#you put it in a glass bottle and you let it into the sea

[revasserium]

love bites

kenma, tsukki, kageyama, hinata; 2,025 words; fluff, slightly suggestive, mentions of hickies, no "y/n", fem!reader, whiney!kageyama, dom!hinata, tsukki being... tsukki, post timeskip!characters

summary: these hickeys like the remnants of our love, footsteps on the sea-soaked sand, a line of demarcation -- here is where our story begins.

a/n: i just rly wanted to write about hq! babes and hickies...

kenma.

the first time it happens, it’s a mistake — a brief moment of vindictiveness manifest in the way he whines and nuzzles into your neck before opening his mouth and sinking his teeth into your skin. when you gasp, your head tipping back, kenma pauses, pulling back, his mind already cataloging this very interesting new piece of information for later use, but his eyes have yet to catch up — his body has yet to catch up with the sight of you, cheeks pink, lips parted, eyes slightly glazed over as you stare ruefully up at him, a hand coming up to press over your mouth as you frown.

“w-what was that for?”

kenma hums, sitting back with a pout, “you were the one being unfair.”

you scowl, “how was i being unfair? you lost the game fair and square — the stakes were loser does the dishes.”

kenma sniffs, his nose crinkling at the thought, “but we have a dishwasher — it’s literally in the name —”

“but the nice wine glasses can’t be put through the dishwasher!”

you push yourself up onto your elbows even as kenma slumps back on the sofa, groaning loudly. still, he lets his head slump to one side to stare at the rapidly darkening patch of skin at the junction of your neck and shoulders. there’s something that feels dangerously like desire calcifying in the pit of his stomach and he weighs the pros and cons of leaning forward to give you another good bite.

really, dinner was great, dessert was better but — this.

suddenly, he understands what his teammates had always meant when they’d said they could keep on eating forever, even when their stomachs were full to bursting, even when they thought they’d be ill.

“stupid wine glasses…” he murmurs, leaning forward to prop his chin on your shoulder. you laugh, a soft, breathy thing as you reach out to tug a strand of hair from his low, messy bun.

“but the wine was good, no?”

kenma hums, letting his head loll back and forth, his eyes flickering down once more to the round ring of red now rising against your skin. he allows himself a tiny grin, leaning forward to press a kiss over the tender flesh. he makes note of the way you gasp, soft and expectant, the way your body seems to tense and then go laxed beneath his hands.

“yeah…” he whispers, smirking as he sinks delicate fingers into your hair, gently shifting your head to one side to allow him more access, “guess it was good…”

he presses another kiss to your neck, just slightly below the reddening hickey.

“g-guess? that was — a-an expensive bottle…”

“hmmm…” kenma trails his lips down over your shoulder, tugging lightly at your shirt, the wide collar falling away easily. when he finds yet another patch of unmarred skin, grazing his teeth over it, he feels the way you reach up to fist your fingers in his hair.

“’zume… don’t think you can get out of doing the dishes like this…”

kenma laughs, letting his breath puff out against your skin seconds before he opens his mouth and takes another soft bite. he doesn’t miss the way you whimper this time, doesn’t mistake the hitch in your breath for something like surprise when he knows better — and he knows you best of all.

“not trying to get out of doing it… just… we never specified when the loser has to do the dishes so…” he licks his lips, glancing up at you with a bright, devilish flicker behind his eyes, “i’m just taking my time with the meal. nothing wrong with that, right?”

tsukki.

it is a normal thing, for you to wake up in the morning and find remnants of the night before scattered across your skin like sand dollars littered upon a stretch of beloved beach. and tsukishima is never apologetic — ever.

if anything, he looks upon his work with pride, smirking as you tug at the collar of your shirt, tutting.

“tsukki… i told you not to bite so hard…”

“hmm… sorry, i must’ve forgotten,” he props a cheek on his hand, peering at you over his glasses, his tone the farthest thing from apologetic, “heat of the moment and all.”

you shoot him a reproachful look in the mirror and watch as his grin widens ever so slightly.

“the girls are the museum are gonna have a field day with this.”

tsukishima shrugs, slumping back into the bed with a loud, long sigh.

“dunno why girls have such a weird fixation on other people’s boyfriends. ‘s not like it’s any of their business.”

you tug listlessly at the collar of your button up shirt, resigned to the fact that you’ll never be able to hide the marks properly as you heave another sigh.

“it’s just how we communicate — it’s like… how guys sometimes just need to like… punch it out — or whatever.”

“or whatever?” tsukishima almost chortles, rolling over onto his stomach again. your schedules at the museum only overlap 2 days a week, and the rest of the days, either he’s off or you are. it’s a miracle the pair of you were able to meet in the first place, let alone hit it off like you did.

“yeah. i don’t know how guys communicate,” you say, even as tsukishima swings out of bed to come up behind you, looping his arms around your middle.

“we… don’t, really,” he admits, in a customary deadpan, propping his chin on the top of your head with obscene ease. you frown up at him, tilting your head back till it hits the middle of his chest.

“you’re gonna make me late again.”

“so?”

“so — unless you want me to get fired —”

“they’re not gonna fire you. you’re too good at… cataloging maps, or whatever it is you guys do in the cartography department.”

tsukishima spins you around his arms, pressing you lightly back against the mirror. he considers you for a moment, with eyes just sharp enough to pass for academic interest, but you see the darkness misting its depths, the pressure in his fingertips as he leans in to seal his lips over yours in a kiss that could only be called searing.

you break away gasping, only to feel his lips trail fire down your neck seconds before —

“t-tsukki — !”

he pulls back with a satisfied smirk; you can feel yet another bruise blooming along your skin.

“there. one more thing for you and your girlfriends to bond over, hm?”

kageyama.

it is a deliberate thing, the first time. but kageyama remembers the strange gravity, the tug just behind his navel, the persistent itch of curiosity as he leans forward to sink his teeth into your skin.

he likes the way you hiss, the way you go soft in his arms, the pair of you already a pile of tangled limbs on the massive sectional in the living room, the lights dimmed, half a bottle of red wine yet un-drunk on the coffee table.

“tobio… what —”

he hums, burying his face in your shoulder, fingers digging into your sides.

“… something i wanted to try…”

“hm?” you gently card your fingers through his hair, quirking your head to one side.

“it’s just —” he pulls back, a deep blush prickling his cheeks as he looks anywhere but at you, “something… i’ve wanted to try. for — a while,” he admits, looking shockingly small for a internationally renowned volleyball player, hunched over on the couch like this, his lips stained dark with wine.

you giggle, leaning up to tilt his chin back towards yours.

“sure. you can try whatever you want.”

you lay back, stretching out beneath him, pliant and willing, and kageyama goes still for a solid four seconds before he narrows his eyes, an un-namable hunger clawing at his insides as he pulls you beneath him and groans into your skin.

he likes the way the colors seep the surface of your skin, likes the way it’s so obvious against the bright of your collarbones. he spends all of the following day in an intoxicatingly good mood, to the point where his teammates are understandable suspicious. but he just tells them he slept well, that he had a good dinner last night, that wine was really, really delicious.

and that thanks for the recommendation.

hinata.

brazil has changed him, in more ways than you can count, but at the same time, in some ways, he is just, just the same.

“s-shou-you!”

“mmm —” he whines sucking a deep hickey into the junction of your neck, his pupils blown wide as he pulls back, lips split into a too-pleased grin, “what is it? did i hurt you?”

there’s the barest hint of a tease in his voice, and anyone else might’ve thought he’s completely serious, that he’s actually worried. and in a sense, he is — he’d never want to actually hurt you. but he also knows that — to a certain degree, you revel in this kind of pain.

you chew on your bottom lip, shaking your head.

“no… it’s — it’s okay.”

“yeah?” he sounds entirely too happy with himself as he reaches forward to thumb at the damp spot on your skin, “ah… that one’ll be pretty. just like you!”

he laughs, his joy so pure and infectious that it makes you blush. you look away.

“shou…?”

“hm? what is it, pretty girl?”

he bends back down to press a light kiss to your collarbone, peaking up at you with those would-be innocent eyes.

“don’t… don’t tease me.”

hinata laughs, that self-same, joyous sound.

“but i like teasing you!” he says, with no hint of malice, not a single sliver of shame.

you can only cover your eyes with your arm, turning your head away.

“aww, don’t do that —” he says, coaxing your hand away before pinning both of them above your head with a single, fluid move. your breath hitches.

“don’t hide from me…”

it’s too much to hope for that someone with eyes like his would miss such a thing. you watch as the dark, lightless centers of his eyes grow ever so slightly larger, threatening to overtake the honeyed ring of his actual iris.

“can’t… can’t help it…” you look away, feeling the waves of indomitable heat, wave after wave, washing through you, collecting at the base of your stomach to twist into something deeper, something harder.

“can’t help what, hm?” hinata laces your fingers with his; distinctly, you can feel his thighs flex on either side of your legs, locking you in place. the summers are hot in rio, but you can’t help but wonder if more than half the heat in the room might be coming from the pair of you alone.

all around him, the air wavers like a reflection in pond-water —

“shou… just —” you lick your lips.

“ah…” there’s a soft whine curling at the edge of his voice as he leans down, “you’re not playing fair at all…”

desire pulses like a heartbeat inside you.

“shouyou, please,” you beg, trying to wrest some semblance of control back from him but he’s having none of it. he pins your hands to either side of your head, his bed more than wide enough for the pair of you, with room to spare.

“mah… you gotta be a bit more specific than that,” he says, his voice almost casual as he noses into your pulse point right beneath your jaw. you hold your breath and a second later, the harsh sting of his teeth rakes through you, chasing pleasure down your spine.

“m-more —” you choke out the word against the heat of his lips and you feel rather than see him grin above you.

“yeah? i think i can do that for you.”

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (36/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: Lets get drunk part two - with new opportunities.

Warnings: fluff, alcohol consumption

Word Count: 3.2k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: hah. you thought you'd seen the last of me. feedback is appreciated!

"Okay," says Charles and sits back down next to you on the sun bed. He sets the basket down between you, with the necks of various bottles sticking out of it. "Are you more of a vodka girl or a tequila girl?" He pulls out two bottles and holds them out to you. 

You examine the bottles before raising your hands. "Neither, to be honest." You carefully pull the basket towards you and take a look inside. Your hands turn the containers slowly so you can read the labels better, and when a bottle catches your eye, you grin at your roommate. "Here."

Charles takes the bottle you hold out to him. "Peach?" He looks at you and raises an eyebrow. "Quite summery."

You shrug your shoulders. "You promised to take me with you next summer so I could go swimming in the sea. I just want to prepare myself properly."

A smile spreads across his face. "Touché. All right." He reaches into the basket and fishes out two small shot glasses. He places them at the head of the sun bed to fill them with the peach liqueur. "You'll love it here during the summer. The sun is blazing, the sea is cold and the days are long." He carefully slides a glass over to you so that the contents don't spill over the rim. "It's like paradise."

You nod gratefully at him. "So now you definitely don't have a choice."

He looks at you, confused. "What do you mean by that?"

"Well," you sit up straight and pick up the shot glass. "You talked me up about the boat and summer at sea so much that you definitely have to bring me here next year." You grin at him. "So you have no choice but to take me with you."

"Oh no." He rolls his eyes in mock annoyance and reaches for his glass as well. "So I guess I can't get rid of you at all, huh?"

You shake your head excessively. "No fucking way. You definitely won't get me off this boat in the summer. And the deal about us sharing the apartment is on anyway." You tilt your head. "Even if you really tried, you wouldn't get rid of me that easily." You hold out your arm so he can clink glasses with you. 

He looks you in the eye. There's a sparkle in his green ones as he knocks his glass against yours. "Thank God."

The peach liqueur tastes indescribably good and the longer you lie on the sun bed looking at the glowing Monaco in front of you, the more you drink of it. The stars above you twinkle and although it's getting colder, you're nice and warm. Whether it's the alcohol or Charles' laughter, you don't know. 

"You've met Arthur yourself," he says as you have to press your face into the pillow to stop your laughter echoing across the ocean. "I swear, his April Fool's jokes are the worst! And you never see them coming!"

You giggle into your pillow. "Tell me you didn't fall for it." Hesitantly, you peek over the hem of the pillow to see Charles' blushing face. You quickly push it back into your face and laugh. "Oh, Charles!"

Your roommate grabs his own pillow and hits yours with it. "Don't laugh at me! You'll be affected soon enough! And then I'm not going to be the one to rescue you."

As you slowly calm down and wipe the tears from the corners of your eyes, you put the pillow back behind your head and look at him. "Trust me - by then Arthur will like me enough that we'll form an alliance. Then he certainly won't play any tricks on me."

Charles looks at you, dumbfounded. "Excuse me? I thought you and I were friends! You're supposed to stand on my side!" With a shake of his head, he reaches for the peach liqueur and refills your glasses.

You grin at him. "I don't form alliances with people who fall for stupid pranks like that."

He pushes your glass over to you. "All traitors." He shakes his head again. "I thought at least I had you on my side."

You raise your glass to your lips. "I'm always on your side, Charles. You're my best friend," you assure him, although the sentence leaves a nasty taste in your mouth. You wash it down with the liqueur. "But I'm not going to let Arthur take the piss just to make you feel better."

"You're a great best friend," he says and pours the liqueur into his mouth. "Just you wait and see. I won't save you if my brother does decide to play an April Fool's joke on you."

"You wouldn't dare," you reply with a grin. "Your mom would give you hell if she knew you were abandoning me." You grab the liqueur and fill your glasses again. "After all, she likes me better than you."

Charles watches you fill his glass to the brim. He presses his tongue into your cheek before licking his teeth. "I wish you were wrong." He holds out his arm for you to clink glasses with him. "Here's to my family liking you better than me."

You try to suppress your grin. "Don't worry, Charlie. I like you all the more for it," the alcohol speaks out of you and when you hear what you're saying, the blood rushes to your face. You quickly clink your glass against his and drink the liqueur so you don't have to look at the Monegasque in front of you. 

As he puts his empty glass down, he grins at you. "'Charlie'? You're really going to give me a nickname?"

You roll your eyes and run your fingers through your hair so he doesn't notice your nervousness. "Don't worry," you try to play it down. Thank goodness he can't hear your rapid heartbeat. "I only use it when it's just us."

When you look at Charles again, he smiles at you softly. "I like the name," he assures you. "And if it stays your little secret and mine, I like it even more. It belongs only to you. Only you can call me that."

You smile at him before leaning back into your pillow and looking up at the stars. The night is clear, there isn't a single cloud in the night sky and the sea breeze on your face cools your alcohol-warmed skin pleasantly. You feel Charles lie down as well. 

"Do you want to spend the night at my mother's tomorrow?" he asks quietly. When you turn your head in his direction, he's already looking at you. "I usually spend the night there. Maman always gets delicious wine and when we all get together, the evening gets pretty long." When you raise an eyebrow with a smile, he continues. "And there are plenty of rooms in the house. You're welcome to choose one of them. I'd hate to go back home for Christmas," he adds. "Especially because my mom would be alone and -"

"Charlie," you interrupt him. "We can spend the night at your mom's. There's nothing wrong with that." You wink at him. "Besides, I want to have a drink with Arthur and then I definitely can't go home."

He exhales with relief. "Very good." He turns his head forward and looks up at the stars too. "It's going to be a nice evening. My maman cooks delicious food and then we always play something. It's usually Uno or charades. You've heard how Monopoly turns out for us."

You have to giggle. "I would really like to play Monopoly with you," you admit quietly. "And I would never steal money from the bank either."

Charles exhales. "I'll take your word for that. But Arthur is more cunning than you think. He would steal money from the bank and make it look like it was you. You definitely don't want to play Monopoly with him."

You shrug your shoulders. "Then again, maybe I'm smarter than you give me credit for." You look up at the night sky again. "Maybe I can outsmart Arthur and win."

Your roommate laughs out loud. "Then you'd have to get past me first. And I'm certainly not going to let you win just like that. Not after you said you'd team up with my brother and not stand by me when he pulls his April Fool's pranks."

Offended, you reach behind your head for your pillow to smash it into his face, but Charles is quicker and snatches the pillow out of your hand before you can hit him with it. "You suck, Charlie."

"You love me. Just admit it," he grins and hesitantly gives you your pillow back, risking being exposed to your attack again. 

But you merely wrap your arms around the pillow and hug it to your chest. Even through the feathers inside, you can feel how fast your heart is beating. 

"Of course," you try to play down the swirling feelings inside you and hope that he doesn't notice the trembling in your voice. Or the truth in your words. "I'll still try to beat you at Monopoly. Or Uno. Or charades." Offended, you lie back on your pillow and cross your arms in front of your chest. 

Charles sits up again and refills your shot glasses. He pushes it towards you like a peace offering. "Maybe I'll let you win," he smiles as you look at him. "After all, Christmas is the festival of love and I -" he continues, but is interrupted by the ringing of his cell phone. 

You look at him in confusion. You'd love to know how he would have finished the sentence. "You have reception out here?" you ask him as he pulls his cell phone out of his pocket. 

The Monegasque shakes his head and shows you his phone screen. "I had set an alarm clock."

You raise an eyebrow. "For what?" 

He points to the time with his finger. It's midnight and therefore officially Christmas. He looks at you with a grin. "I have a Christmas present for you." 

As he gets up from the sun bed and staggers onto the wood of the deck, you look at him indignantly. "No way," you reply, annoyed. "If I can't give you a present, then you can't give me one either." 

"Calm down, mon ami," he says, swaying slightly from left to right as he circles you. The alcohol seems to have hit him hard too. "I'll be right back." Without another word, he disappears into the interior of the yacht, leaving you on the sun bed. 

Annoyed, you sit up. 

The fact that you're not allowed to give him a present has almost ruined your friendship. Just the memory of his words that he wants nothing from you but your friendship sends a cold shiver down your spine. You would love to tell him that you want more from him than friendship, that you desire him, that you want him for yourself - that you love him - but no amount of money in the world would make you reveal your feelings to him. If he actually knew how you felt about him, you would certainly lose the only good thing in your life. And you wouldn't risk that under any circumstances. 

You run your fingers nervously through your hair. What could he possibly give you? You've never mentioned anything to him that he could possibly buy. And there's no way he'd change his mind in a day and confess his love for you. You'd have to be incredibly naive to believe that. 

It's not his fault that he doesn't feel the same way about you as you do about him. It's not his fault that his words have torn your heart apart. And it's not his fault that he can't take your feelings into consideration if you don't tell him about them. 

You take a deep breath and smile at him as he rejoins you. In his hand, he holds a brown envelope, which he hands to you as he drops back onto the sun bed next to you. When you look at him uncertainly, he nods at you. "Merry Christmas, mon ami."

Hesitantly, you open the envelope and pull out several pages of paper, held together at the top left corner by a paper clip. You immediately recognize your name on the first page, with Charles written underneath. The rest is written in French, which is why you look at your roommate even more confused than before. "What's this?"

Irritated, he takes the pages from your hand and lets his eyes wander over the letters for a moment before he hits his forehead a little too hard with the palm of his hand. "Shit. I thought they'd printed it out in English," he says, handing the papers back to you. I'm really sorry."

You raise an eyebrow. "And what's this?" Your eyes wander over the paper, trying to identify any of the words, until you unsuccessfully put the papers down in front of you. 

"This, mon ami, is an employment contract," he explains with a smile and leans back a little. 

"An employment contract?"

" Mh-hmm." He licks his lips once. "Remember when Joris mentioned that he had a new job?"

You nod. Of course you remember. 

After you'd been to the place where Charles had been with his father in the past, you both went to Joris' and had lunch there. Joris had told you that he was starting a new job and when you had been there to burn Annika's things, he had talked about it too. 

"Well," Charles says hesitantly. "Joris was my personal photographer. And now that he can no longer work for me and accompany me around the world because of his new job, I thought - well - maybe you'd like to be my new photographer. You - um - you don't have a job at the moment and - well - I thought it would be cool if you and I worked together," he babbles in one breath, blood rushing to his cheeks. "You'd travel with me to the Formula 1 races and take photos there, but of course you'd also spend a lot of time with me in private. Which would be a good fit, as you and I live together anyway and the fans loved the photo you took of me at the lookout point. And the one you just took of me turned out great too."

Your breath is stuck in your lungs. 

Charles wants you to work for him? That you photograph him so he can post the pictures on Instagram? That you fly around the world with him? 

You'd love to throw your arms around his neck with joy, but you just grin at him. "Are you serious?" When he nods, you squeal with excitement. "You're really serious, Charlie? You really want me to work for you?"

"Of course," he admits openly and smiles at you. "You and I are best friends. Why would I want to work with someone else when I have the perfect and best photographer literally sitting right in front of me? I'd be pretty stupid to ask anyone else."

Carefully and with shaky hands, you put the documents back in the envelope. "I - thank you. I don't even know what to say."

"Just say yes." He leans a little to the side so that he can push your full shot glass over to you. "You'll travel around the world with me, get paid incredibly well and spend a lot of time with me. I'll cover the travel expenses, of course. All you have to do is take good photos of me."

You look at him in amazement. "I'm getting paid and you're still covering the travel costs?"

Your flatmate laughs out loud. "Of course! What do you think? Whether I give you more salary so you can pay for your flights and everything yourself, or whether I pay you everything, it's the same in the end."

Heat shoots into your face. "Then at least let me give you money for the rent. Now that I have a job again."

He shakes his head vehemently. "Absolutely not. The money is yours, you can do anything you want with it."

"Except pay the rent," you reply and get his pillow thrown in your face. 

"Exactly. Everything except pay the rent," he assures you. "So, what do you say, mon ami? Do you fancy exploring the world with me?"

You nod with a grin. "Definitely." You raise your shot glass. "Thank you, Charlie. That's the best Christmas present I've ever been given."

A blush creeps into his cheeks as he scratches the back of his neck nervously. "Really?"

You nod with a smile. "Definitely. I can't thank you enough for that." 

The thought of being permanently close to Charles scares you as much as it makes you happy. As his best friend, you're looking forward to spending every minute with him, traveling the world and discovering the most beautiful places. And getting paid for it too. 

As the woman who loves him, you're a little worried about what will happen if he meets someone he falls in love with while you're traveling. You don't want to imagine the pain if he gets into a committed relationship with someone and all you can do is stand on the sidelines and watch him be happy. There's no question that he deserves to be happy - but the thought that the person he's falling in love with isn't you makes you feel sick. 

You try to suppress the thought and smile bravely at him. "It's absolutely the best present. Thank you so much, Charlie. No one's ever done anything like this for me before."

There is a loving sparkle in his eyes. "I'd do anything for you." Before he picks up his glass as well, he pulls out his cell phone again and taps on it. "Can I post it like this?" he asks you and holds his phone out to you. His screen shows the picture you just took, with a simple caption. 

You shrug your shoulders. "I think so. But do you think it's a good idea to post something when you've had so much alcohol?" you ask him with a grin. 

"Oh nonsense," he grins at you and taps his phone one last time before activating the keypad lock and putting it back in his pocket. "I only have good ideas when I'm drunk." He reaches for his shot glass and holds it out to you so you can clink glasses. "I'm glad you said yes. I can hardly wait." 

"Me neither," you reply with a smile. 

He takes a deep breath before his eyes search yours. He would love to put the glasses aside, pull you onto his lap and kiss you until you can't breathe, until the sun rises, until the world ends. But that's just the alcohol whispering to him, he thinks. 

He knocks his glass against yours. "Here's to us."

-

liked by pierregasly, carlossainz55 and others tagged: yourusername charles_leclerc: ma mère approuve

[notiddygothgf]

❛ Talk to me, baby. I'm goin' blind from this sweet, sweet craving, whoa-oh. Let's lose our minds and go fucking crazy. I-I-I-I-I-I keep on hoping we'll eat cake by the ocean. ❜

★ pairings: choso kamo x f!reader

★ synopsis: you and choso find a way to beat the heat.

★ c.w.: sexual tension, PWP, porn without plot, happy ending! au?, idk everyone's happy lol, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, cowgirl in the backseat, creampie, blowjobs, choso has mommy issues lowkey, and the reader caters to them lowkey. dom/sub undertones, choso doesnt know how to deal with his horniness lol, old fashioned, nasty ass sex, just read it you'll love it.

★ a/n: hi baby girls!! I have been holding onto this one for a MINUTE bc I wanted to make sure it's perfect. im doin a lil bit of a kinktober, so send those requests in! I hope u all love it as much as I do. bitchz w mommy issues wya???🗣️🗣️

★ w.c.; 8.6k

masterlist

CHOSO LOVED THE BEACH. Not for the reason one might normally proclaim such affection for an otherwise family-friendly pastime, but it was a valid reason nevertheless. He used to hate it, actually, especially when Getou and Mahito would drag him out there on the hottest day of the summer for their stupid villain conventions. He was quite comfortable at home in all of his layers. But there was something about the beach these days, something that had him reconsidering his bias. 

Call him classless, call him perverted. Whatever it was, there was this strange pull towards the beach that had him in a chokehold. He just couldn’t quite place it.

“You’re staring,” Megumi remarked.

Choso’s brow quirked. Letting his head loll to the side, teetering just off the edge of his beach chair, he offered the following words to his brother’s friend. “No, I wasn’t.”

He totally was. The way his sun glasses slid down the bridge of his nose as you walked past the two was a dead giveaway. But, shit, you looked too good to be true. You were this pretty little thing, strutting around in a pretty pink bikini, soaking in the rays of sunlight, and you were bringing a drink to your friend, Maki. Looked like a lemonade. Also looked like booze. It could have been anything, in all honesty, he wasn’t looking there. 

If there was a god out there, he hoped they would forgive him for his ravenous gaze. He had always had a little thing for you, if you will, but the moment you had walked onto the beach today he found himself completely enamored by you.

As you bent down to set the drink in the sand, the bottom of your small pink bikini slipped inward, revealing the smooth, sand-dusted skin of your plump little butt. Then you plopped down on the beach towel next to your friend and popped open the bottle of sunscreen.

Choso watched – rather shamelessly – as you sprayed some of it onto you arm, rubbing it in. You held the canister towards your chest at arms length and released some more of the sheer spray onto the skin there. It trickled down, catching the light of the sun, dripping down between your breasts–

A pair of hairy, pale legs obstructed the view. 

“Found a sand dollar,” Spoke none other than the world’s quirkiest little brother, Yuuji Itadori. In a rather fitting slow-pan up to his face, Choso took note of the dorky goggles that he had popped over his eyes. He was shirtless. You would think that the man would have learned that you don’t need to go deep sea diving at the beach by now. “You guys coming?”

Megumi took the words right out of Choso’s mouth. Or, actually, ‘word’ might be more fitting. 

“No.”

“I’ll pass,” Choso sighed, repositioning his sunglasses over his eyes. Silently, of course, he cursed his brother for putting on such a show in front of – what was he talking about? Choso Kamo… letting his desires cloud his love for his brother? He usually wasn’t this bad. “I thought I threw those out on you?”

“I bought new ones,” Yuuji muttered. He practically tore the goggles from his face, sending locks of pink hair standing up in the air. Tossing them to the side, he plopped between Megumi and Choso on the picnic blanket.

“Of course you did,” Megumi, who had, for a brief – but beautiful – moment been alluded into believing his friend had decided to keep his remarkable lack of social awareness to himself, reached into the cooler they had filled earlier that day and produced a much needed refreshment. 

“Hi!”

Choso, Yuuji and Megumi all turned their heads toward the sound.

It was you. His ‘crush’, as Yuuji had embarrassingly called it. And, shit, you looked even prettier up close. Your hair looked so soft. So did your–

He shook the thoughts away. 

“Sorry to bother ‘ya,” You lowered your head apologetically. You extended your arm out towards the three men. Clutched in your small hand was the bottle of sunscreen you had been using before Yuuji had caught Choso’s attention. “My friend is out cold. Could you just get my back for me?”

Choso felt his face grow red at the mere prospect of being so close to you. He had never had the courage to actually reach out and touch you. He felt as if, for some odd reason he didn’t quite understand, his touch would have killed you. You had always been so sweet to him, offering him small talk, refreshments, and friendly jokes when it was just the two of you away from the group.

“Not a problem, Sensei,” Yuuji replied rather quickly. 

He reached for the bottle. Before he could grab it, Megumi jabbed his elbow harshly into the back of Yuuji’s neck.

“Bitch, ow,” He hissed.

The glare Megumi shot him could have been heard from ten miles away. Choso sighed, refraining from shaking his head.

“I think he’s sick. I’ll bring him to the infirmary,” Megumi added quietly, standing up rather abruptly and taking Yuuji with him. 

Yuuji babbled mindlessly the whole way back.

Highschoolers.

Choso looked back to you. Just you. Alone. He felt his hands get all clammy again. He blamed it on the sun. You were holding the bottle expectantly. 

“Uh… I can… I can help, if you’re okay with that,” He looked away, internally kicking himself for fumbling so hard. 

You only tilted your head at him. Your eyes were so pretty, wide open as they lingered over his body, his eyes, his nose. Your gaze was a wildfire spreading over the expanse of his face.

It was then that he realized he was very, very shirtless.

“‘Kay, thanks,” you smiled softly.

As you laid down on the beach blanket, Choso felt his heart race even faster. He could hardly believe this was all happening – hell, part of him wondered if he had overstepped by offering his services to you. The sun beat down on your skin, his head, the sand – he blamed the warmth flooding his face on the weather. 

You were laid on your stomach only a few inches away, completely oblivious to his moral dilemma. 

He took a deep breath, attempting to calm himself while he reached for the bottle of sunscreen you had set onto the blanket beside you. With hands that trembled ever-so-slightly, he uncapped the bottle and squeezed a small amount onto his palm. The sunscreen was cool to the touch – so, not wanting to cause you even the slightest bit of discomfort, he warmed it up between his hands.

He then hesitantly placed his hands on the smooth valley of your upper back. 

You gasped, twitching beneath his palms. 

“Did I hurt you?” He asked quickly, withdrawing his hands.

“No, sorry,” You sighed, shifting on the blanket and then relaxing once more. “Your hands are cold ‘s all.”

Choso felt the blush coming on all over again. He hoped you wouldn’t turn your head back around and see him like this. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, averting his gaze. 

“You’re all good, hot stuff,” You offered. “You can keep going.”

His face burned like hell at your compliment. He knew you were that way with everyone, dropping little ‘babe’s and ‘honey’s to your friends and fellow sorcerers. He wasn’t anything special, anyway. Surely, you weren’t talking to him.

He replaced his hands on your back, touch delicate like your skin would crack if he pressed too hard. He started with broad strokes, making sure to spread the sunscreen across your skin evenly. His fingers splayed out over your warm, soft skin, moving in circles. He massaged the sunscreen into your back with a tenderness that surprised even himself.

He wasn’t sure what this stuff actually did. He had seen some of Yuuji’s Jujutsu friends slather some on earlier. Judging by the name, he assumed it protected them from the sun. From what, though? Could the sun hurt some humans? He didn’t really understand.

“You’re wondering something,” You asked, seemingly sensing his pensiveness by the way his hands slowed. “Ask away.”

Choso bit the skin on the inside of his lip, “This lotion…” he asked, “What does it do?”

“Sunscreen?” You hummed. “It forms a layer over your skin so you don’t get sunburnt.”

“Sunburnt…” He reiterated. 

“Yeah, that shit hurts,” You added. “I’m guessing Itadori never gave you the run-up on beach necessities…?”

“I guess not,” He remarked quietly.

“I can show you how to apply yours if you want,” You said.

Choso’s heart felt like it would burst. “Okay,” he said, pausing slightly. “I’d like that, thanks.”

Then he was back to his job. His hands smoothed over your back, dipping down a little lower until his thumb brushed against the strap of your bikini. He felt suddenly aware of how soft and warm you felt beneath his touch. 

He was dangerously close to the knot in the string that held your whole getup together. He worried for a moment that the dainty bow would come undone – by some strange, supernatural turn of events – despite him making a great effort to move around it. 

Choso’s breath hitched when his finger caught on the string, making the knot snap against your skin. He froze up, heart pounding in his chest, perfectly still over your body. The string felt like a fragile barrier between your warm skin and his cold touch, between your body and the thoughts that raced through his mind.

He wondered if you found him weird and off-putting. His gaze flickered up to your face, leaning over slightly, searching your face for any sign of discomfort. 

But when he looked into your eyes, he found you were looking at him with the same curiosity. You smiled at him, pretty lips forming a reassuring expression, wordlessly encouraging him to keep going. 

Slowly, unsurely, Choso continued his ministrations. He trailed two digits down your spine, stopping at the string. He felt a knot beneath the skin there. He knew sorcerers put themselves through rigorous training. He didn’t doubt that you were feeling sore from the mission you had just come back from a few days ago.

“You’re tense here,” He said quietly.

You turned your head to look at him, “Yeah?” 

“Right here,” He pinpointed the exact area with his knuckles, pressing deep into the tissue. 

In response, you moaned quietly, back shifting beneath his touch. His shorts seemed to get just a little bit tighter. 

Calm down.

“You got magic hands, Choso,” You quipped, though your voice was strained as he passed over the knot a second time. “You could be a masseuse.”

He felt his nerves subside only slightly, though he felt flustered by your words.

You got magic hands.

You could be a masseuse.

Unbeknownst to him, the sensation of his touch created a pleasant tingling beneath your skin. You closed your eyes, letting him take the reins.

Choso continued to work his fingers over your back, feeling the tension slowly melt away beneath his touch. He had used up the last of the sunscreen to cover your lower back, the skin just above your bottom, and he realized his job was done.

“I think that should do it,” He said softly, voice tinged with reluctance as he removed his hands from your back.

You sat up, stretching, turning towards him, eyes sparkling, “Thanks, Cho, you’re a lifesaver.”

You’re a lifesaver.

A shy smile tugged at his lips, “Of course.”

Then, to his surprise, you asked. “You’re sweet. Mind if I sit with you?”

Choso felt his heart skip more than one beat. His eyes widened. He looked at the sand, the shoreline, anything but you. “Sure,” he said.

Smooth, dumbass.

You grinned and pushed yourself up, saying, “I’ll be right back.”

Choso took a moment to collect his thoughts as you left. He was getting ahead of himself. Way ahead of himself. Stll, you had chosen to spend more time with him. You wanted to sit with him. 

Conveniently, only a brief moment after you had stepped away, Megumi returned with Yuuji in tow. Choso quirked a brow at the speed of their return.

“That was quick,” he remarked.

Megumi shrugged, “Took him to get ice cream on the boardwalk instead.”

“You get her number?” Yuuji asked.

“I was doing her a favor,” Choso’s calm facade broke. With wide eyes, he hissed, “Pervert.”

“Dumbass,” Yuuji sucked his teeth.. “Look, tonight’s the night to make a move. When else would you find yourself alone with her like this?”

And before Choso could respond, you came back, holding a speaker in one hand. “I brought snacks!” You smiled.

Some time around sundown, sometime after Getou had summoned up one of his low-grade curses to start a fire, the beach day transformed itself into a fireside chat. It was a picturesque scene. The sky was a canvas of blue, with hues of pink and orange painted over the horizon. It was mostly empty there, now. The waves lapped calmly at the shore, a quiet noise that seemed to accompany the quiet chatter of friends gathered around a fire.

There was laughter, groups of people indulged in conversations. Everyone seemed so calm, so happy, it almost seemed to good to be true.

Megumi and Itadori were caught in a cock-off with Maki. Nobara stargazing on her and Maki’s beach blanket. Gojo and Getou were talking in his direction, but not necessarily at him.

“I just think you have an unfair drinking advantage because you’re a man,” You were saying just off to Choso’s side.

The mood was light. Everyone seemed to be content. 

Choso, however, couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from you. The warm, fading sunlight seemed to caress your features from the side, highlighting your pretty smile and making your eyes shimmer. He found himself completely and utterly enamored by you.

You and Getou had cracked open a bottle of Tequila about an hour ago. Getou’s boyfriend long-term-long-distance-low-commitment-casual-boyfriend, Satoru Gojo was red in the face, slouched against the bare chest revealed by Getou’s unbuttoned floral shirt. 

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Gojo chuckled, letting Getou top off his fourth shot of the night.

Getou denied any relationship with Gojo. Their eyes betrayed them, though. The connection was evident in the loving glances they exchanged. 

You had a faint flush of your own, though you had only taken two shots so far.

He tried two of his own, only because you didn’t want to do them alone. He had never been big on drinking. He just didn’t want to seem like a pussy.

“Why don’t you pour me one so we can test that theory?” Nobara nudged you in the side.

Choso watched the scene unfold with mild interest.

“Because you’re a minor,” You said.

Nobara pouted, leaning back onto her blanket. “Not like I’ve never drank before.”

Maki chimed in over her shoulder, “Got vomit stains on my carpet to prove it.”

���Shut up,” She bit back. 

You handled the situation effortlessly. “I don’t condone teen drinking,” You began, your voice softening as you continued, “But. I know the four you will probably go hit up one of those beachside bars tonight with your fake IDs anyway.”

“Fake IDs?” Gojo looked at Megumi out of the corner of his eye. Megumi did not look back.

You clapped. Choso’s ears perked up at the sound.

“That being said!” You raised your voice a bit. “I would rather you drink something less potent. Under adult supervision.”

You turned to Getou and Gojo, who exchanged knowing glances before nodding their approval. Choso couldn’t help but be impressed.

“So who wants a Malibu rum spritzer?” You clasped your hands together.

Excitement rippled through the group, and all of the kids, yes all of the kids, Including Yuuji, eagerly raised their hands. 

Choso shot his brother a disapproving glare, one that dissipated the moment you leaned in, laying your head on his shoulder. Your voice, soft and smooth like your skin, enticed him as you sing-songed, “Let the kid live a little.”

It was rather remarkable, actually, how quickly his defenses melted at your gentle persuasion. He sighed in resignation. “Alright.”

You grinned up at him, effortlessly stealing his breath away. 

“Great,” you said, getting up from your spot without another word. “I’ll go get them from my car. Don’t wait up for me, I walk real slow.”

Turning your attention back to Choso, you looked at him with a warmth behind your gaze he couldn’t quite place. “Choso, sweetie, could you help me carry the cooler?”

His heart soared at your request – at the prospect of you wanting his assistance. He got to his feet quickly, eager to help. 

The sand felt cool beneath his feet as he followed your lead. 

The moon hung low in the sky as you and Choso strolled through the parking lot, searching for your jeep. The temperature had dropped quite a few notches from earlier, cold breeze rustling through Choso’s hair. 

When you spotted your ride, you said, “There it is!”

Choso followed wordlessly behind you. He was still quite nervous that – for the second time today – it was just you and him… alone. Yuuji’s words echoed through his mind.

“When else would you find yourself alone with her like this?”

You popped the door to the backseat open, sitting on the floor – your truck was raised a bit off the ground, so it didn’t put you too far below him. 

“My legs are so fucking sore,” You sighed. You dusted your leg off with the backside of your bare foot. When you peered up at him through those long, dense lashes of yours, he felt himself fall for you a second time. 

You asked him, “Mind if we take a little break?”

Choso nodded along like the dumb little dog he was for you.

You pushed yourself up and away from the truck, gesturing for him to get inside. It didn’t take much at all for him to step into it and take a seat. You settled in right next to him – perhaps a little closer to Choso than was strictly necessary. He couldn’nt help the pleasant shiver that went down his spine at the feeling of you sitting next to him; so warm, so soft, so perfect.

You let out a contented sigh and leaned your head on his shoulder once more. “I got tired of bein’ social,” You confessed.

He tried hard not to quirk a brow at the admission. Am I an exception?

“Do you want me to leave you alone?” He asked sincerely. He tried even harder to ignore the warm weight of your small head on his shoulder.

So close.

“No,” You hummed quietly. The interior light faded away, gently submerging the two of you in darkness. He could still see your face, your eyes – the way they seemed to sparkle as they looked up at him. “You’re different.”

Choso’s heart took the liberty of skipping one, two, three beats. 

You continued without allowing him time to come up with an adequate response. “Can I be honest with you, Choso?”

His cheeks flushed. Still, curiosity piqued, he muttered, “Of course.”

Your voice was soft and vulnerable when you replied, “I think you’re really hot.”

If his face wasn’t hot, it sure was now. He turned away even though he knew you couldn’t see him blushing. 

She thinks I’m hot?

Does that mean she likes me?

You had nothing but sincerity in your eyes while you gazed up at him. “You feel the same way, don’t you?”

He bit his tongue, answering honestly, “I do.”

He hated how calm and collected he sounded. On the outside, he was the image of composure. On the inside, he was dying a hundred times over. 

You grinned at his admission. “Can I ask you something else, then?”

His lips suddenly felt very dry. He tried his best to focus on the street outside, counting landmarks and objects like his life depended on it – two seagulls, five wooden posts, two dim street lights.

“Sure,” he said.

“Can I kiss you?” You asked. “I’ve been thinking about it all day.”

And, dammit, when you asked him like that – he could practically feel the last of his resolve crumble beneath your gaze, beneath the weight of your head on his shoulder, beneath your gentle touch on his knee that he hadn’t noticed until now.

You were so close. So close that if he turned his head, angled it down just slightly, your noses would touch. He felt your breath, warm and steady against his neck – a calming symphony that contrasted the trembling mess he had become,

Yuuji’s words played on repeat again. Tonight’s the night to make a move.

He was such a fool for you. Still, he considered himself to be a man of restraint.

His voice was small and scarce, hardly above a whisper when he breathed out, “Yeah.”

Time seemed to slow down as your request hung out in the air. He could feel the anticipation building, buzzing. His heart pounded against his ribcage like a mallet to a gong. He had spent months wondering what would happen if you – by some odd, small chance – returned his affections, and now, with your vulnerability laid bare, he couldn’t resist any longer.

He considered himself to be a man of restraint, that was, until he peered into your wide, longingful eyes. 

With a barely noticeable nod, Choso turned his head just slightly, his eyes locking onto yours. Just as he had anticipated, your noses brushed together – he could feel the warmth of your breath on his lips. 

You were magnetic.

And in that final, heart-pounding moment, your lips met in the middle – in a gentle, tender union. Choso’s hand seemed to find its own way to your cheek, touch soft as he cupped your cheek. He felt for some odd reason that you might vanish altogether if he let you go.

He wasn’t entirely sure if it had been you or him who deepened the kiss. Either way, he felt himself melt into the seat. The world outside seemed to fade away, ceasing to exist in your presence. None of it mattered – not the empty, public street, not the group of friends waiting on the beach for his return.

Yuuji. 

Choso pulled away with a shuddering gasp, pressing his forehead against yours. He licked his lips, panting, “The drinks… We– we should probably– uh… get those.”

He feared that if his heart beat any faster he would explode.

You made no effort to put any distance between you and him. In fact, you put your hands on his shoulders, moving yourself so that you were situated comfortably in his lap. 

“There’s no rush,” You hummed. “Getou and Gojo are probably off sucking face somewhere, and those kids have been keeping themselves entertained just fine. Who would notice?”

His eyes were everywhere but your face. For a half-curse, he found himself to be no better than a man, hungry eyes wandering over your body – your eyes, your lips, the subtle curve of your waist, the fabric of your bikini that seemed like it was hugging you just right.

You seemed to have caught him in the act. 

“Do you wanna touch me, Choso?” You asked, and it sounded like an invitation.

Still, he worried he was reading too deeply into things. Doing his best to refrain from making you feel any sort of discomfort, he swallowed, “I…”

He was about to fucking explode – both metaphorically and physically, judging by the way his shorts began to tighten again at your words.

“You think I didn’t see you staring today?” You continued, letting your fingers slip into his hair. 

He wanted to freeze up, wanted to feel some form of remorse, but when you were massaging his scalp so gently, so lovingly…

“I’m  sorry,” he lied.

“Don’t be,” You giggled, and he felt his stomach do a fucking flip at the sound of it. You leaned in close to him, close to his ear, and whispered into it, “I was staring, too.”

He felt like such a virgin, thighs tensing up at your admission. He thought of you on the beach again – sneaking sideways glances at him, at his body, at him…

He felt his resolve break when you pressed a soft kiss to the shell of his ear. 

“Kiss– Kiss me again,” he breathed, feeling slightly lightheaded from all of the attention you were giving him. You placed another kiss to the corner of his jaw. “Please… kiss me again.”

You pulled away, pressing your nose right up against his again. Your breaths were shallow and ragged now – strange. “You want me, baby boy?”

Baby boy. Baby boy, fuck.

He licked his lips, “Please.”

And then your lips were on his without so much as another word. You ate him up like a starved woman, teeth nipping at his lower lip for entry.

The last of his restraint flew out the window.

The kiss was electrifying, sent sparks shooting through his veins, fingertips tingling as they found their way to your hips. It was a wildfire, consuming everything in its path. He could taste you – the sweetness of your lipgloss as it smeared messily over the lower half of his face, the beat of your heart thrumming beneath his touch, the scent of sunscreen that lingered on your skin.

He found himself getting lost in the moment.

He deepened the kiss further, gripping your hips, your lower back with a bit more confidence. For a moment, he could forget about his responsibilities, his past. It didn’t matter; not now, not when he could feel your body pressed up against him, hot and soft and compliant.

His face burned when he felt that familiar tingling feeling – he knew he was getting hard beneath you, he could feel the way your hips lifted when you adjusted yourself over the tent in his shorts. 

However, to his surprise, you didn’t pull away. Instead, you pressed into him, wrapping your arms around his neck and bringing yourself even closer. He felt dizzy, sliding his tongue across your wet lips, exploring your mouth. You tangled your fingers in his touseled black locks, rolling your hips against his slowly, hesitantly, like you were testing the waters. 

The jolt of electricity he felt from that small movement had him pulling away. Even in the midst of the fervor, Choso was acutely aware of his own impulses. He feared he was getting too far ahead of himself; if you kept rubbing yourself against him like that, he was gonna cream his fucking pants like a middle schooler.

“Wait, wait– ah–” He grunted, leaning back against the seat.

“Hmm?” You hummed – still, you only slowed down a little bit.

His mouth hung open. It felt so good, the friction, the feeling of your warmth rolling up and down the thin layer of fabric separating the two of you. Fuck — why did he tell you to stop, again?

He fought hard to regain his composure. “I– I’ve never done this before,” he stammered.

“Really?” You asked, teasingly, almost, like you knew the effect you had on him. You rutted up against him again, a little harder. “You’re a natural.”

He could feel you – the thin cloth covering your nether regions left little to the imagination. You felt so warm, so welcoming. He ached to pull the thin fabric to the side and sink into you.

Fuck. Stop. He turned his head away, at war with his impulses.

Again, for a half-curse, he felt like nothing more than a man. A weak man, and it was all your fault.

The whine that left his mouth felt anything but natural. “Won’t– What if someone sees us?”

You said nothing. When he looked back at you, you were undoing the knot behind your head – the one holding your bikini together.

His eyes went wide. If his attraction to you were any more obvious, his jaw would have been on the floor. 

“Let them watch,” You grinned. Then you let your top fall over, breasts spilling out like something out of a porno. 

He was in awe. You were perfect. There were little bits of sand stuck to the skin where your bikini lay only seconds prior, faint tanlines already forming over your skin. He felt his mouth water.

“You can touch them, if you want,” You answered his unasked question.

And he wasted no time, gently cupping one of your tits with his large, warm palm. He gave it an experimental squeeze. Then another. Then his thumb wandered down to your nipple, giving the bud a gentle flick.

You whind, hand sliding up the back of his head. 

She likes that, he noted.

So, deciding to take his experiment a step further – and for the sake of conserving time, he began peppering kisses to your hot skin, to the valley between your soft, plush mounds. He held both in his hands, rolling his thumb over the hardened buds to compensate for the lack of attention.

He wanted nothing more than to take his sweet, precious time with you – committing every curve and valley of your body to memory. But, alas, he knew you were on a time crunch. Any minute now, someone could find the two of you here, like this.

He kissed his way back over to his hands. Then, finally, he wrapped his lips around that place he knew made you feel good. 

Sure enough, you arched into him, pink, swollen lips parting to release a pant of his name, “Choso, baby.”

He flattened his tongue over the tip of your nipple, rolling over it in slow circles – then quicker ones, until he felt the spit gathering between his lips and your skin. You responded in kind by rutting against him a little faster. He had never felt a burn quite so delightful in his life.

He can’t quite help himself from letting out a little whine when you tug on his hair. The flavor of sunscreen and salt lingered on your skin. He felt hot– you were hot, oh so hot.

Before he could return the favor on the other nipple, you pushed him away. You looked disheveled, pupils blown wide, hair frizzed up.

“Y’feel so big,” You gasped, still humping his hard cock like a dog in heat. You stopped, but only to sink into the space between his legs and the back of the driver’s seat. Splaying your fingers over his thighs, his shorts, you panted, “Wanna taste. Can I?”

He could only blink up at you. This isn’t real.

“Of course, baby,” He replied, throwing the nickname from earlier back at you, already reaching for the strings of his swim trunks when you batted his hands away. Your enthusiasm made his head spin.

He let you take the reigns – watching with hungry, lustful eyes as you undid the bow yourself. You reached for the waistband of his shorts, tugging them down and letting his dick spring free. 

It nearly hit you in the face, how big the thing was. He had never actually thought about it that way, at least, not until now, when you were gazing up at it with wide eyes and wet, parted lips. 

Your eyes were on his tip, glistening with a bead of precum, then wandering down the shaft as the two of you watched it drip.

“Are you sure about this?” He asked.

You didn’t bother pulling his pants the rest of the way down, or even acknowledging his comment. No, the moment the waistband was out of the way, you were swallowing him whole.

Choso exhaled sharply, nearly doubling over at the sensation of your warm mouth closing in around him. He felt the muscles in his abdomen tense with the strain of it – he thought he could cum like this, with your lips stretched around him, and he didn’t really think he would mind testing that theory.

His skin was hot. He burned for you.

You pulled up. Sucking him back into your mouth, you hollowed your cheeks. Then you throated him again, right up until your nose brushed his navel. He felt himself throb in your mouth.

“Fuck, ‘s good,” He heard himself whimper weakly, tangling a trembling hand in your hair while you picked up the pace.

And you went at it like you were made for it. Up and down, up and down, fitting him all the way in until the head of his cock bumped the back of your throat. Over and over again, until his vision blurred a bit at the edges, mind a little hazy with lust.

You were sucking and slurping on him so lewdly – fuck, he could die like this. 

You didn’t show any signs of stopping, either.

He moaned – much to his embarrassment – actually moaned. You were working him rather quickly up to what he knew would be an earth shattering (albeit poorly timed) orgasm. 

You made a noise in response, though it was broken up by the nasty, dirty sound you made every time you gagged on his dick. You peered up at him through half-lidded eyes, through long, wispy lashes, leaving a trail of saliva running down his thighs that he didn’t even mind.

Choso caressed the side of your face, biting his lip. “Mmh,” he panted, “You do it so well.”

In response, you put a hand over his. You directed his gentle touch to the top of your head, instructing him to push down. Hesitantly, gently, he began to guide your head, bobbing you back and forth on his length while you sat back and let him use you. 

He noticed that you were struggling to fit the whole thing in your mouth. He saw that there were tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, but he knew you were determined. He used his thumb to wipe your tears away, tucking your hair behind your ears to keep it out of your face.

With a shudder and a whine, he pushed your head down a little further. You gagged on it again, swallowing him down, tightening your throat around him like you were made to suck dick.

If this was to be his last night alive, he would die a happy man.

His legs felt weak, as did his arms. You took over, gently assisting him in fucking your mouth. 

“Ah– nnh, you’re–” He licked his lips, guiding your head while allowing you to continue setting your own pace. You were making him feel so good, so hot.

You pulled back for a moment to slurp unceremoniously on his tip, letting spit drip down his shaft. You wrapped your hands around him, working what you couldn’t fit into your mouth while your tongue did tricks on his tip – circles, shapes, letters, he didn’t even know anymore.

He felt like he was going dumb.

Just as he leaned his head back into the seat, you pulled off, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. 

“Got carried away,” You giggled breathlessly. “Sorry.”

Then you were climbing right back into his lap, bracing your hands on his shoulders, kissing him with a ravenous hunger. 

“I’m not gonna blue ball you, don’t worry,” You licked your lips. Reaching down, you slipped the fabric of your bikini thong to the side. “I want you.”

“H–...” He trailed off, fighting to catch his breath – better yet, to regain his surroundings. “How do you want me?”

In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to feel you sink down onto him, to feel your warmth envelop him entirely. He wanted you to ride him past the point of hypersensitivity. He wanted you to use him until you were satisfied – like some sort of fuck toy.

He didn’t care anymore. He had left his inhibitions at the door. 

“Wanna fuck you right here, like this,” You muttered against his lips, licking a stripe from his chin all the way to his cupid’s bow. You guided the head of his dick between your folds, smearing your slick all over him in a way that made him arch up. “Wanna drain that pretty cock of yours, wanna cum all over it– can you do that for me?”

You were so nasty… so dirty that he found himself a red, blushing mess at your words. But, still…

For you?

Anything.

“Yes,” he groaned. He felt like he was going to melt if he waited another moment longer. “Fuck, please, use me until you’re satisfied.”

He hadn’t even thought about saying it. It had slipped out.

You paused, blinking down at him with wide, lustful eyes. Finally, you said, “you’re such a good puppy, you know that?”

He would be whatever the hell you wanted him to be.

“G’nna let me ride you, pretty boy?” You cooed, sliding your hands up his torso, up his bare chest, up his shoulders while you hovered over him. 

This was moving quickly. Not like he had any objections to that, of course. Clearly, you didn’t either. As you positioned the tip in line with your dripping cunt, sinking down onto him, he felt his eyes roll back into his head.

He gasped, letting his eyelids fall shut. He didn’t even care that he was losing his virginity in the backseat of his coworker’s truck like some cheap whore. He would let you take it, take more, take everything you wanted from him.

You lifted your hips and then sank down on him again, eliciting a strangled grunt of your name from him. The filthy squelching sound your cunt made as it squeezed him in threw him for a loop.

He leaned forward, shivering, burning his head in your neck. “S’too tight,” he panted, though he let you continue working on him with a remarkable amount of ease – sliding back and forth in a way that had the both of you panting for more. “Fucking– shit, ah–”

“Chosooo– ‘S so big,” You moaned his name like it was made of honey, fucking yourself down onto his dick, letting all of the sinful noises flow from your lips. “Fuck, feel it in my guts.”

He would have thought you were lying to him if it weren’t for your spectacle earlier.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he breathed. When he looked up at you again, he couldn’t tear his eyes away. You were the image of pornographic beauty – sinful, beautiful, sultry. Your brows were scrunched together with concentration, legs trembling around him as you slowed down to savor the way he worked you open.

“Pretty baby,” He mused, running his hands over your stomach, your hips. “You keep goin’ like that ‘n– fuck– I won’t– Last long.”

“Mmh,” you giggled.

Then you picked up the speed a bit, like you hadn’t even heard what he had just said. You were rising and sinking on his dick with newfound purpose, chasing after the promise of paradise like a wild animal.

“Look at me,” he begged, eyes half-lidded and desperate, tongue running across his lower lip. “Fu-uck– please, ‘M...”

You obeyed, meeting his gaze with such a fiery passion that he almost wished he hadn’t asked you – feeling that coil in his gut grow a little tighter when your hazy eyes were on him. You bounced obediently on his cock, up and down, up and down until you were a grunting, groaning mess. 

“Mm… fuckkk,” You sighed, hips faltering a bit. “Feels good, Choso.”

Choso felt his hips twitch beneath you, hands tensing on your backside. Then, slowly, he began to meet your thrusts midway. His ass lifted off of the seat, legs spreading a bit further apart while he used his strength to continue fucking you senseless.

He was mesmerized by you, by the way you clenched and squeezed him, by the way your mouth lolled open to make way for broken cries of his name, by the way your tits bounced in his face whenever he thrusted up into you.

He worried for a moment that he was being too harsh with you. 

“Harder– please!” You gasped, clawing at his shoulders, at his chest.

Still, he obeyed. He fucked you dumb, hips snapping up against your ass with such strength that the whole car lurched forward. Your head came dangerously close to the ceiling.

But he didn’t have the guts to stop. Not when you were screaming for him, repeating his name like some sort of mantra. He was as weak for you as he had always been.

“Choso– Choso–”

The feeling of your warm, wet walls massaging the head of his cock had him whimpering into the crook of your neck. It was a hot, gummy abyss he wouldn’t mind getting sucked into for the remainder of his life. 

“You like that?” He asked you, spare hand sliding up from your hips, past your breasts, to your neck. 

He knew now that you liked it rough. He could provide that. 

So, with no further warning, he gripped your hip roughly, sliding into you at full force. You cried out his name again, fingernails digging into his skin. 

The car bounced every time he pounded up into you. Faster, faster. 

It felt like you were squeezing him for dear life. 

Choso cried out, a broken whine as he slowed his thrusts for a minute to a much slower pace. Feeling your perfect pussy clenching around him, he nearly doubled over from the sudden pleasure. “Please,” he gasped, laying his head back. “Fuck, that’s good.”

You bit your lip, sliding up until it was just the tip left inside of you, and then slamming back down onto him at full force. You repeated this action a few more times, lips parted to make way for the sinful… sultry moans that passed from between them. Clearly, you were relishing in the way he squirmed and gasped beneath you.

He couldn’t blame you. He knew that he, too was doing everything he could to commit this scene to memory, wild eyes raking over your body, over the junction where you met him. The way you were riding him… shit, he didn’t know he would be able to make the walk back. 

You looked so obscene like this, all fucked out, dumb on his dick.

Throwing your head back, you groaned.

He was gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. Fuck, he knew that– cursed strength and all. But he couldn’t bring himself to slow down.

“So f-fucking good,” he stammered. He sought out your lips again, snapping his hips up against your ass mercilessly. For someone who had been so concerned about being discovered a little while ago, his quiet grunts and gasps turned into moans and whimpers against your sore lips. Louder and louder.

Admittedly, though, he was more focused on the noises coming out of your own mouth. You were practically screaming for him.

He had no idea that sex could even feel so mind-numbingly good. For him, especially, but for you…?

You froze up rather suddenly, hips spasming wildly, toes curling up on either side of his thighs while you gasped brokenly. 

“FUCK!”

There it was.

He felt his face burn. You cried his name again, bouncing up and down on it, wildly chasing after that high. “Choso– m’close–”

“You gonna cum, pretty girl?” He hummed, once again throwing your nickname back at you. He grinned, knowing full and well that he had cracked the code. So he kept that same speed, same pace, same everything while his fingers dropped from your neck to the mess you had made between the two of you.

He knew what to do now – surprisingly enough. He had done some… internet research after his brother had broken the meaning of his feelings down to him (along with what Choso was to do when his crush came to fruition). 

What? Curses didn’t make love. Sex was transactional.

He was curious about how sex was on the human side of things.

He ran his tongue over his thumb, reaching between the steamy, sweaty union of your bodies to find your clit. He pressed down, rolling over the nub in quick, expert circles. 

One look up at you, and he knew you were close to your breaking point. You looked like you were about to pass out, letting yourself be thrown around on his wild hips like a ragdoll. You were too weak to move, so you sat there and took his dick like a good girl, eyes glazed over with pleasure while he fucked you dumb.

You looked like you were in love.

Choso sped his ministrations over your clit up a little faster, feeling the knot in his own stomach begin to grow faster than he wanted. He was in another world, out of this plane, hypnotized. 

All he could see in that moment was your angelic face above him, face scrunched up in pleasure – and partially in pain, as he bullied his cock into your cervix – sweat rolling down your neck, your breasts, your voluptuous body.

“Mine–” You gasped out, clawing at his shoulder blades while your back arched. “Oh– fuck! Th’s dick ‘s mine, mmh?”

It was.

He nodded. But, clearly, that wasn’t good enough. Your hand shot out to grip him by the neck, painted fingernails digging into his throat. 

“‘S yours,” He gasped back into your mouth. “All yours, I swear– ah–”

You were so hot. It made him feel things– feel like he was dying over and over again in the best way possible.

That along with the way your hand gripped his throat – using your small thumb to cut off his blood supply for a few seconds too long before loosening your grip, letting him gasp for air as the blood came rushing back – he felt lightheaded.

The way your pussy was spasming around him certainly didn’t do anything to help. He knew you were close, shit, but could you hold on a minute?

You were gonna make him cum too fast.

“You’re mine, yeah?” You asked again, keeping your grip strong on his neck. “All mine?”

“M’yours,” The cursed womb grunted against your neck. His brows were furrowed in concentration. His teeth nipped at the sensitive skin, careful not to leave marks. “All yours.”

He meant it. Even though he would have said anything you asked him to at this point, he really meant it. He hoped you knew that.

Judging by the way you came a moment later with a stutter of your hips and a strangled cry of, “Cho–”, he assumed you understood. 

Your cunt was a warm, wet, death trap, walls milking his cock for all it was worth. 

Shit, he thought. You really weren’t lying about that.

His dark eyes were burning into yours, burning with a desire so intense he felt he might burst at the seams if he kept looking a moment longer. 

“Want you to cum inside of me,” You commanded him, holding his head in your trembling hands. “Fill me up, please, I need it.”

His eyes widened, blinking down at the white ring you had made around the base of his dick. His eyes flitted back up to you, pleading with you to let him go. Pleading for you to give the soul that you stole from him back,

“I can’t–” he released a trembling breath.  

He thought of himself as a father raising a child. Right now, it didn’t seem so bad.

“Please, ‘m on the pill,” you begged him, gazing into his eyes like you knew he wasn’t strong enough to refuse. “Wanna feel it dripping out of me. Think about it– what– ah– what would they think? … If they knew–”

You gasped when he delivered a harsh smack to your ass, slowing his strokes so that he could savor the way you sucked him in. “If they knew we snuck off to fuck? That– that I had your cum dripping out of me while they ask what took us so long?”

“Fuckk,” Choso groaned, hips trembling beneath you. His dark hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat, cheeks burning. His breaths – and yours – had fogged the windows up.

You squeezed around him one more time, placing a tender kiss to his lips. You muttered into his mouth, “Do it f’me… please, Choso.”

“Mmh–!” And that was all it took. Choso rolled his hips up into you one more time, twitching, whining, feeling your warmth spasm around him as he spilled into you. He drove as deep up into you as he could – holding onto you for dear life while the coil snap, and he came so hard that his legs gave out. Lots of it. 

So much that he felt it drip out.

You sought another kiss from him, sealing your lips together. When you pulled away, you giggled, “Good boy. Good puppy.”

“God,” he shuddered, falling back against the headrest once his orgasm subsided. You fell against his chest, snuggling up to him.

And Choso, not knowing what else to do, pressed a kiss to the top of your head. To his surprise, you didn’t immediately leave him in the dust. Instead, the two of you sat in comfortable silence, basking in the warmth of your post-coital bliss. 

You broke the silence after a minute or two. 

“So…” You began, trailing a finger up his bare chest. “Help me carry that cooler back to the beach?”

And Choso, breathless, felt himself begin to laugh.

The two of you came back onto the beach. Choso was carting the cooler behind while you walked ahead, waving your friends down. 

As you approached, Itadori remarked with crossed arms, “The hell have you guys been?” His hair was done up into two, pink, little pigtails. It was clear as day that Nobara had a hand in his current hairstyle.

“Oh!” You had grinned rather awkwardly, rubbing the back of your neck with your hand. “We– Well, we realized we didn’t have as many spritzers as I thought. Had to make a run to the liquor store.”

Itadori raised a brow. Still, if he noticed something, he didn’t say anything about it. “Uh huh.”

Choso bent down to set the cooler onto the ground, back turned to the group.

Getou peeped up from his paperback novel, lips twitching at the sight of Choso’s back. He nudged his counterpart, Gojo.

Who nearly spat out his drink.

You sat on the beach blanket nearest to Gojo and Getou. The moment your butt hit the sand, you practically collapsed into the ground. 

You could feel eyes on you. So, begrudgingly, you rolled over, throwing Satoru a weak glare. “What?”

He only nodded towards Choso.

You turned around, following his gaze. It settled over his back. He bent down, picking a few spritzers out of the ice. It was then that you noticed the harsh red claw marks on his shoulderblades. 

Subconsciously, your gaze drifted down to your hips, to the skin where purple imprints of Choso’s fingertips stood out as clear as day.

You gasped, then, clamping a hand over your mouth.

“So,” Gojo began casually, handing you a shot. He leaned in, ocean blue eyes twinkling as he teased you, “Was he gentle? He seems like he would give it rough.”

You turned to his not-boyfriend, brows furrowed. “Suguruuu…”

It was with no great amount of satisfaction that Getou looked up from his novel. “Satoru,” he sighed languidly. “Not in front of ths kids.”

Gojo ignored his not-boyfriend’s remark. “Was it big?”

You sank back into the blanket, feeling the heat of your embarrassment burn your cheeks as your words from earlier came back to bite you in the ass.

Who would notice?

a/n: hello there my precious little sugarplums! I hope u enjoyed the first installment of my kinktober writings ( which will prob continue throughout the fall bc I started hella late ). send in requests! there's no part two to this, but I would write one if enough ppl requested it. yk the drill though, comment ur thoughts/wishes below! I love reading them. reblogs are alway always always appreciated bc my reach is ass on Tumblr...

I obviously do not own jjk or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

credits: cover artist(s) unknown??, dividers: @bpdier, @cafekitsune

taglist: @missphanosaur18 , @bontensbabygirl, @megumissunshine, @chocoyanchan, @littlelovebug98, @lucisimpongod, @xochyw, @jaegerstan222 , @electro-supremacy, @mellytheteddy, @clover0310 , @soraya-daydreams, @priussy, @insanehumantinker, @staygoldsquatchling02, @nonksity, @hinata7346, @chososwhoresblog, @mindurownbussines , @hearts4sid , @simplefools , @ynjimenez

wanna join the taglist? | like this story? read more! | requests open!

[thecuriousbeauty]

Traitor-The Present

Chapter Five

Warnings: Gun, violence, physical assault. Smut. Degradation, fingering, slight anal play, spanking, cum play, oral (male receiving), choking.

Summary: Just when y/n starts to think that Harry isn't the old mafia gang's leader, she discovers some secrets about him that makes her wonder whom she really fell in love with.

Word Count: 8.3k

Catch up on the story here: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three*, Chapter Four* ______________________________________

There couldn’t be a better place to be, y/n thought, as she sat beside Harry on the beach side, gritty sand in between her toes and the cool breeze making her feel refreshed. Harry’s arm around her shoulders kept her close to him, close enough that his fresh, masculine scent blanketed her. 

“I want to stay here forever. It’s so beautiful.”, y/n tells him. “The sea looks so calm.”

“It may be calm now, but I feel like it’s getting ready for war. Quiet, and calculating.”, Harry spoke softly, and y/n looked at him, raising her eyebrows. Harry chuckles, pressing a kiss to her temple. “It is beautiful though."

“Well, when you put it like that..”, y/n mumbles. She wonders what goes inside Harry’s mind half the time. 

“I’m hungry.”, Harry says, nudging his nose against her cheek. “Me too, let’s go grab some food. What do you think is good here?”

y/n and Harry talk as they walk to a shack It was located on the beachside, with a live band and people dancing.

"Do you think where we live is unsafe? It's not the first time you've mentioned about me moving someplace else and settling down.", Harry asks y/n, referring to their previous conversation, just before they told each other how they feel.

"Um, I-I'm just worried, the crime reports from our place increases every day.", she quickly comes up with something, and Harry cocks his head to the side, not believing her. "Uh huh. And it’s not because you want me to go away?”

y/n laughs, and nudges his ribs. “Now why would I want that?”

They walk into the shack, and she leads him to a table at the back. She notices two men eyeing her as she walks in. They were swinging beer from their bottles. One of them winks at her, and she turns away, ignoring them.

y/n and Harry look at the menu and decide on what they want to get.

"You don't have to worry about my safety, y/n. I can take care of myself.", Harry tells her. "And I'll take care of you."

She smiles, leaning into his side as she feels cold. Harry was warm. They have their food, and y/n gets up to use the restroom. On her way back, she feels a squeeze on her ass, and shivers climb up her spine. That was not Harry.

She looks back to see the man who winked at her earlier.

"Hi beautiful, want to take it somewhere private?", he grins, showing her his teeth as he runs one of his hands through his messy black curls. A cigarette stuck out between his lips.

"No. Touch me again and I'll report you.", she warns, and the man laughs, looking over at his friend. "Feisty one, this."

"Told you she'd be a good one. You can tell from the rack.", the other guy walks towards them, eyes on her breasts.

"Shut the fuck up and stop staring at me. I'm going to-" One of them grabs her wrists. "Don't tell us what to do, little girl. We will-"

"-Finish that sentence, and you won't have a tongue to say anything again."

y/n struggles to get her wrists free as she sees Harry glaring at them both. "Let her go, now."

"Ah hah, this is getting interesting. Got your boyfriend out to play huh? Show us what you got, man."

Harry didn’t hesitate. He smirked, before he punched his fist straight into the man's nose. He groans and holds his nose.

"Your turn now. Let. Her. Go."

Before Harry could reach him, the guy pushes y/n away with force, and her hip hits the drinks counter making her yelp, her head smashing on a glass.

“You fucking bastard!”, Harry charged at him.

"Oh my god. I told you to keep those douchebags out, Frank!" A lady helps y/n onto a chair, probably the owner of the shack. "Are you okay darling? Oh god, I'm so sorry. They're such creeps, always getting into trouble."

y/n was too shocked to reply. Shocked because of what she was watching. Harry had the man who grabbed her on the ground. He was kicking him, growling. "I warned you. Nobody fucking touches my girl!"

Everyone in the shack watches as Harry beats the crap out of him.

"Harry!", y/n shouts as the other man prepares to swing a bottle against Harry's head from behind. Harry's arm shot up to grab his arm, without even turning back, and with one grunt, he flipped him over, making him fall at his feet with a big groan of pain.

"Harry that's enough-", y/n tried to say, but Harry wasn't listening to her. He was burning with rage. y/n noticed that every kick and every punch he threw was while he stood in perfect form. His biceps flexed while he reached behind him and the veins in his neck popped. What he did to the guys was rough, but his movements were sharp and defined. 

“Who do you think you are Mr. Show Off?” Suddenly, a few other men joined the fight, and they were armed. One of them held a pocket knife, and the other held a baseball bat. Two others screamed as they ran to Harry.

y/n brought her hand to her mouth in shock as she realized something. All these four men who joined now were the ones that were following them, back at home. They were the ones who kept watching them.

y/n wanted to pull Harry into safety, but she didn't have to. Two arms projected out and grabbed one of their necks, while he punched the other one's head, throwing them both onto the wall. He kicked the knife out of the third's hand, and y/n thought he looked like he was flying in the air after the kick made the man slam onto the floor with a big thud.

The last man standing raised his baseball bat, and Harry slams on to him, leaving them both on the ground.

Harry was unscathed. Six men were down, and he continued to beat them up, making sure no one could get up again. A normal man couldn't fight like this.

This was the job of an experienced fighter. He had been in fights way worse than this before. Even if Harry couldn't remember how he could do it, his body was moving out of muscle memory.

This was what y/n was searching for. Some glimpse of him from the past life. The man that everyone was afraid of. y/n now saw why.

Harry groans, looking down at the injured men. "Don’t you dare lay a fucking finger on my girl again.”

All his anger vanishes when he looks at y/n. Her small frame was shaking. He rushes to her, and grabs her wrists. "Are you okay, y/n?"

She nods, looking at the blood on his knuckles. "H-Harry.."

"It's not mine.", he assures. He put his arm around her. "Come on, let's go."

She feels everyone's eyes behind their backs as Harry walks them out of the shack. y/n's head hurt. She wasn't sure if it was because of the injury, or because of everything she saw. What was she thinking? They had warned her that Harry could get dangerous. She was scared.

Harry held her hand tight in his as he led them to their room, and then to the bathroom.

"Harry..", y/n opens her mouth, taking a breath as he looks through his bag for something. "Y-You-"

"There are glass shards on your head baby, let me take care of it for you.", Harry cuts her off, coming back with a bag, it probably had some first aid stuff. It was bigger than a normal first aid kit, but he was a doctor by profession, so it made sense. He washes his hands, and she searches his eyes for the look she saw a few minutes ago. How his eyes were darker, and there was no hint of kindness on his face.

Harry grabs her waist, and places her on the slab next to the sink, before going through his first aid supplies. 

"Any dizziness? Headache?", Harry asks softly, gently taking her face. One of his hands held her chin, tilting it up while his other hand examined the wound carefully.

"H-Head hurts a bit..", she mumbles, and Harry nods. He picks up a pen flashlight and turns it on. "Just gonna check your eyes, yeah?"

She holds in her breath as Harry flashes the light in her eyes, the thumb over his other hand on her eyebrow. She stared into his beautiful eyes, but they remained focus. He kept the pen flashlight away, and put up numbers on his fingers, asking her to follow his finger.

"You're okay, no signs of concussion.", he sighs in relief. "And your wound doesn't need stitches, I can fix it up in two minutes."

"Harry we should talk about-"

"-You're hurt.", Harry tells her firmly. "We'll talk after I make sure you're gonna be okay."

She didn't protest. She flinched when he dabbed the cotton dipped in antiseptic on her broken skin, making it sting. "I know, I'm sorry..", Harry murmurs, gently holding her face. These were the same hands that roughed up the men, but now they were so gentle. He picked out little glass shards with tweezers, and she pulled her face away when it hurt.

"Shh..almost done, baby. Stay still for me.."

y/n sat there, caged between his legs, and watched his face as he treated her wound. She couldn't believe it. He was a completely different man when he fought them.

"That's it, you're all done. Nothing to worry about, that'll heal very soon." Harry gives her a small smile as he finishes applying an ointment and then bandages it.

"Thank you.", she nods.

"Of course. If they had hurt you any worse I would've-"

"-You would've what, Harry?", y/n finds her voice finally. "Y-You beat them to a pulp, they'll need to be hospitalized. T-There was blood."

Harry looks at her while he dries his hands after washing them. "What did you want me to do, y/n? They were hurting you!"

"S-Some of them..I-I knew some of them. I've seen them follow us around. W-Who are they?"

"I don't know.", Harry grumbles, while placing her back on the ground, and she grabs his hands, moving them away from her waist.

"Where did you learn to fight like that? H-How did you disarm them like that? Tell me Harry, please, who are they and why were they targeting you?"

"I said I don't know!", he snaps loudly, and y/n takes a step back, afraid of him. Harry curses, looking down at her feet. "Fuck, I'm sorry y/n, I-"

She steps further away when he tries to hold her hand. "Please tell me what you know, Harry.", she begs, tears running down her cheeks.

"I-I've seen them too.", Harry finally says. "I know they follow me around. There are more of them. But I don't know why. I honestly don't know, baby. I don't know why they don't let me go on with my life! I don't know why they tell me to remember stuff that I don't! I don't know how I can fight like that and I don't know why they're after me."

Harry looks into her eyes, desperate. "But I do know that I'll never hurt you. I felt so angry when I saw them touching you. I couldn't control myself. You mean a lot to me, and I'll never hurt you or stand back and watch as you get hurt, y/n. I would never put you in danger. I-I..I love you."

y/n crashes into his chest and he wraps his arms around her tight, pulling her as humanly close as possible. His warm big hands rub down her back, comforting her "I-I'm sorry for scaring you. E-Everything just burst out of me at that moment."

"T-They deserved it.", y/n admits, and Harry lets out a nervous chuckle, kissing the top of her head. "I will always protect you, sunshine."

y/n trusted him. His words were filled with emotion and she had seen how much he cares about her.

"We'll figure it out together, okay? All the missing pieces, we'll figure it out.", y/n tells him, holding his face and he nods. "I love you too, Harry." She kisses him before going back to hugging him. They would figure it all out.

____________________________________________________

"Just because I let you sleep yesterday doesn't mean you can sleep today!", y/n pokes Harry's ribs making him groan from his curled position in the passenger's seat.

"Talk to me unless you want me to crash us both into a tree.", y/n says, and he opens his eyes, squinting at her. "Aw, is my passenger princess angry?", she teases.

"Shut up.", Harry pouts at her, and she giggles. "I'll give you something to do. I need some rest too."

y/n pulls over, and Harry gives her a look. "Why are we stopping in the middle of nowhere?"

"For a switch. Your turn to drive.", she says, turning the engine off.

"No!"Harry's eyes widened. "I can't drive y/n! I won't sleep, but don't make me drive!"

"You do know how to drive! You have a license. Come on Harry, you can't be that bad. The road's empty, it's all yours.", y/n says, already getting out, and pulling Harry out of the other side. She opens the door for him and pushes him in despite his protests.

When y/n was settled, Harry looked over at everything, adjusting his seat. "Okay. You brought this upon yourself, sunshine. Seat belt on."

She pulls it over herself, and grins. "Let's go."

Harry changes the gear, and starts the car. "Okay, good start-"

y/n's voice cuts off as he changes the gear again, and stamps on the accelerator, speeding down the empty road.

"Oh my god. Harry!", her heart skips a beat as the air slaps against her face.

"I warned you.", Harry smiles, and then laughs. "I missed this!" "I wouldn't mind if you slowed down a bit-"

He only goes faster, and she squeaks, gripping onto the sides. "Don't worry, I got this.", Harry assures her, and she looks at him with wide eyes. "What else do you have hiding? Were you an F1 driver in the past?"

"That would be cool but I don't think so!", he laughs.

Hearing him laugh, and seeing his happiness, she broke into a laugh too. "You're a different breed altogether!"

"This car is amazing! Do we have to give it to that guy?!"

y/n laughs as she reaches to keep a hand on his knee. "I love you."

They sang at the top of their voices, enjoying the drive. "Do you know these routes?", y/n asks him, as he takes a left turn without cross checking with the map.

"Um, no, I just thought this is the better road.", he says.

"Huh. These roads were used for gold smuggling, illegal drug transport and things like that, apparently. They were used regularly a few years back, did you know?"

"Why would I know that random fact?"Harry raises an eyebrow.

"Just asking.", y/n shrugs, and changes the topic. They were planning on staying in Las Vegas for the night. They had found a hotel in the heart of the city, and they planned to spend some time there exploring before hitting the road a little later tomorrow.

Harry goes to take a shower once they get to their room, and y/n calls Uncle Luke. She was happy to know that he was doing perfectly fine. 

The room they got was beautiful, they had a big bed, and a beautiful view overlooking the city. Las Vegas was a party capital. They had to check out some of it.

y/n couldn't find her hair brush, and she thinks she might have kept it in Harry's bag, so she quickly goes through it. Sure enough, she had.

Just as she was about to pull out her hand, it landed on something cold, and heavy. y/n frowns and moves her fingers over it, and it was shaped like a..no way.

She pulls it out, and gasps in horror. Harry comes out of the bathroom at the same time. He looks at her as she stares in disbelief at the weapon she was holding.

"y/n, put that down.", Harry says calmly. "It's loaded."

A loaded gun.

"W-Why do y-you have a gun?", she asks shakily, dropping it. Harry quickly picks it up and puts it back in his bag. "Why were you looking through my bag?", he grumbles.

"Harry! That's not an answer.", y/n held his arms and looked into his eyes. "Tell me why you have a gun. Is that even yours?"

"Let it go baby-"

y/n pushes at his chest. "T-Tell me the truth please, Harry. Stop playing your games with me. Who are you?"

"I-I don't know.", Harry whispers, grabbing her hands and squeezing them when she tries to pull them out of his grip. "The gun is for safety. I told you that those men have been following me, and it's been going on for a long time. Before I even met you. I live alone y/n, what if all of them sneak up on me when I'm not expecting them to? That's why I have a gun. Yes, I shouldn't have brought it along and I should have told you. I'm sorry."

y/n wanted to believe him. "I-Is that the truth?"

"Yes, I promise.", Harry kisses her hand. "I'm not playing any game with you, y/n. It drives me crazy that I can't remember things. I wish I knew why all of this happens to me. You're the only normal thing in my life and you're the only person I have. I would never lie to you. You know who I am, you've seen who I am. I trust you sunshine, I've let you into my life because I trust you, and I love you. I wouldn't keep anything from you."

He pulls her into a hug, and she closes her eyes, holding on to him. She knew he was telling the truth. She was the one lying to him. She was breaking his trust. She was a monster.

"I-I need some air.", she whispers, pulling away from him.

"y/n please-"

"I have some things to think about Harry, please." She looks into his hurt eyes, before grabbing her phone and stepping out to the balcony. Harry didn’t want to let her go, but he understood that she needed some time alone.

y/n called Romania.

"Hello y/n, I was waiting for your call. How is-"

"-Romania, I'm done. I'm done with your memory game and I don't want your money. I can't do this for you."

"y/n what happened?"

"He's dangerous!", y/n whisper shouts. "He took down six big thugs all by himself yesterday and now, I found a gun in his bag."

"What?", Romania laughs. "He fought?"

"What the hell is so funny about that?", y/n snaps, so mad at her.

"Harry has not fought anyone since that incident, y/n! That means he's still in there. He was one of our best. He can take down anyone. Tell me what caused the fight."

y/n explained last night's event to her. "That is fantastic news y/n, that means he cares about you so much that he risked his mask coming off. Everyone who saw him there now knows that he's still someone to be feared. He must care deeply about you."

"A-And I care about him.", y/n whispers. "I know I'm in too deep now, but I can't keep hurting him by keeping this from him. I have to tell him."

"No! y/n you have two more days. I need you to get him to the location and then you're free to go, or tell him, or whatever you want to do. We will pay you double the amount. Please y/n, no one's got this close to him, you can get him to remember. Please. Reagen would want him to remember the memories they had together. He has to remember what happened that night."

y/n sighs, running her hand through her hair and she felt like pulling it out. She thought like Reagen. What would she do? She heard that she was extremely brave. However scared she must have felt deep down, Reagen wouldn't have given up. She probably died to save Harry. y/n couldn't let that sacrifice of love go to waste.

Harry had to remember.

"F-Fine..two more days.", y/n whispers.

"Harry won't hurt you y/n, trust me.", Romania said. "But if you feel unsafe, I can send my men to make sure you're safe."

"No it's okay, h-he, he won't hurt me.", y/n nods. "I'll call you later."

"Yeah. You got this, y/n, I'm-"

She hung up before hearing any more of her crap. How had she got herself into this fucking mess? y/n wasn't ready to face Harry yet, so she went down to the hotel's bar. She had to drink. She needed the alcohol to burn her emotions. She sat there by herself and tipped drink by drink down her throat.

Two days. Romania told her she'd be free to leave after that, but she was sure she couldn't just walk away without a scar. She had a feeling her life was going to turn upside down in those two days.

__________________________________________________________

Harry was jittery. He was sitting on the bed, knee bouncing with stress as he thought about everything. The last thing he wanted was to make y/n feel unsafe. He didn't know what to do. He wanted her to trust him. 

It had been too long since she walked away. Three hours. Harry worried about someone getting to her, someone hurting her. He was scared. He knew the world was full of bad people.

Harry takes his phone out and tries calling her. She doesn't answer.

"Fuck it.", he gets up, and he's tempted to stuff the gun into his pocket in case someone's got her, but he decided against it. That was only for emergencies.

Harry looked in the most obvious places first. He searched the restaurant, the rooftop DJ Party going on, and the bar.

He breathed a sigh of relief as he saw her sitting on a bar stool, sipping her drink and blabbering to the bartender.

"y/n.", Harry says as he approaches them.

"Oh hey Berty, meet my boyfriend! Harry, say hi to Berty!", y/n gives him a big grin, turning around on her stool to pat Harry's arm.

Harry looks at Berty, who gives him a small smile and a nod. "I was just going to ask her if there's someone to take her to her room, or back home if she's not staying here tonight."

"We're staying, and I'll take her. Thanks." Harry looks at y/n. Her eyes were dazed with the amount of alcohol she must have drowned, but she still looked gorgeous to Harry.

"Wait, Harry, have a drink with me, I haven't had one with you since that first week. Berty, get him a whiskey! The fiery kind!", y/n giggles, and pats the chair next to her. "Come sit, Harry."

Berty looks at Harry who shakes his head, and Berty nods, going away. "I don't want to have a drink now, love. Come on, it's late, you're sleepy."

"You don’t wanna have a drink with me?", y/n pouts at him, and his heart melts, so he sits down, but he doesn't ask for a drink. He knows that she is not a big drinker and he caused this now. He felt horrible about himself.

"I would love to have a drink with you sweetheart, but not now, okay? You've had a lot too, let me take you back to our room, okay?"

She nods, looking into his eyes. "Harry?"

Harry strokes her hair back, away from her face, nodding. "Tell me, babe."

"D-Do you..do you really love me?"

A small tear rolls down her cheek, and Harry's heart breaks. He cups her cheek, thumbing that tear away. Harry knew he had done horrible things, but if there was anything in his life that was steady, it was y/n. y/n showed him love, again. She was healing him.

"I do, I love you with all my heart, sunshine. I always have and I always will.", Harry whispers, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. "I'm so sorry for everything, I wish-", he stops talking, and words himself again. "I would never hurt you on purpose."

"I know, that's what I keep saying.", she says, nodding to herself.

"Saying to who?", he asks, confused.

"Romania. You smell good.", she says, smiling at him like he was the best thing that ever happened to her.

"We should go, y/n.", Harry motions to Berty. "Add her tabs to our room please, 401."

"Yes sir, have a good night y/n.", Berty waves at y/n and she laughs, waving back as Harry helps her off the chair and puts his arm around her waist.

"Good night Berty, live your life while you can. Don't be greedy for money, just be happy."

Harry wondered where that came from, while he walked with her out of the bar. He holds her hand tight in his, and keeps his eyes out for anyone following them or spying on them. She leans on him in the elevator, and he holds her close as she mumbles incoherently.

"What happened that night, Harry?", y/n asks, looking up at him.

"Which night, love?"

"On the night you were smuggling the gold? The night you had your accident and lost your memory? Do you remember?"

Harry freezes, and his nostrils flare angrily. He hates anyone asking him that. He was sick and tired of all the accusations he had heard about him.

"I-I don't remember.", he answers coldly. The elevator door opens, and he ushers her out and to their room.

"That's too bad.", y/n says. "I know you don't, but those thick heads don't understand! Woops!" y/n goes off her balance, and Harry grabs her before she can fall. "Careful. There’s another step, there you go." He leads her inside their room, and decides to just pick her up. He easily picks her up bridal style, and she grins, putting her arms around his neck.

"You are so strong, babe.", y/n pats his shoulder.

"You're not at all heavy.", Harry kisses her nose, taking them to the bedroom. He lays her down on the bed, and she pulls him down with her, yanking him by the shirt. "Let's have some fun.", she wiggles her eyebrows, like she was telling him a secret, and he couldn't help but laugh.

"Not now, darling. Tomorrow, okay?"

"You don't think I'm sexy?", she asks, and he kisses her sweetly. "I think you're very sexy, sunshine. You're drunk now, so we can mess around later. Let's just sleep now, we drove four hours."

Harry gets her some water and makes her drink it. "Do you know Oliver?", y/n asks him, as he takes the glass back.

"Oliver? No.", Harry says, while taking her shoes off.

"Oliver Khan.", y/n says. "Or so he says. I heard mafia people have different names, so I don't know."

"Mafia? What are you talking about y/n? One of your mystery movies?", Harry asks, taking her shirt off for her. She giggles. "I wish! It is kind of like that."

"Gonna slip your jeans off, yeah?"

"Uh huh.."

Harry's fingers brush her skin as he unbuttons her jeans, and pulls it down her smooth legs. "He was your best friend. Don't remember, do you?"

"No."

"What about Hans? Strike a bell?"

"No."

Harry unbuckles her bra, knowing she wouldn't want to sleep with it on. He slips one of his shirts over her body while listening to her.

"You were a mafia leader, Harry, you were good at everything. You were smuggling gold that day you had the accident. And your name isn't Harry Turner like you call yourself, it's Harry Styles."

Styles. A mafia leader. Harry wonders how she knows that. She does seem to be sure about that.

"What are you talking about y/n?", he leans closer, cupping her cheek. She smiles sleepily, rolling over on the bed. "I don't know either. I'm drunk as hell!"

"y/n. What mafia? What do you know?" Harry pats her cheek, but her eyes are already closed, and she is out like a light.

He would ask her when she's sober. She knew things about his past life. And he wanted to know what she knew, and why she was hiding them from him. She said they'd figure it out together, didn't she? Now, she was the one keeping secrets.

__________________________________________________

y/n wakes up with a massive hangover headache, and groans, turning over and burying her face into the pillow. What had happened? y/n tries to remember what got her into this hangover misery and then she wishes all of it never happened. How was she in bed now? Did Harry come and get her?

She looks beside her and sees an empty bed. The sheets were rumpled, so Harry had slept here, but he wasn't here now. Or was it even their room? Where was she? She sits up and looks around. Yes, she saw her bag, it was their room.

"Harry?", she calls, hoping he would answer. She had made peace with the fact that he had a gun. And like Romania said, it was good. He is showing parts of his old self and it's only a matter of time before he remembers everything.

Harry appears, holding a cup. She thought it's her coffee, and smiled but it quickly disappeared. "Water?", she looks up at him when he hands it to her.

"You're dehydrated.", he murmurs, without looking at her. "Ibuprofen's there if you have a headache."

She found the pill beside her on the bedside table, and took it, washing it down with the water. "Thank you. Did you um get me to bed?"

"Don’t remember?", he asks, and she scoffs, it's usually her asking him that question.

"No, I don't. Last thing I remember is talking to Berty about his date...um, I thought about it Harry. I understand why you have a gun, I just needed some time."

Harry nods, sitting down on the bed, looking away from her. "What’s the matter? Are you okay?", she asks, frowning, noticing how he didn't spare her a glance yet.

"I'm hungry, breakfast closes in an hour.", he grumbles.

"Oh. Give me just one second to look a little presentable and we'll go." y/n gets off the bed, and kisses Harry's cheek before going into the bathroom.

They go to breakfast, and eat in silence. y/n was used to Harry being quiet, but he would hold her hand or keep his hand on her thigh, brush his shoulder with hers, he would do something. He did none of those today, and he seemed to be in deep thought as he ate. y/n worried whether she had said something to him last night. She doesn't remember one bit of her drunk rambling. Or was he mad that she ruined the one night they had in Vegas?

Probably everything. She kept quiet too. She deserved it.

Back in their room, Harry got some work calls and y/n laid in bed, watching him. She couldn't let him give her the silent treatment for any longer, she had a task to do and it won't work if both of them remain quiet. y/n loves talking and hates silence.

"Harry, talk to me. I'm sorry for running away like that.", y/n pipes up when he was done with the call.

"It was not  safe.", he murmured.

"I was around people, it was safe. I didn't go out of the hotel either. Why do you think it wasn't safe? Did you see those guys again?"

Harry walks over to plug his phone for charging. "No. I don't know, they could've been there."

y/n slowly nods. "I didn't think about that. We still have some time before hitting the road, wanna go check out the streets?"

Harry sighs, finally looking at her. "I don't wanna travel anymore. I want to go back."

"Why?", y/n asks, reaching for his hand. "Harry-"

"-Harry Styles.", he says, making her freeze. Did he remember his real last name?

"You said I'm Harry Styles, yesterday.", he completes. "Something about the mafia, and Oliver Khan. How do you know those things about me?"

His green eyes bore into hers, and she was speechless. Shit. Had she drunk blabbered all that? Had she told him everything? About the money and the deal with Romania?

"Tell me, y/n. Are those true?"

She couldn't tell him the full truth just yet, but she could tell him some of it. She nods.

He groans, running a hand through his hair. "How do you know? And tell me everything you know, right now."

"I um one of my friends recognized you, and they told me all this information about you."

"What friend?"

"Um, T-Tony?"

"What does Tony do?"

"He um...he's in the media.", she stumbles out another lie. There was no Tony.

"I need his number, I want to ask him myself.", Harry tells her, making her sweat.

"I'm not sure if I have his number-"

"Isn't he your friend?" Harry looked angry now, and that's the last thing y/n wanted.

"Was, not anymore. I'll find out his number, okay? I'll uh tell you what I know in the meantime."

Harry nods, not even blinking as he listens to her. y/n told him everything she knew. "R-Reagen died that day..but you lived. T-That's the story.", she completes.

She studies Harry's face which appeared expressionless, then he buries his face in his hands. "I don't remember any of that, y/n."

"I-It might not be true, Harry, that's the story I know.", y/n rubs his back gently. "I-I'm a doctor, I don't do all that stuff..", he whispers. y/n scoots closer to him and hugs him tight. She knew that. She knew Harry in front of her wouldn't do all that.

"That's why those men were following you and they're all scared of you Harry. Even if you get back a small piece of who you were, they don't stand a chance against you.", she speaks softly. He looks up at her, eyes watery. "A-Are you scared of me too? Is that why you kept all this from me?"

"No, I just didn't want to upset you.", y/n cups his face. "I'm not scared of you Harry, I never was and I never will be. You saved me. I know you'll never hurt me. I feel safe in your arms, I feel loved. I know who you are. You're a brave and kind man. No matter what I hear, that's what I'll believe, okay?"

Harry buries his head into her neck, and she wraps her arms around him, cupping the back of his head. "I love you and my feelings are real. That will never change."

"I-I love you too.", Harry whispers. She held him while he processed everything. She made sure to tell him that it might just be a stupid story with zero truth in it. y/n still hadn't told him everything, but she would, in time.

"You trust me?", Harry asks her, and she nods, kissing him. "I trust you."

Harry pulls her onto his lap as they kiss, y/n's hands moving to his hair. His lips attacked hers roughly and desperately. She feels him getting hard, and starts moving, straddling his lap, making him groan. 

"Let me make you feel good, Harry.", she whispers as she tugs his shirt off. She had to distract him from thinking more into Tony or anything else, she didn't want him to get worked up. Harry's hand grabs the back of her neck, pulling her lips away from his. "Get on your knees."

y/n bites her lip, getting off of his lap. She loves when he gets dominant in bed. Maybe it's because she's so busy and in charge of her life, she likes to be manhandled and thrown around a bit in bed. It's like a stress buster. And sex with Harry always feels so good.

y/n gets on her knees on the floor as Harry takes off his pants and sits back down on the bed. y/n palms him through his boxers, and he sucks in a breath. "Go on, take me out."

y/n obeys, her fingers slipping inside the waist band of his boxers, and slowly pulling them down his legs. "You're so big.", she murmurs, admiring his thick, long, dick. She wonders how that fits inside her.

Harry smirks, looking at her as she takes his dick in her hand, stroking it from it's base to the top, dangerously slow. Her other hand played with his balls, squeezing them ever so gently. 

"You're such a tease.", he says, looking down at her. "Wait. Take off everything except your panties."

"Whatever you say.", she pulls away to take her top off, leaving her upper half bare. She hadn't worn a bra. She slipped of her shorts as well, leaving just her panties as he asked. Her nipples were hard, and Harry groaned at the sight of her on his knees for him, ready to pleasure him. He leans down to cup one of her breasts and squeezes. "Are you gonna be a good girl and take this big cock down your throat?"

Harry's eyes were dark with lust, and y/n moans, "Y-Yes, Harry."

"Get to work.", he says, sitting back up. She keeps her eyes on him as she spits on his dick, and rubs it all over. He groans, hands going to hold her hair up for her.

y/n teases him at first, slowly running her tongue along his length, while her hands palm his balls. She leaves little kisses on his dick. Harry was getting painfully hard and frustrated.

"Okay that's enough, put me inside your mouth or I'm going to do it myself.", Harry mutters, not able to handle the teasing anymore. She takes him in her mouth and he lets her adjust, trying hard not to just push it down her throat.

"That's a good girl.", he coos, and curses as she bobs her head up and down his length. "Fuck."

She was driving him crazy. Her pretty lips wrapped around his cock, her gorgeous eyes looking up at him like she only wanted to please him, that was enough to drive Harry over the edge. She moves her head further down, gagging around him, her eyes watering but she loves it. 

"Oh bloody hell, that feels so good. Are you gagging around me, baby?", Harry moans. She knew how badly he wanted to just have his way with her. She pulls out. "Fuck my mouth.", she tells him. 

"Beg for it.", he says, continuing to stroke his dick as she stops. He pinches one of her nipples, and she clenches her thighs together. She was getting so wet. "P-Please Harry, fuck my mouth."

"That's not good enough, try harder baby.", Harry rolls her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. 

"Please make me gag. Make me choke on your big dick, Harry. Use my mouth as you please."

Harry moves both of his hands back to her hair. "You're so fucking hot. Tap my thigh if it gets too much, alright?"

"Yes.", y/n smiles, opening her mouth wide for him, making her jaw go slack. "Your throat's gonna to be sore by the time I'm done with you, darling. You asked for it.", he says before thrusting his dick into his mouth.

y/n chokes as his dick touches the back of her throat, and she feels the sting on her scalp as he moves her head up and down by her hair. He pulls her away to give her a second to breathe, before pushing it back in her mouth, keeping her head still as he moves his hips. Saliva drips down her chin. 

"So f-fucking good for me.", he moans, legs starting to shake as he feels him getting close. He pushed her head down, and tears run down her cheeks as she gags around him, her nose buried into his hound. 

"Just like that, baby, your mouth feels s-so good. I-I'm going to cum."

He pulls her head up. "F-Fuck..."

"G-Give it to me Harry, cum for me.", she whispers, her voice coming out hoarse. Harry strokes his dick, and she opens her mouth to catch his cum as it shoots out. She hums, tasting him on her tongue. 

"Keep your mouth open.", he groans and moves his dick to paint some of his cum over  her chest. y/n sits like a perfect girl, tears running down her cheeks, mouth open holding his cum, and her beautiful breasts covered in his cum as well.

"You look so pretty like this.", Harry strokes her hair. "Swallow."

She does, and shows him her empty mouth. He grabs her jaw to see. "Good girl."

She smiles, pleased with his praise. Her fingers scoop up the rest of his cum on her body and brings it back to her lips, cleaning it off, all while looking at him. "Tastes so good.", she tells him.

"Yeah? Stand up, baby." 

She raises on her legs, and he pulls her in between his knees. He taps her thigh and she separates them. Harry's fingers touch her wet core through her thin panties. "Did you get so wet from gagging on my cock, y/n?"

"Uh huh..", she's tempted to close her legs. "All for you."

Harry hums, tugging on her wrist. "Bend over my lap, let me take a good look at that beautiful pussy."

She listens, bending over his thighs and Harry adjusts her so her ass is propped up and her feet are dangling. 

Harry's hands go to her panties, and he rips them apart. "Oh god.", y/n moans. Everything he did was so hot. "I liked that.", she pouts, her poor panties.

"Sorry baby, I'll buy a new one.", Harry grins, throwing the cloth pieces away after ripping it in half. He spreads her cheeks apart, looking at her glistening pussy. "You're dripping, sweetheart. Oh, look at all that sweetness."

"Please Harry.", she whines as his fingers stroke over her folds, feeling the moisture. 

"You want my fingers? My mouth?", he asks, enjoying her being a mess for him. 

"A-Anything, please." She starts to use his thigh, moving down on it to cause some friction and yelps as his hand comes down on her bottom. "Did I tell you to move?"

"No, sorry.", she moans. "More, please."

"More? You like it when I slap your ass, baby?", he asks, giving her another slap. He groans, watching her ass jiggle from the hit. 

"Fuck, yes.." She gasps as he spanks her again. She loved the pain, and as the sting faded away, she was only left with pleasure. Harry's hand smoothed over the sting, before he thrust his fingers inside her pussy without warning, making her let out a scream and hold on to his legs for support. "P-please, please..", she begs, as he spreads her legs with his knee.

He pulled his fingers away to give her ass another swat, making her whimper. She was getting dizzy from all the pleasure. "Feels good, doesn't it? You gonna cum, baby?"

"Y-Yes, yes..oh.." His fingers curl around her g-spot and she's a mess on his lap as she tries to lay still. It felt so good. "Come on, cum for me.."

y/n's sure she's seen stars, as Harry helps her through her orgasm. All the blood was rushing to her face as she was dangling on his lap. Harry notices and places a pillow beside him, before bringing her up so her head's laying on the pillow. He also lifts her legs and lays them on the bed. 

Harry brings his fingers to his lips, tasting her. "So sweet, baby."

He takes some of it dripping out of her, bringing it to her lips. "Here, clean my fingers, darling."

y/n's lips wrap around his fingers as she sucks on them. He pulls his fingers out of her mouth and brings it back to her pussy, making her whimper.

"What? Is your little pussy sensitive already?", Harry chuckles. "Okay, I'll give you a few minutes. How bout I play with your other hole?"

She gasps as he spreads her cheeks with one hand, and circles his finger over her asshole. She grips onto the sheets, letting out a small whine. "I will fuck you in this little hole one day. I bet it'll be tight like your pussy."

He pushes his finger into her asshole, and she moans at the new feeling. "Harry.."

"So tight, and pretty." He spits on her hole, and pushes his finger back in. "Would you like that baby? I'll fill all your holes up, and you'll take it, won't you?"

"Yes, yes I will. Please." She whines when he pulls his finger out, and he laughs. "Not today, you're very tight and we don't have lube. I don't want it to hurt. Some other time, huh, baby?"

He sits her up on his lap. "I want you to ride me. Your tits look so pretty and perky today, I want them bouncing on my face."

She looks at his dick which was hard again, standing up straight. "That's what you do to me.", he says, and she grins, placing her hands on his shoulders as she gets comfortable. Harry holds her hips, and guides them over him as she sinks down on him slowly. 

y/n moans, feeling him deep inside of her. Harry moves one hand from her hip to her clit, his thumb rubbing slow circles over her sensitive bud of nerves, as she starts moving. 

"F-Fuck, Harry..", y/n's body over flows with pleasure. "Let me hear how much you like it, baby.", Harry says, watching her breasts bounce up and down as she rides him.

"G-God it feels so g-good, so good."

Her thighs were burning, and her body was tingling. His dick felt so good inside her, and if he kept up with her clit rubs, she was going to cum again within minutes. Harry takes one of y/n's nipples into his mouth, sucking on it. 

"H-Harry I'm gonna-"

"-Already? I think you can hold it for a bit.", he tells her, teeth grazing against her nipple as he looked up at her. y/n moans, trying to keep her pace, but she slowed down. Her thighs were burning and shaking with too much pleasure. 

"Be a good girl for me.", Harry murmurs. "You're my dirty little slut, aren't you?"

She yelps as his hand slaps her ass before squeezing the stinging flesh. "Y-Yes.." She tried to move, but she couldn't. "Harry.."

"What's wrong baby? My cock too much for you?", he teases.

"P-Please fuck me, please.", she begs. 

"Since you asked so nicely.", he grins, grabbing her hips again.

Her fingers curled around his shoulders and she screamed as he thrust his hips, hard and fast. She was almost falling off his lap. 

"You can cum, baby.", he tells her, and her eyes roll back in her head as she lets go. Harry fucks her through her orgasm and it hurts from over sensitivity before it feels good again, Harry doesn't stop. "W-Who's making you feel so good?"

y/n couldn't answer. Harry brings one hand to wrap around her throat. "I asked you a question."

"Y-You. You, Harry..", she moans, and her vision goes blurry as his fingers press against the sides of her throat. He was driving her crazy. "T-That's right."

y/n looked so divine, covered in sweat, cum, and tears as she bounced on his cock. Harry released inside her soon, and she cums again. She slumps on him, exhausted and he wraps his arms around her before falling back on the bed, letting her lay on top of him.

They breathe heavily, taking a moment to recover, before y/n looks up at him. Harry smiles at her, stroking her hair back gently, before taking her chin and bringing her close for a kiss. "T-That was crazy.", she whispers. "I can't feel my legs."

Harry laughs, running his hand down her back. "I'm sure it'll be fine after a nice warm shower and a small nap."

"I do need a shower, but you might have to carry me inside."

"With pleasure.", he nods, and kisses her nose. "I love you, sunshine."

"I love you too, H.", she squeezes her arms around his waist. "You're perfect."

After a few minutes of laying down and catching their breath, Harry carries y/n to the shower,  holding her under the warm water. He mumbles praises against her skin as he washes her, and she tangles her hands into his hair as she massages the shampoo into his locks. It was very relaxing. 

So relaxing, that Harry let his mind wander. y/n kisses his chin, looking at him fondly as she continues to wash his hair.

"What's on your mind?", she asks, after a few minutes.

Harry turns the water back on, running his hands through his hair as he washed the shampoo out. "I was thinking about everything you told me. She's not dead, y/n."

"W-Who's not dead?", y/n asks, although she feared the answer.

"Reagen. She didn't die."

y/n felt like throwing up.

"They were in love. Love like you've never seen before. Harry would do anything and everything for her.", Romania's words ring in her ear. Reagen wasn't afraid of anything. She didn't have anyone. Harry was her world."

Maybe Harry was starting to remember things, and his mind didn't want to believe that his love was dead.

"H-Harry, I'm sorry but, Reagen is dead.", y/n says slowly, rubbing his arm. "Only you survived after that night-"

"-No.", Harry cuts her off, staring right into her eyes. "Reagen's alive, y/n. I don't know where she is, but I know that she's not dead. Things..they're coming back to me."

[rosiehrs]

roster | mikha lim.

part one of three.

summary ; excitement was something she was missing and you provided it for her. she thinks you're clueless, but she doesn't know that every move she's made has already been played by you.

pairing ; mikha lim x fem!reader

content ; mikha goes to admu, reader goes to up, mikha volleyball player, BABAERO CONYO MIKHA!!!, hookup culture, half smau...., suggestive, read to see ^-^ !!! taglish w eng translations!

genre ; fluff, angst

wc ; 3.8k

playlist here !!

a/n ; thank u @heybeautifulstranger for helping me translate hehe labyu

mikha loved volleyball. without it, she was nothing. at least, that's what she believes.

she put all her time and effort into the sport, disregarding everything else to improve herself. she was already the star player; every young person in the country was familiar with the name ‘mikha lim’. although the girl was incredible at her sport – that wasn’t the reason why she was so well known.

mikha was attractive. she knew that and apparently everyone in the country did, too. people came to her games to watch her play, but not watch her play. mikha wished people focused more on her performance as an athlete, but she wouldn’t lie and say she didn’t like the attention. support was still support.

“huy, friday night na at nagpapractice ka pa? late na, mikhs. umuwi ka na. (it’s friday night and you’re still practicing? it’s late, mikhs. you should go home.)” her coach advised, putting equipment away. mikha laughed, gripping the ball she held. “not yet, coach. may energy pa ako. (i still have energy.)”

“baka namimiss ka na ng jowa mo. (your girlfriend might miss you already.)” she teased, earning another laugh from the star player. “i don’t have time for a relationship po.”

“oo nga, baka magalit ang mga fangirls and boys mo. (that's right, your fangirls and fanboys might get mad)” she joked, mikha rolling her eyes playfully. she threw the ball over to her coach, deciding to pack up for the night. “i can’t have a jowa when i’m supposed to be the nation’s girlfriend!” she grabbed her bag and water bottle, turning to her coach who was clearly amused by her answer. “i’ll go home na po, night, coach! see you next week.”

“bye, mikhs.”

she gets into her car, checking her phone for the first time in hours. dozens of notifications flooded her phone as soon as she changed her focus from do not disturb. ranging from message requests sent by ambitious and confident (delusional) fans to thirsty comments on her posts to getting tagged on edits, and so much more.

she ignored all of them and immediately checked her messages.

when she said she had no time for relationships, she meant it. but that didn’t mean no time for some fun. she drove home to freshen up and get ready to meet up with her friends.

the loud and busy atmosphere always amuses mikha. while some people enjoy quiet and intimate places, mikha enjoyed the club. 

“lim! over here!” kyle, one of her friends, calls out. she made her way past the sea of dancing drunks and sat with her group. “get me a drink, kyle.” she said, making the group laugh. “wow, hello to you, too.” he sassed before getting up to get mikha’s go-to. “sinong target mo today, mikhs? (who's your target of the day, mikhs?)” evan asked with a smirk on his face. “kakarating ko lang, van. (i just got here, van.) let me drink first, then that question will be easy to answer.” 

kyle shortly came back to the table with mikha’s drink, sliding it over to her excitedly. “thanks, kyle.” she dragged, taking a sip from the glass. “okay, you drank na. who’re you going after?” evan pushed, causing the group to laugh. “what if you just sit and relax, mikhs? it won’t hurt to go a night without sleeping with a random girl.” aiah suggested, foolishly, mikha thought. she scoffed, shaking her head. “ate aiah, where’s the fun in that? besides, i’m not in the mood to sleep with someone tonight.”

“then?”

“baka make out lang... (probably just make out...)”

and that’s exactly what she did.

as soon as she got a little tipsy, she moved to the dance floor and picked a girl up without even trying. she pushed the girl against the wall, her lips on hers and hands on her waist. mikha had no idea what her name was or where she came from. they made small talk before, but mikha didn’t bother listening. she knew where this was gonna lead and she didn’t want to waste time remembering details about someone she was never going to see again. 

she pulled away from the girl, who’s eyes twinkled with excitement. “this was fun, thanks…?”

“jen! my name is jen! but it’s okay if you don’t remember! you wanna get out of here? we can get out of here!” she asked, eager to spend more time with mikha. she slowly let go of jen’s waist, squinting her eyes before shaking her head. “nah, i’m good. you have a good night, though.” and with that, she left the girl alone in the bathroom stunned and embarrassed. 

she made her way back to her group’s table, all eyeing her with amusement in their eyes. “what?” she asked, grabbing a fry from the basket they were all sharing. “who was it?”

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.” she shrugs, grabbing another fry to try and end the conversation.

“maybe you should check your hair and makeup before you leave the bathroom, lim.” kyle teased, catching mikha off guard. “shit, is it bad?”

gwen laughed before passing her a wet wipe. “nakakatawa ka, mikhs. (you’re funny, mikhs)”

“i don’t even remember her name. it was like jane something..?”

“jen?! jen santos?! you made out with jen santos?!” evan yelped, letting out the biggest laugh. “what’s wrong..? she was pretty.”

“yeah, she’s pretty. but she’s like.. obsessed with you. i heard she’s been trying to catch you at one of these things so she’s gone to every club in the area.”

“are you being for real..? what if we’re talking about different jens?” mikha suggested. but evan was quick to whip his phone out and show her jen’s account. “is this her?”

“oh..”

evan let out another laugh, causing kyle to laugh with him. “she’s just gonna keep coming here now! we need to find another place!” they joked, earning an eye roll from her. “she’s probably not that bad, you’re just–”

“mikha!” a voice calls out, catching everyone’s attention. it was jen. she walked over to their table a little too excitedly, standing over mikha and placing her hand on her shoulder. “i think you should rethink your decision, malapit lang ang place ko! (my place is near!) we could dip right now.” she offered, trying to be seductive. “ah.. i’m good, jane.” mikha replied, removing her hand off of her shoulder. “it’s jen, pero okay lang! (but it’s okay!) you wanna sit with me? nakaupo lang ako doon. (i’m just sitting there)”

“i’m good.. i’m here with my friends. you have a good night, though.” she smiled politely, trying her best to send her away. “oh, okay! i’ll catch you mamaya (later)! i’ll get your number or something.” 

mikha simply nodded as the girl walked away, extremely giddy from the interaction. “shit.. no wonder why it was so much easier.” they all laughed at her, echoes of various comments following. “this is why you should’ve listened to me and stayed still.” aiah joked, but meant it.

“next time, i won’t even look at a girl.” her friends snickered knowing that would never be possible.

you were a casual sports enjoyer, being in a sports enthusiastic school – you couldn’t escape it. everyone would go to all the games, basketball, volleyball. it was one of the few things that brought everyone together, but it never came above your academics. 

it wasn’t like all you did was study, you liked to think you had a healthy school life balance, going out with your friends whenever they wanted to hang out, seeing some people here and there. you were able to maintain a good social life with good grades and that was more than some people could wish for. 

and your unexpected ‘attention’ really did help you get through a lot. it all started when you helped your best friend, jay, out with his band, x:o’s set at a local event. they were starting to become popular, their songs being played across the country. they were heavily praised for their good music and well.. good looks. 

x:o consisted of five members, jay, jake, stephen, ricky and evan. they were indeed a group of attractive young men and managed to put out really good music. after the gig, the group’s account dedicated a post thanking those who helped out and you managed to catch the eyes of a lot of fans. 

after the post, your social media accounts started to gain traction, earning a few thousand followers in the time span of a week. you appreciated the attention, but with your focus on school, you were never really active on social media, only posting a few pictures and a few tweets here and there. the attention only grew from there as more and more people started to approach you, later sharing on social media how kind and down to earth you were or how pictures didn’t do you justice. jay teased you for it all the time, joking about how he should be your manager since he’s the reason why all of this started. 

your entire friend group has never missed a gig of theirs, but people only ever pointed you out. you and jay started to gain attention as a pair, people getting suspicious by how close you were, eventually leading to them thinking that you were dating. both of you never made an effort to shut the rumours down as you simply didn’t care. (and it helped jay a little with the people who would flirt with him)

your group would laugh at the posts knowing that you looooved women. you were jealous of jay because of the girls that would approach him; some very attractive girls. ‘i should’ve joined a band’ you would joke whenever a girl would speak to him.

x:o landed a gig at the vault, a very popular club in the area. every weekend this place was crowded, which is why this gig is a big deal. jay was setting up with his band while the rest of you (except angelo) had started drinking. “thanks sa food, ate jho! (thanks for the food, jho!)” sheena shrieked, stuffing her face with the food jhoanna bought for her. “wala yun… dapat magpasalamat ka kay y/n kasi treat niya ‘to. (it’s nothing, you should actually be thanking y/n since this is her treat.)” she glared, causing you to laugh. “okay lang yun, jho! libre kita next time, bribe lang kasi ‘to. (that’s okay, jho! i’ll take care of it next time, this was only just a bribe.)”

“ang daming tao rito, mga walay batasan. (there are so many people here, people with no manners.)” colet commented, kissing her teeth and subtly glaring at everyone she saw. “yun oh, yung naka green, suntukin ko siya, beh– (that one, the one wearing green, i’m gonna punch her–)”

“nakarating pa lang natin, may suntukin ka agad? (we just arrived and you’ve already found someone to punch?)” 

whilst your group started bickering about colet’s impulsive (and violent) thoughts, the nation’s girlfriend had arrived with her group of friends. “guys, we were just here last week.” mikha complained, getting dragged by kyle. “since when have you ever been against clubbing?” kyle asked, “besides, we’re here for evan. supportive friends tayo diba? (we’re supportive friends, right?) our little rockstar, performing at our favourite club. full circle moment na ‘to, guys. umiiyak na ako. (this is a full circle moment, guys. i'm crying now.) ” the girls rolled their eyes at his drama, hitting him with teasing comments about how lame he was.

your two groups were together more often than anyone realised. despite having friends in the same band; your friend groups never came in contact with each other. jay was familiar with evan’s friends and evan was familiar with jay’s friends, but their friends knowing each other wasn’t the case.

mikha slid over to the bar, smiling at the bartender as a non-verbal order. she was here all the time and was very familiar with all the staff. while waiting, she looked around to observe the crowd and her eyes landed on an unfamiliar face. she stared at you for a few seconds, growing more and more curious as she watched you from a distance. feeling someone’s gaze, you turned to the side and locked eyes with the particular redhead. the both of you held eye contact until a glass was placed in front of her. she turned away from you to thank him and immediately turned her head back to your direction, but to her disappointment; you were gone. 

she brought her drink over to their booth, everyone curious about her expressions. “nangyare? (what happened?) you good?” gwen asked, concerned. “yeah, i just think i found my girl for the night.”

“ayan ka na naman. (here you go again.)” aiah sneered, shaking her head. “sino ba? (who is it?)” 

“i don’t know yet eh, but i’ll find out.”

you got back to your group with snacks in hand, sitting down next to sheena. “nakita ko yung atenean na volleyball player (i saw that atenean volleyball player). the redhead.” 

“ah, mikha lim? nandito siya? (she’s here?)” jhoanna asked. “is that her name?”

“yeah, kaibigan ata siya ni evan. bakit? (i think she’s friends with evan. why?)” gelo replied, throwing a peanut into his mouth.

you shrugged and took a sip of your drink, “wala lang (nothing), she’s pretty.”

“her fans call her the nation’s girlfriend,” gelo added, making sheena giggle. “seryoso! (i’m serious!) babaero yan. (she’s a player)”

“ang corny, (how corny)” she added. you rolled your eyes at her, although you did agree. but you did see why they called her that. you only needed one glance to see that she was attractive. 

as time went by, more drinks were bought. kyle was already failing to stand up straight and the band had yet to start. both groups made their way to the front of the stage, cheering as the much anticipated band started preparing for their entrance. “the vault, let’s make some noise!” cheers erupted as the five members walked onto the stage, all their faces laced with excitement and determination. “are we ready to have some fun tonight?” jake beckoned with his bass guitar in his hand. the cheers grew louder, all of you grinning at jay as you saw the excitement on his face, “this is ‘looking for somebody (to love)’, hope you enjoy!”

the familiar guitar melody started playing, jay and stephen immediately getting into it. everyone in the crowd started dancing along as jay started singing the first verse. mikha coolly bopped her head to the music, trying her best to avoid contact with random strangers. you were on the other side of the stage as she caught your eye, her red hair made it easy for her to stick out in a crowd. you admired how elegant her small movements managed to be, smiling briefly as you watched her dance with her friends. coincidentally, she looked up and locked eyes with you once again. a small smirk crawled across her face, pleased with the fact that she had your attention in this crowd. you sent a small smile her way before turning away to dance with jhoanna. she couldn't tear her eyes off of you. she needed to have you.

a few songs after, the crowd seemed to quiet down. “should we slow it down a little? gusto niyo ba? (would you guys like that?)” jay asked, playing with his earpiece.

“this is fallingforyou.”

What time you coming out? 

We started losing light

mikha turned to find you, seeing you leaning on colet. you felt her gaze on you, tilting your head as your eyes met once again. she was amused, but she didn’t know why. there was something about you that was so alluring. she moved to face the band before turning back to look at you, but you were gone. again.

“uh, guys, i’ll be back.” she said, eyes searching through the crowd to find you. “yeah, yeah. have fun, mikhs.” they replied, knowing what she was leaving to do.

she pushed past dozens of people on the dance floor, relentlessly trying to find you. after getting past what felt like hundreds of people, she finally found you standing against a wall near the side exit with your arms crossed. 

“eager, are we?” you asked as she walked towards you. “no.. not really. i mean, you must be though, right? leaving the crowd to wait for me here?” she grinned, standing over you. “who says i’m waiting for you?”

“your eyes are telling me everything i need to know.” she mumbled, hand travelling to your waist. “everything? really?” 

And on this night and in this light

“am i wrong? do you have something else to say to me?” 

you hummed, pretending to think, letting her pull you closer towards her. “bilisan mo na. (hurry up.) i’ve been thinking about you for almost an hour now. my patience is running out.” she complained, ducking her head into your hair, taking in the scent of your shampoo. your breath hitched as her face moved closer to yours, “can i?”

you replied by grabbing her neck and placing your lips eagerly onto hers. mikha let out a breath of content, pleased with the contact you two were finally making. she gripped onto your waist, soothing you with caresses every now and then. 

I think I’m falling, I’m falling for you

your lips moved against each other with vigour, pouring out all of the lust and need you managed to have for each other in a short period of time. for the first time in forever, mikha was excited. she loved the feeling of your lips against hers, the faint scent of your shampoo, how you felt in her hands. she didn’t want to stop kissing you.

you pulled away briefly, placing your head on her shoulder, trying to catch your breath. “you.. i...” she began, unable to form words. you laughed and patted her cheek, not bothering to speak as you knew you’d go through the same struggle. “you wanna get out of here?” she managed, looking down at you with lidded eyes. “i’d love to, but i’m here with my friends.” you answered, the taller girl clearly not pleased with your answer. “please,” she whined, wrapping her arms around your waist to bring you into a hug. “i don’t even know your name, i can’t leave with you.” you laughed, hugging her back regardless. “my name’s mikha, can we go now?”

you laughed once again against her shoulder, shaking your head. “well, mikha. i still can’t leave with you.” 

“thank you all so much! we’re x:o, we hope to perform for you guys again soon! mag ingat kayong lahat! (take care everyone)” you heard from the speakers, causing you to fix your posture. you slowly let go of mikha, getting an annoyed groan out of her. “i have to go, it was nice meeting you, though! mag ingat ka, ha? (take care of yourself, okay?)”

“wait, what?”

“i’ll see you, mikha.” you smiled, locking lips with her once more before you ran into the crowd to find your friends. 

“wait! i don’t even know your name!” 

mikha groaned, throwing her head into her hands. who cares if you were with your friends? she could take care of you (in more ways than one). she stayed there for a few minutes, trying to fight off the warm feeling you left her with. she made her way back to her friends shortly after, evan finally joining them. “mikhs! i was wondering if you were gonna come back. you okay?” aiah asked as she sat down next to her. mikha defeatedly dropped her head onto aiah’s shoulder and sighed, “yeah..” was all she let out.

she felt frustrated, you brought her so much excitement and even if she wanted to do it again (which she did); she wouldn’t be able to. this was the first time she wished she made some sort of small talk before, because other than the taste of your lips and the scent of your shampoo – she knew nothing about you. 

you rushed back to your friends, blindly trying to fix your appearance before reaching them. you saw colet waiting besides the door that led backstage. “well, well, well.” colet began, “nakakatawa ka talaga, beh. (you’re really funny.)” she laughed before dragging you inside. “look who i found. bumalik siya, guys. (she came back, guys.)” you rolled your eyes at her before hugging jay, “good job, jayboy! you did great tonight.”

“eh, pano mo malalaman? nawala ka bigla. (how would you know? you just disappeared.)” sheena joked, sticking her tongue out at you. “i heard the entire set! ano ka ba? (what are you saying) i was just doing something.” "right.. right.. you should fix your makeup, y/n. that something didn't really hold back."

“what?!” you asked, grabbing the mirror jhoanna was holding out for you and immediately turned around in embarrassment. you quickly tried rubbing the lipstick marks off your face as your friends laughed at you.  

“whatever, guys. basta (anyway), good job, jay.” 

he laughed but was thankful for the support. "it's okay, y/n. it's a club! i encourage this behaviour, in fact - i endorse it." you rolled your eyes at him as he slung his arm around your shoulders. "let's go na? back to mine? we can get food and drinks on the way." he suggested, wanting a more intimate celebration. "paano ang mga bandmates mo? celebration niyo? (how about your bandmates? your celebration?)" angelo asked. "we had our little moment na after the show. bukas yung celebration namin. okay lang. ready na ba tayo? (we'll have our celebration tomorrow. it's okay. are we ready?)" you all agreed and hurriedly made your way out of the venue. 

mikha spent the rest of the night trying to find you, not knowing you left from the back exit.

“god, mikhs. who the hell did you hook up with? you’ve been so out of it since you came back.” kyle commented, evidently noticing her friend’s odd behaviour. “i wish i knew, i literally don’t know what her name is. i feel like an idiot, i begged her, for fuck’s sake. i don’t beg.” she complained, taking another sip of her drinking, causing aiah to take it away. “okay, that’s enough for tonight. lasing ka na, uminom ka na ng tubig. (you’re already drunk, you should drink water now.)” mikha groaned at her but listened anyway.

“can you describe her?”

“ganda. pretty. cute. ganda. hot. pretty. gwapa. i don’t know,” she slurred, slamming her head down on the table dramatically. “whatever, i don’t even care.” she continued.

mikha got over you the next day, but slowly, a week went by and you still occasionally managed to cross her mind. she still wondered about who you were and unfortunately still wanted to see you again, but there were plenty of fish in the sea and you know, it wasn’t that serious.

– hope u enjoy..... @yumtooki :3

[sizzlingcloudmentality]

melt

artwork credit: "Croissant au Beurre" by Julian Merrow-Smith

pairing: Dave York x f!reader

wordcount: ~960

summary: wine drunk and with fresh croissants from the bakery you're having French breakfast and sex with Dave

warnings: smut! reader is able bodied, no y/n, established relationship, pussy pronouns, French pet names (mon coeur=my heart, bébé=baby), food is involved but only inserted into the mouth, so kinda foodplay-ish, unprotected p in v, implied creampie (éclair, hehe), implied cum eating, wine drunk Dave dirty talking in pastry is a warning on its own, dm me if I missed any

a/n: I'm in France rn and eat my bodyweight in croissants. This stuff makes horny. Thanks @guiltyasdave for beta reading again. Sending croissants and baguettes your way 💛

divider: @saradika-graphics

Flaky. Smooth. Rich. Decadent. You rip off a piece of the croissant, put it onto your tongue and it melts.

“Is it that good?” Dave asks from beneath you, words slurred from the night at the beach and the two bottles of red.

“So good,” you hum, slowly reaching for the glass with homemade strawberry jam and twisting it open. “Getting croissants straight out of the oven before the bakery even opens? Best idea you ever had, Dave.”

His hands find your waist, then your hips and he adjusts you to his liking. The way you mold in his hands, like the sand you both dug your toes in all night. But you're warmer. Wetter.

“Gimme some,” he orders and you can't decide what exactly he wants some of. You place the glass with jam on his naked chest and dip one tip of the pastry into the smooth strawberry spread.

“Open wide for me, handsome,” you giggle as you repeat what he says to you so often.

His lips, stained from the wine, part, his tongue peeks out and his fingers dig into your skin when all you do is drag the croissant over his tongue and not let him have a bite.

He jerks his hips, letting you feel how hard he has already gotten for you just from you sitting on him.

“Let me have it.” Dave frowns and holds you in place while he grinds up against you, his cock trapped between your bodies.

You whimper each time his movements drag over your clit and you give in. The tip of the croissant, coated in the strawberry goodness slides into Dave's mouth and it melts on his tongue.

Nothing ever tasted better than this, he thinks, dipping his tip into your smooth sweetness.

“Gimme some,” you say, your mind hazy from the wine and the laughter tonight and from the need to feel filled with decadent, rich deliciousness.

He takes the croissant out of your fingers, dips it into the jam and holds it up to your face.

“Spread your lips, mon coeur.”

Your wine stained lips open for him and when the flaky dough slips into your mouth, his cock slips between your folds and into your heat. And you melt.

“Is it that good?” Dave's words are slurred from the wine and your whines, from the smooth and tight heat he slowly dips into and slides out again. In and out, each time a little deeper.

“So good,” you hum and lick the crumbs from your lips. Strawberry sweet, buttery, salty like the sea air. “So… so fucking good, Dave.”

You try to sink down fully, you need him whole, the tingling liquid feeling in your guts demands that you are stretched around him. But Dave won't let you.

“Let me have it,” you breathe softly with pleading eyes.

Dave drags the croissant along your lips, enjoying the way you mindlessly open your mouth for him.

“Manners, mon coeur,” he hums and his restraints slowly crumble like the pastry in his fingers.

“Please. S’il te plaît, Monsieur,” you whisper, your red wine colored tongue licking at the golden flakes.

“That's it.” His hips snap up, one solid harsh thrust filling you, knocking a moan out of your lungs and the jam off his chest. He doesn't care, he knows you'll be licking his skin clean, tipsy and hungry for him.

“Wake them up. Let them hear your… pretty… filthy… sounds.” Each word accentuated with a hard thrust, each thrust making you moan out loud and lewd.

You cunt clenches, now that she has what she wants and Dave grunts. He gathers jam with his thumb, rips off another piece of croissant and fills your mouth as well.

“French breakfast, mon coeur. Eat up.”

You do, suckling on his thumb, swallowing the dough, the sweetness, the tang off his skin, your tongue enveloping his finger, your pussy his cock.

Your mind is filled with Dave, your mouth is filled with Dave, your cunt is filled with Dave, your heart is filled—

“Are you good for me, a good girl? Let me fill you up?”

You nod your head in the rhythm in which he fucks up into you, moaning around his thumb, pulsing at the thought of Dave dripping out of you and into the French linen.

“Ever heard of an éclair?” He asks and leans up, his one hand cupping your ass and holding you up for him to keep pumping in and out of you. His rhythm changes from fluid to stuttering and he licks some golden flakes off your salty skin, nipping at your squished tit.

“Another pastry. Filled. Filled to the brim, mon coeur. Fucking love eating the filling out of them.”

His red wine mouth leaves a stain on your chest, somewhere over your heart, you think.

“Éclair?” He uses too many words, your mind is too hazy, all you know is his name and the heat melting your core. All you see is his sun kissed skin and his eyes. All you hear is his breathing and the squelching.

“Will turn you into my own little éclair. Eat the filling out of you, bébé,” he huffs with a wine heavy mind and strawberry-sticky skin. You look so beautiful, so utterly fucked and sated and you didn't even come for him yet. He'll make you come, with his face buried in your sweet pussy.

He grips your chin, his hips stuttering against you. You feel him grow harder, throbbing, ready. “Say it.”

“Fill me. Fill me up, please,” you whimper and watch amazed how his face contorts and his eyes roll back as he fills you with his salty sweetness, his smooth, decadent cum, you watch him as he melts into you.

find my general masterlist here

thank you for reading, you'll get to be Dave's éclair when you comment or reblog.

find my Dave York masterlist here

[officialaemondtargaryen]

A Fine Line [part 5]

Summary: You've been with Aegon for a little over four years and the relationship just isn't the same. His brother isn't helping the situation, either.

Pairing: Modern Aegon Targaryen x Reader / Modern Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Word Count: ~7.2k

Author’s Note: I'm just going to go ahead and put this on a mini-hiatus because I'm moving in less than a month and I don't want anyone waiting for updates. Please note, I have e v e r y intention of finishing this series. I have been writing this for a year, and while it was my intention to be finished by now, you have to understand that I began writing this after my own long-term relationship began to unravel due to many of the same feelings the reader feels towards Aegon. Over the last year, I was able to successfully fix the foundation of my relationship, but it was a rough journey. I have a very clear direction of where this is going, life is just very hectic. It has not been my intention to let anyone down with how spaced out the chapters have been.

Warnings for the entire series: severe angst, cheating, unprotected sex, jealousy, lying, possessiveness, stalking, manipulation, language, alcohol use, recreational drug use.

Masterlist & Playlist

"I shouldn't have put you through that." 

Aegon's words reached you softly as you removed your earrings and carefully unpinned your hair. He was standing in the threshold of your bedroom, leaning against the door frame; two empty wine glasses in one hand and a bottle of merlot in the other. 

You looked at him through the reflection of the mirror.  His dress shirt was slightly undone at the top and untucked from his slacks– barefoot, he approached you quietly; pouring you both a glass before moving to sit on the bed. You turn to him, taking a glass from his hand, lips sinking into a sad smile as your eyes glanced over at the small suitcase he had packed, sitting next to the door. 

Otto wanted him on a plane to Seattle first thing Monday morning. 

"I always used to wonder why I had never met them," you replied, dropping your shoulders as you took a sip from your glass. The corners of your lips turn upwards as you say, "I thought that you were ashamed of me." 

"Ashamed of them," he countered quickly and rolled his eyes. He reached his hand out and you took a step closer, allowing for him to pull you in. His hands rested on your hips as you stood between his knees, holding his head in your hands. "I could never be ashamed of you."

A silence falls over the two of you as he rests his head forehead against yours and lets out a sigh, holding you tight against him. Your hands move to his hair; softly carding through the thick, blonde strands and he hums in response as his own fingers curl in the velvet fabric of your dress. He lifts his head to look into your eyes and whispers that he loves you. Your hand traces along his jawline until you’re holding his chin between your fingers. His blue eyes are glossy like sea glass and his lips are stained red, both from the wine. 

You can feel his hands slide down your backside, smoothing out the crushed blue velvet until he’s reached the hem. He hasn’t kissed you yet, but his lips are taunting, hovering just centimeters from your own. His eyes are fixated on yours as his fingertips move under your dress, teasing slowly up the backs of your thighs. Your eyes lull shut, feeling the touch that you were so desperate for. 

“I would hope he wouldn’t be foolish enough to–” Aemond’s words were planted within you, taking root in your insecurities and spreading like disease. “He’s been known to be a bit thoughtless in the past.”

You take Aegon’s hands in yours and stop him from going any further. It’s the last thing that you want to do, but you need to know. His brows crease as he looks at you, clearly confused. 

“I need to ask you something,” your voice is soft and unsure as you bite your lip. His expression shifts from confusion to concern as he senses the gravity of your words. 

He nods slowly, gently encouraging you to continue. 

You draw in a deep breath, steeling yourself for what you're about to say. The weight of your question hangs heavy in the air, and for a moment, the room feels suffocatingly silent. “Where were you last Friday night after the gala?”

"I-" Aegon's gaze softens with understanding, voice trailing off momentarily before he clears his throat, attempting to gather his thoughts. “After the gala, Otto and I went back to the office to figure out what to do with Stark International. We’ve offered them everything we can and they still aren’t biting. They agreed to one last offer, and we wanted to do it in person, hence Seattle.”

You study his face intently, searching for any sign of deception, but his expression remains open and honest, his features relaxed. Despite his explanation, that gnawing sense of doubt continued to nag at the most insecure parts of your mind, fueled by the lingering uncertainty that has plagued your relationship for too long. You wanted to believe him, you had no reason not to, but the suspicion lingered; stubbornly persistent, refusing to be silenced by his words. 

He looks at you for a moment and finally the realization washes over him.

“You thought I was–” Aegon’s voice trails off as your eyes meet and you reluctantly nod your head, silently confirming his thoughts. He stands immediately and wraps his arms around you, pulling you into him. Tears instantly well in your eyes. “I am so, so sorry that I made you feel that way,” he murmurs softly, his lips against your hair. "You need to know that you are the only good thing in my life, and I know that things haven’t been the way they used to be, but I’d never do that to you. I’ve just been so stressed lately."

“You can talk to me about it,” you mumble against his chest before you peel yourself from him to look into his eyes. Aegon tenderly brushes a tear from your cheek, his expression almost breaking. “You don’t have to shut me out.” 

“I know,” he sighs and moves to grab his wine glass from the bedside table, gulping the rest of the liquid. He plants himself back on the bed, his shoulders sagging under the weight of his stress. 

“Do you?” You ask, wiping your hands over your face before grabbing your own glass; taking a deep breath to reset before bringing the glass to your lips. “Aegon, what is going on?”

He only shrugs in response and it is then you can see the fatigue etched into the lines of his face; in the downturn of his lips, across his brow, the bags under his eyes. He looks almost unrecognizable. There’s no happiness behind his eyes, no hope. His face is gaunt rather than round and full. He looks miserable– a shell of his former self. His lips are pale as they part to speak. 

“It’s all so much,” his voice quivers, stumbling over the barricades of his emotion. A single tear falls to his cheek. “I feel as if I’m drowning in expectations– in responsibilities that I never asked for.”

All that you can do is listen, despite the way your fingers ached to reach forward and hold him. 

“The worst part is that I don’t even know who I am outside of it,” he continues; his words laced with desperation. “It’s the only thing I know now. I can’t do anything about it because what else would I be? I have no choice.”

“Aegon, that’s not true,” you say and take a step towards him. “You absolutely have a choice if it’s making you this unhappy.” 

“I do?” He scoffs with a bitter laugh. “At the risk of disappointing everyone in my life?” 

“Who are you disappointing? Your family?” A chuckle escapes your lips, “The ones that you kept me a secret from for four years? Who you say are poisonous, power-hungry cunts? That family?”

“It’s hard for you to understand, I get it,” he rolls his eyes and waves you off.

“It’s not hard to understand, Aegon,” your exhale is sharp. “Some bridges are just better off burned.”

“No, it is hard for you to understand,” he pointed. “It’s not just them that I’d be disappointin’!”

You look at him, allowing his words to linger in the space that had grown between you in the last year or so. Your heart cracks at the sight of him. You’ve never seen him like this before; completely stripped of the facade that he often wore. It was almost unsettling to see him so vulnerable. You take another step forward and cup his cheek, your touch tender as it reaches his skin. He looks as if he’s made of glass and he’s going to break into a thousand pieces right in front of you– right in your hands, broken and unable to be repaired.

“D’you know what I mean now?” He asks, his soft eyes meeting yours. 

“Baby, you could never disappoint me,” you tell him after a few moments of silence. 

“But I already have,” he takes your hand from his cheek and holds it in his own. “Is that not what this is about? You thought I was cheating, that’s pretty fucking disappointing if you ask me,” he says with a dejected smile. “When all I really wanted was to make sure that we’d be okay for whatever comes next– a house, a wedding, kids…”

His gaze is once again locked with yours. Your breath hitches in your throat. Years ago, when you had first met, you had spent many nights laying on his living room floor, high, talking about the future. That same future that he was alluding to right now; a house in the quiet part of the city, three bedrooms with a great view near the park, wine in your tumbler at soccer practice while a pale-haired boy– who looks the spitting image of his father– scores his second goal of the game. You hadn’t nailed down a name yet, but you did have a list. 

“Instead, I was pushing you away,” his voice cuts through your fantasy; gaze lowering to the beige carpet beneath your feet. Another tear falls to his cheek. “I’m so sorry.”

You take a deep breath and pull him into you, cradling him in your arms. His head instantly nuzzles into your chest, pulling you as close and as tightly to him as he can manage. His grip is almost desperate, as if afraid to let go, and you feel his breath warm and ragged against your skin. You pull back, holding him at arm's length as you look into his broken eyes. His face is blotchy red, wet with tear tracks down to his chin. For a moment, you just hold him there, your eyes locked, searching for the right words. 

“Aegon,” you say in a whisper. “I love you.”

His eyes soften at your words, lip quivering softly as he moves his hands to hold your face. A fresh wave of tears wells up in his eyes as a faint smile tugs at the corners of his lips. He leans in, resting his forehead against yours, the warmth of his breath mingling with yours. 

“I love you,” he repeats back with sincerity. “You mean everything to me.”

Slowly, Aegon closes the distance between you and your lips meet in a gentle kiss. It's soft at first, tentative and gentle, as if testing the waters; scared to get your hopes up for something more that typically never came. Yet, the kiss deepened, becoming heavy with the need for reassurance. You give in almost too easily, melting into his lips as he pulls you onto him. Your dress scrunches at the hips as you straddle his waist and his hands slide up your back.

A soft moan escapes your lips as your kisses become desperate. Aegon follows willingly; his hands and lips are everywhere. He’s clawing at the neckline of your dress, anguishing for more skin. His lips are searing as he places open mouthed kisses along your shoulder. You can hear stitches ripping, but you’re lost in the feeling of his mouth on you. He’s removed your bra, helping himself to handfuls of your breasts. Your head falls back at the sensation, lipstick smeared lips parted open as you moan. His hands drop to your thighs, smoothing over the taut fabric of your tights as his fingertips dip under the hemline of your dress. He grips the fullness of your ass with both hands before pulling your dress the rest of the way over your head. 

He’s almost irresistible with that full, pink pout. His lips are swollen already, his eyes full blown with desire as you made quick work of the buttons on his dress shirt. In one fluid motion, Aegon picks you up and lays you back down on the bed. As he begins to unbutton his slacks, you sit up and swat his hands away. He whines, head tipping back, as you place a kiss on the skin beneath his navel. His cock twitches beneath his slacks and you smirk; looking up at him with wide eyes as you slowly work the zipper. You can feel he’s throbbing, desperate to be free from his clothing. 

You don’t undress him completely– just enough to allow his cock to spring free. Your tongue slides across your bottom lip as you take his girth in your hand. He shivers at the touch and you look back up at him; he’s waiting patiently, but also looks as if he’s going to unravel. He holds the base of his cock with one hand and delicately cradles your neck with the other, his thumb gently smoothing across your bottom lip. 

“Open,” he instructed and you did so obediently.

Aegon’s head fell back as he forced himself to the back of your throat, reveling in the feeling of your muscles tightening around his thick cock with each time you gagged; his whimpering moans fueling you. Saliva dripped from the corners of your mouth and down your chin, dampening your chest. He watches you in delirium, pushing himself deeper as he relishes in the feeling; not realizing how long it had actually been until this very moment. He was hardly unable to control himself, already coming undone at the seams and you hadn’t even begun.

He quickly pulls himself from your mouth, exhaling a shaky breath as you gasp for air. He’s edging himself, not wanting to ruin the moment, not when it’s been so long since he’s had you. He pushes you back, pressing you into the mattress beneath him and groans at the sight. You’re shy under his gaze– despite the fact that he’s seen you like this plenty of times– you can’t help but squirm sheepishly as his eyes roam your figure. You’re not completely undressed yet, but that doesn’t stop him from admiring you. 

“I’m so lucky,” he whispers with soft eyes, tracing his fingertips along your curves. 

You shiver, biting your bottom lip as his touch descends to your hips. He hooks his fingers under the waistband of your tights, slowly sliding them down your thighs. He lowers his head, planting tender kisses along your inner thighs and knees, leaving a trail down your legs until he reaches your ankles and removes the tights completely. He swears at the sight of you completely exposed and all his; hungry eyes tracing across every supple curve. His hands caress back up your thighs, spreading them gently as he moves lower, his lips following the path of his fingers. Each kiss he plants on your skin sends a jolt of electricity through you, making your breath hitch. When he reaches your core, his touch is gentle, reverent, as if he’s kneeling before an altar. 

He looks up at you one last time, eyes dark with desire, before he dips his head between your thighs. His tongue flicks out, teasing you with a gentle touch that makes you gasp. He works slowly at first, exploring and savoring every reaction he elicits from you. Your hands find their way into his hair, fingers curling into the soft strands as you arch into his touch. Slowly, his movements become more purposeful, more focused. His tongue and lips work in perfect harmony to drive you closer to the edge. He finds a rhythm that makes you tremble, your moans growing louder with each passing moment. 

The pressure builds, a coil tightening in your belly until it snaps, and you cry out his name, your body quaking with the force of your climax. Yet, Aegon doesn’t stop. He prolongs your pleasure until you’re spent; body sinking back into the mattress as sweat beads on your forehead. He removes his mouth from your sopping cunt with a wet smirk. His face is flushed, lips glistening with your essence. He hums in delight at the mess you’ve caused and spreads your dripping folds with his fingers, toying with you. 

“Look at you,” he praised. “How many times can I make you cum tonight?”

“Aegon,” you whimpered as he rubbed circles around your clit. 

He watched intently as you reacted to the feeling of him touching you in such an intimate way. Your back lifted from the bed, arching as his movements became faster and harder. You were closing in on another climax; eyes rolled back, lips parted, hands grasping at the sheets. He pumped his fingers inside of you- one, and then two, curling back and forth until he could feel your body tightening around him. He used his free hand to hold you in place, keeping you still– his fingers twirling around a nipple. Once he knew you wouldn’t be able to last any longer, he pulled his fingers from your core and immediately replaced them with his mouth. Your hands flew to his hair as you pushed yourself completely against his face, hips thrusting as you spew curse words; a tidal wave of pleasure sweeping over your entire body.

Aegon was far from being done with you, however. 

After your body was left shaking– and he had lapped up every drop of cum that drooled from your slit– he was on top of you, once again, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss, letting you taste yourself. Your tongue pushes beyond his lips, exploring his mouth. He whimpers, feeling his cock brush against your hot core. Your hands roam over his body, feeling the heat of his skin, the strength of his muscles. You tug at his pants, and he quickly sheds them, his need for you evident in every movement. 

His eyes were tender as he gazed down to you; lining himself up with your entrance, rubbing his tight cock head over your already pulsating clit. A guttural moan bubbled in his throat as he cursed at the tightness of you. Before he was all the way inside of you, he pulled himself back out and then forced himself back in; filling you to the hilt. The size of him tearing through your walls made you gasp, a sound that was muffled by his lips. His hips moved against yours, each thrust becoming more synchronized. 

The sounds of your moans filled the room, along with the tapping of the headboard on the wall. The sensation was overwhelming. Aegon moves with a tenderness that takes your breath away. Each thrust is measured, controlled, as if he is trying to savor every moment. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him in deeper, your bodies moving in perfect sync. He ducked his head to the crook of your neck as he continued to move, and he knew that he wouldn’t be able to last much longer; not after all the foreplay. Nevertheless, the pace quickens, driven by a shared urgency and need to lose yourselves in each other. His name falls from your lips softly, like a prayer. His breath is hot against your skin and with a shaking moan- he was pulling himself out of you and spilling his hot cum in a line right up your stomach.

Aegon rests his forehead against yours as the last little bit of his seed drips from his tip. He collapses beside you, pulling you close, your bodies still entwined. Your chest is heaving as you try to steady your breathing. He watches you tenderly, drinking in the sight. His lips find yours for a soft, breathless kiss and you moan softly against his lips as your body still tingles from the high of that final climax.

“Let me get you cleaned up,” he murmurs softly, pressing a final kiss to your lips and shuffling from the bed. He pauses at the threshold, glancing back at you with half-lidded eyes. “You’re so beautiful, maybe I should just leave you like this,” he says with a playful smile. 

“Aegon,” you whine, shooing him away playfully. 

He laughs, disappearing into the bathroom to grab a warm washcloth. 

You can’t help the smile on your own lips, bathing in the afterglow of the intimacy you had just shared. He returns shortly after and begins gently cleaning you; his touch tender and attentive as always. You giggled with him, softly joking back and forth together. For a moment, it feels like it used to, and you silently hoped it would remain this way. Though, you were hesitant to get your hopes up knowing that it would be unfair of you to expect change overnight. 

Afterward, you both lay in bed, entangled in each other’s arms. Your head rests on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. You can’t help but think about the weight he carries– the unfair expectations his family has placed on him, the pressure to be something he isn’t and the constant fear of failure and disappointment. You almost don’t want to bring it up, but you don’t want to return to the silence that you had become so accustomed to; the need to connect and understand him outweighs your hesitation.

“What’s going to happen with your dad?” You ask softly, looking up at him. 

He groans and breathes out a sigh, clearly not wanting to talk about work. Not now. Though that reluctance was part of the ongoing problem between the two of you; the rift, the distance, it was all because he’d just rather not talk about it– deciding always to carry his stress alone. He reaches over to the bedside table and grabs his wine glass, swirling the liquid as he contemplates how to answer.

“The man I saw tonight at dinner is not capable of running a company,” you add before he can say anything, hoping to break through his reluctance.

“And that will stay in the family,” Aegon sighs, his fingers trailing lightly over your shoulder as he makes deliberate eye contact. It feels like a warning. “We– they don’t want the truth about his condition to get out. Rhaenyra doesn’t even know the full extent of it. If she did, she could challenge for ownership of the company. As long as she and everyone else believes that Viserys Targaryen is well enough, Otto can continue with business as usual. The second the truth gets out, she’ll come for us all.”

“But how?”

“According to her, she has a trust that was signed years ago– before I was even born– naming her successor in the event that anything happened.”

“Does she?” you ask, searching his eyes.

“She might,”Aegon shrugs, a weary smile tugging at his lips. “I hope she does. My father never wanted me to take over the company, anyways, he’s always wanted it to be her, but my mother swears that he signed a second trust that would name me CEO. If Rhaenyra were to come forth with a trust superseding the one my mother has or if it were to come out that my mother may have forged that document–” 

He trails off, eyes distant as he plays out that scenario in his head. He shakes his head, as if trying to dislodge the thought, and then looks back at you. 

“Can we change the subject?”

You nod understandingly and ask after a few moments of silence, “are you ready for Seattle?”

He sets his wine glass down and pulls you close again, burying his face into the crook of your neck as he wraps his arms around you, “I’m not ready to leave you.” 

You smile to yourself but say nothing as you lightly graze his skin with your fingertips. As you lay there with him in your arms, your mind drifts to the implications of everything he’s just shared. You knew about Rhaenyra, you knew there was some sort of a power struggle, but you didn’t know the specifics. Aegon didn’t want you caught up in it and you were starting to understand why. You had a great career, but Aegon’s position meant security. The uncertainty of his future affected more than just him. You couldn’t even begin to relate to the pressure he must have felt, what little bit he decided to share with you tonight couldn’t have been but the tip of the iceberg. The weight of it all presses down on you, but you push the thoughts away, focusing instead on the warmth of his body against yours.

The rest of the weekend was spent in that very spot; only getting up for more wine, for take out deliveries, to shower– but only together. Aegon didn’t answer a single phone call that weekend, sending his grandfather to voicemail every time. You were living in a haze, drowning out the sounds of the phone ringing with your moans; fucking again and again until you’d fall asleep in each other’s arms. 

The world outside ceased to exist, at least for two fleeting days. 

When Monday morning comes, you wake to find him already gone; a sense of emptiness where his warmth had been just hours before. On the bedside table, next to your empty wine glass, there’s a note written in a familiar scrawl: “Back soon, I love you always.” A small smile settles on your lips as you read his words. He’d only be gone for one day, returning tomorrow on your anniversary. You hadn’t made plans, not with how you had been feeling towards him lately. When he mentioned he had to fly out to Seattle just the day before you were to celebrate four years together, you weren’t even sure if he’d even be here– and now he wasn’t, but with the promise that he would be back in time to celebrate. 

The first year, he had planned a picnic by the beach– it was a chilly early Spring day and the wind was impossible, but it was such a sweet gesture. He was so upset that things hadn’t gone as planned, you remembered how cute he had been, trying to make everything as perfect as he could. The second year, you had both spent a weekend in L.A. where he took you to see your favorite artist perform. And last year, he had sent three bouquets of your favorite flowers to your office and made a reservation for your favorite restaurant. 

Your hopes were already up. 

“You are glowing,” Baela commented with a bright smile as you got to your cubicle. “I take it you had a good weekend. Things with Aegon getting better?”

“We had a really nice weekend together,” you can’t help the smile on your lips. Before you can continue giving your friend the details, you look up to see your boss’ assistant making a beeline for your desk. 

“Ty wants to see you in his office,” she says to you and promptly turns back around. 

You narrow your eyes at her as she walked away and turn your attention to Baela; sharing a knowing look. You hated the way she called him ‘Ty’. You also hated that you accidentally found out they were having an affair; having caught them coming out of the copy room one Thursday morning. You watched as she adjusted her skirt and him replacing his wedding ring– he had to take it off so that he wouldn’t feel guilty. He had made direct eye contact with you across the cubicle walls, and ever since, hadn’t said more than three words to you. 

Tyland Lannister was the type of guy who really relished in being someone’s boss; editor in chief, his name on the door of his private, corner office. The view wasn’t spectacular, but you could tell he was proud of it. He was standing with his back to you, taking in that view as his mistress announced your arrival. She closed the door behind you and you couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle. 

“This couldn’t have been an email?” You joked, knowing that was his preferred method of communication. 

“Did you have a good weekend?” He asks without even turning to face you.

“What?” You ask, utterly confused. 

“Got an anonymous tip that the Targaryens had a little family dinner,” he continues and finally turns towards you, pointing to a front-page proof sitting on the table in front of you. Your heart immediately sinks in your chest. “A source close to the family claims that you were there, can you confirm?”

Your brows come together as you take a step towards the proof, eyes scanning the headline: “Daddy’s Favorite: Insider Claims Daughter To Be Named TargCorp Successor”. Your eyes immediately widen as you skim the rest of the article; a scathing detailing of the exact concerns Aegon had finally opened up about this past weekend. 

“You’re running this?” 

“What do you mean?” Tyland asked incredulously, laughing. “Of course we’re running it! This is the first credible thing we’ve heard about Viserys Targaryen in months. If you were, in fact, at this dinner party, we would be the only paper with an eye-witness account of Viserys Targaryen’s status. Can you confirm?”

“No,” you say firmly, shaking your head. “No, I won’t. If you run this, it’s without my input. I refuse to allow you to use my relationship to sell papers.” 

“Think about what you’re doing,” he warns.

“Think about what you’re doing,” you counter. 

Without another word, you turn sharply on your heel and head back to your desk. Your heart was pounding with adrenaline from standing up to your boss. You’ve never had to do that before, but were proud of yourself for standing your ground. Regardless of your defiance, you knew that there was nothing you could do to keep Tyland from publishing; it’d be on the front page, on newsstands everywhere tomorrow morning. 

And you could already see the fingers being pointed in your direction. 

Immediately you reach for your phone when you return to your desk, hastily swiping across the screen to dial Aegon’s number, but the call immediately goes to a full voicemail box. You grunt in frustration, dialing him again with the same outcome. You find his text thread and quickly send him a message: “Call me when you can, it’s important.” 

Baela is asking too many questions, her curiosity piqued by your frantic demeanor, but you’re too preoccupied to answer her. You excuse yourself and dart into the nearest bathroom for solace.

You pace back and forth, the realization hitting you that this story has the potential to destroy your relationship. It was almost too convenient that this news breaks right after Aegon finally opens up to you and introduces you to his family. Desperation drives you to scroll through the other contacts in your phone. Not sure what to do, but knowing you need to tell someone, your thumb hesitates over a familiar name before you press the screen to call. 

Aemond answers on the first ring, his voice is laced with obvious concern– still, you can’t help but feel relieved to hear it. He listens intently as you provide as much information as you can, his silence encouraging you to spill every detail. 

“Aegon’s in Seattle. He’s not answering,” you tell him, continuing to pace back and forth in the dimly lit restroom. Your heels click on the tile floor, echoing through the empty space. “I didn’t know who else to call.” 

“I’ll take care of it,” he affirms, and sounds so sure of himself that you can’t help but to feel at ease. You have no real reason to trust him, but for some reason, you just do.

You thank him with a sigh of relief, and he tells you not to worry about it. As the call ends, you find yourself staring at your reflection in the mirror. Earlier, you had been glowing with the lingering excitement from your weekend with Aegon. Now, your face was void of color and creased with worry. You turn on the tap and splash some water over your face to alleviate the anxiety that had made you so tense, hoping to be able to return to your work without any more cause for concern. 

Baela is waiting at your desk when you return.

She glances up from her phone, her perfect eyebrows arched high with concern. You can feel her gaze following you as you sit down, her curiosity practically burning a hole through you. 

“Well?” She asks, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms over her chest. “Are you going to tell me what the hell is going on?”

“I think someone is actively trying to ruin my life,” you laugh but Baela’s expression remains stern. Your smile immediately falls and you sigh. “Tyland is going to run a story about Aegon’s family, things that weren’t supposed to get out, and I’m worried that it might blow up and hurt him.”

She remains silent as you continue. 

“He finally opened up to me about everything, Bae,” you say as you hold your head in your hands. “He told me everything and now–”

Baela's eyes widened. "You think they're going to blame you for it?"

You nod, feeling a lump form in your throat. "I don't want Aegon to think I had anything to do with it. I feel like we’re finally getting back to how things used to be and this could ruin everything."

She reaches out and squeezes your hand. You manage a small smile. 

“He’ll understand,” she assures you. “And if he doesn’t, well, I’ll help you knock some sense into him.” 

“Thanks,” you say, squeezing her hand in return. “I just got off the phone with Aemond. He’s going to try and figure out who this ‘anonymous source’ is.”

Baela raises an eyebrow. “You called Aemond?” 

“Aegon wasn’t answering,” you shrug, downplaying it. “I had no one else to call.”

“Are you sure that you can trust him?” She asks. “You don’t really know him that well.”

You slightly narrow your eyes at her, wondering why she’d even ask. “I have no reason not to trust him.” 

“You’re right,” she nods and turns away from you back to her own desk. After a few moments of silence she turns back to you and adds, “I just want you to be careful.” 

“Noted,” you reply, a hint of irritation laced within your words. 

The rest of your day dragged on agonizingly slowly. Constantly checking your phone for any calls or texts from Aegon or Aemond made each minute feel endless. Everything you worked on seemed meaningless; each word you typed felt like it was just pushing you further and further towards writing classified ads in a dingy, basement cubicle with that guy who was rumored to have been blackmailing women into sending him pictures of their feet. 

By the end of the day, you were more than ready to leave. 

As soon as the clock hit five, you grabbed your things and headed out, barely acknowledging Baela’s concerned glance as you made your way towards the elevator. A dull migraine had been building all afternoon, and you couldn’t wait to get out from underneath the harsh fluorescents of the office. The cool, early evening air was a welcome relief as you stepped out onto the busy streets. The walk to the subway felt longer than usual, each step heavy with the weight of the day’s stress.

The moment you stepped through the door of your apartment, you tossed your bag onto the couch and headed straight for the shower, doing your best to ignore how eerily quiet it was. 

The tension in your shoulders instantly melted away as you stepped into the hot water, allowing the steam to envelop you and wash away the grime of the day, alleviating your migraine and helping you to feel a bit more relaxed. Yet, you still couldn’t help but let your thoughts drift back to the conversation you had with Tyland earlier; his threatening words loud and prominent in your mind, drowning out the sound of the water. You knew there was no point in worrying about the article or the implications it could have on your life. You had done everything you could, but the anxiety still gnawed at you. The anticipation was suffocating, a weight on your chest that refused to lift.

With a frustrated sigh, you shut off the water and stepped out. 

The apartment was still too quiet. 

At this point in the evening, Aegon would usually be upstairs in his office, deep into a business call with his advisors, talking money and spreadsheets and accounts. It was something that, just days ago, you were fed up with, but now, you just missed the sound of his voice. You grabbed your phone from the bathroom counter and figured you’d try him one more time, thinking that it might be late enough and he’d be finished with whatever meetings he had for the day.

The phone rang and rang, and eventually his generic voicemail picked up, “the person you are trying to reach has a voicemail box that is full and cannot accept new messages.” 

Disappointment settled in as the call ended. 

You wrapped yourself in a towel and walked into the bedroom, the silence amplifying your loneliness. As you dressed, you couldn’t shake the feeling of unease. The uncertainty of the situation with the article, combined with Aegon’s unavailability, left you feeling more isolated than ever. Desperate for a distraction, you decided to make yourself a cup of tea, hoping it would help calm your nerves. As the water boiled, you checked your phone again, praying for a message from Aegon or an update from Aemond. 

The lack of communication was driving you insane. 

A knock on the front door tore through the silence as you sat at your kitchen table; a now lukewarm cup of tea in front of you. Your heart beat quickly as you quietly stepped up to the door and looked through the peephole to see Aemond standing in the hallway. He knocked once more, and you hesitated. It wasn’t until he turned to leave that you finally opened the door. 

“Aemond?” You ask, voice soft and curious. He turned back, his expression serious but softening slightly when he saw you. You leaned against the doorframe, opening the door a little wider. “Did you find out who it was?”

“Not yet,” he said with a shake of his silvery blonde locks. “Really, I just wanted to check on you. You sounded stressed on the phone earlier.” 

You laughed through your nose and motioned for him to come in. 

There was a small smirk on his lips as he stepped inside that seemed almost proud, and suddenly the atmosphere between the two of you shifted slightly as you became acutely aware of the space he took up in your living room as he towered over you. The air he brought in with him smelled of tobacco and mint gum, and new car air freshener. 

“Would you like something to drink?” You asked him, lingering in the threshold of the kitchen. 

“No, thank you,” he says softly. “Have you heard from Aegon?”

You shook your head, “have you?”

“As attached as he is to his phone, he is surprisingly hard to reach,” he says with a lighthearted laugh. 

He meant nothing by the statement, but suddenly you remember what he had told you on the dock– those words that had been floating around in your head rent free since the dinner party– Aegon’s own brother providing you with a warning of the type of person he knew him to be. As you both sat on the couch, the silence grew heavy with unspoken words. Aemond must have noticed the way that your smile had faded, because he reached over and placed his hand on your knee, sending a jolt of awareness throughout your entire body. 

“Hey,” he says softly, squeezing your knee softly. “He’s just busy. This contract is important.”

“You said so yourself that he’s been thoughtless,” you remind him with a frown. 

“In the past,” he says reassuringly. “In fact, that’s actually part of the reason I wanted to see you tonight. It was wrong of me to imply that my brother may be unfaithful to you. He is an idiot, probably the most foolish twat I've ever met, but it's obvious he loves you. You’ve completely changed him.”

You shake your head and stand up, crossing your arms across your chest as you pace the living room. It wasn't what you wanted to hear. Everything wrong with your relationship with Aegon was because he'd changed.

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” he says softly, moving to get up from the couch. “If you’d like I can go.”

“No, I–” your words are quick, stopping him in place. “You weren't wrong. Aegon and I have our problems, which I’m sure anyone would notice if they paid even a moment of attention.”

“What sort of problems?” He asks after a few moments of silence. You look at him with surprise, not expecting him to want to hear about your broken relationship with his brother. “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to pry.”

“I don’t know who he is anymore,” you say softly, defeated. “You say that I completely changed him, but that's not at all what I wanted. If you had told me four years ago that the guy I fell in love with would become this empty, corporate machine I would have laughed in your face. And just when I thought that things were finally getting better, someone leaked that story and I’m back at square one.” 

Aemond stands up and places his hands on your shoulders and you instantly feel grounded by his touch; as if his touch alone could solve every one of your grievances. You look up at him, softly biting your lip as your eyes carve out the sharpness of his features. You don't know how to feel with the way he's looking at you; you're both uneasy and aroused.

“I’m going to figure it out,” he says firmly as his thumbs smooth over the fabric of your t-shirt.

“Thank you, Aemond,” your voice is barely above a whisper as the tension of the moment blankets you. 

“I should go,” he adds after a moment of silence and you nod reluctantly. 

As Aemond pulled his hands from your shoulders, you couldn't help but feel an immediate longing for his touch. You knew it was wrong, it was more than wrong to feel this way about your boyfriend's brother.

And yet, all you wanted in that moment was to feel his lips on yours.

“I hope you have a good night,” you say to him as you walk him to the door. "Thanks for the company."

“Anytime," he offers a soft nod as he presses the button to call the elevator. "If you need anything, you know I'll answer."

You smile, hearing the real message in his words.

But as if he needed to make it more clear he adds, "and hey, I know that relationships are complicated, but I also know that you deserve someone who appreciates you and is willing to show it.” 

The words hung between the two of you, heavy with unspoken meaning. You both knew he wasn’t talking about Aegon.

For half a second, you visualize pulling him back into your apartment; pulling him in and feeling his touch once again. There were so many things left unsaid, but the fact that Aemond Targaryen wanted you wasn’t one of them. 

But then the elevator doors opened, bringing you back to reality, and without another word he was gone.

Tag List:

@tssf-imagines, @gothicwidowsworld, @possiblyafangirl, @namelesslosers, @toodlesxcuddles, @hiraethrhapsody, @heavenly1927, @chainsawsangel, @ammo23, @hanula18, @5moremin @wintrr13, @witches-of-discovery-a, @arcielee, @excusemebiatch, @callsignwidow, @moonlightfoxx @dissociationnetwork, @tulips2715, @immyowndefender, @neptuneiris, @kaelabear

There are a couple people on the tag list that it won't let me tag for some reason. So if you had asked in the past and you aren't on here, it's because it's not allowing me to tag you/ find your blog. If you are interested in being tagged, let me know, and if you no longer want to be tagged that is also cool! Just let me know!

[willownwisp]

ree's leon valentine's day advent <3

hi everyone. <3 as the leon kennedy fluff truther, i'm making an advent for valentine's day because pookie deserves so much love! everyday, i'll be posting a fic ranging from nsfw/sfw fluff for babu leon, i'll be putting out the scenarios and snippets below if y'all are interested. author's note: i've been meaning to put this out like a week ago when i finally figured out the problem w my account as to why tumblr wasn't letting me reply to comments :( but sadly, college got me so head empty. anyway, i've already got 2 days worth of fics already finished so i hope y'all can give me a read. <3

FEBRUARY 8 𖹭 nice legs, daisy dukes. (vendetta!leon x fem!reader) Leon feels like a creep, fuck that. He definitely looks like a creep. Thirty-six year old in all of his 5'11 glory standing outside his girlfriend's college leant against his Ducati like a dick, carrying a box of those, instagrammable pastries you always like to look at. It doesn't hurt to be sweet. Not when you walk — run, at the sight of him in your preppy mini dress, highlighting those long, long legs. Nothing is sweeter, especially when it's wrapped around him.

FEBRUARY 9 𖹭 starry skies, blue eyes. (re4r!leon x fem!reader) Stars dot stygian skies, the night is young, the moon is high. Leon's heart soars with your every laughter. The way your eyes close and your nose scrunches. God he was so in love with you, he could forgive the fact that the tent should have been up hours ago before night. You swear you remember your knots from your wide-eyed Girl Scout days, and he swears these silly moments with you are what makes life bearable.

FEBRUARY 10 𖹭 cold woes. (re4r!leon x fem!reader) Leon S. Kennedy. The apple of his instructors' eyes (and yours), he's a top graduate in the Police Academy for fuck's sake. He's decimated hordes of zombies in his first day as a rookie cop. Endured military training in the middle of nowhere, he's saved the President's daughter. He doesn't get sick. Only that he does catch a cold at the expense of prioritizing you, his clumsy girlfriend, who forgot to wear a jacket on a camping trip, offering his warm clothes to you. He doesn't regret it, he likes taking care of you, but there's something adorable about your sheepish apologies as you wait on him. He could get used to being babied. FEBRUARY 11 𖹭 love on me. (di!leon x fem!reader) As much as Leon loves the sun, the beaches, the tropics. Oh what he would give to become a beach bum in his next life instead of being smacked by bioweapons day in, night out, and being a good bitch to good ol' U.S of A. Unfortunately, after the events of Alcatraz, maybe he's had enough of the sea for now. He gives himself a pat on the back, takes out a chunk of his savings to go to Japan because you've been eyeing it. You said you were interested in the food, culture, and sights. So why in the world were you dragging him to a love hotel? FEBRUARY 12 𖹭 fill up your cup. (re6!leon x fem!reader) He feels himself spiraling recently, turning to the bottle because a glass is never troubled by his woes. He breaks them of course, can't help it, seems like his life is doomed to him breaking in the end. Fragments of glass scatters on the floor, vodka spills on the floor splashes it around like his grief because his body can only take so much. You arrive as he tries to pick them up, attempts to pick himself up. You whisper assurance, he doesn't deserve it. The way you look at him ardently, the gentleness that is your existence. You empty out his pain, and fill it with love. FEBRUARY 13 𖹭 the thrill, the love. (damnation!leon x fem!reader) He wills his old Yamaha to go faster. Your dainty arms clinging to him, the softness of your touch as his speed breaks the sound barrier. What started as mere curiosity turns into rituals. Secrets that only the both of you know. He knocks on your door at midnight, drives you around town. He scolds you every time your arm breaks free, throwing them to the wind. You don't care, you love the thrill, you love him. Leon admits that there is something alluring to the thrill of the chase. Perhaps that's why he's spent his years chasing Ada, but with you it was different. FEBRUARY 14 𖹭 kiss it better. (di!leon x fem!reader) Leon is a man full of stories, his pain, his peace, his fears, his needs. There is more to him than just being a formidable weapon against bioterrorism. He never was a weapon, just a flesh and blood human, and in his mortality there are scars. Deep within him, and littered in his skin. You kiss the faded slash on his hand, he tells you how he'd got it from when Ashley Graham had tried to stab him under the influence of the plaga. You kiss it again, and what he doesn't tell you is the wave of warmth that washes his entire being, it tugs on his very soul. You kiss the scars because it's there, because it's him, and in his reverie, he thinks you truly are his person.

[corruptedcaps]

Glow Up

Bree adjusted her glasses, squinting against the bright sunlight that streamed down on the bustling beach. She sighed, feeling the weight of her oversized sun hat as she trudged through the sand. Her step-sister, Gina, strutted ahead, laughing with her gaggle of friends. Bree couldn’t help but notice the way people seemed to part for Gina, her golden hair catching the light, her tan skin glowing. Everything about Gina screamed confidence and popularity, traits that Bree lacked and, if she was honest, secretly envied.

“Just stay out of our way, Bree.” Gina had hissed earlier, rolling her eyes as their mother insisted Bree join the outing. Now, as Gina and her friends spread their towels and settled into a sunbathing session, Bree found a spot far enough away to avoid their cruel comments.

She unfurled her large parasol, casting a welcome shadow over her pale skin. Settling into her spot, she pulled out a well-worn book, hoping to lose herself in its pages. But her eyes kept drifting to Gina and her friends. Their laughter, their ease, it was a stark contrast to Bree's lonely corner. A pang of jealousy hit her, sharp and unexpected.

Sometime later, Gina sauntered over, a sly smile playing on her lips. "Hey want to ditch this place and join us?" She said, her voice overly sweet.

Bree's heart skipped a beat. She looked up, surprised. "Um, sure." She said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Gina's smile turned wicked. "Not you loser, I was talking to your umbrella." She said yanking the umbrella out of the sand and walked away with it back to her friends who were watching with glee.

Bree's cheeks burned, and she ducked her head back into her book, trying to ignore the tears pricking at her eyes. She glanced up just in time to see Gina whisper something to the group. They all turned to look at Bree and burst into laughter. Her embarrassment deepened, and she tried to focus on her book, but the words blurred on the page from the tears in her eyes.

The sun beat down on her, and she felt her skin begin to heat up. She cursed herself for not bringing sunscreen, her fair skin already starting to sizzle. She watched as Gina and her friends stood up and headed towards the ocean. Her eyes drifted over to their encampment, wondering if any of them had brought sunscreen.

Bree glanced back over at Gina and her friends splashing in the sea. She looked at her skin quickly turning red and bit her lip, making a snap decision. Rising, she tiptoed towards their area, her heart pounding in her chest. She felt a rush of adrenaline as she reached Gina’s beach bag and rummaged through it.

Her fingers closed around a sleek bottle labeled “Bitchiglow.” She hesitated, then shrugged. “Sunscreen is sunscreen.” She muttered to herself. Squeezing a generous amount onto her hand, she started to rub it into her arms and legs.

The lotion tingled pleasantly, and Bree couldn't get enough. She applied more, the cool sensation spreading across her skin, soothing and delightful. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt anything like it.

She continued to slather it on, losing herself in the sensation. It felt so good that she kept applying more, even though her skin was already covered. She didn’t notice the subtle shimmer that began to coat her arms and legs.

Bree closed the bottle and slipped it back into Gina’s bag, her skin tingling all over. She hurried back to her spot, trying to act natural, but she couldn’t help but feel a little victorious. Maybe this day wouldn’t be so terrible after all.

As the sun continued to bear down, Bree decided to put down her well worn book. She usually loved to read it but the rays felt warm and inviting, and for once, she wanted to soak them in. Never much of a sun tanner, she found herself unexpectedly enjoying the sensation.

She stretched out on her towel, closing her eyes, letting the sun's warmth envelop her. As she did, her body began to undergo a remarkable transformation. Slowly, her tits started to swell, becoming perfectly rounded, a shape she had only ever dreamed of having.

Her nails grew from short, plain, and bitten to long elegant painted talons. Bree's lips, thin and chapped, began to plump, turning a lush, inviting shade of pink. Her ass, usually small and flat, filled out into a firm, shapely curve that would turn heads.

Her hair, a mousy brown, lightened to a stunning golden blonde. It grew thicker and longer, cascading in waves around her shoulders. The transformation was mesmerizing, her hair glistening like spun gold in the sunlight.

Her fair skin, always prone to burning, started to tan evenly, taking on a beautiful, sun-kissed glow. It was a rich, golden bronze, that erased every blemish, scar and pimple she had giving her smooth, flawless skin. Bree had never looked so good, but she remained blissfully unaware of the dramatic changes taking place.

As her physical transformation completed her mental changes were only beginning. The shy, reserved girl who had walked onto the beach started to fade away, replaced by a growing sense of confidence.

Her thoughts, once kind and considerate, began to turn selfish and vain. Bree started to wonder why she had ever cared about the opinions of others, especially those who didn’t appreciate her. The jealousy she once felt towards Gina and her friends morphed into a sense of superiority. She deserved to be admired, adored, and envied.

Her values, which had been grounded in humility and empathy, twisted into something darker. Bree found herself relishing the idea of attention, of being the center of every social circle. The quiet girl who used to avoid conflict now reveled in the idea of confrontation, enjoying the thought of putting others in their place.

She felt powerful, untouchable. Her mind continued to warp, embracing these new, corrupted values. The desire to be kind and understanding evaporated, replaced by a hunger for dominance and admiration.

Bree sat up, feeling an unexpected surge of energy coursing through her limbs. She stretched out, marvelling at the newfound flexibility and grace in her movements. As she glanced down, her eyes widened in shock. Her skin was a flawless, sun-kissed bronze. Her nails, long and perfectly manicured, caught the light with a subtle shimmer. Her gaze unable to miss her now impressive boobs.

She eyes locked onto Gina and her friends still frolicking in the water and then over to their beach area and she quickly put two and two together. The Bitchiglow. It had to be responsible for this incredible change in her but also very likely in Gina and her friends. A small, frightened part of her wanted to reverse the transformation, to return to her old self. But her new arrogant superiority silenced that thought, dismissing it as weak and pathetic. She was done being that person.

Rising to her feet, she strutted over to Gina’s area, her every step exuding a newfound haughtiness causing her head to be held high and her chest to stick out in front of her. Without a second thought, Bree snatched the Bitchiglow from Gina’s bag, a wicked smile spreading across her lips.

Bree sauntered back to her spot on the beach, feeling triumphant. She laid down with a smug smile, basking in her victory as she waited for the inevitable. Her eyes followed Gina and her friends as they finished their time in the water and strutted back to their area.

It didn't take long. Moments later, Bree heard a commotion and loud voices coming from Gina's group. She smirked to herself, satisfied. The inevitable confrontation was unfolding just as she had expected. Gina and her friends, looking increasingly frantic, trudged over to her, anger etched across their faces.

Gina reached Bree first, her eyes blazing. "Give me back the sunscreen!" She demanded, her voice shaking with fury.

Bree ignored her, adjusting her position slightly. "Get out of my light, you'll ruin my tan." She said coolly, her voice dripping with disdain.

Gina's face reddened with anger. "You better give it back, or else—"

Bree laughed, a harsh, mocking sound as she stood, her full height and new figure radiating confidence as she towered over the others. "Or what? The water has started to wipe the Bitchiglow off you, all of you. You're turning back into the losers you used to be." She said as she watched with satisfaction as Gina and her friends began to transform back to their ordinary selves.

Gina's friends gasped, looking at their fading tans and less-than-perfect features. The truth of Bree's words sank in, and her confidence evaporated. Bree's smile widened as she watched them. She had all the power now, and it felt intoxicating.

Gina's face twisted with rage. “Come on girls. We outnumber her. Lets take it from her.” She threatened, but there was a tremor in her voice.

Bree giggled, a sound both sweet and menacing. “Try me, bitch. Without the Bitchiglow, I could take you all without breaking a sweat.”

Gina’s bravado faltered, fear creeping into her eyes. She and the rest of her girls knew Bree was right. They felt ten times weaker now that they lost their shine. Bree reveled in the shift of power dynamics. She turned her gaze to the other girls, who looked both scared and hopeful.

“Now of course you girls can join me and become beautiful again or you can stay with this loser and be outcasts. You're choice.” Bree said, holding up the Bitchiglow bottle proudly.

The girls exchanged uncertain glances, the siren song of the Bitchiglow battling with their loyalty to Gina. Finally, one of them stepped forward, her hand outstretched.

“Tiffany, don’t!” Gina yelled, desperation creeping into her voice. But the girl ignored her, eyes fixed on the Bitchiglow.

Bree smiled, squeezing a generous amount of lotion onto Tiffany’s hand. Tiffany rubbed it into her skin eagerly, her transformation almost instantaneous. Her tan deepened, her hair regained its lustrous shine, and her tits grew big and bouncy. She smirked evilly, the confidence of being a bitchy babe once more radiating from her. She moved to stand alongside Bree, her new leader, casting a disdainful glance at Gina.

“Anyone else?” Bree asked, holding up the bottle.

The remaining girls, driven by the desire to regain their beauty, quickly lined up with their hands outstretched. In their haste, they pushed Gina to the ground. She landed with a thud, looking up in disbelief as her friends abandoned her.

Bree squeezed the Bitchiglow into their waiting hands, watching with satisfaction as each girl transformed back into her beautiful, confident self. They all stood beside Bree, their expressions mirroring her superior smirk.

Gina looked up at the group, her face a mix of anger and fear. Bree looked down at her with a triumphant smile. “Looks like you’re the one outnumbered now, Gina.” she said coldly.

The newly transformed girls giggled and whispered amongst themselves, their loyalty now firmly shifted to Bree. They followed their new alpha over to Gina's old spot and took up their positions as her sycophants. Gina’s reign was over, and Bree's was just beginning.

[magicalmutants]

I BLOCK MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS

Thinking about coming back home after a long and exhausting mission when you’re battered and bruised with aching muscles and you’re so tired that you can hardly put a coherent thought together that doesn’t revolve around sleeping or being in your boyfriend’s arms.

Your feet drag on the floor as you shuffle into your silent apartment and all the lights are off except a dim glow coming from the bedroom, which you make your way towards. You hear the shower running in the bathroom and once you reach the door, you push it open to enter the warm, steamy haze that smells dizzyingly like the shower products Suguru uses as you spot him behind the fogged up glass to your shower. You can make out the hazy outline of his lithe body, his side profile to you as he washes his jet black hair, which provides a brilliant contrast to his pale skin. Almost unconsciously, you shed you clothes on the bathroom floor and walk towards the shower, sliding the glass door open and stepping inside.

Now you see him clearly and in sharp detail. Suguru’s eyes are closed as he washes his hair, his back to the hot stream of water. It’s even warmer and hazier in the shower and you already feel your tired and aching muscles start to relax, but whether that’s from seeing you boyfriend or the warmth of the shower, you don’t know. The steam from the hot water is illuminated by the warm glow of the bathroom lights as it curls around Suguru’s head, almost looking like a sort of halo to your tired eyes. And how fitting that is, you think to yourself. A halo for your angel.

Because that’s what he was, after all— your angel. He was the lighthouse in the dark sea that the Jujutsu world can so often be for sorcerers. He was your home. The other half of your soul. You would always find a way to crawl back into his arms. You find yourself reaching for him, the object of your devotion. You reach for his slick, muscular chest, marred by two scars in an X shape — a reminder that you were his saving grace as much as he was yours. He looks so beautiful. He always looks so beautiful.

When Suguru hears the door slide open, he opens his eyes to find you reaching for him with tears in your tired ones. He immediately pulls you into his embrace as he softly tells you he’s glad you’re home, placing a kiss to the top your head. You melt into his embrace, letting him support pretty much your whole body weight. It’s all you can do to keep your legs from buckling in relief. This is where you belong. In Suguru’s arms, enveloped by him so totally and completely. His scent, his warmth, his voice, his body, him. You feel a lump form in your throat as you nuzzle further into his chest.

Suguru coos at his tired girl as he praises you for how well you did on your mission. He reaches for your shampoo bottle and takes some into his hands and begins to massage it into your scalp, all while you cling to his chest. You feel the tension begin to melt from your muscles as he continues his ministrations while telling you how much he’s missed you and how you don’t have to worry about a thing, because he’s going to take care of you.

Your eyelids get heavier and heavier in the warmth of the shower while your boyfriend’s sweet words swirl around the enclosed space along with the steam, his hands and lips on various parts of your body as he continues to clean you up. You sway suddenly, but he steadies you, letting out a quiet chuckle and telling you to just wait two seconds because you’re almost done.

Finally, the shower is turned off and you’re wrapped in a fluffy towel and sat on the bathroom counter while Suguru gently brushes your hair and teeth and works moisturizer into your warmed skin, all the while telling you how good you’re being for him, how proud he is of you for finishing your mission so soon, and how much he loves you. His eyes beam with adoration, even while yours blink open slowly every so often, forcing yourself to stay awake.

Finally, with a gentle kiss to your lips, and a soft let’s get you to bed, Suguru carries you to your shared bed and wraps the two of you up in your puffy duvet. You curl into him as you finally drift off to sleep, lulled into complete bliss by his soft voice and his gentle hands.

[hulahoopsoupgroup]

𝔇𝔬 𝔜𝔬𝔲 ℌ𝔢𝔞𝔯 𝔦𝔱𝔰 𝔖𝔢𝔭𝔲𝔩𝔠𝔥𝔯𝔞𝔩 𝔗𝔬𝔫𝔢?

siren furina au

warnings: none really (maybe some mild gore? but thats it)

word count: 3.8k

a/n: this is part of @edgeray 's halloween event. i hope everyone enjoys! (also please dont let this flop, i know im not a Tumblr Writer but still)

The waves crashed against the hull of the Alcor, a sea of obsidian in the dark night. Nothing could be seen except the massive ship cutting through the waves. Beidou stood at the helm, navigating through the choppy waters and narrowly dodging jagged rocks that threatened to sink the ship and its crew and drag them to the bottom of the sea. You stood at the starboard side of the ship, tightly gripping at the railing as a few other pirates tried to calm you down. Your face was somehow both pale with fear and green with nausea as your eyes surveyed the water’s surface, looking for any sign of the missing woman that Fontaine turned itself upside down to look for.

Furina had gone missing months ago without any trace. All of a sudden, nobody saw her out and about in the streets of Fontaine. Nobody had seen her ordering a slice of her favorite cake at the Hotel Debord, nobody had seen her at the Opera Epiclese watching the newest drama, and nobody had seen her taking a stroll with her theatre troupe while discussing plans for their newest show.

All the fingers pointed to the Fatui Harbinger Arlecchino. The second word got out about Furina’s disappearance, Monsieur Neuvillette had ordered that the Harbinger be captured and put on trial. The air in the courtroom was stifling. Nearly the entire city crowded into the courtroom to witness the trial, with some people sitting in the middle of the floor and some people even hanging off of the pillars lining the walls to get a better view.

“Where were you on the Night of Miss Furina’s disappearance?” Neuvillette questioned, his voice booming throughout the opera house.

The Harbinger kept a level head, clearly recounting the days leading up to Furina’s disappearance. Most of it was her day-to-day business dealings and duties as a father to many children, but one piece of evidence caught the Iudex’s attention:

“I was right here in this building. My children, Lyney and Lynette, had a rather important magic show. Freminet even joined as a prop holder. A past associate of one of their childhood idols was in town, and they wanted to put on their best performance, so naturally, as their father, I chose to support their endeavour.”

“And how long did you remain at the Epiclese for?”

“Until my children’s performance was through. Afterwards, we stopped by the Cafe Lucine and picked up a few sweets to bring back to the House of the Hearth.”

Neuvillette hit his cane against the ground like a gavel. “May the witness please come to the stand?”

A man of about 40 years stepped up to the witness seat opposite to Arlecchino with a rather accusatory look on his face.

“Your Honor, I saw this Harbinger wait around until the night’s performances were over, hours past what she states, and on my way out, I saw her walk backstage after most of the performers and actors had either left or gone out into the main seating area. I’ve prepared evidence for my case. If you look at the pictures I’ve taken,” he paused, allowing an officer to hand Neuvillette an envelope filled with about ten different pictures, “you will see signs of a struggle, or a confrontation. Observe the scratch marks on the chair that perfectly match this Harbinger’s wretched talons. Look at the broken glass across the floor, undoubtedly used to knock Lady Furina unconscious. There were remains of a liquid on the floor, and after testing, it was determined that it was Sinthe.” He paused to let a shocked gasp emanate from the audience before continuing. “Therefore, I conclude that The Knave snuck backstage and attempted to drug Lady Furina with a bottle of Sinthe. Lady Furina, of course, put up a valiant effort, and The Knave resorted to crude acts of violence, shattering the bottle over her head and rendering her unconscious. From there, she took Furina’s body and disappeared back to her Fatui Headquarters. We know from several sources that the House of the Hearth has had long business dealings with child experimenters and murderers. I fear deeply for what has befallen our beloved actress, Your Honor, and I want nothing more than to bring her back safely, out of the clutches of this wretch.”

One sailor, the taller one out of the two, spoke up first. “We- we were sailing down to Bayda Harbor down in Sumeru to trade spices and sugar, and,” he stopped to catch his breath, his hands on his knees, “we were about halfway there when suddenly, these clouds covered all the stars and the moon, and this fog came over the water, about as thick as a stew. We had to light all of the lanterns on our ship, and we still couldn’t see anything. Then, a couple of our men – there were seven of us to begin with – started complaining of this high-pitched ringing sort of noise. A couple of them started leaning over the edge of the boat as we kept making our way to the harbor, but more slowly this time, on account of the fog. As we got closer, we heard a woman’s voice in the distance. It was- it was piercing, and-” The man’s eyes went wide and he stumbled backwards. Neuvillette jumped up to get him a chair and a glass of water while the other sailor continued the story.

From that point, time became a blur. Arlecchino was sent to the Fortress of Meropide for two months while the overworld scrambled to find any leads. A few frantic sailors came back one night clamoring about the voice of a siren that bore a striking resemblance to Furina, falling on top of each other on their way to Neuvillette’s office to recount their tale.

“So, we heard this voice singing this tune. Alphonse here started shouting at everyone to put wax in their ears. He dragged me below the deck to get sponges, wax, anything to block the sound out of our ears, but it was too late once we got back up. Nobody was at the helm. Our captain jumped into the water. We saw two other men jump into the water despite our attempts to drag them back. The last thing we saw was this…I don’t know how to describe her…phantom looking creature, I suppose, jump up the side of the ship. She had these claws and fangs, the whole deal. She latched onto our last man and ripped his arm off, then dragged his body underwater. The only thing I could hear was his screams, and archons, it was awful. Our ship hit some rocks and started sinking right as the lights of Bayda Harbor came into view. The vessel was ruined, and Alphonse and I had to cling to the rock in hopes that whatever creature attacked us wouldn’t come kill us. I feel like I nearly died out there, shivering in the cold. Thankfully someone heard us shouting and came to rescue us on a raft.”

Neuvillette narrowed his eyes as he listened to the tale. “Could you further describe the creature that attacked you? I believe this may be a lead to our missing person case.”

“I don’t think it was Lady Furina, Monsieur, but I’ll try my best,” Alphonse said, taking a deep breath, “Long white hair, a gaunt face, bony hands…I didn’t get a good look at her eyes, but I think they were either blue or white. Just a very skinny thing. I didn’t see her lower half because she was just hanging off the side of the boat, but from what I could see, her frame was pretty small.”

“I think we have a lead.”

The Iudex then scrambled to find somebody, anybody to sail out into the sea that separated Fontaine and Sumeru to find this murderous creature that had a slight chance of being Lady Furina. Every sailor that he asked nearly immediately shut down any offer of Mora, even when offered billions, enough to support their families down to the seventh generation. By some stroke of luck, Captain Beidou of Liyue was on a voyage that crossed paths with Fontaine. When the Alcor sailed into Lumidouce Harbor, Beidou was bombarded by several officers of the Court of Fontaine, all begging her to bring the mystery to a close.

“Captain Beidou! Thank the archons you’re here!”

“Beidou! Captain! We have a commission for you!”

“We’ll compensate you accordingly! Billions of Mora!”

“Please, Captain! We’ve nobody else on the case!”

The four officers nearly tripped over their own feet the moment Beidou stepped foot onto land for the first time in days. She stumbled back slightly before squaring her shoulders and steadying herself.

“Woah, woah, calm down everyone. I know I’m popular, but you’re gonna have to slow down so I can listen to all of what you have to say,” the captain said as her crew exited the ship, not so nonchalantly listening in to the conversation happening at the docks.

“Captain,” a man with auburn hair and a mustache said, stepping forward, “we’ve had a strange case around Fontaine lately, pertaining to the seas. You see, our former archon, Lady Furina, went missing two months ago. We’ve exhausted all of our leads on land since then, even locked up one of those Fatui Harbingers on account of the evidence stacked against her. A few weeks ago, Monsieur Neuvillette received news of a group of sailors getting dragged to the bottom of the sea by a monster, leaving only two survivors. Based on the survivors’ description, it seems like this ‘monster’ was actually Furina herself. We don’t know what the truth is at this point, but we’ve been trying to get somebody to sail into those waters, hunt down that monster, and bring her back alive to figure out what really happened. We’ll offer you five billion Mora for her capture. Nobody has accepted any other offer, and frankly, we’re running out of options at this point. What do you say?”

Beidou’s working eye widened as she processed all of the information. “Well, I’ve dealt with a god of the sea before, so I think I’ll be fine. I’ll drop the voyage I’m on right now and pass it onto one of my Fontaine contacts. I’m sure it’ll go smoothly. I’ll do it."

That’s when you, a member of Beidou’s crew, caught wind of everything. She trusted you the most to escape from this voyage unscathed, so you were going to keep watch on the deck for Lady Furina while Beidou stayed up at the helm.

The officers heaved a sigh of relief, profusely thanking the pirate before sending her to Neuvillette’s office for more information.

The night you disembarked on your voyage, the officers dragged Arlecchino up from the Fortress of Meropide and let Beidou lock her up in the brig below deck in hopes that the Harbinger would be of some use regarding information related to the disappearance of Lady Furina. Unfortunately for everyone, the Harbinger did nothing except scratch sigils into the wood planks of the ship and say she didn’t know anything.

“I honestly do not know why they’ve kept me locked up for so long after I’ve gone through several rounds of interrogation and told them everything I know,” the Harbinger said whenever you passed by the cell she was held in.

“Well, all I know is that you’re rather close with Furina, and you may be of some use to our case, so that’s why you’re here.”

“Close with her, absolutely,” Arlecchino muttered in a snide tone, “Useful to your case, absolutely not. The only thing I can think of is to lure her in with a slice of that limited 16 slices a day cake. She goes wild for that.” The Harbinger sighed and went back to scratching her mysterious sigils into the wood.

You shrugged and went up above deck, greeted by the stars and moonlight guiding the Alcor through the surprisingly calm waters.

“For everything those sailors said, it’s pretty calm right now,” you said to Beidou.

“I think it’s more like the calm before the storm, sweetheart. Look up there.” You followed where she was pointing, up towards the horizon, where the starlight suddenly died out, not due to the presence of any clouds. There was simply a solid line where the stars went black, and the moonlight did not reflect off of the water underneath that portion of the sky. You couldn’t tell if it was the gust of chilly wind or the eeriness of the dark sky that sent a shiver through your body and made you want to turn the ship around and never come back. But of course, you knew better as a sailor, as a pirate, and you bit your tongue. “I know. It makes me uneasy too,” Beidou said, as if reading your mind.

The Alcor kept cutting through the water effortlessly. The sound of the waves began to dull, becoming a mere echo, similarly to how the world begins to grow dark when one is about to pass out. You kept turning back to look at the stark contrast between the horizon ahead of and behind you, and the sickening feeling that grew inside you each time you looked at the cold void ahead of you.

“I’m getting a bad feeling about this,” Beidou muttered under her breath. As if on cue, one of the lanterns on the edge of the ship went out with a whisper of the wind. Several men on the deck scrambled to relight it, shouting and falling over each other. One man stood with his hands around the lantern, as if trying to shield it from the wind, and others did the same for the other sources of light around the ship. Beidou cursed under her breath, tightening her grip around the wheel and rolling her shoulders back.

“No,” Beidou answered after a moment, “I think we’re getting closer to finding our lady. Go get that Harbinger from below the deck. See if you can get anything out of her.”

“Should we turn back now?” you asked, growing more sick and more faint with each passing second.

You nodded, eager to get away from the eerie atmosphere for even a moment. You took your time descending the stairs to the lower levels of the ship, where Arlecchino was being held. She languidly looked up at you, her red eyes flickering in the low lighting of the ship.

“The captain wants you above deck now,” you said, taking out the key to unlock the cell door, as well as the rather comically large chains that bound her wrists.

“Thank the archons,” Arlecchino hummed, rubbing her wrists, “The air was getting rather stuffy down here.” You led her up the stairs and out onto the deck, and saw her eyes widen at the blank night sky. “Wow,” she drawled, “Oh, you’re all fucked.”

A crew member walked up to the Harbinger, about a head taller than her. “Give us information on where Lady Furina is.”

“You know, after all this trouble, you’d think that if I knew anything about our Lady’s whereabouts, I’d tell you, right?” she scoffed, “There’s really no need to keep accusing me of such things.”

“Tell us where she is!”

“For the love of Celestia, I don’t know,” Arlecchino sneered, “And if you keep insisting that I do, maybe I’ll just damn you all to a fate far worse than that of the sailors a few weeks ago.” Her eyes flickered like embers at the end of the sentence, causing the man to back away and slink back over to his previous spot near the ship’s lamps.

Little by little, the waves grew larger, rocking the ship back and forth like a ragdoll. Beidou’s expression darkened in determination, squinting to just barely see the jagged rocks jutting up above the waves, eager to pierce the hull of the ship and bring it down to the Primordial Sea.

Despite the efforts of the crew, a lantern went out with another near-silent whisper of the wind. Then another. Then another, until all of the lanterns were out, leaving nothing but the smell of smoke on the deck. There was a faint sound of the crew scrambling to relight them once again before the sharp cry of a woman, then the nauseating sound of flesh tearing and bones snapping, before the lanterns suddenly relit themselves.

You stumbled back in horror to see nothing but the woman’s head lying on the deck, frozen in an expression of sheer terror. A pool of blood surrounded it, the dark liquid trailing over the side of the deck and into the black water below. You felt a faint tapping on the starboard side of the ship when you leaned over it, trying to see anything in the water that could’ve killed that woman so quickly, but you saw nothing.

“Oh no,” Arlecchino murmured. You looked at her with a raised eyebrow, and she grinned. “Be quiet. Listen.” You did, straining your ears to hear a high pitched note ringing out over the ocean, belonging to a soprano voice, one that was rather unmistakable amongst the people of Fontaine.

“Oh god,” you muttered.

In the faint lantern light, you saw one of the crew members begin to walk towards the edge of the ship. There was a glazed look in his eyes and a robotic nature to his movements, even as two men attempted to hold him back by the arms with all the strength they could muster. He broke free of their hold, stumbling over the side of the ship and crashing into the water below. One of the men tripped after him, accidentally going down right along with him. The second they both hit the water, the soprano voice grew louder, singing a song that sent chills through your body, as if each note pierced your soul to let your deepest fears seep in.

“I’m not staying here for this,” Arlecchino said as soon as the voice grew louder, “I’m locking myself in the brig this time.” With that, the Harbinger disappeared below the decks once again, chaining herself up and locking the door to the brig all over again.

“Everyone, find something to put in your ears! Block out the sound of that voice!” Beidou shouted, quickly turning around and searching the crate behind her for a container of wax. She put two pieces in her ears and urged for everyone to do the same.

The lanterns went out again. The same sounds of chaos ensued, but this time with more grotesque sounds of flesh rending and the pained screams of several men and women.

The lanterns relit themselves again. People scrambled over to the crates scattered across the deck, fighting each other over who could put the wax in their ears to block out the siren’s call first. All the while, the voice got louder, and her song more enticing, as if the temptress was watching the chaos unfold on the deck.

A few times, you felt something brush against your ankle, wet, slimy, grotesque, like a piece of seaweed winding around your leg when you go swimming in the ocean. But this was different. It was almost sentient. Each time you felt it, your eyes shot down to the planks below your feet, but you saw nothing, only the seemingly eternal flickering of the lamps disorienting you even more as you stumbled along the deck, heart beating angrily in your chest, threatening to jump out of your throat along with the bile that so badly wanted to come up. The sweet song of the siren veered you off course, made you dizzy with some strange, intoxicating desire.

The scene around you became a blur of panic, blood, and shouts of fear and anguish. You’re sure that somebody’s blood had been spattered across your shirt as they were dismembered and dragged to the eternally dark depths of the sea, but you couldn’t be fully aware of it. A sickening dizziness overtook you all of a sudden, and everything became suddenly unbearably overstimulating. The siren’s song pierced your ears as if it were trying to wedge its way through your skull and shatter the bone, a deep ache settling in between your ears as you almost drunkenly slumped over the hull. You could see your heartbeat at the edges of your vision, bright and blurry, as you looked out to the sea and its few waves illuminated by the faint flickering lights on the ship.

An abrupt movement caught your eye, shifting your gaze to a nearby rock up ahead. Through your blurred vision you could see a pale outline on rock’s otherwise black surface. The ship got closer, and the siren’s song grew louder. A sinking feeling settled in the pit of your stomach as the white figure grew clearer and clearer, but still, you tried to deny what you were seeing, chalking it up to insanity and delusions, but your eyes were not deceiving you.

On the rock sat a creature with a human head and torso, with pale blue hair and eyes of two different tones. Her skin was covered in an array of blood, seaweed, and cuts. Whether most of the blood belonged to herself or to others was a mystery, though. Her hands were long and sinewy, with claws replacing where a human’s nails would be. Blood covered her limbs up to her elbows. Her lower half was not human, though; rather, it was akin to the tail of a mermaid, dark blue in color, and glittering in the faint light.

“Furina.”

Your eyes met hers, and it felt as though a predator had just set a target upon you. Furina bared her teeth in one of the most disturbing smiles you had ever seen and pushed herself off the rock and into the choppy waves below.

You began to lose all hearing except for Furina’s song, the sounds of the crew around you fading to barely a muffled whisper. You thought that you felt them try to jostle you out of your stupor, but you weren’t sure.

You felt a sharp pain and pressure behind your shoulder blades as something dragged you over the edge of the ship. The cold ocean water enveloped you, and you opened your eyes, hardly able to see anything except the faint outline of Furina’s face right in front of you. Her serpentine pupils widened in a sick glee as she traced your jaw with a pointed claw and leaned in to press her lips against yours. As she pulled away, you saw a faint flicker of light in her two-toned eyes before the cold, dark waters overtook your senses, and your consciousness faded from your body. The siren had gotten the only thing that she desired at last.

The lanterns flickered out again.

[nanamis-princess]

“What’s wrong?”

Synopsis: zoro notices you aren’t being yourself recently.

Zoro x reader (can be seen as platonic or romantic) slight sanji x reader

Tw: mentions of alcohol, non specified problem, no use of y/n & spelling mistakes that I might’ve missed.

Zoro may have no sense in direction or relationships but he notices when something is bothering you.

Not in a creepy way but he’s kept tabs on you once he noticed you weren’t being yourself. He asks you what’s going on. He also makes sure no one is around so he doesn’t put you in the spotlight. “What’s wrong with you? You are never this quiet” he asks from his sleeping spot. zoro glances at you and then ties his bandanna on his shoulder. No matter what the problem is he is all ears, and no, he might not know what to say. But if getting it out makes you feel better he will listen to you. If he has any advice and you’re willing to hear it he’ll say it. “Well it sounds like you are putting too much on yourself. You are apart of this crew you don’t have to do everything alone.” He says slightly glancing at you and then back out to sea. Chopper shortly after comes onto the deck “come on guys the dinner is ready” he says in a cheerful tone.

Once you make your way to the dining area and get situated in your seat Sanji greets you with smile “hello sweetheart”. He places your plate in front of you and fills your glass of water. “If you need anything let me know (gorgeous/handsome)” he says with a soft smile before walking back zoro almost bumps into him. “Watch where your going moss head” Sanji spats. Zoro let’s out a tsk and mumbles about Sanji before sitting next to you. Zoro puts a empty glass in front of you and motions to the bottle “want some?” he asks as he opens the alcohol. Over Luffy & Ussop playful loudness nobody was paying attention to the interaction except Sanji.

A/n: Yippie i posted🤠 i kinda like this post. What do y’all think?

[violets-and-books]

The Crows at the beach

Kaz:

Ultimate mum friend

Doesn't go near the water but finds a spot for all their stuff and guards it with his life

Has 7 individual water bottles, each named and coloured a different colour

The only time you will ever see him in a T-shirt

This man wears jeans to the beach and you can't change my mind

Has 5 towels and also a picnic blanket to sit on

Has individual snacks for each person in tupperware

Only ever gets up from his seat to chase Jesper up and down the beach with suncream

Will deny being a mum friend no matter what but everyone knows the truth

Inej:

Sits with her sunnies on a towel and reads a book

Has an appropriate amount of suncream on and never forgets to top up

Buys everyone ice creams at the end of the day

Plays volleyball and tennis with Jesper, Nina and Matthias

Wades in the shallows with Jesper and splashes him a lot

Tries to tease Kaz into building a sandcastle with her

Convinces Nina to put suncream on

Wears a cute top and shorts

Jesper:

Speedo. He wears a speedo (much to everyone's disappointment)

Refuses to wear suncream but after being chased all along the length and breadth of the beach by Kaz gives in

Teases Wylan on the car ride there and back and gets a towel in the face both times

Once he gets in the sea, you have to fish him out with a net

Plays volleyball and tennis with Inej, Nina and Matthias. He and Inej lose. Jesper's a sore loser

Decorates Wylan and Kuwei's sandcastles

Wylan:

Takes about 100 pictures of the beach, the sky, the sea, everything

Wears a T-shirt, swim shorts and sunnies

Will throw sand at anyone if provoked

Doesn't go in the water until Jesper drags him into the shallows. Then you can't get him out

Searches for rock pools with Kuwei

Finds and keeps any shiny rocks or shells or pieces of sea glass he finds

Has a very serious sandcastle-building competition with Kuwei

Tries to get Kaz to judge the competition and fails

Pushes Kuwei over in the shallows and then runs for his life

Nina:

Wears a bikini and one of those massive floppy hats

Will not put suncream on, she wants to tan

Immediately throws herself down on a towel to sunbathe and falls asleep

Buys everyone fish and chips at lunch

Plays loads of sports with Matthias, Inej and Jesper

Takes a load of beach selfies

Will swim but only if she's not swimming alone

Buys one of those ships in bottles you get from the seaside. She has seven already

Won't drink water unless cajoled into it

Tries and fails to get Matthias to recreate a scene from Titanic

Always complains about being hungry and wanting ice cream

Matthias:

Tried to wear jeans to the beach but was attacked by Nina and a pair of swimming trunks

Spends most of his time building a model of the Ice Court in the sand

Puts on way too much suncream

Complains about the heat to anyone who will listen (no one does)

Don't let him near the water, you'll lose him forever

Judges Wylan and Kuwei's sandcastle competition

Decides it's a draw (so he doesn't get murdered by either)

Absolutely thrashes Jesper at volleyball, tennis and pretty much any sport Jesper challenges him to

Tries to climb the rocks in his swimming trunks and nothing else

Convinces Nina to drink water

Kuwei:

Has swimming trunks with little flames on them

Goes searching in rock pools with Wylan

Snorkels for hours but gets too excited whenever he sees a fish and swallows a mouthful of water

Chases Wylan for half an hour after he pushed him in the shallows

Collects shells only to lose them before they go home

Talks to Wylan about all the fish he's seen. They try to identify them

Tries flirting with Jesper and gets pushed in the shallows (again) because of it

Builds too many sandcastles and then destroys them all on purpose, laughing at the chaos

Climbs one rock and declares himself King of the World

[sashaisready]

This Must Be The Place: Chapter 14 - Eyes that light up

Biker!Bucky x Femme Reader

Back at your beloved late grandmother's home to pack up her house, you have a run-in with the town's biker gang 'The Howling Commandos' and find yourself entangled with the metal armed President.

Series Masterlist

Warnings: whew sorry this one gets heavy, drunkenness, elements of noncon/drunken sexual assault (not graphic), violence against reader (accidental), angsty angst

Hi again. As the warnings suggest, this is quite a heavy one - so take care ❤️ We are getting towards the end so things are going to go up a gear. As always, your reblogs and comments mean the world - I love that people are engaging with this story.

As you prodded at your dessert with your spoon, you couldn’t help but wonder just how much wine Peter had knocked back on this date.

He was slurring, spilling a few drops from his glass onto the tablecloth as he gesticulated. His once crisp button-down now looked crumpled, his styled hair now dishevelled with loose strands escaping whatever product he’d put into it. He was just…off.

“You okay?” you asked cautiously after he’d managed to elbow his fork onto the floor.

“Fine! I’mfi---Fine!” he replied cheerily, his voice shrill.

You cocked an eyebrow as you looked over at his wine glass, still firmly encased between his fingers protectively as if you were going to try pry it out of his hand.

“How…how much have you had to drink?” you asked.

“Notmu-Not much!” he shrugged too casually, “Few glasses is’all”.

You frowned, grabbing the clearly-too-light bottle from the ice bucket next to the table. You gasped as you shook it and flipped it upside down.

“Peter! This is empty…I’ve had barely had a glass and a half, what the hell?!” you spat.

He rolled his eyes, “Oh relax…It’s not a big bottle…”

“And you had those two beers…and that cocktail with dessert. Jesus Christ, Peter! Why did you even get a bottle? Didn’t you drive here? How are you going to get home like this?”

“Baby…baby…relax, relaaaaax”, he placated a bit too loudly, causing a few other diners to glance over at you, much to your embarrassment. “I’m fine. I’ll roll the window down, driveslo---drive slow. All good in the hood…” he slurred.

You grimaced and shook your head as you leaned over to try and stay discreet, “Not like that, you won’t. You might cause an accident…it’s not safe. And if the cops catch you, that’s your license gone! And that could risk your job!”

“I’m fiiiiine”, he moaned loudly.

“This is a nice place, Peter”, you hissed quietly.

You signalled to the waiter to get the bill and leaned back over. “I’ll drive you home, okay? You can come get your car in the morning after you’ve slept it off…”

“Wooo! Sexy Uber driver,” he exclaimed loudly.

You frowned, embarrassment colouring your cheeks. You gave him a small warning jab on the shoulder as the two of you became the centre of attention once again.

The waiter hurried over with the check, clearly keen to usher you out as soon as possible. You apologised profusely as you quickly gave him your card and signed for the bill, while Peter was still trying to pull his own wallet from his pocket – sending a sea of loose change clattering across the table.

“Oh my god”, you whispered to yourself in mortification as Peter fruitlessly tried to scoop up the rolling pennies and nickels.

“C’mon, let’s go…” you hissed as you stood and tugged him out of his seat, frogmarching him towards the door and smiling apologetically at the staff as you passed.

“I gotta tip…” he garbled as he showed you the pile of coins he’d rescued.

“I took care of it; you get the next one…”

“I can’t let you paaay,” he wailed as you tried to prop up his weight on your shoulders. His legs suddenly seemed to have lost their full function.

“How are you this drunk?” you growled as you got out to the parking lot.

“I may have had a few…few beers with the guys before we met,” he admitted sheepishly.

The anger and shame bubbled within you as you somehow managed to bundle him into Sally. This wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go, so much for your big plans. What was this, exactly? A one-off fuck-up, or is this who Peter truly was?

He did fall asleep on the couch after a few glasses of wine on your movie night, but who doesn’t?

You drove towards his place in silence, quietly seething. Maybe he just had a bad night, made an error in judgement, but you couldn’t deny the cavalier approach to drink-driving was a huge turn-off. He could’ve damn near killed someone if you hadn’t intervened! And why the hell was he getting trashed with his buddies right before your fancy dinner? Maybe if he’d admitted he’d overdone it and organised a cab or asked you for a ride that would be different, but he was just going to try style it out! Did he do this often?

You didn’t like to write people off for making mistakes, but it felt like something had fundamentally shifted between the two of you. It was like getting the ick on steroids.

What was with the men in this town??

Your thoughts were interrupted by a loud snort, and you looked over at the passenger seat to find Peter passed out, snoring heavily.

You rolled your eyes. “Great…” you whispered sarcastically to yourself.

*

The drive to Peter’s house took longer than expected. He lived right on the edges of town, just off the interstate, and having only been there once or twice – you’d forgotten how long the journey was. You yawned and cranked up the radio until you finally pulled up at his house. You checked your phone and frowned as you saw the battery percentage was down to single figures. You’d meant to charge it before you left. But you had bigger fish to fry for the moment.

“Peter…” you said softly as you put Sally in park.

No response.

“Peter?”

Radio silence.

“PETER!” you yelled as your patience evaporated, elbowing him harshly from across the seats.

He jumped and yelped at his rude awakening, twisting himself around in his seat as he took in his surroundings.

“We’re at your place, you got your house keys? You good to go?” you asked, your tone like a parent wearily questioning a child.

He slurred and mumbled something unintelligible; the impromptu nap having done nothing for his sobriety. He patted at his pockets, slowly pulling out his wallet and opening the car door. He unclipped his seatbelt and inelegantly stumbled out of the vehicle, his foot catching at the door base as he slipped and fell to the ground.

You suppressed a sigh and got out of your side of the car, rushing around to help him up and grab the keys that had fallen into the dirt below. You grunted as you exerted yourself pulling him to his feet, guiding him to the front door.

“Okay…alright…nearly there, let’s go” you tried to coo supportively.

His fingers couldn’t manage the mechanism of the lock, so you used the keys to open the door for him, he practically fell across the threshold taking you with him.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” you chanted as you steadied your weight and stopped the two of you from hitting the floor. You manoeuvred yourself to prop him up, ushering him into the living room. Once there, you swung his body so that he fell onto the couch. He groaned as he clumsily spread out across the cushions, curling up and facing the wall.

You sighed and went to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and traipsing back into the living room towards his pathetic form.

“Drink this…and sleep”, you commanded.

You leaned over him to put the water bottle in his hand. You squeaked as he suddenly jolted up, pulling you down on top of him.

“Baby…” he slurred heavily.

“Peter! Stop..” you squealed in fright as he roughly flipped you over and encased you beneath him, caging you with his heavy body.

“So…beautiful…” he mumbled as he tried to kiss you, his breath hot on your neck. The adrenaline surge made you feel nauseous as your body began to go into flight or fight mode.

“Get off me! No! I’m not joking…Peter! Stop!” you finally shrieked, batting him away as panic set in.

“C’mon…you’ve left me hanging for so long…” his hands pawed at you as he tried to coax you, “C’mon…it’s me…I’ll take care of you…”

You shrieked again and shoved him hard, sending him flying halfway off the couch as he bellowed in anger.

“What the fuck?” he exclaimed as he sat up.

“I said stop!” you shrieked, your chest rising. “You’re drunk!”

“Then why are you here??” he spat, his eyes glazed with anger and booze. “Why did you come back to my place?”

“Because you’re drunk off your ass and I made sure you didn’t kill anybody with your car, asshole!” you fired back as you shakily got to your feet with the intention of getting the hell out, the dread making you wobbly and disorientated.

“God, you’re so high and mighty,” he growled as he stood and began clumsily pacing the room, “Holding out on me like you’re some prize, when we both know you have no problem fucking bikers…”

You gawped at him in horror, the shock and rage rendering you speechless. Peter? Was this really him? Nice, sweet Peter?

“Yeah”, he mocked sarcastically as he saw your surprise, “It’s pretty obvious you fucked your boss…”

Your face fell in distress, too taken aback and angry in the moment to respond to his tirade.

“Here’s me thinking this was gonna be fun. You’re only here a short while, I thought we’d hook up and have a no-strings fling and then say bye-bye, but no! You’re no putting out! And I’ve been taking you out twice a week and spending money on you like a chump for nothing!”

“Jesus Christ, Peter,” you whispered as everything you thought you knew about him came crashing down around you. “Why are you saying all this? What’s gotten into you?”

He rolled his eyes, “Oh, shut up. Just shut up. Sh’up. Save me the guilt trip, ‘kay?” he hiccupped as his words melted into each other, “You’re so frigid and uptight…a man can only take so much. I’ve been nice, haven’t I? Been patient, not pushed you, but what does a guy have to do to get laid around here!”

Your wrath finally gave way to clarity. You’d heard all you needed to hear. He didn’t deserve any more of your time.

You stormed towards the door, but he moved to block your way.

“No, I’m talking to you!” he slurred.

“No, we’re done here,” you sneered, “Let me pass…”

“I just wanna tell-”

It seemed to happen in slow motion, but at the exact moment you moved forward to barge past him, he quickly raised a finger up to your face (presumably to yell at you some more). The speed of your movement, plus his poor grasp of hand-eye co-ordination in that moment, meant he clumsily knocked your cheek with his hand as the two of you collided. Even at the very second happened, despite his anger and generally assholery, you knew it was a drunken accident.

…But ow, that hurt.

You cupped your cheek and hissed, and you watched as he went white as a sheet and gasped.

“Oh no, nononononono, fuck, nonono oh god…are you okay?” he asked as he leaned over to try and get a look. He sounded more coherent than he had all evening, the fear of what he’d done apparently knocking the booze out of his veins.

“Ow…”, you winced as you took a step back from him.

“I didn’t…! It was an accident, I’m sorry…I didn’t know…” he began to hysterically babble. “I’d never hit you! Oh Jesus, I’m sorry – I didn’t mean it, I promise…Do you need ice?”

He was so pathetic that you weren’t even angry, just desperate to get as far away from him as you could and draw a line under this mess.

“I know you didn’t mean to,” you scoffed as you held your cheek and took the opportunity to head to the door and finally get the hell out of there. You had no intention of relieving his guilt, you just wanted him to shut up. "You're just a drunk mess".

“Please don’t tell him!” he cried out pitifully as you reached the doorway.

You stopped suddenly, turning to face him.

“What? Who?” you asked, confused as you held your cheek.

“Please don’t…please. I’m sorry. He doesn’t need to know about this, does he? It was an accident.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“Barnes,” he sputtered, “He-he threatened me. Told me if I ever hurt you, he’d come find me. Please…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. That was an accident…and what I said about the sex stuff…I’m sorry…”

“He what? When?” You scoffed, shaking your head, “You know what? Never mind. I don’t wanna know. You’re both pathetic,” you sneered.

He tried to fire more apologies and pleas at you, but you just shook your head and raised a hand to silence him.

“Just leave me alone, Peter, alright? We’re done here” you sighed with defeat; your energy levels zapped and your heart heavy.

*

You finally left the house, leaving him standing in the living room a snivelling mess and looking like death warmed up. You didn’t envy his eventual hangover.

You took off in Sally and sped away, dreaming of home. Granny’s home. You wanted to be in the warm bed, wrap yourself in her handmade quilt and drift off to sleep. Maybe you’d wake up in the morning and this would all be some horrible nightmare.

As you silently seethed about Peter and who he turned out to be, you suddenly found yourself crying. It was just all too much. What had happened back there, the fear in your bones when he had you on the couch, the terrible things he’d said to you, the way your cheek throbbed with pain. You felt like a fool for being such an awful judge of character. You felt stupid, naïve. Maybe not wanting to sleep with Peter had been your gut instinct trying to tell you something, so why didn’t you listen?

And what about Bucky? You’d worked so hard to move on from him, but he was always there at the edges, drifting closer. You still hadn’t fully healed from what happened. And what, he had been threatening Peter this whole time? What else didn’t you know?

So, you cried. For what happened with Peter, for what happened with Bucky. For the heartbreak they had both caused you in different ways. You cried for Bucky, for the loss of what might have been, for the love you might have shared. You cried for Granny and the unfillable hole she’d left in your life. You cried for her house, emptying her beloved home of her treasures and erasing her like she hadn’t even been there. And you cried for yourself, for all you’d lost, and for everything you’d never had.

You pulled over and parked up on the side of the road until you were in better shape, at least having the foresight to know that sobbing while driving wouldn’t end well. Finally, as the tears finally ran dry, you took a deep breath and wiped your face. You glanced at your watery eyes and swollen cheek in the rearview mirror – you looked a real fright. You could already see a bruise forming. You took a few seconds to inhale and exhale, then flicked on the ignition again.

But nothing happened.

Sally gurgled and spat, but the engine remained still.

You tried again.

And again.

Your fingers ached and cramped from the repetitive effort by the time you gave up.

You picked up your phone with your shaking hand.

Dead.

You laughed flatly and leaned back in your seat.

[bonny-kookoo]

The ilysib couple are so cute and secure in their relationship🤧🤧 I want, no I NEED him😭

Has the oc ever felt jealous/protective of jk when another woman tries to flirt with him?

"Here, let me help.." Jungkook tells you, reaching out to take the glass bottle of strawberry flavored ramune from your struggling hands, palms already an angry red from trying to push the glass marble in by yourself. He, on the other hand, doesn't even use his palm at all- a push from his thumb all that's needed for him as he quickly drinks the foam bubbling up from the bottle, before he gives it to you.

But before you can even say thank you, someone next to him giggles, her friend behind her equally as charmed by his actions it seems like as she leans on her hand, cleavage pushed forwards so much that you're wondering when her tits will finally spill out. "It's so cute seeing a guy take care of girls like that." The older girl says, looking at Jungkook, and you freeze up for a second. "My brother has to take care of his besties' sister sometimes too, I get it." She laughs, and you put down your drink at that.

What?

It's something that you've noticed happening quite a lot with Jungkook at your side. Maybe it's your girly outfits sometimes looking more cute than sexy just because you feel like wearing something more comfortable. Maybe it's the height difference between you and Jungkook. Maybe it's your rather round face that makes people think you're younger than you are, especially when you don't dress revealing and confident.

It's, after all, one of the reasons you do dress like that, most of the time. Because you're just not being taken seriously otherwise- and right now, you're just being proven right on that.

You don't want to cause a scene and put Jungkook on the spot however, knowing how uncomfortable things like that make him- so you just stand up, shrug off your partially see-through beach cover over your chair next to him, before you lean over to kiss his cheek. "I'll be going for a swim, alright?" You say, and he nods, a bit caught off guard- before he watches you walk off, towards the sea where you slowly walk further into the deeper water.

He's suspected that you have a distaste for things like that- being belittled by others especially.

He's noticed that you're a little sensitive about jokes made concerning your height or soft facial features, and it had taken you quite a long time to ask him for help for.. anything, really. And even now, you much rather break your neck and twist your limbs in order to reach a higher shelf in the grocery store than ask him who's more often than not right next to you.

He doesn't know what to do to help. Because while he knows that you hate being called that, you are simply.. cute to him.

"Would you join us for the beach party tonight?" The girl next to him asks, pulling him out of his thoughts- and he shrugs, before he takes your beach cover, folding the see-through fabric before he puts it in your bag that he zips up. "Aw, come on-"

"Gotta ask my girlfriend if she's up for it." He simply says, before he waves at you to come back- something you do, though your face still shows some discomfort.

"Oh- well, it was worth a try." The girl says, shrugging. "But considering she's not here right now, you can always call me up when you get tired of her-" She leans closer, when Jungkook stands up, not even looking at her. Instead, he wraps the pink beach towel over your shoulders so you can dry off, and picks up your bag for you.

"I wanna go somewhere less crowded.." He mumbles towards you, and you not quietly. "Hey." He says, catching your attention to look up at him, giving him a good angle to kiss you- something that definitely catches you off guard- before you can feel his hands adjusting your bathing suit to cover your chest a bit better. "Okay?" He asks you, and you're not sure what he's asking-

But you nod.

And so he holds your hand the entire way from the beach to his car, to drive to a more secluded spot like he said. And he also holds your hands in the back of his car, where he shows you just how much he loves your body just the way that it is, no matter how much you dislike it.

And while it doesn't cure your insecurities, his love and care does help you, little by little.

[03junkie]

prompt: dive || I would recommend listening to ‘Malibu’ by the Driver Era || @rosekillermicrofic || word count: 542

There was something about the open sea that put Barty at ease. He’d always felt at home in the water, and the ocean made him feel like he was the king of the world. There were small waves crashing against the yacht, the sound setting and breaking a pattern. He had a vodka-cranberry in one hand, while the other rested against Evan’s chest.

They’d taken James’ yacht out for a spin that day. The day was perfect; the sun hung low in the sky, warming Barty’s cheeks as he leaned against the railing. Evan looked up at him.

‘What?’ He brought the glass to Evan’s lips, who drank, and then grimaced.

‘We should get in the water,’ Evan took another sip.

‘Dive into cold water where we don’t know what’s under the surface?’

‘Well, if you say it like that.’ Evan’s face fell, and he dropped the sunglasses resting atop his head onto his nose.

Barty put down his glass onto the wooden deck. He stood up, leaving behind a mildly confused and highly offended Evan behind. He unbuttoned his shirt, tossing it to the side. He reached a hand out to Evan, who grabbed it immediately. A wicked grin lit up the blond’s face, as he discarded his sunglasses.

‘You’re not jumping in, are you?’ James shouted in question. Evan and Barty exchanged a look. ‘Bad idea, you two. Bad idea.’

‘Let them be, James.’ Remus piped up from next to Sirius.

‘Yeah, love, nothing you say will stop them.’ Regulus flanked James, who draped an arm across his shoulder. Barty watched Evan take off his tee, his breath catching in his throat. Evan shook out his hair once, before looking at Barty and smirking. Despite the years passing between them, Barty always felt like he did as a seventeen year old schoolboy with a crush.

Evan stuck his hand out for Barty, who interlocked their fingers. Barty smiled at his boyfriend like he was the Sun that planets revolved around.

‘Are you ready to go?’

‘Always.’ And so they ran. The water was biting against his skin, and he couldn’t see anything in the brief moments of silence. He was still holding onto Evan, who pulled him up to the surface. Air filled his lungs, and a wide grin was plastered on his face. Evan’s hair was stuck onto his forehead and face, so Barty tucked it away. Evan’s hands came to rest against Barty’s hips, pulling him closer till they were flush against each other.

This felt like a cliche scene from a movie, but Barty wasn’t angry about it. Quite the opposite, in fact. He held Evan’s face in his hands, kissing him until he felt the lack of oxygen getting to him. Evan’s grip on his hips tightened.

‘Other people can see you two idiots!’ Dorcas called. Barty raised his middle finger in the general direction of the voice, without breaking away from Evan. He felt Evan’s laugh against his mouth, and he would have done anything to bottle that feeling.

This feeling— it was almost surreal. It felt like something that shouldn’t exist at all (it was that precious). Them in the sea was worth every single day of sickness they would have to face together.