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lord-explosion-baku · 3 years

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Trident Tale

Merman!Shinsou x reader, Kirishima x Reader

Warnings: adult themes (Minors DNI)

A/N: read the prologue on AO3

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

(Original image by @maewoahoah)

Synopsis: Moving to an island where everyone is big on the surf scene and other oceanic happenings might not have been the brightest idea for someone so afraid of anything that has to do with water, but you make do by spending your days looking after the Bed & Breakfast, trying not to burn the house down when you fry a few eggs, and obsessively scrolling through Eijirou Kirishima’s social media page. He’ll never notice you, and you think you’re fine with that, until a mysterious force washes into Ms. Shuzenji’s pool after a particularly nasty storm.

Hitoshi Shinsou is a pain in the ass from the get-go, but you put up with him, fins and all, when he promises he can help unite you with your soulmate. The catch? The fish is hellbent on taking back what was stolen from him, and he won’t lift a gracious finger until he gets what he came for.

You’re helpless to lend him a hand, so long as you stay dry. Unless, of course, he has other plans.

You know how the saying goes: you rub his fins, he’ll rub yours.

Storms have never really been your cup of tea. Though you keep yourself locked inside a good percent of the time, there’s nothing quite as suffocating as the compress of clouds overhead. It’s not like you always have to see them to be uncomfortable, but you definitely feel them pressing down, closing in, and caging you, even when you’ve got yourself tucked under a blanket on Ms. Shuzenji’s couch.

It’s been a little over a year since you first moved to the island. All you needed was a new beginning, and you got that, but you got that, and the tropical weather that you’re still getting used to. It’s currently typhoon season, and holy seaweed-on-your-doorstep, is it storming.

There’s little you can do to distract yourself while staying and working at Shuzenji’s bed and breakfast. There are currently no guests, aside from you, so all the rooms are made, and the old lady is on another one of her long vacations, so you’re basically being paid to lounge. You’re grateful for that, at least. But the only thing that’s keeping you physically separated from the terrifying weather is a thick glass pane that water sloshes on every time a wave laps over the backyard walls.

The things that separate you mentally are the old-timey recordings of Shuzenji singing alongside an ensemble cast, and the little device in your hand. If you didn’t have your boss’s haunting melodies echoing throughout the house, and some big, beefy, tatted eye-candy to gawk at during the storm, you’d surely go insane.

Eijirou Kirishima, one of the island’s best surfers, is out on his board, live-streaming his current fight against the waves. His whoops and hollers can be heard over the crashing tides, getting even you excited for what’s about to come. That’s the thing about Kirishima; he’s wild, you’re not, and it’s hot as hell. Oftentimes, you catch yourself daydreaming about joining him out in the surf—he guides you through the waves, maybe yoou impress him a bit with your sudden affinity for wave-riding, and the two of you wash up on shore where you’ll both share your first kiss. It would be feasible if you could swim. It would be feasible if you bothered to learn how to swim, but for now, you’re content with your imagination. At least he can make you hate the terrible weather a little less.

The conspiratorial smirk he shows the camera is borderline swoon-worthy when the swell begins to pull him further out. It’s impossible not to bite your lip every time you catch a glimpse of his arms forcing themselves through the sea. He makes this look easy—like the storm is child’s play, and as the winds blow Shuzenji’s trash bin into the sliding glass door, you welcome the delicious distraction.

As Kirishima stands up on his signature trident board and rides one of the biggest waves he’s seen all day, you’re once again struck with how much of a coward you are. He can fight the elements, while you can hardly bring yourself the courage to talk to him. Mind you, he’s constantly surrounded by a close group of friends—a close group of friends you find intimidating—and when he’s not with them, he’s out in the water. Where there’s water involved, you’re spoken for. Unless, of course, you’d like for the first time you guys actually speak, to be when he’s giving you CPR.

Not the most ideal “meet cute”, but if it works, it works.

A loud crash snaps you out of your admittedly salty daydream. Mango, Shuzenji’s orange tabby, yowls at the blanket of water cascading down the windows, and your stomach sinks. There’s only so many minutes you can pretend that the storm Kirishima is facing isn’t the one that’s destroying Shuzenji’s yard.

With a sigh, you roll off the velvet couch, and grimace when crumbs that were nesting in your shirt fall to the carpet: a mess to clean up later. Without any guests to mind, you don’t have to worry too much over keeping the place spick-and-span, so long as things are nice and tighty by the time the old lady gets back, which will be awhile.

You have an easy enough job—at least, when there aren’t bunches of thick seaweeds crashing over the yard’s wall, flooding the pool.

“Shit.”

Water sprays in every direction. The already trash-infested pool overflows as more kelp rolls in with the maniacal waves, and angry, white foam bangs on the back door. It's a disaster outside, and you’re not sure what to do about it.

Fingers wrapped around the back door handle, you struggle to think of a way to prevent a bigger mess, but even if you could manage to clean anything, nothing is stopping the tempest from wreaking anymore havoc. Best case scenario, you stop a plastic soda-chain from washing out to see and becoming a deadly necklace for an unlucky seagull. Worst case scenario, you slip, crack your head open on the pavement, and drown before you can ever utter the words “mahalo” to Kirishima.

Needless to say, you’ll take your life over a gull’s any day.

Another sigh.

A greater wave collides against the wall, bringing more of the Great Unknown into the pool. This is going to be a fun job to clean. Good thing you’ve got Shuzenji’s service boy, Denki Kaminari, on speed dial. You think if you sound particularly distressed in the morning, he’ll show up to help you out with just about anything in the matter of minutes. God bless desperate fuckboys.

So, for now, you cuddle back up on the couch, watch Kirishima shake saltwater out of his thick, red hair, and pretend that his storm is not the same thing as your storm.

It’s early morning when you finally rise out of bed. You hadn’t gotten a whole lot of rest—something to do with the wailing winds shaking your bedroom window nonstop, but after you finally drifted into dreams about snakes and dragons, you woke to clear skies, and light seagull calls.

From the second story, you can see early birds have already gotten the jump on cleaning up the beach. The sun is shining, the ocean blue and vast. The only trace there was ever a storm is already being taken care of. There are lifeguards riding around on ATVs and younger civilians with trash bags and grapplers picking up seaweed and absconded debris. The respect everyone has for the island is something to be admired, and you half-consider going out there yourself, after you’ve dealt with your yard, which is sure to be a wreck.

There’s no interest in picking out a cute outfit for the morning you’re going to have, even if Denki might see you, so you throw on a already-worn-this-week crop top, some pink shirts, and you’re good to go.

The first thing you do after Mango’s fed is check your socials. Kirishima posted a picture of his breakfast: a hefty plate with three eggs, sausage links, bacon, cut avocado, and what seems to be low-carb toast. The post reads, gotta eat ur gainz 2 gain ur gainz, and it’s so ridiculous that you’re infatuated with this reckless himbo. You wonder if you’d ever be able to hold an intellectual conversation with him, if you could ever manage to speak to him in the first place, but conversation wouldn’t matter if his mouth was between your thighs.

Following his example, you crack two eggs over a frying pan, sigh at the mostly empty fridge, then agonize over the state of Shuzenji’s yard. It’s worse than you thought it’d be. The pool is a sickly green color, and from where you’re standing inside, its murky depths seem to be almost opaque from the seaweed and garbage stewing together. Kelp litters the beige pavement, and there’s trash hiding in the shrubs. There’s a chocolate donut floaty bobbing around in there, too, and Shuzenji doesn’t own any floaties.

What a drag.

Before you get too far in your head about everything you’ll need to do to clean up, you quickly dial Denki’s number. He picks up after a ring and a half.

“I know what you’re about to ask,” says the boy on the line, and from his cocky tone, you can assume it’s not going to be about the cleanup. “I am absolutely free tonight. If you wanted to grab drinks at the Salty Barrel, maybe go on a romantic rendezvous out on the beach, watch the sunset on or in a couple blankets, I wouldn’t complain.”

“I’m not calling to ask you on a date, Kaminari,” you say as you step outside. The pavement is cold underneath your bare feet, and you have to tip-toe around to be sure not to let any kelp touch your skin. Yuck.

“But you’re not, not calling about a date, either,” he counters. By the volume of his voice, you can tell that he’s in his van, talking to you over the speaker. Good. So he’s already out and about.

“I need you to tell me how to drain Shuzenji’s pool.” Call you cold, but you’re used to Denki’s flirty nature by now, and you’ve learned that the best way to deal with it, is to not acknowledge it. Of course, you can’t be too callous when it comes to him, especially when you actually need his help. You eye the dangerously complex-looking valves off to the side of the house, and grimace. “There’s too many twisty thingies! I’m not sure what to do!”

“Now, hold your horses, little lady! Don’t go twisting any thingies just yet. Draining a pool is a process.” There’s a long pause, the loud growl of an engine, then silence. He’d pulled over to talk to you. “How’s your TDL? And what kinda PVC pipes you got?”

“The huh and what?” You don’t need to pretend to be in distress—you have no idea what he’s talking about.

“Listen, don’t touch anything. You’re calling because the pool’s a mess right now, right? You don’t need to drain it; at least, not yet. I can swing by in an hour or so to clean it, but I’ve gotta make some stops first. You’re not the only single woman who wants to watch me do my thang, especially not after yesterday.”

“It’s so bad, Kaminari.” The water in the pool sloshes around, like there’s actually something in it causing the water to ungulate and burble. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“Don’t worry your pretty, little head over it. You've got me, okay? It’s my job to protect and serve.”

“You’re not a cop.”

“Nope, I’m better than a cop. I’m a pool guy.”

He goes on to ask you to check out what kind of drain the pool has, if you can find the drain, then loses you when he starts talking numbers and gallons. While still on the phone, you send a few texts to Shuzenji, explaining the predicament, then Denki mentions rates. You’re getting the cutie pie discount, doubled because he counts Shuzenji as a “cutie pie” too—something you mention to her because she’ll get a kick out of it—then he drops all business to ask about food.

“I’m cooking my breakfast,” you say with a wary glance back at the house.

“But is your breakfast fries and a shake from Tiki Burger?”

You bite your lip as your stomach growls its empty sorrow. “No.”

“Would you like it to be?” His knowing grin is heard through the line.

“…I’m not gonna go out with you.”

He chuckles and you’re grateful that he can’t see your answering smile. “We’ll see how you feel after you see me work my magic. And hey, if you’d like me to wear a Speedo while I work—“

“You’ll be here in an hour?” You cut him off, because Denki in a Speedo is the last thing you need on your mind. The thought of Kirishima in a Speedo, however, gets you a little hot, which is saying a lot, since you’re a part of the Speedos and Dolphin-shorts Are Abominations To Swimwear belief system.

“Maybe sooner. I think my next client just needs me to check out their chemical levels. Inside pool and all. Everyone else knew to put a tarp out.”

The tarp you had blew away, but you don’t bother explaining that to Denki. Let him believe you’re the dim-witted “little lady” he wants you to be. If it means Shuzenji gets a discount, not that she can’t afford any bill Denki’s company throws at her, then let him believe you can’t open a pickle jar without a man’s help for all you care.

“See you then,” you say, and end the call. There will be time to work on your charm once Denki gets here. Until then, you figure you could do some investigating so you’re not completely helpless.

Leaving your phone on the pavement so you don’t accidentally drop it in the water, you make your way around the pool to where you think you remember the drain being. You can’t say you’ll know what kind of drain it is, but if you remember correctly, it’s circular, and like, kinda meshy? That description simply won’t do.

Dropping down to your knees, you peer down into the pool, squinting, as if that can help you see through all the muck. There’s definitely a lot of kelp and algae, sand drifting through the water, someone’s wayward brazier, and oh. A school of fish—little babies circling about. It’s wild, but you suppose it could be possible if all the chlorine washed out and there was enough salt water to sustain marine life.

The fish move together, bopping into each other, mouths gaping open to eat whatever they find in their temporary home. You don’t know enough about marine life to know what kind of fish they are. Silvery little things. Maybe Denki has something that can help transport them from the pool to the ocean. It’s not far—Shuzenji’s house is on the beach. It would be a shame if all the little fish had to die. You don’t particularly care about touching or feeding fish, but a life is a life, and if they can be saved, you’d at least like to try.

But all your thoughts of saving fish life stop when you catch something moving in the water. It’s not the fish—they’re not that big, but it’s definitely fishlike. Fish plus. It moves like a shadow, serpentine and fluid. You catch a glimpse of scales, so it’s definitely not a dolphin—even then, it’s bigger than a dolphin, and more graceful than a shark. You begin thinking of leviathan, and other mythical creatures, as ridiculous as that is, when you see a long flowing fluke.

Okay. This thing is not just big. It’s gargantuan, and to see this much of the creature without seeing its head makes your skin crawl. You imagine falling in and being swallowed whole, suffocating in the dark, drowning in a monster’s belly.

The thought spooks you static, just in time to meet a pair of eyes in the water. This is your overactive imagination—you’re scaring yourself insane, but you don’t look away, and those eyes, almost human and curious, don’t disappear.

You’ve consumed enough media to know how these impossible interactions go. The creature is inquisitive, but keeps its distance. It often has to be coaxed out of hiding, and even then, the thing is skittish and untrusting. You’re certainly not one to go “pspsps, hey little guy, I’m not gonna hurt you,” but even if you were, you don’t get the chance, because this thing you’re looking at isn’t the least bit skittish, and in one second, you’re making eyes at at it, and in the next, the thing is exploding out of the water.

A large, broad chest towers over you. The thing pushes itself up with arms, human arms, but it’s anything but human. Sure, it has hair, although an odd purple color, framing its angular face and jaw, which are both human enough. Also framing its face are a pair of long, pointed fins sticking out from where human ears should be. Water dribbles down its chest, down to its navel—its navel. Your brain screams mammal, but underneath its navel are scales, rippling down to where its legs should be. Not human. Not fish.

Fish plus.

Man.

Fish plus man.

Fish-man.

Its eyes are almost the same color as its hair, only a shade lighter, and much sharper, narrowed in on you. It’s glaring. You realize this at the same time you realize that you're staring at it with your mouth agape. This would be so rude in any other setting. It’s also rude to pop out of a pool that isn’t yours without any other warning, but you’re not about to chastise the thing. You’re far too scared.

Then the thing reaches out to you, sprinkling water on your thighs and your shirt. Its hands look like a man’s hand, but its long fingers are connected by thin, indigo webbing that matches its tail. Its tail. You lose focus trying to find the word for this creature that’s barely on the tip of your tongue, when you realize the palm of its hand, its fishy, webby hand, is hovering over your cheek, the other carefully placed next to your knee to keep it upright.

You open your mouth to speak, but only a hiss comes out. The creature, wary, brings its hand back, but only slightly. Not enough to put you at ease, but enough to allow you to gain your composure, and scream.

“H-help!!!” You screech. “Help! Somebody! Help me!”

It claps its hand over your mouth, knocking you back. Water drips down on your shirt as it leans in, mouth curling up with distaste. Then, it does something impossible.

It speaks.

“So loud,” it growls in a low, masculine timbre.

It speaks, you think, it speaks and it has no manners!

You try to yell back, probably something with little thought, but you have a mouth full of fish-man hand, and the more you warble in its palm, the more apathetic it appears.

“Be quiet and still,” it commands, as if obeying it is supposed to be the most natural thing—something it expects from you. It catches you so off-guard that you actually listen, only trembling a little bit as those indigo eyes scan over your form. It’s uncomfortable having an unknown but cognizant creature observe you so closely. You shiver when its gaze roams over your belly, down your legs. You want to curl your legs up, move away, but you’re afraid if you even twitch more than it’s comfortable with, it’ll grab you and drag you into the pool. Your nightmare.

Instead, it does something slightly less worse. It moves its hand from your mouth to your cheek. The palm of its hand warms your skin in an unnatural way, like you’ve been laying in the sun for half an hour and it’s only your cheek that heats up. The creature's eyes widen as light begins to emanate, either from you, or from it, you’re not sure, but definitely from where it touches you. Tingles run from your neck down to your spine, and you wish you’d put a bra on before going outside, because this thing’s touch is making your body react in a way that it shouldn’t.

“So easy,” it purrs appraisingly, somewhat less insolent, but you’re still taken aback, ears hot with embarrassment.

Un-fucking-likely.

“Easy?!” You squawk out. “What do you mean by easy?”

It doesn’t answer you, and instead, moves its fingers from your cheek, down your jaw, to your chin. It begins leaning closer, heavy lids closing. You notice its lips for the first time: a defined line and a pretty bow. If you were in a less dire situation, you’d be able to admit that they’re very nice lips, but they’re getting closer to you, closer still, and you realize with a jolt what it’s trying to do.

Your foot meets its chest in a heartbeat.

“Nope!” You belt out, extending your leg so there’s more distance between you and the impolite beast. “Not today, fish-breath!”

Unperturbed, it lifts a lazy brow. Then, to your absolute horror, it presses both of its hands into your bare leg, and again you’re lit up, warm, and tingly, only far worse than before. Stomach tightening, you make a choked noise, trying to hold in the sigh that claws at your throat.

“Fish-breath.” It repeats your insult like it’s a balled-up piece of paper to be thrown in the trash. “I’ve been told that my aroma is quite appealing.”

“By whom? Other fish-breaths?!” You wriggle your leg out of his embrace, or whatever you could call that invasion, only to have it slip down so your foot rests in the fish-man’s hands, bright as the stars in the sky. “Eww ew! Don’t touch me! Get away!”

The creature scoffs, but let’s you go, and you both watch as the light disappears from the arch of your foot where he’d been touching. Fish-man slinks back into the murky water, hiding under a blanket of algae.

You have enough time to gather your composure, wipe the water droplets off your face, and rub your eyes. For a moment, you try to convince yourself that this has all been a sleep-deprived hallucination, but you’ve never really been one to delude yourself, unless your Kirishima fantasies were involved, and you know that you’ll have to try another tactic to accept the reality of your situation. Perhaps you can try to be civil with this creature, ask it if it’s…hurt, or if it needs a late night escort to get it back to the sea. But then, the thing resurfaces on the opposite end of the pool. It faces you, and leans back against the wall, arms spread out against the pavement, basking.

“You know,” he says, “your decorum is severely lacking. Don’t humans have classes that teach them proper etiquette—how to be more polite towards their guests and such?”

What’s lacking is your patience for marine life.

Standing up, you take in the thing, which you’re now pretty sure is in fact a man of sorts, in its entirety. His tail is long, longer than human legs, extending past the halfway mark of the pool, if your measurement counts his fluke. There’s a golden cuff on his right arm that spirals around, accentuating his large biceps. You stubbornly admit that it’s attractive—he’s attractive, at least, he would be for people who were into fish and not surfers. You brush whatever you’re feeling in the pit of your stomach off by telling yourself that you’re simply awestruck, and move on.

“Where I’m from-“ you begin, straightening your sodden crop top- “we offer our guests various beverages and snacks, depending on the time of day.”

Annoyingly, he looks interested.

“Since it’s the morning, I’d offer a guest tea, or coffee, and if I’m looking to impress, I’d maybe cook them a hot meal.”

The creature offers you a sardonic smile. “I happen to be famished.”

“However, with home-invaders, we’re more likely to pull a gun on them before heating up the earl grey.”

He loses the smile, and you’re glad that he might have an inkling of what a gun is. You’ve never owned one, and they don’t allow firearms on the island, but the threat stands. But if he was intimidated, even for a moment, he doesn’t show it anymore, and proves just that by turning his back on you, and resting his head in his arms. He has a dorsal fin with what looks to be a deep, x-shaped scar near his tailbone. You try not to wonder what that could’ve been from.

“Then how do you propose I go from a home-invader, to a house guest?” Asks the creature with little interest.

Cautiously walking around the pool with your arms crossed, you begin to list things off for the far-too-comfortable fish-man.

“You can start by telling me who you are, what you are, why you’re here, what you want, and why you think you can lay your webbed hands on me.”

“Oh, is that all?” He hums noncommittally. Content. Aggravating. “Why don’t you start then? Who are you, and why are you here?”

The back of your neck grows hot and uncomfortable. “How entitled do you have to be to—!” You start, but you’re swiftly cut off by the shrieking of the fire alarm. Smoke plumes from outside the house’s windows, and you curse under your breath before darting towards the door. You’d completely forgotten about your eggs.

In your haste to move the pan off the stove, you burn your fingers and drop the pan to the kitchen floor, two blackened egg crisps flaking off and diving in different directions. Mango yowls at the commotion and investigates one of the fallen egg crisps. Before you can tell him to buzz off, he loses interest in your mess, not bothering to give it a taste. You don’t blame him, but the eggs didn’t appear to be cat-bad. Ah, you can’t kid yourself. They are cat-bad. They’re completely inedible. Now you’re going to have to head to the market, while worrying about a man trapped in Shuzenji’s pool.

Your stomach roars at you.

After cleaning the mess as best as you could while desperately and ruefully wanting to return to your guest—no, not guest—invader, you get the alarm, half-heartedly fan the smoke out of the house, and return. Angry. This guy better start talking soon, or things are going to get ugly.

To your utter displeasure, he looks all the more amused at your newer, messier state.

“Was that supposed to be the hot meal,” he asks, cocky. “Because if so, I’ll pass.”

Instead of biting his head off like you’d like to, you present him with the still-dirty frying pan, pointing it at his head like you intend to use it.

“Start talking, fish-for-brains.”

The beast snickers, raising his hands in the air in mock-surrender. “Easy there, tiger shark. You know how to use that thing?”

You refuse to humor him. Instead, you keep your scowl tight, your arms steady. If he’s not threatened, he’ll lose interest in this game, then he’ll have to talk.

Lo and behold, you’re right. The fish-man rolls his eyes, and looks at you, again, with apathy.

“My name is Hitoshi Shinsou,” he says, lackadaisical, like he’s already bored of himself. “I’m one of Ryūjin. What humans have learned to call merpeople are actually descendants of the sea gods who lived centuries ago. I’m here, simply because the storm washed me here. What I want is to retrieve what’s mine. I thought I could lay my webbed hands on you—well-“ the corner of his mouth tilts up-“darlin’, it was because your body reacted to me.”

Mouth forming the beginning of a question that never comes, you stare in disbelief at this myth. Then the last thing he said dawns at you.

“I did not react to you!” You rebuke, steady hands now shaking.

“Oh no?” He says, but it’s not a question. It’s a challenge.

Hitoshi grabs the flat end of the frying pan and yanks it, and you, closer to him, closer to the water. You cringe and whine when a wet, webby hand closes around your wrist. Inadvertently, you drop the pan, but he pays it no mind as it sinks past his tail. Your skin begins to glow underneath his palms, and the tingles come back, shooting up your arm, causing tiny goosebumps to appear.

“Would you look at that,” Hitoshi croons, slow and almost sensuously. His indigo eyes narrow on your index finger where you’d burned yourself. To add to this nightmare, he closes his lips around it, and begins to suck. Your stomach flips, and you’re not sure if it’s because you’re disgusted, or scared, or…enjoying the feeling of his warm mouth, his tongue, touching your skin.

“Stop.” It’s a whisper. It means nothing. You think you want it to mean something, but your thoughts are buzzing into a blur. Knees growing weak, you descend, leaning closer to him, not caring about the water or the seaweed or the fish, and instead, entirely focused on his mouth. It’s glowing, his mouth. Faintly. Like a single candle lit in an otherwise empty room.

When he eases off of you, he runs his thumb over your now-healed finger, and let’s your arm fall limply at your side.

“All better,” he whispers back at you.

There are prickles all over your skin once you regain an ounce of dignity.

“What the hell was that?” You ask, breathless for no other reason than shock.

“The glowing?” He asks. “The healing?”

“Both.”

“Your reaction to me.” He’s cocky again. This is something sick. Mythical creature or not, this has got to be a game he plays, washing into people’s pools, causing problems, sucking on lonely girls’ fingers. He probably gets his kicks this way, and uses whatever other kind of magic he has to erase whoever he’s tormenting’s memories, if he doesn’t end up eating them when he’s done. Bogus.

You won’t let him get to you.

“Alright, Hitoshi Shinsou, how would you like me to get you back into the ocean? You healed my finger-“ although it’s essentially his fault you were burned to begin with, if you take into account the sequence of events-“so helping you out is the least that I can do.”

“I could use your help,” he muses lightly, turning his body back around to his chest and abdomen are turned towards the sun. You tell yourself not to stare like you know he probably wants you to. Though his eyes are closed, he peeps at you, sneaking a glance. “I don’t want to go back into the ocean, though. Not until I get what’s mine.”

With the might of a girl who just wants to go back inside and scroll through her phone, you swallow your bite, and ask, “what would that be?”

“Oh, this and that-“ he waves his hand around dismissively-“other things.”

With the might of a girl who just wants to go back inside and find another frying pan, you say, “alright, listen. Someone is on their way to the house to clean the pool. I don’t know what one of Ryūjin means, but I’m guessing people like you don’t always want to be discovered by people like us. So you either tell me what it is you need, or see how my pool guy reacts to a mermaid lounging around in my backyard! I wouldn’t put it against him to call the local news station. Get this place flooding with cameras. Does that sound like a pretty picture to you?”

Absolutely none of your threats penetrate Hitoshi’s cool nature. In fact, he laughs.

“When he gets here,” the merman drawls, knowing he’s got you hanging on every word, “invite him to swim.”

#bnha mermay #mermaid au #siren!shinsou #mermaid!hitoshi shinsou #hitoshi shinsou x reader #shinsou x reader #bnha x reader #bnha x you #bnha imagines #bnha reader insert #reader insert #trident tale

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vintagecxctus · 2 years

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why everyone is wrong about the stranger things season 4 release date, and when i think it will be.

so many people have theorized the release date to be july or august but i really think i might have it this time, fuck me if i’m wrong.

first of all, season 3 came out july 4th, the exact time the season was set. we know that this season is set during spring break. spring break normally occurs in march, towards the end. that alone isn’t significant but the next part is:

the writers and noah have all said that this season features will much more heavily, stranger things official twitter even changing their bio to something along the lines of “will the wise” (i seriously looked everywhere for a pic and don’t have one 😭) and noah saying that his plot is more prominent and intense this season. bare with me here:

in the trailer see the “surfer boy pizza” van and a number on the side. 805-45-PIZZA reportedly (i haven’t heard this myself so i can’t confirm) sings you ‘happy birthday’, guess who’s birthday happens to fall at the end of march?

then matthew modine chips in with a tweet saying-

so basically stranger things 4 is dropping end of march likely the 22nd

#stranger things #will byers #mike wheeler #stranger things season 4 #st4 theory #st4 #joyce byers

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hunflowers · 4 years

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Golden

Word Count: 15.3k

Requested? I don’t remember, but you always can here :)

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A/N: Lord, have mercy SHE’S FINALLY HERE!!!!! My baby Golden is finally out to the public and can I just say how fucking relieved I am to post it. I love her, I hope you do too <3 little warning: there are mentions of panic attacks in here, and a heart condition (that i did my best to research on) so if you’re uncomfortable, pls don’t read.

special thanks to my soul baby @stylesloveclub for being my biggest support system with this, she’s dedicated to you <3

for anyone reading this, please reblog! it really helps us writers out. okay onward friends!!! lemme know how i did and if you like it *nose boops*

Water. The ocean. Waves. The tide.

Symbolic of life, birth. Can be used to wash away even the most troubling of sins.

O’ahu, Hawaii, home to some of the best surfing destinations in the state, in the country, in the world. Also home to one of the best surfers in the state, in the country, in the world.

Y/N didn’t coin herself that. Not that she’s complaining about it, but she doesn’t surf for the title. She surfs for the freedom. She feels the most alive when her toes dig into the sand as she runs towards the warm, salt oblivion, her novelty yellow and blue surfboard tucked under her arm.

Her whole life she had been surrounded by water. When she was a baby, she always wanted a bath. When she was a toddler, she always wanted to stay in the kiddie pool. And then she got into surfing, and well, the rest is history so-to-speak. Her parents never got themselves involved in the sport professionally but more as a recreational activity. And it was even how they met, so really there was no stopping surfing from flowing through Y/N’s blood.

Her backyard was the ocean, so growing up, it was really the only thing for her to do. It’s what all the kids were doing, and Y/N was no different. She met her best friends on the beach when they were five years old, practicing the basics of surfing, like getting up on the board and finding their balance with the Earth.

Kalani and AJ, two of the best surfers Y/N will ever meet, and two of the purest souls to ever grace her life. They’re madly in love with one another. Have been for as long as they’ve been friends -- so coming up on sixteen years. Y/N is in awe of their relationship, she really is, but being a third-wheel isn’t exactly something she signed up for. Though, she kind of expected it when growing up.

They tried countless times to set her up with someone, but time and time again their matchmaking skills have failed, and Y/N is tired of them pitying her. No, she may not be in a long term relationship, but she hardly has time for a relationship anyway. Especially with competitions coming up, she needs to keep herself focused on surfing rather than some boy who will probably end up breaking her heart.

Well, that was her intention anyway.

October 27th, the first day of the best months out of the year.

And it started just the same as every other year. Y/N woke up at the crack of dawn and threw on her lucky white bathing suit before throwing an apple down her throat. Her surfboard was perched up against the back patio railing, and she swiftly tucked it under her arm as she made her way down the shore, being greeted by the luminescent sun that was swarming the sea in a shade of tangerine and lemon.

Jogging knee deep into water, Y/N sunk her hand just below the surface, swaying it back and forth, taking a deep breath as she felt the cool texture swarm her body. Exhaling slowly, she threw herself down onto her board, paddling onward into the great unknown. The familiar sound of the crashing waves causing her to flinch for a brief moment before comforting her ears as she watches the restless ocean ahead of her, a smile washing over her face as she could basically see her future ahead of her.

Today marks qualifying day, and obviously if she marks as qualified, she moves forward to the Vans Triple Crown. She’s been training all year, her body practically a prune with how much she’s been in the water. But, a minute can’t go to waste, so up until the very last second where she has to head to the north shore, she’s gonna remain in the water and build her intuition with how the day is going to go.

Last year, Y/N had to cut her time short when she was hospitalized the night before the first competition. So, she was all more determined to win the championship that is rightfully hers. Well, in the women’s division at least. Last year was ripped from her right when it was under her nose and she refuses to have a repeat of it.

After her hospitalization, everyone was convinced she’d never return to the water. Despite the ocean being her second home, everyone figured she would turn away -- avoid the embarrassment last year brought upon her. But, it only made her stronger and more determined to prove everyone wrong. No matter how frightening it really was.

Her first wave of the day had her coasting along smoothly, starting her out easy as waves progressively got bigger with the tide. When she got out into the water, the sun had just broken past the horizon line, yet by the time she left, the sun was nearly at its peak in the sky. Her skin felt raw, yet her body was running on adrenaline as she scoffed down the lunch her mom had made her before they banded into the family van and headed to Sunset Beach on the north shore.

Y/N’s heart raced in her chest, her leg bouncing subconsciously but furiously as she watched the landscape pass her by through the window. Her typically calming music wasn’t even working as she ran through multiple scenarios in her mind of what could go wrong today and how her day, her week, month, even year could be ruined.

Once outside of the van and on the beach, her parents pulled her close into a tight, warm hug, whispering words of encouragement in her ears, knowing just how important this was for her. Surfing and competitions had always been important to Y/N, but following last year’s downfall, this day was going to make or break whatever is left of her both physically and emotionally.

“Y/N!” she heard her name being called from the distance, the three of them immediately letting go of one another as they exchanged sheepish smiles.

“Y/N!” Was called out again, causing her to turn around and see Kalani running straight for the three of them, waving her arms in a drastic manner to gain her best friend’s attention. “Oh my -- I ran so fast, wow, I need to calm down,” Kalani breathed out, closing Y/N into a firm embrace.

“Save your energy for the waves, babe,” Y/N laughed, wrapping her own arms around Kalani’s frame. The two of them were never inseparable, it was kind of like they were actually glued to the hip together ever since they were children. And a lot of people were surprised they remained best friends through the years, what with both of them always competing in the same surfing competitions battling for the first place spot. And they knew this could be a strain on their relationship, but they decided ever since they were seven years old that they weren’t going to let surfing get between them. No matter what, they were always proud of each other for everything they’ve accomplished and are each other’s number one fans.

Thing is, Y/N tends to snag that first place spot a lot of the time, and Kalani always just misses her, earning her the second spot, right beneath her. But, Kalani has grown to accept that Y/N is better at the sport, and that’s nothing for her to be ashamed of. She’s managed to get a few of her own first place wins, and in her eyes, that’s good enough. She can’t live her life being jealous of her best friend because that’s not healthy, and anyway, surfing is much more Y/N’s livelihood than it is her own, so she’s fine with being second best -- despite what others may think.

Tugging her board off the top of the car, Y/N tucked it beneath her arm as she walked hand-in-hand with Kalani to wherever her family had set up camp on the beach. “Where’s AJ?” Y/N wondered, as she looked out into the water and saw no one out in it.

“The boys are starting soon, so he’s with Nav,” Kalani said, finally stopping in front of her parents and younger brother, and AJ’s older brother.

“Y/N!” They greeted, getting up from their chairs to kiss the girl on the cheek before greeting her parents. “It’s so great to see you back here,” Kalani’s mom smiled, pinching Y/N’s cheek before plopping herself back down under the sun.

They all began to catch up with one another since it’s been awhile they’ve all gotten together, all of them falling into old habits as if it hadn’t been months since they were last together. Y/N tried to engage in as much conversation as possible, but her mind tended to wander off as the guys started lining up in the water and making their way out. Her throat dried up and her palms were sweating -- and not from the heat -- as her nerves kicked in. Her memory began to cloud her vision as she stood abruptly and quickly walked away from the group, her heart picking up again.

Her breaths shortened as her mind blurred, and all she wanted was to curl up on her bed and calm her mind. She felt someone’s hand on her back, and immediately she could tell it was her father by the smell of his cologne. Once she was far enough from people, Y/N could feel tears well in her eyes as short images flashed across her eyes, cutting each inhale of breath in half -- which caused her to panic even more as she couldn’t breathe properly.

Last year ruined her, and she absolutely despises that this is considered her normal day-to-day routine now, her body shaking with fear as she feels herself collapsing from the inside, out. “Y/N, honey, can you hear me?” She thinks she hears her father say, but is undetermined with the intense white noise that’s swarming her ear drums.

“Count with me, c’mon, backwards from ten.”

But, all her mind could focus on was her body sinking lower and lower beneath the surface of water.

“Ten… Gotta count, c’mon you can do it, nine.”

“Eight,” she murmured, reaching out to grasp her dad’s shirt tight in her fist, just to make sure that he was really in front of her. She needs to be reminded that last year is her past, and that no matter how forward it is in her mind, it’s not her present anymore and she’s not drowning. “Seven.”

He took her hands and held them to his chest, “Six, keep going.”

“Fi-” she gulps, swallowing the lump in her throat, “..five.”

She makes it all the way down to zero, her body visibly relaxing and mentally as she hesitantly looks around to see no one watching the little event. “Do you want to go home?”

Y/N looks up to her father, shaking her head in response as she sniffles her nose and brushes away the one stray tear that has cascaded down her cheek. “No… I can do this.”

He cocks his head to the side and purses his lips, slowly nodding his head. Wrapping his arm around her shoulders, he turns them back in the direction, walking with her slowly as she continues to gather herself. “You don’t have to prove yourself to anyone, Y/N. Everyone knows you’re an amazing surfer.”

“I think I just need to prove it to myself,” she stated, dragging her feet through the sand like a child so it slowed their arrival time back with the group. She can only imagine that her mom had informed everyone already of what was happening, and the last thing she wants is their sorry eyes and pathetic spouts of pity that she knows she’ll wish they just kept to themselves.

Y/N knows she’s broken. She’s not the same girl everyone knew this time last year, but she doesn’t need to be reminded of it every time she steps into a room. What happened last year was serious and she understands that people are worried; But all she wants is for everyone to forget about it. Including herself. She thinks the thing that’s causing her the most trepidation now -- rather than in the morning or all year long -- is the fact she’s now back in front of a crowd again, eyes trained on her like hawks watching prey, waiting for something awful to happen again.

The only thing missing is the popcorn as they watch this free entertainment.

When they finally came back to everyone, Y/N noticed the guys had started paddling out. Everyone was talking amongst themselves, dismissing her presence as she sat herself down back in the sand, and a breath of relief escaped her lips. The tension was there, but everyone ignored it for her sake, and Y/N couldn’t be more grateful.

“Go, AJ!” Kalani cheered, pumping her fist and shouting a few hoots and hollers afterward. Dom, AJ’s brother, let out a few ear screeching whistles, the kind with the fingers in the mouth, joining in on rooting for his brother.

Watching the guys out there solidified to Y/N how real this really is, and soon her veins were pumping with excitement again instead of dread as she cheered on her best friend. He was going to qualify, they all were and they knew that, but it's always fun to get excited about the possibility of moving forward and winning the titles and earning the trophies.

All the other faces that surfed alongside AJ were mostly familiar, their names ringing bells as the announcers spoke of them, but there was one that Y/N hadn’t ever heard before. It’s the same cycle of people every year, yet this guy was fresh. And the only reason she’s curious as to who he is, is because he’s good. Like, really good.

Kalani can’t exactly remember if she’s heard of him either, shrugging to Y/N’s wonderment, “I don’t know. Maybe AJ knows.” His pink surfboard and pink wet shirt stuck out as he was a sight for sore eyes, and Y/N grew a little resentment towards him as he pulled out a few advanced maneuvers, gaining everyone’s undivided attention that used to be on AJ.

“Who is that?” Y/N’s mother questioned, looking around to see that no one knew the answer.

He was a mystery yet he radiated this vibrant energy as the guys finished their rounds, walking off with grace in his step as he laughed at something Nav -- one of the three’s friends -- had said. The girls bid their goodbyes to their families as they headed over to where the guys were before their rounds. AJ immediately came running over to them, hugging Y/N and Kalani simultaneously before giving his girlfriend a quick kiss on the lips. “You did great,” Kalani smiled, keeping her arms wrapped around his center.

“Alright, not in front of me,” Y/N grimaced, looking away from them. Immediately her eyes landed on the new surfer, still talking to Nav, and she was quick to turn back to AJ to ask who he is. “Hey, who’s the new guy?”

Looking over his shoulder, AJ saw who she was talking about before realization dawned on him. “Oh, that’s Harry. He’s from England. A really nice guy, I bet you’d like him,” he winked, causing Y/N to look at him with squinted eyes and pursed lips.

Kalani nudged his side, giving him a weird look. “What? I’m just saying.”

Then, speak of the Devil, Nav and this Harry guy came walking over, joining the three as they stood around waiting for the announcement that the girls could head out. Y/N wasn’t exactly paying attention to her surroundings as she continued to calm herself down for the impending near future. It wasn’t until Harry had stood in front of her, that she was knocked out of her own thoughts.

She looked up at him, making eye contact and briefly getting her breath caught in her throat. When he was far away, it was hard to make out his facial features or what he exactly looked like. But being right in front of him, she was merely astonished at his beauty, but more so his green eyes that reflected the perfect amount of sunlight. His wet, brunette hair rested against his forehead and seemed to be drying a bit curly.

His head tilted slightly, an amused smirk inching up his face as he watched her reaction. Something tells her he’s used to this kind of reaction. “M’Harry.”

His hand came between the two of them, waiting for her to grasp it in a firm grip. Y/N was hesitant at first but finally took his hand and shook it gently while greeting herself before dropping her hand back down to her side. “Y/N.”

This is insanely awkward. Especially because her friends are just watching the exchange silently, as if they weren’t allowed to speak while the two introduced themselves.

Harry has heard of Y/N. It’s hard for anyone involved in the surfing business to not have heard of her. Aside from the jarring news from last year, she’s an excellent surfer and her name is always spreading around like wildfire. She’s part of the reason Harry decided to delve more into the professional surfing world, because he’s been itching to meet her.

Y/N is attractive, anyone with eyes knows that, but Harry wanted to meet her only because of her expansive skills in the water. Standing in front of her, he can’t deny her undying beauty -- and if he weren’t such a gentleman he’d probably be trying to woo her this very instant. But, her looks aren’t what draws him to her, and he decides to not think with his dick for once.

Before he gets the chance to say something else to her, they get notified that the girls should start heading out for their rounds. Y/N and Kalani grab their boards and tuck them under their arms before bidding their goodbyes to the boys and scurrying off to join the rest of the girls.

“Whipped already?” Nav jokes, wrapping his arm around Harry’s shoulders and leading them to the sand where they’ll watch.

Y/N steps her toes into the water, basking in the cool feeling wrapping around her toes and surging up her body. She rolls her neck feeling it crack softly before rolling her shoulders back and taking in her umpteenth deep breath of the day. Her and Kalani looked at each other, nodding with smiles on their faces before they walked deeper in the shallow water until it reached the middle of their thighs before dropping their boards down and paddling out.

At the sight of a small wave heading toward her, Y/N dipped herself beneath the water just to wet her hair. It felt refreshing again to feel the salt coax her skin for the second time that day, as if it never left. When she greeted the air again, she could immediately feel the rays of the sun bouncing off of her skin, illuminating her in a heavenly glow, like the star she is. The spotlight is on her as she aims herself for the peak of the impending wave, nabbing the first ride of the girls’ round.

Back on the beach, her mom’s fingers were crossed, her dad’s breath was caught in his lungs, and Harry’s eyes were fixated on her figure as she jumped up on the belly of her board. Her legs kept her balance against the rough matter below her. Due to the steep wall of the wave, Y/N had to act quick and rational in order to keep control, and started off with an off-the-lip, which kept her parallel with the wave before she moved herself down and carved herself back into the energy zone.

Because it was a smaller wave, she could only go on for so long before she tipped herself off the board and fell down into the water. Everyone waited with bated breaths and kept their eyes on the area she sunk beneath the blue, before sighing in relief to see her head pop back up. Harry could see the joy wipe over everyone’s faces, replacing the worry that was once there as they hugged one another. He could tell Y/N has such a good support system, and it only urges him more to want to be a part of her life.

Of this life.

❊ ❊

“You guys did so good! We’re so proud,” Y/N’s mom gushed as she pulled her into a warm embrace -- a hug that holds more meaning than just being proud. Her mom was relieved. Grateful. Happy. She’s able to hold her daughter one more time, and that’s all she could ask for. “It’s going to be a good year for all you kids.”

Y/N felt like she was on cloud nine. She was elated, overjoyed, ecstatic, riding such a good high. Her comeback couldn’t have gone any better and she’s just so, so happy. Arriving at the beach she was nervous and anxious and was two seconds away from caving to her fears and running away. Now, as she walks arm-in-arm with her best friend away from the water for the night, she’s laughing a genuine laugh and her veins are currently pumping excitement rather than nerves.

AJ locked his arm over her shoulders, the three of them linked just like they always are as they head towards Y/N’s family van. But, instead of like other times, this time they have a tag-a-long trailing behind them. It’s sort of like a tradition where after every competition, all of the families join together and head to dinner at their usual restaurant. Nav couldn’t come because he had his own family matters to attend to but Harry was more than willing to accept the offer. He says he came to Hawaii alone and that he had nothing better to do, but his intense stare on Y/N when he accepted the offer says that’s not the only reason he was so quick to join.

It was also part of the tradition that they ride together in the van, 1) because it was the most spacious vehicle where they were able to ride together and 2) because Y/N’s parents are pretty fun to be around. They blasted the best music and made the best jokes, causing not one dull car ride. When they filed in, AJ and Kalani pushed themselves to the back seat, leaving Y/N and Harry to sit in the separate middle row chairs.

“Oh! Harry, I’m sorry, I forgot to ask. Does your family want to join us? They’re more than welcome to,” Y/N’s mom looked over her shoulder in the passenger seat.

He cleared his throat, looking up from his phone and sitting up a bit in his seat, an uncomfortable look on his face. “M’here alone, actually.”

Before anyone could ask any questions, AJ clapped Harry’s shoulder, saying, “We’re your temporary family now, man.” Despite being competitors, it seems the two of them really hit it off and AJ genuinely meant what he said about being Harry’s family. Though, everyone knows the main reason he said it was to diminish the rising tension.

“Thanks, mate,” Harry returned, fist bumping AJ. And during the little exchange, Harry caught eyes with Y/N, catching her eyes wandering around his profile and facial features, causing her to look away quickly and look out the window as if the view was something spectacular. She could hear him snicker quietly, and just when she thinks the coast is clear, she slyly looks back at him just to find out he’s already staring at her.

They really love staring at one another apparently.

When they arrived at the restaurant, Y/N and Harry were pushed to the back of the group -- not really by choice but somehow it ended up that way -- and neither of them really made any moves to break the silence between them. Y/N because she was nervous, and Harry because he wanted her to be the first to speak. And it just so happened that when they were sat at a table, they were left with the last two remaining chairs that also happened to be right next to each other. Y/N couldn’t figure out if they were doing this on purpose or it was by coincidence, but she can tell Harry doesn’t mind.

She’s not one to be nervous around guys, but there’s something about Harry and how he is so blatantly interested in her that makes her wary of talking to him. Kalani sat across the table from her, and when they made eye contact, they had a silent conversation about how Y/N should grow the balls and actually talk to him. Of course Y/N refused, which earned her a kick to the shin in retaliation, which then caused her to let out a yelp of pain and made everyone look at her confused and worried.

“Sorry, hit my knee on the table,” she brushed it off, glaring at her best friend the moment everyone turned away and continued with their own conversations.

Being as slick as possible, Kalani directed her eyes to Harry when he wasn’t looking so Y/N could see her, before turning to AJ and talking to him about something completely irrelevant. Again, Y/N and Harry were stuck in this silence. She’s not exactly sure why she can’t just start a conversation, but he’s kind of intimidating and she’s afraid of embarrassing herself, especially in front of her family.

Pursing her lips and looking down to her lap, Y/N finally turned to give Harry her attention, noticing how he was staring into space, looking completely lost in this foreign setting. “So, uh, where exactly are you from?”

Harry was quick to turn his head to Y/N, waiting and waiting and waiting for the moment she would say something. “A small town in Cheshire. Northwest of London, if that helps.”

“That’s a pretty far trip to take alone,” she nods, licking her bottom lip before gently biting down on it. As much as she thinks of herself as an independent person, she’s also an extreme homebody and could never imagine going anywhere without anyone by her side, whether it be family or friends.

He merely shrugs in response, “M’better off alone.”

Y/N cocked her head to the side while looking at him, letting his words sizzle inside her mind as she tries to overanalyze him in the mere hours she’s known him. She turned her gaze down to her hands that were intertwined in her lap, mulling over her next words to say. She doesn’t know him, but she knows the feeling of being alone. And being alone, no matter how appealing it could sound, never works out in the end. People aren’t meant to live alone. It goes against the natural order of life, and just hearing him say he prefers being alone breaks her heart just the tiniest bit. “No one’s better off alone. Everyone needs someone eventually.”

Little does she know, is that she is his someone. Or, at least that’s what Harry’s hoping. He thinks he’s crazy for being so enthralled by someone so suddenly and so strongly, but Harry’s always been one to trust his gut. His plushie but toned gut was screaming at him that this girl is just meant to be in his life. Maybe meant to be his, but he won’t push his luck. “Guess we’ll have to wait an’ see.”

They both smiled softly at one another, a small blush creeping up Y/N’s cheeks for the umpteenth time that day. “I guess we will.”

❊ ❊

It had been a little over two weeks since qualification day. Her days hadn’t changed much in regards to her schedule; Waking up at the ass crack of dawn and heading straight into the water and staying in practically until the sun was set. But, there was one slight shift in her day, and that was the now familiar face of Harry popping in everyday, either physically or in her mind.

It was safe to say Harry was quickly adapting to the three friends, merging with them seamlessly; As if he had been part of this little group since he was a child. It’s not like any of them minded, especially AJ because he was happy to get another guy around. Their friend Nav wasn’t exactly a permanent part of their little group because he belonged to everyone and no one, but Harry stuck around them like glue and AJ was so grateful.

Y/N’s grateful because now she isn’t a third-wheel.

Harry and her aren’t exactly buddy-buddy, but it definitely helps having someone else around for movie night so Y/N isn’t stuck watching her best friend’s all cuddled up together and hearing the occasional kiss they would share.

Though, Harry has made it known time and time again that he really wants to be buddy-buddy with her. And Y/N’s not exactly sure why she won’t give him what he wants, but for some reason she loses all comprehensive skills and becomes a blubbering, nervous mess around Harry whenever he brings up his interest in her. So, she’s successfully avoided all buddy-buddy conversations with him by bringing up mundane things instead. Like, why she decided to paint her nails blue, or why she absolutely despises white socks.

She thought she was doing a pretty skillful job too. But, after the first two times she avoided giving a yes or no answer to going on a date with him, Harry purposely would ask her just to hear what other obscure distractions she could come up with. He loved hearing Y/N talk, and without her knowing, he was getting to know her piece by piece, inch by inch, and he was loving it.

Though, a guy’s ego can only take so many rejections before he gives up completely. And just when he was ready to call it quits and accept that she wasn’t interested in him like he was her, the unexpected happened.

Y/N agreed to a date.

Well, kind of.

It was time for the Hawaiian Pro. The official first event of the Vans Triple Crown. It was taking place at Ali’i Beach Park in Hale’iwa, one of the most intense surfing spots filled with waves of many different faces. Of course, this is when Y/N’s nerves really started to kick in. Qualification day isn’t anywhere near as filled with people as the actual events are, and her nerves have seemed to kick it into high gear. It doesn’t help that the Hawaiian Pro is when her life changed a year ago. She could hear people whispering about her, wondering if she’s going to wipe out again or if this time she’ll stay under the water. Her mind was already frenzied enough, but nothing completes the cycle like a panic attack and the embarrassment of many on-goers witnessing said panic attack.

She almost backed out. How is she meant to be the best when her body is afraid of taking its final breath? The tide was high and the waves showed no mercy. How is she meant to challenge that? How is she meant to control the water beneath her when she can’t even control her own thoughts?

It was getting to be too much for her. This entire time leading up to the Triple Crown she’s denied her fear and her anxiety, telling herself she’ll get over it. She’s been doing good all year, so what makes now any different? But it is very different. The calm atmosphere of her backyard is no match for the rambunctious setting of the Triple Crown. And she’s a fool for thinking differently.

So, she was panicking.

Y/N couldn’t even get up from her seat in her parent’s van because she was so shaky. Her father held her close, easing her back to reality and away from her tortuous mind. Of course, he offered to drive them back home and away from the competition, telling her again that she didn’t have to prove herself to anyone. But, she declined again. Because she needed to prove it to herself. She’s stronger than her mind lets on, and she needs to make sure she knows that.

When she slid off her board and sank her toes back into the warm sand after a very successful first round, landing her in the lead spot, she was finally able to breathe again.

People congratulated her on her comeback, astonished to see her doing better than ever before. Her parents embraced her with love and elation, so beyond happy to see her laughing and smiling and enjoying herself now that she’s progressing forward. Kalani of course is her number one supporter, practically jumping on her and screaming in her ear about how happy she is for her best friend.

Everyone was making their rounds hugging Y/N, and then it was Harry’s turn. They didn’t exactly embrace like the rest of them had, but he threw his arm over her shoulders and pulled her to his side, squeezing her to him softly before looking down at her and saying, “Absolutely wicked, love. Gotta teach me some of y’fancy moves.”

“You sure? They’re really only meant for the pros,” she teased, biting at her bottom lip to conceal her laughter as he scoffed.

“”Ey, no one likes a narcissist,” he shoved her shoulder softly, rolling his eyes as her laughter rang through his ears. “But, whaddya say? M’gonna need a good teacher if I wanna make it to the big leagues.”

Y/N simply shrugs without really thinking much into it, “Sure.” Her mind didn’t exactly process what she had agreed to until later that night, before she dozed off into her temporary slumber. Her eyes shot open and her body sat upright as an over dramatic gasp was inhaled into her lungs. Her mind had been all over the place with the competition that she didn’t realize that she had agreed to being alone with Harry for the first time since they'd met. Immediately she texted and called Kalani, to which she got laughed at in return.

“Kalani, this isn’t a laughing matter!”

A few miles away, Harry was snuggled into his bedsheets, a bright smile stretched across his face as he reveled in the idea that he finally was going to be alone with Y/N since the first time they’d met. His heart was jumping and his stomach was fluttering as he envisioned her pretty face behind his eyelids before he drifted off into his dream with her.

“It so is! C’mon, Y/N, what have you got to lose? You have the same interests, he’s funny, he’s hot, and he clearly is into you. Enjoy something outside of surfing for once.”

Enjoy something outside of surfing for once.

That’s the thought that stuck in her mind, lingering around as she finally fell asleep, and then when she woke up, and when she was eating breakfast; And doing her chores; And hanging out with Kalani; And eating dinner; And then falling asleep again. Y/N didn’t even realize she had spent so much of her past year focusing on her career and health that she hasn’t done much of anything else.

She’s so grateful to be alive, but she’s hardly given herself the chance to live again.

Before her accident, she was always up for adventure and was always the life of any party. After her accident, she hasn’t even been to a party. She hasn’t been in a relationship in years, she hasn’t gone on a date in a long time, and she can’t even remember the last time she’s had sex or kissed a guy. She’s been so focused on her redemption, that she can’t remember the last time she was genuinely happy.

Going on this date, but also not a date -- but also clearly a date -- with Harry just may provide her with that. And she owes it to herself, to her past self, that her accident isn’t going to shape her life anymore.

Plus, she really enjoys Harry’s company. And even if she doesn’t show it so bluntly like him, she really likes him too.

The next day, Y/N and Kalani had gone out shopping, enjoying a nice girls day out. They had bought a few new varieties of swimsuits (as if they didn’t have enough) and a few other types of clothes, got some lunch, and even found time to watch a movie. And they did all of this right up until the moment Y/N decided it was time to text Harry.

She wasn’t sure how to go about this, because she’s never really asked anyone on a date before, or followed up with plans (?) about a date. Kalani kept urging her to just rip the bandaid off and to get it over with, saying something along the lines of, “You’re not getting any younger. Plus, I think he’d slip right off his board at the sight of you in that new yellow suit you got.” It was just a simple bikini, but it showcased the majority of her skin that essentially left little to the imagination.

But, the thing is, whenever Y/N gets into the water around people, she can’t help but cover her torso with a wet-shirt, insecure of the imperfections that lined her skin. It’s rare she can bear to look at her skin, so she only assumes no one else would want to either. So, she’s not so sure he’ll fall off his board at the sight of her, but the thought is nice.

Y/N pulled out her phone and hovered over his contact for a good amount of time before Kalani grew impatient and snatched the phone from her friend’s hand. They wrestled around with each other to try and gain custody of the phone, but finally in the end Y/N was able to hold her phone tight in her hands before declaring, “Okay! Okay! I’m texting, I’m going.”

Kalani peaked over Y/N’s shoulder as she watched her type the allusive message to Harry, a proud smile carving over her lips as she watched her break down a barrier she had subconsciously put up. It isn’t by any means important to be in a relationship or to have a boyfriend, but Kalani knows deep down that Y/N was wishing to have that special connection only a relationship could provide -- a connection outside of the realm of friendships.

“There,” Y/N huffed, shoving the screen of her phone in her best friend’s face.

hii, if you’re still up to learn from a true professional, I’m available tonight :)

It wasn’t even ten seconds later that she got a reply.

Shit, I’ll be your best student, babe. I know a perfect spot, I’ll be at yours in an hour.

It was kind of amusing to Y/N that he said he knows a perfect spot, as if she hadn’t been living on this island all her life and practically knows it like that back of her hand. But, that miniscule thought was pushed to the very depths of her mind as panic coursed through her as she realized what she was getting herself into. She’s going on a date, not a date, but also a date with Harry, and a small hour wasn’t enough time to gain her composure.

Fuck.

❊ ❊

It’s no surprise to Y/N when Harry shows up to her house a minute early. She’s half convinced that he had been waiting outside of her house for the past fifteen minutes until he finally stepped up on to the porch of her house, knocking rapidly on the door. It wasn’t an emergent knock that caused some sort of panic, but it was a frantic knock that screamed ‘let’s get the show on the road.’

When she opened the door, both of their breaths were robbed from their lungs. Y/N essentially looked like she always did but something about her glowed differently to Harry; maybe it was because she’s his for the night. For his eyes only. Just him and her. He was awestruck.

Harry essentially looked like he always did but something about him radiated differently to Y/N. The same little smirk was nestled in its usual spot, but this one held a different meaning. It looked the same, but maybe it was different because it was just her and him tonight. He’s hers for the night. For her eyes only. Y/N was nervous.

Y/N left her board out on her porch so she wouldn’t have to walk around back when he got here, but she was silently wishing she didn’t so she’d get just a couple more seconds to get herself together. She just kept chanting, “It’s not a date!” in her head, in hopes it would make her feel better.

It didn’t.

Harry saw her board and tucked it under his left arm as he threw his right one over her shoulders guiding her his mode of transportation. It also wasn’t a surprise to Y/N to see Harry rolling up in a light yellow Jeep; the top down and the doors off, typical of any surfer dude, no matter where they originate.

“Her name’s Betty,” he smiled, walking around the back and giving her a quick tap on her rear end before stepping up to straddle Y/N’s board safely and securely.

Sliding through the empty passenger door to take her seat, Y/N was greeted by a familiar smell, a smell she could only associate with Harry. And even if she could never admit it, she loved it a lot. It was mouth-watering and intoxicating, and simply put, it was Harry. Even with the open atmosphere of the car, it was still drenched in this specific smell, and Y/N can’t help but giggle at the image of Harry spritzing whatever cologne into the car before arriving at her house.

A few moments later, Harry slid into the driver side, placing the sunglasses that were sitting on the dash over his eyes, shoving the key into the ignition and starting them on their journey to whatever beach he had envisioned. On the ride there, over the course of a few right turns and lefts and different exits on the highway, Y/N surprisingly had no idea where they were going. Did she think maybe he was gonna murder her? A bit. But, she felt comfortable around Harry. So, she felt it in her gut that she was going to come out alive from this… event.

When they got to the beach, it was about thirty minutes from Y/N’s house, and she had no idea where they were. They had to walk a short path to meet sand and ocean, but once they made it past the clearing, Y/N was in awe of the site ahead of her. People could think that seeing the ocean every day ruins the peaceful and magical aura surrounding it. But, Y/N never gets sick of greeting it. The sun was beginning to set, and the water was glowing with a yellow-pink hue by the horizon that blended into a bright blue by the shore. The cliff sides around them guarded the little alcove, feeding into the tranquil atmosphere.

“How did you find this place?” Y/N wondered as she kicked off her sandals, and shimmied her shorts down her legs before kicking them over her sandals. The yellow bottom of her bikini was visible, and she turned her head just as Harry took a large gulp at the sight of her in front of him; Just for him. Her blue wet-shirt stayed on though.

It piqued Harry’s interest as to why she never took off her shirt. He understood for the competitions, but even when it was just a casual outing, just him and her, or them and their friends, she always kept it on. It wasn’t his place to ask, but he wished she would’ve broken this barrier down just this once. Just for him. “Tha’s a secret for me to know and you to maybe find out.”

Y/N let out a giggle - why? she didn’t know - and turned her attention back to the boy that brought her here, her eyes nearly popping out of her head as she caught Harry taking off his white t-shirt, now only clad in his little pink shorts next to his little pink board. His skin looked extra dewy, and his tattoos seemed to glint under the setting sun. Before she could devour him with her eyes, she picked up her board and took it with her, running down to the water and shouting, “C’mon slow-poke, gotta get in the water before the sun sets!”

It wasn’t a surprise to Y/N that this didn’t keep on track of a teaching lesson. Harry doesn’t need to be taught, he’s amazing on his own. He pulled off his own tricks that Y/N didn’t even know the name of, and she was asking him to let her in on his little secrets. He locked his lips in return, throwing the imaginary key somewhere over his shoulder, “Y’think I’m g’na tell you? I’m far too narcissistic to let you beat me at my own game.”

“Who said I’m gonna beat you?”

“Have you met you?”

There’s a reason Y/N’s name circulates throughout people’s brains, why her name is common in any Hawaiian household, why Harry was itching to meet her. She’s good at what she does. Insanely good that it’s kind of concerning. Not everyone can come back from a life-altering experience, but Y/N took those stereotypes and crushed them beneath the tail of her infamous yellow surfboard. She reveled in the doubts and came back stronger than ever. Of course she would beat him at his own game. She’s the only one who could.

There wasn’t any telling how long they had been riding wave after wave, in the water with no one else but just each other. But, the sun almost halfway past the horizon line was a good giveaway. They were probably nearing the two hour mark, and they knew they couldn’t stay out here all night, but Jesus, how they wished they could. Y/N wasn’t expecting to be so content, thinking this would be some strange, awkward, uncomfortable time they would want to forget about the moment they left each other’s sides.

It’s the opposite.

Just for him. Just for her.

They both laid on their boards, limbs sprawled out and dangling into the water as their bodies shut down in exhaustion. Y/N can’t remember the last time she went so long without taking at least a ten minute break. Her body was most definitely not used to it as she felt her back mold into her little yellow board, accepting the relaxation. When she finally opened her eyes back up, she turned her head to the side, admiring Harry’s profile as his arms were pulled over his head, the skin of his torso being stretched, which also stretched the ink that adorned him.

Y/N got lost in the mirage that is Harry, that she didn’t even realize he had turned his head and caught her ogling. It wasn’t until he cleared his throat that her eyes snapped to his, heat traveling up through her body and rushing to her cheeks. “M’eyes are up here, love.”

“Uh- right. Yeah, I know.”

“Cool. Hey d’y’wanna play twenty questions?” He asked, sitting up to straddle his board and paddling himself around so he was facing her.

Y/N squinted her eyes, “Are we children?”

“I mean, I guess not. Doesn’t stop my five year old humor though,” he smiled, kicking his foot up to splash her with an inkling of water as his childlike, petty comeback. “You ask first.”

Y/N pushed her hand through the water to spray him in an ounce of sea salt before turning her head back to the sky, contemplating her first question. “Mm… favorite color?” She already knew the answer.

“And you asked me if we’re children? C’mon, darling, know you wanna know more than tha’. Pink. What was your first impression of me?” He wiggled his eyebrows, even though she couldn’t see his face. This has been one of those things that’s been nagging at the back of his mind ever since they first met. Their first encounter wasn’t awkward per-se, but the fleeting moment of introduction wasn’t exactly one worth remembering either. But, Harry was always going to remember it. And depending on Y/N’s answer, he hopes she will too.

At this, she turned her head back to Harry, hand covering her eyes as the sun glared at them over the reflective water. It was a sight to behold, seeing Harry glow in the golden hour light. “Intimidating. But, also unique,” she began, moving to sit herself up and paddle her board around so she was now facing him. “You remind me of a singular cloud in an otherwise clear sky. You’re not meant to be there, yet you’re not out of place.”

Harry sat for a moment, staring. Completely in awe. Head over heels. Never would’ve guessed those words to be the ones tumbling from her lips. It was the way she didn’t hesitate in her sentence, as if those words had been formulated a while ago and just now was she able to spew it from her wordbank. Just for him. “Fuck, that was beautiful. Your turn.”

“Do you really think you’re better off alone?”

Harry pursed his lips, looking off into the distance for a brief moment before shrugging, “I do. But, I don’t. If it comes down to going back to my family and friends from home or being alone, I’ll choose being alone.” And he wanted to sprinkle in the little bonus that he doesn’t feel alone when he’s around her, but something tells him that’ll just turn her away. “What’re you so afraid of?”

It’s a brash question Y/N wasn’t expecting to be thrown at her so suddenly. She has a mix of answers, and there’s a specific one flashing in her mind like a bright, neon yellow sign, but she’s not certain how comfortable she is with telling him yet. Though, she notices that whatever question she could throw his way, he’d answer it truthfully, not scared of opening himself up, just for her. She wants to be brave like that, and maybe she can be, but she’s not sure how.

It comes as a surprise to her when she does say, “I’m scared of going through everything that happened last year all over again. Everyone’s afraid of dying, or at least most people are, but experiencing death… there’s really no coming back from that. ”

“Experiencing it?” He looks at her wide-eyed.

“What, you haven’t heard of what happened last year?” She looks at him, eyebrows scrunched.

“Only know you had some accident. No offense, but I didn’t really bother myself with reading the fine print,” he shrugs, running his pruney fingers through his salted hair. He didn’t know if he wanted to read it, especially not with the sudden news that apparently this very alive, lively girl in front of him… died? He doesn’t think he could stomach reading about that.

Y/N hasn’t met a single person who hasn’t heard about what happened to her. Or at least the details of it. In reality she doubts anyone outside of Hawaii knows of her existence, but in her world it was the biggest news to affect the state in a while -- aside from, like, actual serious matters, her accident was up there on the news.

She evades his second question though, not wanting to cough up the traumatic details of her past; not yet at least. “Well, it’s my turn anyway. Why surfing?”

“I could just look it up, but I get it; you’ll tell me when you’re ready,” he gave her a playful look, pursing his lips while giving her a pointed stare. “It’s different. England isn’t known for surfing. It’s known for rain and football. But, with every possible detail of m’life, I wanted to make sure I was different. My dad wanted me to become a professional footy player, so I said no. M’mum wanted me to go and get a degree and a real job. I didn’t want that. So, I turned to surfing,” he swung his arms around, gesturing to the vast sea and the board below him.

“Plus, it’s given me an excuse to leave home and come here. And y’know, so I could meet you.”

Y/N felt a small blush creep up her skin again, her eyes shooting down to her lap and her feet that were distorted under the water. Harry’s infatuation with the girl isn’t a secret, but anytime he purposely makes it known, it’s like a little secret that she’s unsure if she’s supposed to know or not. “Meet me?”

Harry kicked his foot up again so water would splash at her. “Uh-uh, my turn,” he laughed, shaking his head. He knew she thought she was slick at the way she bit her lip, containing her laughter. If she wants to play by the rules of the nonsensical game, then so will he. “Sunrise or sunset?”

“Sunset. Favorite song?” She wanted to reel back from the serious talk for a moment.

“Too many to choose from. Favorite movie?” He wanted to know every nitty-gritty detail about her.

She pondered for a moment, “Mamma Mia.”

“No shit! Me too!” His mouth dropped in shock, his hand flying up to his chest.

“Really?”

“No,” he shook his head, immediately blocking the massive splash he sensed coming.

Y/N rolled her eyes, huffing at him whilst crossing her arms over her torso, “Are you always so insufferable?”

“S’my middle name, babe. You hungry?” He laid himself down on his board on his belly, paddling himself to face the beach, ready to make a head start for the beach. Y/N hummed a response, following in suit and settling her stomach against the belly of the board and pushing herself to land. “Cool, let’s go get something to eat then I’ll take you home.”

Y/N’s legs felt weak, yet appreciative back on the sand. It felt like she was walking on Jell-O as she went to pick up her towel and clothes. Looking down to her shirt, she knew it was out of the question to let him see her take it off. And she could turn her back so he wouldn’t see her front -- whether or not it’s clad in a bikini top -- but even then her heart raced at the thought. She held her t-shirt in her hands and thought it over for a moment before blurting, “Could you turn around please?”

Harry looked up from checking his phone quickly, tilting his head in confusion before looking down to the shirt in her hands. The dots are connected and the bright neon pink sign in his head is telling him to listen to her, and not to question it. So, he doesn’t. Just for her. It’s still unbeknownst to Harry why she never takes her shirt off, but he knows better than to think with his dick, and accepts her wishes, turning his back to her.

Y/N lets out a small breath of relief, grateful he didn’t question her on it. She’s quick to rip off her shirt and pat dry her wet skin before hastily throwing on her dry one, giving Harry the OK to turn back around.

“Sorry, I just… I’m not comfortable with anyone seeing my, uh, my scar,” she mumbles, nervously moving her hair from one shoulder over to the other. Harry shrugs in response, picking his board up from the ground and wrapping his arm around her shoulder as they began their walk back to his car.

“You don’ have to explain yourself to me, babe,” he smiled down at her, squeezing her to his side softly.

Y/N looked up at him, and she’s sure that if she could see herself right now, her eyes would be twinkling in delight, with adoration. Just for him. “Thank you.”

They didn’t say anything else for a few minutes, walking the distance to his lonesome Jeep in peace. The silence gave Y/N time to think and to mull over all of the gushy feelings she was feeling inside about the guy beside her. She had no reason not to like him, realizing it was only fear that was pushing her away. But, this night displayed a soft side to Harry that she fell head over heels for. His smooth, easy-going approach to life, mixed in with respect for her, and a hint of witty humor was enough to tell her how she truly feels about him. And she’s scared, not because she’s afraid, but because she’s not.

Y/N can find herself easily opening up to Harry quicker than she has anyone else because she trusts him. She can just tell he’s got nothing to hide, so in-turn she wants to be the same. She doesn’t want to cower away, but revel in happiness. Because she deserves it.

Harry quickly secured the boards back into their previous spots before sliding into the driver side and whisking them away from their little getaway. The wind swept through their hair and chilled their still slightly wet skin, causing goosebumps to trail up Y/N’s arm as chills raked through her body. This time around in the car they both were more laid back, not singing along to the songs playing on the radio but rather just listening and taking in the blissful atmosphere they’ve created.

There’s been one question dancing across her mind though ever since he brought up the little game of twenty questions. It was the first one to pop up in her mind when she was thinking of something juicy to ask. She didn’t want to ask it though, in fear of what his answer would be. But, now she’s not afraid. She’s curious though.

“Is this a date?” She queried, turning the volume of the radio down a bit so he could hear her and vice versa.

Harry glanced at her through his peripheral, one eyebrow cocking up on his forehead, “Is the sky blue?”

“I mean, right now it’s like orange-blue,” she retorted, looking at the newly sun-ridden sky that blended shades of orange into the usual night blue.

“Brainiac. There’s your answer. It’s however you want to look at it,” he digressed, reaching over to pat her thigh - in more of a friendly manner rather than sensual.

She appreciated his answer, absolutely adoring the fact that he wasn’t putting pressure on her about anything. It was hard to comprehend just how nice he truly is, and how someone could be so perfect. She couldn’t see a flaw in his looks or his personality or his morals, and all she could wonder was how someone like him could possibly like someone like her. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like you, Harry.”

He side glanced at her again, this time raising both of his eyebrows in puzzlement, “I’ll take tha’ as a good thing?”

“It’s good. It’s… it’s a good thing.”

❊ ❊

The two of them had discussed where they wanted to go, neither of them wanting to decide and going back and forth with one another, saying, “No, you decide,” “No you.”

Y/N was never good at decisions, especially mundane ones like where to eat. She always lets Kalani decide because she could eat anything, and it’s her friend that’s the picky one. But, Harry is the same way. Whatever is put in front of him, he could probably eat (except for pickles, he absolutely hates pickles).

They settled for pizza. And it was going to be Harry’s first time trying a slice of Hawaiian.

Y/N hates Hawaiian slices, finding the sweetness of the pineapple and the savor of the ham unsettling atop her pizza. It sends her taste buds into shock and her mind into a meltdown. But, she insisted he try it, because how could someone be in Hawaii and not try its state-named slice?

They sat at their little table in the corner of the restaurant that was alongside a window, giggling to themselves as they played a little game of eye-spy, waiting for their food. For some odd reason, Harry was really good at this game, always picking the hardest of objects to point out, always stumping a frustrated Y/N.

“You’re cheating.”

“How the fuck am I cheating?”

“Dunno, you just are.”

And in retaliation to her accusation, Harry pointed to her shirt, stating she got a little soda on it, causing her to look down to her chest and see nothing but finger as he flicked her nose. “Too easy. Sore loser.”

Y/N huffed, sticking her tongue out at him. The playful banter between them was the best part of their days lately. Before Y/N even realized her feelings for Harry, she always looked forward to what they would bicker about -- in a friendly matter of course. Now, she constitutes that to just wanting to see him because she really enjoys his company, and him.

It’s been a long time since she’s felt this way about anyone, and she’s sort of glad she gets to feel this way about Harry. He’s an enigma, but a good one. She’s totally transfixed by him and she never wants this euphoria to end. He radiates this bright and bubbly energy that lifts her mood whenever she’s around him, and she’s afraid of losing that. But, she chooses not to dwell on the what-if, instead completely basking in the present and his gooey aura of happiness.

When the food finally came out, they both were quick to stuff their faces, their stomachs practically turning inside-out from how hungry they were. It came to no surprise to Harry that he was absolutely in love with this Hawaiian slice, already looking forward to ordering two more.

Y/N looked at him a tad worried. He was scoffing down three slices as if there were no tomorrow, all within a matter of two minutes. She was slightly worried he was going to reach over and take her dinner, because that’s how hungry he seemed to be. But, he should know better than to get between Y/N and her food. Like the one time he tried to take some of her fries, to which she punched him in the shoulder and then took them back.

“Hey, y’gonna eat that?” He points to her not yet touched slice of pizza, earning a glare that could kill in response. “Cool, you are, just making sure. Can’t let precious food go t’waste. It’s my turn for a question right?”

Y/N thinks back for a second to determine if he’s right or not, remembering she did ask a question last. She nodded her head before biting into her little piece of heaven.

“Was it hard getting back in the water?”

She brought her napkin up to her mouth to wipe away the drop of sauce she felt on her cheek, mulling over her answer. “Kinda. I knew I had to eventually because it’s all I know, it was just a matter of when. My parents were terrified, and I mean I was too but I can’t let that dictate my future. I love surfing and nothing is going to take that away from me.”

Not even something as horrifying as death could take her away from her true love. Not until she’s truly six-feet under, riding silver waves in the silver palace.

“Do you think you’re going to stay here? In Hawaii?” Y/N wondered, taking a sip of her Coke.

“Got nowhere else to be,” he shrugged, mindlessly tapping his fingers on the table in an arrhythmic pattern. “Home is where the heart is, right? Well, think mine’s here right now.” Across from her. Just for her.

Home is where the heart is.

“Does it count if my heart isn’t mine?”

Last year, Y/N was going about her day like she always did. She was fine, in tip-top shape just like she had been for the past twenty years of her life. The bright sun was out and shining over all of the surfers and onlookers, and it seemed just like every other regular day. She was paddling out into the water, and the perfect, golden first wave was approaching her. She pushed herself up onto her feet, balancing her body, in tune with the wave, executing a nearly perfect opener. Then, she felt her chest tighten and her body suddenly felt weak. Breathing rapidly grew difficult, causing her to instantly panic. She fell off her board, plummeting into the water, trying to gasp for air but choking on the sea that swimmed down her throat.

Feeling herself sink as her chest was on fire was the last she remembered. The baby blue sky blended into black and that was it. Her life was over.

Kalani was the one who went in after her, screaming for help as her best friend was blue in the face and not moving.

Y/N suffered a heart attack. Apparently, she had a condition called hypertrophic cardiomyopathy, that went unnoticed all her life. On this day, her heart had thickened extensively, making it difficult to pump blood to the rest of her body. The strain on her heart caused it to give out, right when she was feeling the high of riding a solid wave. She was pronounced dead for a total of forty-five seconds before EMT could revive her. Supposedly she’s lucky to be alive, because if not treated basically instantly, there’s a slim chance of survival. But, she was able to stick it out until the hospital.

Her heart was in brutal shape, so she was sent to the top of a donor waiting list. Y/N and her family are forever grateful for the team of doctors and nurses that stuck by her side, knowing she wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for them. Or her sheer luck.

Y/N felt a little crazy for feeling so comfortable spilling all of this information so suddenly to Harry, but at the same time she didn’t. And the best part about it is that none of it seems to freak Harry out. Nothing about who she is or how she is scares him. And that’s what makes her feel so comfortable. “My scar, it’s from a heart transplant. I had a heart condition all my life apparently. Then suddenly one day, it couldn’t handle it anymore, so it gave out. A girl named Shauna’s heart is keeping me alive right now.”

Harry didn’t blink for a whole minute.

He opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water, trying to come up with something, anything to say to the girl across from him. But, he had nothing. He didn’t know what to say.

His silence was a little concerning to Y/N, making her wish she could just be swallowed whole by the ground below her. Was it too soon to drop the HT bomb? He was bound to find out eventually, and she figured it was best to rip the bandaid off on her own time rather than someone else telling him or him looking it up on Google.

She’s kicking herself over it.

Harry cleared his throat, taking a sip of his water before licking his lips and leaning back in his chair. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

Y/N merely shrugged, “Don’t be. Shit happens. Who knows, if it never happened we may not be here now.”

Harry raised his eyebrows, his signature small smirk back on his face in its usual spot. He raised his glass, leaning it forward a bit toward her, stating, “Cheers to that, babe.” She raised her own glass and clinked it against his, a smile on her lips as she sucked up the remaining bit of her soda through her straw. She’s happy he didn’t turn and run away.

Cheers to that, babe.

By the time they both filled their guts to the point of feeling overstuffed, mindlessly chatting and spending time together, it was already past ten o’clock. The time had passed them by like it was nothing, but they weren’t necessarily complaining. The older couple next to them were though. Y/N had to pull Harry out of the restaurant before he bit the woman’s head off for how rude she was. That’s when they knew it was time to skedaddle.

Then they just drove around for another hour before Harry figured it was time to bring her home, much to his dismay. But, when her head lolled against the passenger seat headrest and her eyes would softly shut in exhaustion. He wanted desperately to reach over and tuck the loose strand of hair that fell out of her ponytail, behind her ear. He wanted to reach over and place his hand on her thigh as they drove down the highway, softly squeezing her skin before teasingly inching up towards her hidden gem.

Is it too soon to be in love?

It was like a slap in the face when Harry parked in front of her house. Reality stuck its nose into their little wonderland bubble, and unfortunately, they couldn’t push it back out.

Harry hopped out of his seat, unfastening her board from the trunk and tucking it under his arm as they walked side-by-side to her front door. He gently placed it down where he had initially found it earlier on, tucking his lips into his mouth as he stuck his hands in his pockets.

“I uh… I guess this is it. I had a really ni-”

“I’ve got one more question before you leave me,” he interrupted her little speech, stepping impossibly closer to her, barricading her between him and the banister on her porch. It wasn’t hard to notice the long stares at her shiny lips that glinted in the dull yellow glow of the light by the door. He purposely took extra time to rake over the features of her face before finally meeting her eyes.

Y/N swallowed nothing but air as she softly bit at her bottom lip, “Yeah?”

She already knew his question.

“Can I kiss you?”

He already knew her answer.

Y/N slyly looked at him, bringing her hands up, a bit hesitant to rest on his shoulders. “I thought this wasn’t a date.”

“Sky’s blue.” Y/N looks up at the sky and notices it’s dark blue hue, twinkling stars layers on top, surrounding the fullest, brightest moon. It was a beautiful sky, perfect to share a first kiss under.

He leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers as his hands came up to her hips. Her eyes fluttered shut, waiting for the climactic moment to overcome them, the air of the night chilling up her spine.

But, then she felt fiery, red hot as their lips locked together in a soft kiss. It was as soft as they felt towards one another. This giddy, slow paced, admiring kiss that had their insides melting but their hearts pounding. This kiss is exactly how Y/N images Harry. A pale yellow that’s not harsh on the eyes, that resonates happiness. Harry imagines it as a hot pink, one that takes his breath away and captures his mind.

It wasn’t long before it turned heated, Harry’s tongue sweeping into her mouth, and one of his hands travelling further south to grab hold of the flesh of her behind. Y/N let out a soft moan into his mouth as her hands tangled into his mound of curls, tugging softly on his roots.

Then the disturbing image of either one of her parents opening the front door at any moment flashed across her eyes, causing her to pull back, kissing his bottom lip softly before trailing her thumb over the swollen skin and opening her eyes to look into his gaudy, green ones.

The sounds of their breaths mingled together as tired smiles adorned their faces, little giggles leaving each of their mouths as they basked in what just happened. All Harry could think was, ‘It’s about damn time.’ All Y/N could think was, ‘Why did I ever push him away?’

“My turn,” she spoke after a few moments, standing up straighter and fixing her shirt around her body. “Pick me up tomorrow?”

A wide, shit-eating grin spread out across Harry’s face as he ran his hand through his mangled curls. “Sunrise. If y’not in this exact spot in the morning, m’knocking the door down and dragging you out by y’hair.” He hopped down off the porch, completely skipping the steps as the adrenaline of their first kiss kicked into his system.

“Sunrise,” she agreed.

He hopped back into the driver’s side of his Jeep, throwing his hand up in a goodbye wave as he sped away, already counting down the seconds until he would see his golden ray of bright and bubbly sunshine again. He’s not so sure if he’ll be able to fall asleep.

Y/N didn’t have that same problem. The moment she landed on her bed, her eyes shut faster than the speed of light, her last conscious thought being of Harry. Her smile never leaving her face.

❊ ❊

Meeting at sunrise had become part of their routine. Not always to surf, but just to be together. Sometimes they surfed at their little alcove, other times they would watch the sun from her backyard, snuggled up in blankets on the beach. Or, they would surf, get breakfast, then fall back asleep in his bed until a more decent hour of morning.

But, their day always began at sunrise. It would be the equivalent to say that it also ended at sunset, but sunset was always too soon to part ways.

This wasn’t an everyday occurrence, mostly at random. Except for Sundays. Sundays are specifically their day, as per request of Harry. How could he be in love with a girl that coined yellow as her color, that had a smile as bright as the huge burning star, that claimed golden hour was prime sun time, and not deem Sunday as their day? He didn’t put any second thought into it.

Despite their sort of fast paced first date, they’ve been taking things slow, truly getting used to the feel of one another over the course of the next couple of months. It wasn’t until a month later that Harry popped the question, officially making Y/N his forever buddy-buddy. Well, not necessarily forever, but they both know it’s basically forever.

Harry never wants to be alone again.

It wasn’t until the night after they became official that Y/N finally took her shirt off in front of him. She was going through one of her episodes, and Harry was the only one around who could help her. He managed to calm her down and bring her inside her house - that was empty because her parents had gone out for the night - and get her to the bathroom so she could take a shower.

Initially, he was going to let her get in by herself, knowing her boundaries in regards to her body and not seeing it. But, when he saw how worn down she looked, he whispered words of reassurance in her ear, asking her permission to help get her in the shower. He wasn’t thinking with his dick, he just wanted to help the girl that didn’t know how to help herself.

Y/N looked him in the eyes, nibbling softly on her bottom lip before averting her attention to her chest for a few moments. She trusts him, and if they’re bound to work out, she needs him to be comfortable with seeing all aspects of her both mentally and physically. Which includes her scar.

So, she nods her head in agreement.

She lifted her arms and allowed him to remove her shirt, immediately feeling self-conscious. She couldn’t look him in the eyes as she stepped out of her shorts and underwear, going into the shower to avoid any lingering stares. Harry was quick to follow behind her, shutting the curtain after him. That’s when Y/N turned around and completely broke down, the tears that have been building behind her eyes finally pouring out. Harry wrapped her in his arms, letting her cry her eyes out for however long she needed.

When she stopped, Harry washed her hair, washed her body, washed away her bad thoughts, then washed himself as fast as he could so he could get her into her bed for the night. She snuggled up to his side, enjoying the warmness of his body that contrasted her cool ones.

That night when her parents came home, they spotted Harry’s Jeep in front of their house. Though when the house was eerily quiet, and found the door to her bedroom slightly ajar, they peeked inside and saw the two of them fast asleep. Parents usually would get angry at the sight of their child in bed with someone of a different gender, but not Y/N’s parents.

Over the last two months, they saw their daughter break back out of her shell, slowly returning to her former self, and all because of Harry. They saw how happy she became whenever he was around, or they’d overheard happy she was when just talking about him to Kalani. How could they ever get angry at the fact that Y/N was happy?

With the blossoming of their relationship taking place at the same time as the Vans Triple Crown, word got around fast and soon enough they were the star couple leading the ranks in their respective divisions. The world -- or really the surfing world, because no one really pays attention to professional surfers, was in awe of them. They were the hype of the news, of the town, of the state. Rightfully so, because they’re awfully cute.

It came as no surprise to everyone when the two were crowned the champions. The press went wild with this one, stating there was some scam happening behind the scenes, because what were the odds that this new star couple could both win? Or, how could Harry, a newbie, shoot his way up to the top in just one year? Or, how could Y/N dominate with her physical ailments?

There wasn’t a hoax and there wasn’t any cheating. They both were just that good.

The day of the final competition, they may have worked just a little harder to land the championship title. Harry had picked Y/N up and they traveled to their secret hideaway bright and early in the morning. After being out at a party the night before, the two were in no shape to get in the water already, opting to snooze under the shade of a cliff on the beach for a little while.

They didn’t sleep for very long before they got wrapped up in one another, indulging in a morning session of intimate love. They slept for maybe an hour before Y/N was ready to get her swim on, but Harry was the biggest sack of lazy mush that morning. He didn’t want to get up for nothing. He was laying down on his surfboard, completely comfortable under the shade. Y/N tried tugging on his arms to get him up, but he wouldn’t budge, a half-sleepy and dazed smile on his lips.

At one point he tugged her back, causing her to land on his lap, legs straddling his hips as her face crashed into his chest. His arms wrapped around her back, securing him to her as he said, “See? Isn’t this so much better than physical activity?”

“C’mon tubby, we got shit to do,” Y/N giggled, but Harry just held onto her tighter and nuzzled his cheek to the top of her head.

He hummed, “S’comfortable here.”

Y/N didn’t know what else to do, so the only maneuver left was bribery. Harry’s no different than any guy in the sense that once sex is brought into the mix, his ears perk up and his dick stiffens. So, Y/N was going to use that to her advantage. “If you get up, you can fuck me all night tonight.”

Harry was quick to sit up, her still in his lap, eyes squinted in suspicion. Y/N bit her lip to refrain from laughing, but she was mentally patting herself on the back. His hands shifted down her back to grab onto the flash of her behind, pulling her center closer to his and building up a bit of friction. “How about right now and tonight?”

“I can’t be exhausted for today, H,” Y/N rolled her eyes, moving to get herself off his lap, but he kept her grounded.

“You don’t ‘ave to get in the water now. You’ve practiced, you’re prepared, you got this. The championship is practically in your hands already,” he disclosed, peppering kisses up the side of her neck, a few across her jawline, and then landing on her lips.

Even if that may be true, she doesn’t want that to stop her from putting effort and time into winning. “Harry…” she started, getting lost in the feel of his lips suckling a lovebite right in the crook of her neck, her most sweet spot. He lifted his hips up slightly, pushing against her heat, eliciting the smallest moan from her mouth.

“Bet y’soaking your suit. Can I see?”

They only have a limited amount of time before they need to get to the Northshore at Ehukai Beach Park for the competition. It was about a forty-five minute drive alone. But, Harry’s lips and fingers were way too persuasive, so Y/N nodded her head.

“Good girl.”

He lifted her up so her back was now against the belly of his pink board, her legs immediately wrapped around his broad shoulders as he placed a chaste kiss to her clothed core. She whined as he hooked his fingers into her bikini bottoms, dragging them tortuously slow down her legs. His eyes immediately attracted themselves to her glistening slit, her wetness practically inviting him in. “So fucking pretty, baby.”

Harry’s hands pushed her legs as far apart as they would go, licking a fat stripe up from her little hole to her sensitive clit. Y/N threw her head back as he focused his attention on her clit, swirling his tongue around the little bud before sucking it into his mouth. She was a whimpering mess, but that earned her a smack on the ass and a first warning from Harry.

“No one’s around. Let me hear you loud and clear,” he gave her a pointed look, keeping their eye contact as he went a little further south, pushing the tip of his tongue into her cunt. Y/N tried closing her legs around his head but Harry just pushed them open further, keeping a firm grip on her thighs that were bound to leave bruises. Bruises just for her.

Her jaw fell slack, moans tumbling past her pink lips louder and louder. Her nails dug into his shoulders, most likely leaving scratches he’ll find later when they’re stinging in the shower. Just for him.

Y/N was growing restless as he inserted his middle and ring finger inside of her, pushing and pulling them at an intense pace that caused her toes to curl in the sand by his hips. When he managed to push his index finger in alongside the other two, Y/N began to see stars at the stretch of her walls.

“So tight f’me. Imagine it was my cock instead. Would feel so good and full, but you’d be too exhausted for later, hm?” He cooed, letting her adjust to the extra digit inside of her before fucking her harder and faster than before. He kissed up her tummy that was visible from under her shirt before landing his forehead against hers.

His free hand grabbed a hold of her jaw, making her face him which caused her eyes to open up quickly, locking eye contact with one another. “S’a shame. M’so hard, like a fucking rock. But you’ll be too tired.”

Teasingly, Y/N nodded her head in agreement, earning a hard glare from her lover. At this, he stopped the movement of his fingers, slowly pulling them out of her. Y/N’s mouth opened wide, her eyebrows scrunching in confusion as Harry sucked his fingers past his lips, indulging in her sweetness that tasted like a little sliver of heaven.

“Wh-wha…?”

“Close y’mouth, Y/N. Gonna catch flies,” he smirked, reaching over for her bikini bottoms and sliding them back up her legs until they were nestled against her soaking wet, throbbing pussy. “Said it y’self. Can’t be exhausted for the finale today, gotta be quick on your feet and coasting the gnarliest waves. C’mon slow poke, gotta get some practice in.”

So, Y/N was pissed off to say the least. And because of this, she was extra determined to push herself as far as she could to come out on top today. Harry on the other hand, well he was just mad that he had an insane hard-on that his own girlfriend didn’t want to tend to. He should’ve expected his little stunt wouldn’t go over nicely, but the look on her face when he stopped was absolutely priceless.

When it was announced that Y/N and Harry had won in their divisions everyone was beyond elated at the news, cheers and hugs and kisses spread all around the group. Though when it was their turn to congratulate each other, they looked at each other, small smiles on their faces before they turned to make conversation with someone else. That didn’t stop them from reaching for one another though, slyly interlocking their hands together.

They were whisked away quickly for pictures, holding their trophies high in the air, the biggest smiles on their faces. Y/N’s parents were cheering them on, more specifically her because they were so proud she was able to take her life back. Y/N could cry at the sight of her mother being a blubbering mess, and her dad’s admiration sparkling across his eyes. Though, with the support of her family, Y/N’s mind couldn’t help but wonder about Harry’s family, and how they couldn’t support their son with what he loved.

With this, Y/N squeezed his hand harder, and despite the cameras around them, she leaned up on her tiptoes and placed a kiss to his lips, the clicks of the cameras and the chatter of the crowd increasing. But, neither of them cared as they looked at one another, full of love.

Because that’s what this was. Love.

It didn’t matter that they had only met a little over three months ago, only dating for two months. They were in love. And that’s all that mattered.

Going out to dinner that night, they hardly left each other’s sides. They were being that obnoxious clingy couple that no one likes being around, but they didn’t care. Because they both knew they were in love. An unspoken love that didn’t have to be announced because the whole world knew, and so did they.

“Cheers to the love birds! And for the love of God, could you stop looking at each other like that,” AJ gagged, causing everyone to laugh before they clinked glasses.

When they left the restaurant, Harry and Y/N hopped into Betty, driving around for a little while before they decided to stay at his for the night. It was when the wind was blowing in her hair again, the moon shining above them and shining through her hair, his hand gently on her thigh, squeezing softly in contrast to that morning, that Harry truly felt it. This love that he has for this girl. Love that’s meant just for her. Her, and only her.

This gushy feeling was put on hold for a little while though the moment they walked through the door of his apartment. Y/N was bent over the arm of his living room couch, her one leg bent and on the armrest beside her while the other was trying its best to keep her steady on the ground. Harry’s fist was wrapped up in her hair, proving to make it more difficult for her to keep her balance. Though she wouldn’t want it any other way.

“What’s the matter, babe? You said I could fuck you all night.” Harry’s hot breath coated the shell of her ear, “Y’tired?”

She gasped at a particularly hard thrust that felt like it had hit against her cervix, trying to get the word No out in between her moans and whimpers.

“Hope not. Had me aching all day for your tiny cunt. M’gonna need a few hours to really appreciate it.” She could feel his menacing smirk against her skin as he again thrusted so far deep inside of her, her one leg gave out. If it wasn’t for Harry holding her up, she would’ve fell right over, too weak to even try and get back up.

They went twice on the couch before Harry helped her get to the shower, where they did it again. And then when they finally cleaned themselves, they got into bed, where they did it again, but this one could be classified under love-making. It was slow and sensual and sweet, just like them. Harry paid extra attention to her scar, trailing down the tissue with soft kisses as they softly climaxed together.

It was a little past midnight at this point, and they were both extremely tired. Y/N was on the brink of dozing off into dreamland before Harry interrupted her exhaustion.

“We never finished our game of twenty questions, did we?” He murmured, pushing a strand of her hair behind her ear.

Y/N lazily opened her eyes, shaking her head, “Don’t believe so.”

“Think it’s my turn,” he hummed. “Do you love me?”

There was silence for a brief couple of seconds, making Harry think Y/N had dozed off before answering his question. But, Y/N just needed those seconds to collect her mushed thoughts inside of her mushy brain before giving him a coherent and valid response.

“Yeah. I do.”

Harry smiled, probably the biggest he’s ever smiled, leaning down and taking hold of her face and smashing their lips together in a ceremonious kiss.

“Sick. Ditto, Sunshine.”

#it would mean so much if you tell me what you thought #harry styles one shot #harry styles au #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles writing #harry styles #one direction fanfiction

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chirpsythismorning · 4 months

Text

Still going down the Surfer Boy number rabbit hole and it's getting fucking weird.

Basically I wanted to confirm that the number was visible on merchandise that is still dropping, specifically that Transformers collaboration because I heard about it vaguely, but didn't actually look at it myself to confirm.

And what I discovered is that the number changed...

Original number: 805-45-PIZZA

New number: 775-38-PIZZA

Now, when I saw this I was like SHIT this new number must mean that the original isn't important because apparently they had no problem changing it and leaving it unaccounted for.

But then I called the new number...

And low and behold it's the exact same voice. And mind you this voice is unrecognizable, like it doesn't sound like any automated voice I've ever heard before.

This is actually insane because tbh I did feel like I was reaching on that post yesterday where I talked about how the current message, which comes off like Netflix stopped paying the bill and the number is just unassigned now, could actually be a fake message with some sort of intention behind it.

And it appears that since these two numbers have the exact same voice and even use similar words... it is indeed intentional.

But what's even more crazy is the new message itself...

Current message for the original number:

The phone number you just dialed is available. 2499

Current message for the new number:

The phone number you just dialed has already been assigned to a customer and is parked at numbers dot m-e

Just for some clarity, if you want to check the message for the new number yourself please do. I am 97% certain that is what it says, but the very end I'm not as certain about. I would assume the word dot being used here signifies a period? But it sounds like after that is spells out the word me? So it's technically numbers.me?

I looked that up and it seemed like a dead end, just some telephone number solutions company.

Sort of leaving that part undetermined because I could be wrong about what it says.

What is noteworthy about this new message though is that it contrasts the original. The original number was referred to as 'available'. But the new number 'has already been assigned to a customer' and is 'parked'?

The message itself does sort of align with what people were probably expecting when they called the number after buying the transformer? Because they put it on there knowing people would call it and expect a message on the other end, and so it obviously had to match this idea of it being a pizza place answering. Which makes the customer and parking mentions make it seem like a pick up order or something?

But considering the original number's message has changed, and for some reason includes a mention of the number 2499 at the end, slightly off from the original 4992, I'm curious about what all these references to numbers being available vs. assigned and also changing could possibly mean?

We may know now that the original number is in fact a real (fake) message, and yet I still don't feel that much closer to cracking it.

What the hell is the original message hinting at? And what does this new message maybe add to it?

#byler #stranger things #surfer boy number #easter egg #surfer boy van #st theory #st5 predictions #i should say that as a twelvegate truther i'm not complaining #changing the first three numbers to 775 is actually so personal to me #also i still think the butterfly magnet is relevant in that shot of the number on the fridge...

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erikiara80 · 1 year

Note

Basically birthdaygate is about people thinking the Duffers actually did not forget Will's birthday (despite the Duffers saying they forgot and that it was some sort of a production mistake), the common theory is that Will's birthday secretly plays some huge role canon wise and that Vecna stole Will's memories including his birthday in S2 and that is why the characters do not remember Will's birthday, and that is also why Mike said his life started the day he found El because the memory he has with Will about the kindergarten is also forgotten and I guess this also suggests that Jonathan and Will building the Castle Byers memory has to be forgotten too.

Thank you!

What makes me think that the Duffers didn't forget Will's birthday is that before Vol II people said that when you called the Surfer Boy Pizza number you heard the birthday song, and then they changed it and it was just Argyle's voice. Also Murray telling Joyce (when they're at the motel), that you can arrive late at a one year old child's birthday, because he won't even know what happened and won't remember, but you can't miss a call from kidnappers. Something like that. Like, he didn't have to mention birthdays, but he did.

And at the Rink-o-mania, when Will is skating sad and alone... you can see birthday balloons at one of the tables.

I don't know if his family and friends just forgot about his birthday, or if there's something more sinister going on, but I think we'll see the Rink-o-mania again in S5 (probably in a vision. Whose vision, I don't know). There are pics of Noah/Will in his season finale clothes there. Maybe Noah was just filming some van scenes, but I read that they filmed a lot there, so who know! I'm intrigued.

Another interesting detail. The massacre at the Creel House also happened in March.

#will byers #will byers birthday #birthdaygate

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the-sixxth-sinner · 3 years

Text

Aviable on AO3

Fandom(s): Mötley Crüe

Characters, ships: Nikki Sixx, Vince Neil / ✨v i n i k k i✨

Word count: 6.4k

Rating: 18+ / A-O

Warnings: sex work; internalized homophobia/homophobic slurs; oh yeah, this has a lot of gay smut btw

Summary: 19-year-old West Hollywood playboy Frankie Feranna - or Nikki Sixx, as he presents himself to the general public- is so confident in his heterosexuality that he decided it would be a good idea to offer his services to anyone, as long as they'll pay him. It's not gay if it's only for business, right? That's what Nikki would tell himself until he's approached by Vince, a pretty, sassy, (and horny) fast-food chain worker, who'll make him not only rethink his business methods but also his attraction to the same sex.

A/N: Inspired by the Crüe song Sumthin’ for Nuthin’. This is the first episode of hopefully a series (I’m thinking of 7-10 parts) of self-conclusive tales about the various encounters of gigolo!Nikki in his teenage/ya years. The events are not supposed to be in chronological order but are all set in the late 70s/early 80s, so expect different ages/descriptions of the protagonist in other episodes from this series.

Very special thanks go to the Vinikki Expert™ @arnold-layne for reading this and giving me the motivation that i needed to keep going until I finished it <3

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It was a hot summer’s night, and Nikki had just finished quite the challenging shift at work. Who would’ve guessed that bitch was into that kinky stuff? Sexual frustration really does a number on people’s sanity, he thought, while he carefreely skipped to the next turn of a dimly lit street, but he considered it a job well done, and the generous tip that was given him was the proof of it. The trash scattered around and the police sirens going off in the distance didn’t seem to affect Nikki’s mood: getting some food was the only objective in his mind, and the sleazy diner at the end of the road looked like a five-star restaurant at that moment of the night. Nikki’s eyes lit up at the sight of the sign still flipped on “open” and sped up the pace: he was starving.

He pushed the glass door and entered. It was empty, except for two bored-looking employees - some blond surfer dude and a brunette Latina - chatting behind the counter, and KISS blasting Detroit Rock City through the speakers. He greeted the waiters, sat down at one of the front tables, and skimmed the menu.

“...What about him, huh?” She asked her colleague, nodding towards the boy who just entered, keeping a low tone trying to not let their new customer hear them. “He’s kinda cute!”

The boy looked in the direction she was pointing at. God, more like drop-dead gorgeous. Six feet tall, chiseled jawline, copper brown hair to his shoulders, lips that only a god of love would have. The flickering colored neon lights reflecting on his face gave him an almost otherworldly aspect. He traced the young man’s profile with his gaze, wishing for that image to be engraved on his mind forever, hoping he would never forget it, while butterflies were growing in his stomach and his heart started pounding faster in his chest. He had never believed in love at first sight, but he was willing to admit he was mistaken this time.

“Well… he is cute.” The blond exhaled.

“Wait, isn’t that the new gigolo of the area? I saw him the other day with Rosie! And Olivia told me she’s seen his ad in The Recycler saying that he swings both ways.” The girl grinned. “You wanna talk to him?”

That question snapped him out of his thoughts: “Huh? No!” He responded, completely flushed.

“Oh, come on, Vince! When was the last time you turned down a chance to get laid?” She nagged him with the elbow.

“Lola!“ Vince grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her behind the kitchen doors.

“What, am I wrong?” She laughed, pushing him back.

Her colleague closed the doors. “I mean, no, but you can’t just say that!”

It’s been a while since Vince had some good sex. He used to get a lot of pussy from being the frontman of the local rock band, and he used to get a lot of dick when he’d pay rounds for all the guys at the gay club, but things weren’t going as well lately. Singing covers was becoming boring, so he tended to not show up at every gig, and just recently he had to cut his expenses for all his vices of the weekend because he found it hard to reach the end of the month.

However, that wasn’t a good enough excuse for her to freak out in front of some random guy who happened to be Vince’s current crush.

“Oops, I got carried away.” She giggled. “But you should go have a chat with him, chico.“

Vince peeked at the guy through the chink of the door, assorted in the menu. He sighed, flustered. “I can’t, dude, I just can’t...”

“Yes, you can!”

“Are you even sure he is bisexual, anyway?” Vince inquired.

“Yes!” Lola exclaimed, convinced.

“Well, what if he’s not? What if you’re confusing him with someone else?”

“It is him!”

“But how can you be so certain?!”

“Everybody I know told me, and my eyes work very well, too! He even has the ad in the paper, I’m telling you. How do you not know it’s him?”

In the meantime, Nikki approached the counter, squinting his eyes and straining his ears to try and understand what they were talking about over the blaring music. Were they talking about him? They ran away as soon as he walked in, so it didn’t seem like such a far-fetched idea. Hah, maybe he got jealous. Nikki snickered to himself. Couldn’t guarantee that he wouldn’t have laid a finger on her, especially if it’d involve good money.

“Uh…” Nikki cleared his voice. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, fuck.” Vince groaned, shaking his head. “I’m not goin’ out there.”

Lola put her hands on her hips and raised both her thick, black eyebrows at him in disappointment.

Vince rolled his eyes and exhaled loudly, throwing his head back. “Don’t look at me like that, Lola! I will die in front of him!” He lamented.

“Ugh, you’re sooo dramatic, Vinnie!”

“I’m not!”

“Yes, you are!” She pointed her finger at him. “And you should cut your crap before we lose that customer,” the girl pushed him against the door, “or else I will lock you in the freezer!”

“Oh, c’mon, again?!”

“Yeah, and it won’t be an accident this time!” Lola shoved Vince with one last effort through the threshold and closed the kitchen behind him. “Come back when you have the ordination, then we can talk!”

The surfer tumbled out of the staff-only area accompanied by the loud thwack of the doors, brushing his shirt with his hands and adjusting his cap, mumbling under his breath: “Ow, fuckin’ bruja… Hi, welcome!” His tone completely shifted and a 32-toothed smile decorated his face in the same sentence as soon as he saw the young ginger waiting in front of the bar.

Nikki smiled back politely. “Is… Everything okay?” He nodded vaguely in the cooking area’s direction.

Vince snorted. “Yeah, no big deal. Women, am I right?” He shrugged theatrically, raising his arms slowly to then lowering them with a sonorous puff of his hands when he made them fall along his hips.

“Yeah, I could tell ya a thing or two about that.” The ginger giggled, thinking about that night’s client. “Never met a normal one in my life!”

“Seriously! You should hear her sometimes… Anyway, what can I get you?”

He is... Pretty. Nikki never thought he’d say that about a man, but this boy’s beauty blew him away. His job required flexibility -money is money, he kept telling himself-, but he was sure the same sex did not attract him. Or at least he never questioned it, not until this guy here came into his life without being invited, with his warm skin tone and soft, kissable lips. He had the uniform’s shirt loosely unbuttoned and was wearing a reversed cap on his wavy, soft, bleach blond hair, which arrived a few inches under his shoulders. He looked rough due to sleep deprivation and the job he had, but if anything, that's what made him more attractive to Nikki, and what caused him to feel a new warm sensation rising from his stomach to his cheeks, then down to his legs, making them feel like jelly.

The waiter took Nikki’s ordination, asking him about extra sauces and drinks in the most cordial tone he ever heard from a fast-food chain employee, looking at him with his hand on his cheek and sparkly hazel eyes. Nikki ended up taking the greasiest, most expensive cheeseburger they had, not even bothering to tell the employee to not put pickles inside it even though he hated them with a passion.

“It’ll take me a sec for your drinks, so you can wait here before taking a seat.”

“Uh-huh, sure.” Nikki nodded. He was blinded by hunger and too distracted by ogling the dude’s ass when he skipped away to worry about it. He just hoped he didn’t make the boy feel too uncomfortable as soon as he turned around and realized he was staring at him.

Vince occupied himself with the drinks machine. His heart was still pounding in his chest, and he was starting to sweat, worried that the cups would slip from his grip and not only make a fool of himself in front of the guy he was crushing on but also make a mess he’d have to clean up, which wasn’t exactly one of his favorite tasks in there. The young man took a deep breath, dried his palms on a towel while listening to Lust for Life on the radio, collected the cups, and handed them to the customer.

“Coke and smoothie for you, sir”, Vince announced with a smile.

The ginger looked up at him and smiled back. “Thank you.” The lights hit his green eyes, which made them sparkle like the Californian sea during the golden hours. He watched the customer cross the room to reach his seat attentively, observing his long legs and fluent walk. His stout build contrasted with the grace and agility in his movements.

While tapping his foot to the beat of the music, Vince glanced over what the ginger scribbled down on his notebook. Phone numbers? That reminded him of Lola mentioning his… advertisement. What exactly did she mean by that? What exactly was this guy’s business? He was not, without a doubt, a door-to-door vacuum cleaner salesman. But I’m sure he could suck me off just as well as one of those things... Vince reflected while staring at the boy mindlessly playing with the straw of the smoothie with his tongue, too preoccupied with doing his own thing to notice how outrageously erotic that looked. Vince shook his head, feeling almost ashamed of himself for having that thought, only to turn around and disappear behind the kitchen doors, with Iggy Pop jamming on the chorus in his ears.

“He wants the super double McSlap-in-the-face or whatever, I can’t remember, you know the one. The most expensive thing we have.” He communicated to his colleague as soon as he walked in.

“Roger that!” Lola immediately flipped patties on the hot slab.

“So,” the waitress opened, “How did it go?”

Vince threw some bacon slices on the grill to help her. “Terrible” he sighed, “Horrible. I’m dead inside.”

Lola sneered.

“What?”

“I see you’re alive and well, chico.”

“Appearances are often deceiving, chica.”

“I’ve watched you from here. You handled that well. And yes, that means I heard you making fun of me, but I’ll go past that, because you men have a weird way of bonding over slagging women, and right then, you needed to bond with that man.”

“How… considerate of you... I guess.” Vince commented while arranging the first half of the ingredients between the burger buns.

“Yep. Count yourself lucky.”

A brief pause, only interrupted by Vince humming the song that was playing in the other room.

“I think I caught him staring at my ass, though.” He noted, after a while.

Lola stopped what she was doing, turned her head slowly to his co-worker. “Chico.”

“Huh?”

“Don’t play dumb! Don’t you understand? He’s already yours!”

“Oh my God, Lola, we just talked about this…” Flirting was never a problem for Vince when the time and place were right, which was usually a wild night out when everyone was drunk and horny. This was some dude at the restaurant he worked at who just wanted to have something to eat before going home.

“I know, and I’m sure he is the one!”

“Yeah, but I am not!”

“Just trust me! Don’t you trust me?”

“I mean… Of course, but…”

“Listen, I saw the way you look at him. I could never forgive myself if I didn’t even try to help you hook up with that guy. You can end your shift early. I don’t care. Just go get his ass now, or die trying. Okay?”

Her employee took a moment to reflect. “I can end early? Are you sure?”

“Mm-hmm. Right when you two walk out that door together, you are free. It looks like I won’t have much business at this hour anyway. I can manage alone. How’s that sound?”

Another pause.

“Fuck… You sold me. Just give me a moment for a cigarette, though. I need to think about it.”

“Sure. Just don’t run away, okay?”

“Hah, I won’t. I’m too scared of you to pull that shit! Thank you, Lola.” He was already on the other side of the door that led to the back of the building.

“You owe me one, chico!” Lola shouted in the hallway, where Vince already disappeared.

The opening of the kitchen doors interrupted Nikki’s frenetic writing in his doodle-filled notebook.

“Here you are, sir!” The waitress walked out of the counter with the tray in hand and greeted Nikki with the brightest smile. She had long black hair collected in a braid, chocolate skin, and voluptuous curves.

“Oh, thank you, miss.” Nikki smiled back, genuinely grateful for finally having something to bite on.

“I heard you argued with… him, before.” He chimed in before the lady walked away from him. Maybe I can make some extra cash tonight.

The tired waitress turned her head. “I beg your pardon?”

“I heard you and the guy fighting before.” Nikki reiterated as he dissected the burger to find the pickles and take them off of it. “Is everything good?”

“Hm, yeah, he’s fussy sometimes, but nothing I can’t handle.”

“Are you two… Together?” Nikki stressed the last word slowly, leaning forward, fixing his eyes on hers.

“Uh…” She stopped, completely spun toward him, confused. “I don’t think that’s for you to know, sir.”

“Oh, hah. Well… That’s fair.” Come on, Nikki, recover. He placed the elbows on the table, leaning even more forward. “Just... know that if you want to release… Some tension, I can be your man… for a reasonable price.” His talk was slow, smooth, alluring.

“So you’re the new gigolo in town? I know I’ve seen your face somewhere. Frankie, right?”

Surprised, Nikki raised his head slowly, wandering with his eyes, reflecting on what to say next. “Uh… Nikki. I guess word travels faster than I anticipated, but if anything it’s good for my business”. He pulled out a small flask from his pocket and poured the liquid into his glass of Coke. “But please, gigolo sounds so cold. Call me a… teacher’s pest.” He glanced again at the waitress, showing off his most charismatic smile and a wink.

She left out a chuckle. "Spare your flirting tactics with me, I'm not interested." Not only in your services, but men in general, she wanted to add.

"Oh, come on, darling." He tilted his head, smiling, leaning back on the leather couch, extending his arm on top of it, and crossing his legs under the table. "I can give you a first-time discount!"

She was already on her way back to the employees-only area. "It'll be $7.89. Enjoy your meal!" Lola replied, without turning, pushing the doors to disappear behind them.

“But wait! …Ah, damn.” Nikki shrugged. Oh well, sometimes you win, sometimes you lose. While consuming his fierce meal, the boy thought about the male waiter, whose memory gave him flutters in his chest that he wasn’t sure wanted to acknowledge, and humored, far back in his mind, even if for a fraction of a moment, the idea of actually trying his luck with him.

Meanwhile, Vince was able to clear his thoughts and decided to just go for it. Better regret something you did rather than something you didn’t, he said to himself while taking a swig - one-third of a bottle - of the alcohol he had in his bag. Such things necessitate bravery, but not the kind that gets you into fights - that’s easy. This was bravery in the face of rejection, and Vince couldn’t have done it sober.

Van Halen’s new single was blaring through the speakers of the dining hall.

“Hey, dude.” Vince tried to get the boy's attention as he walked outside the counter.

Nikki raised his head and nodded. “I only have twenty, but you guys can keep the change...”

“Don’t sweat it. It’s on the house.” Vince interrupted him. I hope it's okay with Lola.

“What...”

Vince shook his head and puffed away his tension. This was his opportunity. "Listen, man." He sat down in front of Nikki, looking him in the eyes, "I have to ask you a weird question just so I can prove my co-worker wrong. A bet, if you will. She says… She says you're the guy from West Hollywood who's getting paid for sex with the ad in The Recycler. Dudes, chicks, everything in between… As long as it's a good price. Is it true?" Vince had nothing to lose and everything to gain: he just had to give it a shot.

Nikki blinked, hesitant. "Maybe." A temporary pause. "Is… anyone interested?"

Vince slapped a fifty-dollar bill on the table. "Maybe."

Nikki’s brow furrowed. Okay, he didn’t expect that. He knew a guy would’ve eventually come at him - that’s what he advertised - he just thought that day would've taken way longer to come.

“What… Do you mean?” Nikki understood very well what that meant, he just wasn’t able to process it, still.

"Let's cut to the chase, okay? You have something I want, and I can pay you for that. We don't have to meet again if you don't want to, just… Can I have you for tonight?" His voice was deep, vibrating with desire.

Nikki’s breath was suspended in his throat. This would've been his first time with a guy. There’s always a first time for everything, after all… But it didn’t have to be. He could’ve just run away with the fucker’s money, too.

Vince added another fifty bucks. The pressure was rising, both in his blood and inside his pants now. "Please."

Nikki looked at the money, at the young man who was soliciting him, then at the money again. He would've already accepted - free dinner and extra cash? Hell yeah!-, but he just wanted to see how far he could push his luck. "Add another fifty and I'm yours." He replied defiantly, leaning on his back, crossing his arms.

Vince narrowed his eyes, baring his teeth. "You snake..." He was all about getting into the gigolo's business no matter what, but his wallet begged to differ.

"Them's the rules."

A pause.

"A hundred or nothing."

"Fifty."

"Ten."

"Forty-five."

"Fifteen."

"Thirty."

"Oh, just take my money already!" Vince rolled his eyes, adding the thirty dollars to the total amount.

"You've got yourself a deal", Nikki smirked as he reached for the money with his hand.

Vince blocked him and took the cash off the table. "Uh-uh", he said, waving his index finger in front of the ginger's face. "Don’t play with fire. You think you get to run away with my money?" The blond got up and grabbed the other by the wrist. “Follow me”.

The service door closed behind Vince's back while he was pushing Nikki out into the filthy alley, among the trash bags and rats. He grabbed Nikki by the waist, then got on his toes to meet his lips with his own. Nikki was surprised but didn't fight it, slowly opening his mouth to let Vince's tongue taste his, in a breathtaking, impetuous kiss filled with pure lust. It's fine, the gigolo kept repeating to himself in his head, just pretend it's a girl. Vince groaned in Nikki's mouth, glad to finally satisfy his craving, to be himself.

Nikki had to step back to catch his breath, and looked at Vince in the eyes, glistening under the cold white neon light. He was met with a worried, almost scared expression that didn’t require any clarification. Nikki moved his gaze down on Vince's lips, smirking, and started biting and sucking on them, pulling him closer by grabbing his hips. Pretend he's a girl. His one-night lover relaxed in Nikki's kiss, smiling back, grinding against him, and slowly pushing him towards the dumpster. He frantically untucked Nikki's shirt to run his fingers on his bare skin, to which Nikki shivered at each stroke, without letting go of his lips for one second, in a crescendo of intensity and synchronized heartbeats.

Vince finally detached himself from Nikki’s mouth, to kiss, lick, bite, and suck on his neck, leaving teeth marks on the soft olive skin, drowning in his alluring danger-flavored scent. Nikki jumped in surprise. His eyes rolled back, a moan left his mouth, feeling more aroused than he’d ever been in his life. He surrendered himself completely to Vince, who in the meantime unzipped Nikki’s jeans and slipped his frantic hands inside them. He’s a girl, he’s a girl, he’s a girl…

“Get on your knees, pretty boy”, Nikki whispered in-between heavy breaths. He couldn’t take it any longer. He couldn’t pretend anymore. All he ever wanted at that moment was to be sucked off by the man who was in front of him and no one else. He would have had an existential crisis, questioning his sexuality and wondering where it all went wrong, where and when the line between business and pleasure became so blurry if he hadn’t been so damn horny about crossing that threshold that he couldn’t think at all. Nikki didn’t care; he’d just have to deal with it later.

Vince immediately obliged, suddenly feeling weak in his legs, as if he was under a spell cast by Nikki’s bewitchingly deep, husky voice. He pulled down Nikki’s pants and took his time to feast his eyes on what was revealed. He only said, “Holy shit...” in a soft voice.

Vince raised his head towards Nikki, who was surprisingly shy for a guy whose profession is being a playboy, with his red cheeks and stiff posture and nervous lip biting.

“Something wrong, bad boy?” Vince provoked playfully, head tilted to the side. He loved when he could make boys like Nikki break down their facade of cockiness.

Nikki couldn’t think straight. “I uh… sorry, I just…” Maybe we shouldn’t do this, he wanted to tell him, but his brain wasn’t capable of forming any words. What was he afraid of, judgment? Of whom, others? As if it was ever a problem for him his whole life. Judgment of the other fellow man, for his… performance? The guy in front of him on his knees, eager to get a dick in his mouth, didn’t seem to mind.

Nikki was visibly flustered now, his hands on his face, he didn’t know what to respond. He took another deep breath and decided to tell the truth. Not all of it, but his client needed to understand what they were getting themselves into. “I dunno man, I… this is my first time with a guy, y’know.” he blurted out eventually.

“Oh yeah? What an honor!” Vince’s eyes widened. His tone was too enthusiastic, to the limits of being fake. Condescending, even.

Nikki had to restrain himself to punch the twink in the face.

This was a mistake.

“Ha, figured you’d be happy to know that.” He replied, dry, raising an eyebrow. Nikki wasn’t sure how to feel in that situation: blondie here was testing his patience, but his sass intrigued him in such a manner that now he felt compelled to fuck him senseless to teach him a lesson. Well, I changed my tune fast, Nikki thought to himself.

The client got up, laid a hand on Nikki’s pounding chest. “There’s a first time for everything.” He sounded oddly understanding, which was reassuring. “Just… try to relax, okay?”

Nikki rested his wrists on the pelmet’s lid behind him after arching his back. He nodded. “Okay.”

As he kneeled again, his part-time lover’s fingers traced through his stomach, making Nikki’s skin crawl most enticingly.

There was something special about this guy…

The blond spat on his hand and started jerking Nikki off. He was already almost rock hard. He went with gentle, long strokes from base to tip, brushing his lips and tongue against it, teasing him, looking up to see his blissful expression with the eyes closed, the lips slightly apart and the head thrown back. Vince stripped him down even further and caressing his thighs and groin, trying to calm him down more, which kind of worked. Vince continued with slow and wide licks, up and down, up and down, covering Nikki’s cock in his saliva, feeling the warmth increasing. Nikki was a panting and groaning mess, clearly trying to hold himself back. Vince was running out of patience too, feeling his trousers getting so tight he had to untie them, so he just put Nikki’s dick in his mouth. Carefully but steadily, the blond sucked from the tip and slid forward on the shaft, in an up and down motion. He could feel the grip on his hair getting stricter and hear the groans getting louder, turning him on even more, if that was possible.

“Does it feel good?” Vince wanted to know.

Nikki’s mind was still having some difficulties registering what was happening, although he couldn’t deny he was enjoying it. He nodded. “Keep going.”

The blond responded by accelerating the rhythm, touching himself in the meantime. He took short pauses to catch his breath from time to time, to then go back to Nikki, who was twitching inside his throat, unable to say anything other than “Oh fuck… Goddammit… Fucking hell, you’re good…” in between pants and gasps. Vince went down on him even harder, stroking and licking until Nikki muttered, “Fuck, I think I’m...” and came into his mouth a second later with another loud groan, nearly choking Vince. He withdrew from Nikki in a coughing fit, with cum drooling all over his chin.

“Hijo de puta! You could’ve at least told me, y’know!” The smirk that developed on Vince’s face betrayed the rage that filled his gruff voice.

“My bad.” Nikki apologized in between quick breaths, his legs trembling, “I didn’t expect it to come that fast, either...”. It wasn’t really out of empathy, but embarrassment for not being able to last longer. Plus, it was always better to keep the client on his good side. He still had to get paid, after all. Nikki rarely genuinely cared for any impact his actions - voluntary or not - had in other people’s lives; this time, he was sure, was not one of the unusual occasions.

Vince got up on his feet, cleaned his face with his arm, and licked his cum-filled fingers. “It’s okay.” He approached near and looked up at the ginger. “Kinda adds to the thrill.” His lips touched Nikki’s once again in a sloppy kiss, while his hands reached into his back pocket to slide the dollar bills into Nikki’s hand, who swiftly slid them inside his jeans.

Nikki lifted Vince’s chin in between his thumb and index finger, pushing his weight against him to get even closer, groaning, tasting himself on Vince’s tongue. Girls would sometimes make out with him right after they sucked him off (just like he kissed the girls right after he went down on them), so he was used to it. He found it kind of hot, even: nothing like letting your partner know their flavor.

Vince’s breaths harmonized with Nikki’s in sharp inhales that extruded desire and an almost animalistic instinct of hunger for each other. He tried to wrap his leg around Nikki’s, trying to reach the dumpster’s edge behind them for more balance, to which the other responded by wrapping his arm around his lower back to lift him. That’s when Vince let out a moan of ecstasy in Nikki’s mouth, feeling once again the blood rushing down his crotch.

Nikki loosened the grip on his lover’s jaw to fumble around his chest, finding a way down to the last button of the grease-covered shirt to undo it and slowly crawl his fingers on the naked skin, refusing to break the kiss. It was small comfort in that scenario, which was yet fresh and unfamiliar to him.

Vince grabbed Nikki’s hand and guided it to go lower, inviting him to feel the heat that was rising under his clothes.

“Oh, sorry.” the blond whispered, “Do I need to pay extra for that?”

Nikki moved away at the same time to look him in the eyes, his lips parted, the eyelids half-closed, his cheeks flushed. “Don’t worry.” He breathed, touching the other’s lips with his, “This one’s on the house.”

Nikki figured it wasn’t the first time he jerked someone off (even though that someone had always been himself by far), so it shouldn’t have been that difficult, right?

Slowly, he stroked, feeling the warmth of the shaft from tip to base, observing the blond’s reaction to his touch, who gave out a soft whimper burying his face in his lover’s collarbone, pressing his lips against his neck, grinding against his body.

The ginger pressed his lips against blondie’s ear, inebriated by the smell of sea salt and cigarettes of his hair. “You like that?”

His delightfully raspy and lascivious voice, so muffled and close, traveled through Vince’s body, generating a shiver going down from his shoulders and neck, through his spine. That pulse of involuntary energy made Vince inhale sharply and squeeze Nikki’s hand.

“Yes. Yes, continue.” Vince murmured, his cheek resting on his neck.

Nikki adjusted his wrist for a better grip, raising the speed slowly. He went on with the motion, feeling his client twitching every time he passed his thumb over the moist tip. Pants and grunts spilled from both mouths as the intensity of the moment increased, praising and reaching for each other’s lips to bite on.

Vince felt like he was about to cum in his hand, sensing the familiar tingling running down from his head to his legs and getting ready for that sweet release. When all of a sudden, his eyes opened wide, a lucid thought crossed his mind: If I ruin another uniform, she’s gonna kick my ass!

The blond detached himself from the ginger, grabbed him by the hair, and pushed him down, shoving his throbbing cock down the boy’s throat, cumming in his mouth.

Nikki tasted dick before he could even register it in his brain. He spat out the load, coughing and rubbing his tongue, sure that he gulped some of it too. He dropped to his knees for the shock, glancing up at the guy who outplayed him with a flabbergasted, betrayed look. What the fuck was that about?! Nikki wanted to ask, but he could only mimic the first three words.

“What? Don’t give me that look. You did the same to me!” Vince giggled like a child who pulled a prank on his classmate.

“Not… even… a warning?”

“Yeah, I kinda forgot about that. Sorry.” Vince shrugged, delivering his best shit-eating grin while offering his hand to the ginger.

Nikki grudgingly accepted the help, shooting a scornful glare at the blond. “I know you’re not fucking sorry, you dirty fucking faggot--” he breathed through his teeth as he rose to his feet and drew their bodies closer together. The disparaging tone he used contradicted the smile he bore with the words.

Vince’s knuckles hit the gigolo’s jaw before he could finish talking. “Bit ironic of you to say, when your mouth is still dirty of my cum, don’t you think?” he retorted with a sneer, staring at the face of anger, tilting his head provocatively.

Nikki scoffed, stroking his chin. The punch wasn't that strong, but the little bastard got to the spot where even a baby could make it hurt. “Touché. Guess I won’t beat your ass tonight.”

“You can kiss it if you want to.” Vince dragged a cigarette out of the packet with his lips, without batting an eye. “Do you have a light?”

Nikki and Vince stood beside each other under the flicker of the service door light, surrounded by the smell of gone-off frying oil, the smoke from their cigarettes. The only sound to be heard were cars speeding by in the distance.

“Hey, so, uh… Was… Was it good for you?” Nikki broke the silence.

At that question, Vince arched his eyebrows and exhaled, making the cigarette smoke exit through his nostrils faster, creating two gray lines of vapor in front of them that dissipated in the air, like fog out of season. So this was his first time, huh? That explained his hesitancy to accept his solicitation. But why choose to offer your services to everyone and not just women? Did he really need the money, or was his “work” merely a front to meet more dudes to sleep with? Maybe both? Vince didn’t know, but as much as he wanted to have those doubts cleared, he set them aside and responded to the question earnestly.

“It was fuckin’ great.” He sighed, looking his lover of the hour in the eyes. “You were great.” A hint of a smile in his expression as he added the second part, his voice growing faint at the end of the phrase, leaving the words suspended.

“Oh,” Nikki felt his face turning red as those words exited the blond’s mouth, making him turn his gaze to the ground. “I, uh…” He flickered the cigarette to make the accumulated ash fall on the ground. A tight-lipped smile formed across his face, curved askew on his left cheek, creating two creases on his skin at the angle of his lips. “Thanks.” He uttered in the end, raising his head and bringing the cigarette to his mouth. “It was good for me, too.” Another sentence left floating in the smoky air.

They got quiet for a moment, kicking pebbles or junk lying around. Sometimes one would glance at the other, attempting to meet his gaze, just to deflect it and pretend it wasn't intentional.

“Sorry about earlier,” Nikki murmured hastily, breathing smoke.

“What?”

Nikki swallowed, then cleared his voice. “I said… I’m sorry.” Another puff of the cigarette. “About the faggot thing. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“I know, it just felt good to hear it twice.” Vince accompanied that response with a 32-toothed smug smile.

Nikki rolled his eyes, wondering why he still hadn’t beaten the tan out of the twerp yet. He already let him ruin the major selling point of his merchandise, now he could take the piss off him too?

The blond returned serious and raised his shoulders. “It’s whatever, man. I’m used to it.” He had to learn to fend for himself in places where people like him should’ve been safe. A pretty, self-absorbed and sexually confused asshole wasn’t the worst person Vince had to give the right hook to. He inhaled some more nicotine.

The ginger imitated him, touching the bruise that was already swollen. “It fucking hurts, by the way.”

“Good. That means we’re even.”

“No hard feelings?” Nikki turned towards him in search of forgiveness.

Only inside my pants… “No hard feelings.” Vince nodded, meeting his gaze back.

They went silent again.

Vince caught the gigolo looking up, where the clouds were lazily passing by the crescent moon, peering behind the city skyline.

“Wow…” the ginger murmured under a puff of smoke.

“Hm? What is it?”

Nikki looked at him and nodded at the sky. “The moon looks so cool tonight.”

Vince raised an eyebrow. Where did this sentimentalism come out of, after having paid for sex among the garbage bins outside his workplace, of all scenarios? He looked in the same direction as the lad he was still sharing a smoke with. Vince never really stopped to look for the poetry behind his surroundings, he usually left that sappy shit to girls, but he had to admit the sky had its charm that night. The clouds now had moved away completely and left the moon dominating the pitch-black atmosphere.

“You can see it even better at sea.” Vince puffed his cigarette one last time before throwing it away. “Have you ever been there?”

Nikki shook his head and chucked away his cigarette in turn. “Not yet. Since I moved to LA, anyway.”

“Oh, you don’t know what you’re missing. Hot chicks everywhere, all year-’round.” The surfer chuckled, which made the ginger smile along.

A conversation about nothing under the stars later, Nikki let out a yawn. “Well, I better fuck off now.” He chuckled in a hoarse voice. “It's getting late."

“Yeah, I should get back in, too”, Vince replied. A wave of melancholy washed over him, as it often did when he had to part ways with a one-night stand, especially as good as this. But he had long accepted to treasure those moments, not remember the people he made those memories with, or hope he could ever see them again. He turned on his heels before that feeling had the chance to sink in any deeper.

“Wait! I… I almost forgot.” Nikki grabbed the blond by the arm. "I don't even know your name." He never had the desire to learn the names of his flings or clients, yet that information felt like the most indispensable thing in the world.

Vince turned around. The ginger's eyes were glistening. "Vince. What's yours?"

“I’m Nikki.” He pulled out his notebook from the back pocket, scribbled something on a blank page, and handed it to Vince. “Call me?” You’ll never know that this guy could become a patron. Nikki hoped that was the case, but for reasons beyond business, despite what he kept telling himself.

Vince examined the phone number scribbled on the piece of paper. His lips shaped into a smile. “You can count on it.”

The gigolo grabbed Vince by his collar and pushed their lips together, kissing him until both of them ran out of breath. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Vince.”

The blond blushed like a schoolboy as he heard his name pronounced by him. “Yeah, it was nice for me too… Nikki.” His voice rose three octaves as he uttered the phrase, which Nikki must have noticed, judging by the grin on his face, making matters even worse.

“Anytime you want... you know you can have me”, Nikki whispered in Vince’s ear. He took a few steps back while maintaining eye contact before turning away and disappearing into the shadows.

Nikki collapsed on his bed, his mind running through the events of that night, which felt like a fever dream. Was it worth it? A voice in his head kept asking him. After meeting Vince, Nikki thought that it was.

#sinner writings #motley crue #mötley crüe #motley crue fanfiction #nikki sixx #nikki sixx fanfiction #vince neil #vince neil fanfiction #vinikki #vinikki fanfiction #BEHOLD the longest fic I worked on so far. took me fucking 5 months but better late than ever #it's set in summer but I'm posting it on october skshdjdk I'm a disaster. LA is warm all year long tho so does it really matter? 🤷‍♀️#this fic means so much to me. it's kinda hard to post it bc 1) it kept me company for like half a year 2) if nobody reads it I'll like. die #I even thought to keep it for myself but I dunno man I just love sharing my mental breakdowns #plus I've been anticipating it for so long by posting about the progress tracking etc. so why wouldn't I publish it here too #this is gonna go in two ways: 1) only three beloved mutuals will read it and share their thoughts about it (hopefully good)#2) it'll reach ppl that will yell at me bc this is morally wrong for w/e the fuck reason #if it goes both ways I'll have peaked in life but I'm prepared for this to flop #but arnold loved it so joke's on you I have already succeeded #I've put so much thought in every word I've written. there's a reason behind every single detail #even if sometimes the reason behind it is 'plot purposes' but that's still a reason okay skshdj I *chose* to not care abt it #also one last thing nikki is ginger and I stand by that. hope this isn't too controversial lmao (as if the rest of this zozzeria isn't)#and yeah of course I chose *that* pic of young Nikki for the cover art bc he's a fuckin bitch boy brat <3 fits the narrative y'know #Spotify

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