#nice beach of older men

[seixyniaa]

What do you think?.

[coff33andb00ks]

Hazy Days - LN

summary: summer fling, don't mean a thing pairing: lando norris x divorced!reader word count: 3.6k warnings: non-explicit smut (mdni), older woman a.n.: fuck quadrant's summer scope vids song: summer nights from Grease

You're doing it again. It's been over a year now and you're still rubbing your ring finger with your thumb. You're not as quite as surprised when you don't feel the rings, and when you look down you're relieved to see that the pale patch of skin has disappeared. I've got to buy a ring, you think. Because, despite everything, you still feel weird without a ring on that finger.

You give your head a shake. The marriage is over. It was over before it officially began, but the divorce has been finalized for almost a month. The settlement is in your account – it's how you're paying for this spontaneous trip.

You're no longer a married woman. A terrifying thought, even now, when your entire identity for nearly 10 years was wife. And now…

Now you don't know what you are.

So you packed a bag, bought a plane ticket on a whim, and now you're at some seaside hotel in the south of France. You're looking out at the people on the beach, and further out at the yachts dotting the Mediterranean.

A place you've always wanted to visit and now you're frozen in the hotel room, scared to death that you won't enjoy it. Like a decadent dessert you've thought about all day that tastes like an old candy bar when you finally get a bite. Like the new Louboutin pumps you'd wanted for your birthday two years ago that had pinched your toes and you haven't worn since.

You've built this up in your head and now you're afraid it won't live up to your expectations.

Babes, enjoy it. This is gonna be so healing for you.

Your best friend's words ring in your mind and you reach for the phone to call her for more reassurance, then remember the time difference. She loves you, but she won't appreciate a phone call this early unless it's an emergency.

"God, get over it. You're not the only newly divorced woman in the world," you mutter to yourself, turning away from the window to finish dressing. You want to do some exploring, get plenty of photos to share, maybe find a few souvenirs.

Your thumb slides over your ring finger as you exit the hotel a little while later and you sigh, turning back to ask the concierge of a nice jewelry store. When you tell him you're interested in purchasing a ring, he knows the perfect place and soon you're on your way, strolling along the winding streets.

The afternoon sun is hot and you breathe a sigh of relief once you step into the shop. The interior or hushed and you're aware of the clerks' eyes all moving to you. A couple young men at the counter are chatting and laughing, not paying attention to you at all, and you venture further into the shop.

The men are looking at bracelets, and a smartly dressed clerk is more than happy to show you the rings, leading you to a low counter and inviting you to sit in the cushioned chair.

"Oh… No, not anything like a wedding or engagement ring," you say as a tray of sparkling diamond rings is brought out. "I… I recently got divorced and I need something to replace my rings. Something that looks nothing like a wedding ring?"

From behind you, you can hear the two men murmuring, their English accents oddly comforting after three days of hearing only French voices. You finally narrow the selection down to two and are trying to decide when movement out the corner of your eye snags your attention.

It's one of the men, peering at necklaces. You steal a glance at him – handsome, well dressed, a head of dark curls – and look back at the rings when he turns his head, embarrassed to be caught looking.

You're focusing on the rings, trying them on and testing out how they feel against your thumb, when he speaks.

"I think the other one looks better."

Jerking your head up, you find yourself looking into a pair of brilliant green eyes.

It's so fucking unfair that his lashes are so pretty.

"Do you?" you ask, looking back at the rings.

"Yeah – unless you want something flashy?"

He's moved close enough you can smell his cologne.

He even smells divine. So fucking unfair.

You switched rings and nodded. "Flashy isn't really me… I'll take this one," you tell the clerk.

The man smiles. "Getting used to a ring?"

"Ah… No," you chuckle. "Can't get used to not having one."

His smile dies and a look of panic flashes over his face. "Um… Sorry?"

You almost laugh. Giving your head a shake, you watch the clerk wrap the ring and wait for her to return. "Don't be."

"Oh," he murmured, smile returning and sliding into a grin. "Congratulations, then."

This time you do laugh. "Thanks."

He gives you a look as the clerk returns, and before you can reach for your wallet he's already handing over his card. You open your mouth to protest but he tips his head. "A congratulations gift," he insists.

His friend approaches, giving you a friendly nod. "What are we congratulating?"

You smile weakly. "The end of my marriage."

"Divorce?" he asks. When you nod, he smirks. "The best thing about marriage, honestly."

"Max."

"What am I supposed to say?" Max protests, holding up his hands.

The first man groans. "You're such a – cheers," he says when the clerk brings his card back. "Let's go before you embarrass me even more."

You're smiling at their banter as you thank the clerk for her assistance. When you stand to make your way out, he's waiting near the door.

"Buy you a drink?" he offers as he opens the door for you.

His name is Lando. Max – pain in my ass – is obviously his best friend and doesn't join you for drinks as he's got to get packed up to leave. When you suggested Lando spend time with him before he goes home, Lando waved it off.

"He lives in England but I see him all the time."

Lando, it turns out, does not live in England. He looks almost embarrassed when you ask where he lives, and when he finally mutters that he lives in Monaco your eyes widen. Surely he's too young to be that well off?

Trust fund, probably. Now you don't feel so bad for his paying for the ring.

"That must be… Interesting," you say, taking a sip of your drink. He's brought you to a chic bar at the beach, and you're sitting on the upper terrace, the slowly sinking sun casting a golden glow over the water.

"I don't really get much time there." He fiddles with the stirrer in his drink. "I'm gone a lot."

Interest piqued, you set your glass down. "Oh?" Maybe he's a model, even if he is a little on the short side. Not that he's that short – he's definitely taller than you. "What do you do?"

"I drive cars." He ducks his head briefly. "Racecars."

"Really? I'm not… I'm a dumb American, the only racing I really know is the Indy 500?"

He laughs, shaking his head. "That's IndyCar."

You listen, fascinated, as he tells you about formula one, which you have heard about but it's not in your orbit. He seems both relieved and amused at the fact you're not into sports, and you can feel him relax as he laughs when you tell him you only watch the Super Bowl every year so you can eat a ton of junk food.

A drink turns into a few, and he's so nice to listen to, so easy to talk to. When he suggests dinner, you hesitate. You don't want to be that woman, newly divorced and falling into bed with the first man that looks at you. Especially one so young—

"How old are you?" you blurt.

It obviously surprises him and, though he was halfway out of his seat he sank back down. "How old are you?"

You refuse to play coy, to fish for compliments like you're desperate. "I'm thirty."

His eyebrows lift. "Twenty-four."

So not that young. More like… younger.

Lando gives you a smile. "Does that cancel dinner?"

You look into his eyes for a long moment then glance out at the view. There's an obvious fork in the road in front of you. One leads to something with this handsome racecar driver, and you have a feeling it's going to be more than dinner. The other leads to the rest of your solo vacation, with the cloud of what could be lingering. Looking at him again, you slowly breathe in.

Expensive cologne. Salt air.

"I'd love dinner," you say, and his smile rivals the setting sun.

You'll never be able to describe the meal you ate. Lando makes it nearly impossible to focus on anything but him. Not in a demanding way. He's just… Magnetic. He tells you stories about his career, about embarrassing moments and highs and lows and talks about his other ventures. How does he have time to sleep? He talks glowingly about Max and has you giggling into your wine over a story of the two of them getting into trouble that left Lando locked out of his parents' home. When he apologizes for talking so much you almost beg him to not stop. But he asks about you, and you can't help thinking he seems genuinely interested.

"My life isn't half as interesting as yours," you say with a shake of your head.

"I don't know… You're divorced, halfway around the world, having dinner with a strange guy. Seems interesting to me," he murmurs.

"Oh, it's a tale as old as time. Girl meets boy, girl falls in love and gives up everything… Girl becomes a woman, boy becomes a toad."

Lando winced. "No kissing to turn him into a prince?"

"He'd have to want the kiss for that to happen."

"What a fucking idiot," Lando says.

You tilt your head to the side. "For being a toad?"

"For not wanting your kiss."

You set your glass down with a surprised gulp. About to call him out for feeding you a line, you pause, seeing the glimmer in his eyes. Without thinking you lick your lips and see his gaze dip down briefly. You don't know what to say or how to react so you sit there, unable to refrain from thinking about how a kiss from Lando would feel.

"His loss." Lando's voice was barely above a murmur. Then, shockingly, his cheeks darken and his tongue darts over his lips. He looks down at his plate and you can hear his sigh before he looks up, his expression serious. "You gave up everything?"

"A slight exaggeration, really." You shrug, picking at your food. "I had dreams that I put on hold to help him achieve his."

"I've never been married. But, like…" He sighs, setting his fork down. "That doesn't seem fair?"

"Life isn't—"

"I know, but marriage isn't life is it?" His face screws up at that but he forges ahead. "Isn't the whole point of it to support and help each other achieve their dreams?"

Smiling sadly, you nod. "I thought it was. He thought different."

"What dreams did you put on hold?" he asks after a moment.

"I wanted to get published." You look down at your half-eaten food. "When I was a kid, I loved reading and making up stories… I was studying for my degree in English – I planned to teach writing while working on my novels, because it's hard to make money doing it at first, and… Now it's too late."

"Why do you say that?"

"I'd have to go back to school and—"

"Yeah? Would you have to start over completely?"

"No." You can't remember how many credit hours you have left, but it would only take a phone call or an email to find out. "I wasn't too far from my degree."

"Then what's stopping you?" he challenged softly.

You don't have an answer. Nothing but the fear of failing, and you don't know him well enough to admit that.

"I don't read." He winces a bit at the admission. "Dyslexic, yeah? It's a miracle I finished school. But anyway. You write a novel and I promise to read it."

A smile pulls at your lips. "You'd do that for me? Someone you don't even know?"

"Of course." He grins. "I believe in supporting the arts."

He drives you back to the hotel in his sleek sportscar and for once you understand the allure of a purring engine and soft leather seats. There's no impending pressure when he offers to see you to your room, only the heat of his hand at the small of your back and the enticing scent of his cologne.

At your door, he hesitates. "Can I kiss you?"

Has anyone ever asked your consent for a kiss? You don't think so and the realization makes you sad, but you push that away because you've wanted him to kiss you since halfway through dinner.

His lips are a lighted match to kindling. The heat and desire are immediate and you're leaning into him, frightened by the strength of your want but craving more. It's been an embarrassingly long time since you've felt this way and you're aware that it may be even longer before you feel it again. So when the door finally clicks open you don't hesitate to step inside, pausing and reluctantly breaking the kiss to look up at him.

And wish you'd googled how to invite a man into your hotel room without sounding desperate.

But you don't have to ask.

"Okay to come in?" he whispers.

"God yes," you gasp.

His lips are on yours before the door closes behind him. Wrapping your arms around him, you sink into the kiss, snatching in breaths as his hands cradle your head. A soft whine is muffled against his tongue as you grip the front of his shirt, knees nearly forgotten as the tenderness of his touch wars the ferocity of his kiss.

"Fuck," he mumbles against your lips, his hands beginning to wander, molding you closer against him, his breath hitching as he clutches your hips. He pulls his head back slightly and you can feel his harsh breathing as he stares at you before crashing his lips to yours again.

The need grows stronger, almost primal, and you're backing towards the bed, gasping as his hands pull at your dress, nearly ripping it. Craving the feel of his skin, you do the same to his shirt, barely noticing the trail of clothing on the floor, too focused on his touch and his smell and the decadence of his kiss. He guides you down, swallowing your gasp as your bare skin touches the cool sheets.

Breaking the kiss with a harsh moan, he braces his hands on either side of you and lifts up slightly. He's panting, lips parted, and he gives a soft chuckle of surprise. "I didn't plan on this."

You lick your lips, still tasting him. And only craving more. "Neither did I."

He blinks, eyes almost wild as they dart from yours to your lips and back again. And all you can think—

Beautiful. Breathtakingly so. You know it'll never happen but the romantic inside you wishes you could wake up to his eyes every morning.

He leans down, and his kiss sends every coherent thought away. His skin is warm beneath your fingers, his hair softer than you thought it would be. His hands are rough but gentle at the same time, in your hair and trailing down your sides. Your name is a longing moan vibrating against your throat as you trace the muscles of his back.

"Lando," you gasp, arching beneath him.

"I know… I know." Hot breath at your ear, fingers digging into your thigh. Guiding your leg over his hip.

"Please." It's a soft moan.

"Fuck." His lips move to yours, his gasping whimper muffled.

The frantic need is still there but he's unhurried, as though he's trying to memorize every breath, every touch. When your hand flies out to grasp the sheet his hand follows, fingers threading between yours and gripping tightly. You're lost in the haze, sweat forming between you, sheets twisting. Ecstasy rises, peaks, and it's so sudden and delicious your cries ring out.

"Y/n." A desperate whine that only increases the bliss.

Rolling, twisting, arching. It's feverish and needy and so good so so good.

You both collapse, your hands in his sweat-damp hair. Panting, tingling, you wait for the awkwardness that never comes. His touch is tender, his lips gentle on yours before he's pulling away, murmuring that he'll get a towel. He's back before you can catch your breath, and by the time you can breathe he's kissing you again.

The sky outside is turning gray when you both breathlessly agree to get some sleep. You half expect him to leave, but he's there when you wake up, sleeping on his stomach next to you, his arm slung across your waist, his gentle snores telling you he's fast asleep.

And though you distinctly remember him saying he was going back to Monaco that day, he sticks around. Blushes and shrugs when you ask him about it over lunch, then suggests borrowing a friend's yacht for the night. The days bleed into the nights, a blurred span of time of sightseeing, swimming, and Lando.

When it's time for you to pack up to go home you feel a little bereft. But the vacation can't last forever. You've got to go back to real life, figure out how you'll live as a completely free woman. And he's got to get back to his life, jetting around the world and undoubtedly breaking hearts.

You exchange numbers and he promises to keep in touch, but you know you'll be forgotten before your plane takes off. You've been a pleasant distraction for his summer break, nothing more.

You're about to board when your phone buzzes with an incoming text. From Lando.

- You dropped your ring in my car.

As you stare at the words, you realize you haven't rubbed your ring finger in nearly a week. A picture appears on the screen, the ring – that he bought – resting in his palm.

- Hold onto it for me?

He won't. He'll give it away or sell it or take it back to the shop.

But, when you're back home and have exchanged texts with him and even a couple phone calls – yes I promise I contacted an advisor, I'm signing up for classes – and he lets you know his break is over and he's getting back to work, you cave and pull up footage of him in an interview.

He looks different on the screen of your laptop. Good, but different. And you can only focus on the necklace that's just visible under his (hideous really) orange shirt. When he leans, it shifts, and you see it.

Your ring.

"Are you still hung up on her?"

Lando's head snaps up at Max's question. "What?"

His friend gestures to the phone in Lando's hand. "That American?"

He feels his cheeks heat and realizes Max knows he's looking at your Instagram. "I'm not hung up."

Max just looks at him.

"I'm just checking on her," he mutters.

With a sigh, Max softens and sits next to him. "It's okay to like her, you know."

He huffs, his hand reaching to fiddle with the ring on his necklace. "She was just supposed to be a fling."

"But she wasn't," Max says after a moment.

Lando shakes his head. "I don't know," he whispers.

Silence lingers, stretches as his thumb hovers over your most recent post.

Then, softly. "Am I stupid?"

Max shoots him a look.

"For thinking it was special," he adds before his friend can insult him. "For thinking she thinks it was special."

"Was it special?"

He swallows hard, rolling the ring between his fingers as he looks at the post, a photo of a cup of coffee next to a laptop. Up past my bedtime parsing Austen. Liking it, he closes the app and locks his phone.

Was it special? Or was it just the great sex and no strings that had him thinking it was? At first, in those days immediately after you'd left, he'd only thought about the sex. How freeing it had been, knowing he wouldn't see you again and could let inhibitions go. But with each week that passed the sex wasn't the only thing he thought about.

Laughter and sunshine. Salty air and sweet conversation. Honeyed voice and understanding eyes.

He lifts his head, meeting Max's eyes. He doesn't have to say it. Max has known him for more than half his life. But he answers.

"Yes."

Taglist:

@maxlarens | @driverlando | @leodette | @forzalando | @captainreecejames | @d3kstar | @frenchyjuju | @irishmanwhore | @warrensluvr | @tpwkstiles | @mcmuppet | @eveninggstar | @noooway555 | @bookishnerd1132 | @skeleton-elly | @trisharee | @littlegrapejuice

[mrs-harrington-reid]

Begin Again

Snow on the beach

" I can’t speak, afraid to jinx it. I can’t even dare to wish it but your eyes are flying saucers from another planet. Now I’m all for you like Janet can this be a real thing, can it?” - Taylor Swift

Pairing: Post Prison Spencer x Single Mom Reader

Summary: Spencer's therapist had encouraged him to get back into the dating scene to improve his mental wellness but after multiple failed blind dates Spencer feels that it is doing the exact opposite. That is until JJ and Garcia set him up with you.

Warnings: talking about traumatic dates, fluffity fluffy fluff, post prison spencer just being a little lover boy cutie pahtootie, lmk if I missed anything else!

Begin Again (Masterlist)

It wasn't that the girls Spencer went on blind dates with were horrible, they just weren't exactly the best. His first date was with a nice women that was in the same book club as Garcia. The date had gone wonderful until she asked if he had a chip in his neck so that the government could track him, and he would've laughed if she wasn't being completely serious. The next one was a girl who used to nanny Henry, that was all fun and games until her ex boyfriend showed up at the restaurant and she left Spencer with nothing but the bill.

Then there was the one who had too much wine and threw up all over him, the one who believed that the earth was flat and that the holocaust never happened, the one who just wanted a signed book from Rossi, and so on. He had been on at least ten failed dates within the spand of three months and to say he was over it would be an understatement.

"Oh come on Spence just give this one a try." JJ pleaded as they walked into the elevator with Garcia.

"I just don't see how this girl could possibly be any better than the last ten that you and Garcia set me up with."

"But she is!" Garcia exclaimed. "You see me and the all so lovely JJ realized the problem was that we hadn't picked a girl for you together as a team so that's exactly what we did and she will blow your little genius mind."

"fine." He huffed in defeat "but if this date ends horribly you have to promise to never set me up again."

Both the girls agreed to the deal so Garcia sent him your number as fast as she possibly could've.

All he could do was pray that they were right and that this date would turn out to be better than the last ones.

_

You adjusted your knitted sweater while you intensely examined yourself in the mirror. You wondered if you had put on too much makeup or if your tan knitted sweater with jeans and converse was too lazy for a first date.

"Can you stop fixing something every five seconds your seriously stressing me out." Your best friend Liv pleaded behind you while her head hung off the edge of your bed.

"I'm scared liv this is the first date I've been on in a long time and I don't want it to turn into a dumpster fire of a night." You sighed and brushed out the curls in your hair one more time.

"I think its going to be just fine from what you told me this guy is just as awkward as you are so maybe it's like a match made in dork heaven." She laughed.

"He seems super sweet I'm just scared he's going to run for the hills as soon as I tell him about Autumn."

“If he has a problem with the fact that you have a daughter he clearly isn't mature enough to handle a real relationship and needs to start acting his age."

Most men you tried to date either immediately ran or told you that they "weren't looking for anything serious right now" after you told them a out Autumn. You just prayed that Spencer would be the exception considering he was six years older than you and had experienced a little more life than you had.

The ping of a text message distracted you from your previous thoughts. "Okay liv, Spencer is going to be here in five minutes to pick me up. Theo is dropping Autumn off at seven and remember please she needs to be in bed by eight or else she gets grumpy in the morning and I'll be home at least by eight thirty." You rambled.

"don't you worry about Autumn she's going to have a great time with the world's greatest god mother. Also I already took the day off so go clean out your cobwebs tonight, I got this." You both let out a laugh at her last comment.

"I just feel so guilty leaving Autumn the day she comes home from her dad's. I promise I will be home by at least nine so maybe I can call in too and we can go get brunch in the morning?" You suggested fixing your earrings; finally feeling less anxious about how this would all play out.

Before liv could answer you the doorbell rang signaling you that either Spencer was waiting or Theo had been there early to drop Autumn off. Your heart rate picked up as you grabbed your purse and walked to the front door and slowly turned the knob.

"Hi you must be Y/N" Spencer smiled when you opened the door. You hadn't expected him to walk all the way up to your door and knock. Most of the guys you'd gone out with were the drive by and honk type, especially Autumns father Theo when you were dating.

"Yes I am and you must be the famous Dr. Spencer Reid I've heard so much about." You beamed as you walked out and shut your door behind you as soon as you heard liv open her mouth.

"Only good things I hope?"

"I think we both know JJ and Penelope would never dare to say anything bad about you." You said as you both approached his car, blushing when he opened the car door for you.

You were sort of confused at the fact that he insisted on picking you up. You could’ve sworn that you remembered JJ saying something about how he hated driving.

The drive was mostly silent and sort of awkward on your way to the unknown restaurant that Penelope had insisted he take you to after you told her that you enjoyed pasta, she had made your guys' reservation and everything. And when you arrived he opened your door for you once again. Even after being told almost every detail about the man standing before you still felt extremely nervous to make conversation.

"So JJ tells me that your a teacher." He attempts to make small talk.

"I am. I teach kindergarten, honestly I wanted to be an English Lit professor but you kinda of have to wait for one of those guys to die before the position is opened." You winced at your own shitty joke. You and Liv had always joked about how college professors looked like they were decomposing but Spencer didn't know that. And now that you’re thinking about it you remember Penelope telling you that Spencer was a professor when he wasn't with the BAU.

He let out at small laugh and you were absolutely flabbergasted. He got your joke? And he laughed? You were starting to wonder if this was just a laugh at all her jokes type of flirt tactic. But then again JJ had told you that he was sort of oblivious and bad at flirting.

"That's so true. You know the average age of college professors in the United States is 42 but there are significantly more faculty that reported their age at 55 and above so technically there's a lot more old professors in the USA than young professors." He rambled.

"I didn't know that." You smiled. He did understand your joke.

When you arrived at the front door of the restaurant you were met with a sign that said "CLOSED" in bold letters. You swear you could've cried you were only twenty minutes into the date and it had been so wonderful until this.

"oh...well if you wanted we could find a food truck and eat in my car? But only if you want to." He suggested, anxiously waiting for your response. You noticed him fidgeting with his fingers and you immediately interpreted that he was outside his comfort zone asking you to stay but he was still trying nonetheless.

"This isn't your master plan to drive to some viewpoint and get me in your back seat is it?" you smiled trying to ease his anxiety.

"I promise" he held his hands up.

You both walked back to his car unable to stop smiling. He was glad that you already weren't like the other girls he had gone on dates with. And you were happy that he wasn't as douche like the other guys you had been on dates with but you also still needed to tell him about autumn before you fully came to any conclusion about his character.

"Spencer before we continue this date I have something I need to tell you." You stopped walking and looked at him and he had fully set into a panic. This is it. This is when you would turn out to be just as insane as the other ones. He braced himself for your next words. "I have a one year daughter. I needed to tell you before I got too attached and you decided to run. I told JJ and Penelope not to tell you so that I could see how you reacted."

He exhaled a breath he didn't even know he was holding in. "That's a relief."

You quirked your brow at him. "So you don't care that I have a daughter at home?"

"Not at all" he reassured you "I actually quite like kids. I've never had any of my own but I have my two godsons and they're wonderful." You smiled at him. How could he have been so damn perfect.

You continued walking and he opened the door for you once again when you reached his car. And once you were both in the small talk started up again. "So I assume you know how I know JJ and Garcia but how did you meet them." He was still astounded at the fact that they both knew someone this perfect and didn't set you up with him sooner.

"I used to be Henry's teacher and then when my I had my daughter me and JJ were in a mom group together and we became friends. And then I met Penelope when JJ invited me out one night and I've been friends with the both of them ever since." You responded. "And I'm guessing your Henry's godfather that he dressed up as for Halloween when I had him as a student?"

"How did you know? That was such a long time ago I'm surprised you even remember that." He smiled at the fond memory.

"Because it was probably the cutest little costume I had ever seen and extremely creative might I add. My daughter was a pumpkin for her first Halloween and Henry beat her in cuteness by a long shot." You gushed. "But don't ever tell her I said that."

"Can you tell me about her? Your daughter." Spencer asked. You felt like you needed to pinch your arm to see if this was real.

"Her name is Autumn. I named her that because she was born in October and my favorite poem is Autumn by Alice Clary. She has so much personality for a one year old and she’s just so beautiful and amazing. I never saw myself being a mom but now that I am I couldn’t imagine anything else." He admired the way your eyes sparkled and your voiced softened when you talked about her. It was so incredible how in love you were with being a mother. He parked the car and you both walked out and towards the first food truck that you had passed neither of you cared what kind of food it was considering you were absolutely starving.

Within the next couple of hours you had both ordered your food and we're currently eating it as you spoke on the hood of Spencer's car. He has his head thrown back laughing as you told a story about one of your lousy dates that you had been on in the past.

"So I really thought I got stood up and I was ready to leave until this guy shows up and explained to me that he had to have his mom drop him off because he missed the bus. And then he continues to tell me all about how he still lived in her basement and was unemployed." You laughed.

"What did you tell him."

"I pretended that Autumns dad called me and told me that she was sick and I had to leave immediately." You responded "and then he asked me if I could take him back to his mom's house on my way. I ended up taking him home and paying for my own dinner."

"I can do you one better." Spencer laughed "One time JJ set me up with this woman from your mom group named Amy and she seemed okay until she started drinking and in the middle of me telling her what I do for a living she threw up all over me in the middle of the restaurant. I had to carry her out because she could barely walk and I swear my car smelled like puke for a week."

"why would JJ even set you up with her" you wheezed "we literally call her alcoholic Amy. She always has a flask in her son’s diaper bag it’s absurd.” You giggled.

Spencer sat there admiring your beauty as you laughed. Something about you made him feel so comfortable. In the short time you'd known each other you made him feel so comfortable that he didn't need to hide behind all his knowledge. Comfortable enough that he could just be a carefree and casual version of himself that he barely even knew existed. He felt bold and confident in your presence and it made him so truly happy.

Your phone starting to ring. You picked it up extremely fast, scared that it was Liv wanting to face time to tell you that something was wrong with Autumn. But Penelope's name and face was the only thing that covered your screen.

"Oh look who it is." You giggled and flashed your phone at Spencer before you answered. "Hey pen, what's up?"

"So I was calling to ask how the date went but then I realized that I had gotten the confirmation for your guys' reservation at six this morning and I thought it was weird but sei la vie you know?" You and Spencer smiled at her rambling "But then I looked at the website and these people are open at six in the freaking morning! So turns out I made your reservation for seven thirty am not seven thirty pm cause they're closed at five which is completely bonkers if you ask me." She took a second to finally breathe "so I am so sorry if your date got ruined. Ugh and you were the first good one we set him up with too but I'll fix it no worries my love."

"Pen I'm gonna say your hours too late on this call but your all good we found something else to do so no worries." You laughed and turned your screen so that Penelope could see Spencer sitting next to you.

"Oh look at that you guys are still out. I would like to end this call with a quick" she cleared her throat preparing for her next words "I win Spencer, I told you she was a good one! ha!" After those last words she hung up.

"oh my goodness I didn't even realize what time it was" you gasped when you looked at the time on your phone and saw that It was almost midnight. "I'm so sorry I kept you out this late."

"No really your okay. I'd be lying if I didn't already see the time a while ago, I just didn't want this to end so fast." He admitted and it made you heart absolutely melt.

"If I didn't have autumn waiting at home for me I would totally stay for longer but I really should get going." You sighed.

He nodded and took your guys' garbage to throw away before he opened the passenger door for you to hop in. After he got back into the car and put his seat belt on he felt the need to ask you about your previous marriage. Something intrigued him about the fact that you had gotten divorced for what he considered to be at a young age.

“So I know this is sort of first date taboo but um, why did you get divorced? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to I was just kind of curious because I just feel like twenty eight is a young age to get divorced.”

“Oh no I really don’t mind talking about it.” You reassured him. “Me and Theo met in high school. Honestly it was one of those cliche high school sweethearts type of things. I was a cheerleader; he was the captain of the basketball team and our parents were friends so we just thought why not? It seemed right at the time but after I got pregnant with autumn everything changed so I filled for divorce before she was born.” “you know it’s actually proven that children who never experience their parents unhappy relationships actually live a much happier and healthier life than those who experience their parents divorce.” He tried to make you feel better about your failed marriage in his own special way.

“I hope that’s the case with Autumn” you sighed.

“I’m sure it will be. I know we haven’t known each other for very long but you seem like a really good mom.” He smiled as you pulled into your driveway. Neither of you were ready for the night to end but you knew it had to eventually.

“I’ll walk you to your door” he cleared his throat before exiting his car. He opened the door and you both silently walked to the front door but as you went to turn the knob Spencer stopped you. “I’m going to ask you a question and you can feel free to tell me no but it’s going to drive me crazy if I don’t ask. Can I kiss you?”

“yeah” you let out softly. He placed his hand on your cheek and slowly leaned down until your lips met. You moved your arms to rest on his shoulders while he moved his other hand to your waist. Something as simple as a kiss had never felt so perfect to you.

That was until Liv opened the door and cleared her throat in an incredibly overdramatic manner. “Hi I’m Olivia, Y/N’s roommate.” You and Spencer pulled away from each other, cheeks flushed and chests heaving.

“It’s nice to meet you, I’m Spencer” Olivia waited for a handshake that was never going to happen.

“He has a thing with germs”, “I have a thing with germs” you both stated at the exact same time.

“Anyway I should get inside now I had a fun night with you Spencer, feel free to text me anytime.” You smiled at each other with a silent understanding before he walked away.

you walked past liv to get inside. “So coming home after curfew young lady. Tsk. tsk. Did you get lucky?” She wiggled her eyebrows.

“no he was a perfect gentleman and we just got lost in conversation.” You beamed.

“I imagine it was hard to have a conversation with his tongue down your throat!”

“that was the only time we kissed tonight! I really like him liv something about this guy just feels so different. It feels like I was meant to meet him you know.” Liv let out a small laugh but you were completely serious. You knew Spencer Reid was about to change your life you just didn’t know how yet.

“oh my goodness and what was that germ thing about. I mean the man wouldn’t shake my hand but he would swap saliva with you?”

“you know it’s actually more cleanly to kiss than shake hands.”

liv just shook her head “you two really were made for each other. I’m going to bed now but I will be ready for brunch in the morning.” She said before she walked to her room. You threw yourself on your couch and you couldn’t help but kick your feet at just how happy you were and little did you know Spencer was just as giddy as he walked into his apartment.

-

A/N: sorry this took my so long to get this out I’m revamping my fics rn so hopefully I’ll be posting more soon! I hope you enjoyed this and heads up I have not proofread so I’m sorry for any mistakes you come across. I appreciate feedback and I hope y’all have a wonderful day and lmk if you would like to be added in the taglist💕

also if any of y’all are into the Harry Potter universe please feel free to check out my other fic im working on called: The Alchemy

Taglist: @witchsbitchestime @sonicthehedgedoggo @feyresqueen @donttrustlove @alcoholandcakes @person-005 @ilwsma @mega-kittyglitter-1 @creative-heart @chicken-fifi

[mjolnirswriststrap]

SCARED

Neighbor!Bucky Barnes X F!Reader

Word Count: 2,519 ⭐️Masterlist⭐️

Summary: I loosely based this off of a real life event of mine, so if things don’t make sense, ask God 🤣🤣

Warnings: Agegap, neighbor!bucky, adultery, 18+ not quite smut but I don’t want childen reading anything I write 🤷🏻‍♀️ suggestive or not.

Spending the summer with your aunt wasnt something you planned for when school ended. It meant church every Sunday, and Wednesday night. It meant no wifi and being stranded in a strange town on the border of Georgia and Alabama.

You’d never been to Georgia and the possibility of driving to Florida to go to the beach was enough to convince you 5 weeks wasn’t that long. The 10 hour drive there lasted longer than the summer escape.

The first few weeks were exactly what you expected. Church, shopping, eating your aunts famous fried chicken livers, talking on the porch late into the night. On the third Sunday, after church, she informs you that you’re taking a trip to Alabama. Her grandson is coming to spend the week. You both needed to go pick him up from her daughter.

It took 4 hours to get there, napping made it feel like 30 minutes. Your aunt pulled up to a trailer park, and you scan your surroundings. You were even further in the middle of nowhere, then what you were at your aunts house. You always wanted to know the way out. But here, a 2 mile dirt road separates you from the highway you turned off of. You take notice of the neighbors, one had a pool out front, some older ladies floating on pool noodles waved at your aunt, they must know her. The neighbors on the other side of your cousins house weren’t so inviting.

You saw a toddler sitting in the dirt crying. Watching up at his parents flinging spit in each others faces. You avert your gaze when the man flicks his eyes over to you. You know men like that, they’re terrifying and unpredictable. He could walk over to you and start on you just for glancing in his direction. Your aunt ushers you into her daughters house, not wanting you to see the altercation.

You hadn’t seen your cousin since you were a little girl. Now she has a little boy. It was weird. Your family was so large, it was impossible to keep up with everyone. You had many cousins you hadn’t seen since Christmas of ‘06. After a ham sandwich and barbecue chips you were ready to leave, it was more boring here, and your cousin even had cable. You aunt must’ve noticed your boredom, offering a swim in her friends pool out front.

“But I didn’t bring a bathing suit?” You say grinning, knowing you’d go naked if it meant you could swim. “Just wear your bra and I’ll go ask the neighbor if she has some shorts that will fit you.” Your aunt says, swinging open the screen door. You nod your head, quickly braiding your hair to keep it out of your face. You almost lose your spot, twisting knots into your hair when the blonde woman from next door walks in, smiling. “Hey, your aunt said you needed some shorts?”.

You hop up from the couch. “Yes, thank you, I don’t know if we’re even close to the same size but what can it hurt to try?” You give her a soft smile. She looked like a wounded animal. She was way too nice to be getting yelled at like that. You wonder what set him off. But you know better than to ask. “Tanya, your kids crying.” You both look behind her to the open door. The dark haired man was standing there, looking thoroughly disgusted. When his eyes find you again, you have nowhere to hide. “Your aunt says you guys are staying the night.” He informs you, walking away. You furrow your eyebrows, why wouldn’t your aunt tell you that herself?

“She did, James needs a ride into town tomorrow and your aunt couldn’t say no.” She gives you a tight lipped smile. She knows a young girl would rather be spending her summer somewhere else. Once you squeezed into the shorts, you bolted to the pool, with a quick introduction to Sherry and Barb, sisters who owned the park. They were nice, asked you questions and treated you like family. Your aunt must really know them, you had no clue how.

Tanya and your aunt walked across the grass and climbed into the pool. Tanya tightly held onto a bottle of Budweiser, letting you know the night was already starting. You dunk your head, wanting to wash away the sweat from your forehead. When you resurface you see James stomping towards the pool, his shirt missing and motor oil smeared on his chest. “Drinking beer but not watching your kid I wish I could be surprised.” That’s when you notice a little boy in his hands, floaties tightly wrapped around his arms and body. He snatched the brown bottle from her hands, tossing the boy into the pool. “I got shit to do.” He walked away, finishing the beer and throwing the empty bottle to the ground.

After two more hours in the pool, your cousin came out looking for your aunt, leaving you alone with the Tanya and the baby. “Are you happy?” You finally ask, only because you’re truly alone with her. Her eyes well with tears, she shakes her head no. You move across the pool grabbing the boy you’d become acquainted with. You pulled yourself out of the water, not bothering to dry off, but you wrapped the boy in a towel. The sun was setting and it wasn’t warm enough for him to be out here wet. “I’ll be right back.” You give her a firm nod, carrying him in the direction of her house. She just watched helplessly as you turn the corner out of site.

Your heart started beating faster as you walked up to the trailer, knocking on the door. You try to think of what to say as you wait for him to open the door. You hear cursing from the other side before it’s swung open. He stands there for a minute, holding the door open before you realize he’s inviting you in. You step up, still holding onto the toddler. You don’t move from the doormat, afraid of tracking water through the house. “You can lay him down on the couch.” He says, pointing toward the corner of the room. You nod, padding your feet across the cold linoleum. You didn’t even notice the boy fell asleep in your arms, swimming always tuckers out kids. You straighten your back when you feel water droplets sliding down the inside of your thigh, pooling water at your feet.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t even dry off before bringing him.” You look at the ground, wondering how you could fix the wet footprints that painted his floor. “I’m not.” He says but you barely catch it. “Huh?” You ask.

“Don’t be sorry, it’s just water honey.” You look up at him, not believing his sincerity. His blue eyes are piercing into yours. “Okay, well I better get back to the pool.” He watches you as you walk out of the door, he doesn’t make room for you to slip past him, causing you to turn your body towards him, he smelled good, you don’t know how. He was covered in black dirt from under the car, and sweat. He still wasn’t wearing a shirt and his tanned skin was so smooth, save for the happy trail growing up his stomach.

He was a lot older than you, more than 15 years, you’d guess. But you couldn’t tell standing this close to him. Your brain forces you out of the door. If you stood there in the tension for a second longer you don’t know what stupid thing would come out of your mouth. When you got back to the pool everyone had rejoined Tanya, even your aunt and cousin were drinking. You escape to your cousins house, changing back into your leggings and putting on your t-shirt. You check on your baby cousin, he’s sleeping in his room, not a worry in the world. You take the chance to spend a minute alone and turn on the tv.

You don’t even care to change the channel, SpongeBob played, lulling you to sleep. You’re awoken by your aunt, handing you the neighbor boy. “Will you watch him for a minute?” You just nod, and she’s out of the house. You peak through the curtain to see blue lights out front. Why are the cops here? You rock the boy to sleep, laying him down beside your cousin in his bed. When you walk outside everyone’s gone. The cops, your aunt, the neighbors. “What the hell.” You say out loud. You go knock on Sherrys door, hoping your aunt was there. But no one answered. Walking across the grass field someone caught your attention. It’s James, yelling at his trailer. “You don’t love me anyways, bitch.” He throws another beer bottle, this one smashes against the siding of the house. “I should’ve never fucked you and let you have my kid.” You stop in your tracks when he turns around, obviously drunk. “Hey.” He says, slowly walking towards you. “Are you okay?” You ask naïve as ever.

“I’m a good person, right?” He asks. You don’t know what to say, not wanting to tip him off that you were shitting your pants right now.

“Yes, you seem like a really good dad.” You’re trying to deescalate. “I am.” His voice is a little louder than it should be. “I don’t doubt it.” You’re still standing in the same spot, too afraid to move. “You’re nice.” He says, smiling widely. You give him one back, he hadn’t done anything to you yet, you weren’t going to give him a reason to.

It was no secret that you were nervous. Your breathing was fast and your eyes kept darting past him. “You don’t have to be scared. There’s nothing to be afraid of.” He throws his hands in the air. “I’m not going to hurt you.” He says, stepping closer to you again. “Everyone hurts me. Treats me like I’m not worth anything.” He lets his head hang, and you start to feel guilt building inside of you, this man just needed someone to lean on. “I’m not worthless, right?” He looks up at you with tears in his eyes. You know he’s drunk, but this pain was real.

“You’re worth more than you know.” It was cliche, but a true blanket statement, no one knows their true worth. “Thank you.” He says, wiping his eyes. “I just need someone to hold me for once.” You felt that, you knew exactly what he meant. “Wanna hug?” You offer, knowing that sometimes that’s all people need, church the last three weeks had taught you that. Sometimes a smile and a handshake is all the human contact people get all week.

He just looks at you, expecting you to close the gap between you. So you do, you walk towards him, fear in the form of sweat, still dripping from you. You give him a warm smile as you lay your head on his chest, wrapping your arms around his middle. His hands quickly found your hips, pulling you even closer to him. He squeezed you tightly, and you swear you hear him smell your hair. You try to pull away after an awkward silence falls over the two of you, but he won’t let you go.

“I’m sorry you’re going through stuff man, I am.” You say, patting his shoulder to tell him to let go. You feel his body go rigid against yours so you think he’s crying again. Drunk tears are never ending. “It’s okay.” You wrap your arms around him again, rubbing up and down his bare back. You try to pull away again, this time saying something “Don’t want Tanya to come out here and catch you hugging a stranger, probably best we let go now.”

His silence was a thousand words. Then he spoke, “You can’t do that.” He says lowly. You pull away and try to look at his face. “What are you talking about?” You ask, fear filling you again. He looks into your eyes, letting one of his hands slide down to the curve of your ass. You instantly put your hands on his chest and try to push him away. “You can’t be sweet to me and expect me not to like it.” His voice was different now, desperate. He presses his face into your neck, sloppily kissing up to your jaw.

Your heart is beating out of your chest now, and you stop fighting, not wanting to anger him. “You don’t want to cheat on your wife, you’re just drunk.” You try to break through to him. “You don’t know me.” He says, pulling you towards the back yard. “No I don’t, but you seem like a good man, don’t let a drunken mistake ruin what you’ve built for yourself.” You keep trying to persuade him.

“I wasn’t drunk earlier, when I watched you bend over in my living room, dripping wet. I wanted you then, just didn’t say anything.” He says, pressing you against your cousins house. He breathes in your face, and you smell more than beer on his breath, whiskey was pungently invading your nose. “So what? You like me or something?” You ask, confused on where this was going.

“Something like that.” He says, pressing his lips to yours. You’re shocked, you thought you were gonna be able to talk your way out of it. “This isn’t right.” You stop the kiss, nodding towards his trailer. You look between his eyes and try to find some common sense. “Then why does it feel right?” He grabs your hand, forcing you to cup the hard mass in his pants.

You gasp, you’d never felt one before, your virginity not up for debate, you’d never even had a boyfriend. “See, you like it too.” It’s like he’s trying to convince you. You look between him and the houses, searching for a witness. When you couldn’t find a soul, you stop fighting all together. He feels your body relax and takes it as permission to pull your leggings down. “Hey!” You say, but you guess it was too loud for his liking because he covers your mouth with his hand, looking you dead in the eye while his fingers push past your panties and dip inside of you. “You like being scared little girl?” He pulls his hand away from you, licking his fingers and tasting you.

Him reading you like a book was also a turn on. You stay silent, telling him everything he needs to know. He twist your body, pressing your face into the plastic. “Maybe you like it rough too, huh?” He slaps your bare ass, rubbing the raised red welt to soothe it.

You whimper, you’re going to let him have his way with you. If this was the only eventful thing that happens this summer, then what the hell. Tanya wasn’t happy and neither was he, who were you to interfere with destiny?

[acinnamongirlsdiary]

𝓦𝓲𝓵𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓕𝓵𝓸𝔀𝓮𝓻𝓼 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓟𝓻𝓮𝓽𝓽𝔂 𝓟𝓲𝓷𝓴 𝓡���𝓫𝓫𝓸𝓷𝓼-𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 1: 𝓢𝓪𝓭 𝓖𝓲𝓻𝓵 𝓫𝔂 𝓛𝓓𝓡

Summary: Reader and Jacaerys are arranged to be wed. But reader doesn’t want that bc she hardly remembers him. Tension are rising with house Lannister so allies are more important then ever.

Cw: Slowburn, angst, this is genuinely just a fix-it fic, Rhaenicent, some mentions of s/a trauma but will be tagged in the chapters!!, mean dad, eventual smut but will tag in chapters, readers super apprehensive, VERY self indulgent

Pls be nice this is my first fic lol!! Feedback is very welcome tho! Banner creds to- @gwzzzly

.˳⁺⁎˚ ꒰ఎ ★ ໒꒱ ˚⁎⁺˳ .

You were sure your father would be the death of you. One of the most powerful and influential lords of Westeros forcing his youngest daughter to marry Queen Rhaenrya’s eldest son, Jacaerys Valeryon.

Knowing him since you were kids claimed your beating heart just a little. The thought still scared you. The idea of a loveless, political marriage was terrifying. Especially with a man you haven’t seen in 7 years.

“We’re almost to Kings landing, My Lady.” Your maid and friend, Abby, said. “Are you excited? I remember when we were younger you were so in love with him and the idea of becoming queen.”

She was right. The idea of Jacaerys and being queen was enticing, but your father’s words were causing a little apprehension to say the least.

“I don’t know.” You spoke softly, as though you were trying not to wake a bear, “I remember him being kind, but it’s been so long. What if he’s changed? What if he’s become as power hungry like most other men.”

“I choose to believe Rhaenrya would rather die then let that happen.” Abby said. She was amazing to have around. So kind an positive even when you would start to spiral.

“I’m hoping for my sake he’s understanding. I’m so nervous I don’t know how I’ll react when I see him.” You said poking out the window. The foliage and mountains were so beautiful, covered with fog ready to claim travelers.

It reminded you of simpler, softer times.

.˳⁺⁎˚ ꒰ఎ ★ ໒꒱ ˚⁎⁺˳ .

Getting out of the carriage and up the steps to the throne room were grueling. Your father reminding you to speak kindly and be as open as possible was stressing you out and causing you to shut down even more. He could be kind, your father as you siblings loved to remind you, but he was nothing if not arrogant through and through.

The throne room was vast but smaller than you remember. Running through it and poking your finger on the swords of the iron throne (which was just as intimidating as before). Rhaenyra and Alicent smiled at you.

“Hello sweet girl” Alicent said, pulling you into a warm hug. “It’s been so long you’re so much older!” She smiled.

“Queen Alicent! I’ve missed you!” You exclaimed wrapping your arms around her. You didn’t expect to see Jacaerys right away asking the queens where he was.

“Oh Jace is on the beach with Luke training.” Rhaenyra stated. Her warm gaze on you felt nostalgic. “Heleana will show you your room and perhaps you two can take a walk to show you around.”

.˳⁺⁎˚ ꒰ఎ ★ ໒꒱ ˚⁎⁺˳ .

As you walked with Heleana, your anxiety started to lower. She spoke about how kind Jacaerys was, how much you’ll like it here and how excited he was to see you again.

“He’ll be at the feast tonight. It’s all he’s spoken to Rhaenrya about for the past couple of days!” She giggled.

“Really? I didn’t expect him to be so happy.” The thought of a man so happy to see you after so long felt you with warmth.

“Oh yes. He’s gotten bigger than he was before.” She giggled “I’m sure he’ll be able to twirl you around whilst you two dance the night away!” She let go of your hand and started to spin, while looking dreamily to the sky.

.˳⁺⁎˚ ꒰ఎ ★ ໒꒱ ˚⁎⁺˳ .

Your nerves eased through the day, talking and having tea and picking out dresses with Abby and Heleana.

“That one will bring him to his knees.” Abby giggle, referring to a beautiful pink gown with shirt sleeves and little ruffles on the bodice. You twirl thinking of dancing with Jacaerys. His arms around you as if you were the only people in the world.

“Did you hear what Lady Carrie said?” Abby spoke as she massaged shampoo through your hair. “She was speaking to one of the Tyrell boys and how she planned to dance with him.” You gasp. The idea of Lady Carrie and him was odd. Especially with how rough he looked. “I don’t think he deserves her though.”

The night went on with gossip and preparing for the grand meal. You tried to pay attention but ever mention of Jacaerys made you both freeze up and go stiff but also become excited in ways you could hardly contain. The idea of him and you being bound together scared you. But you’re hair tied up and flowers woven through out, your makeup in light pink shades and in your beautiful pink dress, you knew you at least looked your best.

Walking into the dining room all eyes were on you. Especially Jacaerys’.

.˳⁺⁎˚ ꒰ఎ ★ ໒꒱ ˚⁎⁺˳ .

Sorry if this is so short! The future chapters will be longer but I just wanted to get this one out!

[pastelspoon31]

Chapter 3: What a nice neighbour! (Older!König x Younger!Reader) - NSFW

tw: age gap (early 20s reader, AT LEAST mid-40s König), manipulation, non-con, unconventional method of sunscreen application, gullible reader :(, a little bit of pseudo-incest, pretty much dead dove, this is very ICKY BEWARE HEHEHE

Chapter 2| Chapter 3 | > Masterlist

A/N: BEACH EPISODE TIME! Reader be so damn eepy even at the beach 😔... Also what the fuck is a massage wand?

"You sure my bikini isn't too revealing, König?" You asked him as the two of you walked onto the beach behind the condominium you both lived in, König carrying a large beach bag on his arm.

"Of course not, liebling." He replied.

"Well.. you think anyone will be looking at me?" You asked, sounding nervous.

König gave you a look.

"Are you suggesting that men shouldn't be looking at you?" He asked, sounding annoyed, and you quickly shook your head.

"N-no! Of course not.." You trailed off.

"Mein liebling, you are a beautiful young woman." König explained. "You should feel proud to show off that body."

"O-oh.." You blushed and looked away.

"Besides, what kind of man wouldn't want a woman like you?"

You looked back at him and gave a soft smile.

"You're too sweet to me, König.." You giggled shyly and walked with him.

"Someone has to remind you how wonderful you are, liebling." He chuckled as the two of you found a nice shady spot behind a huge rock, under a coconut tree on the beach. König took it upon himself to spread out the towels and setting up the umbrella where the shade doesn't cover the both of you.

König pulled a bottle of sunscreen from the bag. "Lay down, liebling. You need sunscreen."

You blushed lightly and did as he said, laying on your stomach and waiting for him.

After making sure that no one was looking; König who is hard as a rock since he first saw you in that tiny bikini, didn't even hesitate to pull out his cock discreetly and rubbed some sunscreen into his hand before rubbing it on his cock, making sure it was slick and covered.

Then slowly, he used his cock to massage the lotion onto your back, his cock slipping between the straps of your bikini top and rubbing against your skin.

"Mm, you're so soft.." König hummed.

"Thanks, König. Is that a massage wand or something?" You asked him, making him chuckle.

"Something like that, hase."

"I've never had a massage wand, but it feels good." You smiled.

"That's good, liebling." He replied, and you let out a relaxed sigh.

"Mm.. Thank you.." You mumbled, and König could see that you were about to fall asleep.

"Get some rest, hase." He assured, and you were out cold, König taking this opportunity to pull the strings on your bikini top, untying them and pulling it off of your back.

"So beautiful, hase.." He moaned quietly, rubbing his cockhead on the skin of your back, leaving a trail of precum wherever he went.

You moaned softly in your sleep, and he knew he had to make sure not to get too loud, or he'd wake you.

König's hips moved, thrusting against your back, the sunscreen making his cock slip and slide over your skin, the precum and sunscreen mixing together to create an absolutely obscene sound.

König couldn't hold himself back, not when your back was so soft, and warm, and wet.

His balls lightly smacked against your back, making a soft slapping sound that made him groan, and he couldn't help but massaged your ass and squeeze the soft flesh as he came, painting your back with his seed.

He was panting heavily, his heart pounding as he came down from his high.

"Fuck.. Fuck.." He moaned softly, his hands continuing to massage your ass, and you hummed in your sleep- Presumably pleased by his skillful massage.

Once he was able to collect himself, König put his cock back in his trunks and redid the ties on your top, so it was back in its original state.

He leaned down and placed a kiss to your cheek.

"Wake up, liebling. Need you to flip over for me to do your front part~"

You groaned and slowly stirred awake, rolling over and squinting your eyes at the sunlight that now hits you directly in the face as you sat up.

"What'd you say, König? Sun too bright.." You clearly weren't aware of what just happened as you readjusted your position to avoid the blinding rays.

"Just that I'm going to need to rub the lotion on your front, liebling." He smirked.

"Mmm, alright.." You yawned and laid back down, and König pulled the ties on the sides of your bottoms but leaving the cloth loosely hanging on your body.

"I need to make sure to get all the nooks and crannies.." He whispered to you.

You nodded, eyes still closed, and he squeezed a large dollop of sunscreen onto his palm and started rubbing it onto your body.

Seeing that you were partially awake this time, he decided to be more careful and not touch you as much as he wanted to, but he still took the time to massage just under your tits, and between your thighs, giving your pussy a few rubs while making sure not to touch your clit or entrance, or go too deep.

"Mm.. König.." You groaned lightly, and he knew that it must be starting to feel good as you shifted slightly.

"Shh, mein liebling, just getting you ready for the sun. Can't have my precious hase getting sunburned." He spoke lowly, and you just groaned sleepily and lightly arched your back.

"I'm going to apply some onto your breasts, ya? Just to be safe," His fingers slipped under your bikini top and lightly pinched your nipples.

You gasped and your eyes opened wide. "K-König!" You hissed and trying to push his hands away.

"What are you doing?" You looked at him, confused, and he just gave you an innocent look.

"Your skin is so dry, hase. Do you want to get all flaky?" He asked.

"N-no, but-" You gasped when his hand cupped your tit, massaging the lotion onto the soft flesh, and you squirmed, not sure how to handle this.

"You know, we're both adults, hase.." He whispered, and your cheeks were bright red.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of," He cooed softly.

Your face was flushed as you tried to calm yourself down, letting him massage your breasts and even your tummy.

"...You're right. It's just sunscreen" You finally said.

"Exactly. There's nothing wrong with enjoying a nice massage, liebling." He smiled.

"Right.." You mumbled, and he chuckled and continued to rub the sunscreen into your body, his touch becoming more sensual and intimate.

"That's my good hase.." He cooed.

"You're going a little bit.. far, don't you think?"

"Oh, I'm just making sure the sunscreen is rubbed in good and deep, so it won't just come right off in the water. You know?" He replied, and you gulped and nodded.

"Now, if you could lift your legs for me, please, and spread them, liebling."

You whimpered and did as he said, lifting your legs and spreading them open, your bikini bottoms still barely hanging onto your hips.

"What are you- Nngh~!"

Your question was answered as König began rubbing sunscreen onto the inside of your thighs, his fingers massaging the flesh as he inched closer to your pussy, his hands squeezing and kneading the soft skin, his thumbs coming close to your clothed slit.

"Hold on, let me get more sunscreen." He pulled away and got the bottle, squeezing the bottle a bit too hard. The bottle of course, almost exploded- Making the sunscreen bottle squirt out fat dollops right onto your barely clothed pussy. 

"Oh no!" He feigned shock, "It looks like I got some of the sunscreen on your bikini, liebling."

"..So I can just wash it off." You looked at him.

"No no, that's a waste! Let me rub it in.."

"W-what?"

"Just stay still."

"B-but König-"

"Stay. Still." He commanded.

You gulped and nodded, staying still, and König's hands immediately went to your bikini bottoms, pushing them aside and rubbing the sunscreen directly on your cunt, massaging it in gently, but firmly.

"W-wait!-"

"Hush. This will only take a second, liebling."

He was being so casual and nonchalant, it was driving you insane.

You bit your lip and gripped the towels, your hands balling up the cloth in your fists as you held back moans.

König's hands were rubbing all over your pussy, his fingers brushing against your slit and clit, making you shiver and moan softly, and he chuckled.

"It's not good to waste, hase.." He murmured, and he pulled your bikini bottoms a little bit higher, making the cloth dig into your pussy, rubbing against your clit and causing you to squirm.

"Please.."

"Don't worry, liebling, i'll be done soon." He cooed, his fingers dipping into your slit, the cloth dragging across your clit, and you let out a gasp.

"That's it, hase, relax.." He whispered, and you groaned as his fingers pushed the cloth further into your cunt, rubbing the rough material on your sensitive flesh, making you whine and whimper.

"P-please.."

"Just a little bit more." He hummed, his fingers sliding the fabric back and forth over your cunt, and you shuddered and let out a soft moan, your legs trembling slightly.

"So pretty, liebling.." He cooed.

"Almost done."

König continued to rub the sunscreen into your cunt, and he finally pulled the bikini bottoms back over your slit and tied the strings.

"There we are."

"T-thank you, König." You mumbled, still flustered.

"Of course, sweetheart." He leaned down and kissed your forehead. "You know I always take care of you."

"Yeah, yeah.." You huffed and looked away, and König just chuckled.

"Come, let's go swim, hase."

"Alright.." You stood up and stretched, then took his hand, walking with him into the water.

[nanamis-bigtie]

Round 1: Hot Singles in Your Area

about, rules & navigation | remember you vote for a character you don't want to advance further

It's the first day of your long-awaited vacation. You've just unpacked, changed into a beach wear, and chosen yourself a cozy sunbed under a sunshade a few steps away from the warm sea. With a sweet drink in your hand, you poke lazily at Tinder, with no particular goal on mind except for an appetite for a hot fling. After all, what's a good trip without spicy stories to tell?

As expected from an area known for its popularity among those who are looking for wide range of sensations, you're soon flooded with a huge number of potential dates. You can be as picky as you want, you learn after a few preliminary swipes left and right—you won't run out of options easily, and if only you had time and strength to do so, you could squeeze a few nice dates out of your location.

This is going to be your most fruitful vacation to date!

Profile One: Toji Fushiguro ELIMINATED

Out of a few photos he added only one includes his face - and it's not even the one set as his profile one. You're welcomed by an awkwardly cut and angled view of his torso and arm holding the phone for a mirror shot, flash blurring the part that would reveal the lower half of his face. It's not something you would expect from a man of this kind of posture. Muscular men like to flex their assets, but he seems to try hiding them. No awkward pose or amount of baggy clothes can help with a body like his, though.

The photo where you can see him whole shows him crouching next to a dog, hand on its back. It's of bad quality but you can catch a glimpse of his expression and it's far gentler than you assumed it to be with what you've already seen.

You can't learn much from the included description. It's short, dry, written with proper grammar and spelling but with no particular care for the impression it carries. He comes across as an extremely lonely, maybe even depressed, person but there's a shadow of unwavering confidence to him. It is somewhat impressive, especially with the glimpse of his musculature visible on the photos.

Profile Two

At the first glance you can tell that this man is...a lot. A lot of charm, a lot of gleam, a lot of photos taken by a shaking hand and always under ridiculously bad angles. Every field possible is filled to its maximum capacity, and even then, a lot of words are slurred into barely legible abbreviations. Only the listed he/him pronouns are normal. You're even a bit surprised that they're so...ordinary and traditional. Such a person could easily use some extravagant neopronouns.

Upon closer look you realize he knows how to dress well. If not for the questionable quality of the photos, you would bet he hired a stylist or is a stylist himself. In contrast to his beaming personality, his style is simple and classic. His outfits could be either embarrassingly cheap or stinking expensive. You can't spot any sports cars nor trendy locations in the background, so you're ready to bet on the first option.

You like his smile, very authentic, almost overdone, adding tons to the striking contrast between his appearance and age listed in the bio. Maybe he's a college junior trying to pass as someone older to attract mature partners? He's too awkward and flamboyant to be suspicious but...yeah, his gallery really looks like a student's.

Profile Three

There are only three photos, taken exactly in the same pose, in outfits so similar to each other that at the first glance they look identical too. The man has a pleasantly looking face, but you can't shake off the impression that he's not fully comfortable posing for a picture. As if he really didn't want to be on a dating app but circumstances forced him to.

The text part of his profile is more promising. His writing style is elegant, perfectly balancing between formal and playful. He knows how to express himself without overwhelming his reader with words. You're ready to assume he's a professional writer, maybe a blogger or a journalist—or that he received excellent education at the very least.

The most impressive is the list of his hobbies and interests. He's truly tried from every plate life can offer—and he still claims to be ready to explore even more. From art and music to astrophysics, he's been everywhere, including a few of your fields. Even if your goals for the date wouldn't meet, you're ready to bet on having some quality time regardless. It seems too good to be earnest, though; with the smoothness behind his words, he could easily make it all up in a convincing way.

Profile Four

He added a few photos but in every one he's dressed in exactly the same suit, as if he didn't have any other presentable clothes. It's not a cheap suit, you can tell as much just from the way it hugs his silhouette. You wouldn't be surprised if he was a politician or businessman, maybe someone who works with finances or trade. His face is pleasant to look at but a bit tense, as if he was expecting danger hiding behind a corner. Maybe he doesn't like to have his pictures taken.

He's very straightforward about his expectations regarding his potential partners—and about what he has to offer to them. It feels a little rude but on the other hand, for someone like you, who definitely fits them, it eliminates the risk of dragging feet through the meeting that had no chance of success in the first place. He's definitely not going to beat around the bush, you're sure you're going to know whether you want to see him face to face after a single conversation.

But despite all of that there's a little feeling of an empty shell. He talks a lot about himself, but you can't say you actually know a thing about him. The distance between you two is far more palpable than on any other Tinder profile you've seen.

Profile Five

There's only one photo of him and despite the casual outfit and setting it feels more appropriate for LinkedIn than Tinder. Even if you can look at him as closely as you want and dig out plenty of information from his surroundings, he still feels like a blank card. It's too earnest to read as a mask or feel off-putting but also too private to slip into any kind of proximity. He has a very calm and pleasant expression and a general vibe of safety to him, but you can't squeeze any other impression out of what you see and it's to a point frustrating.

His description doesn't help you much. It surely was prepared with one of those "perfect Tinder profile" tutorials and filled with necessary data only. It's only one step away from dry if not for the fact he lets you know some aspects of his personality. This caution gets on your nerves a little, but you have to admit you like the style of his words.

One you can say for sure: he must love books and to be in their company. There are more titles listed than his personal data and his photo was taken in a library or a bookshop—as if he tried to tell you this is the environment in which he feels the safest.

Profile Six

You're not sure if you're more intimidated by him or drawn to him. At the first glance you can tell he's a man of great charisma, but you would lie if you said you wouldn't be concerned if you ran into him on the street. The fact that you can't decipher his expression only adds to the tingling sensation at the back of your head. He seems to be bored and proud of himself all at the same time, posing in a non-threatening way yet beaming with energy that has you alert.

The way he writes about himself is very proper and humble. You would expect it more from a scholar than a man who could crush your skull with his bicep if he only wanted. This and the fact that a lot of his photos show him in proximity of food intrigues you. Maybe it's a way to soften his appearance for the eyes of potential date, maybe a genuine liking for cooking and eating.

He puts a lot of pressure on work out and physical activity in general, both in his visual presentation and description. He doesn't have the gymrat energy but you're ready to assume he's a pro athlete, maybe related to martial arts.

Profile Seven

At the first glance you're ready to assume this man is divorced, a single father at best. He's giving this energy in tons, no matter the diversity in his photos. There's always something that gives it away and when you see him on a boat that so obviously is a fishing boat you can't help but laugh. This determination to not look as he knows he looks is endearing. He either really is a divorcé and tries to hide it or keeps getting mistaken for such and losing potential dates because of it.

His description pulls your attention away from feeling. He's way more average than you would assume from a man trying to escape the dilf allegations—but not in a boring way, quite contrary. He presents himself as a kind of a guy who's good to be around for his chameleon-like, low effort attitude. A guy you can meet with without having to be worried for his reaction if the meeting wouldn't go as intended. Or rather: a guy you could meet with exactly when you're looking for company that wouldn't lead you to bed.

You can't help but pinpoint some surrendering in him. Maybe he lost all faith in success in the field of love and kept the profile only out of obligation.

Profile Eight

It's one of the guys that makes you want to swipe right without even taking a second glance. There's something electric about him, something that would make it really hard to refuse, if he asked you for something. Wide smile, eyes beaming with energy, aesthetic yet improvised disarray in hair and clothes—he reminds you of a playful tiny dust devil that can't bring any harm but is strong enough to mess with leaves and other light objects.

He added only three photos and all of them are crowded and taken during parties. There's alcohol and snacks and so many colors it's straining for eyes if you look for too long from closely. He doesn't look like someone who would party hard—well, he doesn't even look his age—but he doesn't look out of place either. It makes sense he would be popular and easy going—and invited to every party in his proximity.

The same energy beams from his words. He's pleasant to read despite the chaotic style and tons of typos. By the time you make it to the last line, you're smiling as bright at him and find yourself hungry for getting more of him. Not in a sexual way, at least not yet, but definitely not weaker than that.

Profile Nine

Oh, this man couldn't possibly hide in the crowd even if he desperately tried to. In all photos he added he tries to look as casually and approachable as possible but he still just...stands out. What's even more interesting, in every photo he seems to be a completely different person. It's the same face and the same body without a doubt but with each he gives a completely different energy, from an extremely awkward ugly duckling to a gorgeous prime peacock. You take a wild guess it depends on whether he was aware of the camera or not—and on who was taking the photo. None of them is a selfie and it has you curious how he would present himself.

His description is curt, and he doesn't use capital letters. He speaks more about his interests than about himself, a lot of them circulate around music but the bands he lists are so obscure you can't recall a single song. 

Even so, he gives you an impression of a person who's looking less for a fling and more for a relationship—but nothing is said outright. Maybe he's not sure himself, maybe he doesn't know it's appropriate to be so outright on a dating app.

Profile Ten

You would be really surprised if this man wasn't a professional model. He doesn't say anything about it in his description but the photos he added speak for themselves. He knows how to present himself in the most positive light, smoothly underlining his assets without coming across as narcissistic or pretentious. And he knows how to dress well. His outfits are so meticulous with care it has your chest churning with a little envy.

He smiles in every photo but it's a very faint smile, visible only enough to add warmth to his face. It feels more played than genuine but serves its role right, making him approachable despite the intimidating at first appearance. In one photo he's accompanied by friends or family, and he seems to keep some distance from them, as if he didn't like to be touched.

There's close to no info given about him. Age, pronouns, gender preferences, a little about his interests—and that's it. You learn more about him by scanning through his pictures than from the bits of text. Maybe he's very close and private, maybe he prefers to express himself in a visual way, maybe a bit of both. This shadow of mystery is more intriguing than off-putting, though.

[livzblogg]

Request for you!

You have your bi-awakening while dating Bob when he introduces you to Phoenix. Instead of being put off, he invites her to your bedroom…

A little arrangement

Robert "Bob" Floyd x Reader x Natasha "Phoenix" Trace

Smut under the cut! Mdni. Everyone feel free to send requests!

You've never thought too long or hard about your sexuality. You always had crushes on your Barbies, and sometimes your high school friends looked a little too kissable, but you always brushed it off due to your attraction to men as well. You liked men, and you didn't mind dating them, so why would you ever have reason to question your sexuality?

As you grew older, and left home to move in with your boyfriend, Bob, this question occurred in your mind less and less. You love Bob. He was the perfect gentleman, and he was always very kind and attentive.

You and Bob have been living together in California for 6 months now. You both enjoy the sunny state, and you are very content where you are. When Bob gets called to Top Gun, you share his excitement, and you celebrated together. What you didn't realize at the time, was that his front seater was going to be the most attractive woman you've ever seen in your life.

You had heard Bob speak very highly of his front seater, so when he invited you to their game of beach football, you happily accepted his offer.

When you got to the beach and stepped out of the car, you immediately complained about the heat. It was 93 degrees in California today, and it was extremely humid. You immediately took off your shorts and shirt so you could relieve yourself of some of the heat.

Bob leads you down to the shore to great his friends. You happily greet everyone. Everyone is very welcoming and accepting of you. "Where is your front seater? I'm dying to meet her." you whisper in Bob's ear. "She's right there." He whispers back and points to the parking lot.

You feel your breath hitch in your throat as you see the most beautiful girl in the world walking towards the group. The old, confusing feelings of your sexuality resurface the longer you look at her. She has a perfectly tones body, with beautiful brunette hair and gorgeous brown eyes. You realize you are staring when she walks up to you and Bob and introduces herself.

"Hi, you must be Y/N? I've heard so much about you. I'm Phoenix, but you can call me Nat." she confidently says as she sticks her hand out to shake yours. "Y-yeah! It's so nice to meet you!" you stutter out. Bob sends you a weird glance as you wipe your sweaty palms on your legs before returning her handshake. "Likewise, beautiful." she says, with a wink.

You feel your heart flutter in your chest as she walks away to go speak to Fanboy and Payback. Your entire face turns bright red as you realize how awkward you acted around her. Bob quickly notices your change in complexion "Are you feeling okay, sweetheart?" he asks worriedly. You brush him off as you blame it on heat exhaustion as you go to sit under your umbrella to watch the football game unfold.

For the entirety of the game, you can't help but look at how sexy Natasha looks playing football. Her disadvantage due to her height compared to the others does not stop her, as she quickly weaves through the sea of men with no difficulty. You desperately rub your thighs together as your eyes are locked on her bicep as she hugs the football. She scores a touchdown, and as she celebrates she locks eyes with you.

The rest of the night went very well. You didn't see much more of Natasha, because she was making rounds and talking to everyone in the room while everyone ate. "You ready to get going soon?" Bob says, and snaps you out of your haze. "Yeah, sure. I'm tired." you replied.

As you begin to stand, Bob pulls you back into your seat and whispers into your ear "Do you have a little crush on Phoenix, baby?" with a smile in his voice. You immediately freeze and begin stuttering, unsure of how to respond. He chuckles into your ear and says "It's okay, baby. It's totally normal". You sigh in relief as Bob tells you to go get settled in the car while he says his goodbyes.

As you get into the car, waiting for Bob, you find the ominous question back in your head. Why do you have these feelings for Natasha? Why does it feel so right? Your thoughts are quickly shut off when Bob hops into the car and slams the car door shut.

Before Bob can start the car, the back door of the car opens and closes. As you turn around to see who is in the car, you are met with Nat's smiling face. You feel your face heat up as you confusedly look at Bob. "I invited Nat over to our house for the night. I also told her about your feelings for her. Her and I talked, and we figured that maybe we could come up with a little... arrangement. Only if you're comfortable" Bob says with a smirk on his face.

Natasha cups your cheek and turns your head and locks eyes with you as she says "Do you want this? Do you want both of us?". Before she can even fully finish the question, you are already eagerly nodding your head with excitement.

Bob chuckles at your reaction as he starts the car and begins to drive away. "We can figure out the logistics of everything tomorrow, but for tonight we can just have a little fun, okay baby?" Bob whispers into your ear as he speeds down the interstate. The car ride is tense, so you find yourself getting nervous as you pull into the driveway of you and Bob's shared house.

Natasha opens your car door, and as you step out of the car, she grabs your waist and says "Bob and I will meet you in your bedroom in 5 minutes. When we get in there, you better be naked and on your knees next to the bed, okay princess?". You nod eagerly and rush upstairs and into your bedroom.

You quickly strip your clothes and eagerly fall to your knees, waiting for Bob and Natasha to meet you in the bedroom. A few moments later, Bob and Natasha open the door to see you waiting for them, just as instructed. They are both naked as they walk through the door, and you whine in arousal.

They both smile as they tower over you. Natasha puts her thumb on your lips and you open your mouth to suck on her finger. "Such a good girl. Bob, she's such a patient and obedient girl, don't you think?" Natasha groans. Bob nods in agreement as he mutters "She is such a perfect girl for us".

You feel giddy from the praise you are receiving, and Natasha retracts her thumb from your mouth as she orders you to get onto the bed. You happily get off of your knees and lay back onto the bed. Natasha climbs on top of you and begins pressing soft kisses onto your mouth. You happily return these kisses. Eventually the kiss escalates and she pushes her tongue into your mouth.

You feel yourself growing wetter as your tongues battle for dominance. Natasha presses kisses down your body until she reaches your tits. "Bob, eat her pretty pussy. Get our good girl ready for me" she mutters out between kisses and licks to your chest. Bob instantly agrees as he positions himself between your legs.

Bob begins with kitten licks to our clit as he inserts two fingers and curls them up, immediately finding your sweet spot. You let out a loud moan as Bob excitedly licks your clit with his tongue and is fingering your g-spot perfectly, while Natasha is sucking your nipples and pinching them in between her fingers.

The pleasure becomes overwhelming as they both enthusiastically please you at the same time. Your moans and whines soon become much louder, as you feel yourself being brought to the edge very quickly.

Just before you reach your peak, Bob retracts his fingers and tongue. You whine in frustration as Natasha also pulls away from your tits. Natasha mockingly strokes your head as she says "Aw, baby. You'll be coming soon, I promise".

She presses a haste kiss to your lips before climbing on top of you and sliding her legs between yours. Her pussy is just inches away from where you need her most. You let out a loud moan as she presses your clits together. Bob pants in the corner as he strokes himself at the sight.

Natasha rubs your pussies together with vigor. Your wetness easily aides her movements, and makes the pleasure more intense. Natasha strokes your sexes together aggressively and she lets out the most pornographic moans as she throws her head back. You take this opportunity to leave kisses on her throat.

This brings Natasha closer to her edge, and she begins moving faster, which brings you closer to the edge as well. You kiss each other, and moan into each other's mouths before you both come together.

Natasha pants and stills her movement before she turns her focus to Bob, who is a whimpering mess. His cock is an angry red, and his entire body is flushed. His hair is messy, and he has a look in his eyes of pure need.

"Are you gonna let Bob fuck you, angel?" Nat asks you as she gets up and stands beside the bed. "Yes, yes please fuck me, Bob. I need it right now" you whine out as Bob moves over to the bed and gets on top of you.

You and Bob let out a content sigh as he enters you. "Fuck, I'm not gonna last long" Bob groans as he sits back on his heels while he begins fucking you. Natasha takes this as an opportunity to give attention to your clit while Bob roughly fucks you.

Her lips attach to your clit, and your back immediately arches off of the bed. Bob begins thrusting harder and faster as Nat continues licking and sucking at your clit. You and Bob both let out loud moans as you come together, his cum filling you up perfectly.

Bob pants as he recovers from his orgasm, and he finally pulls out to watch his cum drip out of your pussy. At this time, Nat comes back from the bathroom with a washcloth to help you clean up. Once she has cleaned you, she helps you go to the bathroom, and then helps you get tucked into bed. Bob and Nat are on either side of the bed, while you are in the middle.

They both cuddle up to you, and you sigh in content. It is no longer a question. You have no doubt in your mind that you are bisexual. Your heart soars with pride at the thought. You give Bob and Nat each a kiss before you feel yourself drifting to sleep. Excited for the conversation in the morning about how you will be able to be in a relationship with these two amazing people.

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Part 2 to Young ASL X Eri? Where Eri meets Garp for the first time?

When Ace, Sabo and Luffy were arguing over having a chef when they become pirates, only for Garp to come in (Startling Eri as she hides behind Makino seeing a new face)

Eri however runs in front of Ace, Sabo and Luffy to defend them from getting punched again, with Garp surprised but in awe seeing as how he has a granddaughter!

Eri is trying to distract Garp from punching her brothers, which he caught on to, but allowed it so he can spoil his newest grandchild!

-You had been adopted by the ASL trio, the three slightly older boys treating you like a little sister, telling you to call them all big brothers, which you had no problems doing as they were so nice and kept you safe!

-You flourished under their love and care, smiling more, learning to explore and learn about the world around you, and you were becoming a bit more trusting of others.

-Dadan was another who was quite protective, as you were a girl, and wouldn’t hesitate to put anyone, her men or your brothers, in their place to keep you safe, but whenever you mentioned it, thanking her, she would just flush and get embarrassed, telling you to shut up, but you learned that she was just shy, or that’s what Sabo told you.

-You were playing with Luffy and Sabo in a clearing, the three of you waiting on Ace to arrive so you could all go exploring again, as you had asked to see the beach.

-Ace ran into the clearing, looking frantic, “Garp’s here!” you didn’t know who that was, but Sabo and Luffy did as they both panicked, which concerned you, worried that this was someone dangerous or scary.

-The trees around you started rustling, like something was coming and Ace quickly grabbed you and tossed you into some nearby bushes, not hurting you, but getting you to safety.

-When you peeked out, you saw a huge man who was older, holding Ace with one hand and Luffy with the other, while Luffy was yelling, “Let go grandpa!!” you knew what a grandpa was, but you were curious as to why your big brothers seemed so scared of him.

-Your eyes widened when he whacked each of them on the top of the head, leaving a lump, yelling at them for being little brats and not behaving right.

-When Garp when to punch Ace again, who talked back to Garp for hitting him, you ran out, leaping in front of them, tears in your eyes, “Please don’t hurt my big brothers!!”

-Everything instantly froze as you appeared, your arms stretched out and tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. Garp was wide-eyed looking down at you as you sniffled softly, “Don’t- don’t hurt them!”

-As the tears fell instantly Garp had you in his arms, hugging you close, trying to calm you down, “I’m not hurting them- see- grandpa’s being nice!” you sniffled softly, your little hands up by your face as your brothers were also trying to calm you down, so you didn’t use your ability to heal them.

-Garp was soon sitting with you on his knee, listening to your tale alongside your brothers, who found you, and how they had adopted you as big brothers. Garp always loved the idea of having grandchildren, but when these brats wanted to be pirates and act out, he had to discipline them to get them back on track.

-When the ASL Trio and Garp started arguing on which was better, being a marine or a pirate, your little head kept turning to both sides, trying to follow why they were arguing, but as they started getting more heated, more tears welled in your eyes, “You’re not gonna fight again, are you grandpa?”

-Garp was instantly all smiles, holding you up, “Of course not my little Y/N! Grandpa’s just going to play with you!” your eyes went big before you smiled, “Really?”

-Garp paused, setting you down beside Sabo before he fell over, clutching his heart, crying obnoxiously on how adorable you were, which did confuse you a bit.

-Ace grabbed your hand, pulling you behind him and the four of you took off running to get away from Garp, who was quick to yell at the boys for their antics.

-The boys didn’t feel bad using you to get away from Garp and his punishments, throwing you at him as he would be all smiles, treating you like you’re mad of glass, doting so sweetly on you. Garp knew what they were doing with you, and he would get them back later when you weren’t around, as he didn’t want to make you cry.

-Garp enjoyed spending time with you, and he offered to take you with him, so he could raise you and you could be a marine, but you just shook your head, “I like exploring with my big brothers!” and all he did was ruffle your hair, minding your horn.

-When you arrived at Dadan’s, she quickly had you in her arms as you cried loudly, seeing your brothers all black and blue, punished by Garp for their antics as Dadan was yelling, going to go after Garp for making you cry.

-Your brothers didn’t let you heal them, as they didn’t want to put you at risk, but they did cuddle you, helping you calm down until you fell asleep. They had to keep you from Garp- they didn’t want him to take you and turn you into a marine- you were going with them in the future and going to be a pirate!

[francixoxoxo]

⋆.✧˚𓇼𝒫ℯ𝒶𝓇𝓁𝓈 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝒮𝒶𝓃𝒹 𓆝𓆟

𝐏𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞!𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐝 𝐗 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐝!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲, 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐮𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭 𝐚 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐰 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫, 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝. 𝐘𝐨𝐮, 𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐝, 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐫, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧’𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐲.

𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭

Sorry for the wait but i couldnt bear hyping it up and putting out less than my best!! This au is my baby 🤭 @milliesfishes for supporting me through this whole idea!!! Enjoy!!

The sea was entrancing.

She drew you in. She let you believe she was docile, but it wasn’t a lie. She was beautiful and generous, the sea. Frequently kind, but she was suddenly and at a whim cruel.

Billy had been absolutely in love with the sea since boyhood, growing up along the coast with his mother and brother, Joe. About as in love as a man could be with an indescribable force. A force he could not hope to understand. Understanding the sea, in his mind, was accepting that even if you were to know, you couldn’t get. He was all right with that.

Now that the sea seemingly wanted to thrash his body ‘round and drown the life from his lungs, well, he supposed he might’ve deserved it. Billy could see his life stretching before him, similar to the vastness of the same sea threatening to take that life, and frankly? He didn’t like the looks of things. He didn’t like the path he was on, a pirate on a crew of scum who did nothing but take. Take from the sea. Take from women. Take from innocents.

Perhaps, Billy thought, this was the sea gently cutting his thread short before it frayed. Letting him gracefully leave the stage, as a pirate with a reputation for violence despite his true, kind-hearted nature. Letting him exit before the former drowned out the latter.

Perhaps this was the sea embracing him as he had always embraced her.

Just a moment ago Billy had been slamming his fist into Ollinger’s jaw. That dick, Billy thought bitterly, though he didn’t want his last thoughts to be of the scraggly bastard. He’d just been begging for it, ever since he came aboard. He let the older man throw the first punch, but he was a fool to think that Billy wouldn’t fight back.

It all happened very quick. Suddenly, the wooden railing was digging into Billy’s back. He whipped his head over his shoulder, gaping at the waves rushing by the moving boat. He was scrambling to find purchase, to get back to his feet, but Ollinger made it impossible. “Bob, Bob, hey— don’t— Ollinger, stop. Don’t do this—“

Ollinger sneered at Billy, panting like a dog and obviously relishing in the other man’s panick. He snorted, rolling his shoulder to shake off the hand of a crewmate. The tussle was gaining some attention from the other men.

“Hope y’can swim, Kid.” Ollinger spat, shoving Billy into the waters below.

Oh, fresh air was freedom.

You’d certainly get in trouble with your mother for being above the surface, but that seldom worried you anymore. You felt such a powerful sense of freedom, such a compelling desire to do what you were forbidden against.

It felt like discovery.

Yes, sometimes you longed to gush to your many sisters about your findings, the breeze, the beautiful stars and the warmth of the sun. But it felt nice, sometimes, to keep it all to yourself. The secluded beach you’d lay upon, watching the sand run through your fingers— it was for you. You’ve never had anything completely and truly of your own.

Today you weren’t particularly in the mood for the shore of the nearby port town. You were laying out on some rocks a ways away instead. That was the beauty of this thing, the secret you had to yourself— you could do exactly as you pleased!

Well. Exactly as you pleased until it came to men.

You’d slipped underwater from the rocks you were sunning yourself on when the boat approached. Despite what everybody seemed to think, you weren’t that foolish. You knew that a mermaid laying on the rocks was like finding a nice steak in the middle of the desert. The thought irked you, but you couldn’t ignore the myths that every part of your body would sell for plenty in a market.

From what your mother and sisters have told you? Men were monsters. Men’d harpoon a woman like you through the chest before you could open your mouth to speak. You’d been told horror stories about sailors cutting mermaids at the hip, selling their tails and locks of their hair.

But you were certain those stories were fake, conjured by cruel adolescent girls to torment their little sister. Not that you had much of a reason to believe otherwise.

You reminded yourself of that as you held onto the rocks, peeking your eyes out of the water and watching the vessel. It was close enough for you to see the commotion on board; two men having it out, one much broader and younger, but one with an obvious thirst to see the other one bleed. It was in their nature, you supposed.

It was dangerous to be watching so close. Your mother’s reprimanding words rang in your ears. But the boat was moving so slowly, as if the tussle was begging for your eyes on it.

Before you knew it, harmless, boyish punches and wrestling turned into one man being held over the railing. The broader man was falling into the sea, the men aboard shouting their lungs out. With the size of the boat? The height of his fall and the current today? Oh, he hardly had a chance.

You waited a moment. Then another. Your eyes flickered twixt the boat and where the water rippled from the man’s fall, chest heaving with the thumping of your heart. You couldn’t just leave him to drown, you thought as you counted ten seconds underwater. It was obvious the undertow had him. You forgot the old tales about violent men— your conscience outweighed your fear.

You were swimming to him in an instant. He was still trying to swim against the current, poor thing. You wrapped your arms around his middle, clearly shocking him, because he writhed in your arms and turned to look at you with wide eyes. Oh, what pretty eyes he had. The deepest of blues, a pure and clear color, one that struck through your chest and into your heart. Before you knew it, those eyes were fluttering shut, his stiff body going limp in your arms.

Enough staring. You reminded yourself that you were supposed to be saving him.

You swam as fast as your tail could take you, gliding through the water effortlessly. You glanced down at the man, only for a brief moment, distressed to see that his eyes were still closed. God, why were humans so stupidly fragile?

Soon enough you were lifting him onto the shore, even putting the effort to haul him onto the dry sand. Maybe the heat of the sun-warmed grains would help, you thought, eyes wandering to his legs. You felt more calm than you should’ve around a human man.

You leaned over him, folding your glittering tail under yourself. The water in his lungs wouldn’t kill him, you were certain. Just to be sure, you pressed your lips to his, coaxing the fluid from his lungs. Nothing more than curtesy, you told yourself. Only because a kiss from your kind could let a man breath through water. You were careful to wipe it from his chin as he choked it out. You spooked a bit, wondering if the man’d wake, but no. He was still unconscious.

With that comfort, you leaned your face close to him, squinting at his features. He didn’t seem vicious.

You stroked your pointer finger along the slope of his aquiline nose, intrigued. He was quite handsome, really. The set of his mouth and his plush lips, he just seemed kind. Out of curiosity, you pushed your fingernail under his top lip, lifting it and finding that his teeth were not in fact razor-sharp, like your mother had told you. You hummed, pleased.

You couldn’t help stroking the backs of your fingers along his jaw, his forehead, his stubbled cheeks.. you rather liked the rough texture under your skin. Curiously, you leaned your face closer to his, narrowing your eyes at the man.

You’d been told men were dangerous. But this one didn’t seem so bad.

Your hand drifted down to lay over his chest, feeling the strong thump of his heartbeat under your palm. What a relief! Your other elbow rested above his opposite shoulder, your face hovering over his. You brushed your hair off his forehead, the dripping locks falling around your face and onto his. He was certainly more handsome than the mermen where you were from. You didn’t fight the excited smile splitting your lips.

The man’s eyelashes began to flutter, though, and you pushed yourself a bit further above him out of curtesy. His eyes opened a crack, then a bit more upon realizing he wasn’t in fact looking into the sun, but a woman, a beautiful one at that. His blue eyes twinkled, and for a moment he just stared, and you did the same.

Well, what could you say?

“Hey.” The man mumbled, his brows drawing together and a faint smile stretching his features. Oh, he wasn’t just handsome, he was gorgeous.

You hadn’t moved your hand from his heartbeat, you could feel the rhythm of it accelerating. “Hi.”

“S’ this heaven?” He asked, voice low and gravelly from the saltwater. “You an angel?” His eyes flicked downward, settling on your chest. His dark brows lifted, as if there was something surprising down there, you looked down at yourself. No, nothing special. Though you did notice that he was wearing fabric over his own chest. Maybe a cultural difference.

It wasn’t until the man’s eyes drifted further down—catching a glimpse of the way your hips melted into iridescent scales, a tail of blues, pinks and purples, colors impossible for a man to name— that his blue eyes became buggy, his brows drawing again.

“Or a mermaid?”

Billy was entranced from the moment his eyes fluttered open and you were looming over him.

It was something indescribable. Something about you, some radiant, iridescent glow hanging around you, some unknowable way about you— it was as if just the glimmer in your eyes put a spell on him. You were otherworldly.

The simplest of hellos from you was all he needed to fall head over feet, the sweet flutter of your eyelashes all he needed to be at your whims.

Billy only understood just what it was about you that was so opalescent, so undoubtably esoteric, when he glanced down to see that where your hips would’ve connected to a pair of legs, there was only a tail. A tail full of beautiful scales shimmering colors like stained glass in a cathedral, the sunlight moving over the sleek of them similar to the way the light danced over the waves washing onto the shore.

a tail. A mermaid.

Well, it wasn’t like Billy’s never heard of one. No, quite the opposite. Practically every man on his crew (his crew, the image of Ollinger brought a sour taste to his mouth,) raved about some time or other that they’d encountered a mermaid. Dick claimed to have caught one, but that it slipped away when he turned his back. Jesse said once he heard the melodic voice of one.

Ollinger, that bastard, said that on his old crew, they got one in their fishing nets. Hauled her aboard, had a good cheers, and—

“What’d you even do with her?” Billy had asked, furrowing his brow. It irked him to imagine just what pirates had to do with such majestic creatures, creatures with a heart and a soul just as they had.

Well. Probably a heart and soul of a purer kind. “Well, y’sell the tail, that’s the big one.” A cruel smile had spread over Bob Ollinger’s cheeks, one that dripped with a devilish greed that flashed behind Billy’s eyes like a warning sign. “We cut her straight ‘cross at the belly. Y’shoulda heard her cryin’, Kid, ya woulda gone green over the railing.” Billy certainly felt green then.

Looking up at you now, meeting your enthralling eyes, recalling Ollinger and by association the mortifying chill of saltwater enveloping him, he came to a sure conclusion. “I almost drowned.” Billy breathed.

You just nodded your pretty little head, eyes suddenly round and doey. He was beginning to wonder if he imagined you speaking. Billy went on, voice soft and low, meant only for your ears. “N’ you saved me.”

A shy smile overtook your lips, which he’d dare say were perfectly shaped. “I did.” There was that voice. You could speak. Oh, and something about your timbre was so unbelievably melodic, a lilted and sweet alto. But he tried to stay on track.

“Why?” Billy’s eyebrows drew together, his forehead creasing as he grimaced. He shook his head a bit, daring to rest his calloused hand over your soft one on his chest. It felt a bit like getting dirt on a diamond, his roughened, fishhook-pierced and rope-scathed fingertips over your gentle knuckles. But the warmth of it was something he wasn’t sure he could move away from.

“It just..” You frowned suddenly, those pretty eyes becoming downcast. The very ends of your eyelashes were blonde against your sun-kissed cheeks, he noticed. “Seemed like the right thing to do. I couldn’t leave you there.”

Billy shook his head, swallowing hard. The painful action twisted his face in a wince. “You could’ve.” He murmured, lifting your hand up to his eyes to squint. He wasn’t sure what he expected. Perfectly normal. Though maybe the webbing twixt your fingers was a bit longer, you could’ve passed as a human woman. Besides the long, oval sharpness to your fingernails. Certainly not like razors, but still.

You seemed to be flattered by his foggy-minded curiosity, because you twisted your hand to hold his, your fingers intertwining. “Well. I didn’t want to.” You cooed in a cheerful, nearly teasing voice.

A heart and soul of a purer kind, Billy thought.

He let a lopsided grin overtake his plush lips, and you mirrored him with the sweetest, most unbelievably beautiful smile he’d ever seen. Christ, he barely— no, he didn’t know you at all, and he was beginning to wonder if he’d throw himself back into the tide at your request.

“How’d you get me breathin’ again?” Billy couldn’t help but ask, a shiver running up his spine at the hollow memory. It had been like water invaded every one of his senses, the life choked out of him excruciatingly. How could he possibly have come back from that?

You hummed in amusement, shrugging your shoulders simply, “a kiss.”

“A kiss?” Billy breathed, his brows lifting. You just hummed affirmatively. He supposed he ought not to question it. Though he sorely regretted missing a kiss from you.

Your free hand was curiously inspecting his own hand, his knuckles, the splay of sand-sprayed hair over his exposed forearms. Maybe it was then that Billy realized you were inspecting him just as curiously as he was watching you.

“I’m Billy.” He breathed after a moment. He wasn’t sure why you’d care to know, but it just slipped out. A part of him desperately hoped that name would mean something to you.

You smiled softly, testing how the name felt on your tongue. “Billy.” You repeated. You rather liked the ring of it. You told him your own name in a lilted voice.

“Suits you.” Was all Billy could manage, his eyes greedily drinking you in, trying to commit you to memory. You shifted a bit, leaning a little further down to him, your wet tresses falling around yours and Billys faces like a silky privacy curtain. Oh, your hair smelled like amber and fresh laundry, Billy wondered how that could even be.

But he was beginning to think that questioning any bit of you was moot.

So Billy was content to stare up at you for a few moments, the sea breeze mussing his hair, sand probably finding its way into the dark locks, catching in his eyelashes. “You a daredevil or something?” It was silly of him to say, he knew, but he couldn’t help trying to draw a laugh out of you. A stupid smile overtook his own lips as a giggle spilled from yours.

“What does that mean?” You shook your head, that warm smile pushing your rosy cheeks up and crescenting your bright eyes. Billy’s mind was hazy still, his voice low and a bit slurred as he shrugged. “S’ a little dangerous, for a mermaid t’be up here, don’t y’think?”

You hummed a little thoughtfully, casting a long glance to the sea. The waves were lapping gently against the sand, cresting and falling languidly yet with purpose. “Maybe.” You pressed your lips, brows lifting. “I think it’s worth the risk.”

Billy grunted in acknowledgement, his eyes still flicking over your face, your sun-tanned and freckled shoulders, your dark tresses (poignantly avoiding your breasts peeking from beneath the strands,) and of course your tail. He wasn’t looking at you like an object to buy or sell for his own gain or pleasure. He was looking at you like a sculpture, like a temple of a religion he’d willingly devote his life to, that he’d willingly pray to and worship.

You just had that effect, you supposed. It wasn’t off putting, but it certainly put a silly, girlish feeling in your stomach and a smile on your face. It was a good feeling, how Billy was admiring you.

“I should go.” You murmured, your eyes flicking back to the tide as you tucked some hair behind your ear. Splitting the curtain. You could guess that the boat would come to port in less than an hour, and surely they’d come looking for Billy. “You should wait at the dock for your crew.”

Billy’s brows drew together, suddenly alarmed by the thought of going away from you. “Will I see you again?” His lips parted over his teeth in a grimace, he shook his head. “I don’t mean t’sound…” No. He discarded the idea of apologizing, of letting you slip through his fingers like water.

“I wanna see you again.” Billy murmured, the sincerity in his sapphire eyes striking. You’d absolutely enchanted this man.

You pressed your lips together again. Could you really trust him? Truly, really trust him enough to meet him again, and risk becoming a horror story to be told to some other little girl? Your curiosity would be the death of you, your mother had always warned. “You may.”

A lopsided smile overtook Billy’s lips, his brows raising. It was better than nothing, he supposed. It’d be silly for him to expect a single thing from you; he was only a man, after all, and you were this ethereal, otherworldly woman. He brought your hand to his lips, kissing the backs of your fingers tenderly.

“Then ‘till I see you again,” Billy mumbled your name nearly reverently, watching as you slipped away from him with a sugar-sweet smile and a twinkle in your eyes. Watching as you disappeared into the tides.

It was very, very possible he’d never see you again. Oh, that thought was like swallowing an anchor. If he never saw you with his own eyes, Billy thought, he’d certainly see you in dreams.

The moment he stepped back onto the Seven Rivers he was met with Bob Ollinger’s scraggly, dog-like face. He was standing beside Jesse, who had a guilty expression. Come to think of it, the whole crew was hardly looking at Billy, like he was a horse with a bad leg or something. Like they all felt guilty for letting Ollinger throw him overboard.

“No hard feelings, Kid?” Ollinger sniffed, curling his ugly lip at Billy. He narrowed his eyes, looking twixt him and Jesse.

“Just a few.” Billy grunted, pushing a hand through his wet hair. Within moments, that strange tension dissolved from the crew, and then came the loads of questions. How had he survived seemed to be the overall sentiment.

Billy could only shrug, give the credit to God. He wasn’t sure why the notion of telling these guys about you felt.. wrong. Perhaps it was his own selfish desire to keep you to himself (though he really never had you,) or perhaps it felt like ratting you out, sending rotten men on your trail. Perhaps both.

A few torturous days passed. Absolutely tortuous.

Billy cast endless longing glances into the waves, hoping with all the strength of his heart that he’d see you. You’d stuck in his mind like glue, enrapturing every crevice with your sweet voice, your kind eyes, your opalescence.

He’d never felt like such a wistful fool. Frankly, he was beginning to wonder if you were a figment of his imagination, that in his dazy, water-logged state he’d been seeing mirages.

In his hopeless effort to hold onto the fleeting memory of you, while the rest of the crew went out drinking in the town pub, Billy stayed back to ‘watch the ship.’ In reality he was slipping off his boots and stuffing his socks into them, rolling up his trousers to mid-calf and walking along the shore.

The moonlight danced on the dark tide, the cold water and sea foam swirling around his feet. The only light was that moonlight, demure and casting the beach in an ethereal glow that was painfully reminiscent of you.

Billy was a fool to think he’d truly see you again, wasn’t he?

He treaded wearily on the sand, his worn boots in hand, his azure eyes flicking twixt the sea and his feet. This must’ve been that siren’s effect, that spell that so many sailors had warned him of. You had such a tight hold on his mind.

Billy thought he was imagining it, those first faint notes. He tried shaking it off, but the further he walked along the water the song only grew louder. An ethereal alto, a voice that could pierce through titanium and straight to a man’s soul.

He began to walk with more purpose. The voice became louder, louder and clearer, your words shining brightly through the notes. He was absolutely certain they were yours.

“And you want to travel with her, and you want to travel blind,”

“and you know that she will trust you, for you’ve touched her perfect body with her mind.”

“And Jesus was a sailor when he walked upon—“

You stopped singing, that beautiful sound dying in your throat as you felt his presence. You shifted on the rock you’d been sitting on, jutting out from the shore and hanging slightly over the tide. Your tail shone under the moonlight, dancing on your scales and casting them nearly silver. No, not silver. Opal. Pale yet full of color. Billy could tell that much, as you twisted to look at him, dark tresses falling over your back.

Billy approached slowly, as if you’d spook and slip through his fingers again. “S’ you.” He breathed, shaking his head in a bit of disbelief. Oh, the smile that overtook your sweet lips lifted the weight off his heart.

“Little old me.” You hummed, eyes crinkling with mirth. Maybe you sung a little tune on purpose. Maybe you just wanted to lure him close, ‘cause you knew that your angelic voice would reel him in like a sunfish on a fishing line.

Billy sat on the ledge of the rock, setting his worn boots on his other side and leaning to you. You were sprawled across the length of the rock, your tail laid out and your upper half held up by your hands behind you. He twisted to you, you turned to look at him.

“I wanted to see you again, too.” You smiled, relishing in the way those puppy-dog eyes twinkled at you.

Billy chuckled a bit, shaking his head again. He was beaming. You wanted to meet him? “Aren’t I lucky?”

“Why would you be lucky?” You furrow your brows, shifting to fold your tail underneath you and scoot beside him. Billy watched you move, shrugging and trying his best to keep his eyes off your body.

“Ain’t like just any man gets the pleasure of your company.” Billy smiled goofily and lopsided, but his tone was smooth.

You hummed thoughtfully, watching him look out to the ocean. “Well, you aren’t just any man.” In his eyes, there’s not a damn thing about him worth your time. But he’s not seeing himself through yours. You find him unbelievably handsome, rugged yet kind. If you thought him anything like the stories of cruel men, why would you be here with him?

You tell him so. Billy smiles shyly, looking down at his lap and his calloused hands. “I hope m’not.”

“If you try not to be, that already means you aren’t. Not deep down.” You coo. That little smile of his grows into a grin as you reach for his hand, turning it over and pressing a smooth little shell into his palm.

In the moonlight, the soft cream looks almost an ethereal blue. Billy turns it over carefully, as if he’ll crack it. The inside is a rich purple, one that fades into a soft lavender at the edges. “F’me?”

“Mhm.” You can’t resist a giggle. You figured the best way to get acquainted would be a little gift. “If you come back, I could give you more.” You add cheekily, your girlish joy practically glowing from you.

Billy laughs a bit. As if he needs any incentive to want to see you. “Y’know, I don’t need any reason t’come back besides seein’ your face.” He chuckles, looking up at you. Christ, you really are gorgeous. More gorgeous when his mind isn’t waterlogged and his eyes aren’t hazy.

Another smile graces your lips. You bow your head, picking at your fingers in your lap. Your lap of shimmering scales— another reminder of how different you are from this man. You can’t help mumbling, “You barely know me.”

“Y’know, that’s a reason t’come back. T’get t’know you.” Billy coos, tilting his head to meet your eyes. When your brows draw sweetly he adds lowly, “I really, really wanna know you.”

A soft sigh escapes your lips. The way he murmurs those words deeply, the sincerity in his eyes, his undeniable interest in you… Oh, what trouble this could get you in!

But those lips, plush and soft, they’d been calling to you. Butterflies scattered across your stomach, an excited smile creeping across your own lips just before you burst forward and kissed him. Immediately his roughened hand came up to gently cradle your face, his forehead creasing as he kissed you with all the tenderness such a rugged man could muster.

Your lips were as close to heaven as he’d ever get, Billy knew.

You filled his every sense as you had for the past week. But this was much more real. He regretted his need for oxygen, one that you apparently didn’t know he had, since you only chased after his lips until they disconnected. Billy chuckled breathlessly.

You leaned away, a bit sheepish. “Sorry.” Billy just shook his head absentmindedly. His blue eyes twinkled with mirth and awe as you went on with a shy glint in your eye. “I’ve never done that before.”

Billy cracked a grin, a snort leaving his nose as he let his hand fall from your cheek to your bare shoulder. His callouses were a welcome sensation on your smooth skin. “You kiddin’ me?” A giggle bubbled past your lips as you shook your head passionately.

“Well, aren’t I lucky?” Billy breathes, repeating himself and wondering if he looked like a fool, with eyes so bright with admiration for you. But who could blame him? He felt as though he was in the presence of an angel. God, if he was your first kiss, he wanted to be your last.

It was a strange feeling. Perhaps an hour ago Billy resigned to never know the whimsical feeling of your attention again. A blessing, to be allowed to touch you. A blessing to know you. A blessing to be here with you.

You were a blessing of your own. The sea had given him one of her daughters, if only for a moment.

[its-time-to-write]

Hi there!! I absolutely adore your writing, and I was wondering if I could request a little something about Jamie being your guest to a wedding?? Just something sweet and fluffy because I feel like he’d be a spectacular wedding date. Love you!!

Here you go! Haven’t been able to write as much this week, I had finals and in between tests and papers, I’ve been pretty much living at the doctor’s. My brain is feeling a little fried, so I hope this is a coherent fic because I’ve tried to proofread a bunch and it all just looks like squiggles to me, so… anon, if you read this, send me your honest feedback in my inbox. Love ya!🍊💚

i’m glad you exist

“What’s this?” Jamie asks from his position on your kitchen island. 

You glance up from the stove. “What’s what?” 

He holds up an envelope rimmed in gold. 

“Oh, that’s an invite to my old roommate’s wedding. Remember I told you about her? Calls everyone ‘queen?’”

Jamie’s face shows recognition. “Right, yeah, she the one dating that motivational speaker?”

You laugh. “Yeah, they got together a month after I met her. He lived one floor down. Anyway, their wedding’s in a few months so I left the invitation out so I’d remember to RSVP.”

Jamie’s engrossed in the details on the invitation. “Says you can bring a plus one.”

“Yeah,” you reply, “probably won’t though. It’s back home, so, it’s not just a weekend-type deal. My mom and dad want me to come stay for like a week and a half.” You turn back to the stove and narrowly avoid burning the food. “You like your dinner a little crispy, right?”

“Babe,” Jamie says slowly, “you stayin’ with your parents?”

“Nah,” you say, transferring the food onto plates, “too crowded. And loud. My mom always has all the grandkids over all the time.” Your older sister has two kids, and your older brother has three. “She offered, but I told her I’d just get an AirBnB or something.”

“Y’know,” he says, taking the plates and moving to the table, “it’s on the off season. Don’t have any branding deals that week either.”

“Jamie,” you begin, a smile beginning to spread across your face, “are you offering to go to this wedding with me? And meet my parents?”

Jamie shrugs nonchalantly. 

“You are!” you say gleefully, “Oh my god, my mom is going to lose her mind. You know she absolutely loves you, right? She talks about their trip out here all the time. And this time you can meet my whole family, like my sister and her husband, they’re definitely my favorite because my niece and I have the same middle name. Plus my brother is always busy with work and his wife is cool, I guess, but we don’t have a lot in common? Except one time we watched High School Musical together, and she knew all the dances and all the words! It was crazy. And we’ll definitely have to go to the beach, do you know how to surf-?”

You ramble on happily as Jamie just grins at you, digging into his food. 

—

It’s wedding week, and your dad picks you up from the airport. You and Jamie are on your way to your parents’ house before checking into your own house and you’re confident that most of your family is going to be there. Your parents are the only ones who have met Jamie in person, and right now your dad and Jamie are in the front of the car chatting on about who knows what. You just know you’re tired, and you’re grateful that your dad picked you up a coffee. You’re probably going to steal Jamie’s too, because he does not need more energy and yours is gone way too quick. It’s nice to be home. The sun is shining, and the streets are familiar. You’re looking forward to seeing your old friends, and showing off your gorgeous footballer boyfriend.

They’d all heard about him of course, and were more than thrilled that you had finally found someone who actually liked being around you. That sounds terrible. You’re not annoying. You just have a habit of being with men who see you as a chore, not for the wonderful person you are. The person Jamie sees you to be.

You’re pulling into the driveway, and just as you suspected, the entire family is there. You notice your brother’s Range Rover and your sister’s Jeep. You smile to yourself. How very like them.

You hop out of the car, grab Jamie’s hand, and the door is open before you even make it all the way up to it. Your mom’s arms are open for a hug which you reach for except she turns away at the last moment and hugs Jamie first?

“Mom!” you say, laughing, “I’m your literal daughter and I haven’t seen you in forever!”

She smiles and pinches Jamie’s cheek. “I’ve spent more time with you than with him. You’ll survive.”

She wraps you in a warm hug then says, “Come meet the family, Jamie! And you’re staying for dinner. You can get to your house after you’ve taken a break.”

You shake your head and Jamie just grins. Poor boy has no idea what he’s getting himself into.

—

Jamie was thoroughly interrogated by your family, including your nieces and nephews (“Why do you call it football instead of soccer? Did you bring us candy?”). You’re both so exhausted that as soon as you walk through the door of your AirBnB, you collapse onto the bed, fully clothed.

—

It’s the day of the wedding, and you’re stressed. You’d been fine until the exact moment that you and Jamie began walking up to the venue. Everything is fine, you’re walking hand-in-hand, but then you just stop. 

“Jamie,” you say, tugging on his hand, “Jamie I can’t do this.”

He turns to you in surprise. “What d’you mean you can’t do this?” 

“I mean, it’s a lot of people I haven’t seen in forever and I don’t know, I’m just freaking out.”

Jamie laughs of all things. “Babe, it’s all right. Look, you’re with me, yeah? And I’m fucking amazin’. And you’re fucking amazin’. So whatever you’re worried about, ain’t a problem.”

Sometimes you forget how cocky Jamie can be. And how much it can boost your confidence. 

You blow out a breath. “Thanks babe. You’re right, it’ll be fine.”

—

It was more than fine. Like, way more than fine. Your friend looked lovely, and she was overjoyed to see you, and Jamie was the absolute best. He befriended your entire table and insisted you dance with him for every song. He was weirdly good at it, too. 

“It’s all in the hips, babe,” he said.

It definitely was.

Your favorite part, though, is the last dance. 

It’s a slow song, and the only people left were couples. The bride and groom had left, sneaked out a back door because she hated send-offs, so everything was winding down. 

Jamie has your hands in his, and brings them to loop around his neck.

“You alright?” he whispers. You nod. “Good,” he says, voice still low. “Wanted to make sure you had a good time. I fucking love weddings. The dancing, the food… you.” He grins and you smile back. “You look fucking gorgeous, by the way. Not sure I mentioned it earlier.”

You’re blushing now, swaying to the music as his hands circle your waist.

You say, “Thanks for coming with me, Jaim. I don’t think I would’ve had as much fun without you.”

Your hands are on the sides of his face now, thumbs tracing his cheekbones.

You lean up to kiss him and right before you do he whispers, “Gonna be us someday, yeah?”

You forget how to breathe for a moment, opting to nod instead.

Jamie smiles, and leans down to finish what you started. 

[tacosaysroar]

Last Sunday, NFA and I returned to the hotel after spending most of the day at the beach to find the place deserted. We speculated from the pool where the six French men staying there with us might be, and then they showed up on the terrace with champagne and songs. We’d forgotten it was Bastille Day. When they started interspersing their French with “woah” and “woooow” we climbed out of the pool to watch a pretty impressive firework display below us. Probably the first time I’ve ever looked down to watch fireworks.

The next morning, all of the other couples left and we really did have the place to ourselves. We went to a wonderful Moroccan restaurant and spent probably two hours eating and drinking and gabbing with the server about the music. (What you’re imagining but make it into house music.)

We’d made a thing of ending our evenings in the pool and hot tub before bed, and that final night we were in the water when the sky opened up and poured warm rain onto us. It was so romantic it was almost ludicrous. If you saw it in a romcom you’d roll your eyes. That’s how perfect it was.

Our first day back, we drove a little less than an hour from where NFA lives to again spend the day at the beach. The older woman at the checkpoint offered us her citronella spray when she found out we didn’t have any (biting fly season) and I thought about that quote I see here sometimes about how Northerners (which I am, despite where I currently live) sometimes aren’t nice but they’re kind. We had a little lunch, I spent some time in the freeeeeezing cold water (NFA said absolutely not) and then we both relaxed in the tent he bought to shield my skin-cancer-prone body from the sun. At one point, I heard light snoring and looked over to see NFA had fallen asleep with his book open on his chest.

I meet his children tomorrow for lunch, which I haven’t quite internalized yet. Which is probably good. No need to make myself nervous. Or to develop expectations. These are teenagers. They will take me in and likely give little back — keep their impressions close to the vest, as teenagers do. This is just the first of what will likely be many lunches.

[seonghwaddict]

EYES DON'T LIE — ii. room 323.

synopsis. you've always resented jeong yunho, and you were positive that the end of high school would've marked the end of your rivalry and hatred. yet now you find yourself in the same crappy hotel as him. assigned to be right next to each other much like the good old times. pairing. jeong yunho x fem! reader. genre. mini-series, fluff, slice of life, mature, academic rivals to lovers, non-idol au. chapter warnings. mentions of infidelity, heartbreak, angst, swearing. word count. 1k

chapter i. chapter ii. chapter iii.

after high school, you never once thought about yunho.

that was a lie.

you did for the first few weeks into college but soon enough, you outgrew the childish tendencies and pettiness of teenagers and focused on your own life. you went to a top college and graduated at the top of your year you didn’t have to share the number one spot this time. somewhere in the four years of college, you met min daehyun.

on the surface he seemed like a very average person. but as you got to know him and learned about the inner workings of his personality, you found yourself getting more and more interested in him. and it seemed that he felt the same way because only a few months after you had met, he asked you out.

after graduating, the two of you stuck together and even moved into an apartment together in busan. and then, when both of you found good, stable jobs, he popped the question. he proposed to you under the starry night as the two of you lounged on a picnic blanket on the sandy beach of busan. and you said yes.

because you love him.

you love loved him.

loved.

weeks ago, your fiancé left for a three-week-long business trip in seoul. he’d been working awfully hard for the past months and neither of you had much time to yourself. so you took the opportunity to surprise him.

in the final week that he’d be gone, you booked two tickets to fly to jeju island from seoul, a weekend-long romantic getaway. just the two of you. once the tickets were booked, you packed your stuff and hopped on the next train, excited as you imagined the surprise on his face when you sauntered into his hotel room with your surprise.

and surprised he was.

so much so that his dick immediately slipped out of the woman he had in his bed. of course, as any fiancé does when caught red handed in the act of cheating, he rushed over to you, pulling on his clothes and spewing excuses faster than he could shatter your heart.

“it’s not what it looks like, i swear!” he cried as if you hadn’t just seen him balls deep in a random woman—who was currently glaring at him, though much less intently as you. once your mind caught up to what was happening and processed the utter betrayal, you slapped him across the face and stormed out, riding the painfully slow elevator back down. when you saw the woman in the lobby later, she made sure to apologise profusely and swore on her mother’s life that he said he was single.

you stayed just long enough to assure her that you didn’t blame her at all you weren’t sure if she could understand you through your sobbing and promptly left the hotel. unsure of where to go, unfamiliar with the big city. without many options, you stayed at the nearest hotel you set your eyes on. completely unaware of what you’d find.

it wasn’t anything fancy. quite the opposite, really. the paint on the walls looked like it was chipping off, and the floor creaked with every step you took to get to the front desk. the place smelled odd, though you couldn’t quite name the scent. looking around, you spot some worn down couches next to the elevator on the left, you supposed they were for guests who had to wait for a long time to get to check in or out, and a bar a little ways to the right. it didn’t seem occupied at all, the only people in sight being the bartender and two older men conversing over drinks by the window.

the man at the front desk was nice enough. he asked about the basics—how long were you staying (undecided), how many people (t- one), cash or card (card), become a member to get bar discounts (no, thank- actually, y-yeah, yes please). he made quick work of typing you into the system and arranging a room for you, handing you your room key as his furrowed eyes looked you over. you thanked him quietly and made your way to the elevator.

it took a couple minutes for the elevator to arrive, but you didn’t expect quick service in a place like this. after hitting the button to the third floor a dozen times and standing in silence for another couple minutes, the metal doors finally slid open to the floor you were meant to stay on.

slowly you passed by the doors, rubbing your eyes and squinting when your vision wouldn’t focus through the tears. 318, 319, 320, 321 and then finally your room, 322. it was the second to last door at the very end of the long and narrow hallway, beyond the next room was a window that led to the fire escape, cracked up just a bit to provide ventilation.

it took you several tries to get the key into the key hole, a fact that had you so frustrated you nearly gave up and threw the key out the window, but you succeeded eventually. as you pushed your door open, the door of the neighbouring room opened and your temporary neighbour stepped out.

after a second of consideration, you decided it would only be polite to greet the person, especially since you were standing right next to each other anyway. so you looked up, planning to bid him a good night before disappearing into your room. but as you opened your mouth to speak and he looked up, your breath caught in your throat as you and the stranger the man stared at each other.

because it was none other than jeong fucking yunho standing right outside room 323.

[ lilo's notes . . . ] oh me oh my!! who would've thought they'd end up in the same hotel, right next to each other?! *gasp* this is what i meant with i'm sorry for what i was about to do to yn </3

[ networks . . . ] @cromernet @blankjournal [ taglist . . . ] @diorwoo @yuyusuyu @loveyluv7 @ad0rechuu @h-nji @nakiiko @lelaleleb @moon-gyus @baribaaari [ permanent taglist . . . ] @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb if your username is written in bold, that means there is some sort of setting that doesn't allow me to tag you!!

[tuliptired]

could you possibly write an Egon Spengler / female reader love triangle fic! With a lot of jealousy on Econ’s part? I love your Egon fics!

I Wish That I Had Jessie's Girl

Pairing: Egon Spengler/Fem!Reader

Warnings: Minor violence and being not so nice to a lady (its not Egon dw)

its been a minute...wtf yall know about plumbing???

better formatting on Ao3!

You put the phone down dreamily, smiling to yourself as Janine clung to your shoulders, having listened intently to your call. It was Duke, a friend staying with your neighbor. You had taken to talking one morning, you let it slip about your place of employment, and soon enough the boys were ridding his boiler of a spirit. He would call you during work hours, simple things like asking if you made it in ok, if you had dinner waiting- things that didn’t warrant calling a ghost hotline, but he was so sweet that you couldn’t resist. He had the cutest accent you’d ever heard, and not to mention the pure charisma he exuded with sandy hair and tanned skin. You sighed, leaning on your hand as you remembered him saying he “just wanted to talk to the sweet girl on the other end.”

Before you could indulge in your debriefing with your friend, the garage opened, and outpoured four men in brown. It didn’t take a genius to guess what they missed, brains filling in the blanks as Janine shook you around and you both giggled like highschoolers. 

“That line is for work calls,” Peter scolded you lightly, picking up the phone and inspecting it. Janine rolled her eyes, going back to whatever was on her computer and you looked down at your paperwork, a little embarrassed.

“You don’t get it,” Janine typed fast. The men groaned, as Peter fell into Ray’s arms dramatically.

“Oh, I get it.” He did his best at mocking your voice. “Oh, Duke, run away with me into the sunset!” Ray played along, doing a worse impression of you as your face burned from the teasing. “Duke- let’s go horseback riding on the beach!” 

Winston joined in, sounding like a belle. “Run up the phone bill, Duke!” 

As you tried to speak up to put an end to the symphony of phony-you, Peter interrupted you. “Duke, I haven’t had a real date in months- of course I’ll marry- ow!” He rubbed his forehead, eyes flickering from the spot he was struck and the golf pencil clattering to the floor. Soon, the other two men were pelted as well, covering their faces as you tossed writing utensils like rice.

You placed the container down. “It’s not my fault if he’s a romantic,” you defended yourself, straightening your clothes. Ray and Winston raised unbelieving eyebrows at you, bending over to pick up the mess. 

Ray stood with a small handful, unbending at the waist. “Just don’t know why you’re so obsessed with him, that’s all.” He had the cadence of a worried older brother, which made you uncross your arms. 

Janine leaned in to you. “Knows guitar. Beautiful brown eyes. A little dumb.”

You nodded. “A cute smile.” 

“So tall!”

“Deep voice.”

“Southern voice!” 

Ray looked offended then, placing a hand on his heart. “I’m southern! What makes him so special?”

Janine pushed her glasses up with her ring finger, crystal chain swinging as she did. “Kansas doesn’t count.”

“Well, excuse me if I’m not as good as Mr. Baywatch,” he stood with his hands on his hips.

Winston looked at something over your shoulder. “What do you think, Egon?” That’s what you were forgetting- you mentally cursed yourself for foregoing the quiet man as he started up the stairs. He paused, looking over the banister. 

He was silent, mouth opening but words hesitant. “I wouldn’t be tripping over myself for a plumber.” The rest of the men erupted in laughter, Janine telling them off, swatting at them as she said that they were just old and bitter. Your head fell into your hands, mind spiraling with ways you’ll get them to let it go.

You sat behind your desk, sipping on the coffee Egon had brought you. Just the right kind from just the right shop- in exchange for your help in the lab. The liquid warmed your insides as he watched you, waiting for a verdict. 

You put the paper cup down. “It’s the right kind,” you admitted. He didn’t budge. “ Thank you , Egon.” He was satiated, as the door opened and you turned your attention away. It was Duke, the sudden appearance making you jump, quick to fix your hair and tug on the hem of your shirt. He was all smiles, sauntering up to you with a few things in hand. Egon looked unamused, making a small amount of space for the man.

“You have another ghost?” You beamed up and him, nervous in the air of the spontaneous visit.

He laughed, voice rich like honey. “Hey, sweet girl- I can’t see you?” You shook your head light heartedly, subconsciously leaning forward in your seat. He held up what was in his arms. “Brought you something.” a little coffee cup with a yellow sleeve, and a thin batch of flowers. “You didn’t already have, right?” He hesitated before he put the cup onto the wood. Your eyes widened a bit, as he hadn’t noticed the forgotten favor from Egon that you quickly placed in a short, open drawer space underneath the actual table top. You felt bad, doing it in front of your friend, but he’d just have to understand, right? 

“Not at all,” you assured him. “Thank you, so much. You didn’t have to.” You brought the drink to your lips, taken aback by the taste. This was the kind you hated. From the place you made a point not to visit. You smiled weakly, taking the flowers in your hands. Pre-cut flowers, destined to die in a week.

He grinned back at you, before something flashed behind his eyes. “Before I forget- the bathroom pipes in your walls? The ones running through your bedroom? They’re sounding a little shaky, you might wanna get them looked at.” He leaned a hand against your desk, the other in his back pocket.

You heard a small snort that didn’t come from either you or the man trying to court you. You nodded, once. “Thanks. If my apartment floods with toilet water I’ll know who to call.” Duke looked around at your workplace, either impressed or concerned as he craned his neck towards the ceiling.

He let out a low whistle. “This place has to be at least half a century old.”

“Octogenarian.” Egon spoke up, evading your gaze as he stared down the other male. 

“No kidding,” Duke stilled, before looking around again. You cleared your throat, placing a hand over his.

“Thank you, again. I don’t know anyone who’d go out of their way like this for me.” You locked eyes for a minute, just smiling at each other before Egon interrupted, again.

He started toward the lab. “The samples are ready.” You sighed out your nose, remembering how these were the ones you were particularly excited to look at under the microscope. 

You patted his hand apologetically, before getting up as Egon disappeared into the firehouse. “Duty calls. I’ll see you later?” Duke looked a little disappointed, but he agreed nonetheless.

“Later,” he gave your hand a squeeze as he strolled towards the exit. 

Egon had a few slides set up, as well as seedlings and sprouted plants off to the side when you arrived. You sat in your designated wheely, short-backed chair, silent and a hefty amount of awkward as he messed with something behind you.

“He got the wrong coffee.”

“I know.”

“And you hate store bought flowers. He tried to charm you by offering to fix your pipes.”

“I know. ” You swiveled around to face him, self-conscious as you remembered the fact that Egon was standing there for the entire ordeal.

You closed your eyes as you put your hands out. “Look. Everybody makes mistakes. So what if I’ve mentioned it to him a few times.” Egon ceased what he was doing and gave you a single look as you slumped back in defeat. “Just drop it.”

“I didn’t say anything,” he turned the microscope’s light on, “now, these are samples of Platanthera ciliaris grown with ectoplasm, rather than cut prematurely with store bought fertilizers-” You cut him off with a light punch to the arm. He slid the scope in front of you. As you put your eye to the lens, your mind blanked upon looking down at blurry shapes and colors. This part always got you. 

“How do you…” You gestured to the knobs on either side without raising your head. He was quiet before placing light fingers on your right hand, guiding the knob forward, your skin prickling at the touch. Nothing changed as he retracted his hands.

“It’s still not…” You were about to sit back, to let him try it himself, when there was something in your way as wheels screeched across hard floors. A warm body, a respectable distance behind   your own, and warm hands encompassing yours. He silently guided the knob again, back and forth until the slide was clear.

You hoped he couldn’t feel your heart through your clothes as you swallowed. “That’s- good. I can see.” Your breath was taken away at the sight underneath you, yellow and orange and green cells as far as the slide went. Little square boxes, reminiscent of sliced citrus fruit sitting in the long tendrils of the plant. With the ectoplasm, their cell walls grew thick, and seemed to breathe, coiling and writhing. Before Egon could back away, you voiced your awe.

“It’s beautiful,” you said honestly. He stayed where he was.

A beat or two of silence, but he spoke eventually. “I know. It did wonders for their growth. It makes me think, what could this mean for human development?”

You watched on as the cells seemed to twitch, reminiscent of an animal stretching itself. “Living, retentive material on a living, thinking human being? Is that ethical?”

He didn’t say anything as he raised the brightness for you. “I’m unsure.”

You could see even better now, the remaining bits of dirt clear on the root of the flower. “Venkman could help.”

“Perhaps he could.” 

It was comforting, the way he was close to you. Undoubtedly, he was in a bit of an awkward position- his lower body was rolled away from the small of your back. But it was almost funny the way he nearly let all of his weight rest on you, while barely touching you at all. The scientist didn’t go out of his way to touch people, and when he did it was stiff and rigid. But he was languid now, deep breaths in tandem with yours as you reveled in the quiet. He started going out of his way for you very far into your employment, and your coworkers swiftly teased you both for it in the privacy of a room the other wasn’t occupying. He let you have the good chair, he brought you the good coffee. He let you watch on and talk endlessly while he worked, something that the other men didn’t have the privilege of. He listened to you divulge him in a topic he never previously cared for, as you ate all of his food. So to be touched, as brazenly as this, was simultaneously surprising and expected. He was your friend. But he was Egon, so his pelvis would stay out of contact with your body as he leaned forward onto you.

But the presence was lost, as the scrape of wheels against the ground made you raise your head, a bit disappointed. He had a little slide in hand, with another flower. It was your favorite, marked “ectoplasmic”, incased in clear material. He had the ghost of a guilty smile as you took it from him, marveling at the new color created. 

You managed to glow so hard you nearly felt your cheeks ache. “You’re spoiling me.”

Janine was bored, taken to filing your nails to match her own in the middle of the slow day. The compact radio on your side of the desk went on, playing your station of preference as you let her work on you. She stops filing, blowing the dust off the edge.

She eyes you for a moment, before going back to your hands. You narrow your eyes as she keeps her head down. “What? What was that for?”

“Your aura is all outta whack.”

You frown. “Well then, I apologize for my ‘aura’.” Janine wasn’t pleased, cocking one eyebrow as she dragged the file back and forth. 

She sits up a little straighter, bringing your hand up to her eye. “This is bad. I’ve only seen something like this in my sister.”

You sneak a look down at your nails. “Your boy-crazy sister?”

“I’m telling you- this is bad.” Janine drops the file, holding your hand. “And I can tell what’s happening.” She takes a pause, as if her next words will hurt coming out. “You’re in love.”

“Alright, you got me,” you pull your hands back, surrendering sarcastically. The little woman grabs them again, insistent.

“So you’re not in love with Duke?”

“I mean-”

“So you’re stuck between two lovers?” 

Taking your hands back again, you roll away from her, eyes widening and voice reaching a ditzy pitch. “I am not in love with Egon!”

She has an expression reminiscent of a psychiatrist as the light catches in her glasses. “Honey. I never mentioned Egon.”

You freeze. Without thinking, you rise from your chair, only to be pulled back down. “You’re just confusing me,” you protest.

She cages you into the receptionist booth. “The only thing confused is your heart. You’re stuck between two guys and now you have to choose one.” You scoff, crossing your arms. She keeps on, voice lowering a bit as if she remembers the men upstairs.

“I see it, we all see it. Except the two eggheads,” she flicks you between the eyebrows with manicured nails. “Friends and coworkers don’t do what you do.”

The spot on your face stung. “I’m telling you, he’s just my friend,” you almost pleaded.

Janine’s eyes nearly rolled off her face. “Of course. He lets you bother him all day because you’re friends? He’d lay himself out on the ground for you to walk on if you asked. You just don’t think he would because you’re too scared to lose him if you make assumptions.” She presses a finger to your chest. “But you should’ve seen the two of you the other day.”

Your blood runs just short of icy. “You were there?”

“Egon does not touch people. And there you were, this 6ft scientist hanging off of your back like a koala.” She smirks to herself as she lets up, rolling back to her spot and starting to work on her own nails as you sit there, stunned. “You like the big-weird-doctor,” her voice teases you.

There’s nothing for you to do but roll back to your own spot, silent as she keeps going. “And you’re not gonna say anything to Duke?” His name snaps you back to reality as you turn your head to face her.

“I don’t…” You try to argue your case, barren as it may seem, but it served no purpose when nothing came to mind.

“So you’ll say something to Egon?” Her face brightens with hope.

“I…” Nothing, again, as you search the floor for some sort of answer.

“So you won’t say anything to anyone and you’ll die an old hag?” She whines, setting the file down against the wood, eyebrows furrowed as you throw your head back, squinting at the ceiling.

Your brain was scrambled, not knowing whether it was on the offensive or the defensive. You make a resolve without thinking, tone self-assured. Or, in denial. “I don’t think you know what you’re talking about. And I’ll…be with Duke because he actually likes me.” She starts to speak, but her words are cut off by a low, shaky rumbling reverberating throughout the firehouse. Both pairs of eyes instinctively flit downward, until a creaky note followed by a loud spraying noise and a curse resound from above you. 

The voice of the man in question cuts through the very loud chaos happening in your walls, calling down the hall. “The lab sink! It’s flooding!” The sounds of running water and creaky metal fill the space. Amidst the noise, you can hear Ray announce that “he’s got it!” as he makes it to the lab along with two other sets of feet, and you rush to the staircase.

“No, you don’t! You’re an engineer, not a pipefitter!” You leant on the railing, waiting for a response. You got one, as the madness quieted for a second, Janine coming out from under the desk. In an instant, it erupted again, even worse as you and Janine’s hands went flying towards your ears. There was a hellish cacophony of metal, gushing water, and creaking inside and outside the wallpaper, comparable to construction. You stumbled back to the desk, fingers pressed into your hair.

“Who do we get? What number do we call?” Janine hands you the phone, yelling over the endless pandemonium.

You have to yell back. “No one, after the work Ray did- no commercial plumber would come within 50 feet of our driveway if he wanted to keep his license.”

She shakes the phone at you, exasperated. “Well, what do we do? This place is falling apart!” You’re forced to take it then, holding back a sigh as you bite your cheek and punch in the only number you knew to contact.

Duke was underneath the sink unit, working hard as he lay on the towel you gave him to stay out of the inch of water that accumulated onto the floor. “It’s a good thing you called me when you did,” he marveled as he reached for a tool in the worn satchel you held like the daintiest picnic basket.

“I can’t tell you how glad I am that I did.” He sends you a smile from the ground, and you return it, until you hear the slosh of something dragging against water. Duke looks to the side, and you do the same as you look up, expression flat. Egon was in his chair, working at his workbench like there wasn’t centimeters of stagnant water at his ankles. You knew he was freaked out of his mind, he was just being difficult.

“Egon,” you inquired sweetly.

“Hm?” He was playing innocent.

Your voice retained the same sweet cadence. “Why are you here?”

Egon gazed at both of you incredulously, like he had no idea what he was doing wrong. “It’s my own laboratory, I think I reserve the right to be here.”

Your jaw clenched. “Of course. Hey, Duke, tell me again about your football team,” you hid the venom in your voice as your stare didn’t leave Egon’s sitting figure.

Duke shined when he recalled his years in high school sports. “Oh man, you have no idea. I was the best running back in Valentine. I was riding high, ‘till I tore my ACL. Could’ve gone pro.”

Egon spoke as you were about to praise the former athlete. “Interesting you mention football injuries. Many players can develop CTEs and never notice.” Duke blinked, nodding slowly.

“My head’s okay. I think.” 

“I’m sure. Poor impulse control, rage issues, and eventual dementia but- there’s no way we’ll know until you’re dead.” He shrugged, smile lopsided.

“And what a cute cadaver you’ll be, with cute Duke Juniors at your side after they do the autopsy,” you bent slightly, voice saccharine and expression strained as you got Duke’s attention again. It felt mean to think this, but he was a little easy to please.

“It might not be the CTE that gets him, after all. In fact, plumbers are easily at risk for infectious diseases. Hepatitis, staphylococcus. On account of the fecal matter and septic water.”

Before you could distract him, Duke looked offended, brows knitting together. 

“Nerds like you don’t get sick? With your samples and your tests?” He glanced at Egon sideways.

Egon simply shook his head. “No. Because I’ve never swam through human shit for a paycheck.”

Duke almost got up from his spot underneath the sink, sitting up on his forearm and pointing a tool towards the seated man. “I didn’t go to some big school for years just so I could be called doctor like you did. You don’t even patch anyone up,” he retorted harshly. Egon, the man who avoided confrontation, seemed smug and amused by the insult, ready to spit back himself.

You squatted to be level with him, internally thankful that your legs were strong enough to prevent you from falling backwards into standing water. “I’ve never told you how cool I think it is that your truck is so tall. I didn’t even know they made them that big.” God, you sounded like a cheerleader as you rested a hand on his chest, but it worked.

He was content with that as he wiped his hands off on a rag. “Y’know, sweet girl, I’ve been meaning to ask. Tomorrow’s Friday, wanna come out to the bar on 5th and Franklin? I’ll show you a good time.” He spoke low, eyes lower. Egon didn’t give you time to respond, as he was fully turned towards the both of you, face more than annoyed.

“She hates that club. And she told you that, because it has to do with why she doesn’t have her license, and she tells that story to everyone. Were you the exception, or did you just not care enough to remember? Because she won’t jump into bed with you on the spot?” For the second time that day, your blood turned to icy as you stood up fast, water splashing onto Duke’s shirt underneath you going unnoticed to everyone in the room but him as he grabbed the hem. 

You could barely control the anger in your voice as it rose in volume. “Egon,” was all you had to say, firm and frustrated as you stood with hands on your hips. He looked like a scolded child, wordlessly wading through the flood and following you outside.

You stood standing across from each other, Egon very interested in your shoes. “What the hell is wrong with you?” You questioned him, infuriated as you pinched each of his ears, pulling him down as he winced in pain. 

When you let go, he weakly soothed his red cartilage. “You don’t understand,” he muttered, immediately regretting his choice of words as your eyes lit aflame.

“What don’t I understand? That you didn’t mean to be a jerk to the guy trying to ask me out?” Egon took your reproach, until he couldn’t anymore.

“He doesn’t really like you,”’ he said reluctantly. 

“How would you know?” You crossed your arms and narrowed your eyes. Was this why he was being so petty?

Egon sighed, before looking frustrating and starting off on a tangent. “He got you the wrong coffee, the kind that gives you a stomachache. And he got you store bought flowers that died within a week. Anyone who’s ever known you will know to get you a potted plant so you can keep it alive yourself. Not to mention that you’d have more stimulating conversation with a mailbox than him.” Egon looked choleric and uncomfortable as he tried to reason with you, voice raising slightly.

You took a step towards him, lowering your voice as you weren’t all that far from the lab- only down the hall. “At least he’s trying! In all the time you’ve known me, how many people did you know to actually try?” It sounded pathetic out loud, but it was true, right? For as long as you could remember, you knew that you’d eventually have no more room to nitpick. He had a brief, hurt expression, eyebrows flying together and mouth open slightly. He looked away once, before nearly begging you.

“He’s only trying because he thinks you’re a challenge!” He put both hands on your shoulders in a moment of desperation. “I’ve lived among men all my life. Even the most mild mannered guy has only one thing in mind, taking you to a club like that. He lets you talk and talk because you won’t think twice when-”

You pushed yourself away, a cynical smile as your face burned inside. “Oh, I’m sure Janine would be surprised to hear that coming from you.” You stepped toward the door, ready to open it and accept his invitation. Egon took a step towards you, as if you were an animal.

“What? I’m trying to tell you, he is an insincere neanderthal of a man, and he’ll do nothing but treat you like dirt.” You were ready to snap then. This was all too much for you, abstract emotions having nothing to do but manifest as frustration. Janine’s words mixed with Egon’s, resounding as negative affirmations through every corner of your head. 

This was all so confusing, and now here he was, telling you that the love you were receiving for so long was superficial. Wasn’t he supposed to be your friend? That hurt most of all, memories of the handful of times you were alone at night, spilling your thoughts out. You were tired, and he did more listening than talking, but you can remember him reassuring you that “ someone will love you. He’ll stop being scared and he’ll tell you with a beautiful flower in hand.” Who cares how you felt about Duke? The love he promised is here, and now it’s up to Egon to tell you it’s not true? You could barely feel tears in the corner of your eyes, disdain making them dry.

Taking a slow, yet shallow breath, you grabbed the door again, turning your back to him. “And you’re being an ass. As far as I’m concerned, you’re not at liberty to tell me who I should and shouldn’t be with.” You couldn’t bring yourself to look back at him, but if you did you’d see the visual representation of someone’s heart breaking into splinters. “I’m gonna go out with him and have fun. And drink.” With that, you were back in the lab, a little shaken as you put on a faulty smile, cheerily saying yes to his invite.

The next day came, and Peter let you go early since they’d finished all their scheduled jobs and Janine was still around. As you thanked him for excusing you, Egon stood wordlessly at the workbench.

You got nice and dressed up, perhaps a little better than you would otherwise. But this was for you, and partly to prove a point. Duke let you know how nice you looked during the ride from your place to the bar, granted he spent the rest of the drive going on about the truck itself. You seldom paid attention, mind so focused on enjoying yourself that you forgot to be in the moment.

At the door, you had to use a different form of identification to get in on account of this same club’s (teenaged?) bartender swiping your license to use for herself. Duke made some wayward comment on you proving that you were of age in some clandestine way, and you just sighed out your nose, handing the unamused bouncer your ID. 

The inside was hot, and loud. You couldn’t walk too far without bumping into someone. You only frequented places like this with friends, so a date was new territory as he sat down at the bar without looking back. He ordered a large beer, for himself, and insisted that you order another drink after you had nursed yours. You declined, you needed to remember tonight, and he seemed almost annoyed at that. The air was a little tense- it was hard to have a good time when only one person’s throwing back. It was only getting better when you did the cheerleader thing again, letting him pick you up with one arm and impress you with another round of shots. You suggested he slow down, and again denied another drink, and he seemed irritated again. You felt a little despondent yourself as he wouldn’t talk, before something across the bustling room got his attention and he halfheartedly excused himself. 

It didn’t take long before you found him in the corner of a bar, trying to impress much younger, much drunker girls. Drunken asshole. You dragged him back by the wrist, talking sweetly to him as you promised him a dance earlier in the night. He got excited, beating you at getting to the floor. As your sultry air fell, you caught a glimpse of bright colors in one of the booths, pointing in your direction. God damn it.

“What are you doing here?” You leaned against their table exasperated as 3 out of 4 of them beamed at you. Winston, Peter, and Ray each had the same dress shirt, buttons undone and sleeves rolled up to different degrees; in purple, red, and green respectively. Egon opted for a dress shirt he had at home, a simple light blue under a sweater vest and tie. He looked nothing sort of tense in the crowded environment, even more so now that you were in front of them. You scrunch your nose in sight of their outfits. “Did your tour bus break down?”

Winston put down his glass. “How’s your date going?” You closed your eyes and raised your eyebrows.

Peter looks over your shoulder at Duke making his way through the crowd. “He looks juiced.”

“It’s fine. Why are you here?” Ray smiled, putting a hand on Egon’s shoulder. 

“Can you believe this was Egon’s idea? Here, no less?” The man looked into your eyes sheepishly as you glared down at him. 

“Oh, I can believe it. Well, I hope you and Rosenberg enjoy your night.” You gave Egon a mocking grin, before departing to find Duke. You did, and he was, again, with another girl. You got his attention, and he was excited to dance- just extremely handsy. So much so that you had to hold his wrists to keep his hands on your waist, rather than your front or rear. 

Eventually, he spoke low and into your ear, but it wasn’t the titillating, sensual way that one would towards someone they were trying to romance. It made the hair on your neck stand for the wrong reasons as it registered as sleazy, predatory. Drunken words:sober thoughts, Janine’s voice sounded in your mind. 

“C’mon, let’s go to my place,” Duke finally ended his slurry of obscene suggestions as his hands tried at grabbing your wrist, motioning to lead you out to the apartment he didn’t even own. You resisted, heartbeat racing as you tried to politely let him know you were fine here. His half lidded eyes became aggravated as he tried again to drag you out, this time with a tighter grip and a stronger force. You couldn’t stop his strength as he started to pull you away from the safety of a crowd and towards the dimly lit exit, fingers digging at his in a desperate attempt to free yourself from the grips of this man with a getaway car and a plan. 

You were able to escape his tight hold, and he spun around, irate. “I went through all this trouble to listen to you bitch and moan about stupid shit, and you won’t even sleep with me?” As you stood there, dismayed, he managed to spit out a disgusting, derogatory insult at you, looking down at you in the flashing lights of the club. Drunken bastard. 

You were appalled, and before the record could change, you brought your hand up and to the side of his face, hard. He was stunned by the slap, cheek red as he looked back at you in disbelief. Your fear turned into great offense and disgust at the sight of the man in front of you. In an attempt to regain his pride he took a step forward, enraged and embarrassed. As he got almost chest to chest with you, he reached for your neck. 

Before he could choke you out, there was a hand on his shoulder. Almost as quickly as he looked over his shoulder, there was a fist connected to his other cheek, and you could swear a tooth or two came flying out. 

It all happened so quickly that you could’ve blinked and gotten to where you were, talking to a police officer outside as Duke and Egon were seated on the curb, handcuffed. The officer nodded as you gave your statement, and let Egon, who was sitting calmly, off with a warning as he wasn’t intoxicated and acted in your defense, while Duke hurled expletives and beer from his spot against the road. The car sped off with him in the backseat, and you tiredly sat down next to the tall man, stretching his wrists out from the handcuffs.

“Hey.”

Egon’s face was illuminated by the fluorescent lights of a 24 hour grocery behind him in the entertainment filled street. His brown eyes were soft and slightly rounded, albeit worn. “Hi.” He looked at you expectantly with a trace of worry as you scanned him. He looked beautiful at night. “Are you okay?” He bashfully held both of your hands in his.

You nodded. He didn’t seem to believe you, examining any part of your body that was exposed. You pinch his ears again, pulling him down. “Thanks for spying on me,” you let him go, “But. Thank you for being there, really. I’m sorry I didn’t listen when you were warning me.” He looked guilty as he rubbed the tops of his ears.

“I should be apologizing. It’s not my place to police what you do. I’m sorry I acted childish.” You let out a small huff, leaning your head on his shoulder. He was a warm refuge in the cooling air of the night.

“But, you wouldn’t have had to if I just rejected him.” 

He hummed. “True,” he agreed without thinking. He realized what he said as you let out a short laugh. “Objectively, it is true. But you shouldn’t blame yourself for him being disgusting. This could’ve been avoided if I had just gained the courage to tell you.” You sighed, before freezing.

“Tell me?”

It was his turn to freeze, eyes on the ground as he sat still. You shook his shoulder a bit, trying to convince him to let you in.

“Tell me what? C’mon, no more secrecy from now on.” He pursed his lips, sitting like a deer in headlights. He swallowed, battling something in his head before he rose silently, stopping in front of the tiny grocery store. You watched on as he robotically made it past cut and wrapped bouquets, artificial and destined to wilt soon. He stopped in front of a little potted thing, tiny compared to the others on sale but precious and hardy in its own right as its blossoms were finished blooming.

Egon took a breath in, and you stood to be with him. “I promised you. That the love of your life will be there with a flower in hand.” He looked between you in the pot. “If you’ll have me?”

The sounds and colors of the club melted away, painting you both in light like oil portraits. How blind you were. He looked grecian, his nervous face bathed in blue.

 “Of course. Even if you had to act like a caveman for me to realize."

[neoballsucker]

DIVE INTO YOU

Summary : you and your co-workers/ friends decided to go on a trip for a vacation from work what else could happen?

Genre : friends/ coworkers to lovers

Pairs : doyoung X fem!reader X Johnny

Waring : Smut , fluff at the end , threesome , Double Penetration , if there any else pls lemme know 😭🙏

WC : 1.8k

A/N : it's kinda quick cuz I wrote that when I was half asleep I'm sorry 😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️

You always dreamed of a man to fit the standards your standards tall handsome face muscular body a sweet smile smooth voice talented can cook can take care of you and understand you and show you love as much as you do you tried dating multiple times it never worked out you really thought you were the problem you never lasted with any of them while they find the love of their life getting married and even having kids you didn't really care children and marriage weren't really your thing being the hopeless romantic you are , you went to the bar after work , you worked in a really big company and you were getting paid really well , you never complained about anything in your life

I'm the bar you sometimes go with your workmates but most of the times you go alone, the job was alot so you go to get drunk and maybe get laid if you're lucky enough

“The usual or something new this time?” The bartender asked you

“Nah get me the usual or do you have anything special ?” you asks and rolls her eyes

“Then the usual” he chuckles and disappears

You look around the bar you notice some familiar faces but you weren't really interested in any of them until your eyes were fixed on doyoung and Johnny

They were from the office you worked at they were everyone's crush , when someone try and flirt with any of them they just smile and nod simply, some people thought they had girlfriends some thought they were gay and dating cause they always stick to eachother and hang out together

You were kinda interested in them they were handsome and so gentle and kind with everyone but you didn't really wanna date someone from work

“Here's your drink miss” he taps your shoulder

“ah thank you” you take the drink from his hand as you turn your back you find a muscular body Infront of you…well two of them actually

“Oh hey y/n right?” It was a familiar voice you looked up to see the two beautiful men from your office the voice was coming from doyoung

“Ahh yes you're right that's me” you smile and nod slightly

“You look stunning by the way” the other older man says with a sweet smile

“Oh well thank you you look great as well” you smile back at him

“Oh let's go take a seat” doyoung noted and both you and Johnny nod in agreement all three of you walk over to the nearest table

The three of you talked and got to know eachother more it was really nice talking to them they were nice and had a really stable life both of them were gentle with you had a really sweet smile the night ended with all three of you drunk everyone barely could walk on their feet

The next day when you woke up you found both of them checking if you went home safely it was really sweet of them

Days after days weeks after weeks you developed a really good friendship

Months passed and you decided to go on a vacation it was nice to go on a beach trip after working most of the year right?

After a long trip everybody goes to their room and rest til the next morning

“Good morning y/n !!” A text from doyoung was sent

“ahh good morning doyoung did you sleep well?”

“Oh yes I did wanna head to the beach?”

“Oh yeah sure just wait until I get ready”

“Yeah alright then see you soon”

You smile at his text and go to change and get ready you wore your 2 piece swimsuit and did your hair and wore some sunscreen after that you got out of your room heading to the hotel's gate and met doyoung and Johnny there

“Good morning princess did you sleep well?” Johnny asked while smiling

“Oh yes I did , did you sleep well ?” You smile back at him

“Of course I did” he chuckles softly as you roll your eyes

As both men sit in the front seats you sit in the backseat

“i had to reserve the beach” doyoung says

“What ? Why did you do that there's literally nothing special about it” you ask confusedly

“Well that beach is really famous and it has alot good services so it was worth it y/n” doyoung says trying to convince you

“Yeah we will also stay the whole day there they has some house Infront of the beach so don't worry about it so much” Johnny added to the younger man's words

“Oh well…at that point it's fine I guess “ you can hear them both chuckles after about 30 minutes you finally arrived to your destination

“C'mon y/m we arrived” doyoung says

Johnny was more flirty than doyoung he always flirted with you it's not like you're the only one he always flirted with people it was something he does while doyoung was more serious while talking he didn't like being really flirty or anything but never complained about any of them it's their nature

You got out of the car grabbing your bag and tried helping them taking out the things they got but they refused

“Let me guess you didn't grab any clothes to stay here did you?” Doyoung asks you and chuckles

“And how was I supposed to know we're staying here? Nobody told me”

“Well luckily I got extra pajama in case something happened or whatever”

“Aww thank you doyoung “ you hugged him for few seconds and pulled out

“Anyways love birds are you ready to have fun?” Johnny says and rolls his eyes

“Oh stop Johnny you're not funny anyways let's go” doyoung chuckles and grabs few things like towels sunscreen sunglasses etc

You all headed to the beach it was fun Johnny tried showing off his skills but failed trying some tricks you saw on the internet it was fun you laughed talked time passed really quickly everyone got out showered and slept for about an hour

“Wake up sleepy head” you feel doyoung shake you off

“I'm awake doyoung” you said In a sleepy tone

“I can see that” he tsks as you feel his face closer to you

You tried to keep distance

“Are you trying to kiss me or what?” You ask jokingly

“Oh is it that obvious?” He chuckles and got closer to you, it was kinda surprising to you cause doyoung wasn't the type to flirt at all you panicked as he got closer to you

You felt his lips on yours you didn't know what to do that moment but you gave in and kissed him back you can feel his hands around your waist pulling your body closer against him as you wrap your hands around his neck the kiss last for few moments until you hear someone clearing his throat both of you and doyoung pulled out and looked at johnny awkwardly

“uhh well…Johnny it's not like th-”

“Wanna join us?” Doyoung cuts you off

“Oh well hell yeah dude you know I'm in” Johnny sits next you and now you're stuck between both of them like a sandwich

As you feel Johnny leans in and kisses your lips you didn't resist it this time you actually returned the kiss immediately after few moments you feel doyoung pulling you to meet his lips he kisses your lips passionately and gently you feel Johnny taking off his shirt revealing his toned body and tattoos he then pulls you to kiss him again as doyoung takes off his shirt as well , it was like a dream of yours you didn't fantasize about them before you alway saw them as some friends from work you never expected it to end up like that

Kissing doyoung then Johnny then doyoung again it kept going like that for a while until doyoung throws you on the bed as both of them take off their pants you take off your shirt and pants as well being only left in your laced underwear and bra they both get on bed and Johnny captures your lips in a kiss while doyoung kisses your neck you moan in Johnny lips and you feel your bra being ripped off revealing your breasts Johnny let go off your mouth and puts one of your nipples in your mouth and doyoung takes the other one in his mouth you rub your thighs against eachother as you feel wet you feel hands on your thighs taking off your panties carefully both of them inserts one of their fingers inside you you moan loudly as your eyes roll back due to the pleasure

“O-oh fuck I want b-both of you of fuck” you could barely talk due to Overstimulation

“There is no condoms in here y/n” doyoung says

“It doesn't matter just…just fuck me” you

“As you wish princess” Johnny says and looks at doyoung

“C'mon doyoung stop being so boring I know you're hard too” Johnny say as you hear doyoung sighs

“Fine I swear I don't know how this will turn out” doyoung finally gives in

They both get up

“You sure you can take both of us babe?” Doyoung says as him and Johnny settled between your legs

“Yes I can just please do it” you begged them

As you feel them in you already

“Oh fuck you're so tight oh my god” Johnny says his voice was much deeper and low

Doyoung was quiet moaning his moans was like music for your ears they both try to move in sync adjusting themselves as you moan loudly hips thrusting the sound of your moans the whole thing seemed like a dream to your vision was blurry as you can barely breathe you feel your release as your eyes close tightly gripping on the sheets as you feel their seeds in you , you moan loudly and roll your eyes they both stop and throw themselves next you on both sides and the three of you just fall asleep

You wake up the next day you found yourself sleeping by yourself you just go shower and head to the kitchen you found them both there talking

“Good morning y/n” doyoung smiles

“Oh good morning doie” you smile back and hug him awkwardly he returns the hug he usually doesn't do that something was wrong but you didn't mind it

“So me and Johnny were talking..and well would you want to be my…well our girlfriend”

You look at them for a while

“Oh well yeah sure you guys are great but can you both share” you chuckles and hug doyoung even tighter Johnny joins and you three end up making love on the floor”

[thetempleofthemasaigoddess]

Let me breathe for you (part 1)

Merman!Shanks x reader. This is part one of two.

*****

Walks along the waterfront have always had the power to soothe you, distract your thoughts from any worry or reason for sadness, and put you in a better frame of mind; it is, fortunately, an activity you can indulge in every time you want, since you were born in a coastal town, and your house is just a few minutes away from a quiet, secluded beach you visit regularly. 

Today is one of those occasions. You don’t feel particularly sad or preoccupied, but you have just finished sewing a dress -an important project that had kept you busy for weeks, and that the client who had commissioned it had paid quite a sum for- and you decided that a nice walk was in order, to stretch your legs and enjoy some time outside rather than in your tiny workshop at home. 

A gentle wind plays with your hair as you fill your lungs with the salty air -a smell that you have always found comforting, for some reason you cannot explain- and walk leisurely along the shoreline, the orderly line of your footsteps on the moist sand following you. The laces of your sandals hang from your fingers; for years you had left your shoes next to a large rock, since it is more pleasant to feel the warm sand under your feet, but after a pair were stolen, no doubt by some kids who had nothing better to do than to play stupid planks, you decided it was safer to carry them with you. Today the sun is shining for the first time after a week of almost constant rain; you lift your eyes to the reassuringly cloud-free sky above your head and smile, aware that soon the coming of winter will force you to cut your walks short and for this reason determined to enjoy your outing today. 

The beach is almost a mile away from the busiest part of the town, and the roar of the waves crashing on the shore is the only sound reaching your ears; the beach is empty around you, as you imagined it would be since you have very seldom encountered other people during your walks over the years, and while you’re usually a pretty social person, and enjoy spending time with your older sister and your friends, you equally appreciate moments like this… when, excused from having to make small talk or listen to the discourses of whoever is next to you, you are free to focus on your thoughts, reflect, mentally prepare for the tasks for the day… and dream, even. Dream things you almost feel guilty for, and that you often quickly chide yourself for…

Today is one of those days. You stop in your tracks to pick up a seashell to add to your collection -it is of a pretty red colour. One day, you reflect, you should use shells as decorations for a dress, in the place of beads or frills; you could start a new trend, and gather supplies to use in your workshop during your walks- and then look in the direction the small creature that once inhabited it must have come from. The blue immensity in front of you is breath-taking as usual, even now that only gentle waves break its still surface; you are a more than able swimmer, who fortunately never risked drowning or other accidents, and you know that the sea is a source of food and livelihood for many of the town’s citizens, but no matter how much you enjoy the quiet, private hours you spend on the beach, there are moments you can’t help hating, even resenting it, like you would do with a man who had disrespected you or a friend who had broken your trust. It is absurd -the sea is after all not a person, it doesn’t have thoughts and emotions and cannot be held responsible for its actions the way all men and women of age are- and you have often reprimanded yourself for that useless bitterness, but you can’t help it. The sea has stolen someone you once loved away from you, and you’ll never forget it -or him- for that.

So many years have passed, and you still remember the pain breaking your heart as you observed his ship disappearing over the horizon, pushed along by deceptively gentle waves, as one of your hands held your sister’s and the other waved, even though you knew he couldn’t see you anymore. You don’t remember whether you hugged him before he left, kissed him, told him how much you loved and would miss him; you probably did, because you always did, every time he left, and you sincerely hope you hadn’t forgotten that time, the last you ever could…

It is a good thing the beach is empty, because you have always hated to be seen as you cry, even though it is just a few tears you can -and do- quickly dry with your fingers. You sigh, reminding yourself this walk was supposed to be a reward for your hard work, and that today is in any case too nice a day to waste it with regret and sad memories; you will find a few more shells, you decide trying to distract yourself, for your little nephews at home to play with, and as you return home you will stop at the tea room and treat yourself to a warm drink. Yes, that would be an excellent way to conclude your day…

You are already feeling a bit better as you start on the way back, when suddenly something in the distance catches your eye, something peculiar and unexpected enough it compels you to quicken your pace to reach it. At first you could think it is a piece of wood, pushed on the beach by the tide and covered by algae and other aquatic waste, or the body of an unfortunate animal, victim of an accident or the cruelty of men; but there are no bright red algae, as far as you know, and dogs and cats don’t have long, glabrous limbs, stretched forward as if in a desperate request for help…

It is a man, you realise, the scene in front of your wide open eyes unexpected but too clear to be misunderstood, a soaking wet, completely still man, lying on his belly with the lower half of his body still immersed in water, as if his strength failed before he could fully pull himself ashore. He is naked, for what you can see, probably the victim of a shipwreck, even though more than a month must have passed since the last serious storm, or another accident at sea, who has been able to reach the island’s shores swimming desperately to save himself… or perhaps it is the tide that has pushed his body there, after stealing his breath and life?

There is only one way to know, and you waste no time in covering the short distance that separates you from the man as quickly as you can, before falling to your knees by his side. You observe him for a moment as you leave your bag and sandals on the sand next to you, your eyes lingering on the bright red of his water-soaked hair before noticing that the man is missing an arm - not because of whatever misfortune led him to your shores, you decide, since he is not bleeding and even your untrained eye can see his is an old wound. This poor man must be unable to swim; he must have drowned, you realise, after having fallen, or been pushed, from whatever vessel he was sailing on…

Realising you should check whether he is actually dead or you can still do something to help him, before wasting time speculating, you hurry to shake him by the shoulder, gently at first and then more forcefully. “Sir, are you alright? Can you hear me?” you ask; you can’t be fully sure he speaks your language, but he will answer in any case, won’t he? “Please… please don’t be dead…”

No answer whatsoever, not even a movement or a grimace of pain; you feel your heart in your throat as you pass his arm around your shoulders and gently push him on his back to check his heartbeat, which allows you to give a good look at who you still consider the victim of a tragic, but relatively normal, shipwreck. The man doesn’t look much older than you, andis almost certainly not a native of the island; he has hair of a beautiful, flame-bright red, the agile but strong body of a man used to physical effort… and a large, nasty wound on his left side, a span under his armpit. 

You observe it carefully, deeply shaken but able to keep the horror at bay as you try to figure out if there is still something you can do to help this man. You have never seen anything like this wound; it looks like he was bitten, by something very large, which is not particularly surprising given the fact the man was in the water; but even if he were attacked by a shark or another predator, how could he survive, since his impairment makes it impossible for him to swim? Was he attacked before he fell, or jumped, in the water?  

You don’t need any knowledge of medicine (which you completely lack, unless being the sister in law of a capable nurse counts for something) to decide whether a person is alive or dead, so you quickly press your ear against the man’s torso, and sigh relieved in hearing his heartbeat, just a little fainter than it would be normal. He is just unconscious, and, you decide, you will try once more to revive him before going to ask for help in any case; you will find someone strong enough to carry him, and soon the man will be well-cared for at the town’s clinic. “Sir, can you hear me? Please, wake up…”

Finally, he does answer - even if not properly in words. “Aahh…” he moans, clearly in pain; with an evident effort, the man finally opens his eyes, brown irises meeting yours. 

“Hello.” you greet him, but judging from his reaction you may as well have threatened his life, because the man, startled, suddenly panics; he cries something unintelligible and waves his arm, clearly trying to keep you away. Instinctively you grab his wrist, trying to hold him still to avoid worsening his wound. “Calm down!”

“No, no…! Let me go…”

He does speak your language, you are relieved to learn. “It’s alright, sir. I am a friend; I don’t want to hurt you, but please, you need to calm down, you are wounded…”

And then something appears, moves, in your peripheral vision, and you, in turn, freeze.

You had paid no mind to the man’s lower half, still submerged, focused as you were on his wound and on making sure he could still be helped, but now, as he struggled, you have seen something pop out of the water for a moment… something that looked nothing like a leg, or a foot. 

Incredulous -you must be mistaken, that’s the only logical explanation, and after all you barely saw it, for half a second and not very clearly- you force yourself to look back at the man, tense and worried, who clearly wishes he could escape and put an end to your acquaintance. “You are safe.” you try to reassure him, letting his arm go and opening your own hands to prove you are unarmed “I don’t want to hurt you, but you are wounded…”

The man lowers his gaze to the nasty gash at his side and blinks, as if he hadn’t realised he had been wounded until now - or surprised he’s still alive. He looks back at you, still tense as he tries to ascertain whether you are worthy of trust or pose a danger to him, and suddenly stumbles, too weak even to prop himself up on one elbow. “You need to leave.” he tells you, more desperate than forceful… a plea, not an order “And tell no one you have seen me. Please, I am fine…”

“You couldn’t be less fine if you tried!” you exclaim, exasperated; why is he refusing your help, given the clear state of distress he is in? Doesn’t he realise that if left to his own devices he could die before the end of the day? “You are wounded, I can’t leave you…” 

And then the man faints again, his head hitting the sand. Frustrated, you sigh and decide that the first thing to do, before leaving to look for help, is pulling him out of the water, hoping he’s not too heavy for you; this unfortunate, stubborn man is already soaking wet, the last thing you want is for him to catch pneumonia. So you lift yourself up and, circling his shoulders with your arm once more, you prepare to drag him towards the beach… and a moment later you are forced to stop, but not out of tiredness.

You were right.

The stranger who stumbled on your favourite beach, God only knows how, is a normal man from the waist up, but further down… he isn’t, at all. 

He is a fish. He has a tail - a long, strong tail covered in blue-green scales, shiny under the late afternoon sun, a single limb roughly as wide as the legs of a man of his size pressed together; his caudal fin, split in the middle, is of a paler blue, the same colour as the gentle waves in front of you, semi-transparent. 

You know what he is, of course; you had never seen one, you had never imagined you ever would, given those like him are supposed to be the stuff of the legends sailors tell and artists reproduce on maritime paintings, but you still remember the stories your mother told you and your sister when you were younger, and that you still believed in your innocence to be true; stories of a mysterious, dangerous and still playful kin, whose songs could unleash storms and who lived in great cities in the depth of the sea… 

“A mermaid.” you whisper, breathless; you don’t even notice you are speaking out loud, so stunned you are “He is a mermaid.”

You feel the urge to touch him - which would be improper, probably, but would confirm what part of you still can’t come to terms with, even though he is right there, unconscious but clearly alive and real, and suddenly you have so many questions. Where does he come from? Who, or what, attacked him? Is he the last of his kind or, more likely, he is part of a more or less numerous species, whose existence is unknown to yours? How come he speaks your language? 

What you know for sure, for some difficult to explain reason, is that you need to hide him; this man needs help, and you are the only one who can protect him, taking care of his wound and making sure no one learns of his presence. You have no reason to feel protective of him, but you do, and while you can’t very well carry him home and ask your sister and brother in law to keep him there hidden, you don’t want the town’s sailors to sell him to the highest bidder, or to cut him in pieces to create some miraculous potions, since according to some legends an elixir made with a mermaid’s blood or flesh can cure any illness or even make a person immortal.

(Children’s tales, of course. Or are they?)

Fortunately you are just a few steps away from a small grotto, at the very end of the beach, its entrance covered by bushes; it is hard to find it unless one knows where to look, which makes it the perfect hiding spot for your new friend. Aware that the quicker you get him away from the beach, the safer he will be, you pass his arm around your shoulders and begin dragging him towards the grotto, the short distance nonetheless requiring several minutes of intense work, the mermaid’s body way too heavy for you. In the end, breathless and aching for the effort, you help him lie down on the ground, the domed ceiling above your heads, and observe your new ward, still unbelieving but suddenly preoccupied for his future. Everybody knows most sea creatures cannot survive long on land; what if your desire to keep him hidden ends up further weakening this already debilitated man, or even killing him? Perhaps, besides taking care of his wound, you should keep his body wet, or at least his tail…

Moan.

You cup his face with your hand. “Can you hear me?” you ask, spontaneously dropping the sir and assuming a more informal tone, as if the two of you had known each other for years; as if you were friends “You’re wounded, but now you’re safe, it’s going to be alright.”

“Hmm…”

“Can you open your eyes?”

He struggles for a while, and in the end brown irises meet yours once more. “What… what happened to me?” he murmurs, still clearly dazed; he speaks your language fluently, even though his accent is different from any you have ever heard.

“I found you on the beach, unconscious; you have been bitten… by something.” you explain, and the mermaid again spends a few seconds contemplating the wound on his side, that must hurt terribly; judging by his expression, he understands the gravity of his situation all too well, as well as the fact he’s lucky to be alive “It’s going to be alright. I’ll go find someone…” 

“No.” 

“What do you mean, no? You are wounded. If we don’t take care of it, you could die.”

Your new friend shakes his head stubbornly. As he looks at you he seems… not exactly afraid, but somehow reticent; he doesn’t know whether he can trust you, even though he has realised he does need your help and he will probably not survive on his own “No one… no human can see me. No one can know I’m here.”

“But I know. I have seen you.”

“And you’re already one person too many. Please, you need to go; I’ll… manage.”

You softly point out that, wounded and clearly debilitated as he is, he simply can’t manage, especially if someone from the nearby town sees him or whatever bit him is still waiting in the water to finish the job. His wound could get infected, but if you go call your brother in law, a capable nurse who will surely understand the need to keep the identity of his patient secret…

And then, as you are still trying to convince him, you both hear the voices of men arguing, and then a dog barking; they’re still far away, perhaps midway along the beach, but quickly approaching. The mermaid’s sun-kissed skin seems to pale all at once; you hear him swear under his breath. “They found me…”

“Who?” you inquire.

“Fishermen; from your town, perhaps, I don’t know. They saw me swim towards the shore, and they followed me. I thought I had lost them, but I was wrong…”

The men’s voices grow clearer by the moment; you hear one of them ask his friends where has that blasted creature gone. They might not notice the grotto, but if they do they’ll find the mermaid in less than a minute, and you doubt you’ll be able to defend him. 

You have only a moment to reflect on what to do; fortunately, it is more than enough. “I’ll take care of them.” you announce as you stand, your skirt and legs covered in sand.  

“... what?”

“You just stay here and don’t make a sound.” you order, and your new friend, still uncertain -and how could he feel otherwise, poor soul? Completely alone, his life in danger, forced to rely on the help of a person he has no reason to trust- has the good sense to obey.

You quickly leave the grotto, retrieve the bag and shoes you had abandoned on the sand and put as good a distance as you can from the hiding spot of your new friend; you can feel your heart pounding, but at the same time you are perfectly calm, clear-headed and ready to do whatever you can to help him. A few seconds later, a group of five men, armed with knives and nets, runs into you; one of them is holding a large dog, barking madly, by his collar.

“Hello, gentlemen.” you greet them in your most innocent tone; you have quickly picked up a few shells, in case you are asked what you are doing on the beach, but the men don’t seem to care about your favourite past-times. 

“You’ve seen a fish-man?” the one at the head of the small group brusquely asks you.

“Excuse me?”

“A man with a fish-tail! Have you seen him, girl?”

You decide to risk it. “Oh, yes!” you exclaim, trying to remember everything you learnt during the acting classes you attended when you were eleven - all three of them “I think I did, actually! Near the promontory.”

The place you have mentioned to make the men leave is quite far from the beach - so far, in fact, that they pause, unsure if their prey could have actually swum all the way over there in the short time since they last saw him. “Are you really sure?” the dog’s handler asks, raising his voice to make himself heard over the excited barking; you wonder whether the animal, a tracker dog, can smell your new friend’s scent.

“I am, sir. His tail was green and blue, and I saw him swimming just under the promontory as I walked here. I think he was wounded.”

Confirming the existence of the mermaid, when the men had perhaps only barely seen him and could therefore be convinced they had made a blunder and to abandon their search, is perhaps risky, but the details you added convince them of the veracity of your story.

“Let’s go get him, boys!” the group leader exclaims “I bet we can sell him for a million berries and even more!”

They depart in a run, the dog still barking, without even looking at you. You wait for them to have disappeared, shove the seashells in your bag, and return to the grotto, where the mermaid is waiting for you. “Everything is fine; they left.” you inform him as you kneel by his side once more.

“Are you sure?”

“I told them I saw you, but now they are looking for you in a place a mile away. I hope I did the right thing.”  

For the first time, the mermaid seems to relax -marginally, given he’s still in danger, but that’s already something; he smiles at you, openly grateful. “That was good thinking. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

You can’t stop looking at him, by now aware you are not dreaming and he actually is a mermaid, but still unable to fully come to terms with the simple truth of his existence. The creature in front of you is the stuff of legends, or of children's stories, but you can see him, and touch him, and talk to him. He is real, and that changes the meaning of the world as you know it…

“Maybe I should… pour some water on you?” you ask in the end, realising you have been openly staring for a while, something that being in his place you would find discourteous.

“Whatever for?”

“Maybe… I don’t know. Fish die if left out of the water for too long, I thought… since you’re half-fish… it could be the same for you mermaids.”

The man’s eyebrow arches, even though he seems more amused than offended; the bright red of his hair has lost no shine, even in the relative darkness of the grotto, where the sun rays don’t reach. “You think I am a mermaid?”

You look down to his fish-tail. “... yes? I mean, at least this is how I was taught mermaids look, human from the waist up and…”

“Yes, yes. But I am a male, don’t you see?”

“Of course I do. You’re a… male mermaid.”

Your new friend grins. “We prefer merman.” he explains “Or merpeople, when you want to talk about our whole kin. And it’s very kind of you, but we can remain on dry land for a while before it starts sapping our strength. On the other hand… I should probably get back in the water. It’s not safe for me to be here.”

“But you are wounded.” you point out again, feeling more than a little foolish because of course he knows that already; you wish you could ask him what exactly bit him, because if his kind exists then maybe marine monsters do as well, but you feel it’s more important to keep him safe “And you didn’t even have the strength to open your eyes when I found you. You are still too weak to return to the open sea.”

He looks at you; as you expected, your brief conversation seems to have exhausted him already, but the gaze of his brown eyes is lucid, and intense; eyes you can’t help feeling captivated by. “You’re a doctor?”

“No.” you admit “But anyone could see your wound needs to be taken care of. I… I could do it, if you want, and if you don’t want me to call for someone else. I have seen my brother in law sew up many wounds, and I am a seamstress, I’m quite good with a needle and thread.”

The aforementioned tools of the trade are in your bag, since you often visit your clients at home and it’s easier to carry them with you wherever you go; the mermaid - the merman looks at you, as if testing your resolve, and sighs as he lays down on the ground once more, too weak to even keep himself leaning on his elbow. “I guess the fault is mine; I should have been more careful.” he admits “Are you sure you can do it?”

“It will hurt.” you warn him; you’re avoiding his question and you both know it “But if I don’t suture the wound it’ll get infected, and for all I know your people could be ten times more resistant to illness and injury than mine, but…”

“... it would be dangerous in any case; I know. Very well.” the merman decides, his hand raised in a gesture of impotence; but then he smiles at you, and that is reassurance enough “I’m in your hands.”

The merman tells you that, unlike what usually happens with humans, you can use salt water to clean his wound, which you do, quickly pacing back and forth between the grotto and the shore, since you don’t have a bottle or a basin you can use and you are forced to carry as much water as you can in your cupped hands. Then, it is finally time for you to get to work; fortunately your sewing kit has just what you need, a needle of the right size, that you clean carefully, and more than enough black thread to suture any wound. The merman lies on his good side in front of you, as he observes you preparing for an undertaking you are suddenly unsure you can measure up to. You are an excellent seamstress, and while there is clearly a large difference between sewing fabric, no matter how costly, and a person’s skin, you had witnessed your brother in law at work, with his and the patient’s permission, often enough to know what to do. If only your hands would stop shaking…

“It’s alright.” the merman promises softly; he must have perceived how tense you are, but he looks as calm and relaxed as if the one preparing to tend to him were the best surgeon of the four seas “You’ll do great, I’m sure.”

You smile weakly, kneeling in front of him; your sister must be wondering where you are, perhaps even whether something has happened to you, but even though you would never want to worry her, at the moment you are too focused on him to care about anything else. “I just… don’t want to hurt you more than you already are.”

“Those like me are hardier than we look; I’ll be fine. Just imagine I am a frill you are sewing on a dress.”

The thought makes you laugh; you should probably wonder how a creature who has no legs, and therefore has no way to learn about human society and customs, knows what a frill is, but again, the determination to help him has eclipsed any other consideration. A deep breath, a quick prayer… and you get to work. Your patient remains perfectly still as you sew the two halves of the wound together, betraying no trace of pain or discomfort; you can feel his brown eyes on you, his skin cool but tender under your hands.

A whole day passes in ten minutes; in the end you breathe out, and observing the results of your efforts you must admit you did a good job. Will it be enough? Unless there is a well-equipped hospital at the bottom of the sea, and since your new friend refuses to have a professional see him, you can’t help being still worried for him. What if your stitches don’t hold, and his wound bleeds again, becoming infected? What if whatever is responsible for that wound attacks him again…?

“You did a great job.” your patient says, cautiously examining the stitches with his fingers “Really, I think any nurse or doctor would approve. You should be proud of yourself.”

His genuine gratitude makes a smile bloom on your lips. “I’m just glad I could help.”

“And help you did. Thank you…?”

He looks at you questioningly as he slowly turns on his back, his long tail folded on one side, and it takes you a minute to catch his meaning. “Oh! I’m (name), (full name).”

“That’s a lovely name. I wish I could tell you mine, since you probably saved my life, but I can’t, and I’d rather not lie to you.”

You would be curious to know the reason for his reticence, not to mention what kind of names merpeople give their children, but you decide not to ask. “Do you need to eat?” you inquire instead.

“I’m sorry?”

“Well… you must feel very weak, given what happened and the blood you must have lost, so I thought… I have no food with me, or water, but I can go home and take some, if you want. It wouldn’t take long.”

He looks at you, amusement and a touch of disbelief dancing in his eyes; he has a lovely smile, you can’t help noticing. “You are a wonder, you know?” he asks, shaking his head “You didn’t know my kin existed, right?”

“I had no idea! I might have to pinch myself to make sure I am not dreaming.”

“As I expected. You must have… a hundred questions to ask me, and instead you’re worrying I might be hungry.”

“Well, I worked so hard to make sure you don’t die of your wound, the last thing I want is for you to starve.” you point out “Also, since you apparently can’t even tell me your name, I doubt you could tell me… I don’t know, how many of your people exist in the world, how you reproduce or if it’s true that the song of a mermaid can enchant sailors and cause storms.”

Your new friend smiles, admitting that he’d rather not talk too much about his people. “I know it’s unfair; you saved my life, you would deserve to ask as many questions as you want, but we have all sworn to keep our existence secret from humans, I guess you can understand why.”

You think about the bear you have seen exhibited at the fair last year, kept in a cage so small it could barely move, starved to keep him compliant, and in the end killed after the owner had offered a modest sum to any man brave enough to fight him barehanded, and the old wives’ tales, who some people still rely on today, that swear that just a few drops of mermaid’s blood can make a person immortal. 

“Of course; no one must know you actually exist, otherwise you’d be hunted.” you admit; unfortunately your new friend has been seen by the fishermen you diverted to the promontory, but you are confident no one will believe their stories, ascribing them to the traditional tall tales told by sea-men or the sight of a normal, large fish “I… I won’t tell anyone I have met you; not even my dearest friends or my family. You have my word.”

“Thank you, (name); I think… no, I know I can trust you.” 

An unexpected warmth fills you at those words; you know he has no choice in the matter, since all he can do is hope you won’t share his secret with anyone, but knowing he has faith in you actually… makes you happy; proud, even, that you have earned his respect.

For a minute you both remain silent, simply staring at each other, the merman apparently as curious about you as you are about him, since he’s the one who starts asking questions, even though he’s clearly tired. “Do you visit this beach often?”

“I do; it’s my special place, especially when I want to be alone to think.”

“Well, you’re not alone today.”

“I am not.” you agree, and for a moment you’re about to ask him to return, because the beach, quiet and isolated, could become your meeting place, once in a while, and while you had never asked anyone to accompany you there, not even your sister, you wouldn’t mind sharing it with him: a man coming from the sea and a woman born on land, meeting on a place that is a threshold between their worlds. It would be nice; it would be splendid, but of course, you realise with a sigh, you can’t ask your new friend to risk being captured again. 

“What happened to your arm?” you ask back, and his eyebrow arches once more, even though the merman is still smiling.

“I thought we had just agreed that I can't answer your questions.”

“But this concerns you, not your kin; and I couldn’t use this information to hunt you down or prove the fact merpeople exist, even if I wanted to.”

“True.” your new friend admits; he grins, as if genuinely pleased he does have something to share with you. “I lost my arm a few months back; it was bitten off by… well, an animal.”

“A shark?”

“They are larger and more dangerous than any shark, and of anything you could imagine; but they live in the depth of the oceans, which means they pose no danger to humans. That day a child I know had ventured in their territory, and I went after him. You can imagine the rest.”

“Oh, God… that’s horrible.” you murmur, not knowing what else to say “That was… incredibly brave of you.”

“Well, I couldn’t let Luf… the child be eaten, could I? And I don’t need both arms to swim like you do, so it wasn’t much of a sacrifice in the end.”

He smiles, as if losing a limb actually wasn’t something to regret, since it was to save an innocent. “Do you have a family of your own?”

“Do you?”

“I asked you first.”

“And I asked you second.” you answer; you’re having fun, and you know it’s the same for him “The answer is no. I live with my sister’s family, her husband and children.”

“And you never think about leaving?” he asks again, and you tense for a moment, because that is the sort of question your sister often asks you, even though in a slightly different sense from the one you know the merman intends.

And the answer is no; you’ll never leave, because you have been the one left behind, and you don’t care if your sister would be fine with it and even happy for you, you won’t make the same choice he made…

“Find a house of my own, you mean? I could, one day, but until my nephews are a little older I want to remain where I am and help my sister and brother in law with them, since they both work out of the house, unlike me.” you explain. Another possibility would be for you to get married and go live with your spouse, but since no one has ever asked for your hand, or even just attracted your attention enough to make you consider taking the plunge, for the moment at least you’re happy as you are “What about you?”

Your new friend tries to convince you he has seven wives and thirteen husbands before admitting he is unmarried and has no children, even though he loves the child he sacrificed his arm for like a son. 

By the time he has shared this information, the merman is fighting to keep his eyes open, the exhaustion clear on his face and in his voice. “You should rest for a while.” you suggest; the ground inside the grotto is not the most comfortable of beddings and you have nothing to fashion a pillow for him, but he does need to regain his strength “I can find some wood and light a fire if you want; and I’ll stay watch outside, of course.”

This time he arches both eyebrows. “You have nothing better to do?”

“Than to make sure no one sees you, and warn you in case those fishermen return? No, I don’t think so.” you retort, and then, as he prepares to protest: “It’s alright; I have no urgent work matters to attend to, and my sister won’t need me until dinnertime. Please, be reasonable; the beach is little frequented, but we can’t exclude the possibility someone sees you.”

You said we, without really thinking about it; it came to you spontaneously, as if it were normal - as if you and the merman were used to acting as an united front, sticking together in times of danger. You don’t notice; he does, and doesn’t complain, but smiles gratefully at you and two minutes later he’s already sleeping heavily, his arm bent under his bright red hair, the green-blue scales of his tail catching the faint light of the sun.

The beach remains completely empty for the next two hours, as the warm afternoon gently declines towards the evening. You wonder whether the fishermen are still searching for their prey at the promontory, or if they plan to return to the area they saw the merman in tomorrow; in that case you should come back as well, you reason as you sit on a large rock not far from the grotto, eyes and ears ready to perceive any sign of an intrusion, and make sure your new friend is safe. You don’t even care about the many appointments you have programmed for the day, not to mention you’ll have to tell your sister you cannot take care of your nephews while she’s at work; this is more important. Protecting him… this is more important than anything you could imagine.

You still can’t believe it. A merman, a creature you considered the stuff of legends and children stories, and he’s there, living and breathing, all things considered much more human than you would have imagined him to be, with his easy smile and open gratitude. If his wound heals as it should, he should be fine; strictly speaking his well-being doesn’t concern you, and trying to defend him from anyone who could find and try and take him away could put you in danger as well, but you don’t care: you want to see him return to the sea, safe and sound, and from then on, even though you doubt you’ll ever see him again, any time you visit the beach you’ll look at the blue expanse of the sea and think back to today, and hope he hasn’t forgotten you…

Two hours after the beginning of your patrol shift, you hear him call your name softly from the grotto; the merman is awake, and smiles at you as he rubs his eyes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even realise I was going to fall asleep.”

“Well, you did need to rest.” you point out as you sit on the ground “And fortunately you have chosen the least visited beach of the region, because no one came. Listen, I could… go home to take some food, and tell my sister I’ll sleep at a friend’s place, and then come back…” 

“Out of the question.”

“The decision is mine, not yours. I can also take an ointment out of my brother in law’s cabinet, something to make sure your wound doesn’t get infected…”

“(name)…”

A moment later, a large, callous but gentle hand has taken yours to bring it to the merman’s face; he kisses the back, something that for your people has gone out of fashion at least a century ago and that has the power to make you blush furiously, and lose the power of speech. There is nothing lascivious, or even just romantic, in that gesture, but the gratitude it expresses is intense enough to move you.

“I hope your friends and family know how kind and generous you are.” your new friend murmurs; he’s still smiling, his messy red hair brushing against your hand “Thank you, (name); I really don’t know what would have become of me if you hadn’t found me. I will never forget you.”

“And I will never forget meeting you, that’s for sure. But I need to stay…”

“No, you don’t; do you really think those fishermen would return at night? I’ll be fine, and you have to go home to your family. There’s no need for you to spend a night in the open.”

You negotiate for a while, and in the end you accept to leave, promising you will be back tomorrow morning as early as you can, bringing the ointment and something to eat for him. “Err… what do you eat, exactly?” you ask, wondering which one of his two halves determine the sort of food he can ingest. On the other hand, a merman can’t very well hunt for game in the woods or farm cattle to produce milk and cheese… 

“I’d really like a whale steak, thank you.”

“Sorry, market day is on tuesday.” you answer, feigning regret, and a moment later you are both giggling.

“Some bread and water will be more than fine. Now go, (name), I don’t want your family to worry.” he urges you, and you prepare to leave, retrieving your things and making sure to leave no trace of your passage in the grotto. 

“Please, take care of yourself.” you tell him; there is probably no more obvious thing you could say, but you can’t help it “I’ll be back soon, I promise.”

He simply winks in return, looking at you until you disappear out of his shelter, and you have to force yourself to walk, every step more difficult than the last, your determination to go on rather than turning back and spend the night at the grotto, whatever your new friend may think about it, quickly dissipating.

Leaving him is hard. Painful, even, as if you were letting go of something precious; and despite the relative security of the place you have left him at, part of you fears that is exactly what you are doing. 

If your sister notices there is something weird in you that night -specifically, that she and her husband need to repeat every single word they tell you because you are clearly not paying attention, and you’re so distracted you have put sugar instead of salt in the soup, ruining the dinner for the entire family- she apparently decides not to mention it. But on the next morning, when she sees you head towards the house door at the crack of dawn -you have tried to be as quiet as you could, but having two young children seems to have somehow sharpened her hearing- she takes your hand in hers and asks where you are going.

“I’m sorry, I can’t tell you.” you answer, holding your bag protectively against you, heavy with food for your friend you have taken from the pantry: a water bottle, a whole loaf of still soft bread and two apples. You also hope your brother in law won’t check his supplies cabinet soon, because he would find his stash of bandages and ointment have drastically decreased “You don’t need to worry, I’m not in danger or anything; but there is something I need to do.”

“Can you at least tell me how long you will be gone?”

“I don’t know.” you admit; if the merman’s wound hasn’t gotten infected there is not much more you can do for him, and the sooner he returns to the sea the safer he will be, but you still hope you can… spend some time together, talk, like you did yesterday. You won’t ask about his people, if there is an even slight chance that could put him in danger, but at the same time there is so much you want to know… about him “Please, don’t ask; I’ll be safe, I promise.”  

She looks at you, trusting but still worried for your sake, wrapped in a shawl she inherited from your mother; this is why, perhaps, you are suddenly reminded of her as your sister looks at you. Then, suddenly, she smiles, and “(name), are you going to meet a man?” she asks.

“... what?”

“You are! I should have known. You were clearly distracted last night, and I heard you sing to yourself as you washed the dishes, which is something you only do when you are happy. Have you met recently? Or is it someone you already knew?”

“No, I… it’s not what you think.” you try to explain, suddenly embarrassed for some unfathomable reason; the truth is you are going to meet a man, strictly speaking, but no matter how much you trust your sister, you can’t tell her about him “It’s not… that sort of situation.”

She gently reassures you she doesn’t mean to judge you or to pry, and then mentions that in the afternoon she will accompany the children to visit a family friend, and her husband will be at work. “You can… invite your friend over, if you want. I’m so sorry you don’t have more time for yourself, since you help us so much with the children, perhaps it’s our fault if there is no one important in your life…

“There is someone important in my life; you, and your family.” you quickly point out, not wanting her to feel guilty for a situation you have embraced willingly. Mostly. “You know I love taking care of the children, and I like my life as it is now. Listen… I have to go now; you really don’t need to worry, so please don’t try and stop me.”

Still unsure, your sister nonetheless respects your wishes, and a moment later you are meeting the rising sun as you run down the still empty streets of the town, your heart heavy with dread and excitement both.

When you finally reach your destination your heart is ready to burst, even though the long, hard run is only partially responsible; as you expected -and hoped- the place seems deserted as usual, but you still walk from one side of the beach to the other, making sure the men you were able to mislead yesterday did not return to ambush your new friend.

Your fears assuaged, you finally approach the grotto, from where no sound can be heard. “Hi… it’s me, (name).” you call softly as you reach the entrance; you feel… trepidation, a feeling you have had very few occasions to experiment before and that you can’t explain; it reminds you of the emotion you saw on your sister’s face on the day her husband came to the house to officially ask for her hand “I have the food, and something for your wound. How do you…?”

The words die in your throat; and a part of you dies as well, when you find yourself staring at the inside of the grotto, completely empty. For half a moment your heart is seized by terror as you imagined the fishermen, or whoever could have stumbled upon him and realised the large sum of money he could be sold for, who kidnapped your friend taking advantage of the fact he has no way to run - literally; and then you see something on the ground among the rocks, in the exact spot you sat on yesterday to sew up his wound. 

A flower - a small but pretty little thing, picked from one of the bushes covering the entrance of the grotto and left there as a tiny, heartfelt gift, and next to it, the briefest of messages left in the dirt, using the writer’s finger as a pen.

Thank you

It doesn’t say good-bye, but the intention is evident. The sea’s roar fills the air, but perhaps you’re the one who is screaming, in your heart at least, the disappointment so intense, unexpected and painful that you are sure you can feel your heart break in a thousand pieces, a figure of speech that has never felt so real. A moment later you run out of the grotto towards the shore, hoping against hope he lingered, despite the danger, that he waited for you to come as he had promised, to say farewell. Despite the sunny sky above it the sea is rough today, high waves rising from the blue expanse and crashing down on the beach. But there is no bright red head peeking through the foam, no hand raised to wave good-bye.

He left. He left without waiting for you, and that is what pains you the most. In all fairness, he never actually said he would wait (and how could you not think about it? Why didn’t you make him promise he would, to be sure you could see him once more at least?) but you can’t help feeling disappointed, even betrayed, like a bride abandoned at the altar. He did ask you for food, and approved when you said you would bring an ointment for his wound; and it’s not like you arrived late, since you had promised to come at dawn and the sun has barely appeared above the horizon behind the sea - a breathtaking scene you still can’t appreciate. Did he simply wake up this morning and decided he felt strong enough to swim, the longing for home making him overlook the fact you would arrive soon expecting to find him there? Or he had decided your first meeting would be the last as well from the start, and left deliberately before you would come? 

Whatever the reason behind it, the truth is you have lost him - you’ll never see the merman again, and that grieves you more than you could explain in words, even though you only spent a few hours together and you had always known he would have to return to the sea soon. You had nothing to gain from that unexpected acquaintance, berries least of all, and still you feel as if you had lost something precious, something special that would have made your life richer nonetheless, that you can’t help grieving. 

Your legs hurt after the long run from home, so you let yourself fall on a large rock, from where you contemplate the vast blue expanse, under which your new -and lost- friend is now swimming happily, having left the dry world, and you, behind him.

Why did you leave? I wanted to say good-bye at least. If you were actually grateful, if you actually cared, you would have waited for me…

That is what pains you the most, even though you could never admit it, and it makes you feel more foolish than any love-stricken young girl; the fact that judging by his actions at least, and despite the message he left, he didn’t care for you. You spent a sleepless night, thrilled about the prospect of seeing and talking to him again, and he left, for all you know without a care for you and your efforts. You can’t blame him for being anxious to return home, and you’re happy he had recovered from his wound enough to crawl to the shore and swim, but still… he could at least have said good-bye.

But after all, why am I surprised? In the end, everybody leaves. In the end, no one ever stays for me.

You can feel tears filling your eyes, but you angrily order yourself not to shed them and to stop being foolish, because he owed you nothing and you have no objective reason to feel the merman has abandoned you, no matter how your heart says otherwise. 

You remain on the beach until you’re sure you’re in control of yourself once more, then you return home, just in time to help your sister prepare breakfast and send the children to school. When she sees you return, disappointment and heartbreak having taken the place of the excitement she had seen on your face an hour before, she assumes the worst. 

“What happened?! (name), did… did someone hurt you? Were you…?”

“No, no; I’m fine, just…” you sigh, both unable and unwilling to explain the reason for your distress; unable and unwilling to explain you feel just like when he left, and you had forgotten how terrible a sensation it is “Don’t ask, please; but I’d really like a hug, if you can.”

She can, and you let yourself feel comforted by her solid presence and quiet, tacit acceptance; reassured nothing terrible has happened to you, and having known her share of heartbreak before meeting her husband, your sister holds you in her arms and murmurs she’s sorry and everything will be alright, and obviously she’s right, but it hurts, and you know already no matter how happy and rich a life you will have, you’ll never forget this disappointment.

TAGGING @alucardsdaddyissues and @luuffyswife. Thank you so much for asking!!