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sazc94 · 3 years

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The Three Times James "Bucky" Barnes Broke your heart

This was inspired by @msmarvelwrites 2k Writing Challenge because I'm a sucker for Taylor Swift especially sad Taylor Vibes. I chose the all too well lyrics.

Apparently, I can't do anything small so it's in two parts.

Part 2 Here

Pairs Bucky x Reader and Pietro x Reader. (Not at the same time)

No smut but mentions of sex so 18+

Themes: highschool, cheating, college/uni. Friendship

Words 5659 its Suburban AU.

Winter 2018

You sat on the window seat, head resting on the cool glass a mug of hot chocolate between your hands. Winter in New York was something else, the way everything sparkled in the blanket of snow. This wasn’t your first December in the “Big Apple” but it was your first after moving here. Like the walking cliché you were you had moved here for a Fresh Start, after being offered a once in a lifetime opportunity of working for Tony Stark. You hadn’t planned on taking the job working as head of advertising for Stark Industries. The idea of moving from your small town in Michigan away from your family, everyone you knew and loved, and most importantly away from your best friend and your on-again-off-again boyfriend Bucky seemed ludicrous. You knew James or Bucky as he was to those who knew and loved him would never leave Michigan not if it meant leaving her.

James and you had been friends since, well as since long as you could remember. You had lived on the same street, gone to the same schools, played in the streets on your bikes when you were 8, played in the local park between the ages of 10 and 12. When you both hit 13 everyone assumed you would both either stop being friends or would fall romantically in love. Neither of those happened at least not right away. You two carried on hanging around each-others houses, playing video games and watching movies. Bucky had always been fiercely protective over you, his blue eyes narrowing at anyone who dared to pick on you when you were younger. His eyes would light up when you walked into the room, he loved Friday nights saved just for the pair of you to watch cheesy horror films, lounge around his sofa and stuff your faces with popcorn.

2008

Everything changed when you were 15, you and Bucky had always been inseparable, when no one asked you to combined Prom in your Freshman year, Bucky had surprised you. Showing up at your house dressed in a suit and tie with a white rose corsage, his long brown hair slicked back. You walked downstairs in your ballet slipper pink chiffon dress, your locks twisted into an intricate bun, this was the first time you’d worn heels and you nearly missed the bottom step when you saw Bucky in his Grey Suit stood in your living room. Bucky had tried out for the football team and obviously to no ones’ surprise had become the Star QB. As a result of that Bucky’s grey suit stretched across his muscular frame. Once you’d saved yourself from falling face-first down the last stair you walked over to Bucky grinning like a fool. “Bucky, what, what are you doing here? I thought you were going with Sam and Pietro and the rest of the football team” you said. “Well, I couldn’t leave my best girl flying solo at our first prom now, could I?” Bucky grinned down to you. “Besides the rest of the guys were meeting dates at the dance, so I told them I’d meet them there with you” you felt yourself blush at Bucky’s term of endearment. You and Bucky posed for photos for your Mum and Dad, your Dad trusted Bucky like his own son so there was no awkward father stare down there, you even had your curfew extended to 2 am.

The prom itself was magical, Bucky introduced you to his teammates and their dates. Sam was there with a cheerleader, Jane Foster she was friends with the cool alternative girl Wanda Maximoff who was Pietro’s twin sister they were Sophomores but made you feel welcome at their table. Complimenting your hair and shoes. Pulling you onto the dancefloor to dance with them and the rest of the cheerleaders and co to the pumped-up pop songs that blasted out. The way the gym had been transformed was nothing short of breath-taking, led fairy lights strung up in waves from the ceiling, silver stars hanging against the velvet blue backdrops made you believe you were spending the night under the stars. When the music changed to a slow song -Tim McGraw by an up-and-coming artist Taylor Swift. The Group of girls surrounding you soon dissipated to slow dance with their respective others. You started to make your way back to the table you’d been sat at, happy to finally take a breather when you felt someone tug on your wrist. You turned around fully prepared to slap whatever creep had felt it suitable to touch someone they didn’t know but your face softened to find the familiar blue-eyed, muscular brunette smirking at you. “Miss Y/N” may I have this dance?”, he asked. “Why certainly, MR James Buchanan Barnes” you replied chuckling to yourself. Bucky cocked an eyebrow at the use of his full name before pulling you tight towards him. He wrapped your arms around his neck before wrapping his around your waist. Your breath caught in the back of your throat, you and Bucky had never been this intimate, sure still hugged and had kissed each other on the cheek when you were like 5, but this felt different. The way Bucky enveloped you, the scent of his aftershave mixed with his mum’s washing powder he smelt like cherry blossom mixed with sandalwood. You rested your head on Bucky’s chest, closing your eyes deciding to take this all in. A small smile tugged on your lips as you felt Bucky stroke your hips. You didn’t know it, but he looked at you with such love and adoration and his heart squeezed watching you rest your head on his chest the smile on your pale pink lips. Bucky moved his right hand from your waist and brought it to your cheek, slightly stroking it before lifting your face to look him in the eyes. His eyes shone with affection; his eyes so blue like the ocean you felt like you were drowning in them. Then his lips were on yours crashing against your slightly chapped lips, you cursed yourself for not wearing Chapstick like the cheerleaders and Wanda did. However, as the kiss deepened, and you felt Bucky’s left-hand grip on you together and you melted into the kiss everything else faded away. Bucky drew back and looked at you. Your smile dazzling him as your eyes shone back at him. Neither of you said a word as he pulled you back to his chest whilst the DJ played another slow song.

2009 - 2010

Bucky and you dated from the end of your Freshman year right up until the summer before your senior year. Bucky and you had been inseparable for most of your High School life, he even convinced you to try out for the cheerleading squad in your Junior year, usually you sat on the Side-lines with Wanda and Carol Danvers, it wasn’t that you didn’t want to be a cheerleader it's just you were comfortable being “Bucky’s Girl” the one everyone knew without being in the spotlight, however after Wanda and Carol egged you on saying that you had the moves you went for it. You surprisingly made the squad. You couldn’t wait to tell Bucky, warmth spreading through your cheeks at the thought of how he’d be so proud. You decided to keep it quiet until you had your uniform. Jane and the girls had also promised to keep their mouths shut until you’d had the chance to surprise him. So, when homecoming rolled around, and you got your uniform for the first time you went along to the locker rooms where the football team would be heading off to change before the big pep rally. You stood against the wall one foot pressed against it, your knee bent whilst you waited. You heard Sam and Pietro before you saw them. They turned the corner roughhousing one another playfully. “Looking good Y/N” Sam shouted as he clocked you in your brand-new uniform. “looks like Bucky’s personal cheerleader now cheers for us all,” he said walking over to you and enveloping you in a hug. You giggled and at that moment Bucky Turned the corner with Peter Parker a freshman. He couldn’t see your uniform from the way that Sam’s body was covering yours, but he saw your face and started running down the hallway to you. As Sam and Pietro headed inside, he finally got to see the big reveal, he stopped in his tracks for a second. His eyes taking in every inch of your body, the skirt shorter than anything you owned, the top hugging your curves. He ran over to you picking you up and spinning you in the air as you squealed. “I knew you could do it Doll,” he said as he peppered kisses over your head, cheek, and lips. You blushed at his praise. Your Junior year with Bucky was a blur, between the football games, classes, parties’ dates with Bucky you felt like time was rushing past. You Even won Prom King and Queen at your Junior Prom. To no one’s surprise. However, that summer everything changed.

Summer 2010

You were on holiday with your family, visiting your grandparents in Miami. Every year you for as long as you could remember you and your family would spend the last 3 weeks of summer break at your grandparents. You had begged Bucky to come with you as he had in the past, however, due to football camp, he had been unable to swing it. “Hey, I’m sorry doll, it’s just coach said if I didn’t go he wouldn’t consider me for team captain,” he said hugging you from behind as you sat on your porch steps, his chin resting on your head. He had sworn to you that you would text every day and would skype at least once a week for the three weeks you were there. However, after the first week, Bucky’s texts had become less and less frequent. He’d only Skyped you once and you’d get texts from Various friends asking where you were as you weren’t at the latest party. On the final night of your holiday, as you walked along the beach by yourself taking in the last of the holiday feel your phone rang, you looked down it, confused when the caller Id said, Jane. “Hey, babe. Look I’m not sure how to say this” but uh we’re at a small party at Wanda and Pietro’s there’s about 15 of us, including this friend of mine Nat and uhm well, Bucky’s pretty wasted and well after I noticed I hadn’t seen him for a while I went looking for him”. Jane’s voice sounded stressed. You squeezed your eyes shut as tears tried to escape, not liking where this was going. “And uh, oh god I’m really sorry girl, but I, I kind of walked in on them fucking” Jane blurted it out, going for the band-aid approach as if saying it quicker would make it the cut sting any less. You didn’t say anything, you just stood there staring out the black ocean, the warm sand between your toes, feeling your heartbreak. You couldn’t believe it. Your sweet protective Bucky who had beaten up Miles Morales in 8th Grade for standing you up for an arcade date and breaking your heart. “I, I, I got to go my flights early tomorrow. My, my family will be wondering where I am” you stumbled over your words trying to get off the phone as quick as possible not wanting anyone to hear you cry.

Senior year was one of the most painful years, Bucky had met you at your house the day you got back, sitting on the wooden steps to your porch. He looked like he had barely slept, much like you. You were an only child, but your older cousin who was transferring to Michigan State University for his second year had come home with you. He took a look at Bucky and then back at you, you nodded telling him it was fine and that you had this. He walked inside but not before muttering punk under his breath. Bucky winced, he looked at you his blue eyes that once shone with nothing but love and adoration for you, now looked blank, empty, and almost unrecognisable. His brown hair which he had cut in his Sophomore year looked a mess. He started towards you, but you held your arm out.

“Don’t,” you said. He looked crestfallen and his heart shattered as you struggled to hold yourself together. “Doll, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over me, please, look at me, ill make it up to you, it will never happen again” he pleaded with you, his ocean blue eyes stared at your red brimmed eyes, cheeks puffy and streaked from all the crying over the last 16 hours. “Just don’t” You warned him. “Look, baby, it was a mistake, it meant nothing to me” he continued to plead despite your warning reaching out for your hand. His words hit you like a knife, you two hadn’t slept together yet and here he was claiming this meant nothing. You wrenched your hand free from him his touch burning you with his betrayal. “It meant nothing. It meant nothing!?! If it meant nothing you wouldn’t have slept with this Natasha James” you whispered. Bucky flinched at the use of his real name. Oh, how you wanted to shout, thrash scream at him and tell him you would forgive him, but you couldn’t. You had looked up the girls Instagram that night when you laid in bed crying and you couldn’t help but compare yourself to her the gorgeous read head with curves in all the right places. You started to walk towards your house. Unable to keep the tears back and not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry, Bucky called out for you, pleading with you. “I thought you loved me James, but it clearly meant something to you, or else you wouldn’t have thrown away two years of dating and 12 years of dating for sex with someone that wasn’t me, we were meant to be each other’s firsts, but you decided you couldn’t wait to get your dick wet so you went and fucked this chick you’ve known for what 5 minutes?” you cried out in anger, Bucky flinched again as if you’d slapped him. “Actually, I met her last year at one of our away game parties” he mumbled, his feet kicking the dirt around his feet. “I think you should leave” you whispered, choking back a sob before you ran into your house slamming the door behind you.

You and Bucky barely spoke that entire final year of school, you had been voted cheer Captain at the end of the summer semester, much to Jane’s approval, and you loved being a cheerleader, so you threw yourself into that as well as the school’s production of Little Shop of Horrors. You cheered at the games putting on your show face and hyping up the crowds. You wowed in the role of Audrey in the show, avoided parties with the football team and buckled down focusing on your exams and audition for the performing arts programme at the University of Michigan. After Bucky had realised, he was never going to get you to forgive him he had ended up dating Natasha. The news hit you like a sucker punch to begin with but after meeting up with Wanda, Carol, and Jane during the spring break you made your peace with it. You even smiled at Bucky in the hallways when you saw each other. By the time Graduation rolled around you had healed.

November 2011

You ended up getting into the University of Michigan on a partial scholarship thanks to your cheerleading and you were enjoying the performing arts programme, the performing arts programme at the Uni had really blown up after the whole viral “A Very Potter Musical” back in 2009 and you were thrilled to be there. You had settled right in making friends with a young lad from your course Loki Laufeyson right away. He was attractive in an unconventional way, with long black hair, a tall skinny frame but he still had muscles. You two had been cast opposite each other in Romeo and Juliet during your first year and had become good friends. You even ran into Pietro frequently he had gotten a football scholarship and couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw you on the sidelines one November game. Pietro didn’t really “do” social media and hadn’t paid any attention to Wanda as you had told her, after Bucky’s betrayal you hadn’t spoken much with Sam or Pietro, after all, they were his friends and were now Uni students. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t Bucky’s girl,” he said grinning at you after the game, ruffling your hair like you were 5 again. You couldn’t help but wince at the old pet name, everyone in the group had called you it, Sam, Wanda, Carol even Jane but you hadn’t been Bucky’s girl for a year, well longer if you take into consideration the fact he’d been chatting with Natasha on and off for the entire year before they slept together. “It’s just Y/N” or you can call me cutie you said winking at Pietro, he chuckled. “How about I just call you tomorrow?” he retorted, you felt yourself blush. Pietro had always been a cocky confident guy, his silver-blonde hair covering his ice blue eyes, he had always been a hit with the ladies, but he seemed that bit more attractive, slightly leaner, still confident but not arrogant. You shrugged before pulling out a sharpie from your bag, you wrote down your number on his arm. He cocked his head puzzled. “I changed it last year after Bucky wouldn’t stop blowing it up with apology texts,” you said simply. Before Pietro could respond you ran off to join the rest of your squad and headed for the changing room.

True to his charm and word, Pietro called you the next day offering to be your personal guide and show you all the hidden beauty spots of the campus. You accepted; even though you had been here for two months already. You walked around the campus and had a great time, you felt yourself really relaxing and laughing at his corny jokes and the way he wiggled his silver eyebrows at you whenever he made a bad joke. You couldn’t remember the last time you laughed, and you meant really laughed, the kind of clutched over struggling to get air into your lung’s laughter that the Silver-haired, blue-eyed cutie gave you. By the time Pietro had finished his tour the sun was beginning to dip, he walked you back to your dorm ever the gentleman. However, this time when your hands brushed against each other he grabbed your hand and spun you around. His hand was cool and smooth, a stark difference to Bucky’s warm calloused hands. The pair of you walked back hand in hand in comfortable silence. When you got to your dorm you leant against your door, your eyes meeting Pietro’s ice blue eyes, the almost sparkled. Pietro positioned himself so that he had one hand above your head, the other to your side trapping you between the door and himself. He leant down and kissed you. It was soft and delicate, his cool lips sucking the air out of your lungs. He pulled away winking at you before he sauntered off to join his teammates at some frat party.

That was the beginning of a three-year relationship with Pietro, you two had been on multiple dates, some official, some were just bumping into each other at the same party and then spending the rest of the evening together all through November and early December of your first year. He even came to support you at your Cheerleading competitions. Neither of you had put a label on it, but he had changed his home screen to a picture of the pair of you, it was one captured by Peter Parker, funnily enough, he was visiting the Uni with his photography club and captured the moment Pietro had picked you up after the Wolverines won their 6th game. He spun you around before dropping you down and kissing your forehead. Pietro didn’t know that you had seen his home screen. However as you were both travelling home for the Holidays you had agreed to travel together, Pietro had offered to drive but you had refused. Telling him that it would be easier for you to drive as you would be running lines late and therefore you could swing by his apartment on the way out of town. It was only a short drive to Dearborn but with the extra holiday traffic, you estimated it would take at least an hour to get to your parents. You connected your iPod to the car via AUX and pulled up your playlist you had made for the drive. You avoided all Christmas songs, and you were sick of them they played everywhere you went. Instead, you opted for Taylor Swift, damn she had blown up since 2008.

After about 30 minutes of driving as you hit the peak of the holiday traffic, you leant over to turn down the volume of your music. Comfortable with the pace of the traffic, you turned your head to Pietro. “So,” you began. “What’s up Bunny?” Pietro asked snapping his eyes up from his phone. “Well, I just thought now might be a good time to talk, we’re obviously going to run into a lot of our old friends, and there’s no way Wanda won’t know something is going on here, and I, I saw your lock screen,” you said, you could feel yourself blush, there was something about Pietro, he made you feel like a high school sophomore all over again. “So you were wondering what we are?” the amusement in Pietro’s voice didn’t escape your notice, you could feel yourself getting embarrassed. Of course, he was a college Sophomore, you two had never had the exclusive talk, how could you be so silly. You stared straight ahead focusing on the slow-moving traffic. Oh god, you wanted to die. Pietro noticed the change in your demeanour and instantly felt bad, he grabbed your right hand from the steering wheel. “Hey Bunny, look at me,” he said softly, you turned your head to face him. “We are exclusive, we are a couple, I’m sorry you felt the need to ask, but I adore you, so we are a thing,” he said stroking circles on the back of your hand. You smiled and nodded to yourself.

Almost everyone had made it back for the Holidays, excluding a few people, Bucky, Carol, and Jane, they all had their reasons, but you couldn’t help but feel a little sad that Carol and Jane had been unable to make it back. Wanda was elated for you and Pietro, to your surprise she threatened Pietro and not you. Christmas break came and went all too quickly. Pietro even brought you a small gift even though he didn’t celebrate Christmas, what with being Jewish. He was also very touched at your gift a small, framed copy of the photo of his lock screen, only in black and white except for the ribbon in your hair, the number on his Jersey matching his number painted on your cheek. The next year also seemed to rush by, between keeping on top of your studies, your rehearsals for the play, football matches, nationals for your cheerleading competition. It felt like you had barely any time to breathe.

2012

The summer between your 1st year and 2nd year was a small respite, Pietro had decided to stay in his apartment for the summer, he had a summer job and you decided to stick around after trying out for a local theatres summer production of Grease, unsurprisingly you had been cast as Patty Simcox a cheerleader. “How ironic, my little cheerleader playing a cheerleader” Pietro joked. You just rolled your eyes at him, that night Pietro stayed in your dorm, you were going to have to move out for the summer, your roommate for the year had decided she was going to move into her Sorority House next year and was going home for the summer. You and Pietro were cuddled up on the sofa watching Grease, you had your legs over Pietro and the arm of the sofa. To your surprise, Pietro had confessed he’d never seen it and had asked you to watch it with him so he could see who you would be playing. You let out a sigh. “What’s up bunny?” he asked not taking his eyes of the movie, he was rubbing small circles on your legs. “Student housing emailed me today, they said since Sophie is moving out and going home for the summer. I can’t stay in my dorm this summer. I’m trying to figure out where to go as the apartment I want to rent isn’t available until August” you said, blowing your hair out of your face. “Move in with me for the summer,” Pietro said without skipping a beat. “We’re not going to be around much in the daytime, you’ve spent a lot of nights at mine recently and it’s just for the summer, theirs a spare bedroom where you can store your stuff, and Wanda will be visiting in 3 weeks, it’s no big deal,” he said as he continued rubbing circles on your legs. You stared at him for a moment, your mind racing. “Okay,” you said nervously biting your lip. “Okay, I’ll move in for the summer,” you said again this time sounding surer of yourself. You picked up the remote and pressed pause on the DVD. You and Pietro had been dating for most of the school year, and he had been nothing but a gentleman never pressuring you for more than you were comfortable with, he knew Bucky had hurt you and you still hadn’t had sex yet as a result of it. You stood up a peeled of your jumper, Pietro cocked his head with his cute, puzzled expression. You didn’t say anything, instead, you removed your athletic shorts leaving you in nothing but one of Pietro’s football jerseys and your panties. You walked to your bedroom. Pietro didn’t move. After a few moments of waiting for him to follow you walked to your door frame and coughed, Pietro looked at you. “Well, are you coming or not handsome?” you asked leaning against your frame, so his jersey rid up slightly exposing the skin of your stomach. Pietro chucked his phone on the sofa before throwing you over his shoulder. That night you and Pietro had sex for the first time.

December 2012

Summer came and went in a blur of a heatwave, and lots of sex. You moved into your apartment off-campus, you spent a lot of time hanging out with Loki between classes, throwing ideas back and forth for an original piece you had to work on for the spring showcase. Pietro and you would always ride to games together, with Pietro being in his third year, the team bus rides were no longer compulsory and as the college couldn’t afford for the squad to have a bus you had to make your own way to the away games anyway. You and Pietro had driven home for Winter break, your family had decided to head to Boston this year, that way your cousin could see his family, however as you and Pietro had a game two days after New Years it didn’t make sense for you to fly out for such a short period off time. This was your first Christmas in years where you wouldn’t be seeing your family, or even celebrating really. However, Wanda and her Mum had insisted Pietro bring you home with him for the winter break. So that was how you found yourself sat in Pietro and Wanda’s basement drinking beer and hanging out with the old gang along with some new faces. Carol had brought home her girlfriend Valkyrie, Jane and Sam were there, even Peter Parker who was now a senior was there he’d even brought his girlfriend Gwen with him. Wanda had brought home her Boyfriend James or Vision as he was affectionately known. Wanda was studying Fashion in NYC; Vision was studying IT and was a whiz with technology. You were cuddled up in the corner of the sofa with Pietro, he was playing some game with Sam and Peter and you were scrolling through your IG feed. Taylor Swift’s latest Album Red playing through the speakers. Pietro had groaned but with Sam being a secret Swifty he was quickly outvoted. You kissed Pietro’s cheek getting up to grab another bottle of beer each. You were technically underage for another few months, but Wanda’s mum had said if you were going to drink whilst you were here, she’d rather you did it under her roof in a safe controlled manner.

You heard him before you saw him. Being the gracious guest you are, you had noticed the beer was low in the fridge, so you were restocking it when you heard Bucky’s familiar laugh. You may have made peace with what Bucky had done but other than a quick congratulations and farewell at Graduation you hadn’t spoken since that summer back in 2010.

Bucky walked over to the fridge, you had changed your hair colour since you’d last seen him at Graduation in 2011, your usual hair was now a chocolate brown, you had your head in the fridge still when he coughed. “Hi I’m Bucky,” he said. You took a deep breath, grabbed three bottles of beer and pulled your head out of the fridge, turning around to face him. “I’m well aware who you are, Bucky,” you said handing him a beer. Bucky’s eyes widened as his ocean blue eyes reached yours. “Hey Buck,” you said softly. “Y/N. I didn’t recognise you” he grinned, moving to hug you. You let it happen, standing stiffly in his arms. “Yeah it's been a minute, how’s school, and Natasha, I heard you got into UDM?” you asked shooting him a smile before twisting the lid of your bottle. “Yeah, I did. Schools great kicking my ass a bit and Natasha and I broke up actually” he said avoiding eye contact with you. You and Bucky made polite conversation for a few minutes Pietro finished up his game with Sam and Peter, noticed you hadn’t returned so made his way over to you and Bucky. “Hey Bunny,” he said kissing the corner of your head before wrapping his arms around you. “Hey Buck, long time no see!” Pietro said. Bucky stood frozen for a few seconds processing what he had just witnessed. “Hey, Pietro Yeah. It's been a hot minute, so you two are a couple? You guys look cute congrats. Oh man, wow is that Peter over there? I barely recognise him I’m going to go say hey. Catch you guys later!” Bucky said practically running over to Peter. You turned around and kissed Pietro. “Come on Quicksilver, let’s see if I can beat you at Mario Kart,” you said pulling him over to the sofa.

December 2012 – August 2014

Winter break came and went. Your second year at Uni whizzed past. Pietro even joined you and your family for your annual summer vacation in Miami, your grandparents were getting on a bit so you decided to skip the summer production of Hairspray. By the time, your third year rolled around you and Pietro settled into a routine between school, studying, games and rehearsals you would steal kisses in the hallways, meet one another at classes with hot drinks, coffee for Pietro not that he needed a boost of energy and usually a hot chocolate for you. After football games, Pietro would drive you back to his apartment. If it were a rare free evening, you’d curl up with a movie at yours. Hanging onto the small moments of peace. You both knew Pietro was going to be moving to New York after he graduated. He’d been studying business and was going to start a fashion company with Wanda. You also both knew that long-distance wasn’t going to work, you’d been majoring in performing arts, but you had also been taking extra courses to help with a career in advertising as a backup. Saying your goodbyes to one another sucked ass. You and Pietro had left your annual Miami holiday a week early to spend a week in Florida visiting the Theme Parks, Wanda and Vision were also going to meet you there. Neither of you had grown up exceptionally wealthy, but Wanda and Pietro’s dad Max Eisenhardt had reached out to them a few years back and had insisted on paying for the four of you to have a group vacation. He had tried to convince Wanda and Pietro to book a holiday in Germany where he was living but they had refused. Pietro had already packed up his apartment and moved most of it back to his family home whilst you finished up school for the year. He had been staying with you for the summer before joining you on your vacation so when you headed to the airport it was time to say your goodbyes. “Be good Bunny, don’t cause too much mischief with Loki and stay in touch. I love you my little Bunny” he said wiping the tears from your eyes. You couldn’t say anything, so you just held him tight and cried.

Tagging the bestie @lannycleave because I have promised to write a sad Steve one as a way to punnish myself

Part 2

#bucky x reader #pietro x reader #avengers au #marvel #marvel au #avengers fanfiction #𝐦𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬𝟐𝐤 #bucky barnes fluff #pietro maximoff fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #pietro maximoff fanfiction #natasha x bucky

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pxedpiper · 4 years

Text

Horizon (15)

Plot Summary: Once a princess of a kingdom you loathed to call yours, you have somehow found yourself aboard a pirate ship, stuck on the ocean waves. Now you try to figure out how to escape them, but as you continue to journey with them, you find yourself wondering if you even want to.

Pairings: Ateez x Reader

Content Warnings: Mentions of death and sexual implications throughout the fic, nothing ever specified in detail

Previous / Masterlist / Next

A/N: It didn’t take me a month this time thank god, also i apologize for the likely very inaccurate battle, i did the best i could rip. Also i think i have finally settled on a boy for this fic and i’m certain the answer surprises NO ONE rip

Fighting with an enemy was different than training with San and Wooyoung. For one thing, while they certainly never went easy on you, you knew you were safe in their hands as they would never do anything to hurt you. You couldn’t say the same for Sweet’s men, who attacked you with the viciousness of a rabid dog, wanting nothing more than to kill you if they couldn’t bring you back alive. While it was certainly different, it wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle as your sword clashed with one of Sweet’s men’s. You managed to push him away from you using the sword as you then turned to fight someone else who was trying to sneak up on you, Yunho taking over fighting the other one. For the most part, you stayed on the defensive side, not wanting to attack unless prompted, and tried your best not to get too scratched up to the point you couldn’t fight.

Looking around quickly, you spotted Yeosang fighting alone, quickly making your way to his side without letting your guard up, “The others leave you on your own?”

“Or they figured I didn’t need help!” Yeosang tried to argue, but his point was proven wrong when someone tried to attack him from the side and you had to step in, disarming them and slashing at them so they wouldn’t be able to pick up the sword again.

“You were saying?” You raised an eyebrow before continuing to fight someone else, “Maybe leaving the medic to fend for themselves isn’t a good idea after all.”

“I have years of experience over you, thank you very much,” He huffed, though you could tell he wasn’t actually upset with your teasing, still continuing his own fight, “I assure you I’ve got everything handled over here, you just focus on yourself and make sure no one tries to pull anything shifty!”

“They’re pirates, they’re all trying to pull something shifty!” You yelled back, nonetheless listening to his request and making your way through the crowd of fighting pirates. From then on, it was the same as before, try to defend yourself while helping as many of the others as you could. You couldn’t tell how much time had passed since the battle began, it feeling like an eternity even though in reality it couldn’t have been more than at most an hour. You managed to not suffer from many major injuries so far, but you weren’t sure how much more you were willing to push your luck and try to tempt fate.

It was then that you managed to take a look at the enemy’s ship; you had stayed on The Utopia instead of going on board the other, and you were only now getting to see what was happening on the other side. You could see San and Wooyoung doing a decent job of keeping themselves safe, but when you went to see what was going on between Hongjoong and Sweet, you became worried. Hongjoong wasn’t fairing poorly by any means, but you could tell he was having trouble and you didn’t trust Sweet enough to not try to pull something unexpected, so you quickly made your way onto the other ship, fighting anyone who tried to block your way.

“(Y/N)?” Wooyoung shouted above the noise, “What are you doing here? I thought you stayed aboard The Utopia!”

“I have to help Hongjoong!” You yelled back, trying to fight your way through the crowd of pirates, “Cover for me while I try to get to him!”

“You’re insane!” He replied, but nonetheless did what you said with a grin on his face, “But you got it! I’ll keep them off you!”

“That’s all I need, thank you!” You exclaimed gratefully, focusing more on being able to get to Hongjoong now that you had Wooyoung backing you up. Unlike you, Wooyoung had no reservations about killing whoever got in your way, which might’ve normally made you uneasy, but at the time all you could think of was getting to Hongjoong as quickly as possible, so you paid it no mind. Ignoring the blood that inevitably stained your skin and clothes, you slowly made your way to where Hongjoong was still managing to fight off Sweet.

“This is where I’ll leave you, Princess! Do enjoy the rest of your first pirate battle!” Wooyoung practically sang out, giving you a cheeky bow and running away to fight someone else before you could yell at him for his princess comment. Ignoring Wooyoung’s ridiculousness, you took a deep breath and pulled out your pistol, purposely aiming it to just barely miss Sweet’s head as you shot to gain his attention.

“Hey, Sweet!” You yelled, keeping his attention on you, “It’s me you want, isn’t it? Then come and catch me!” Taking off in a run, you don’t miss Sweet’s wicked smile as he begins to chase after you, nor do you pay much attention to Hongjoong’s shout of, “No, (Y/N), what are you doing?!” Focusing only on making sure Sweet stayed away from Hongjoong, you dashed your way across the ship, it’s layout much different from The Utopia’s, dodging other pirate attacks as you went.

“You’ve truly become so brave, little bird, challenging me yourself!” You could hear his gruff voice yell out in what almost sounded like glee, “But I’m afraid you’ve found yourself a little in over your head! Do you really think you, a delicate little princess, could ever match up to me, a pirate captain years your senior? You may have the look of a pirate now, but your place is in a castle, not a battlefield! Sorry to-!” He was cut off by you slashing at him, managing to give him a cut to the chest, nothing too deep to deter him, but enough to leave him shocked.

“My place,” You began slowly, “is wherever I choose it to be. And I choose my place to be on The Utopia, to be with the others. My place is to be with Hongjoong. My place is to be free. And you can’t take that away from me!” You slashed again, catching him in the arm this time, but Sweet finally gained his bearings enough to fight back, you just barely managing to dodge his counter attack before he would’ve rendered your arm useless.

“This little bird’s learned to put some bite behind her chirp, I see,” He taunted, but you could tell he was no longer playing any games, “That’s fine, then. You want to be a pirate so badly? Then you’ll die as one along with the little crew you care so much for!” He made to attack again, but you quickly dodged again, using the chaos around you to your advantage as you ducked into one of the rooms, Sweet getting caught up in the crowd. You knew it wouldn’t be long until he found you, but you paid it no mind as you took in your surroundings, seemingly to have run into the dinning hall of sorts. Finding nothing you could use as a weapon, you hid yourself behind a pile of barrels, making sure that you were completely hidden before Sweet burst into the room, looking around like a man on a mission.

“Oh, come on now, little bird~,” His voice rang out in what almost sounded like a song that made your skin crawl, “You can’t hide from me! This is my ship you’re on now, not that foolish Pirate King’s! I know every nook and cranny of every room, there isn’t anywhere you can go where I won’t find you!” Moving around the room, you could see his back turn to you and as silently as you could, you went to strike again, but he quickly turned around and blocked your attack, classic wicked smile upon his face, “Ah, there you are, little bird~!” Pushing you back, he managed to quickly disarm you, your sword clattering to the ground feet away from you. Thinking he had you cornered, he made to attack again but was quickly stopped by you pulling out your dagger, blocking his sword from hitting you anywhere vital.

“Learned some new tricks, have you?” He questioned, raising an eyebrow in amusement.

“You don’t know half of what I’ve learned,” You responded, making a move to fight again. It was now close combat vs ranged fighting, and you could tell Sweet was having more difficulty than expected, though by no means was he was losing the fight. You were too speedy for him to catch, and your small size compared to his made it easy for you to be able to evade his attacks as well as make it more difficult for him to avoid yours.

“You know,” You started, not letting up in any of your attacks, “I was terrified of you when we met. I was exactly what you said, a delicate little princess with no defense whatsoever, the perfect victim for someone like you. You scared me so much, that when people actually reached out to help me, I acted terrible to them, because I thought they were just like you. A despicable, disgusting, vile monster of what couldn’t even be called a man, who would trade and sell people at an instant if it meant getting what he wanted. But, I learned. I learned, and I grew, both in strength and mind, into something much stronger than what you ever expected me to be. I’m not your little bird anymore, Sweet, I’m much, much more powerful than that!” From there, you managed to slice his face open, blood instantly pouring from the wound, making him pause in his steps for a moment, silence filling the room. But, just as you thought that maybe you had gotten him better than you thought, he began to laugh, the sound filling the room in the evilest way.

“Well, well, you certainly have gotten bolder,” He said, his voice filled with merciless joy as he looked at you, his bloody face making him look all the more terrifying, “But I’m afraid it’s not enough to save you, Princess. The time for games is over, no more fooling around!” From there, he moved quickly, quicker than you had time to comprehend, before pinning you to the ground, his sword pointed at your throat, “I had hoped to have a bit more fun with you before killing you, maybe kill the others first and letting you watch, but clearly, you need to be dealt with immediately. Hope your Pirate King won’t cry too much at seeing your mangled corpse-!”

“The only thing he’ll be seeing is the look you’ll give as the light of life finally leaves your eyes,” Another voice called out, the both of you turning your heads to see who it was.

“Hongjoong!” You exclaimed in relief, glad to see the face of your captain, even though his usual smile was missing from his face, anger clear in his expression.

“Ah, come to save your little whore, have you?” Sweet grinned, his teasing attitude returning, “What, was the sex that good that you’d gotten attached?”

“You don’t talk about her that way,” Hongjoong growled, having finally had enough of Sweet’s baiting, “And you don’t get to lie on top her like that. Get up, Sweet, and fight me like a true man. You wanted a fight with me, come and get it!”

“I thought you’d never ask!” Sweet cackled, getting off you and rushing at Hongjoong, who easily blocked his attack, grabbing onto your dagger which had fallen from your grasp. Quickly, you rolled off your back, standing back up and looking for your sword to try to join him.

“Don’t move, just stay there!” Hongjoong ordered, not taking his eye off Sweet, blocking another one of his attacks before quickly countering with his own.

“I can help!” You argued.

“I’d rather you just stay safe! It’s too much of a mess out there, the closer you are to me, the better!” He managed to get out between movements, the battle with Sweet becoming more intense. Leaving you with little to no choice or room to argue, you watched as Hongjoong fought against Sweet once more. You weren’t sure what it was, but for whatever reason, whatever was holding Hongjoong back before was gone now, him having no difficulty in keeping up with Sweet’s moves and even confounding the brute with his own. What got you most was the look on his face, every time you had seen him deal with Sweet before, he’d have a cold and calculating look, maybe annoyed if Sweet tried him enough. But here, he just looked outright furious, as if he’d hated Sweet more that he could ever hate anyone before. You’d never seen him this angry before, and you couldn’t think of what could have possibly caused it, but you weren’t about to complain, because he was winning. Whatever had angered Hongjoong, it was apparently exactly what he needed, as the battle continued on, Sweet reaching near the end of his limit. While you were upset that you couldn’t help, it was very apparent that your help wasn’t needed, and you just watched as Hongjoong finally managed to disarm him, cornering him against the wall.

“Well, Sweet,” Hongjoong stated, his voice filled with cold hatred, “Here we are. It seems I am the better of the two of us after all. I told you, you could never be the Pirate King.”

“Yes, it does seem to be the case,” Sweet chuckled, this time his voice filled with defeat rather than amusement, “Now, go ahead and finish the job. Kill me.”

Hongjoong was silent for a moment before saying, “No. That’s not for me to decide.”

“It’s not?” Sweet raised an eyebrow.

“It’s not?” You echoed softly, confused at Hongjoong’s meaning.

“It’s not,” He confirmed, before walking over to you, “It’s hers.” He held out your dagger to you, giving you the choice of how you wanted to end this.

“Me?” You questioned, looking at him worriedly, “Hongjoong, I don’t-!”

“You’re the one who’s been hurt the most by Sweet and is the most at risk if your parents find out where you are,” He cut you off, explaining his actions to you, “It’s only fitting that you decide the final fate of this monster. Whatever you choose, I will respect, I swear to you as your captain. But the choice is yours.” Slowly, you reached out and gripped your dagger, your mind racing as you walked in front of Sweet, looking the most pathetic as you had ever seen him.

“Well, isn’t this a sight? The little bird’s about to take her first life. It’s a momentous occasion, better remember it well,” He spoke, not giving up his teasing nature even in defeat.

You stood there, making no move to strike yet, instead saying, “When we met, I was certain you were going to kill me and everyone on board that damn ship. You had all the power in the world, and I was just going to be another victim to another ruthless pirate. But now, things have switched around, haven’t they? Now I’m the one with the power, and you’re the one who’s in danger of dying, and I bet you hate that, don’t you? You hate the fact that you were beaten, not only by someone younger than you, but the fact that the person who’ll kill you is a ‘delicate little girl’ who grew up in a palace rather than on the sea. That’s what people will know you for, they won’t know you as some feared pirate, they’ll know you as the weakling who got killed by a princess.”

“Save the speech, little bird, and be done with it. Davy Jones waits for no man, after all,” Sweet replied, merely closing his eyes as you raised your arms, poised to strike. You took deep breaths, trying to calm down enough to be able to swing down, but looking at him was making you faulter. Your mind was racing, recalling every word that San and Hongjoong had told you:

“Sooner or later you’re going to have to kill someone. It’s inevitable.”

“If at any point your life is in danger, you can’t hesitate to kill, alright?”

Your head swirling, you raised your dagger even higher before finally swinging down, a shout leaving your throat as you shut your eyes. Silence filled the room, no one making a sound as time seemed to stand still.

But then, “What?” You opened your eyes to look into the beady, but confused eyes of Elias Sweet, very much alive still. Your dagger had struck the wooden wall next to his head, an inch away from his eternal doom. “Why?” He demanded, “Why are you leaving me alive?!”

“Because,” You started, “As much of a monster you are, you’re still human. And maybe I am still that delicate little girl, because I just can’t bring myself to take another human’s life. Besides, if you die, you don’t suffer, but if you live, you have to live with the reputation that the only reason you’re alive, is because a woman weaker than you spared your life. I think that’s a more fitting punishment, don’t you?” You turned to Hongjoong, giving him a nod, “Let’s go.” Nodding back at you, you both turned to leave, barely making it a few steps before you heard a shout from behind you.

Sweet, finally at his limit, had dislodged your dagger from where it was stuck in the wall, and charged at you while you weren’t looking, holding you in a lock as your own dagger was at your throat. Caught off guard, you were paralyzed as you looked at Hongjoong in shock and fear, thinking for a second this was truly how were going to die. You shouldn’t have worried, however, as the second he grabbed you and made to speak, Hongjoong turned around and quickly shot him in the head with his gun, not letting him get a word in before he dropped onto the floor, finally dead. Still in shock, you took a step forward and buckled, Hongjoong quickly catching you before you fell onto the floor.

“Is-Is he-?” You stammered, your mind racing again as you tried to process the events that just took place.

“He’s dead,” Hongjoong confirmed, brushing your hair back from your face, “I’m sorry I didn’t do as what you wanted, but he broke the deal, he wasn’t supposed to attack you after he lost, and if I didn’t, he was going to kill you, so-!” He was cut off by you burying your face in his chest, the severity of the situation starting to finally set in.

“I couldn’t do it, Hongjoong,” You cried out, “I know you said to kill if necessary, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it, I just couldn’t!”

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” He replied, holding you close to him as he rubbed your back comfortingly, “I’m sorry you had to witness that, but he’s gone now. He’s dead, and he can’t bother you anymore. I just wish you had stayed on The Utopia where it’s safer, that way he wouldn’t have gone after you and you wouldn’t be covered in blood.”

“It’s not mine, mostly,” You sniffled, looking up at him, “Most of it’s from Wooyoung making a way for me to get to you. I’m alright, aside from a couple hits, but shouldn’t be anything Yeosang can’t handle.”

“Still, the sight of him on top of you while you looked entirely bloody… I’ll always hate the image of it,” He scowled before giving you a soft smile, taking your hand, “Now, let’s go back, shall we? Let’s go back home.” Home. It was only a ship away, but the thought of it still warmed your heart.

You returned the smile, grasping onto his hand tightly, “Let’s.”

#ateez pirate au #ateez fanfic #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfiction #ateez imagines #hongjoong fanfic #seonghwa fanfic #yunho fanfic #yeosang fanfic #san fanfic #mingi fanfic #wooyoung fanfic #Jongho fanfic

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rmnamjoons · 5 years

Text

Castaways [KNJ Oneshot]

➳ summary: You’ve always hated the ocean. Open water terrifies you, and you stay as far away from it as possible for self-preservation and peace of mind. Despite this, your friend somehow convinces you to go on a luxury cruise with her, her boyfriend Hoseok, and Hoseok’s nerdy friend Namjoon, who’s almost cute enough to distract you from your debilitating fears. When a sudden storm hits, however, you and Namjoon are swept overboard and find yourselves castaway on a desert island somewhere in the vast South Pacific.

➳ pairing: Namjoon x reader

➳ genre: smut with plot, slow burn, fluff, a pinch of angst, and a happy ending

➳ word count: 25.5k (this is a completed oneshot)

➳ tags: so much teasing, non-completed foot job in public, sensual massages, cuddling for warmth, nursing ur loved one back to health, relying on each other, face-riding, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, breathplay, cumplay, biting, rough sex, sweet gentle loving sex, fucking in water, sex outside, a small hint of a daddy kink, so much dirty talk, like 6k of this is just dirty talk

[read on ao3]

➳ a/n: Though I do try to make this somewhat realistic, this isn’t at all meant to be some dark, gritty tale of survival. They’re super lucky in their circumstances and everything is fine. This is basically just two people fuckin' a bunch on an island. Bon appétit.

➳ warning: This story contains graphic descriptions of almost drowning, having a panic attack in a terrifying situation (y/n is afraid of open water and they’re swept overboard during a storm without even life jackets), and dehydration symptoms including vomiting. They find an island with freshwater and everything is fine and peachy pretty quickly if you can make it through the rough stuff. I had to make it at least like 15% realistic, guys.

You fucking hated the ocean.

Like, ponds were okay. Streams? Great. Swimming pools, ideal. Rivers and lakes were fine, you guessed. It was the ocean that you hated and were downright terrified of on a pathological level. You had no idea what was down there, you didn’t know how deep it went. Reading about it made you want to throw up. Being out in open water you knew was deeper than five feet made you panicked and anxious and sweaty. You just couldn’t do it.

You had agreed to go on a cruise with your best friend Mina because she loved the ocean, for some fucking reason. When you’d gone on your senior trip back in high school together, you’d compromised: high school senior trip you’d go to New York for you, and college senior trip you’d go on a cruise for Mina. A selfish, immature part of you had figured you probably wouldn’t even be friends that far in the future, because that’s what happened when people went to college. People naturally drifted apart as they grew. You’d also figured that Mina would forget or find a new thing to fixate on. Maybe in four years she’d really love London or Bali or the desert and not the fucking ocean.

Instead, you’d remained close friends that whole time, and Mina still loved the sea. She’d majored in marine biology and spent most of her time down by the bay, where she met her lifeguard boyfriend Hoseok, a ray of sunshine, just like Mina. You had no way of knowing for sure, but for some reason you were willing to bet money the two of them had done some kind of mermaid sex fantasy roleplay before, as cheesy as they were and as much as the two of them loved the ocean.

You and Mina both finished your undergrads and then boom, just like that, you found yourself on your way to Sydney, Australia for the “South Pacific Grand Adventure,” just like you’d promised Mina four years ago. You distinctly remembered never ever promising to a fucking three week cruise, but, as always, you couldn’t say no to Mina.

Hoseok and his friend, a man you didn’t know, had been invited to come along as well. Once you knew she wouldn’t be by herself, you’d debated faking a serious injury or illness, but Mina was onto your tricks and dragged you along, insisting you’d have a good time once you were there and that you’d probably forget you were even on a ship.

Hoseok’s friend, a tall man with thick glasses and a backpack full of paperback novels, seemed to be as equally thrilled to be here as you were. Mina had introduced him as “Joon,” and he’d quickly corrected her, pushing his glasses up his nose and saying that his name was Namjoon, thank you very much. You noticed the way he grimaced when Hoseok and Mina openly made out on the too-long plane ride and how he rolled his eyes when they called each other over-the-top cutesy pet names. Namjoon seemed much more willing to show his distaste for the happy couple’s antics than you were, and you were now debating taking a page from his book.

You and Namjoon ended up stuck together pretty quickly, and you both seemed to realize that at the same moment, sitting beside each other in silence on the shuttle bus heading over to the port, while Mina and Hoseok sat together a few rows away, baby-talking to each other and cuddling and giggling. They were the only people on the bus making any noise this early in the morning, and they seemed not to notice that fact.

It was going to be a long cruise.

You’d had to wake up entirely too damn early to get on this bus, you were jet-lagged to shit, and the moment you saw the harbor and the cruise ship there waiting for you, you just knew you were going to very deeply regret this. The only solace you had was that Namjoon was stuck here with you. Maybe you could at least come out of this with a new sarcastic friend.

The four of you got off the shuttle and went up the ramp onto the massive cruise ship, and checked in at one of the front desks. You attempted to pretend this was just a normal hotel and was not going to take you out into the middle of nowhere in the awful ocean.

Mina did all the talking during the check-in process, Hoseok right by her side with his arm around her. You and Namjoon hung back with all the luggage, and you kept catching yourself staring at him and having to force yourself to look away.

Namjoon was tall, his messy dark hair sticking out from under a backwards baseball cap, his black thick-rimmed glasses slightly crooked on his deceptively cute button nose. He crossed his arms, his muscles there making you bite your lip, and you figured he was a man of contradictions. He was nerdy and kind of awkward, but was absolutely jacked, his chest nearly bulging out of his shirt. He had a cute, seemingly innocent face, but his resting expression seemed to be rolling his eyes at Mina and Hoseok’s expense. You decided you liked him.

After getting the keys to the rooms, the four of you went down and dropped your luggage off and then went to grab some lunch in one of the ship’s restaurants, and on the way there you only thought about jumping off the ship into the harbor and swimming back to Sydney once.

Hoseok and Mina sat beside each other and kept giggling and touching their foreheads together and cuddling, even giving each other a few quick kisses as they grinned at each other. Across the table, you and Namjoon sat there, just watching the two of them. Mina and Hoseok were lost in their own little world, while the two of you sat in an awkward silence, too embarrassed to say anything to your friends or each other. You mostly stared at your phone or the table in front of you, while Namjoon seemed very fascinated by a painting on the wall across the room. The waitress showed up and you ordered a mixed drink, figuring the only way you were going to make it through this trip was if you were highly intoxicated for most of it.

As you sat there during the course of the meal, you watched Namjoon’s reactions to different things Mina and Hoseok did as he leaned back into the corner of the booth, sprawling out, one arm across the back of the booth behind you. The two of them nuzzled their noses together, and Namjoon rolled his eyes. Mina leaned her head on Hoseok’s shoulder and snuggled in, and Namjoon tilted his head back, his tongue sticking out to the side and eyes rolled back in his head as he silently pretended to keel over and die. Everything the two of them did with each other, Namjoon reacted to it in some quiet passive aggressive way, mostly to amuse himself, but definitely amusing you.

Halfway through the meal, he realized you were watching him and silently giggling. When Mina and Hoseok started baby-talking and feeding each other, Namjoon looked at you with wide eyes and bit his lip, his body almost shaking as he tried so hard not to laugh at them. You put your hand up and hid your face, turning toward Namjoon so he could see you trying to hold in your laughter, too.

So far, Namjoon was more than making this trip bearable. He was turning out to be the best part.

***

Two days at sea passed. The ship was headed to New Caledonia and was set to get there the following morning, where you would have almost a full day to explore the port town of Noumea. After that, you’d be heading deeper into the South Pacific toward Fiji, another two days out on the open sea. On the map, it all looked so close together, but you saw at one point that it was over twelve hundred miles just from Sydney to Noumea. You tried not to think about it.

The next morning, you’d be on land again in Noumea, at least for a few hours. You just had to last until then, and then you’d have a brief break from the ocean. You tried to stop yourself from wondering if New Caledonia had an airport that could get you back to Sydney, where you could just hang out until Mina finished her cruise.

That being said, you actually weren’t having too awful a time, you had to admit. The ship was nice and had a lot of fun stuff to do, and Mina wasn’t spending every second of her time with Hoseok.

You did spend most of your time with Namjoon, though. You knew you were definitely attracted to him, and you’d caught him looking at you enough times to wonder if he was attracted too. He was so funny, and you’d grown to find his nerdiness endearing, and good lord did that man have muscles. You wondered more than once where on earth a little bookworm like him got a chest and arms like that. Every time he awkwardly pushed his glasses up his nose, his muscles in his arms bulged under his shirt. When he lounged on the ship’s deck reading yet another one of his novels, which he seemed to go through one of a day, you just stared at his thick thighs, imagining yourself riding them.

You learned a few things about Namjoon very quickly, the first being that he was very awkward and shy around new people. With everyone, from you at first to waiters to the random women who tried to flirt with him at the pool bar, he couldn’t look them in the eye and stumbled over his words, not knowing what to say when someone attempted to have a simple conversation with him. The man was terrible at small talk, though you could tell he was really trying his best. You’d tried so hard not to laugh at him on the first night at dinner when the captain came around to all the tables and introduced himself, and Namjoon had stuck out his hand for a handshake and the captain didn’t see him at all, and Namjoon had just sat there with his hand out for a few seconds until he dropped his hand to his lap, looking like a sad little kicked puppy.

The second thing you learned about Namjoon was that once he was comfortable around someone, he was a sarcastic, flirty tease, and this seemed doubly true for his interactions with you. At lunch on the second day, he’d taken a sip of your drink without asking, and when you’d turned and caught him, he’d just smiled at you smugly and winked, your straw still in his mouth. He’d then offered you a bite of what he’d ordered, holding up a piece of food on his fork, and when you’d opened your mouth and leaned in, he’d smeared it all over your cheek, apologizing profusely and insisting it had been a complete accident while smirking to himself the entire time. Underneath his shy awkward nerd exterior, he was all teasing and winks and sarcasm.

You dished it right back to him when you could. You’d stolen his book when he’d gotten up to get a drink at the pool, just for him to come back and see you reading it and refusing to give it back to him. You’d rubbed a bite of your dessert on his nose after offering him some at dinner. His eyes always lit up when you teased him right back, and with Mina all but ignoring you, Namjoon was proving to not only be your perfect distraction from the ocean, but a wonderful way of entertaining yourself on the ship.

It was now the third day, and you and Namjoon went to the pool together while Mina and Hoseok did some expensive couple’s massage all afternoon. As you walked out onto the pool deck together, you caught yourself staring at him yet again. Namjoon was shirtless, his swim trunks obscenely low on his hips, his chest so large, his big arms defined so beautifully. You were nearly drooling by the time the two of you found two lounge chairs together in a nice spot.

You had an idea for how to get some more attention from him, and you decided now was the perfect time to begin your plan.

“Joon? Will you do me a big favor, pretty please?” you asked, overly fake-sweet, as the two of you sat down and settled in. He’d unsurprisingly brought a book and was already laying down and opening it, but he tilted his head to look at you.

“What do you want?” he said, matching your sarcastically sweet tone.

“Will you put some sunscreen on me?”

“What, like on your back?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at you.

“All over me,” you said. “I don’t want to get sunscreen on my hands.”

“Neither do I,” he protested, pouting. “I’m the one reading a book, with paper. Do it yourself.”

“Ugh,” you huffed as you sat up. You reached into your bag and pulled out your sunscreen. “Please?” You made your voice higher and more feminine, almost a moan as you pouted and begged, holding out the sunscreen and batting your eyelashes at him when he looked over at you.

“Why can’t you do it?” he said flatly, pushing his glasses up his nose.

“I told you,” you said, “I don’t want to get sunscreen on my hands. I hate that feeling.” That was partially true. You were much more focused on the prospect of Namjoon’s big strong hands rubbing sunscreen all over your almost naked body, covered only by the skimpiest little bikini you’d brought on the trip.

“Fine,” he said, grumbling as he set his book down on the little table between you. “Where do you want it?”

“On my skin,” you said, smiling up at him innocently as you leaned back, reclining lazily in the lounge chair, your body on full display as you put your sunglasses on.

“But of course, your highness,” he said, sarcastically over-serious as he opened the bottle and squeezed a bunch of the sunscreen out onto his hand. “How could I not have known that?”

Whatever you were going to say was cut off by him suddenly smacking his hand down on your stomach, the cold sunscreen splattering out equally as surprising as his sudden movement. You gasped, squeaking in surprise, and Namjoon smiled to himself as he started moving his hand.

"Oh, I’m so sorry. Did I surprise you?” he deadpanned, spreading the sunscreen out across your skin.

“Not at all, Joonie,” you replied, relaxing under his touch. As sarcastic as he’d been, he was actually being normal about it now, sitting beside you on your chair as you laid back and let him touch you. He was also letting you get away with calling him “Joon” or “Joonie” lately, not correcting you or even reacting most of the time.

Namjoon was gentle yet firm, the cold sunscreen contrasting the warmth of his large hands so wonderfully it made goosebumps spread across your skin. You took in a deep breath and held it as you felt the tips of his long fingers slowly skim along the bottom of your bikini top, just barely going under the fabric and teasing the underside of your breasts as he rubbed the sunscreen in across your ribs. You sighed as he moved down your stomach to oh-so-gently massage your hipbones and navel, running his tips of his thumbs under the waistline of your bottoms just enough to make you raise an eyebrow at him.

He noticed your questioning look and smirked, moving back up to more neutral ground on your sides and massaging there instead.

“That feels good, Joon,” you murmured, relaxing again under his touch, and you noticed the way Namjoon slowly looked up at your face at your words, his lips parting as his eyes drug up and back down your body, drinking in the sight before him.

After getting more sunscreen on his hands, Namjoon started on your legs, touching you slowly and firmly, spreading his fingers out as he moved across your inner thighs. Your eyes nearly rolled back in your head, and you were thankful you were wearing sunglasses so he couldn’t see that. You wondered for a split second how much trouble the two of you would get if he fingered you right here on the pool deck in front of all these people.

Namjoon moved up to the top of your chest, spreading the lotion out there, and then up to your neck, where he stopped for a moment, his palm over your throat. You held your breath as his hand just rested there, and you knew he had to be able to feel how fast your heart was racing. He squeezed so gently, barely at all, and your breath caught in your throat, not from the tightness of his squeeze but from the intimacy and dirtiness of this moment. There were so many people around. All he’d have to do was squeeze a little harder. You were dripping wet for him, biting your lip and struggling to keep your eyes open. And then Namjoon moved his hand like he was rubbing in the sunscreen there completely innocently, stroking up and down your throat and then across your shoulders, returning to normal.

Namjoon moved back down to your legs. He put it on your inner thighs for the second time, and you noticed that but said nothing. You spread your legs just slightly, giving him easier access, and you could almost hear the small moan that escaped his lips when he touched the stitching of your bikini between your thighs.

He growled at you to roll over, a noise that went straight to your already throbbing core, and when you complied, he spread the cold sunscreen there, even pausing to carefully untie your bikini straps so he could cover your back fully. His massage was rough and thorough, rocking your body slightly with each of his movements. You almost moaned out loud, feeling his fingers digging into your flesh as he kneaded and spread out more sunscreen.

Namjoon used both hands on the backs of your thighs, dipping just his fingertips into the back of your swimsuit bottoms as he stood over you, stopping just before he was fully grabbing your ass with both hands under the fabric.

When he finished, Namjoon wiped his hands on his knees and then carefully tied your bikini back together. Before he even sat down, you jumped up and grabbed the bottle of sunscreen from his hands.

“Your turn,” you said, throwing your sunglasses down onto your chair. Namjoon’s eyes were dark, glinting with desire, and he immediately leaned back in his chair, ready for whatever you were going to do to him.

You straddled him, pouring sunscreen directly onto his tanned chest, making him hiss from the surprise of the cold liquid. He held you by the backs of your thighs as you rubbed it in with both hands slowly on his hot skin, feeling his muscles forcefully, spreading out your fingers. Namjoon didn’t take his eyes off of you the whole time, his jaw set as he watched you so intently. You felt his firm chest, his strong shoulders, his tight muscles, his large body seeming even bigger under your small hands. The whole time you worked, his chest steadily rose and fell, his breathing thick as he watched you with hooded eyes, his pupils blown.

You made him roll over. As you rubbed his back, you sat gently on his ass, still straddling him. You reveled in the feeling of massaging the cool liquid all over his warm skin, and you swore you felt him almost groan at one point when you really dug your palms into his lower back.

When you finished, you got up, smiling down proudly at him.

“There,” you said. “Now neither of us will get sunburnt.”

“That’s good. Skin care is important,” he said, rolling over slowly onto his back once again. You hadn’t touched him there, but somehow his hair looked ruffled and slightly messier than normal, his eyes almost satisfied, as if the two of you had just finished something much less innocent.

You could feel him staring at you intensely as you bent over, putting your sunscreen back in you bag. You bent at the waist and faced away from him, giving him the perfect view of what he wanted.

“I’m going to get a drink,” you said when you stood back up. You looked over your shoulder at him. “Do you wanna come?”

He blinked a few times, staring at you like you weren’t speaking a language he knew.

“Yeah. Yes,” he said when it finally processed. He stood up and followed close behind as you took his hand and led the way over to the bar.

While the two of you ordered, he stood close behind you, moving with you when you stepped off to the side to wait for your drinks. When you accidentally took too quick of a step back, partially bumping into him, you felt him through his swim trunks and realized that he was attempting to hide the fact he had a semi.

You definitely weren’t thinking about the ocean right now.

***

When you got dressed for dinner that evening, you picked out your skimpiest little dress, ready to taunt and torture Namjoon. You knew that packing your stockings, garters, and suspenders was a good idea, and you hoped Namjoon would potentially get to see them tonight if all went well. When packing, you’d anticipated a potential one-night stand with a crewman or fellow passenger, but this situation with Namjoon was far better than anything you’d imagined. You were sharing a room with Mina, but maybe you and Namjoon could sneak off together to some deserted part of the ship and he could fuck you against a wall, or something else equally sexy, passionate, and depraved.

Mina and Hoseok were meeting you at dinner and had already left, and Namjoon had texted you earlier, asking if you wanted to head down together. He came to your room to pick you up, and, when you opened the door, you grinned when Namjoon’s gaze immediately fell to your chest, his eyes wide. He quickly looked back up at your face, blinking in surprise as if shocked he’d let himself do that so openly. His cheeks were bright red, his lips parted as he tried to say something but couldn’t. He was so thoroughly flustered, and you stepped out of your room, brushing past him and knowing he’d follow.

You walked ahead of him down the hallway, accentuating your hips as you walked. You could practically feel that filthy boy’s eyes glued to your ass. This was going even better than you’d anticipated. Maybe he’d snap and fuck you against a wall before you even got to dinner.

You eventually found Mina and Hoseok, and the four of you sat together in a small booth near the center of the busy dining room. Waiters buzzed around like honeybees, and every last passenger on the ship seemed to all be here in this grand room. It was lively and exciting, a live band playing on the second floor and the kitchen staff loudly preparing course after course in the next room. If you were to look up, you would’ve noticed the chandelier swaying oh-so-slightly from the waves outside, nearly undetectable here in the belly of the ship.

You sat across the table from Namjoon. Part of the way through the meal, you decided to play with him some more and slipped off one of your heels. You continued eating normally, not letting your face or upper body show any signs of what you were doing.

You moved your foot up the inner side of one of his legs, feeling him jump only slightly when he first felt you. Your foot traveled farther and farther up until you were at his crotch, slowly moving the heel of your foot so that you pressed against him, teasing in a slow, circular rhythm.

You didn’t look up at Namjoon, but you felt him grab you by your ankle and squeeze. You cracked a small smile and tried to keep moving your foot despite his grip, and you could already feel him growing hard. He didn’t move or push your foot away. He held you right there in place, biting his lip as he moved forward in his seat, pressing his chest against the table as if he were simply sitting up eagerly.

“What did you two do this afternoon?” Mina asked politely, smiling at the two of you.

“Just hung out, mostly,” you said. You glanced up at Namjoon and saw his cheeks flushed red, nostrils flared, and you kept slowly moving your foot against him as he held your ankle. “Joon did some reading and I tanned.”

“It’s Namjoon,” he said, his voice deeper than normal, and when you looked up at him he was glaring, leering at you, eyes dark under those thick glasses you’d grown to adore. Mina and Hoseok seemed not to notice Namjoon’s suffering.

You smiled at Namjoon politely. You took a slow sip of your drink before speaking, maintaining eye contact with him the whole time.

“How could I forget? Namjoon,” you said, tasting his name on your tongue as if for the first time. You stroked him through his pants with your foot faster now, and you could almost see how fast his heart was racing in the veins in his neck and forehead. He was squeezing your ankle so tight you felt like you were losing circulation there, but you kept going.

Namjoon suddenly stood up, dropping your foot and turning away from the table and walking away as fast as he could, not looking back. Mina and Hoseok both looked confused, turning and watching him as he left, asking where he was going.

You slipped your shoe back on and excused yourself, saying you’d check on him, and quickly followed him outside.

Namjoon wasn’t hard to find. He stood out in the hallway, facing away from you when you walked out, arms crossed. You were in your own private little part of the ship, right near a balcony and where nobody could see or walk in on the two of you talking.

Before you could say anything, Namjoon turned around and looked at you.

“How would you like it if I just touched you like that while we’re in public, around all those people?” he said, glaring at you.

“Do you not like it?” you asked seriously, watching the way he set his jaw and looked away. Behind him, you could see out a large window that the sky was darker than it should be at this time. You could feel the sway of the ship way more than usual, but Namjoon’s distress pulled you back and made you focus on him.

Namjoon sighed before speaking. “You’re playing games with me,” he said, his voice deep and gravely. He shook his head like he was disappointed, but you saw how he looked back at you, his eyes falling to your legs and how short your skimpy little dress was.

“Do you not like games?” you asked, tilting your head and smiling now. He stared at you for a moment, his eyes now lingering on your mouth.

“I don’t think I like being played with,” he said, not taking his eyes off your parted lips. He watched you lick your lips slowly, and you swore you almost heard him growling.

“Well that’s a pity,” you cooed. “Because I love playing with you.”

Namjoon sighed, turning away from you and running a hand through his hair. “Fuck,” he mumbled, mostly to himself, and he walked out of the hallway away from you and out onto the deck.

You followed as he went out onto the balcony to get some air, both of you still under the large overhang. You froze in the open doorway, though, eyes wide and horrified as you looked out at the ocean, finally seeing the full scale of the situation.

Rain poured down as the dark waves churned and threw themselves against the ship, the angry water covered in white caps and sea foam. The sky was black, the roar of the wind and rain near deafening. The humidity out here was suffocating, even as you still stood in the doorway. You’d barely noticed it before, but now that you were paying attention and away from the center of the large ship, the vessel was rocking with the waves, your stomach lurching with it. You grabbed onto the doorframe, holding on for dear life.

“When did it start storming?” you said distantly, eyes wide as you stared out at the large, dark swells in the water.

“I don’t know. While we were eating,” Namjoon said. “Jeesh, it’s really coming down. It must’ve started up in just the last ten minutes or so. It was so nice this afternoon.” He continued talking about something, but you didn’t listen. Instead, you braced yourself there on the doorframe, eyes wide as you stared out at the water, feeling only the ship rocking side to side. The rocking wasn’t even that bad and you were both more than ten feet from the railing, but even being exposed to the outside air just this much was overwhelming.

You needed to get out of here. So many people had told you that you could barely feel the intense waves of a storm when you were in the middle of a ship, so you just needed to turn around and go back to your room. You heard an announcement on the ship’s broadcast system vaguely in the distance, but couldn’t hear what they were saying over the wind, rain, and the pounding in your ears. Beside you, Namjoon seemed to finally notice how you were reacting.

“Hey, are you okay?” he said, resting a hand on your shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” you said, voice cracking, not looking up at him. You were pretty sure you were going to throw up. After a few seconds of Namjoon not saying anything, you spoke again, now trying not to hyperventilate. “Okay, I’m really really afraid of the ocean, and right now is like my worst nightmare, and I think I might pass out.”

“You’re afraid of the ocean?” he said in disbelief. “What the hell are you doing on a three week cruise?” When you didn’t respond, Namjoon moved so that both hands rested on your shoulders gently, grounding you. “Is there anything I can do?” he asked, his voice much softer as he tilted his head to look at you better.

You didn’t answer. The ship swayed and rocked with the harsh waves, and you tried to get used to it, swaying with it. Instead you just felt sicker. You knew it was near impossible, but you felt like the ship was going to flip over or break in half, and it kept getting worse by the second, the rain only coming down harder and harder. Lightning cracked and thunder immediately followed, making the whole ship rumble.

You needed to get out of here. You needed to go lay down in comfy pajamas and listen to music and not concentrate on the ship rocking and the sound of rain and thunder and huge waves. You needed to forget you were on a ship.

You stepped away from the doorframe, and Namjoon stepped back from you, giving you space.

The ship suddenly jerked side to side exactly three times as huge rogue waves hit it on each side, tossing it around like it was nothing, the ship tilting back and forth and making dishes inside fall off of tables and shatter.

The first wave threw both of you forward against the railing, nearly ten feet away from where you had been standing, the ship listing so dramatically so suddenly that you weren’t sure if you’d been thrown or just fallen. You fell into Namjoon and Namjoon fell against the railing, and he cried out as his back hit it sharply and you slammed into him.

The second wave threw both of you in the opposite direction, away from the railing and back towards the middle of the ship, the large wave coming up over the railing and soaking both of you. You coughed and gasped as Namjoon tried to both grab onto you and grab at the wall you’d been thrown against, both of you nearly tripped over each other on the now slick floor. You’d hit the wall beside the door you’d walked out of, and Namjoon had crashed right into you, unable to stop himself, both of you being tossed around like children’s toys.

The third wave threw you both back against the railing again as the ship tilted dramatically, and both of you, while still holding onto each other, fell overboard.

You felt like you were falling forever. When you hit the water, it felt like slamming into concrete, and a huge wave immediately sucked you under, into the darkness.

You couldn’t feel Namjoon anywhere. You were thrown against the side of the ship, pressed there, still underwater, the back of your head hitting the ship so hard you saw white. The force of what held you there felt like enough to grind you into nothing, and then, just as quickly, you were sucked back out away from the ship.

You didn’t know which way was up. Wave after wave hit you from every direction, making you spin and twist and throwing you around like you were a ragdoll. You didn’t have time to think, you just tried to find the surface, survival instincts taking over.

Your lungs burned. You couldn’t breathe. You felt like you may as well be a hundred feet underwater, and for all you knew, you were. For a split second you felt like you got your head above water, but you were immediately swallowed by another wave before you could even take a breath.

This felt like it lasted for hours, but in reality it was less than a minute. Eventually you got yourself above water and took in a deep, agonized breath, gasping for oxygen and coughing up seawater. A huge wave came toward you but hadn’t crested yet, so you floated with it, letting it bring you up and back down again.

Looking around in all directions, you tried to find the ship or Namjoon. You saw neither.

Your isolation and terror hit you like a freight train.

You were in the middle of the ocean. Alone. During a storm. With no ship in sight.

You had no idea if Namjoon was even alive. You couldn’t see the ship anywhere — had you been under that long? Had you been pulled one way while the ship sailed another? Or was the ship lost to the storm too, everyone else now drowning and being pulled to the bottom of the ocean?

This was you worst nightmare coming true. Your imagination and intrusive thoughts kicked into overdrive; you imagined what could be underneath you, what monsters and leviathans could be swimming up toward you right now, ready to swallow you whole. You screamed, trying to swim upwards even though your head was already above water. You kicked your arms and legs furiously, hyperventilating and gasping as you entered complete panic. The waves still tossed you around, but they were big enough and most were not cresting, so you could float and stay above the surface mostly. The rain poured down on you, and you felt like the rain alone was going to drown you.

Namjoon surfaced then, about twenty feet away from you. Gasping, he saw you and swam toward you, and you swam franticly toward him, you arms and legs moving violently. As soon as he reached you, you grabbed onto him, wrapping your arms and legs around him and moving like you were trying to climb on top of him to get yourself completely out of the water. You were kind of vaguely aware of the fact you were screaming and gasping and maybe sobbing.

What you were doing made Namjoon’s head go back under the water again, and he tried to get you off so he could breathe. You curled up into a little ball, twisting your body so that your legs could stay up near his chest and your arms could wrap tightly around his neck and shoulders.

“Help me! You’ve got to help me!” You were screaming near-gibberish, holding onto Namjoon as tight as you could as you wept and gasped, a small part of the back of your mind recognizing you were having a panic attack.

Namjoon hadn’t even had the chance to react yet other than his basic survival skills keeping himself above water and keeping you from drowning him. His feet were treading water desperately, his neck twisting as he looked around for the ship. His hands went up to hold you in place as he looked, his attention not really on you as he tried to find your way back to safety.

“I don’t see the ship,” he said loudly to be heard over the storm, eyes wide in horror. “Where’s the ship?”

You didn’t respond, instead twisting yourself so that you were wrapped around him again, clinging onto his body as tight as you could with all of your limbs. You were crying and gasping for air, your mind simultaneously blank and full of every panicked thought you’d ever had as you wept and hyperventilated.

A huge wave crested above you, pulling you both under for a moment. You kept yourself on him, and Namjoon got both of you to the surface. You clambered up him wildly, trying to climb him again as you gasped and cried, tears streaming down your face with the rain and seawater.

“Y/N, stop—” Namjoon started to yell, but you accidentally pushed him under the surface, cutting him off short. He got himself back up and wrapped his arms tight around you, if only to stop your movements, using just his legs to tread water. You held onto him like a leech, shaking, hyperventilating, sobbing as your panic consumed you.

“I can’t keep us both above water,” Namjoon said loudly, thunder crashing around you. “You’re gonna have to swim. You’re going to drown us both—”

A wave swallowed you both then, sucking you deep under yet again.

You lost consciousness before you reached the surface.

***

When you woke up, the first thing you were aware of was that your face, arms, and legs were sunburnt to hell, your mouth unnaturally dry, your tongue like sandpaper. Your entire body felt bruised and sore, the back of your head throbbing, the dull ache intensifying with each pulse. You felt like you’d been hit in the back of the head with a baseball bat, and, remembering how you’d been thrown against the side of the ship underwater, you kind of wished you’d been hit with a bat instead.

The second thing you realized was that the sky above you was now clear and blue, and it was daytime. You were floating in the water on your back, the hot sun beating down and filling your corneas, all but blinding you. You were partially submerged, the gentle, calm water lapping at your sides.

Beneath you, you felt Namjoon holding you in place against him as he gently tread water, floating on his back as you laid on top of him. One of his arms was around your stomach, the other slowly moving in the water as he kept you both above the surface. Your head was back on his shoulder, strands of your hair floating loosely in the water.

“You’re awake,” he said then. His voice was lazy and deep, and you realized his movements weren’t just slow, they were sluggish, exhausted. You tried to shift your head and look back at him, but couldn’t at the angle you were at.

The sun where it was in the sky, perfectly above you, you guessed it was midday. Namjoon must’ve been awake since the storm last night, which meant he’d been awake for almost thirty hours, keeping you both above water during and after the storm all night and all morning, treading water all this time.

“Jesus, Joon,” you said as you realized that, but started choking on the dryness of your throat.

“I haven’t… seen the ship,” Namjoon said slowly. He sounded like he was drunk or half out of his mind, moments away from giving out from exhaustion. “I saw a plane, a few hours ago. I… I tried to signal it.” He held up his hand weakly, showing you he was wearing a watch. You didn’t catch the time on it. “I tried to use it, like a flare. A light flare, a re… reflection, from the sun. I don’ think it saw us though.”

“That was smart of you,” you croaked, your voice almost gone from dehydration and dryness.

“My phone… it fell out of my pocket las’ night, or maybe I forgot it at the table,” he slurred. “I don’ remember.”

“Namjoon…” you started. You wanted to ask him to trade places with you so you could tread water instead and he could rest and lay on you. The thought of being the one on the bottom, the one much more exposed to the ocean sent a shiver of pure terror down your spine, but it was the absolute least you could do for him. You could give him the chance to rest after keeping you both alive this whole time.

He kept talking, apparently not hearing you.

“I’m sorry I did this, but I… I checked to see if you ‘ad your phone. I’m sorry… I know some girls, keep it in your bra. I didn’t look much.”

“That’s fine,” you said. You completely understood and would’ve done the same. “Hey, Namjoon, here, let’s trade places.” You started to move, but he held you in place.

“No, 'is 'kay,” he said. His speech sounded like it was becoming more and more slurred every time he spoke. “I know you’re… 'fraid of the water. Jus’ keep looking up at the sky. 'Is okay.”

“Namjoon, really, let me take a turn. You need to rest.” You moved off of him and his arm fell off of you into the water, as if he were unconscious. You felt almost lightheaded as you shifted, moving upright instead of laying down for the first time in so long. You held onto his hand so he wouldn’t drift away as you started treading water on your own, your muscles sore and stiff.

Namjoon was worse off than you’d thought. His eyes were bloodshot and vacant, like he’d been forced to keep them open way too long in the bright sun. He looked exhausted and drained, deathly pale yet sunburnt to a crisp. You swore you could almost see his veins through his skin. You knew it wasn’t possible in the time frame, but he looked like he’d somehow lost a little weight.

His sunburnt skin was somehow already peeling, though one spot on his cheek looked more like a saltwater sore than a sunburn. His lips looked as dry as yours felt, and his lower lip was chapped, split, and bleeding, the blood just starting to run down his chin toward the water.

You immediately brought your hand up and wiped his chin with your thumb, keeping his blood from touching the water. You brought your thumb up to your mouth and sucked. You knew that bleeding in the water, especially warm waters like this, was a very, very bad idea. For all you knew, ten sharks were already circling the two of you below the surface right now.

Namjoon breathed slowly through his mouth, nearly wheezing, like just breathing agonized him. In your clinical paranoia and anxiety, you’d read a lot about surviving in open ocean: you knew that spending a lot of time in water like he had — and he’d kept you mostly out of the water for a lot of this, so you weren’t feeling it yet — the pressure, even at just a foot or so deep, started to affect the body. It constricted breathing, changing the way the chest cavity moved and expanded, and was even used as a torture technique in some places: making someone sit in water until they couldn’t breathe, even though their head was above water the whole time. That, plus the fact he’d been treading water for two people and exerting himself that much over such a long period of time, was more than enough to drain a person.

Being in saltwater this long also affected the skin, and you knew that if you didn’t find a way to get out of the water within the next day, your skin would start to deteriorate, loosen at the pores, and rot away. That was if dehydration and exhaustion didn’t kill you both first.

“What are we going to do?” you said. You really didn’t want to become panicked again. You held yourself back, refusing to let yourself break down now, but you still asked him that anyway, just to voice your fear.

“'Is okay,” Namjoon said. As he spoke, his eyes blinked slowly, like he was starting to nod off. “Don’ worry. We’re okay. We’ll jus’ float an’ find an island, or a ship’ll find us. It’s okay.” Namjoon was not a talented liar when half-dead.

You refused to let yourself cry or even think about the water, your odds of survival, any of that. You needed to focus. Namjoon had kept you above water all last night and this morning, and now it was your turn to return the favor.

Fish. You knew your best chance right now at not dying of dehydration was catching and eating fish, and using the fish oil you consumed to stay alive. If it rained, you’d need to find a way to collect the water. Now, though, you needed to focus on a way of finding, attracting, and catching fish, which you’d have to then eat raw and alive.

Wait — you also remembered that shark attacks, especially in warm waters, were something to stay alert to, and leaving bloody fish guts in the water was a very quick way to attract predators.

You were going to die.

Before you could say or do anything, you watched Namjoon suddenly slip out of consciousness, his eyes all but rolling back in his head. He slumped forward in the water, face down, and you caught him, pushing him back up so that his mouth and nose weren’t in the water. You moved behind him and held him the same way he’d held you, laying his head on your shoulder and keeping him flat on his back, just floating.

You floated like that for at least an hour. At one point you pulled Namjoon’s arm up and checked what time it was, but his watch was waterlogged and had stopped working at 9:15, and you didn’t know if that meant it had broken last night or this morning. You checked for his pulse a few times, each time finding it still going steady, albeit very slow.

At one point, something suddenly touched your arm. You screamed in surprise, pulling your arm away and trying to get yourself and Namjoon away from whatever it was, but stopped when you looked over and saw it was a piece of driftwood. Namjoon hadn’t stirred, even when you’d screamed.

You didn’t know what for, but you figured the driftwood could be useful at some point. You didn’t have a free hand to hold it, so you laid it on Namjoon’s stomach. It was light enough you could barely feel it in your hand, like it was made out of something just slightly heavier than styrofoam.

You started talking to Namjoon, blabbering on and on just to keep yourself entertained and to keep yourself from thinking about how deep the ocean was beneath you.

“I don’t really like tap water. I feel like it tastes really different, from whatever they put in it. Fluoride, right? I hate the taste of fluoride. I could really go for some fluoride water right now, though. I think my favorite kind of water is Smart Water. You know those really big bougie bottles? I love those. Or Fiji Water. We were supposed to be in Fiji… three days from now? We were supposed to be in Noumea today. I bet Mina and Hoseok haven’t even noticed we’re gone.” You laughed at that dryly. “I bet they got up and left while we were gone at dinner, and haven’t even left the room since then. Oh man, last night at dinner, I ordered this big ol’ tilapia with mashed potatoes and green beans. I’m so hungry right now, I might eat this driftwood later.”

You felt like you were losing you mind. Namjoon just floated there, still unconscious, and you kept checking to make sure he was still breathing.

Something else hit your arm, making you jump in surprise. When you looked down at it, you saw three little fish swimming by. You watched them go, and you realized something here was very off. You looked down in the water and didn’t see a dark abyss. You saw golden sand.

You could see the bottom of the ocean, and the water was only ten feet deep, maximum. You’d drifted far enough to find shallow water.

You spun around, looking around wildly. Above your head, two large white birds flew by. You saw it then. Maybe a football field’s length away was a small island, overflowing with green.

You nearly started crying in relief as you pulled Namjoon along, swimming as hard as you could.

“Joon, Joon, wake up, there’s land! We found land!”

Namjoon remained unconscious, but you dragged him with you as you swam with your legs and free arm. You almost cried out when you felt your feet touch the bottom, and as soon as you were in shallow enough water, you stood up and started pulling him, splashing through the warm water.

You immediately fell over, your muscles weak from exhaustion and not being used to gravity and normal weight. The top half of Namjoon’s body fell on your legs, and you shifted yourself and him so that you were pulling him along, dragging him and yourself up onto the sand.

You managed to get both yourself and Namjoon up to where the water just barely washed over your legs before collapsing. You laughed, nearly hysterical, feeling the wet sand between your fingers, holding onto it in handfuls. Tears streamed down your face, your heart bursting from joy and relief in catharsis.

After probably a half an hour of just laying there on the sand and just breathing, you managed to get yourself sitting up. In front of you was the ocean and nothingness on the horizon. To each side, beach curving away. Either the island was small or you were on a peninsula. Behind you was dense jungle. You could hear birds and noisy bugs — there was definitely an ecosystem of living plants and animals, which meant there would be fresh water and some kind of food supply.

Standing on shaky legs, you got to where you could move behind Namjoon, who laid on his back, arms out where you’d dropped them. Even while unconscious, he looked so weak and fatigued, the saltwater sore on his face and his split lip now both bleeding.

You still had on one of your heels. You must’ve lost the other one at some point in the storm, and you were shocked you hadn’t lost both. You bent and took off the one you still had, tossing it behind you further up the beach. Digging your feet into the sand, you dragged Namjoon up onto land by his arms. The white sand burned the bottoms of your bare feet, and you moved as fast as you could to get him up into the shade, only falling over from exhaustion a few times during the process.

The piece of driftwood was still on his stomach, and when you got him under a cluster of palm trees, you moved it from his stomach and used it to support his head, moving him as gently as you could. You took off his soaking wet shoes and socks, not wanting him to get whatever it was, that disease World War I soldiers got back in the day from walking in wet socks, and his belt, to help him be more comfortable.

You took off your garters and suspenders, peeling off your hose. You hung your hose and Namjoon’s sock on a branch nearby. You figured your suspenders would be useful at some point, as well as maybe the wire in your strapless bra. Namjoon’s belt would definitely be handy. Maybe you could use some of this stuff to make something to go fishing, maybe a net with the hose and—

Your thoughts were cut off when Namjoon, still unconscious, started gagging. You froze in shock and uncertainty, watching as his body shook, convulsing upward as he began throwing up. He was on his back so it had nowhere to go, and you watched, still frozen, as he began choking. Hearing that made you jump-start, and you quickly turned him onto his side, moving him so that he threw up onto the ground instead.

You felt Namjoon’s forehead, holding his head in place so he didn’t slide facedown into vomit. He was feverish, so hot to the touch you felt uncomfortable just touching him. His skin felt strange, deathly dry but also covered in a cold sweat, and it felt as if his skin were less movable and elastic. You gently pinched his arm, and his skin was unnaturally slow moving back, like his flesh was made of loose putty.

When he stopped throwing up — and he didn’t throw up much, just bile — he started moaning weakly, barely opening his eyes. His breathing was fast and shallow, catching in his throat with each agonized breath.

You moved your hand to his neck, feeling his pulse. You had trouble finding it, but when you did, it was racing and irregular. He moaned in agitation, weakly trying to move away from you, like just your touch was bothering him.

Namjoon showed every sign of severe dehydration you’d ever heard of, plus you had no idea what he was going through from exhausting himself so much and treading water that long. You needed to find him water and you needed to do it right now.

“Joon, I’m going to go find some water. You’re gonna be okay,” you said sweetly, trying not to speak too loudly and surprise him.

Namjoon mumbled a string of words you couldn’t understand. The only words you caught were “tree,” “dark,” “sun,” and “sea” between his harsh gasps. He looked back at you, barely able to keep his bloodshot eyes open, and said something else. He wasn’t making sense or saying anything coherent, just quiet gibberish as he breathed hard, lost in delirium.

You needed to go, but you didn’t want to leave him laying here alone. He could just roll over onto his back the second you walked away and throw up again, or he could get worse. Well, you figured, he was going to get worse no matter what if you didn’t go find water.

“Namjoon, you need to stay laying on your side,” you said, gently rolling him back over so he wasn’t looking at you. He moaned in irritation. “I know,” you cooed, stroking his hair back out of his face.

You couldn’t do anything for him here. You had to go and find the spring. You knew there had to be one, with this much wildlife, and it was your only chance at staying alive or helping Namjoon.

As you ran into the jungle, the end of your dress snagged on a low-hanging branch. It ripped, a few inches of it splitting. You’d all but forgotten you were still in your fancy skimpy dress, now discolored and faded from being in saltwater for so long. You were lucky a shark hadn’t tried to eat you, thinking you were a big colorful fish.

It took you about ten minutes to find it. The ground became wetter and wetter, the flora taller and stronger. You felt around with your bare feet, feeling your toes almost sinking into the wet moss. You turned around, looking around yourself wildly, and tripped backwards, falling on your ass right into water.

You were sitting in a pond. A small waterfall fed into it, the water coming out of a crevasse near the bottom of a large rock jutting out of the ground. The water was perfectly clear, probably only five feet deep at the lowest part. Tall palm trees and tropical leaves and ferns surrounded the area, shading it, the clearing surrounded with colorful flowers, bamboo stalks, and light gray rocks. A fish the size of your pinky swam by where you sat, not at all concerned by your presence.

You needed to find a way to get this back to Namjoon. Thinking fast, you stood up and walked over to one of the leafy plants, your dress dripping down your legs and onto the jungle floor. You found the biggest leaf you saw, pulling it out. When you cupped it and shaped it with your hands, it probably had enough room for about a bottle’s worth of water.

You waded into the water, heading straight for the direct source of the spring water, figuring that was the best place to get the cleanest water. You held the leaf there, letting water gently collect, and once you had it full you slowly and carefully made your way back toward Namjoon.

When you found him, he was unconscious again, thankfully still alive and breathing. You sat behind him, careful not to get yourself or him in the vomit still laying there, and had him sit up a little so he could drink as he leaned back on you. You held the leaf up to his mouth, but he didn’t wake up, sending a spark of panic through you. You moved so that his head tilted back and forced some water into his mouth. A lot of it ran down his chin and onto his chest, but at least some of it went into his mouth and down his throat. You saw him swallowing after a moment, and let yourself sigh in relief.

You got him to drink about half of the water before he started gagging. He threw up again, but was self-aware and awake enough this time to turn himself to the side and not throw up on himself or you. You held the leaf up above your head, careful to make sure he didn’t knock into you and spill it.

You drank the rest of the water and then went back to the spring, this time making a path for yourself on the way. You used rocks and large branches to move the foliage aside, leaving behind a clear trail you could easily follow. This would also help you get back faster, and you wouldn’t have to move around the thick plants while holding a leaf full of water.

You got Namjoon to drink about half of the next leaf too, and you figured that was enough for right now. You swore you remembered reading that giving someone too much water when they were dehydrated would make them sick, so you’d give him more very gradually.

You now focused on setting up a shelter. You were in survival mode, not allowing yourself to think about anything except your next move and how you were going to keep yourself and Namjoon alive.

A little bit down the beach, you found a tree near the tree line with a branch about four feet off the ground, and another tree maybe six feet away with a similar branch. You walked into the foliage, looking around for a huge, narrow stick. When you found one, you brought it back to your two trees and set the stick on the branches, making a bar. Now, you just needed to find more large sticks to lean against your bar, and then you could tie leaves to those sticks to make a thick barrier that could protect you both from the elements. You always knew your years in Girl Scouts would eventually pay off.

Setting up your plan took a while. You stopped part of the way through and went back to check on Namjoon, still laying there unconscious or sleeping. His breathing was normal now and he seemed more relaxed, but he was still feverish. You went back to the spring and drank a lot yourself before bringing water back to Namjoon. Even while not awake, he drank without hesitation this time, immediately swallowing instead of just laying there unresponsive. You stroked his hair back from his forehead, wiping away the sweat there.

Before standing up to leave him again, you leaned in and almost kissed Namjoon on top of his head, but caught yourself. What the hell was that? You shook your head and got up, gently easing him back down on his side.

The shelter was done by sunset. You cleared the ground underneath the slanted roof — it was still sandy there, so you figured you probably wouldn’t have to worry about bugs too much. You still laid down a layer of large leaves anyway, setting up a kind-of mat to lay on. This was about as good as it was going to get right now.

Your stomach felt like it was trying to eat itself. You didn’t have time to find food now, though — wandering around the jungle at night sounded stupid at best, and you still had things you had to do before the sun went down. The hunt for food would come tomorrow.

You went back and found Namjoon again. He seemed closer to sleeping than unconscious, and that comforted you. You went back to the spring one last time, filling yourself up and then taking one more leaf back to Namjoon. Once you got him to drink, you dragged him down the beach to your shelter, which took quite some time. He was a big boy, and you were fucking tired, your muscles still weak from being in water so long. You pulled him by his arms, though, and eventually got him there and rolled him under the lean-to.

After that, you went and found your discarded heel, garters, and hose and Namjoon’s belt, socks, and shoes, and brought them all back, keeping your stuff together and close. The spring was about a five-minute walk down the path you’d made from the shelter. Everything was fairly close together, and for that you were thankful.

You laid Namjoon on his side in the shelter and then climbed in behind him. You didn’t know how cold it got here at night, but you laid behind Namjoon, spooning him, partially for warmth and partially to make sure he didn’t roll onto his back at any point in the night.

The sound of the ocean was eerily lulling. You listened to it, the gentle waves lapping against the shoreline in the dark, and when you really listened you could hear Namjoon’s steady breathing. The jungle behind you was silent.

***

When you woke up, your arm was asleep. You’d used it as a pillow because of your lack of anything else, and that had been a minor mistake. You stretched it out as you got up and climbed over Namjoon, looking out at the early morning ocean.

The sun was just coming up, which meant with its position, your spot on the beach was facing north. You didn’t know why knowing that comforted you. Maybe knowing more about the situation, even inconsequential stuff like that, made you feel a little bit more in control of everything. Your head didn’t hurt as much today, and you felt your energy coming back, albeit only slightly.

You looked back at Namjoon. He hadn’t thrown up in the night, which meant he was keeping fluids down, finally. You felt his forehead — a little warm, but not clammy and feverish like he’d been yesterday. He had to be a little warmer than usual because of his sunburn, too, so that was okay. At least you couldn’t see his veins through his skin anymore.

Your own skin was peeling, too, your face and shoulders the worst. It itched so bad, but you kept yourself from touching it. You knew in the back of your mind that going into the ocean would help heal your skin — living with Mina, you knew all the little things about the ocean like that, about how clean saltwater healed wounds and made sunburns not hurt. Right now, though, the last thing you ever wanted to do was go back into the ocean.

You were hungrier than you’d ever been in your life. You needed to find food today. Namjoon wouldn’t be able to take anything besides water for a little while, so this was just for you. First order of business, though, was getting more water in both of you. Your number one priority was keeping both yourself and Namjoon hydrated.

You made your way back to the spring. As you walked, you thought about how you would try to make a fire today, and maybe start using big rocks to spell out “HELP” on the beach. Your mind kept wandering to food; not even you favorite foods, but basic stuff — bread, red meat, and fruits. You pictured a big, juicy steak and nearly whined out loud.

When you got to the spring, you saw something that made you freeze in your tracks. A wild boar, about the size of a fat house cat, was drinking from the pond.

Your mouth started watering just looking at it. Your mind just saw sizzling bacon as you stared blankly at the boar, unmoving as you stood there at the tree line of the clearing. It looked up at you and didn’t really seem to be afraid of you, just going back to drinking after a few seconds of a glance.

You pushed it out of your mind. The meat would probably go bad before you could even make a fire to cook it. You’d just find something easier, like fruit, and hold onto the knowledge that there were boars on this island for a time when you’d be more prepared to cook it. You’d probably also need to make some kind of defense weapon, in case this little guy was just a baby, and papa boar was around and angry.

You drank directly from the spring for a moment, letting yourself feel almost full, and then found another leaf and filled it up. When you got back to Namjoon, he was almost stirring awake.

As you sat down behind him, he tried to sit up, but was too weak.

“No, shh, stay down,” you cooed softly. You brought the leaf to his mouth and he drank slowly, a few drops spilling down his chin. When he finished, you set the leaf aside and looked down at him, wiping his chin and stroking his hair back off of his forehead.

You took his dress shirt off of him — it was long-sleeved, and you didn’t want him to overheat during the heat of the day today. You moved him onto his side again and bundled up his shirt, using it as a pillow underneath his head. Namjoon drifted back to sleep as you moved him.

You saw a large yellowish-purple bruise across his lower back and remembered how he’d hit the railing so hard when the ship had been tossed around in the storm. Reaching out, you let your fingertips skim against his skin, feeling his bruise. There wasn’t anything off about the way his spine looked, at least externally, and he’d been using his legs just fine when you saw him treading water. You hoped his kidneys were okay, since the railing must’ve hit him hard there, but you knew you had no way of telling what kind of pain he was in until he woke up.

Sighing, you stood up, leaving him. You then began your search for food, walking down the beach.

After a few minutes of walking along the tree line, you saw a plant you thought you recognized. A tree about three feet taller than you grew right beside the sand, fruit growing out of the top of it below its leaves. You recognized the fruit, but the name wasn’t coming to you. It was shaped like a fat eggplant and was a mix of green and yellow in color.

Papaya. You knew that’s what this was.

You reached up and pulled one off, and brought it down to look closer at it. You squeezed it with your hands, looking at it intently. You had no idea how to tell if papayas were ripe or bad, but this one looked as good as any.

You just bit right into it. The skin was hard to chew, like eating an orange peel, so you spat that out into your hand and bit off the meat of the fruit, leaving behind just the skin. You repeated this all over the papaya until the skin was gone, and then you devoured it. When you got to the seeds, you spat them out, unsure if they were safe to eat, but you ate every last bit of the meat of the fruit until there was nothing left.

You ate two more papayas before you moved on. About ten feet down the beach you found a banana tree, but all the bananas were small and green.

You kept walking. You wanted to see how big the island was, and see if there were maybe other inhabitants there. For all you knew, you were on a resort island, and you’d walk around a bend and see a big five-star hotel.

You found a few more papaya and banana plants, some of the bananas even ripe, and saw some coconuts and a few things you didn’t recognize. One looked like a huge blueberry, another like a bumpy green lump, and another like a small, light pink pear. You only gathered the ones you knew for sure, and figured that eventually you could test the others to be certain.

You kept walking and walking, and then you saw Namjoon laying under the lean-to. You’d walked around the entirety of the island, seeing no signs of civilization, and had done so in an hour at most, and that was with you stopping and looking at fruit. The perimeter of the island could only be a mile or so. You and Namjoon were definitely alone here.

You took your armful of fruit over to the shelter. You didn’t want to waste anything by picking it too early, so you’d only brought two yellow bananas and a papaya. You planned to get just a little bit of food into Namjoon tomorrow if he seemed up to it, starting with banana, since people could usually eat that when they were sick.

Namjoon was still asleep. Judging by the sun, it was nearing midday now. You went to the spring in the woods and drank, and brought some back for Namjoon, methodically keeping him hydrated, and then moved on, starting your call for help.

You spent a large part of the afternoon finding large rocks to arrange in the shape of HELP across the beach. Each letter was probably fifteen feet long and half that wide, and you only got halfway through the E before getting too tired to keep going today. The last thing you wanted to do was wear yourself out, so you figured tomorrow you’d finish E and do L, and then do P the next day.

You continued your routine. You checked on Namjoon. You went to the spring and drank some water, and then brought back a leaf full for Namjoon. You ate two bananas and called that a late lunch.

Late in the evening, you sat on the sand a few feet from the shelter. You faced out toward the ocean, watching the waves as the tide slowly went out and the sun set far to your left. At the highest point of high tide, the water was about forty feet from you. That comforted you, being that far from the waves.

You were thinking about how you could try to make yourself go fishing eventually when you heard Namjoon stirring, and you turned around, looking back at him.

“Hey, sleepy,” you said, smiling warmly.

Namjoon opened his eyes slowly, blinking as he got used to what he was looking at. As far as you knew, this was the first time he’d been aware of what was going on since that first night in the water.

You moved and went to sit beside him.

“You’ve been out for about a day,” you said. “There’s a spring a few minutes away, with clean freshwater. I found a bunch of fruit, too. I checked and the island’s small, no people. There are animals, though.”

Namjoon blinked a few times slowly. “Animals?” he asked, his voice deep, gravely, lethargic.

“I saw a boar,” you said, smiling. “That means there’s more, unless this guy swam here like we did.” You giggled a little at that, trying to lighten the mood, but Namjoon just laid there for a moment, thinking and looking out at the water behind you.

“What happened?” he said, his face blank. You bit your lip, not sure if you wanted to scare him, but figured you may as well tell him everything.

“You kept me alive until I woke up,” you said, watching his face to see if he’d react to anything you said. “It was afternoon when I woke up, and you seemed delirious. You passed out, and I kept you above water until we drifted and found this island. You were really dehydrated and sick, and I found the spring and got you to drink some water and rest. You’ve slept for over twenty-four hours. Probably twenty-eight, if I had to guess.” You added the last part nervously.

Namjoon nodded slowly, listening to all that. Behind you, the waves hit the shore steadily. You were getting sick of hearing that noise.

“I didn’t feel your pulse after that big wave,” Namjoon started, staring out at the water, speaking slowly. His eyes were blank and vacant, still bloodshot, though not as bad as they’d been. “I kept your head above water, just in case. I figured you’d swallowed some water, or maybe drowned. I tried to do CPR but it was kind of hard, with the waves and the rain.” He took in a few deep breaths, as if just speaking that much had worn him out.

“Thank you,” you said quietly, looking down at your hands in your lap. Your heart swelled from his words, and you almost felt yourself tearing up. He’d worked so hard for so long to keep you both alive. It must’ve been terrifying, thinking he was alone in the middle of the ocean, the only person with him potentially dead.

You glanced up and saw Namjoon slightly shaking his head, brow furrowed.

“When you didn’t wake up the next day or the following night, I started to get really worried. I felt you breathing, though, so I kept going.”

You looked up at him suddenly, eyes wide, heart all but stopping in your chest as your blood ran cold. “Following night? What do you mean?”

Namjoon shook his head again slowly. “The storm happened and we had that night in the rough waves, and then there was a full day and another full night where you were out, and then I don’t really remember anything after that.”

“Jesus, Namjoon,” you said, eyebrows about in your hairline from your shock. No wonder he’d been so exhausted — he’d had another twenty-four hours more than what you’d thought, and just what you’d thought he’d gone through was enough to kill him. Another twenty-four hours of keeping himself and you above water. Another full day of being alone with his thoughts and fears while adrift in the ocean, keeping an unconscious person above water just in case you were still alive. How the hell had he survived?

This meant that you had been unconscious for almost two full days. Didn’t being unconscious that long mean brain damage? You felt fine now, but shouldn’t you not be fine? You remembered hitting your head on the side of the ship, and you were certain going into shock from your panic hadn’t helped that at all, but your head barely hurt anymore, other than when you were exerting yourself too hard. Had you been in a coma or something? What the fuck?

Namjoon started to sit up then, but you stopped him, moving over to him and putting your hand on his shoulder to make him lay back down.

“You need your rest,” you said.

“I’ve rested enough,” he said, trying to sit up again, but he was too weak to even push against your hand just barely resting on his chest. You didn’t say anything, instead just watching him huff and lay back down.

A few moments of silence passed between you. The sounds of the ocean and waves mingled with distant birds and the gentle wind moving the leaves on the tall trees.

“I wrote ‘HELP’ with some rocks,” you said lowly. “Or at least, I started to. I’ll finish it in the next few days.”

Namjoon rolled onto his side and stared out at the ocean blankly. Just moving that much seemed to wear him out.

“That’s good,” he said flatly. “I’ll help tomorrow.”

“No you won’t,” you said. “You need to keep resting and recovering.”

“I’m not dying, I–”

“You were,” you shot at him, your expression and words turning harsh. You stared at him intensely, all but snarling. You were prepared to make him keep resting, even if it meant tying him to a tree with vines from the jungle.

“Well, I’m not anymore, and I want to help,” he said, not giving up on it.

“Too fucking bad,” you said, setting you jaw.

Namjoon glared at you. Apparently just to spite you, he sat up, pretending not to be dizzy once he was upright as he braced himself.

“I’m going to get more water,” you said coldly, standing up. “I’ll be back in a few minutes so I can put water in your mouth for you and help you drink, again.”

Without waiting to hear a response, you turned and walked down the beach to your path to the spring.

***

The two of you didn’t speak much the rest of the day, both of you too stubborn. That night, when Namjoon found out what the sleeping arrangements were, he huffed and pouted but didn’t comment, apparently still annoyed at you for refusing to let him help.

The two of you did talk for a little while seriously. You figured it was warm enough at night without a fire, but you’d need one to cook any eventual meat or fish and to keep warm if it rained or the temperatures dropped, and it would of course be great for signaling rescuers. You planned for Namjoon to work on that tomorrow while you worked on the “HELP” letters, since beating rocks together to make sparks was stationary and he could sit down and take his time with it. He seemed like he really wanted something to do, to feel helpful, and being put in charge of the fire seemed to please him. He tried to pretend he was fine, but he was still so exhausted.

You’d found some baby coconuts earlier and were fairly confident you’d be able to get them open, and tomorrow you’d have Namjoon try the milk to start getting used to something besides water, and then you could use the husks as tinder for the fire.

When the sun went down, it was a little bit colder than the night before. You curled up against Namjoon, who’d laid on his back, and he wrapped his arm around you, gently pulling you closer to him as he also felt the chill, your head on his chest, your hand over his heart. You used his dress shirt as a blanket, laying it over both of your upper bodies. You hooked your leg up over him, your thigh resting across his thighs, and he put his large, warm hand on your knee. He moved his thumb in small circles on your skin, sending sparks to your core. He was so warm, and you tried to remember and focus on how he’d been warm on the ship too, when he’d put sunscreen on you at the pool. His fever wasn’t so bad anymore. He was just a warm person. You didn’t need to worry about his fever anymore, you told yourself.

The ocean was so loud right now. Your mind drifted to how close to death you’d both been, especially Namjoon, and how you were probably going to die on this island. How could you possibly survive here long-term? What would happen if one of you got a little cut that got infected, or if one of you got seriously hurt? Just a broken bone or toothache could kill you. What if nobody every came looking for you? The ocean was so fucking big — how could anyone find anything? How had you even managed to find this island at all?

You felt and heard him sigh then, your hand and head both rising and falling with his chest.

“What are we gonna do?” you asked. Your voice sounded so small, nearly cracking as you spoke.

He didn’t answer for a moment. You wondered if he was actually asleep.

Namjoon did answer, his warm voice a low, comforting noise you could almost feel rumbling in his chest. “We’ll stay alive.”

He turned his head and kissed the top of your hair, resting his mouth there as he breathed slowly. The ocean didn’t sound as loud now.

***

Namjoon’s snoring only woke you up twice. You found yourself getting used to it, much preferring it over the awful sound of the waves you knew were going to eventually drive you crazy. You almost found his snoring comforting after a while, because now you knew for certain he was alive and sleeping, not unconscious or worse.

In the morning, after you’d gone to get your and Namjoon’s first drink of water, you went and found Namjoon some rocks to try to make his fire. You set up the pit, circling up some larger rocks to contain it and arranging some dry leaves and sticks. You helped Namjoon move over to where you’d set it up, since you didn’t want it right beside your very flammable shelter, and you helped him get settled in his new spot.

He started working, and you went and got one of your baby coconuts. You hit it against a tree nearby, and after only two hits it started to burst. You hurried over to Namjoon and held it as he drank from it eagerly. He brought his hands up to hold the coconut tighter, his fingers on yours as he drank up every last bit of liquid. A small amount of it dribbled down his chin, running in a long, thin line down the column of his neck, which you tried very hard not to stare at as he drank and swallowed, his large Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.

You peeled the coconut open and found the meat inside. You saw the way Namjoon was staring at the meat intently where he sat, mouth watering, and you reached in and brought some of the meat up to your own mouth.

“No solids for you until tomorrow at the earliest,” you said between bites, and he huffed, annoyed with that.

You put the dry parts of the cleaned out husk in the fire pit and went and cracked open another. Namjoon drank, you ate, and you threw it in the fire pit again.

You got to work on the “HELP” letters, working slowly not to overstrain yourself. Around midday, you took a brief break to get some water to Namjoon and get him another coconut. You had two papayas plus a leaf of water and the coconut meat.

In the afternoon, you continued with the rocks. Namjoon wasn’t having much luck actually starting a fire, but he was starting to make sparks and absolutely insisted that he’d eventually get it.

When you walked out of the jungle with yet another rock, back to the beach on what you told yourself was the last trip, you saw Namjoon standing and walking into the ocean, only in his boxers and already up to his knees in the water. You threw the rock in your arms off to the side and ran to him.

“Namjoon!” You sprinted, moving yourself as fast as your legs could carry you. You didn’t know what he was planning on doing, but with him as weak as he was, there was no way he’d be able to fight a riptide or maybe even just the normal waves pulling him out.

You splashed into the water and when you got to him, you wrapped your arms around his waist, physically dragging him back to shore.

“Stop it, get off,” he grumbled, trying to wiggle free. “I’m just trying to get clean. Neither of us have bathed in days.”

“Sorry, buddy. There’s a rule about this,” you said, still attempting to pull him back. “No swimming in the ocean when you almost died two days ago.”

“I’m fine,” he whined, begrudgingly allowing himself to be pulled backwards until you both stood with just your feet in the water.

“Nuh uh, Joon,” you said, letting go of him and walking around to face him. You were ankle-deep in the water and tried to ignore the small spike of fear even just this now brought you.

“Yeah huh, Y/N,” he said, matching your tone.

“If you’re fine, do ten jumping jacks right now,” you said, putting your hands on your hips. Namjoon didn’t say anything and definitely didn’t do what you’d asked, instead just setting his jaw and glaring out at the water behind you.

You smirked at him, knowing damn well that he wasn’t able to do that right now, and he knew it too.

“I’m going in and you can’t stop me,” Namjoon declared. He moved to step around you, and you sidestepped, standing right in front of him. He tried to do it again, and you just sidestepped again, smiling now.

“I can do this all day, Joonie. You getting tired yet?” you said.

Before he could say anything, you felt something touch your ankle and you screamed, jumping out of the water and up onto the sand. Namjoon used your distraction to walk straight out into the waves.

“Namjoon, stop,” you begged, walking in after him. You saw what had touched your ankle: a little piece of seaweed maybe an inch long.

You went right into the water after him, ready to pull him back again, but he moved down, dunking himself under where it was only about three feet deep. He stood back up, running his hands through his hair.

You looked down at his muscular, broad body as he faced away from you, his caramel-toned skin glistening from the water in the bright sunlight and thoroughly distracting you from your worry. It didn’t seem to fit, him still looking like this but you knowing he’d been starving and dying the past few days. You knew logically that of course he wouldn’t change size too much or in any way reflect his complete lack of food yet, but still. It felt odd seeing how muscular he was and remembering how frail and weak he’d been.

Namjoon dunked himself back under one more time, and then walked back onto shore.

“See? I was fine,” he said as he walked by. You ignored the way the droplets of water ran slowly down his firm chest and stomach and the way his smug smile made you want him to bend you over something.

“And if you’d been caught in a riptide, I’m sure you would’ve been a-okay,” you said, turning and walking back up to the shelter with him. When you got there, you decided to give him some privacy, and to go off and take a bath of your own.

You went to the spring. On your way there, you saw a low-hanging palm tree with more baby coconuts, just off the path. You got one and carried it with you.

You had nothing to use for soap, but maybe using coconut milk on some of your body would be the same thing as coconut oil or lotion. You knew that was an ingredient people used in soaps and stuff, and had read about fresh coconut milk being used on the skin. You could just rub it in and then wash it off with water. You were probably doing something really stupid, but you didn’t even care. You just desperately wanted to not smell like sweat anymore.

When you got to the spring, you stripped off your dress and took off your strapless bra and panties and laid them all out on a large flat rock near the edge of the water. You cracked the coconut against a tree and carefully set it on the rock beside your clothes.

The first thing you did once you were in the water was wash your panties. You didn’t want to fully transition to full-time commando, especially not with your short dress, but the time you’d been wearing them now was already far past way too long. You soaked and scrubbed them with just water, and then laid them out to dry.

You leaned back and dunked most of your hair in the clear water. Getting a little coconut milk on your hands, you ran your palms over your shoulders and upper body, rubbing it in and pretending it was a nice body wash back home in your shower.

It smelled so good and pleasant here. The little waterfall from the spring was the only thing you could hear besides the leaves and flowers moving in the gentle island breeze. You dunked yourself completely under the water, letting it soak into your skin. You ran your hands all over yourself, and felt, for the first time in days, almost clean. Your skin had been so dry from the salt water and pained from the sunburn, and the coconut milk felt like a thin lotion, exfoliating you skin.

You moved toward the deepest part of the pool, where you could still touch the bottom if you were on your tiptoes. You really didn’t mind being in this water. It was clear and you could see around you, and it was small enough you could see all of it. There was nothing hiding here.

“Hey, you.”

You nearly screamed in surprise.

Namjoon had followed your path and now stood near the entrance to the clearing, still dripping wet in his boxers, which were so low around his hips you could almost see a bit of dark hair. He seemed completely unconcerned with the fact you were naked — you had been facing the other way before, but when you’d spun around and saw him, you’d covered yourself, knowing the pristinely clear water would do very little to distort his view of you. You covered your breasts with one arm and crossed your legs, wrapping your other arm around your body instinctively.

“Fuck, Joon. You scared the shit out of me.”

“Language,” he said sarcastically. “And it’s Namjoon to you.”

Namjoon walked around the clearing, looking at the different plants and making his way over to the spring. He didn’t seem to notice or care that you were on edge, turning yourself with him so he wouldn’t see your ass.

“Uh, do you mind?” you said after a moment.

“Not at all, go ahead,” he said, sitting down on a rock beside the crevasse where the spring water flowed out. He cupped his hands and drank some before continuing. “I can’t see shit without my glasses, which I lost in the storm. You just look like a little skin-colored blob to me right now, especially this far away.”

You rolled your eyes and huffed. You’d been so relaxed and calm before he showed up, and now you were standing here covering yourself. Though, realizing that he’d lost his glasses and couldn’t see well without them did make you feel almost bad for him.

“So I was thinking,” Namjoon began conversationally, and you bit the inside of your cheek, preparing for a full conversation with him like this, with you covering yourself. “We can use your pantyhose as a fishnet. Nothing big, but enough to catch something we can eat. We don’t have enough for a mosquito net, but I haven’t really seen any mosquitos, even here with all this sitting water. We don’t need to make a rain filter since we have the spring, so our only real use for your hose is fishing or drying foods.”

“You know how to dry foods?” you asked. You were still covering yourself fully, but relaxed some as the two of you talked seriously. He wasn’t leering or trying to catch a glimpse, and he couldn’t see that well anyway, but he did look over at you and make eye contact when you spoke. His expression was serious and businesslike.

“Yeah,” he said. “Just hang it up and keep it in the sun for two days or so. It’s easy, I used to do it all the time when I hiked more. Bananas would probably be best, but we’d have to cut it up somehow. I’m not sure mashed bananas would be very good dried.”

“We can use the wire in my bra,” you suggested. Namjoon raised an eyebrow, but nodded after a moment in agreement.

“We can also use the prong on my belt, if we can get the buckle off, as a spear tip. Just tie it to a nice stick, and boom, we have a spear to use on that boar you saw. Twenty-first century arrowhead. We can probably tie it with your sexy little leg straps.”

“Sexy leg straps?”

“Yeah,” he said, nodding seriously. “You know, your hose thingys?” He made a straight line motion with his finger, drawing up and down the side of his outer thigh.

“They’re called suspenders.”

“Whatever. You knew what I meant.”

You looked at him for a moment. You were still standing there in the water covering yourself as much as you could, and he didn’t seem to have any plans for leaving any time soon.

“Yes?” Namjoon said when he noticed you staring at him. You could see the smallest hint of a smile on the corner of his smug mouth.

“Get out,” you said simply, smiling fake-politely.

“I’m just here to drink water,” he said, feigning innocence. “Remember the whole dying of dehydration thing? Plus we were talking about plans to survive. You plan on wearing that dress every day?”

“Were you planning on going permanently naked any time soon?” you said.

“Pants don’t last forever, and neither will that pretty little dress of yours.”

You set your jaw. Before you could say anything to him, he stood up, eyeing the water beside where he stood.

“Uh, what are you doing?” you said in surprise, realizing what he was doing.

“Going for a swim,” he said, like it was obvious. He pulled down his boxers, and then there he was, completely naked before you. You only looked up at him in short glances, your eyes wide, careful not to let him catch you staring. Even in the cool water, you felt the heat and slick wetness starting to build between you legs. You didn’t let yourself look at him anywhere below his stomach, but you could see even when not looking directly at him that he was a big boy, short dark hair surrounding his thick length, so big even when flaccid like this. He seemed completely at ease, this moment not sexual to him at all as he eased himself down into the water.

“Didn’t you just swim in the ocean?” You made yourself look only at his eyes.

“You barely let me go in at all, and I see you invented some coconut soap, which you didn’t share,” he said. “I wanna be clean and not smell bad, too.” Namjoon waded over through the waist-high water to where your coconut was sitting on a rock. You watched him glance at your panties drying there, the corner of his mouth quirking.

Namjoon got some coconut milk on his hands and rubbed it on himself. He was still facing away from you, so you stared blatantly as he rubbed his hands across his arms and shoulders, the muscles in his back moving and stretching.

He continued talking to you as he worked. “So, when are you going to let me start eating? Or is your plan to starve me out?”

You snorted. “How are you feeling with the coconut milk you had earlier?”

“Good.” He glanced back over his shoulder at you for a second, and your eyes snapped up to his eyes from where you had been staring at his ass through the crystal clear water. “Hungry as hell, and ready to start eating something.” He spoke normally, apparently not catching on to your leering, thankfully.

You didn’t answer him. You relaxed yourself a little, still keeping yourself covered but not letting your muscles stay as tense as they had been. After a moment, Namjoon spoke, still facing away from you and rubbing coconut milk on his upper body.

“I gotta ask. Where was all this shyness and modesty when you nearly jerked me off in public with your foot? Or is it different for you if you’re playing a game?”

You froze. You’d all but forgotten about how much you’d teased him on the boat. All of that seemed so long ago now.

“What game?” you said.

He turned around and looked at you, one eyebrow raised. You smiled at him innocently.

Namjoon moved slowly through the water, coming toward you. His dark eyes were so intense, you couldn’t look away if you wanted to, though his smile was playful. Your legs were still crossed and one arm still covered your breasts, but as he approached, stepping closer to you, you dropped your arm and moved to stand firmly on two feet. You were where the water came up to your breasts, the water level teasing your nipples as the gentle waves from your movements swelled around you.

To his credit, Namjoon didn’t look down at your breasts. You were standing nearly chest-to-chest now, though he was so much taller than you. Under the water, his hands moved slowly to touch your sides low on your hips, his fingertips just barely skimming against your skin as he gazed down at your eyes. You stood up straight, eager, leaning back just slightly as if presenting your chest to him.

Namjoon leaned in a little, looking down at your mouth with an absolutely depraved look in his eyes, his lips parting. You parted your lips too and watched his eyes darken as he took in a deep breath. This close to him, you could see the freckles he’d gotten from the sun, and the little moles he’d had before that you hadn’t really noticed before this moment. You studied the curve of his nose, the lines of his plush lips, all the details of his handsome face. You wanted to touch him, you wanted to feel his face with your hands, your breasts, your inner thighs.

One of his hands moved slowly around your hip toward your ass, lightly tracing his fingers there, his touch so gentle you could barely feel him. He moved around the swell of your ass and straight up your spine, watching you shiver as he moved. You looked up at him through hooded eyes, arching your back and wordlessly begging him to touch or even just look at your breasts.

Namjoon looked down, admiring you finally, and he leaned in so that his mouth was less than an inch from yours. You closed your eyes and could almost feel his mouth on yours. You felt his warm breath on your skin and nearly whined, a small moan escaping you. His hands traced up your ribcage, resting just below you breasts. Other than his hands, he didn’t touch you, though the rest of him was close enough to tease your skin with light touches and traces in the water.

His hands were so big and strong, you thought you might pass out just thinking about what he could do to you. His fingers touched the undersides of your breasts, moving upwards so slowly.

“This game,” he said then, pulling back completely and smirking at you.

You should’ve known.

You sighed and rolled your eyes as he moved back in the water, looking at you with a shit-eating grin on his face. You knew you were flushed and hot and bothered, and he’d gotten you so desperate in such a short amount of time, all but begging him to touch you.

Two could play this game.

***

It had to have been about ten days or so on the island by now.

You had yet to see a boat, plane, or any hint of other humans existing within a hundred miles of you. You would’ve been nearing the end of your cruise by now, you thought with a sigh. You had yet to get your period, guessing that was about due next week, and you were not looking forward to that experience at all.

The day after your game with Namjoon at the spring, you’d finished making the “HELP” letters and Namjoon had gotten a fire going. He’d eaten some bananas that night and didn’t get sick, so you considered that a success.

In the following days, you both got used to your routines. Namjoon worked on getting his strength up. He ran laps around the island, did push-ups, swam in the ocean — staying close to the beach, at your insistence. You even caught him lifting large rocks at one point, and made fun of him for that quite a bit. He’d insisted that he was doing it just to test if his strength was fully back yet or not.

You both went fishing and hunting. Namjoon made a spear like he’d said, sharpening the point on his belt buckle and using one of your suspenders to secure it there. He found and killed a small boar, which you roasted over the fire and split between the two of you. Namjoon made a joke about you eating a baby Pumbaa, which made you want to hit him. The following day you caught a huge fish and split that, too, though Namjoon seemed to not like seafood all that much.

You tested one of the fruits you didn’t know over a few days and found it was edible and wouldn’t kill you, and when you brought it back to your little camp proudly, Namjoon was sitting by the fire, cleaning the fish he’d caught that day.

“Noni?” he said, looking up at you as you walked over.

“Huh?”

“The thing you’re holding,” he said, motioning up toward your hands. “It’s called noni fruit.”

You looked down at the fruit you were holding. You’d spent days testing to make sure it wasn’t poisonous, and had wanted to present a new food to him as a nice surprise, and Namjoon had known the whole time what it was. Figured.

You had a fish and noni fruit dinner, finished off with coconut meat and milk and a leaf of water split between you afterwards. You didn’t have many complaints food-wise. You figured the two of you were about as lucky as you could get not to have ended up on an island with nothing, and even luckier to have ended up on an island at all. The place you’d landed pretty much served up all you needed to eat, and the only thing you really had to work for was meat, but even that helped give you something to do.

That night, you both sat by the fire talking for hours. You’d done a lot of that since you got used to your routines and set everything up. There wasn’t very much to do, besides hunt, collect fruit, and keep the fire going so potential rescuers could see it and the smoke.

Every night, you slept right beside each other, cuddled together. In the light you both were cocky and play-fought each other, teasing and bickering, but at night you held onto each other, neither pointing out aloud how much you depended on each other. A few times, you’d started crying in the middle of the night, and Namjoon always hugged you tighter and stroked your hair and told you it was going to be okay. You’d done the same for him when he’d broken down, and learned that night how much he liked and was comforted by you stroking his hair and humming to him. You were both so terrified, and at night you clung to each other like you were still lost and adrift in the middle of the sea.

When you went to bed that night, Namjoon just wore his boxers and you your panties and his dress shirt. You washed your clothes in intervals, wearing one outfit for two days or so and washing the other at some point in that time period. Namjoon was pretty much always shirtless now, to your delight, so he alternated between his dress pants, which he’d ripped into shorts, and boxers. You’d basically torn apart your bra when you got the underwire out to use, so now you alternated between your dress and Namjoon’s shirt. Both of you were clinging to the last semblances of modesty and normality you had left for as long as you could.

Tonight you laid facing in, turned away from Namjoon and the ocean, and after you’d been laying there for a while, you felt him turning toward you. He wrapped his arms around you, nuzzling his face into your hair, the tip of his nose touching your scalp. Your legs were bent and he bent his too, right along behind you, fully pressing his body against you from nose to feet. He was so gentle with you, and you immediately, reflexively, melted back into him. Namjoon exhaled, a hint of a small moan in his deep sigh.

You only ever felt truly safe at night, like this in his arms.

***

You woke up in the middle of the night. Namjoon was asleep, his erection pressed hard against your ass, and you sighed, snuggling back against him, using the slight friction for warmth. You loved when you woke up and could feel he was hard. The tension between the two of you had yet to be resolved, and nothing had happened after that day in the spring. You wanted him so bad your pussy almost ached when you looked at him, and when you woke up and could feel his huge length hard against you, it always made you shift and snuggle back into him, loving the feeling and idea of him being aroused by you so much, even if he was asleep.

He groaned in reaction to your movement. Still asleep, his arms tightened around you and pulled you even closer against him, holding onto you firmly with his muscular arms you loved so much.

He smelled so good. Earthy, like sea salt and smoke from the fire still burning a few yards away, with a hint of coconut and his musky natural scent and pheromones. You wished you could just lay here and smell this forever.

You turned over slowly, careful not to wake him. Once you were facing him, you nuzzled in against his chest. Namjoon tightened his arms around you again, sighing.

Facing him was even better. He was so warm and smelled so good, and you were right up against his bare chest. This close, you could see the hints of very slight stubble on his chin and the freckles across his face and shoulders from all the sun he’s been getting. Namjoon was so broad and muscular and big, and you brought one of your hands up to rest over his heart, very subtly feeling his pectoral muscle and heartbeat.

At your touch, Namjoon’s eyes shot open and he rolled both of your bodies, moving so that he was directly over you, straddling you, his face buried in against you neck.

You let out a small squeal in surprise, grinning and gasping in delight. He moved slowly, grinding his erection into you as he let out a low growl. You moaned, your eyes rolling back in your head as you felt his thick, hot length pressed against you through his boxers.

“What are you doing, Y/N?” he murmured against your neck, moving so that his lips brushed your skin while slowing down the pace of his grinding to downright torturous. He had to know that he was rubbing right against your clit, every sudden movement making you gasp.

“Nothing,” you said, your voice high-pitched and breathy.

You couldn’t see his face — the only thing you could see was the low light from the fire yards away dancing across the ceiling of the shelter above you — but you could feel him. The tip of his nose touched your pulse point on your neck. His breath both warmed and made goosebumps spread across you skin. He braced himself with both arms, caging you there, his hips grinding into yours.

“Are you sure?” he murmured right against your ear, his breath hot.

“Yes,” you said, closing your eyes. Right after he’d finished speaking, he’d taken your earlobe between his teeth and pulled gently. Your fingers dug into his bare shoulders, holding onto him desperately as he moved against you still.

“Tell me to get off,” he said, his voice so deep and gravelly and low you had to close your eyes. The tip of his nose traced your jaw playfully as he spoke. “Tell me you don’t want this, and I’ll get off and never touch you again.”

You wrapped your legs around his waist, your centers pressed together fully through your thin clothes.

“Don’t get off.”

He didn’t even respond. Namjoon thrust so hard against you, your entire body rocked. He did so repeatedly, quickly humping and grinding against you through both his boxers and your panties. All you could hear was his breathing directly against your ear, low growls and breathy moans escaping him through the exertion of how forcefully he was moving. He was saying something you could barely understand, though you thought you heard “Yeah, you fucking like that?” after you moaned loudly.

You tried to meet his thrusts but he moved one of his hands down to grab your hips, roughly holding you in place.

“You’re so fucking good, so beautiful,” he growled, biting along your jaw. “I wanna fuck you forever, baby. God, I wish we could, so fucking bad.”

Before you could say anything, a sudden loud thump hit the roof of your shelter, and you both jumped and froze, waiting and listening for any other sounds.

Your heart raced. Namjoon looked down at you, eyes wide, and slowly moved off of you, shifting to his knees and then to a standing position outside the shelter.

He grabbed the spear from where it leaned against the tree, slowly walking where you couldn’t see him. You quickly jumped up too, watching him walk around the shelter, looking for what had made the noise.

He bent over and you couldn’t see him, and then stood up again, holding a coconut. You both looked up above you: you had set up your shelter underneath a palm tree that now had three coconuts hanging from it, and a fourth had just fallen and hit the roof of your lean-to.

You both laughed in relief, and Namjoon tossed the coconut behind him into the jungle, since you had no way of cracking into a non-baby coconut.

Namjoon walked straight for you then, throwing the spear off to the side. His eyes were dark and intense, and when he reached where you stood, he picked you up by your thighs, wrapping your legs around him as he sucked on your neck roughly, carrying you back to the shelter. His hands ran over your back underneath the shirt as he walked, feeling your bare skin desperately, and you tilted your head back in ecstasy and gasped, completely willing to let him do whatever he wanted to you.

He laid you down inside the shelter, his mouth still connected to you. He kissed you roughly, hungrily, claiming your mouth with his own, his tongue so deep inside you. You wrapped your legs around Namjoon tighter, pulling him down against you harder. He kissed you ravenously, one of his hands behind your head, knotting in your hair, holding your head just how he wanted you.

You could feel his erection through his boxers and your soaking wet panties. He ground himself against you roughly, bucking his hips, again nearly fucking you just like this through both your clothes.

“I’ve wanted you under me since the moment I saw you,” he growled against your ear, biting at your jaw. “So fucking beautiful.” He dipped his tongue into your mouth, so deep you swore you felt him in your throat, growling again.

You loved every moment of this. He moved so desperately, he was rough with you without hurting you, and god, the things coming out of his mouth were obscene. Namjoon brought his lips to your ear and whispered all the things he wanted to do to you, all while grinding himself against you harder and harder. You nearly cried out, just his words and his hips bringing you close already as you felt him moving against your clit through your clothes. His voice was deep and gravelly, contrasting his usual smooth-as-honey tone. You felt his growls and moans deep within you, all the way to your tight, throbbing core.

“–And then when you’re writhing and begging me, your beautiful legs spread so wide, I’ll kiss your pussy, taste your sweet, wet cunt. I bet you taste so fucking good, don’t you, baby? I can feel how wet you are right now, and it’s all for me. I wanna kiss and lick every inch of you so bad, I swear I could swallow you whole. Do you want me to call you ‘baby girl,’ sweetheart?”

“Yes,” you gasped, clawing at his back.

“I knew you would,” he growled against your ear, still thrusting against you, and you could almost feel his smile. “I want to kiss every inch of your beautiful skin, baby girl. I want to bring you pleasure with just my mouth, I want to please you, praise you, worship you. I want you to know what I can do to you. I want to feel you cum for me and taste you as you cum all over my face. I think about that so much, baby.”

His hips bucked faster, spreading his knees apart to spread your legs even farther as you whimpered from his filthy words.

“You think about me?” you managed to say, your voice so much higher than normal, you barely recognized yourself.

Without answering, he brought his mouth to yours, the tip of his tongue nearly touching the back of your throat again as he tilted his head, trying to dive deeper still. He kissed you and fucked your mouth with his tongue, groaning obscenely into your mouth when you sucked on his tongue.

He parted from you after a moment, gasping for air. He kissed along your jaw as best as he could while trying to get his breath back, and bit at your earlobe playfully again before answering.

“You’re the only thing I think about, baby girl,” he growled, bringing one hand to your breast, squeezing roughly. “I imagine fucking you on your hands and knees and making you scream for me, stuffing you full of my cum ’til it’s dripping out of you. I imagine making love to you, so fucking sweet, holding you so tight to me as I take you over and over, holding you like you could break. But I know you can take it. I know you like it rough, princess. And I’ll do anything you want. You want me to make you feel good, even if it hurts too, because you like it. You like pain with your pleasure, don’t you, princess?”

“Yes,” you moaned, arching your back up against him, so far gone by just his words and him dry-humping you through your clothes. How he’d managed to work you up this much without even touching you under your clothes was beyond you.

“I wanna fucking drown in you,” he growled, your earlobe between his teeth again. He pushed himself fully against you, so hard you could feel his cock throbbing. “I bet you feel so fucking good, and taste even better. I wanna fuck you every moment of every day.”

You couldn’t take it anymore. You brought your legs down from around him, and Namjoon started to move off of you, surprised and confused. You only let him move enough so you could get your panties down and off of you and the buttons on your shirt undone, and then you brought him back down to you, pulling his boxers down to his knees and letting his erection spring free, bobbing up against his stomach, painfully hard. God, he was big, so long and thick and perfect. Your mouth watered just looking at him, already so eager to be filled up and stretched out by him.

“I don’t have a condom,” Namjoon said, biting his lip and holding himself off of you as you wrapped your legs around him again.

“Obviously,” you deadpanned, looking up at him. You giggled, shaking your head. “What? You mean you didn’t run down to the store and buy any?”

“Shut up,” he grumbled, hiding the smile he had from your teasing.

“Don’t worry,” you said, sobering after a moment of your giggles, your need for him taking over. You spoke quickly, nearly babbling in your excitement and need. “I have an IUD. Birth control for two years, no condoms needed. The doctor said it’s more than ninety-nine percent effective and it’s the most effective of all the birth controls, bla bla bla, and it may be stupid but I’m definitely willing to take that risk right now. Now get inside me.” You tried to pull him closer to your throbbing core where you needed him so badly with your legs, but Namjoon stilled above you.

“Huh?” he said, tilting his head and looking down at you. He didn’t follow, mostly because he was completely lost in a haze of lust, barely seeing straight, and you realized that you had kind of spoken about a hundred miles a second. His eyes twinkled in the light of the fire, but they looked glazed over, lost in his desire. He was breathing hard and already breaking a sweat, and you could feel his heart racing, his whole body throbbing from his need.

“I have a birth control implant in my uterus that lasts two years,” you said much slower, calming yourself down and looking him in the eye. You put your hands on either side of his face, making him focus. “Basically, I can’t get pregnant for at least another eighteen months. Now get inside me, daddy.” You added the last bit with a smirk, watching his reaction as all of that slowly sunk in.

Your words registered with Namjoon, and he immediately jumped into action, apparently also willing to take the less than one percent risk of pregnancy. You figured this island might be the actual worst place on the planet to get pregnant, but you trusted your IUD enough and were so far gone in your lust, you were willing to be stupid.

Namjoon reached down and lined himself up with your entrance, and then thrust into you in one smooth motion. You cried out as he stretched you, and he kissed you, swallowing your moans. A deep, broken noise escaped him as he felt your walls clenching down on him and adjusting to his size.

“You feel so fucking good, I knew you would,” he groaned, his words turning into a whiney moan as pleasure almost completely overwhelmed him. He was so big, and even though you were soaking wet, it was a tight fit. You’d had a while of intense foreplay and dry-humping, and now both of you were barely holding on by a thread.

“Keep talking, naughty boy,” you said, pulling his hair. You tightened your legs around him, and he began slowly moving, muttering praise and more dirty talk, his nose and mouth directly against your skin on your neck.

“Your pussy’s the most incredible thing I’ve ever felt, baby girl. You’re so fucking good, I’ve wanted this for so fucking long. I wanna make you feel so good, sweetheart, that’s all I want, I–” He cut himself off as he picked up his pace, and you arched your back and brought your legs up even higher around him. One of his hands held onto your thigh, bracing himself and holding you in place exactly how he wanted you. “You feel so fucking good, Y/N…” He moved his hips so quickly, you knew you both weren’t going to last.

You knew exactly what you needed for him to do to push you over the edge. You reached down and took his hand he wasn’t using to support himself, and brought it up to your throat. You squeezed your hand around his, making him choke you.

Namjoon took the hint and squeezed his hand tighter, and you gasped, your vision going blurry as he pumped pure bliss into you body. Every stroke filled you perfectly, the head of his cock hitting you deeper and deeper with every thrust, stroking a spot within you that made you see stars as his thick girth stretched you out. You tried to bring your legs up even higher around him, and then he was hitting you at the exact perfect angle.

You tried to scream out in pure uninhibited pleasure, but his hand on your neck made the noise choked off and broken. The hand that wasn’t around your neck was in your hair now, and he squeezed his fingers there too, just hard enough to hurt. He pulled you so that you head tilted back almost painfully, showing off your neck to him as he squeezed there tighter.

Namjoon’s movements were becoming erratic and brutal. He wasn’t speaking anymore, just moaning and grunting. He loosened his grip on your neck just long enough for you to wheeze in a shaky breath. Tears streamed down your cheeks from the force of it all, your eyes watering from asphyxiation and pure pleasure. His thrusts filled you so hard, you were sure the sound of his skin smacking against yours could be heard on the other side of the island, if they weren’t drowned out by both of your moans.

Namjoon buried his face in against your neck, his nose against your rapid pulse and feeling you trying to breathe and moan, his hand now squeezing your throat harder again. You couldn’t even see anymore, the only things your mind registered were his voice and the feelings of his cock moving inside you and his hand on your throat.

“God, you’re so fucking tight,” he groaned. “Your pussy’s so fucking perfect, I could fuck you forever. I wanna cum in your tight little pussy just so I can lick it clean. You want that? You want me to eat your perfect cunt, princess?” He paused long enough to lick once up the side of you face, slowly, his tongue wide, which would’ve made you gasp if you could breathe.

He rubbed his cheek against yours roughly, completely animalistic and primal, as he continued. “I’m gonna make you fucking scream, I’m gonna make you cum so hard you can’t see, can’t walk, can’t think. I’m gonna fuck you so good, the only thing you’ll know how to say is my name. Fuck, you’re so good. Scream when you cum for me, baby, or I’ll spank your ass raw.”

If you had any air within you, you would’ve screamed as you came. Instead, you tried to gasp, unable to inhale at all with Namjoon’s hand tight on your throat, and he only moved himself harder and harder, savagely pulling every drop of pleasure from your body. You’d never felt anything like this, your orgasm completely overpowering you. He must’ve loosened his hold on your throat, because you somehow screamed, and he came right as he heard you and felt you clenching and spasming around him.

Namjoon quickly pulled out, finishing himself off with his hand on your stomach, his head buried in your neck as he kept himself mostly up off of you. You gasped desperately, his hand gone now as he stroked himself furiously with it, thrusting into his own fist as if he just couldn’t make himself stop, moaning in pure ecstasy as he fucked his own hand and spilled his cum all over your stomach.

Namjoon let out a noise from deep within him and just barely managed to keep himself from collapsing on top of you when he finished. Instead, he held himself up with his arms and knees, giving you plenty of room to breathe and recover as you both gasped for air. His arms and legs shook like at any moment his limbs might give out, but he focused solely on keeping himself up. You noticed, and you turned your head and kissed the corner of his mouth, trying to pull his body down onto you with all of your limbs wrapping around him.

He reluctantly let himself rest his weight on you, only partially. You didn’t mind; if anything, you loved feeling him on top of you. Feeling the weight of his big, perfect body was so comforting, and you still just wanted to be closer to him. His cum pressed between your bodies, smearing on both your stomachs as he let himself put more of his weight on you. It was a sticky mess, but god, it felt so dirty and filthy and good.

After a moment of catching his breath, Namjoon started kissing your shoulder. He peppered your skin with his love, his breathing still deep and slow, his voice in his breath muffled against your skin as he moaned with almost every exhale, and the sound was music to your ears.

He made his way down your body slowly, and you only had the energy to lay there and enjoy being worshipped. His tongue circled one of your nipples, and you brought your hands to his hair, knotting there. He sucked your nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it lazily, and you arched your back, letting out a lazy moan and closing your eyes.

He kissed down to your stomach and started licking you, tasting his own cum and your sweat from the exertion of what you’d just done. He held you with both hands, holding you perfectly in place, his hands nothing but gentle as his fingertips skimmed along your ribs and his tongue lapped up every drop on your stomach, licking you clean, just as promised.

As Namjoon licked his cum off of you, he moved his mouth so slowly, so gently, so sweetly, like he wanted to do just this for days. He moved down your body slowly though, and dipped his tongue into your belly button playfully when he reached it. You felt him smiling against your skin when you giggled in reaction.

He got to your legs and spread your thighs gently. He kissed your cunt so chastely, his lips pressed together like he was a gentleman kissing a lady’s hand. He tilted his head and kissed your folds, his mouth opening and his tongue moving on you. You knotted your hands in his hair and moaned as he dipped his clever, evil tongue into you.

“Joon,” you moaned, spreading your legs wider, and Namjoon moaned back to you in response, the noise muffled against your pussy.

He opened his mouth as wide as he could, covering you from entrance to clit, and then he started sucking roughly, drinking you, tilting his head as if kissing you deeper as he slowly moved his lips back together and slurped. You cried out, pulling his hair roughly as the new source of such intense pleasure overwhelmed you. As he sucked, he thrust his tongue in and out of you rapidly, fucking you with his tongue and moving his whole head around like he was trying to fucking motorboat your pussy, or maybe attempting to bury his head inside you.

He closed his lips on you with an obscene wet slurping noise and started drinking at your entrance, his tongue quickly lapping into you as you felt nothing but his talented mouth.

“Joonie, that feels so good,” you moaned, trying to thrust up against him. He groaned against you and moved his hands then, grabbing your ass with both hands and pulling you tighter against his face. Namjoon sucked and drank and fucked you with his tongue, every moment such sweet bliss.

He’d planned to work your entrance for a while before going up to your clitoris, but you didn’t even last that long. Your whole body shook when you came, holding onto his hair with both hands. This time you did scream fully, and you thought you heard birds all over the island flapping away from the trees, as if spooked by the noise. You scream-moaned with every exhale, and Namjoon kept moving his mouth and holding you close to him, working you through your orgasm roughly.

You laid there gasping, staring at the ceiling of the shelter, dazed and fucked out and so far gone. As you recovered, you felt Namjoon leaving hickeys on your inner thighs and hipbones, entertaining himself with marking your skin.

You glanced down at Namjoon when you felt him pulling back. He stared up at you, eyes dark and mouth nearly dripping from your wetness. After a moment of eye contact, he leaned in again and licked you slit, as if he were trying to lick up the new wetness that now dripped from you from your orgasm. He watched your reactions as he slowly worked, seeing you spasm and squirm as you moaned and arched you back again in overstimulation.

Namjoon pulled back again and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand before climbing on top of you. He moved in close, pulling your legs up around him and nuzzling his face in against your neck.

“You taste so fucking good, baby,” he murmured, his deep voice a low rumble, grinding his erection against your stomach, hard again just from eating you out. “I knew you would. So fucking sweet, princess, I can’t get enough of you. I’m gonna eat your beautiful pussy forever.”

Namjoon slid into you again and you screamed, full-out actually screamed, crying out in ecstasy and overstimulation as you gripped at his sweaty shoulders. You swore he was going to kill you, he felt so good.

“God, baby, keep sounding like that and I really will fuck you forever,” he groaned, his hands on your body squeezing you tighter.

This time he moved so much slower, holding himself up with his arms and spread knees. He kissed your mouth, slowly moving his tongue deep within you, hitting the deepest corners of your mouth and completely dominating you as he moved his tongue in time with his hips. His large arms caged your head, and he was the only thing you could see or feel at all.

He pulled his mouth back enough just to say, "See how good you taste?” before dipping his tongue back into you, hungrily, so slowly claiming your mouth. He growled when you started sucking on his tongue, thrusting in hard once and circling his hips when he was inside you as deep as he could get.

You moaned into his mouth and he moaned right back, not taking his mouth off yours as he kissed you and rolled his hips over and over, just fast enough to keep you desperate. He pinned one of you arms down above your head by your wrist, holding it down tightly but not painfully, lacing his fingers with yours.

As Namjoon moved, you felt him becoming more and more desperate. He began bucking his hips, kissing the corner of your mouth sloppily. His breathing picked up as his pace did, and he gasped, the two of you cheek to cheek as he brought one of his hands down to hold onto your hip.

You started encouraging him. “Yes… fuck, you’re so big. Fuck my tight little pussy, Joon,” you groaned, tilting your head back as he slammed into you so hard and fast you could barely breathe. He moaned with every exhale, so far gone, only moments away from falling apart again.

“What’d you fucking call me?” he growled, not stopping or slowing his pace at all.

“Joon?” you moaned, closing you eyes.

Instead of answering, he suddenly bit down on your neck so hard it had to have broken skin. You cried out, and as Namjoon kept biting down and kept thrusting, going even faster somehow, you kept screaming, short cries with each exhale between desperate gasps for oxygen.

“Joon,” you repeated, loving every moment of this, and he bit down again, harder, now where your neck met your shoulder. You felt the sharp pain in your shoulder throb, and it felt incredible, the pulsing matching that in your aching cunt. He licked at the part of your skin between his teeth, and you swore you felt him moaning.

You repeated “Joon” one more time, and Namjoon stopped suddenly, pulling back and glaring down at you, seething. Saliva and traces of your wetness covered his chin and lips, a wild look in his eyes.

“Call me that one more fucking time,” he snarled, “And you’ll fucking regret it, you little slut.”

You must’ve looked scared, because Namjoon’s eyes immediately softened, a concerned, terrified look on his face. He leaned in and kissed your cheek gently, murmuring against your skin.

“Only if you want to, sweetheart.” He kissed your cheek again. “I’m sorry.”

“No, you just surprised me,” you said, your voice so small and high-pitched you barely recognized it. “I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, angel. I’m sorry I scared you. I’ll never do that ever again.” He nuzzled in against your neck gently. He was still inside you, your bodies joined so perfectly, and he shifted his hips, trying to get even closer to you.

“You can do it again, I was just taken by surprise this time,” you said. “I’m sorry I kept calling you Joon.”

“No, it’s my fault. You didn’t do anything wrong. You can call me anything you want. I won’t do anything like that ever again, I promise, sweetheart. I’m sorry.” He kissed along your neck, avoiding the bite marks he’d left there before.

“I want you to do it again.”

Namjoon froze when you said that. He pulled back just enough to look at you and see your serious expression.

“Yeah?” he said, watching you carefully with a small smile spreading on his face.

“Yeah.” You nodded, biting your lip and looking up at him through your lashes. “I want you to fuck me like I’m your little slut, daddy.”

He flinched when you said that, apparently no longer in that kind of mood, so you corrected yourself.

“Namjoon,” you corrected, smiling up at him. “Joon,” you added, smiling, and Namjoon smiled too.

Namjoon moved to the other side of your neck, pressing kisses on your skin there. One of his hands went up to your ribs, just under your breast, resting there lightly as his mouth teased you.

“Tell me exactly what to do and I’ll do it, angel,” he murmured, his breath hot in your ear.

You could tell that he was trying to make up for his perceived wrongdoing by saying he’d do anything, and that he really just wanted to take it slow and gentle right now, scared out of his rough ‘daddy’ mood he’d been in before.

“Make love to me,” you moaned, holding onto his shoulders, and Namjoon complied.

Rolling his hips, he moved slowly in you, not lazily, but deliberate. Every gentle thrust brought your bodies closer together, the head of his cock stroking you so deep, exactly where you wanted him. You moaned, encouraging him with how good he made you feel.

He whispered soft praises in you ear. “You’re so beautiful, Y/N. I’ve never felt anything so good, ever. You’re so tight, so wet for me, so perfect,” he said, holding your body tightly to his. “I could make love to you forever. You taste so good, and feel even better. Your pussy’s like milk and honey. Like warm, wet silk.”

Your orgasm was gentle this time. Namjoon had to work for it, making love to you exactly as you’d asked, and when you finally came you let out a long, anguished moan that made him gasp and still, cumming into you as he felt you clenching down on him so tight. You froze when you heard what he was saying as he came, muttering almost unintelligibly as he spilled into you and hugged you.

“Don’t leave me. Please, don’t ever leave me here alone. I need you. Please, please, I need you, I love you. Please….”

This time he did collapse on you, completely spent. He breathed in sharply, rasping for air, and got himself off of you as soon as he could, propping himself up on his knees and forearms. You breathed steadily and tried to will your heart to stop beating so fast and hard as you looked up at him.

Namjoon started to roll off of you, but you leaned up and kissed him, holding onto the back of his head. He rolled anyway, keeping your mouths connected, both of you rolling until you were on top. He hugged you tightly, your breasts squeezed against his chest, and he moved one hand behind your head to hold onto your hair, pulling it back from your face for you.

You pulled back just enough to look down at him. He looked completely love-struck, hearts in his eyes as he gazed up at you, a lazy smile on his face. You could barely see his face in the darkness, the dying fire and the moon’s reflection on the water your only light. The warm red glow of the fire covered one side of his face and twinkled in his eyes.

You cupped his face, stroking your thumb on his adorable round cheeks. Namjoon closed his eyes and snuggled into your hand, letting out a small sigh. His hands rested on you lower back, his fingers drawing small lazy circles. You turned and kissed his cheek gently, closing your eyes too.

***

You weren’t aware of it, but you’d fallen asleep like that on top of him. When you woke up in the morning, you were still laying on top of him, your face turned in toward his neck, your cheek on his shoulder. Your hand rested over his heart, feeling his steady heartbeat, and you rose and fell gently with his breathing. Namjoon was still asleep, but his hands were where you’d last felt them, on your lower back.

He must’ve felt you stirring, because started Namjoon waking up slowly, too. You heard his deep sigh-moan as he stretched his muscles, and when he realized what was on top of his body and under his hands, he smiled lazily, bringing his arms up to squeeze you in a lazy hug.

“Good morning, baby,” he said, his husky voice so deep from his sleep.

You pulled yourself up, sitting up and straddling him as you stretched your arms. The ocean seemed louder today, the waves nearby crashing on the shore. The breeze was just a little stronger than normal, but the sun was bright, not a cloud in the sky.

You looked down at Namjoon and saw him staring at your breasts, mouth all but watering, eyes darkening from lust already.

“I see you staring,” you smirked, rolling your eyes.

“I wasn’t hiding it,” he said, matching your playful tone but still not taking his eyes off you chest. His hands rested on your thighs, holding you in place where you straddled him, his thumbs drawing small circles on your hipbones.

“I slept on you last night,” you said then after a moment. “I’m sorry.”

“No,” he said quickly, looking up at you. “Don’t be sorry. Do it again, as much as you want.”

“Really?” you asked, incredulous. “It doesn’t bother you, having a person laying on top of you as you sleep?”

“It feels amazing. Kind of comforting, too. And not to be rude, because I know talking about weight is a bad thing for a lot of girls, but you barely weigh anything and I love feeling you on top of me,” he said, his eyes so dark and intense and loving and playful all at once.

You shifted. You knew you didn’t weigh nothing, but hearing that he loved feeling you on top of him made your heart flutter.

You knew where this conversation was going, and you cut it off before it got there. You had shit to do today before more fucking.

“All right, we need to get up,” you said.

Namjoon groaned, his hands on your thighs gently massaging you. “Why?” he whined.

“We need to eat breakfast so we can keep our strength up, and I want to take a coconut milk bath at the spring.”

Namjoon’s eyes lit up. “Can I–”

“Yes, you can join me,” you said before he could finish.

Namjoon sat up, kissing you deeply and wrapping his arms around you.

***

After breakfast, your bath at the spring consisted of ten percent bathing and ninety percent fucking in the water. You wrapped your legs around him and he thrust up into you, holding onto your hair and pulling your body closer to his.

Namjoon carried you back to your shelter bridal-style, both of you giggling the whole way. When you got there, Namjoon fucked you on your hands and knees, his hand resting on your lower spine as he thrust into you savagely, his hips smacking against your ass so hard it sounded like he was spanking you. He did actually spank you at one point with his hand, and you came near instantly at the feeling.

After that, he laid you down and got down beside you on his side, propping himself up on one arm and looking down at you as you laid on your back. He leaned in and kissed you while his free hand moved down your stomach, his fingers playing with your curls as you spread your legs for him.

You gasped when he stroked your folds, and he smiled, sighing as he looked down at your face. You bit your lip and barely held in a groan as he curled two fingers into your soaking heat.

“You look so fucking beautiful like this,” he groaned. You held onto his wrist with both hands, feeling his tendons moving as he pumped his fingers inside you.

The two of you just laid there, Namjoon fucking you with his fingers and watching you as you reacted, moaning and writhing. His thumb circled your clitoris, pressing hard and moving slowly. You felt his erection against the side of your leg, and he seemed to be holding himself back, not wanting to lose control of himself but already so desperate for friction.

“Please, Namjoon, please,” you moaned, hips rolling, trying to fuck yourself on his hand. “I need you.”

“I’m here,” he murmured, leaning in and kissing the corner of your mouth as your lips fell open, breathing roughly as you felt yourself drawing close. “Let me take care of you, baby.” His fingers picked up their pace and you gasped, coming with a long, breathy moan.

Namjoon almost came just from watching your face in pleasure and feeling you squeezing his fingers. He quickly pulled out and moved on top of you, and even as you gasped for oxygen, you brought you legs up around him, wanting him, wanting this. You cried out when he slid into you, and he brought his fingers up to his mouth and sucked them as he started bucking his hips, desperate to finish himself off.

He held himself up higher off you, not trapping you and keeping you immobile with his body so that this time he could look down at your breasts bouncing with each quick, hard thrust. You arched your back, giving him an even better view and presenting your breasts to him like a gift, and you moaned and squeezed his cock purposefully and brought your legs higher up around him. Namjoon’s breath caught in his throat, his mouth agape and eyes nearly rolling back as he spilled himself into you, his thrusts sloppy and erratic.

Namjoon let out an agonized moan that almost sounded like your name before collapsing on top of you. You held him there with your legs, stroking his hair with one hand and resting the other on his shoulder. You loved feeling him on top of you just as much as he did you.

When he had the strength, he rolled both of you so that he was on his back and you were on top of him, just like how you’d slept. You leaned up about halfway, but Namjoon moved both his hands to your breasts and you stopped. He basically just supported your weight with his hands as he felt you, massaging slowly and watching your flesh between his fingers as he squeezed and kneaded you, your hard nipples against his palms.

You moaned, closing your eyes, and Namjoon lowered you down so that one of his hands was still on your breast while the other held you up by your shoulder and his mouth moved to your nipple, sucking and licking and biting.

After a moment, Namjoon suddenly pushed you up so that you were upright, and then pulled you forward by your thighs. He moved you around his arms and you let him, Namjoon moving your whole body like you were nothing. He positioned you so that you were straddling his face, and you gasped when you felt his tongue moving along your folds, surprised by all he’d just done but immediately tangling your fingers in his hair when you felt him sliding his tongue inside you.

You tilted you head back and closed your eyes, trying to spread your legs even further as Namjoon tried pulling you down on his face harder, both his hands on your ass as he sucked your cunt and fucked you with his tongue, making it rigid for you as you ground down against his face. You could hear him moaning against your pussy, the waves hitting the shore, the obscene slurping noise he always made when he sucked you dry, but there was something else you were hearing, too.

You suddenly froze as you listened, realizing this sound was something new. Namjoon kept going, unaware, but you looked out at the water, biting your lip to hold in a moan.

Out in the distance, a huge ship sat just on the horizon, and your heart skipped a beat when you saw it and realized you weren’t hallucinating. You thought you could see shipping containers on it, and the whole thing had to be the size of a football field. A small inflatable boat with a motor was headed directly for you, and would probably be here in a few minutes, its motor a quiet buzz in the distance.

“Namjoon!” you said, quickly moving off of him and jumping to your feet outside the shelter.

“What..?” he said, dazed, lost in his lust, looking only at you, still laying there on his back. His cock was half hard against his stomach already, his mouth, chin, and cock all glistening from your wetness. You grabbed your dress from its spot hanging on a tree nearby and quickly pulled it on, and Namjoon must’ve looked over and seen the ship and boat too because he started pulling on his boxers as fast as he could, jumping to his feet as well.

You both ran down to the surf, making yourselves much more visible to the people on the smaller boat, waving your arms. You were jumping up and down in your joy, holding onto Namjoon’s arm as you tried to hold in your tears, looking back and forth between him and the boat. Namjoon was grinning ear to ear, moving to hold your hand as he waved his other arm wildly at the smaller boat. You looked up and saw him tearing up too, and when he realized you were looking at him, he turned and kissed you, both of you barely able to press your lips together from smiling so wide.

The boat reached your shore a few minutes later. A cargo ship on its way to New Zealand had seen your fire earlier that morning, and had finally made its way to you after preparing its small rescue boat. You really really hoped they hadn’t seen any of what the two of you had been doing that morning in your lean-to, if they’d been looking at the beach with binoculars or something like that.

The three men on the speedboat had shock blankets and water bottles for the two of you, one of them realizing who you were and saying that the two of you had made big news all over the world the past few weeks. You and Namjoon gathered up your scarce belongings, each carrying the remainders of your clothes, and were escorted onto the little boat to be taken over to the ship.

As you sat in the back of the boat together, you in your faded, torn party dress and Namjoon in his boxers and his unbuttoned, worn-out dress shirt, the two of you cuddled close together, sharing one shock blanket. Namjoon closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against your temple, smiling softly.

“We made it, sweetheart. We’re safe,” he murmured against your cheek before kissing you there. He could tell you were nervous being out on the water again, so he held you close to him, his arm around you and nose nuzzling your cheek.

You tried to stop yourself from crying, but holy shit, you were saved. You weren’t going to die on that island. You were both safe and healthy, and you were together.

#btssmutclub #namjoon smut #bts smut #namjoon #kim namjoon #bts scenario #kim namjoon scenario #namjoon scenario #rm scenario #rm smut #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #marnie text #my writing #i wanted to write some fuckin on a beach and accidentally wrote a fully developed short story

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thedistrictroleplay · 3 years

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TRIGGER WARNINGS: none?

TIMELINE:

1950s- The Acosta family migrates from Puerto Rico to Miami.

1970s- The Acosta family forms the Acosta Group, a realty firm with holdings all across the Americas.

1989- Michael Acosta (Aly’s older brother) is born.

1991- Alycia Acosta “Aly” is born to Manny and Amy Acosta in Miami Florida.

2007- Aly wins her first Women's WSL World Tour at only 15.

2008- Aly and Nick’s relationship begins at Camp Walt Whitman (summer), Aly and Nick visit D.C. for Nick’s mock UN event (October), Aly visits Nick in NY for Christmas / NYE.

2009- Nick visits Aly in Miami for prom, Aly visits Nick in NY for prom, Nick and Aly break up at the end of their senior year. Aly starts college at The University of Miami. Aly meets Ben in English class and they begin dating.

2011- Aly and Ben break up because Aly finds out Ben is married with a baby. She probably tries to murder his lying, cheating ass.

2014- Aly moves to NY to attend Columbia.

2015- Aly and Nick blackout and wake up married.

2016- Aly graduates from Columbia and begins working for the Acosta Group. Her work takes her all over the Americas as she opens regional offices for the firm. When she isn’t obligated to travel for work she splits her time between Miami and wherever Nick is.

2020- Aly’s abuela dies. There is a power shift within the Acosta Group. Her brother Michael assumes more responsibility and influence. Aly collects a lofty inheritance.

2021- Aly opens the Acosta Group’s office in D.C. and decides to stay as the regional director for the North Eastern United States.

BIOGRAPHY:

During the Great Migration of the 1950′s, the Acosta family moved from San Juan, Puerto Rico to Miami, Florida where they started their real estate business; The Acosta Group. They dominated the Miami market of luxury residential and commercial property, all while raising six children. Once their children were grown, each one assumed an integral role in the company that allowed the business to expand up the East Coast. The eldest, Manny, assumed the role of C.E.O in the 1980′s and fostered the company into the real estate empire that it is today.

Only one thing superseded Manny’s ambition, and that was his faith. The Acosta family were devote Catholics, which is what prompted Manny to marry Amy Wilson just a few months before the couple welcomed their first child into the world. A son they named Michael, after Manny’s father. It was a loveless marriage, but Manny didn’t believe in divorce and Amy had much to gain financially from the arrangement. Their second child was just as much of a surprise as the first, however quickly became her father’s favorite.

Alycia Camila Acosta was born August 2nd, 1991 on the hottest day Miami had seen in a decade. Nicknamed Aly by her brother. No one loved her more. Michael took his role as a big brother seriously. Before Aly could walk he taught her to swim, and she quickly began following in his every foot step. He protected her from feeling unloved in a household where their father always worked, and their mother preferred social clubs to raising children. They took care of one another, and it was obvious that there was no one else more important to either than each other.

While Amy exhausted every effort to live the life she had always dreamed of through her daughter, Aly resisted at every turn. She purposely preformed poorly in pageants, and sang off key in choir. The only thing she indulged Amy on was camp Walt Whitman, an illustrious summer camp in New England, and only because her brother went along too. It was a place she should’ve been grateful to attend, but by eleven Aly only wanted to spend summers in the ocean. She’d learned to surf alongside Michael, and possessed a natural talent and great skill on the board. Even before high school she began competing, and at only sixteen Aly won her first Women's WSL World Tour.

It wasn’t the kind of accolade Amy had in mind for her daughter, but as long as she kept her grades up the Acostas allowed it. Academia was easy for the brunette, even as she attended Miami’s most prestige Catholic schools. She excelled from the start, especially in math, and skipped a grade in middle school. With extra curricular activities and academics Aly kept busy, but it wasn’t her schedule that kept her from dating. Rather, the obscenely strict rules her parents enforced, and while Michael was usually always Aly’s advocate, on this he seemed to agree with them.

The summer before her senior year Aly fell unexpectedly for her long time camp Walt Whitman friend, Nicholas Vanderbilt. His family’s notoriety made him an acceptable candidate for her parent’s exceedingly high expectations, and the twelve hundred miles of distance between Miami and New York City eased their worries about any inappropriate conduct. While Aly truly did love Nick it was incredibly difficult for her to imagine an immediate future with someone so far a way. After making a pact to get married at 40 if they were both still single the pair parted ways before college.

At The University of Miami Aly studied business. It was a well established precedent amongst the Acosta that every member of the family contributed to The Acosta Group, even though for her that just meant a figurehead role. Michael bore the brunt of their parent’s business expectations, and therefor all the responsibility. For which Aly was extremely grateful because her interests were strictly surfing and social. During undergrad Aly won two more Women's WSL World Tours, and was a frequent but casual dater. She struggled to find someone with whom she shared real passion and was starting to wonder if she’d already had her one, epic love until she met him. Bennett Ryan Brody. Aly was falling in love before she even realized what was happening. Head over heels, stupid in love with every six foot and five inches of him. If it wasn’t enough to look and fuck like an actual god he strung words together more brilliant than any symphony she’d ever heard. Maybe it was kismet that, for as hot as their love burned, it all ended in flames.

Eager to put some distance between herself all the heart break that had happened in Miami, Aly accepted Columbia’s invitation to attend grad school in New York. Her MBA was really just a formality, but she loved life in the city. It was strange place, but familiar enough with her long time friend and ex, Nick, also living there. The lines of friendship had always been blurry for them, and their relationship grew even more complicated when Aly and Nick blackout exchanged vows. A divorce was messier than either family wanted, especially with Nick’s budding legal career. So, they agreed to stay married and try to make things work. Which they did, for a little while, but then they both graduated and work got in the way.

Long distance wasn’t unfamiliar to either party, but it certainly wasn’t desired. Aly spent years after grad school opening offices for the Acosta group up and down The Americas, which left them with no other options. She would visit whenever she was close to wherever Nick was working, but it was inevitable that they both began to see other people. Unsurprisingly, Aly couldn’t commit to anything serious. Her list of one night stands longer than she cared to admit because a part of her would always feel guilty. A part of her would always feel like Nick’s.

In the Spring of 2020 Aly’s abuela, the largest shareholder of the Acosta group, passed away. The disbursement of shares and funds created a power shift within the company. Aly inherited a lofty sum that came with a legal reminder of her marriage to Nick and their lack of a prenup. Her older brother Michael assumed more responsibility and influence, which later resulted in his promotion to the Acosta Group’s CEO. With her brother calling all the shots Aly had more control over her life. After opening the D.C. branch of The Acosta Group she requested a permanent position in its office as the regional director for the company’s North Eastern division. The stability comes with proximity to friends and a relationship she’s hoping to figure alongside questions Aly has about herself. Her travels changed her, even if she’s not quite sure how yet.

Aly is written by Ash.

#district character bio.#c; aly acosta #victoria justice fc #pronouns; she/her #residence; upper northwest #writer; ash

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hatilead · 3 years

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A timeline of all the bad, not so good, very horrible, points of trauma in James Norrington his life; ( as brought by your favourite binch who doesn’t give a fuck about dis/ney canon. ) trigger warnings for child abuse do apply here as well as for mental health topics / ptsd !

please note that basically none of these are ‘canon’ ( but ask me if I care )

Age 4 the death of his mother; he doesn’t remember much of her, only radiating warmth and the faint smell of lavender. Hands try to hold air / the memory of her slipping ever further, yet it is her name which burns upon his tongue when he feels alone even years after the loss of her. None of the nannies or other members of staff had the heart nor the skill to explain to the boy why his mother would not rise from her bed, perhaps they considered it a task for his father. Lawrence Norrington never did properly explain to James the meaning of death, he had to figure out on his own that she was not miraculously coming back to him ever again.

Age 5 after being knocked off a ship and into the ocean, James was rescued by Teague, while a near-death experience for a boy of that age is shocking enough, it was made worse by the words of his father who stated that he would rather have seen his son drown than be rescued by pirates 1

Age 12 his first steps with the navy which weren’t on Lawrence Norrington’s side, while the reputation of the Admiral surely helped young James in gaining respect amongst some of the seniors on board, it was also the cause of envy within those just as skilled but with the misfortune of being someone else their son. His name gave him more power than a boy his age ever could carry / even when his back had been straightened by the hands of his father long before he ever set foot on a ship. The truth about life, however, is that a reputation cannot protect a twelve-year-old boy from the horrors of the world. Especially when a world is as small as a ship of the line.

Age 13 the first time a man died in his arms. A reckless child with a tendency to hold the wounded; unfamiliar with receiving comfort, yet the giving of it came more natural than anything else ever seemed to do.

Age 15 fragile still, blurry around his own edges, yet allowed to serve on a Third Rate ship of the line. War, a familiar taste upon his tongue now, reckless in battle and skilled with a sword. Death did not mean a thing to him / hollow eyes and a tendency to collapse into himself when there was no gunfire on the horizon. War might have been the thing he was raised with, yet nothing could have prepared him for the horrors of it so close.

Age 18 receives a promotion to lieutenant. Either ‘bought’ by his father or by his own skill. It doesn’t matter; he is more than adequate to carry the burden that comes with command. Mature for his age, even in the hard times where boys become men far before their time. No one asks if he has ever had a childhood to begin with. He wouldn’t answer the question even if it did fall from another lieutenant’s lips during a game of cards / he would pray that the other lieutenant was unable to read the answer like a shimmer of sadness in his green eyes if he was to look up and the orange glow of candlelight would catch it just right. no.

#ix. WORDS THAT THE WATER SPOKE ( norrington : headcanon )#child abuse //#abuse //#emotional abuse //#gaslighting //#mental health mention //#i. LEAVE A MESSAGE AT THE BEEP ( queue. )

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thatnaruhinaanon · 3 years

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NaruHina Socmed AU

It wasn’t even 8:30 a.m. yet and Temari already couldn’t wait for this day to be over. Pacing quickly down the main hall of the Surgical ward, she hurried towards the reception desk where a small gathering of three men was waiting resolutely for her.

“Ms. Shizune, thank you so much for texting me” she told the kind-looking middle-aged woman that was seated on the other side of the desk with a respectful bow, before instantly scolding the two youngest guests.

“I suppose you guys are the two students from Kurenai University that are supposed to be starting their discovery program today?” She hurled, the young men instinctively taking a step back, too startled to do anything else but vigorously nod their heads. “It’s 8:30 a.m. and you were supposed to meet me here at 8:15 a.m.; do you believe that this is a good way to start your time with us?”

Again, they didn’t say a word and simply shook their heads, the smaller of the two looking promptly terrified. Temari sighed. Those medical students, all the same.

“Let’s say that I’m feeling generous today and that I’ll let you two go off with a warning, alright?” She offered after half a minute of awkward silence, once she was certain that they had been shaken up enough to arrive on time the next day.

They didn’t look anything particular or especially bright, which was to be expected from some Kurenai University students: the smaller one, with his elongated facial features, had the face of a dog and smelled like one, although the his companion with the sunglasses and the stern face did seem a bit less slow than his classmate.

Behind them, a blond silhouette moved slightly, and Temari finally acknowledged the presence of the third individual, very poorly hiding behind the small student, and leaned to the side to hail him.

Damn Kurenai University. Classic them to send over three students but warn them only about two.

“Hey!” She practically yelled, making the blond man jump in surprise, “Aren’t you too old to still be a third-year medical student? How many times have you retaken your exams?”

It was true that he looked at the very least ten years older than Temari and the two latecomers but, if this job had taught her anything, it was that you could never tell a doctor from their face. Caught unprepared, the man straightened up behind Dumb #1 and started to stammer, his ears crimson red.

“Ah, hmm, only once, I swear ma’am, but actually, I’m n-”

“I don’t care”, cut him short Temari, already annoyed enough as it was, “Keep your excuses to yourself, we’re late enough already as it!” And with this, she turned around and walked away, only looking over her shoulder to signal the three to start following her. “Come on people, let’s go! We’ve got a lot to see this morning and not nearly enough time so, let’s not lose another minute!”

Hastily, she headed for the main corridor and immediately started her tour, not slowing down even the slightest to allow them to catch up with her.

“My name is Suna Temari, and I’m a third-year resident in general surgery” she said, introducing herself. “You three are going to be spending the week in the Surgical ward to discover the general surgery specialization. Then, next Monday, I will be delighted to send you guys to another ward and hope I’ll never have to see your faces again but, until then, I will be your point of contact here! Please do your best to not be a nuisance to anyone here and if, by any miracle, a doctor brings you along on an operation, confine yourselves to watching in silence from a distance.”

She abruptly stopped in the middle of the hallway for dramatic effect, and spun around to scrutinize the three newcomers.

“Did I make myself clear?” She queried, her threatening earning her an ocean of head nods again. She smiled. “Perfect. Now, let’s…”

“Hmm, Ms. Suna?” Interrupted her the blond who was still hiding behind the small Dumb #1, “My apologies but I think that-”

Temari rolled her eyes, irritated. Not only had he the audacity to arrive late on his day, but he also never kept his mouth shut. “Do you know how rude it is to interrupt your senior, Mister-”

“Ah, Dr. Uzumaki! So nice to see you again!”

Emerging from the surgical ward’s staff room where Temari was taking her group, Doctor Akimichi, a chubby and debonair man who neared his forties started walking towards them with a big smile, his hand already reaching out to shake the blond’s man one, relief visible on his face. In shock, Temari blinked, horrified.

“Temari, let me introduce you to our new general surgeon, Doctor Uzumaki Naruto, who arrives from the Uzushio Hospital! Dr. Uzumaki, this is Temari, our only and brilliant intern! I can assure you that you won’t find any kinder or smarter resident in the building!”

“Are you sure about that?” Mumbled said Dr. Uzumaki as he left the group to shake Dr. Akimichi’s hand, his eyes throwing daggers to the young woman who felt like she had become a pillar of salt. The new general surgeon. She had yelled at the new general surgeon. She had…

Temari could have died of shame on the spot.

Bowing down so low that she thought her nose was going to hit the linoleum of the floor, Temari waited for the two men to have left for Dr. Akimichi’s office to dare raise her head back up. Behind her, Dumb #1 displayed a contemptuous smile on his face.

“Listen to me, you two”, she warned them in a whisper, and they both stood to attention, any hint of teasing vanished from their now serious faces, the blushing of her cheeks burning her pale skin, “A word about this to anyone and I’ll make your lives here a living hell.”

[Part 2]

#NaruHina #Socmed AU #naruhina socmed au #naruto Uzumaki #hinata hyuga

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indestinatus · 4 years

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tiva fanfiction author recommendations plz I need some good tiva to read

OKAY SO

This has been sitting in my inbox for a couple of days because I had to think SO HARD about my favorite authors and I was sure I would forget some of them. I started reading fanfiction almost ten years ago, so a lot of the titles and names have been lost in my memory by now. There are some more recent stories (which the authors are active) and the ones I get back to reread, so I’ll list those. Some works are still in progress. Here are some of my favorite tiva stories in no particular order:

Christmas Meeting by @beatrixacs [M, 368,073 word count, in progress]

Christmas 2015. Prague, Czech Republic. An unexpected meeting between two former co-workers after more than two years from their parting in Israel that will make them realize that their feelings towards each other are stronger than before. But will they do anything about it? And what does the future look like for them? AU Season 13.

Kissing Deal by @beatrixacs [M, 247,815 word count, complete]

Tony and Ziva are posing as a married couple in a hotel for a week to keep an eye on another married couple that is involved in their last case and to find some evidence against them. As a part of marital necessities they make a deal about kisses. Will they finally find their way to each other thanks to it?

a crawl to cross the distance by @benditlikepress [M, 6,258 word count, complete]

Tony and Ziva’s first date ended up happening 15 years after they first met, 5 years and 7 months after their daughter was born, and just over a month after they were reunited for good.

leave before the lights come on by @benditlikepress [M, 9,049 word count, complete]

The night before Ziva is assigned to NCIS, she crosses paths with one member of the team in a bar. Set between Kill Ari Pt 2 and Silver War.

That We May Forgive by @justkindaoverhereobsessing [G, 12,875 word count, complete]

Ziva's second pregnancy is nothing like her first (makes a comparison between Tali’s pregnancy and a second child in the DiNozzo family)

We Are an Ocean by @justkindaoverhereobsessing [M, 120,164 word count, in progress]

The first time they sleep together, it's easy. It makes sense, partners transitioning to friends and maybe friends with benefits. Letting emotions in, though? That might be a different story (tiva sleeping together and the repercussions of it throughout the episodes)

Heat wave by jelenamichel [M, 24,685 word count, complete]

What was it they said about excessive heat having an effect on a person's ability to think clearly? A heat wave in DC brings the tension between two agents to boiling point.

Famiglia by jelenamichel [T, 83,903 word count, complete]

When DiNozzo Senior's health takes a hit Tony finds out about long-kept secrets and lies. His life begins to change as his two families collide, and he battles with who he wants to be versus the man he seems destined to become.

I See You by @storywriter30 [T, 8,491 word count, complete]

And suddenly, it is the Fall of 2009 and he is seeing her for the first time again. All of her strength, all of her scars, all of their history, lay bare in front of him (Tony finds Ziva is alive in Paris).

The Liaison by @hundan [E, 28,470 word count, in progress]

Some days it's hard to remember why it is you do your job, this was highly evident today for Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo. When he left Gibbs, his boss, in the motherland to take a overseas deployment to Israel he thought the whole thing would be an experience of a lifetime. Maybe he was wrong, but maybe he was right. AU

The Past Forgotten by @hundan [T, 75,315 word count, complete]

"I'm sorry, I don't know you" Tony said, simply. Like that one single comment hadn't ripped her heart out and stomped all over it. She was his partner, she's not meant to be forgotten by him of all people.

Hoping for Happiness by @jaelke421 [M, 265,887 word count, complete]

Tiva romance. Chronicles their transition from friends to something more. Departs canon after Child's Play. Warning: Mention of rape and torture.

Cold Tiles and Warm Air by @factoffictionwriter [M, 3,658 word count, complete]

But staring? It just wasn't her thing. Touching, kissing, stroking… these were all forms of intimacy she could get behind. But leave her to look - just look, not touch - and she typically grew antsy. Or worse: Bored. Tag 11x02. Bitter Sweet.

Family Second by @factoffictionwriter [M, 26,865 word count, complete]

Alternate ep 13x24. The team gets ahold of Ziva before the mortar attack. Follows along with the storyline of the episode for the most part. A true to character AU of sorts.

holding on (and letting go) by @thewintersoldierdisaster [G, 1,322 word count, complete]

Tony and Ziva are reunited again. Set in S17.

Cool Hand Luke by @thewintersoldierdisaster [G, 1,959 word count, complete]

Tony and Tali spend Ziva's birthday in Paris.

Of Plenty by Strawberry Shortcake123 [M, 28,748 word count, complete]

While celebrating their reinstatement as NCIS agents, Tony and Ziva drink too much and go too far. They decide to put the night behind them- until Ziva finds out that she is pregnant.

Treasure Map by @belletylers [T, 11,285 word count, complete]

"Tony had always considered himself fairly good at finding people who were missing. Especially if those people were Ziva." Tony and Tali go to Paris, searching for Ziva after the events of 13x24.

A Helping Hand by @loudlooks [M, 16,928 word count, complete]

Ziva comes up with a creative solution to help Tony, who refuses to take painkillers after injuring both arms.

Something I Left Behind by @aksannyi [E, 5,894 word count, complete]

This is a missing scene from Past, Present, Future, which explains how Tali came to be. Yes, the M rating is there for a reason. This is angsty, given the nature of the episode it comes from.

Under Pressure by @aksannyi [E, 4,338 word count, complete]

She didn't need to kiss him then, but she did, and suddenly they were no longer pretending. Tony and Ziva learn a lot about each other while they're under cover. Tag to 3x08, Under Covers.

Treading Water by Mechabeira [T, 191,744 word count, complete]

"You can still swim, can't you? You're going to have to tow her in, DiNozzo. We aren't going to let her just tread water."

There are so so so many more great authors out there, so I’ll list their FF.net and AO3 pages (the ones I can remember): Zays, jae-vous, brightblue, Anonymous033, Strawberry Shortcake123, AliyahNCIS, quotelation (@quotelation), McGeekle (@mcgeekle), LittleSammy, pro-bee (@pro-bee), xoxonessie (@xoxonessie), alacarton (@ahtlolevad-fics) and MANY OTHERS THAT I SURELY FORGOT (for that I’m sorry, but I tried my best).

Please feel free to fangirl with me about all those stories (haha I’m always opened to that) and to click in their accounts to see more great ones!! I just linked some I like most, but there are authors who wrote about 20-50 tiva stories with the same quality I linked it here. Be sure to check their profiles out!!

ALSO IMPORTANT TIP

From someone who loves tiva fanfiction, the works about it are scattered throughout more than a decade, so there’s A LOT (a lot, no joke) of good fanfiction both on FF.net and AO3. Some of the authors are still active on Tumblr, and if you like someone’s type of posts, try to ask them if they wrote something (what I love here is that most people active on the fandom eventually turn into writers) or even if they haven’t I’m sure they would recommend some great ones!

I hope I could help you somehow, and I’m sure Anthony DiNozzo and Ziva David will still have a lot of new authors to cherish them, their story is not over yet.

thanks, anon!! xoxo Sofia

#tiva fanfiction #fic rec #sofia rambles about fics #i'm sure that are many many many more that i didn't include because i'm dumb #and forgot about it #that i sure love #but i really tried to bring some good ones #anyway thank you for the question anon!!!#this made me see HOW OLD I AM #following these two idiots since god knows when #THEY HAVE MY HEART OK #ask

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crazyclownthanos · 3 years

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Nereida Silva

“I was told to listen and watch, I was taught to fight”

Character information

Nereida Silva is a nobleman and the first daughter of the Clover Kingdom’s main branch House Silva, one of its royal families. She is also a 4th class senior magic knight of the Black Bull squad.

Nereida comes from the Greek origin meaning “sea nymph”

Personal information

Status: alive

Species: human

Gender: female

Affinity: water magic

Age: 15

Birthday: October 16th

Constellation: Libra

Height: 162cm

Blood type: A

Eyes: yellow

Hair: silver

Affiliation

Occupation: magic knight

Squad: Black Bulls

Country: Clover Kingdom

Appearance

Nereida is a slightly bulky young lady with fair skin, wide yellow eyes, and small eyebrows. Iike any other Silva Nereida has a wavy silver hair. She has a fringe that swoops a little bit up at the end. She keeps her hair tied up and pins up her hair with bobby pins (with the Silva family cross of course) along with a few strands of hair sticking up. Of course Nereida wears the signature black bulls robe that drapes over her left shoulder connected to a purple cord. Nereida wears a white blouse long sleeve wearing a golden necklace among blue jewels (the same necklace Acier wore in her portrait) below the necklace is another black cord necklace the main centrepiece is the golden Silva family cross. Nereida rocks a one buttoned blue jacket, for the one button it is a golden Silva family cross similar to Nereida’s second necklace. On her head she wears brown leather gloves. The length reaches to her hips. On the back of the jacket there is a symbol of a dragon shimmering their wings. She also wears high raised plain blue shorts. Nereida likes wearing white lace victorian high heels length up to her lower calf with small detail of white calla lillies. She has also been seen wearing pearl earrings, very expensive ones given to her after her birth.

Personality

Nereida is a cunning and pleasant women of her time. Often trusting herself with her long range of knowledge and physical capabilities. Most people see Nereida as a young lady who follows the rules and referred by many the perfect royal however Nereida is a leader, pointing out the flaws of others, not afraid of showing emotions and definitely an independent women of such class.

Childhood

Over the years house Silva has sky rocketed in terms of strength and magic power, due to their intense training Haskell Silva, Josslyn Silva and herself have been participating, perfecting magic for at least 8 years and still continue to do even in their duties of being magic knights. Meaning Nereida never had the chance of being a kid and spending time with her little brother.

Battle powers

Magic

Water magic: utilising Nereus’s water magic Nereida can generate and manipulate water at large masses

Sea Creation magic: Nereida can use creation magic to create water based or coral based tools in all sizes

Ocean manipulation: Nereus is responsible for bringing the ocean resulting in Nereida to control the entire ocean and create sea bed temples

Dragon magic: Nereida can transform into Nereus’s dragon form and sometime could appear with dragon features. Primarily her left dragon eye appears the most

Abilities

Immense magic power: As a royal, Nereida possess an immense amount of magic power. To scale the amount of magic power she carries is too bizarre. She can create fields of oceans and manipulate the cells to attack any enemies. From a young age she has been taught to be an attack, defensive and healing mage having spells of all ranges. At the age of 15 most senior knights have pointed out that Nereida could of already surpassed her grandmother, Acier Silva.

Enhanced speed: out of all the Silva’s Nereida is the fastest. Running not a nearly as close as light speed but at speed that can leave dust in your eyes.

Smart Magic Sensory: Nereida can sense anyone’s mana from a far radius and in a group of mages Nereida can breakdown and tell the magic amount of each individual mage has

Enhanced Durability: It has been stated numerous times by Ace that Nereida possess a high level of durability due to the harmful injuries she had gotten in the past

Physical Strength: 5/5

Magic amount: 5/5

Magic control: 5/5

Magic sensing: 5/5

Cleverness: 5/5

Manners: 5/5

Equipment

Grimoire: Nereida possess a Jormungandr grimoire where there’s a blue dragon in the center and back wave patterns swim throughout the entire grimoire. Bubble details can be spotted everywhere

Bracelet communication device: Nereida wears a golden bracelet on her right wrist. it is used as a communication device to transmit audio and visual messages as well as a flashlight and to record audio

Trivia

Nereida’s likes are, running around In her corset and riddles

Favourite food is rose pastries

Out of all the black bulls she is the closest to Victoria

Nereida sees Hikari as her biggest inspiration

To other magic knights she is viewed as a “literal angel”

At first Nereida thought Nereus was a girl because of his name

#White Clover #character information #Nereida Silva

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sourbat · 4 years

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A Discussion over Spoons

Characters: Toki Wartooth and Charles Offdensen

Words: 5470

Rating: T

Summary: After the events of Galatikon 2, the members of band are alive and in need of a place to offer them the care they need to heal. Charles is unconvinced that Magnus has what it takes to provide such a setting for Toki, and attempts to convince the latter with a discussion, using spoons.

Read it online on Ao3 (with added notes explaining spoon theory)

This is technically a Hammertooth! Magnus just isn’t a huge, active force in this one.

It was Salacia’s final curse that he bring down Dethklok with him, wiping each member off the face of the universe, reducing them to nothing, not even stardust. Though he failed in their literal destruction, the damage they received from saving the world assured Dethklok would never perform again, effectively “killing” the band, and dooming each member to a life of normalcy, and eventual obscurity. Before that though, there was the important question as to whom would be charged with looking after the injured heroes. There were ruptured vocal chords to consider, arms broken in several places, and crushed hands filled with splintered bones, and Mordhaus and its hospital had been burned to the ground. While most general hospitals were more than willing to accept a savior in their wing, the aftermath of their victory left most places understaffed and overwhelmed, and the injuries each man had received was nothing to scoff at. Bunching them together in one location was not possible.

Charles and the church immediately offered their support, and the band almost considered it, but then a call from the Explosions and Abigail had Nathan second-guessing, and Skwisgaar, despite being in far worse condition than the others, commented on wishing to go to regular hospital with a female staff.

They soon decided that all would go their separate ways for healing, taking refuge in whatever space they considered to be “home.” Nathan and Murderface would return to their respective families, and would visit the other whenever possible, to ensure the other’s sanity. Skwisgaar would go to whatever hospital was located within 15 miles of a sorority or a senior living community (he had no preference), and Charles would look after Pickles while simultaneously finding new ways to block the drummer’s mother from her insistent, passive-aggressive calls, demanding to know why her son didn’t think his family was “good enough” to look after him.

Toki didn’t have to think about where he would he go, because shortly after waking up from his coma he was told he’d always have a home if he needed one, and he’d never have to worry about paying rent or anything because he saved the world so it’s forever “on the house”–and then Toki groaned for more morphine–but even in his drugged-up haze he remembered Magnus going on and adding to a list of reasons why his place was always open to him. When Charles approached him, asking if he’d like to come along with him and Pickles, or maybe share a hospital room with Skwisgaar, Toki politely refused, instead slurring out Magnus’ address to his ex-manager, smiling at the fuzzy lights, the funny way Charles looked at him once he said it, and the even funnier way Charles pushed up his glasses, asking Toki if he was sure. Absolutely sure? Quite positive? Agreeable? And what about Nathan? Abigail? Murderface? Skwisgaar? Anyone else? Anyone in Norway he could rely on? Any friends? No, not Rockso, but someone else? Someone who can handle the stress?

Anyone, but Magnus?

---

Toki stared at the line of small, silver teaspoons laid out before him in the private office that had been set aside for this occasion. Across from him, Charles sat, hands cupped and covering a portion of his mouth as he glanced down at the same spoons, awaiting a specific command before making his move. Toki didn’t say it, but just knowing what Charles was going to do made him nervous, and he was hesitant to speak out of fear that their game would end sooner than later.

But he knew, no matter what, those eight spoons would vanish faster than he was prepared for.

“Well,” Charles sharply announced, eyes narrowing on Toki.

“Uhm, wells,” Toki replied, instinctually raising his right hand, only to writhe and lurch forward in his seat once the metal rods holding it together stabbed at his nerves with a complimentary reminder of their presence. Charles’s hand appeared in his peripheral, gently rubbing Toki’s side, distracting him from some of the pain that shot up and wracked his strained nerves and muscles with sharp contractions.

“Left hand,” Charles gently reminded Toki. “Don’t forget, you’re a lefty until further notice.”

“Keeps forgettin,” Toki complained.

“Feeling better?” Charles asked, expression unwavering as he observed Toki’s crushed hand. Even with the cast and added coverings, it was an unbecoming sight, and it seemed like no amount of prescription painkillers offered to any of the guitarists could completely rid of the pain they suffered. “I can get you something,” Charles said, knowing deep down the implications of such an empty promise.

Toki shook his left hand. “No, ams good.”

“You sure?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Well, then. That’s one,” Charles said, picking up a spoon and placing it aside as he settled back into his seat.

Toki blinked, mouth turning crookedly agape as he stared at the empty space where his eighth spoon once rested. “Buts I didn’t evens do anything,” he complained, raising his head up to Charles.

Charles sighed. “You’re in pain, Toki.”

Toki jerked in his seat. He winced, but wore that look that suggested a desire to kick something was there. Charles could tell a tantrum might be in order today, and kept that thought pinned high on the list of things he’d need to account for today. Medications. Moving things aside to make his home more wheelchair accessible. Toki having a fit.

“Yeah,” Toki angrily proclaimed, “buts you saids any actions I performs that affects Magnus–”

“And would your suffering not cause him to react?” Charles calmly interrupted, stopping Toki from raising his voice, possibly getting up from his seat too fast, or risking further injury. Charles waited for Toki’s shoulder to drop, and for him to sink back into the supportive cushion. “You saw me react. You claim to know Magnus better than I do, so I’ll let you decide whether you in pain would affect him in any negative manner?”

It would. Charles’ knew Magnus reacted to violence and suffering differently than others, regarding it with a unique peculiarity that Toki couldn’t relate to. It wasn’t that Toki lacked an understanding of the trauma. He did. In fact, based upon his own observations, Charles believed that Toki and Magnus, despite their unique ways of mishandling years of abuse or abandonment, shared enough similarities that realistically meant Toki suffered from the same, if not related, illnesses that Magnus did. Charles was almost willing to bet their trauma came from the same source, but never bothered looking too deep into Magnus’ past to determine if this was true. Charles took pride in understanding the boys better than themselves, and although Magnus was never one of his, he always kept a watchful eye on him ever since the kidnapping. He was that single anomaly, but also a gear in the clock that Charles was forced to acknowledge as being part of a greater plan, but never one who warranted the same respect or care as Toki. Even after completing his role, playing the song that woke Toki and summoned the remaining members from space, to the ocean, Charles could not allot Magnus the same trust he had with the other members of the prophecy.

And he did not trust Magnus with Toki.

Meanwhile, Toki fidgeted uncomfortably in his seat. His arm still smarted, and the back of his head still throbbed whenever the pains from the rest of his body added up too much. He didn’t get how so much body pain could make his brain hurt, only that it did. It was painfully, agonizingly unfair. Like this game.

How was he supposed to know any little thing would mean losing a spoon? Charles said he would only take away the spoons if it mattered a lot. Toki sniffed, sucking up the last bits of the hot, searing tingle that consumed his right side as he counted the remaining seven, and tried to think of a way to earn his eighth spoon back. Surely a little pain wasn’t enough to get Magnus upset? Toki remembered being in similar, albeit more emotional, pain in front of Magnus, and in those times, Magnus he’d out strong. True, they were during a darker, grim part of their shared lives, and Magnus was the one dishing the pain, but it was– it was …not going to work.

And as Toki came to this conclusion, he saw what would realistically happen. If Magnus was willing to argue, fight and threaten doctors for moving him too much, almost getting kicked out of the hospital and put on a “no returns'' list because he couldn’t stand the way they were treating him, and complained about long waits for test results and nurses who didn’t offer up enough codeine, morphine, water, time and empathy, then Magnus would definitely react once he was put in charge of his well being.

If anything, Charles had been kind to only remove one spoon. Toki wondered if Charles knew this, but was only keeping quiet so that the game would last longer.

“Fines,” Toki said with a hushed voice, pouting in dismay at how quickly things were turning against him. “Stupids game.”

“Not a game,” Charles reminded for the umpteenth time. “Again, this isn’t a game Toki, but a reflection of how Magnus’ mind works when off medication.” He saw Toki turn, already prepared to formulate his next argument, then promptly added, albeit callously, “and when faced with high amounts of stress.”

Toki tended to forget the minor details. Charles blamed a short attention span. Everyone in the band suffered from it, but Toki was up there with Murderface when it came to handling important information. To put it simply: if Toki didn’t care about the conversation just seconds prior to the information being let out, then he simply never absorbed it. Toki seemed to understand that Magnus required extra attention and monitoring because he was such a “special case,” but always seemed to forget just how permanent this situation was.

As cruel as it was, Charles needed Toki to understand this now, and in such a way he could easily comprehend. Before, Toki visited Magnus only a few days in a given month, and that number decreased the closer they got to the final hour. As training increased, klokateers revolted, and chaos ensued, those days together went up and down, and in every other direction, but never lasted much longer than a week. Now Toki was requesting to move in, stay with Magnus as a permanent roommate. Toki viewed it as the next big step in healing and quite possibly their relationship, but Charles saw the reality.

They were two glass cannons aimed at one another, each with fuses at various lengths already lit, waiting for that one trigger to set the other off, shattering both in the process.

“Magnus ams less stressed when we talks,” Toki responded, which threw Charles off-guard. He expected a line about medication, about long-term commitment and sobriety. He was prepared for Toki to tell him he wasn’t afraid of Magnus when he blew up, or that he could fend for himself should such an event arise.

For some reason, he didn’t account for communication.

“Very well,” Charles said, settling into a slow blink and navigating a new course through their conversation. “But consider that not all conversations will end with Magnus or you feeling any better. If anything, a conversation may result in additional loss of spoons.”

“That makes no senses?” Toki half-accused, partly questioned.

“Well, what if you insist you’re alright, but he thinks otherwise? Or, what if you tell him he’s doing a good job, but he doesn’t feel that way?” Charles asked, watching Toki squirm. Reading Toki’s mind was easy. Toki made it so easy. Once he showed a moment of weakness, or built a strong sense of trust, anyone with the right mind and wrong set of goals could get Toki to expose just about anything. It was another reason he couldn’t risk Toki leaving his care. Even if Toki claimed Magnus was currently at his best, all Charles could think of was the time Magnus was at his lowest and most desperate. He’d seen the damage Magnus laid out: the bruises, the corneal abrasion, emaciated form, atrophied muscles, and the poorly sewn and infected stab wound. It was a damn shame that Toki forgave it all away, sickening that Toki rekindled a friendship, only to then build something deeper between the two of them. It was a silent act of betrayal Charles never could have predicted, and even now, blamed himself for not being there to protect Toki. No, there wasn’t a single cell in his body that believed Pickles when he claimed Toki “started it,” Murderface when he declared “Magnus ain’t too bad these days,” or Nathan when word got out that “Toki’s definitely the lead,” and finally Skwisgaar’s sad attempt of an excuse when he said, “Toki cans just kills Magnus if he reallies wanted tos.” The boys were all under the impression this was all Toki’s doing, that Toki was in control, but Charles knew it was Magnus. Toki was simply too ignorant, out of control for his own good. Somehow, Magnus manipulated the situation, and he would continue to do so if he let Toki deeper into his life.

“Okays, but if Toki ams really, really honests with hims?” Toki suggested with a childish demeanor. “Maybes if he knows Toki ams in pain, but will be okays in a few minutes, he won’t gets so stressed outs?”

“Be prepared to lose a spoon,” Charles answered plainly, ignoring Toki’s miserable expression when he gave a stiff, hurtful nod as a response.

Charles pointed at the row of spoons. Frowning, Toki picked one up and offered it to Charles without looking in his direction. Despite the quiet act of defiance, Charles could make out the outlines of a frown, and a man who foolishly considered this all one big game that he desperately wanted to win.

“Tell me more about your day,” Charles began, watching Toki snap and return to the six remaining spoons resting on the table. He could see the stress already beginning to add up as Toki counted his dwindling spoons, slowly but surely realizing that Magnus couldn’t possibly look after him without either falling into a depressive state, breaking into a manic state of blind fury, or just completely shutting down.

Surely.

“I wakes up,” Toki begins, eyes darting up and cautiously waiting for approval. He waited, almost wondering if Charles was thinking up a way to steal another spoon, but he didn’t. Charles raised two fingers, then gave a small wave to let Toki know he was safe. A bit relieved, Toki continued. “I leaves the bed and puts on clothes.”

“You still need help dressing, correct?” Charles asked him.

“Yeps,” Toki replied, only to then realize the error in his honest reply.

“That’s another spoon.”

“Reallies?” Toki asked, voice hiking up and turning into a high-pitched whine once Charles took the third spoon from the line. Toki threw his good hand on the edge of the table. “Ams just clothes?” he loudly exclaimed.

“Continue with your day, Toki.”

“I eats breakfasts on my owns,” Toki replied with a nasty drop in his voice. “And I don’t needs helps getting’ ups or sittin’ downs, either.”

“What about the bathroom?”

“Charles, that ims privates.” Toki remained firm in his position, allowing the silence between them to stretch for some time before it became too awkward and overwhelming for him. “Fine, Toki needs helps with showers and toilets.”

Charles pointed at a spoon. Toki groaned, throwing his head back before taking a spoon with his left hand and carelessly tossing it at Charles. Charles made a remark about it, but Toki continued staring up in anger. Something in his stomach turned as he tried to figure a day and the number of trips to the bathroom he’d have to take. It was so stupid and so stressful, and it barely made any sense because Toki could do most of it on his own; he just needed helped taking off his clothes, or undoing the button on his pants. But this stupid hand of his! It just wasn’t fair that meant a whole spoon…

“Alright,” Charles said, rubbing his chin after encountering the tossed spoon. “We’ve concluded our morning rituals. With four spoons left, too.”

“Goings to keep playing until Toki loses all spoons?” Toki asked sarcastically.

“Not if you understand why I’m making you go through this,” Charles replied fluidly.

Toki dropped his head, frowning at Charles. As if it wasn’t so obvious why this was happening to him. “Because you don’ts like Magnus,” Toki answered, watching the bottom of Charles’ eye twitch.

“Because he cannot take care of you for the long term,” Charles said, stressing the word.

Toki leered back. It wasn’t like he totally disagreed with Charles’ reply, but he knew better than to assume that was the only case. He wasn’t going to pretend everyone up and forgave Magnus. Not even after the hellfire. The escape. The song. Like everything else in Toki’s life, some things just didn’t work out that way. But he at least had everyone’s support to give this whole thing a short. Everyone except Charles. Toki’s glare weakened as he continued to stare at Charles, wishing that the man would just believe in him.

“Toki, you just survived an impossible event,” Charles said, unblinking. “You and Skwisgaar will never be the same again, physically or mentally. You need months of rest, therapy, and other things that we won’t be able to account for until they start showing up.”

Blah, blah, blah. Toki glanced at the spoons. He only had four left, and there was still so much to be had. The game seemed rigged against him, but Toki figured there had to be a way to win. Some rule that Charles left out, either by accident or on purpose. Or maybe it was a riddle, and he was too hung up on the only rule presented?

“Charles?”

“Yes, Toki?” Charles replied.

Toki bit his inner cheek, a bit nervous to ask. He had no clue if Charles would answer honestly, or continue stealing spoons every time he did or said the wrong thing. “Magnus can gets spoons, rights?” he asked hesitantly.

“Well, in theory he can recover them,” Charles admitted, withholding another twitch of the eye once Toki’s eyes lit up with some hope, “mainly through rest, though hypothetically he can regain a spoon throughout the day if he has the right support system.”

Charles regretted the honesty, because as soon as he finished, Toki started to ponder. He didn’t have to guess the next question that he’d ask, and already papered his next line of attack.

“If I tells him I loves him even if he’s stressed, will he gets a spoon back?” Toki asked, anxiety now coupling oddly with gooey-eyed romantics. It was a strange, unsightly combination that made Charles nervous. “And sometimes I leaves him alones when he ams upsets about somethings. Does that counts as rests? Or whens Toki calls him funny names until he gets so happy his face gets all darks and lips all thins and scrambly?”

Charles watched Toki’s face continue to light up with ideas, then turn a bright shade of pink as he contemplated other options, ones Charles absolutely had no desire to humor.

“What if we…” Toki’s expression turned as conservative as it possibly could, “what if we rests togethers? Then we both gains spoons, rights?”

“Pardon?”

“Y’know,” Toki covered the bottom half of his face, looking somewhat embarrassed by the question. “When we…does se–”

“I’m referring to you gaining spoons,” Charles interrupted.

“Oh, yeahs,” Toki replied, dropping his hands and recovering too quickly for Charles’ liking. He practically jumped on the question. “Wells, you said Magnus cans gains spoons if he rests, so I thoughts that means I cans also gets the spoons, rights?”

“Toki, why do you need spoons?”

“To helps Magnus when he ams out of spoons,” Toki answered, pointing at the four remaining spoons on the table.

Charles dragged his thumb and finger up the bridge of his nose. “You can’t give him your spoons, Toki.”

“Yeah, buts you said rests and supports will helps him gets new spoons,” Toki aptly replied, voice returning to its more natural state, but lacking the tinge of anger or annoyance. No, now Toki sounded calmer, almost informed. “If Magnus ams going to run out spoons before lunches, then that means Toki needs spoons to take care of Magnus when he ams out of spoons, right?”

Charles’ lips parted as his jaw threatened to drop at the question.

“Toki takes care of Magnus when his spoons are low,” Toki said, face continuing to ease and confidence building as he declared his newly hatched plan. “just like befores, when Magnus only hads two or three spoons before he yells at Toki to leave. Backs in the hospitals, after he stabs himself.”

Charles frowned. This was not happening. Did Toki really think this was some game where he could simply reset the number of attempts he had before Magnus snapped? Hurt him, or himself, or others around him? Did Toki forget he was no longer a god, but a mortal capable of dying if left under the wrong care?

Did Toki take nothing from the lesson? Did he not grasp the gravity of this situation? This wasn’t a visit. This wasn’t a weekend sleepover. A romp that ended with Toki taking a jet back to Mordhaus. This was several months of wearing a cast, having rods hold torn ligaments and broken bones together in an attempt not to lose a hand. This was potentially being told, several months down the line, that his hand and arm would never function the same again. Eventually, Toki would have to accept the cruel reality that he’d never play guitar again. What then? This was not accounting all the mental and emotional trauma. There were night terrors, Toki ceasing all conversation and withdrawing from everyone, and him breaking out into uncontrollable sobs at random. There was Toki feeling perpetual guilt over Nathan losing his voice, and him vocally wishing he’d been a better companion to Murderface and beating himself over it. It was Toki trying and failing miserably to cheer up Pickles and Skwisgaar, who had used music as a powerful means of escape, and hating that no joke or picture or board game could really make up for the loss of ability to play and perform.

“So if Magnus needs rests, Toki will gives him rests and use my spoons,” Toki concluded, ignoring Charles’ darkening expression. He could see Charles didn’t like what he said, even with his lips forming a straight line. It was impressive Charles could do that, though it meant it was hard for Toki to tell what he was thinking. Toki guessed he thought he was crazy. Maybe Toki was, and he just wanted to be crazy with Magnus. But after learning he spent so much time in the afterlife, or somewhere in between, and in a coma and now trapped in a hospital, Toki was sure he’d rather be crazy and counting spoons with someone who honest-to-god wanted to hang out with him. Only Magnus made that offer. Charles did too, but Magnus made it when he was sick and barely conscious, and kept making even after being told Toki would need extra care. Magnus still wanted him to stay, as beat down and exhausted as he was, possessing nothing but the few things he snuck out with him during the fire, and whatever empty awards that were handed to him after he woke up. He was broke, could barely walk from his bedroom to Nathan’s without feeling winded or needing support, and he’d never be able to make music or support himself through music, or even play the guitar…but Magnus’s invitation was still there.

Toki smiled, raising his arm midway before wincing terribly against the pain. He lowered his right arm, feeling tears starting to form, though it was hard to tell whether it was more a result of him forgetting his right arm was filled with rods, or because he knew that, between them, there was enough silverware to make it through the day. Tears fell as he recounted the spoons on the table, four plus the dozen or so Toki was sure he had, despite the agonizing pain that trumped his senses, and he knew there had to be several more he wasn’t seeing, because if Magnus could still bring himself to show up to his hospital bed and, with a smile, remind him the offer was still there, than that had to count for at least an additional spoon or two?

“Use… your spoons?” Charles murmured, bottom lids raising as Toki provided an eager nod, pushing out a pleased smile through his reddened eyes. “You will use your spoons on him…and yourself. While in a cast. Reliant on round the care supervision? “

Beaming through tears, Toki answered: “Yeps. I waits for his numbers to be high agains and asks for his helps while my spoons fixes back.” He blinked, bringing his good hand up and wiping the few tears that fell down his still gaunt cheeks. “So…does that means we wins and can stays togethers?”

Charles lowered his face into clasped fingers. His eyes closed as he wrangled control of his deepening frustration. “…is that all you took form this conversation?” he asked, unsurprised when he caught Toki shaking his head, still appearing as controlled as he could, given his obvious discomfort.

“Nopes.”

Charles raised an unconvinced brow. “Well, then, what else did you learn from this, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“That this ams not a game,” Toki answered, bringing his hand to rub his upper, right arm. Charles reached out to help, but Toki pushed his seat back with his legs, scooting away. Charles almost took it as the official lead-in to an argument or tantrum, but Toki stood up and, bringing his good hand down, picked up the four remaining spoons. “If it ams game, then Toki loses by lunchtimes. But Toki never does. Because Magnus ams not a game; he ams a person who tries.”

“You’re correct,” Charles said, with caution. “But you need to–”

“I knows it won’ts work all the times,” Toki added, fighting to have his voice heard. “And I knows there will be days when we ams both reallies low.”

“So you’re aware then–”

“But we wills figures somethings out,” Toki pushed through, successfully stopping Charles a second time. “We ams always good at thats. Maybes Magnus cans…” Toki stopped, breaking into a short fit of mad blinks. Charles waited, watched in growing discomfort as Toki’s eyes started to rain silent tears. He bit his inner lip, blinking repeatedly, struggling to say something that had been building up in him. “If Magnus cans learns to take cares of himself, even whens he hates himself, then so cans Toki,” Toki finished, and Charles’ eyes began to widen once he registered the absolution in Toki’s voice, the brutal honesty and recognition of his own, sorry state that Charles wasn’t aware the young man truly comprehended. “And, maybe if Toki is luckies, Magnus can teaches To…c-can teaches me to b-be okays, with alls of this…”

Still holding the spoons, Toki gestured at himself, using the small teaspoons to point at his ruined arm, his wasted and ruined form. Stuttering, Toki shut his eyes, upset at what was left of him, what he was stuck with for the rest of his life. Charles’ shut his own eyes, unmoving as he listened to sniffs and the sounds of spoons hitting the floor. So, Toki knew. Charles wondered just how much. He was afraid to ask. He wasn’t used to being wrong. The fact that it was Toki who pulled it off only made it harder to accept.

But, when it came to it, there was little he could do to convince the man to stay behind with him. Charles could tell Toki things would be alright, but that wasn’t the case. Charles had enough training in therapy, physical education and possessed enough background in kinesiology, but a gut sensation told him he lacked the ability to help pull Toki from the brink of despair. Mayhap in a few months, once he dealt with Pickles, planning and preparation for the onslaught of trouble to arise, but right now? Viewing Toki now, not as an overly gullible and childish man, but someone who fully accepted that this was it….that this was his reward for saving the planet, changed something. Suddenly, Charles wondered if he did have what it takes to help Pickles, and guide the other boys back on the path of the living.

“Okay, Toki,” Charles said, shaking his sinking head into spreading palms. Shame swept and blanketed his core as he heard Toki make another loud sniff, and he wondered just far Toki had fallen since waking up, and how deep Magnus would be willing to go to find him, offer a light, and pull him out from such a dark abyss. “You win.”

---

Toki wasn’t the first to leave (that would be Nathan and his family), but he departed at the opportune moment. Magnus arrived early, right after breakfast, and had Toki wheeled out shortly after he loudly declared his arrival to the hospital staff. The staff was effective at packing up Toki’s things, and a nurse already had a stack of files for Magnus to sign off.

The scene earned a chuckle from Skwisgaar, who, despite his pains, thought it appropriate that Magnus’ off-putting behaviors would result in an easy ticket out the door. Murderface wished Toki well, and promised to see him soon. Pickles hardly reacted, only providing a weak smile before withdrawing back into his wheelchair. The silent parting only made Charles less confident in his position, and offered some silent respect towards Toki for helping him take a step back and gain a better view of the challenges to come.

He hurried on ahead, while Magnus ordered for a nurse to carry Toki’s things. Magnus would obviously be the one to wheel Toki out.

From a distance, Charles waited outside of the hospital, and he witnessed the scene. Magnus pushed Toki towards his car, and the only talking Charles picked up on was the accompanying nurse’s, giving out a series of “does and don’ts” before dropping off their luggage by their small, barely adequate ride. Charles had to admit, Magnus did well to listen and never interrupt. He guessed Toki must have said something, but didn't see his lips move once during the one-sided discussion. In fact, aside from a few shared words between bandmates, Charles wasn't sure he heard Toki speak at all to himself or anyone else.

He remained outside the hospital, well after Magnus noticed his presence, but continued to observe, noting how much livelier Magnus was in comparison to Toki, how he held that false smile so well and was so animated with his movements. It was like staring at another man. Maybe that was the point.

He saw Magnus open the passenger door, say something to Toki with a slightly concerned look, and Toki nodded his head slowly, looking so exhausted but trusting. Charles nearly left his post when Magnus bent down, arms carefully wrapping around Toki before scooping him up and earning only a slight complaint that could barely be detected where Charles stood. Upset, he watched Toki’s good arm wrap around Magnus as he brought the two of them up, legs not shaking but head leaning to bump and rest against Toki’s, soothing whatever pain that wasn’t voiced.

What is that? One, two, three?

For a second, Charles wondered. He thought about everything he knew, and humored the idea of him possibly being wrong about Magnus, whether it be one thing, or everything adding up to this moment. After all, the prophecy was vague, and the messages translated to him had been proven wrong once before.

Maybe this was for the best. Maybe this would work out.

Silent and ever observant, Charles watched with a swelling, pained heart, Toki being lifted and carefully placed into the car by the man who stood behind his very shadow, his kidnapper and composure of the dethsong, his savior and friend. Charles let out a long exhale as the engine started up, and left his position to go back inside and look after the remaining members as Toki was whisked away, leaving behind all of his and Magnus’ titles, and moving on with whatever the fates had in store for them next.

#fanfic #toki wartooth #charles foster offdensen #magnus hammersmith #dethklok #mlt #metalocalypse #fanfiction #unbeta'd #tw: depression

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