could hear his own vocal chords start to tear as he shrieked for the poor victim.  With each passing moment, fear and anxiety seized the doctor in his entirety before he finally managed to part the crowd like the red sea. 

In the end,

he wasn’t faced with a crew member. 

...

A merman. 

Something he’d only heard of in the planet’s folklore. 

It seemed well-known the small surviving population hardly ever ventured out of protected waters for fear of predators. 

What was this one doing so far out…?

With the opportunity making itself known, the unknown merman continued to thrash but harder, lips curling upwards as another shrill cry of agony streaked the night air.  From up close, the doctor could only watch the formerly smooth, unmarred skin become tainted with red.  Washed with your own blood, you looked more similar to some kind of horror movie monster than a person. 

But even in the face of monstrosity, his inner doctor only saw the blown out pupils, the senseless aggression, the fear written all over his patient’s face in their own claret stain.

“You’ll end up killing him, stop, STOP!” 

He completely ignored his own pain as the barbs in the net ripped into the fabric of his pajamas, cutting open his knees when he threw his body on top of yours.  His hands flew around carelessly in an attempt to unlatch the hands that seemed determined to pull at you from every direction.  

At the loss of the hands all over your body, your screams died down into pitiful hyperventilation, curling in on yourself in an attempt to cover the wounds weeping crimson all over the formerly white net.  

Instead of relief, instead of some kind of graditude, it seemed he was only met with friction.

“Oy, blondie, paws off, do you understand how much money you’ve got your hands on right now?” 

The thick accent confused him at first, then the words themselves didn’t seem to compute. 

“Excuse me?” 

You yelped again when one of the men pulled at the net.   The cold metal tore sore flesh in chunks.

“Mermaid scales are priceless.  So are the pearls they cry, we caught the bastard fair and square so. Step. Off.” 

His mind scrambled to understand the sentence, thoughts muddling together in a blender of pain and panic.  “I- I-” 

“You?”  Another crew member chimed in, crossing his arms, “You’ll what, doctor?  You can either get off of him and wrap up your cuts yourself or we’ll drag you off and the barbs can teach you to keep your nose out of other people’s business.” 

“I-”  his breathing picked up drastically, suddenly confronted with such a terrible moral dilemma. 

When prying hands began to make grabby motions for the edges of the ropes, he choked out his final answer.

“I'll pay for him!"

“...”

“...”

“...”

He swept his rain-soaked bangs out of his face, his voice shaking, “You were planning on selling him, right?”  He fumbled with his sleeves, “I make good money, I swear, I-,” he swallowed, “I can afford it.  Just take as much as you want out of the account I used to pay for my cabin.”

“...” 

“...”

Things were a little bit awkward, to say the least. 

Despite an attempt being made to cooperate while you were awake, it seemed the pressure and the mounting stress of nearly dying made it unable for you to accept the fact that Luocha was not, in fact, going to hurt you. 

The attempt to deal with the various injuries littered all over formerly smooth, silky skin was unproductive at best.  In fact, it only created more problems.  Trying to operate while you were largely unreceptive to anything he was saying was by far the worst decision he could’ve made given the circumstances. 

Point blank, he needed to get the barbed hooks out of your skin.  If he didn’t, the wounds would be at increased risk of infection.  After all, based on the cruel treatment he’d seen on deck, he knew the metal was most likely unsanitized.  Doing this while you were awake was easily the worst decision he could've made.

Promising not to hurt you while continually yanking pieces of metal out of your tender flesh was not a good way to build trust. 

"..."

"..."

You poked at the “strange” bowl that’d been set in front of you.  It was some kind of clam-fish hybrid soup. I mean, Luocha was trying to be considerate of your regular diet.  Surely, since you were living out in open waters, you were pretty used to eating fish right?

He, however, failed to realize you weren’t exactly in a spot to ever enjoy the luxuries of cooked food… or soup.  He’d laid out some utensils for you to use on top of that; it was a shame you didn’t know how to use them. 

"..."

"..."

You realized pretty early on that he’d saved you from becoming a victim to death by blood loss.  After all, when you were dropped in a holding tank until the ship arrived at the port, the water went cloudy from the dirt, debris, and blood all over your body.  In your little waist-high tank, he’d done his best to make sure you’d actually survive through the night.

Despite your reservations about him, you did your best not to scream while you were confined to a glorified holding cell.  Nails digging into the glass, biting down hard enough on the towel to tear, you tried your best to stay still while he fished countless little hooks from your back, arms, and chest.  

Removing the large hook in your shoulder was the most painful part of the process for the both of you.  You, for obvious reasons.  The hook made a clean cut through the muscle--scraping up against the bone--by the time you were awake enough to realize you were wrapped up in a barbed net.  Luocha, on the other hand, was the one that had to deal with the struggle while trying to complete a very tricky operation.  

Eventually, the problem dealt with itself when you passed out.  Really, he should’ve sedated you to start with, and he cursed at himself for not thinking of it sooner.  After you went out, he did his best to stitch everything up–hell, he wrapped you up in enough bandages to look like a mummy. 

But, since the two of you actually arrived on the island, there wasn’t so much as a word shared from either party. 

You woke up in a little bathtub, in a little bathroom, feeling like your arms were falling off and you couldn’t breathe because of how tight all of the bandages were wrapped around you. Eventually the giant bandages changed to smaller ones attached with some medical tape.  The only bulky one left was the one wrapped around your shoulder. 

"..."

"..."

With some trepidation, you grabbed at one of the fishtails sticking out of the mystery liquid, digging a finger in between the meat and the ribs to peel it off the bone.  Carefully, you used one of your freshly trimmed nails to remove the thick, scaly skin, then biting off a chunk to chew and swallow.  

The longer you stared at the bowl, the more confused you became. 

Yes, you knew how to eat a fish. 

Yes, you knew how to eat a mussel. 

No, you didn’t know what to do with whatever else was in the bowl.  

You paused eating when the man sitting across from the bathtub cleared his throat.  He made a vague gesture towards your lap, “Would you…?”

‘...mind if I showed you how to eat a bowl of soup?’ 

Without much hesitation, you offered up your meal again, much more interested in the chunk of fish in your hand.  Biting off another piece, you drank in the pleasant familiarity in just having some tilapia for once.  

He picked up the spoon. Deciding not to embarrass you further, he decided to taste test the food himself instead of trying to feed you. He let the silver spoon clatter back into the bowl, passing it over to you again. Despite the clear demonstration he’d given you, you opted to pick at one of the mussels hiding underneath the broth. 

“...”

“...”

He cleared his throat again, seemingly averting eye contact as he stared at the tiled walls. 

You diverted your attention from your bowl back to the blonde doctor. 

“I don’t mean to be rude or pry in any way,” he swallowed, “but what exactly were you doing so far from protected waters?"

You didn’t seem surprised in the slightest by his question, grabbing at the other fish tail in the bowl, “Smuggling and poaching.”  

He tilted his head curiously.

“Protective waters have attendants to track general pod health, they have the authority to temporarily remove merfolk from the water to do routine health checks."  You finally wrapped your hand around the spoon awkwardly, bringing some broth up to your lips. "Smugglers get jobs as attendants cause only tagged mermaids are considered protected.” You wiggled one of your finned ears, your left ear. Notably, there was a small tear in one of the fins. “It only takes a couple minutes for an attendant to catch a mermaid, sedate them, get them into a vehicle, remove their tag and throw them out into the right spots for a couple grand.” 

“I see.” 

You hummed, finally bringing the soup up to your lips, “Speaking of, how much did you end up having to pay for me?”

"..."

"..."

“Excuse me?” Luocha’s hands rested in his lap. 

“How much did you end up paying for me?”  You picked up another mussel, “I’m pretty good about keeping up with the price of scales and pearls.  I know you bought me as some kind of pity project, but I'm pretty eager to go back out to open waters.  Just name your price and I can start trying to pay off the debt.” 

The doctor blinked a couple times. “Oh… oh my god, absolutely not!”  He shook his head, bringing his hands up in front of his chest defensively, “There is no need to pay me back in the slightest.  Please, just rest well and remain healthy.  That would be the best payment.”

“What’s this?” 

He rolled the small iridescent pearl between his gloved fingers. 

“It’s a pearl.” 

He cracked a smile at that. It was gone as quick as it arrived as he brought the little treasure to his face to take a closer look.  “Well yes, but where did you get this? Did you have it stashed on you somewhere?”

You twirled your finger in a circle on the surface of the water. “No,” absentmindedly you observed the little whirlpool it made, “I made it.” 

He blinked a couple of times, hand dropping back to his side. “Pardon?” 

You finally looked up from the surface of the water, “I made it.” 

He cocked his head to the side, “You… made a pearl?” 

You looked at him, bored, “Well, yeah, did you not know mermaids make pearls?”

He looked from you, to the pearl, and then back at you.  “No… I’m afraid I didn’t know.”  His palm closed into a fist around the pearl, “How?” 

“...hm?”

He gestured towards his closed hand, “How did you make it?” 

You gave a huff, “Well, you’ve seen me make them before.”  

He frowned, “I… have?”

‘-and I didn’t notice?’

You nodded, shifting around in the bathtub to try and stretch your long tail out a little bit.  "The night I got caught on the boat-" Your jaw tensed, a sudden pang of soreness shooting up from your extremities. "-they were all over the deck, there were a bunch in the little tank they had me in.” 

His frown only deepened as he did his best to recall, “I don’t think I remember seeing them…? Does your blood crystalize into them or something of the sort?” 

You rested your head on the porcelain of the tub, bringing your arms up to cushion your cranium.  “Tears,” you murmured, “Merfolk tears turn into pearls.” 

‘Ah… so that’s why you mentioned there being so many on the ship.’

But then it hit him. 

“Why were you crying?” 

You shrugged, “Most mermaids in protected waters can cry on command.  We get a lot of tourists that give us gifts, sometimes if we’re interested we’ll give them a pearl in return.” 

He nodded like he understood, but suddenly the beautiful gem felt heavy in his fist.  He opened his hand and offered it back, “As beautiful as it is, I don’t wish to see you shedding any tears while you’re under my care.” 

You pushed his outstretched hand away, “Well, I already made it.  There’s no use trying to return it.” 

“Still, I feel terrible receiving a gift with such painful origins,” he sat down on the stool that’d become his usual spot.  “I’m a doctor. My goal is to make sure you’re in the least amount of pain possible.” 

“You should feel honored, you’re really the first person I’ve ever given a pearl to,” you raised your head from its spot on your arms, “I usually only gave them to little kids that didn’t bring me gifts so I’d give them something.”  You sank further into the water in the shallow tub.

“My concern is why you believe you should be giving me gifts in the first place,” he crossed his left leg over his right, scooting in closer, “I’ve already told you that taking care of you has always been of my own volition.  It is quite literally my job.  If you’re giving this to me as a gift and not repayment, I might be more inclined to accept it.” 

You huffed,  “Well, I guess you caught me.” 

His brows furrowed, “So I was right, you’re trying to pay back a debt again.” 

“...”

“...”

“...”

This time, he sighed.  “I’ve already told you, your health and wellbeing are both priceless.  I would never ask a patient I forced into care to pay me any sum of money-”

“That’s what I don’t understand,” The water rippled when you sat up suddenly, “Why don’t you want to accept any kind of payment? I’m tired of talking to you as property and owner.  You bought ownership, legally I’m your property. I don’t want to be your property.” 

“You aren’t my property-” He quipped, expression growing displeased.

“But I am,” you cut him off.  “You signed paperwork, you exchanged a certain sum of money.  Even if you thought I couldn’t hear you doesn’t mean I didn’t.” You crossed your arms across your chest, “I still heard the captain of the ship talking about sale prices with you.  I know I was considered a higher quality product, I know I was expensive.”

The doctor opened his mouth; and closed it and opened it again.  He struggled to find the correct words to use. “I didn’t consider that an exchange for ownership of you, I considered that to be the price of your wellbeing.  I’ve never considered you to be anything but an equal to me.” 

You drew your lips into a tight line, “Well, if I was an equal, you’d let me contribute to the cost somehow.  You wouldn’t treat me like some helpless baby.”  You gestured to his closed palm, “The pearl in your hand is priceless, sealing a handful of them would recuperate the money you wasted-”

Luocha held up his hand, “Stop-”

But you insisted, “Hell, if I ripped a couple of scales out you could more than pay for me.  You’d have enough money to buy another sorry sack of shit to take care of-”

“Don’t EVER-” he cut you off aggressively, “EVER, suggest such ludacris things to me again.  I refuse to even think about it.” 

“..."

Luocha shook his head, getting his gloves wet when he reached into the water to hold your hands in his own, “I would never ask you to do something like that to yourself.  I would never ask you to hurt yourself to please me and I would never ask you to hurt yourself because you needed my help.”  He gave your palms a gentle squeeze, “You did not ask to be put in the position you’re in now,  I am the one that chose to do this and I will be the one to set the price on my help; that price-” he paused, making sure you were looking him in the eyes, “-will always be no price at all.”   He pushed the pearl back into your hands.  “Give this pearl to one of the children that visit the waters after you’ve healed up in my stead, yes?” 

“It’s not exactly how I remember it.” 

You squirmed against the sensation of the water, arms still looped around Luocha’s neck.  

“Any discomfort?” The doctor asked, “Tell me if anything hurts.”

“No, no, nothing like that,” You shuffled around to try and make yourself comfortable.  You did your best to find the familiar rhythm of the waves, but your tail felt as useless as it had the entire time you’d been confined to the bathtub.  “It’s… cold.” 

Luocha nodded... even though he couldn't quite understand.  “If you aren’t straining any of your injuries, you can hang on for as long as you need to.”

You mumbled, trying to draw your elbows closer to your chest, “I’m not.” 

“...”

“...”

It’d only been a week since the last time you’d tried to repay your imaginary debt to Luocha.  Things got… less tense between the two of you. 

You didn’t put up a fuss when he put some ointment on the scars that formed all over your skin.  You didn’t squirm when he unwrapped your shoulder bandage.  You’d usually bide your time silently in the bathtub.  Mostly, you’d nap.  But that got old quickly, especially since a bathtub isn’t the most convenient spot for sleeping. 

Luocha could tell you were bored out of your mind all on your lonesome. To satiate this, he’d usually sit with you in the bathroom and try to teach you things like how to play cards.  You were a little apprehensive with him, like you always were, but it seemed you opened up to him a lot more towards the end of your stay in his temporary residence.

You’d become a pretty competent blackjack player all things considered.

You opened up more and more about your life down below.  Usually, you’d be afraid to tell anyone about that information.  Smugglers often targeted specific pods if one of the products happened to be particularly pricy.  But Luocha wasn't at any risk, was he? 

“...”

“...”

Eventually, as the water started to feel more natural on your skin, you let your grip loosen from around his neck.  As the welcoming embrace of the ocean seemed to envelop more and more of your body, you could feel the former tension in your muscles start to melt away. 

You laid yourself horizontal to the surface of the water, tentatively starting to create your own ripples in the vast expanses of blue.  Maybe it didn’t feel exactly as you remembered, but the gentle pressure of the cool, cool sea against your skin felt like home. 

Your arms splayed out in the waves like an angel, basking in the familiarity of it all.  “You can let go now.” 

Slowly, surely, pale arms lowered you into the arms of the same waters you’d been in a little over two months ago.  You shocked yourself when you chased after his hands. Still, as slick as an eel, you slid away from him into the open ocean, finding a boyish glee in the pure ecstasy of true freedom.  

You took off like a little jet, head first into the deep end. 

Luocha could only really watch with a small smile while you explored the vast array of little treasures hidden beneath the horizon line.  

It felt like only fifteen minutes had passed when you re-emerged from beneath the ocean blue, but to your shock, the sun was starting to set and Luocha was off on dry land, wringing the water out of his hair.  

In all of your fun, it seemed you’d forgotten about that man who’d made all of this possible for you. 

“...”

You pursued him onto the sand, watching him characteristically tilt his head to the side to express his curiosity.  You pushed your own wet mop of hair out of your face with your hand, suddenly feeling a little less confident in your choices.  Despite your trepidation, you felt you at least owed him this much. 

That didn't make it any easier.

“I-” you swallowed, curling in on yourself, “What if I wanted to give you a gift? If it wasn’t some kind of repayment?” 

He smiled, flipping a soaked lock of hair over his shoulder, “As long as you aren’t lying to me about repayment, then I would gladly accept.”

You suddenly felt a new wave of confidence wash over you, your chest puffing up a little bit, “Well, I have a gift for you.” Even though you failed to notice your little finned ears wiggling in excitement, Luocha did not. 

You reached up to your right ear, unhooking the beautiful golden earring that’d you'd been wearing since you’d been thrown out of protective waters.

His eyes widened.   

“It-” You offered the hoop to him, “It was my mom’s.”

Luocha blinked a couple times, staring at the bangle before looking back up at your face instead.  

“Well?  You said you’d accept it if it was a gift.”  You pushed it into his face, feeling a red hot flush wash over your features, “This is a gift; from me to you, no strings attached.” 

He carefully took the thin gold loop in his fingers.  He noticed the signs of oxidation and the water damage. 

It was already far less valuable than the pearl you’d tried to offer him.

Yet its sentimental value was unrivaled. 

“...”

“...”

“Did... your mother like jewelry?”

You shrugged, looking away from him, “Yeah, she had a lot of it from my dad.” 

Luocha nodded.  “Well, did she have a favorite kind of jewelry?” 

At this, you paused.  “I mean… I guess she did.  She wore a lot of rings… why?” 

“Well, since this is a gift I won’t refuse it,- Luocha slid one of the golden bands wrapped around his fingers off,  “-but if you can’t have her earring anymore, then you can at least have a piece of jewelry your mother would’ve liked to wear.”

You felt your face transition from an embarrassed pink to a much deeper red.  “You… you know what you’re offering me, r-right?” 

He didn’t respond in the way you expected.  Instead of his usual confusion, he pushed the ring towards you again with one hand.  The other went to work, looping the clasp of the earring through a piercing that was just a little bit too close to closing.  

It felt like your brain was melting.

‘Is he… flirting with me?’ 

You took the golden ring between your fingers, watching him use his newly freed hand to further force the earring through the piercing hole. You could only feel the heat creep up your neck to your ears; fuck, it felt like you were going to burn alive on the sand. 

When he finally got it in, he flipped a chunk of wet hair over his shoulder.  He framed the golden hoop with his palm.  Playfully, he asked, “How does it look?” 

‘...’

‘He’s definitely flirting.’ 

You immediately ripped your gaze from his face to the ring that suddenly felt like a hundred pounds in your palm. 

‘...What fingers do humans usually put the ring on again?’

Shakily you slid the golden ring onto your left hand, examining the way it glinted in the light of the sunset.  

‘...holy shit, did I just get married?’ 

“[name]?” 

You blinked a couple times, suddenly ripping your gaze away from the shiny metal.  “Sorry, sorry.” 

He chuckled at your expense, enjoying the little fluttering of your ears everytime he seemed to catch your attention again.  “Thank you for the gift, I’ll cherish it dearly.” 

You nodded. 

“...”

“...”

The silence was interrupted with a quiet sniffle. 

“...[name]?”

You aggressively wiped the tear off your face, watching the consequent pearl roll across the grains of sand.  “H-Hey, you can’t just give me this ring and leave-” You took a deep breath, “-That’s not fair, that’s not fair at all.” 

He was a little taken aback at the sudden resurgence of emotion, “Would…” he paused.  He thought it over before tentatively putting a hand on your shoulder, “Would it help if I stayed a little longer?” 

You shook your head, putting your hand over the one on your shoulder to hold it between both of your own hands.  “You have to promise to visit me a lot.  It’s going to take me a long time to find my family, so if you don’t visit I’m going to be lonely.” 

He, once again caught off guard, nodded, “O-Of course!” His own cheeks tinted a pale pink. 

“You promise?” 

He nodded again, this time using his other hand to clasp your hand in both of his.  “I promise I’ll visit.”

a side note for this upcoming section: i did a lot of world-building for this fic behind the scenes, the current planet they're on is largely submerged beneath the waters and they live on a bunch of island nations. To link up with that idea, my idea of the mermaid smuggling industry is to do with the concept of foreigners coming in and destroying local ecosystems. (Colonization)

Long story short, the planet is loosely based on Polynesian Islands so I chose Māori names for our supporting cast but keep in mind I am FAR from an expert and I mean literally no disrespect at all to anyone at all. Only the names are Māori in nature because I feel like no matter how much research I do, I would be unable to capture the essence of the rich culture of New Zealand. I'm a little gay fanfic writer I have not done nearly enough research to claim I know ANYTHING, I just thought it'd be cool and help with world-building in case people want a part-two or something

“What’s got you so worked up?” 

“Shut the fuck up Iarere, this is like the seventh time in the same hour.” 

Your younger brother held his hands up defensively, “Well, things got boring around here without you!”  He let himself fall towards the ground next to the boulder you’d splayed out all the little pieces of gold you’d managed to scrounge up.  “You manage to make it back from outside of protective waters and instead of hating everything and everyone, you’re suddenly getting all buddy buddy with the tourists trying to get some trinkets.  I know you’re old but are you really getting that desperate?” 

You frowned, “I’m not that old.” 

Iarere rested his face on the cool surface of the rock, prodding at one of the particularly flashy necklaces.  “You’re old to me.”  

Your frown deepened. Not just because your brother was calling you old, but because Luocha’s weekly visit was coming up and you hadn’t managed to gather up nearly as much as you would’ve wanted.   For your kind, caring, doctor husband who was already well off, a few necklaces and a handful of rings and earrings wouldn’t be anywhere near enough to woo him.  “I guess I am getting towards the end of the usual age people get married at.” 

The younger man nodded, humming, “Yeah, so do you have anyone in mind?” 

You bit your lip.  

I mean, yes, you were married. 

But it felt inauthentic if you didn’t present your husband with some kind of dowry first. 

Yes, Luocha only presented you with one of his old rings, but he also paid a hefty sum to rescue you from certain doom.  He also nursed you back to good health, refused to take any payment for any of the medical treatments or the food that’d been wasted making sure you’d retain your strength throughout your recovery. 

In your mind, maybe human dowries were just a little bit different. 

Despite opening your mouth to voice your dissent, your little brother jumped up at the opportunity to tease you.  “So you do have someone you’re thinking about!” 

“I-” 

“What are they like?” Iarere gripped your shoulders, tearing your attention away from your inner dilemma.  “What do they look like? Do I know them?”  He gasped, shaking you back and forth and he demanded to know, “Did you meet them while you were outside?!” 

You gripped at his shoulders in return, “I didn’t say I had anyone in mind!” 

“...”

“...”

He pursed his lips, “Yeah, I’m not buying it.” 

You groaned, bringing your hands up to your face.

He only got more excited, leaning in way too close for comfort as he squealed, “So I was right?!” 

“Right about what?” 

Your eyes darted over to the side, watching one of the few friends you’d managed to retain at your grown age.  “Thank the gods, Akahata, get Iarere off me before he gives me whiplash.” 

He hummed, “Well, I’m more interested in what exactly you guys were talking about before.”  You watched as his eyes flitted from you and your brother to all the precious metal and gems you’d laid out.  “Actually don’t tell me, let me guess.”  He pointed at the rock, “You’re setting up a dowry, but you’re upset because you know no amount of jewelry would ever get anyone in the pod to consider settling down with your ugly mug.”

“HAH!” 

Your ears fluttered in irritation.  “That’s a horrible guess.” 

Akahata shrugged, “Well, I mean, your mug’s only ugly cause you frown all the time.  If you actually made an effort to smile more, you’d probably have a lot more people that’d be willing to accept you with no dowry.” 

Your frown tugged at the corners of your lips as you massaged your temples, “For your information, I’m making a dowry cause I already got married.” 

“...”

“...’

“...”

“You WHAT?!” 

Iarere’s fists clenched even tighter around your biceps, “You told me you lost mom’s earring, not that you got married-” 

“It’s a long story-” You started, 

“Not long enough to not tell either of us!” Your best friend screamed in abject horror.  “The moment Ngaio and I started courting each other I told you immediately-”  You grimaced when he pushed your brother out of the way to be the one to shake you back and forth, “-and you get married and you don’t tell me until afterwards?!” 

“It wasn’t planned! I didn’t even realize he was courting me until he gave me his ring-” You countered, face lighting up pink.

“So it’s a him…” Iarere mumbled, putting his hand to his chin.  His expression lit up as the pieces started clicking together in his head.  “Is that where you’re going tomorrow?!” 

“YOU’RE GOING TO MEET HIM TOMORROW?!” 

You were growing more overwhelmed by the minute, averting eye contact.  “Yeah, so what? We’ve been meeting up every week while I was looking for you guys.  Is it weird for husbands to spend time together?” 

Akahata abruptly let go of you, leaving red imprints of his hands on your arms.  “That’s not that problem, that problem-” he paused for dramatic effect, “-is that you’re planning on meeting up with him after returning and you’re not even telling us who he is!” 

Iarere put a hand over his heart, feigning his disappointment as he let himself sink into the sand below.  “I think I’m going to faint.” 

You sighed, “Well-”

Akahata jabbed an accusatory finger in your chest again, “Is he even good looking enough for you? Is he any good at providing? What was his dowry like?  What pod is he even from?!”

“He’s not from a pod-”

Your brother hummed, “So is he a lone wanderer out beyond the boundaries of protected waters saving pretty mermen he wants to marry?” 

Your face twisted into one of disgust, “Keep your fantasies to yourself.” 

Iarere huffed, “Well, what else am I supposed to think when you say he’s not from a pod?  He obviously has so be some kind of lone wolf, PLUS you got married before you made it back.” 

Akahata put a contemplative hand under his chin, “I mean he has a point.” 

You shook your head, “He’s a human.” 

“...” 

“...” 

“...”

“You’re joking.” 

“I’m not.” 

“You’re joking…” 

You held up your hand, gesturing towards the ring on your finger. 

“Oh my god, you’re not actually joking.” 

Your younger brother squealed, “Oh my god this is like something out of all those movies on the surface! Tell me all about it!” 

You frowned, pushing through both your peers to make it back to your makeshift table top.  “He’s… a doctor, but he was working as a trader on a big ship.   He was there the night I got caught and he ended up buying me off the boat and he patched me up and released me.” 

Your best friend sighed, “Only you can make a story that romantic sound like a business deal.” 

Iarere furrowed his brows, “Wait, wait, wait, when did he propose?” 

“Well-” You fumbled over your words, “I caught feelings and I thought I might as well start the courtship process-” 

“YOU made the first move?!” 

“Shut up!” You pushed your overly eager younger brother’s face away, “I didn’t know if he even knew about mermaid courting so if I was going to start courting him, I had to do it then.”

“...go on.”

You sighed, “I gave him mom’s old earring, but instead of just taking it, he gave me one of the rings he was wearing.” You covered your face, feeling another wave of crimson wash everywhere from your neck to the tips of your ears.  You still couldn’t get the memory of him showing off the earring out of your fucking head. “I mean- I- I even asked if he knew what offering me his ring meant and he just put it in my hand.” 

Your younger brother kicked around on the sand eagerly, waving his hands around excitedly.  “That is actually one of THE most romantic proposals I’ve ever heard of!” 

Akahata crossed his arms, “Damn, I feel like mine was lacking.” 

You huffed, “Well, Ngaio is still your wife.” 

“And whatever his face is still managed to wife you--of all people--up.”

“Touche.”

“Oh wow, you brought more than you usually do.” 

Luocha chuckled behind his hand, his own little bag of purchased trinkets hanging loosely at his side. 

You hummed, thumbing over the beautiful glistening stone of a diamond necklace you’d managed to get off of a rather infamous regular.  “You’re one to talk.” 

He gave a small grunt of exertion as he sat next to you on the sand, letting the bag fall to the side, “You’ve got me there.”  He couldn’t help the pleasant swell of warmth in his face as you gestured for him to turn around. 

I mean, maybe you weren’t the best at communicating what you were feeling or what you wanted from him, but you’d been getting better.  Instead of just grunting a yes or no to the questions he’d ask, you’d actually make time for some conversation with him.  Be it from your annoying younger brother to the changes in the pod since you’d returned, it seemed you shared what little woes you had with Luocha.  

You also seemed to share endless amounts of little golden treasures with him.  From old, worn gold, oxidized iron, anything really that you could find, you provided it to him and put it on him with the most delicate touch your rough, scarred hands could muster.  Maybe it was nothing, maybe it was something.  He couldn’t control the way his heart sped up whenever you leaned in to help him put on a new pair of earrings you’d gifted him.  He surmised gift giving was some kind of love language that was common among merfolk.  Perhaps you’d also enjoy it if he brought you gifts of equal value! 

Still, the pounding in his heart was not helped when you’d started smiling at him. 

Everytime he managed to catch one of the rare glimpses of your smile–even worse when you’d laugh–he almost felt like he was looking at something forbidden.  Something he wasn’t worthy of, right in front of him.  For someone who had been through so much, you really opened up to him remarkably quickly after you’d been released.  Perhaps before release you’d been scared of being sold off? The familiar feeling of the waters must’ve don wonders to make you relax this much. 

Even worse when the physical affection began.  It started as simple as reaching out to the side of his face to brush the hair away from his ear so you could catch sight of the golden hoop he’d taken to wearing.   It transitioned to taking his gloves off so you could look at the rings you ended up gifting him.   Before he could really process how quickly the two of you were moving, you were pressed up against him at every opportunity.  

He knew it was natural for merfolk to not wear clothing, but did you have to have such a muscular chest? 

Even now, as you fumbled with the clasp of the absolutely beautiful diamond necklace, you wrapped an equally muscular aquatic tail around his leg.  He didn’t exactly know if this was normal between merfamily-could he call them that?--, being overly affectionate.   Even if it felt like a little more than just normal bonding, he did his best to still the pounding of his heart when your fingers brushed his hair out of the way so you could make sure the gem was oriented correctly.  

Trying his hardest to quell the tide of warmth surging up to the tips of his ears, he put a hand over his erratic heartbeat.  He prayed to the Aeons above you couldn’t feel it as your chest pressed against his back.  

You wrapped your arms snug around his torso, pulling him further into your stomach.  Resting your chin on top of his blonde hair, you found the gloved hand resting over his heart to hold in your own.   The two of you let the silence hang in the air for a moment. 

“...”

“...”

You gave a quiet huff before you moved your chin from on top of his head to bury itself into the crook of his neck.  As his fingers interlocked with yours, he found himself looking at all the gold rings he’d adorned your fingers with.  Each and every one, he could put a time and day to. 

But then, his eyes landed on your ring finger. 

“Oh, you still wear that old thing?”

“...hm?”

You glanced down at your hand, raising a brow.  His finger was tracing over the ring he’d exchanged when he was releasing you back into the open water.

“You still wear the same earring I gave you,” you murmured, flicking it with your freehand.  “I’ve given you countless pairs of earrings since, yet even when you wear one stud, you’ll always wear the same one every time I see you.” 

His chest rumbled with a bout of laughter, “I suppose you’re right.”  He perked up suddenly, “Oh, that reminds me, speaking of this earring…” He reached towards the rather large bag of gifts he’d brought with him.  He threw a few of the boxes of gold ornaments he’d purchased before finally fishing the box he was looking for out of the bottom.  “I went shopping and when I saw this pair, I simply knew you’d love it.” 

You hummed, looking at the little navy blue box in his hand.

He made quick work of the bow wrapped around the holding case, nimble fingers peeling open the little box before he presented you with his gift on their signature velvet cushion. It looked like… 

…a replica of your mother’s earrings. 

He offered them up to you with a bashful smile, watching in silent amusement when your ears flicked back and forth in some kind of excitement. 

Delicately, gently, you picked up one of the hoops and twirled it around your fingers. 

“...”

“...”

“...Well? Do you like it?”

You didn’t respond, reaching up to your right ear to remove the little stud you’d chosen to wear to this outing.  Fidgeting with the clasp of the loop, you threaded it with a calculated ease through your piercing.   

“I like it.” 

He clasped his hands together, “Good, I’m more than glad.” 

“...”

“...”

“She would’ve loved to meet you.” 

“Hm?”

You paused, “My mother, I mean,” Your thumb fidgeted with the back of the earring.  “She always wanted to see her sons get married, but she passed before she could.” 

Luocha blinked.  

“Pardon?” 

You tilted your head to the side, “My mother; she would’ve loved to meet you.” 

“No, no,” Luocha could feel the deep claret paint his face a messy red as he scooted to face you, “What did you mean by seeing her sons get married?”

“...

…Did you not know?” 

Luocha blinked. 

“We’re married.” 

Another blink. 

“You… Is that why…?” He gestured towards the gifts strewn across the sand.  He looked back towards his own bag of gifts. 

‘Oh for crying out loud-’

“I-” he cleared his throat, “I apologize, I seem to have… entered this marriage under false pretenses.”  He put his hands on his temples, “How- Where- When exactly did this happen?”

You hummed, “When you let me back out into the water.  When I gifted you my mother’s earring, that was the signal I wanted to start courting you.  When you gift something back, that’s an officiation of marriage.” 

He coughed into his hand, trying to think through this situation logically. 

Okay, so he accidentally got married.

What the fuck. 

The train of thought seemed to end there. 

…

He was, however, plagued with another train of thought. 

‘Well, you have been making eyes at him for a few months now.’ 

…

Those thoughts were not helping.  

“...”

“...”

“If you want to end the marriage, it’s as simple as saying so,” you added, “I thought you knew what my intentions were-”

“NO!”

Luocha covered the bottom half of his mouth.  “I’m fine with the arrangement as is, but it appears human marriage and merfolk marriage are officiated in very different ways.” 

Your brows furrowed. 

“...”

“...”

“...Are you saying you want to officiate the marriage as humans would?”

The tips of Luocha’s ears burned with embarrassment.  “I-” 

You held one of his hands in yours, eyes seemingly boring holes into his face,  “Whatever it is, as long as you want to do it, I will do it to the best of my ability.” 

Any complaints were silenced when he was confronted with such sincerity.  “Well…”

You waited patiently, folding your hands in your lap.  

Finally, it seemed your “husband” made up his mind.  

“Close your eyes.” 

You paused, seemingly surprised, but nonetheless your eyes fluttered shut moments after. 

Luocha urged himself to breathe, flexing and unflexing his hands.  

He leaned forward, closing his eyes as he…

…planted an innocent peck on your lips.

there's a note on the side of the phone booth, read it?

" idk how to describe it but now being on the other side of this, i'm feeling something similar to post nut clarity "

first post since losing literally everything on my first account yay !!

yes guys, luocha and his mermaid husband were openly cuddling on the beach for months and he's wondering "is he into me or am i bro-zoned"

that being said, losing my tumblr has now forced me to realize how many people genuinely like my writing hey guys I went scrolling through user kamisatoelogy's blog to look for their modern ayato fic and i found out someone dedicated time and effort into archiving my works???? and you guys went looks for me????

i fr feel like getting on my hands and knees and thanking everyone for all their support and love over this process and apologizing for scaring you guys so bad

you guys are so sweet and so many of you have been so helpful in getting my blog back up and running again :((

i started drafting my fics in google docs to make sure it isn't all GONE if i get shit on again so this chapter is brought to you by font: unica one, it was 27 pages total (i am insane)

shout out to Chappell Roan cause she really put me in my tunnel vision work zone while i was writing this

if u guys r looking for a writing hack, i trained myself like a sleeper agent to start writing when i play songs on hour loop it puts me in a work rut

- love, operator t-19

[theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction]

Imagine Sanji jumping overboard at the last second because he refuses to sail without you…

The ship was leaving. You smiled as you waved goodbye truly happy for Sanji’s next adventure despite feeling a heartache in the uncertainty of seeing him again. Zeff and the rest of the cooks had returned to the Baratie but you chose to stay until the Going Merry was no longer in sight.

As you watched, you saw heard a distant shout and a dark figure falling overboard into the water with a splash. There were a few more muffled noises but the ship was too far away to discern it.

You noticed something in the water moving your way so you lowered to kneel on the pier. The visual suddenly disappeared and you scanned the area to try and catch sight of it again. When you couldn’t find anything, you convinced yourself that you were seeing things - that is, until you looked more directly below.

Sanji’s head broke through the surface of the water, blue eyes sparkling against the reflection of the sea. His blonde hair wet and sticking to his face while his darker roots peeked through. It took you a moment to realise that his shirt was absent leaving his skin on display with droplets of water rolling off to rejoin its source.

Lifting his arm, he brought his hand to cup your cheek. He lowered your head to meet his, thumb dropping to your lips and slowly dragging it down while leaving a light trail of sea water. You gripped the edge of the pier with the hope to not fall in after him but Sanji was intoxicating.

He pushed himself a little higher until his mouth was in line with yours and took no hesitation in claiming it. He was gentle, lips warm despite being drenched in the cold sea. Unable to help yourself from humming in bliss, you felt Sanji smile through the kisses at the sound.

Your hands were slowly losing their hold on the wooden planks wanting nothing more than to grab onto him and dive in. Sensing the temptation, Sanji carefully guided one of your hands to his shoulders - and then the other. He was more stable than Zeff’s rickety boardwalk anyway.

Very slowly, he moved back, further into the ocean while still connected to your mouth taking you with him. You let him pull you out to sea and as your chest touched the cold water, you let your legs fall in as well. You tightened your arms around his shoulders and drew your whole body against him until your legs wrapped around his waist.

Sanji had an arm around you while the other was lovingly against your neck. His legs doing all the work in keeping you both high enough above the waters surface to breathe through the love he was pouring into you.

It was unspoken but you both knew that he wasn’t travelling the vast sea without you. He couldn’t.

A/n: I just woke up and this is what my brain blurt out - I have no regrets. Used the song Sand by Dove Cameron to help the creativity.

Also, 3,000 followers? I have to do something special for this! Love you all so much x

Masterlist here (for more One Piece)

[ladycaramelswirl]

It Happened in Texas

Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader ❤︎ Chapter 1: Apparently you have a magnet for shitty bosses

series masterlist

A/N: For plot purposes, Haley is not in the picture, but Jack does appear later in the story. Also I gave Strauss some of Linda Barnes’s personality so she’s really annoying :)

Tags/Warnings: mentions of violence typical to Criminal Minds. This becomes a comedy in chapter 2, but chapter 1 is very world/character-buildy, sorry 😭 It gets funnier I swear 🤡

The case in this chapter is loosely based on s3e8.

word count: 2k

Enjoy! 🤍

❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎

“Absolutely not”.

The dark-haired man tries to rein in his barely concealed anger at his boss, who, honestly, you weren’t exactly a huge fan of right now either. He gestures to you.

“I don’t know anything about her. It’s my job to decide whether someone is a good fit for the team”, he scowls. Frankly, you’re impressed that he hasn’t exploded.

“Agent Hotchner, I have hired her because I think she’s perfectly capable of doing the job”. 

You swallow a scoff. Sure. That’s why.

“My decision is final. And you have a case to get to”, Strauss snaps.

Agent Hotchner glares at her as she walks away. Then he turns his stare to you. 

“We’re leaving for a case in 10 minutes. Do you have your go bag?”, he asks, not unkindly.

“Yes sir.”

He nods and walks towards the BAU bullpen. You follow him. 

“I trust you’ll keep this altercation between us”, he tells you. “I don’t want the team to be distracted”.

“Yes, sir”.

“Just call me Hotch.”

“Yes, s- Hotch”.

He’s being pretty nice given the situation he’s been put in. But you wonder, not for the first time today, if you should have turned down this job.

————————————

15 minutes ago

“Come in”.

You step into the office of the blonde woman you’d interviewed with. She had been quite pleasant then.

“Assistant Director Strauss”, you greet her.

“Agent. Take a seat. I’d like to discuss some things before I introduce you to your unit chief”.

You wonder what the unit chief is like. You’d heard great things about Aaron Hotchner from your former colleagues. 

“As I’m sure you know this position at the BAU is a highly coveted opportunity”, she starts.

“Yes ma’am”.

“I’d like you to be comfortable here, so I hope we can work together to make that happen”.

Oh?

“Thank you ma’am. I’ll do my best.”

“Excellent! I’ll be expecting an additional personal report for all of your cases.”

“I’m sorry?”

She smiles at you like you’re stupid.

“Agent Hotchner might run a tight ship, but it’s my job to make sure it runs smoothly”, she tells you. “So I just need you to give me details about your cases. No need to mention it to Agent Hotchner, just write the report and send it straight to me.”

“You want me to report on the team? Without telling them?”

This was not what you signed up for.

She laughs mirthlessly. 

“It’s just a report agent. Think of it as a … peer evaluation. I just want to make sure there’s no issues. I’m sure you would understand. Especially after what happened in Houston?”

You grit your teeth. Of course she knew.

“Yes ma’am”.

You try to smile.

“I knew I was right to hire you”, she says. 

You both know you’re only here because she was the only one who accepted your transfer request. 

“Agent. If this conversation leaves this room, you’ll have to understand why I can no longer keep you on this team”.

Fantastic. You were already getting threatened on your first day. 

You plaster on a smile.

“Of course.”

She smiles back, just as fake.

“Great. Now I’ll introduce you to Agent Hotchner. You’ll have to forgive him for his … attitude”, she says contemptuously. “He’s going through a rough time”.

And now your boss was moody too? You were regretting come here by the second. 

Strauss presses the intercom button on her phone.

“Send him in”.

The door is opened by a tall, handsome man. He’s maybe in his late 30s, and he’s well dressed. He has authority figure written all over him, but he looks confused to see you.

“Assistant Director?”, he greets. You suspect it’s not often that he’s walked into a situation where he doesn’t know what’s happening. An exception being right now.

“Agent Hotchner, come in. I’d like you to meet Agent Y/L/N”.

He stretches a hand forward and you shake it. 

“Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise”.

He looks at Strauss. 

“What is this about?”

Strauss looks like she’s holding back a grin. 

“She’ll be joining the BAU effective immediately”.

Agent Hotchner looks like he’s just been handed a bomb.

———————————— 

Present

He doesn’t talk to you at all as you’re climbing into the jet. The team don’t pretend to hide their shock at your arrival. Hotch quickly introduces you and then takes a seat at the back. You politely smile at their wide eyes, but inside you try to fight the urge to turn around and go kick Strauss in the shin. She didn’t even tell them she was hiring you. Unbelievable. This day could not get any worse. The team starts asking you all sorts of questions. Hotch cuts them off.

“That’s enough. Brief us on the case JJ”.

They all follow his directive immediately. A pretty blonde woman who must be JJ hands everyone on the team a file. There’s a pause as everyone realises you don’t have one, because she didn’t know you would be here. A dark haired woman who introduces herself as Emily offers to share hers with you. You smile at her gratefully and try to be invisible as JJ briefs the team. 

—————————

Your first case is in Bridgewater, Florida. A girl has been found with her body eaten by alligators, her fingers cut off and a pentagram carved into her chest. It’s not exactly a great first day welcome. Hotch comes back from the coroner’s office with news that the victim had been force fed fingers before her death. And that none of them were hers, and six of them are index fingers. Remember when you thought your day couldn’t get any worse? This was definitely worse. You wince at the news and Emily looks at you with concern.

“You okay?”

You nod, but notice JJ and Agent Morgan discreetly share a dubious look. The latter turns to face you. 

“Field offices aren’t exactly the same as the BAU. If you’re not up to it-“

“I’m fine. I’d just like to catch the guy that did this”, you tell him. 

You refuse to look weak or feed into the suspicion that you don’t deserve to be here. Morgan stares at you before nodding in agreement and moving away to look over some files. You do the same to avoid any more conversation, and then notice something strange. You pull out a photo.

“This crime scene shows the books the victim was carrying were arranged into a neat row. This specific placement could suggest the unsub was at some point in a mental institution”.

Morgan looks doubtful, but still takes a look. 

Agent Reid springs up. “Of course! When the severely mentally ill are institutionalised, they’re taught to keep things clean and neat to promote order, exactly like the books in that photo!”

You’re a little speechless at his enthusiasm, but it seems his confirmation convinces the team, who now look a little less skeptical about your abilities. They call Garcia to check for names and update Hotch. Garcia calls back about a specific mental institution for a case like the one you’re looking for. Hotch immediately stands up to leave.

“Reid, let’s go”, he orders. The young genius scuttles after him. 

They find a name for the unsub, Floyd Feylinn Ferrel - a cannibal that believes he’s possessed by a flesh eating demon. He was also at the search party earlier to look for a missing girl. The team finds him, but one victim is still missing - Tracy Lambert. Floyd refuses to talk without Father Marks, the priest at his church. They bring him into the interrogation room with Morgan while you and Rossi pore over the sign in sheets from the search party. You frown. 

“Somethings wrong”, you mutter. The older agent looks at you in confusion.

“He signed the volunteer sheet, but not the search team sheet. It doesn’t make sense”, you say, handing him the papers. Usually unsubs joined the search team. Why would he just volunteer to be there?

“Father, I feel so alone. Like God has abandoned me”, Floyd laments. 

The priest shakes his head kindly. “You are not alone, my son. God is in all of us”.

Your stomach drops as you see exactly what Floyd had volunteered for - the food station. 

“We need to stop the interview”, you panic, flinging open the interrogation room door. 

Floyd stares right at you and grins. 

“So is Tracy Lambert”.

—————————

The plane ride back is quiet. You thankfully hadn’t eaten anything at the search, but you still feel nauseous. Is this what all BAU cases were like? Maybe it wasn’t too late to reapply somewhere else? Your unit chief interrupts your thoughts.

“Good job today Reid, we wouldn’t have caught him if you hadn’t noticed the books”, he says. You freeze in your seat, but the younger agent doesn’t notice your discomfort. In fact he barely looks up from his book to correct the unit chief. 

“Actually it wasn’t me that figured it out. It was y/n”.

Hotch looks taken aback and he turns to you, which leads to some awkward eye contact. He looks pained, but he gives you a nod and then moves to the back of the plane. 

Emily nudges your elbow from her seat next to yours. 

“You did good today. He’ll come around”, she tells you. 

“I really didn’t know that no one was informed of my transfer-”, you try to explain, but she stops you.

“I know better than anyone how you feel right now. As long as you do your job and are loyal to the team, everything’s going to be fine”. 

You nod. 

“Look, today was a rough case. We’re going for drinks when we land. Want to come?”, she offers.

You think about the report you’re about to write for Strauss tonight, detailing everything that just happened today. It’s going to take you hours to make sure it doesn’t incriminate anyone on the team. 

“No, I’m tired, but thanks. You guys have fun”.

On the drive home, you realise that you won’t ever be friends with them. You were a spy, even if you didn’t want to be. 

You had come here to escape. Instead, you had just traded one prison for another. 

————————————

Emily enters Penelope’s office to pick her up before drinks.

Penelope greets her with a guilty look.

“Ok. I did something, but don’t be mad. I looked into her file”.

“Pen!”

“What? She’s new, I don’t like new. And we don’t know anything about her. Don’t you want to know how she got hired without Hotch’s approval?”

Emily raises an eyebrow.

“I was hired without Hotch’s approval.”

Penelope gives her puppy eyes and Emily gives in.

“Fine. What did you find?”

The analyst practically lights up.

“Ok, so she graduated the FBI academy with high scores. Went straight to the Houston field office and she was very good at her job - excellent peer reviews and high scores on all of her evaluations”, Penelope starts, putting all of your personal data onto her screen. “Almost everything about her is perfect. Except-“, she clicks on a file. “About two months ago she suddenly requested a transfer to basically every department that was hiring and got rejected by almost all of them. Except ours”. 

Emily frowns. “She has stellar performance evaluations but no one wants to hire her? And why was she so desperate to transfer?”

“Yeah, I thought that was weird too, so I looked into it, but there’s nothing. Except that in her last month at Houston, she isn’t listed on a single one of their cases.”

“None?”

“It’s like she didn’t exist, but she was there every day, I checked her attendance and it’s flawless”.

Emily presses her lips together. She remembers how much she had tried to seal her own history. 

“I don’t think we should be looking anymore. If whatever happened isn’t in the database, then we aren’t meant to see it. She’ll tell us when she’s ready”.

Penelope looks apprehensive, but she closes the files. 

“She’s really nice! And she’s good, she helped us solve the case today”, Emily tries to convince the IT specialist. 

“I’m telling you something is fishy”.

Emily might not say it out loud, but she definitely agreed.

❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

Chapter 2

[phoward89]

Obsessed!Coriolanus Snow x Innocent!Reader, Obsessed!Crassus Snow x Innocent!Reader

WARNING ⚠️ Coriolanus Snow is a warning in and of itself. Cussing, obsession, smut, fingering, p in v, suspected cheating, older man/younger woman, father & son both want the same girl, reader is just too sweet for this world and has no idea that the men in the Snow family are toxic...

This is the Coriolanus x Reader ending AKA ending 1. The next ending I wrote AKA ending 2 will be for Crassus x Reader.

This is also a bit long.

Masterlist

Ending #1-Coriolanus:

“How're you feeling?” Coryo asks, resting his chin on your shoulder as you sit together on his bed. You're literally nestled into him; his arms are wrapped around you while yours are wrapped around him.

“I'm fine.” You lie.

“No, you're not.” The blonde with a halo of golden curls tells you. Of course, he knows you're not fine. He knows everything about you; knows you better than you even know yourself.

“I don't want you to leave.” You confess, struggling to hold back tears.

Coriolanus had received his conscription letter for the Peacekeepers that day. A letter that changed everything the two of you had planned for your lives. It definitely changed Coryo's plans, since he was going to make things official with you. Make you his girl.

But now he's been drafted into service in the Peacekeepers. Apparently there's a dire need for Peacekeepers in District 8. Coriolanus says apparently because he's abso-fucking-lutely positive that his father's behind him being drafted into the Peacekeepers. All because he wants you to himself.

Coriolanus isn't stupid, he did graduate the top of your class at the Academy. It wasn't hard to put two and two together. With how his father keeps looking at you lustfully paired with the sudden conscription notice, well the blonde boy just knew he was being shipped away from you so that his father, General Crassus Snow, could poach his girl.

You.

Coriolanus also knew that it was now or never to tell you about his deep running feelings for you; to warn you about his father's dark and lecherous intentions towards you.

“Y/N, baby, we need to have a serious talk.” The curly haired blonde tells you, his baby blues boring into you with such seriousness that it was somewhat unsettling.

“About you leaving in 2 days?” You ask, sniffling.

“Yes,” Coryo nodded, “that's part of it.”

“Then what's the other part of it?” You curiously ask.

Coriolanus hits you with the bomb of, “I’d like you to be my girl; wait for me.”

“Wait for you? But, Coryo, Peacekeepers serve for 20 years and-” You begin to voice your worries only to be cut off and silenced by Coryo's lips pressing onto yours in a desperate, needy kiss.

Any thoughts that were in your head float away as you feel the softness of your best friend's lips crash into yours. Your instincts take over and before you can blink, you're grabbing Coryo's shirt and returning his kiss. Your lips slot against his in inexperienced motions.

Neither one of you has much experience, so your kiss is full of bumping noses and lips that're smooshing together in excitement and neediness.

Pulling back for air, Coryo leans his forehead on yours and nearly pants, “Wait for me, Y/N.” His baby blues look so vulnerable as he pleads, “Please, wait for me.”

So, of course, you promise to wait for him.

And that promise is what's having Coryo kissing you and pawing at you, begging you to fuck him before he has to go away. To let him make you his girl in every sense of the word.

You're nervous, having never been with anyone before, but you agree to sleep with Coryo. You figure that he'll be sweet and gentle since he's never been with anyone either. You think that the two of you losing your virginity to each other will be romantic and like it's portrayed in novels and romcoms.

But it's anything, but that.

Coryo's got no idea what the hell he's doing once the two of you get naked. For all of his bravado and confidence around everyone in the public eye, he's just a touch starved boy that needs somebody to love him so much. So much that it's borderline pathetic.

But, he's obsessed with you. And that obsession gives way to him nervously slotted between your legs, kissing and sucking on your neck while fingering your tight virgin hole with his long, slender digits. He's a bit awkward with his movements at first, but after you tell him what feels good and what feels off he starts to get the hang of things.

Coryo's thumb experimentally presses into your clit, swiping it back and forth, as his fingertips press against that spongy spot hidden deep inside of your wet cunt. His fingers, long and slender, slip smoothly in and out of your pussy.

Your chest heaves up and down as you feel a tightness form in your lower belly. “Coryo, I think I'm close.” You tell the curly-haired blonde, voice a wavering gasp.

“Wait.” Coryo ordered, his baritone desperate as he ordered you not to cum. “I wanna be inside you when you cum.” He tells you, pulling his hand out from between your legs.

You've never had anyone, other than yourself, make you cum before- but you felt the need to cum right now, so despite the hesitation you felt about losing your virginity you agreed to let Coryo be your first. Be inside of you when you both cum.

As soon as you said okay Coryo placed a shaky hand on your thigh, holding your leg spread wide while using his other hand to help guide his fat cock inside of your tight, innocent hole. Your nails dig into his broad shoulders as you feel him push every large agonizing inch of his dick into your wet, but too tight pussy.

Coriolanus, being a greenboy in bed, had no idea what he was doing or how to make the first time not be so uncomfortable for you. All he had was his baser instincts to rely on.

You let out tiny whimpers as your best friend’s large cock tore you open; he let out a guttural moan at the tight feeling of you. And when he finally pushed past your barrier and fully sheathed himself inside of your snug, wet warmth the both of you let out high pitched moans and groans. Your sounds of first time pleasure and pain sounded like a beautiful duet in the still of the night.

Your cunt felt so good around his cock. So much better than his hand does when he jerks off. So much so, that Coryo couldn't control himself; he ruts into you at a fast and needy pace.

He can't help it. You just feel too damn good.

Since you're already at the tip of the edge, Coryo's frantic rutting doesn't bother you. In fact it makes your orgasm bubble up and over.

And he just continues fucking into you at a sloppy, desperate speed, as he ride out your high. Coryo buried his head of platinum curls into the crook of your neck as he groans and whimpers while chasing his release. He's desperate to cum, so his rutting gets quicker in a last-ditch effort to empty his aching balls; to relieve his throbbing 8 inches of hard cock.

Being inexperienced, it doesn't take Coryo too long to cum while whimpering your name desperately.

Coriolanus collapses on top of you, his body acting like a weighted blanket. He doesn't ask if you like it or if it was good. But he does kiss you and tell you that he's gonna miss your pussy when he's gone.

And that you better not let anyone else use your cunt while he's gone cause it's his to play with; nobody else's.

Without Coriolanus by your side you fell into a depression. Yes, you received letters from him and the occasional phone call, but it wasn't the same. He wasn't physically around, like he's always been, and it hurt.

It hurt so much.

So goddamn much.

You felt so alone…

You thought that you were doing good job of hiding your hurt, your depression and loneliness. But you weren't.

No.

Crassus noticed it right away.

And he tried to swoop in and put a smile on your face by asking about your day or by suggesting you read a certain book in the library, but it never worked. Nothing worked to put a smile on your face.

The only time a faint smile appeared on your face was whenever Crassus handed you a letter from his son while shifting thru the mail after coming home from work. You'd always snatch it from him with a smile on your face. One that never quite reached your eyes.

You cherished Coryo's letters. He always complained about District 8 in them, but he’d also write a few lines about his feelings towards you. Always told you to wait for him; that he'd figure out a way to return to you.

Crassus, as cold and unfeeling of a man as he was, never kept his son's letters from you despite the fact that the middle-aged man wanted you as his next wife. His future First Lady. And why didn't he keep them from you?

Because he wanted to woo you away from his son’s affections. Crassus wanted the knowledge that he pursued you, courted you, and gave you somebody to confide in all the while Coriolanus was sending you letters that were borderline love letters.

Crassus wants you to pick him over his son, not because he made you, but because you want to.

Because you want him.

And having Coriolanus thousands of miles away serving in 8 would definitely help out with you picking the older Snow…

Out of sight, out of mind as they say.

But you truly did hold onto hope that Coriolanus would make his way up the ranks and quickly. Your sanity depended on it.

Despite Crassus’ attempts in trying to console you, you missed Coryo and wanted him. At least Crassus’ suggestion of taking up a hobby to help clear your mind seemed to help a little.

And what hobby did you pick up?

Baking.

Baking helped you deal with the loneliness Coryo's absence brought you. It also helped you forge a friendship of sorts with Crassus since he became your official taste tester for your treats. Oh, and you just sprung that on him one day. You didn't ask him if he wanted to taste your homemade goodies, just shoved some cookies at him one day and told him to eat it and let you know if you needed to tweek anything.

Baking also helped you deal with Coriolanus' betrayal. A betrayal that, sadly, you heard about from his own father:

Crassus.

While baking some cookies for Yule, the phone rang. Since Grandma'am was old, hard of hearing, and taking a nap it was up to you to answer the phone. Especially since Crassus was at work. If he was home then he would've answered the phone.

But he wasn't home, so answering the phone fell on your shoulders.

You dusted your flour covered hands off on your apron while exiting the kitchen and making your way to the main sitting room of the house; where the phone was at. Sitting on the chair right next to the phone, you picked up the video phone and answered with a simply sweet hello.

Coryo's face appeared on the video screen. “Hi, my darling rose. I've missed you so much.” He greets you with a wide smile that shows off too many of his pearly whites. “I've got some great news, baby.”

But you didn't want to hear it.

No.

Not after what Crassus told you a couple of weeks back.

“I just took an Elite Officer's Placement Exam.” Coriolanus beamed, his cheeks hurting from smiling so manically.

But you weren't smiling. In fact, you didn't see how this news was great for you. Not with what you learned about him lately.

“I bet your district whore’s really happy about that.” You snidely remark, letting him know that you're aware of his cheating while stationed in 8.

The platinum blonde, who's sporting freshly buzzed hair, swallows a lump in his throat. He keeps a neutral face, but internally he's sweating bullets. He can't help, but wonder who told you that he had a district whore.

“I don't have anyone, but you, my darling.” Private Snow tells you in a voice that's as sweet as honey and as charming as ever. But the way he tilts his chin up ever so slightly and bats his long golden eyelashes portrays a fake innocence; manipulative nature about him.

One that you aren't sure you want to see thru.

But…

You decide that you need to confront Coryo with what Crassus told you.

Taking a deep breath, to calm your nerves and slow down your racing heart, you looked Coriolanus straight in his baby blues via the video screen and told him, “Crassus told me that a couple of his contacts in District 8 told him that you've been with a girl for a few weeks.”

Coryo's freshly shaven jaw ticks and his chest tightens slightly. His eyes widen for a split second, only to go back to their correct size. And then Coriolanus does what he's learned to do best while away in 8. He spins things to suit him; to favor his agenda- his wants, his endgame.

“Y/N, baby, listen to me, please-” Coriolanus gives you the believable explanation of, “I haven't been with anyone. All I did was turn in a thief, that was a girl, for punishment. She was whipped and I helped her out of the town square afterwards.”

A look of longing crosses over his face as he swears, “You’re my girl, darling. My one and only girl, who I'm doing everything I can to return to and be with.” He tickles your eyes with honied words of, “I impressed my superiors and they arranged for me to take the Elite Officer's Exam. After I receive my official passing results I'll be transfered to 2.” Coryo raises his hand and caresses the screen as if he was caressing your face. “Once I'm at the Nut I'll send for you.”

“What?” You asked, taken aback by the private's words.

“Officers, even ones in training, are allowed to have a girl if they want.” Coriolanus smiles brightly. “It's a reward for hard work and loyalty to the Capitol.”

“How long will it take you to send for me, Coryo?” You ask, sounding both curious and apprehensive.

“I surmise a month.” He told you, only to quickly follow it up with a desperate sounding, “But you can't tell my father about it. Promise me you won't tell him, Y/N.”

“Why can't I tell him? He's-” You began to ask, only for Coriolanus to cut you off with a loud snap of, “Because he'll try to stop you, Y/N!”

Coriolanus shook his head, only to explain in a whooshing baritone, “My father wants you all for himself; he'll never let you be with me. You can't trust him with our plans, Y/N.” Giving you a hard look, one he's learned as a peacekeeper, he orders in a way that seems like a well meaning suggestion, “If you're getting friendly or close to him, stop it. It'll only tear us apart.”

You worried your bottom lip as a sense of melancholy and, if you'll dare say, guilt, washed over you. You didn't want to lie to Crassus about the plans Coriolanus was striking up for you, especially since you've been growing close to his father.

You surely had a hard choice to make.

You had to decide whether or not to believe Coryo when he claims his faithfulness to you; to run away to be with him.

But could you truly believe that he didn't cheat on you, that he was just doing his job in turning in a thief; making sure she cleared the town square after her whipping.

“Time’s almost up, my darling rose, but I'll write.” Coryo told you, making you snap out of the mental blackhole you were falling into. “I love you.”

“Private Snow, time's up!” You heard a man from off screen loudly about at Coryo, causing him to hang up on you before you ever had a chance to say I love you back.

That night while Grandma’am's sleeping you're in the living room with Crassus, watching an old classic movie on CapitolTV. You're on the sofa, body softly nestled into his side while Crassus has an arm loosely slung around you.

To an outsider looking in you'd look like a couple. But you weren't a couple. Just friends.

Right?...

Just when the noir detective was about to press a bartender for information on the movie a breaking news alert broke out and interrupted the film.

“We're sorry to interrupt your current programming, but President Ravenstill is dead. He died this evening, in his bed. The president was sickly and his illness was progressing far worse over these last few days.”

Never had a president died in office in the history of Panem. Usually a president would step down if deathly ill or old and an election would be held to name a successor. But the incumbent president would not officially retire until a presidential replacement was elected.

President Ravenstill’s death turned the system upside down and on its head.

Crassus didn't even seem surprised about the president’s demise.

Well, he shouldn't be since he's been paying a contact of his in the Presidential Palace to slowly poison the president to make it look like the elderly man got sick and succumbed to his winter illness.

“What's going to happen to the country now that the President Ravenstill’s dead?” You ask, looking up at Crassus’ pale blue eyes with worry swimming in yours.

Eyes that're the same icy shade as his son's.

But his holds a coldness while Coriolanus seems to hold- well you can't quite put your finger on it, but the younger Snow's eyes don't light up the same as they used to.

That you're certain of.

“The Senate will rule over the country while the election process is out into motion.” Crassus simply explained. Smirking, he adds, “I’ll be tossing my name in the hat as a presidential candidate for the Old Guard.”

“You're going to run for President of Panem?” You ask the middle-aged man, who you’ve developed a tiny crush on over the last few months, as the breaking news story ended and the tv resumed playing the old classic movie.

“Yes.” Crassus nods. “I believe that I can successfully get this country into shape.” And you don't doubt it. He was a former general; a war hero too.

“Petal, you'll be baking all sorts of cookies and cakes in the Presidential Palace once I'm elected.” Crassus confidently told you. He was already making plans for the two of you to be in the Presidential Palace together. “Maybe you can even give the bakers some of your recipes to bake as well.”

“Maybe.” You reply while watching the movie on TV.

Everything feels so surreal right now. Your entire day feels like a dream.

A winter’s dream that can't be real, but in fact it's real. It's very real.

And to top off your day; mark the night as unbelievable, Crassus placed a hand on your chin only to tip your head to the side and capture your lips with a kiss.

A firm, but passionate kiss that caught you completely off guard.

A kiss that turned into other things…

Yule came and went and so did New Year's. Your relationship with Crassus had turned into something that maybe you shouldn't have let happen. Not when you're waiting for Coriolanus to send you word about his officer's promotion.

You knew that he passed his exams since Crassus told you. It was an offhand remark about how one of his sources in 8 told him that Coriolanus passed an Elite Officer's Exam and would be transferred to the Nut in 2. The older Snow also crudely remarked that he felt his son would be bringing his district whore with him to warm his bed.

And his words had an effect on you. A negative one that made you doubt Coryo's feelings for you; his promises and words as well.

Grandma'am was oblivious to your anxiety. The old woman was too busy being enamored by her son's presidential campaign. A campaign that was running smoothly despite it only being a month in. Grandma'am was positive that Crassus would win the nomination for the Old Guard party and would be one of the official candidates.

And Crassus…

Well…

He was so worried about his campaign and beating his opponents that he rarely noticed you, unless it was to blow your back out in bed. But you weren't complaining about that.

You're a human that craves closeness and touch, you'd be a fool to complain about Crassus fucking your brains out night after night.

But you often wonder if you're together only due to circumstances. Crassus has never told you ‘I love you’ like Coriolanus has. That small fact alone has you leaning towards Coryo's offer to run away and join him in 2 at the Nut.

Surely if Crassus cared about you, even held an ounce of love for you, he'd vocalize it. Right?

And one night when Crassus got home he shifted thru the mail and handed you a letter from Coriolanus. “He's at the Nut in 2 now.” Crassus announced- his line of sight on the return address on the envelope he was presenting you.

“You said he'd be transferred there.” You reply, taking the letter.

Crasuss nods before pressing a kiss to your cheek. “I need to go over some papers for my campaign in my office, so you go ahead and read your letter.” Before walking off towards his office down the hall, he told you, “I’ll be a while, but I'll join you in my room later tonight, petal.”

Left alone, since Grandma'am was visiting the neighbor Pluribus, you took a seat on the sofa and opened the envelope, only to pull out the letter. When you unfolded it, a ticket fell out. 

Your chest started to race as you realized it was a train ticket. Quickly, you began to read the letter Coriolanus sent you.

My darling rose,

I'm sorry for not writing sooner, but I was preoccupied with moving to the base on District 2. Living in the Nut, a base carved into a large mountain, is quite the adjustment. Also, my training has taken up most of my time too.

But, I promised to send for you once I was settled in, which is why I'm writing you this letter. Enclosed is a ticket for your passage to District 2. I'll be at the station waiting for you.

And please, my darling, pack light. 

Love,

Your Coryo

Staring at the ticket in your hand, you realized that you had a choice to make. A hard choice.

Runaway to 2 and hope that Coriolanus truly does love you; that Crassus is wrong and that his son doesn't have a mistress.

Or…

Stay in the Capitol, where you feel safe, with Crassus who's on a quest to be elected president. But, you're so unsure of where things stand with him.  

Maybe if you'd ask you'd get an answer, but you won't ask him. And he won't tell you.

In fact, Crassus thinks that everything's fine between the two of you. 

But it's not fine.

Maybe he shouldn't have given you that letter, considering it contained a train ticket for the very next day.

But whatever path you choose, you'll be spurning a Snow.

You made your decision, so there's no turning back now. 

Or at least that's what you tell yourself as you look out the window of your seat, watching the scenery while clutching your travel case. The canyons and mountains you see on your way to your destination amazes you. You've never seen anything like it in your entire life. 

Yes, you've seen the Rockies from the Capitol, but they weren't like the jagged mountains that touched the clouds you're now seeing. No, the mountains you're seeing now look so majestic. Something that belongs to the world of the giants in the old myths from the Pre-Panem world.

You were on the train for nearly two days whenever you saw a sign reading 'District 2 Welcomes You' accompanied by the station’s large building in the distance.

This was it, you finally made it to 2.

You chose Coriolanus and you know that he'll be waiting for you on the platform.

And when you exit the train with your fellow passengers he's rushing towards you, wearing his officer's uniform complete with the gray cap, and you can't help but think that he looks so handsome. With a huge smile, you run up to Coryo.

And when you reach Coryo you drop your travel case and jump into his arms, that he's spread wide open as an invitation for you to hug him. You instantly wrap your arms around his neck while he holds you so tight. His head leans forward and he captures your mouth in a kiss that's passionate and desperate.

“I missed you so much, baby.” Coriolanus tells you between deep, heated kisses. Kisses that are more spit and teeth than soft pillowy lips pressing together.

Kisses that have nearby soldiers whistling and civilians shaking their heads in awe.

Coryo groans while pulling away from the kiss. Smiling, he caresses you cheek. “First things first, my darling. We need to get to the justice building and make you Mrs. Coriolanus Snow.”

“You want to marry me?” You ask in an awes whisper.

Of course Coriolanus wants to marry you. It's the only way to ensure that he wins. That he has you.

You being married to the young officer means that you'll never be free to be with his father, General Crassus Snow, ever again.

“Of course, I want to marry you, Y/N.” Coriolanus softly coos, unraveling your hands from his neck before bending down to pick up your discarded travel case. Pecking you on the cheek, much like Crassus had done the night before you left the Capitol, Coryo drapes an arm over your shoulder and urges, “Lets go get married, my darling.”

Once you left the Capitol and became the wife of Elite Officer Coriolanus Snow of Panem's Air Force you never saw Crassus again. Well, at least you never saw him in person. You did see him on campaign commercials and in campaign flyers. 

You also got a letter from him once.

And only once.

All it said was:

Petal,

I hope that you're happy with the path that you have chosen. I'm afraid that in time you'll discover that your husband is not the man he portrays himself to be, but in fact a snake. I myself have never claimed to be a saint and I never hide my true nature from you. I am, however, truly sorry that your childhood friendship with Coriolanus was used to manipulate you into eloping with him.

I'm sad that I'll have to occupy the Presidential Palace alone; without the sweet smell of your baking wafting around the large kitchen. I shall miss your baking.

Lovingly yours,

Crassus

Crassus was elected President of Panem and he used his new position to unite the 12 districts with the long since destroyed 13. Crassus also pressed 2 to use their military academies to train children to become ruthless killers; volunteers for the games.

The Hunger Games.

Games in which children of both the Capitol and 13 were excused from. Capitol because it's the jewel of Panem, the ruling city. And 13 because that's the apple of Crassus' eye; where all of his nukes and weapons factories are. Also, 13 is the reason for him being filthy rich considering he's an arms dealer.

And when Dr. Gaul addressed President Crassus Snow with a law change that would drastically affect both the games and Panem as a whole, well, the spurned, cold man signed off on it.

You had 4 children with Coryo. And, sadly, they're all marked as District 2 born and bred citizens because of Dr. Gaul's amendment that all children born on PK bases would be district citizens; would have their names registered for The Hunger Games.

And since Coriolanus was stuck in 2 (he tried to get a transfer to 1 or the Capitol, but it was always denied) your children were also made to join the training academy for tributes.

And when your youngest son turned 18 he was voted by his class to volunteer as the male tribute that year.

When you saw the cold glint in your father-in-law’s icy eyes on the TV, during the tribute parade when the chariot for 2 rode up the Corso and made a stop at the platform Crassus was at, you knew without a doubt that your son being a tribute was punishment. Your punishment for leaving him and picking his son. 

You and Coriolanus having to watch your youngest son, Javani, fight for his life in an arena that he should've never been in was unsettling, unfair, emotional, and nerve wracking.

All because you picked the son and not the father. If you picked Crassus your child wouldn't be running around in an arena, hand in hand with a girl from District 12 instead of staying with the career pack alliance. But you picked Coriolanus and now, 25 years later, that choice is biting you in the ass.

But at least you listened to your heart when you ran off to be with Coryo. 

And Major Coriolanus Snow was obsessively in love with you. So much so that his infatuation with you grew every second of the day. 

But that doesn't lessen the pain in knowing that your son's fighting for his life because of the father you chose for him.

All you can do is hope and pray to the gods that Javani uses both his brawn and his brain to find a way to survive the games. But his possessiveness over the tribute girl from 12, who's his age, concerns you. Because there can only be one winner.

It's like that in both the games and life.

And Coriolanus was the winner of your heart.

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @lady-harvey @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @zombicupcake3 @jacesvelaryons @tempt-ress

[naffeclipse]

One Soul to Another

Reader x Mermaid!Eclipse

Commission Info

I absolutely loved writing this darling hurt/comfort fic centered on Vanessa and Mer!Eclipse from In Deep Dreams Between the Waves for @counterbalance! The unlikely pair getting to connect while Y/N feels so much for their dear friend and dear mer is delightful.

Content Warning for mentions of death/violence/being eaten alive/mind control.

———

The Rustbucket II floats gently along a calm ocean as the dawn waits to spread rosy-tinged fingers over the horizon and lighten the darkness of the salty waves splashing softly against the side of your boat. In the cabin, you stir gradually, still caught between dreams and the black depths filled with stars where you spend your nights with your giant mer.

A calm warmth fills your heart. The beautiful weight of Eclipse’s presence sits tenderly within you, and you swear his fingers still curve softly around you, cradling you close to his chest. His bioluminescence glows behind your eyelids with the strong, orange light of a bonfire. His soft warbles and purrs fall against you but distantly, held at arm’s length by your waking consciousness.

Eclipse?

He withdrew from you softly, setting you back into your sleeping mind like he was tucking you into bed. You blink slowly, your eyelids weighed down with sleep. He doesn’t often leave you so early. He looks forward to your shared dreams the most. 

Slowly gliding your hand over the thin coverlet, you push yourself up on your bed, supporting yourself on your elbows as you force your eyes to focus on the gray-dark light touching the ocean. It’s still so dark. A cool mist hangs in the air. The smell of seaspray clings tightly to your senses. Working up your alertness, you slip your bare feet over the creaking floors of the cabin and softly slip towards the doors leading to the deck. The glass windows are slightly stained with ocean water and you mentally jot down a note to clean those when you return to shore.

Peering out onto the deck, you find a very beautiful, rare sight.

Vanessa. Her arms are folded, leaning against the handrails with her blonde hair outside of her usual ponytail. It’s gotten longer. It falls over her shoulders and down her back. Bangs fall into her eyes from what little of her face you see. A thick-knitted cardigan of cream warms her against the early morning chill. 

Just beyond her, nestled in the water with his head above the surface, is Eclipse. The leviathan hides his great size just below. His lithe four arms are the length of ships and his long, serpentine tail is dark and beautifully frilled.

His eyes don't shift you, his brilliant yellow colors set entirely on your dear friend, but a gentle pulse ripples through your heart. 

Hello, seashell.

You silently hide in the shadow of the cabin, unwilling to disturb this moment for Vanessa. She hardly ever wants to see Eclipse. He reminds her too much of the vicious mer who took hold of her and compelled her into his horrid bidding. 

She has nightmares of his song, but she didn’t last night. You would have heard her screams.

The softest sounds of Vanessa’s voice slip through the calm ocean air. You quietly hold your breath.

“I don’t know how they found you,” she says softly. Her hands nervously knit one over the other, wringing and twisting her fingers. She hardly lifts her eyes to look at Eclipse. He’s trying very hard, you realize, to make himself small and non-threatening for her.

He warbles a low sound, sending ripples across the settled ocean surface. The slightest twitch of her brow follows.

You lean closer against the door, your ear pricking towards her. Maybe you shouldn’t listen in. Vanessa might have told you much but she hasn’t told you everything. Now that she speaks to Eclipse, you can’t help but wonder if this might be therapeutic, a way to help undo some of the damage done by Glitch.

“There must be a difference between a mer meeting a human when the mer is small and when they’re grown.” Her head bows deeper. “Do mers grow up without a human and decide to sink their ships, just because they can?”

Eclipse shifts in the slightest, his brilliant arrangement of frills crowning his head in bright oranges and yellows sweeping in a soft, comforting gesture. His attention remains on her. A soft note slips from him. A soothing sound you so often hear when a terrible dread creeps over you and you feel the wet walls of Glitch’s stomach closing in around you again.

Her eyes still don’t stray from him. A confusing need to calm her sweeps through you. You stand silently, hugging your arms in the quiet dawn-gray light. 

“I don’t know why a bad one found me. Why did he choose me?” Vanessa’s voice wobbles wetly. You almost step closer, to lay a comforting hand on her shoulder, but Eclipse rumbles gently. The sound seems to wash over Vanessa like a wave of sea foam. Slowly, she reaches up and touches her face, smearing something wet while clearing her throat. 

A radiance of patience and compassion fills you. The distant echo falling from Eclipse brims you with a warmth like sunlight dappling a watery surface. You shift and squeeze your hands together. You so often admire your mer in his wonderful care for you. Now you witness it for Vanessa.

She swallows thickly. 

“I think about it sometimes,” she says so quietly you almost don’t catch her words. “If he hadn’t chosen me, I would be dead like the rest of them. He would have eaten me alive.”

A tide of rage flows into your heart, not your own, but Eclipses. A shudder overtakes you. Closing your eyes briefly, you clench your teeth and breathe deeply, focusing on the wooden frame of the cabin and the soft creaking sounds of your boat.

Glitch is dead. Eclipse ripped him apart.

“But he did choose me,” she says quietly, haunted. “I’m alive.”

A low warble leaves Eclipse. He bobs along the surface and catches her gaze.

On the smallest ray of sunlight filling the horizon, you watch a tear drop into the salt of the sea off of Vanessa’s face. Her fingers clench, twisting in her cardigan sleeves. A rattling breath leaves her.

“He terrifies me still,” she whispers to Eclipse. “I think he’s hiding in my dreams, waiting to come back.”

A soft rumble leaves the giant mer. Eclipse slips the smallest bit closer, sending small waves out from his movement and splashing quietly against the boat. He softly parts his lips, keeping his teeth well hidden while singing a gentle note. A confirmation.

You feel his memory as if it were your own hands. One reached down into the gullet of the leviathan to find you and pull you free, and the other two pried Glitch’s jaw wider and wider until muscle and sinew ripped and bones cracked. Until the water turned red with blood. And he held you safe in his hands, your tiny body sinking into the safety of his grasp.

He’s dead.

Vanessa lifts her eyes to him. Her bottom lip trembles.

He cannot hurt you anymore.

You breathe out softly and clutch your heart. You wish Vanessa could hear his voice.

“I know,” she says, as if she did. She hunches lower along the handrails. Even when you were at her side in the time she couldn’t sleep and feared a singing voice, she never looked so small. Perhaps you are too used to her watching over you. She looked out for you when you were younger, always taller and wiser. Now you see her for the fragile state she remains in. Your heart squeezes within you.

A gentle wave of warmth seeps over your shoulders. You breathe again.

“I had no control.” Vanessa squeezes her hands into fists until the skin over her knuckles stretches white. “He forced me to lead every single soul to their death. I was burning. Resisting him was agony like he was going to cleave my soul from my body. I could never tell him no.”

She drags the heel of her hand into her cheek, eyes squeezed shut. Eclipse stays quiet, waiting until she can breathe again. You furl and unfurl your fingers but force yourself to be as patient as Eclipse. He knows what he’s doing.

“His song still lives in my head. When it gets too quiet, I hear it again. I think he’s back.” She trembles where she stands. Her hair falls around her shoulders and you wish to sweep it back to see her face and tell her it’s alright. Glitch is gone. 

“When I was face to face with him,” she stops and bites her bottom lip. Another tear fell down her face, “I was nothing. He could have crushed me. He could have speared me with one of his claws. I could do nothing to stop him.”

A wretched sob leaves her. Horror rips from her teeth. The breath drags out of her throat and you start, your heart breaking in the echo of her sound. Tears threaten to swell within your own eyes. No. You have to be strong for her now.

She doesn’t deserve this. She is as innocent as the ones Glitch killed.

Water softly sloshes down below. Vanessa stills. Rising to the handrails, one of Eclipse’s hands holds steady. He reaches the back of one crooked finger for Vanessa but leaves distance between true contact. Vanessa steps back once. Slick brine falls away from his skin and back into the water, dripping from his claws. Eclipse holds her gaze, steady despite the slightly bobbing boat. 

Her body is rigid, taunt like a prey animal about to race from a predator. Low, coaxing sounds fall from Eclipse’s mouth as he keeps his head below. Vanessa has the choice. He will not force it but a will of simmering need to comfort one so afflicted by Glitch, just like you, heats his very heart.

You touch your chest softly. You’re here, too. It’s okay.

In silent awe, you watch Vanessa ball up her hands and step closer. As slow as the rising sun now sending sharp rays of light across the sea, she loosens her fist and slowly, cautiously, sets her hand on one of Eclipse’s knuckles. He softly hums and warbles in encouragement. Vanessa stares. She still shakes—you fear she might fall apart and dissolve into another panic attack—but she breathes. Her shoulders heave. Carefully, she looks Eclipse in the eye.

A great swirl of pride opens within you, shared equally by you and your mer. 

“You’re so big,” Vanessa mutters, far away, as if she can’t quite wrap her mind around it. Or perhaps, she’s thinking of another mer entirely. Her eyes fall below the water. “But you can be gentle.”

Yes.

Eclipse shifts his gaze to you for the briefest moment. Your smile tugs on the corner of your lips. He chirrs gently before Vanessa looks up, and holds the leviathan's gaze once more.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, “I tried to kill you when I found you with them. You were small then, even smaller than them.”

He grumbles and trills, his grin splitting across his features as if he were allowing the incident to pass like water under a bridge.

She weeps once, her back shaking. She bows low and holds tight to Eclipse’s fingers and releases what you imagine to be a great flood of anguish over what’s been done. What Glitch did to her.

A whirlpool of revolt and hatred begins. The seaspray of Eclipse’s fury towards Glitch is a storm threatening to swallow all that draws near its spinning mouth. You lean deeper against the cabin door frame and brace yourself.

Wild visions cut across your vision, filled with violence and righteous anger. A soul bond is sacred. To take a human is to share a mer’s very being with them. The dreams, the pain, the love of a mer, anchored to a little human soul. To defile such a bond, to use it for mayhem and death is unforgivable.

Eclipse’s tail flicks below. A few gurgles of water flip and Vanessa stiffens in the slightest, her eyes straying to the movement. You feel the cords of his being tightened into control. The refusal to startle Vanessa just as he closed the distance between them, and listened to her woes. His frills lower and his arms calm, holding carefully still once more.

He can be gentle.

It is wrong what Glitch did. It is unfathomable to your giant mer, and you love him more for it.

You recall asking him if he would ever do such a thing to you. You were almost washed away by his revolt and disgust for such a notion, and you were stunned. You realized your error in even asking. 

No, Eclipse could never do such a thing to you. You look at Vanessa. She didn’t deserve it.

It’s alright, you soothe inwardly, brushing against his own heart. She’s safe. No mer will ever hurt her again.

A great rumble of agreement joins your thoughts. Vanessa slowly takes her hand back and wipes the slickness sticking to her skin on her cardigan. 

“Thank you,” she says at last. Her voice is small and weak, almost crackling with emotion. “If it wasn't for you and them…”

She rubs a hand over her face, pressing down on her eyes as if to shove the alternative out of her very mind.

“I don’t want to think about it too much,” she concludes. Her hand lowers and she offers a rare, small smile to Eclipse. “Thank you. For being good to them.”

Eclipse yearns to tell her more, to flick his fins and tell her all that Glitch did is wrong, but he can only warble. Gratitude softly blossoms within you.

You’ll make sure to tell Vanessa for him.

Using the back of her hand, Vanessa wipes her face and smears tears over her cheeks until the new sunlight shines on her skin. It will dry soon enough. A deep breath echoes softly as she fills her lungs and lifts her face towards the sky streaked with the pale light of dawn. Relief, you think, paints her eyes a softer green.

Eclipse lowers his hand with a gentle gloop of water as it falls below the surface. He turns his attention fully to you. His stunning frills catch the yellow light and brighten it. His eyes glow gently as he holds your gaze. Vanessa slowly turns to find you standing there. Her shoulders push back. She exhales a rattling breath.

“Did Eclipse wake you?” she asks in a thick voice.

“No. I just heard your voice,” you offer gently. 

Stepping quietly, you cross the deck. Her smile is wet but real.

You open your arms for an embrace. She accepts, falling into you with her hands hooking around you tightly as if you were a lifesaver at sea. You gather her together and hold her tight.

Eclipse watches you both. His soft trills echo before Vanessa pulls away and wipes her face one last time.

“I’ll start some tea,” she says. 

“Okay, I’ll be there in a moment,” you nod. The tiny kitchenette in your cabin is nothing grand, but it will do well enough to get a pot of tea going.

You let her go, slowly leaning back against the handrails as she disappears inside the cabin with a quiet click of the door. 

A gentle purr from Eclipse follows, and you glance up at him with a soft joy filling you to the brim.

“Hey, big guy.” You smile.

Eclipse offers his hand, water rises until it surfaces with a slickness to his palm. Without hesitation, you accept, crawling onto the pads of his fingers and ignoring how your pajamas grow damp with his touch. 

He lifts you gently into the air. With a soft flick, he leans back and slips away from the rustbucket II but stays well within sight. You settle into his palm as if you were coming home. A pulsing warmth trickles between your ribs and into your heart. You hold his big, yellow eyes softly.

“Thank you,” you murmur. You reach out and stroke his thumb. “You were very kind to listen to Vanessa. I think it helps her a lot.”

Eclipse whistles a happy sound and you’re nearly bowled over by his sweet joy for being able to provide comfort to a human he is still getting to know. But below the harmonic chords of cheer, you feel a bitter tang. Upset at the thoughts of a terrible fate thrust upon a human. A bond crafted not to use for love, but for control.

You watch his lips pull back into a silent snarl. His teeth are powerful and large, shaped like shark incisors, but they do not scare you. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” you say softly. You shift to sit on your knees, waiting until he holds your gaze and loses the sharpness of his eyes. “It’s over now. You made sure of that.”

He killed Glitch. He told Vanessa just as much.

“You would never do such an awful thing,” you also press. You don’t need to tell Eclipse that, but you believe the mere thought grinds against his fins and scrapes his scales. 

You think back to the tiny mer you found on the beach with a hook stuck in his lip. He was so tiny, so afraid then. You were an unknown monster reaching for him, but then you set him free. Now here he is, holding you in the palm of his hand.

You smile and open your arms, a silent request.

He answers you without hesitation. Gently lifting you to his large face, he sets you against his cheek. His nuzzle is joined by a thick, vibrating purr and you laugh softly, pressing against his slick flesh. 

“See? It’s okay,” you tell him and stroke softly down the side of his face and brush a few of his swaying frills. “You take good care of me.”

And you take care of me.

You close your eyes and press just underneath the curve of his eye. 

“Yes,” you murmur.

A gush of warmth envelopes you far more than Eclipse’s hands. Slowly, he pulls you back and with a gentle lick of his tongue, swipes half your body in his fishy saliva.

“Eclipse,” you half laugh, half chastise.

Love you.

He trills and sings and lowers you back to his chest where he gently washes you with drips of salt water from his claws. You close your eyes—this must be what kittens feel like being washed by their mother’s tongue—until you are less fishy and more salty smelling.

He hums low and gentle, and as the sun rises higher and higher, you rest above Eclipse’s heart. The beautiful beat within is steady. You drift upon Eclipse until Vanessa’s voice calls out from your boat. Tea is ready.