#I need to live closer to the ocean so badly

[raeathnos]

Did some exploring along Delaware’s coast yesterday!

[magics-neptunes-things]

Baby Sister

Hi guys!

This one is from resquets, lot of them actually. I hope you will enjoy this ficlet :)

TW : Jealousy, secret relationship, Reader is Jenni Hermoso's little sister.

PART 2 IS HERE!

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Being Jenni Hermoso’s little sister has always been a great pride for you. You wear your last name with great happiness and you have always attended all the matches you could see. You have never missed any of his important matches, whether with the Barça team or the Spanish national team. This summer, you even made the trip to attend each stage of the competition, until seeing her lift the trophy at the finale.

What happened after and around this victory, you’d rather not talk about. This story makes you green with rage and you sincerely believe that if you had faced these men at the end of the summer, things would have gone very badly.

Jenni now playing in Mexico, it’s obviously harder for you to go and see her play. You watch her evolve on the other side of the ocean thanks to VPN, what you find ridiculous, it’s your sister for God’s sake.

But you’ve been used to long distance relationships for a while now. Because your girlfriend doesn’t happen to live in Barcelona either. Leila has been playing for Manchester City since the summer of 2022, a few months after you two started dating. The long-distance relationship is clearly not something easy to manage, but your reunions are incredible every time. Now that Jenni is no longer in Barcelona, it’s easier for you to fly to Leila for a weekend in Manchester.

Yes, because Jenni obviously doesn’t know that you’re in a relationship with one of her friends. Former colleagues at Barça and in the Spanish national team, there is no need to draw a picture to know how you met. It took some time for you to get closer, you were long persuaded that Leila only saw you as Jenni’s little sister. Baby Hermoso, like most of Jenni’s teammates like to call you.

It’s not a nickname that bothers you, you know it’s affectionate and again it’s not something pejorative for you to be compared to your sister. You love her. Even though she tends to be very protective of you, scaring away all your girlfriends pretty quickly. No one is good enough for you in her eyes and even if you know that her goal is to protect you and to avoid the mistakes that she made herself, you must admit that it’s for this reason that Leila and you decided to remain hidden.

Lying or hiding things from Jenni is really not easy for you. You are used to telling her everything and you have sometimes picked yourself up at the last moment when you want to tell her an anecdote about something you saw or did with Leila. Luckily, you didn’t make any missteps in a year and a half, almost two years.

But the secret is starting to weigh you more and more. Being away from the two most important women in your life is difficult for you and you regularly find yourself with lower morale than usual. When Jenni asks you about it, you just tell her you miss her. Which is true, but not totally. It’s easier for you to talk about it with Leila, even if you don’t want to impose your moods on her.

With Christmas coming, Leila is back in Barcelona, just like your big sister. You managed to establish a schedule in the rules of the art, juggling between family meals and stolen moments with your girlfriend. You even managed to set up an afternoon with Ona, Leila and other friends you have in common. You even asked Alba Putellas to join you, but she already had something planned.

So, when Ona and her brother went back to their parents, Leila offered to take you home, which you obviously accepted. Except she stayed at your place to end the night between lovers, catching up on all the kisses, hugs and love whispers you’re late for. You could spend hours with Leila, hidden under your sheets, exchanging confessions between two kisses.

********

It was between Christmas and New Year’s that Jenni asked you to have lunch and an afternoon with her. If her proposal obviously excited you, you found yourself hesitating when she told you she wanted to invite Leila to join you. It’s been a while since they met again and Leila apparently misses her. And since you two are getting along, Jenni thought it was a good idea to bring people together.

If only she knew how well you two get along…

From the exchange of messages that you had with Leila to talk about this, you realized that the situation seems to amuse your girlfriend more than anything else. It helped you see things in a different light. Maybe there’s no reason to worry, after all?

You’re the last arrived in the restaurant Jenni picked, both brunettes already sitting at a table. You have no trouble spotting them, it would have been difficult to do it anyway with Jenni’s great gestures. You approach Leila to hug her, giving her a stern look when her hand is dangerously low on your hip. Then you put a kiss on your sister’s cheek, which makes you sit next to her before grabbing a lock of your hair.

"Since when do you have red streaks?" laughs your sister

You shrug your shoulders and get rid of your jacket to place it on the back of your chair. The facility is already pretty full and people don’t seem to pay too much attention to your table. A good thing for you.

"Since yesterday"

"It suits her well I think"

Jenni looks at you for a few more seconds before smiling and nodding. Just like her, you have very dark hair, but your eyes are more on gray than on brown like those of Jenni. When you turn your attention to Leila, she winks at you and you find yourself blushing slightly while smiling.

The discussion between the three of you goes rather well in the end and after you go to choose tapas, you relax completely. The laughter burst and you spend a pleasant moment with the two brunettes.

Between two tapas, you grab your phone to open whatsapp and show a message from your mother to Jenni to show that you are right about something. Honestly, you can’t even say why it was, as the subject is quickly forgot when another conversation seems to have caught your big sister’s eye.

"Who is the lion?"

"What?"

You’re trying to quickly put your phone in your jacket pocket, because you know exactly what Jenni is talking about. Instead of saving Leila’s full name, you inserted a lion emoji and an emoji with a burning heart next to it. You find it cuter and it saves you a little today. But not as much as you would have liked.

No doubt thanks to her reflexes worked during training, Jenni managed to grab your phone before you put it away, hurrying to change her hand to get away from you.

"Jenni give it back to me" you half get up and try to take it back.

In front of you two, Leila looks at you with big eyes, without really knowing what to do. Luckily you never call yourself by your first names. And luckily too, you tend to send yourself photos through other apps.

"I miss you, I can’t wait to find you" starts reading Jenni out loud, frowning. "I count the days before I see you again… Who is this girl?"

When Jenni turns to you, you manage to take the phone out of her hands and put it away from her. Your cheeks are so red we could probably bake eggs on them.

"No one" you grunt carrying your glass to your lips.

"Well if that’s nobody, I don’t dare imagine what the messages with your girlfriend are" laughs Leila.

You almost strangle yourself with your drink and Jenni doesn’t seem to blame you to the point of letting you die on the spot since she gives you little pats on the back. On the other hand, you shoot your girlfriend with the look by seeing her drive the nail.

"Do you have a girlfriend?" asks Jenni, eyebrows still frowned.

You sigh softly and hesitate a split second before answering. After all, she doesn’t need to know who it is, right?

"Yes" you simply answer, giving her a look of challenge.

Jenni supports your gaze, obviously, and you feel the questions swirling through her head. You don’t know what you’ll get first.

"Why didn’t you tell me?" your older sister asks.

"Because you drove away all the last ones I’ve been with" you answer, rolling your eyes.

"Oh right away the big words…" sighs Jenni, even if her amused smile proves her guilt.

A few seconds pass and you naively hope that this will be enough for Jenni as information for the moment. Maybe the fact that you’re with Leila will hold her back from pushing things too hard and getting other information out of you.

"How is she?"

It’s Leila’s voice which resounds however and you return once again a dismayed look in her direction. She’s supposed to help you, not the other way around. However, when you answer that it’s not her business, Jenni insists by asking you the question in turn.

"She is kind, she is attentive and understanding" you end up answering, a deeply upset look displayed on the face.

"Is she pretty?" asks Leila

"Obviously" you snort.

In front of you, Leila seems to be having a great time. And if you think that you may laugh about it later, currently you can’t help but think that you intend to make her pay for it later.

"Is she a good kisser?" continues Leila.

"Wow no, I don’t want to hear the answer to that question" Jenni steps in with one hand up. "I can’t believe it, you’re still a baby."

You roll your eyes sighing, hearing the moan in the voice of your big sister. You’re almost eight years apart, but she sometimes has a hard time forgetting that you’ve been fifteen almost ten years ago.

"I’m 25, Jenni" you point out, but this information seems to fall on deaf ears.

"Wait, is that the girl from your job here? Aida?"

"Who is Aida?" asks Leila

This time, the fun left your girlfriend’s voice and face. This makes you shudder from the inside, the main flaw of the brunette being undoubtedly her jealousy. This has already highlighted some tensions between you, but you have always been able to communicate in order to avoid too much conflict.

"It’s nobody" you respond quickly to Leila, to whom you have already mentioned her existence, you are almost sure of it. "And no, it’s not Aida. Can we change the subject now, please?"

Groaning in her beard, Jenni finally accepts your request, even if she specifies that you pay nothing to wait. You roll your eyes again and peck the last crumbs on your plate while Jenni apologizes to go to the toilet.

As soon as she has her heels turned, you feel Leila leaning in your direction.

"Who’s Aida?" asks the brunette again.

You sigh softly and shift your attention to Leila. You’re relieved that your sister went to the bathroom quickly after that, or you know that your girlfriend would have had her blood blown out until you two were alone.

"One of my colleagues Babe, I already told you about it" you answer in a low voice, leaning mechanically too in her direction.

Leila answers nothing, content to look at you at length with her black eyes, arms crossed on her chest. She’s too far away for you to catch her hand, so you try to keep eye contact with her.

"Leila stop, we already discussed it. You have no reason to be jealous"

A few seconds pass during which Leila seems to pass you to the X-ray using her eyes. Time seems to last you a little too long, you end up arching an eyebrow in her direction.

"And excuse me, but if one of them should be jealous, it’s me. You’re the one who’s tactile with all your friends and you’re the one who’s got edits of your person on TikTok. Not me."

You see Leila’s face relaxing under the effect of her surprise. You’ve never mentioned these two things until now and this may not be the best time to do so since your older sister was reappearing next to you two. She seems surprised by your two sulky faces and your similar position, your arms crossed on your chests.

"Uh… is everything okay?" she asks while sitting next to you.

You nod your head while Leila just grunts for a simple answer.

"I have to go." You suddenly decide "See you before you go, right?"

Jenni answers yes, probably a little surprised by your quick departure. She stands up in turn to put a kiss on your cheek and take you in her arms.

"Do you need a ride? Where are you going?"

You know perfectly well that Leila’s question is not innocent but on the other hand the kindness and helpfulness of the brunette alone could explain the proposal. But, on your side, if you had to describe yourself in one flaw, it’s impulsivity. You prefer to talk about spontaneity, but that’s why you find yourself answering her sarcastically

"Seeing Aida, what else?"

The flash of anger and jealousy passing through Leila’s face is very fast, but visible to you. And apparently to Jenni as well.

Still standing, Jenni lets go of a surprise exclamation before pointing at Leila.

"It’s you!"

"Huh?" Leila replies, turning to Jenni, having forgotten for a split second her presence.

"The lion and the burning heart! It’s you!"

"She puts a burning heart next to the lion?"

Leila’s question makes you hit your forehead with your hand. It’s a disaster. She could have responded positively to Jenni’s question that it would have come back to the same thing.

Your sister remains silent for a long time, her gaze passing from Leila to you many times. She opens her mouth several times before finally finding the words that dare to suit her. For your part, your heart rate is so high that you wonder if your heart is not trying to come out of your chest.

"Why didn’t you tell me before?"

You sigh softly, leaning against the bench on which Leila is installed.

"I told you. You traumatized all my last girlfriends Jenni, I’m sure some of them even changed countries after you finished talking to them. I didn’t want this to happen this time."

You feel Leila’s gaze rise on you, you have after all just confided that this relationship is important to you.

"Your ex-girlfriends were selfish first-league idiots" grumbled Jenni rolling her eyes at her turn. "I know Leila isn’t"

You pout a little before shrugging. You’re not sure that if she hadn’t faced the fact her reaction would have been the same. If you had told her about your relationship with Leila when it took place, you are convinced that things would have been different.

"How long has it been?" keeps asking Jenni.

"A year and a half" answers Leila for you.

The information seems to surprise your sister as she bows her eyebrows at you. You mumble an excuse and shrug.

"Well, it doesn’t look like I have a something to say anyway" sighs Jenni as Leila pulls you by the arm to make you sit next to her.

You let yourself be willingly, the revelations of the last minutes making you forget that you managed to argue while Jenni went to the toilet. Jenni sits down again, looking at you carefully, before pointing again at Leila.

"You’re my friend Leila. But I swear to God, if you hurt her, you’re still six feet under."

[imwetforyourmom]

lights gone

you ran across the beach, the wet sand attempting to sink your feet in—yet your rushed footsteps beat it. panicked breathing flowed in and out of your lungs, everything was crashing down at once.

your chest felt hallow, as you got closer to the oh so familiar lighthouse, where memories of your and matt’s shared laughter echoed throughout, where the sloppy noises of lips smacking against eachother was and where.. just, where your and matts situationship lived.

he’d been the only man in your life who’d treated you like you actually mattered, like he actually liked loved you. you didnt want this to end, but it had to. he was the only man that actually treated you as someone he was interested in and not just for sex.

“this isnt fair, this isnt fucking fair.” your shaky voice rung throughout the lighthouse as you opened and closed the door behind you. you blinked back the tears that threatened to flow, to flow and only make you feel worse.

you walked up the stairs to where matt was—the highest level where he watched the ocean, watched the waves crash down onto one another, the air fogged and the wind aggressively pushing and shoving, announcing its presence.

“matt- I- I need to talk to you” you spoke, taking your turn from the wind to announce your own presence, your fingers fidgeting with eachother, your nerves taking over.

your familar voice warmed matt, a small grin forming on his face. he turned around to look at you, ready to see your overbearing grin and and fidgety hands (that were fidgeting cause you were so full with happiness), yet when he saw your appearance his grin died down to an unsure, small smile.

he stood from his chair, making his way over to you, the clicking of his boots thumming against the wood mirroring the same thrumming of your heart against your ribcage.

“whats wrong sweetheart?” he asked, his eyes trailing your face to capture more of your distressedness, to see what the cause of it was.

“I-“—you couldnt look at him while saying it, so instead you threw yourself in his arms, wrapping your arms around his torso and shoving your face into the nape of his neck, where your shaky, muffled voice continued—“I have to leave, matty, and I cant come back.” you revealed what the cause of your distressedness was.

matts arms returned the same wrap around you, holding you in his comforting body heat, warming your shivering frame. his hands rubbed your back assuringly.

he took a small breath in, to calm his own composure from crying, he didnt want you to hear his vulnerabilty. “y/n, baby, its okay- you’re okay, im okay, we’re gonna be okay.” he mumbled into your hair, trying his best to comfort you with his words.

“but its not okay, matt! I love you, and I cant see you anymore!” a sob ripped from your throat, you wanted the first time you tell him you love him to be special, but it wasnt anywhere near special and it probably never would be.

matt knew long before you did that you’d leave after summer was nearing an end, he knew but refused to believe it. he didnt want his special girl leaving him.

“dont do that to yourself, sweetheart, dont say those words.” his own words took a toll on him, how badly he wanted to return them, yet he didnt want to hurt you even more, knowing that you shared feelings, but couldnt pursue them.

your stomach crumbled with rejection, and even more tears and sobs flowed from your throat and eyes, your tears imiatading the largeness of the ocean and how persistent it was with the water, the water holding such great amounts of sadness, one couldnt dare put themselves in its place, yet you had no choice but to experience it.

@luverboychris @chrissturniolosfavoritesexdoll @meg-sturniolo @junnniiieee07 @mels22lunchbox @ssilentzom @b2cute @livvy4realll @graysturns @wh0resstuff @mattsmad @sturn-bugz @e1ias3 @sunsetsturniolos @strniolo @sturnssmuts @simply-a-simper @stunza @meerkatzthings @joemamaaa42069 @norr1ssturni0lo

@maryx2xx @mattsmad @dollyspsychoxo @mels22lunchbox @riasturns @chrissturniolosworld @ariqolyx @dollyspsychoxo

@aliceloveschris @starsturni

[flying-nightwing]

If I May (pt. 1)

Fuck it, Pride & Prejudice AU

This was hastily written while I was up in my feelings after re-re-re(x5) watching the movie (2005) because I needed a Mr. Darcy-esque Jason fic or i would have died. This is therefore extremely self indulgent. I'm also very rusty so forgive me if some parts aren't smooth. Expect a part 2 soon. And as always, enjoy!

Pairing: Jason Todd x f!reader

Word count: 3705

Warnings: none

Summary: You are a merchant's daughter who's trying to live a decent life, even if it means forsaking your own happiness. However, one short meeting with a stranger on a balcony sets you on another path, and you're not sure how to feel about it.

Gold light, marble floors. 

Violin, harpsichord, laughter. 

Sapphire eyes and mahogany hair, a blur of diamonds and pearls. A hundred feet dancing and twirling to the melody, the rustle of fabrics moving along with them to create colors and shapes out of a dream.

A night that seemed to never end. 

Your corset was too tight. You curtsied your partner as the music came to an end, excusing yourself for a moment. You had to get out of that crowd, to get away from the man in front of you. You made your way toward the balcony, your pushing becoming less and less ceremonious as you went. Your breathing was shallow yet couldn't be fast enough as gloved hands rose in indignation at your less than ladylike behaviour. 

Hadn't you reached the glass door when you did, you believed you would have cried. The sudden cool air allowed you to take a deep breath as you threw yourself forward, holding your hands out on the rail to catch yourself. You closed your eyes and took a moment to gather yourself, then turned around and gently closed the door, effectively muffling the new song that started with a roaring cheer from the crowd. 

Slowly, you returned to the rail and guided your stare to the night. The sky was clear and the stars were bright, but it didn't ease your mind like it always did. 

It was all wrong. 

Everything was wrong.

Your father passing away, your step brother giving you an ultimatum to marry this season or join the Sisters, as he had no intention to keep you on his newly inherited estate, your mother who was still sickly and bed ridden. 

You weren't poor by any means, but you weren't a part of the high society either. Your status was decent, and your name was respected enough to earn a good match. But with your father's unexpected passing and your step brother's petulance, you came with a bed ridden old woman to take with you, and that displeased many of the potential marriage candidates for you. 

So when one began courting you with the full knowledge of your situation, as in, knowing your mother would move with you to his estate, you didn't resist. You reciprocated the courting, and danced with the man at every ball, and walked with him in the gardens. He wasn't particularly beautiful, he was a bit on the older side, and his interest appeared to be lying in the fact that he had resigned himself to settle, to marry the least ugly woman with the least trouble following her. 

But he was also from decent money, with a respectable name and estate, and he most likely wouldn't treat you badly, which is more than you could have hoped for in such short notice. 

“Penny for your thoughts?”

You practically jumped out of your skin at the voice coming from behind you. With a shriek of terror, you slapped a hand on your chest and spun around, your eyes stopping on the stranger that seemingly appeared out of thi  air on the balcony with you. He held up his hands in front of him while his mouth curved in a cryptical smirk.

“Easy there, forgive me for scaring you” He spoke as he slowly stepped forward. As he came closer and into the light, you took in his features. His voice had been low and smooth, perfectly fitting his strong jaw and black hair, you decided. He was quite young, around your age if you had to guess, but his ocean blue eyes reflected a wisdom well past his age. They were hypnotic, you also concluded as you forced yourself to look away before drowning in them. You cleared your throat. “Running away from the party?”

You blinked rapidly at his words as they brought you back to Earth. “Well, just–Not running away, it's a lovely ball–”

Your mouth kept going on its own. You had no idea who that man was, or what was his relation with the family who hosted the ball. You didn't want to accidentally insult him.

You felt your face heat up when you noticed the amusement dancing in his eyes, or the smile he was trying to hold back. Luckily, he spoke before you could babble anymore. 

“It's fine, I was running away from it too” He supplied as he went to stand by the rail beside you, no doubt aware of your eyes on him. “Dreadful affairs”

You let out a quiet breath, glad you wouldn’t be judged for wanting a break. “I don’t find them to be so bad… Usually”

His scoff was half hearted. “Some pretty boy broke your heart?”

You knew he was saying this as a joke, his relaxed posture and humorous tone said as much. Still, it stung a nerve you didn’t even know was sensitive. It reminded you that you’d never get to experience the regular courting, the regular game of yes-no-maybe the other girls your age would go through. You were aware it was a strange thing to wish for–drama and heartbreaks that is–but simply knowing you were robbed of it made you sad. 

He definitely noticed your shift of attitude, because his good mood dropped into concern. “Wait, some pretty boy did break your heart?”

You shook your head. “No, no not that” You hesitated before speaking, but he patiently waited for you to do so, so you went for it. After all, you had never seen this mysterious, handsome man before, and you’d probably never see him again. You took a deep breath and turned to face the stars. “My father died in the winter. My mom has been sick for a year now. And when my step brother inherited the estate, he told me that I had until the end of the season to marry and take my mother with me”

He frowned. “My condolences” He said, eyeing you carefully. “But I believe someone looking like you shouldn’t have trouble finding a good husband”

You laughed humorlessly. “You’d think that, wouldn’t you” You mumbled as you glanced up for a second. He seemed confused. “I am on the lower side of my social class. My step brother will not give a dime for the wedding. I come tied with a sick mother. I could be the most beautiful thing in the world and I would still be a prospect for desperate men and old widowers”

He waited for a moment before speaking. “And you know this because you have one, don’t you?”

You nodded slowly. 

“I’m sorry”

“What for?” You tilted your head. “You’ve had no part in it”

His eyes found you and you glanced back, looking at his partially shadowed face. For a moment you could let yourself daydream that he was the one who’d propose to you in the upcoming weeks, that he would bring you in his kingdom far away from your step brother and this miserable marriage that would await for you. But then, you had to return to reality and forget your little fantasy. This man wasn’t yours to claim. 

“I’m sorry that you won’t be able to live your life the way you desire” He said, seeming more genuine than anyone you’ve ever met. “Everybody deserves a chance at happiness. I hope you may still find it despite of everything”

You tore your eyes from him as your vision blurred, as you did not want to let the stranger see your tears. You hastily wiped them off, and when you looked to where he stood again, he was gone. You glanced around, searching for any trace that he hadn’t just in your imagination, but the stranger was nowhere to be seen. You blinked, returning your eyes to the stars for a minute. You recomposed yourself and smothered your dress, then returned to the ball. 

—

“I still can’t believe we got an invite” You said as the carriage crossed a stone bridge. The sun was going down and the countryside looked positively marvelous.

Your step brother scoffed at your words, like they were a ridiculous claim. “Of course we did. The Duke obviously recognizes the importance of my business. Now that I’m in charge, I have made much better decisions than the old man, and it’s blooming like never before. In no time, I’ll become a proper lord, a baron. Or even a viscount”

You bit your tongue not to answer that it was your father who built the business, your father who made the right decisions years ago, your father that allowed him to reap the fruit of his labour. “I’m sure he does, and I’m sure you will”

“By the way” He eyed you cryptically, ignoring your lack of enthusiasm. “Has Mr. Degras shown signs he would propose soon?”

You opted to look outside instead of meeting his eyes. “Yes. The marriage is pretty much certain, as he is not courting anyone else and neither am I. But I think he’ll wait until just past midseason to actually propose, not to suggest anything untoward about the whole affair”

He hummed, disinterested. “Yes, well, the sooner the wedding, the better. Wouldn’t you say?”

“I would” Your reply came mechanically. You did not especially look forward to your marriage, but moving far, far away from the man in front of you did sound appealing right at this moment. 

“Good” 

The scenery quickly changed and you couldn’t be bothered to listen to your brother ramble about his business. A manor greater than anything you’ve seen before appeared through the neatly trimmed trees of the property, and you gasped at the sight. There were many other carriages, all much more grand than yours. 

No sooner than later, you pulled to the entrance. A valet opened the carriage door, and your step brother all but pushed you back on the seat to get out first. With a muffled oof, you pulled yourself straight again and followed your step brother out. The valet offered a hand and an apologetic glance, helping you step down on the gravel. You returned a smile to him, following your step brother from afar.

If the outside was grandiose, then the inside of the manor was totally mind blowing. You couldn’t help but gawk in awe at the details on the structure, and the intricate decoration. YOu barely noticed the crowd chattering along the foyer. You however began questioning the reason for your invite the more you explored the manor. It didn’t take an idiot to see that the people around you were draped in visibly more expensive fabrics, and their behaviour was distinct from the ones you were used to. Your suspicions that you hardly belonged there were only confirmed when you stepped in the grand ballroom, where literally none of the other families of your status were present at all.

Then, you saw it. Or rather, you saw him.

The Duke was standing proudly at the front of the room. His black and yellow-gold coat striking out from the crowd, but not as much as his sharp features. But he wasn’t what caught your attention, probably unlike anybody else present. It was the stoic face of his tallest child beside him, head high and shoulders square, glance forward and unmoving. On his dark red coat were multiple military decorations, and on his face, multiple scars the night’s darkness did not reveal the first and last time you met. 

Your jaw involuntarily hung open at the realization. The handsome stranger you laid all your afflictions upon just a few weeks earlier was in fact the son of the most powerful individual in the country that wasn’t a King. You felt your neck and chest heat up in embarrassment at the only thought of airing out your problems to someone like him. You knew the stories of his military service, the alleged torture and the constant brushes with death, everybody in the country had heard them. Your struggles in comparison were jest, and you felt like a whiny child to have complained about them to him specifically. 

His watchful eyes then settled onto you, betraying absolutely no feeling of recognition whatsoever, and you’d believe he didn’t recognize you at all if it hadn’t been for the slight tilt of his head, acknowledging your presence. You blinked and looked anywhere but to him, then blended in the crowd. Even then, you felt like you couldn’t if you tried. You felt gazes and whispers falling upon you, wondering who you were and what you were even doing in such a ball. No matter where you went, you couldn’t escape them. 

You finally decided on joining the dancers, believing it would help shift the attention off of you. You danced one song, then another with gentlemen that didn’t stand out to you; which was preferable for you. Unfortunately, your peace didn’t last very long. Because when you looked up to your next partner for the third dance, you came face to face with a distinct black and gold who was already bowing before you could escape. Your spine went rigid as your wide eyes met his steady ones, and before you could blink, a pleasant smile wrote over his previously stern expression. You didn’t know which one terrified you the most

The music began and he bowed to you, and you hurried to return a curtsy. You felt practically everyone stare on you as you took the first steps of the dance, carefully spinning around each other. He was the first to speak.

“I must apologize for my son’s poor manners” He said, and your eyebrows raised in half panic. What did he mean by– “He was the one to insist on inviting you and grace us with your lovely presence. He should have been the one to dance with you the first moment you stepped on the floor, but unfortunately, he is rather… stubborn, I’m afraid”

You did not know how to answer this, your jaw going up and down without any sound coming out. A small frown came over his brow, but it wasn’t deep enough to cover the light amusement of his features. 

“Ah” He replied, a knowing sparkle in his eyes. “He did not tell you about it, did he?”

“I knew nothing of the sort” You confirmed in a small voice. “4I am truly sorry to intrude, I know I am not part of the nobility–”

“Please, do not apologize” He gently cut you off. “You were invited, were you not? Therefore no intrusion whatsoever was committed. And between you and I,” He paused, leaning a bit forward as the dance steps brought you respectfully close. “I would be willing to bet your specific presence is much more wanted than anyone else's here tonight”

There you went, speechless once again. The dance finished, and with a respectful bow, the Duke parted ways with you to return to the front of the room, where a figure in red was definitely missing. You looked around the room, but didn't find your stranger anywhere. That until, you went to step away from the floor and collided with a strong, red coated chest. Your eyes followed the buttons up to find his jaw clenched hard and his eyes still fixated on a point beyond your shoulder. 

Mechanically, his hand lifted up. “May I have the next dance?”

You looked around you as a hush fell over the room, and you deducted it was a rare occurrence for the young lord to dance if everybody was staring at you in disbelief. Not wanting to cause more of a scene, you managed to find your voice. “You may”

Carefully, you placed your hand in his and let him guide you back to the middle of the room. His bow to you was stiff and uncomfortable, but his steps were light and precise, practiced and repeated until it became a second nature. Yet, his expression was displaying something far from ease. 

“For someone who thinks balls are dreadful, I must point out that twice i’ve met you, and twice it was at a ball”

A tiny scoff shook his shoulders, but not his stoic expression. “Both times out of absolute obligation, I assure you”

“You were more chatty last time” 

“Merely an effect of a glass too many of red wine”

That was no way to speak to someone of his status, but he didn’t seem to have any intention to correct you.

“I didn’t know it was you”

He knew well what you meant. I didn’t know it was you that night. “That’s because I chose not to tell you”

“You must think this is hilarious” You muttered against your will, but it just had to come out. There was a rage suddenly boiling inside of you and it came up too quickly for you to effectively rein it back. “Having a merchant’s daughter spill her insignificant secrets to you, then invite her to a ball she very clearly doesn’t belong to, showing her everything she’ll be missing, then making sure everyone notices it too. Poor deluded girl gets a pity dance with the Duke and his son. Are you entertained enough, my lord? Or should I trip and humiliate myself just a little bit more?”

His eyes widened a little bit more with every word, leaving him with a frightened and wounded expression one would find on a scolded child. In this precise moment, neither the smooth, mysterious stranger on the balcony nor the stoic soldier was staring back at you. You almost didn’t notice when the song ended, but you didn’t miss your opportunity to storm away, pushing past the crowd and trying your best to ignore their whispers on your way out. 

After a few flights of stairs, you finally found a way out in the gardens. The fresh air was like a breath of relief, and the soothing cool of the air was welcomed on your skin. You walked until you found a pond and sat on the bench, glaring at the reflection of the moonlight in the water. You spiralled deep in your thoughts, until you heard your name being called in an unfamiliar voice.

You jumped onto your feet and spun around, coming face to face with an elegantly dressed woman, her blonde hair beautifully cascading down her shoulders. You recognized her as one of the figures standing beside the Duke at the front of the room, but she didn’t have the air of arrogance you’d have expected her to bear. Instead, she seemed kind and confident, the type of person one wouldn’t mind sitting down with for tea and a good conversation. She smiled at your apparent wariness.

“May I sit with you?”

You nodded, then remembered she was probably also outranking you. “Yes, of course you may” 

You waited until she rounded the bench and sat down to sit back. For a few minutes, she didn’t talk, she just observed you. 

“You’re sure as pretty as I believed you’d be”

You blinked in surprise. Out of everything you believed she’d say, this was definitely not it. “... Thank you?”

Her smile widened, but she didn’t add anything on the matter. Instead, she jumped into the topic she was probably here for in the first place. “He upset you, didn’t he?”

Your eyes snapped forward and your back straightened. “Did he tell you to come and make it worse?”

Instead of being insulted at your dry rebuttal, she simply laughed and brushed her hand. “Not at all, the poor fool’s probably still standing frozen where you left him. Listen, I came after you to check up on you. He’ll be fine, but I wanted to see if you were”

Your eyes reluctantly found hers again. “Why?”

She sighed. “With all his lack of tact, Jason meant well. All he said to us is that you told him you enjoyed balls, and that you deserved a night for yourself. Neither I or the Duke knows anything beyond that. He might have been clumsy in handling it, but rest assured, mocking you was the last of his intention”

You heard all of what she said, but somehow, your brain got caught on one specific word. One specific name. “So, his name is Jason”

She tilted her head to the side. “You didn’t know?”

You shook your head. “We heard the stories, but nobody could agree on the right name” 

“Oh well, he is going to be pissed that I robbed him of his grand introduction, that’s certain” 

You couldn’t help but chuckle along with her at the absolute ridiculousness of your situation. You liked her, you decided, but just as your handsome stranger–no, Jason–you didn’t hope to get attached. Then, something came up in your head, making you frown.

“How do you know my name?” You asked. “In fact, how did anyone know my name? I never told him”

She smiled at you again, the glint in her eyes telling you there was a secret you definitely didn’t know about dangling about your head. Come to think of it, it was the same as the one you had observed in both the Duke and his son’s eyes. “The Duke has his way”

“Okay?”

She shook her head and changed the subject. “Do you want to know a secret?”

Your eyes narrowed. “... Sure”

She leaned forward. “You were the only person who received an invite for tonight” She revealed, and before you could call out her lie, she beat you to it. “I swear it’s true. Everybody you saw tonight just assumed they were invited, because of their own vanity and self-importance. You, on the other hand, are the only person that was actually wanted here. Do with that information as you may, but please, don’t be too harsh on Jason. He really did mean well”

You nodded slowly, watching as she stood up. “Well, this has been a pleasure”

“Likewise” You mumbled back, staring at her expectantly. 

“Stephanie” She filled in. “Stephanie Brown”

“Have a nice evening, miss Brown”

“Oh, I will” She grinned wolfishly. “Good night”

“You… too…” You watched as she walked away, leaving you to ponder this last conversation alone in the gardens.

[swissmissficrecs]

Johnlock fics I read in 2023

This is everything I read in the Sherlock Holmes fandom last year that made it into my bookmarks. So while I may not have read enough to make a selected "best of" list, consider these the ones that made it past all my internal selection criteria and are deserving of a spotlight. A few of these were completed prior to 2023.

A Case of You by Silvergirl (17K, M, Johnlock, Sherlock/OMC) Sherlock is marrying an American, and at the rehearsal dinner, best man John makes a drunken love confession he doesn’t remember the next day. Badly hungover, John can't find anyone to tell him what the hell happened to the wedding, where the grooms are, or how he can put it right so that Sherlock can be happy. But what if he's dead wrong about what will make Sherlock happy?

A Midnight Clear by khorazir (16K, T, Johnlock) It’s Christmas Eve, and Sherlock is working. Because that’s what he does. He doesn’t need Christmas, or holiday cheer, or even company. He’s fine on his own, thank you very much – until a series of strange encounters on his way back to Baker Street makes him reconsider.

A Story That Is Almost, But Not Quite, Entirely Unlike Blue Carbuncle by Iwantthatcoat (16K, M, Johnlock) It’s the most wonderful time of the year, and the Holmes Family is all set to have one of those unimaginable Christmas dinners— but the game is afoot, as Mummy’s friend is caught up in a Christmas mystery.

An Elegant Solution by ArwaMachine (19K, E, Johnlock) Sherlock finds himself unspeakably aroused by the idea of John with another man. Problem is, the only man Sherlock will permit be with John is Sherlock himself. Seems like an unsolvable problem. ... or is it?

An Ocean Away by westernredcedar (14K, T, Johnlock) Sherlock Holmes has been gone for twenty long years, time enough for John Watson's daughter to make it all the way to Harvard University.

Avast Ye Merry Gentlemen by StellaCartography (10K, E, Johnlock) Sherlock is not a Christmas person. John decides it's Christmas that needs changing.

Bright Blue Ink by 13_33 (13K, G, Johnlock, Warstan) When one of my patients asks me about my relationship with Sherlock Holmes, the great detective, I answer this: I am his chronicler, his assistant in solving crimes, his confidant and friend. Of course, all these terms hold true, now as then, at the beginning of our shared history. But just as in a family portrait you can only see the put-on smiles and never the real faces of the people, they were only part of what made up my true relationship with Holmes. I know him, I then add; I know him well. [ACD]

Deductive Reasoning by cormorant (8K, T, Johnlock) John finds out that Sherlock has assumed for a while that their relationship was romantic, and feels like maybe he should have been notified about that.

Doting Husbands by Calais_Reno (16K, M, Johnlock) Sherlock takes on a new hobby: writing a story. If only something would happen! Takes place a year after the ending of Wooing Sherlock Holmes. He and John have been married for a year, still retired, living in Sussex.

Full Mount by ArwaMachine (54K, E, Johnlock) After Sherlock unceremoniously returns from the dead, John finds himself inexplicably angry all the time. So he does what any emotionally-constipated British man does: he joins a Mixed Martial Arts gym. As John throws himself into the sport and joins in on underground no-holds-barred brawls, situations arise that just might force John to face what is really going on underneath all the rage.

Indefinite Lines by ArwaMachine (298K, E, Johnlock) When two lines, inclined towards each other, are extended indefinitely, it is inevitable that they meet. Upon meeting, the lines become something new. Together. Perhaps it’s been like that from the beginning for Sherlock and John—their lives weaving together, inclined towards one another, moving closer and closer to something greater than themselves.

Live from the Morgue by disfictional (8K, E, Johnlock) Molly interviews Sherlock on her podcast, Live from the Morgue. John listens.

Lost In A Good Book by khorazir (68K, M, Johnlock) After chasing a criminal into a poky second-hand bookshop, John and Sherlock find themselves not only stuck in the building, but in L-space itself. With things still raw and unsettled between them after the events surrounding the Culverton Smith case, this adds another dimension to their predicament, which not only consists of finding a way out of the shop (while avoiding getting murdered by the criminal), but also to finally address the issues between them.

Nightjet by khorazir (22K, M, Johnlock) Officially deceased for eighteen months and still looking for the last remainders of Moriarty’s criminal empire, an exhausted Sherlock boards a night train in Germany to bring him to his next hunting ground. Due to a mishap with the sleeper cars, he is forced to share a compartment with a stranger – who turns out to be not quite as strange as Sherlock thought. The universe isn’t lazy, after all …

Nothing to Celebrate by DiscordantWords (30K, M, Johnlock, Warstan) Sherlock Holmes is back from the dead. Things only get worse from there.

Our Ghosts And This by LipstickDaddy (12K, T, Johnlock) An epilogue in three acts.

Primavera by Berty (9K, T, Johnlock) Italy in the springtime is as romantic as it gets but is it enough to free unspoken words and feelings after years of silence?

Salut d'Amour by ecoutes (11K, G, Johnlock) Despite Holmes claiming that my narrations of our cases were tainted with sentimentality, his preferences in music, I learned, were awfully romantic. [ACD]

Spare Parts by Raina_at (63K, E, Johnlock) Two years ago, Sherlock Holmes jumped off the roof of New London Hospital. Two months ago, he walked into John's clinic as if no time had passed at all. John hasn't seen him since. But then Sherlock knocks on John's door with a case he can't say no to, and while figuring out why the biggest manufacturer or synthetic limbs in the System is going after veterans, they also need to find out whether there's a way to fix what's broken between them.

stirringofbirds between my arms by NotusLethe (18K, E, Johnlock, Enola/Tewksbury) Over the years, John Watson gets to know his new flatmate, Sherlock Holmes, and the man's clever ward. [Enola Holmes]

Stretch by illwick (13K, E, Johnlock) Sometimes the lines get blurry. [Part 35 of a BDSM established relationship series]

The Adventure of The Reluctant Docent by mydogwatson (23K, T, Johnlock) Someone is killing the docents of London. Sherlock is on the case when he meets a very interesting docent.

The Case of the Freudian Dick Pic Slip by expoduck (11K, E, Johnlock) John accidentally sends Sherlock a dick pic he'd intended for another man.

The Mystery of the Missing Metallurgist by rudbeckia (14K, M, Johnlock) A young wife engages Holmes to find her missing husband. Lestrade thinks the man has absconded to America, but Holmes rises to the challenge of Proving Lestrade Wrong. The case turns out to be far more complex and dangerous than they first thought, and Holmes sends Watson to secure Lestrade’s help in bringing a criminal gang to justice. When Holmes gets injured, Watson realises where his heart lies and a little lighthearted banter leads to a tentative confession. [ACD]

The Silence Between the Notes by J_Baillier (44K, M, Johnlock, Viclock) Lieutenant John Watson's days in London are painted in shades of grey after losing both his military career and his family. Could an unexpected request to travel to Vienna to track down the errant son of a wealthy family break the monotony?

The Wizard of Baker Street by Calais_Reno (23K, T, Johnlock) In which Sherlock is a wizard under a curse and John spends a lot of time as a cat.

‘tis the damn season by chrysanthemumsies (22K, E, Johnlock) Sherlock and John travel to Edinburgh to catch a homophobic serial killer in time for Christmas. They figure out how to use their words, more or less.

Trapezoid by SilentAuror (27K, E, Johnlock, OMC/ OMC) Corey Graham invites John and Sherlock to visit L.A. to consult on a project… at least, officially.

Yorkshire by lurikko (8K, E, Johnlock) They're in Yorkshire, in a house in the moors, for a case, only Sherlock keeps touching John. [Omegaverse]

[callsignthirsty]

Something to Remember Me By

Pairing: Tom "Iceman" Kazansky x F!Reader Summary: Following the graduates’ post-ceremony assignment, Ice becomes stuck in his head. What if Mav hadn’t reengaged? What if his life had ended somewhere up there, over the Indian Ocean? It was a risk of the job. It happened every day. It happened to Goose. Or, the one where the reality of his service hits Ice harder than he ever expected and he decides to give you something to remember him by. Word Count: 3600 Warnings: Smut with some feelings. Slight breeding kink(?) Minors DNI

Ice had been back in Miramar less than an hour and despite his best efforts, everyone knew something was off. He brushed off Hollywood and Wolf with a grin that he didn’t really feel as they’d tried to corral him toward the O Club for a well-deserved drink. Merlin had raised a brow but left it alone. Slider had been another story. The RIO was determined to give him a hard time — needing to get to the bar as badly as Ice needed to steer clear — and tried to convince him they all deserved it after their mission success.

Somehow, Mav had been the only one to understand. His wingman's smile effortless and understanding as he intercepted Slider and redirected his attention long enough for Ice to slip away. He wasn’t even sure where he was going, head still circling some 45,000 feet overhead. And that was how Ice found himself on your doorstep, running on fumes in service khakis long since wrinkled from his return trip and unable to do more than stare at the old knocker on your front door.

He’s been to your home countless times, but he isn’t sure that he should be there now. Like this.

A distant horn brings him back — knocks him just a little closer to the ground — and that’s a good start; otherwise, he may have spent the entire afternoon into dusk just staring. He raises his hand.

Shave and a haircut.

A minute goes by and he wonders if you’re even home. Takes half a step back before your footsteps are approaching from the other side of the door, for the porch light to turn on, then the door is swinging open.

You suck in a breath. “Tom?” You hadn’t been expecting visitors — he hadn’t called — and your voice is colored in equal parts relief and surprise at this unannounced return stateside.

“Can I come in?” He’s only said four words and your expression shifts, your relief short lived. You know, too. Can see the mess hiding behind his stiff stance and carefully schooled expression clear as day. But you still open the door wide enough to let him in.

"Do you want anything to drink?" you ask, already halfway to your kitchen to fetch a glass.

“Water.” He’s still moving on autopilot, sitting on your sofa and taking in your living room decorated sparingly except for a collection of photo frames that line a standard-issue cabinet: your siblings, your parents, your family. Ice’s attention returns to you as you hand him his water, but he sets it on the coffee table without any intention of actually drinking it.

Your eyes flick from the glass sweating in the San Diego summer to the coaster Ice has ignored. He’s sitting beside you, but his mind is still far away. The urge to wrap him in your arms is strong, but you resist. You aren’t sure that’s what he needs right now, so instead of holding him close or asking what’s on his mind, you give him time to organize his thoughts.

It takes a couple minutes or eternities for him to find the words. “We took down the hostiles.” He’s so far from his usual eloquence that he nearly winces, but if you notice, you don't mention it.

A gentle smile graces your lips. “I heard,” you choose to say instead. “You and Mav made it onto the front page of the paper.” And what a relief it had been, to see them again after their rushed exit from the graduation ceremony — smiling, shaking hands, alive. Sleep came easier to you, then. “It’s all Fightertown’s been able to talk about.”

Your words don’t settle Ice the way he’d have thought they would. The old springs of your sofa squeal as he shifts. “It wan’t,” he starts but loses steam. He tries again: “I…” And he knows you’re worried now because it isn’t often that he doesn’t have something to say.

But he feels every bit as cold and detached as his call sign suggests. Struggling to come up with a way to explain the fear that had taken over him. How could you ever understand?

He didn't want you to understand.

Barreling through the sky, pulling out all the tricks and still barely able to escape Death's glacial fingers. He and Slider and the wind howling against the canopy and the hostile on their tail. And he hadn't been able to shake them. He was the best of the best, but what had that meant up there? What if Mav hadn't reengaged? What if he hadn't banked right? The high-pitched whine of the missile lock forcing him into a cold sweat, the sour splash of bile rising in the back of his throat as the missile missed them by feet, and God, he hadn't been sick in a cockpit since flight training.

"Hey," you whisper, clasping Ice's hand in yours before bringing one up to cup his cheek. He leans into the touch, eyes fluttering closed as he tries to soak you in.

His breathing is irregular, a cold sweat beading his temples as he continues drifting out to sea. What if his life had ended somewhere over the Indian Ocean? It was a risk of the job. It happened every day.

It happened to Goose.

Ice takes a shaky breath, and his hand brings yours up to his lips, kissing the palm, then your wrist. Still silent. Still a prisoner in his own head. Missile lock ringing between his ears.

Goose had been with them one moment and gone the next. His wife, a widow. His best friend forever changed. But everyone who had loved Goose and been loved by him had something to remember him by in his son. Bradley. What would you have? Would the Defense Department even know to knock on your door? Would they give you anything to remember him by? The flag he'd flown under? Their regrets? His dog tags?

Ice brings your palm to his chest, rests it over his heart, and bluebird skies can't hold a candle to the clarity the simple touch brings him. The weight you lift from his shoulders simply by being. Existing in the same space and time as he is. A tremor runs up his spine, his jaw clenching as he tries to swallow, but his tongue has turned to sandpaper in his mouth.

"Mav saved my life," he admits, eyes locked on yours, and the truth is easier to say than he'd expected. It practically tumbles out. "We wouldn't've made it out of there without him. And…" The realization of what he needs hits him like he's pulling seven Gs, and it's so unexpected that he's dizzy with it. Ashamed of the thought and how it burns him up from the inside, unfurling and fanning until the hot licks of it have scorched his mind, and he struggles to find the words. So, instead, he pulls you into a barely-there kiss, and you go easily.

Ice loves you. He doesn't need to say it. You already know.

But it isn't enough.

Another kiss is laid on your lips, just as tender as the last. Ice knows he'll remember you — think of you with his dying breath whether he's shot out of the sky or goes up in flames. You're the closest Ice has ever come to flying with both his feet on the ground. But he needs more. It's selfish and all-consuming and desperate, and it swims through his veins like a poison until he’s sick with it. Because who is he? What had he done in this life? How could he ensure that a part of him was with you, no matter what? That you'd always have something to remember him by? The thought of leaving you alone in the world drives Ice nearly out of his mind.

His thumb caresses your cheek, then his hand is trailing down until it rests over your flat stomach. "I need you to remember me," he whispers, and this truth is so much harder to concede because he's terrified that it'll be the thing that finally pushes you away. Fear grips him tight around the chest, and his instincts are screaming, 'eject! eject!' so he can live to salvage what's left of his life after the crash, but then your eyes meet his, and Ice holds his breath.

Your eyes are softer than he's ever seen them. They're the eyes of someone who loves him deeply. Someone just as scared as he is, but of what he can't be sure of until your lips tug into a tender smile. "Yeah."

"Yeah?" And Ice is surprised that you're open to the idea because the topic of marriage hasn't even come up yet, and this is all so backward — so dangerous — but it feels so right as your hand joins his, the other cradling the sharp line of his jaw as you tilt him down to place a kiss on his forehead.

"Yeah." And you may have stunned him because it's you who has to initiate the next press of lips.

Your heart flutters low in your stomach as you pull away so you can take Ice's hand and lead him down the hall to the bedroom that is more his than the bed in his assignment has been in weeks. You press him back until his legs bump into the mattress and his arms wrap around you, pulling you close as you move to sit atop his lap. A breathy chuckle fills the space between your lips and he swallows it, your lashes drooping closed. Ice's lips are soft and strong, pressing yours open before pulling away, a clear invitation for you to follow and slot your mouth back against his.

He caresses your sides, hands skimming up and down, thumbs brushing over your hip bones as you sigh into each new, lingering kiss. A delicate brush of lips until you both need more. Because you're doing this.

You're giving this to him.

He'll never leave you alone again.

Ice's need flares. He eliminates the gap between your bodies with a hand on the back of your neck, wraps his arm around you tight, and vows to himself that he'll never let you go. And you're there for all of it: keening and tasting of spearmint and lemonade and the hot ocean breeze as your fingers tangle in blonde hair to urge him into a deeper kiss. He indulges.

As Ice licks into your mouth, your hands leave his scalp to help him out of his shirt — he's wearing entirely too much for what the both of you have planned.

Needy fingers pull at his shirt until it's been untucked, and when you finally force yourself from his lips to focus on the troublesome buttons, he swoops in to distract you with peppered kisses from the corner of your lips down to your neck. You gasp, fingers balling in polyester as he teases sensitive skin between his teeth, then push his shirt from his broad shoulders. Now the only thing between your fingers and the tanned skin of his chest is a white undershirt. You get to work on it immediately, rucking it up as Ice litters your neck with small bites. Your fingers slip beneath the hem, tingling as they land on smooth skin; the touch is electric, zinging straight from your fingertips to the apex of your legs, and you're so hot that you can't stop yourself from rolling your hips against his.

You feel his groan more than you hear it — deep and rumbling against your throat, his teeth working a dark bruise into your tender neck as he grinds up into you. Then, Ice is ripping the shirt over his head, and your eyes wander the miles of his tanned skin as his hands grip your hips and pull you against him again. “Did you miss me?” he asks, hips rolling, and your mouth falls open around a ‘yes’ before he takes them in another kiss. Regrettably, his hands don't linger long. Nimble, calloused fingers slip beneath your shirt, skimming along your side until they're brushing the smooth skin below your breasts, and you break the kiss to shiver.

Ever the opportunist, Ice lifts your shirt over your head, ducking to kiss your collarbone before his hand is splaying against the small of your back to bring your chests flush, the warm metal of his dog tags caught between the two of you, and you pull the chain to bring his lips back to yours with a contented sigh.

A hand moves to your thigh, thumb rubbing circles along the inside as his hand creeps higher until it's brushing beneath the leg of your loose shorts. “You’re so wet,” he groans, white teeth bared in a sharp smile and you suck in a quick breath as Ice parts your lips. “Is all this for me?” His fingers play with your juices, spreading them around until you're absolutely dripping, your legs shaking with the effort to stay still. You nod. “Out loud, sweetheart.”

“Yes,” you hiss, and Ice seals his lips over yours, finally slipping a finger into you, and he isn't sure if the moan he swallows belongs to you or not.

"Beautiful," he huffs, squeezes a second finger into you, and another sound escapes your kiss-swollen lips. "You're beautiful." Your heart swells with the compliment, fingers trailing down from where they've been clutching his shoulders until they snag on his belt. His fingers curl against your sweet spot, making it a challenge to pull the leather from its clasp, but once his belt is off, you pop the button on his khakis and drag the zipper down. You bite your lip and palm him through his boxer briefs until Ice brings his fingers, still slick with you, to his lips and moves to push you off his lap.

"Get on the bed."

Slipping from his lap, you settle on your back, head amongst the pillows so you can watch as Ice unlaces his boots and kicks them off with the rest of his clothes. He's beautiful like this. Body trained into hard lines, hair a mess, and eyes a damning blue. Cock bobbing heavy between his thighs, the head flushed a dusky pink. Your thighs clench in a desperate ploy for friction where you need it most. His knee is on the bed, then he crawls up — hands on either side of you as he kisses your calf up to your thigh, grabbing each leg behind your knees and opening you up to his hungry gaze. You jerk, head tipping back and an unabashed moan spilling from your lips when he licks a fat strip up your cunt.

“Tell me what you need,” he purrs, wetting his lips before he ignores the scratch of your nails in his hair and dives back in for another taste.

"Need you." It's an understatement. And fuck him sideways if that isn't the best thing he's heard all day. All week. With a deep breath, he takes you in from his spot between your thighs: hair wild, eyes blown wide, lips bitten and slick with his spit, cheeks an amorous red. He needs you, too.

"I've got you," he says as he acquiesces, drags himself the rest of the way up your body, and presses a filthy kiss to your lips, tongue tainted with the tang of your arousal.

A gentle hand rests on your lower abdomen once again. It's a moment he'll remember for the rest of his life. The most significant thing he's ever committed himself to. The only thing that matters anymore.

“You ready for me?” He’s cocky, but when he reaches for the bedside drawer out of habit, he freezes. His eyes soften a fraction. "Are you sure?" And he’s looking into your eyes but he hasn’t retracted his hand. He will if you say so. Because even though he needs this, he needs to know that you crave it just as badly. Needs to know that you're with him.

"Yeah." You caress his cheek, and he presses his forehead to yours so that you can breathe each other in. "I've never been more sure of anything," you confess, and his hand returns to the bed to hold you close. Before you can say anything embarrassing, you bring him into a kiss, your tongues rolling together slowly.

You whine when you feel him adjust to bring your hips together, the head of his cock pressed right where you want him most, and you can't help but roll your hips together. But Ice doesn't push in right away; instead, running his length through your soaked folds, and you whimper, pussy trembling because the friction is everything.

You're both a bit overwhelmed when he starts to sink into you — it's the first time you've been this close. No room to breathe. No latex.

A needy moan leaves Ice's lips, his eyes slipping shut and plush lips hanging open in ecstasy. "Perfect," he gasps, eyes opening to take in your hot cheeks and glassy eyes. "You're fucking perfect." And he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, nipping at it as he continues to rock into you until your hips are flush, and he has to take a minute or this will all be over before it's really begun.

You mouth at his clenched jaw, lick at the salty skin of his neck and dig your nails in between his shoulder blades. Your entire body is pulsing: heart pounding and blood roaring in your ears. It's unbearable having him completely seated and still inside you, so you wrap your legs around his hips, hoping to entice him into action. It has half the desired effect.

Ice shakes his head. Brows furrowed, he groans like he's toeing the fine line between pleasure and pain. "You're going to make me cum."

"I thought that was the point?" Your grin is lopsided, drunk on the moment, and you bite your bottom lip because you know it drives him mad. Ice keens, rutting his hips shallowly into you, and you encourage him with a lewd moan.

When he finally begins to move, it's all slow movements and breathy groans. His hips, fingers, and lips wringing pleasure out of each moment until you're both sweaty and gasping into each other's mouths.

Ice readjusts your legs so that they wrap higher up on his waist. “You want it, don’t you?” He sinks further into you and grinds against your sweet spot, the pull and push of his cock interrupted as a shudder wracks through him. Fuck, he wants it. He distracts himself, dipping his head to capture your nipple between his lips until you're arching into his mouth.

He grabs your hand, lacing your fingers by your head and kissing you with a flick of his tongue. You chase his lips when they leave yours and you’re trembling. “You going to cum for me?” he mumbles, his hips pressing into you and starting up another slow rhythm. His chest is pressed to yours, his dog tags resting between your breasts and his cheek brushing yours as he shifts like the tide to clap your hips together and continues directly into your ear — “Want to see you cum on my cock.” And your free hand clutches him closer with a whine, your head tossed back in a shameless cry.

“Come on, baby.” When Ice finally brings a hand to rub slow, firm circles into your clit, you’ve lost track of how long you’ve been like this.

"Tom," you rasp, lost to everything but the smell of jet fuel, sweat, and spearmint and the shift of Ice's muscles beneath impossibly smooth skin as his hips snap forward. "Oh fuck, there. Just like that."

“Gonna fill you up.” He's close, too. You can feel it in the way his hips fall out of their carefully maintained rhythm and see it in the wild glint in his eyes. You just need a little more, and it's like he can read your mind because — "Fucking Christ, Tom!" — with a wanton sob, you're there.

The shockwaves of your climax are still rippling through you as Ice snaps his hips once, twice, and lets out his own low groan. He spills into you, drawing out your highs, thrusting sloppily as you encourage him to keep going with your heels crossed against his lower back, enthusiastically milking him for every last drop.

Ice holds himself up on his forearms, panting as he licks into your mouth again, the inferno of his want reduced to embers. You hold him in your arms, running your hands over every bit of him within your reach as the tension drifts from your body, leaving you with a giddy, butterfly feeling in your stomach.

When he finally pulls out of you, Ice sits back and watches as pearly strings of his cum trickle from your still-throbbing pussy. He collects the excess with a finger and pushes it back into you, Adam's apple bobbing as your walls squeeze around him. When his eyes meet yours again, the fear is gone. So is the distance. He's finally home.

"You know," you say, legs falling apart as his eyes return to your cunt, "we'll probably have to do this a couple times."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." You nod, a coquettish smile on your lips. "I’ve heard it can take a couple tries."

Ice's smile is slow and easy, taking over his face. He's irresistible, so you don't even try. You pull him back down, a mirroring smile on your lips.

No one sees the Iceman at the O Club for a while.

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

Well I guess the oneshot did the trick, because I finished a chapter.

Still not exactly doing great, but this helps a little.

And this overdramatic SOB just makes me swoon a completely normal amount.

don't stare at the nipple don't stare at the nipple don't stare at the oh dear gods honestly how dare he

Hearing Problems

LA!Mihawk x OC

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Chapter 3: Solidarity

Trigger Warnings: Mild Suicidal Ideation

Wordcount: 2.4k

Tags: Slow-burn, Enemies to Lovers, eventually NSFW, uh, if I think of more I'll add them or something

People Tags: @mihawksdemoness also thank you for asking to be tagged like I am in awe thank you so much???

After having her sloop sunk by the Buggy Pirates and losing most of her worldly possessions in the process, the normally solitary mercenary Karimi Lionne finds herself teaming up with the rag-tag little crew that is the Strawhat Pirates to defeat them. She bonds with them far more quickly than she bargained for, and that quickly turns into a problem for the Kiku Kiku no Mi devil fruit user when she learns of Nami's plans to leave them high and dry, and Zoro issues a challenge at Baratie that he very likely won't live long enough to regret.

The stars were beautiful tonight, if nothing else.

Karimi did her best to focus her mind in on that, despite how they seemed to swim and swirl a bit in her vision, how her thoughts swam and swirled in her head.

How the image of his eyes seemed to have burned straight into her eyelids, to the point that she didn't want to do so much as blink.

How his words had burned into her ears, and she could still hear the threat behind them echoing around in her skull, hear his voice as clearly as if she were listening in on his thoughts at that very moment. Tomorrow, tomorrow morning, after the duel.

A heartbeat or a bloodied corpse.

Her own heartbeat raced into an absolute frenzy.

Part of her screamed loudly, so loudly that she could just slip herself right over the edge of the dock, to just slip into the chill of the ocean and sink down and never come up again.

She pulled her feet out of the water immediately, sitting straight up and wrapping her arms around her bended knees, shuddering the slightest bit.

His words. Not only his words, but his anger rang clear as day through her while she stared out at the night sky, out toward the horizon, wishing she could very far closer to it than to where she was right now.

There was every chance that she had just lessened Zoro's chances of survival rather than improve them.

She lowered her forehead to her knees. As the saltwater dripped away and her skin dried, the chatter of every person within a fifty food radius slowly began to raise in volume in her head. Closing her eyes a bit tighter, pulling her legs in closer to her chest, she bit her lip and focused.

Focused every ounce of her energy to making it stop.

Her own thoughts were too much right now, much less everyone else's.

And slowly—so slowly, but oh, so welcome, the silence came again. An audible sigh trembled its way through her lips.

Busoshoku haki. It wasn't fool-proof, but it worked when she needed it to. For the ten years she had spent with her grandmother, the older woman had employed it constantly to suppress Karimi's devil fruit abilities, but Karimi herself wasn't as proficient. She had less than two years of training in the art, from her time traveling with the Red Hair Pirates six years ago, and she couldn't do much with it except dampen her own abilities.

If she focused it in just behind her ears, focused it down to a pair of small points of energy and connected them together through her skull, then she had the sweet, sweet silence she so craved, that she could manage on her own on a day to day basis.

"So what did he have to say?"

The sound of Nami's voice, nearly monotone but with an edge of accusation to it, startled Karimi so badly that she nearly did slip off the dock.

"God dammit—"

Dear gods why couldn't everyone just leave her alone?

"Hey—!" Karimi grew instantly tense when she felt Nami's hand on her shoulder, steadying her before she could topple over. "Shit. Was it that bad?"

The accusatory note in her voice dropped away almost in an instant, and Karimi could only scoff, shaking her head. Her eyes briefly cut toward Nami when the younger girl took a seat beside her on the docks, looking at her in a mix of alarm and caution. "It wasn't great, no," she said shortly. Karimi shook her head, staring down at the gentle waves that rocked against the floating dock. She sighed, pressing her palm into one of her eyes against the sharp pain of a headache forming behind them. "You ever just want to...say the hell with it all and toss yourself in the ocean and be done?"

"Ah...yeah...." She noticed Nami reach around her and subtly pull the wine bottle away from her side. "Maybe we should just get back to Merry and—"

"I know what you're planning."

Nami froze in an instant at that, her eyes glued to Karimi's for a moment when she turned her head and looked over.

"I don't know what you're—"

"Don't bother," said Karimi, waving a dismissive hand, her voice still slurred. "You're leaving. And I get it. I would too in your shoes. If I could...." She swallowed. Exhaled a slow sigh that puffed out her cheeks slightly, looking at Nami, at how her brows furrowed. "I lost...everything ten years ago. My village. My friends. My...family." She shook her head. "I'd trade anything to have that back. So I get it. You'd trade everything too. But, look."

Nami froze when Karimi turned, reached out and put her hands on her shoulders, leveling her gaze with with hers.

"That—scrawny little shit back there in his silly little hat," she went on, nodding back toward the Merry, "I guarantee, if you go, he's going to chase you down, and he's going to do everything in his power to help whether you want him to or not, because that's what he does. So you need to think carefully about how you're going to proceed with this."

Nami stared at her for several long seconds, her eyes wide as saucers, her mouth hanging slightly open in shock.

And then she shoved Karimi's hands off of her shoulders, shifting away several inches. "How—how the hell do you—no." She shook her head, reaching down to her bag at her side. "No, why—" Karimi's eyes shifted down as Nami pulled an old, yellowed wanted poster out of her bag. "Why are you lying to everyone? Two billion berries?"

Karimi's gaze became glued to the wanted poster, and when she reached out to grab it, Nami pulled it back, holding it over her head.

"You think you can just, what, dye your hair a little darker, and no one's going to notice?" she said, raising her eyebrows. "Maybe the guys won't, but I'm not an idiot."

Karimi barely even heard her, her eyes glued to the paper flapping in the light breeze over their heads. She had kept that poster for the better part of eight years, kept it tucked away with her belongings, tucked under her pillow wherever she slept. She lowered her gaze, leveling her eyes with Nami's as she spoke through her teeth.

"Give. It. Back."

Nami's resolve faltered a little for a moment—but just long enough of a moment. Karimi was able to lash out her hand and grab the poster, pulling it to her chest and sighing slowly, her eyes slipping shut.

"Th...that's...not you?" she said slowly, and Karimi shook her head.

"It's my grandmother." She carefully folded the poster without looking at it again, slipping it into her pocket. "And it's the only picture I have of her." She glanced at Nami, trying hard, incredibly hard not to be mad at the girl as her gaze softened. "She was murdered right in front of me ten years ago."

"I..." She swallowed. "I'm...so sorry, I..." She shook her head. "You look...you could be her *twin*, I thought—" Once more, Nami shook her head, looking Karimi up and down quickly. "How do you know about my village?" she asked finally.

"I know a little about a lot of things." Karimi set to tugging her socks back on. "I...have a devil fruit ability. I can hear thoughts. I keep it suppressed the majority of the time because it would frankly drive me insane if I didn't, but..." She glanced at Nami, frowning apologetically. "When we fought with Kuro, I had to release it. I can't control what I hear. And your thoughts were a lot louder than anyone else's."

Nami swallowed, blinking several times. "You...can hear thoughts," she repeated quietly. Karimi shrugged a shoulder and gave a quick nod, pulling one if her boots back on now. "Th...that's..."

"Something that would have made you all a lot less likely to have me along had you known it off the rip," Karimi finished for her, sighing. Maybe not Luffy—it was incredibly likely he would have been in awe. "And for the record, I'm not using it right now. Shanks was able to help me learn to control it to some extent."

Nami nodded, standing with Karimi as she finished tugging her other boot on. "You...said your village was destroyed." She cut her eyes at Nami, taking her bottle of wine back when the orange-haired girl offered it to her. "Was it pirates?"

"Marines." She took a swig from the bottle, slinging an arm around Nami's shoulders. "There's good eggs and bad eggs in every batch. I don't like Marines on the whole, but there are a few exceptions. You don't like pirates," she went on as they crossed dock, "but I think you've seen enough to know that there are a few exceptions."

Karimi offered her the bottle of wine with a wry smile, and Nami took it, taking a drink from it. "Yeah," she agreed, staring up at the Merry as they stopped in front of it. "I guess there are."

Nami had to help her back onto the ship—she had definitely gone way too heavy on the drink tonight, something she rarely did and was sure she would be embarrassed about in the morning, but right now she didn't care. Right now, falling back into an empty hammock and tucking her hands behind her neck, all Karimi cared to give her time and attention to was the sweet release of sleep.

Hopefully a dreamless sleep, devoid of the annoyances and terrors of the waking world.

Hopefully devoid of her harebrained promise to serve a surly pirate warlord if he would leave an acquaintance she had met literal days ago alive.

Devoid of the heartbroken look on Luffy's face when he realized Nami was leaving—when he realized she was leaving.

Empty, dreamless, not a single thought of the face on the wanted poster she carried with her everywhere, the face she had watched break into desperate tears ten years ago, beg to let her granddaughter live, just let her live, she would give anything, she didn't care if they killed her—

Karimi's eyes snapped open.

And then they shut in an instant against the persistent and painful rays of the morning sun pouring throughtthe rounded window across from her.

As she did every morning, she started to focus, to employ her haki and drown out the mindless chatter in her head...and then she stopped.

She stooped as she heard the desperation, the horror outside the ship.

And she scrambled to her feet, stumbling out of the cabin to lean against the railing around the deck if the ship.

Just in time to watch Mihawk draw his sword from his back.

To watch him pull it down in a clean slash.

Watch Zoro fall to his knees and onto his back.

She sank down onto her own knees, exhaling a slow sigh, eyes wide and hands gripping at the railing around the deck. There, then, was her answer. There, in the form of one if her newest friends bleeding out in front of Baratie, clinging to the edge of life, certain to slip away at any moment.

"I hope you've already packed your things."

And she froze.

Karimi lifted her head slowly, meeting his yellow eyes as he stood over her, his arms crossed. Her brow furrowed as she glanced out toward the deck of Baratie, watching as the others surrounded Zoro, trying to keep him awake. She looked back at Mihawk, gritting her teeth.

"He's almost dead, you—"

"Almost, yes." He leaned his elbow against the railing if the ship. "And if he can't survive that, then he wasn't worth my time to begin with."

Oh.

Oh, the complete bastard.

He had left Zoro clinging to the edge of life, and he still expected her to keep up her end of the deal.

And yet...she had set the terms herself.

"F...fine," she said, pulling herself to her feet. She cast a glance down toward the docks, her heart clenching in her chest at the sight of Luffy kneeling over his first mate. "Just...let me say goodbye."

"Are you that close with them?" he asked, and the amusement in his tone was enough to boil her blood. She cast a glare over her shoulder in his direction, and he simply shrugged a shoulder. "Fine. You have an hour." He took a step closer, seizing her by her chin, his eyes searching hers for any sign of defiance. "Gather your belongings..." He leaned in closer, his forehead barely touching hers, the wide brim of his hat shadowing both of their faces. "...and your wits, and we'll be off."

His amusement was clear to her in more than just his gaze or his tone—Karimi could hear it in his head, hear just how pleased he was with himself as he left the ship.

And she didn't want to hear it for another second.

Karimi quickly employed her haki, shoved her walls up as high they could go, and watched him head down the docks, lowering herself back down to her knees to watch him through the railing. Her heart pounding, her bottom lip trembling, she knew she had no choice.

She had made her her bed amd now she had no choice to lie in it.

She had told him she would be his...and now she was.

Next Chapter Link again for your convenience

[hey-kae]

A Moment in Time

Based off August by Taylor Swift

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x female reader

Storyline: Spending your vacation with Charles was a risk, but was it one worth taking?

Warnings: language, sex but not really smut? , mention of alcohol and of drinking it, lots of kissing and cuddling, angst, badly proofread.

Sidenote: Might just be my favorite thing i’ve ever written, but sorry in advance. That’s all I’m gonna say…

You had been sitting between his legs, his arms were wrapped around you, his chin resting on your shoulder. A soft wind had blown, tickling your face and brushing through your hair, perfectly mirroring how soft the moment felt. The sun had slowly started setting, running away to hide behind the vast ocean, leaving the two of you a dull golden glow. You closed your eyes, welcoming the bewitching sound of the waves crashing against the shore as it melodically harmonized with the beat of your heart.

It was too perfect, no wonder it was so short-lived.

•••

“Charles, how would you describe the pace of your car today?” The voice on the TV snapped you out of your trance, snatching the memory away from you. You were in your living room with your friends. No one was paying attention to the screen anymore. They barely cared and just a little over a month ago, you didn’t care either. Now, that was a past long forgotten. He had tainted every part of you: body, soul and feelings.

It was too painful, no wonder it felt so real.

Salt air and rust on your door,

I never needed anything more.

Whispers of “Are you sure?”

Never have i ever before.

From the second your feet had met the burning sand of the vast beach stretched out in front of you, his voice wrapped itself around your heart, caging it so easily from the very first conversation.

“Are you on vacation here too?” He had asked, showing you the most breathtaking dimply smile you had ever seen in your life.

That should’ve been your first warning to run for the hills, to get lost in the vast spaces of greenery where his voice wouldn’t reach you and his prying, caring gazes wouldn’t be able unravel you, because they were only caring for such an ephemeral time. It should’ve been your first warning to run away before you lose yourself in him.

Should’ve, could’ve, would’ve… All’s pointless.

It was frightening how easily his simple question had changed every plan you had for your two weeks of vacation. It was scary how fast your mind started plotting ways to sneak out of your hotel room to his, for ways to meet up on the beach without anyone noticing. It was petrifying because you didn’t care about the consequences. Time beyond these two weeks ceased existing; you just wanted his arms wrapped around you, his hands on your body, his lips on yours and him smiling at you like you mattered, because for a short while, he made you feel like you did.

Sitting there with him wrapping you in his arms like he was ready to shelter you from every pain to ever exist was all that mattered. Your back was supported by his chest, his lips were kissing your neck as your hands played with the sand underneath you. It was rather absurd that at the time, you had only known each other for 3 days.

You didn’t care, he felt too familiar. He had just seemed like such a perfect fit: his head fit perfectly in the crook of your neck, his fingers seemed to have been meant to intertwine with yours. He was even at a perfect kissing height.

“Look at me, love.” He had whispered in your ear, his fingers ever so gently tilting your head towards him. Then, he smiled and even the waves stilled for a second, just letting you admire the perfect curve of his lips.

“You are so beautiful.” You had breathlessly but unintentionally whispered.

The misery? A blush spread across his cheeks, his smile growing wider as he leaned closer, his lips capturing yours in a delicate kiss that felt too perfect, too real; too perfect to be real.

“I’ve got nothing on your beauty, love.” He said between kisses.

It all happened in a blur after that, but you were suddenly straddling him as he laid on the sand, his lips never leaving yours, not even to breathe.

It seemed, for just a few weeks, neither of you ever cared about coming up for air. It seemed, for just a few weeks you were addicted to each other.

“We should stop…” His words were cautious, weighed down and charged with the risks involved, but you were on that vacation to take risks you had never dared taking before.

He was a risk, the biggest risk of your life. You were well aware of that. The goosebumps on your skin every time he ran his hands all over your body were screaming it to you. The way your heart raced every time his lips met yours made it clear as day. He just seemed like he’s a risk worth taking.

He’d be worth the pain, you had told yourself.

“I don’t want to stop, Charles.”

That short sentence seemed so earth-shattering to him.

His sparkling eyes, the perfect mix of colors, studied your face too intently, his gaze so caring, it made you lose your breath. He was shedding every layer off you with just his look, leaving you so exposed and vulnerable in his arms. Something squeezed at your heart when you heard him sigh, his emotions a mix of desperation, relief, but most obviously dread.

He pulled you down to lay on his chest, his tan arms firmly wrapping around you. You heard his every hesitant breath. You heard the way his heartbeat was racing. You felt his hands clutching your shirt like it was a lifeline he was fighting for, fighting himself to keep. Through the straggled inhales and the repetitive sighs, he softly whispered into your ear, “Are you sure?”

You were too afraid to answer, so afraid your voice would betray you, so afraid your tone would reveal too much of your emotions.

Were you sure? No. Never before; but you wanted him, you needed to feel him all over. You craved being consumed by him like a drug. You longed to offer him all that you’ve got on a golden plate like it was always his to take.

You reconnected your lips to his to muffle the one word on your mind,

“Please.”

He carried you back to his room, whispering sugar-dipped words to you as he snuck the two of you through the hallways.

His kisses were burning hot on your bare skin, scarring every inch of flesh they contacted, marking his trace on you forever.

Sure, you barely knew him but it felt like you did after you had spent the night admiring him, his closed eyes and parted lips, his delicate hands on your hips, his small smiles between kisses, his careful looks and the soft sounds he made.

His body glistened with a slight sheen of sweet as you felt him move inside you, soft and slow like he was engraving his memory into your body, like he was making the best of your time together, like he was so meticulously discovering everything you had ever hidden away. You too felt every emotion that coursed through his body that night. You felt everything so deeply, every move of his sent shivers down your spine. It had been so intimate, you had to break eye contact every time it was initiated so your whole body wouldn’t combust under his hooded gaze.

It was so intimate, you’d think he had made love to you.

Then, after long hours of whispered ensorcelling spells and sloppy kisses, just as the sun began rising, you snuck back into your room, body exhausted but vibrating with his lingering touch; mind pretending for yet another day that you didn’t know Charles Leclerc.

A day of many.

But i can see us lost in the memory,

August slipped away into a moment in time

‘cause it was never mine.

And i can see us twisted in bedsheets,

August slipped away like a bottle of wine

‘cause you were never mine.

Echos in your mind, flashes in front of your eyes, heart-stopping waves of hurt and your body burning from his long-gone kisses. You still sat there in front of the television.

Thoughts that tortured you, memories of his hands, longing for the safety of his arms and bittersweet visions of his lips on yours. You were frozen on the couch.

Tingling on every spot of your body that he had touched, soul-scarring sweet words he had whispered, beautiful eyes that had stared right into your soul. Changing the channel was impossible.

Your friends, never having been racing fans were still watching the screen nonetheless, rating each driver’s looks, judging if they would hook up with them.

You would’ve gotten bragging rights if your lips didn’t feel like they were on fire with the memory of his against them, if your heart wasn’t beating out of your chest, dreading seeing him again even if only through a screen.

“So, Charles! You’re starting fifteenth on the grid…”

You body froze and your limbs went cold. You couldn’t do it, couldn’t look up and see his face, the eyes that very briefly showed you love, the lips you had kissed too many times in just two weeks. The patterns on the carpet were less torturous to look at.

“Oh, ten out of ten. He could get it anytime, he doesn’t even have to ask.” The voice of your friend invaded your ears. You wanted to put your hands over them and lock out all the voices around you as you broke out in a cold sweat when you heard the rest of the girls start to discuss what he’d be like in bed.

You knew but you’d give anything to forget how heavenly he looked on top of you, how caring his hands felt and how attentive his eyes were. You wanted to say something, you wanted to tell them that sex has only felt real and meaningful with him but you couldn’t. You were tongue tied.

“I don’t know. It’s giving… vanilla.” One of your friends cringed.

“Vanilla? Girl, look at his eyes. He’d fuck you slow and soft when you needed it but that man knows how to rough it up. I just know it.” They argued.

True, you thought, feeling your eyes burning and your heart clenching at the memories.

Sure, the sex was great but the painful memories weren’t of that.

Sneaking out in the middle of the night to get food, driving around while exchanging soft chatters under the moonlight for hours, meeting up to watch the sunrise, beachside cuddles as the sun set, getting wine-drunk together and doing the unlikely thing that is giggling the night away instead of the expected sex, the small french phrases he tried to teach you only to end up laughing it away while telling you it was adorable when you tried to repeat after him.

Sure, the memory of the sex was painful but the memory of having him so casually around at every chance you had was excruciating.

Honestly, you were clueless how your friends never noticed.

“Hello! Where have you gone?” A hand was waving in front of your dazed, spaced out eyes.

Shaking him out of your thoughts, you replied.

“Here, i’m here. What’s going on?”

“You didn’t really give us your opinion on Mr. Leclerc.” She gestured to the screen where he was still talking. The “c” at the end of his family name was so harshly pronounced, it took you back to that time you were laying on his chest, watching the sun rise from his bed while he tried to get you to pronounce his full name in the right accent.

Swallowing away the heartache, you shrugged, “Looks bland to me, i don’t know. He doesn’t seem interesting.” You painfully lied and watched your friends’ eyes widen.

“That’s called being tasteless.”

You knew that, you agreed to that but they didn’t need to know it, especially if you weren’t planning to break down in sobs right in front of them.

They didn’t need to know how empty you felt, like you had lost the biggest part of your soul.

It was two weeks, just two weeks. You kept trying to remind yourself of that but your heart didn’t care. It was stuck on how fast the days had slipped from your grasp like the sand from that beach. It slipped away in the blink of an eye, leaving you to deal with a memory-packed head, so much memories that your mind had no idea how to deal with. It seemed like every touch exchanged, every whispered word, every longing gaze, every desperate kiss and every shaky breath you had exhaled when he smiled at you was lost in the wind, riding away towards the horizon, escaping on the angry waves of the vast ocean, progressively getting further and further away from your grasp.

The memories of you and him seemed distant, lost in time eternally but it felt so much like a fresh bleeding wound. August might’ve ended before you wanted it to but it was still with you everyday, in every thought and breath. How could it leave your mind when your skin still remembered the feel of the crisp white hotel bedsheets tangled between your legs as Charles softly snored into the crook of your neck, his arms tightly securing your body as close to his as possible? You still got goosebumps when you thought of his breath tickling your skin as he slept.

Maybe, just maybe, if it had only been sex, if all these other things never happened, it would’ve been different.

Maybe if you never woke up in his hold, if you never felt him litter innocent kisses all over your face, if you never heard his laugh, if you never held his hand or hugged him to sleep or shared his clothes or let him bring his glass of wine to your lips for you to drink or jokingly fed him breakfast or cried with him to his favorite movie, the pain would’ve been bearable.

Maybe, if none of that had happened, if he never started feeling like he was yours, you wouldn’t have felt like you lost him.

Maybe then, it wouldn’t have felt like a loss and you would’ve stayed aware of the fact that he was never yours to lose.

Your back beneath the sun,

Wishing i could write my name on it.

Will you call when you’re back at school?

I remember thinking i had you.

“What are you doing here?” The whisper had left your mouth quickly, your head poking through the door so your friend wouldn’t see the knocker in case she stirred awake.

A bandana was holding back Charles’ hair and suddenly that was all you could see until his lips were on yours in a hasty kiss, his face decorated with a bright smile afterwards.

“Meet at the beach.” The words were spoken softly against the skin of your forehead, his hands burning against your cheeks for a fleeting moment before he was walking away.

“It’s 5 in the morning!” Complaining got you nowhere, he had just turned back around, walking backwards, his small chuckle sounding through the hall but resonating in your mind, coursing through you veins and settling down in your heart, the reactions of your body only having paused when your breath caught in you throat at the sight of him blowing you a kiss before disappearing down the hallway.

It hadn’t mattered to you, what you were going to wear; you just wanted to be his arms, the few hours of distance having felt like weeks. It had made you gulp, realizing that this was bound to end but you had chosen to push away the thought and it was long gone as you ran towards him, sand flying behind you while your eyes were fixed on your target: Charles laying down shirtless on a towel, his sunglasses ready beside him.

“You are torture, i swear to God.” You had said to him while leaning down and giving him a kiss on the cheek, “We’ve barely had three hours of sleep.”

Charles had pulled you down to sit sideways on his lap, his lips immediately finding yours, the look in his eyes being dangerous, too lovable that it had made you completely forget that the vacation had already been halfway through.

“I just don’t want to waste time.” He had replied like the few words he had blurted out didn’t make you dizzy, like he hadn’t noticed the smile dropping off your face at the sound of the reminder.

The both of you had decided not to dwell on that.

Instead, you had enjoyed the sunrise and the soft, enamoring words that were being whispered to you, your eyes eventually closing once you had allowed the soft breeze to carry you away as if your heart hadn’t already been aching at the mere thought of being separated from Charles. But his arms had remained wrapped securely around you, his face in your neck while he was littering butterflies kisses onto your skin, his own eyes having shut, completely relaxed by your side, enjoying the way your hand had been softly scratching at his scalp and neck.

Soon enough, the early morning sun was shining down onto the two of you, illuminating the way Charles was laying on his stomach, his face tilted to look at you sat beside him on the sand, smiling as he admired your blissful face as you stared off into the horizon.

If only he could’ve read your mind. The thoughts in there weren’t nowhere near the apparent content on your face.

Scrolling through your social media the previous night while you had been lounging with your friends was nothing but a cruel reminder of how shallow your knowledge of Charles was, that realization itself having been a wake up call, reminding you that this was the way it was supposed to be, that everything would end the second you would check out of the resort.

Your curiosity had gotten the best of you and you had searched him up on instagram.

Formula one driver, you had read, your brows raising when you realized you knew nothing about him, even when he felt so familiar to you.

His gaze had been hot on your skin, unmissable as he admired you like you were a treasure he was on the brink of losing, but you couldn’t have met his eyes if your life depended on it.

In substitute, you had watched the waves as they crashed on the shore, you had sat there right by his side, feeling like you were already half the world away from him as your mind had begged you to distance your heart from the ticking bomb.

“You’re a Formula 1 driver…” the words on your mind had escaped your lips before your mind had registered that they did. You hadn’t even looked at Charles’ reaction but his eyebrows rose and his breath caught in his chest, not having expected that sentence to leave your mouth.

“I was hoping i could continue to ignore that for a while.” He had chuckled as he sat up, his arms wrapped around his legs.

“Why?”

“It’s not going exactly well - the season i mean and i’ve managed to stop thinking about it with you by my side.”

That had been the last time the two of you discussed his career and his fame but the rest of that morning was spent watching every little move Charles made. You had come to the conclusion that there was nothing in this world that he didn’t do gracefully.

Nobody’s perfect but fuck, his little quirks did nothing but complete him, nothing but make your heart beat faster.

He bit his nails like there was no tomorrow sometimes when he spaced out, but it had only been another excuse for you to hold his hand. He hated sunscreen with a burning passion but that often ended with you straddling him and applying it to his body, sometimes tracing your name discreetly in the white cast as if it made him any more yours.

You wished he was, you really did and it wasn’t even the major things that gave you these thoughts.

Watching him stroll down the beach, testing the temperature of the water with his sunglasses on his eyes while he smiled back at you made you wish he was yours.

Him not letting go of your hand as the two of you walked through the water made you wish he was yours.

The way he moved his Ray-bans onto your face and smiled in satisfaction after he did so made you wish he was yours.

Him wrapping you in his sweater during chilly nights beachside, giving you his shirt to sleep in, removing your make up when you were too drunk to do so yourself, teasing you from across the club when you were with your friends, hugging you as you slept, drinking wine with you in the bathtub, kissing your hand while driving late at night, buying you coffee at midnight…

It had become painful, how much you were wishing you would get to call him yours but then you looked up him. The glistening water surrounding the two of you had been reflecting on his face and even through the dark shades he had placed on your face, you could see how breathtaking his eyes looked, shining with happiness and serenity while his lips curved into a perfect smile that had you weak within instants as he studied your face. You had forced yourself to look away, your heart not allowing you to even enjoy the moments you had left with him as it had already started paining you.

“Stop.” You had urged him.

“Stop what?”

“Looking at me like that. It’s making me nervous.” and making pain shoot through my body, but you had only said half the truth.

Charles, oblivious to everything you had been thinking, had chuckled and kissed you.

But I can see us lost in the memory,

August slipped away into a moment in time,

'Cause it was never mine.

And I can see us twisted in bedsheets,

August sipped away like a bottle of wine,

'Cause you were never mine.

“If you keep spacing out, i swear to god…” The voice of your best friend shook you out of your thoughts for the third time in half an hour.

Never would you have guessed that seeing his face again, only through a TV screen, would hurt you that much.

You tried to convince yourself that you didn’t care but you did. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have froze when his eyes looked at the camera, you wouldn’t be constantly loosing your focus and getting carried away by your turbulent thoughts.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You apologized, finding yourself a new escape route that was getting a beer out of the fridge in the kitchen this time, “I’m gonna get something to drink.” You quickly left the living room, the questioning words of your best friends still chasing your down the hallway.

You grabbed the cold glass bottle and opened it with a pop as you leaned against the counter, the breaths in your lungs forced and your arms going numb as you felt your legs shake. Why did he have such an effect in you? You could never understand but the tears were starting to pool in your eyes, his smiling image making an appearance behind your clouded vision.

Missing him was so painful. You didn’t really prepare yourself for such a heart-wrenching separation but that didn’t mean there was anyway to avoid it.

Your eyes were widened and staring into the distance, you fingers tight around the bottle as you mumbled to yourself to stop crying.

“Okay, spill.” Your closest friend interrupted, making you jump since you seemed disconnected from all your surroundings.

“Where did you come from?” You wiped your palms against your eyes and attempted a laugh that wouldn’t have fooled anyone.

You managed it. The tears stopped, you dried your face with your hands, your lips weren’t quivering but smiling instead as you brought the beer up to take a sip, all under the burning hot gaze of your suspicious best friend.

She watched you gulping down the alcoholic beverage with enthusiasm, what was unusual since you always said you weren’t exactly a fan of beer. She eyed your stance, studied your movements, looking for a sign, a sign of anything at all until the shaking of your hands become unmissable.

“Are you okay?”

You nodded, quickly putting down the bottle before it started slipping and your vision blurred again.

You tried. God, you tried so hard to hide it, biting down on your lip, cracking your knuckles, blinking furiously.

You tried but you didn’t succeed.

A sob forced its way out, the tears now impossible to hold back as they ran down your cheeks in burning hot streams.

You felt a pair of arms wrapping around you, attempting to comfort you as you finally allowed yourself to cry.

“I hate him.” The words kept pouring out of your mouth into your best friend’s hair.

You let her hold you.

You let her hold you for the first time in ages. You embraced it despite you rarely feeling comfortable with such gestures and that is how she knew something was severely wrong.

Your words weirded her out since, as far as she knew, there were no guys involved in your life at the moment.

“Who?”

The question was so simple.

That one syllable shouldn’t have been such a trigger, a play button to the tape of newly made memories that never ceased to bring you immense heartache no matter how much you had restarted it these past few days.

Him telling you he wished he could have you forever and you asking yourself why he couldn’t.

The walk back to your room from his and the ever growing sense of happiness and fulfillment tainted by pain and dread.

The eye contact that always lasted for a heartbeat too long when he walked into the hotel bar with his company and found you there then the smile he would give you when no one was looking.

Him helping you pick out your bikini the night before then teasingly watching you from his room’s balcony the next day as you sunbathed on the beach with your friends only for the swimsuit to end up on his bedroom floor just a few hours later when you would sneak out to meet up with him.

The sweatshirt he had given you being found in your luggage and the stupid stories and excuses you had come up with to hide the truth of the sudden appearance of a shirt that was clearly not yours and the burning jealousy that shot through your chest when your friend borrowed it from you.

All of that was really that pointless to him? Because it sure was hurting like a bitch on your side.

After a few seconds that had lasted too long, the reply to your friends question pushed past your lips.

“Charles.”

Back when we were still changin' for the better,

Wanting was enough.

For me, it was enough,

To live for the hope of it all,

Cancel plans just in case you'd call

And say, "Meet me behind the mall".

So much for summer love and saying "us",

'Cause you weren't mine to lose.

You weren't mine to lose, no.

Hope was never supposed to hurt.

Hope was a word that had been ringing in your ears ever since you were a child, people endlessly telling you that it is your strongest weapon.

Maybe they failed to mention that it was a weapon that could be turned towards you at any given second, therefore maiming you with something that was supposed to be your strength.

Hoping when it came to Charles was a bullet headed straight for your heart at a hurling speed and in a way, you were awaiting the pain with open arms.

That particular pain would feel like a confirmation that, even if it was for a very brief time, you had him.

That was the way you saw it as the days had passed and another secret meet up had turned into another, a hug had turned into a cuddle, and a kiss had turned into burning, eager touches that had no failed to send electric waves throughout your veins.

He was sat against the headboard. His head had been on top of yours. His arms had wrapped tightly around your waist.

The thin white sheets were pulled over your shoulders, covering your naked bodies. You had been holding him like you weren’t ready to lose him in just two days; and you weren’t but he didn’t need to know that.

“I miss home.” He had told you and slipped down the bed, putting the both of you in a sleeping position.

You had thought so hard of something to say but nothing had come up. You hadn’t been missing home, you were far too afraid to because it was undeniable that you’d miss him way more than being relieved to go back to you home.

Having not received any words back, he had begun brushing his hand through your hair, knowing that always put you to sleep. He had wanted to fall asleep with you that night, with your arms wrapped so tight around him, with your head on his chest and your eyes looking up at him like he had hung the stars and put the moon in his sky.

“I don’t know what to say.” You voice had startled him, “ I don’t even know where you’re from.”

You had felt the vibrations of his laugh from under you and for some reason, it had made you blush like he didn’t have you pinned down onto the bed less than twenty minutes earlier.

“Monaco.” He had replied, causing your eyebrows to furrow as you tried to recall where that was.

“You’re french?” The surprise had been evident in your voice.

“No.” He groaned, “I’m monégasque.”

“Monagésque?” Your frown had been impossible to hide.

“No, sweetheart. Monégasque.”

“Forget it. French is easier.”

Within seconds, he was grabbing his phone, “But i’m not french!” He had complained while he pulled up a map of Europe on his screen, pointing you to a minuscule spot on the map.

“That is Monaco.” He had then pointed to another spot, “That is France.”

He had went on a rant after that, detailing to you geographical facts that you had no interest in knowing but that you had listened to nonetheless because he just had looked and sounded adorable as he told you why Monaco was its own country.

Charles was twirling a strand of your hair as he spoke, the tone of his voice soothing you as the geography had turned to history and eyes had started burning, threatening to close. Your sleepy mind hadn’t been working properly when you pushed yourself up and startled him with a kiss.

“I’m gonna miss you so much.” You had said without thinking, you own eyes widening, your mind not having expected your mouth to speak these words into existence.

Charles had stilled when the words had met his ears, leaving him speechless. He had tightened his hold on you, kissing you again instead of replying while your heart had begun shattering at how swiftly he had avoided acknowledging that statement.

Every fiber of you had begged you to at least go sleep in your room but his hold was a magnet that you never seemed to manage escaping. A kiss to dismiss the subject should’ve never been enough but fuck, it was.

Anything he gave you was enough. For all that vacation, you had went by the logic of a bit or nothing and no matter how small that bit he was willing to offer you was, it was better than nothing, better than the void. It felt enough.

The smell of his perfume lingering on your clothes was enough and the little nothings he whispered to you were enough. Waking up to him singing in the shower was enough and the two pictures that the two of you gave in and took were enough.

Wanting him by your side was enough.

One thing was enough, you wouldn’t ask for much, just a sprinkle of hope to gold plate the infinite pain that looking into his eyes gave you, just a silver of glimmer to shine in the darkness of the thought of saying goodbye forever.

You wouldn’t have asked for much, just for him to keep you wanting, to keep you hoping instead of cutting you off like the last two weeks meant nothing at all.

Or maybe even a simple “I will miss you too.” but it never came.

Nothing that made you feel any better came from Charles.

He had fallen asleep and you had sneaked out immediately after that instead of in the morning like always.

Your room was empty, reminding you of yet another night out you turned down under the name of tiredness so you could spend it with him.

You had slipped into your bed and stared at the ceiling, wondering why were you doing that to yourself, basically committing to an all-strings-attached situation that had an expiration date stamped on it, that had the end set before it even started.

Charles. He was the only answer. He was the reason you were so happy but also the bullet lodged in your chest.

Charles had become too important in your life considering he was supposed to be a side character that would eventually fade out like he faded in.

You should’ve known, though. Right from the get-go, you should’ve known. Charles wasn’t anything but main love interest materiel.

So, the next morning, much to your dismay and your friends’ annoyance, you pretended you needed more sleep when they made breakfast plans then you waited for them to leave before you found yourself in the monégasque’s bed, cuddled into his side as he woke up.

'Cause you were never mine, never mine,

But do you remember?

“No way.” Three faces stared back at with slacked jaws and widened eyes.

“Charles Leclerc? The same one that is in that car?” One of them gestured to the television where the race was still in progress.

You were crying so hard your ears were ringing and your vision was no longer clear, finally letting the emotions of the past week of torture unleash themselves. You couldn’t even tell who was speaking.

“You’re lying. If someone who looked that good was around me for that much time, trust me, I’d notice.” A voice spoke while you stared down at your bouncing leg and the curdled tissue in your hands.

“Shut up. You’re not helping.” Someone replied.

“Are you sure it was him?”

You were someone who had a fast temper. It was something everyone knew about you. Almost all intense emotions you felt turned back eventually to anger and it wasn’t something you were proud of but it was the way that you were.

“Do you think i’m fucking dumb? Or are you being entertained by this?” You snapped, grabbing your phone and scrolling past the pictures of sunset and sunrises and beached and nightclubs until those two pictures reappeared.

You didn’t allow yourself to dwell over them, over the way Charles was hugging you in bed, over the way you were both tangled in the sheets, over the way his arm was wrapped around your chest and the big, bright smile you were sporting in one of the pictures. You didn’t even allow your to look at the second picture since it was one where you were in your swimsuits on the beach, your hair flying behind you while he was carrying you as you wrapped your legs around his waist, his lips molded to yours while the phone, set on timer and propped up facing the two of you, captured the moment and the seemingly evergreen smiles on your faces, even as you kissed.

Your phone was instantly passed around your friends. Seeing the pictures made them realize that no matter how surreal this all seamed, it was still reality.

Meanwhile, you were attempting to escape to your bedroom and in fact, you thought you made it when you had reached you bed and tugged yourself under the cover but, soon enough, everyone joined you, huddling up beside you to comfort you, only now realizing the extent of the hurt you were feeling.

They had rightfully questioned you about what happened, how it happened and how you managed to keep this from them.

You told them everything, feeling the weight lift off your chest as you did so.

You narrated to them how you met and how you had no clue who he was and why he was being so secretive at first all the way to the end, to the very last day and the hell that had broken loose in his hotel room as goodbye’s turned into the one and only fight the two of you ever had.

Then, you cried you heart out into the pillow while your friends sat beside you, never leaving your side, the worry in their chest doubling every time they attempted to recall the last time they had seen you like this, only for them to realize they had never did.

Eventually, a sad movie was put on, the race channel quickly having been switched the second you reappeared in the living room. They tried to resist it but ended falling asleep.

You sat there alone, bored and with burning eyes, the crying now having downgraded to small sniffles while you spaced out.

One thought replayed in your mind until the you caved in and switched the channel back onto the race.

Does he think about you at all? Does he remember everything just as vividly and specifically as you did?

Does he remember what he was wearing that first day? Because you couldn’t seem to shake the white shorts and navy button down out of your head.

Does he think about the moonlight reflecting so beautiful onto the ocean surface the night at the beach when he had carried you back into his room? Or the first night the two of you spent together?

Does he recall the lady at the coffeeshop nearby that you visited at midnight and the comment she had made when she saw you holding hands? “Aw, the two of you are cutest couple i’ve seen!”

Does he remember how quickly he dropped your hand after that?

Does he ever think back to the time he kept you up all night so you could binge watch his favorite movies with him? Or the way he had you wrapped in a bone-crushing hug as he fell asleep at dawn after that?

Does he reminisce over the sunsets you’ve watched and the sunrises you had welcomed? The waves you fell asleep to and the stars you tried to name? The songs you played to each other and the lyrics you pointed out?

Does he remember? Will you ever know? Do you even want to know?

Maybe it’s a good thing that all these questions lacked answers, that they would go unanswered forever.

Forever was scary but not as much as the possible answers were.

But do you remember?

Remember when I pulled up and said, "Get in the car",

And then canceled my plans just in case you'd call?

Back when I was livin' for the hope of it all, for the hope of it all.

"Meet me behind the mall"

Soft sounds of the engine running and Taylor Swift playing on the radio as you and Charles had driven around the unfamiliar streets illuminated by mere moonlight and occasional flickering lights were enough.

It was perfect, it was all you needed; it made you wonder if this meant anything to Charles.

Let a couple months water down the events of August, would he still remember you? A world where you wouldn’t remember him seemed like an alternate one at that point.

He hadn’t seemed to have been thinking about that. His hand had been lightly rested on your thigh as you drove while he had sat slouched in his seat, letting the soft music carry him away.

It had always been Charles that drove the two of you around the unfamiliar streets late at night, not once you and it had started to annoy you.

At the end of a party he had been attending with his friends, you had picked him up instead of allowing him to walk back to the hotel and somehow, he had managed to make his absence go unnoticed.

On a cliff overlooking the bay, the two of you had spent the entirety of the night, laying down on the hood of the car as you gazed up at the stars.

The two of you had planned on ignoring that you would be leaving the next day, but sat there with barely anything to do or say, you had ended up talking each other through the stress of going back to your everyday lives.

“Some Sundays, i just want to run away.” Charles had confessed as he continued tossing pebbles into the water underneath.

“I don’t know shit about racing but, why?”

His head had dropped onto your shoulder and his hand had grabbed yours.

“I don’t know how to say it. I’m racing for a team. Winning is not only my effort paying off but theirs as well and week in , week out, one of the two sides has been ruining the other side’s efforts and upsetting the fans. Then, you manage to deal with the disappointment but you’re immediately tossed into a sea of journalists who never fail to rub salt into the wound.”

You had rested your head on top of his then, praying that he’d take it as a sign to carry on.

“Forget it. I sound like an ass, bitching on about a life hundreds dream of.” He had sighed.

“Just because something is highly sought after doesn’t mean it doesn’t have its downsides, Charles.”

“Say it again.”

You had frowned, not understanding the reasoning.

“Just because-”

“No. My name, love. I love the way you say it.”

You had blushed and smiled, “Stop it.”

“Why? Am i making you nervous?”

“Yes.”

“Seems to be my speciality now.” His chuckle nearly killed you, but you survived.

Driving back to the hotel had proved itself to be interesting. It seemed to have finally sunk in that it was the end, that within a couple of hours you would have bid each other farewell and part ways, not having exchanged even phone numbers.

“I’m thankful for meeting you.” Charles had said with a choked up voice once the car was parked, his hand already on the door handle.

“Charles, i know we said only on vacation but i want you to keep this.” You had slipped the thin, red bracelet off your wrist and dropped it in his palm, watching as he put it on.

“Will it help me win races?” He had joked, his hands cradling your face now.

“I’m sure you can do that on your own. I believe in you even if i’ve never even seen anything that would make me do that.” You had attempted to joke back but ended up tearing up instead.

“It means the world coming from you, baby.” His lips then crashed with yours in what was the most emotionally-charged kiss of the vacation. It was right then that you had realized, he wasn’t as unaffected as he acted.

And if that kiss held emotions, then the hug that followed it was packed with feelings. His arms were around you neck, his hand in your hair, pushing you closer to him while your hands fisted his shirt all while he kissed you neck and face repeatedly, hiding the tears he had been holding back with the kisses.

“Fuck, why are we acting like i wouldn’t be seeing you once more in a few hours?” You had forced yourself to pull way.

“Meet me in my room in three hours.” He stepped out of the car.

Three hours later, your fist had knocked on his door and he immediately pulled you inside.

It was the most awkward fifteen minutes of your life up until a fight broke when you told him you’d miss him.

“I told you from the very start that it would end here.”

You hadn’t understood why he was picking a fight right before you parted ways. You were aware that that had been the end and you weren’t asking him to keep in contact so you had went up to him, kissed his cheek and left with tears streaming down face.

For the hope of it all…

Maybe you should’ve stuck with the goodbye you got in the car.

Maybe you shouldn’t have even said goodbye.

Maybe you shouldn’t have stayed out until morning with him.

Maybe you shouldn’t have had that talk on the cliff or even went on that car ride.

Maybe you should’ve stopped everything when you found out about his job and his schedule and the impossibility of working around it.

Maybe you shouldn’t have let “just sex” slip into everything and anything he wanted, everything and anything that would allow you to keep his attention for a while longer.

Maybe you should’ve pushed him away that morning when you felt like the happiest person on earth just because you woke up in his arms.

Hell, maybe you shouldn’t have even replied to the question he had asked you the day you got there, or maybe you shouldn’t have even went there or on vacation begin with.

Maybes, you had concluded, were the mind’s personally inflicted torture, a thought that came too late, way past its rational arrival time. Like what ifs, they did nothing but force you to dwell longer on a past that you are now unable to change, only to look back on, no matter how unpleasant it was, no matter how rushed the decisions made were.

The problem was that the past you were looking back on didn’t come across as unpleasant at any point of the excessive reminiscence.

It hurt.

It sure did hurt, like a stab in the chest, like being suffocated, like a door being slammed shut right in your face, but as you watched his exhausted figure in the television, your little red bracelet dancing on his wrist as he spoke and gestured with his hands, you realized that never in your life, you would regret him.

In fact, you would do anything to go back to that beach and lay on his chest for two more minutes.

Even if you could turn back time, you wouldn’t have walked away from him.

Sighing once he disappeared off the screen, your eyes drifted to the small carry on you still had to unpack, figuring you might as well do it.

The stuff inside it were carelessly tossed back into their original places, the only things being actually put back properly being the fragiles: perfume, makeup…

But in the front compartment was something that made you frown.

An additional pair of sunglasses tucked away neatly in their case.

Opening the case felt like opening a time capsule because Charles had left you his sunglasses in your bag with a tiny note folded right under them.

“Tu vas tellement me manquer, mon ange.”

I’m gonna miss you so much, angel.

Part 2

[sister-dear]

For the fanfic ask game you shared: I want more of your mer!Link/Ravio fic! So depending on your mood, either:

Option A (sensible idea I thought of AFTER Option B): Link's perspective of their meeting.

Option B (nonsense initial thought I had when I read the "change one small detail and imagine how the scene would play out" prompt): everything's exactly the same except that he's a reverse merman, i.e. fish part on top.

Thank you so much for the ask, these were fun options!

I laughed so damn hard at option B that it's getting an equally nonsense answer: if Ravio is as distracted as he is by pretty hair and a toned chest, he is going to have a major crisis over how hard it is to look away from those legs and what’s between them. XD

And for option A!

It hurt to breathe, and he was colder than he could ever remember being. His thoughts dragged. Freezing water stung at every rush over his gills. Open air whipped across his face; a strong wind almost as cold as the water around him.

That wasn’t right. 

What happened? Why was he at the surface? Where was he? Not Koholint's warm, welcoming waters.

Something had him. Sand dragged under his tail, the crash of the surf over him trying to pull him back home beneath the waves, but something kept him anchored half in and half out. 

Dangerous. He should– he should–

Breathe. Ouch. 

Please wake up. I’ve put too much effort into you now for you not to wake up.

Warming magic flickered at the edge of his awareness, but he might need it to get away from whatever had him instead. 

It felt like hands. But if another mer had him, why were they on the shore, and what was wrong with their tail? Something felt off.

A larger wave than the rest crashed over him, submerged him head to fin in what should have been a soothing embrace and instead sent cold biting down to his very bones.

More importantly, a startled exclamation sounded above him. Whoever had him moved in a way they shouldn’t have been able to. It almost felt like they leapt out of the waves and then somehow stayed there, taking Link’s wrist with them, a bruising band around him keeping the ocean from taking him home. 

That strange not-a-tail settled under his head again after the water receded. 

He finally noticed the heavy tremor in the hands that clutched him to an unfamiliar body. The almost frightened pace of their breathing. 

Breathing still hurt. His gills felt dry. Crackling.

Freezing.

That awareness of something not right finally gave him the push to gather himself and drag heavy eyelids open.

Oh. Pretty. 

And human. 

Link had only heard about humans in children’s tales. Beings in far off lands with the upper body of a mer and a lower body similar to those who lived in Animal Village, on Koholint rather than around it. 

Apparently they were real. 

Or he was dreaming.

Vague interest stirred beneath the woozy disorientation. Link dragged himself closer to full consciousness, fascinated and wanting to take in every detail.

It - he? - was swathed in the same kinds of coverings as the residents of Animal Village, visibly shivering in the freezing surf himself. Strangely blunt teeth wedged in his lower lip to still the chattering of his jaw in a way that made a different kind of interest stir. He clutched Link so tightly to himself that Link could feel every curve of the body beneath his head, but for all that he stayed carefully away from Link’s gills. 

Link wondered what his name was.

Warming magic flickered again, more insistent this time. Link ignored it.

He should say something. Try to get the human’s attention.

Words stuck in a throat that burned just as badly as his gills. He swallowed hard. 

The human looked down. The darkness of his hair made the brilliance of his green eyes even more apparent, and Link found himself captivated by this beautiful creature straight out of a fairytale, freezing right along with him on an unfamiliar shore.

“You’re awake!”

[xlxvesxckx]

[Feel Special. Ending]

Synopsis: Getting closer to Jotaro spells good news for you, but then again you still have the issue of Dio lurking behind.

Au: Royal Au

Warnings: Smut, Jealously, violence mostly.... nothing really to out there. though there is 18+ content in this chapter! If you want to skip it will have a lil warning when it starts and ends, other than that, Please enjoy!

Also please read the little note at the end for future fanfic endeavors.

Feel free to support me if you want to!

☆Here's the first part!: Feel Special

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

“Ahh! Miss Y/n~ Jotaro wishes to see you!”

You giggle at the singing voice of Evan entering your room. Evan comes over and slings her arms around you.

rocking you back and forth. “He says he’ll like to take you out!” Evan teases and you feel heat rise to

your cheeks. “Aww Look at you blushing~! I’ll go let him know you’re ready!” Evan exclaimed before leaving as quickly as she arrived. You shake your head at the bubbly girls antics

It’s been about 3 months since you left alongside the prince and his advisor. You were moved to the Joestar estate, a large manor where the family stayed.

You were the personal advisor to Queen Holly, a cheerful older woman who was Jotaro’s Mother. She was a pretty blonde with bright greenish blue eyes and a bubbly spirit, the total opposite of her darling son.

It was your job to help her out with daily tasks, and help her with passing down the royal crown to her son.

Speaking of her son..

Prince Kujo had become your close friend during this trying time. He supported you during your transition to the new job. He 

Make sure that you were comfortable when it came to anything you needed. From walking you to your room at night, to helping you fix the food for the day, the prince was not leaving you alone.

Evan said it was because you reminded him so much of Isabel, someone who did the exact same things you did.

You wanted so badly to ask the Prince about his late friend, but you didn’t want to open any wounds and ruin your chance in the new home you were living in.

You had heard about her from Mariah already, but you wanted to know the princes side, as you knew he was the one most deeply affected by the woman's tragic passing.

Sighing you ran a hand through your hair, you jumped as you heard a deep voice in your room.

“Are you ready?”

You turned around to face the prince, who was dressed in a simple black turtleneck and white slacks. He was without his signature hat for once and he held a soft smile on his lips.

You nodded and slowly got up out of your chair and walked over to him. Jotaro held out his hand and you took it, allowing him to guide you out the door.

You had to ask him about her today.

—--------

Jotaro took you to the beach.

He remembered that you had said you’ve never been, so he kept his promise and made sure he brought you out to come and see the ocean. 

The two of you sat near a secluded area of the beach sitting beside each other.

You looked out to the ocean and leaned against the Prince. Jotaro places a hand on your thigh, making you look up at him.

“I know you want to know about Isabel.”

You froze and went to look away but Jotaro moved your face back to face him. The Prince pulled you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you, holding you in place.

“You remind me so much of her…” He starts out softly. He places his head in the crook of your neck with a soft sigh. “Isabel was my best friend. I was raised alongside her basically, split apart by our class differences.” You place your hands on top of Jotaro’s, listening to him talk.

“Isabel had blonde hair, it was long and fell to her back, she had pretty green eyes and brown skin. She took nothing from anyone. She was not one for bullshit. She made sure that everyone knew that..” You could feel the prince begin to shake a bit, he held you tighter as he took a deep breath.

“Then…then.. She went to work for that bastard…that stupid bastard. She was so headstrong, even when I told her I didn't think it was a good idea, she still went ahead with it and started a job there. And at first, everything was fine. She visited me often and she was fine. She was still her spunky self…but…then one day, she came back crying..”

Jotaro could remember like it was yesterday, he had just come back from talking with his grandfather to come to Evan holding Isabel in her arms. Isabel was hard down crying, sobbing her eyes out.

“He…he lied to me…He lied to me Jojo!...”

Jotaro knew of Isabel’s feelings for the blonde bastard known as Dio. He also knew of his promiscuous ways, he warned his dear friend about it, but she had told him that he had changed.

But when she came to him crying, he knew that was false. His heart broke as he walked over and held his dear friend.

Jotaro hated how hurt she sounded. He hated it and he wanted her to stay far far away from Dio. 

But of course, he knew she wanted closure.

“Isa, I don’t think you should go over there…” 

“Oh I’ll be fine Jojo! I’ll be right back! I just need closure…I need to know why…why he did it Jojo!”

“But-”

“I’ll be fine! I’ll see you tonight!”

"But-"

"No buts! I love you Jojo! I'll be back!"

Jotaro watched as she walked away from him. And when she walked out that door, she walked out of his life and that was the last time that he ever saw her again.

He didn’t know what happened until Mariah came to visit Evan one day, and broke the news to the Prince.

His friend was dead.

She was found with a stab wound in the side of her neck, it was said that she had a look of shock and betrayal on her features. And it was then that Jotaro knew that Dio had taken her from him.

“I don’t want to lose you like How i lost her..” He muttered holding you close to his body. You could feel tears welling up in your eyes as Jotaro finally let you go.

You moved around so you could face him now. You placed both of your hands on the side of his cheeks and stared him in the eyes. Jotaro’s eyes were watery, like he was about to cry or was crying.

“I promise you’re not going to lose me, Your Highness. I won’t leave you alone..” You answer him, your eyes fall to his plush lips and your mind is racing.

Should you kiss him? Would that be wrong? He just told you a story about his dead friend would this be the right thing to do?

You took up all your courage and pulled the Prince in for a kiss. You watched as his eyes widened before they fluttered close slowly.

You wrapped your arms around his neck before he moved to lay back on the sand. Jotaro moved his lips against your, pulling you closer to him.

Every time Jotaro looked at you, You were a splitting image of Isa.

From the way you talked, to the way you dressed, Even down to the way you interacted with him and Evan. It was like she was in you, channeling herself through you.

Though, you were also nothing like her. You had someone rational thinking, you knew that Dio was wrong.  You knew what you wanted, and what Dio was offering was not

It pained the prince to think of what happened to Isabel to happen to you, vanishing just to pop up dead. Stab wound in the neck, left for all her friends to find her.

All because she went back for answers..

He knew that you were thinking of going back too , So he was going to do what ever he could do to keep you here. To keep you safe and prevent himself from losing someone else so special to him…

Someone he loved…

—--------(smut ahead!)-----------

“A-ah..Your Majesty w-what-ah~!”

Being underneath the Prince/future king of the Joestar family was not on your list. 

Jotaro had your legs up on his shoulders as his hips slammed against yours, the male leaned down to capture your lips in his to muffle your moans into pittiful little whimpers.

“Yes? Tell me what you want princess? Tell your king what you want..” Jotaro’s low voice sent shivers down your spine, you were so glad that your room was on the opposite side of the manor. You would have been so embarrassed if someone could hear your whines.

“Ngh..please harder…” You begged and Jotaro could only smirk as he moved to press your legs against your chest.

You let out a choked gasp as he pulled all the way out just to slam back in, setting the tone for the brutal pace that followed. Your pathetic little gasps and moans filled the air along with Jotaro’s soft grunts.

“This little pussy belongs to me doesn’t it princess?..” He asks and you nod furiously. The Prince may not be a usually talkative person, but the filthy words that were leaving his mouth at this time had your head spinning.

“Such a tight pussy…made just for me..”

“No one can ever fuck you as good as i can princess…”

“Be a good girl and tell them who’s fucking you right now…”

Your head was spinning from all the dirty words.

Jotaro soon pulls out of you, leaving you a whining mess but the Prince shushes you. “Ah ah..don’t whine. I’ll help you finish princess…” You blush as Jotaro lifts you so easily to position you on his lap, directly in front of a mirror.

You watch as Jotaro takes his cock in his hand and realigns himself at your entrance before sinking you back down on his cock. The male placed kisses along your neck as he slowly helped you move up and down. 

“I don't know why Dio wasted all his love on someone else..” He muttered softly, his hands trailing over your body.

They finally settled on your breasts, cupping them within his large hands. Your soft whimpers were music to his ears. 

Jotaro hated to admit it, but he loved seeing you this vulnerable. He hated seeing you so scared with your guard up when you first got here, thinking you were going to be scolded for doing things wrong.

He found himself slowly falling for you and wanting to do anything to protect you from what was going to happen. 

He refused to let you get hurt by that bastard. And in order to do that..

He had to make sure you were his…

"I'm going to make sure you always know you're special..."

—--------(smut end!)---------------------

Jotaro smiled as he had you in his arms.

It was a mandatory event for all royals to attend, it was discussing matters of the kingdom and how the economy was doing it. And he made sure people knew you were with him, to his hand lingering on your hip, to pulling you away from prying eyes and holding you from behind, the Prince was being cocky. 

I mean who wouldn’t? You were beautiful and smart, anyone would want you.

Jotaro left your side for a bit to talk to some of the other higher up royals. And as quick as he left, you felt a hand tap your shoulder.

You turned around to see Olivia staring back at you, she looked apologetic and you gave her a polite smile. 

“Oh Olivia, how are you?”

 “Y/n” 

Olivia looked to be a shell of the former girl that made your life a living hell. she looked broken, empty as if the only thing in her life was taken away from you.

"Oliv-"

"I should've listened to you. Lord Dio is awful Y/n.." She quickly cried out softly, pulling you into a hug. "Ever since you left, he kept trying to turn other girls into you, and when it didn't work.."

She paused for a second squeezing you. "They were killed."

You gasped at her words but watched as Olivia pulled back from her hug with a saddened expression.

She then looked around before leaning in to whisper in your ear. 

“Lord Dio is watching you..” She muttered and you felt the hairs on your neck stand up straight. You looked behind her to meet red eyes, staring back at yours with an almost shocked look that soon turned into a smirk.

When you looked back to Olivia, she mouthed the words 'I'm sorry' to you before grabbing your hand roughly and tightly.

Olivia they began to pull you towards the male, and you could feel fear rise up in your body, but on top of fear…it was confusion? Why in the hell was the once cocky Olivia bringing you to the man she fought tooth and nail for.

You were now in front of Dio and he only smirked down at you, “My little pet…you’ve become so beautiful..” He says, one of his hands coming up to caress your cheek. You backed away and he only chuckled at your reluctance. 

“What happened to the spunky little thing that I once had?” He asked and you turned your cheek at him, highly annoyed with how he was talking to you.

“I am not yours Brando. Apparently I never have and I never will be.” You snapped and he placed a hand under your chin.

“Oh really? Then who do you ‘belong’ to?”

“Not you, you damn spoiled banana peel.” You sighed in relief as Evan walked over. She was already disgusted by the male, so seeing him come up to you didn’t help anything out at all. She pushed the male back only to have her hand gripped by him.

“I would back off if I were you. Evan.”

“Oh we on a first name basis? I’m honored~. Now get your filthy mitts off me.” Evan snatched her hand away before going to lead you away.

Dio scoffed as he looked at the two of you before walking up to you. He suddenly gripped Evan by the back of her hair, earning a yell of pain as he gripped hard. He then looked at you, an unmistakable look of jealously across his features.

“So you’re just going to leave me like that? After All I did for you Y/n! You’re just going to leave me for some stupid ass Joestar?!” Dio shoved Evan to the ground and pulled you to his chest. You let out a yelp of pain as he gripped your arm tightly.

“Answer me dammit! What does he have that I don't? I can give you anything you want! ANYTHING!” You hated the fact that it was an unspoken law that if a royal was yelling at someone of a lower class, they would turn their heads.

“D-dio you’re hurting me-”

Dio laughed at your pathetic pleas before gripping harder, so hard in fact that you thought it was going to leave a bruise when he finally lets go.

“Dammit Isabel! Tell me, WHY IS HE BETTER THAN ME!?”

You stared at Dio scared.

When Dio looked down at you...

All he saw was...Her....his beloved.

You could barely process what he called you, you managed to get away from him and that only seemed to infuriate him even more.

"Oh you think I'm going to let you get away so easily Y/n?...leaving me and slutting around with that fucking prince. HOW DARE YOU!?"

You blinked and saw him draw a blade, You let out a loud scream and you turned to run from him. 

Dio was in a blind jealous rage, It was clear why Isabel left. 

He wasn’t treating her right at all, so when she found comfort in her friend, Prince Kujo, she took it. She fell for someone better, and it seemed like history was repeating itself with you.

And Dio wasn’t going to let this happen again.

Dio grabbed your hand and swung his knife, plunging the knife into your shoulder, You could feel yourself crumple to the ground. You cried out in pain and hit the ground, other guests now starting to scream and run away from the male.

“Y/n!” You could hear Jotaro shout from the crowd but you couldn’t really focus due to the pain from your shoulder, and Dio gripping your hair and forcing you up.

“I refuse to lose another one! I refuse to allow another one of my pets, LEAVE, for that stupid fucking joestar prick.” Dio leaned down and placed the blade against your neck.

“My little y/n…”

You felt tears welling in your eyes as he pressed it closer to your neck.

“Say hello to Isabel for me…”

You braced yourself for your neck to be slit only to have nothing come. You cracked open your eyes and saw Jotaro on top of Dio, fighting him.

You could hear Dio yell in pain, and Jotaro grunt in anger, the noises of punches flying was really starting to get drowned out by the relentless thumping of your head.

You couldn’t really understand anything because of how weak you felt, and you laid flat against the floor. Evan quickly came over to help you, pressing on the wound to stop the bleeding. 

You gave her a weak smile. Evan looked down at you worried, that emotion only sparking with your next sentence.

"I'm starting to get sleepy.." "No no! No sleeping Y/n!"

Evan struggling to keep you awake as she constantly shook you, the blood staining your dress and dripping to the floor..

“Come on Y/n! Stay awake!” You could barely register the blonde as your vision started to get blurry, you could hear another set of footsteps coming over and you were quickly scooped up from the ground and in strong arms.

Your head leaned back and you could make out the figure to be Jotaro, He was cursing to himself as he quickly carried you out. 

The prince was jittering, he didn’t want anything to happen to you at all. He was scared, an emotion that he rarely felt. He should’ve never left your side, he should’ve known that Dio was going to pull a stunt like this.

He’s done this before.

But this time, Jotaro refused to let you die on him.

He couldn’t lose the one he loved to the same male again.

—------------------------------------

You could barely remembered what transpired, Your eyes fluttered open and you saw the Queen hovering over you carefully. She gasped and quickly whisper yelled for Evan and her son.

Holly grabbed your hand and sighed in relief. “I’m so glad you’re okay darling…” She says and you gave her a weak smile.

She placed a hand on your forehead, before going to remove the covers to allow you to sit up.

Glancing over at the mirror, you saw the ugly stitches that were covering your shoulder.

“Lord Dio vanished after the attack on you…similar to what he did to Isabel. But unlike with Isa, I doubt he’s coming back” Holly explained and you nodded, a hand tracing the stitches, wincing as you applied slight pressure on the wound.

Evan and Jotaro soon came in and Evan ran up to you and hugged you, being mindful of your scar. “Oh thank god..thank god you’re okay” She started. “I don’t think I can deal with whiny Prince Kujo any longer.” She joked, earning a smack on the back of the head from the male.

She moved out of the way so that Jotaro could hold you, and Holly smiled at the two of you, “Me and Evan will give you two some privacy..” She makes a motion for Evan to follow her as she leaves the bedroom.

The silence between you and Jotaro is deafening at first, before he moves to place a soft kiss on your forehead.

“I almost lost you..” He mumbles and you bring a hand up to his cheek.

“But you didn’t…” You reply and he gives you a soft, yet pained smile.

Jotaro moves to hold you in his arms, he pressed you so close to his chest, almost afraid that if he lets go you’re going to vanish from his life.

“When I saw you on that ground…I saw images of Isabel flash before my eyes…I couldn’t let history repeat itself…” He says as he runs his hands along your back.

“I freaked out so bad, So I just picked you up and ran, Evan was struggling to keep up. I was just focused on saving you.” 

You listened to Jotaro, feeling his chest begin to shake, when you looked up, you could see the tears dripping down the prince's face. 

“God I thought I was going to lose the love of my life again…I couldn’t take it. Evan, Pucci and several others had to pull me off the bastard. I wanted him dead. Rumor has it he’s run off somewhere…with his damaged ego.”

You snuggled into Jotaro as he spoke. It was rare when the Prince spoke this much, so as bad as the situation was, you found yourself comforted by his voice.

“Jojo..”

Jotaro looked down at you, “Yes?” You reached a hand up to place a kiss on his lips, your hips slowly moving against his, as if this was going to be the last time.

Jotaro returned the soft kiss, interlacing his extra hand with yours.

In your head you were safe for now, you knew for center if Dio decided to show his damn face around, then he would be done.

And for once…

You feel loved…You feel so special…

—--------------------------------------------------------------

Thank you for reading! I apologize if the ending wasn’t what you really expecting, it’s because I plan to do a spin off series with this Universes Dio!

Now that this main series is over, the next series I will be working on is Turbulence, and I have another oneshot song fic I will be releasing soon! I hope you all enjoy! <3

[obxone]

Protecting Her (Part 2)

Unedited-- ~1.3k words.

Master Page

Morning brings the achy sensation to the front of your mind, and your entire body screams in protest. You groan, burying your head into the pillow to try to muffle any noise of pain you are tempted to make.

The touch of his hand on your back as he leans over you, startles you. "Hey, hey. You are safe, okay?"

You nod once before lifting your head to look at him. "Everything hurts."

He frowns, reaching to grab the pain medication off his nightstand. After passing you two more and the water, he picks up his phone to send a text before meeting your gaze again. You swallow down the pills before tipping your head in curiosity.

"Everything okay?" You ask. Worry floods you that something has gone very wrong with you coming here.

"Fine." But then he frowns with a huff when he realizes you will not accept that simple word as the answer. "My dad is on his way back, and Sarah told him about last night, so he is checking in."

You frown, looking away while pulling his comforter closer to your chest. "How bad do I look?"

If you are facing the world this soon, you want to prepare for how badly you look.

"You look like you."

"Don't lie to me... please."

Rafe stares at you before shaking his head once. "You look like you had an accident."

You roll your eyes at him.

"Are you hungry?" He sits beside you. "I have to run an errand for my dad and can get you something to eat."

"French toast?"

He smiles. "All right, Princess. French toast coming up."

You roll your eyes before shoving him away. “What time is it?”

“Early.” He moves closer despite your shove. “I'll be back. Stay in bed."

“Well, I can't exactly walk,” you mumble. His touch is gentle when he turns your face to look at the bruise that now blooms across your jaw and up to your cheek.

“He’s lucky I wasn't there.”

You frown before reaching up to cover his hand with yours. “He'll sober up and try to apologize."

"Fuck his apology. You deserve better than that."

A slight blush colors your face, and your heart clenches at the emotions shining in his eyes. But the moment is short-lived when he clears his throat and stands abruptly. Your hand falls into your lap, but your gaze stays on him. He pulls his ballcap on without looking at you. "Stay put, okay? Rest."

“Yes, sir."

He turns to stare at you after you mock him, a darker look now in his ocean-blue eyes. “Careful,” he murmurs, dragging those haunting eyes over you. He clears his throat, trying to ignore the thoughts running through his mind about you sitting in his bed and wearing his hoodie. A smile tugs at the corner of his lips before he steps back. "Call me if you need me."

“I didn't bring my phone. I kind of just ran..."

"Sarah has one, and so does Topper."

"Okay."

“I'll be back soon.”

And then he is gone. You sigh, slipping deeper into his bed, and curl up as you try to ignore the flashbacks of the previous night.

The next time you wake, Sarah is climbing into the bed with you. "Good morning." Her voice is quiet as her fingers smooth down your hair. "How are you feeling?"

You groan, wincing as you shift to lay on your back to look at her. "Like I got ran over by a semi."

She frowns, brushing your hair back from your face. "Where's Rafe?"

"Ran into town, he'll be back."

She nods, glancing around the room briefly. "Did you sleep okay?"

"As best I could," you murmur, touching her hand when she touches your bruised face. "What about you?"

She smiles a little. "Good. Top is getting me juice. Would you like some?"

"Sure," you lift yourself into a sitting position. You frown, pulling the hoodie sleeves down over your hands to hide the damage on your wrist and cuts on your hands. "Do you think you could help me to the bathroom?"

"Of course." She gets out of bed before reaching to help you. You grasp her hand, and a sharp gasp escapes when you stand on your feet. Your entire body feels like it is on fire, and you wobble unsteadily.

"Whoa! Whoa!" Topper enters the room with two glasses of orange juice. He quickly sets them down before reaching for you. "What do you think you're doing?!"

"I have to pee, Top!" You whine, gripping his upper arm. "Are you going to help me, or do I have to drag myself across Rafe's floor to get there?"

He chuckles before nodding. "I got you, Little Holden."

"Oh god," you groan, and he laughs with Sarah. He starts to lift you, but you press your hand to his chest to stop him. "I want to walk, just... support me?"

He nods, his arm wrapping around your waist as you slowly make your way to the bathroom. Your entire body feels like it has been obliterated, but you have to do this for yourself, you know you do.

After finishing, you open the bathroom door with a push and look out to find Rafe waiting in the room with the others. He is talking with Topper, his expression serious. Sarah looks up from her phone and straightens from where she lounges on his bed.

"Rafe," you breathe in relief, and he smiles a little at your reaction to his return. You try to walk, but freeze and hiss looking down at your leg. The cut under your knee burns, and you know you are one false move from it bleeding all over again.

"You're lucky you do not need stitches," Topper mutters, moving forward, but Rafe beats him to it. His large hands wrap around you as he guides you out of the bathroom.

"Do you think you can make it downstairs to eat?" He asks. "My dad and Rose are back. Wheezie is here too."

You shake your head, panic clawing up your throat. "I can't...I don't want them to see me like this." Your hands tighten on Rafe's arm. "Especially not Wheezie. Please don't..."

"Okay, all right, you don't have to," he reassures you. "Let's get you in the bed, all right?"

"Okay," you answer as he helps you to the bed before you sink into the plush depths. "You should go to breakfast, I'm fine here."

Sarah frowns, but Topper pulls her hand. "Let's give her some time, okay?"

"Yeah, okay," she murmurs, squeezing his hand as he leads her out of the room. Rafe glances at the door before turning to you.

"You need to eat."

You frown, looking at your hands. "I don't want to be seen right now..."

"All right," he soothes, his gaze sympathetic as he watches you for a moment. "I'll get the French toast and bring it up here for you."

"Thank you."

----

"Son," Ward says as he watches you with a worried look on his face. "She should have gone to the hospital."

You shake your head and tighten your grip on your water glass. "Mr. Cameron-"

"Ward, Sweetie." He corrects with a smile full of pity. "We've talked about this."

"Ward," you correct. "I refused the hospital. I don't want anyone to see me like this. It was an accident..."

Rafe's head whips around, and he stares at you with a fire in his eyes. You ignore him and keep your attention on Ward.

"Sweetheart," Ward sighs. "You don't have to cover for him anymore."

You exhale, looking away, and tears sting your eyes.

"Dad..."

Ward holds up his hand to stop Rafe. "He stopped by this morning."

"What?!" You look at Ward and then Rafe in alarm now. Rafe huffs, shaking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose. He had kept that from you.

"It's okay, Sweetie," Ward continues to reassure you. "Rafe and I handled it. He's not coming here again, ever."

You exhale, hand ruffling your hair as you try to ignore the sting of tears.

"You are welcome to stay here as long as you like. Dr. Thornton will be by shortly to check on you."

"Aunt Cynthia?" You ask, wiping your fingers over your cheeks to dry the tears. "She knows too?"

"Top told her," Rafe responds, his hand brushing yours. "Dad... I think she's had enough."

"Yes," he agrees and takes a step back. "Rafe will get you anything you need, okay?"

"Thank you, Mr. Cameron."

He shakes his head with a smile. "Ward, please."

"Ward." You repeat back, and he winks before going and closing the door. "Rafe?"

"Yes?"

"Would you stay with me for a while?" You fidget with his hoodie sleeves. "Just until I fall asleep?"

"Sure, Holden, I'll stay." His arm wraps around you, pulling you into his side. "Get some rest, you need it." His lips press to your temple, and you close your eyes, snuggling into him.

"What happened?" You ask after a moment. "When he came by?" You do not have to open your eyes to know he is frowning already.

"He showed up, demanded you come home, and we told him no."

"No?" You ask and open your eyes to look at him. You frown when you can tell he does not want to answer because that is not the full truth.

"He tried to come into the house. He said some awful things," Rafe tries to figure out how best to word the explosion that happened while you were sleeping. "I threatened to kill him if he ever lays a hand on you again."

You bite your lip and look away. Rafe's fingers brush your jaw before he exhales. He had been so grateful that you had slept through it. Sarah had stood outside the bedroom door as a second layer of protection, and she had said she heard everything.

"I meant it. I will take care of you from anyone who tries to hurt you again, all right? Including your father."

"I believe you," you murmur before meeting his gaze. You lean up and press your lips to his jaw. "Thank you."

He nods once before pressing his forehead to yours. "Rest, please. Dr. Thornton said you need to rest so your body can heal."

"Okay," you relent and slip down into the depths of his bed. He watches you. His touch is soothing as he brushes his fingers over you.

----

Aunt Cynthia sits beside you, her touch gentle as she examines the bruise on your face. "That bastard," she snaps before retracting her hand. "I'm so sorry, Sweetheart."

You shrug, biting your lip as you try not to cry again. Your gaze flickers to Rafe, who leans back against the wall, watching while Sarah sits beside you, and Topper stands by his mother.

"Mom," Topper starts once he sees you are on the verge of crying, but she waves him away.

She leans over and presses a kiss to your temple before standing. "You need to rest, I'll put in a prescription for pain medication to help with the soreness. You need to stay hydrated and try to start walking now that you are stitched up," she instructs as she gathers her bag. "Someone will need to help you for a bit."

"Thank you, Aunt Cynthia." You whisper and glance at Sarah when she shifts beside you. "Topper or Rafe can help me down to the car."

"No," she says with a shake of her head. "You are staying here for now. I'll explain to Ward and Rose, okay?"

Relief washes over you, and your smile before shifting your attention to Rafe. He is watching you with his hands stuffed into his pockets.

"I'll update Ward and Rose," Cynthia states as she stands, not missing the way you look at Rafe for one second. "Topper, Gatorade would be best for her. Can you get some for her?"

Topper nods while turning to Sarah.

"I can stay here," she offers.

"Sarah, Sweetie," Cynthia turns to her. "She needs to rest."

You frown, tightening your hand around Sarah's briefly before she squeezes your hand back and goes. The door shuts, and you huff while examining the nine stitches across the skin below your knee.

"I should move to Sarah's room or a guest room, so you can have your room back," you whisper, glancing around Rafe's room. "I did not mean to steal your room for this long."

"You are staying," he says without hesitation. "As long as you need."

"Are you sure?"

He crosses the room to sit next to you. His hand is warm on yours, and you turn your hand to press your palm to his. "I'm sure."

"I'll never be able to repay you for this," you whisper. "I always thought you hated me, but you've been so different since I showed up." You look up at him from your hands touching. "Trauma bonding at its finest," you joke, but he does not laugh. "Thank you, Rafe, for everything."

He smiles then, his eyes lighting up before he removes his hand and stands. "I'll check on what my dad needs and make sure that Topper gets the Gatorade. Get some sleep, okay?"

You nod, and he leans over to press his lips to your temple. You close your eyes, and your hand brushes up his arm before he is gone.

(Part 3)

[lostcauses-noregrets]

Hi! I like to read your opinions about eruri, and I like this vast sight you have being there for years. In 2021 – at the very end of the story I started to appreciate in 2015 – I decided to re-watch it and came across a fanart of Erwin and Levi together as a couple (I've never entered the fandom "circles" before, tbh). Well, when I read the manga /watched the anime for the first time, I had an "impression" about their relationship. I never gave them much thought as I was firstly and mostly an Armin supporter and I basically followed the first three seasons because I needed to know what the fuck was going on and I needed to see Armin reach the damn ocean.

Erwin was a character I strongly appreciated given his will to sacrificing his own and his soldiers' lives, his death really touched me though I was relieved that Armin still had a chance to reach his dream.

I didn't really like Levi until the uprising arc, I didn't understand his motivation until I watched No Regrets (I watched it after finishing s3p1). When he first appeared in the story I felt strange about his and Erwin's relationship: Erwin was the Commander but Levi acted freely around him, even disrespecting him, and after a couple of episodes he was "I'll obey Sir". Levi was close with Hanji but even closer with the Commander, and Erwin only spoke "as a peer" to Pixies and Zachary (sometimes) and Levi most of the time.

The "woah" moment was after the uprising arc: Erwin planning rts and Levi begging him to stay safe home, an absurd request tbh: Not Hanji, nor any other Squad Leader proposed anything like that; the Commander had to be there, because he's trusted and more importantly because he represents the SC. So, Levi? This not only was "odd" from a (I'll say) militaristic point of view, but Levi there acted really emotionally. At this point of the story we have seen his more emotional side, we've seen him angry and concerned, but not to this extent.

Then, rts. Levi giving Erwin a reassuring speach, making the choice on his behalf, commanding him to his death. And Erwin's relieved smile, his "Thank you". This was a peak moment, it showed complete trust (we also knew that Levi trusted Erwin completely, but the other way around is truly showed here), it showed the deep comprehension Levi has about the Commander, it showed Levi's ability to sacrifice his own feelings for what's best for humanity and Erwin.

The serum-bowl was just the culmination of it. It was the "emotional" side of Levi's previous logical choice. He wants to save Erwin so badly there, and not because he is the Commander, but because he didn't want him to die in the first place (Levi's egoistic feeling). He's about to give him the serum, the choice is made, and it is the best choice for humanity, the choice Hanji and other Commanders would make, the choice that will take Erwin back (and it's so clear that this is what Levi wants). But at the very end, Levi changes his mind, not out of any logical reason, or rational thought. He decides to let his friend rest because it'd be the best choice for Erwin and Erwin alone (or at least, in Levi's understanding of him).

Last but not least, Erwin's death affected Levi terribly. I usually dislike "revenge arc", but his was so well built and motivated that I appreciated it. His promise is the only fuel left to Levi to moves forward. It's a sad and heartbreaking end, but it puts emphasis on the importance of his relationship with Erwin.

Re-watching AoT gives you the possibility to focus on its nuances; it's a complex story and for people like me (not usually interested in the romance, but in the most dynamic and action side) it's easy to miss some details.

I personally like the absence of huge romantic sub-plot. I like how the relationships between the characters are described trough little details, ways of talking to each other, choices that can be read as ambiguous at some times. Or, this is true for the "adults", the 104th are kids and mostly act like kids "repressed" by their military role and the cruel circumstances of their world.

When it comes to Hanji, Miche, Moblit, Levi, Erwin, it's different. They are soldiers and put duty beyond their personal feelings. I love how their relationships are built. And I do consider Erwin and Levi relationship one of the strongest in AoT, and one of the most healthy too. Forgetting the hcs, the theories, or even what VAs, animators etc said, I think that it's undeniable the depth of their bond, and the fact that it is - at least - platonic love. To me it's clear as the sky that Levi loved Erwin (not necessarily in a sexual way) and it's clear that he was reciprocated, in a more subtle way because Erwin is a character literally broken by his guilt, split between his selfish side and his selfless one.

The rest of it is mostly hc, though some theories really are plausible and I love the fanon exploration of them trough fics and fanarts.

This long post just because I wanted to express what to me it's a fact and not a theory, that in the complex and not so easy identification and classification of what a relationship between two humans is, that between Erwin and Levi falls in the large range of "Love". And not the love and affection one usually has for a dear friend. It's deeper, it's familiar. It's the bond you have with someone you want to become family with. (Just to mention, Mikasa's "you're family" it's so powerful to me, it's a good choice of words that Eren misunderstood imo). This is why I don't feel the need (tough I like the fun, absolutely) of searching proofs and making up scenarios of a love story that is just there. I don't need Isayama to state that Levi and Erwin would have gotten married, circumstances permitting. They already have a strong, dedicated and wholesome bond that accompanied Erwin to his last, painful years and gave him peace at the very end; and complimentary, the same bond gave Levi hope and aim when he needed it and – sadly – affected him so badly that he lived so many years in grief (maybe all his remaining years). Tell me this is not what a loving relationship/marriage looks like.

If you reached the end of my essay, thank you xD I'd like to read what you think of it. Bye!!

Thank you so much for sharing this Anon ♡  There’s honestly very little I can add to this. You’ve expressed eloquently why Erwin and Levi’s relationship is so important and so compelling. Regardless of shipping, their relationship, and the bond of  trust they share, is pivotal to the story, particularly from the Uprising Arc onwards.

One of the things I’ve always loved about SnK, which you’ve touched on here, is that Isayama is actually very good at writing compelling, and compellingly complex, adult relationships. Like you said, we don’t need any other “proof” of the depth of Erwin and Levi’s relationship, it’s all there in black and white in the manga. The supplementary materials, the guidebooks, the interviews, the Smartpass stories all add colour but they don’t change the fundamental nature of their relationship. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, this to me is what a deeply committed adult relationship looks like.  It needs no more elaboration. 

Thank you again for sharing your essay Anon, I really appreciate reading your thoughts and I’m sure many other fans will too.

[just-a-silly-little-whumper]

Swaying

Masterpost | Read on Ao3

The grass sways and the clouds shift. Altair's heart stays firm.

For @whumpril Day 4: Swaying

Contains: Angst, captivity, crying

~~~

The grass was swaying gently in the breeze. It stretched on across rolling hills, only stopped by the forest in the distance. The only sound was the soft birdsong that rang across the air. The sunlight was warm and the air was fresh and everything was peaceful.

Altair drank in the feeling of Elze’ith’s fingers intertwined with his, of Elze’ith’s head rested on his shoulder as they laid in the grass and watched the clouds roll by. It seemed so important. He didn’t know why. Everything was fine. But he knew that this was precious.

“I’m so glad we can spend our days like this,” he murmured, barely louder than the wind. “I love you so much, my dear. I never want this to end.”

Elze’ith only hummed in response, but it was a contented hum. Right. Elze’ith couldn’t speak. But that was alright. As long as Elze’ith was safe and happy, Altair didn’t mind if he never spoke again. Besides, between his notebook and the bond thrumming in the back of their minds, they had everything they needed to communicate.

The clouds drifted by lazily. The grass continued to sway and dance like the waves of an ocean of life. Elze’ith squeezed his hand. Altair squeezed back. “I love you,” he whispered, because it felt important to say it again. “I love you. I’m glad we’re here.”

Elze’ith sighed and nuzzled closer, warm and solid at Altair’s side. Altair couldn’t imagine ever being far from him. But he didn’t have to, because Elze’ith was right here, and nothing could hurt them.

Elze’ith’s breathing evened out; he must be going to sleep. Altair closed his eyes too. Out here, in the sun and wind, sleep sounded like the perfect thing. The gently swaying grass and singing birds would keep them company as they dreamt.

Altair woke up slowly. He was asleep, and then, gradually, he wasn’t. The warmth of the sun faded, the air went still, the vibrant grass vanished. Even Elze’ith’s steady presence at his side evaporated, like he had never been there at all. All that was left was cold, stagnant air and hard stone beneath him. When Altair opened his eyes, it was dark, and his entire body ached, and he was alone.

It shouldn’t have hurt so much. It was only a dream, and such a simple dream at that. Nothing had really changed. But grief still clenched at Altair’s heart, and he curled tighter around himself in a futile effort to stave off the wave of emotion. Tears pricked the backs of his eyes, and though he desperately tried to blink them away, a few still fell onto the stone beneath him.

There was no sunlight to keep them warm. No clouds or swaying grass to watch. No Elze’ith to keep him company. They weren’t free. He was still trapped, still alone. And it hurt. It hurt so much that his chest heaved and his body shook and it took several long moments for him to collect himself. Because after that taste of peace, of freedom, as illusory as it was, he didn’t know how he would face this wretched hell again.

And yet. As much as it hurt, he clung to the fading memory of the dream. Because it was a reminder of what could be. There was an entire world outside this castle, and somewhere out there was the place where they could live peacefully and happily. He wanted it so badly, wanted a quiet future for himself and for Elze’ith, and he knew it was possible, if only they could survive and escape. They had already come so far. As difficult as it was, as hopeless and grim as it felt, Altair couldn’t let this, or anything else, keep them from their future.

[redhead-writes]

Another day to survive

Starting this year off with some angstier stuff and also me making Bradley as asshole again as @pollyna says. Was inspired by the dagger squads first meeting in the Hard Deck.

Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd had a front seat in lovers or ex lovers tiff in Hard Deck bar. He put his money on the second one. Both men had absolute disregard for each other's feelings. They wanted to hurt the other as deeply as possible. Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw had hit the nerve and so Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin backed away, and slipped out.

Hangman hasn’t been kindest to him just a few minutes ago but if this is what the pilot is carrying around. Well, this could end badly for all of them in the sky. Also Bob could relate to Hangman. His break up with ex wasn’t the cleanest. He still carried reminders of it and nightmares that plagued his sleeping hours. Maybe helping Hangman could help him. With that thought in mind he ordered whiskey on rocks for Hangman, that seemed to sooth Wolfman’s nerves. Possibly it will work on this Texas boy, too.

Robert found Jake sitting on the beach, looking into the dark ocean. Hangman looked up when Bob came to stand up next to him, stretching out hand with glass in it to the sitting man. “That seemed rough and I think you need this to soothe your nerves,” said Bob, offering the glass. Jake looked at him in distrust. “I didn’t poison it, if you are afraid of that. It seems to help one Texas man I know, so I thought it would help you, too.”

“Sorry! Not used to people being kind to me.” Jake told Bob, taking the glass gratefully. He took a sip from glass and felt the whiskey warmth spreading through his body, soothing his frazzled nerves. Bradshaw really did get him good this time. Jake really was puzzled how he loved this man once. “Thanks for the drink! You should not have done it.”

“Nahh…I really should have. No one should be dealing with an arsehole ex alone. Even if you yourself are a piece of work.”

“How did….How did you know?” quietly asked Jake, taking another sip. Bob plopped down next to Hangman

“I believe our whole squad knows. Simply, I have my own ugly break up and I would not want to work with my ex. Not that he will be allowed to work for a long time. Still you need more people in your corner than only Coyote.”

“Thank you again! Still this won’t change the way I act when the others are around.”

“Wouldn’t want it any other way, Hangman. But be ready to get back as good as you give.”

“You are on, Bob.” answered Jake, using his huge megawatt smile on Robert.

Then came a shout of two older men's voices: “BOBBY!” They sounded happy to have spotted the man. Then this huge doberman pinscher attacked Robert, licking his face like there is no tomorrow.

“Bono! Stop, Bono.” Bobby tried to get through his laughs. “Yes, I missed you too, buddy.” Doberman seemed to turn his attention to Jake as did the two older men that were coming closer to them.

“Jake, this is my dog Bono. He is an ex-K9 but generally he is the sweetest boy ever.” said Bob, petting the dog who has sat down in front of  Robert. “Those two loud shouters are commanders Leonard ‘Wolfman’ Wolfe - Neven and Rick ‘Hollywood’ Neven - Wolfe. I am living in their house because…”

“Because we are protective bastards of our favorite WSO. Happy to see you have made friends already, Bobby.” Wolfman finished Bob’s sentence, coming into the light that was coming from the bar with Hollywood's arm over his shoulders. Hangman could gap as fish out of the water.

“Happy to still have that effect on younger pilots.” said Hollywood who chuckled at the blonde pilot whose eyes were shining. “I thought everyone had forgotten about our class of Top Gun.”

“Holly here likes to be praised constantly. But what is your name, boy?”

It made the pilot jump up from his sitting position and salute two men. These were legends in front of him. Robert was slower to get up and Bono also now had gotten on all four.

“Lieutenant Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin, sirs.”

“Ahhh…can I hear the Texan there?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Bobby, I see your taste in men has gotten better. Knew that living with us would rub off on you.” chuckled Rick. That got both Leonard and Bob punching him in the shoulders. Bono just barked at him. “No one appreciates my jokes. I feel betrayed.” Hollywood said, acting hurt by these events. No surprise about his callsign really. Rick took one look at Robert and softened. The younger man still hadn’t fully recovered from the break up. “Let’s get to the car, Robert. Allow Texan men to chat for some time.”

Wolfman looked the younger man up and down. Calculating if he could ask this favor from this man in front of him. He for sure would not ask Bradley because the boy had cut ties with all of them. Robert was too fragile to be trusted in the hands of a man who needs therapy for the last 20 years. Bobby seemed to trust this man but the lieutenant in front of him had cocky energy about himself.

“Can I ask something from you, Lieutenant Seresin?” asked Leonard, taking a gamble here. He wasn’t like Maverick but this time he will need to trust his gut and Robert’s judgment.

“Of course, Sir!”

“Keep an eye on Bobby for me and Rick. We can’t be there for him while he is training. I don’t know how much he has talked about his break up with you.”

“Only that it was a nasty one. I myself am going through one.” That made Wolfman look at the younger man again, finding similarities with Bobby.

“Hmmm…let me guess Bradshaw?”

“Are you all like psychics?”

“No, simply we are good at reading people. Comes in handy when you work with young pilots who think hiding stuff from you will get them further. So will you keep an eye on Robert for us?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Here will be my card. There is also adresse of our house. If you need someone to talk with, we are here for that, too. We have enough life experience.”

With that Wolfman turned around, going back to his family. He was happy that someone would keep an eye on Bobby while in training. Now Leonard understood Pete better than he did before.

It has been a tiring training session as all of them seemed to be. Jake had spent an extra 30 minutes under the hot running water. Those 30 minutes was exactly what he needed. He came into the dressing room to face someone's back that was covered in two long scars. They looked perfectly straight, making Hangman’s stomach churn. They still looked so fresh. All things he was carrying tumbled out of his arms, cluttering loudly in the silence of the dressing room. Other man turned out to reveal his identity. It was Robert who had pressed his back to the locker, trying to blend in with it.

“Bobby?” choked out Jake. After their conversation on the beach, Jake had been an avid visitor of the Wolfe-Neven household. Wolfman made mean ribs like back at home. Also Leonard gave him one of his cowboy hats from the collection because how there can be Texan without a hat here. Robert and Bono also seemed to be warming up to Jake. Bono allowed Jake to play with him while Bob laughed in the background when Jake lost to Bono in the tug war. Hangman had found a place to call home away from home. Now he knew why Wolfman wanted him to keep an eye on this man. Some pieces clicked in Hangman’s mind. “Did…did your ex do that to you?” The other man just nodded, still acting as wallpaper to the locker.

“Will you tell everyone?”

“No, oh God, no. Bobby, you have to know me better than this now. But I would like to know what happened? I have to know who to keep an eye for.”

“I know you, Jake, I do. Fear sometimes is too much.”

“Then let’s get you to safety. Will get dressed and call Leonard to have your fave food on the ready.” 

Bono was by the passenger door when they got to the house. Jake helped Robert out of the car. Bob still was weak from the anxiety attack he had in the locker room. Jake had wrapped him in a blanket even if it was summer outside. He hasn’t told anyone except Wolfman, Hollywood and navy police about what happened. Wolfman had talked with Admiral Kazansky so this accident wouldn’t cause trouble for his career. Next thing Bob knew he was assigned to this mission at Top Gun. He was grateful for two older men. He had to keep paying for his grandma's old people's home.

“We shall eat first and then we can talk.” said Hangman, helping Bob inside the house. Bono close by, not leaving his owner's side. 

Jake and Leonard got Bobby to eat and drink some gatorade. Bob has ended trembling from shock. Bono and Robert led Jake to the deck that went out to the lovely garden. Leonard made himself scarce. He had to go to Icemavs house for their annual dinner. Hollywood is going to meet him here. Now he trusted Jake. The boy has proved to be a good addition to their weird trio and also helping Bobby to be more calm. 

Robert and Jake sat down in lounge chairs. Bono laid down between both chairs to support both men. Bob sighed and started talking: “My ex-boyfriend was my pilot. Dustin, some admiral's son that never faced consequences from his actions. Daddy saving his arse every time. He was not the first pilot I flew with but the first one I clicked with. I know you don’t know that feeling because you are too individualistic. Hollywood was the one who pushed for us to be put together. Wolfman was more cautious, something bothering him but then we proved to be an amazing team in the air. So he backed up, that is what I thought but he ain’t called Wolfman for nothing. After a few months of dancing around each other we started to date. I thought he was in love with me, I really did Jake. Holly and Wolf knew about us.” Jake turned in his chair to look at Robert. The younger man looked so tortured right now that it made the blonde man reach out and squeeze Robert’s hand.. Hangman opened mouth to say something but Bob continued on with his story. “So Bono came into my life after a month of relationship with Dustin. Leo gifted me this ex-K9 dog that didn’t allow my boyfriend to get close to me. Bono had to live outside the house when Dustin was around which started making me suspicious. So one day Dustin left my housing and I let Bono in the house. He straight up went to the closet used by Dustin and scraped at the doors.”

Jake thought he had an idea what exactly Bono, ex-K9 dog could have found in the closet of Dustin’s but he had to allow Robert to tell it at his own pace without distractions. He only gave a squeeze to Bob’s hand, knowing that the hardest part is coming. The part where Bobby got the scars from his ex-boyfriend. Bradley had left scars on his heart but remembering what Robert said when they sat on the beach.It seemed like a kids game.

“So I found these bags and bags of pills in my housing closet. I knew that Bono’s reaction said those were some kind of drugs. I called Wolfman when bedroom doors opened and Dustin walked in. He stuck Bono in the bathroom. There was nothing left of the man I loved and only then I realized it. I tried to talk him into going to therapy and telling Wolfman himself. He just laughed in my face. I knew it was no use so I tried to run but he caught me, pinning me to the floor. He used the knife I gave him on our first anniversary to cut those lines. He said he wants to play tick tack toe on my back. When he finished the second line, Wolfman hit Dustin over the head with something heavy. That is what Hollywood told me. I didn’t ask for details. Hollywood sat with me in the hospital and they even allowed Bono in so I would feel safer because I didn’t believe anyone could keep Dustin in jail. Rick still feels so guilty over all this happening. I don’t blame him. Wolfman was the only one who saw through it all. Can you imagine he tried to frame me with him because pills were found in my housing? But whatever string Leonard pulled they gave me a restraining order, Dustin in jail at least for now and me away from Lemoore for now.”

“Do you think he will get out of jail soon enough?”

“Oh yeah, his dad will make sure of it. Here I am under Iceman so he or his father can’t touch me here. I know and have heard some of Wolf's convos they are digging under his dad and Cain. I believe this will end soon enough and I will finally feel safe.”

“I really hope you will, Bobby.”

After their talk, Jake did his own research to know his enemy better. It was his side quest in this mission. He promised to keep an eye on Bob and he can’t do that without knowing Dustin by face. Jake also had a talk with Leonard and Rick while Robert wasn’t at home not to worry him more. Hangman also got Javy to help him keeping an eye for Bobby. He knew his bestie would not ask too many questions for now. Jake promised to tell everything when time was right. Then both him and Robert had caught sight of Dustin in Hard Deck. It could have been someone similar to him, but Jake was not taking risks. Hangman had called Wolfman who had come with Bono and took Bobby away. Phoenix had this confused look on her face because when has her WSO become so close with Bagman. She will need to grill him. Then the day after the bird strike, he had seen Bradley talking with some man by his Bronco. This moment didn’t leave Jake’s mind. He wasn’t jealous anymore, he had gotten over Rooster along the way.

They had been back on land for two days. Robert’s grandma was going to visit Top Gun to see her grandson being awarded for successful suicide mission. Also the Mrs. Floyd wanted to meet this mysterious Hangman who had brought back her boys' laugh and smile. Hollywood was sent out to get Mrs. Floyd while Wolfman helped at the Top Gun. To be honest, Wolfman and Iceman were putting together the last bits of evidence against Dustin’s father and Cain but no one should know that for now.

The Dagger Squad was all present in Hard Deck, except Bob which had Jake ansty. He had talked with Robert and he was on his way. He had to be already here. Javy and Nat also were looking at the doors of the bar. Bob had told both pilots his story so Team Protect Bob had grown by two and Halo also could count in because what Phee knew, knew also Halo. Also Fanboy seemed to be close with Bob which meant both Mikey and Reuben kept eye on everyone's favorite WSO.

“Why are you all so worried about Bob? Probably he has a hot date. This dude had been asking around about him. I told him where to find Bob.” said Bradley and the rest of Dagger Squad's eyes turned to look at the taller man. Jake knew something was wrong about this statement. Wolf would call this Texan secret power and it was tingling right now in Hangman.

“What do you mean you gave a stranger Bob’s adresse, Rooster?” asked Phoenix and Halo at the same time, looking appalled by this disregard of their friends safety and privacy.

“He seemed to know Bob pretty well.”

Hangman pulled up a picture of Robert’s ex, putting phone in front of Rooster's face and asking through gritted teeth: “Did you tell this man Bob’s adresse?”

“Yeah, that is him. What about it, Hangman? Stalking Bob’s conquests. Reaching another low.”

“I could punch you right now, Rooster, but I don’t have time for that. If something fucking happens to Bobby because of you telling this sick bastard where he is, I will let Phoenix and Halo deal with you. You hear me, Rooster.” Jake told the taller man. Then he turned around and went to a bar where Penny was catering to bar patrons. One look at Jake made her reach for the phone.

“Call military police, Wolfman, Iceman, anyone, Penny. Tell them Dustin knows where Bob is. They will get it. I am going there. Also don’t let that chicken follow us. Call Maverick if you need to keep him here.”

“Jake, you are not going alone. We are still a team. You need all the reinforcement you can get. I read Dustin's file.” said Halo, keeping a steady hand on Hangman's biceps.

“Okay! You are driving because I don’t think me or Phoenix can right now.”

“I will get us all there as quickly as possible.”

When we stopped in front of the house, the gun going off made the air around them tremble. Then they heard a deep human howl of pain that didn’t sound like Bob at all. It got Jake in action, sprinting in the house to find Bobby on the floor with blood flowing from his shoulder. While Bono got his teeth in Dustin's arm where the gun had been. Jake got down near Bob’s injury and pushed on it with the hoodie he had worn today, keeping blood from leaving Bob's body. Hangman knew so much was going around them but Robert was his main priority right now.

“Hey, Bobby! Keep your eyes open for me. Only you would survive suicide mission and then get shot on land.”

Bob chuckled quietly but even that made his face scrunch in pain. Even though Bob was in pain, he reached with his good hand and put it on Hangman's cheek.

“From all the assholes I seem to fall in love with, you are the only one who hasn’t fucked up once.”

“Bobby, leave love confessions when you are not bleeding out on Hollywoods fancy carpet.”

“Wolfman will be happy that he finally can throw out this atrocity.”

“He will, he will but he would have been more happy if your blood wasn’t the reason for it. Also don’t forget you have to introduce me to your grandma and the rest of the squad.”

“Jake, the doctors are here.” shouted Javy who let the medics through. Jake was pushed away and helped by Payback to the kitchen where the man made him wash his hands from blood. Bobby was now in the hands of professionals and Dustin was arrested. Then it finally hit him, Bobby had proclaimed his love for him and feelings were mutual from Jake’s side. He didn’t know when it happened but along the way they had mended each other's hearts and fallen along the way. Right now was no time to think about it, right now Jake needed Bobby to survive today and all the days that follow.

[racerchix21]

When the Waters Rise, Take My Hand

Summary: It seems poetic that water would take his life just like it took his boys away. It’s not that Eddie Diaz wants to die it’s just that since the tsunami he’s been a shell of a person.

AKA the one where Eddie has nightmares about the what ifs of the tsunami hitting the pier.

Work Text:

It seems poetic that water would take his life just like it took his boys away. It’s not that Eddie Diaz wants to die it’s just that since the tsunami he’s been a shell of a person. Five years ago today he took his son over to his best friend’s place and went to work thinking it was just a normal Thursday. Five years ago today he lost everything that ever meant anything to him so he today he’s gonna join his boys one way or another.

He creeps closer and closer to the shoreline. He feels the sand give beneath his feet. Feels the water begin to lap at his ankles as he takes the first hesitant step into the water proper. He takes another and another until the water reaches his waist. He holds his hands out in front of him and feels the coolness, lets himself be lulled into a false sense of security by the water.

““To Mom and Dad, I’m sorry I was so weak. Not the son you ever wanted.

To Abuela, Pepa, Adri, Soph, sorry I couldn’t be stronger for you. I love you with everything I have.

To Shannon, I’m sorry I wasn’t the man, the husband, the partner you needed. I’m sorry I fucked us up so badly.

To Christopher, the best thing that ever happened to me. I’m sorry I couldn’t be the father you deserved. I’m gonna join you and Buck real soon buddy.

To Chim & Hen, thank you for being my friends. My family. I loved and appreciated all of it but it’s finally time for me to go join my boys somewhere else.

To Evan, my best friend. The light of my life, I’m sorry I failed you so badly. For forcing you to leave the house with Chris when you didn’t wanna get out of bed.

To Maddie, May & Harry, I’m sorry I took your brother away from you.

To Bobby and Athena, I’m sorry I took your son away from you. If I hadn’t been so stupid and selfish Buck would still be alive.

I’m writing this because you deserve to know how much I blame myself for you guys losing Buck and Chris 5 years ago. If you’re reading this then I’m already gone to see both of them again.

Love,

Eddie “the fuck-up” Diaz””

That’s the letter his family will find when they go through his things after he’s gone. As he lets himself sink into the dark he hopes they can forgive him. Forgive him for not being strong enough to live without Buck or Chris for long. As the ocean pulls him further under with its siren song he thinks he can already hear Buck’s voice calling out to him.

**

“Eddie! Eddie, wake up babe. Come on baby you gotta wake up,” Buck says shaking Eddie’s shoulder. He’d startled awake to Eddie whimpering in his sleep a few minutes before but it wasn’t until he heard his name said that’d he’d truly paid attention. He feels more than sees Eddie come to and immediately throw himself more fully into his chest. He can feel the dampness of Eddie’s chest soaking into his own tshirt and feels the warmth of tears rolling down his neck where Eddie’s face is buried.

Buck wraps an arm around his boyfriend’s waist and rests his free hand across the back of Eddie’s neck to scratch along his hairline. It seems to calm Eddie down enough that he can begin the process of figuring out what kind of fresh hell his psyche was throwing at this time. The more he tries to pull Eddie’s face out of his neck so he can see into his eyes, the more fight he’s given. “Alright baby you can lay here but I’m gonna need you to agree to talk to me at soon, okay?”

“Okay, but not right now,” Eddie mumbles against his neck. If Eddie had it his way they’d never talk about it but he knows how damn stubborn Buck is.

“Yeah baby not right now. Let’s just lay here awhile and when you’re ready I’ll listen,” Buck promises.

“Is Christopher ok,” Eddie asks after a few minutes of neither of them talking. He’s rolled back to his side of the bed but leaves an arm and a leg against Buck.

“Yeah honey he’s tucked away in his bed just down the hall. We made sure he was asleep before we came to bed, remember? He wanted you to read to him just like he did when he was younger. He’s safe and sound and if he needs something he knows where we are,” Buck reassures him. “We can go check on him if it’ll put your mind more at ease.”

“No I trust you Evan. I think I’m ready to talk about it now.”

“Ok so what happened sweetheart? You were whimpering earlier and now you’re asking about where Chris is.”

“It was a nightmare. I was walking into the ocean hoping to die. I could hear all these cruel voices talking about how it was my fault that you and Chris were on the pier when the tsunami hit. I could see the bodies in the water, hear the anguished cries as people helplessly watched loved ones be pulled under and out to sea. I was frozen watching Christopher’s crutches float by stuck on a broken board. I could hear him screaming a mixture of Dad and Buck and I couldn’t do anything to fix it,” Eddie tearfully says. Some part of him wants to burrow back into Buck to reassure himself that Buck is really there and that he’s not some hallucination Eddie’s psyche has made up.

“Baby I promise that if the water starts rising again, you’ll always have my hand to grab onto,” Buck whispers moving to stand up. When he turns to look at Eddie he can’t help but laugh at the confused puppy expression he sees as he holds his hand out for his boyfriend to take, “Come on, Eds. Let’s go look in on Chris and then I promise we’ll come back to bed and I’ll hold you while you fall back asleep or play on your phone.”

“I said I trusted you though when you said he was asleep in his room,” he tries to weakly protest even as he takes Buck’s hand and lets himself be pulled to his feet. “Ev, he’s probably sleeping and we’re gonna wake him up. If we do you’re the one who has to help him fall asleep again.”

“It’s good thing I know how to put my Diaz boys to sleep then isn’t it? I run a hand up and down his back a couple times and hum a little bit and he’ll be out like a light. Besides you and I both know that our kid is too much like you in the regard of being able to sleep through anything. Now come on!”

When Buck goes to open their door, he’s met with his favorite Diaz sleepily staring at him and the other one wrapping himself around his torso. “Hey, Chris what would you say about sleeping in our room tonight? I know you keep saying you’-“

“Yes please!,” Chris exclaims before Buck can even finish his sentence making both men chuckle.

“Alright then my boys off to bed we go,” Eddie says letting go of Buck in favor of leading the way back to bed. He gets Christopher comfortable before leaning over him to give Buck a kiss and a whispered, “Thank you, Evan.”

[mamamittens]

Fun little AU Nikia ideas while I pretend like it's not 2 AM and I should be asleep 😃

Just for clarification, OG Nikia right now is a very introverted elite ranger who lives in a cabin on a mountain in perpetual winter with giant ass wings by nature and a devil fruit to alter her size (whole or in parts).

Summer Isle AU, Nikia is a life guard beach babe who talks to no one because the only change here is she prefers summer and is okay existing around other people lol (Thatch suffers because there's only so many times he can pretend to drown well enough to fool her before he gets slapped clear to Impel Down and he's not scoundrel enough to do it but really wants to be personally saved by an 'angel'). No devil fruit because how you gonna rescue people in the ocean if you're a drowning risk yourself???

Spa AU Nikia where she's got a different devil fruit and doesn't hate the thought of touching strangers so much. So she works in the spas with her 'dream sheep' devil fruit that puts people to sleep with weird (occasionally prophetic) dreams. Hair is a fluffy, curly cloud when active and she kicks like a mule. Still has her wings but they put off cloud vapor like crazy. Very easily blends with clouds when flying.

Mermaid AU Nikia where shes basically half mermaid. Unsure what her wings would be... Either more like fins or covered in feathery filaments. As much as I like moon jellyfish (not sure how I'd accomplish that one specifically), as well as tetras, there's simply no funnier option than flying fish. Though I'd be tempted to do an eel or octopus as well just for shenanigans like stealing things when someone looks away or excessive cuddling for fluff. Preferably something venomous for added danger lol (Thatch would face many fishy allegations and beat none of them in this au).

Star fruit AU where she's still antisocial on the mountain but with a devil fruit that enables her to make stars. Enjoys casting them into the night sky and making her own light, not fond of the dark in this AU. Her eyes have stars in them that glow and she doesn't tell anyone but she can make wishing stars. Sometimes little stars get stuck in her hair and wings cause they don't wash out, they have to be physically removed by hand. For fun, she'll give herself freckles. Thatch gets to suffer from how cute it all is but will not be complaining, most agree with him.

Marine AU where the job market of her island (not the sister Summer and Winter Isles) is so bad the only real paying jobs are civilian contractor for the marine base nearby. Too out of the way to get 'real' Marines but still too close to an important trade route to go unguarded. There's a volcano on the island that's getting closer to blowing every year as the inhabitants scramble to earn enough money to live elsewhere, the government no help at all. Due to the shitty economy and frequent earthquakes, most buildings are especially vulnerable to strong forces, making everyone very nervous when the only real marine on base manages to catch and imprison a pirate. A Whitebeard Commander specifically. Nikia ends up as his guard and openly admits she's just waiting for his crew to arrive before he 'escapes' so her home can remain standing a little longer. Of course, things go awry and she ends up getting pretty badly injured protecting Thatch from the worst of the building falling apart. He can't just let that go, so it looks like she gets to leave sooner than expected. Not sure if she still has wings in this one. I want her to though...

Obligatory O/B/A. She doesn't have a devil fruit in this one, and I run wild with some less porn-specific ideas for how dynamics work. She's an omega but effectively lives as a beta with what I call 'puppy heats' every few months. It's the urge to nest, hoard resources, and occasionally cuddle people she's close to without any real need for sex. So none of that 'slick' or mindless lusting (as fun as it is to read, I'll fully admit). Less severe than full blown heats, hence the odd term. Her cabin is effectively her nest, and she's a bit... Brutal defending it from outside threats, particularly around her heat. Tends to molt before her heat and knows how bad it's going to be by how the molting goes. Lots of sleepy cuddles in this one. And yes, I imagine Thatch has at least strong alpha tendencies if he's not an alpha. I have a type and I'm only a little ashamed about that.