#Parasol-shaded Pool

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[rinhaler]

I’m begging you to write a bimbo x Toji fanfic

IM ON MY KNEES PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE IM BEGGING YOU🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️

Been in a BJ mood so enjoy some 69ing xoxo

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, bimbo!reader, pet names (princess, sweetheart, baby), daddy kink, spanking, 69ing, messy blowjob + pussy eating (duh), head pushing, praise, dumbification, degradation, age gap, exhibitionism ig?

words: 2.1k

“He’s not here, sweetheart.”

The bass of his voice rattles throughout your nervous system. And before you know it, you’re squeezing your thighs together and biting your lip as you look up at him, the way he almost entirely fills the space between the door frame. A slow smirk beginning to play on his lips as he watches you.

You’ve had a crush on your best friends dad since the first time he brought you over to hang out. He didn’t seem particularly interested in you, at first. Not until your skirts got shorter and your tops became skimpier.

“We had plans…” you pout a little, glossy lips shimmering in the afternoon sun. He clears his throat, adjusting his stance a little as he continues to look down at you.

“Oh yeah?” he asks, a little more curtly than intended. “And what plans were those?”

“Mm,” you hum, flicking through your texts to pull up your thread with Megumi. “Wanna hang out on Thursday? I can get us some booze and we can relax around the pool. My dad will be at wor— wait, you’re not at work?”

“Because it’s Monday, baby. Not Thursday.” he laughs a little as he shows you the date on his own phone. “Got a little confused there, huh? He’s at the library with the pink haired one, he ain’t here.”

“Oh…” you pout again. “’m sorry. I guess I should be studying too, I’ll go meet him there. See ya later Mister Fushiguroooo~!” you smile before beginning to skip away.

“Hey,” he calls after you. A grin quickly spreads across your face before you turn to face him again. He kisses his teeth, looking you up and down slower and more purposefully than ever before. He curls his finger, prompting you to come closer. “You’re all dressed for the beach, not the library. You can come in ‘n wait for him here, baby. You even brought your li’l swimsuit in your bag, huh? Come on.” he tilts his head as he walks inside.

You follow him hurriedly, closing the door after yourself when you enter. He doesn’t wait around for you, jogging up the stairs and shutting the door loudly after himself. You huff, wondering what the point of coming inside was if you’re just gonna be waiting by yourself anyway.

It doesn’t deter you, though. You dip into the downstairs bathroom and change into your swimsuit, sauntering outside to set up a lounger so you can at least catch a few rays before Megumi gets back.

You lay back, immediately feeling your skin heat up as the sun burns down onto your still body. There’s a lack of breeze, and the warmth soon becomes suffocating.

But soon enough, the sun disappears. Your eyebrows scrunch at the sudden change, your body plunged into shade and your temperature drops. You open your eyes, your best friends obscenely large father blocking out the ball of fire as he stands above you.

“Here, keep hydrated.” he orders, putting down a fruity looking cocktail filled to the brim with ice by your side. His white, open shirt begins to billow from a brief gust of wind, and he takes his seat with his own drink on the lounger beside yours.

He wasn’t avoiding you after all, he was getting changed.

You lean over, taking a small sip of the cocktail by your side. “Oh shit, that’s so yummy. Did you make it?”

He smirks again, but keeps his eyes closed as he lays back under the shade of his parasol. “Nah, the butler did it.”

“Really?” you ask, excitedly.

He can’t help but laugh at your naivety, turning his head to look at you. “No, sweetheart. Have you ever seen a butler around here? Course I made it.” he tells you, drinking in your bewildered expression as how gullible you are begins to dawn on you. “You ain’t too bright, are ya?”

“That’s—” you speak instantly, but put your drink back down to soak up the sun once more. “Mean.”

“Awe, sorry darlin’,” he smiles at you, but you don’t see it. “At least you’re pretty.”

He angles his head to face the sun, while yours snaps to look at him. You can’t hide your wide, cheesy smile as the words race through your mind.

At least you’re pretty.

At least you’re pretty.

At least you’re—

“You think I’m pretty?” you blurt out, though you feel no shame as the words leave your mouth. It’s the best thing you’ve ever heard another human being say to you in your life. Megumi’s hot dad thinks you’re pretty.

“You’re not that dumb, are you?” he faces you, finally, running his tongue along his top row of teeth. “You’re a gorgeous little thing, that’s for sure. Gonna give an old man like me the wrong idea, walkin’ around in a skimpy swimsuit like that.”

“The wrong idea?” you tilt your head at him. “I dunno what you mean, Mister Fushiguro.”

“Mmm, I betch’a don’t. I love li’l airheads like you.” he sneers. “Or maybe you know exactly what I mean, ‘n you’re just pretending to be dumb.”

You pout again as you think about what he’s saying. He watches you as you try and understand his words, the notion of pretending to be anything utterly perplexing you. He doesn’t take his eyes off you, though he’s a little surprised to see you roll onto your side so you can look at him properly.

“… Are you flirting with me?” you wonder.

“Hah,” he snickers. “You’re really tryna get me in trouble, huh? Would ya like that?”

“… uh-huh…” you nod slowly, biting your lip again. You watch as he smirks at you, adrenaline running through your veins as you wonder where this is heading. Is he simply teasing you?

“Have you got a li’l crush on me, sweetheart? That’s real bad. Remember who I am? Your best friends old man.”

“You’re not an old man,” you try to assure him. But he can only laugh at your idiocy once more. “Had a crush on you forever…” you admit, getting up from your lounger and walking over to his. You decide to take the risk, moving each of your legs on either side of him before slowly lowering yourself.

He bites his own lip, aged scar pulling deliciously as he smooths his hands over the curves of your waist. A grunt rumbles through his throat as you barely move, lightly humping against his stiffening cock.

And in an instant, your bikini is soaked.

You rut your hips more, and more, until he holds you still.

“Wanna fuck.” you whimper, and he starts to tut.

“Mmm, me too. Maybe next time.” he thinks, cock flexing as he imagines the feeling of your tight walls wrapping around him so perfectly. “Wan’ you to put that empty head of yours to good use.” he tells you.

A dazed expression decorates your face as you try and decode what he means. But instead of leaving you confused, he carefully pushes you away from his growing bulge so he can pull out his leaking length.

“Go on, princess. Suck me off.” he tells you.

You’re too astonished by the sight of his cock to even move. A beautiful thickness with a gorgeous curve you can only use as a fantasy for future reference as you imagine it hitting and stretching every spot inside.

He’s amazed that you don’t need to be told twice, however, you soon position yourself to take his length into your salivating mouth. You look up at him with wide, wet eyes as you kiss and suck his tip. Only looking away to spit into your hand, using it to jerk him off whilst you continue to suck like your life depends on it.

He can’t take his eyes off you, even taken aback as you further pull down his beach shorts to free his balls. He’s besotted at the sight of you, completely and wholly lovestruck as you produce enough saliva to completely soak his length, spittle dripping and sliding as it drenches his cock and balls. He winces as you cup them, licking up and down his cock before you suck one into your mouth.

All the while, your eyes are on him. Never before has he felt embarrassed whilst receiving head. But right now, he feels entirely at your mercy. He holds your gaze, though, intent on overriding the feelings of embarrassment as you turn him into a grunting and groaning puddle.

“Fuuuuuck, sweetheart,” he grins, chest heaving as you don’t let up on him. Your fist becomes a blur, and even still, he can’t stop himself from thrusting into your grip. “Pretty little girl… look s’cute with your mouth full’a my cock.”

You moan, at that. The praise overwhelming you enough to release one of his balls from your mouth before you go back to sucking him off. You take him deeper and deeper, as deep as you can take him without showing any signs of gagging.

“Such a good cocksucker for me, baby,” he tells you as he starts to push your head down on him. “Knew that an airhead like you would be a fucking pro.”

“G-Got such a big dick, daddy.” you tell him as you push off of him, desperate to tell him. He drags you up closer to him, kissing you sloppily as your body presses into his. You lie comfortably in his embrace in the shaded spot, moaning into his mouth as you grind down on his cock. “P-Please fuck me.”

“Oh, princess… does your little cunt need daddy’s attention?” he wonders, kissing you again. “Told ya, I want my cock sucked.” he slaps your ass. “Move, go on.” he orders, though despite his instruction, he begins to manhandle you.

You’re soon positioned so you’re practically sitting on his face while his throbbing cock is back in yours. He moves the material of your bikini into the crease of your thigh and gives your pussy a light spank.

“Don’t stare at it, sweetheart. Suck my cock, now.”

You immediately do as you’re told, taking him down your throat while he teases you enough to have you trembling. Touching anywhere and everywhere except where you need him most. Until finally, he places a delicate kiss between your sodden folds.

“Baby, she’s drooling. You really do have a crush on me.” he chuckles. He wastes no more time, after that, burying his face between your thighs and slurping up your lewdness. He moans into your folds before he shoves two fingers into your clenching hole.

His cock falls from between your lips, then, and you moan loud enough for the entire neighbourhood to hear you. He slaps your ass again, and it’s hard. “Shut up.” he warns. “I won’t let you cum if you do that again.”

The warning is enough to make you focus yourself on his pleasure. His mouth is making your toes curl and your head become emptier than even he thought possible. Tears begin to flow from your eyes as you do all you can to prioritise him and keep your moans to yourself.

Your throat tightens and constricts the more you withhold. You can’t control it fully, still humming around him. It’s somewhat calculated, yes. But the thought of being caught or ratted out to Megumi is making him a little more cautious. Then again, if he really didn’t wanna be caught, he wouldn’t be fucking his sons best friend in the backyard.

He pulls away, still curling his fingers into your g-spot as his face shimmers from your sticky folds. “Can’t believe you called me daddy you little slut,” he spanks you. “That’s right, isn’t it baby? You’re daddy’s dumb little slut.”

“Mhmm!” you mewl. “Mmm, mmm, mmm~!” you whine as you begin to unfurl. Your cunt squeezes hard enough to almost break his fingers, though it doesn’t deter him from devouring you whole. He begins to thrust up into your mouth, and he shoots ribbon after ribbon of hot white cum between your drool soaked lips.

Neither of you move, both exhausted from the overwhelming release.

“Wh— Did that just… happen?” you ask, breathlessly.

“Sure did,” he laughs, slapping your ass as he does. “You need to give me your number, baby. I gotta be able to text you when Megumi ain’t home.”

“Hm…” you consider it. “Why would I come over again when Megumi isn’t here?”

“God, princess, you really can’t think why? Daddy wants to be able to split your pussy open on his cock whenever he wants. Don’t want Megumi home for that, do ya baby?”

“N-No…” you sigh dreamily, closing your eyes as you finally move to lie comfortably beside him. “You better fuck me next time!”

“Next time?” he grins. “Megs won’t be home for a few hours. I’ll fuck you in a few minutes, sweetheart.”

© 2024 rinhaler

[luffington]

private party ♡

➤ summary: It's too goddamn hot out, so Doflamingo surrenders his strength to join you in the pool. (18+)

➤ pairing: donquixote doflamingo x afab!reader

➤ word count: 2.5k

➤ warnings: dom!doffy, pool sex, belly bulge, exhibitionism, getting caught, degradation, established relationship (kinda), fem reader

➤ notes: i am so normal about the doffy pool scene where baby 5 is introduced. i barely ever think about it i swear.... also this is my softest doffy fic and he's still SO unhinged >:3

NSFW under the break! minors dni thank uuu

Dressrosa’s famously perfect weather had been overtaken by a mid-summer heat wave, and today was brutal. The sweltering sun turned the air hazy with heat. Not a single cloud stained the bright blue sky to provide shade from its burning rays. Staying outside for more than ten minutes was a daunting task. Nearly every member of the Donquixote Family was staying cool inside the spacious castle with its doors closed and curtains drawn.

Fortunately, the palace courtyard was an oasis.

An oversized pink flamingo float bounced against the side of the oval-shaped pool as you swam laps straight down the middle, keeping most of your body underwater. The scent of sunscreen and chlorine filled the air. Your lover (for lack of a better word) reclined on a padded couch, sipping a yellowish-pink tropical cocktail decorated with a paper parasol. His signature pink coat had obviously been discarded, but so had every item of clothing besides a tiny pair of shorts. Tan lines had no place on his godly figure.

The king of Dressrosa unashamedly admired you as he sunbathed. Even behind his sunglasses, you felt his lusty gaze trained on the way your body moved – and your skimpy little crimson bikini. You intentionally put on a show for him, arching your back as you dove underwater and making sure your tiny bottoms were pulled a bit too tight against your ass. 

Both of you were completely alone. Doflamingo had even sent away the servants who periodically refilled his drink and brought out poolside snacks. You weren’t entirely sure why he chose to keep the pool after he became king – the only ones who really used it were you and the women who hung around Señor Pink. The Family’s Devil Fruit users safely stayed dry on the surrounding lounge chairs, and Dellinger hated chlorine. Doflamingo did love his pool parties, though.

Getting lonely and bored, you swam to the edge of the pool, emerging near Doflamingo’s feet and wiping water out of your eyes. The blonde placed your own drink on the ground in front of you. 

“You jealous?” You grinned cheekily, sipping the chilled liquid through a neon pink straw. “It must suck to not be able to swim, especially on a day like today. The water is soooo refreshing.”

Doflamingo chuckled at your boldness. “I’ll live.”

“I’ve never even seen you go in.” He was certainly good at keeping you company while you swam, though, and his flamingo float was ideal for cuddling (and less appropriate activities). “You won’t drown in a few feet of water.”

“Water takes away my powers, baby.”

“Boooo.” You splashed a small wave onto his hairy legs. “You can be without your strings for five minutes. Get in here.”

If anyone else did that to him, he would’ve forced them on their knees and made them beg for mercy. Luckily, he found your bratty playfulness more amusing than irritating. Certainly better than an overly passive, demure lover. And the pool did look nice, beautifully shimmering under the relentless sun. It was even more tempting now that cool droplets of water ran down his calves.  

To your surprise, your lover sighed exaggeratedly but actually stood from the couch, stripping down to his underwear and revealing his half-hard clothed bulge. As you excitedly went to grab a blow-up beach ball on the other side of the pool, you could’ve sworn you felt something tugging at the strap tying the bikini around your neck.

Doflamingo kept a cautious hand on the railing as he strolled down the pool steps, hissing in relief at the cold water. Strength be damned, this felt incredible. He kneeled down and reclined backwards to submerge his enormous body, though he kept his head above water, and soaked off the undignified layer of sticky sweat coating his skin. Thank fuck his throne birthright wasn’t on some desolate winter island. 

You trotted back over to him while tossing the ball in your hands. “Doffy, I think my top is coming undone. Can you fix it?” 

Innocently turning your back to him and holding your hair away from your neck. He grabbed the thin red strings pitifully slipping out of their knot, but instead of tying them, the blonde let them fall past your shoulders. Before you could react, his big hands forced their way under your bikini cups to openly grope your tits. 

“Isn’t this what you wanted, pet?” He giggled maniacally as he tugged at your nipples. Being on his knees evened out your height difference a bit, so he curled his giant body over yours, his hard abs pressed flush against your back. Kneading your breasts with no gentleness, squeezing them like stress balls. “Getting all wet for me? Teasing me with this pathetic excuse for a bathing suit?”

You bit your lip – he wasn’t wrong, but you did want to play volleyball with him first. The ball fell from your hands and sadly floated away. 

Doflamingo pulled off your top and carelessly tossed it aside. “This tiny thing leaves nothing to the imagination, it’s fucking disgusting. I want you to wear it every day.” He pressed a quick kiss to your shoulder then bit down as he harshly twisted your peaked nipples. “But just for me.”

“P-Please, Doffy…” You wiggled your hips, squirming against him.

“Needy slut.” Laughing giddily, he licked across your teeth then plunged the wet muscle into your mouth. Pineapple juice and expensive white rum lingered on his tongue. One hand cradled your jaw to keep your lips locked as the other trailed down your tummy underwater, slipping under the waistband of your bottoms. 

Doflamingo teasingly caressed your mound then harshly pinched your clit, then tugged at the sensitive nub. “That’s for splashing me earlier.”

“Shit, I’ll splash you again,” you chuckled, letting your head fall back against his shoulder.

“You’re such a damn masochist, making me get creative with my punishments.” You nearly folded in half when his long fingers ran through your slit, but his arm wrapped around your waist to keep you upright. His free hand went back to caressing your tits. The blonde giggled in delight when he felt the slick between your legs – you were so responsive, so easy. “This doesn’t feel like pool water. You’re all worked up from a little kiss?”

“You’re all worked up from watching me swim, pervert.” Grinding your ass against his massive bulge to emphasize your point.

The blonde slapped your tit and you jerked against his tight hold. “It’s a good thing your bratty mouth looks so pretty wrapped around my cock, since you’re starting to piss me off.”

Maybe your alcohol-induced cheekiness had reached its limit. Doflamingo’s infatuation with you made him no less terrifying. 

He wasn’t in the mood for long and drawn-out foreplay, though he normally adored seeing you break and beg for his cock with tears in your eyes. But your tiny cunt couldn’t even take his tip without loosening it up first. Being blessed with a perfect body, godlike height, and a monster cock was such a curse.

Resting his chin in the crook of your neck, the blonde observed the way his nimble fingers expertly moved inside you. His string abilities were gone but he still worked his puppeteering magic inside you, scissoring your wet walls apart and prodding at your sensitive spot. The adorably wanton whines falling from your lips made his dick twitch. 

Once he decided you were ready, he easily flipped you around to face him and sat down on the pool steps with you in his lap. Doflamingo freed his heavy cock, letting it spring up and bounce against his abdomen underwater. Instead of taking off your bikini bottoms, he simply pushed them to the side to expose your cunt.

“I’ve never fucked in a pool before,” the blonde chuckled, grabbing underneath your thighs and easily manhandling you into position. Even with his strength drained away, he was still much stronger than the average person – those sculpted muscles weren’t just for show. “You better feel grateful, darling. I hardly have any ‘first time’s left.”

The thick tip of his cock forced its way inside, then a harsh thrust made your eyes roll back into your head. Water resistance made the movement less intense than he intended, but several inches of his massive length were snugly inside your pussy. He continued pulling you down until a pretty bulge protruded from your stomach, though he still wasn’t fully sheathed in you. Doflamingo sighed in relief and reclined back on his forearms, submerged in the turquoise water up to his pecs. “Go on, please your king.”

You braced your palms right above his flashy gold nipple piercings, found your footing, then started riding his dick at a slow pace, feeling every vein and ridge drag against your inner walls. The water rippled and lightly splashed around you with every movement. 

Doflamingo traced the outline of your lips, and you batted your eyelashes coquettishly as you sucked his finger into your mouth. Definitely a mistake – you pulled away with a scrunched up face and tried to spit out the overpowering taste of chlorine. He cackled and shoved two digits all the way down your throat, twisting them around to hear you gag. 

The king was in paradise. Summer sun beating down on his face, cool water coating his tanned skin, and his favorite toy bouncing on his cock. He was getting bored with the slow grinding of your hips against his pelvis, but he was too relaxed to do anything about it. Getting out of the pool and back into the unbearable heat was the last thing on his mind. 

Doflamingo grabbed the meat of your ass to abruptly take over control of your movements. He bobbed you up and down, admiring the way your tits jiggled before leaning forward to suck a nipple into his mouth. Fingers tangled in his hair as you pulled him closer, gripping tighter when he abused your tits even more.

He rubbed the outline of his cock in your stomach then pressed down on it. You bit back a debauched moan. An angry vein popped in his forehead before he grabbed your cheeks and squeezed meanly. “Don’t hide your cute noises from me.”

“S-sorry – mmmh!” You choked on your own spit when he suddenly slammed balls deep into you, his gigantic cock molding your insides to take him perfectly. 

The sound of a door opening echoed throughout the courtyard. You froze and anxiously sought out the source. Diamante emerged into the sunlight, his red eye makeup smudged by sweat and using his hand to fan himself. You leaned forward against Doflamingo to cover your breasts, not wanting to ignite his possessive nature, but made no other move. The blonde didn’t even flinch.

Diamante squinted in confusion. Sun-sparkled water blurred and distorted your lower halves, but what you were doing was incredibly obvious. “Doffy, why the hell are you in the pool?”

His boss was buried in your guts and that was what he was concerned about? 

Doflamingo grinned. “The water actually feels great. You should try it – oh, but not now. I’m a little busy.” The blonde jerked his hips harshly up into you, making you keen. Pink sunglass lenses stayed trained on his friend in an almost challenging way. “What do you want?”

The elite officer just huffed, making you believe that this probably wasn’t the first time he saw Doflamingo like this. An odd pang of jealousy struck you at the thought. He never caught you.

“It’s nothing serious, just find me when you’re done.” He snickered as he stepped back inside, calling over his shoulder, “I’ll keep Dellinger and Sugar away from here. Have fun.”

When the door slammed shut, Doflamingo pressed his lips to your ear and whispered, “I felt your pussy get tighter when he looked at us. You filthy whore. You like being watched? Or do you like being owned by me?” He sounded ecstatic. “I’ll fuck you on camera and broadcast it to the entire country if that makes you happy.”

A shiver ran down your spine. “That’s t-terrible.”

“No, it’s a fucking good idea. Then everyone’ll know who the prettiest girl in Dressrosa belongs to.” His surprisingly sweet comment was punctuated by his hips bucking into you, shoving the head of his cock insistently against your cervix. 

Doflamingo flexed his thighs and began using you like a fleshlight, setting a fast and rough pace while letting out incredibly erotic groans. His tanned skin looked irresistible, so you leaned forward to mouth along his thick neck and then kiss him passionately. Doflamingo eagerly reciprocated, rewarding you by pressing his thumb against your clit to rub circles against it. 

“My perfect little toy,” he panted between kisses, a long string of saliva hanging off the tip of his lengthy tongue. “Such a good girl, so eager to serve me. I couldn’t ask for anything more.” 

Something about the intense heat or the negative effects of water seemed to bring out his more romantic side – though there was nothing romantic about the way his dick bullied its way inside you. You gripped onto his shoulders for dear life, feeling your cunt throb around him. 

“Doffy, ‘m so close, p-please let me…” 

Beautiful eyes peeked out from under his sunglasses – lust-blown, predatory, and crazed. “Cum for me, pet.”

Lips slammed against yours as the building pressure inside you exploded. Your cunt gushed and soaked his cock in your juices, stars flashing behind your eyes. Doflamingo obsessively swallowed your moans, rubbing your clit through the aftershocks of your orgasm. He rutted his hips like a feral dog before he felt his balls tighten. Thick ropes of cum sprayed deep inside your walls and filled you to the brim. Through hazy eyes, you noticed how divine he looked at his peak – damp blonde hair sticking to his forehead and sun reflecting off water droplets coating his skin. Head thrown back in bliss, plush lips parted and letting out a heavenly, whorish moan.

Breathless and giddy laughter snapped you out of your trance. “Whatcha looking at, baby?” His cock was softening, but you felt it twitch from narcissistic delight.

You shook your head to clear your mind, dipped your hands in the pool, then ran your damp fingers through his hair. He instantly relaxed into your touch, sighing contentedly. “I told you it’s refreshing.” 

“And you were fucking right. Maybe I should use the pool more – it’s not like anyone is stupid enough to attack me in my own palace.” Strong, scarred arms wrapped around your shoulders and squeezed you tightly against him. Doflamingo hummed happily, then released you and nodded towards the couch. A grin never left his face and his shaded eyes never left yours. “Be nice and grab our drinks, then get right back here. Our private pool party isn’t over.”

[kairismess]

summer heat.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 description . . .

・:〃➜ with how hot the summer is getting, your favorite boys need some way to cool down and relax . . . preferably with you by their side.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ft. HAIKYUU BOYS – kenma, hinata, and suna.

KENMA.

it doesn't take long for kenma to start heaving, panting, and sweating underneath the heat of the deadly hot rays of the sun. he doesn't think he can last 5 more minutes under the sun with how hot the summer's been, even under the shade of the cute cat-themed parasol you bought for the two of you at the beach, this boy is still sweating an awful lot, reaching for your somehow cool, pool of melted ice for a cooler, for a pack of apple juice.

"is there... any more left..." your pudding haired boyfriend heaved with a raspy voice, clenching to the crumpled, empty plastic juice packet. you look into the box full of melted ice and wince as you break the news to him that he just drank his last apple juice box. the poor boy whimpers silently as he feels the sweat pool on the back of his shirt, and since you felt bad, you got up and dusted the sand off your lap, your hand extended out to him as the heat starts to get to him.

"a swim...?" he meekly repeats after you, his cheeks flushing with warmth rushing to his face, either from embarrassment or from the intense heat of the sun. you nod as you wait for his answer, with him taking your hand weakly, slowly pulling you closer to him with a smile. "...alright, alright, i'll take a dip in the water... but just a few minutes of cuddles...?" he pleads, his golden almond eyes begging for you to hold him to keep him from falling apart from the sheer ruthlessness of the heat.

HINATA.

hinata isn't usually one to complain about the weather, but with the rise of the past week's temperature, he's been pretty much exhausted every time he goes out; and it's a big bummer, because he so badly wants to take you out on a date and enjoy some sceneries together, go to the beach, have a nice dinner with you... but the heat makes you both too lazy to get out of the house.

he can't emphasize to you how much he wants to go out with you, while being in front of the fan, sweating a storm. you try to reassure him and tell him you two don't have to go out to enjoy each other's company, but your little tangerine wants the best date for you after being abroad for a long while and having to focus on his volleyball career and training months prior.

while your sunshine sulks about not being able to take you out, you scoop up a couple of bowls of ice cream for the two of you, handing one of the bowls to him. you explain to him that, even though you also want to go out with him, you don't need all those fancy outings to be happy with him–you're more than happy sharing some ice cream with him on a hot day.

you have no idea just how happy you made him, because it was like the clouds parted from the sun, and the room got five times warmer with the growth of his shining smile. "y-yeah! i guess i feel the same way too... i mean, all i want is to make you happy, the where doesn't really matter, all that matters to me is your happiness, love." he beams, and though you try to warn him his ice cream will melt, he doesn't mind, because his ice cream will stay sweet no matter how melty it'll get; for now, all he wants to focus on is you and how adorable you look eating up your ice cream... maybe hoping to feed you some on your spoon.

SUNA.

your boyfriend suna is usually calm, cool, and collected; making it hard for you to know what it is he wants or is feeling. but the nasty highs the temperature outside is reaching brings out the hidden character of your usually composed boyfriend, though in a manner you wouldn't expect.

it's a no-brainer that the heat can make someone a bit lazy to move their body to get things done, and your boy understands that too much, that he wants you to give yourself a break and cool off for a little bit from your chores at home and suffer from the intense heat.

and how would he get you to do that? by offering the perfect at home date between you two in your room–with a tv show to binge, a closet full of snacks, a minifridge full of cool drinks, and the AC on blast with him and your pillows and stuffed animals waiting for you.

"hey, um..." he calls out to you in his gravelly voice, gently grabbing your wrist, pulling you closer to him. his pale green eyes gazing at you, with neediness in those orbs of his. "i turned on the AC, and since, y'know, that recent show you've wanted to binge just released all episodes available, and the snack bar we have in our room is stacked up... why not take a break from the chores and just chill out with me, babe?" and how could you say no to his desperate pleading face?

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

Harry on holiday with the fam and the bubba is being really ratty because he’s tired so harry decided to take him for a walk in his stroller to try and get him to fall asleep.

Tired Baby Styles.

my masterlist || ask me anything <3

my blurb masterlist is here!

authors note - long hair harry as a dad has me going feral, enjoy :)

word count - 1.5k

in which, you, harry and your one and a half year old son, elliott are holidaying in spain, where your little one won’t go down for his afternoon nap, so your boyfriend comes up with an idea to get him to doze off.

In the heart of a picturesque coastal paradise, the sun-drenched atmosphere of a perfect holiday unfurls. As you step into the scene, the gentle rustling of palm trees draws your attention skyward. Their emerald fronds dance in harmonious rhythm with the ocean breeze, casting dappled shadows on the poolside oasis below.

Beside the sparkling cerulean waters of the hotel swimming pool, a symphony of joyous laughter fills the air. A group of exuberant children, their faces adorned with gleeful smiles, leap into the cool embrace of the water, their splashes creating iridescent droplets that catch the sun's golden rays. Each joyful jump adds to the melody of excitement echoing across the pool area.

Lounge chairs adorned with vibrant towels are strategically arranged around the pool's periphery. Here, holidaymakers bask in the warmth of the sun's affectionate caress, their skin kissed by the sun's radiant glow. Their languid postures bear witness to the relaxation that accompanies these precious moments of reprieve from everyday life. Colorful parasols dot the scene, offering a sanctuary of shade to those seeking solace from the sun's fiery embrace.

As the sun's warm embrace envelops the scene, your heart flutters with a familiar sense of contentment. Beside you, your boyfriend of three years, Harry, lounges on a sun-bed, his magnetic presence amplified by the vibrant surroundings. His captivating gaze meets yours, the unspoken connection between you two as strong as ever.

Harry's trademark long hair is gathered into a casual man bun, showcasing the effortless elegance that has become synonymous with his style. The strands that escape the bun shimmer like spun gold, catching the sunlight in a breathtaking dance. His navy blue swim shorts perfectly complement the azure backdrop, a reflection of both the sea and the sky.

Tattoos, each one a piece of art etched onto his skin, paint a story of his journey and passions. The sun cream delicately applied on them accentuates their intricate designs, turning them into living masterpieces that glow beneath the sun's warm touch. The canvas of his skin becomes a testament to his individuality, every inked mark an expression of his creativity and authenticity.

As the gentle waves provide a soothing symphony, your fingers find their way to entwine with his, a familiar gesture of affection that needs no words. The world around you seems to fade, leaving only the two of you and the timeless tranquillity of this moment.

His eyes, a kaleidoscope of emotions, hold yours in a tender gaze that speaks volumes. It's in these quiet, unguarded moments that you're reminded of the depth of your connection, the bond that has grown stronger with each passing day.

As the tranquil embrace of the sun-soaked paradise continues, a sudden shift in the atmosphere ripples through the scene. The melodic lull of the waves falters, and the connection between you and Harry falters for a brief moment. The cause of this disruption is your one and a half year old son, Elliot, whose tired cries pierce through the serene ambiance.

The cries grow louder, and your attention is drawn away from the shared moment to the source of the distress. At the edge of the pool area, you spot Elliot, his tiny face flushed with frustration and exhaustion. The vibrant glow of his blue eyes, a mirror of your own, is marred by glistening tears, reflecting his fatigue and the frustration of a disrupted slumber.

With swift concern, Harry shifts his position on the sun-bed, his tattooed arms extending towards you as if to offer his support. Your fingers reluctantly disentangle from his, a reluctant separation born out of parental instinct. As you approach your distressed son, the cooling breeze seems to carry away the tranquillity that once enveloped the scene.

Bending down to scoop Elliot into your arms, you hold him close, his small frame trembling with fatigue. His sobs echo in your ears, a heartbreaking melody that resonates with the challenges of parenthood. Despite the picturesque surroundings, the most important moment right now is attending to the needs of your son, who has endured a restless night.

As Elliot's cries persist, a sense of helplessness begins to tug at your heart. Despite your best efforts, his sobs show no signs of abating. It's in this moment of shared concern that Harry's soothing presence becomes a lifeline.

With a tender understanding in his eyes, Harry suggests, "M’heart, why don't I take him f’a walk in his stroller? Maybe a change of scenery will help him settle, and y’could use some rest too, considering how the night went."

Touched by his thoughtfulness, you nod appreciatively, your weariness evident in your eyes. Gently handing over Elliot to Harry's awaiting arms, you feel the warmth of his embrace envelop your son. Elliot's cries seem to soften as he nestles against his father's chest, finding comfort in the familiar heartbeat that has always been a source of solace.

With a delicate touch, Harry secures Elliot into his stroller, his gentle hands fastening the buckles with practised ease. As he leans over, his soothing voice fills the air, "Alright, little buddy, we're going f’a walk. Let's see if we can calm down, yeah?"

Elliott's cries continue, a mixture of exhaustion and the desire to be held evident in every sob. The tiny hands that reach out towards Harry's face tug at his heartstrings, and he leans in to brush his lips against Elliott's forehead.

"I know, mate. I know. It's alright," he coos, his voice a soothing melody that dances in the air.

Harry's fingers linger for a moment on Elliott's cheek, a brief caress that conveys love and understanding. With one last reassuring glance, Harry begins to push the stroller, the wheels gliding smoothly along the path. "We're just going f’a little walk, Eli. You'll feel better soon, I promise."

However, the cries persist, growing louder in their protest. Elliott's eyes, pools of innocence and longing, search Harry's face as if pleading to be scooped up into his father's arms. Harry's brow furrows with concern, his heart aching at the sight of his son in distress.

"I know y’want to be held, buddy," he murmurs, his fingers gently brushing Elliott's cheek. "But sometimes a walk can help. You'll see."

Elliott's cries escalate, and Harry's resolve softens. With a tender sigh, he comes to a stop and kneels beside the stroller.

"Alright, alright," he concedes, his voice a mixture of love and amusement. "You win, pal. Y’can come into daddy’s arms."

As he carefully lifts Elliott from the stroller, the little one's sobs gradually subside into sniffles. The warmth of Harry's embrace, the steady rhythm of his heart, provides the comfort that Elliott had been seeking.

"There we go," Harry murmurs, his lips brushing against Elliott's fuzzy head. "Sometimes all y’need is a cuddle, huh?"

Elliott's fingers curl into the fabric of Harry's shirt, his cries softening into whimpers as he nuzzles against his father's chest. With a determined resolve, Harry straightens up and looks towards you, offering a reassuring smile. "I'll walk him until he falls asleep, then I'll bring him back. Don't worry, m’love."

As they slowly move away from the poolside

With Elliott nestled in his arms, Harry's touch is a gentle and soothing presence against the little one's back. The rhythmic motion of his hand, moving up and down in a comforting caress, matches the cadence of his footsteps as he begins to walk around the hotel. The atmosphere in the reception area is hushed, a backdrop of understated luxury that contrasts with the earlier scene by the pool.

As they traverse the hotel's elegant corridors, Harry's soft voice hums a tune that's both tender and familiar. The reception staff offer knowing smiles, a nod to the shared experiences of parenthood. Harry's strides are purposeful yet gentle, a dance of patience and care as he navigates each turn and hallway, his focus solely on the slumbering bundle in his arms.

Passing by the tennis courts, the sound of a playful match echoes in the distance. The rhythmic thud of balls and the occasional laughter form a comforting symphony that blends seamlessly with the ambiance of the moment. Harry's gaze shifts briefly, his eyes catching the lively scene before he returns his attention to Elliott.

As they continue their journey, the soft glow of the indoor bar beckons like a haven. The polished wooden floors beneath their feet create a muted melody, the rhythmic tapping of Harry's steps a quiet rhythm that harmonises with the calm of the evening. It's here, surrounded by the ambient light and the low murmur of conversations, that Elliott's eyelids begin to droop.

As they step into the bar, the air carries the scent of aged wood and the promise of relaxation. Harry's hand continues its soothing motion, now softer and slower, his voice a tender whisper.

"Almost there, little mate," he murmurs, his eyes fixed on the peaceful expression that gradually settles on Elliott's face.

In the dim light, they find a quiet corner, a shelter within the embrace of the hotel's interior. Harry eases himself into a plush armchair, still cradling Elliott against his chest. The vibrations of his voice hum against Elliott's ear, a lullaby of security and warmth. And then, as if the journey had been leading to this moment, Elliott's eyes flutter closed.

A tranquil sigh escapes Harry's lips, a mixture of relief and tenderness. He gazes down at his peacefully slumbering son, a soft smile gracing his features.

"Sleep tight, little man," he whispers, his hand gently cupping the back of Elliott's head.

[lazyneonrabbitt]

Lemon-aide

Daryl Dixon x reader

My entry for @ghostboneswrites2's summer challenge! I chose Lemonade as the prompt.

Fluff, slice of life.

🍋 Go join!! The deadline is August 31st 🍋

The summer heat was relentless.

All around the communities were kiddie pools set up, paradols of all sides stood in front yards to create more shade for everyone.

During the day all the children lived out of the pools. Parents stayed on their porch to watch and for a moment the outside world was forgotten.

"Hey girlie, come and bring me some of that good stuff!" One of the young adult residents found it unfair you were watching Grace and Judith at the side of the inflatable pool and bringing them cool lemonade from the fresh fruits in the garden.

"This is for the kids." You stood and pointed at the pitcher in your hands. "Go get your own fruit from the pantry." With a kind gesture of sticking out your tongue you put the pitcher back in the shade of the umbrella you had on the ground next to the pool.

"Auntie, why won't you share?" Grace questioned as she sipped from her cup of lemonade.

"Yeah, it's so warm. Sharing is good!" Judith happily added in her matter of fact tone.

Being stared down by the two little girls had you at a loss for answers. They were way too smart and sassy for their own good.

Right at that moment Daryl came padding over, bare feet, loose jeans and a sleeveless top was his look for the day and if you weren't already melting from the sun, you would be from how good Daryl looked. "Oh, but I'll share." You took a cup and poured it full of lemonade before setting the pitcher back down and heading over to Daryl. "Hey Pookie, want some lemonade?" With the sweetest smile and a little shimmy you offered him the drink which he accepted with a great thanks. "Hmhm, tha's mighty sweet. Both yer offer and the drink, thanks sweetheart."

From the pool, Judith loudly welcomed Daryl back, to which he raised his cup and smiled at her. He followed along as you strode back to sit with the girls again under the shade of the large parasol that covered half of the pool. "You girls got it good, huh. A whole pool to yourselves." Daryl joined you on the ground and immediately got splashed with water.

Judith and Grace were all giggles and smiles as they had the time of their lives, all while you and Daryl shared drinks and glances.

The fun went on until the sun started setting and Aaron and Michonne came to get their daughters for bed

When the two adults returned there was a small campfire going across the street, casting a nice glow over the now dark area.

Daryl had excused himself for a moment as well, and you had almost forgotten the reason if you hadn't looked up at the night sky and saw the moon hang high and full among the stars set in darkness.

By now you were laying down on your back, stargazing in the grass with all the sun screens now closed again. It was so peaceful you hadn't even noticed Daryl coming back until he flopped down next to you, panting like crazy.

"Oh, you poor guy.." you sat up and ruffled his fur. "All that fluff must be torture for you now."

Daryl gave you a theatrical whine in return. "Yeahh.. so bad." While you were busy feeling bad for him he had his jaws around the cup at your side and threw his head back to down the sweet lemonade.

"Hey! That was mine, you ass." You frowned as you snatched the cup from his mouth. "If you're so hot go take a dip in the river." You wiped the drool of the cup with the bottom of your shirt and moved to fill it again.

Your back was turned for only a second when a large splash of water hit you. You were drenched in a second.

"Oh you little..." Turning around to smack him you saw Daryl lay curled up in the kiddie pool, a content look on his face and lazily blowing bubbles with his nose half under water. "Happy now?"

His head rose slightly, showing you a big smile. "Hmhmm yeah."

Not long after it wasn't as nice anymore. Daryl had moved his head over the inflated pool edge and poked your cup with his nose. "Please."

You rolled your eyes at him but agreed, giving him the small cup of lemonade before he went to grab at the pitcher. "Come on. S'too hot.." Daryl gave you the biggest puppy eyes he could and easily won you over.

"Fine, you win. Gimme a second." You got up and made your way inside the house, leaving Daryl confused by your sudden departure.

Inside you went to find the biggest container for water and filled it up, having found a round plastic tub that was a perfect makeshift punch bowl. At the counter you made quick work of chopping up lemons and tossed the fruits in the water, squeezing some others out into the water as well.

Taking the thing outside was more difficult than you thought. You had almost forgotten how heavy water got in high quantities.

"Here you go, you big puppy." Right at the edge of the pool you placed the large tub of lemonade down for your furry friend. "Happy now?"

Daryl franticly nodden his head and downed half the tub in one go before coming over to leave lemon flavored kisses all over you. As you struggled to get him off of you he grabbed at your sides with his wet paws and pulled you into the pool with him.

"This is my thanks for bringing you lemonade?" You busied yourself with wiping the hair out of your face and rubbing water from your eyes while Daryl only laughed. "Wanted you too. Also nice and sweet."

You loved that ever since Daryl was allowed to walk around in his changed form he had gotten more confident about himself, but you never thought bringing him some lemonade would have been the turning point for him to admit he liked you.

You were gonna bring him a refreshing drink more often.

A/N: It's been a while since I've entered a challenge! And you know I can't resist writing my AU as long as the challenge allows for it~

[cumulo-ghoulll]

Beach Day HC 🏖️

Copia likes to treat his ghouls and ghoulettes to a little vacation every now and again. During the summer, the pack always begs for a beach day.

Dew spends as little time as physically possible in the sun as he complains that he needs to keep his skin as pale as possible. Once he's been chased down by Aether and soaked in suncream, he usually caves and spends the rest of the day sunning on the warmest rock he can find. By the end of the day, he's usually taken off his swim shorts and, once again, has to be chased down by Aether and wrapped in a towel.

Rain spends almost the whole day in the sea. He is a freshwater ghoul so he can't breathe under the sea as long as he usually can in the lake at the ministry. If the beach is empty he'll partially unglamour and swim quite far out. He loves hunting big fish in the deeper parts of the sea and bringing back his catches for Copia. The fish he brings back is normally cooked by Swiss for everyone to eat but Rain prefers to eat his raw.

Mountain likes to collect shells and seaweed and decorate his antlers with his finds. Copia brings a bag for Mount to put his pebbles and shells in. The best thing he ever got from the beach was a pearl Rain had brought back from the seabed. He does go for a little paddle in the sea for a few minutes but only of Rain is there too as Mountain is actually quite scared of the sea and drowning in particular.

Swiss is in charge of the barbeque and he loves it. He brings a ridiculous amount of hotdogs and burgers and ends up cooking Rain's fish too. When he's not cooking, he likes to soak up the sun, not as much as Dew but he likes it none the less. If Copia brings any floats, he gets Rain to drag him around on it as Rain is ridiculously fast in the water. Swiss usually ends up flying off whatever float he's being dragged around on. He also loves recreating "I've lost my diamond earring!!" with Phantom.

Aether is like the dad of the group and that definitely doesn't change at the beach. When he's not being buried by the ghoulettes or sleeping under an umbrella, he helps Phantom learn to swim. Aether's a great swimmer so he doesn't mind teaching Phantom. He does spend a ridiculous amount of time reinflating Phantom's armbands as the bug loves to deflate them. Aether takes the orders for ice cream as well and makes sure everyone gets the ice cream they want.

Phantom prefers to spend most of his time at the beach with the ghoulettes. He absolutely loves making massive and extravagant sand palaces and then jumping into them after. If he's not swimming with Aether, he likes to run around on the shore and more shallow areas of the sea. Phantom prefers to run on all fours still as he's still not completely used to walking upright because of how short of a time he's been Topside compared to everyone else. If Swiss and Copia are in the sea, he loves getting thrown between them (with Aether there to grab him if he doesn't make it all the way)

Cirrus and Cumulus are attached at the hip anyway and that doesn't change at the beach. Cirrus is almost constantly rubbing more sun lotion on Cumulus as she burns incredibly easily. They love playing with the bat and ball Copia brings but have to shout for Rain when the ball goes too far out. Cirrus loves tanning and literally times how long she's on one side for. Meanwhile, Cumulus sits at the edge of the shade with a parasol next to her. Cumulus is usually chugging a coke as well as she gets super dehydrated out in the sun and she has to force Cirrus to drink anything at all.

Aurora and Sunnie tend to hang around with Phantom. Sunnie helps him build his sand palace and Aurora is chief decorator (she has to collect shells to stick on the sides). All three of them usually sneak up to the freezer box while Aether is sleeping and take as many ice creams they can carry. Aurora likes to look around the rock pools and get Sunnie to tell her what the different creatures are.

Copia is usually asleep on his deckchair with his hat covering his face. Occasionally, he can be convinced to be buried in the sand by the ghouls but only if Aether is on standby to dig him out. As much as he loves taking his pack out to the beach, he gets a constant barrage of, "Papa, look!" "Copia! Look what I've got!" "Papa! Tell him to give me that back!" "Papa! You're not watching!!" "PAPA THERE'S SEA WATER IN MY EYES!!" "Copia? Have you seen my sunglasses?" "PAPA THAT CRAB JUST PINCHED MY BUTT!!" "PAPA I JUST GOT STUNG BY A JELLYFISH!! IM GOING TO DIE!!" "C? What's this?" "Copia there's sand in my mouth..." "Papa I just stepped on something sharp." "Papa I left my hat in the car!" "PAPA!! LOOK AT THIS FISH AHAHAHA I CAUGHT IT ALL BY MYSELF!!" "PAPA TAKE A PICTURE OF ME!!" "Copia? I've lost my goggles in the sea." "PAPA I JUST DROPPED MY ICE CREAM!! CAN I HAVE ANOTHER? WHAT DO YOU MEAN THERE'S NONE LEFT??" "PAPA!! DEW JUST SAID HE HOPES I GET EATEN BY A SHARK." "papa. jaws isn't real, right?" Copia usually leaves with a headache, a sunburn, and a bag of rocks and shells.

[tacticiandrafts]

THE CRUCIFIXION ; Nikolai Gogol, Fyodor Dostoevsky x fem!Reader

Part one / 5.2k words

SYNOPSIS . . . Your plans to lay low as a fugitive in the magical capital of Athlyne are spoiled upon meeting Nikolai, an eccentric conman. Interested in your powers, he introduces you to Fyodor, his charming and mysterious associate. You’ve stepped into his trap before you know it.

CW/TAGS . . . Dark fantasy setting, mentions of drug dependency and a corrupt government, reader is an anxious mess

P.S. ! HELLOOO EVERYNYAN! this is part one of a series (out of ~6 or 7, tentatively). i’m experiencing nikolai fever so i’m excited to continue letting him consume my mind :)

also posted on ao3 @ tactician!

As a light breeze drifted through the window and fanned your hot neck, your eyes fluttered shut. You let the pestle slip from your hand momentarily as you leaned against the counter, shivering as the sweat cooled. From behind you, Dr. Yosano chuckled.

“Letting the heat get to you?”

“Yeah, sorry. This is the last one, though.”

She peered over your shoulder and nodded approvingly as you finished crushing a mixture of ginkgo root and dried centipede. “Looks good.” Counting the bottles neatly tucked away on the shelf above you, she let out a low whistle. “You’re really on top of things today. I thought we’d be behind on orders.”

You grinned, dragging a forearm across your damp hairline. “I’ve got an errand to run, so I thought I might take my leave a bit early.”

She nodded approvingly. “That’s fine with me. Thanks for the hard work.”

You spent a few more minutes helping her box up the orders you had just made and finally straightened your aching back with a groan. A strong arm snaked around your shoulders and you shivered as Dr. Yosano smirked, a dark glint in her eye. “Are you sore? Why don’t you let me take a look, hm?”

A shiver traveled down your spine, and you doubted it had anything to do with the remnants of magical seeds you’d just been working with. You flailed a bit as you slipped from her tightening grip, bounding toward the door to pick up the satchel and parasol you’d thrown on the hook earlier that morning. “No thanks, I should get going. I’ll see you for dinner!” Her dramatic sigh drifted out behind you as the door swung open and closed, the humidity fully enveloping you.

The afternoon sun hung high, occasionally eclipsed by passing clouds. The summer air was thick as the pulp of a blood orange; you cowered under the parasol as you made your way down the street. Even the shade that canopied the area surrounding the apothecary could do little to relieve your discomfort as a damp film coated your skin. 

Auguste Apothecary, the pride and joy of your boss, Akiko Yosano, was nestled by the side of a towering zelkova elm. The massive size of the tree made the building appear dwarfish and shoddy, but its regular customers hardly minded its outward appearance. Though the elite had their own pharmaceutical facilities closer to the palace and Auguste had a bit of a shady reputation, it was located smack dab in the middle of the largest residential district in the capital of Athlyne, so it had likely never experienced a shortage of customers from the day of its opening. 

Dr. Yosano’s pool of patrons wasn’t huge by any means, but no one would dare visit another apothecary after walking into hers. Her knowledge of natural medicine was unmatched and her ingredients, supplied by a talented farming mage, were of the highest quality. Though, you probably would have stayed by her side even if she turned out to be an incompetent fraud. She was sharp and incredibly capable, this was true, but you thought that her kindness and discretion were her finest qualities by far. For that reason, you expected that no one was more loyal to her than you were. 

You had run away from your hometown, located in a distant territory of Athlyne, at age fourteen. Fleeing to an adjacent province and finding work as an apothecary’s assistant in exchange for food and shelter, you lived with a constant knot of anxiety twisting in your stomach, wondering how many days of peace you had left until your family found you. That was, until the Meursault Post arrived on the shop’s doorstep, containing an advertisement for a position at one of the capital’s finest apothecaries with the promise of shelter and a decent salary. Athlyne’s capital was densely populated and located hundreds of miles away from your home—it was your best shot at a halfway normal life. Adrenaline running all the way to your toes, you traveled for two weeks on about half the rations you really needed for such a trip and eventually found yourself collapsed in Auguste’s entryway. In your starved and fearful state, you’d begged Dr. Yosano to take you in, listing every personal merit you could think of, and all she’d done was shrug. Sure, she said nonchalantly, come here and show me what you know. As it turned out, no one else had shown up regarding the position (she was a teenager, only a few years older than you, and everyone else had simply laughed in her face) so she would have hired you no matter what sort of impression you made. Regardless, you could feel simple appreciation and sympathetic care in her every action. After all, she never asked any questions. She had no interest in your origins, nor did she pry when she found you sprawled under the elm tree in the middle of the night, under eyes dark and knees bouncing. She helped you set up your living quarters in one of the cabins behind the building, helped you make dinner every night, and wordlessly prepared a steaming cup of jasmine tea each time you were hit with a bout of insomnia. 

Hitching a ride on the back of a supply cart headed toward the lower market, you thought you might pick up a batch of sweets or a bottle of wine for her.

Your thoughts trailed off as the cart began to head downhill, passing through the open gates into the underground sector of the capital. The air became cooler the further in you went, and you let out a little sight of relief. The streets there were sprawling, narrow, and winding. It was easy to get lost and even easier to find yourself trapped for hours searching for the exit. Though it may have felt a bit claustrophobic, the lower market was far livelier and less sterile than the markets above ground. It was rare to find Count Bram’s police force wandering around there, so the atmosphere was energetic and relaxed, with a variety of talented performers and community-oriented business owners. On top of that, the usually tight regulations on magical powers and objects were far more lenient, so there were certain things you could only see or purchase there.

Dr. Yosano never spoke of it, so you didn’t dare ask, but rumor had it that the lower market was the territory of her former teacher and the previous owner of Auguste Apothecary. Little was known of the shadowy Dr. Mori, but stories often circulated of the scandal that drove him underground. It was said that the apothecary was burned to the ground by the military after numerous reports of malpractice leading to death. It was revealed that he was an unregistered mage, but his imbued medications were so powerful that Count Bram allowed him to run free in the lower market provided that he offered his services to the palace. Left in the ashes of a terrible disgrace, a still teen-aged Dr. Yosano received funding from an anonymous benefactor and rebuilt the apothecary herself. Now, she barely broached the topic of Dr. Mori, but she was outspoken in her disdain for the medications he produced.

Incidentally, these medications were the reason for your errand. If you followed certain whispers, you’d be able to find one of Dr. Mori’s subordinates selling suppressants, pills that blocked your magical ability. You felt guilty for keeping this from Dr. Yosano, but it couldn’t be helped. At the moment, suppressants were your lifeline. Though the apothecary’s ingredients were nothing to sneeze at, you hadn’t yet succeeded in making your own solution with anything close to the same efficacy. Dr. Mori’s methods to make such a medication remained a mystery. 

Jumping off the cart, you weaved through the crowd. Cheers erupted as a man, likely a former member of the traveling Fitzgerald Circus, juggled fiery tennis balls with his bare hands. Going further downhill and turning onto several more backstreets, your eyes roved over the various shops, snoozing animals, and hollering people before arriving at the front of a small and unassuming tavern. Squeezing through the door, you passed through the low-lit hallway and ducked around the corner past the bar to find the back room. You swore under your breath as you approached the door. Low stock. Be back Monday. Sorry :). Reading the words, a deep frown crossed your face. You had run out days ago and hadn’t had the time to make the trip until today. 

Cursing Dr. Mori’s subordinate until the end of time (count your days, Ichiyou Higuchi!), you turned back, ignoring the old bartender’s piercing, monocled stare. You would’ve stopped to play a game or two of chess with him as you usually did, but you were too absorbed in your current dilemma to give him much other than an apologetic smile and a wave. This situation was a first, but you guessed that you only had a few days before your power began coming back to you. 

Suppressants were a double-edged sword. They helped unregistered mages live normal lives without having to serve in Count Bram’s court, police force, or military by erasing their abilities without a trace. Even if a tip sent the police knocking at your door, they’d find it impossible to tell whether you possessed abnormal powers or not. But dependency on suppressants was a lifelong struggle. There were no unwanted side effects, but they rendered users financially dependent on Dr. Mori’s underground trade forever. If you stopped taking them, your powers would return, for a short time more powerful and difficult to control than they had ever been. Of course Dr. Yosano didn’t approve: they were a bandaid of a solution to a larger problem that would only benefit one man in the end.

Mages were few and far between in Athlyne and its territories, but they were plentiful in the capital’s lower market due to Dr. Mori’s services. Whole families were killed serving in the military generations before you were born. Now, during Bram’s rule, mages were either from one of two families serving directly under the Count or they were the product of a mutation, the first of their kind in their family. Most members of the latter group did everything in their power to avoid being drafted, and that usually meant selling their livelihoods to afford a lasting supply of suppressants. The state of the nation at the hands of powerful figures was unforgivable, and Dr. Mori’s greed only worsened the struggles of the common people. But given your own circumstances, coexisting with your magic was unthinkable. Ridding yourself of that curse was the entire reason you started anew in the first place. So, like many others, you found yourself in an impossible dilemma.

In your restlessness, you must have made a wrong turn. When you finally broke out of your own head and took a look around, the surrounding streets were unfamiliar. You let out a slow and heavy sigh. Perhaps you’d wander and shop for a while before asking for directions.

At that moment, a hand slipped into your own. Your arm was lifted above your head with a flourish, and before you could react, you were spun around to face the man who’d grabbed you.

“Hello, my lost-looking lady!”

You blinked at him, trying to swallow down your instinctual panic. You didn’t expect to be left alone in your wandering knowing that the capital’s conmen were notoriously bothersome, but abruptly grabbing a stranger was like asking for a fist to the nose. …Gosh, though, your annoyance stuttered as your gaze traveled over his face. His radiant skin, mischievous smile, and glowing eyes almost distracted you from the scar running across his eye and the calluses littering the heel of his palm. Even these attributes were attractive, cutting through his forcibly high tone and boyish features. He was tall, with a long braid thrown over his broad shoulder… You huffed in an attempt to shoo these thoughts out of your head. As you stared up at him, numerous passersby peeked at the bizarre scene before turning their heads down and briskly walking away. It would be best to yank your hand back and continue on as though nothing had happened, much the same as everyone else. 

“May I ask what you’re doing touching me?” And yet, you did the opposite. You couldn’t be blamed. He was very handsome.

“Allow me to explain. I couldn’t resist seeing a surprised look on a lovely face like yours! You see, I can tell you’re in need of excitement!” 

“Ah, twenty words or less, please. I’m trying to decide if I should punch you or hear you out, you see.” 

“Oh! I like you already! I have fifteen left now, right? Wait, no, I messed up! I’m running out!” He squealed as he let you go, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth. You frowned, trying to hide the amusement beginning to mask your annoyance. Instead of responding, you placed a hand on your hip and raised a brow at him. The man dropped out of the cutesy pose he had been holding and took off his hat, bringing it to his chest in a polite gesture. His voice lowering, though still not without a teasing lilt, he began to explain. “My name is Nikolai and I’m a fortune teller!” He threw his hat up and gave you a spin, catching it as he faced you again. This time, he inched closer, eyes narrowing. “I sensed quite a turbulent energy as you passed by just now. In fact, I can tell how special you are! You can see your own destiny, can’t you? How exciting! Would you spare a moment for a reading?”

You shivered, tensing. Those words, a bit too close to the truth, felt far too pointed. And that look in his eyes—did he know you? Though this was undoubtedly a part of his routine, you couldn’t help the way his words triggered your deeply rooted paranoia. Perhaps he recognized you—but he couldn’t, you were so far from home, and the photos would be outdated by now…You were falling right into such an easily avoidable trap. Even so, with the threat of your magic looming over you, your judgment became impossible to trust. Dread pulled at your shoulders and fingertips, the thought of this man knowing something chilling your blood. You’d have to indulge him, just to be sure. Even if you were only being paranoid, your life was on the line here.

(There was no need to mention the small part of your mind that was bored and frustrated and very much wanted to hang out with a funny and attractive man, so long as you kept a tight hold on your wallet.)

“A reading…?” You tilted your head, coy.

“Yes, your fortune! My shop is just down the road, so what do you say? Will you place your future in my trusty hands?” His words were laced with so much mirth and mischief that you wondered if he was even taking himself seriously.

Hesitantly, you shrugged. “Fine. My plans for today have fallen through. Lead the way.”

Anyone who took such a tone with him was probably not likely to agree to follow him in the end. You could tell from his genuine look of surprise at your words, which quickly morphed into even greater mirth than before.

An infectious giggle rang through the air. He wasted no time invading your personal space again, hooking an arm around your elbow and starting to skip. You would have tripped and slammed your face into the ground if not for his surprising strength as he pulled you along. If you were anyone else, your suspicion might have eased up as you processed how ridiculous the two of you definitely looked, frolicking through the crowds like a couple of hearty drunk men. 

He didn’t take you very far, making only a few turns (hopping all the way) before leading you down a slightly quieter street. There, you found yourself pushing through the door of what looked like a small library or bookstore. Clouds of dust puffed out as you moved through the space, ducking your head to squeeze past eerily low rafters toward a sitting room in the back. This was obviously not his shop (an old man greeted you when you walked in), and he probably rented this back room out for his hustles. Still, it looked surprisingly cozy, with an old armchair positioned near the entrance and a small walnut coffee table between two stools in the back. Nikolai had finally let go to allow you to navigate there without encountering any hazards, bewildering you a bit as he bounded through with almost impossible grace given his height. You took the chance to look around, wondering if you felt impressed or put off by his design choices. The creaky wooden boards were muted by numerous rugs scattered across the floor, an eclectic collection of oil lamps bathed the room in a low but warm yellow light, and a violently red porcelain tea set glittered on the table. Taking it all in, you sat down, playing with your hands for a moment as you watched Nikolai follow behind you.

A grey cat with barely-there stripes glanced up at him, squinting sleepily on the armchair. He patted its head as he passed, chirping in feline fashion as he met its eyes. The cat simply flopped to the side, curling its paws as its soft, fat stomach spilled over the cushion beneath it. He almost mirrored it in the way he plopped himself on the stool across from you, grinning. 

Sweat began to gather at your temples. He continued staring at you without saying anything. The attention flustered you, so you averted your gaze to his hands. They were long and slender, and they had felt gentle, rough and warm in your hand—make up your mind! Are you scared or attracted to him?! “So…shall we?”

Nikolai nodded, gesturing widely to the cat. “Don’t mind my assistant, oka~y? She won’t spill your secrets, so don’t worry about a thing!”

“Yeah, sure,” you snorted. You were starting to regret everything from the moment you woke up that morning as you stared at the lounging cat, thinking you really needed to work on your impulse control, so you decided to turn your attention toward Nikolai as he shuffled a set of cards. You hadn’t seen him pull them out. 

Now that you were sitting right in front of him, your eyes moved absently over him a few times.

He wore a long white tunic with ornate black embroidery traveling past the collar and circling the buttons down the front. His white pants were similarly intricate, the patterns disappearing where the wide legs were tucked neatly into his boots and the waist was fastened to his hips by a silky black sash. Strings of pearly beads and brightly colored tassels adorned him from head to toe: they hung from his neck, draped across his black fur cap, and swayed across his pants. The maximalist patterning and embellishing of his clothes wasn’t unusual for an entertainer, especially one who operated in the lower market. Showmanship was probably what paid the bills, after all. Still, there was something more to him that you couldn’t place hidden beneath the flashy gestures and showy words. Perhaps if anyone else wore those clothes, so fit for a clown, they’d be easier to avoid altogether. But Nikolai seemed scarily calculating for the second-rate, theatrical scammer he presented himself to be. Though he disguised it well, you still couldn’t shake off the feeling that he’d approached you for a reason. His words and his gaze were just too pointed. The thought startled you, and you averted your eyes again for fear of him noticing how blatantly you were checking him out. If he noticed, he made no indication if it, immersed in his own show.

“Ah! I see!” He gasped loudly, pulling a single card out from the stack and scrutinizing it before nodding dramatically. He held the card between his index and middle finger, shutting his eyes as though he was performing some sort of ritual. Then, he spun it around and let go of it, letting it flutter down in front of you.

A stranger in the capital using cards to tell the future was utterly laughable to you. Only the scattered descendants of the Chekhov family had the innate gift of foresight. Even if these cards themselves were magical, they had to have been imbued by a Royal Sorcerer of the Camus family, and artifacts made by a Camus were just about as hard to come by as the throne itself. Nikolai was obviously not a Chekhov, and he couldn’t possibly afford an artifact if he was performing cons in the lower market.

Nevertheless, the image that stared back at you froze your pulse.

You recognized The Lovers from your own handling of cards nearly a decade ago. This particular rendition featured two birds circling each other over an abyssal, grey sea. They were seagulls, and their coloring was a striking match to the one on the Chekhov family crest: an image you were intimately familiar with.

“Oh my!” Nikolai let out a high-pitched giggle. A horrible heat rose to your neck. “Now, for a quiz! Do you know what this card is telling us?” You opened your mouth, mind racing for an excuse, for a lie, or some other explanation. You couldn’t come up with anything, nor could you bring yourself to get up and run. Though, he barely gave you time to think about it because he didn’t wait for your answer. “We were destined to meet today, darling! This could mean only one thing.”

Your heart began to pound so frantically that you almost missed his next words.

“You and I are soulmates!” He threw himself forward to look even closer at you, his mouth curling into a scandalized grin.

“Um, what?” You couldn’t mask your confusion. Your head was spinning, the shock from what you expected him to say had rendered you dumb. To make matters worse, that most certainly was not what the card meant, and somehow his shoddy grasp of tarot was so funny to you that you shook with the effort it took to force yourself to stay serious.

“As you can see, this card here called out to me. The Lovers! The name says it all.” Though you should have played along the same way you had done this entire time, you forgot to react. He continued on, waving his hands in excitement. “We’re destined to be together! Yay!” 

After a moment, you shook your head in disbelief, heaving out the breath you had been holding in. “Are you messing with me right now? You don’t even know what the cards mean.”

Even the offense he feigned held a trace of barely concealed humor. “Surely not! My assistant can sense it too!” You turned your gaze to the cat, who had rolled over to face away from Nikolai and his loud voice. 

He was ridiculous. You suppressed a smile.

“You are messing with me. This is the worst scam ever. Even though I walked into it.” You started to stand, pouting facetiously.

His hands quickly found yours and he stared at you with an exaggerated, puppy-like sadness. 

“My love!” The sadness quickly dissipated as he winked cheekily. “My services aren’t free, silly.”

The moment abruptly ruined, you recoiled. “What? …You’re serious?” He stuck his tongue out, sliding you a piece of paper (where did that come from?) across the table. You glared down at the beautifully inked, absolutely preposterous bill. A drawing of Nikolai’s face mocked you from beside the numbers. “What’s the point of this? I think you know I’ve never seen this much money in my life.” And I really thought we were flirting just now, even though I still kind of feel as though you might be plotting my downfall.

He nodded, snatching the piece of paper and crumpling it up. “Co~rrect!” He stood, pointing at you. “You’ve gotten yourself into quite the conundrum! You’re in debt because of a scam, but you’re broke as a joke! Wait! Oops, forget I said that! Oh no, what should we do?!”

Your horror, amusement, and bashfulness having now faded slightly, your head was clear enough to observe him. He had a habit of rambling on like he was telling one long inside joke, pretending to get worked up while speaking fast enough to prevent you from getting a word in unless he wanted you to say something. His behavior was beginning to confirm your suspicions—you were convinced now that your original hunch was accurate. He wasn’t at all as dense as he made himself out to be, and he wasn’t just a scammer. 

Still, you couldn’t understand him at all. Nikolai was putting on such an obvious show, one you’d seen many times in your curiosity surrounding the self-proclaimed fortune tellers of the lower market. But nothing about him was adding up. Why did he seek you out? How could his reading have exposed you so thoroughly, even though he had no knowledge of the cards’ true meanings? And if he approached you because he knew who you were, if he was trying to reel you in and sell you off to your family, what was the point of fooling around so obtusely, of making a scene outside? In the capital, your family name was synonymous with dirty money. He’d have more trouble on his hands than it was worth if he attracted too much attention.

All of that being said, he had drawn you in with alarming skill. You were curious. You wanted to run. You wanted more. Your head spun. Should you be running?

Only one thing was clear. He’d spent this time trying to confuse you because he wanted something. What could that be, though, if not the Chekhov family’s ransom money?

“A date!” Nikolai announced his wish before you had even a moment to ponder it. 

Once again, he made you feel slow. The realization made you laugh. “A date with me?”

“A date with you!” He grabbed your hand and spun you around again, this time pulling a single red rose seemingly from thin air. He slipped it behind your ear with a ghostly soft touch and tapped your nose lightly before taking a step back. 

“All of this was a ploy to…ask me out?” It wasn’t, but the joke relaxed you. You wished you could be naive, that you could trust that it was. He offered a knowing smile in return.

“Bin~go! You pass with flying colors!”

You laughed again, loudly, from deep in your stomach. “Great. You can have your date, so I’ll get going now, alright? Quit harassing me.” He took a step back, watching you from a distance now.

The smile that bloomed on his face was small enough to bewilder you again, to quiet your laughter. His eyes lost their mischievous shine as they softened, the clownish pitch disappearing from his voice when he spoke again. It was as if he was speaking to you for the first time. “Sure. Think of this as the start of another game. I’d like it if you entertained me just once more. I have a favor to ask of you, when we meet again.”

His genuine gaze was heart-stopping. It filled every inch of the distance he’d just put between the two of you. Dr. Yosano had taught you to be careful of the unpredictability of strangers in the capital, but your answer came easily.

“Alright. You can find me at Auguste Apothecary when you’re ready. I’ll pay you back. Promise.”

He said nothing, but his eyes narrowed again with his usual jovial pretense as he held the door open and watched you go. 

Continuing on your way as though nothing had happened and your heart wasn’t seizing inside your chest, you found yourself buying a few bottles of wine in a stupor.

Nikolai was nothing if not confusing. How could a man you’d just met touch at your deepest anxieties with just a few cryptic words, sending your heart plummeting to your stomach, then eclipse every inch of fear simply by amusing you with a teasing look and a sharp laugh?

The confusion followed you all the way out of the cool underground air, through the oppressive summer humidity, and to the familiar silhouette of Auguste. 

“Did you travel all that way just to get me some wine? Seriously?”

Dr. Yosano’s familiar voice unfurled your tangled thoughts. You turned to smile at her, embarrassed. “Not exactly. This was the only errand I was able to get done, though.”

She returned your smile with a bemused one of her own. “Sounds like things didn’t go your way today.” She grabbed two glasses and took your hand, wrapping your fingers around the stem of one. “There’s always tomorrow, though. Wanna drink to that?”

You huffed, silently judging her heavy-handed pour as she filled them both. “Sure. To a luckier tomorrow.”

As you took a sip, all the air left your lungs and the force of it nearly bowled you over. Everything around you seemed to disappear, your senses swept away in a vacuum. The image was clearer than any glimpse of the future you’d seen before taking suppressants: your hands, dripping red. Your nails, caked with dirt and blood. Nikolai, his expression obscured as he soaked in the shadows at the furthest corner of the room. A man you’d never met before sat in front of you, smirking. His black hair framed his pale, sullen face like a marble arch, cold to the touch. When he spoke, his words were quiet and soft. They hit you like thorns. You shook your head, angry, scared, and tearful. “It’s because I trust that both of us will be saved,” you retorted, and his smirk twisted.

When the vision ended, it was like a sheet being ripped from over your head. The back of Dr. Yosano’s hand was cooling your forehead and one of the glasses was shattered on the floor, staining everything red. Your fingers, your nails, both of your feet, her wool socks.

You leaned into her touch and thought about how to breathe again. You blinked away everything you had just seen, focusing only on the image of Nikolai, of his face, unreadable.

You were prepared this time. You repeated this like a mantra in your head, thinking of nothing else as the other woman helped you into bed, laying a cold towel over your head. 

You can find me at Auguste Apothecary when you’re ready.

You kept blinking, but the shadows never left, never revealed his eyes.

Even as you recalled all the times you, yourself, weren’t ready, each time you failed at your duties, you kept repeating it. You were prepared. The vision faded, and the words shifted in your mind as you succumbed to sleep.

I’ll find you there soon. Are you ready?

The voice was soft. You bled when you touched it. The sound sent rats scurrying away, fleeing. Everything was cold, like black marble.

By the next evening, you remembered nothing of your dream and could only recall bits and pieces of the vision. Again, you cursed Ichiyou Higuchi, who had really done nothing wrong except for being absent when you needed her. Finally feeling the weight of a bag of suppressants in your hand, you felt you could face anything.

All you needed to do was wait for him to show up.

[urhoneycombwitch]

vampire!Eddie lathered up in sunscreen under a parasol all grumpy while everyone splashes around in the pool because the sunburns he gets now are gnarly and reader told him not to go out without spf 1000

this made me awww out loud

i really do love a brand of vampirism where it doesn’t destroy his life, it just makes it mildly inconvenient. like yeah it’s cool and all that he’s part of the Living Dead, a creature he’s only read about in storybooks and narrated durning campaigns- but fuck’s sake, he can’t have garlic anymore?? like yes he’s a scary vamp but at what cost

it only took one time this summer of him getting a sunburn (red as cherries, all over his back, six days to heal and a whole bucket of aloe. with much whining from a certain Creature of the Night.) for you to firmly ban him to the shade at every outdoor activity.

Eddie is just quietly seething, alabaster skin safe and so far away from the inviting pool full of all his friends and partner. jealous and irritated and grumpy as fuck behind dark sunglasses. hair all frizzy from the humidity <3

but then you come over to lay next to him on the shaded blanket and suddenly his mood has improved tenfold. you’re all cool as you press into his side, water dripping from your hair — down the slope of your neck — in between your swimsuit top — and Eddie is like 👀🕶️ behind his glasses. like hm maybe i will stay under this stupid umbrella for a bit. with you <3

[sea-lanterns]

Seeing the last few asks regarding Dehya in the Empress AU, it got me thinking. So, obviously the other Courtesans are jelly about this outsider butting into to their circle and getting a wee bit too chummy with their Empress. Now, imagine. Beidou (and I'd like to say Shenhe, though idk if- even in the context of this AU- it'd be in character for her) start having a sort of contest with Dehya, trying to one-up her in displays of strength. Meanwhile the Empress is just appreciating the show (maybe even being being swept by the herculean woman, for better or worse) trying not to die from being so flustered (among a particular other emotion, if you catch my drift) from the strong duo (or trio, if Shenhe were to partake) so openly, and competetively vying for her affections.

A competition where buff women try to one up each other by proving their strength to the empress? Oh, anon. You know me so well ;)

sfw under the cut—————————

First off, Beidou was definitely the one to initiate the competition. She was getting jealous at the way Dehya was just so casually grabbing her empress and carrying them around like they were nothing. That was her job. (And Shenhe’s too sometimes) so why was this outsider suddenly stealing their job?

In terms of getting Dehya to agree to such a competition, Beidou had to get Shenhe on board to make it seem like she wasn’t the only one being petty.

“You don’t like Dehya, right?”

“I don’t have any opinions on her.”

Beidou would facepalm and try to make Shenhe jealous to join the competition.

“I saw Dehya carrying the empress.”

“Okay.”

“She was getting pretty handsy with them too.”

“Mhm.”

Beidou sighed and finally thought of an idea.

“You know, if Dehya joined the harem, she might become one of their bodyguards. Meaning you won’t get as much alone time with the empress anymore.”

Silence.

“Shenhe?”

Okay, now Shenhe was on board. The two of them walking up to Dehya and declaring a competition to see who was the strongest and fit for the empress’ side. Dehya looked confused, but agreed nevertheless to the competition as it was just another excuse to flex in front of the empress.

When the competition starts it’s your typical Olympic style lineup where each event would have a different test of physical endurance. The empress and their harem would all gather outside to watch in the shade as Dehya, Beidou and Shenhe all competed for your heart.

Truth be told, some of the courtesans in your harem thought it was ridiculous. Keqing especially as she just rolled her eyes and sat by your side with her arms around your waist.

“Are you brutes done yet?” Keqing would yell, watching as Dehya and Beidou engaged in an intense arm wrestling match while Shenhe quietly waited for her turn. “The empress shouldn’t be out in the sun for too long. We didn’t bring sunblock…”

As everyone was caught up in the hijinks of the competition however, you couldn’t help but admire the three buff women all flexing and showing off their strength in ways that made you swoon. Your favorite part of the competition had to be the swimming part if you were being honest. The way your courtesans + Dehya were in the water wearing minimal clothing with water dripping down their abs was just too hot for you to look away.

“Hey empress! Like what you see?” Dehya would chuckle from the water, letting the water droplets slide down her body before Beidou tackled her in the water.

“Weak! I’ve had my muscles since the time I could barely walk!” Beidou would counter back, Ningguang groaning at how the competition quickly escalated into a fight, as Shenhe innocently doggy paddled in the background of the pool. (Poor Shenhe was the only one actually following the rules)

“My empress, shouldn’t we stop this?” Ningguang would ask, quickly shielding you with her parasol as splashes of water almost soaked through your clothes.

“No, let them be,” you smiled as you watched them tussle with each other in the pool. Unable to admit that the real reason you were letting this continue, was so that you could watch the muscular women pine for your affections. “Let’s give them another hour.”

By the end of the competitions, you had Beidou and Dehya tired out with Shenhe as the reigning champion from the competitions. Not only did she follow the rules, she absolutely demolished the two with her strength due to her intense training with the adepti.

“How…How did she…” Dehya looked stunned as the elegant woman simply strutted over to you to claim her prize.

“Yay, Shenhe you did it!” You cheered, waving your arms in the air. “I’m so proud of you— oof!”

She didn’t say a word as she hoisted you up in her arms and started walking away. Off to have some alone time with you as she wanted nothing more than to have you all to herself…

[greedyhoneyz]

Paradise Kiss

.ೃ࿔*:･pairing: benjamin pavard x reader

.ೃ࿔*:･synopsis: summer fun with the girl of his dreams.

.ೃ࿔*:･cw: fluff. brief slapping.

.ೃ࿔*:･authors note: used google translate. some of the translations have me like 🥴 so please don’t drag me im trying. i seriously need to get better at describing kissing and romance in itself. didnt proofread.

Underneath the sweltering sun, primrose sand stretched out alongside the shore. It gleamed golden as the sea-blue tide glistened and twinkled along waves rolling in and out in rhythm as steady as a thumping heart.

The beach had welcomed Benjamin and (name) a day before when the sand was damp and the sea had churned to become a deep inky blue. However, as the evening sun settled beneath the horizon, welcoming night, the early morning sun brought a day of sunlight and hot spells. The beach, once desolate, invited its guests and residents along the coast to its clear waters and granular land.

The sand looked clean like sugar spread out for miles as it squished between Benjamin’s and (name’s) toes. Hand in hand, the couple trudged along the beach, a cluster of their belongings hooked underneath Benjamin’s arm.

The warm air was moist and humid; waves crashed quietly against the shore, dampening the beach surface with artefacts of sea shells– the beach house had long vanished into the distance.

It was clear outside and not a cloud lingered in the sky.

Music, loud chatter, the shrieking screams of children playing in the ocean, and the squalls of seagulls hovered above lurked in the air as (name) and Benjamin entered the swarm.

The essence of human life brightened the beach; people accustomed themselves to the toasty sand beneath their feet and the spirited ocean or rested beneath beach parasols and chairs, away from the scorching sun.

Benjamin drew his foot across the sand, scoring a line, and wrestled with the parasol perched into the sand. He decorated their claimed space with beach towels and the rest of their belongings whilst (name) watched, a portable fan held to her face.

“Voila!” Benjamin exclaimed, producing their newly decorated seats. He helped (name) to the floor, beneath the shade and settled beside her. 

He studied her quietly, his eyes closely daring to her hands and the restful expression worn across her face as she forced her fan into his hand. “Tenez ça.” (Hold this.)

Rummaging through her beach bag, (name) fiddled through her belongings, pooling whatever she caught into her lap. 

She turned to Benjamin with a smile and flapped her fingers, urging him closer. 

He leaned in, squeezing his eyes shut as her full lips pulled together to form a pucker. He shuddered at the gentle wind that puffed out through her nostrils, bristling against the hairs on the top of his lip. He smiled meekly, his lips trembled, and slowly brought his forehead to hers.

They settled into a bubble of silence, the beach sounds muted beneath the gentle winds as (name) lathered her hands together, a mischievous smirk quirked at the corners of her mouth.

She caught Benjamin by surprise as her hand rose to blemish his cheek, smearing him with sunscreen. The force she exerted was so strong, it sent his head flying, along with splatters of white.

(name) burst into a fit of giggles, hobbling onto her knees. She hovered above Benjamin who lay awestruck on his beach towel, grinning maniacally, and crept her hands to his face. “Vous avez oublié de mettre de la crème solaire sur votre visage.” (You forgot to put sunscreen on your face.)

Dampening her hands, (name) worked her fingers along his face as Benjamin lay still beneath her, a hand on his swollen cheek. 

His awestruck gaze bored into her face whilst her fingers gently motioned across his forehead and chin. 

“Ah, c'est très bien.” (This is nice) Benjamin mewled quietly. He shut his eyes and blew a blissful breath between his lips. 

“It’s nice for you,” (name) retorted sharply, dropping her hands. She hobbled away from Benjamin, laying back on her beach towel, and threw her sunscreen to him. “My turn.”

Slowly opening an eyelid, Benjamin turned his gaze to (name) as she settled herself beneath their beach umbrella. She laid on her stomach, crossed her arms and rested her chin on her hands, waiting. 

Benjamin sat up leisurely and picked up the bottle, beginning to quietly lather his hands. 

Perched on his knees, his figure casting a dark shadow over (name) as he brought his hands down to her back. Benjamin smoothed his hands across her skin, sculpting the lotion into her curves and along her thighs. 

“Je suis bon pour ça, n'est-ce pas?” (I’m good at this, aren’t I?) Benjamin mused as (name) rolled onto her back. He rubbed her stomach tenderly and ran his palms up along her collarbones and neck.

“Oui, tu as des mains douces.” (Yes, you have gentle hands.) (name) hummed, shaking her head. She flashed a smile at Benjamin and blew a relief breath whilst he worked down her figure. He rubbed along her legs, applying extra care to her thighs before wiping his hands clean on his swim trunks.

Plopping flat beside (name), Benjamin closed his eyes, tucking his arms behind his head, and tuned to the heartful chatter and screams around him. Beneath the dark, shadow cast by their pergola, stillness came as the wind suddenly quelled, and a torrid wave of heat pervaded the shore.

Benjamin peeled his eyelids open, briefly glimpsing at the pergola above him and quickly stood to his feet. He fixed his swim trunks and gently called to (name) as she scrolled through her phone. “Ma douce,” (My sweet,) He cooed, his foot lightly pushing her beach bag aside. “Je vais nager, viens avec moi.” (I’m going to swim, come with me.)

“No. I want to stay here.” (name) cried playfully. 

“Porqoui?” Benjamin frowned. He shifted his weight on his left leg and propped his hands on his waist, furrowing his brows together. 

(name) shrugged, setting her phone on her chest. “Il fait trop chaud pour bouger.” (It's too hot to move.)

“Donc? L’eau va vous rafraîchir.” (So? The water will cool you down.)

“Help me up then.” (name) held her arms up and nodded for Benjamin to come closer. He shuffled towards her, crouched to his knees and curled his arms beneath her armpits, hoisting her up onto her feet. 

“Thanks.” (name) muffled. She placed a kiss on the corner of Benjamin’s lips and fixed her bikini bottoms. 

Hand in hand, both Benjamin and (name) sauntered through the golden grains of sand towards the ocean. The small crystals of sand that cushioned their toes, lay damp beneath the white foamed waves that gently broke at the shoreline. 

The ocean was like a gentle blanket of brochure-blue, its horizon edged with a golden tint as it stretched along the horizon, and mingled with the silk sky.

Dipping into the ocean, Benjamin swam thoroughly through the water with (name) tightly hooked to his chest. He submerged deeper and deeper as the ocean reflected an emerald green and gawked in awe as (name) broke free. She glided forward, kicking her feet, and speedily twirled to Benjamin. She waved at him and managed to express a cheeky grin beneath her puff cheeks before swimming off to the abyss. 

Benjamin tailed after her, crawling through the abyss as (name) twirled and spun around her. She toyed with him, swimming below him, tugging at his legs before he snagged her in a smooth attempt, and luged them both to the surface. Breaking through the rollers of gem-blue waves, the two fought for grasps of air. 

Benjamin exhaled heavily and whipped his hands through his drenched locks as (name) reclined herself in her surroundings. He gaped at her and wadded towards him, her swiftful movements caught her attention. 

She jeered her head to him and beamed from ear to ear at the awe-struck look in his eyes. 

Not a word was muttered as Benjamin held his hands to her face, and slowly leaned in. His nose bristled against hers, their foreheads lightly tapped each other as his lips moved to take claim. He kissed her tenderly, his hands cupping the sides of her face and moaned euphorically as she shifted her lips in battle with him, luring him closer.

The beach horizon was a hook of gold that twinkled behind the gentle ripples of the ocean and stood muffed beneath the song of the waves. It glistened at a distance and watched fleetingly as both Benjamin and (name) floated away from the shore, hazed by their love and compassion.

[marzipanandminutiae]

You probably meant artificial tans, but tanning is not the opposite of leaving your natural skin tone be

I don't particularly sunbathe, but I do live in a Mediterranean country. Even with SPF 50+ I start tanning in late april and lose my tan in approximately october. Unless I should not go out or near a window for half of the year, I cannot just leave my "natural" skintone be

Your winter skin tone is your only natural skin tone, IMO. And people should take steps to prevent it from changing- sunscreen with 2-hour reapplications (the intended use), parasols, hats, sun-protective clothing, etc. Even though they often went too far and did it for the wrong reasons- racism, colorism, classism, etc -our ancestors were unfortunately right about needing to take sun protection more seriously. Sometimes it's not just leaving it be, no- sometimes you have to proactively work to protect it. like brushing your teeth is not just leaving them be, but it's still your teeth's natural, healthy state

Like I said, tanning is literally skin damage. It's your skin producing more melanin to try and protect itself from the sun- which means the sun is causing DNA injury. (source) If it happens every year that doesn't make it any less harmful. I have very light-skinned friends in Australia who are able to avoid tanning, so it's clearly not impossible.

also dark-skinned people still need sun protection- melanoma is less likely to be caught early on dark skin, partially due to racist teaching practices among dermatologists, so PoC often have worse outcomes and higher mortality rates from it

My mother just had to have basal cell carcinoma removed from her upper lip. There was a huge hole in her face- the surgery to remove it, Mohs, involves cutting off pieces of tissue, testing them, and repeating until the test comes out clean. It takes hours and you're only under local anesthesia. You're awake the whole time and sometimes the doctor shows you what it looks like before they close the wound. Luckily she was able to get reconstructive surgery, but she's now insecure because her lip looks different- not bad, and she realizes that, but it's not the version of herself she was used to for 70 years. She now hates looking in mirrors. And this is the best-case scenario because she's. You know. Not Dead.

She hasn't tanned on purpose since she was in her early 20s (occasionally laid out by her parents' pool). She used sunscreen when I was growing up. But she didn't reapply after putting it on once, or employ any other form of sun protection. This isn't even her first brush with skin cancer; just the first on her face that required reconstruction.

No method is foolproof; I have freckles on parts of my body that never see the sun, and though they look benign, things can still happen. And of course you should go outside and enjoy the outdoors as much as you like, with appropriate precautions; I'm not trying to stress anyone out. you don't have to wear those full-face UV masks or anything

But. I don't know. I take this very seriously because I do NOT want to go through what my mother- and her mother before her, actually -went through. It seems like all the evidence shows that any amount of skin darkening from your winter shade, caused by UV light, is dangerous. The precautions seem so easy and minor to me compared to the risk that I just don't understand why anyone wouldn't take them- besides maybe sensory issues, and there are ways around even that

(personally I wear SPF 50 on all exposed skin and reapply every two hours or when I'm about to go back outside for longer than like 10 minutes, if I've been indoors all day. I also use a parasol when the sunlight is strong, plus sunglasses, a long skirt, and long sleeves in a natural-fiber fabric up to like 85 degrees Fahrenheit. then again, I also just don't LIKE being outside in the sun very much- I love going for long walks and being outdoors if it's overcast and/or cold, but warm sunny days are not my thing. and my clothing style is Victorian GothicTM, so it's easy to adapt for sun protection. YMMV)

(and no, I am not Vitamin D deficient that I'm aware of)

[beautflstranger]

Now that I have found you In the cool fire of your evening smile For the shade of your parasol And your love flows through me

Though I drink at your pool I burn for you I burn for

You and I are lovers When night time folds around our bed In peace we sleep entwined And your love flows through me

Though an ocean soothes my head I burn for you I burn for you

Stars will fall from dark skies As ancient rocks are turning Quiet fills the room And your love flows through me

Though I lie here so still I burn for you I burn for you - Sting

( the amazing Omar Hakim on drums. )

[totromanticfool]

It's you and me this summer

Hcs for the nxx boys going on holiday with you (order: Luk - Marius - Vyn - Artem) maybe a bit ooc? (its been a while) Enjoy!

Luke

If you travel by plane, he will offer his shoulder for you to sleep on. He will wake you for snack time though!

If you travel by car, you will switch with driving, and he will have a full playlist with music to keep you both in vacation spirits.

Cannonballs in the pool every single time, then shakes out his hair like a really cute dog. (a golden retriever prob)

Probably burns easily, you will have to remind him about sunblock.

Makes you join karaoke with him out of the blue.

Will take you to little local places to eat, might get a food poisoning from it, but it will be worth it, to see his beautiful genuine smile.

Marius.

First class travel everywhere. Marius is used to it, so you should, too.

By car, he hires someone to drive, so you can both relax closely together in the back seat

Splashes you with water when you try to ease into the pool.

If you are both in a good mood, he will pick you up and throw you in the pool. Has you piggyback ride him in the pool as well, to keep you close.

Probably has staff around him (and you!) For all your needs. Miss wants a drink? It's there within a second. Some shade? Parasol building on the spot.

But the one thing Marius will do himself is apply your sunblock.

He might write something like ♡Marius on your back, so it will be visible agianst te rest of the colored skin.

Vyn

Traveling by plane? He picked out a few books you both can read, while you can choose the music.

By car? He drives. He wants you to relax as much as possible.

He's it the pool on a big floaty with a cup holder. Has a cocktail in it and maybe paid off a waiter to refill it every time he puts the empty glass in the air. (Fight me for this one! I see him as a diva on vacation, canon in chibi lounge 'member?)

Offers to help put on sunblock just to be able to touch your skin.

If there is a wine trip, you will take it. Vyn will have all the knowledge on it and tells you about it with that sparkle in his eyes.

Artem

Traveling by plane, first class. It is expensive but he wants you to relax to the fullest. Even he will close his eyes for a nap.

By car? He drives. He doesn't want you to worry and relax.

Does laps in the pool early in the morning.

Reminds you every few hours to apply sunblock. If you ask him to help, he will turn red, but do it, with a very serious face.

He will do his research before the trip. Knows all the food spots and cultural trips are already planned (only if you want to)

Will act like your personal butler. He will not relax until you are.

You will have to remind him to sit down and enjoy the view every once in a while. (You're his view, obviously)

If you ask him what he really wants to do, he will tell you he wants to visit that super romantic couples spot. (All the while sporting his signature red ears and cheeks)

This has been sitting in my drafts for a while, but i never had the feeling it was 'done' now i know i cant put more in it for now, it was time for me to post it.

until the next drabble!

Love, Hann ❤

[theroseceleste]

Mafia Miguel - Part 1

This is a WIP story. I do have an idea where it'll go, but I would love suggestions or ideas on what you think might happen next. Perhaps it could be a community lead story?

Buy me a coffee! (And gain access to my discord)

Contains : Female reader, very brief mention of sex, threat of violence, mention of death.

Word count - 2647

Hope you enjoy chapter 1!

For the other parts, click below.

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

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Brilliant sunshine beats down over the grand city of Nueva York. The month is June and the weather is perfect. The beautiful tall white structures of this futuristic skyline reflect the solar rays, like large white beacons beaming up from the ground.

Nestled amongst a collection of high-rise buildings, is a large penthouse. A home to a powerful man, not in politics, but in the criminal world.

It is the morning and the man in question sits quietly on the patio of his penthouse. The gentle sounds of the swimming pool lapping against the edges fills the air as a cool breeze ruffles his dark brown hair. Despite it being early, he’s already dressed in a long sleeve shirt rolled up to his elbows, waistcoat and suit trousers. He reads the news on a tablet under the shade of a parasol, his expression a wicked grin.

“The mega corporation Alchemax has released a statement reporting several employees have disappeared over the last few weeks.

They claim it began with scientists not coming in for work and now employees further up the hierarchy are also reported to be missing.

We spoke to Mrs Garcia, the wife of a missing employee from Alchemax…”

His peace and quiet is interrupted by a young girl's voice.

“Papa!” calls the girl. “Good morning papa.” The sound of the patio door sliding shut indicates she is coming out to see him.

He turns to greet her and places the tablet on the glass table.

“Buenos dias, mija,”(Good morning darling) he says softly to his daughter as his strong arms envelopes her in a cuddle.

She pulls away from her father’s embrace and puts on her puppy-dog expression with her big brown eyes, looking directly into his.

“Papa, can you come with me to school this morning? she asks sweetly.

Her father sighs. He has a busy day ahead of him.

“Mija-” he begins to protest.

“It’s you know what day and I want to spend some time with you,” she interjects, maintaining that sweet pleading face.

The man frowns. Today marks the fifth anniversary of his wife’s death. Five years his daughter, Gabriella, has been without a mother.

His daughter is the apple of his eye and when she pulls a face like that, he can’t refuse her - especially on a day like today. Gabriella will be ten years old in a few months but she seems so grown up already. He’s thankful she doesn’t abuse her power over him too much as he doesn’t want to spoil her more than he usually does.

“Alright mija, okay. Go get your bag and we’ll stop by the cafe and grab some muffins before school. Sound good?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

Her face lights up with excitement, flashing a brilliant, white toothy smile.

“Si, papi!” she replies excitedly and runs back inside to go get her things.

***

The father and daughter duo sit together in a small black limo, at the back of a short line of the same coloured cars - all of which belong to him. They drive in convoy to the school.

He sits quietly, staring out of the window after eating the sweet blueberry muffin he had bought from the cafe he’s a regular at. Gabriella is taking her time eating hers, savouring every delicious mouthful.

“Papa…” she breaks the silence as the limo gently turns a corner.

“Si, mija?” he responds, preparing himself for another request or strange question. He can tell by the sound of her voice she is about to ask something unusual.

Gabriella swallows another mouthful of her muffin as a crumb or two tumbles down her top.

“Do you think you’ll marry again?”

Yep, there it is… He turns his head to look at his daughter.

“I’m too busy to look for a new wife,” he begins. “Besides, I want to spend my rare free time with you,” he continues as he gently nudges his fist against her shoulder making her giggle.

“I know papa, but I want you to be happy,” she finally replies before taking her final mouthful of her delicious treat.

Her father tilts his head at her response, his eyebrow raised.

“I am happy.”

Gabriella shakes her head gently as if she doesn’t believe him.

“No, you’re not papa…”

His daughter is right, but he would never admit that to her. He didn’t want her to worry, but it seems she already is. The man’s heart melts at her concern for his happiness. The last five years had been a blur. Losing his wife was a heavy loss for both he and Gabriella. After at least a year of mourning and processing her sudden, untimely death, he started to put his plan for revenge in motion.

Since his wife’s passing he did get involved with other women when he felt ready; but they were only for sexual relief and never considered them as a potential partner. He lost interest in them when they tried to use him for his money.

The man’s gaze rests on his daughter. His hand idly plays with her ponytail, wrapping the ends of her soft dark brown hair around his fingers.

“I’ll consider it mija,” he pauses as he ponders. “I need to find someone first, someone worthwhile - pretty hard in my line of work.”

The convoy of black cars pull up outside Gabriella’s school. The man gently grabs his daughter’s hand before she leaves the car, causing her to look back at him.

“Have a good day at school mija,” he says as he leans forwards and kisses her forehead. “You got your necklace?”

Gabriella pats her shirt, something lay underneath it against her chest and she nods with a smile.

He returns her smile and pats her shoulder.

“Good girl, you know what to do… I just hope it’s never necessary,” he replies as he takes her bag and hands it to her.

Through the tinted windows, he watches his daughter be escorted into the school building. Her question repeats in his mind and a frown grows across his lips. She must be lonely and in need of a mother figure back in her life. Has he been too engrossed in his plan for revenge? Perhaps he’s lost sight of the more important things in life? But he had made so much progress, he couldn’t just drop it and leave things be now. Leaning back in his car seat, he sighs and closes his eyes.

The window separating himself and the chauffeur opens up, disturbing his deep thought.

“Where to, Mr. O’Hara?” the driver asks, looking over his shoulder into the back of the limo.

The look of a doting father leaves his face, and out comes the mask of the stern and dangerous mafia boss. A dark, dangerous expression on his face.

“The Web,” he replies as he watches his daughter’s escort return to the convoy of cars.

He is shut off from the chauffeur once more and the collection of cars start to roll forward. The Web is his underground base of operations, a place where people who cross him are locked away, a place where those missing Alchemax employees await their fate. He pulls out his phone and begins to type a message to a contact named Lyla.

“Get them ready,” his thumbs type out on the screen.

***

You are walking down the sidewalk, several school buses pass you during the rush hour traffic. Carrying a coffee in a large cup you’re heading back to your car. A message from your employer you had received on your phone, told you to hang around outside the school and look for a convoy of black cars, without any explanation. After the bright yellow school buses clear, a squad of cars matching that description drives past your parked vehicle. The limo catches your eye most of all, however the tinted windows didn’t allow you to see who is inside.

Wrenching your door open, you slide in and place your coffee cup in the holder between the front seats. Your seatbelt clicks as it fastens after you hastily pull it across you. Starting the car, you pull out of your parking space and follow the convoy several vehicles behind to keep a healthy distance.

Pulling up somewhere quiet in the city, you watch the black cars snake their way around another corner, slowing to a stop. You don’t want to be seen so you hang back, in the shadows between the high rise buildings. Getting out of your car, you take in your surroundings as you creep closer to the convoy you were following. It seems to be a regular business area of the city. Many multistory buildings are full of people working away. Cafes lined the street, serving people their morning coffee before starting their regular nine to five jobs.

Before ducking behind a wall, you spot a man stepping out of the limo. His long jacket drapes over his shoulders as he strides into an alley, followed by men from the other cars in the convoy.

Sliding your phone out of your pocket, you begin snapping away, taking pictures of the man leading the small group of sharply dressed people who came out of the convoy of cars. Beeps from a number pad rang out as this stern looking man punched in a code. A door clicks open and the group disappears inside.

***

Stepping into the building from the alley, Mr. O’Hara is met with a lift with doors on opposite sides. The elevator sinks down into the ground once everyone is in and the door is closed. A ding pierces the silence inside the lift and the sliding doors draw open.

A well dressed, strawberry blond woman stands at the other side of the doors, waiting to greet her boss. She carries a tablet displaying his schedule for the day. As Mr. O’Hara emerges from the lift, she walks alongside him, keeping up with his large strides.

“Morning Miguel,” she greets him with a light and airy voice.

“Morning Lyla,” he starts, “are they ready to talk?” His voice is a low growl and his expression full of determination.

Lyla chortles as she looks at her tablet. Her footsteps are faster than his as she is over a foot shorter than him.

“They may need a little convincing,” she replies with a grin.

As Miguel continues to walk along a dark corridor, he holds his hand out as he passes another member of his gang. Tall, incredibly slim, dressed in a suit with big, black dreadlocked hair, the man silently hands Miguel a baseball bat and walks after him.

“One of them will squeal, I’m sure,” Mr. O’Hara says as he casually taps the bulbous end of the bat against his palm, an evil smirk spreads across his face.

Down a few flights of stairs, deeper underground, Miguel approaches a heavy door and punches another code into a number pad. The sound of a heavy bolt sliding away from the door means he can open it.

“Hobie, join me inside, Lyla, reschedule my morning appointments, I might be a while,” he ordered.

Four men sat on wooden chairs with their hands tied behind their backs in a wide empty room. There is one large cabinet to the right but it is locked shut, keeping its several nasty implements used to help encourage people to start talking.

All four captives look up at the two new people entering the room, with tired eyes and fed up expressions. Some have been there longer than others.

“Which one of you miserable lot is Mr. Garcia?” The taller of the two sharply dressed men asked.

Miguel watches carefully to see which one responds to his name. He sees a scientist wearing a grubby lab coat gulp hard as he is preparing to speak. Approaching the shaking man, he points the end of the baseball bat right into the captive man’s face.

“You?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

Mr. Garcia nods nervously and winces at how close the bat is to his visage.

Lowering the potential lethal weapon he points the end to the floor and rests his weight on the handle, leaning over it and peering into the scientist’s eyes.

“Please excuse me for not visiting sooner, I’ve been a busy man gathering information,” Miguel begins. “It appears that I’ve hit a snag on something and I’m in need of assistance, Mr. Garcia.”

The lab technician blinks in anticipation, his breath faltering at the intense stare burning into his retinas.

“Do you think you’re going to cooperate today?” the mafia boss asks with a smug smirk growing across his face.

“I- I’ll do the best I can, sir.” Mr. Garcia stutters in fear.

Remaining in position, leaning his weight on the handle of the baseball bat, he begins his questions.

“I need a name. The name of the man who contracted your team to do some work five years ago. Ring any bells, Mr. Garcia?” the towering man asks with a raised eyebrow.

A tired, shaky sigh left the captive’s lips. He dips his head low before replying. 

“I signed a contract to not speak a word of what we worked on or divulge any information about who hired us - I’m sorry…”

Miguel growls impatiently and begins to slowly circle the lab technician tied to his chair.

“My darling wife worked in your team, remember her?” he asks, resting the baseball bat on his shoulder. Fierce eyes watching intently at the quivering scientist. “She too signed that contract and took the secret of the man responsible to her grave. Do you want the same fate, Mr Garcia?”

“Sir, my job and life will be in danger if I tell y- ah!” The scientist yelps when Miguel loses his patience and strikes the back left wooden chair leg with the baseball bat, knocking it clean off; collapsing the chair backwards. Mr. Garcia fell painfully in a heap, his tied arms stuck underneath him and the back of his chair.

“You’re in danger now!” the mafia boss yells angrily as he completes his slow circle, watching a groaning Mr. Garcia like a hawk.

“Next thing I hit will be your leg, making sure to break your femur. Perhaps you should reconsider where your loyalties lie, nerd.” He crouches down next to a shaking and whimpering mess.

“I know you have a wife, and she’s very worried about you-” Miguel is interrupted by the scientist’s sudden outburst.

“Please! Don’t- don’t touch her!” Mr. Garcia pleads desperately, pulling at his restraints.

A wicked grin spreads across the mafia boss’s face and chuckles darkly.

“Then I suggest you start talking…” he growls, standing up and playfully tapping the bat against his palm again.

“Kingpin! His name is Kingpin!” the lab technician splutters urgently.

The smirk on Miguel’s lips grows wider and teasingly rests the baseball bat on Mr. Garcia’s top half of his leg.

“What about his actual name?”

A fresh, desperate whimper erupts from the captive man’s lips.

“I don’t know! I swear! I promise I would tell you if I knew!”

With a nod, Miguel pulls the bat away. He believes Mr. Garcia. If he was Kingpin doing something shady, he’d use an alias too.

“Hobie, take this man, do what we usually do with the lucky ones, and then make sure he and his wife are under my protection,” the mafia boss orders, tapping the bat against his palm once more as he paces the room.

The slim gang member steps forward and hoists the shaking scientist to his feet. With a silent nod to his boss, he escorts a whimpering Mr. Garcia out of the room.

“Now, what part of all three of you shall I send to Kingpin in the mail?”

The solid door closes behind Hobie and Mr. Garcia, dampening the screams coming from inside.

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Part 2

Buy me a coffee! (And gain access to my discord)

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[tailsbeth-writes]

Love the summer theme!

Here’s my pick: 🏊🏻‍♂️ Swimming in the pool and RWRB

Have a great Friday!

So you might not have swimming but you do get family holiday vibes! I'm honestly so tempted to write a fic about the whole holiday but my WIP list is currently screaming at me 🥲 Read on Ao3 here!

‘Hazza, you're required in the pool!’ Percy calls out over the splashing and laughing. Henry is incredibly content on his sun lounger, the parasol gives him and Martha enough shade to read their books while his feet get a bit of the sun. He doesn't even look up from his beloved copy of Emma (June and him may have watched Clueless on the plane).

‘What could possibly be so important, Percy?’

‘Don’t worry about it, baby. You keep reading.’ Alex replies before he hears an evil laugh which is distinctly Nora's. He’s finally curious enough to sit up and see what the fuss is about. Their pool has a net in between for volleyball and it appears to have turned into a UK Vs USA match. Henry now understands the predicament, he lets out a sigh and is looking around for his bookmark when he hears footsteps along the tile and a sudden splash.

‘You’re our hero Pip!’ Bea cheers.

Henry looks to Martha whose mouth is hanging open and back to the pool where the two teams are huddling to make game plans. Or he wouldn't be surprised if team USA are in a similar state of bewilderment as him and making sure they all just saw Philip jump in the pool.

‘You’re going down!’ June threatens as they start the game, in a tone that sounds far less playful than it should. Henry gets mildly distracted when Alex jumps out to make a hit, his abs practically sparkling with sunlight and pool water.

‘Careful dear, you're drooling.’ Martha nudges him with her elbow, giving him a playful grin. Henry doesn't even blush, he will admire his outrageously gorgeous husband all he likes.

He takes it all in, his family, their family enjoying a holiday together. Catherine comes out with a tray of bellinis for them and sits on the end of Henry's sunbed. She laughs when she spots Philip in the pool, cheering at the top of his lungs as they get a point. Catherine holds up her drink to Henry's to cheers, their glasses clink and they turn to Martha who has a glass in her hand but her eyes firmly on Philip in the pool. Henry clears his throat loudly, Martha reanimates when she sees Henry and Catherine watching her.

‘What was that about drooling?’ He teases. She finally clinks her glass, a blush blossoming on her freckled cheeks.