#So far I only ship locally... | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

grandline-fics · 11 months ago

Note

Can I just say I LOVE your writting? 'cause I do! And I'm so happy requests are open! 🥹 Here I am wondering if you can indulge little old me with a request. I went through your prompts and picked two! If you can combine them, I'd be delighted! If not, it's okay!

Here:

Jealousy fuelled kiss with the sentence:

"Do you have any idea how much I want to kiss you right now?"

My request is a Fem reader and I would love to read Ace, Zoro and Law, if you don't mind! Throw in more if you'd like, I always love me some feral Kid, for instance... But whatever tickles your fancy! I just like some jealous boys! 🤭😋

Thank you again for sharing your gift! 🫶🏻❤️

DESCRIPTION: Prompt: Jealousy fuelled kiss w/ “Do you have any idea how much I want to kiss you right now?”

WARNINGS: jealousy! but nothing else apart from that

CHARACTERS: Ace, Zoro, Law, Kid, Rob Lucci

WORDS: 3,531

A/N: Thank you for this request! I added Kid for you and also did one for Lucci because why not haha. I tried to make each scenario different and interesting and I hope you like what I came up with.

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

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ACE

“Do you have any idea how much I want to kiss you right now?” You looked over in the mirror in front of you to see Ace appear in the doorway, arms folded and pout heavy on his lips. You let out a satisfied laugh and finished getting ready for a night out on the island the Moby Dick had just docked at. As you adjusted your outfit-the one Ace loved you in the most- you noticed how his hands twitched. You could tell he wanted nothing more than to close the distance and do exactly what he’d just confessed and ordinarily you would have let him. However tonight was different and Ace only had himself to blame. Earlier in the evening just before you’d gone to get ready you made a comment about hoping Ace wouldn’t be as flirtatious with the locals this time. He in turn responded with an idle wave of his hand and a comment that. “It’s just harmless babe, you know you’re the only one I want.”

While you knew that was true, the fact that Ace hadn’t even taken a second to consider how you felt was what annoyed you. You weren’t even asking him to stop flirting with others since it sometimes worked in the crew’s favour, you just wanted him to tone it down a little. So after that comment you’d told Ace that from now until you both returned to the ship you were both to pretend you weren’t a couple and you could also flirt with the locals too. Ace had initially grinned and shrugged, happy to play along since it was only flirting and you’d be his again when you both returned to the ship at the end of the night. His grin dropped though when you reminded him that this meant he wasn’t allowed to kiss or touch you at all.

The harsh reality of the situation hit him hard when it was less than hour had passed in the bar and he could barely concentrate on those he was talking to. Try as he might to be laid back as normal he couldn’t help but have his gaze pulled towards you every time the smallest movement occurred in your direction. You’d drawn plenty attention when you’d arrived and he’d expected it. Ace had always counted himself the luckiest man alive you have been the one you chose and jealousy was a foreign feeling to him so to feel it now was unsettling. Over and over he’d reminded himself that it didn’t mean anything.

Then he heard you laugh and watched when the person talking to you stepped just a little closer. At the same time, the glass in his hand exploded and he looked at his hand engulfed in fire and slight scorch marks on the table. Ace rose and handed money to the barman to cover the cost of the minor damages before stepping out into the cool air to clear his head. He got as far as the fountain in the town-square and sat down, closing his eyes. “Not as easy to be on the watcher’s side is it?”

Ace turned his head sharply to see you sitting down beside him. Immediately he wasted no time in leaning forward. With his fingers pinching your chin and free hand sliding into your hair he claimed your lips, pulling you dizzyingly into one of the most intense and fiery kisses he’d ever given you. Surprised, you managed to recover and return the kiss with equal fervour while letting your boyfriend dictate the pace until you felt you couldn’t breathe. Finally you reluctantly pulled back just enough to catch your breath while Ace pressed more kisses against your jaw and throat. “Lesson learned.” He rasped against your skin, lifting his head to smirk at you. “Jealousy sucks.”

“I dunno…” you laughed, securing your hands on his shoulder and chest. “Has its uses if I get more kisses like that.”

ZORO

Zoro normally has no problem voicing his own thoughts. Someone’s being a moron? He’ll tell them to shut up and get out of his way. Someone fought fiercely and strong enough to earn his praise? He’ll do so and even make it a point to name something specific he witnessed to ensure them he is being genuine. Zoro prided himself in being upfront and unfortunately he had to call himself a fucking coward. Because he just couldn’t bring himself to tell you how he felt and anytime he considered it, he backed out just as fast. Instead he had to subject himself to the self-inflicted torture of being close with you but not in the way he fully wanted while also trying to convince himself that he only sees you as a friend because at the moment that’s all he can see you being with him.

“That drink say something to piss you off or something?” Zoro glanced out of the corner of his good eye to see Nami appear and lean against the railing he was also using to brace himself against. “You’ve been glaring at it instead of drinking it and I got concerned.”

“Nothin’ to bother yourself about.” He answered gruffly, forcing his gaze to look out at the lower section of the deck and sipped his drink as if to prove her worry wrong. Though now he had to look at the one thing he’d been trying to avoid; you talking and laughing with the others.

“You should just tell them how you feel already.” Nami hummed, her knowing smirk hidden by the rim of her glass. “Better do it soon too before your chance disappears.”

“Dunno what you’re talking about.” Zoro tried to sound casual but her second remark had made him tense. “Definitely don’t know what you mean about my chance either.”

“Oh please, most of us know you have a feelings for them, we’re just shocked you never made a move yet.” Nami kept her gaze steady on the swordsman, trying to get him to finally see sense. “But now Sanji’s patience has run out. Says if you’re going to be such a coward about it all he’ll finally do what he’s wanted to for ages.”

“Hah!?” Zoro shouted a little too loudly, even drawing the attention of the group below. You looked up at Zoro curiously, watching as he abruptly looked away from the collective stare to focus on Nami with a harsh stare, turning his body slightly to face her. “What’s that shit cook think he’s planning? When the fuck did he call me a coward? I’m gonna slice his smug face off.”

“Wow…for a second there I’d think you were jealous at the thought of them actually falling for Sanji’s charm.” Zoro scoffed and rolled his eyes. The only charm the cook had in his opinion would barely fill a thimble. There was no way you’d fall for that over the top, dramatic, overused nonsense that he threw at anyone with a pulse. Would you?

Cautiously Zoro looked down at the scene again and his face contorted in disgust to see Sanji’s arm loosely over your shoulder as the two of you laughed at something Usopp was telling the group. Feeling his stare, Sanji glanced up and smirked at Zoro, lightly squeezing your shoulder in affection to you but in also brazen challenge to Zoro. Sharply Zoro turned on his heel and walked down the small staircase, approaching you silently. You looked up at Zoro with a smile, excited that he was finally going to join you all but your smile lessened and became a look of concern to see how serious he was. You were about to ask if he was okay but he spoke first. “I need to talk to you in private.”

Immediately you got to your feet. You knew Zoro well enough to understand he was a man of few words and if he needed to speak to you in private then it was serious. Silently you followed him below deck, only stopping when he felt he was a safe enough distance away from the nosy crewmates left above. You let the seconds tick by, allowing Zoro take his time in voicing his thoughts but seeing him so tense made you worry. Gently you lay your hand on his arm in a way to reassure him that you were there. A gasp left you as Zoro turned suddenly and pulled you against him. His hand fell to your waist as he stared at your parted lips with growing hunger.

“Do you have any idea how much I want to kiss you right now?” The words dropped from his mouth barely a whisper but he was so close each syllable lightly grazed your skin. Unable to speak you could only nod in consent and sank headlong into the kiss Zoro secured on your lips.

LAW

When Law was captivated by his research, medical procedures, and all over Captain duties, you had to take it upon yourself to keep yourself busy. Normally that was no issue when you were on the Polar Tang and had your own duties and routine to occupy your mind with. This time was different. After running into the Strawhat crew on Punk Hazard you could only sit back and watch as Law proposed an alliance with the rival crew in order to take down one of the four Emperors. You’d been taken by surprise seeing as your Captain and boyfriend didn’t tend to play well with others who weren’t on his crew. Quickly you saw him begin to regret his offer when events began to unfold and Law found himself being dragged along by Strawhat’s whims rather than his planned course of action.

Everything had worked out in the end though and now you and Law were on the Thousand Sunny, set for Dressrosa. Even though Law wasn’t on his own ship, he quickly made himself at home in the ship’s library and began to indulge in the large collection of books now at his disposal. Knowing you wouldn’t see him anytime soon you had to explore the ship for something to catch your attention since according to the allied crew you were a guest on board and didn’t need to do chores. It went against your nature. You wanted to help and be useful so you still offered each day you were on board. “Aren’t you tired wearing that all the time?”

You turned at the sound of Nami’s voice and immediately you looked down at your boiler suit. It was your normal clothing for the Polar Tang so you really hadn’t considered wearing anything else. Plus being on another crew’s ship it made you feel more at home, unable to stop yourself from missing the others that you knew you would reunite with at some stage. Casually you shrugged and smiled at the red-haired woman. “It’s comfy.”

Apparently that wasn’t a good enough answer because the next thing you knew, Nami had you dragged to her room and was throwing clothes at you to try on while telling you that you were far too good looking to hide everything under so much fabric. Mostly you went along with her whims because it would be a way of taking up your unending free time on the ship. Another part of you also got drawn into how nice some of the clothes felt and looked and it was harmless fun.

Law finally dragged himself from his spot in the library and stretched out his stiff limbs. Despite his medical knowledge, he still ended up sitting in the most unwise positions that would leave his back aching and neck tensed. With a groan he made his way out onto the deck only to stagger to a halt when he saw you wearing something completely different to what he was used to you wearing but he was in no way complaining. He loved how you looked regardless but you were breathtaking. His adoration for you was suddenly soured when he saw the others fawning over you. The cook he had no issue with, but to see the sniper blushing and even the swordsman openly talking to you made him glare. Then Strawhat had to push his luck too. “You’re so great! You know you should stay on my crew!”

Law’s room activated and you were promptly swapped to now be pressed close against Law’s side. Before you could reprimand your boyfriend for being rude you were pulled below deck to the library once more and pushed against the door as it closed. You looked up at Law with widened eyes and quickened heart rate, the look in his eyes making your mouth dry and skin warm.

“It’s bad enough that I see you looking so good. I mean do you have any idea how much I want to kiss you right now?” He began lowly and you shuddered slightly. “But then I have to see them trying to get too close to you and Strawhat thinking he’s worthy of having you? Ridiculous.”

Law quickly closed the distance, using his frustration and jealousy to spur him on, kissing you passionately.

KID

Kid had no problem with people looking at you appreciatively. I mean, why wouldn’t they? Look at you. It was clear to anyone with any sense in their skulls that you were one of the hottest people about. For him to see the looks you deserved filled him with a smug sense of pride because you only had eyes for him. He was the lucky bastard that got you all to himself in the ways that it mattered. So they could take their pathetic glimpses and live with the fantasy of picturing what it was like to be with you because he got the real thing. However what he didn’t like was to watch anyone to touch you in a way that wasn’t friendly.

On this occasion he sat in the darkened corner of a bar having to watch as you were being talked to by some drunken lech. You’d gone to the bar to collect the next round of drinks for the crew when someone approached. At first Kid had shook his head and smirked at the poor fool’s attempt to flirt but then he drew too close to you that Kid disliked. Still he knew you could handle yourself so he just had to grind his teeth and wait for you to expertly disengage yourself like you normally did. However you seemed drawn into the conversation with this man and Kid’s eyes narrowed.

Immediately he stood with the intent on breaking things up but stopped when you quickly met his gaze. When the drunk turned his head to order another drink you had time to mouth ‘Marine’ to your boyfriend. Kid remained standing and glanced at the man warily, now seeing why you were being careful with him. Slowly he drew closer, making sure his movements were careful and silent while you kept the Marine’s attention effortlessly. Kid knew it was an act but seeing you indulge the man more made his anger grow. Just as Kid stepped behind the Marine, he drunk set his hand on your thigh and squeezed it while leaning closer to your face. “Do you have any idea how much I want to kiss you right now?”

Kid had planned to just give the bastard one quick hit to knock him out but seeing that and hearing the words spill from his mouth, he snapped. Reeling his metal arm back, he tapped the Marine on the shoulder. When he turned, his hulking fist connected with the man’s face sending him launching off his feet and slamming painfully against the bar’s wall with the impact smashing the glasses and bottles. Seeing the Marine slumped on the floor helped Kid’s pent up rage but it wasn’t enough. Quickly he grinned at you and pulled you into his arms so he could throw you over his shoulder and leave the bar, no longer in the mood to drink. You stayed happily on Kid’s broad shoulder with a growing smirk as you listened to his jealous mutterings the closer you drew to the ship.

When you were finally set on your feet on the ship you turned in Kid’s hold that he refused to let you out of and smiled up at him expectantly. When Kid got like this you could practically time the sequence of events and this was your favourite part. Kid stooped down and with a low groan kissed you, devouring your taste and consuming your thoughts with only him while letting your magnetic presence and intoxicating touch leave him wanting more. You were the only one for him and by the morning should anyone look your way in appreciation again they’d spot some pretty marks on your neck to admire too.

LUCCI

Lucci was a master of his emotions for the most part. He could adopt a personality and live it perfectly for the purposes of a mission and then discard it when it was finished. He could keep his true nature at bay should he need it but in the freedom of Cipher Pol’s base he can just be himself. With powerful strides he walks down the corridors only to stop outside one of the training rooms in time to see you land a kick against Jabra’s stomach. Quickly he recovered and sent an attack your way. You managed to dodge it in time but Jabra caught you by surprise by sending a followup attack and knocked you to the ground, his hand at your throat to keep you pinned down.

For a moment you let your body go slack in a sign of surrender and the second you felt Jabra’s grip loosen you acted, disentangling out of his hold and attacked, taking advantage of his moment of surprise. Just as you were getting into the rhythm of the fight another agent appeared beside Lucci. “Jabra! We have a mission! Did you forget or something?”

You and Jabra paused your fight and you scowled at your sparring partner. You wouldn't have asked him to train with you had you known he would have to cut it short for a mission that he apparently knew about. Jabra briefly glanced at Lucci and quickly threw his arm around your waist before answering his mission partner. “Nah, didn’t forget. I just got a much better offer.” his wolfish grin spreading when he spotted Lucci’s eyes narrow at the comment. You however rolled your eyes and stepped out of the older agent’s hold. “We’ll pick this up when I get back, right?”

“We’ll see.” You told him dismissively which only earned you a quick wink before he left, leaving you alone in the training room with Lucci who remained leaning against the door, looking at his shoulder in disgust when Jabra had the nerve to brush past him on his exit.

“Didn’t know your standards were so low when picking a sparring partner.” He noted, watching you critically. You tilted your head at him curiously and slowly smirked.

“I’ll be fighting degenerates and unsavoury people out in the field, I wanted someone as close to that as possible for authentic training purproses.” You explained with a light shrug. “Jabra fits that closely, don't you think?”

Lucci allowed himself a low chuckle and pushed away from the doorframe, while pulling the door closed behind him to grant you both a moment of privacy. Your relationship with Lucci was one ou both didn’t feel like putting a real label on. For now you merely enjoyed the physical and social benefits it brought. You remained still as you watched him approach, your eyes alight with interest and mischief that not even he could find himself immune to. “I can see the logic but I can smell that filthy mutt all over you.”

“Jealous?"

“I don't get jealous.” Lucci growled, his hand setting on your waist, merely a coincidence that his hand covered the precise spot Jabra had touched. Your lips twitched into a disbelieving smile and you playfully nodded, pretending to accept his claim. Lucci’s free hand reached up to skim along your throat, again pure coincidence at the placement before he curled his fingers under your jaw to coax you to tilt your head up. “Do you have any idea how much I want to kiss you right now to get rid of that mutt’s stench?”

“Then do it, Chief.” You said stepping a tiny bit closer. “Let Jabra come back and know for sure that I’m a cat person.”

With a growl Lucci kissed you possessively, hungrily with purpose of doing just as you suggested. His main goal was to wipe any lingering trace of Jabra from your skin and wipe the other man’s name from your mind. He was very aware that you didn’t see the wolf man that way but still it brought out that animalistic conflict in him, the need to be better than him and from your reactions to his kiss he knew for sure that Lucci was the clear winner.

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clare-875 · 4 months ago

Text

Where I Belong (Luffy x Reader)

Pairings: Luffy x Female Reader (+ Strawhats and Reader) Summary: After a bad encounter with past friends, you just want your boyfriend and your crew. Warnings: Hurt, Comfort, mean friends, bullying [One Piece Masterlist] _____

When you returned to the Sunny, you didn't expect to feel so heavy and self-decrepit; you honestly expected the opposite.

When Nami informed you that the next island you would visit was your hometown, you had been ecstatic, instantly writing to your childhood friends in the hopes that you could meet up in the short time you were there. Your heart thrummed with the anticipation of being back on land you knew and breathing the nostalgic air of home. When you had gone to tell Luffy the news, he had joined in on your enthusiasm, grinning wide as you told him all you missed and all you hoped to see.

It had been several years since you had left the island and town you grew up in as a child. Orphaned at a young age, the people of the village had all become your caretakers in a way. They all adored you, a sign that the parents you have little recollection of were also adored before they passed away, and you had grown close to most who resided there. But you shared no deeper connection than the one you shared with your friends.

From the early stages of your childhood and into your teenage life, they had been the backbone of your delight in adventures, and the joyous memories spent despite being left with little place to call home. You would spend much of your time travelling areas of the island you had yet to explore, running in meadows on the back end of town, and giving puppy eyes to cafe owners who would spare you sweet treats. In later years you would gossip about boys, laugh at inside jokes, share in troubles and secrets and happiness.

When you had left your island, the goodbyes had been tearful, and bittersweet. Luffy offered all you had wished for since childhood: adventure, devotion, and answers about the world. With your mysterious devil fruit powers and harbouring an unnatural strength, you would be an asset to the straw-hat crew just as much as the crew would be an asset to you. That didn't make it harder to hug your friends goodbye or wave to them atop a ship that takes you far away. And as much as you adore your life now as a pirate on the sea, you could not help but reminisce.

You missed them, and you could not wait to see them again.

Upon arriving on your island, your senses instantly fill with a vibrancy and an air you had missed. "Come on!!" Your crewmates had smiled wide at your enthusiasm, basically dragging Luffy from the ship; a stark contrast to how he would usually be the one dragging you to islands. In an instant, the townsfolk had gathered, seeing a familiar straw hat and the young woman - a little bit older now - they said goodbye to several years prior, now back home.

"[y/n]!!"

"Welcome home!!"

"How long are you staying!?"

You smile tearful smiles as you greet the villagers who are all alive, safe and well. Familiar faces gather in your vision; the island's renowned cook, waitresses from cafes, shopkeepers and old family friends. They all seem so happy to see you and proud of the accomplishments they have read of in newspapers that travel the sea. '[y/n] [l/n], pirate of the Strawhat crew.' You were surprised by their support of your role as a pirate but it only amplified the nostalgia and warming feeling in your heart as you greeted them.

In fact, the only people absent were the childhood friends you hoped to see.

As people dispersed and gave you space, the local bookshop owner assured you that your friends were somewhere close by and that you would surely bump into them soon. Taking his words in confidence you had turned to your crew who had all been smiling and looking on fondly at the sight of your reunion with the townspeople.

"All right, let me show you guys around!"

You had taken your friends around the island, allowing them to see and explore the town that raised you as a child. They smiled when you spoke to them of the different places and what they meant to you, took suggestions on where to explore to heart and seemed genuinely happy to see where you had grown up.

"The restaurant where [y/n]-swan used to eat- The house that [y/n]-swan used to live- The shop where [y/n]-swan used to-"

"Oi, shut up, cook!!"

"Shi shi shi, this place is so cool [y/n]!!"

You grin as your friends seem to enjoy and appreciate the place you adored just as much as you. Sanji swooning over everything that had something to do with you, Zoro eying the liquor store down the street, Robin taking interest in the ancient books the island held, Brook in the music, Franky in the strange inventions, the list could go on. Your heart warmed at the sight of your makeshift family, getting along so well with the family that raised you. Luffy especially seemed excited to explore the island he visited before, keen to try the food that it was famous for.

"And that's about it! You guys can go and explore on your own now if you-"

Your words stumble to a halt when you see three familiar figures approaching you, grins wide and hands in the air in greeting.

"Hey [y/n]!! Is that you?"

Your smile instantly enlightens your face as you turn from your crew briefly. And sure enough, your old friends are waving to you in greeting, eyes gleaming in their joy to see you again.

"It's been so long!!"

They instantly envelop you in a hug, filling the air with their questions on where you have been, and what you have been up to, and finally turning to your crewmates who smile wide at the company of those you have talked fondly about. Of course, they know of your friends, you would often speak of the adventures you went on and the times you spent together to whatever crewmate would listen.

"And this must be the famous Strawhat crew!!"

"Yep! Guys, these are my childhood friends I always tell you about!"

Your friends turn to your crewmates, eyes shining in awe at the crew you were a part of, now infamous due to the battles you won and the strength that every individual pulled. You smile proudly at the sight of your friends greeting your other friends, the compliments thrown and the sheepish laughter of crewmates as they thank them for looking after you.

"Shi shi shi, alright!! It's time for food now!!"

Your boyfriend wraps his arms around you suddenly, grinning wide as he tries to pull you to the restaurant on the island he adores as much as you do. You roll your eyes, but other crewmembers also perk up.

"Actually, I was gonna check out the bookstore."

"And I should grab some groceries-"

"Those inventions earlier looked SUPERRR, I was gonna go check them out!!"

Nami smiles to you emphatically, as she grabs Luffy's ear and drags him from you. "Ow!! Nami!!" She pays him no mind, however, and turns to you and your friends once more.

"Why don't you go catch up with your friends [y/n]? I'll take Luffy to the restaurant and we'll probably be around town anyway."

"But I want to go with [y/n]- Ow!!"

You smile wide at Nami's understanding that you had missed your friends and hoped to catch up. Other crewmembers nod in encouragement.

"Yeah, [y/n]! You should go, we'll be around here if you need us!"

Chopper smiles happily at you and you hesitate at Luffy's crestfallen expression, but ultimately take the invitation.

"Okay, thanks, guys!!"

"Take your time, we'll be here until tomorrow morning!"

Nami continues to drag Luffy away in bright words and smiles, as the Strawhat crew wave and disperse to the areas that each ignited curiosity in them. Luffy pouts, telling you to not be too long but ultimately persuaded that the food at the restaurant could keep him company for the time you spent away. And in their absence, you turn to your friends eager to hear what you had missed in the years spent at sea.

The beginning goes as you expected, courteous questions, still tentative in the presence of friends you had not seen in a while.

"So, how have you been, [y/n]?"

"How's life at sea?"

And to the questions you received, you replied in the same manner, still joyous, seeing your friends once more. Time away with the future pirate king did mean leaving a life you had grown so attached to behind but in its place, the Sunny became your temporary home. You still missed the simplicity of life on the quaint island you resided in, and seeing your friends ignited memories of the times you spent together.

"I've been doing great!! So many cool adventures, I don't even know where to start-"

You had thought your keenness in the stories you told of the adventures at sea would be received with the same enthusiasm. After all, you had spent so much time away and shared a heartfelt goodbye before you left the island. However, the longer you spoke of your adventures and the longer you spoke of Luffy and your crew, the more their upturned lips started to turn downwards. Their gaze on you started to waver, and in the absence of your crewmates as they walked to restaurants or looked to places around the island, their interest in you also started to falter.

"-and then, you wouldn't believe. But Luffy, he changed gears and punched him through-"

"Yeah, yeah, that sounds great [y/n], but we were actually going to go to the shops right about now."

You pause, surprised by the abruptness of your friend who interrupts the words from your mouth. Suddenly, flustered and thinking you have talked too much (though having only spoken a few sentences), you instantly quietened and nodded in inclined understanding.

"Oh, yeah! Of course, don't let me stop you guys! Where were we thinking of going? I remember that clothing store down the road to that cafe we liked-"

"Oh... you wanted to come too?"

You frown as they interrupt once more, the vibrant air suddenly dwindling with what their words imply, or the feeling you suddenly did not belong in a space you were so sure you did.

"I mean, I thought we could catch up! It's been a while right?"

Your words are less confident than you hoped, lingering with the hesitance that matched the sudden weight of your thoughts. You watch as your friends look at each other, the same hesitance on their faces making you more confused as to why they are acting this way. They seem to share thoughts between their eyes, but ultimately they seem to come to a silent agreement.

"Okay."

But the day that passed had been nothing like what you were used to, and the friends you thought you knew acted nothing like the friends you spent your childhood with. It seemed like an invisible wall was put between you and them, and you followed behind them as you travelled the streets and to the shops. You hear them talk of dinner plans, of meeting people and of events they do not bother explaining to you. They laugh at jokes you don't understand, pass you a sympathetic smile and words like, "You just had to be there," and, "Oh, sorry [y/n], you wouldn't understand, would you?"

And you didn't know exactly why, but those words hit harder than the times they would ignore you as they picked out clothes and giggled with each other. Or when they went through stores and chose jewellery for an event that would take place a week from the current day. Or when they seemed to talk in whispers and not let you in. Each time they acted like you were a fly on the wall, invisible to them though you spent the whole day with them. Suggestions from you to visit the meadow, or go to cafes you so missed fell on deaf ears and all you received were hums and, "Oh, we don't go there anymore."

Your heart felt heavy and the day was long. You tried to convince yourself that this was just what happens when you don't see friends in a while. They grow, they move on. But you also remember how often you spent missing your friends, how you wrote to them even with their sparse replies, or how you cherished and held the memories of them so dear. And now, you see them trying to get rid of you silently, push you away from the circle they made, and their initial interest in your happenings as a pirate had long gone.

It seemed, their interest in you had gone.

But the worst was when you had left to use the bathroom. When you had gone briefly and returned to your friends who looked at dresses, the afternoon sun was already falling to the ground. You were surprised at how the day had passed unbeknownst to you when it had felt so long. You wonder what Luffy was doing, and how Nami was doing taking care of your boyfriend while you were away. He didn't necessarily need to be taken care of, but the two of you often explored islands together and you wondered if he missed you as you missed him.

When you had passed through rows of clothing and were walking past patrons to your friends, you heard your name amongst words you know you shouldn't have heard.

"Damn, was [y/n] always like this?"

"Beats me, do you see the letters she sends us like she's better than us, travelling the sea with the Strawhats."

"Yeah, it's still a wonder they let her join. I only went up to her 'cause I wanted to see if her crewmates were worth all the hype they're getting..."

"Right?! Why did she have to send them away?"

You freeze, still hidden from your friends' view by a clothes rack that impairs their vision. Stomach churning at the words you hear slip past their lips. Your eyes widen, as though you do not see them, your name and their voices confirm it is they who speak to you like a stranger they ridicule, and in such a way that makes your heart sink. Your childhood friends, who you had placed such value in, mocked you for your life choices, and your role on the Strawhat crew, and hoped only to use you to get closer to your infamous crew.

"Did you see the swordsman? Zoro, I think it was? Talk about muscle..."

"And omg, Nami's sense of fashion is just so good, I wish I could've had her tag along instead of-"

It is then that you step forward past the racks, and your friends perk up at your sudden movements, words dying on their tongues. But you try to keep a neutral expression, despite the breaking of your heart. They seem to be convinced you have heard nothing as they wait a moment for you to say something.

"I-I think I'm gonna go now. I don't wanna keep my crew waiting."

Again, your words are hesitant, low but you keep them sturdy enough to sound like a genuine concern you are going to adhere to. Instantly, your friends stand, giving you more attention than they did the whole day.

"Oh, really? Are you sure you don't wanna stay? You could come for dinner, maybe even invite your crew-"

"It's fine."

You smile, straining against your cheeks as you do, hoping your lips have upturned enough to contain the falsity of your expression.

"Thanks for today though, it was nice seeing you guys again."

Words slip your lips almost robotically, hands numb as you feel your friends awkwardly hug you and say their goodbyes. You faintly remember them waving and muttering words like, "Good luck," and "We'll see you next time," but as your legs pull you free from the stuffiness of the store it is like your numbness comes undone. Raging feelings course through your body, and suddenly a line of tears lay on your lower lashline.

You curse yourself.

You hate the way you have been so excited to see your friends when clearly the same sentiment was not returned. You hate the way you wrote to them and reminisced about them and spoke to your crew so fondly of them. You hate the way they have such influence over your joy and the disappointment that drips into your system because of their words and actions. You had spent the whole day with people who barely spared you any mind, when you could've been with Luffy and your true friends, showing them your home town.

Luffy.

Suddenly, and perhaps, more than ever, you crave your boyfriend's presence and his wide smile. And so, you walk through the streets you used to adore, now burdened with the day you spent. Smiling half-heartedly at townsfolk who recognise you and bid their greetings, travelling concrete roads that glow with the sunset, walking familiar paths to the Sunny that was silent on the sea. A moment passes when you look up at the sight, remembering when Luffy had asked you to join him. The image of the ship was parallel to the day you joined the Strawhats: you were on the island looking at the Going Merry and making a decision that would change your life.

You walk, up to the deck, confused about the silence until you hear a yell from inside the kitchen.

"LUFFY!! What are you doing!! That's for [y/n]!!!"

"But I'm hungryyy!! She won't mind, she always shares with me!!"

"You ate at the restaurant!!"

When you open the door, you are met by the sight of Nami trying to wrangle food from Luffy's clutches. You recognised the meal as something your favourite restaurant makes, it was your favourite meal, and something you missed dearly, along with the island. There are two beats of silence until Luffy turns, face suddenly going from frustrated to a wide grin the instant he notices you.

"[y/n]!!"

Luffy jumps from the spot where he had been trying to steal food from Nami, instantly enveloping you in a hug that takes you stumbling back a few steps. Nami sighs loudly before putting the packed meal on the counter and stomping outside the kitchen.

"Idiot... I'll be on the island with the crew!!"

She doesn't wait for your reply and leaves the kitchen in abrupt frustration. Luffy doesn't seem to mind her absence though as he lifts his head from where he embraces you, a smile tugging against the corners of his lips. Still downtrodden from the day's events and trials, you take the sight in and feel the weight of the day fall onto you and disappear at the same time. Tears start to line your eyes once more, but you hold them in, unfortunately for you, however, Luffy notices your quiet and despondency.

"[y/n]? What's wrong?"

He releases you from his deathly embrace as he looks at you seriously. You on the other hand laugh softly as you shake your head, suddenly relieved to be with your boyfriend and away from the friends who made you feel so awful about yourself.

"Nothing's wrong... I just missed you."

Luffy hums in contemplation, staring and tilting his head for several moments as though analysing your features for a trace of a lie. But you guess your words are not a lie. You did miss him after all, more than ever when you were with your childhood friends; a burden and outcast. Your smile is still on your lips, and though sadder than usual, Luffy decides to trust you, as he matches your expression with a grin.

"I missed you too!! Look, we got something for you."

Luffy instantly turns to the counter where Nami just put the meal she claimed to have gotten you. Luffy smiles cheekily as he hands it to you. You smile at the gesture, it was a massive assortment of foods the local chef knew you adored.

"Wanna eat together?"

You don't even have to ask as Luffy jumps on a chair by the dining room table, eagerly waiting for you to join him. However, he must've sensed something was off with you because instead of going straight into the meal, he watches as you unpack it carefully. There was more food than you thought there would be, so you were glad you had enlisted your boyfriend's help to devour it. You pick up your fork and take a bite, savouring the way the food melts in your mouth, and ignites feelings of nostalgia buried so deep within you that it almost makes you cry.

"Luffy, this is sooo good!!"

"Really!?"

You turn and grin, but are taken aback when you witness the way Luffy is smiling to you. It is in a way that seems gentler, and softer than usual. There is adoration in his eyes like you were the treasure he searched the seas for, but hidden within are also the depths of understanding you do not usually see. It is instantly diminished, however, as he clutches a fork and takes a bite of the meal himself, face brightening at the taste. However, as he speaks there is a serious undertone that makes you think that maybe he was not so quick to diminish your sullen behaviour earlier.

"Your friends... They weren't nice to you, were they?"

You freeze and look to your Captain who looks from the food to you imploringly, a serious glint in his eyes, but a sad smile on his face.

"What do you-"

"You only look like that, when you had a bad day."

Luffy's lips turn to a frown now as he bites into the meal and lets the silence linger between the two of you. Still surprised by his words, but also moved by the way your oblivious captain seems to understand you to no end, you smile softly despite the tears that fall from your eyes, now unstoppable. Luffy still looks at you in concern, as he witnesses the upturn of your lips, and the falling of tears, and he waits for the words you speak softly.

"Yeah. They were different, changed, and maybe this isn't the home it used to be..."

You look to your boyfriend who remains patiently waiting for you to finish speaking your thoughts. You remember back to when you accepted his offer to join the crew. You recall the adventures you went on, your beloved crewmates and how so many had joined and how you had all come so much closer, like the family you never had. You remember confusing love confessions due to Luffy's inability to understand his feelings.

You remember the depths of care your boyfriend held throughout the entirety of your relationship.

How he would listen when you spoke of your adventures, lured in by the spark in your eyes when you talked of something enthusiastically. How he would laugh and smile and never make you feel excluded from the company around you. How he treated you and his nakama with such importance and faith. The stark contrast to what you experienced today.

"... but it's okay. The crew is my home now."

You smile and Luffy's eyes widen for a second before he grins, his same, wide and unfaltering smile. The two of you share in your gaze once more before Luffy takes his Strwaht and places it on your head. It fits snugly atop your hair, but more so there lingers the symbol that you were accepted, loved, and adored by the man you sit beside. Smiles linger as the both of you continue to dig into the meal in front of you and soon, crewmates come back to the ship and greet you in their pure, true contentment.

"Hey [y/n]!!"

"Damn [y/n], you never told us how SUPERRR your island is!"

"I had a lovely time."

“So many cute dresses!!”

As you watch your crewmates gather around the table, their own meals in hand no doubt by the local cook who provided them, you let the heaviness of your heart dissipate for a while. Whilst this island still holds memories and places you adore, with people you still hold dear, it felt like for the first time in a long time, you know where you belong.

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cvnt4him · 1 year ago

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Reader who got hit w a bunny quirk during a mission w izu please smuttt I love yew💋

I love you too bbg💕

This is actually like a great idea and I had the EXACT same one except izuku was the bunny. Yeah this one is way fucking better.

"don't be amused, it's just the news! This just in; we have more details about pro heros deku and y/n's fight with the new and upcoming villain; sphinx. A local has given us amateur footage of y/n getting blasted with sphinx's quirk! They have the ability to turn others and themselves into animals! Y/n has been out of the hero scene for a while, as far as we know with the information her close friend and partner deku has given us, she's going to be out of hero work for a while, they haven't found a cure or much of a loophole with sphinx's quirk. Next in a cat stuck in a tre---"

You shut the TV off with a groan of annoyance. Why hadn't this gone away yet? You've been like this for a week. A long, miserable, insufferable, week. You weren't alone, even if you wanted to be, izuku wouldn't let you. He felt guilty, he felt as if you were like this because of him. During your fight together he pushed you out of the way when a flying car had come your way, you'd known nothing about the villain upon fighting them. Izuku however, knew everything about the villain, he pulled his mask up before the fight even began.

Izuku always got in a certain head space when fighting whether it be a measly robber, or a very experienced and high tech villain. He always made sure he was ready and that morning could take him out of this state. He just wishes he had warned you beforehand of what the villain was capable of.

You look at your reflection in the black TV screen with a frown. You hated the way you looked. Two fluffy bunny ears standing tall before falling to either side of your face. Izuku walks into your room going completely unnoticed, he spoke and sat down your cup of water but his words falling into deaf ears.

"y/n...?"

His voice nothing above a whisper, sitting beside you while patting your head lightly. People always shipped you two due to the way he treated you, don't get me wrong hes nice to everyone regardless of who they are or where they come from. People just liked to do stupid shit in their free time so you never really took it to heart, mostly because izuku always avoided and shut down all questions that surfaced about you two during interviews. Saying he only saw you as a friend.

You turn to him slowly your sad eyes staring up at him. He sighs while giving you a sad look back, putting your foreheads together. He hadn't left your side at all besides when he and to work, but he made sure to come right back to your apartment to assure that you were alright. It's not like you were sick or anything because you weren't. You could walk, talk, shower, cook, and do everything just fine, but he insisted you do nothing he felt far too guilty to even allow you to lift a finger. He once apologized for you telling him you thought about cooking on your own.

He whispers an "I'm sorry" while your heads are together, you simply chuckle and try to smile. Your quirk had been disabled due to being transformed. There's always a loophole in quirks so why hasn't anyone found one for sphinx's quirk? It was weighing on you far too heavily for either of your liking. Izukus heart ached for you to get better, he hated seeing you like this, all sad and unable to do anything for yourself. You can but for some odd reason he thinks you can't do you just let him take care of you.

Izuku pulls away, putting his fingers in your hair and scratching your scalp, the soothing motion making you sigh and lay your head on his shoulder. He hums with a smile that didn't meet his eyes, he grabs the remote from you and puts on a movie, grabbing your cup of water to ensure that you are hydrated.

You both had fallen asleep on each other, his head on top of yours while you laid on his shoulder. You got up and stretched making him get more comfortable and turn his head to lay on a pillow beside him. You looked at him closely, admiring each and every freckle that littered his cheeks and slightly down his neck his chest moving up and down in a smooth rhythm. He looked so peaceful not having to worry and feel guilty for your current state. Your body moved on it's own, one of your hands moving to his chest rubbing up and down his body. He was very toned, you knew this you could practically see it through his new skin tight suit. It hugged his body deliciously.

You couldn't take your eyes off of him, his shirt was slightly raised and scrunched up ending just above his v line, the way it looked like it was sculpted by gods. He looked like a Greek god himself. His body was fucking hot.

Your tail wiggled and twitched against the bed light noise coming from the way it moved. You bit your lip lightly while looking down where his shorts hugged his waist. Your eyes kept trailing down his figure landing on where a tent in his shorts sat. He was completely flaccid yet his thick cock made a very visible print. Fuck this was really turning you on, he was completely unconscious and unaware of how you were fucking him with your eyes. Your hand moved down to his dick print and gently rubbed over it making him take a deep breath and breathe out slowly, you noticed this and continued your movements while staring at his face, a pink hue forming onto his baby-like cheeks.

You watched as he gulped and turned his head in your direction with a breathy and quick sigh, he was getting bothered by how you teased his semi erect cock. His brows slightly furrowed while you stopped your hands movements completely, his cock twitched against your hand making your eyes shoot down to his cock, seeing it fully erect and leaking slightly against his thin shorts. God this was such a sight, it was so fucking hot and lewd, you felt guilty for getting him all hot and bothered but seeing the way his cock twitched and bobbed up and down for your touch was hypnotizing.

Without thinking you hopped onto his lap you weight sitting on top of him making him shift under you, that was almost enough to snap you out of whatever trance he put you in but the way he put his hands on your thighs and rubbed them out you right back into the daze you never got out of.

Your tail wiggled against his thigh as you slowly grind into him, rubbing your clothes pussy against his clothed cock in a slow yet rough manner. a moan accidentally slipped out of your mouth when his cock rubbed against your clit in the best way.

You panted lightly as the grind of your hips started to quicken in pace, you dug your hips down into his to feel his cock press against you. A noise left his throat as he gripped your waist tightly, his grasp bruising your skin while pushing you down more into him. You didn't think about the fact that he might've woken up due to your moans and the way you moved helplessly on top of him. He rubbed his cock up into you to feel that light friction that had him dizzy.

You grabbed onto his shoulders and rode him like you were actually riding his cock. The thought alone of actually getting to ride his cock getting you to that building release. He moaned deeply before his eyes slightly opened and peered up at you, you were too busy in your own haze to acknowledge the way he looked at you, your fucked out face contorting in such a pretty way.

He couldn't believe you were using him while he was asleep, riding his clothed cock for all that it's worth. He bit his lip and flipped the both of you, a scream ripping right out of you as you look up at him with wide scared eyes. He could only look down at you with lust filled ones. His emerald orbs looking at every feature that painted your body, the way your thighs looked more plump because of your shorts. Your boobs spilling out the top of your tank top. You looked so good and the way you looked at him with those scree and glossy eyes went straight to his aching cock. He was so ready to split you in half on his thick cock, he knew you'd have a struggle but it'd be worth it just to be inside of you. He'd wait as long as he'd have to just to feel your pussy squeeze around his cock.

No words were said as he went in to kiss you, lightly pressing his dry but soft lips against yours. A moan left you as your tail wiggled underneath you, you were so horny and you could feel the way it ate you alive from the inside out, you were so close to crying from how much it burned inside of you.

"please.. please fuck me, I need it."

You whispered up to him with a raspy voice, whining as your eyes moved down to his cock, it looked like it was going to burst out of his shorts with the way it stood up proudly.

He smirked at you with lidded eyes while he kissed you neck, you closed your eyes and fell into the soft kisses being planted on your sensitive neck, he moved his kisses up to your bunny ears blowing on them lighting, the soft feeling of it all making your pussy throb and a whimper leave you lips.

He chuckled lowly to himself as he flipped you over into your stomach. He pressed his chest and his hard cock against your ass cheek as he whispered in your ear.

"using me while I sleep? naughty thing. poor bunny, must need it badly, hm?"

You nodded your head aggressively while rubbing your ass against his hard on, earning a low groan from the muscular man above you.his weight on you felt so good and it wasn't even sexual at all.

He slipped your shorts and underwear down in one swift move, he pulled his own down as he teased your dripping hole, slipping his engorged cock head in and out of your lips. Your eyes roll as you lift your ass in the air and wiggle against his cock. he's surprised by this, a chuckle leaving him while he pulls you back by your ears, a squeak leaving you while he slaps your ass.

"you're so fucking needy huh? this sopping wet cunny of yours dripping around my cock, hm?"

You nod again, not being able to speak due to your throat getting rather dry. He hums and slips his cock in halfway before taking it out quickly, this went on for about 5 minutes, the torture was so funny to him yet painful for you. You felt as if you were going to die, the heat forming inside of you burned badly. You needed release, finally being def up with his teasing, the second he tried to do it again you slammed your ass back onto him taking his cock fully, a choked moan leaving his pink lips.

He groaned loudly while lying his head on your shoulder with a smile, he was out of breath from you taking his cock fully. He chuckled against your skin while kissing it, he bit harshly on the skin of your shoulder making you scream while he thrusted vigorously into your soaked pussy, the squelching noises clouding his mind while he moaned into your ear and grabbed onto your bunny ears. The sensitive muscle being pulled painfully hard went straight to your throbbing cunt, the way he slammed his hips into you and hit that spot repeatedly was just enough to make you cum, but he knew you were going to by the way you started squeezing his cock for all he was worth, milking him and slicking his cock up with your fluid.

“A-Agh fuck don’t stop- don’t fuckin stop.”

You command him while throwing your ass back, you were feeling too good you felt as if you weren't even in control, the way your body moved lewdly against him was inhumane and unlike you. You'd never felt the need to be near someone like this, like you yearned for his very touch, for him to cum inside of you. Oh. God that sounded so good, the thought of his warm thick cum spilling and spreading inside of you made you squeeze around his cock even more.

Just when you felt as if you were going to cum you felt the need leave. He had pulled out of your cunt with a groan, his cock twitched from the cold ajr hitting the leaky tip. He looked down at your pussy squeezing around nothing, god you were so fucking needy and that made him go feral. He could practically smell the delicious scent you released. Your tail twitched fastly, catching his attention. He had asked you before questions about your body and if anything felt different, he hadn't asked about your tails however, he was curious if it was sensitive. Out of pure curiosity he pushed his thick cock back inside of you, and yanked at your tails, his tight grip on your ears never leaving.

He used them to bring you back more into him. You let out a high pitched moan as your arms gave out, your body felt like it was on fire, throwing your ass back against him while your thighs burned from the work.

“fu— m'cum— cumming!!“

You couldn't control it, it just ripped out of you. The feeling was far too strong to hold back or even pretend not to acknowledge you groaned while sobbing, tears falling from your face due to the extra stimulation. He cooed in your ear, coaxing you through your orgasm while never letting you in the way he fiddled with your tail, his other hand leaving your floppy ears to go to your clit, rubbing it slowly while speeding up his hips.

"nngh~ izu— Izu-"

You couldn't speak from the immense pleasure, it began to hurt due to overstimulation. You sobbed and hiccupped against the pillows as he drilled his cock into you, he groaned and grunted behind you moans leaving his lips as well.

"shit...- fuck— god dammit, u/n I'm gonna cu- cum again.. shit take it, fucking take it all.."

Again?! He'd already came?? Maybe that's why you thought about his warm cum spreading and claiming every spot inside of you. Because he already did.

You couldn't move or even speak, the way he bucked his hips into yours, stuttering and rhythm becoming uneven. He threw his head back with a moan as he came again, tears welling at the corner of his eyes. He felt so good, your fluttering walks squeezing and convulsing around his soft turning cock.

He collapsed beside you without a word. His eyes closed as he tried to steady his breaths, he hasn't felt this good in so long, it's been a while since he'd last been with anyone. He took pride in his job, he'd wanted to be a hero since he was a kid, however it did take him away from a lot of things, including interacting with people and making new friends.

He needed this and he's glad you gave It to him. He turned to check on you to see you had already passed out, he rubbed your back lightly making you shiver underneath his touch. He got up to assure you were alright, making sure you water was refilled and that you could be clean, he grabbed a warm damp towel to clean you but before he did he got a good look at the two loads that were fucked into you, slowly oozing from your still convulsing lips. Fuck this was a sight to see, he was afraid he'd never get to see it again. He hates what he did but, he had to save this moment forever! A picture to remember this morning by! After all, you won't be a bunny forever.

AN: this was very fun to write actually, I've recently been in a chokehold w top!izuku there's something ab him being mean or js taking care of me that gets to me.

Dividers by @anitalenia

#cvnts-post #mha #mha x reader #deku x reader #izuku x reader #boku no hero academia #izuku is so girlie pop #cvnts-reqs #deku smut #izuku midoriya smut #izuku smut #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku midoriya #mha izuku #midoriya x reader #midoriya izuku x reader #deku x reader smut #deku

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cozage · 1 year ago

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Hii!! Can you write some headcanon about how they are with their s/o after 20 or 30 years passed? Or in their old age. Ace Law and Zoro please.(Please include Ace. You know what i mean right? 🥺) With a female reader. Thank you ❤️

A/N:Forgive any typos please :) Characters: gn reader x Ace, Law, Zoro Cw: None :) Total word count: 1k

Years Passed

Ace

After Whitebeard passed, Ace was one of the top contenders to lead the pirate crew, but ultimately the Whitebeard Pirates disbanded. It didn’t feel right without Pops. The two of you sailed around with a smaller ship for a few years before retiring to your favorite island.

That being said, you all still take trips to other islands or sail for a while to celebrate special occasions.

While you all don’t go out drinking nearly as much as you used to, you’re still regulars at the local tavern. On Friday nights they like to play music, and you trade stories with the new “kids” who are brave enough to take on the Grand Line.

He still brings you breakfast in bed every Saturday morning, complete with fresh-cut flowers. Breakfast is never the same; he always seems to know just what you're in the mood for.

You all ended up having kids. Ace wanted one hundred, but you cut him off after three.

He still likes to bring home a stray kid he found on the side of the street every now and then, and you never minded having the extra rooms filled for as long as they needed to stay. Some stayed for only a few days, some stayed for years. You loved them all the same.

Just about every night, the two of you make it a priority to sit out and watch the sunset. The moments together are truly what makes life feel worth living

Even after all these years, he sticks up for you and loves you without shame. He’s never afraid to show you off or plant a kiss on your lips when he thinks someone else is eyeing you. He loves to brag about you and all of the light you’ve given him over the years to just about anyone who will listen.

Law

It took Law a long time to find a place worth settling down in. You all finally decided on Zou.

It made sense. He was a wandering spirit, Zou was a wandering civilization. He could still move about while being in one place. Plus, you always had a feeling he would have a harder time parting with Bepo than he ever let on.

He ended up working as a doctor for the minks (no surprise there) and found that his favorite part of the day was when he got to help kids feel better.

Your moment of peace and tranquility, even after all these years, is the morning cup of coffee you all share. You never get tired of that simple moment between the two of you, and you cherish it with your whole heart.

Every Friday, Bepo’s family comes over for dinner. The kids typically put on some silly play or performance or rope you all into games they want to play, and you all will stay awake far longer than you ever care to admit.

You always complain about how exhausted you are on Saturdays, and Law promises “We’ll kick them out earlier next week”, but you never do. You would never want to limit your time with Bepo and his family anyway, the complaining is more to get out of any chores you may have promised to do.

Law loves in the quietest of ways. He prefers to stay in and curl up on the couch, or he’ll bring you a book to read in bed alongside him. But he never goes to sleep without kissing you first.

Zoro

Zoro still groans when you get out of bed. He almost always pulls you back in with a “five more minutes” mumble. You had begun accounting for this delay years ago, but it still makes your heart flutter when he pulls you back in and wraps his arms around you so that you can’t escape.

He runs his own dojo now, that operates solely off of donations (and the load of gold you all have from your pirating days). Kids can come to practice, or they can live and work there too. It’s a very satisfying occupation for both of you.

Funnily enough, Zoro found a strange love for cooking. Well, grilling. He loves to grill. You used to joke about it being a necessary qualification to be a dad, but now he just tries to grill everything. Dinner is almost always covered, but you never know what new thing he’s going to try (and yes, he does have a really corny apron like “#1 Grillmaster” or something).

He likes to stay in most of the time nowadays. If you go out, it’s usually to a small place that is more family-style than bars.

However, he likes to go to a bar with you sometimes and pretend that you all don’t know each other. He’ll spend the whole night flirting with you and finally end the night with “So, you coming home with me or what?”. He ALWAYS has new pickup lines or witty things to say to you.

Zoro prefers to keep you to himself. He guards you fiercely and will defend you to death if someone even considers looking at you wrong. The first thing he teaches at the dojo is that you deserve respect above anyone else, and disrespect to you will mean immediate dismissal from the program. He can’t stand to see anything that might cause you pain.

#one piece #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #one piece x reader #one piece x you #portgas d ace #ace x reader #trafalgar law #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #roronoa zoro #zoro #zoro x reader #✧˚ace✧˚#✧˚law✧˚#✧˚zoro✧˚

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 2 months ago

Text

more tlm references 😳

Part 1 (Episodes 1 + 2) here! This post covers references in Episode 3 of the event.

Many people walk dogs in Seaglass Park. It seems dogs are a popular pet in Ultramarine City! This is because the mermaid princess’s human prince—Eric—is said to have cherished dogs. In fact, he once leapt into danger to help his dog (Max). The people of Ultramarine City honor his courageous act by keeping dogs of their own and by holding dog races and grooming contests. (Side note, Jade claims that a stray cat is also a dog??? And I recall Azul also saying he had trouble telling what is and is not a dog…? But is Jade just saying this to fuck with us?? Because he, Floyd, and Azul seem to understand what dogs are in Jack’s Labwear vignettes…)

Tile crafts are popular since building materials strong against moisture and salinity are needed in a coastal town. For the same reason, ceramics are also popular. Jade mentions music boxes with ceramic figures are common. AND ARIEL PLAYS WITH A MUSIC BOX IN HER TREASURE GROTTO IN PART OF YOUR WORLD… (A music box is also what King Triton gifted Queen Athena, Ariel’s mom, before she died.) He used to find such items in shipwrecks and played with them. (We know that Jade likes to scavenge and collect things from the bottom of the sea, which is very Ariel-like!)

The Port Inn Plaza looks EXACTLY like the town square from Eric’s Kingdom 😭

In this part of the world, it’s perfectly okay to walk up to puppeteers and take their puppets to put on your own shows! The tradition started when a merman unfamiliar with land took a puppet from a performer; this ended up livening up the show and getting more audience engagement.

The puppet show the NRC students put on is reenacting Eric in the aftermath of Ariel rescuing him 😭 They recite lines about a girl with a beautiful voice having rescued them… Jade goes the extra mile and also acts out Grimsby’s lines + Max the dog’s lines OTL (Yes, barking.)

I don’t recall horses being prominent in TLM outside of the carriage date, but it’s interesting to see them being taken care of in Ultramarine City. Because the sun is so strong, they swap out horses to avoid them getting heatstrokes. The stores also sell many equestrian supplies, including mane combs and hoof brushes, wood carvings of horses, photos, paintings, and charms.

The town sells old fashioned telescopes as a popular souvenir item, even if their performance is limited. Just like how Scuttle used one!!

The mermaid princess and human prince’s wedding was held on a ship. That particular ship’s design is often depicted in story books, paintings, and in model ships.

During the couple’s date on a small boat, fish spouted water and circled them. Water guns shaped like fish have become a local specialty because of this tale.

Dancing is popular! Of course, this is a nod to Ariel and Eric’s dancing scene in the film. Yuu gets a dialogue option here; if you express not being confident in dancing, Jade tells you not to worry; no matter how bad you are at dancing, he will support you. LIKE HOW ERIC HELPED ARIEL...

Riddle and Malleus, who have only ever been taught formal dancing, feel awkward just… moving along to the music. Rook encourages their hearts to lead them and to move how they feel. While this may just be me projecting (it’s much less explicit than everything else so far), this could be a reference to the musical version of TLM. In the song One Step Closer, Eric encourages Ariel to let her emotions come through in her dancing, which is a sentiment VERY similar to the advice Rook offers his peers.

AYO A KISS THE GURL RHYTHMIC?????!?!?!?! 😳 WitH J WoRD ROWInG THE BOAt???!?!?!!?! (So they can get a preview of what the bride snd groom’s course will look like!) HALLELEIGHSH, prAISE bE \o/

LOL????? One of the crabs they caught for dinner escaped (SEBASTIAN OUTSMARTED THE CHEF)…

The plating of the crab dish is also the exact same as how Sebastian was almost served up in the film!

Grim tries to capture the escaped crab and causes a big mess + ruckus! Just like in Les Poissons!!

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tinydefector · 1 year ago

Text

Human's effects

More a silly little thing that I had to write out.

Warnings: talks about sex, xenophilia, kinks

Word count: 3k

Masterlist

Human Effects 2 - characters

Request are open

____

There were a lot of things that fascinated the cybertronians over humans. Their size, body types, skin tones and those soft they are.

So many of them become so fascinated over the fact that such small and fragile creatures don't have plating to protect themselves but only wear soft fabrics.

And it slowly leads a lot of Cybertronians to realising they were Xenophiles.

A list of kinks and fetishes cybertronians discovered from it.

-size kink

-skin fetish

- hair pulling

- silk and ribbon play

- cum inflation

-breeding

-pet play

- vore

-fluid play and consumption

- spiking warming

- Heart and spark syncing

- new spike and Valve modifications to test on their human lover

There's originally a lot of unknowns about humans, and cybertronians are rather intrigued, for one the first times the a lot of the crew of lost light had encountered them was on black market and high priced pets, and companions.

There were exceptions such as Perceptor, Ratchet and Megatron who had been around humans before but for a lot of the bots this was their first time seeing them. that is until they are assigned a human communications, relations Ambassador/ liaison.

But after the black market incident it had led a lot of bots into research over humans. And it just spirals more with them discovering some rather dark history with cybertronians keeping humans as playthings. And finding out their ‘interface equipment’ isn't that different from their own, just more organic and smaller.

A late night of drinking at swerve slowly devolved into conversation over their local human. Brainstorm sits nursing his drink of engex while he and others of the ship chat away. "So does it fascinate anyone else over the fact that humans don't have natural plating or any kind of protection for their squishy form?" He brings up, he himself had fallen down the rabbit hole of human porn but didn't quite know how to breach the subject with anyone else.

"Oh Primus, look who decided to join us, thought you were holding up with your Conjunx Chrome!" Swerve said with a chuckle, placing more drinks down. He hopped up onto one of the bar stools and leaned in eagerly, His attention flicks to Brainstorm. "You bring up a good point, Brainstorm," Swerve replied.

"Those squishy humans are really something else, ain't they? No armour, no defences - I'd be scared outta my circuits if I was just soft protoform all the time!, like i’m so surprised squishy hasn't been stepped on yet"

Rodimus nodded in agreement. "Yet they've managed to survive just fine so far. There's obviously more to them than meets the eye. Like i've seen some of the things our ambassador can do like the strange stretching"

"I dunno," Skids chimed in. "Seems pretty fraggin' reckless if you ask me. One good shot and it lights out!"

Rewind shuddered. "Ugh, don't remind me. Just thinking about all those organics and tubes and who knows what else squishing around in there makes my fuel tank turn." He made a dramatic churning sound effect.

Riptide laughed. "I saw a nature documentary once about these hairless ape creatures the humans evolved from. Now THOSE guys were squishy."

“What in Primus have you been watching?!”

“some old earth docs that Percy’s has, bots got a lot of info on Terra and the planet's history” The bots shared a collective laugh at the image. Swerve took a swig of his energon. "Frag, maybe there's something to be said about living on the edge like that! Sure keeps things interesting, its still strange that they are somehow one of the top predators of their planet yet are smaller than half the things they eat"

Brainstorm goes quiet for a moment. "Have you seen how flexible they are?"

Swerve nearly spit out his energon. "Whoa hey, I don't need those kinds of vivid imagery floatin' around my processor thank you very much!, keep the squishy interface vids to yourself" he said, waving his hands animatedly.

"You have to admit, the way those fleshbags can contort themselves is pretty impressive," Skids added. "Must come in handy for.. maintenance." He waggled his optical ridges suggestively.

Brainstorm nodded pensively. "Indeed. Their non-metal structure allows for feats we could never replicate by ourselves." He took a sip of his energon. "Always makes me curious what other evolutionary adaptations they've developed to compensate for such vulnerability. The potential for scientific discovery is endlessly fascinating with their species and ancestors."

Riptide shrugged. "As long as they don't expect ME to try any of their bone-breaking yoga moves," he laughed. "This chassis is meant for tough stuff, not Twister!"

"You think they would be soft, you know if you interface with one?" Brainstorm asked while downing his drink, the engex was slowly going to his processor loosening his lips.

"Oh don't give me that look I know for a fact you all have thought about doing with a human at least once! Rodimus I know for a fact you eye them up everytime our little liaison walks past you" He calls out Rodimus.

Rodimus nearly choked on his energon in an attempt to look innocent. "Wh-what? That's not - I never -" he sputtered in protest, flustered optics darting around at the other bots.

Brainstorm smirked as Rodimus squirmed uncomfortably on the stool. "Oh please, don't try to deny it, Captain. You're about as subtle as a combiner in a supply closet."

"Roddy's got the hots for squishy, who knew!" Swerve giggled uncontrollably.

Skids nudged Riptide playfully. "Hey, maybe we got a xenophiliac on the ship!"

"Alright alright, knock it off you glitches," Rodimus growled, though the blue flush across his face said otherwise. "I was just... curious, that's all. They ARE a strange species."

Swerve tried to contain his laughter. "Ohhh I bet you are more than curious, if you catch my drift!, wanna get up close and personal" More raucous peals of laughter from the group.

Brainstorm stroked his chin in thought. "They do feel intriguingly delicate. I wonder if their flexible frames would be more pleasurable to interface with than our own rigid forms..."

"Have you seen videos of them, they stretch a lot, like a lot, like I know human skin is resilient but i didn't think they were that resilient " Brainstorm states remembering some of the videos he had seen online. Other bots peak up intrigued.

Swerve choked again as his fuel tank nearly turned inside out. "Brainstorm! That's... more than I needed to visualise, thank you very much."

Skids seemed a bit less phased. "Fleshbags gettin' their twist on, huh? Can't say I'm not curious now."

Even Rodimus seemed intrigued despite his earlier protests. "Resilient is an understatement. I've seen some of the contortions that humans can do - it's astounding that their protoforms don't tear apart."

Brainstorm nodded enthusiastically. "Precisely! With the right lubrication and technique, I hypothesise an interface with a limber human form would provide entirely novel sensory data."

Riptide shifted uncomfortably. "Not sure I'm ready to dive into the fleshy deep end just yet.”

Swerve shot him a sly grin. "Aw c'mon Rip, live a little! Where's your sense of adventure?"

Rodimus tried to steer the subject elsewhere. "Let's maybe change topics before someone needs a wipe down. Or Primus forbid, Magnus overhears you lot"

"I hope I did not hear what my processor just heard" Ultra Magnus states while staring down at the group of drinking mechs. A Lot of bots in the bar snicker at the group getting in trouble.

"Come on Sir, get that wrench out of you aft, join us!" Skids called out.

Swerve let out an audible squeak at Ultra Magnus's stern tone, almost dropping his engex in panic. "U-Um, Magnus sir! Fancy seeing you here. We were just, uh, discussing..."

He shot desperate optics at the others for help, but they all seemed to shrink down in their seats under Magnus's disapproving glare.

Rodimus flashed an uneasy grin. "Just having a friendly debate about alien species, you know how it is. Brainstorm was bringing up some, er, interesting biological points..."

Ultra Magnus sighed wearily. "I'd rather not know the details, thank you. Some topics are best left undiscussed in public."

The whole bar erupted into laughter at the group's misfortune. "Ah lay off em Magnus!" one patron called out. "They're just havin' fun!"

Another bot piped up. "Yeah, loosen up that rusty chassis and join us! One drink won't hurt."

Magnus scowled, unamused. But as the encouragement grew louder, he glanced around hesitantly...

Swerve spotted an opening. "C'mon Magnus, live a little! I'll even give you a two-for-one special." He flashed a hopeful grin.

The enforcer grumbled but his resolve was cracking. Against his better judgement, he pulled up a stool. "One drink." Swerve whooped and poured him a double.

They cheer as Magnus sits down to drink with them. Skids speak up. "So brainstorm you saying you'd hook up with a fleshy, get nice and personal with a human" he calls out with a laugh.

Brainstorm leaned forward eagerly. "Why of course! The pursuit of scientific knowledge knows no boundaries. Though upon further review, direct interfacing with an organic might require certain, ah, safety protocols."

Skids peered at him suspiciously. "Exactly what kind of 'research' are you plannin' on doing Brainy?"

Swerve nudged Riptide with a smirk. "I'll bet ya 20 shanix Brainstorm's just trying to find an excuse to get jiggy with the humies!"

Riptide snorted. "No way, I ain't takin' THAT bet!"

Rodimus dropped his face in his palms with a groan. "can we PLEASE stop picturing Brainstorm fragging humans?"

Ultra Magnus coughed on his engex, catching the comment he'd really rather not have heard.

But Brainstorm paid them no mind, lost in scientific contemplation. "The human capacity for sensory input and feedback would provide a rich study on cross-species interface protocol adaptability..."

"INTERFACE PROTOCOLS?!" Swerve shrieked. The table erupted into howls of laughter at Magnus's deeply uncomfortable expression. It was going to be a LONG night indeed.

“Primus Brainstorm you kinky fragger”

"Fine then everyone servo up if your not at least somewhat curious or thought about it at least once" Brainstorm calls out to all of Swerve's bars patrons

"Oooh, Brainstorm's putting us all on the spot!" Swerve giggled with gleeful mischief. He raised his servo without hesitation.

Skids was quick to follow suit, slamming his half-empty glass down. "Frag it, I'll admit it! Those soft squishy bodies got me wonderin' what else they're good for."

To everyone's surprise, Rodimus sheepishly lifted a servo as well, avoiding optic contact with Ultra Magnus. Riptide shrugged and joined in the show of servos, if only to blend in.

The majority of bots in the bar started raising their hands amid roars of laughter and drunken encouragement. Only a select few hesitated, shooting nervous glances at Magnus.

The enforcement officer's expression cycled through outrage, resignation and back to outrage as his gaze swept over the forest of raised servos. "I cannot condone such deviant interest in alien biologies," he protested, voice stiff.

But as more servos stayed stubbornly aloft, Magnus sagged with a weary sigh. After a long moment, he slowly, begrudgingly raised one massive hand as well.

The bar erupted into ear-splitting cheers. Swerve howled with glee, banging his fists on the counter. "Look's like we've all got a bit of xenophile in us after all! Even you, Magnus my mech!"

Magnus buried his faceplate in his servos as Brainstorm cackled maniacally. Once the bar settles back down its Swerve who speaks up with a smirk on his faceplate. "So... which one of you charming mechs are gonna be the first to try and get our lovely Liaison?" He teases.

Rodimus sputtered into his drink at Swerve's question, flushing brighter. "W-what? I never said anything about actually doing anything!, it's all just fantasies Swerve!" he protested in a hissed tone.

Skids rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm, well they do have a cute lil' figure. Bet they'd be a wild ride..."

Swerve grinned slyly at Rodimus. "Aw c'mon Captain, don't tell me you ain't thought about it at least once! I bet they'd be real fun to break in, get all soft and pliable..."

Rodimus smacked Swerve upside the helm. "Knock it off!" He shot a pleading glance at Ultra Magnus as if begging for rescue.

But unexpectedly, Brainstorm was the one who spoke up. "While the organic's flexibility is intriguing, directly interfacing could introduce unknown health risks or cultural taboos. Outside the fact our people have kept humans as pets and companions in the past. A more ethical approach would be gaining consent for strictly observational research."

Riptide frowned. "Not sure the liaison would go for that either Storm"

Swerve sighed dreamily. "Just imagine wrapping those soft squishy bits all around you though... bet they'd feel amazing..."

"SWERVE." Magnus's warning tone silenced the cheeky bartender immediately. He turned back to Rodimus with a sigh. "Despite certain... Curiosities, directly engaging an organics such a manner would be unwise, dangerous even, not to mention our form are much larger and could harm a human."

Rewind nodded gratefully at Magnus, relieved the subject was shifting. But the mischievous glint in Swerve's optic suggested his teasing wasn't over yet. It was going to be a long night indeed.

"Relax Mags I'm just riling these drunk mech up. Unless you're interested in our sweet little ambassador" he teases, making other bots choke on their drinks.

Ultra Magnus's icy glare could have frozen Swerve's energon. "Need I remind you this conversation is highly inappropriate and unprofessional," he said sternly.

But to everyone's surprise, Rodimus let out an undignified snort of laughter. "As if Magnus would ever break protocol like that! He'd probably recite the entire Autobot code of conduct while fragging."

The whole bar erupted in howls of mirth at the mental image.

Swerve was nearly rolling on the floor. "Can you imagine?! 'Paragraph 3, subsection B clearly states interfacing with sentient aliens requires prior diplomatic clearance forms in triplicate!'" he cried in a mockingly stiff voice.

Skids were wiping away fuel tears. "Primus if MR. RULES AND REGS ever broke the rules, it'd be one for the history archives!"

Riptide jabbed Skids in the side. "Ten shanix says he'd have them memorising regulations the whole time!"

"Twenty shanix says they'd run screaming first!" Swerve shot back.

The bets and ribbing escalated as more mechs joined in. Across the table, Rodimus shoved Magnus playfully. "C'mon Magnus, live on the wild side for once!"

Magnus's rumbling huff was the only response. Watching his rigid commander finally loosening up filled Swerve with delight. Somehow, some way, he'd find a way to get Magnus to break protocol yet! It was shaping up to be the best night ever.

"Ohhh let's make this fun. I list some bots and you say if you think they would hook up with a human" Riptide states. "Rung, Drift and Ratchet" he calls out the names.

Swerve let out a dramatic gasp. "Ooh spicy!"

"Rung is definitely curious but way too professional. Might let loose over a couple cubes of engex though!"

Skids broke into hysterics at Riptide's suggestions. "Rung and a HUMAN?! Rung doesn't even touch his OWN interface panel!"

Rodimus snorted. "Can you imagine? 'My dear, it seems you're experiencing some psychological interfacing blockers. Please, tell me how that makes you feel.'"

"Drift guy's definitely intrigued by other species, if you know what I mean. Plus he's artsy so he'd probably appreciate the 'aesthetic'." Swerve responds

"Drift might go for it, he's open to new experiences," Rodimus mused with a grin.

Brainstorm nodded thoughtfully. "Indeed, his spiritual philosophies suggest an openness to cultural exchange that others may lack. I think if he and ratchet weren't together its something he might try"

"Ratchet. bah! As if that grumpy old rust-bucket would try anything so illogical. Unless she's a doctor too and starts quoting his favourite protocols... then all bets are off!" Skids laughed.

"Ratchet? Nah, too much of a hard aft. He'd just bitch about human biohazards the whole time," Swerve giggled.

"Well if Drift was interested I'm pretty sure that mecn could get ratchet to do anything with the bat of his optics" Rodimus remarks.

The table erupted in raucous laughter. Swerve took a playful bow. "Alright bring on the next victims!"

Riptide rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm, how about...Tailgate, Cyclonus, and Whirl?"

Swerve cackled wickedly. "Tailgate would be way too nervous but he'd try for his Conjunx Cyclonus. Cyclonus would 100% use his broody vibes to charm her pants off but only for Tailgate. And Whirl? He doesn't interface, he destroys! So that liaison better watch her interfacing ports around that lunatic!"

Chromedome interjects stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Tailgate would be way too nervous and shy, I think. He'd probably short-circuit just from holding hands!"

Riptide nodded. "Cyclonus has always struck me as the kinky type. Wonder if he's into those squishy bits like Brainstorm thinks..."

"Whirl would frag anything that moves," Rodimus interjected with a grimace. "But I don't think an organic would survive the experience!"

Brainstorm stroked his chin. "Indeed, Whirl's interfacing protocol subroutines seem rather...enthusiastic. Consent might be a fleeting concept. Better to observe from a safe distance."

Swerve shuddered. "Ugh, don't make me picture that psycho getting 'friendly' with a human! I'm tryna keep my fuel down y'know."

The names continue being dropped.

" First Aid! I don't know if the medic-bot's got it in him to break the rules. But I betcha if he did, he'd be real gentle and caring-like. He'd have them feelin' better than new in no time!"

Skids grinned devilishly. "Yeah but would they feel better? Aid's so straight and narrow I bet he'd put em in stasis lock from boredom!"

"Now Perceptor on the other hand..." Swerve tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Bookish type, but you know there's a passionate scientist in there waiting to experiment. Think he'd go slow and methodical, really take his time 'exploring the specimen'."

"his thirst for organic sciences might overpower his good sense," Rewind remarks.

“optimus prime, Prowl and bumblebee ” Chromedome interjects with his own inquiries.

Swerve pretended to wipe away exhaust fumes. "Primus help me, this is gonna be good... Optimus Prime is obviously Mister Morality himself, but you know he's got a secret wild side under all that virtue signalling. Just imagine how freaky he could get with some alien nookie!"

The bar erupted in incredulous, drunken laughter and cheers. Swerve grinned impishly.

"As for Prowl, I'm telling you that stick up his tailpipe is begging to come out and play. One roll in the berth with a naughty fleshy and he'd loosen up reeeal nice!"

"And Bee? He's a sweet kid, but you know what they say, it's always the quiet ones! Between his cute lil' face and that tight chassis, he'd have the human lining up to frag that glitch right into stasis!"

The bar absolutely lost it, bots falling over each other in drunken hysterics. Even Mirage was struggling not to fall off his chair. Swerve took an exaggerated bow as his audience howled.

"Thank you, thank you! I'll be here all cycle! Now who's ready for the next round?" More shouts and clanking glasses answered his call. It was shaping up to be the wildest night at Swerve's yet!

Magnus dropping Megatron's name that really sent them over the edge.

"Megatron?! With the liaison?!" Rodimus howled with laughter, nearly spitting out his drink. "That's the funniest thing I've heard all cycle!"

But Swerve wasn't done. "Megatron? Now THAT'S an image! 'You pathetic fleshbag, you DARE try to mount the great Megatron?! Grovel before my interface array!'"

Magnus adds more information which makes everyone surprised " He and the ambassador are rather close" He states

Rewind speaks up from Chromedome’s side. "Y'know... they do have a certain chemistry. I'll bet under all that scowling and chipped armour there's a softie just waitin' for the right tender touch to melt his spark. And they have got sass to spare bet they could handle Megatron's brooding and snarl!"

"Twenty shanix says he'd have them trembling and beggin' for mercy in no time flat!" Skids bet eagerly.

"You're on!" crowed Riptide. "But I still think Perceptor's the real dark horse..."

#transformers #rodimus #transformers x human #megatron #transformers idw #transformers x reader #transformers lost light #transformers megatron #mtmte swerve #chromedome #mtmte rewind #ultra magnus #valveplug

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marlynnofmany · 1 month ago

Text

Dangerous Teeth

As I watched the struggle with the door mechanism, I thought again that it was good we’d gotten our delivery done early. Planetary time zones being what they are, it’s usually inconvenient to land at a spaceport in the pre-dawn, while everyone on our ship is wide awake. Nothing to do but wait until the clients are ready to receive whatever we’re bringing them. Today though, our client was an early riser. I’d taken a short walk from the ship with Mur and Paint, and we’d dropped off three lightweight boxes of exotic moss. Then we were free to stop by the local food court as soon as it opened.

It wasn’t open yet, which is why we’d picked this nice little garden lounge to wait. It was indoors with artificial sun. It had a single door. That door had just thrown a rod or whatever, and now it refused to open again.

I sat on a low bench (awkwardly low) and watched while Mur and a Waterwill who’d also gotten stuck in here pried off the panel over the door mechanism. I would have liked to help somehow, but all my expertise was in biological things, not technological. Plus my fingers were nowhere near as maneuverable as Mur’s tentacles or whatever the Waterwills called their extendable tendrils. This one was making some very tiny ones, not the usual arm-chunks. Fingers would be no help here.

And Paint was handling the phone calls: she’d brought a bag with many pockets, planning to fill it with food, but so far all it contained was her communicator, and she was putting that to good use. She’d already notified our ship. Now she was trying to get ahold of someone official who could send a mechanic. She paced back and forth, rattling claws across her arm scales and speaking intensely.

That left me with nothing to do except sample the local snackberries, which were rooted in a pot next to the bench with a detailed sign about which species could safely eat them. Each branch was grafted from a different plant. There was an elaborate chart on that sign. As usual, the section for humans showed that we could eat every single berry there. Oh, and there were nuts too. Nice.

I tried something like a pistachio with a spiky shell, decided it was extremely average, then entertained myself briefly with the compost can next to the sign. The motion sensor / scanning field at the top of it would open only for acceptable compost. Any other trash was the responsibility of whoever brought it in here. I tossed the two shell halves in one at a time, watched the mini force field blink on and off, then looked for more nuts to do it again.

A quiet hello made me crane my neck in confusion. There was no way the bush could talk, right? Alien gene-splicing wouldn’t have gone that far. But thankfully no, it wasn’t science with questionable morals; it was somebody hiding on the other side.

“Hello!” I said, trying to get a better look. “Sorry, I didn’t see you back there.”

“That’s good,” said the brown-furred fellow huddled among the berries. “Maybe no one else will either.”

I glanced back at the door, but saw just my two coworkers and the Waterwill, none of whom were paying attention. I asked quietly, “Are you hiding from someone specific?”

“No,” he said, not elaborating. He took a mouthful of something green, and for a moment I thought he was eating the leaves of the berry bush, which weren’t on the list of edible items. But he lifted it higher for a second bite, and I could identify a handful of grasslike stuff from a different food pot. The fast-growing lettuce area. A herbivore specialty.

I told him, “I don’t think you have anyone to be afraid of here.”

He didn’t answer for a moment, just looking around with wide eyes and eating the rest of his handful of grass. His teeth were distinctly the gnawing sort. Finally, he asked, “Do you know how long it will take to get the door open?”

“Hard to say.” I turned back to see Mur and the Waterwill talking animatedly, the door still firmly shut. Paint looked like she was on hold. “Hopefully not long. If they can’t figure it out, the maintenance people should be able to open it from the other side.”

“I’ve seen them,” was the quiet response. “They’re scary.”

“The maintenance crew? Scary how?”

The guy got even quieter. “Flesh-eaters. There are so many here. I didn’t know when I came.”

I thought about my answer very carefully. “You know that none of them want to eat you, right? That sort of thing is horrifying to civilized society as a whole.”

The guy twitched his ears, which I hadn’t realized were folded back, in scared rabbit style. “They said that. Not sure if I believe it yet.”

“Society couldn’t function if people went around eating each other!” I insisted. “Think about it. People need to trust one another to some degree, otherwise they wouldn’t be able to cooperate when they’re all living together in the same place. Food comes from the food stores. Anyone who hurts another person intentionally is likely to get in trouble with the authorities. And that’s for small things, much less full-on killing and eating them!”

He twitched his nose, very rabbitlike. “But with all those sharp teeth, don’t they get tempted? Aren’t flesh-eaters hardwired to crave flesh when they’re hungry?”

“Not from other people who can talk back to them,” I said. “And most of the flesh-eaters I know prefer to cook their food.”

He bared his gnawing teeth. “Burning the flesh before they eat it. Horrifying.”

I wanted to ask if his people didn’t cook their food, since plenty of plants gave up more nutrition when softened like that, but I thought better of it. The answer was probably no, and he would ask about my people’s food, and that was a topic I wanted to steer well clear of. The poor guy had seen me eating plants and made an assumption that I wasn’t eager to correct.

Then, in what felt like very bad timing, Paint put her communicator away and walked back over. I winced. For probably the first time ever, I looked at the gentlest person on our ship, and really noticed her sharp teeth and claws.

Paint told me, “They said someone will be on the way soon. I couldn’t get them to specify soon exactly. Somehow this doesn’t seem like a high priority to them.” She frowned.

“That’s unfortunate,” I said. “Would you like to try a berry? There’s a chart here that says which is safe for who.”

“Goodness, what a lot of choices!” Paint looked at the chart, then at the bush. Then she bent down and peered between the branches. “Hello back there!”

The rabbity guy was silent, frozen in place like a very frightened lawn decoration. He didn’t even blink.

I sighed, then told her quietly, “He’s afraid of flesh-eaters.”

Paint looked stricken. “Oh no! Why?”

“Because he’s made of flesh.”

“But so is everybody!” Paint exclaimed. “No one’s going to eat him!” She looked back into the bush. “Nobody wants to eat you. I promise.”

The guy seemed to be making a conscious effort to take deep breaths. “What about them?” he whispered, pointing a paw-hand toward the pair still working on the door. “I heard them talk about the breakfast they’re looking forward to. They mentioned creatures with fur and gnawing teeth.”

“That was—” Paint said. “They didn’t mean you! Mur was talking about an animal from his planet, a little one that’s not a person. They’re about this big, and they meet absolutely none of the criteria for sapient beings.” She held her hands a few inches apart. “He wants to get food from the stalls at the food court like everybody else.”

I nodded. “That’s what I’ve been saying.”

Paint nodded even more vigorously. “See? Robin knows. She's the animal expert, the person to ask about which type of creature would attack another.”

I opened my mouth to add something else, but Paint was still talking.

“And her species eats everything, so she knows about it from all sides!”

The guy made a little erk noise, and I sighed. “That’s less helpful,” I told Paint.

She seemed to be realizing that herself. “Sorry,” she said to me, then addressed the guy in the bush. “I thought you knew! But really, that just proves our point. You’ve been next to a flesh-eater all this time, and nobody’s tried to bite you.”

I agreed, “Just these berries.” I popped another one into my mouth, then regretted it. “Ugh, that one’s sour.”

Paint consulted the chart. “I think it’s called a sourbud.”

“That makes sense. Bluh. I got it mixed up with these other whatsits, the sunsweet ones. Similar color.”

“Very different smell, though,” Paint said with sniff like a wine connoisseur.

“Yes, we both know about your sense of smell.”

“Ooh, what are these? They smell amazing.”

The two of us talked for a bit about the various snack plants, deliberately ignoring the quiet rabbit guy, giving him time to process our very nonthreatening attitudes.

I was starting to suspect that he’d stay hidden in the bush until the maintenance crew came and went, but eventually there was a quiet rustle of leaves. With his eyes still wide and his motions timid, he took a seat on the far end of the bench.

Paint was still standing, and greeted him from a safe distance. “Good to see you! Would you like a berry? We can help you find the best ones.”

He was very brave and said yes. We consulted the chart and his preferences in flavor, and spent a few friendly minutes selecting berries. When it became clear that we weren’t going to make any surprise lunges at him, he gradually relaxed. His ears really did look like a rabbit’s when he let them stand up straight.

Mur yelled, “Aha!”

I looked up to see him with most of his tentacles braced against the wall, pulling hard on something that looked like a cable. I worried that he was about to either electrocute himself or destroy the mechanism completely, then I saw the small leaves.

It was a vine, and it had grown up inside the electronics panel. The various plants lined up along the wall looked carefully cultivated, but somebody had missed this one. If the leaves sprouting from the flowerpot closest to the door were as familiar as they looked, then that was probably the culprit. The visible plants were all wrapped around a decorative spiral frame. I had a sneaking suspicion that the drainage holes at the bottom of that pot were big enough for rebellious roots to sneak out, and take unauthorized journeys.

Mur called, “Anybody got a blade? This is a tough one.”

“I don’t. Paint?” I asked.

She shook her head. “I only brought the communicator. Too bad we don’t have Zhee or Trrili with us. They could probably make short work of it.”

While their praying mantis blade arms could have done it, I thought of a better idea. I said with a smile, “You know who else could? Our friend here with the gnawing teeth.”

He looked startled, but not afraid. “What, me?”

“Sure! Out of everyone here, you’re the only one whose teeth are built for slicing through tough plants with ease. Care to show us how it’s done and save the day?”

It took a little encouraging, but not as much as I’d expected. We checked the signage near the pot first, just to be sure I wasn’t urging him to chew on something toxic, and we confirmed that this was the same type of plant. Mur hauled as much of it into the open as he could, which wasn’t much. The Waterwill held various door bits in place. Then the rabbity guy stepped forward and was brave enough to put his head close to Mur’s tentacles.

He bit through the vine with a couple of swift chomps, separating the middle segment right where Mur had suggested.

“Nice work!” Mur said, moving the remainder of the vine. “Now we can tuck the rest of this nonsense to the side and reassemble the parts where they’re supposed to be.”

The Waterwill said, “Already on it,” reshaping one water tendril and maneuvering it around like a locksmith.

Paint looked up at the hero of the hour, who was still holding the segment of vine. “Hooray, you did it! Do you want more berries to celebrate?”

“Yes please,” he said, still breathing a little quickly. “That tasted terrible.”

We got him some of the berries that he liked best, then heard a promising klunk and more celebration. The door trundled open.

Mur made cheerful burbling noises. “Go team!”

“Quick, everybody out before it does something else bizarre!” said the Waterwill, immediately scooting out into the open.

Nobody was about to argue that point. We all hurried outside to where we wouldn’t be trapped again, then waved goodbye to the Waterwill. Paint called the officials back with an update on what kind of problem the mechanics would need to fix.

Mur said, “I’m off to the food court. It’ll definitely be open by now.”

“We’ll be right behind you,” I told him.

He spun off in a whirl of tentacles. I looked down at the rabbity fellow, who looked small now that I was standing up. But he stood taller than he had all morning.

I said, “Thanks again.”

He twitched his ears happily and said, “It was my pleasure!” He sounded a bit surprised by that.

“Off to get your own breakfast?”

He nodded decisively. “Yes. And no one’s going to bite me.”

“Right!” I agreed. “Even if they did, you could bite them right back!”

He smiled a fierce little rabbit smile, then scampered off into the spaceport.

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

#my writing #The Token Human #humans are weird #and so are the aliens #haso #hfy #eiad #humans are space orcs #science fiction

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 1 year ago

Text

FROM FAR DISTANT WATERS

PAIRING: Merman!John Price x F!Artist!Reader

SYNOPSIS: There’s something in the water - you're going to figure out what it is, and why it chose to save you.

WORDCOUNT: 16.8k

WARNINGS: Blood, murder, death/near death, assault, injury, gore, mystery, mentions of suicide, angst, protective!John, pining, sickness, etc.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

The little boat rocks as it slips through the expansive water, a thin hanging of mist in the air. The curtain-like film it leaves makes it nearly impossible to see the dark rocks of the shore a far distance away, and the dip and push of the oars through the chilled waves leaves splashing droplets connecting to your cheeks. You touch the flesh delicately, brushing away the spray as your eyes slide over dark, lapping water—deeper than anything.

In your lap, sitting below the high waist of your skirt, was your sketchbook; the tweed material was all the rage these days, though you never focused much on that. The thick item kept out the chill of the, very, early morning, and that was all you cared about, though, it seemed you lacked the foresight to pack a proper coat. A large woolen shawl sat over your shoulders, hiding the plain white blouse but not its cuffs; not the slight poof of the bottom part of the sleeves.

Your numb fingers fiddle with the pencil in your hands, your open sketchbook filled with page after page of images ranging from the common sea-bird to great ships and shorelines.

“I still have to ask why you feel the need to tag along,” is the voice that breaks the silence, and you blink away from the cloud of condensation from your exhalation. Your ear twitches, but only a small flick of a smile pulls your lips at the older man’s garbled words. “So cold my damn hands are going to fall off. Why am I always the one bloody working the oars?”

Otto Whitworth was a man far into his later years—one who entertained your fascination with the raging waters and the need to immortalize them on paper; that draw to the sights and sounds. Graying, covered now in a large coat and his boots, with the long fishing rod knocking around by your feet, he grumbles more than he speaks sentences, content with only the pipe in his breast pocket and the promise of fresh fish for breakfast.

“Oh, it’s not so bad,” you chuckle, glancing over at his wrinkled face—the glare of dark eyes set into a deep browline that’s more for show of annoyance than genuine emotion. “Gets the blood pumping harder, Mr. Whitworth.” Your vision slides to the shadows of the black rocks, and your pencil finds your palm before the sound of it meeting parchment echoes over the nothingness. “Isn’t it lovely? Listen to the Gannets.”

“Don’t need my blood pumpin’ harder,” the old man grinds out, scoffing. “Gonna make my fuckin’ heart stop, Girl…” Otto sighs, shaking his head as you chuckle. He growls under his breath. “And, no, I’m not listening to the birds—they’ll be trying to steal my fish soon enough. Greedy bastards.”

Your eyes roll in their sockets, pencil shading in the rough shapes of misty rocks, your face cold but still eager for something. There was a type of magic to this place—to Southern England and the small coast town you had settled in nearly a year ago: Redthorpe.

It seemed your talent for the arts was appreciated here, you had a shop to your name and friendly compliments from the locals every time the door was pulled open. People here liked the attention to detail in a place where they had most likely lived for a good ninety percent of their lives.

You tilt your head at the paper as Otto lets the oars drop back into the water, grasping for his fishing rod that you kindly move closer with your foot.

The man takes up the item and sets the line, whipping back the pole and snapping it forward with a wizz and a grunt—a cracking of old bones.

“Now hush,” Otto sighs, settling back.

You send a silent look upward, and at the same time as he does, you say out loud in a soft voice.

“You’ll scare away the fish with all that blabber.”

A heavy glare is leveled at you, but you raise a hand innocently and laugh under your breath.

“I’m as silent as the fish, Mr. Whitworth.”

“Cheeky Bird,” Otto sighs loudly, shifting in his seat until he faces the water, eyes glinting. “You’re too wild for this place, then, eh?”

“For most places,” you breathe, smiling as you study the rocks again before going back to your work. It’s only after there were the wiggling bodies of three fish set into a fisher’s basket that the oars are taken back up and the silent water is again forced back by ripples.

Pencil finding the middle of the spine, you close your sketchbook, the routine is as simple as it always is. Otto will complain about having you at his dock, he’ll begrudgingly invite you in and cook three fish: one for him, the second for his cat, Harriet—older than England itself and missing most teeth; as blind as a bat—and then, finally, you. After that you’re back in your shop finishing up your piece of the misty shoreline, working until the candle burns through both ends and the oil paints are swirling colors as your eyes bug. Bed, and finally, repeat.

A splash of water makes you blink quickly, your head jerking over at the slide of movement from the corner of your vision. Eyes wide, you swear a fin had cut the surface of the water like a knife through butter.

Your body moves closer to the side of the boat immediately, leaning over eagerly.

“Hey!” Otto barks, steadying himself as the vessel shakes back and forth. Your eyes shimmer, a smile overtaking your lips. “Watch yourself—you’ll send me overboard!”

“Did you see that?” Your eyes dart over the water. “I think I saw a fin.”

“You got excited over a fish?” The older man’s voice is unimpressed, hissing in the crackling of age. “Hell, I got three in the basket if you’re that bloody impressed.”

“Shh,” you wave one of your hands, unblinking. “It was bigger than a fish, Otto!”

Your ears twitch to his scoff, his hands grasping the oars harder before he shoves the boat forward. Body looming, the intense pull of adventure dims the longer nothing happens, and after a minute or two of dead mist and water, you hum under your breath like a fool and sit back.

“Lost it,” your numb lips murmur, breath puffing out softly. “Damn.” You shake your head as the wooden dock gets closer, more boats tied and shifting with the waves. “It was strange,” you admit. “Like a deep navy color—with specs of silver along the spine.”

Otto pauses, his hands tight over the oars. He blinks over at you, face for the first time showing an emotion other than annoyance. You barely notice before the sheen of crafted blankness is back.

You smile down the length of the boat, curiosity plain to see. “Do you know of any animal like that around here?”

“No,” Otto grunts out quickly, and your excitement dims sharply, blinking through shock.

Your brows furrow after the silence falls stiffly—the boat had never been uncomfortable to you, the atmosphere quiet, of course, but always easy to charter. Now the air was…muddy. Something had changed as fast as a fish being yanked out of water.

Fingers twitching, you sit back slowly onto the plank, pulling your sketchbook the tiniest bit closer to your abdomen. Face open, Otto continues to row and the entire ride is silent until the boat is docked and tied to the pole by calloused hands. Your digits grasp your shawl and wrap the fabric harder, shifting down to hide your chin into the wool as you shiver.

“...Need help?” You ask, eyes still shifting back to the water like always.

There’s something now that makes your attention drift like the waves themselves—and it wasn’t only the shadows of the rise and fall, it was Otto’s strange behavior. The man wasn’t one to just say one word and nothing more. He could bounce off you like it was a game; you often thought he enjoyed your company just so he could insult someone. Jokingly, of course. It was the companionship he craved, it was why he always let you on his boat in the mornings.

Otto lived alone. You never asked about it.

“Don’t need any help,” he grumbles out, tying off the last knot to the pole and stepping back with a smirk of satisfaction. “M’not in the grave yet, Girl. Been working the boats since I was out my mum’s womb.”

“Feel sorry for her.” Your mutter meets the air as light streaks through the mist. Breathing hot air into your free hand, you rub it over your arm repeatedly and sigh, fingers of the other limb tightening over your book. Absentmindedly, your head turns back to the open water one last time, for one last glimpse of anything you want to commit to memory while you paint—

The fin is back.

“Otto!” Feet swiftly dart to the end of the dock, you stop only an inch away as your skirt whips over. “It’s back! Look!”

A hand grasps your wrist and yanks you away.

Gasping sharply, you stumble until the harsh bark of, “Get back!” echoes across the dock just as it does through your ears.

“Whoa!” You’re quickly let go of, a shadow shielding you from the view of the water as you scramble to make sure your sketchbook won’t slip from your hold. Head jerking to stare in shock at the middle of Otto’s curved spine, your heart stutters in confusion and a bit of hesitation befitting one who was just manhandled. Standing up straight again, your tight face pulls in, the pound of your heart telling you something is wrong.

Glancing past a still frozen Otto, the water is utterly devoid of life again—only ripples to show there had ever really been something there at all.

“You go back to the ocean,” Otto yells, spittle flying from his mouth, fishing boots stomping against the wood as he moves forward a step, pointing. “Go back to the bloody hole you swam out of! There’s nothing for you here! Nothing!”

You watch, struck dumb.

“...Mr. Whitworth?” Your lips mutter out, eyebrows shifting from the waves to the man—utterly confused down to your chilled bones. Who was he talking to?

Perhaps time had caught up to him—was he mistakenly taking the rocks for people? The waves for whispers? All you had seen was a fish’s fin, nothing more, nothing less.

“Otto,” you call again, concerned. You should get the man inside; get him warm and let him cook his breakfast. “Let’s just go.” Your eyes blink lightly, fingers twitching over your book. “Alright…? My eyes must have been playing tricks on me, it’s nothing important.”

His form waddles past you, more in tune to his sea legs than the ones on land, and under his breath, you hear him snarl out a low, “You’ll not take her like you did Eleanor. Mark my words, I’ll be stringing you up by the tail first.”

Withered hand connecting with your shawl’s edge, you’re dragged back with more force than you’d anticipate Otto still having, but you go with him nonetheless.

Looking at the water, there’s nothing to see beyond the stretch of nothingness.

—

You dare to ask when you’re pushing the fish bones over to the side of your plate, slipping some mashed-up scraps to Harriet who lays in your lap purring. The rough scrape of a tongue licks your fingers, and deep gray fur caresses your palm.

“Who were you talking to back there?” Your voice carries over the small hut that Otto calls his own, the sounds of the water meeting the rocks plainly heard seeing as his property was as close to the cliffs as you could get without going over them. “I never took you for someone to believe in spirits.” The joke was a small jab, but even your own amusement was dim in the situation. Your hand puts down the fork and moves to rest along Harriet’s back, lightly petting the old cat as her half-missing tail flicks in satisfaction.

The man’s back over at the sink tightens.

“You watch yourself near the waters, Girl,” Otto grunts, dark eyes glancing over his shoulder. “By God, you watch yourself. There’s things out there—terrible things.”

“What kinds of ‘terrible things,’ Otto?” Your head tilts, sketchbook resting still on the table, your gaze flickering to it. Terrible had a nice ring to it. But something else was swirling in your gut now, a hesitation of a special sort that only comes out with the unknown paths of life.

What could make a man born and bred on the waters so reserved when speaking about them? Your interest had been piqued—your curiosity unsated until you were given a clear answer. You’d only been here a year, that wasn’t enough time to know the secrets of Redthorpe; to be let into those deeper circles.

Otto licks his cracked lips, the wrinkles of his face leaving behind something akin to a scrunched dog’s visage—worn by time and improper care from the damage of the sun. He’d been at work on his boat for decades, and while you took his advice with a grain of salt usually, this time he carried himself differently: you wanted to know why.

He glares with no venom, taking out the scrubbed pan from the soapy water and barking, “What’s it with the younger generation and their bloody pushing? Listen to what I’m telling you and take it as it is, Girl. You don’t go on the water,” he blinks, face grim, “unless I’m the one ferryin’ you through it, eh? That’s the end of it. I’ll say no more.”

Frowning heavily, you sigh under your breath and shake your head. Letting your eyes slip down to Harriet, you scratch under her chin and stare into her milky eyes as she lets out a little chirp.

“So much for answers,” your lips mutter.

But a fire had been lit in your breast now—a low simmering pull like a rope had been tied to your wrist, drawing you closer and closer to the rocky shore, to a boat tied on the dock which you knew was steadily rocking to the deep, dark waves of this isolated place.

To a navy-colored fin in the water, and a shape far larger than any you’d seen before.

Blinking to look out the window of Otto’s home, your eyes find the ocean, and the longing that you’d always had for it grows ten times larger as your sketchbook begs to be filled.

—

It was only fate, you guessed, that you had come to Redthorpe—a tiny, unimportant dot on the map—when the way of life you’d chosen had led you astray. This place was a way to start over. Fix yourself. You’d picked the least-known town in all of Europe, and that was exactly what you wanted.

One trait, though, that could never be squashed from your psyche was the lust for the unknown. It was an obsessive lover; a toxic hand on the back of your neck that dragged you back over and over, until there was only yourself to blame for the repetition of disappointment.

It was the reason you found yourself on the shore two days after you sighted the dark fin that cut the water.

Your lace-up boots were atop a large boulder, shifting as your body turned from left to right, eyes patiently dragging the expanse of nothing. Waves lap only inches below, spraying up to get absorbed into your skirt, shawl whipping with the wind. The breeze is stuck with the sounds of birds, the very beings darting above your head, playing their games with varying cries that sound like throaty groaning.

Bending, your arms wrap your waist, lips flickering. You were cold, limb-numbingly so, but even if you saw nothing today, or tomorrow, the push and pull of the ocean was enough—the call of the birds, the hypnotic sway of water. Calling to you, even if it had no lips to do so.

Taking down a lung-shaking inhale, you chuckle, sketchbook sitting in the small purse around your shoulder.

“What am I doing?” You ask yourself, shaking your head. “It was just a big fish—that old man was just being paranoid, anyways.” Eyes caressing the line where water meets the sky, your smile pulls your chilled cheeks. “There’s nothing out here worth my time. I need to finish my work.”

Leaning back, you rub your hands up and down your biceps, nonetheless enjoying your time despite the burning of something in the back of your head. A knowledge that the fin was nothing documented before? A hope of discovery? A need for adventure? Oh, who can really say—what can be known are only three things:

One, the weather was getting worse, two, the water was getting wilder, and, three, you had forgotten the way the rock you were standing on had shifted when you stepped up to it. Shuffling, your boots connect to the right corner, and your hands extend to keep your balance as you hiss a low breath, purse beginning to slip.

There’s a gruff call from the water.

“Careful, then.”

Your head snaps up to the sound of a man’s voice, and you startle sharply, gasping as your foot slips. A quick cry is all you get out before you’re suddenly plummeting downwards headfirst into the frigid water.

The feeling of liquid is all-consuming as it seeps into your nostrils and ears, all sound muffled entirely beyond the roar of it leaving you so stupendously—a flare, and then nothing. Eyes bugging, limbs slashing through the waves, the chill hits you in the chest with the force of a stone, smashing through your ribs to weigh you down with concrete stuck in your lungs. It was entirely a bodily reaction to gasp.

Through the blue and the bubbles, you start to drown.

Fingers twitching, you claw at nothing as the darkness settles its hands over your panicked eyes, not for a moment thinking about who had called to you in the first place—or who was poking a head out of the water before you’d gone over. Obviously, it was a trick of your senses; no one could survive being out in water like this.

You certainly weren’t going to.

Legs slashing, something is darting in the corner of your eye before your vision fails, but the rapid fear in your heart masks the hand gripping at your shirt’s collar. It hides even the feeling of strong arms until the point where you’re yanked upwards with little effort as one curls your waist. It doesn't hide, however, the way you vomit up water as you’re heaved to the rocky shore moments later.

Choking, you hack up salt that burns your esophagus until your lunch quickly follows—all spilled with little care for your hands caught in the crossfire. Spine arching as if a cat, air can’t come sweeter as it is drawn in rapidly; nearly hyperventilating on the ocean-smooth stones as your clothes are utterly ruined.

Panting, gasping, shivering violently, your head pulls itself weakly upward. It doesn’t take long for your mind to scream at you, and your head snaps behind you in a panic.

But there’s nothing but the raging water and the splash of a large navy-colored tail as big as your entire body disappearing back into the depths.

Your fear can only stay for so long before the threat of a frigid death becomes more and more probable. In your race back up the cliff face to your shop, your purse is completely forgotten, trapped on the top of that shaky rock where it had fallen from your shoulder before the great plunge.

Your shawl is seen floating out to the open water before it’s grasped from below and suddenly plucked—vanishing without a single trace.

—

The fire rages with the inferno of a million suns, and it’s not nearly hot enough. Wrapped in every blanket, sheet, and warm item available, you still can’t stop shivering hours later. A teacup was stuck in your hands, the liquid sloshing over the edges to slip over your quivering fingers and absorb into the cocoon of heat.

Breathing through your shaky lungs, you keep the rim of the cup to your lips, eyes wide and horrified. In the still moments after you’d stripped and tried to stop the onset of sickness that you could already feel coming, there was a flash of realization from your strange and fantastical ordeal.

There had been a man.

The sensation of hands around your waist—the gruff voice that had spooked you so violently. A man. In the water. Every time you blink, you see a shadowed image, a tiny glimpse as you’d turned to the sound of human speech above the shriek of birds.

Short brown hair and narrowed blue eyes set into sockets of pale skin. A bearded face, mustache…square jaw…

“What in God’s name?” You stutter in question over your tea, shaking your head. “That isn’t possible.”

Outside your shop, the wind screams, pushing against your exterior shutters as night sets in. A storm was coming; there’d be no other adventures for you. Sipping your drink, you shiver again, curling in tighter to yourself as wood crackles. The light dances over your easels and side tables, piled high with jars of brushes and pallets—bottles of linseed oil and liquin, labeled with little pieces of hanging paper at the necks.

There are paintings in the tens—in the twenties—hanging on the walls and set to the corners, all blue and gray; misty and clear. The water is a staple in all of them, and the cliffs as well. Perfect imitations of this place, as if you could reach a hand through the canvas and enter a mirrored world. Great ships are in some of them, or little fishing boats, with the birds overhead. Sometimes, it’s only the water itself, and to you, those were perhaps the best of your work.

There was a beauty in the nothingness. A mystery. Who knows what’s under that thin surface? Well…apparently, it wasn’t human.

You swallow down saliva and your lips thin.

The thing in the water wasn’t… unattractive, you had to admit. Beyond the waterlogged hair and dripping beard, a large nose sat—full cheeks with an odd mole over them. The more you thought about the brief flash of a visage, the more you grew to hang onto it, strangely. And that navy tail? It had been incredibly unique.

Spiney, nearly—four thin bones going down on both sides, branching out from the tail starting with the shortest that was perhaps only as long as your hand until the final was as lengthy as your entire arm. There was webbing between each spine to help the thing through the water quickly, it spread to the end of the barb until it sunk back in a ‘U’ movement, before once more arching out again to connect with the next spine. Small gasps in the caudal fin calling to either battles or a natural state of being—for show in it…his?...species.

Could you even assign it a human gender?

You close your eyes tightly in your shop, trying to will the image away from yourself. “What in the hell is going on?” Your voice is scratchy and low.

Yet, the undeniable truth was that the fish-man had saved you. It couldn’t be overlooked. Not by you, who now can sit in front of this very fire because of it. Like a moth to the flame, the surge of cautious confusion is burning your wings.

Deep blue eyes like the ocean. A navy tail. A gruff, hard voice.

You open your eyes and glare into the fireplace.

“What has this place been hiding in the water? And why did it bloody save my life right after it nearly ended it?”

More importantly…you had to think of a way to get your sketchbook back without getting on its bad side.

With a heavy chest, and more than a little fear in your heart, it was resolved to do something about all of this tomorrow. There was no use leaving the shop now. Glancing at the shaking window, you could hear the ocean rampaging over the cliffs; hear the slam of the rain hitting the roof like pounding feet.

But that voice played in your ears like a gramophone's bleated chorus.

You shiver again, not from the cold.

Careful, then.

—

There was no question if you’d gotten sick because of your impromptu bath in the ocean—the evidence was in your salt-covered shirt and the stockings that were still drying on the hearth.

Pressing a handkerchief to your mouth as you cough haggardly. You’re bundled in a nice fur dress coat, walking along the street with a skipping heart, a simple cloche hat over your head to protect you from the elements; dark blue in color.

The irony was not lost this morning when the hue had a striking familiarity to a fish-like tail, but it hadn’t stayed in your hand. A small drizzle slapped the fabric, and you were thankful you had brought the hat and coat along with you on the move from the big city.

You weakly smile and nod to the locals you consider friends—at the very least acquaintances. But before long, you’re at the place you feel you need to be to gain answers, too nervous to go back to the shore immediately.

The library.

Something Otto had said came back to you last night, in the throws of insomnia. The two sentences he’d called out on the docks that day—You’ll not take her like you did Eleanor. Mark my words, I’ll be stringing you up by the tail first.

Eleanor? Who was that and how did it correlate to the beast in the water that wears a man's face? Maybe, the local records would tell you the answer—there had to be something about this person, ‘Eleanor,’ in them, right?

If not, there was only one option left, and that was going down to the shore and getting the results first hand…you’d rather exhaust all of your resources on solid land first.

Slipping into the library with a deep breath and a cough in your throat, you sigh and nod slightly. Time to get to work.

“Oh,” the librarian looks up from her desk, standing as you shuffle over. “Hello, Dear,” she breathes through a chuckle, eyebrows pulling in softly. “My, you look a bit under the weather, don’t you? Would you like me to get some tea going…?”

“No, thank you,” you wave an easy hand. “I’m here on a bit of an errand, actually, and I was wondering if you could help me with something? I need to ask about your records.”

“Records?” The woman’s face shifts to confusion, her body slipping out to stand next to yours, you bring back up your handkerchief and sneeze into it, groaning. “What kind were you thinking, then?”

After you can push away the sheen of sickness to your eyes you take a breath and clear your throat of the stuffiness. “Births and work records? Addresses?” You make a small noise in the back of your mouth. “I guess I don’t know…anything that might help me?”

The librarian chuckles a bit, amused. “How about you tell me what it is you’re looking into, and I’ll try and grab any public knowledge that I can find. We’ll work together, then.”

Weight is loosened from your shoulders and you nod appreciatively. “Deal.”

“Go on then,” she walks over to a shelf on the far side of the room, standing as her fingers run the spines. “Occupation I can start with, Dear?”

“Well…” you pause, shuffling after as your head looks from one sizable book to another. “No, unfortunately. Only a first name.”

“You’re lucky Redthorpe is small,” the woman laughs. “Otherwise I would have told you you’re lacking your senses with only something like that to go off of.”

“Eleanor,” you comment, licking your lips and staring at a spine labeled ‘1890-1900 financial records - Redthorpe’. “E-L-E-A-N-O-R, or at least that’s the common spelling, I believe.”

The librarian’s body is stone-still. Comparable to the immovable rocks of the shore as the waves bash against them; the raging of the wind. When you glance over, confused at the silence that infects the building, you’re reduced to a meek hesitation at the blank eyes that dig into your face.

“...Or…maybe it’s N-O-R-E?”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t help you,” is the hurried answer, and then the woman moves past with fast feet, heels clicking over the hardwood rapidly. “There hasn’t been an Eleanor in Redthrope. You’re mistaken.”

“Wait,” you follow, stuttering. “I don’t understand, there has to have been—Otto was talking about her not days ago!”

“You’re mistaken,” is the repeated, firm answer, the librarian’s body swirling to face you again, pointing a finger at you. “Go back to your shop. Mr. Whitworth is old, he sees things that aren’t there. Don’t take what he says to heart—”

“I saw it!” You bark, fed up. Your mind was sick of these games being played, left out of the loop like you hadn’t formed a relationship with the people of this town.

The woman’s mouth locked shut with a clack of teeth, something darting over her expression…fear?

She backs up slowly. “I…I don’t know what you’re talking about, Dear.”

Your lips twist, a threatening sneeze in the back of your nose. “I’m done with the word games! It dragged me out of the water like a sack of flour and tossed me to shore! It saved me!” Her hands are held in front of her as you stalk closer, trying to brush what you’re telling her aside as she struggles to string words.

“It…it wouldn’t do that—that’s not how it acts. You’re just imagining things; you’re under the weather!”

“Who’s Eleanor?” You huff, stubborn as you cross your arms in front of you. “And what in the hell is a man with the tail of a fish doing living just below these cliffs?”

Wide eyes meet glaring ones, and the librarian’s lips move up and down in a panic.

“I…” she begins, feet tapping the floor nervously as the rafters creak above the both of you. “I can’t talk about it. It’s not something to be said out loud—especially so close to the water.”

You bark incredulously, “There’s a bloody monster that lives down in—!”

A hand is snapped over your mouth and you startle, blinking through the twitch of your body.

“Shh!” The librarian panics, shaking her head, with flaring eyes. “Stop it or you’ll end up being dragged down to the ocean floor like Eleanor was!” You tense behind the hold, shoulders pulled in. It’s a quick spit of whispered words like a fast breeze. “Do you want your body showing up on the rocks?! Stay away from it!”

Your heart pounds in your chest, vision darting back and forth before she finally lets you go in a quick jerk of her body. The woman backs up, quivering as her eyes go to the window, nearly panting from fear.

She looks back at you, blinks, and mutters out a quiet, “If you’ve already seen it, it wants you. Don’t go back to the water,” before she rushes into the back room and slams the door shut with the slipping of the lock.

Left standing in the open library, the shelves sit stationary as if sentinels to your raw distress—this had only left you with more questions and a handful of jumbled answers.

“Careful, then.”

You shake your head harshly and pivot to leave the library in a stupor, shoving your chin back down into your coat’s collar as the wind slaps your face once more. The call of the ocean is like a knife to the back of your neck.

—

Call you whatever name in the book, but you wanted your sketchbook back.

No one in town was giving you anything that was of use, and Otto was tighter-lipped than a lockbox. There was only so much you could do—could speculate—before the need for your belongings was too strong to ignore. It took two more days of pacing your shop before it was decided.

Taking up the heavy cast-iron pan above your fireplace, you slip the thing into your coat, shove on your hat with a defiant grunt, and force the front door open. It’s a ten-minute walk to the shore, and all the way there, dread fills you up like soup until you’re bloated with it by the time your boots hit black rocks. Yet, there’s a point where a woman’s courage outweighs the sense of caution, and today was currently that day.

Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you grab your skirt and hike it up, placing your boot carefully on the first of the larger stones leading out to where you’d been previously.

“Don’t look at the water,” you mutter quietly as you move, not shuffling forward until you know the rock isn’t going to topple this way or that. “Don’t even think about it.”

But that tail…that face…

With a growl under your breath, you grind your teeth and continue on.

The weather today was much more agreeable, but cold. It was always chilled in Redthorpe—dreary as if the clouds never left far above. You didn’t mind, and in your coat pocket, the reassuring weight of your pan left you much warmer than you’d like to admit.

The heat of protection, so to speak.

“Even a fish-man can die, I’d wager,” you utter, grunting as you ascend a larger rock, palm slapping the wet stone before you heavy upwards, slamming your boot to the top much like a schoolboy as your skirt bunches. “If I hit him hard enough in the skull. I wonder though,” you sneeze, shuddering, “if he even bleeds? If I crack his head open…will blood seep out, or salt water?”

You shiver, and it’s not from the cold. “Fucking hell, you do like making it harder on yourself, don’t you.”

Lightly panting, you brush down your coat on the top of the rock and turn to look at the boulder where you’d fallen previously, blinking. Pausing, your eyes find not only your sketchbook sitting there…but also your shawl.

Struggling for a moment to try and justify your actions, you swiftly look over the surface of the water, seeing the gentle push and pull of waves. No fin. No tail.

You aren’t sure if the feeling in your chest is joy or disappointment.

Licking your lips, you take a large breath before your face turns grim.

“Grab it and run,” your voice echoes in your own head, heart pounding with adrenaline the more steps you take to the boulder, water sloshing at the sides. You had thought perhaps that the rain—the storm—would render all of your lost belongings null, but as you bent and snatched your items to you, shawl hanging from your arm, you were pleasantly surprised. It was all dry; impossibly so.

Amid your shock, your slack jaw, and the weight of your pan in your coat, your shaky fingers open your book with bated breath.

Everything was in pristine condition, if not only slightly curled at the corners due to…your eyebrows pull in, expression struggling to take on the emotion of anything other than pure awe.

“Fingerprints?”

Eyes slipping from one page to the next, flipping them only to see the press and pull of a long gone thumb, shiting the paper to gaze at the back, where a forefinger would have been. A hand laced in water had been turning the pages, just as you do now—and, yet, there wasn’t an inch that was damaged; nothing smeared.

Shoulders loosening from their tensed position, your wide stare is utterly transfixed as your digits rub the material softly, feet shifting.

Lowering your sketchbook, your small huff of amazed laughter, mind running.

He’d been going through your drawings—he’d somehow protected these items from the rain and salt. How? Why? But another question wrapped its hands in your skull.

Did he like them?

Shuffling the book into the crook of your arm, you carefully wrap your shawl over the material to further keep it safe, not able to find your purse, though the only thing it ever held was your sketchbook in the first place; it wasn’t too important.

Rising your head again, you gaze openly outward, lips opening and closing in a small stutter. Was he out there, this strange creature with a strong face and those deep eyes? That navy tail, looking like a beautiful imitation of kelp…was it just under where you now study the waves?

So many questions, so few answers.

You clear your throat, holding your items tighter. There’s magnetism in your blood, and it sits on your tongue like salt.

“Thank you!” Your voice calls high, joining the chorus of birds far above on the cliffs. Eyes skating the rocks, the shore, the ocean, everything. Call you prideful, but perhaps the best way to gain your favor is to know that someone, whatever bit strange and fantastical, had enjoyed your work to the smallest degree.

The way your eyes spark is still embarrassing, though, but it comes naturally after the heat that simmers over your face.

“Truly,” you shout to the wind. “You have no idea how much this means! If you’re listening, I’d like to extend my gratitude…” Your face is beaming, and you can convince yourself that all of your fear over this is gone, even if that would just plainly be untrue. “My artwork is everything to me, I do hope you enjoyed it!”

A creature so easily curious about your skills wouldn’t drag you to the bottom of the ocean…right?

Hell, he’d already had a chance to do that—a perfect one—and yet, here you are. What the Librarian had said had to be false, it made no sense otherwise.

Seeing nothing, and knowing that you were needed back at your shop, you chuckle under your breath and back up swiftly, walking the distance back to the surrounding rocks and slipping off softly. Grunting under your breath, your boots hit the stone, and you carefully begin back-tracking.

“You’re good at it,” you halt in a fraction of a second. “The images. Where’d you learn to do that?”

It’s a long moment before you turn with a cautious tilt to your head, and find the very same visage as you had a glimpse of days ago. You fight a fast inhale, but your straightening spine tells all the story it needs to. Like a fool, you lose the words in your mouth, as if trying to catch a bird of prey with a butterfly net.

A strong face is poking out of the water only a mere five feet away.

Your eyes slip to the soaked beard, the peak of bare shoulders—broad, of course—and the prying orbs that you feel will never leave; he wades there, arms under the dark water only a flash of pale skin before they’re gone again.

“I…” you lick your lips, blinking through the moment of animalistic panic. You were on land, there was nothing to fear. The sight was still something to be remembered, though. “I was self-taught, Sir.”

Blue eyes blink, serious face only made more so by the twitching of his large nose, which water drips from periodically. Droplets stay stuck to his dark lashes, and you’re near bursting with questions.

But silence persists long after your sentence filters out to nothing.

“You pulled me from the water,” you state slowly. “And I don’t even know your name.”

The man looks you up and down, not arrogant, no, but in a way that is comparable to how you did the same to him. Studying you as if your body was strange to him. The realization almost made you laugh—perhaps it was strange to him.

You want to see that tail of his again. Your fingers itch to sketch its likeness and commit it to muscle memory.

“I scared you,” he grumbles, sighing. “It wasn’t my intention to send you over.” Eyes still stay stuck. “My own fault.”

“I won’t deny you there,” you huff, gaze shifting away for a moment before filtering back. A slash of amusement curls in the thing’s eyes, and he hums. “Forgive me,” your breath wafts out over the air, face going what you can assume to be sheepish. It astounds you, though, that the conversation comes easily. “But I haven’t the faintest bloody clue as to what to call you.”

“John,” is the reply. Accent like gravel. He doesn’t waste his breath, seems.

“John?” You lick your lips, legs shuffling over the stone. The name leaves you holding back a loud laugh. “Well, I suppose I could have guessed that, then. I’ve met more than enough ‘Johns’ so far.”

“Funny, are you?” The response, however dry, is tinged with something you can’t name.

“I try,” you nod jokingly, motioning with a hand. “Just didn’t expect a man with a fishtail to act so….human. Certainly not be named like one, either.”

“Hm,” John grunts, blinking slowly. A hand slips above the water, and you watch it flex and drag to itch at the back of his neck, hair over the arm slick to the flesh. Your face heats, and your eyes dip to see the small shadow under the water almost graze the surface, rippling the waves intimately, as if tail and liquid were of the same sound mind.

It wasn’t out of the question to say you longed for a glimpse.

What would it feel like to touch it?

“You live here?” Your voice is hoarse before you clear it quickly. “Right below the cliffs?”

“You’re the woman that goes out in the boat,” John firmly interjects, and you blink, taken aback.

“Yes, that’s me.” You explain, pulling at the lip of your hat to force it down further over your head. “Otto goes fishing in the mornings—I like to sketch the shore. He isn’t the worst company, of course. He’s kind enough to let me along with him.”

But you won’t be kept down. There’s magical curiosity in your chest now.

“Your tail,” you take a step forward, boots being licked by icy water. John’s eyes widen a smidge, not expecting you to actively move closer. His head tilts as if a bird, confusion brimming though he hides it expertly. You imagined he considered you a bit mad. “Forgive me, Sir, but I must know,” your uttered rambles make his hidden lip twitch, a little twist to your expression that shows wonder. “Is it attached to you, or do you slip out of it like a pair of pants? O-or even like wearing a stage costume? Oh, it’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before.”

John can’t find the words for a moment, only able to watch and assess as he always did in times like these. You were…different, he supposed. But he knew that the moment you had shifted your body over the side of that old man’s boat—looking for a glimpse of something unknown. He could see it in your eyes.

The water calls to you. It lives in your veins already, waiting. More salt and seaweed than earth and grass. Sand, rock, gulls, they all cry in the back of your mind, and your fingers itch to catalog them into immortality in a way that John was fascinated over—the skill of parchment and memorization. Mastery over detail.

He doesn't know why he’s speaking to you, truly. He’d done his penance; saved your life. But he knows he doesn’t dislike it, and that in and of itself needed to be understood. John couldn’t leave his analytical brain lacking an answer to a question as big as that—a woman of all things? A human one?

Blue eyes can’t seem to slip from yours, as you await a gruff reply.

“No.” You blink, pulling back a smidge when John’s voice is low and graited. “Go back to your home. It’s late.”

“Hey, wait—!”

But he’s already gone under the waves, and you’re left with a waterlogged boot, a cast iron pan, and the two items that had survived because of a grizzly creature's compassion. Your lungs heave, and the cloud of condensation rises into a gray sky.

You stay there far longer than you’d like to admit.

—

You struggled, slipped, and climbed your way back to that point on the rocks every other day, and yet, there was nothing more to be seen of the man with the tail. You knew he was out there, felt it in your bones, and still…you were left here staring out at far-off boats and half-hopes. Wondering. Waiting.

In the days that passed, you would explore the shore further, going in nooks and deep bends that extended into the cliffs during low tide, cringing away from the slippery fingers of kelp stuck to the walls. Dead fish, mucus-lined snails—you had made the important decision of leaving your sketchbook at home, the pages already filled with the perfect reflection of a man’s face peeking above the water.

Taking off your hat, you huff on a similar day to those others, this time slipping inside a cave with a direct connection to the ocean. There wasn’t any wind in here—and you sigh in relief as your breeze-bitten cheeks can finally get a rest. You didn’t know what you expected to find doing all this fruitless searching, but it didn’t erase the fact that you enjoyed it; looking for a glimpse of something out of the ordinary.

Brushing your hat of sand and other such items, your head swivels softly, a delicate smile on your face as water drips from the rock ceiling, stalactites like broken fingers reaching for the ground. A pool of sorts takes up most of this place, the thing extending to the ocean through a medium-sized opening in the stone.

You turn in a half-circle.

“Beautiful,” your lips murmur, voice echoing.

Walking forward, every so often your body stoops to carefully grasp shells and smoothed shards of colored glass, beaten down by waves and reduced to harmless trinkets. Continuing, you care little about your boots or your coat, only for the pull in your chest that tells you to keep going until your legs are weak and weary—shaking from a day long spent in selfish adventure.

When you find the pile of rings, sitting in soft kelp, you nearly walk right past them until the glint of metal takes you by surprise. Pausing, your pulse warms as your eyes slash to the side, getting sucked in as easily as cookies to a child.

Only hesitating a second, you slowly walk until you’re inches away, seeing different styles and gems like starlight sitting as if unaware of their raw beauty.

“What are you doing in here…?” You ask yourself, your own voice responding from the walls as it bounces.

Picking up one of pure gold, you shift the band to stare openly at an emerald nearly the size of your knuckle set into it. Lips parting, it’s as if your breath is stolen by a quiet thief. But the sudden arrival of splashing snaps you out of your stupor quite quickly.

Dropping the ring immediately back into the pile, your hand jerks to your chest as an increasingly common face shows itself once more from the water.

You clear your throat, face burning as John raises a slow brow, glancing at the stash of rings silently.

“One day you’re going to make me keel over,” your voice berates, pointedly avoiding his blues. So the items were his.

“A thief as well as an artist?” John asks after a moment, tilting his skull as his body drifts closer to the rocky side of the pool. The next sentence is no question, only a statement. “You’ve been looking for me.”

You take a long breath, sighing, before you shove your hat into your coat’s pocket, glaring lightly. “You left so abruptly, I never got to ask my questions. Quite rude of you to keep a lady waiting, John.”

As you say his name, he glances over, but not before his sizable hands slap to the side of the rock and he hoists himself up with a single push of his forearms. The man grunts, lips pulling, before you’re left breathless.

Eyes stuck on the upper half of his body, the water dripping down the hair-layered bulge of visible muscle, your wide vision skates from one point to another, flesh on fire the more you stay mute. But the tail—that was something you could never describe.

The beginning was all you could see; scales of dark navy and a spread of muddled silver-like dots, nearly impossible to make out except at this distance. They began at the top of where hips should be, the scales, smaller and blending into the skin easily, only becoming larger the more the tail extended down; the appendage was far larger than legs would be, that you can tell easily. You can’t see all of it, as perhaps a little less than half still sits swaying in the water…but even this was enough for now.

This moment would be stuck in your sketchbook for all of eternity.

It’s only after your jaw is slackened that you realize John has been watching you the entire time.

Forcing it shut with a tiny clack of teeth, you try to regain any composure you can. The being’s beard curls in a smirk, cheek pushing to show the lines near his eyes.

“If someone’s avoiding you, Sunshine,” he grunts out, voice low. From the corner of his eye, he watches as his hand rises to itch at his beard. “They usually don’t want to have a conversation.”

“I think it’s fair,” you huff. “You can’t just disappear when I have so many unanswered questions.”

John blinks, attention not moving for even a second. Your own is less than firm, fighting to not dart down to openly study every dip and bend of his bones. He was so…stoic. Gruff. But there were moments of amusement—even annoyed interest.

“I don’t have time to fuckin’ entertain others,” he thins his lips.

Your arms crossed, face dripping into seriousness. “And what else is so much more important, then?” You raise a brow. “Scaring other women into the water?”

He huffs under his breath. “It was an accident—wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t so jumpy, eh?”

“It’s not like I expect to see fishmen pop out of the water,” you defend.

“Mer-man, Love,” he licks his lips, sighing, as his eyes shift to glance at the opening of the cave. Your face bleeds into a slight expression of satisfaction, arms over your chest tightening as your feet rock back on their heels.

“Well,” you chuckle. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

An emotionless glare is all you receive.

It was no surprise that you ended up blurting out inquiry after inquiry—what does having a tail feel like? How do you breathe underwater, or do you only hold your breath like a human? Do you have gills somewhere, or lungs? What other creatures are out there like you?

You have no idea what time it ends up being, and you have no intention of stopping soon. It’s a pleasant surprise, then, that John answers all of your quick words with full answers; giving slow, but not condescending explanations.

A few times there had been tiny chuckles, and the little conversations amounted to you sitting on a rock right near the water, only feet away from where the tail drifts in the waves; John’s hands keeping his upper half straight as his palms meet slippery stone.

“And the rings?” You breathlessly wonder, attention darting to the pile. “Do you find them out there? Keep them?”

John tilts his head in an affirmation. “Shipwrecks. There’ll be hundreds of them—I’m not one to keep many belongings, but the bloody things were nicely made.” He sighs. “Seemed a waste to leave them down there.”

You huff a sound of amusement. “I see. Fascinating.”

In the small pause, your eyes once more study the cave, seeing little breaks in the walls where cubby-like indents are. In them, your focus drifts from one glimmering object to another, all previously missed by you when you’d first entered.

You blink. “You live here?”

“Affirmative,” John stares. His body shifts, tail flickering as your focus snaps back to it, almost lost in the way the ends so nimbly slice the water. Like wispy fabric. Your eyes soften like molten metal. You look back at him and find his eyes already locked to yours.

Breath caught in your throat, you chuckle meekly to dispel your embarrassment. John’s face minutely relaxes, stern brow loosening.

“And…” you lick your lips, knowing it was time to leave. The sun no longer shines through the crack in the rock. “If I were to come back, would I be able to find you here?”

There’s a flash of that same indecipherable emotion as before over his bushy face.

The man was anything but small—everything to the swell of his tail; body hair for, what you assume, is to keep out the constant chill of the water. You’d never imagined that you’d find it all so attractive down to the navy scales that shimmered above the push of his side. That healthy layer of meat was eliciting far more of a physical reaction than you’d care to admit to anyone, let alone a priest of any religion during a confession.

Perhaps that fall into the water really had killed you.

“I’ll be here,” John responds lowly, gravel in his throat.

Swallowing down saliva, you push back the ravenous smile that threatens you.

“...Okay.”

—

And this affair became such a constant, that most of the people in town had begun asking about you as you snuck to the waters. Otto was largely concerned, but would not say anything more for some unseen fear—nor the Librarian, who avoided your eyes any chance she got.

Dragged to the ocean floor. Body on the rocks.

The sheen of discovery could be a powerful vice, and for those first two months, you never asked John about the woman named Eleanor or who she might be—what correlation she had to beasts of the water. Then again, you didn’t have to ask. He managed to get around to it himself.

Your eyes blankly stare at the page of your sketchbook, the merman’s rough shape chicken-scratched with small lines into the parchment, and your pencil stays still to it, immobile. From across the cave, John’s face tightens as his eyelids narrow. You’d been quiet today, he had noticed. Usually so bright with your words, the walls had barely echoed with the symphony of your speech, and, more importantly, John’s ears hadn’t twitched to it.

He had become fond of your company, he admitted to himself. A strange human woman with her fur coat and hat, the little sketchbook that held such wonderful imitations of life. John was anything but dull—he knew you drew him, and he entertained the activity. In fact, the thought at one point or another may have made the brute of a man blush a bit. So, when you were as still as the stone you sat on, he had concerns.

He liked it when you spoke, even if it was only a tease. And the tightness of his chest when you don’t look his way is enough to leave his tail twitching in confusion as it sits in the water.

“You’re quiet today,” he starts, frowning.

Your fingers jerk, sending a line over your paper as you blink, looking up as your heart skips a beat. Glancing at John’s face, the thoughts inside of your head slip until you can understand what he said.

“I’m sorry,” you sigh, and the man’s face pulls. “You can speak if you want. I'm just a little distracted.”

“I didn’t mean it like that, Love, yeah?” John grunts, hands shifting over the stone. He looks you up and down, tail sitting still below him. “What happened?”

“Nothing happened,” your lips mumble, and you shake your head. “It’s one of my questions again.” You pause, closing your book. “A difficult one.”

John’s lips flicker. “Well, we’ve been at this for ages. Can’t see how this one is more difficult than the others.” He nods softly, voice a low and somewhat smooth mutter. “Go on.”

“I don’t know if I can,” you huff, standing and placing your sketchbook in the driest part of the cave before walking closer. Bending right in front of John, your face is tight. The man likes it like this—having you closer. He can feel the heat roll off you, and his eyes flutter even when nothing on his face gives away the pull he senses in his chest.

John hums and swallows stiffly.

“Why not?” His head tilts, and he clears his throat to get rid of the raspy scrape of his vocals. “Something going on up there?”

Up there.

The Merman had asked about Redthorpe, as well as the rest of the people who lived there. The atmosphere, the way of life. Your meetings were more of an exchange of information and stolen glances than anything else, the other none the wiser to this magnetic attraction. It was a delicate thing, knowing that there was something more and yet unable to fully express the way it makes you feel. Neither of you knows what to call it.

“More so in here,” you smile tinily, pointing at your head as your cheeks grow hot.

“Then speak to me,” John frowns, trying a low smirk. “Think we both know I’m a good listener then, Love. There’s time,” he glances at the entrance. “Won’t be near dark for a few more hours—don’t want you climbing at night.”

“Awe,” you breathe, beaming suddenly with that glint back in your eyes. John hides the sagging of his shoulders, only offering a hum under his breath as he looks over at you. His kelp-like fins twitch, and he wonders what it would feel like to have you touch them. It was obvious you wanted to.

Not yet.

“Hurry up, Sunshine,” John grinds out, that accent all the more sandy.

There’s a small grunt and a shuffle, and, soon, a warm body is plotting itself next to his own, arm touching his, and a pair of bare feet slipping into the pool. Blue eyes widen in surprise, head darting to where your form rests so simply—so near the crook of his shoulder that he could reach over and draw you to him if he so wanted.

Your feet shift as the hem of your skirt gets soggy with water, and John barks out a firm, “You’re going to get cold.”

“It’s not as cold here as it is out there,” you shrug to him, smiling with a side-eye. “Besides, I’m right next to you—you’ll keep me warm, won’t you, John?”

“Fucking hell,” he puffs out, shaking his head as he rips it forward once more, clenching his jaw. Your scent seeps into his nose, and when your leg slips along the side of his scales under the water, he all but goes a blank-faced scarlet.

You hide a chuckle, shivering at the chill but more so at the unimaginably smooth sensation of John’s tail over your flesh. Your legs move through the water to cross at the ankles, your right hand resting to directly touch John’s left. With every pump of your blood, his own mirrors.

Yet, your mood sobers, and the joy leaks.

“There’s a woman that no one speaks about in Redthrope,” you begin, and John settles to listen, brows furrowing in concentration as your skin sits so well next to his own. “Eleanor.”

The man pauses abruptly, and you keep talking.

“And for some reason,” you sigh out a low breath, turning to look at John and his still face; emotionless. “Everyone seems to blame you for whatever happened to her. I don’t know if she’s missing, or…”

Your words trail off, insinuation clear.

Not noticing any chance on John’s face, you lightly bump him with your elbow, expression going concerned. “Hey, are you alright?” Your opposite hand raises, moving out between the two of you. “I didn’t mean to insinuate anything, I would just really appreciate anything you might know about it.” Eyes imploring, your heart pours itself. “I don’t think you’d do something like that.”

John blinks slowly, finally opening his mouth. “What makes you say that?”

“If you were some murderous creature,” you shrug, “I don’t think you would have tried to pull me out of the ocean in the first place.” Lashes caressing your cheeks, you smile. “Am I wrong?”

“No,” the man huffs, quirking a brow. “No, you’re not wrong.”

“Knew it,” you whisper, eyes crinkling as you side-eye him.

John chuckles, half rolling his eyes as he leans to your ear as he grumbles. “Gettin’ cheeky, are you?”

If you were a bird, you’d be preening your feathers, eyelids narrowed. “Perhaps, John.”

It is a wonder, then, that the two of you don’t lock lips that very instant—long fins curling around legs and shoulders stuck together, pinkies unconsciously sitting atop the others as if pieces of parchment. Blue eyes shift smoothly to your lips, but before you can register that they have, John’s head is already moving back and his spine is straight.

The man flattens his lips, tilting his skull.

“I knew of a woman named Eleanor—she would come down with her husband, Noah, and they would walk along the shore. Got close to this place a few times.” Dark brows tighten. “Found her body in the water after a storm about two years ago; brought it back to the rocks so someone could retrieve it.” Your face loosens as the information settles in. John makes a noise in his chest. “Interesting that I’d be roped into it, but it’s understandable. Always someone to blame, eh?”

“I don’t blame you,” you whisper. “That must have been horrible.”

Blue slips over to you silently, and it’s a long moment before John only hums under his breath, blinking away softly.

“Scared me when you fell in.” Listening, your heart clenches in your ribs. To think about what must have been going through his head at that instant was sad to you, and even worse so when you know he would have blamed himself if you might have ended up seriously hurt.

“Well,” you lean into him, face on fire, “it was a good thing you were there to drag me out, then. A little water never hurt anyone, so long as a handsome merman is there to take them back to shore.”

John huffs out a laugh. “Handsome?”

“Oh, very,” you joke. “The tail is a bonus.” Your expression lightens, eyes glinting. “Since when did you know that navy is my favorite color?”

The feeling of the cold water is only a back-drop to the way John’s fins twitch against your bare legs intimately, and you chuckle as the beard can only hide so much red skin.

“Bugger off,” he grunts.

You’ve never heard a smile so clearly before in your life.

—

Your paintings were selling far better than they ever had, and you had to thank the new muse of them for that fact.

John’s appearance in your work had started small—a glimpse of a fin, the presence of a shadow in the water—and had steadily grown. Now, hidden like a present, there was the image of some fishtailed man somewhere in all of them, a steady injection of magic into the veins of cerulean blue and ivory black. It showed you that fewer people knew about John than you had previously thought.

Initially, you had imagined that everyone knew and the reason you didn’t was because you were relatively new here, but no. Most had been enamored by your work when they found the ‘strange fish-man’ in one, pointing and chucking to themselves, talking about how adorable it was. No one was shocked, no one sent looks.

By the end of the week, you had been convinced that it had been narrowed down to Otto and the Librarian—

The bell of your shop dings.

Looking up from your easel, you smile and stand automatically, thinking about closing soon so you can go and see John. Nowadays, even the thought of him makes your blood pump heavy.

“How can I help you today, Sir?” Your brushes find the side table you had set up, locking eyes with a tall, thin man in his late thirties. He wears a suit, and in his breast pocket, there’s the gleam of a gold chain attached to a pocket watch.

“I’m here to ask about a detail in your paintings, Miss.” He’s well-spoken as well, and you’re shocked to know you haven't met him yet if he lived in Redthorpe—he doesn’t seem familiar at all.

“Of course,” you nod, perplexed. “I’m sorry, I think I missed your name.”

“Noah Moore,” is the even response. Noah is already walking around, bending to look into some of your work which hangs on the wall. “My neighbor brought home one of your pieces; I found I liked it very much. Had even considered commissioning.”

Noah? You blink slowly, watching. Wasn’t that Eleanor’s husband?

“Thank you,” your lips move, thinning. “That’s very high praise, Mr. Moore.”

“This creature,” Noah stands, and dark eyes set on you. For some reason, the hair along your arms stands on end. “The man with a fish tail. Have you seen him?”

Your instant reaction is to lie, and that in and of itself is a telltale sign that something is wrong. Noah makes the alarm in the back of your head go off for no reason other than the way he’s trying to pry with that unblinking gaze of his. The rich apparel; the attitude. He isn’t right.

“Seen him?” Chuckles echo off the walls. “Who? The beast? No, Sir, that…thing…is just something I made up.” You wave a hand, but back up a step, trying to create distance. Your hip lightly bumps the side table, and your materials jerk. Gasping under your breath, your head snaps down, catching your brush before it can fall. “Oh my, clumsy me.” you laugh stiffly. “Apologies, Sir, but that’s the truth. I wanted to create something that all of Redthrope might enjoy; a local legend of sorts, see.”

Your eyes had siphoned back with a dread in your heart. The man mutely stares, a deep frown pulling his lips. As if the conversation had never happened, after a long stretch of tension, Noah smiles widely.

“Ah,” he huffs, “of course. It was silly of me to ask.” Dark eyes are emotionless, and the pull of his eyelids is not there. Spine so tight it could snap in half, and your fingers curl around the brush before you place it down stiffly. “Though,” Mr. Moore clicks his tongue, taking one step closer.

Your eyes widen, but you say nothing. Your mind flashes to John, and there’s a longing for the ocean so strong, it seems a good idea to you, to rush out the door right now and sprint for it; hurl yourself to the waves, if need be. He’d find you—you know he would.

“Though,” Noah continues, tilting his head. “There is a striking resemblance to a creature I recall seeing from the cliffs, the day my wife’s body was found at the rocks.”

Backing up another step, your muscles ache with how you hold them like a shield to your organs.

“As far as I know, only two others were searching at my side that day. And in it I am certain,” he hums, “you weren’t even here.”

Otto and the librarian, you think quickly, mind a mess of information and fear. It’s why they’re so spooked. They think John actually killed Eleanor and left her—they saw him bring her body to shore.

It’s a lack of foresight on your part, that the next bark is more of a reaction to the panic than proper knowledge, cracking under pressure.

“John would never kill an innocent woman!”

It’s as if a switch goes off, and, suddenly, there’s a ruthless hand grabbing at your throat. Yelping, you stagger back and snap your fingers to Noah’s wrist, clawing until there’s blood under your nails; air is sucked in with a wheeze. In the back of your head, there’s wild screaming, and you can’t tell if it’s the pounding of your blood or the internal sensation of primal fear.

Raging eyes shove themselves right in front of yours, faces so close you can feel Noah’s hot breath moving over your burning face. You try to cough but find you can’t as one of your hands struggles to slap to the side table—searching fruitlessly.

“John?” Noah sneers, holding tighter. “The thing has a name?”

Your easel clatters to the ground, back being shoved right into it. Mouth opening and closing, the cut of oxygen reduces your mind to acting purely off instinct—breaking down like glass to fracture to only one thing: survival.

“It was perfect,” Mr. Moore growls, eyes ablaze. “I had it all planned out, only to be ruined by a freak of nature at the last moment!”

Your nails gouge the wood, dragging, searching, slapping. Anything—anything at all to help as your boots scrape from under you. You can’t even comprehend the words being said; all of it is a blur as blackness peels the side of your vision.

Tears splatter down your cheeks.

“Two years, and then you had to come along and fucking speak to it! What did it tell you? Eh? What did it see that night?”

Your hand curls the glass bottle where you store your brushes and without another thought, you slam the side of it to Noah’s head.

Shouting, the man releases you in an instant, glass leaving long lines of blood splattering out to sprinkle your face as it shatters, collapsing into itself. Connecting to the ground, your hacking can only take place for under two seconds before your boots scramble for purchase, stumbling and flailing at least once; lungs gasping.

Shoulder connecting with the side of the door frame as you bang it open, an enraged scream follows you into the rainy afternoon, the rumble of deadly thunder far overhead.

Running, you don’t know how to stop, and it’s even harder to catch your breath by the time you’re down to the rocks, looking over your shoulder as if Noah would be right behind you. He wasn’t—but the fear was enough to keep you going until you were bathed in sweat and barely strong enough to fall into the entrance of John’s cave, fingers cut up and raw from grappling over stone.

There’s a quick call of your name from across the enclosed space, but your ears are ringing too loud to hear—whipping around to stare at the entrance as you struggle back on your hands, legs shaking.

“Love!”

Your eyes slash to the side, and through the quivering of your lashes, through the blur of tears, you lock onto the desperate slash of grayish-blue that’s a near-perfect reflection of the ocean itself. Painting, the realization comes a moment too late, as pale fingers touch your cheek and you flinch back with a deep pain in your neck.

Pulsing veins echo along your entire body, but there, at the point of where hands had wrapped your flesh, it burned with a horrible fire that made thin noise escape your lips.

“Hey,” John breathes, having dragged himself at a moment’s notice across the floor of the cave. “Hey,” he repeats slower, eyes slashing you up and down for any sign of injury.

His hand is outstretched, but he doesn’t try to touch you again seeing how you’d jerked away. The man’s heart had stopped at that—his concern shooting up similar to how he felt when you’d raced through the entrance as if a fire was on your heels. A near panic at the fear on your face, leaving his body on high alert; eyes skating the surrounding quickly.

But the splatters of blood on your face were something to reduce him to an enraged beast.

“What is going on,” he tries to keep the rough anger from his tone, attempting to leave it soft and smooth. There’s only so much he can do, though, as you shake and pant.

Your body gradually slows itself, attention seeping back to allow you to take control of your limbs. The first thing you see clearly is John’s outstretched hand, and, then, the clench of his jaw—the eyes that follow every teardrop down the flesh of your cheek.

Openly gazing, when John sees you’re back, his blues slip to a softened caress.

“Love,” he mutters, face tight.

You shove yourself into his arms and let off a sob that echoes louder than any laughter could. Curling into his chest, water seeps into your shirt, but the all-expansive hand that keeps you close is worth every clothesline you would have to hang.

“Shh,” John breathes, knowing that he’d get an explanation when he calmed you down, even if his mind was breaking itself to try and understand. “I’m right here, Sunshine. Breathe, then…I’m right here, yeah?”

His nose pushes itself into your scalp as your head hides away, quivering body curled like a cat around a fish—no air between the two of you, chests running across the others. So little space, and yet this breathlessness was one you could welcome time and time again.

John watches, eyes always open as he glares into your hair, grip tightening the longer you cry; a feeling so potent brimming in his chest, he would be a fool to ignore it.

You were more precious to him than any ring, than any trinket he could stash away and forget about. The way his heart bent to yours was stronger than any storm.

Breathing down your scent, John sighed, kissed the top of your head, and lightly rocked you back and forth.

He’d wait as long as it took.

—

When it became apparent you couldn’t speak beyond broken little coughs and wheezes, John was quick to bring you to the water of the pool.

Now, perhaps hours later, you sit with the burn and fatigue of crying eyes, sniffling as you shove away the stain of red on your cheeks.

“Careful,” John lightly comments, grasping your hand and pulling it away. His own replaces it, wet from the water he now wades in to help. “Let me get it, eh?”

Your eyes stay stuck to his nose as fingers push away the crimson of blood easily, firm but still utterly delicate.

“I’m not glass,” you croak, one hand near your throat.

Blue eyes blink at you. “Never said you were,” he grunts, frowning, and you see his Adam’s Apple bob. “Don’t like seeing you with blood on your face, Love.”

Like it had never happened, the fingers return, and a moment later, he grumbles out, “And stop talking—you’ll make it worse.”

You hadn’t explained, not yet, but by the utter rage you see John trying to hide from you, you know he understands how you might have gotten the swelling now present on your neck. His heart had been visibly pumping the entire time you’d been here; you could hear it when he was holding you, a relentless, thump-thump-bump, thump-thump-bump in your ear.

The brunette had been clenching his jaw more as well, grunting as if a boar after every sentence, a nervous habit, perhaps. He was trying to mask it for you, but you weren’t blind.

John pauses his cleaning, glancing at your throat.

He studies your face after he hums under his breath, having to dart his gaze away for a moment.

“...Can I?” You pause, swallowing as the burn persists.

Nodding after a minute of slow contemplation, cold hands shift to press carefully—not tightening, not holding you there—resting to give relief. You only tense a little, but as the seconds draw, John watches you sag forward with a large sigh through your nose.

He lets a small sliver of calm enter him.

“Easy,” John whispers, blinking. He keeps the chill of his hands at your neck, fins shifting the water to keep him still. “When you’re ready, explain it to me, eh?” His head tilts, voice a low tease. “Glass or not.”

Your lips twitch, and the way your eyes melt could only be compared to safety. You open your lips, and John mutters lowly as your fingers brush over his own, “Quietly, now. Can hear just fine—don’t push yourself.”

Blue flickers to your touch, fingertips trailing his knuckles as the man grunts, attention fluttering back.

All you say is one name.

“Noah.”

There’s a moment of confusion on John’s face, skin wrinkling, before the understanding settles swiftly—he wasn’t a fool. From there, his expression changes ten times over; that rage, then fear for you, confusion, and stubbornness. It’s of little surprise to you that a man so loyal was reduced to a dog.

A dog with scales, that is.

Your body is still running hot—your heart still pumping, though the adrenaline has left with all of its stimulation. You’re tired, yes, that much is obvious. But you want John to hold you again.

When you shift your body, the man’s eyes widen, and he blinks quickly in shock as your legs then slip into the waves inch by inch.

A noise exits the back of his throat, and John’s mouth moves in serious question. “What are you doing? Fucking hell, would you just stay still and let me have a look at you—”

Arms grapple around his waist, and a warm head burrows into his neck.

You rest against him, body suspended in the water of the deep pool, a merman’s tail swishing to shove you the tiniest bit closer unconsciously. John’s chest bounces with every emotion, but all he does is stop you from sinking by holding you. Your eyes close at the dig of his hands, and, letting the water move the both of you, the smooth scales along your legs feel as if the finest silk. A thumb caressing up and down your spine; breath at the top of your head.

You both say nothing, and it’s a long while before either of you takes any action to leave.

—

When your words could be strung together and not broken every other sentence, you explained all of it, and the hunch you’d strung together in the meantime.

You fiddle with one of John’s rings—the emerald one—as you glance up and speak softly, voice still delicate. The pain still blossomed, but some things needed to be explained.

“I think he killed his wife.”

By the way John stops massaging the flesh of your neck, letting you rest your head in the crook of where his tail begins and skin ends, you knew he already pieced that together a while ago. Your clothes were still heavy with water, and a puddle had formed around the both of you on the rocks.

“Hm,” is all John says, fixing the position of his lips as he looks away.

He shakes his head, growling out, “You’re not going back up there. Not while he’s still walking the streets.”

You frown, but John glares without any venom. “It wasn’t a question, Love.”

“What will you do,” you whisper, voice hoarse. A brow quirks. “Run after me, John?”

The man stares, not taking it as lightly as you. “If I have to.”

Your breath hitches, hands resting numbly over the ring as John’s fingers once again continue their touching—as if he can rub away the swelling; the damage of the veins.

“You don’t have legs,” you utter, having to pause in the middle of the sentence to breathe deeply.

“I’ll crawl,” he grunts.

“The rocks are sharp.”

His face is immobile. “Then I’ll bleed.”

Your mind memorized the stubbornness of his expression—the pull of the crow’s feet beside his eyes. There wasn’t an ounce of a joke in John’s eyes; no lie. Watching him, your face is loose with wonder, and water drips from your temple to connect with those dark navy scales, glinting with the light from the outside sun growing low.

The ring in your hands is frozen, stopping its turning as your pulse soars.

John licks the corner of his mouth, glancing at the item of gold and green.

“Keep it,” he mutters, tilting his head to the ring. “More of a use to you.”

Larger fingers capture yours, and in one deft motion, the elegant item is slipped onto your digit, sitting comfortably as if made just for you.

John shrugs. “The rest of ‘em, too, if you want the damn things.” His blues card over the view of your hand, and imagines fingers filled with every bit of gold and silver obtainable to him, brought up from the ocean just to sit pretty atop your flesh. Necklaces, bracelets, belts, and accessories; the things he’d seen from far distant waters.

Oh, but they’d pale in comparison to how you would wear them.

A muse to a song. A painter to a portrait.

A women to the water.

He’d seen your latest sketches—you’d brought them down to him here—and when you were exploring this cave, he had taken a peak. Unlike him, yes, but there was a pull to it, that parchment bound by leather. He’d not seen anything like it, and as he had watched you work on occasion, he was entranced as he’d listened to you explain it. You’d told him that you could even manipulate color, and that had left his eyes widening in awe.

You were incredible, and when he saw his own likeness littering page after page, John had been unable to take his eyes off of you. A silent appreciation—a voiceless devotion. He’d never been…captured like this, so to speak. A mirror image. Details he didn’t even know himself, and yet there they were.

Beauty marks across his cheeks and nose, the scars that littered his flesh that he’d all but forgotten about, the list was endless.

But he looks at you now, and he can understand why there’s a draw to immortalize the mortal.

His fingers stay at yours, and they brush skin as they dip along your hand, falling to your wrist. You stare up into his eyes, he stares down into yours. There’s little air to be taken in between the two of you.

“John,” you utter, blue gaze stuck to your lips.

He hums, tilting his head, his body looming over yours like a shadow. By the time his face is so near to yours, you don’t want to fight it, you don’t want to think about the strangeness of this predicament you’ve found yourself in—a creature living in the cliffs, handsome and half-inhuman.

When smooth lips brush over yours, and your eyelashes begin to flutter, the shouts from outside break whatever spell had just started weaving itself.

Head snapping up, John’s body tenses as you push upward quickly. Attention slashing to the cave entrance, it’s not long before you realize what’s going on with a sharp breath and a leap to your pulse.

The smash of something connecting to rocks echoes like a feral killing song. Yells. Yowls.

“John,” you say hurriedly, flinching from the pain in your throat. Your eyes dart to his tension-ridden form, his arms wrapping above your body. “You need to run,” you choke out. “Go! Quickly!”

You only get a glance, and the clench of his jaw is as stubborn as it always is. Your brain already knows it’s fruitless. He won’t leave you here alone.

“They’ll kill you!” Your hands push at his chest, finger grasping at the bristle of hair to try and shove at an iron will.

“Stay under me,” John mutters, voice low and nothing more than a chilled order. Yet, even he knows there’s little that he’d be able to do. His eyes flashed to every trinket and bauble he had collected, the new ones he’d yet to show to you, but there was few in the way of weapons. A dagger or two from a trench, a sword from under a ship—a spearhead. All too far away and rusted for it to even matter.

There was a sharp feeling in John’s chest. A need. An oath that he gave to himself the moment he’d seen the way your little stick could breathe his image onto a sheet made of fibers.

He was to watch over you whenever you were in his sights, and that had extended itself to gliding through the water as he watched you climb and grunt your way to his cave; a careful eye that he had no need to tell you about. That was just how he was.

“John!” You try to bark again, growing desperate.

Yet, it was already too late, and the merman hadn’t shifted even an inch before Noah, Otto, and the Librarian burst through the entrance like bats from hell. They hold all manner of weapons, though the more you blink in a panic, the less afraid of them you seem, at the very least, the older man and the woman.

Otto held a cut-up and dented club, nothing more than something you’d keep for a home invasion beside the bed—the Librarian, a heavy book that seemed to contain every bit of information available to the world, so large it strained in her hands. Noah, though, was a different story.

He had a sharp, long knife and eyes that could cut flesh by themselves.

Half of Mr. Moore’s face was sliced up, cuts leaking blood to the ground—skin hanging and an eye completely poked with glass; shards in its gentle makeup.

You swallow saliva and stutter through a shaking breath, and John’s glare could burn cities as he feels it reverberating against him.

“There!” Noah shouts, balking closer. “See! I knew it was here—seducing the next woman to take to the ocean!”

Your wide eyes try to take it all in, hands slapping the ground sending droplets of collected water flying. John’s face hones in, digging in like how the glass from your brush container had into Noah’s visage, and, somehow, you think that dead stare can cause more damage. Grasping the merman’s waist, you attempt and silently urge him to go.

“Girl!” Otto calls quickly, eyes darting from you to John and back. Even if you could yell, you’re not sure you would. You wouldn’t even know what to say. “Get away from it!”

“I’d put that down,” John grunts to Noah, disregarding the old man and the librarian entirely. He clenches his jaw. “‘Fore you end up hurting yourself. Leave.”

“Otto,” you start, glancing at the woman beside your friend who looked like she was about to pass out when John had started to speak. The man in question’s face pulls, wrinkles thinning. “You have to listen to me, please, it’s not how Mr. Moore told you—”

“It speaks!” Noah barks, pointing his knife harder at John. “Freak of nature, it already has its hold on her.”

“Oh my,” the Librarian gasps. “Noah, it’s horrible—look at the tail.”

Your eyes flare with rage as John doesn’t react.

“Hey!” You shout, but instantly slap your free hand to your throat, coughing raggedly until your spine hunches. The merman brings you closer, but you’re already pushing until you’re on your feet, stumbling for a moment as John gives you a sharp look.

“You watch your bloody mouth,” you grid out, glaring, whipping your hands to get rid of the water droplets. Noah licks his lips as John grabs onto the back of your knee, fingers resting firmly. Sending a look down to him, your shoulders loosen at the expression he levels. You can almost hear the words.

Steady. Keep your head on.

Though, a slash of silent pride made your heart stutter a small bit.

Your eyes glint. “Drop your weapons,” your sentence is crackling but nonetheless sharp. “Leave. John is innocent—he told me all of it.” You turn to Otto. “Mr. Moore attacked me in my shop, I smashed a glass container into his head so he would release me.” Otto tenses, club getting strangled by his fingers.

“Noah killed Eleanor,” you breathe, John’s grip pulling a bit tighter as if sensing something you have yet to see. Noah shifts quickly, boots squeaking along the rock as he growls.

“Absurd—!”

“He pushed her over the rocks and blamed John when he saw him bringing back her body,” you interrupt as fast as you can, pain bouncing off your throat. “You all saw it on the shore, the lie was simple enough for a man like him. Saying she drowned to a creature.”

It didn’t surprise you that John was quiet, that he was studying more the stance of men instead of talking or trying to defend himself. While he could be hard-headed and stiff, he was never dull—he never missed ques. So when Noah launched himself at you, Otto and the Librarian more confused and concerned than anything, there was only a heavy push on the back of your knee that left you buckling with a gasp, and then the explosion of water as John sent you both quickly to the water.

Hands whipping to snare around the merman’s shoulders, you’re only able to get a quick breath in before you’re completely enveloped in water, with John’s hand setting itself over your mouth just in case. The sudden rush is comparable to a heavy wind, yet far more cold and nearly like a slap to the back of your spine.

You both disappear into the deep with a spray, Noah’s muffled yells of terror seen far above near the surface, arms captured by the Librarian and Otto—held at his sides. There’s a flash of those dark eyes, horrible things, and then John’s fins hide the rest as they slash through the water.

When you both resurface, retreating far back near the watery entrance of the cave, John keeps you firmly behind him, your arms around his waist as you gasp for air. He keeps his head slightly turned to the side—always having you in the corner of his vision. Above the spread of his shoulders, you peek softly, legs suspended below.

“Lier!” Noah screams, face contorted. “She’s lying!”

You look at Otto and see the grim way he’s already looking back, struggling to keep the younger individual from breaking free. He was sensical, but stubborn in his ways. Otto had a choice just as the librarian did—believe a woman who’d been here a year or someone they’d known nearly their entire lives.

“Noah,” Otto grunts, gritting his teeth. “Breathe, boy! Stop spitting, let her speak—”

The knife in Noah’s hands slashes the air, and suddenly there’s a yell from the librarian and a spray of blood.

“Otto!” You scream, fingers flinching.

The old man stumbles, hoarsely crying out as he grasps at his neck. Your eyes widen, mouth ajar as John pushes his hand into your head, shoving it into the back of his hair as he watches blankly, eyes glinting with a deadly hate.

“Don’t move,” he utters quickly, sternly, to you as your breath breaks, mouth slack to stare at nothing. Scales skate your legs, great kelp-like fins curling your ankle. “Keep still. Focus on my words, Love.” Under his breath is a tight, “Fuck!”

John speaks above the gargling—the spillage of blood to stone. He mutters through the screams of the Librarian as Noah slips trying to run to the entrance, scrambling with bulging eyes.

“Don’t look,” John says to you lowly, shifting his body as he keeps your face hidden away and let him hold you like a corpse to the earth. The sounds…oh, the sounds were horrible.

But the man holding you tries very hard to hide them.

Your body quivers violently as the slam of a body hits the ground, the frantic calling of the woman still here with the both of you; the loud calls from the fleeing murder outside the walls.

“That’s it,” John’s fast lips are on the top of your head, muttering and trying to make his voice as even as possible. “That’s it, then. Doing good, don’t move until I say so, alright?”

When you don’t answer, only shoving your visage deeper into his neck, his spine-breaking-hold squeezes once, and his pounding heart bounces opposite yours. You don’t have to say you know him to understand that he’s only holding onto a thread of good manners, and that was certainly only for our own sake.

Otto was dead.

John leads you out, the gold and emerald of your ring glinting in the moonlight as he holds your body to his, the powerful make of his tail doing the work as it shines in the water. He leaves you outside, where the still running form of Noah is visible, yet the only person noticing is John himself. Your hands are so shaky that it would be impossible to hold your sketchbook, let alone a pencil.

John takes one of them as Mr. Moore gets too close to the shoreline, slipping and getting his foot caught in between two stones. He panics, yelling loudly, as water is lapping up to his knee.

“Hey, hey, you hear me?” John asks, uncaring to the man, as he sets you down softly on a flat rock shelf. Fingers move to sit at your chin, and, through tight sniffles, you make delicate eye contact. He blinks, trying a tight smile—a flash nothing more. “There she is. Good...I need you to listen one last time, yeah? Just like before; don’t look until I say so.” Your face creases lightly, blinking through a haze of senses and horror. Otto was dead.

The man that brought you out on his boat—the man that cooked you fish and acted as if a guardian to you. His cat, who would take care of her? It seemed a silly thought given the circumstances, but you can’t stop your mind from running. The house, the boat, the cat. The blood.

“There’s nothing out here that can hurt you,” John grunts, grasping your hands and holding them, letting calluses and scars speak. “So long as I’m here, I won’t let it.”

He nearly growls out the words. In one movement, he puts your hand to his heart, and your brain latches onto the rhythm as your own rampages in your ears.

Noah is still screaming, but now it’s for help.

John’s voice lowers as he utters, “Hey,” the man licks his lips, eyes dancing to the side every once and a while. You stare, swallowing down bile. He says as fluidly as possible, keeping constant locked gazes.

“Stay here. I won’t be long.”

Fingers glide down your neck again, feeling that swelling, and just as you register the kiss that’s leveled to your hand, to that gifted ring, John’s already away; his tail slipping over your flesh, fins gripping, writhing with their film.

Yet, you have no trouble following his advice.

The rising screams from Mr. Moore are numb to you, and the following wave of water that swallows him is only accented by the hand that grapples for his neck.

John always seemed the one for revenge.

—

With the Librarian's newfound cooperation, the story became simple.

Mr. Moore, distraught over the death of his wife, had finally lost it all when down on the beach with Otto, yourself, and the local Librarian—attacking and killing the old man in response to being so near to where he and his wife always traveled to. Afterward, he’d walked into the sea and had taken his own life.

The authorities weren’t going to dispute it.

You sold Otto's house a week after his death, seeing as he’d named you the sole inheritor of his estate and belongings. There was no need for two properties, and sitting in that small place was akin to torture. After all, he’d been doing what he thought was right, and dying for a lie is nothing short of cruel to those left behind who knew the truth.

Harriet stays in the shop with you, where she’ll probably live out the rest of her nine lives peacefully. She’s quite fond of the fireplace.

Most days, people find you near the water, and it’s something that wasn’t going to change even after Noah’s body was found in the rocks—freakishly close to where Eleanor’s had been. Some were calling it poetic and you’d have to agree…but for different reasons.

“You shouldn’t be giving me all of these,” you huff months later, sitting on the rock looking out over the water. A large collection of John’s trinkets is piled high in a wrapping of seaweed, shining bright as you mess with your pencil, leaning to stare at him.

John’s lips flicker into a smirk. He hums, content to watch you, from where he rests not an inch away. You lean into him, sighing, as the innumerable glinting rings on your fingers shimmer.

“Want to,” he grumbles.

Rolling your eyes, you look back down to your book, three of four replicas of the man’s scale pattern sitting, shaded and duplicated—lifelike. His tail sways with the water, half of it lost below.

Your hands reach for them now, the scales closest to you, and you lightly poke and prod as John grunts above you, silent but willing in a way that speaks volumes. He’d let no one else touch him like this for the rest of his life—the softness of your fingers and the care on your face more precious than gold. You revered that tail of his; as if it gave over magic like a wishing well.

Shivering, John’s breath hitches as your exploring moves, pushing lightly at where the top of his hips would be.

Your talent was fascinating to him, just as you were. If you wanted to ‘paint’ him, he’d allow you to do all the studies needed. Not only to give you a distraction….but because he can’t bear to be away from you anymore. It makes him nervous, and that in itself is an incredible feat.

“Where do you come from, John,” your question moves the air, and the man moves to pull your jacket higher up your body to stave off the chill. You glance at him, smiling, before your attention returns to your drawings. Sketching more, John resets his lips and tries not to stare at your face. It was getting harder to deny that pull.

That near kiss.

“No answer, Love.” You stare as he quirks a lip, voice lowering. “I won’t be going back to distant waters anytime soon.”

John glances down at your sketchbook, seeing every scratch and bend of care. The both of you were strange creatures, perhaps. Unique—made for one another despite the obvious.

He nods his head to it softly. The water laps at your boots from below, but you care little before John shifts your feet carefully further up with a push from his tail. You chuckle at him breathily, face heating.

“Getting water on you, Love,” he breathes. “New painting soon?” John asks when the silence settles once more, with you shifting your legs to sit under you. He still isn’t sure what painting entails, but you had told him that you would show him soon, so he knows to be patient. But yearning for anything regarding you is ingrained into his mind now—instinct.

“Mhm,” you smile softly, sending a look at your paper and the images. A huff escapes your mouth. “I think I’ll make this one a portrait.”

John blinks, tilting his head slightly. “Portrait? Why’s that?”

Your lips find his, moving back up in an instant.

For a second, the man’s surprised eyes pull back; only lowering as he hums moments later, fingers curling up under your chin as he sags. Lids flutter closed, and his tail twitches lightly.

“I have a subject that’s caught my eye.” You mutter into his flesh when you pull back, face burning as deep blues sear your mind, turning it into mush. Your skin tingles as chilled digits trail your chin, dripping water down your healed throat.

John watches, lips parted, as you continue on.

“And I’d be a fool if I let him swim off.”

The both of you were going to be perfectly fine.

TAGS:

@sheviro-blog, @ivebeentrashsince2001, @mrshesh, @berryjuicyy, @romantic-homicide, @kmi-02, @neelehksttr, @littlemisstrouble, @copperchromewriting, @coelhho-brannco, @pumpkinwitchcrusade, @fictional-men-have-my-heart, @sleepyqueerenergy, @cumikering, @everything-was-dark, @marmie-noir, @anna-banana27, @iamcautiouslyoptimistic, @irenelunarsworld, @rvjaa, @sarcanti, @aeneanc, @not-so-closeted-lesbian, @mutuallimbenclosure, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @gildedpoenies, @glitterypirateduck, @writeforfandoms, @kohsk3nico, @peteymcskeet, @caramlizedtomatoes, @yoursweetobsession, @quesowakanda, @chthonian-spectre, @so-no-feint, @ray-rook, @extracrunchymilk, @doggydale, @frazie99, @develised, @1-800-no-users-left, @nuncubus, @aldis-nuts, @clear-your-mind-and-dream, @noonanaz, @cosmicpro, @stinkaton, @waves-against-a-cliff, @idocarealot

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nerdygirlramblings · 3 months ago

Note

Sis! First of all, hope you are healthy, happy and doing just fine

And sorry for my selfishnes but could you write something for comfort please? Yesterday someone poisoned another one of my dogs, a farm dog, she was the sweetest, clingiest fluffiest thing, and they poisoned two times, she recuperated for the first but not the second TToTT what would the team do if reader did try all to save one of the local dogs in a military camp and this happened? Would they comfort them? Would they search and stop the one doing the poisoning? After all dogs even local dogs end up alerting for strangers.

And just to see how really sensitive pets are, one of my dobermans is staying clingy to me and making a half hug all day since the other one died.

Sorry for the ramble and feel free to ignore

Thank you so much

Oh @boogeysmoth ! I am so sorry 😭 that is terrible 💔

I did my best for this request. Your sweet farm dog deserved better 💔💔

tw: animal death

Price found you, sobbing, next to what he first thought was a pile of sandy rags. You'd been stuck at the desert base for a month now and the damn sand got everywhere, and he couldn't tell what was so heartbreaking about the tags until he got closer and saw what it really was you were crying over.

The dog.

The local mutt you'd been feeding for four weeks. The animal he was sure you'd be begging him to find transport for when you were finally shipped back home.

You'd called him Vaheh. Said it meant 'oasis' in the local language. Told the dog he was your little spot of paradise in all this sand.

And now it was dead.

Price sat next to you and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. You leaned your head against his and, with hiccuping sobs said, "I think someone poisoned him."

Price grunted, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. You both knew how dangerous a non-military dog could be, especially when it was local. Just like you both knew how most bases took care of those kinds of security issues. Hell, before you'd joined them, it's likely he would have sent Ghost to do this very thing on day one.

But you had joined them. You and your big heart. Heart big enough to hold them all close. Heart big enough to worry about the world. Heart so big you showed them there was a different way. Couldn't use it on your targets, but on this, on an animal that would have otherwise been collateral damage? Your big heart showed them how far love could get you.

And Vaheh was proof. He'd stopped barking that first day when you'd left the chicken from your MRE out for him. By day three he didn't growl at you and your offering of slightly overdone roast beef. By the end of the week, he'd come trotting over when he heard the rip of the packaging. You happily gave him your food. And despite their protests, over the last two weeks, you'd periodically convinced Price, Ghost, Soap, and Gaz to donate their protein to Vaheh too.

Yeah, Price knew you were planning to bring the dog back home before you could even ask. He couldn't fathom who would have done this or why. "C'mon," he said, pulling you closer, "Vaheh deserves more 'an this." He stood and pulled you up after him. "You wait here and think 'a all the things ya liked about 'im."

Price went to find the others and a shovel to bury the dog. He knew a grave would have to be deep, and a bit further from the base, so he snagged a set of humvee keys from base transportation. Shovel and keys in hand, he found Gaz first. It took him a moment to explain why he had a shovel, but the younger man needed no convincing to take it from him and go find you. Soap was coming out of the mess when Price spotted him. A brief word about where you were and why and the Scot was off at a trot to grab an old blanket before heading your way. Price found Ghost in the armory. The lieutenant audibly growled when he heard someone poisoned your dog. Price only just kept him from tearing through the base to find the person responsible. It wouldn't be what you wanted, and it wouldn't bring Vaheh back either.

By the time the Ghost was with you, you'd stopped crying. Soap had lain the blanket over Vaheh's body, and Gaz was about to start digging when an engine rumbled louder and louder. Price commandeered a vehicle which you all poured into, Ghost riding shotgun, the sergeants in the middle, and you with Vaheh's body in the very back. Price didn't drive far, just away enough from the base to keep your activity private.

He helped you lower Vaheh out of the truck then set Gaz and Soap to digging a deep hole. While they dug, Price had you talk to him and Ghost about the dog. It was painful, especially since he'd only been in your life for such a short time, but it felt good too. You knew what happened would have happened sooner if not for you, and it gave you comfort to know you'd made Vaheh's last few weeks better.

Two weeks after you got home, Price knocked on your barracks door and dropped a large envelope unceremoniously into your hands when you opened it. "Fer the dog," he said gruffly before walking away. You hadn't forgotten Vaheh or the sadness of his death, so you opened the envelope with shaking hands. In it was paperwork work for a star. A star with your name. The sticky note on it said it's coordinates put it directly over Vaheh's gravesite, "So you can watch over him all the time."

The tears you shed were bittersweet but made your heart feel lighter.

#cod #poly!141 #poly!141 x reader #tf 141 #tf 141 x reader #kyle garrick #johnny mactavish #simon riley #john price #nerdygirl says #nerdygirl answers

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ricefamine · 20 days ago

Text

HI EVERYONE!! MY POLL HAS CLOSED AND ITS TIME FOR ME TO WRITE FOR LUFFY HEHE!! Honestly it's hard for me to write long stories so I tried my best lol

Luffy x fem!reader (established relationship)

Summary: you and the crew go to a small island called "jewel Island" full of shores of jewelry!

Fluff! Ooc!luffy

The thousand sunny was approaching a big.. and somehow sparkly island? Everyone looked shocked and amazed. This wasn't just some regular island, the shores were filled with jewels and jewelry! Nami was absolutely in shock, not only could she sell this jewelry for berries she could also have boat loads of treasure!! As the sunny came to a halt to the dock of this island there was a lot of clinking noises.

Nami ran straight to the dock and immediately started collecting jewel after jewel while the others were just staring in amazement. Franky collected some pretty flashy bracelets, while sanji was collecting rings to propose to random women with..? Jinbei was going underwater to collect some stray jewels and Zoro, ussop, chopper and brook just mainly stared after a little chopper and usopp went to collect as much jewels as they could! It was basically heaven!

But that usually doesn't last long does it, welp it was good for now! The locals of the island didn't really seem to care about pirates all to much so they were good! You and luffy were also taking some jewels and jewelry but instead of taking them into bags like the others, luffy was just trying to find something of some sort. You blew it off your boyfriend is just like that anyways! But you became a little suspicious when you realized he was just searching for rings and nothing else but again you blew it off as usual.

"HEY GUYS!" Nami yelled "I NEED ANOTHER BAG COULD SOMEONE THROW ONE OVER HERE!" you went back on the ship to put away your bag and went to go give Nami a new bag.

"Hey nami, how many bags you got so far?" You asked curiously.

"I got about, let me think.. I'm pretty sure I have 12 bags!" She said excitedly.

"Thats a lot! I only have 2 bags."

"How much does luffy have? He must have a lot!" Nami said happily.

"He actually has no bags like at all, and have no idea why! He's just been trying to find something for ages now and the funny thing is he keeps looking at rings! I mean sanji is too but he's just picking every ring he sees! It isn't bad but I still wanna know why he's just picking rings.."

"I mean can't you just ask? You're his girlfriend after all, he basically tells you everything about himself."

"I'll go ask then, I'll tell you ehat he says when I'm back, alright?"

Nami nods and you go back to luffy who's still searching for something.

"Hey lu, whatcha searching for?" You asked curiously

"It's a secret!! I can't tell you but I'll tell you later okay?!!!"

You nod and go back to nami telling her what happened, she did find it odd that he wasn't telling you but at least he said he would tell you later right?

After all the collecting everyone went back on the ship to see their winnings!

Usopp had 11 bags

Franky had 14 bags

Chopper had 6 bags

Jinbei had 23 bags

Brook had 17 bags

Nami had a whopping 28 bags!

Sanji had 4 bags

Zoro had 6 bags

You had 7 bags

And finally luffy had.. no bag! He just had a little box. Odd he would usually get bucket loads of this stuff!

It was the after noon, nami was helping sanji cook dinner and you were setting up the table with Robin. Luffy was tiptoeing to your bedroom, he was pretty bad at it so you caught him before he could even go in.

"Lu why are you going into my room? And what's with that little box?"

"I said it's a secretttt, I'll tell you later okay!"

"Alright luffy.." as you say that luffy gives you a big smooch on your cheek and goes to the kitchen! (He's pestering sanji for extra food.)

After dinner everyone went to their cabins, you and luffy share one as of a few weeks ago but it's pretty nice!

"Hey (name).. I'm gonna tell you the secret now!" He said excitedly.

"Uh huh let me hear it lu." You waited for him to show you or tell you.

Luffy pulls out that small box again and opens it, it was a beautiful shimmering ring and it was your favorite color!

"Luffy?! There's no way this is for me I can't accept this!" You said shocked, but wait.. IS THIS MAN ABOUT TO PROPOSE?!

"(Full name) will you marry me! And become pirate queen when I become pirate king!"

"Oh luffy.. I WILL! I WILL MARRY YOU!" you said with tears in your eyes you hugged and kissed his face excitedly!

After a while of you celebrating with giving him kisses and loving you both fell asleep in each other arms as the ring he got for you was shimmering on your ring finger.

────୨ৎ────

Hihi! This might not be very long ngl😭 but in the future I'll try my best to write even more!! I'm currently at episode 522 of one piece! I'll be writing for law soon guys!!

@sillyeonn

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x you #luffy x reader #luffy x you #luffy #monkey d. luffy #op luffy #luffy x y/n #luffyisamazing

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the-maid-of-witchwood · 2 months ago

Note

My good friend, gimme your Steph and her ships headcanons

But of course!

Solo headcanons:

Steph was a hidden pregnancy, nobody knew she was there until her mom (Georgina) went into labour - her parents didn’t want children

Becky was one of her first nannies but only lasted a couple months as Solomon found her really soft and annoying, so as soon as Georgina died, she was fired

She and Grace first met as babies but neither of them know it

Steph was a pretty spoiled child

Shop is her favourite class and the only one she’s consistently getting good marks/attendance for

Mr. Houston is her favourite teacher

Is part of the Smoke Club but isn’t frequently there as much these days

Had a very big Heathers phase, still kinda does

She also had a Hunger Games phase before that and got really into archery, took up classes. Her aim is extraordinarily sharp

She’s actually really athletic and good at a handful of sports, she just doesn’t really bother in school anymore

She is a really avid music listener but cannot read sheet music or play instruments for shit

Really into rock specifically

The online girlie™

Loves horror - films, TV shows, games - and has always been really invested in creepypasta

May or may not have told some scary stories to the Monroe boys’ at the country club and scared them shitless

Seriously, if Steph was in charge of the prank, she could have given Max a heart attack

Is actually really good at debate because her father made her take classes and she gets plenty of practice when getting involved in internet drama

Clearly wins a lot of arguments against him now that she’s older, which gives her the power and cockiness to just wave away his influence and orders (until he gets at her phone of course)

She also is really good at politics

She’s actually really close with Jason and Kyle - childhood friends, basically her older brothers

Cheats at games

Is the “Dakota” in their group’s DND (see StarKid Rolls the Dice)

She’s dyslexic

Was diagnosed late in high school as Solomon was convinced she was just stupid and making excuses as to why she couldn’t do her work

Steph and Miss Tessburger do secretly care about each other. Neither will admit it. Wouldn’t go as far as mother-and-daughter relationship, but definitely tone their bitchiness (to each other) down if they notice the other is having a bad day

Steph puts her money into crypto. Sorry, I can’t imagine Solomon knows what it is or why he’d bother with something so silly

Fidgets with her rings a lot

Is really confident in her own skin, as she should be because she is so beautiful and literally has the school falling after her

Is actually a really good photographer

Her Insta page is undeniably killer

Someone get this girl a proper camera though because the phone can only do so much

In middle school, she, Brenda and Stacy did wear pink every Wednesday

She is incredibly well travelled - having had the money to go anywhere and her father only taking the best holidays - and she really enjoys travelling

One of the taller girls

Claims she doesn’t do dressing up because it’s lame, but gets really into Halloween

Flawless makeup and hair always

People haven’t seen her otherwise for years

Once bribed Grace to let her paint her nails in exchange for having to listen to Grace tell her about the bible. They keep doing this. Steph wipes it all off at the end of the school day so Grace doesn’t get in trouble with her parents

Has a lot of opinions on Spotify Wrapped (both general and hers specifically)

She and Zoey are near identical, leading to the latter always getting mistaken for Steph (as the more well known of the two because local celebrity, the Mayor’s daughter) but Steph has been mistaken for Zoey once or twice by Sam. Kicks him every time

Doesn’t like fake nails

Is a very physical person, especially when showing love

Spends a lot of money on her loved ones

The most competitive person

Lautity:

Pan for pan!

Steph makes a lot of corny pan related jokes, Grace finds them really funny

Again, Grace fell first, Steph fell harder

Steph tries going to church with Grace but really struggles with it

She will, however, attend events at church (bake sales, charity auction, etc) and just messes with the pastors by asking silly questions

Insert Mariah’s “Yah, Father!” here

Is probably Mark and Karen’s least favourite person for that reason

Don’t worry, she gets on really well with Grace’s aunt, Lucy. These bitches talk so much gossip and shit on Grace’s parents (and the Jerries because fuck them)

It’s because of Lucy they met as babies but that’s a story for another time

Grace tries watching horror for Steph but doesn’t like it, spends most of it curled up and hiding in Steph’s side. She still agrees to watch every time

Steph watches documentaries with Grace and asks her questions throughout because Grace talking about her interests is precious

The nerds help Steph write a love note for Grace

They then help Grace make a meme for Steph

Steph has tried and failed to play Grace’s flute

Steph buys Grace sheet music for the dumbest songs (Never Gonna Give You Up, Coconut Mall, All Star, the Mii song, etc) and has her play them for the group, forcing the nerds to listen to them and then tell Grace how good she is

Ruth makes them go see Wicked together as a friend group, purely to have Grace and Steph unknowingly go as Elphaba and Glinda by just wearing their regular clothes/colours. Steph, having definitely seen stuff for the film is prepared, they both show up dressed as completely different movie characters

(Steph went as Jessica Rabbit and Grace went as Sleeping Beauty)

They also didn’t watch the movie at all because they spent the whole time staring at each other and kissing

Burnerphone (Lex x Steph):

The only Steph ship where she loses her dominance

Lex won’t put up with her entitled, rich girl bullshit and will tell her when she’s being a brat

Steph will be more of a brat in the hopes of getting told off for it in the bedroom

They knew of each other when Lex was still in school and interacted in passing but that was about it

They met later through Ziggs at a party

Smoking buds

Lex gets on fairly well with Steph’s friends, though they are awkward because Lex is the epitome of “older, cool college girlfriend” in spite of not in college

Steph smuggles Lex into all the senior events they missed (homecoming, lock in, ditch day, prom, graduation) - probably bought Grace off to keep her quiet about it

Same music tastes

Gets on really well with Hannah

Steph doesn’t really do kids but she makes an exception here

Sends Hannah a photo of a random spider she finds almost every day with the caption “dude, is this ur webby?”

She has absolutely dragged Pamela for filth, if not gotten physical, in most of their interactions

Pamela is convinced Lex is dating Steph just for money

Steph only goes to Toy Zone to flirt with Lex and annoy the fuck out of Frank by shooting him with a nerf gun

Lex isn’t comfortable with a lot of fancy, expensive dates, so they usually just drive out somewhere quiet and have a picnic together

Steph convinces Lex to audition for plays in Hatchetfield

Firephone? Firelight? I don’t know what their ship name is or if they even have one but (Brooke x Steph):

Essentially the more chaotic, less chill and pyromaniac version of Burnerphone

They are Grace’s worst nightmare and honestly Miss Mulberry’s too (and half the HFFD and HFPD)

Smoking buds

Brooke brings out Steph’s impulsivity to its full power

Steph encourages Brooke’s don’t give a fuck attitude

Personally responsible for all the fire alarms going off in Hatchetfield High

If these two both leave to go to the bathroom together, you might as well grab your shit and head outside now

They are big time gossipers

Definitely get into the most insane situations

Seriously, playing Never Have I Ever with them is an experience because you get to hear about all their stories which are really good but totally nuts

Probably meet up when being sent to the Principal’s office, go off, make out and then come back like nothing happened

Queens of the Smoke Club

I already did Lautski and Lautskity for Pete

#mari’s asks #mari’s headcanons #stephanie lauter #lautity #burnerphone

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justaparsec94 · 1 year ago

Text

Company

Summary: You're put in charge of keeping an eye on Tech while he's recovering from his broken leg. The job turns out to be not at all what you were expecting.

Pairing: Tech x Reader

Word Count: 4,941

Author's Note: I've had this posted on my AO3 account for a while but I just had so much fun writing it that I thought I would share it here too!

***************

“I still like mantell mix the best,” Omega said thoughtfully as the two of you made your way through the busy streets of Ord Mantell back towards Cid’s. You each were carrying a bag of a somewhat unidentifiable treat you had picked up from one of the local vendors. The two of you, plus Wrecker when he wasn’t otherwise occupied, were on a mission to try all of the local snacks Ord Mantell had to offer and so far you had put a fairly large dent in the local offerings.

“I agree,” You said with a nod as you swiftly sidestepped a few drunken men leaving a nearby bar, even with all of the other noise their voices cut through the evening obnoxiously. Out of habit, you put your hand on Omega’s shoulder, pulling her closer to your side protectively as you continued on your way, “This is good, but it just doesn’t cut it.”

“What do you think it is, exactly?” Omega asked, holding a piece up in front of her face, inspecting it.

“That is a very good question,” You replied with a laugh. Perhaps the two of you should have been more careful about what you were eating but there was something fun about throwing all caution to the wind when it came to snacks. You just hoped it wasn’t something too horrible.

“Maybe we should get Tech to run an analysis on it,” Omega suggested as Cid’s came into view.

“Good idea,” You said with another laugh. Though your laugh was cut short by the sight that greeted the two of you. Simultaneously you pulled to a stop to watch the scene unfold.

Echo and Wrecker were supporting, or perhaps dragging was a better word, a very disgruntled-looking Tech towards Cid’s as Hunter trailed along behind them.

“This is completely unnecessary,” Tech said, sounding very much like an angry Tooka as his brothers pulled him along with them. He appeared to be doing his best to resist their movement but with only one good leg he wasn’t very successful against his two very strong brothers.

You leaned closer to Omega and whispered to her, “Do you want to take a guess what this is about?”

Omega seemed to ponder the scene for a moment before she opened her mouth to reply but whatever she had been about to say was cut off by Hunter speaking.

“You need to rest, Tech,” Hunter replied drily, “That’s an order.”

“Are we going on another mission?” Omega asked suddenly springing into action and closing the gap between herself and her brothers.

“Yes, we-“ Hunter started but was cut off by Tech once more.

“I am perfectly capable of flying the ship in this condition,” He protested. For most, a broken femur would have been debilitating, Tech, on the other hand, seemed to take it as a challenge. In the few days they had been back you had lost count of the number of times you had found him doing something he definitely should not have been doing with such a serious injury. Just that morning you had found him underneath the control panel of The Marauder tinkering away on something. How he had managed to get down to the floor when he could barely move his leg was still a mystery to you.

Hunter shot him a look that clearly indicated that there was no negotiating, “Rest.”

“C’mon Tech, just take it easy for a bit,” Wrecker joined in, “We’ll be back in no time and you’ll be ready for the next one!”

Echo and Wrecker didn’t let him even start protesting and with a good-natured chuckle from Wrecker they disappeared through the door of Cid’s. Omega bounced after them as you approached Hunter.

“You had to physically remove him from The Marauder?” Though it really wasn’t much of a question. Clearly, Tech had not been happy about the decision to leave him behind.

“Stubborn di’kut,” Hunter grumbled but there was such fondness in his eyes that his words were meaningless. The two of you made your way into the bar, which as per usual was nearly empty except for Cid and the regulars. You watched as Wrecker and Echo hauled Tech towards the back, Cid following along behind grumbling darkly before you turned your attention back to the Sergeant beside you.

“Where are we off to this time?” You asked as you popped the last of your mystery snack into your mouth.

Hunter instantly looked sheepish which made your brow furrow as you frowned at him. He lifted his hand to rub absently at the back of his neck, “Uh, actually, we were hoping you would stay behind this time around.”

“But I stayed behind last time!” You protested, you knew your voice was coming out whiny, but you didn’t care at the moment, “And you needed me!” You and Tech were the only two members of the squad with decent medical training and given that Tech had been the one who was injured it had truly been the one time you could have been helpful and yet you had been back on Ord Mantell, working in a back alley medical clinic that Cid had her grubby hands in. You didn’t necessarily enjoy working there, especially since it was profiting off of injured and ill people, but your time there was helping to pay off the considerable debt the batch had with Cid.

“We’re just going on a simple supply drop-off. We shouldn’t be gone more than a few hours,” Hunter replied, still looking chastised at your annoyance.

“Why me?” You asked, “I know I’m not the most skilled member of the squad but I can’t be that much of a dud.”

Hunter shook his head, but you didn’t miss the small smirk that had settled on his lips, “It has nothing to do with that. You’re an excellent member of this team. It’s just, we need someone to keep an eye on Tech and he likes you so we thought you might have a better chance of getting him to listen to you.”

You frowned, well, that was news to you. Sure, the two of you got along well when he wasn’t being so well, Tech-ish, but there had always been a tension that you had felt between the two of you. Since the day you had been assigned to them, you had felt as though he was always testing your abilities, as though you weren’t good enough for the squad and he was set on proving it. There always seemed to be something you could do better or something you didn’t know the answer to. It had always bothered you because deep down you desperately wanted his approval. Despite his tendency to be somewhat arrogant and overly pragmatic you truly liked him. He was so smart and charming in his own unique way. You liked his calm nature and dry wit. And when the topic wasn’t what you were doing incorrectly you enjoyed listening to him chat about whatever came into his mind, you found his facts interesting even when everyone else scoffed at him. You also couldn’t deny that you found him incredibly attractive but that was buried deep and likely a confession that would never see the light of day. It was clear that whatever you felt for him was one-sided.

“I don’t think that’s true…” You replied to Hunter, the frown on your face deepening as you looked at him.

“It is,” Hunter said with a nod, there was an indistinguishable look in his eyes that you didn’t like but it was gone nearly as quickly as it appeared, “You’ll keep an eye on him?”

You sighed as you crossed your arms over your chest. Hunter chuckled softly at your look, “It appears I don’t have much of a choice… but I’ll try my best,” It was as much of a promise you could give when it came to Tech. You knew that you would likely find him doing something he shouldn’t be within an hour of the rest of the Batch departing.

“Thank you,” Hunter said, resting a gentle hand on your shoulder just as Echo and Wrecker returned from the back room. Omega appeared at Hunter’s side a moment later, her face bright with excitement as she looked up at her brothers.

“Where are we off to?” She asked as she rocked back and forth on her heels excitedly.

“We’ll brief you on the way to the ship,” Hunter said. He gave you another nod before he turned towards the door, Omega hot on his heels as he left.

"Good luck,” Echo said, giving your shoulder a supportive pat as he passed by.

“Try not to kill him,” Wrecker added with a laugh before the two of them also made their way out of the bar. You sighed to yourself as you turned towards where they had hauled Tech off. You likely didn’t have much time before he started climbing through the rafters or something equally ridiculous so with another sigh you pulled your data pad from your bag and headed into the back room.

Somewhat unexpectedly, Tech was sitting up on the makeshift bed that had been made for him in the back room with his back against the wall, datapad in hand. He didn’t even look up when you entered the room. You could still see the tension in his shoulders and the lines of his face even from where you were standing. He was clearly still upset about being left behind so you refrained from saying anything. You wandered over to the small stool at his bedside and sat yourself down. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Tech freeze, his head popped up and you could feel his gaze on the side of your face.

After a moment you turned your head to meet his gaze. He looked confused. His brow furrowed beneath his goggles as he looked you over.

“Was there something that you required?” he asked after another long moment of simply staring at you.

You felt your face flush at his blunt words. You were fairly used to his ways and manner of expressing himself but every once and a while it still caught you off guard. Apparently, this was one of those times, “No, I just thought you might like some company…”

“That is not necessary,” he stated matter of factly. Your previous slight embarrassment increased tenfold and your face positively burned. So much for Hunter’s assurance that he actually liked you.

“Oh- uh, I guess I’ll go then…” you started awkwardly, standing back up from the stool. You weren’t sure why you thought he would actually enjoy your company and the fact that you had made your insides squirm uncomfortably.

“I did not say you had to leave,” Tech said, stopping you in your tracks, “I do not wish you to feel obligated to spend time with me. I know Hunter likely put you up to this.”

Despite him being correct about Hunter you denied it, “I don’t feel obligated. I like spending time with you. It’s a lot better than spending time with those two bottom feeders out there, or worse, Cid.”

You didn’t miss the small smirk that had suddenly appeared on his face or the way the tension in his body had disappeared, “Well I am glad that I at least rank above those three.”

“I would say you probably make the top 10,” You teased as you eased yourself back onto the stool beside him.

His smirk grew, “Probably?”

“It’s a fluid list,” You replied with a shrug before flashing a teasing smile at him.

“And exactly how does one get to the top of the list?” He asked as he set his datapad down on his lap. His attention was now completely focused on you.

“Oh that’s secret information,” You replied, “I wouldn’t want to give anyone an unfair advantage."

Tech seemed to consider that for a moment, “That is understandable. I will accept that answer and my ranking as you see fit. And in any case, I do enjoy a challenge,” If it had been anyone other than Tech you would have actually thought his tone was downright flirtatious. But that couldn’t be right. This was Tech. He didn’t even like you…

He gave you a look that you would almost consider shy before he turned his attention back to his data pad. You couldn’t stop the soft and nervous chuckle that escaped you as you mimicked his actions and pulled your data pad up, powering it on and opening up the most recent novel you had started reading.

A comfortable silence settled around the two of you as you both focused on your datapads. Despite your initial annoyance at being left behind it was actually nice to have some downtime. Quiet was hard to come by in your squad. It didn’t take long for you to get fully invested in the somewhat cheesy romance novel you were reading and time began to slip. Every once in a while you would peek over at Tech but much to your surprise he seemed content to actually stay put and not cause you any headaches.

After a while you noticed an ache beginning in your lower back, at first, it was ignorable but eventually, you started shifting uncomfortably on the stool. It had been fine at first but the longer you sat the more the lack of back support was beginning to bother you. You were just considering moving it so you could prop yourself up against the wall when Tech spoke up.

“That stool does not have enough lumbar support,” he said without even looking at you. Clearly, he had noticed your fidgeting at some point though.

“Yeah, I’m very aware of that,” you replied with a soft chuckle as you stood up. You felt Tech’s gaze on you as you did so. The screeching of the metal legs of the stool disturbed the relative silence of the room as you pushed it closer to the wall with your foot. It still wasn’t the best option but you hoped it would at least be a bit better. It wasn’t the worst place you’d ever sat, that was for sure.

You were just about to sit when Tech’s voice interrupted you, “You may sit with me if you wish,” he said casually. He had returned his attention to his datapad so he missed the shocked expression you knew was on your face, “There is more than enough room and your back will be better supported.”

It was something straight out of one of your daydreams, so much so that you couldn’t quite believe he had suggested it. Sure, you had been in closer proximity before but usually that was only out of necessity. Crowded beneath the ship doing repairs, a steadying hand during a mission, the occasional pat on the shoulder. But this felt very different.

“A-alright,” you said, suddenly sounding shy even to your own ears before you climbed up onto the bed beside him.

He had moved over slightly and there was enough room for the two of you to sit comfortably side by side in the bed but your legs were still touching as you settled, the heat of him burning through you.

You knew your face was flushed and your heart had picked up its pace as you held up your datapad once more. You just hoped Tech hadn’t noticed the effect his proximity was having on you.

“What are you reading?” Tech asked after a long moment. If you weren’t mistaken there was something that sounded like strain in his voice.

“Oh,” you replied, a wave of embarrassment washing through you as you looked towards him but actively avoided his gaze, “It’s just a silly romance novel.”

“It is not silly if you enjoy it,” Tech stated matter of factly, “What is it about?”

Despite his assurance, you were hesitant to tell him, you didn’t want him to add this to his list of things that were deficient about you.

He seemed to notice your hesitation, “Perhaps you can read me a passage so I may determine if I wish to pursue reading this novel when you have finished with it.”

“You read novels?” You asked in surprise. You hadn’t pegged him as the type to read anything that wasn’t purely academic or related to your missions.

“Yes, despite what others may believe I do not spend all of my time reading scientific or technical journals. I find novels to be an interesting insight into the behaviors of sentient beings, even if most of them are rather outlandish and unrealistic at times,” Tech replied.

You couldn’t help but smile softly at his answer, of course, he would read them for research purposes rather than just pure enjoyment. Though now that your initial question was answered you realized you had completely missed his true request.

“You-you want me to read it to you?” You asked feeling suddenly awkward by the content of your book and his request.

“Yes,” he said with a nod, “I require further analysis to determine if it would be worth my time.”

“O-ok,” you agreed hesitantly before you picked up where you had left off. You weren’t sure how much of the plot he would pick up given that you were already more than halfway through but if anyone could pick it up it would be him. You read quietly, not wanting your voice to carry out into the hall where Cid or anyone else might hear but your voice was still loud enough that it seemed to reverberate around the small room.

“He kissed her with a passion he didn’t even know he possessed. His one hand on the small of her back gently held her flush against him as the other reached up to cup her face…” You were suddenly very grateful that it wasn’t an overly raunchy part of the book as your voice cracked slightly as you read. You weren’t sure why you were so embarrassed, it wasn’t like you had written it, but the thought of even reading about kissing in Tech’s presence set your whole body aflame.

Thankfully the book moved on with the plot with only minor swapping of spit. You had been reading for quite a while before you noticed movement out of the corner of your eye. Tech was fidgeting in his seat now. Enough that you paused your reading, lowering your datapad into your lap as you looked over at him. He seemed to be actively avoiding your gaze as he continued to squirm slightly.

“Are you alright?” You asked, concern lacing your tone, “Is it your leg? I can’t get you more pain medication…”

“No. My leg is fine,” he answered abruptly. His gaze flickered towards you momentarily before he looked away again.

You suddenly noticed that the tips of his ears had grown red and a sudden thought dawned on you. Maybe he wasn’t as unaffected by the content of your novel as you might have thought, “Do you want me to move?”

“No. That is not necessary,” he replied, just as abruptly as before.

“Are you sure?” You asked hesitantly, though he had finally seemed to settle once more. His eyes finally met yours but he glanced away quickly, “You seem… uncomfortable.”

“I am fine. Please continue,” he seemed to pause for a moment, as though he was considering what he was about to say next, “You have a very pleasing voice.”

You felt your face flush bright red and your eyebrows shot up in surprise, “You-you think my voice is pleasing?”

“Among other things,” Tech replied, though he said it so softly that you wondered briefly if he’d actually meant to say it out loud.

If you had thought your face had felt hot before it was nothing compared to how it felt now as you stared at the side of his face. He was looking around the room as though he hadn’t just dropped a major bomb of information on you.

“What-what do you mean?” You asked once it was clear he was not going to elaborate without prompting.

Finally, he looked back over at you, though the expression on his face was as if you had just asked the most obvious question in the world, “You are very conventionally attractive. I have conducted my own research on this matter by comparing you to others of similar age, origin, and species and have found you possess more desirable physical and intellectual traits than average.”

You felt as though you were going to burst into flame. He couldn’t possibly be admitting that he personally found you attractive, could he? Your heart was racing in your chest at the implication. Suddenly a different and somewhat unwelcome thought entered your head and your eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion as you looked at him, “How much pain medication have you been given?”

Tech’s eyebrows shot towards his hairline in surprise, “A fair amount, but regardless, I am simply stating the facts. This is not a drug-induced confession.”

You were quiet for a long moment, “I honestly thought you didn’t like me very much...” you admitted softly as your blood continued to race in your veins.

Tech looked completely shocked by your admission, “Why in the galaxy would think that?”

You shrugged, suddenly embarrassed by your honest thoughts, “I just often feel like you’re testing me to see if I actually belong with this squad and usually I feel like I come up short.”

Tech looked honestly distressed by your words, his brown eyes were wide beneath his goggles, concern evident in the depths of them, “That- If I have ever made you feel unwelcome or uncomfortable please know that is not my intention. You are as much a part of this squad as any of my brothers, you’re one of us,” you noticed that suddenly the tips of his ears had turned red again and his gaze strayed from yours as he spoke, “I only test you because I know what you are capable of. I push you to be better because I want to ensure your safety. Perhaps my methods have been misguided though.”

“Oh,” you replied lamely, unsure of what else to say but inside your heart was warming at his admission. It felt as though a massive weight had been lifted from your shoulders to find out that he actually didn’t dislike you. That his actions were out of concern not a lack of confidence in your abilities.

The redness from his ears had traveled down to his neck as you looked up at him, his gaze seemed to be focused on everywhere other than you when he spoke again, “I - I care for you a great deal.”

You’d always thought that heroines swooning in novels was a bit heavy-handed and unrealistic but suddenly you felt as if you could keel right over at his admission. Your heart was racing in your chest and your stomach fluttered as you watched him. He still was avoiding your eye contact and with a sudden surge of bravery you reached out to place your hand on top of his that was resting on his thigh closest to you. The skin-on-skin contact made you gasp at the electric sensation.

“I care you for a great deal too,” you replied shyly, looking up at him from beneath your lashes as your cheeks burned.

His gaze finally snapped back to you at your words. His beautiful brown eyes were molten as they traced the lines of your face, as though he was cataloging and committing it to memory. Knowing him, he probably was.

After a long moment, he cleared his throat, then took a deep breath as though he was preparing himself for battle, "I would like to conduct an experiment,” His voice cracked slightly which was something you had never heard from him before. Tech was the definition of calm and collected, “If you are willing of course…”

A puzzled expression overtook your face as you looked at him, your curiosity was nearly overwhelming. He looked nervous.

“What did you have in mind?” You asked softly.

“I wish to replicate your novel.”

You honestly thought you might faint, your head felt as if it was about to drift off into the clouds. You briefly wondered if maybe you were the one who had taken too much pain medication. Or maybe that unidentifiable snack you had earlier was causing you to have hallucinations.

“You-you want to kiss me?” You finally managed to ask, your voice sounded as breathless as you felt.

“Very much so,” Tech said with a nod, his expression was completely serious.

“O-ok,” you managed to squeak which was all the encouragement he needed before he was angling himself towards you. His hand came up to gently cup your jaw and before you could even fully wrap your head around what was happening he was kissing you. Even in sitting, he was much taller than you and he had to duck his head to reach you. The angle was a bit awkward due to your side-by-side positions but that was quickly forgotten as he deepened the kiss. His lips were soft and gentle against your own at first but it didn’t take long before the kiss became more persistent as he drew you even closer. Your hand gripped the front of his shirt, anchoring you he gently nipped at your lower lip. Tech groaned softly, which was the greatest sound you had ever heard as you reciprocated, pressing yourself up into him as you devoured one another. You had never been kissed like this before. It was as if suddenly every nerve ending in your body had been woken up after years of being asleep.

You felt as if you might combust at any moment and your head was spinning. But suddenly Tech pulled away from you. You were unable to stop the soft moan of disappointment that escaped you as he did so. You felt as if all of the air had been sucked from your lungs as you watched him with wide eyes. His own chest was heaving slightly as he gazed at you, his eyes still molten as they seemed to focus on your lips.

“Hmm, fascinating,” He said softly after a moment, once his breathing had seemed to return to normal.

“What is?” You asked, suddenly feeling shy under the intensity of his gaze.

“Your lips are even softer than I hypothesized,” he said as he lifted his hand to cup your jaw once more, his thumb traced your cheek softly, sending shivers down your spine.

“What other things have you hypothesized?” You asked, smiling up at him as your heart continued to pound in your chest. He was going to be the death of you.

“I theorized that if I were to kiss you once I would then wish to never stop,” His voice was huskier than you had ever heard it before, “that theory has also been proven correct.”

“Well, I think that is acceptable,” You replied with a teasing smile, looking up at him once more from beneath your lashes, “Kiss me again, Tech.”

He didn’t need to be told twice.

You wanted desperately to get closer to him as he captured your lips with his own, but you knew that with his injured leg, your current position was the only one that wouldn’t cause him pain. Next time, you thought before you gasped in surprise as he parted your lips with his tongue. He moaned softly against you as his hand slid from your jaw to tangle in your hair. Kissing him was intoxicating.

A sudden noise in the hall had you both jumping apart. You both watched the door, chests heaving. But there was no further sound and no one burst through the door to bust you like you had been expecting. You suddenly giggled at the ridiculousness of it all, the fact that you suddenly felt like a horny teenager who couldn’t get enough of him, and how you had gone so long thinking he didn’t care for you when in fact it had been the exact opposite.

Tech’s cheeks were red when you looked back up at him but there was a wide smile on his face that warmed your heart. You didn’t think you had ever seen him smile like that before. This truly was a day of firsts.

“Was my kissing sufficient?” He asked you earnestly which only made you giggle again.

You grabbed his hand, interlocking your fingers as you smiled up at him, “More than sufficient."

His face flushed further as he lifted your joint hands to place a soft kiss on your knuckles, “Thank you for keeping me company today.”

“Anytime,” You replied sincerely before you shifted, leaning back against the wall once more before you tilted your head to rest on his shoulder. Tech seemed to tense momentarily at your proximity before he completely relaxed, leaning further into you. He let your hands fall, still intertwined into his lap.

This had not been what you had in mind when Hunter had made the request of you to keep an eye on Tech earlier. But you couldn’t help but think, as Tech’s head tilted to rest against your own as the two of you settled into comfortable silence once more, that this was far better than anything you could have imagined.

#Tech #tbb tech #tech x reader #tech x fem!reader #the bad batch x reader #the bad batch x fem!reader #tbb x reader #tbb x fem!reader #star wars fanfiction

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