#your skin just like pearl

[strobbylemonade]

fish want me women fear me

[hballegro]

highly recommend livetweeting things you watch to your friends or family because then you get shit like

[mantisgodsdomain]

...sometimes we forget that normal people's gore tolerance, like. Ends at butchering a frozen chicken or whatever. Absolutely incomprehensible to us that there are actual real people out there who would genuinely get faint at the sight of blood. Don't you, like, have blood in your body? You've got body parts too, you know. You are capable of being injured. How on earth did you manage to become an actual adult person while being afraid of a state of your body?

[shawtuzi]

this video got me thinking….its kinda giving choso so walk with me real quick besties

˚ʚ♡ɞ

“fuckkkk,” the back of choso’s head knocked against the headboard, his chest heaving with a thin sheen of sweat covering it. the poor boy couldn’t form a single thought—the only thing swirling around in his empty mind is that he needed more.

his breath hitched when he felt your tongue wrap around his nipple once more, flicking the sensitive bud with your tongue. you didn’t bother saying much to him, it’d be pointless being the only word he could respond with was a breathy ‘fuck’.

“i’m ’bout to—hmph! nut again, it’s coming baby,” his head lolled onto his shoulder, his hips now bucking up to create a rhythm with your hand. you hummed around his nipple, squeezing his angry red tip, the clear pearls of precum leaking from his tip had you dying for a taste. “be louder…w’nna hear you cho,” you whispered in his ear, licking at the shell of it.

choso shuddered rather violently at the feeling, but nonetheless he got louder for you—a tad bit louder than you had expected. choso’s mouth dropped opened, a symphony of whiny moans following right after.

if he had any energy he’d fuck your fist himself, but alas after 3 consecutive orgasms all he could do was pathetically roll his hips. “so fuckin’ close, cmon baby make me cum,” choso nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt your soft hands begin to play his balls, squeezing them ever so softly.

choso’s entire body went limp as his orgasm hit, moan after pornographic moan spilling past his kiss bitten lips. the first shot of cum landed on his chest, some getting on his chin, which you greedily licked at a second later. his thighs shook in overstimulation, nearly closing because now it was really starting to become too much.

“baby baby baby wait—hah! you’re gonna f-fuckin’ kill me,” his larger hand wrapped weakly around your wrist, but it stopped nothing. you kissed you way up his chest to his neck, sloppily kissing, licking, and sucking any bit you could get. he just smelled so good—like vanilla and cinnamon, you just wanted to eat him up.

you brushed his hair out his face with your free hand. you looked into his tired, yet oh so lustful eyes, “you good?” you asked, halting your hand’s movements. choso sniffled and gave you a weak nod, “want you to drain me dry angel, even if i start crying.” it’s funny because just as choso finished his sentence a stray tear slipped from his eye, landing on his already messy abdomen.

choso stuck out his tongue making you giggle. you knew exactly what he wanted. you leant over, wasting no time shoving your tongue in his mouth, swallowing up his whiny moans. you resumed your hand’s movements, squealing when you felt choso’s teeth sink into your bottom lip.

he truly didn’t know if he had another orgasm in him but he didn’t care, even if he blacked out. why do you ask?? because soon he’ll be receiving the best aftercare known to man. cuddles, kisses, BACK SCRATCHES!!! he was as content as could be.

[tonycries]

AITA For F*cking My Sugar Daddy's Son?! - G.S.

Synopsis. When your sugar daddy just isn’t paying attention to you, can you really be blamed for fúcking his son? Especially when his son is absolutely obsessed with you.

Pairing. Rich boy! Gojo Satoru x Sugar baby! Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected, jealous Satoru, créampie, dirty talk, manhandling, marking, Satoru’s dad is not really present, oral (female receiving), overstim, másturbation (male), thigh riding, cúmplay, Satoru is really really down bad and filthy for you, CEO’s son! Gojo,  pet names, swearing.

Word count. 8.1k

A/N. Will proofread later, lowkey scared to post this, but I just wanted it out of my mind. And in my mind, Satoru’s dad is FINE asl so-

The first time you meet Gojo Satoru is when you’re all dolled up for his father. 

Designer dress just a bit too tight, running on a few too many shots of tequila, wanting to be anywhere but at this stuffy gala. Everything was too bright - too polished.

And it really didn’t help that no matter how many scathing looks or whispers that followed you, you just had to be here - it was in your contract, after all. Because luckily for you, you just so happened to be the infamous little plaything hanging off the arm of the head of Gojo Corporations.

Well, usually. Right now your sugar daddy was too busy entertaining his business partners, leaving you off to the side, praying for something - anything - to save you from this-

“Damn if I’d come to these shitty galas a lot more often if it meant I’d get to see a beauty like you.”

You jolt out of your bored little reverie, eyes immediately snapping up to meet the tall man suddenly in front of you. When did he even get so close? 

You can’t help but drink him in from head to toe, from the overpriced, slightly-disheveled suit to the tiny dimple at the end of his mischievous grin. Strangely familiar white locks fell effortlessly to curtain his eyes. Eyes that were a startling blue - the kind of blue that had your cheeks flaring and knowing exactly who this was. 

Oh.

At your silence, he tilts his head with the air of someone that owns this entire venue and everything in it because, well, he did. Twinkling gaze searing into your skin as it roams appreciatively all over your body, plowing on, “Though, you look like you’re on the verge of an aneurysm around these old coots.”

You sigh, pinching your nose at the curious glances around you. Not even able to find it in yourself to put on that plastic smile anymore, “Oh y’know, just soaking up my popularity with the masses after being stranded here.”

“Oh? Here with anyone?”

“Yeah.” you blurt out, “Your father.”

You watch in amusement as Satoru’s mouth falls into a delicate oh! eyes flickering over his shades between you and the handsome man on the other end of the venue, oblivious and fully enjoying himself in the company of his secretary. A bit too much without you. 

“Y’know…” he starts, shaky and sounding only half the insufferable heir he was before, “I would say that’s a hilarious version of a ‘your mom’ joke but you’re actually serious, aren’t you?”

“Mhm. Though it would make a good punchline, huh?” You huff out a laugh at the way he was suddenly less of a smooth-talking playboy and more of a lost puppy. The gears turning in his head as he processes that oh shit you were the sweet lil’ thing his dad’s been suddenly rushing off to meet straight after work. And the reason why all those old fossils here were clutching their pearls in scandal.

He just didn’t expect you to be this…gorgeous. And for the first time in forever, he’s suddenly so intrigued.

Because ah, you should’ve known better than to think that this little hiccup would deter the infamous Gojo Satoru. No, in fact that million-dollar smirk only makes its way back onto his unfairly pretty face, like he’s about to spill the juiciest gossip of the century.  

“So you’re the latest armcandy my ol’ man has picked up, huh? I hafta say, dear old dad has good taste.” he muses, stepping in close enough that his expensive cologne makes your head spin. “Why don’t you and I ah-” You follow Satoru’s gaze to where he was staring at the way his father was now making a beeline through the crowd. Straight for the two of you. 

“Gotta run before I get my share of the company revoked.” he flashes you a quick smile, fulling intent on saving his father’s delicate ego. But not before leaning down to whisper in your ear, “But jus’ saying,” voice a pretty little purr, “I wouldn’t ever leave you standing here so alone and gorgeous, princess.”

You can only stand there, reeling from the sheer audacity as he darts into the crowd with a wink, not caring if he stepped on a few too many overpriced coattails than necessary. Wondering whether this was some bizarre dream induced by too much tequila and not enough common sense.

“Hi, sweetheart. Investors held me up, you know how it is. Having fun, huh?” A toned arm wraps around your waist as your sugar daddy finally arrives by your side. And as he went on about his latest business branch, only two thoughts ring through your mind - 1. You were seriously reconsidering this arrangement. And 2. This was going to be interesting. 

And oh was it interesting. 

Because Satoru always managed to find you, wherever you were. No matter if it was another droning function or a chance meeting at the sprawling Gojo Estate, Satoru always swooped in whenever his father was too busy for you. Which, fortunately for Satoru, happened to be a lot.  

Hell, he seemed to find you even when you least wanted him to. Like that time he had to drag you away mid-argument with a particularly rude one of his snobby aunts. That was not a fun family reunion. 

All unabashed confidence and pretty smiles where his father was cold, cold calculation. Ready with a smart mouth to bicker with you and bright eyes that seemed to linger on you a bit too long. But you didn’t mind - why would you? Because all things considered, Satoru was a very attractive man. Sure, his father was extremely handsome, too - in a clean-cut, DILF-y way, in fact. But his son was dangerously attractive.

So much so that sometimes when he swept you away from insufferable galas to talk, some strange little part of you wished it was him that you came here with instead. Just for a second. 

“So, what do you see in my father anyway? His company?” Satoru asked you one day. Draping himself over his cool office desk, so comically out of place in the stiff corporate room. Legs kicking in the air as he waits for your response.

You tear your eyes away from the way his biceps were straining so deliciously against his snug button-up to deadpan, “I mean, I am his sugar baby after all, Satoru.”

“But think about it,” he whines, batting those long lashes at you. Fully intent on driving you as dangerously close to a stroke as possible before his father finishes up an important business meeting. One that he missed - whoops. “There’s close to nothing redeemable about the man. His idea of a family bonding activity is a PowerPoint presentation on quarterly earnings.”

“Satoru.”   

“And either way- I’m getting the company in a few years, would ya be my sugar baby then, princess?”

Ah, there it was. 

It’s been a few weeks of knowing Satoru, and those little comments still made your head spin. Second-guessing the nature of this strange little…friendship? You didn’t even know anymore. Because yeah there might’ve been a few, stupid little lingering touches - like a trace on your hips, or your hand firmly in his as he led your (temporary) escape from another lonely gala. But those meant nothing, right?

“Nah, I’d poison you and take over the company instead.”

“Hey!”

Well, whatever, he was just your sugar daddy’s son. His sharp-mouthed, dangerously handsome son that just couldn’t seem to leave you alone. Not that you were complaining, really. Your relationship with his father was not exactly exclusive - you already knew that secretary of his was a bit suspiciously close - but that’s all he’ll ever be. Right?

Or, well, that’s what you stupidly thought. 

It wasn’t until one night late in the Gojo Estate, cursing those ridiculously long hallways, that you get an inkling of exactly how wrong you were. 

“Ugh, fucking rich people.” you mutter under your breath, wandering around trying to find whether the fuck the bathroom was. Because it doesn’t matter how many companies and businesses Gojo senior ran, the man still sucked at directions. You hiss, rubbing the tiny bruise on your neck - and aftercare too, clearly, even though that was in that damn contract. Something about an urgent business call with his secretary. Ugh. 

After three wrong doors, a trip around the in-home planetarium (seriously, who even needed that?), and chugging a full water bottle from the third kitchen in exhaustion, you finally find yourself walking towards what hopefully looked like the bathroom.

Hand reaching for the doorknob to swing it open. Ah, this better be the one or so help you-

Now, Satoru thinks he’s died and gone to heaven. And you - hair mussed, and dazed, standing there in nothing but a large button-up, falling just below your panties - looked like a sinfully beautiful lil’ demon here to lure him into hell. And oh how gladly he’d go if it means he got to see this ethereal view more often. 

“Ah! Wha- Sato-” 

You don’t even know if you want to scream or not - torn between taking in the sculpted chest smushed against your face and not wanting to alert security downstairs. Reeling backward you drink in the sight before you and God how you wish you didn’t - it wasn’t too good for your heart. 

Satoru’s hair was tousled, droplets of water glistening on his hair like diamonds. Skin soft and damp and smelling so delicious. Bathroom light bouncing off his rippling muscles, pecs flexing, as his strong arms reach out to steady you as you reel backwards. 

Traitorously, your eyes snake across his sculpted body. Dipping below once. Twice. Cheeks flaring as a pang of disappointment hits you at the damp towel wrapped around that slutty torso. Wondering what’s underneath-

“Y’should take a picture, it lasts longer.” Satoru grins, like the shameless bastard he is. Though he wasn’t in any better state - eyes flickering between you and any sliver of exposed skin his eyes could reach. 

“I should be saying the same to you.” you mutter, caught red-handed, shuffling your feet in embarrassment. 

Satoru lets out a low chuckle as he pulls you closer minutely, presence practically enveloping you. “Oh, me?” he says, voice dropping to a husky murmur. Thumb tracing that little spot on your neck, “S’hard not to when y’look so appetizing.”

And you don’t even try to pull away because fuck this is Satoru and he looks so good - so warm under your fingertips, even when you jolt at the realization of what exactly he was talking about. Your hand coming up to cover that tiny mark left on your skin from not-too-long ago. A shameful little reminder that this was his son. 

You grapple for some - any - sense of normalcy. Warning, “Flattery won’t get you anywhere, Satoru.”

He leans down impossibly, quirking an eyebrow. Both amusement and something unreadable flashing across his face. “Oh, but it’s got my father somewhere?”

“Why? Jealous?”

“Yes.”

You startle, taken aback by the blunt confession. So direct and something so Satoru. The word hands in the hair’s breadth between you two now, sending your mind reeling. And you can’t help but repeat, “Jealous?”

“Fucking yes.” There it was again. 

But this time, Satoru plows on, voice barely above a whisper but ringing in the thick air. “Jealous he gets to have you all to himself but still doesn’t kiss you like you should be.”

“What do you-”

“Your lipstick.” he interrupts, swiping a thumb over your bottom lip, “Why’s it as perfect as since you came in?” And, indeed, you realize with a jolt that no you really haven’t been kissed the way you wanted - not enough to leave your make-up so sinfully ruined. 

Minty breath fanning your face so dangerously now, and you barely even realize that you’re leaning into it, “If it were up to me, princess, I’d ruin that pretty lil’ lipstick of yours every chance I got.”

A delicious little shiver runs down your spine, head spinning at Satoru and his words and Satoru- And it’s all you can do to get out a shaky, “So why don’t you?”

And then he’s kissing you. And you’re kissing him - like neither of you had the strength nor the will to stop. 

Satoru tasted just like candy, such an intoxicating sweetness that had you gasping as his soft tongue licked at the seam of your lips. Intertwining with yours as he breathes you in desperately. So sloppy. Such a sinful little mix of saliva and teeth and pure need.

His chest is soft under your greedy hands, lips searing against yours, and you could feel his hands wandering across every inch of skin they could find. Kissing you like he’ll never be able to again because fuck he knows that he might just not. 

Long fingers dance delicately underneath that shirt to feel- oh fuck, you weren’t even wearing panties. Such a pretty lil’ slut and by God was he a goner. 

Groaning into the kiss, he lets you loop your arms around his neck, hardened nipples rubbing against his abs as you tug on his damp hair. Honestly, fuck that thin shirt, Satoru thinks he might just pass out right here right now.

“S-Satoru.” you whisper against his lips, legs hiking up to grind your bare cunt against the throbbing erection straining against his towel. Already so wet from water or precum, you had absolutely no idea. You couldn’t give less of a fuck in fact, needing to see if Satoru’s cock was as pretty as the rest of him right now. Hands urgently dipping below the hem, starting to tug and-

“Hey, sweetheart. Did you find the bathroom?”

Shit. Fuck. Wonderful - perfect, in fact.

You would’ve thought Satoru burned you with how quickly you pushed him away. Cheeks burning, breath coming in short, ragged gasps. Almost slipping on the tile as you try to compose yourself at a safe distance - one that wouldn’t end up with you jumping his bones again. 

But all rational thoughts of that and your sugar daddy - Satoru’s father - almost go out the window once you take in the heavenly sight before you. 

Satoru’s lips swollen, hair disheveled, towel hanging slightly too low off his hips. Giving you such a pretty peak of those tufts of snowy white hair at the bottom. 

“W-we shouldn’t…” you trail off, as the footsteps get louder and louder. Something prickly and uncomfortable pooling in your stomach with each beat. 

Luckily for you, Satoru probably catches on to how you looked like you wanted the ground to swallow you whole right now. Voice low and control as he agrees, “Yeah, we probably shouldn’t.” No care in the world for his steadily approaching father as he lazily adjusts his towel, a gesture so nonchalant yet distracting. 

You swallow hard as he moves to walk past you, thinking that if this just so happened to be a dream then by God was it a good one. But of course - when has Satoru ever let you have it easy?

Because he stops abruptly in his tracks, fingers only ghosting the doorknob. Immediately turning back to walk to you with two, big steps, eyes gleaming, dimple flashing. And before you even know what’s happening, his lips are on yours. Featherlight and fleeting. But so so addictive. Nipping at your bottom lip, savoring you on his tongue.

It’s over before you know it, and a pathetic little disappointed whine leaves you as he pulls away. A smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he mutters lowly into yours, “Y’look prettier like this.”

Ah, you weren’t happy to see him leave but how you loved watching him go. Bathroom light so pretty against all the dips and curves of his figure as he walked away. White hair reflecting the warm hue, muscles flexing, hips slightly swaying with such a slutty little confidence that only Satoru could have. 

As you watch him disappear around the door, you almost forget the unwelcome visitor hot on your heels any second now and - wait - what was it that he’d said? “Prettier like this”?

Turning to the mirror and- 

Oh. Shit. 

You better have brought your make-up remover.

God, Satoru’s never ran to his room as fast as this since that time he was caught using his father’s elite golf clubs to play pool with Suguru.

Because as soon as that goddamn door is shut, he’s ripping his towel off. Letting it drop to the floor in a damp pile God-knows-where as he immediately fists his swollen cock.

With a groan, he leans against the shut door.  Eyes scrunching in such sinful ecstasy as he squeezes the base, pulsing and so achingly hard for you. A warning and a reprimand. Shit, how the fuck did he get this hard just from kissing your pretty lil’ lips?

Ah, whatever, right now he doesn’t have the patience nor the sanity to think too hard about it. Smearing the precum beading at his weeping tip, wetting his palm so sloppily. 

Neat little crescents searing into his skin where you’d grabbed him before, only thing on his mind - how would you do it?

Would you ease him into it? Or would you start up a hasty, desperate little pace like he was doing right now? Shallow, quick tugs on his thick cock like you wanted to milk him deliciously. 

Satoru’s hand was cold on his angry, hot cock. And with how many times he’s slipped his into yours, he knew yours would feel better around him. Both hands wrapped around his cock but still not covering all of it. So soft and warm, your nails scraping gently across his throbbing veins. 

“Shit. Hngh-” he breathes out, voice almost-pathetic, “J-jus’ like that, princess.” 

And what would you say? Tell him to shut up and just take it? Would you whisper into his ear as you let him fuck himself into your pretty fists? “So hard n’ big all f’me?” Satoru’s knees buckle at the thought, hand speeding up. “Y’look so pretty like this, y’know.”

Slam! Palm slamming against the poor drawer beside him hard enough to make its legs tremble, desperately trying to keep himself from collapsing. 

But oh his fist doesn’t stop. No, he doubts he ever will - not that strong of a man to keep himself from getting off so filthily to the image of you standing at the doorway of the bathroom. You looked so ethereal - Satoru couldn’t help but imagine how even more sinful you’d look if he was the one done with you. Shit, you wouldn’t even be able to stand if he had his way. 

“F-fuck, princess. M’gonna ruin you, gonna fuck you till you don’t know anything but m’name.”

He grips tighter on the base, thumbing under his slit in a way he knows your devious little hands would do. Fucked-out little grunts leaving his swollen lips each time his fingers meet his flushed tip.

“Ah- Ngh, fuck.” he mutters hoarsely, letting out a low, broken little call of your name. “More. Need more, princess.” He wanted you so badly that it hurt.

What the fuck did that sleazy old man have that he didn’t? And that little bite? That would be nothing compared to what Satoru would do if he got his hands on you. Yeah, he thinks, body shuddering violently, he’d mark you up till everyone knows you’re his. Leave bites that peak out from your collar, all the way down to your pretty thighs.

“Y’belong with me pretty, could fuck you so much better.” Sweat drips from his brow, splashing onto his erratic fist. Thighs quivering, heart pounding wildly in his chest. 

Satoru would almost be embarrassed by how desperate he was acting if he was in any better state of mind. Head only filled with you, and your hand and you-

And fuck for the sake of his sanity he can’t even begin to imagine how it would feel inside your pretty lil’ cunt. All he can think of is the way you’d keen so prettily, mewling out a little, “Oh s’too big.” 

Would you take him all in one go? Look up at him with those beautiful, teary eyes as you milk his cock? Or would he have to ram his dick into you, because shit as much as he loves that  bitchy mouth, it would look so much better gasping and stuttering as he fucks you dumb. 

“Oh yeah.” he groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head. “Such a good lil’ slut f’me. Taking m’so well.” 

God his hand was so sloppy on his dick that he didn’t even know what he was doing anymore. Just wanting to fuck you and have you do this f’him. 

Ah, your plushy walls would suck him in so nicely. One hand speeds up on his cock, while the other reaches down to cradle his balls. Tugging and pulling at the same jerky rhythm they would smack your ass while he stuffs you full. 

So much better than any other sugar daddy ever could. Oh how Satoru would love to mess up your pretty pussy and your lipstick. He’d fucking tattoo your lipstick stains on if he could.

And you’d be able to do nothing but gasp and whimper into his lips, cockdrunk and dazed, “Shit shit shit- Toru m’gonna - Hah- Wanna cum. Please wan’ cum-” Oh how he’d burn down this entire fucking world to hear you call him that. 

“Fuck,” he curses, bucking into his fist, tight balls twitching so sensitively. “Fuck...fuck fuck fuck. M’gonna cum- shit- gonna cum, princess.”

“Cum f’me, Toru. Fill me up with y’cum- wanna take all of it.”

And then he’s cumming. 

A ragged, raw moan of your name leaving his lips. Thick, hot ropes of cum that should be painting your pussy white - but, alas, he’s spilling into his fist so shamefully. And amongst the stars behind his eyes he’s sees you - you you you-

You, fucking your cunt deeper onto his cock to take every drop of his cum. You, whispering sweet little praises as his seed gushes down your thigh, telling him that oh he’s doing so well, and he’s the best boyfriend ever and you already want more-

You, at the arm of his father.

Shit, he needs to shower. Again. 

---

Ever since that little incident that night, everything changed. 

At this point, you didn’t even feel that usual little bitterness whenever your sugar daddy canceled for some urgent business. And, well, it made you blush to admit but you found yourself heading over to the Gojo Estate more and more frequently, often just to catch a glimpse of Gojo - or a quick kiss in the stuffy broom closet. Whichever left you more time to run away from looming security and his father. 

But that was exactly the problem. 

Because no matter how thick the tension lingering in the air between you two was, nothing had gone past heated kisses and touches. Either you were brought back to reality with the possibility of being arrested for indecent exposure at those galas, or someone just had to interrupt. Seriously, with how many times Satoru has had to pay off his poor personal assistant, you’ve been wondering whether he actively seeks you two out. 

And it really didn’t help that Satoru always tasted so goddamn delicious. Fingers searing on your skin, cologne heavy in the heady air, it was hard to keep your hands to yourself. 

But, hey, desperate times bring devious measures.

Which is why you were here right now - sinking into the plushiest bed at the Gojo Estate, clad in your delicate light blue lingerie. One that was custom-made in this specific shade of blue. Because while your sugar daddy preferred you in red, you’re sure he wouldn’t mind you using his credit card for other ulterior motives, right? 

You just hoped that Satoru would just so happen to get a peak when you sneak out to use the bathroom later. What would he say? Would he like it? Would his eyes roam over your body, fingers twiddling with the flimsy lace?

But more importantly - would it be enough to make him break? Even if just a little bit?

Knock! Knock! Knock!

You’re startled out of your little whirlwind thoughts by knocking on the door. Steady, and matching your racing heart. Ah, Satoru’s father, you hastily get up to fix your hair.

“Yo, princess, are you naked or can I come in? Or can I come in when you’re naked?”

That wasn’t your sugar daddy. 

Not even thinking of your current outfit anymore, you rush to throw the heavy wooden doors open to see that, yes, it really was Satoru standing at the door. All bright grins and flushed cheeks as he drinks you in. Brows raising as his eyes move down from your face once. Twice. Thrice. 

Success. 

“What’re you doing here, Satoru?” you bat your lashes deceivingly innocently. Trying to hold back the smirk threatening to curl your lips at the way he gulps.

“Uh- My father’s off to some urgent b-business.” he murmurs, scratching the back of his neck. “Told me to tell you he’s sorry and wishes you the breas- best.”

Oh. 

Well, it wouldn’t be the first time Satoru’s father has canceled on you. But it would be the first time that he’s canceled on you so conveniently enough to leave you alone with his unfairly hot son. Now, you couldn’t let the opportunity go to waste, right?

You lean slightly against the door, body ghosting Satoru’s, teasing him, “Well, when is my dear sugar daddy coming back from his business? Tell him I miss him.”

It’s a joke - and both of you probably know it. But that doesn’t stop Satoru’s brows furrowing ever-so-slightly, suddenly a different man from the flustered one he was just a few seconds ago as he mutters, “I don’t think he’ll be back tonight.”

“Aww, must be some important business.” 

He clenches his jaw aggressively at that, gritting out a clipped little, “You do know that ‘business’ of his is his secretary right?”

“I know. What a shame, right? Guess I’ll just have to go home n’ wait for him then?” you mockingly sigh - God, someone give you an Oscar. Moving to close the door in Satoru’s face, only to be stopped by a large hard smacking into the doorframe - as you knew it would. 

“You’re fucking crazy if you think I’m gonna let you come out looking like that and let you go home without tearing it to shreds.”

And that’s all that is said before his lips are on yours.

The door is slamming shut before you know it, and you’re shoved against it. Satoru’s lips such a sloppy mix of teeth and spit. Hands just everywhere - cradling your cheek, teasing your nipples through your bra, running down to squeeze and grope your ass. He just couldn’t get enough of you. 

Fuck twiddling with the lace, Satoru seemed well and fully intent to rip it off of you. And you’d let him. Just like he was letting you shove his overpriced button-up down his toned shoulders. Soft little rips sounding in the heady air at the urgency but neither of you could give less of a fuck. 

All you could think of is the way Satoru was so pretty and muscled. Drinking in all the dips and curves of pale skin underneath your fingertips. 

“Fuck, princess. Chose this color on purpose, huh?” his fingers dive under the hem of your bra, “Wanted to drive me crazy, mm?”

“Y-yes, Satoru.” you gasp into his mouth, and he takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss. “Wanted you to look at it. Got it custom-made all f’you.” words muffled as he sucks on your tongue. Satoru was always such a messy kisser, licking at the seam of your lips and intertwining his tongue with yours with no shame or shyness. A delicate trail of drool already starting at the corner of your mouth. 

Ah, it was too much for him. Satoru almost thinks he could cum in his pants right now at your sinful little admission. 

Which is why he pulls away to press hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, letting out a broken little hum of appreciation into your skin. “Thought so.”

And then your bra’s hitting the floor, tits spilling out into the cold bedroom air. But only for a split-second because Satoru’s immediately groping each and every inch of skin he can find. 

“Look so fucking beautiful like this.” Rolling your swollen nipples between two fingers as he mutters - more to himself than you, “Was gonna let him see you in this slutty lil’ thing, too?” leaning down to tongue lazily little circles on one nipple. Words muffled as he wraps his lips so prettily around your tit - tugging, just grazing with his teeth, “Matching my eyes, huh? Fuckin’ gonna be the death of me shit-”

Satoru was insatiable. Wanting all of you all at the same time. And you follow his line of sight to see him locked on your dripping cunt - soaking through the thin fabric of your panties. Clenching around nothing as his pretty pink lips fall into a soft oh! at the sight. 

Like a madman, he immediately drops to his knees. But you don’t think he even feels the pain as he bites down on the hem of your wet panties. Looking up at you with dazed eyes - miles away. 

Breath ghosting your quivering cunt, tugging lightly with his teeth, “Next time, I’m gonna be the one buying you these.”

Then he’s pulling - tearing your drenched panties to shreds. Grinning so devilishly around it as he gets his first sight of your pretty pussy.  Oh you were so perfect for him. So mouthwateringly wet. 

“Shit, princess. Can’t believe you were fucking holdin’ out on me.”  he muses in wonder, eyes wide at the way your sloppy pussy was glistening in the dim lighting. 

“You were the one that-”

And usually, Satoru loves hearing you run your mouth, but this time he’s shutting you up by diving face-first into your dripping cunt. Cute little mewls leaving you as he presses so shamefully deep that his nose was against your throbbing clit, rubbing languidly as he licks a thick stripe up your swollen folds. 

And then it was like something snapped. 

Because one taste of you and Satoru’s going wild. Throwing a leg over his shoulder to lick more desperately all all over your cunt, lapping up all the juices that gush out of you. Already so addicted because shit you were so much sweeter than in his dreams. 

“Ah! Hngh- please.” you mewl, as he wraps his glossy lips around your swollen clit. All you get is a feral little grunt, his jaw parted, eyes looking like he’s on cloud nine as starts to suck harshly. Filthy little squelches filling the air as Satoru rolls his tongue across your clit. “Feels, s’good, Satoru.”

But your cute little whines turn into one of disappointment as Satoru pulls away ever-so-slightly. “Call m’Toru.” he slurs.

And he doesn’t waste any more time, tongue swishing in his mouth to spit on you once. Twice. Missing ever so slightly, and splattering on your thigh. You flinch, gasping out a breathless little, “Toru!”

“Oh shit, princess. Yeah- say m’name jus’ like that” he groans, ragged and raw. The last thing out of his mouth before he’s squeezing his soft tongue into your snug cunt. Dipping into your sloppy hole in and out in and out in and-

“He ever made you feel this good?” he moans into your cunt, the vibrations making you fuck yourself deeper into his unrelenting tongue. 

“W-what?”

“He ever made you feel this good? Cum so hard you see stars?”

You gasp out a pathetic little sob, “N-no. Want to- Wan’ you to make me cum, Toru. Make me cum around your tongue.”

And, well, what his girl wants - then she’s going to get. Because Satoru’s lapping at your cunt even more greedily than before. 

Stretching you out, breathing you in, looking up at your cute expression through his long lashes. Already so fucked-out for him. 

Nose rubbing purposefully in small circles on your clit. Fucking you with his tongue the way he wants to with his cock and he didn’t give a fuck if he suffocated in-between your thighs - he fucking loved it. 

“Hngh- shit shit shit yes!” your nails are digging into Satoru’s scalp at this point. The only thing steadying yourself to prevent you from collapsing onto the ground. And you really can’t help but angle his head just right so that his tongue curls against that one spot inside your plushy walls. 

Thankfully, he gets the memo. Because Satoru’s letting out a strangled little grunt at being so used by you as you drag your cunt across his pretty mouth. Body jerking into his as he hits that spot over and over-

“T-Toru- hah!” thighs quivering, Satoru’s grip bruising as he holds you up. “M’m gonna-” Your plushy walls sucking him up, thighs squeezing around his face. 

“Mhm?”

“Cum! M’gonna cum- ah- fuck fuck fuck-”

He groans huskily into your cunt. Throwing his head back ever-so-slightly to let your slick slide down his throat - greedily waiting for more that was to come. “Then show me how you cum, m’girl. Cum all over my tongue.”

And then you are - all over Satoru’s pretty face. And fuck he doesn’t think you’ve ever looked prettier. Holding his head in place as you rock your hips into his waiting mouth, letting him drink you in so greedily. Clamping down on his tongue like you were trying to milk him. 

And if you were in any better state of mind, you’d notice the delirious little heart eyes that Satoru was giving you, your cunt firm on his face and swollen lips letting out such pretty whines of his name. Toru Toru Toru - like a prayer as you fucking use him for your high. 

Ah, he could stay like this forever, he thinks. But no, an empty house and you all wet n’ pretty for him means there’s too much more to do. 

Which is why he’s pulling away, your slick decorating his lips so prettily. Smeared across the bottom half of his face and dripping onto the hardwood floor in a maddening little drip! drip! drip! 

And Satoru knows, with the way you watch him so intensely, mouth parted, eyes glossy. Which is why he runs a thumb along his mouth, pooling your juices on his fingers and popping them into his mouth. One by one. 

Your jaw drops a little in disbelief as Satoru licks his fingers clean, eyes rolling to the back of his head at your addictive taste. Oh he was ruining you without even touching you. 

“Not enough, princess.” he chuckles. “C’mon, gimme a kiss.”

And, really, how could you ever say no to that face? Because you’re pulling him to you as soon as Satoru stands to his full height. Capturing his lips in such a sloppy, filthy kiss - forcing you to taste yourself and you half-lucidly wonder whether Satoru loved the taste almost as much as you because it was so him.

Bodies so close that your dripping cunt was seeping into his unfairly tight shirt. Forming a lewd little dark patch when Satoru lifts you effortlessly to guide you to the bed. Tongue still entwining obscenely with yours as he splays you out on the soft mattress for him. Drinking in that adorable lil’ shock on your face as you bounce on the bed, so drunk off of him that you didn’t even realize he was taking you to the bed. 

“Shit, y’look the prettiest like this, princess. S’a wonder m’not fucking passing out right now.” he hisses into your lips.

“Toru-” you whine, and shit the way his cock jumps at the mere sound of your voice makes you think that this will be a little trick you’re using more often. “Wan’ your cock s’bad. Wanna-”

You don’t even have the patience to finish the sentence before you’re fumbling with his belt. Something hefty and overpriced but you can’t possibly think about that right now because fuck you get the first sliver of milky skin. 

Satoru’s thighs were so sculpted and thick. It made your mouth absolutely water to wonder what it would feel like to ride them to insanity.

“Y’wanna ride my thighs? Fuck princess, you really are driving me crazy.” 

Shit had you said that out loud? 

Ah, well, it doesn’t matter because Satoru’s pulling his boxers down - so tight with his swollen cock, a dark patch right where his weeping head was. And you almost pout at losing the opportunity to take them off but oh how you’re distracted by the sinful sight before you. 

Satoru was massive - so long and flushed your favorite shade of pretty pink. Shit, you were going to have to get a lingerie set in this color one of these days. He was achingly hard and throbbing, springing up to smear precum all over his abs. 

And before you can even react, Satoru’s pulling you to him. Manhandling your pretty self so easily to straddle one, large thigh. 

“Oh- hngh, Toru.” you look up at him all doe-eyed and teary as he doesn’t even wait for you to register what’s all happening. Grip bruising on your hips as he rocks your hips so sluttily on his leg. “F-feels s’good. Ah-”

“Yeah? Y’like it? Like getting yourself off like a lil’ slut on my thigh?” he groans into your ear, low and husky with need. 

You nod wildly, sloppy pussy dripping all over his thigh, seeping into his skin as you grind your hips to meet his movements. “Like it s’much- ah-”

“Mhm? Better than anything he could ever do?”

“Yes yes yes, Toru-” you sob, cheeks burning as you realize that you’re humping him like a bitch in heat - but oh judging by the carnal little glint in his eyes, he liked it. Loved it, even. Because Satoru could feel the way your swollen folds spread to grind against him, clit pulsing so maddeningly against his skin. So filthy and messy as you used him to get yourself off. “S’much better- the best-”

He just didn’t expect to feel a soft hand wrapping around his cock. Eyes flying open to see you - all glassy-eyed, and fucking yourself on his thigh - wrap a hand around his cock. Starting to move in shallow, unsteady little motions up and down his throbbing cock to get him off at the same time as you.

“Wan’ you to cum, too, Toru.”

“Oh fuck.” he grunts, letting his hips fuck up into your fist in mindless little motions. “Y’don’t know what you’re doing to me.”

And with that his fingers were digging into the skin of your hips, forcing you to hold on for dear life as he drags your dripping cunt faster and faster across his thick. Movements erratic and frenzied now. 

Of course, you were not one to be out-done. 

Satoru’s precum spilling down your hand, your wrist now aching and wet, becoming so, so sloppy trying to get both yourselves off. But you still tighten your fist around his pulsing cock, desperately flying up and down his length. Pulling in quick, jerky motions to milk him for all he’s worth again and again and-

“You’re so oh- good f’me, princess.” he hums. “Your hngh- hands are so p-pretty wrapped around my cock. So perfect for me.” Bucking his hips wildly to meet your hand now, fucking your fist with no shame. Pulling you harsher on his thigh. “S’such a shame you had to hah fuck- meet my father first. I’d have been so much better.”

“Toru!” you squeal as one hand moves deftly from your hips to draw quick, hasty little circles on your throbbing clit. The friction from his thigh and fingers too much to handle. 

“I’d make you happier.” Your body is shaking now, hands messy and trembling around his swollen cock. “I’d make you laugh more and give you all m’time.” You can’t even look at him at this point, eyes scrunched close in ecstasy as Satoru whispers these maddening little phrases into your open mouth. 

“I’d make you cum harder.”

Oh and then you are - tears in your eyes, body convulsing into his as you cum. And of course he’s smirking smugly as he watches you ride your high out on his thigh, brows furrowed and bottom lip bitten in concentration as he holds off cumming. Not now. Not yet. 

“So, better than him or not?”

But shit was it hard. 

Especially when you raise your pretty, barely-lucid eyes to meet his, whimpering out a soft little, “I don’ know yet, Toru. Gonna hafta stuff me full of your cock if you wanna know.”

And perhaps for the first time since you walked in on him after the shower that night, the great Gojo Satoru is taken aback. Eyes widening in surprise, kiss-bitten lips falling into a soft oh! of disbelief. But not for long - never for long - because a devilish little grin breaks out across his face immediately afterwards. 

“Shit, y’really are perfect f’me, princess.”

With a low growl, Satoru is easily pulling your body - limp and boneless in his hands - to straddle his toned hips. 

You let out a yelp at the feeling of his fat tip just kissing your swollen folds, dragging teasingly along them, collecting the slick beading out of your sloppy cunt. Back and forth-

“Who’s got you feeling this way?”

“You, Toru.”

And then he’s pushing in, swollen cock bullying into your snug pussy. Thumbs drawing steady little circles on your hips - yes to reassure you but also to fight off that feral little part of himself that just wants to stuff your pretty lil’ pussy full until his heavy balls smack your ass. Not even waiting for you to adjust. 

But no. No, it was so much better when you were the one desperately trying to suck up his cock. Gasping and moaning out strangled little whimpers of his name as you sink yourself down on his throbbing dick. Inch by fucking inch. 

“S’too big- Hngh! I-is it even halfway in?” you whimper out, and Satoru could almost laugh humorlessly as he tilts his head to glance downwards and shit- he was barely a quarter in. 

“No.” 

“F-fuck” cute little tears streaking down your face now, thighs trembling, “Toru, I-I don’t think I can-”

“You can. And you will.” Fucking up into you in short, rapid little jabs to squeeze himself deeper into your tight pussy. Shit, it was such a squeeze, you were milking the ever-loving soul out of him. And it only made him impossibly harder inside you, making you whine and grind down - torn between chasing the feeling of being so deliciously full and the sheer pressure. “Shit, love when your pussy’s sucking me up so good.” 

One hand is on your hip, sliding you farther and farther down his cock, the other drawing urgent, quick patterns on your clit. Not even circles anymore because shit Satoru doesn’t have the patience nor the sanity for that. Throbbing veins rubbing so sinfully against that one spot in your dripping cunt, splitting you apart to the same rhythm as the pulsing. 

And as soon as your ass meets his heavy balls - already so wet with precum and slick - Satoru doesn’t even know if he’s on planet Earth anymore. Mind spinning, he doesn’t waste any time at all. 

“Fuck yes.” Satoru hisses, throwing his head back. “Fucking finally.” He pulls his hips back, far enough that his angry, red tip is just kissing your sloppy entrance, surging forward, forward, forward- “Y’don’t know how fucking long I’ve wanted this, princess. Needed this s’bad, so so bad you don’t understand. Shit.”

And, hey, his girl deserved to be fucked dumb, right?

“Needed this ever since I saw you at that goddamn gala.” he whispers into your lips, ragged and so fucked-out. Each word punctuated by a harsh, heavy thrust. Ones that have you keening and grasping Satoru’s broad back for support. Nails raking down his shoulders as his pace gets faster. More purposeful.

And you can do nothing but take it, barely even able to form any coherent sentences. So prettily sat on Satoru’s lap as he fucks into you, babbling sweet little nonsenses made for your ears only. “Ever since I saw that murderous little glare you threw at those snobby guests.”

His balls smacking against your ass over and over. A quick, steady little tempo that you were losing your mind to. “Ever since you let me take your hand and drag you away to that secret bar to take shots instead of champagne.”

You don’t know whether you’re even crying at this point - all you know is that your cheeks are wet and your voice is broken as your let out a little, “F-fuck, Satoru- but your fa-”

“Fuck that.” he whines, and you could almost laugh at the adorable pout that makes its way onto his face. And at that you can feel him jolt so deliciously, head snapping up to meet yours. “I’m the better one.”

And as if he’s trying to prove it to your cunt, he’s drilling into you faster. Harder. Hips burning now as he fucks you like some animal. Hitting that sweet spot over and over. “I’m the one with the personality and the looks.” Long fingers almost a blur on your clit as he matches his place. Cock hot, and throbbing inside you. 

“I’m the heir, I get the company, too, if that’s what you like.” He’s bouncing you on his cock animalistically now. Hungry gaze taking in the way you’re sucking him up so well. “And I’m funnier one, I’m the one that should be by your side.”

You see stars behind your eyes at both the pleasure and sheer overstimulation as Satoru starts fucking your cunt as best he could without fucking breaking you  - but, honestly, he didn’t give a shit if you cried. He just wanted to stuff you full and have you cum harder than you ever have in your life. 

“Fuck- fuck yes m’gonna cum Toru- hngh.” You pull him closer to you, allowing him to bury his face in the crook of your neck. “M-make ah! Make me cum, fill me up please, Toru.”

You feel him shudder inside you, balls squeezing so painfully. Hips sloppy and absolutely soaked with precum and slick. “Sh-shit, you’re not too good for m’heart. Ngh, f-fuck- I should be the one to make you cum. Over and over until you don’t know what it feels like to not.”

“Toru!” your eyes fly open, “Yes yes yes- it’s you. Only you-”

Oh, like something snapped then Satoru’s surging forward to bite down on the crook of your neck. Hard. You’d almost think he was out to draw blood. And then with a low groan, and one, harsh little thrust, Satoru’s cumming and cumming inside your pretty pussy. And you are too - back arching as you milk his cock through his high. 

Fingers digging into your skin as he holds your hips to his, letting your cunt be filled up so sloppily. Pumping thick, hot ropes of seed that dribbled out of you each time he pumped his hips into yours. Fucking it deeper and deeper inside you. 

And then you’re both collapsing, the exhaustion suddenly hitting the both of you as Satoru moves you both to lay on the mattress. Fuck, Satoru watches in wonder as his cum gushes out of you and forms a wet little pool on the expensive sheets as he starts to pull out. One round might just not be enough. 

Yet not yet - he can feel his eyes drooping, muscles aching as he pulls your sticky body closer to his. And Satoru knows he should get up and wipe you both down. But right now, he’s too drunk off the heat of your body and that angry little bite on your neck. Distracted by the cute lil’ expression on your face, so tired and thoroughly fucked out. Fingers playing with his hair, looking at him with an expression so fond - just like in his dreams. 

Nothing more is said. And all is quiet in your strange little heaven. 

That is, until - “So, princess. Wouldn’t ya wanna be an heiress instead of a sugar baby?”

A/N. How we feeling???

Plagiarism not authorized.

[shotmrmiller]

sex pollen trope where you're the one affected, having been exposed to some dense gas while on an op that felt like harsh sandpaper across your throat and lungs, and now you're a feverish mess on some ratty cot in a safe house and with only ghost as company, it's miserable, as the saying goes.

hair sticking to your sweaty skin, plastered onto your forehead and neck, every swallow feeling like you've got a mouthful of sand, your fluttering pulse wild and deafening in your ears, and the throbbing ache deep in your core, the blistering heat right below your navel— it'd only been uncomfortable in the beginning, the faint throbbing incredibly familiar, but the more you ignored it, the worse it got.

and now you're here, with arousal sticking your underwear to your pussy, unable to do anything about it because your lieutenant is seated in a corner that lets him have both you and the front door within his line of sight. a quick, discreet rub under your clothes is not an option.

someone put you out of your foggy misery.

"squirmin' like a worm on a 'ook isn't gonna help." his staring doesn't either, yet he does it anyway.

"got to make sure ya aren't dyin' on me." you want to snap that you don't think proof of life is on the darkened stain between your legs, the retort pressed behind clenched teeth but another thick wave of bestial need rolls over you and god, you're about to shove your hand into your underwear, propriety be damned—

"best you don't do tha'." why the fuck not? "you'll only get relief for a moment 'fore it comes back twofold." he says as if he's reading off the morning paper and not watching you fight tooth and nail to not fuck yourself against the pillow your head is on. (soap's offer to be friends with benefits is only looking better by the hour.)

you hastily decide that it'll be better than nothing. you'll just have to rub your pussy raw until this drug runs its course and you're telling him to piss off or don't, but you've had enough. you're stuck here with him anyway, no flight home until the morn and you're not about to spend it writhing around.

"if tha's wha' you want," ghost bites his gloves off, spitting them out onto the ground before curling his hands around your ankles and dragging you toward him. "i will help." your entire world narrows down to the feel of him touching your skin, his fingers searing as they hook into the waistband of your pants, and you almost kick him in the mouth trying to get them off faster.

"but 'm not fuckin' you." the bite of disappointment is quickly forgotten, his breath warm against your slick pussy, and after three quick glides of his tongue over your pearl, your orgasm crests, pulse after pulse of pleasure so potent it stung.

in less than a minute you're burning again, need thrumming through you and with the heady push and drag of his middle finger over your sensitive nerves, curling in you until he can fit two, three—

you're lost.

(ghost telling you that he's not doing anything else because if he's going to fuck you then you're going to remember it falls on ringing ears.)

[sunni-stuff]

P1 here.

Ghost walks through the door of your home as if he owns the place, tossing his keys onto the coffee table and shrugging off his gear by the door. He remembers your address by heart and recognizes the space he's walking through once again. 

Glancing around, he expected to see you greet him at the foyer only to be met with silence. Ghost passes by your couch, gloved fingers running against the back while his mind replays the sounds of your needy moans from when he fingered you on the cushions just weeks ago.

Ghost has had countless flings and meaningless one night stands, but never did he expect any of the doves he's played with to actively call for more. 

Though he wasn't complaining.

A creaking floorboard causes his head to snap towards the stairs. There, he sees you cautiously descending, the sides of your nightgown clutched anxiously in your palms. “I didn't think you'd actually show.” 

Simon stares at you, his eyes roaming over your form, taking in every dip and curve visible through the lacey material. He lets out a heavy breath, fist clenched in deep restraint as he thanked every single god above for what's standing in front of him. “How can I ignore a civilian in need?”

Your laugh makes him still, the mirthful chuckle and the smile on your lips making the tent in his pants ache painfully.

Did you know what you were doing to him? How just your chuckles alone stirred something profound?

“So… upstairs or on the couch?” You ask, breaking the silence.

“You wanted me here, love. Dealers' choice.” Simon watches you fumble, fingers thumbing over the lacing decorating the bottom of your nightgown.

“Upstairs then.”

For Simon, everything seems to happen in blurs. Just moments ago he was standing by the stairs and the next he's in between your legs, one large hand splayed over your stomach having you lay back motioning for you to relax as he eats you out like a man starved.

He doesn't remember how he got here; all that matters now is the taste of your cunt on his tongue. Simon laps at your glossy lips, tongue gliding your sensitive folds to your clit, making sure to give both his undivided attention. He needed no words to know he was doing a good job; your knees attempting to lock behind his head was added confirmation if your whines for more weren't enough.

“Can't you just put it in?” You huff in between moans, attempting to sit up on your elbows despite his efforts to keep you down.

“Shhh…” Simon coos, pressing a fleeting kiss on your pearl before pulling away his chin and lips shining your slick. “Look at that, practically begging for me.” A thick digit runs down your slit, gathering a pool of wetness and licking it off his fingers. 

Simon gazes at your cunt, observing how just his lips hovering near causes your weeping hole to clench around nothing. He could watch this all day. Watch how badly you needed him. How only he had the privilege to hear you beg.

“Alright, fussy bird,” He stands up straight, his shadow completely consuming you, the stark differences between you two are evident. Simon is not a small man in the slightest. Everything about him screams large. His presence commands attention, from his muscular arms down to his sturdy thighs.

Simon grabs ahold of your waist, pulling you against his bulge, slowly grinding his hips up and down, teasing you along the rough fabric of his jeans. He shows a little restraint, purposely holding back in hopes of hearing more pleas. “Come on, love, tell me what you need.”

This is what you dreamed of. His hands, his voice, his lips against your skin, a true dream come true. The final stretch was so close, so near and yet he still kept you tethered to the edge. “Please, I need it,” You mewl desperately, hips bucking for more friction.

Simon chuckles lightly, watching as you practically bounce in anticipation. "Someone's in a hurry," he jokes, despite his growing ardor matching your own.

With nimble fingers, he quickly unbuttons his jeans, sliding them down along with his boxers until he's bare to you. His eyes bore into yours as he did so, a silent question in them. His large cock sprang free, bobbing up against his stomach in time with his rapid heartbeat. 

The sight of his length, standing proud and erect, was enough to intensify the heat pooling in the pit of your stomach. Finally, you'd be full once again, getting to feel that cock of his in places no one else can reach. You nod all too eagerly, laying back to fully embrace everything.

With a swift lift of your hips, Simon nudges the edge of himself against you, drawing a ragged groan as he feels the wet heat of your waiting entrance. One hand grabbing his length, he slowly guided his throbbing cock against your slick folds. The head of his erection teased your entrance for a moment, before he pressed forward, burying himself inside you. “Fuck, fuck, more, please.” 

Simon can't help but smirk at your eagerness, patting your thigh appreciatively. “Can't rush things, dove. Don't want you breaking.” It's a slow push, his cock stretching your welcoming heat inch by inch. As he bottomed out, he let out a throaty groan, his fingers digging into your hips, anchoring you to him.

You cum in that exact moment, your pussy squeezing tightly around him and milking his cock. It feels like a faucet that won't stop dripping, coating his length with your sweet juices. For a brief moment you're dazed, head swimming and unable to hear anything over the sound of your heavy breathing.

“Fuck me,” he breathes, admiring the sight of you breathless. You feel like velvet, your pussy a vice he wasn’t sure he’d be able to quit. His thumb pushes against your clit and you whine, your voice high-pitched.

“Sensitive, please,” you beg, squirming until his hands force your hips down. Your lips are forced into an o shape, a silent scream forced from your chest when he does the exact opposite.

You’re not sure if you’re begging for him to stop or begging for more–it’s hard to tell when you’re being fucked within an inch of your life.

“Stay with me dove, stay with me,” Simon sneers, something depraved and feral in his voice. “Lemme make you feel good.”

Once the initial shock of cumming has passed, he begins to move inside you, setting a slow, deliberate pace. With every thrust, he claimed more of you, your bodies moving together in synchronicity. The scent of your sex mingled in the confined space of your bedroom, intensifying the intimate atmosphere.

Simon closes his eyes, wanting to savor the moment. Everything about this is mesmerizing. He'd rather be here than anywhere else in the world.

A hitched moan has him opening his eyes, his gaze boring into yours, wanting to see every flicker of pleasure that passes through you. Thank you, god, Simon thinks. He could feel himself teetering on the edge, but he held on, wanting to draw this pleasure out as long as possible. He wanted to give you everything and more.

“Feel like heaven,” he breathes. “Is this what you wanted? Wanted me nice and deep huh?”

His palm presses on your stomach where his cock bulges the skin, his grin wicked. “Poor girl, can’t make herself cum so she had to call me, yeah?”

You nod, a symphony of yes yes yes escaping you as Simon bears down upon you, the bed rocking with each movement.

“Had to call me because you know no one can fuck you like I can,” he says, “say it for me, c’mon.”

You hiccup through every word. “N-No one can fuck me—oh god—like you Si’—”

Your words make his ego grow, muttering of that's fuckin’ right streaming from his lips as he comes, the feeling sending your nerves on overdrive. 

As he felt you tightening around him, he knew you were close—as close as he was. His hand slipped between their bodies, his fingers finding your sensitive nub, applying just the right amount of pressure. He stroked in rhythm with his thrusts, chasing your orgasm with his.

Your pleasure peaked simultaneously, his cum filling you as you cum around him, walls clenching and rippling along his length in your aftershock. After a moment, he pulls out carefully, the room filled with your heavy breathing. 

Neither of you spoke for a while, simply staring back at each other through lust-filled eyes and flushed cheeks. Simon starts his retreat, stepping back to make distance and pulling up his pants. Your hand on his makes him pause. He raises a brow, confused by your actions. He opens his mouth but you're quicker.

“We aren't done.”

-

The original prompt was supposed to be a little thing; but so many people liked it, so here <3! This most likely won't be a series.

Taglist (ppl who commented): @pheebslu @amaraabbz @crestapex @tsarinamariya @kittykatgorl @havoc973 @gg-trini @coyotebayou @delta98-idk @thincess-reup @my-bright-legacy @jaxz21 @readersandtumblers

[silkentine]

Me when they are the sisters ever: 😭😭😭 They came out soooo freaking well. I won’t lie, they took me a thousand years to finish but through the constant support from all of my buds (and my latent bisexuality), we made it 😤

Hopefully you guys know the deal by now: design choices, easter eggs, and (NEW!) closeup shots below the read more. ⬇️

I wanted Ace to have a very down-to-earth vibe and looked at Aussie beach-girls, coastal cowgirls, and vaqueras for reference. (IDK, I’ve just always envisioned Ace as part-Australian🌺 and Mexican 🏴‍☠️) Her clothing choices are mostly natural or utilitarian materials like the painted wooden beads on her top, her woven fabric and leather belts, and her denim jumpsuit. I gave her bikini top a zen-garden kind of feel because I read the first Ace’s Story Novel and I loved how idyllic and peaceful they made Sixis Island sound so I wanted to invoke that in some way.

Speaking of her painted wooden beads, they hang off the back of her top and represent her connection to Sabo and Luffy. They watch her back once she sets sail. She only wears one red glass bead earring because the other one got ripped out of her ear when a child, leaving her earlobe torn (don’t think about it too much 😢). Also, YES! she does wear a hibiscus flower just like Rouge (because I hate you and I want to make you cry, muhwahahahaha).

Also, I really wanted her to have super textured curly hair that licks behind her like flames. I am always considering whether or not a character should have long hair or not because I don’t want it to be a hindrance if they’re in a fight (or if they ARE a fighter with long hair, how to they avoid an enemy making use of that?). Ace is, of course, a Logia-type Devil Fruit User so I think she wouldn’t have trouble with people grabbing it LOL I get the feeling that she doesn’t take very good care of it even though it looks amazing. Like you’d think it would be soft and bouncy just by looking at it but if you ever get the chance to run your fingers through it, it’s a total rat’s nest and there’s sand and food all up in it. She still falls asleep while eating 😂 but she tries her best to only do it around people she can trust (woman moment 😔).

Honestly, her design is not that different from Ace’s canon look. It feels really vital to Ace’s character to have a lot of skin showing. And he’s always hanging all over himself with his hips all cocked like the weight of the world is too much to stand up straight. It is certainly not my OWN preference to make her an absolute smoke show. That’s just the character, okay? (I’m partially lying and the proof is that I turned the emblem on Ace’s hat strap into a sternum tattoo for no other reason than that it is sexy af.)

Here are some closeups of Ace:

Now for Sabo, I’ve made her very girly. I tried putting her in pants or something more militant but she told me that she’d wear the big poofy sleeves and hiked-up ruffled skirt. I think Sabo has always had a strong grasp on his fashion sense and individual flair and I truly believe that his personal style is one of the major influences for the rest of the Revolutionary Army resulting in the very flashy, queer, steampunk aesthetic (aside from Dragon’s plain-ass cloak). So of course I had to implement her nonconformist look when reimagining her as a woman and dress her up to the nines.

I’ve given her very ornate jewelry that is there to tell a story, even if she herself doesn’t know it. I like to think she picks up stuff from her travels that resonate with her, such as a damaged set of earrings with one stone missing or red cup-shaped shells featuring three nestled pearls. Another accessory that cannot go unmentioned is her dragon claw hat pin that keeps her top hat resting on top of her hair (and is definitely used as a weapon when the situation simply doesn’t call for trusty metal pipe). She also has a veil that obscures her prominent facial scar. I imagine she’s not very keen on the reminder of the incident from her childhood that took away her memories. I also kept her chipped toothed because 1) it’s fucking adorable and 2) is a visual reminder that she no longer aligns herself with the nobility who would have gotten such a thing fixed. She is so poised in almost every outward facet of her life from her dignified role as the Chief of Staff to the elegant materials in her clothing that it can be easy to forget she was also a rough and tumble forest dweller. Every time Koala remembers this, he lets out the biggest sigh.

Her hair is inspired by Gibson Girls and Elizabeth Swann from the first Pirates of the Caribbean movie. I wanted it to be fussy and tidy but fall apart when she’s in moments of distress. For example, when she remembers her sisters, her hair starts to look like Ace’s flaming mane. I’m so in love with her, I think she looks like an adorable little porcelain doll that would fuck you up. I made an effort to keep her eyes a little bit manic. I get lost in her steely black orbs (and also Ace’s warm brown ones, but we’re talking about Sabo rn).

Here are her close-ups:

Plot notes for this AU:

For this series of character designs, I wanted the expressions and outfits to be aligned with the canon plot but I don’t know if I have the heart to kill fem!Ace in my AU. I’m too attached and ASL has suffered enough!!!!! But Ace’s death is also a major defining moment for Luffy so it feels disingenuous to completely avoid it. Also a huge aspect of Sabo’s character is carrying on Ace’s will and I have so many thoughts about how the Dressrosa Colosseum scene would play out if they were all women. Oh well, I’ll cross that tragic bridge when I get to it. I’m definitely going to draw some Modern AU Girl Piece ASL though. They deserve to hang out with no stakes 😭 They are sisters!!!

Check out the tag “girl piece” on my blog for my other One Piece genderbends! 🥰

[monstersflashlight]

Imagine being taken by aliens, or more like you volunteered to go with them. When they asked if someone wanted to join them in their human discovery tests, you said yes. Without knowing what it was about, without thinking about it, even. You just knew they looked interesting and cool, and you needed a change in your life. And maybe... just maybe, you had a bit of a kink with aliens since you first saw one.

What you weren't expecting when you got to the ship was to be asked to be naked all the time. They wanted to see what humans looked like, what their movements and functions were... That seemed easy enough. You just had to walk around and do everything you normally did, but with a couple aliens observing each one of your movements. It should have been weird, but the feeling of being watched, in your naked glory... It turned you on to the point of being constantly wet. You wanted them to do more than watch, to touch you, to explore your human body, to do whatever they wanted with your human flesh... But they didn't. They were too respectful.

So you decided you would go first.

It was a normal day, walking around, helping in the lab, running some blood tests, taking some cells from your skin... Normal testing, but then... They asked about your genitals. And you, perverted little human, told the alien in charge you would show them. You could show them everything you had and probably more. Their fascination with you only grew when you sat on the table and opened your legs, showing them your wet pussy and your tiny excited pearl.

They reached for you shyly, but you were beyond that. You dragged their hand to your wet pussy, slowly telling them everything about your anatomy, and your reactions, and the way your body would excite if they did this or that... Before you realized they had three fingers inside of you and you were coming apart, your juices dripping around their fingers and your screams echoing around the lab. Their shocked face was amusing, but when you looked over their shoulder and saw everyone else equally shocked, you couldn't do anything else but to blush and tell them to get closer... You couldn't stop yourself from offering each one of them an equal experience, could you? It was only fair.

All in the name of science and discovery... obviously.

[pseudowho]

Kento was often quiet, but, swirling his whiskey over dinner, his silence hung heavy with words unspoken. You looked up at him, reading, shrewd.

"...what's up?"

"Hm? Ah, nothing."

"Uh-uh. Out with it, Kento."

Kento put his fork down, his brows furrowing. He plaited his fingers in front of his chin, resting on them.

"Would you...be upset if I had a work wife?"

You chewed, hmmm-ing aloud.

"Well, that depends. Do you think she actually has romantic feelings for you?"

"...no."

"If you talk about me, is she ever disrespectful? Like she wants to replace me?"

"Not at all."

"Do you like her?"

"...yes. She's a good woman."

"Oh, okay. Does she give you secret blowjobs in the storecupboards?"

Kento was aghast, mute with outrage, one hand pressing to his chest, pearl-clutching. You laughed into your pasta.

"Calm down, precious. That's a no then." You put your fork down, taking his hand from his chest, and swirling your fingertips on his palm.

"Then, I'm fine with it. I trust you to put a stop to things if they become suggestive. I know you're obsessed with me, and I know she hasn't got a chance even if she tried anything. Okay?"

Kento still pondered, his skin prickling, his food untouched, and you continued.

"Most importantly, are you upset with it?"

"Yes." He burst out, stabbing his pasta. "It's...disrespectful. Unprofessional. I have one wife, and that's the way I want it to be."

"Then, there's your answer. So stop worrying, eat your dinner, and tell her in the morning."

You continued eating. You felt Kento's eyes on you, calloused warm fingertips stroking your inner wrist, trailing suggestively up your forearm, and your smile grew as you chewed.

"...stop staring at me, Kento."

"No. You're lovely."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Around mid-morning the next day, you received a text...and another, and another...and anotheranotheranother, your phone blowing up in your pocket.

"Jesus--alright--give me a minute." You said aloud to nobody in particular, putting your tea down.

You opened your phone to a slew of messages from Gojo, and read them with a growing smile.

Shoko is so upset

Nanamin doesn't want to be her work husband

This is fine for me because I need a work wife and she kept saying no to me

So tyvm

She's my wife now

As you laughed, reaching for your tea again, your phone began to ring; Kento. You answered.

"Hey, lov--"

"Is Gojo texting you?"

Your phone buzzed again, blowing up against your ear, and you snorted with laughter.

"Kento, save her. Save Shoko. You have a duty. Be a good work husband."

"--but I don't want another wife--"

"--and you'd sentence her to Gojo? Kento. She's my best friend."

Silence. A huff. Kento hung up as you laughed. Tapping your phone against your thigh, and biting your lip, you tapped out a message to Shoko.

He's all yours. Make sure he takes a lunch break. He likes the pastries in the cafeteria on Tuesdays but never manages to get one, help him out. If he's grumpy he's probably just hungry. Force him home on time. Good luck.

[anantaru]

・✶ ｡ synopsis — capitano loves teaching his darling how it feels to receive pleasure by a real man <3

warnings — inexperienced reader & naive ?? reader, petnames used: good girl, size kink/size difference, age gap ? (he's mentioned as being older), fem! reader <3

the thought of capitano teaching you about pleasure and passion was unbelievably hot to the point where you couldn't wait for it to happen again and again.

yes, he's older and more experienced than you, so of course you believe whatever he tells you and certainly won't question all of the depraved things he'd ask you to do, the harbinger obviously know better than you do, correct? these thoughts never failed to echo in your mind as you found herself alone with capitano, the strongest and mysterious harbinger whose very presence sent your mind in a daze.

he towers above your smaller frame with his dark eyes piercing through the dim light of the room, the silent command in his gaze strong enough to send an entire army to its defeat.

you couldn't lie to yourself, especially not when it came to him— and you felt a thrilling mix of fear and anticipation as he sank inside for the first time, making your pretty mouth part with a high gasp as he pressed himself through your tiny hole— first his thick tip splitting you open, then his inches rubbing through you, his movements deliberate and controlled yet never too much where it could hurt you.

although before he proceeds, his scarred hand reaches out to your face, gently tilting your chin up to meet his focused eyes.

"you must trust me, you're aware of that, correct?" capitano's deep voice resonates through you, each word a promise of what was about to come as he begins to thrust into you gently, his next following words accompanied by deep grunts and groans, "only then i will teach you on how to receive the pleasure only i can give you."

you nod immediately, eager to feel more, your heart pounding in your chest as his experience in the bedroom was certainly undeniable— not only that but it was sexy, hot as the flames of a pyro user as the authority in his voice made you ache to comply, to please him too with all you can.

the rush of excitement at the prospect of being guided by someone who knew exactly what he was doing was enthralling as your body showed him such, and if you weren't so cock drunk, you'd notice just how hard and messily you're squeezing him right now, your pussy drooling and messing him up until he knows he's yours.

his lips brush against your ear as he whispers, "wrap your legs around me," and begins to instruct, his voice a low growl that made your back arch up immediately.

without hesitation you obey, your legs encircling his broad waist as the closeness was beginning to turn intoxicating, feeling like minutes before you could feel true solace as you felt the strength of his body pressing against yours the more he'd add on speed and strength.

"good girl, very good," he murmurs proudly, his breath hot against your skin as one of his hands slowly slide down your sweat covered stomach before reaching your clit, "now, relax, alright? let me show you how to feel every touch, every sensation of me,"

his hand moves with practiced ease on your clit as he pinches it, tugs and teased it, rubbing over the pearl and igniting a trail of fire wherever he applied pressure the most as your body was responding to his every touch, your senses heightened by the sheer dominance he exuded.

"focus on my touch," he commands softly, your hips curving upwards so that you'd be able to get his cock to sink even further inside of you.

"feel how your body responds to me,"

capitano fucks you with purpose, tugging your hips deeper onto his cock with every grind as your legs begin to shake, the blur in your eyes making it difficult for you to see anything more than his panting demeanor— not only that but his cock was huge, splitting you apart like he's meant to do that, as if there was nothing more than this moment in your life which was deemed important.

the warmth of his drags against your walls pooled into your veins and flesh as his cock fucks and fucks and lets you squeeze his inches in and out until you end up hiccuping of being so full and satiated, almost feeling stupid as he sent currents of electricity straight to your core.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[selfcarecap]

Both

✧ Logan Howlett x reader x Storm

✧ summary: Storm and Logan are both hopelessly crushing on you. When they realise that they both like you, they get into a silent competition about who can win you over first… until they realise there might not be a need to make you choose; or: You have a threesome with Logan and Storm

✧ warnings: smut 18+, threesome, oral, fingering, handjob, unprotected piv sex, creampie, liiittle bit of ass play, use of dildo between reader and Storm, I think those are the main things, reader is sub-ish and Logan and Storm are more dominant, reader gets called baby, good girl, princess, pretty girl, bub, nothing happens between Logan and Storm btw because I’m a jealous bitch, reader is shy and a bit awkward, this is definitely mostly porn but romantic feelings are implied too, reader is bi, talking about coming out, but reader is in denial about her crush on Storm and also on Logan bc she’s oblivious and a lil insecure tbh, mention of being drunk, they’re all mutants but it doesn’t rlly come up, Logan is taller than the reader, the part leading up to the smut is a little unserious lol they’re all just whipped but yeah it’s kind of a different fic from my prev Logan ones idk it’s more just fun for the first part; also alternative title is BOAF but I didn’t know how many people would get that lol

✧ word count: oh. umm 11k (the main smut is 4k at the end if you wanna skip to that loll I’ve put a divider (stars) so you know when it starts, you don’t necessarily need to know the backstory)

✧ note: Recently watched X-Men 1 for the first time (yeah i know) and these two are literally the definition of bi panic whaaaatttttt + also I called her Storm and not Ororo(?) because I’ve only watched X Men 1 where they just call her Storm so that’s the only way I’m familiar with her, so yeah idk if anyone else wants this combination of characters but i def do so <33

-

You’re focussed as you do your daily stretches, completely oblivious to Storm and Logan watching you from the other side of the gym. 

They stare as you bend down into downward dog and you make a little exhausted noise at the stretch. Logan almost flinches with how good it feels to hear it; with his enhanced senses it’s as if you’re moaning right into his ear.

Storm’s eyes trail up your legs, over your pink gym set that clings to you in all the right places. She watches a pearl of sweat slide down your belly – she wishes she could lick it off your skin. Logan thinks about making you sweat more if he finally gets you in his bed one day.

He clears his throat after you slide down to your knees, arch your spine and let out a little contented sigh at the welcome stretch. A movement to his right catches Logan’s eye. Storm is standing right next to him, hands on her hips, mirroring his own position.

Is she here to stare at you too? Not that that’s what he’s doing. He was training here himself and was done a few minutes after you got here. Resting his eyes is part of the cooldown – you just so happen to be in his view.

“You training today?” Logan breaks the silence.

“Trained earlier this morning,” Storm answers, folding her arms, “What’re you doing here?” She sounds almost accusatory.

“Just finished my workout. Making sure she’s fine with the weights.” Their eyes drift to you, still stretching.

“She said she might use weights later,” Logan adds, averting his eyes.

The only thing Logan doesn’t like about his little crush on you – if you can even call it that – (you can definitely call it that) is that it sometimes makes him nervous, even if just a little. You’re so sweet and so shy and you’re usually oblivious to his flirting. He’s not used to that.

“Aha,” Storm nods with suspicion and slowly walks out of the gym.

Logan sighs a breath of relief and hopes you didn’t hear any of that. He stops himself from looking at your cute little gym outfit again and leaves to shower.

-

Later that day, Storm knocks at your bedroom door, “I’ve made lunch if you want some.”

Her voice is so angelic, you think, and you briefly wonder if that’s a normal opinion to have about your friend. It’s not just her voice, but those pretty lips her voice comes out of – just from woman to woman. She has nice lips. That can totally be a platonic compliment.

You realise she’s waiting for you to answer as you just stare at her gorgeous, gorgeous face – okay, maybe you do like her as more than a friend.

“That’s so sweet of you, I’ll come join you,” you put on a high-pitched platonic voice.

You’re sitting down at the table getting your plates ready – Storm made your favourite food, said she was just craving the taste today – when Logan comes in. 

“Brought my own lunch, thought I could join you?” He asks but doesn’t wait for an answer, sitting down next to you. 

“What if you can’t?” Storm says, an eyebrow raised, though playfully. 

“And what would your explanation be?”

“We need girl time.”

You’re looking between them with wide puppy eyes. You’re not sure if they’re being playful after all. Their faces soften when they look at you.

“Maybe Logan can stay for lunch and we’ll go to your room later?” you suggest, “We can have a sleepover tonight.”

Storm’s face lights up, “Good idea.” You miss the smirk she gives Logan, who then huffs. 

Logan takes off his leather jacket. You’re sure that’s just your mind playing tricks on you but it almost looks as if he’s doing it deliberately slowly, showing off his big, defined arms. You’re drooling like a dog.

He reaches across the table and your eyes stay glued to his triceps until you hear your name.

“What?”

Logan smiles down at you, “I asked if you could pass the salt.”

You swallow and nod, eyes searching for the salt, but Storm gets there before you. She firmly presses the salt shaker into his hand, and his arm is gone from in front of your face. You resist the urge to pout.

A moment later though, Logan reaches out for the pepper himself, “Sorry, just needa…” He fumbles with the shaker across the table. This time his arm is angled differently and your eyes land right on one of those delicious veins on his skin. 

Storm is kind enough to pass him the pepper too, but this time you think you audibly sigh with frustration when Logan pulls his arm back to his body. You focus on eating instead of panicking about whether either of them heard that.

Storm swallows down her jealousy after watching you mesmerised by Logan’s arms for what felt like an eternity with no idea how obvious you were being.

She finishes her glass of water and gets up to get more. She looks at Logan as she walks to the sink. Two can play this game.

With her back turned to the both of you, Storm undoes the top two buttons of her shirt and places the pendant of her necklace right between her breasts. When she sits back down, she leans her elbow on the table and pushes her forearm right against the side of her tits. Your eyes are immediately drawn to them like a honeybee to a flower.

Storm bites back a smirk. She remains silent so as not to pull your attention away from her cleavage. She wants you to get lost there as long as you need to.

Logan rolls his eyes at her and asks you to pass some food from across the table, pulling you out of your trance.

You see the next exchange of looks between the two of them – their eyes do all the talking. You look away and realise… are they flirting? You thought they were mad at each other, having a silent argument, but now you think you might have been wrong. They’re teasing each other. 

You can’t decide if you should be jealous or turned on. They’re the two people you have a crush on – again, platonic crushes, obviously. If they got together, in whatever way, at least they’d make a hot couple for you to stare at. But you’d also be devastated that it’s not you who gets to be with either of them.

A quiet sound catches your attention – Storm’s fingernail against her necklace, the necklace that’s nestled right between her breasts. You briefly wonder if she’s trying to get Logan’s attention with it, but in that moment you don’t feel jealous. You just appreciate what’s in front of you.

With your elbow perched on the table, you’re leaning your head against your hand, and you notice too late that your arm is sliding off the table. You gasp when your head loses its support and you sit up quickly, gaze pulled away from Storm.

Heat blooms on your face and you lift your glass of water to your mouth to cool yourself down. But the picture of Storm’s perfect boobs lingers in your mind and you spill half of the water. It rolls down your neck and to your chest, and before you can even consider drying off, Storm’s holding a folded up napkin to your skin, patting from your collarbones to the neckline of your low-cut top. 

“Awh, there you go,” she’s done patting you dry and gives you a reassuring smile. Your nipples get hard at the close contact. You hope she doesn’t notice.

You hear a scoff from Logan. Maybe he got something stuck in his teeth. Or maybe it’s directed at you and Storm.

“Thanks, Storm,” you smile your sweet smile and finish your meal. 

But you’re not oblivious to what’s going on between them – the looks they’re giving each other – and you don’t know if you like it yet. Not that your opinion matters, sadly.

-

You bring your own pillow to Storm’s bedroom that night for your sleepover, but she’s got her bed made up all comfy with more pillows than you could need.

“Didn’t know how many you needed,” Storm tells you from in front of her mirror, “I’m so happy we’re doing this. We haven’t had any alone time in so long. Been so busy.”

She’s braiding her hair for the night, hair pulled to one side as she curls the bottom of her strands around her finger, her beautiful neck now exposed. You think about falling to your knees and begging for just one touch. Maybe draw your finger across her skin, or better yet – your lips. The way friends do. 

It’s between the first and second film that you decide to finally say something. You were going to ask her during a boring scene of the romcom you just watched but it suddenly turned into a sex scene. You did your best to seem unbothered and tried to move naturally, scratching your head and flexing your wrist. You’re not sure if it worked.

“Soo,” you turn to your side to face Storm as the credits play, “You and Logan?”

You reach into the bag of gummy bears between you and Storm, attempting to seem nonchalant, as if her answer won’t affect you.

She looks a little panicked, and you’re afraid you know what her answer is going to be.

“What about us?” she asks.

You give her a suggestive look but she waits for you to say it.

“Well, is there something going on between you two? I felt like you were flirting during lunch.”

“No, not at all,” she says almost too quickly, “We’re just friends, if that.”

“Really? You’d make an attractive couple.”

She lowers her voice, “We’re really not into each other like that.” You believe her, and withhold your big breath of relief.

“And anyway, I prefer women,” she adds.

“Really? I mean, yeah, I thought you might. I wasn’t sure. I do too, by the way. Well, I like everyone. I mean not everyone obviously but I like all genders. Not that that’s relevant.”

Storm smiles at you sweetly and puts a soft hand on your wrist. “Of course it’s relevant. I’m glad you trust me enough to tell me.”

You giggle nervously, “Of course. I trust you more than anyone in this house.”

Storm’s heart swells in her chest.

You continue, “Well, and Logan obviously.” 

Oh.

Obvious, is it?

Well, Storm can work with that.

She picks an incredibly gay film next. She didn’t do it on purpose. She just happened to see the film on Netflix. Sure, perhaps she chose it because there were two women in the picture, but she genuinely wasn’t aware how much sex was in the film.

You’re squirming beside her, even more than during the straight romcom you just watched, and it drives her crazy. She’s just better at hiding it, but she’s turned on too. She wishes she and Logan hadn’t fought over your attention during lunch; if you hadn’t thought that there was something going on between them you might have been ready for more tonight. But she ignores her desire for you, holding her arm tightly as she presses her nails against her skin to relieve some pressure.

When the film is over, Storm tells you how she realised she likes women. When she was little, she had a crush on her babysitter, and ever since then she just knew. You grow bashful when she asks you for your story.

“Uh, Halle Berry as Catwoman? That did it for me,” you tell her as your cheeks heat up. Storm only vaguely remembers the film, but she still has in mind that all of her friends told her that the main character looked like her. 

It’s not that she didn’t know you were attracted to her before, but that solidifies it. Now she just has to get rid of Logan.

-

Storm is busy the next day and you miss her presence the entire morning. You woke up before her, your hands still intertwined from when you fell asleep like that, and – like a fucking loser idiot – you imagined what it was like to be her girlfriend and wake up next to her every day.

Now that you know she doesn’t like Logan, you can fantasise about being with her again without the jealousy looming underneath if he got her before you. And she didn’t just say she wasn’t attracted to him (which is crazy) but that they’re both not into each other (which is crazy of Logan). Both of your crushes are safe.

You decide to try out a new stretching routine to distract yourself from how much you’re missing Storm, your bestie who has no idea how much you like her. The positions are nothing you can’t do, but they’re definitely more challenging than your usual.

Logan’s not expecting to see you when he enters the gym; you’re not normally here at this time.

“Hi,” he says. Your head is between your legs as you’re bent upside down. He crouches down to smile at you from between your thighs.

You grin, standing up to turn towards him to say hello. 

“Y’need some help?” He asks. It’s more of a rhetorical question, he’s being polite.

“Actually, there’s this stretch I can’t get into. I think I should be able to do it, but I just need someone to help push me there.”

Logan huffs out a laugh. This is like the porn he plays in his head every night with you and him in the starring roles. “Of course. Where do you want me?”

-

It’s even better than he could have dreamed. He thought you’d need him to hold your hands and pull to add some resistance, but now you’re bent over in front of him and he’s pushing you into a stretch like a pervy gym instructor. 

You keep letting out these little huffs every time you ask Logan to push you further. They sound awfully close to moans. His knee is pressing into the back of yours like you asked him to but you keep asking for more.

He changes up his position, standing behind you fully. If he moved even an inch forward you’d feel his cock pushing against your ass. Logan would usually feel like he’s taking advantage with all the thoughts running through his mind about little innocent you but you’re the one arching even further into him.

He thanks himself for his level of self control and how he manages not to get hard with your pretty ass pressed up against him. It fuels the animalistic side of him and he wants nothing more than to fuck you right here, right now.

It was obvious that you were attracted to him before, but with the way you’re pushing back against his crotch makes him realise that it’s far from innocent.

“Thank you, that felt really good,” you tell him when you stand back up, losing balance after hanging your head upside down for so long. You use Logan’s chest to brace yourself, palms against the hard muscles there. His hands fly to your waist as he makes sure you’re alright. You nod shyly and, with another quick thanks, quickly make your way to your bathroom.

He’s got you. Now he just has to get rid of Storm, and she’s really good with you.

-

You check in Storm’s room after a long shower, but she’s still out. You find Logan in the kitchen; he’s looking through the almost empty cabinets. 

“Wanna go shopping?”

-

You didn’t think grocery shopping could turn you on, but everything Logan does makes you want to rip off his clothes. 

The little things fuel your crush in more heart-warming ways. Like how he picks all your favourite foods, holds the package up to you to ask for approval and places them into the cart that he’s pushing along with one hand as if it’s not full to the brim. 

He’s got it all down even to the most obscure snacks you like. It’s sweet that he remembers and it makes you as dizzy as you felt during your sleepover with Storm. It’s not like you really have a chance with either of them, if you’re being honest with yourself, so you’re fine liking them both.

But it’s his touch that drives you crazy. 

You’re trying to reach a snack on the top shelf. You’re on your tiptoes and your fingertips are only an inch or so away from it. Just when you’re about to give up, you feel two strong hands on your waist, lifting you that tiny bit with no effort at all. 

“There you go,” Logan smiles down at you, taking the package from you and putting it in the cart. Your body still buzzes with the sparks of his touch. 

You’re not very helpful for the rest of the shopping trip. All you’re doing is staring at him. You almost fall to your knees when he reaches up to the top shelf and his shirt lifts a bit. You think seeing even just a tiny sliver of his abs might be the highlight of your day, until you remember how he was pushed up against you during your stretches earlier. 

God, you’re so into him. 

-

Storm finds Logan as soon as she gets home. She hasn’t had a chance to talk to him since your revelation yesterday yet.

“She’s in her bedroom,” Logan tells Storm when she comes in, assuming she’s looking for you.

“I need to talk to you,” she crosses her arms, “She told me yesterday that she thinks we’re into each other.”

Logan cringes, “What, us two? Is she blind?”

“Apparently. I told her that it’s not like that but I don’t know if she believed it. She thought we were flirting with each other at lunch the other day instead of with her.”

“Alright, we just need to stop making it so obvious we’re fighting over her. Let’s just not get in each other’s way and she’ll choose whoever she’ll choose.”

“Yeah,” Storm agrees.

Logan smiles, “I can’t believe that stunt you pulled when she spilled the water. I mean, come on, that was so unfair, I can’t just press a napkin to her tits.”

She laughs, “Okay Mister Bicep, we both have our benefits.” They smile at each other.

Storm huffs, and reluctantly admits: “I wish she looked at me the way she looks at your abs.”

“I wish she looked at me the way she looks at your chest.”

They’re standing next to each other now, staring at nothing, consumed by thoughts of you. They’re so into you.

“When did you realise you like her?” Storm asks.

“I don’t remember an exact moment but it’s just, her gorgeous fucking face. And her whole clumsy thing just does it for me, I don’t know.”

“I like it too. She’s so adorable when she gets all awkward.”

“It makes me want to fuck her so bad,” they say at the same time, then laugh quietly.

Logan clears his throat, “Not to be crude but I’d fuck all that nervousness out of her.”

“Me too. Until she’s so exhausted she can’t even begin to overthink anything.”

They exchange a look – this is getting too heated.

“May the best one win,” Logan concludes, and with a last nod at each other, they both leave the kitchen.

-

It’s a mutual friend’s birthday that week, and all three of you are going to the party.

You’re walking to your room the evening of the party, and Logan opens his bedroom door just as you’re walking past it.

“Hey, you got a minute?” Logan asks, “I need help with my outfit.”

You smile. It’s an excuse to stare at Logan, of course you’ll help.

He changes his shirt about five times – even though there are only two that he can’t decide between. But every time he changes his top, there are a few seconds in which he’s half naked – his muscular, hairy, gorgeous chest and abs exposed, with that thick happy trail reminding you why it’s called that – and you forget all about what the previous shirt looked like.

You watch him change yet another time, quietly sighing to yourself because at some point you have to decide. You watch him button up his shirt and let your eyes roam over the lower part of his body. 

His trousers are hugging his legs so deliciously, they must be tailored. And that sexy belt he always wears keeps sparkling with the reflection of the light, as if you’re not staring at his crotch enough anyway.

“So this one?” Logan asks. 

“Y-yeah,” you nod, as if he doesn’t look equally good in both shirts anyway. 

“What do you think of the material?” He asks. You smile, getting up to feel it. 

You place your hand on the side of his arm, trailing down it, feeling his muscles while you pretend to be feeling the shirt. 

“I like how it feels,” Logan says, looking down at himself and rubbing his fingers over his clothed chest. You follow, bringing your palm to his collarbone to trace his body, from his chest to his lower abs. 

“It does feel nice,” you say. It’s a normal dress shirt, made from whatever material they’re usually made of, but with the warmth of Logan’s body it’s one of the best things you’ve ever felt. 

Distracted by his body, you don’t realise Logan looking down at you, tracing your every feature with his eyes. He can practically see the water pooling in your mouth, and he doesn’t need his enhanced senses to know that you want him in this moment. 

He clears his throat and it makes you lose your balance, gripping Logan’s shirt to steady yourself as his hands fly to your waist. 

“Careful, bub,” he smiles and you feel the heat on your cheeks. How can this man make you stumble without even moving?

“Are you gonna wear a tie?” you ask quietly — you can’t trust your voice right now. 

“I’ve got one here,” Logan passes it to you. He feels like a tie might be a bit too formal for a birthday, but he won’t stop you from staying close. 

You go on your tiptoes to drape the tie around his neck, nervously fiddling with the fabric. “Actually, uh, I don’t know how to tie a tie,” you admit, giggling at your own words. 

“That’s okay, bub, I’ll show you.” 

You don’t retain any information as Logan helps you with his tie, guiding your fingers with his big, warm hands over yours. 

Your breaths intertwine from standing so close, and you don’t even realise that you’re on your tiptoes again, trying to get as close to Logan as possible. 

You know that he can hear how fast your heart is beating, but when his tie is on and you smooth it down against his chest, you feel his own heart beating wildly against his ribcage. 

Logan looks into your eyes, a soft smile on his lips, and you know what’s going to happen. You’re about to kiss. 

He gently places his hand on the side of your face, leaning in. 

Just when your lips are about to touch, you hear Storm calling out your name from the hallway. 

“Uh, Storm was gonna do my make-up,” you stutter, Logan’s hand still on your face. He silently drops it and smiles sadly, “yeah,” he says. 

He moves back to stand in front of the mirror, taking the tie off again, “Think this is too much.”

You nod, “yeah. Sure. I’ll see you later.”

You walk out of Logan’s room with a weird feeling, but as soon as you get to Storm’s room it’s like nothing just happened. 

It smells so good in her bedroom, a mix of her perfume and hair products and her clean bed sheets. She smiles at you, patting the bed for you to sit next to her. 

You close the door behind you, creating a space for just the two of you. It always feels like that when you’re with her, even when there are other people around. Except for Logan maybe; he’s the only one who can get in without even trying — but it’s still different when it’s really just the two of you. 

You’re immediately lost in the world of beautiful Storm as she presents to you her outfit for the night; it fits her every curve and contour and you briefly wonder how you could ever think of her as nothing more than a friend. It breaks your heart that she only sees you as one, but it doesn’t stop the desire you have for her and the joy you feel when you’re around her.

Storm does your make-up on her bed, both of you sitting cross-legged with your knees touching. Her hand is placed gently on your face as she does your eyeshadow.

“You’re so naturally beautiful,” she tells you in her calm voice, “Don’t really need any of this.”

You feel your heart beating wildly in your chest. She just means it as a friend, she just means it as a friend.

You gulp, “Wish I looked like you. You’re so gorgeous.”

She smiles at you softly, “Thank you, but you’re perfect like this. Lips.” You open your mouth slightly so that she can apply your lipgloss for you. Even though she’s using the applicator, it feels as intimate as if it were her finger.

She called you perfect.

Your eyes go down to her lips and you realise she hasn’t put any product on her own lips yet. You’re not sure what comes over you at your next question.

“You want some too?” you ask, breathless, staring at her lips. Even though you’re not looking into her eyes, you can see her looking down at your lips and she smiles a beautiful, sexy smile and nods.

Storm briefly presses her lips to yours, the way straight girls sometimes do at parties – except that neither of you are straight and you’re not at a party, and you doubt that straight friends feel like this after kissing each other. You pull away instinctively, you don’t want her thinking that you could ever even assume that she likes you like that. You’re just friends, and you know that.

Still, you can’t resist reaching out a finger to swipe the excess product over the top of her lip, and you let out a nervous giggle when you notice that her eyes are still on your lips.

An alarm on your phone interrupts you; you set it for 20 minutes before you have to leave to make sure you have everything. You didn’t notice how close you and Storm were until you both pulled away at the noise. 

The alert pulls you out of your Storm induced warm cloud, an uncomfortable feeling settling on your skin. Being the good friend she is, Storm realises immediately.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, a soft hand on your arm.

“Nothing, I just get nervous about these types of parties sometimes. There’ll be so many people I don’t know, and it’ll be so big and loud. I was thinking of taking a shot or something.”

Storm smiles, “Not that I’m against a little shot for courage, but d’you wanna know something natural that always helps me calm down?”

“Mhm, what is it?”

“I feel like a nice orgasm always makes me calmer. Just a quick one with my fingers or a vibrator.”

Her words knock the air out of you. Somehow, you manage to respond. “I’ve always wanted to use toys but I don’t have any. I should really get one,” you chuckle nervously.

“I’m happy to share one of mine if you don’t mind,” she looks deep into your eyes and all you can do is nod your head pathetically. There are some types of thoughts you’ve done your hardest not to let into your head – she’s your friend, she wouldn’t want you thinking about her like that – and now she’s the one putting them there on purpose.

She twists her lips, almost.. nervously? and, in a low voice, says: “You think an orgasm right now would help you?”

Again, you don’t manage to say any words but you do nod your head, biting your lip. 

“You wanna do it yourself or can I stay?” she asks, one shoulder pulled up seductively.

“S-stay,” you stutter.

“I could eat you out if you want, but no pressure. I just feel like that’s the quickest way.”

You take a deep breath. All kinds of thoughts are shooting through your head, but maybe she’s just horny. During your sleepover the other day, she told you how she hasn’t had sex in a while, and how she gets off on making her partners come, so maybe it’s just a natural desire that she wants to make someone other than herself come again for once. It’s got nothing to do with you, you know that, but you revel in the knowledge that she at least finds you attractive enough to want to make you come, even if it’s just as a friend.

You’re also confused. Your ex always took hours to make you come with his mouth, but, still, you believe every word coming from Storm’s pretty lips.

You nod, “Ye-yeah. If that’s okay with you. That’s a very uh, very nice, friendly favour.” You have to make sure she knows that you’re not delusional, thinking this is more than friendly. 

As you squirm in your seat, you miss Storm’s little sigh of frustration at your oblivion. Instead of pitying herself, she decides she’ll show you why you should be more than friends.

“Y’ready?” she asks, blessing your ears with her bedroom voice.

“Yes,” you breathe. 

Your next breath catches in your throat as Storm leans in to press the most gentle kiss you’ve ever experienced to the side of your neck. She’s warm and soft and smells like heaven.

Her lips slowly press along your pulse point, the tip of her tongue darting out as she makes her way up to your ear. Her teeth scrape along your earlobe, but she doesn’t bite. You almost whimper when her warm mouth is gone from your ear.

Storm slides her hand to your jaw, moving her thumb to your lower lip, “May I?”

You nod quickly, and she pulls your lower lip down, sliding her thumb into your mouth to wet it.

You suck on her thumb, mouth watering at having her so close. Storm takes her hand away from your face with a satisfied hum and gently folds your skirt up to your hips, pulling your panties to the side.

She giggles, “y’got such cute underwear.” You look down and remember the panties you decided to put on today – pink underwear with cherries and a red lace trim. You weren’t expecting anyone to see it, let alone Storm. Before you have time to get embarrassed, her thumb is on your clit.

You gasp at the first contact, and your knees buckle. You’re glad you’re already sitting down. She goes to kneel on her soft carpet, sitting down between your legs.

Her breath is on your pussy and you feel yourself clenching around nothing.

“What a pretty fucking pussy,” Storm whispers, more to herself, and impatiently pulls your underwear out of the way more harshly, making sure it stays there. She looks up at you from between your legs, pushing your knees up to your chest, and you bite your lip.

This doesn’t feel so friendly anymore. Unless she just gets off on making her pretty friends come.

Storm sucks her thumb into her mouth to wet it again and begins to gently rub your clit in circles. She realises how wet you already are and smiles, leaning in to press a kiss to your clit. 

“There you go,” she says quietly, and then puts her mouth on you. She runs her tongue through your folds and she’s so gentle. You’re torn between enjoying it and wanting more.

“Feels so good,” you mumble, and Storm grips the flesh of your thigh to hold you still. 

She smiles against you, “Yeah?” and brings her middle and ring finger to your pussy. Licking your clit, she pushes two fingers into you, slowly making her way inside even though you’re more than wet enough.

Your pussy makes a squelching sound against her fingers as she begins to fuck into you, curling her fingers up to rub against your g-spot. You gasp when you first feel her there, your head dropping to the side in pleasure as you moan.

She pulls her fingers out to suck them into her mouth, tasting you with a satisfied hum, “Taste so good, baby.” You get even wetter at that name alone, squirming beneath her gaze.

“Be a good girl for me and stay still, okay?” she asks, mouth connecting with your pussy again as she looks up at you. You nod desperately, hoping she can’t feel the intense heat spreading over your face down to your chest.

She slides two fingers back into you, fucking you gently but precisely, and you already feel the excitement building up in your belly. Storm’s tongue dances over your clit, exactly how you need it to. The only thing missing now is just a liittle more friction.

It’s like she can read your mind, continuing to fuck into your wet pussy at a steady pace, as she begins to suck on your clit. You see stars immediately.

Her mouth has been on you for only a few minutes when she’s got you coming on her tongue and fingers. You whimper her name as you arch your back, hips chasing her face to prolong your orgasm as it crashes over you in waves.

She pulls her fingers out and rubs your clit for a bit longer until you’re squirming again, patting your pussy before she gets up. “Good”, she simply says, biting her lip.

“You feel better?” she smiles at you, innocently sucking your arousal off her fingers as if it’s something she’s done a million times before. As if it’s a normal thing to do with a friend.

“Yeah, much better,” you smile shyly, wondering how to ask her what that was.

She sits down right next to you, pulling your panties and skirt back in place, keeping her hand on your thigh afterwards. She smiles at you, and it feels so intimate. Storm reaches for the lipgloss again, “It’s all wiped away. Here.”

You smile and let her apply the lipgloss again. Storm places a hand on the bed next to your hip to lean in as she does so. She puts the lipgloss away but stays close. She looks at your lips. Your heart starts beating furiously in your chest – she’s about to kiss you.

This time it’s Logan who interrupts you. He calls out your name from the hallway, it’s time to leave.

Storm sits back, “you ready?”

“Yeah,” you nod. She takes your hand as you leave her room. You don’t let go even when you see Logan, his eyes immediately finding your intertwined hands.

He doesn’t know what it means. There are plenty of platonic girlfriends that hold hands. 

You don’t know what it means either, but you know you like the feeling.

-

You don’t mean to get drunk but that’s kind of what happens when you subconsciously try to keep up with mutants with healing factors that make it almost impossible for them to get drunk.

You arrived at the party still hand-in-hand with Storm and spent the first half joined at the hip with her. Logan couldn’t even get you alone for a second because every time one of you left for the bathroom the other went too without hesitation.

Logan finally finds you alone in the kitchen, looking for another drink.

“Y’sure you should have more to drink?” he smiles.

You notice him then, “Logan!” you run over to hug him.

Being drunk makes you more affectionate.

“Can you mix me a drink?” you ask Logan, his arm still around your waist. It feels good there.

“Maybe you want water for now?”

You pout at him drunkenly, taking a step back and folding your arms, “You’re just jealous you can’t get drunk. Doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to.”

Logan lifts his arms in defence, “‘Course you’re allowed to, bub. Just making sure you’re up for it. What do you want?”

-

You, Logan and Storm end up in the living room at the mansion. You’ve been very entertaining in your drunk state but, more importantly, you decided to hold one of their hands each in your lap in the back of the car on the way home. They know you get like this when you drink, and they’d never try anything with you like this, of course. But they could have a bit of harmless fun.

It’s your idea to play never have I ever, but the two of them are just as happy to. You’re playing the game with water instead of alcohol, but that’s probably better for you anyway.

Storm and Logan resist the urge to make the game sexual; they’re unsure what you’d be comfortable with if you were sober. You’re the one who makes it explicit.

“Never have I ever…” you’re leaning the bottle of water against your cheek to cool yourself down, “had a threesome.”

The room is immediately struck with tension. Logan and Storm exchange a look that you miss. How have they not thought of this before? 

You look at them expectantly.

It’s a perfectly innocent statement – well, innocent in a way that you’re not implying anything to them specifically. Even in your wildest thoughts you’ve only fantasised about one of them at a time. 

Your eyes are on Storm but she shakes her head. Logan drinks. He shrugs, “Been alive for so long, you try some things.”

You’re torn between arousal and jealousy, but settle on arousal. You forget all about the game.

“I’m not that experienced,” you tell them honestly, “I’d love to experiment a bit but I get shy. Not that I’m– um, not a threesome necessarily. I’m just saying.” You clear your throat, averting your eyes.

“How many people have you been with?” Storm asks, voice soft.

You swallow, unsure whether to count her or not. Does it count if it was with a friend? “Just my ex boyfriend.”

“There’s been no one else?” Logan asks, and you shake your head in embarrassment.

“I told you I’m shy.”

“Nothing wrong with being shy,” he says, “It can be endearing. Don’t you think, Storm?”

When you turn to her, her eyes are already on you, “I agree.”

Your face feels hot and you’re suddenly nervous. They’re both flirting with you, if the alcohol isn’t deceiving you, and you don’t know who you like more. You think of some stupid ‘never have I ever’ statement to change the topic. They do you the favour of playing along.

It’s not long until you all go to bed, going your separate ways but not without a long hug from both of them.

-

The next morning, Logan and Storm meet in front of your room. She’s made breakfast for you and he’s brought you water and some aspirin.

“I should have thought of that,” they say at the same time. Logan knocks at your door.

“It’s us,” Storm says after another knock.

You’re not in your bedroom.

They look for you in the entire mansion, but you’re not there.

“Maybe she’s walking off her hangover,” Logan shrugs, starting to eat the food Storm made for you as they’re standing in the kitchen.

They don’t see you all day.

Storm’s in the kitchen in the evening, starting to worry. She knows you’re not far, and you can handle yourself, but she’s worried you’re embarrassed about what you said when you were drunk, or regretting what you did before the party yesterday.

There are footsteps coming down the hallway, and she knows it’s you before you’re there.

“Hey,” she smiles when she sees you.

“Hi.”

“Haven’t seen you all day.”

“Sorry,” you sit down next to her, a shy smile on your face, “Didn’t mean to disappear. I just needed to think.”

Storm breathes. “Yeah, that’s okay. What were you thinking about?” Her heart starts beating faster.

“Well, I’ve been thinking about what Logan said yesterday. And I don’t know if I’m misinterpreting things and I don’t want to make anything awkward between us or anything…” you look at her in worry, and she takes your hand. She’s not sure what you mean but she knows you need her encouragement to say it. 

You continue, “I don’t know but maybe… maybe Logan could show us what a threesome is like?”

All the worry on your face melts away when Storm grips your hand tighter and gets up. She grins as she pulls you upstairs.

She walks you to Logan’s room and, without knocking, pushes his door open, “My bedroom. Right now.” He follows you without question. 

“Lock the door behind you,” Storm tells Logan when you’re all in her bedroom. Your skin is on fire.

“Whats’s going on?” Logan has his arms folded, a smile playing on his lips.

His eyes are on you but you look over at Storm, who just smirks.

“Are you gonna make me say it again?” you ask, horrified.

“You got this, baby,” she tells you, and hearing her call you that again gives you courage.

You look at the floor, “Uh, I don’t know if you two want to do that with me but. I was thinking maybe we could, like, have, um, a threesome?” You were a lot smoother in your head.

Logan raises his eyebrows, “You don’t know if we want to do that with you? You tellin’ me you haven’t noticed what’s been goin’ on, bub?” He’s right in front of you now, hands holding your face.

“Uh…” you know he can feel your skin heating up under his fingers.

“Want you so fucking bad. Both of us,” Logan nods towards Storm.

“Oh.”

(Logan decides this isn’t the time to tell you that his threesome was with two guys.)

They both grin at each other and Logan walks you to Storm’s bed. They sit down on either side of you – you don’t even know where to look. You don’t know who to kiss first.

Storm makes the decision for you, gently turning your head towards her. You lean in without another word.

This time you get more than a peck. Her mouth is hungry and wet against yours, her lips soft. You’re kissing messily and loudly, and you do your best not getting on top of her yet. You pull away only because Logan’s there too.

“Been dying to do that since last night,” you smile.

“I know,” Storm giggles, “Knew you appreciated my friendly favour.” You hide your face in her neck at her teasing. You’re not sure how you could be so stupid. Now you know it’s more than friendship.

“What’s that?” Logan asks, an eyebrow raised.

You bite your lip, “We’ll tell you later.”

Before he can question it, you pull Logan closer by his shirt. His kisses are rougher, but not in a bad way. His beard scratches against your cheek with the desperation in his kisses, and he’s pulling you closer. You moan into his mouth as his tongue slips between your lips, and you grab a fistful of his shirt.

Storm starts kissing the side of your neck, the way she did last night, and you’re so lost in pleasure that you stop kissing Logan.

“Too hot,” you mumble, pulling off your top absentmindedly. They both stop what they’re doing.

“You wear stuff like this all the time?” Logan smirks, finger slipping under your bra strap. You forgot about the lingerie you put on for them.

You shake your head, “Thought we might do this tonight.”

Logan grins and starts kissing your shoulder, pulling one of your bra straps down with his teeth. Storm turns your head back to her and kisses you again – gentle, teasing pecks from her soft lips to yours. She kisses over your cheek and your jaw, begins to gently nibble on your earlobe.

Logan pauses when his mouth is at your wrist, “You know, bub, the problem with pretty lingerie like this is that it ends up coming off again real quick.”

You’re already so horny from two pairs of lips on you that you can barely speak. “Doesn’t sound like a problem to me at all,” you mumble. 

“Can we take it off, baby?” Storm asks.

“Please.”

You feel Storm’s fingers at your back, opening your bra, and Logan is the one who pulls it off. 

They both sigh when they see your tits for the first time, moving to the breast closest to them. Logan thumbs over your nipple, gently playing with it while Storm wraps her lips around your other nipple. You feel yourself getting so wet. 

“H-how about—” you take a deep breath to calm yourself down, “how about you take your clothes off too.”

“How about you take them off?” Storm bites her lip. 

You nod quickly, lifting her top over her head to find her bare underneath. You trace your hands over her perfect tits, cupping them as your thumbs rub over her nipples and she lets out the sweetest moan. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Logan moving to take off his shirt so you quickly turn to him, grabbing hold of his shirt to do it yourself while Storm stands up to take off her trousers. 

You pull off Logan’s shirt and, even though you’ve seen him shirtless before, you’re mesmerised by the muscles and the hair and how good he looks. 

“Y’like what you see, bub?” He smirks and you bite your lip, resisting kissing him. You move on to his belt, trying to ignore how Logan gropes your tits as you get him naked except for his boxers. 

Storm sits between your legs, helping you out of your trousers and you all move to the middle of the bed. You’re panting before anything has even started, “Sorry, it’s just cause I’m excited,” you breathe, grinning with anticipation. 

“It’s okay,” Storm kisses you behind your ear. 

“So are we, bub,” Logan tells you, moving to press his lips to the side of your neck. He kisses further up, to your jaw, while Storm’s lips ghost over your collarbone on your other side. 

Excitement builds up in your belly, your skin tingling all over. You kiss whoever is closer to you – it’s Logan – and start making out with him. The only way to accurately describe the kiss is to say that it’s sloppy. Logan’s devouring you, licking your lips and into your mouth. 

You carefully feel for Storm’s face and don’t stop kissing Logan until she’s right next to you too so you can kiss her instead. She puts a hand behind your neck to pull you in, and you lean your hand on Logan’s leg to steady yourself. 

When your hand moves just an inch, you feel how hard he is, and how big. You force yourself to pull away from Storm, your lips already kissed raw.

Logan’s thigh tenses under your hand, “How are we gonna do this?”

“Don’t know, just wanna cum,” you say. You don’t want to seem petulant, but you’ve never been this turned on in your life. Your underwear is soaked through and it almost hurts how badly you need to be fucked right now.

“We got you, baby,” Logan says, “Can I take these off?” He starts to pull at the waistband of your panties where they hug your hip, and you nod quickly.

Storm gets up to walk to her nightstand, but you can’t focus on her too. Your mind is on Logan all but ripping your panties down your legs, discarding them somewhere on the carpet. 

He takes your knees to push your thighs up to your chest as you lie down, your head supported by a pillow.

“God, look at you. So fucking pretty. Look at her, Storm,” Logan says, spreading you open for him to take all of you in.

Storm smirks at Logan, “I know.”

You feel Logan’s eyes going between you and her, but she’s leaning down to kiss you so all of your senses are taken over by her.

“Got this just for you, baby,” Storm stops kissing you, pulling something out of the drawer of her nightstand. She’s holding a pink, soft silk bag, “Had a feeling you might want to play.” She pulls out a pink dildo, and you bite your lip as she kisses you again.

Logan asks you something twice before you register what he’s saying, lightly squeezing your ankle to get your attention.

“Huh?” you pull away from the kiss.

“Can I eat your pussy?”

You nod, “But I want you inside me.”

Logan smiles, “Alright, just let me get a taste first. Been dying to know how you taste.”

Storm lies down next to you on her stomach to kiss you some more. Her lips trail over your shoulders and move up to your neck.

Logan bends down so his face is between your legs, and he shakes his head in disbelief. “You’re so wet already, bub. So fucking pretty,” he smiles, moving to lick all the way up your pussy once. 

“Here,” he pulls your legs over his shoulders as he settles between them. He pushes two of his thick fingers into your pussy and puts his mouth on you. His tongue on you is fast and skilled, but you still need more.

“‘S not enough,” you whine, and Logan looks up, smiling.

“Need me inside?” he asks, wiping his mouth that’s smeared with you with the back of his hand. You nod, staring in awe as he finally takes off his boxers and you get to see his hard cock in all its glory.

“Y’gonna be okay, bub? It’s kinda big,” he teases. You can see that. But all you can do is keep staring with an open mouth and nod. Storm wipes some spit from the corner of your mouth and gives you a quick kiss.

“You got this, baby,” she tells you, cupping one of your tits while she strokes over your hair with her other hand.

“Yeah,” you say, eyes not leaving Logan’s cock.

“You ready?” he asks, bending down to give you a long, wet kiss.

“Mhmm, need it so bad.”

He chuckles as he spreads your legs for him again, rubbing the tip of his cock along your pussy. It’s so wet you can hear it.

Logan slowly pushes inside you, and you gasp when he fills you up. He’s big, but the pleasure outweighs the pain.

“Theeere you go, bub. So fucking tight f’me. Taking me so well,” he starts to thrust into you in a gentle rhythm, fucking you deep but pacing himself.

It takes you a few moments to get used to his size, but Storm’s kisses at your neck help you ease into it. You can’t believe this is happening – you never would have thought you’d be with either of them, especially not with both and at the same time.

“Feels so good,” you moan weakly, pulling Storm to kiss you again. You whine when she lets go, but she’s sitting up at your side again soon, holding the dildo. You nod before she’s even said anything.

“Let me,” she leans over to Logan, who pulls out of you. Storm fucks your pussy with the cool silicone for just a moment, and it’s wet with your arousal when she brings it up to your chest. 

She teases you first, rubbing the wet tip of the dildo over your nipples, trailing it up your chest and over your cheek, smearing your own arousal over your face. You bite your lip in frustration, and look down to see Logan jerking off to the sight of you spread out for him. You can’t decide who of them you need more.

You’re salivating just at the thought of Storm fucking your mouth with the toy, and you hum when she rubs it across your lips.

“Close your mouth, baby,” Storm says when you’re about to take it in your mouth. She leans over you and lets her spit drop onto your mouth, smiling as she trails the tip of the dildo around your mouth, your lips desperately parting for it.

“Here, baby,” she says finally, pushing the dildo past your lips. You moan around it, taking the silicone as deep as you can. 

Storm fucks your mouth with it and all it’s doing is making you even more horny. The sound of Logan’s slicked hand on his cock stops, and he’s grabbing your thighs to spread them more, finally fucking you again. This time his pace is rougher, and it’s exactly what you need.

Storm’s wet lips are on your jaw as she continues to push the toy in and out of your mouth as you suck on it eagerly. She bites her lip as she leans over you to watch you, pushing the dildo in just a bit more.

“Doing such a good job, baby,” she hums, holding your chin.

“Yeah, being such a good girl for us,” Logan rasps, voice hoarse as he fucks you, “Look so fucking sexy with your lips wrapped around a cock.” You know he can feel your pussy clench around him at his words and he smirks, rubbing your clit with his thumb.

As you focus back on the cock in your mouth, you notice that Storm’s free hand is down her panties, and you can see her getting worked up too, a bead of sweat rolling down the valley of her tits.

You hum around the dildo and she pulls it out. “Wanna eat your pussy,” you tell her, voice almost whiny.

She smiles, sitting up to pull down her underwear. You reach out to touch the flesh of her thigh, and all you want to do is taste her.

You get up, disregarding how Logan slips out of you as you turn around to get on all fours. Storm sits down in front of you, leaning against the headboard.

“I’ve never done this,” you tell her, leaning down with your ass in the air. Logan positions your hips so he can rub the tip of his cock through your folds, and you take a moment to close your eyes and focus back on Storm.

“That’s okay, baby,” she tells you, “I know you’ll do well.”

You nod eagerly as you spread her legs, leaning in to press a kiss to her clit. You’re addicted as soon as you taste her. You open your mouth wider to lick up all of her that you can, attaching your mouth to Storm’s pussy like you never want to let go.

Her hand goes to the top of your head, careful not to mess up your hair as she spreads her knees wider to accommodate you between them.

You lick at Storm’s clit, tongue trailing down to taste her some more. You revel in the sounds she makes when you start to make out with her pussy, all but putting your face in it.

It’s then that Logan begins to fuck you again, pushing his dick all the way inside your wet pussy. He’s rocking into you so much that it makes your whole body move forwards and backwards with his thrusts, and you can barely focus on Storm’s pussy.

“Sorry, bub”, Logan says from behind you when he notices that you’ve stopped, but you can hear from his voice that he’s not sorry at all. You and Storm smile at each other as you grip her thigh to hold yourself in place and go down on her again.

You get the hang of eating pussy quickly, paying attention to the sounds Storm makes and what makes her knees tremble around your head.

She comes against your lips when you suck her clit into your mouth. Her hand is at the back of your head, hips chasing your face as you play with her clit through her orgasm. 

Being between Storm’s thighs as she comes ignites a fire in your core, and Logan’s fucking you so good, getting messy from how close he is.

You push yourself up on your arms to kiss Storm, smearing her wetness over her lips as you make out. She has to hold your face so that you don’t move too much with Logan’s thrusts, but you’re too weak to keep kissing her as you get closer to your orgasm.

“You close, bub? Gonna cum inside you,” Logan grunts from behind you.

“Mhmm, don’t stop, please.”

“I got you, baby, I got you. Doin’ so well,” he grabs your hips to fuck you even deeper as you arch your back. He hits that sweet spot inside you, and one of his hands sneaks down over your belly to rub your clit. 

Even though you can hear him starting to lose his breath, trying hard not to come yet, he plays with your clit in a way that’s perfect, and your orgasm has you biting back your moans because you’re scared of how loud they’d be.

Logan blows his load in you before you’re done coming, and it prolongs your own orgasm as he fills you with his cum, somehow even deeper inside you than he was before.

You almost collapse when he’s done with you, smiling as you roll over to lie on your back.

Storm lies down next to you and kisses you while Logan gets the bottle of water from her nightstand. She drinks a sip first and then passes it to you.

Logan chugs the rest of the water when you’re done, his adam’s apple bobbing as a drop of sweat slides down his neck. You follow it all the way over his glistening abs and down into his happy trail. You notice then that he’s hard again – or still hard – and you’ve finally got the answer to that question you’ve spent nights thinking about, wondering if his healing factor also applies to his sex drive.

“You want more, bub?” Logan asks as Storm starts kissing your neck in that way she knows how to do so well.

You nod as you sit up, Storm getting the dildo as she gets behind you, Logan sitting in front of you.

“Can I fuck you, baby?” Storm asks, hand trailing down the back of your spine and over your ass as you get on all fours again.

“Yeah,” you tell her, looking back at her with a smile, a new desire forming deep in you.

You get between Logan’s legs, leaning in to kiss him again. Every time his mouth is on you, it feels like he’s devouring you, and it’s one of the best feelings you’ve ever had. He’s all tongue and teeth.

“Can I suck your cock?” you ask against his lips, your mouth squished up with his hand grabbing your face.

“Been waiting for this since I saw you for the first time, bub. Don’t know if I’ll last long.” You never thought you’d hear Logan of all people say those words, but it turns you on that you could reduce even a man like Logan to nothing but his most primal needs.

You grin as you wetly kiss down his chest, arching your back so your ass is in the air for Storm.

“So pretty,” she mumbles, lost in her own world as she runs the tip of the dildo through your folds, and you almost lose balance.

Logan’s cock leans against the side of your face as you kiss all the way down to his happy trail, and without further thought, you take him into your mouth. You can still taste a bit of yourself on him. 

Storm starts fucking you with the dildo just as you’re getting into going down on Logan, and you pull your mouth off his cock. Somehow the dildo feels bigger in your pussy than it did with your mouth. Storm knows exactly what she’s doing.

“Didn’t realise how big it was,” you say, steadying your hands against Logan’s big thighs as you fuck back against the toy.

“Not bigger than me, bub” Logan grumbles, and you giggle.

“We know, big boy. It’s not a competition,” Storm tells him, and even though you can’t see their faces you know this just became a competition for them. And you really don’t mind the two people you have a crush on competing on who can make you come more often.

“Can I play with your ass, baby?” Storm asks you when you’ve adjusted to the toy in you and you’re back to trying to stuff all of Logan’s cock in your mouth. You moan around his dick.

“What was that, princess?” it’s Logan who asks.

“Yeah, you can,” you turn to face Storm, “But I’ve never done that before.”

“It’s okay. I’ll be gentle. Logan, can you pass me the lube from over there?” Logan ignores her – it’s not on purpose, but you’ve gone back to putting your wet mouth on him and you’re sucking his cock, and it’s hard to focus on anything but your wet mouth.

You pull away and look up at Logan, and he passes the lube after seeing the pretty smile you give him.

“Fuck, bub, so fucking gorgeous,” he says, bringing your face up to his to give you a kiss and then getting up to sit next to Storm.

“Just relax for us, baby,” Storm says, and you’ll never get tired of hearing her call you that.

Logan rubs a hand across your ass cheek, kneading your flesh. He finds his discarded shirt at the edge of the bed, wiping down your inner thighs that are dripping with his cum to try and stop Storm’s sheets from getting too messy. 

He runs his hand softly up your spine as Storm squeezes drops of lube onto your ass. Logan’s hand goes back down, settling between your legs to gently play with your clit, not to make you cum but to relax you.

“So pretty,” Storm says absentmindedly as she rubs her thumb over your tight hole.

“Can you come over here?” you ask Logan, feeling weird with both of them at your back. You like having one at each side.

“I’m here, bub,” he sits down in front of you again, lifting your head to rest your cheek on his meaty thigh instead. He gently runs the back of his hand over your other cheek as you sink down into the bed with your upper body.

Storm gently pushes the tip of her finger into your ass, “That feel okay?”

“Feels good,” you hum, letting her go deeper as she simultaneously starts to fuck your pussy with the dildo.

“Such a good girl, hmm?” Logan coos from above you and you sigh in pleasure.

“Doing so well,” Storm tells you, thumb hooked in your ass as she begins to fuck your pussy more roughly. You instinctively start fucking back, your hips moving on their own as you get up on all fours again.

Logan’s biting his lip as he watches you take Storm, hand reaching down to jerk off again, but you shove his hand away. “I wanna,” you pout, wrapping your hand around him.

“‘M not stopping you,” he tells you, sitting back as you make him feel good with your hand.

“I’m close,” you say, suddenly feeling the pleasant pressure between your thighs, looking back at Storm who smirks at your words.

She fucks into you more roughly, the added stimulation by your ass making you tip over the edge. You let go of Logan and grab his thigh to keep your balance as your orgasm flows through you, even better than the previous one.

She pulls out of you slowly, rubbing a hand over your ass cheek.

“Wanna make you cum again,” you turn to Storm.

“Later, baby, come sit on my face,” she says, and how are you meant to resist that?

She lies down on the bed and you straddle her, careful to balance your weight out on your knees rather than on her, “you sure?”

“C’mere,” she says, pulling you down onto her face, and you’re lost in the pleasure of her tongue on your clit for a few moments before you can even open your eyes again. You take Logan by his wrist and make him stand up in front of you so you can keep sucking his cock.

You suck on Logan’s dick as eagerly as Storm’s tongue is on your pussy, spit running down to his balls like it’s running down the side of Storm’s mouth. You hover over her to let her breathe but she pulls you back down.

“Don’t worry about me, I can handle you.”

She sucks on your clit with a new intensity, and you forget all about Logan’s cock as it slips out of your mouth and slides wetly across your cheek. You clumsily stick out your tongue, and Logan chuckles, “So fucked out already, hm?” He jerks off in front of your face, holding you in place. He begins to fuck against the inside of your cheek, filling your mouth with his cock.

You hum, not really listening but simply taking his cock in your mouth as the pleasure builds up inside you when Storm pushes her tongue into you. Her hands are on your ass and she sucks on your clit harder. 

Your back arches as you suddenly cum again, cheeks hollowing around Logan’s cock in the process as you suck him in deeper. Storm plays with your clit for a few more moments, lifting you to roll to the side, and your knees sink into the mattress.

“Such a good girl. Y’gonna make me cum again?” Logan says from above, and you look at him with puppy eyes as you take as much of him as you can.

“Been doin’ such a good job all night, baby. You can take him deeper,” Storm says, watching you. You’re going down on Logan but you want her praise too, so you take as much as you can of Logan under both their gazes.

“Fuuuck, baby” Logan groans, his cum spilling down your throat as you swallow him eagerly and he fucks your mouth until he’s finished, the wet sound of his cock in your mouth echoing through the room.

When he’s done coming, Logan lifts you to kiss him, and you know you still taste like him. Storm is on your other side, and you turn to kiss her, both their hands on you as you keep kissing.

-

You’ve lost count of how many orgasms you’ve each had by the time you collapse in a tired heap of sweat and lust and endorphins. 

You’re sandwiched between them, your pussy feeling as warm as your heart.

“Not that it’s a competition but I think I made her come more times than you did,” Logan tells Storm over you. 

She props herself up on one elbow, smirking at you, “You wanna tell him?”

You shake your head shyly, looking over to smile at Logan. You’re close to falling asleep, only half registering what they’re saying anyway.

“Helped our beautiful girl calm down before the party last night. Tasted better than the birthday cake.”

Logan smiles, “Can’t even be mad at you, I would’ve done the same.”

They notice you drifting off, pressing gentle kisses to your lips one after the other. You feel Storm’s hand on your face.

“Look how gorgeous our girl is,” Logan says, and you can hear the smile in his voice. Those are the last words you hear before you fall asleep.

Our girl. You like it. 

-

P.S. reblog to get a kiss from Logan and let me know your fav moment/line/whatever to get an even sloppier kiss from Storm 😳🤭  (no but seriously skhksjhg😭, I appreciate every single reblog and comment a lotttt, even if they’re just short <333)

[itneverendshere]

LOVED YOU AT YOUR WORST - r.c series - SEVEN

pairings: ex!sweethearts; rafe x thornton!reader; rafe x sofia. chapter warnings: mentions of pregnancy, abortion, alcohol, drug consumption.

MASTERLIST

You never spent much time on The Cut, unless you were being dragged by duty, mostly charity events for the local populations, fundraisers for their schools usually.

You always showed up in something tasteful but subtly expensive—pearls, understated Louboutin heels, and a blazer that whispered wealth without screaming it. 

Your mother taught you that.

Now, you sat in Poguelandia, doing god knows what.

The name alone sounded like some bad beach-themed party game. But you kept the snark to yourself—mostly. Sarah swore to you this was her new "thing," her big redemption arc, and who were you to judge? It wasn’t where you pictured spending any afternoon, yet there you were.

Pregnant. On The Cut. Drinking—well, holding—a very flat ginger ale out of a plastic cup.

You smoothed your dress for the hundredth time, light linen in a neutral tone that looked effortless but cost more than most people’s rent, while pretending not to notice Pope and Cleo staring like you were a rare bird that had wandered into the wrong habitat. 

Were they always this... intense? Did people on this side of the island not know how to look away when someone made eye contact? Your mother’s voice echoed in your head. They’re not staring at you, dear; they’re staring at themselves in relation to you. 

Whatever that meant. 

To their credit, they weren’t mean about it. Just... curious, as if you’d wandered in from a wildlife documentary called Kooks in the Wild.

You moved your weight around in your seat, hyper-aware of every grain of sand sticking to your hérmes sandals. Every time you shifted, you felt the grains grinding between the straps and your skin.

Should’ve worn the espadrilles, you thought ruefully, but even then, this wasn’t the world’s most glamorous venue. Sarah had begged you to stop by, though, and you owed her. It was also good for you to leave the house instead of being cupped up inside all alone.

“Okay, seriously, what’s with the staring? Do I have something on my face? Is my makeup smudged? Be honest.”

Cleo snorted. “No, you’re fine, princess. We’re just surprised to see you.”

You were still holding your sad little plastic cup. “Just thought I’d participate in—whatever this is.” You gestured vaguely at the mismatched chairs and string lights that looked like they’d been stolen from someone’s backyard wedding. “Community service?”

It was supposed to come off as witty. You weren’t sure it did.

Pope choked on his drink—sweet tea? soda?—and Cleo chuckled outright. “You’re funny,” she said, and for a moment, you weren’t sure if she meant it.

“Thanks?” It came out like a question, and you wanted to die just a little bit inside.

Pope grinned, leaning forward with a chip in his hand. “You don’t seem like the kind of person who hangs out in The Cut, that’s all.”

You blinked, feigning shock. “You don’t think I spend my weekends in—what is this, a glorified surf shack? I’m crushed.”

Cleo laughed again, which—fine—made you feel a little better.

“Nah, it’s just... you’re different up close. Not like, scary kook different. Just human. Y’know?”

“Great. That’s exactly what I was going for today.”

Pope gestured to the bar. “You want a snack? Chips? Cookies? We have...three options.”

You straightened, eyes narrowing like a hawk zeroing in on prey.

Food. Your stomach growled loudly, as if it had been cued by a stage director. “What kind of cookies?”

He blinked, not expecting you to care. “Uh... chocolate chip? Maybe oatmeal raisin?”

“And the chips?” You pressed, leaning forward now.

“Salt and vinegar,” Cleo piped up, eyeing you curiously. “Barbecue too, I think. Why?”

“Okay, shit, great.” You clapped your hands together decisively. “I’ll have all of it. All the chips, both kinds of cookies. Do you have anything else? Pretzels? Popcorn? Random condiments? I’m not picky.”

Cleo stared at you, her mouth slightly open. “Everything?”

“Yes, everything. Is that a problem?”

She blinked, her eyes darting to Pope like he had an explanation. He shrugged helplessly.

“Woman” she muttered under her breath. “Did you not eat for a week, or...?”

The salt and vinegar chips were divine, borderline transcendent, as you shoved another handful into your mouth. The truth was, you weren’t just hungry—you were still terrified. Every bite, every easy conversation with other people that weren’t Sarah, was a game of jenga to you. One wrong move, one offhand comment, and your secret could be out in the open.

Six more days until this would all be... over. Until the secret growing inside you—the one you’d barely admitted to yourself most mornings—would be gone.

The past three days had been the best you’d felt in ages, cravings and all, thanks to Sarah. She’d slept over, stayed up late talking with you, making you laugh, distracting you from the endless pit what-ifs and why-mes.

It was the longest you’d gone without crying in three months. The longest you’d lived without feeling like you could suffocate at any given moment. With her help, it had been easier to forget—to pretend that things were still okay.

But Sarah wasn’t there, she’d left earlier with John B, something about helping him with a tour.

“You good, princess?” Cleo’s voice cut through your thoughts.

You blinked at her, realizing you’d been crushing the chip bag in your hands like a stress ball. “What? Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You look like you’re about to fight that bag of chips,” Pope said, grinning.

You forced a laugh, leaning back and tossing the bag onto the table. “No fighting. Just... intense snacking."

You reached for the chocolate chip cookies he had offered earlier, focusing on the sweetness, the comfort of food that tasted good for once. Sweet, crumbly, safe. If only the rest of you life felt like that.

Pope and Cleo knew something was up, they all did, probably.

Sarah had been glued to your side, and it wasn’t exactly subtle.

Her sudden move to “stay over” at your place had obviously raised eyebrows, especially since you two hadn’t had a proper conversation in months before all this. And there was the beach clean-up, Kie and JJ had been there when you felt ill, and while you’d been too disoriented to keep up with the cover story once Rafe drove you away, Sarah had stepped in later to handle it.

Heat exhaustion. Overworked. Totally fine.

Still, to your relief, neither Pope nor Cleo seemed inclined to pry, perhaps it was pity, or maybe they were just decent enough to let you keep the little shred of privacy you had left. Either way, you were grateful.

“So,�� Pope said, leaning back on his elbows and flashing you an easy grin, “How are you finding our place? I mean, other than our fine selection of snacks.”

You swallowed a bite of cookie, forcing a smile. “It’s...charming. Rustic. A real je ne sais quoi vibe.” You waved your hand vaguely, trying to mimic the way your mother used to describe terrible restaurants we’d never go back to.

Cleo snorted. “Yeah, that’s one way to put it.”

“It’s cute,” You offered, looking around, “I can tell you guys put your heart into it.”

Pope smirked, lifting a brow. "That's nice of you to say."

You gave a small shrug, feigning nonchalance, but you meant it.

For all the mismatched chairs and questionable decoration, there was something undeniably warm about the place. You weren't used to that—spaces filled with love instead of decorators and florists, it wasn’t bad. Just different.

“I mean it,” you said, brushing crumbs from your lap. “It’s very authentic. ���Pogue Chic’ or something.”

Cleo laughed, loud and genuine, her grin lighting up her face. “Pogue Chic?"

Pope chimed in, “Hey, don’t knock it. We’re trendsetters. Ahead of its time.”

You smiled, but your mind was already falling back to the sand clinging to your dress and the ginger ale that tasted like disappointment. You’d never say it out loud, but you admired them, that ability to make joy out of scraps. It was something you didn’t quite know how to do. Not yet, anyway.

Cleo leaned forward, her elbows resting on the makeshift table. “So, are we going to see you around more? Or is this just a one-time royal visit?”

You hesitated, twirling the rim of your cup between your fingers. “I don’t know. Maybe. If Sarah keeps dragging me here, I guess I don’t have a choice.”

“You always have a choice.”

You didn't know if it was the way he said it, the tone he used, or just your hormones fucking you up, but suddenly there were tears in your eye sockets. You blinked rapidly, tilting your head back slightly and praying that the tears stayed put.

These kids, all of them, sitting here like they hadn’t spent their lives scraping by, like they hadn’t been hurt or abandoned or let down a hundred times over by people they loved and trusted. Yet somehow, they were still full of hope, full of life.

You envied that.

You wished you could bottle it, whatever it was that kept them laughing and fighting and welcoming someone like you—a result of privilege and mistakes and heartbreak—into their home. It was humbling in a way that made your chest hurt.

“Does that mean I can choose to order better snacks next time? Maybe some sparkling water? Flat ginger ale is a crime against humanity.”

Cleo snorted, still not fooled by your deflection, but she let it slide.

“Good luck with that, princess. Our snack budget’s about three bucks and whatever we can steal from Kie’s pantry.”

Pope chuckled, tossing a chip in his mouth. “And you’re welcome to contribute if you’re so concerned about the menu.”

It surprised you, how easy it was to talk to them.

On paper, you had nothing in common. They were younger, grew up in a completely different world, and you were used to the polished conversations of country club luncheons and charity galas. 

Here, things were different.

They didn’t seem to care if you stumbled over your words, if your jokes were awkward or if you occasionally sounded like a walking trust fund catalog. They didn’t care about your last name, your family’s money, or any other things that had weighed you down for years.

That was disarming.

You’d spent your entire life around people who mirrored your upbringing—kids who summered in the Hamptons or Barbados, adults who measured their worth in stock portfolios and vacation homes. Now, you were here, in this cobbled-together haven with salt-stained cushions, sitting with people who’d grown up struggling for things you took for granted.

You thought it would feel more awkward or forced, but it didn’t.

It was easy.

Pope sat on the counter, gesturing with a half-eaten chip. “Serious question. How do you even survive on Figure Eight? Do they hand you iced lattes and designer handbags when you’re born, or do you have to work your way up to that?”

You raised a brow, smirking. “Oh, absolutely. The moment you’re born, they issue you a monogrammed diaper bag and a gold-plated pacifier. It’s very exclusive.”

Cleo nearly choked on her drink. “See, this is why we can’t take you seriously.”

Your phone buzzed on the table, lighting up with your cousins name, interrupting the fun. You sighed, rolling your eyes before picking it up. “Yes, Top?”

Topper’s slightly whiny tone spilled into your ear. “Can you believe Mom’s threatening to rent out the beach house for the summer? Actual strangers, staying there. What’s next? Turning it into a hostel?”

“Tragic,” you deadpanned, resting your chin in your hand. “Truly, a devastating blow for humanity.”

Pope fake-coughed, mumbling “white rich privilege problems,” while Cleo mouthed, “Hostel!” and shook her head, laughing silently.

“I know. Anyway, I’m coming over later.”

“Where’s your invitation?”

You heard him scoffing, “I’m family, I don’t need one.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, feeling the beginnings of a headache. “Top, you can’t just announce you’re coming over. I might have plans.”

“Yeah, and I’m your family, so those plans now include me,” Topper said, sounding entirely too pleased with himself. “Besides, I’ll bring food.”

Across from you, Pope was already gagging dramatically, holding his stomach as if the mere sound of Topper’s voice made him physically ill. 

“I don’t know if—”

“See you at noon,” he interrupted. “Later!”

The call ended before you could even argue, and you set your phone down with a resigned sigh. 

“Looks like I’m hosting a one-man Topper pity party,” you said, crossing your arms and slumping back in your chair.

Pope clutched his chest. “Will you survive?”

You only left once the sun dipped lower into the horizon, you gathered your things promising Sarah you’d drive safely and talk to her tomorrow.

Cleo, Pope and John B were mid-argument about the best way to fix something in the shack. You felt lighter than you had in weeks.

With a few more quips exchanged and goodbyes said, you walked back to your car. That night, the ache in your chest wasn’t completly unbearable. You weren’t okay, but you weren’t drowning, either.

You’d been terrified of this afternoon all day, worried you’d stick out like a sore thumb or say the wrong thing.

But the Pogues hadn’t cared about your awkwardness, your polished self, or even the giant invisible cloud you carried everywhere these days. They let you just be.

The drive home was quiet, but this time you even hummed along to a song on the radio, which was strange because you couldn’t remember the last time you cared about music or even turning on that thing. When you pulled into the driveway and stepped into your house, it didn’t feel as cold and empty as it did last week.

You set your bag down on the entryway table and kick off your sandals, the floors cool beneath your feet. Heading to the kitchen, you decided to see if there was anything decent for tonight’s impromptu early dinner with Topper. The fridge greeted you with a sad bag of lettuce, half a bottle of sparkling water, and a single container of leftover pasta you weren’t sure was still edible.

“Great,” you muttered, closing the door and moving to the pantry.

The situation there wasn’t much better. Sarah’s latest health-kick contributions—a bag of chia seeds and some organic trail mix—laughed at you from the top shelf. You frowned, pushing them aside to reveal a dusty box of crackers and a jar of Nutella.

“Guess we’re going shopping tomorrow,” you murmured, grabbing the crackers and Nutella to snack on now.

You placed them on the counter and glanced around. The sink held a few dishes from earlier —a couple of coffee mugs, a bowl, a plate.

You sighed, rolling up your sleeves, might as well get this out of the way.

Normally, you’d have had someone else to take care of this—stocking the pantry, cleaning the dishes, even deciding on the menu for your lunches. But lately, you’d been scaling back. You hadn’t let anyone go, of course. You could never do that; the staff had been with your family for years, and many of them felt more like extended family than employees. Still, you’d quietly rearranged their schedules, giving them more time off.

They didn’t question it—probably thought it was some new phase, another eccentricity of a bored, privileged young woman.

Truth was, you liked doing these things.

Focusing on something small, tangible, gave your brain a break from drilling itself into a million dark corners. Folding laundry, washing dishes, even the routine of chopping vegetables—it kept your hands busy and your thoughts manageable enough. It wasn’t that you’d suddenly become a domestic goddess or anything. Most of the time, you’d forget to pick up groceries or burn whatever you tried to cook.

It wasn’t about being good at it. It was about doing something.

You looked around the kitchen, noting the little imperfections you wouldn’t have noticed before. A small water stain on the counter from where your glass had sat too long, the scuff marks on the cabinets where your chair scraped when you leaned back. They weren’t problems to be fixed—they were just signs of life.

And right now at that very moment, life felt…okay.

The house didn’t seem as cold or empty when you were doing things for yourself, even if it was mundane work. You finish up wiping down the counters, glance at the time—definitely cutting it close—and head toward the dining room to tidy up a bit.

Topper was not the type to notice if the place is spotless, but you always liked things to look... presentable, yourself included.

You heard the doorbell ring in the distance, he was early as usual, probably checking his watch just to make sure he wasn't a second late.

"Of course he’s early," you muttered to yourself, a little smirk pulling at your lips.

You walked towards the front door, ready to greet him, but when you opened it, your eyes immediately locked onto the large takeout bag in his hand. It smelled... amazing.

Topper grinned at you, an exaggerated flourish as he held up the bag.

“Guess what I brought?”

“You brought... Korean chicken wings? Really?”

“Hell yeah, I did!” He stepped inside, completely ignoring any formalities and heading straight toward the kitchen, “They just opened.”

He placed the bag on the counter with the confidence of a man who knew he’s just won “Best Dinner Host” without even trying. You peeked inside, the crispy wings drenched in a glossy, sweet-spicy sauce that looked downright delicious.

Topper laughed and took a seat, pulling out the wings, not even bothering with plates. “You’re welcome.”

You rolled your eyes but sat next to him, picking up a wing, the heat of it still making your fingers tingle. The crispy exterior cracked open with a satisfying crunch as you bit into it. It was everything you'd hoped for—tangy, spicy, perfectly cooked. You nearly moaned in pleasure, not even caring that your cousin was watching you with that cocky grin on his face.

“You look like you’ve seen the light,” He teased, leaning back in his chair as he grabbed a wing of his own.

“I mean,” you said, savoring another bite, “this might make up for you barging in uninvited.”

“Barging?” He clutched his chest dramatically, mock offense radiating from every inch of him. “I'm saving you from a night of sad dinners, and this is the thanks I get?”

You gave him a pointed look, but the corner of your mouth tugged upward despite yourself.

“Fine. Thank you, Topper. You’re the hero of the day. Happy now?”

“Ecstatic,” he said, grinning as he reached for another wing. “What’s new? Still slumming it with my ex and the Pogues?”

“First of all,” you said, wiping your fingers on a napkin, “slumming it implies I’m suffering, which I’m not. And second, Sarah’s not a pogue. She’s pogue-adjacent.”

“Pogue-adjacent?” He snorted. “You’ve been spending too much time over there.”

“Like you’re one to talk,” you shot back. “You basically live at Kildare Brewing these days. That’s like, one pogue away from full assimilation.”

He opened his mouth to argue but then stopped, realizing you had a point. “Okay, fair. But only because they have good beer."

You hesitated for a moment, unsure if you should even bring it up, but curiosity got the better of you. You hadn’t heard about her in a while, and you knew by experience, that was never a good thing.

“So... Ruthie,” you started, watching him over the rim of your glass as you took a sip.

Topper paused mid-chew, looking up at you like he wasn’t sure he wanted to have this conversation. “What about her?”

“I mean, you two are still together, aren’t you?”

He wiped his hands on a napkin. “We’re… not talking right now.”

You tried not to look pleased, but a rush of vindication bloomed in your chest. You'd grown to hate her, plain and simple. Her recent proximity to your cousin had always baffled you. He wasn’t perfect, but surely, he could do better. 

“I’m surprised.”

“Yeah, well,” he muttered, reaching for another wing. But then he stopped, like whatever he was thinking was messing with his head.

“What happened?” You asked, trying to sound more curious, concerned, than nosy.

You weren’t sure if he’d tell you, but the look on his face made it clear something big had gone down.

He hesitated, debating whether to answer. Finally, he sighed. “She... started a rumor about you.”

Your head jerked back in surprise. “About me?”

“Yeah,” he grimaced like he’d swallowed something sour. “She said you passed out at the beach cleanup and decided to spread some bullshit about you doing drugs.”

You just stared at him. “She what?”

You weren’t sure why you were so surprised.

You knew what she was capable better than anyone, especially when she was bored out of her mind.

“I didn’t believe it,” he added quickly, his tone defensive, as if that made it better. “I told her to shut the fuck up about it, but you know how she is. She thought it was funny.”

“Funny?” Your voice was sharp now, “She thought it was funny to spread lies about me? About drugs? What the fuck?”

“Yeah, it’s so messed up. That’s why I’m not talking to her. I told her if she couldn’t act like a fucking decent human being, we were done.”

You blinked, stunned.

You weren’t sure what shocked you more—the fact that Ruthie had stooped so low or that Topper had finally stood up to her. You shook your head, biting back another nasty comment about how awful she was. You’d been saying it for months, and he hadn’t listened.

No point in beating a dead horse now.

“It’s about time you saw what she’s really like. She’s really bad fuckin’ news, Top. Always has been.”

He gave a low grunt, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the counter. “Yeah. Took me long enough, huh?”

You didn’t answer, just raised an eyebrow and sipped your water.

“She’s always been weird about Sarah,” Topper muttered, almost to himself. “Even when we were together, she’d find these ways to dig at her. Like that one time at Midsummers—”

“—When she ‘accidentally’ spilled her drink on Sarah’s dress,” you finished, rolling your eyes. “Yeah, I remember. She’s always had this thing about trying to one-up her. Honestly, it’s so pathetic. But you never listen to me, so.”

“Okay, ouch.” He threw a crumpled napkin at you, which you easily dodged. “I listen to you sometimes.”

“Do you, though?” You gave him a pointed look.

“Yeah, I do!” Topper protested, though the whine in his voice made him sound more like the teenager he used to be, back when he’d follow you around during family holidays like a puppy. “Just… selectively.”

“Selective listening isn’t listening, dumbass. You’re just proving my point.”

He narrowed his eyes at you but didn’t answer, reaching for another wing instead. He took a bite, chewing dramatically, as if the exaggerated crunch would somehow end the conversation.

“Look, I’ve been saying for months that Ruthie’s bad news. Since she showed up at last year’s Christmas party wearing a dress identical to Sarah’s, just in a different color. You thought that was a coincidence?”

Topper groaned, dropping the wing. “Okay, fine, you’re right. Are you happy now? Can you stop rubbing it in?”

You grinned, propping your chin on your hand.

“Oh, I could. But what kind of older cousin would I be if I didn’t remind you how often you’re wrong?”

“You’re not that much older than me.”

You shrugged. “Old enough to know better than to date someone that awful.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re a genius. I get it.” He looked over at you again, his gaze softer, this time, “But seriously, you’ve been off lately. If there’s something going on, you can tell me, y’know? We’re family, even if I don’t listen to you half the time,” he added with a small smile, though his eyes were searching, hoping you’d let him in.

It would be so easy to tell him the truth—that you were pregnant, scheduled for an abortion in six days, and drowning in uncertainty and dread.

But he was still Rafe’s best friend, and the risk of this ever reaching him was too high. Instead, you forced a lightness into your voice.

“Nothing I can’t handle. And right now, I desperately need the bathroom.”

He looked at you skeptically, not fooled for a second.

“You’re really okay?” he pressed, his voice dropping to a level that told you he wasn’t going to let this go easily, "I texted and called before, you didn't answer. Thought you were resting from the scare."

You’d been having such a calm, easy time with Sarah, you almost forgot about everything else. The thought of picking up the phone, letting all that anxiety and worry back in, just wasn’t appealing—so you’d ignored his calls, but not on purpose. You were doing him a favor.

You plastered on a smile and gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder as you passed. “I promise, I’m fine. Just felt a little light-headed and needed some peace."

His eyes narrowed slightly, unconvinced. “That’s all?”

You forced a giggle, hoping it would sound more genuine than it felt. “Yes, Dr. Thornton. Just needed to eat more or drink water or whatever the fuck it is you’re always telling me to do.”

“Uh-huh,” he said, crossing his arms, watching you closely. “Because you’ve never just fainted before.”

“I guess there’s a first time for everything. Besides, don’t you think I’d tell you if something serious was wrong?”

It took everything to maintain eye contact, your stomach twisting at the lie. He was family, and you wanted to trust him, to let him help you. But you couldn’t. He hadn’t even told you about Rafe and Sofia until you found out by yourself. 

Topper tilted his head, considering you, then sighed and gave a reluctant nod. “Alright, fine.”

“Okay, if you’re done being weird,” You pushed back from the counter, grabbing your glass. “I gotta pee,” you announced casually, as if this was the most normal interjection in the world. The wings were good, but running away was tempting. And also, the pregnancy had made your bladder a ticking time bomb, and you really didn’t want to risk any accidents. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

You offered him one last smile, hoping it was convincing enough. He whined some sarcastic comment about your water consumption as you hurried away, but you barely heard him.

All you thought about was the blessed relief that awaited on the other side of that door.

You didn’t usually spend this much time with Top nowadays—your own tendency to avoid “close” family drama—but tonight had been oddly… nice.

Even if you wanted to wrap your hands around his neck half the time. Even if you hated lying to him. If he’d just pushed a little harder, maybe you would’ve folded, let it all spill right there in the kitchen.

Every time you thought you’d come to a decision, another doubt would take over you, leaving you back at square one. You knew what you wanted, so why was this so hard? 

Topper had looked at you with such genuine concern back there. The “if you need me, I’m here” sentiment was the same one you’d grown up with, the kind of care only a cousin, practically a sibling, could have.

This was hard.

When you came back into the kitchen after taking your sweet time in the bathroom you immediately noticed something was off.

Topper was by the counter, staring at the half-eaten pile of wings by the table like they’d personally offended him. He looked paler, too—almost like he’d seen a ghost.

“Uh…” You stopped mid-step, furrowing your brow. “What’s with the stupid face? Did the wings betray you or something?”

He jolted slightly, as if he hadn’t even heard you come in. “What? No. No, the wings are fine. Great. Amazing, even.”

“Okay…” You gave him a skeptical look, setting your glass down and crossing your arms. 

Topper laughed, but it was this oddly nervous, stilted sound. He glanced at his phone, tapping the screen for no real reason, then shoved it into his pocket.

“You know what, though? I totally forgot—I have something planned. Like, super important. In about… ten minutes.”

You stared at him, unimpressed. “You forgot you had plans? Sounds fake, but okay.”

“So unlike me!” He got up from his chair with such sudden energy that it made you take a step back. “Anyway, I should really get going. Don’t want to be late. Uh, thanks for… hanging out. And for, uh, letting me use your wings as a form of therapy. Yeah. Later!”

And with that, he was sprinting for the door.

“Topper!” you called after him, confused and mildly annoyed. “What the hell is going on? You’re acting fuckin’ weird!”

“Nope, not weird! Just busy!” he shot back over his shoulder, not even looking at you as he opened the door.

You didn’t have time to yell at him before he disappeared out the door, the sound of his Jeep starting up echoing from the driveway a moment later. You stood there bewildered, staring at the now-empty doorway.

Something was definitely up. He was many things—dramatic, stubborn, occasionally insufferable—but shifty wasn’t usually one of them.

You went back to the kitchen, glancing at the counter, ready to brush off his weird exit as just another of his dramatics, when your eyes landed on a random envelope— the one you’d been using to scribble down everything lately. 

Extra small grocery lists, reminders, and, unfortunately, the number for the abortion clinic.

Rafe’s fingers curled loosely around the tumbler of bourbon, eyes set on nothing in particular. The lunch rush was winding down, country club regulars filing out.

He’d been there for over an hour—first, the meeting, listening to those finance guys ramble on about numbers, projections, all that bullshit he usually liked to hear. 

He’d faked his interest well enough, but his mind had been miles away. Mostly thinking about you. And the company, of course, because that was his priority right now. Or, it should be.

The whole thing with you, three days ago, it was a slow-mind-burning headache he couldn’t ignore, even if he wanted to. And he had wanted to, tried to, in fact.

He took another slow sip, hardly tasting the bourbon. Across the room, Sofia was working between tables, balancing trays and forcing her best country club smile.

All he saw when he looked at her was you, it only made him force down another swallow, running his thumb over the rim of the glass, mind somewhere between the company projections and the mess he’d made of things with you. 

It was ridiculous that you were still in his head. He should be thinking about that deal, about locking down his place in the Cameron empire. 

Rafe pushed the glass aside, signaling for the check when something caught his ear—a conversation from a nearby table.

“Yeah, she actually passed out the other day. Pathetic.” The voice was loud, sneering.

A dude’s voice followed, fake sympathy dripping from his tone. “I heard she was a fuckin’ mess after the whole breakup.”

“Oh, totally.” A different girl laughed, high-pitched and cruel. “She’s probably on something. Can you blame her? I’d be desperate too if he dumped me.”

It didn’t take a fucking genius to know who they were talking about. Small town and all, of course, things got around, mostly turning into half-truths and petty rumors.

He stopped all his movements, jaw clenching. His fingers tightened around the edge of the table, the only thing keeping him from breaking something, preferably bones.

They were talking about you. 

About some made-up version of you, the fact that these spoiled, airheaded brats thought they could shit talk about you like that, rip you apart for fun just because you weren’t there to defend yourself made him sick.

He pushed his chair back and stood, crossing the room with long strides. He didn’t care about the eyes following him as he walked up to their table, the laughter stopping the moment they looked up and saw the look on his face.

“What did you just say?”

The girl who’d been laughing, a petite brunette with too much makeup and a self-satisfied smirk, blinked up at him, her smile faltering.

“Oh, Rafe! We didn’t see you there. We were just…joking around,” she stammered, trying to backpedal.

“Joking?” He laughed, the sound making them flinch. “That what you call it? Spreading some bullshit rumor because it’s all your pathetic little lives have to offer?”

The brunette’s face went red. “I mean, we all heard about it. I’m just saying what everyone’s already thinking—”

His fists clenched and his patience, already thin, snapped the second he heard the guy—one of those trust fund preps with an overdone tan and a too-tight polo—chime in.

“Oh, come on, dude,” the guy smirked, leaning back in his chair, feigning nonchalance. “It’s not like she’s worth all that trouble, is she?”

His entire body went rigid, and before he registered it, he was leaning down, letting them feel the weight of his glare.

“Say that shit again,” Rafe taunted him, something almost amused twisting at the edge of his mouth, daring him to keep talking. “I’d love to hear you repeat yourself.”

“Relax, man—”

He didn’t even let him finish, eyes narrowed, his voice dropping to a near whisper, more dangerous than shouting ever could be.

“You think it’s funny? Talking about someone who’s not even here to defend herself?”

The guy’s face paled, and Rafe swore he was seconds away from landing a punch, from wiping that smug grin off his face. Just as he prepared his fist, ready to make good on his threat, he felt a hand on his arm, a small, insistent tug. 

“Rafe,” a soft voice hissed. Sofia. He barely glanced at her, shrugging off her grip.

“Don’t,” he snapped, his voice sharp, dismissive.

He kept his eyes on the guy, who looked more uncomfortable by the second, squirming in his seat.

Sofia’s hand still hovering near his arm, cautious now. “Rafe, come on, this isn’t worth it. You’re better than this.”

She looked scared. Scared of him, scared of the situation. He wasn’t better than this.

He’d never been, and he’d been good enough at lying and pretending for her even to think that.

You would’ve known better.

Fuck, you wouldn’t have wasted time talking.

You would’ve yanked him back by his collar, shoved yourself between him and the guy, shot him that warning glare, daring him to keep pushing you so you’d have to drag him out by force. You always knew when he’d get like this, that edge in his voice, that look in his eye that told you he was seconds away from snapping. You knew better than anyone how to pull him back when he hit that switch.

But you’d never bothered with gentle.

Sofia’s eyes darted around the room, clearly embarrassed, maybe even afraid of drawing attention. He knew this wasn’t fair to her, that she hadn’t signed up for this part of him—the anger, the unpredictability. It wasn’t in his nature to stay silent, to ignore things and walk away. 

He could almost see it—feel it, like a familiar bruise under his skin. You’d shove him hard enough that he’d stumble back, half-pissed and half-shocked. You’d get in his face, not even close to scared, cutting through his spiral. “What the hell is wrong with you, Rafe? You wanna end up in jail over some loser? Grow up.”

If you’d been here, you wouldn’t have given him a choice. You’d have grabbed his arm and dragged him away, kept a grip on him until he’d snapped out of whatever dark place he’d dropped into. You’d push him until he finally let go, forced him to come down from that blinding fury and face the mess he’d just caused. It was the only way he’d ever been able to listen—when you pushed him to wake up, forced him to look at himself and see just how reckless, just how stupid he was about to be.

But Sofia? She had no idea. 

She thought saying “you’re better than this” was going to do anything, that with a light touch and some empty words, he’d suddenly be calm, reasonable, soft. 

But he’d never been that way, never with you, never with anyone.

She hadn’t done anything wrong; she’d just seen the version of him he’d wanted her to see. The version he’d put together, patched up and polished, all so he could convince himself he was something he wasn’t.

With her, it was easy to pretend. He could smooth his sharp edges, show her just enough of himself to keep her interested without letting her close enough to see the mess underneath.

He’d let her believe he was the kind of guy who could just calm down, let things slide. The kind of guy who’d listen. He’d wanted her to believe he was controlled, calm. Sofia’s softness had appealed to him, but now, it only highlighted the differences between them.

With you, he’d never had the luxury of pretending.

You’d seen through him from the start, never let him get away with putting on some act.

You hadn’t let him pretend to be better than he was, hadn’t let him off easy when he’d tried to brush things off or shut down. You knew every side of him, even the ones he’d rather ignore. You’d always known exactly who he was, who he wasn’t, and you’d never been afraid to remind him.

He didn’t want to let it go, didn’t want to give the guy an inch of leeway to think he’d won this. Rafe sighed and released his grip, his hand falling from the table as he finally stepped back. Sofia relaxed, giving him a relieved smile, but it only made him feel emptier. 

“You talk about her again and I’ll fucking kill you, you hear me?” 

The guy sputtered, looking down, embarrassed and shaken. He muttered something under his breath that sounded like an apology, but Rafe didn’t care enough to hear it.

Sofia’s hand was still on his tail when he left, and as soon as he walked out of earshot of the table, she followed him, crossing her arms. Her eyes narrowed with an expression he’d never seen from her —disbelief. 

“What was that?”

Everything.

Rafe didn’t speak. He was staring past her, back at the group, mind far from the confrontation and miles away with thoughts of you. She seemed to notice, her lips pressing together.

“I can’t believe you did that. You threatened to kill him, Rafe. Over what, a stupid rumor?”

A stupid rumor? She was making him feel like he was out of control, irrational—even though he couldn’t explain why this mattered so much.

“You wouldn’t get it. It’s not your problem.”

She flinched a little, her face falling, but to her credit, she didn’t look away. “You’re right. I don’t get it. Tell me.”

He wanted to believe that it could work with Sofia.

Nice girl, pretty too. She laughed at his jokes, and she didn’t call him out on his bullshit, because she didn’t even know that side of him existed. On paper, she was perfect. But she wasn't you.

He looked back at her, her worried eyes scanning his face.

It was frustrating—seeing the fear, feeling her judgment when she didn’t even know what she was judging.

To her, this was just some meaningless outburst, something he could turn on and off at will. This wasn’t her fault. He knew that. He hated how this wasn’t something he couldn't put into words, not in any way that would make sense to her.

“Forget it, alright?” his tone was harsher than he meant.

Sofia shook her head, clearly not willing to let it drop this time.

“Why would you get so worked up over something like this?"

To her, that’s all this was—just noise, harmless, inconsequential. 

She looked up at him expectantly, her brows furrowed in confusion, waiting for some reasonable answer.

And it pissed him off, how she kept waiting, expecting him to offer some calm, measured response when he didn’t even understand it himself.

Sofia’s eyes softened, but it only irritated him further.

“She’s nice,” Her words drifted out casually like she didn’t know she’d just cracked him open. “She defended me, last week, when I was serving brunch.”

He couldn’t stop the self-loathing.

You had always been that way—ready to defend anyone, even when you were the one hurting. Rafe winced, hating himself for it, hating that you could still be so good even after everything. He swallowed hard, keeping his expression blank.

“Did she?” he muttered, trying to sound indifferent.

“Yeah,” Sofia replied, watching his reaction with mild curiosity. “Guess I wouldn’t have expected that.”

Rafe’s jaw clenched, that familiar hurt in his chest.

His mind was already conjuring all the times you’d jumped in, backed people up, and called out anyone who crossed a line. Even when it came to people you barely knew.

It made him feel like the worst person in the world, knowing that you’d been there for Sofia of all people, that you’d shown her that same loyalty. It made him hate himself even more.

His phone buzzed, saving him from the inevitable conversation, his hand brushed the side of his face as he glanced down at the unknown number flashing across the screen. He didn’t hesitate, before swiping the answer button.

“Hello?”

“Mr. Cameron, this is Dr. Harris from the hospital,” the voice on the other end said. “We’ve been trying to reach Miss Thornton about the blood work results from her visit three days ago. Unfortunately, there’s been an issue with our system and a few patient’s data has been deleted, except for the emergency contact information.”

Rafe’s stomach dropped.

He was still your emergency contact, not by choice probably. The hospital was calling about your blood work.

Was something wrong?

His blood ran cold. “Is she okay? Did something happen?” The urgency in his tone made Sofia’s eyes widen again, her confusion growing.

“We’re concerned about a possible infection. We need to run more tests to rule it out, but the symptoms suggest it could be more complicated. We must check thoroughly to be sure.”

“An infection?”

“Yes, but it could be nothing serious. We just need her to come in as soon as possible for a follow-up,” Dr. Harris explained.

There was a pause as if he expected Rafe to say something reassuring or offer to pass on the message. 

Sofia’s brows knitted together as she watched him. “Rafe?” 

“I’ll tell her,” he said, the words cracked in his throat. The doctor thanked him and hung up.

He stared at the phone waiting for it to ring again with more news, a reassurance that this wasn’t as serious as it sounded. 

You probably hadn’t changed your emergency contact because it slipped your mind.

He couldn’t stand the idea that something could be wrong, and he was not the one you called when you needed someone. All he’d ever done was mess things up between you.

“What’s going on?”

How the fuck was he going to tell you when you'd blocked him everywhere?

He couldn’t call, couldn’t text, couldn’t even show up unannounced without risking the usual argument that would end with you screaming at him to get out, or worse, you looking at him with that unforgiving stare.

He knew you’d locked every door, bolted every window to keep him out, and he deserved it. 

“It’s nothing,” he said, the lie slipping out automatically. He could feel her studying him, waiting for another explanation he also didn’t have the patience to give.

Maybe Topper could help.

The irony wasn’t lost on him—he’d given your cousin the mission of checking in on you, playing the careful messenger while Rafe kept his distance. That was supposed to be him.

But the reality was you hated him now, hated him enough that Topper was a safer option and yet, the private information still landed on his lap. As if he still had the right to be in your orbit, let alone the person trusted with this kind of news.

It felt wrong.

He knew you were going to hate him even more for still having access to your private details. It wasn’t really his fault—the hospital called him. He should have hung up the moment the hospital mentioned your name, told them they had the wrong guy. But he didn’t. He listened. 

“If you need to go—” she started, trailing off when he didn’t answer. Her voice softened, tentative. “It’s about her, isn’t it?”

Rafe’s jaw ticked, and he looked away, out at the horizon where the sun was setting.  “Yeah,” he muttered, not bothering to lie this time.

His thumbs hovered over the keyboard. He typed something out, then deleted it, then typed again.

Finally, he just went with the simplest thing he could think of and hit send.

Can we meet up? Tannyhill in 30. I think I know what’s wrong.

He half-expected some lame excuse or joke from Topper. Instead, the text he got made the deep lines across his forehead make an appearance.

Shit, you do???

Did the fucker already know?

Did he suspect? Or was this just the kind of baited question someone asked when they thought they were the last to know something big?

He frowned, gripping the phone tighter.

If Topper did know, why hadn’t he said anything?

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[jjunieworld]

THE LIGHTHOUSE ˒˒ 박성훈 ▸  𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲!

the land has always been something you desperately wished you could walk on. be like the humans and walk among them. one dark and stormy night, you are granted your wish—but, it comes with a deadly price. and you only have one month to decide if you’re willing to pay it.

pairing ⸝⸝ park sunghoon 𝑥 fem!reader 𓄵 𝓯eat. ꔛ 𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘦!

genre ⋆ 📓 ⸝⸝ strangers to lovers, angst, kinda love at first sight, smut, fluff, mermaid!reader, lighthouse keeper!sunghoon, magic, mermaid au, fantasy, early 1900s au inaccuracies, slow burn, slice of life, forced proximity, classic story of a mermaid washing up on shore with a twist, lighthouse / lighthouse keeper inaccuracies, the little mermaid references, slight smidge of horror elements

warnings ⸝⸝ death / themes of death, descriptions of harsh sea waves and storms, mentions and depictions of loneliness, reader has a lot of mermaid attributes, reader is new to the human world, unprotected sex, soft dom!sunghoon, sub / dom dynamics, a lot of skinship (they’re touch deprived) , really soft and desperate sex, a lot of yearning (sunghoon is always popping a boner), petnames (baby, darling, sweetheart, my pearl), clit stimulation, fingering, brief nipple play, creampie, riding, some aftercare (on & off page)

kipo’s note ⸝⸝ listen to the playlist (in song order) here!! hehe i spent wayy too much time on it.. (╯ ◡ ╰ “) i also spent too much time going into a deep dive on lighthouses and lighthouse keepers and how they worked back in the day,,, i hope that you enjoy!! ^^

 ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏  ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏  ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏͏ ͏  ❨ 16k ❩    ╱    ❨ 𝓶.list ❩ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏  ͏ ͏  ︵͡   𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 (⌒‿⌒)♡

you knew that traveling to the surface was forbidden, but you couldn’t help the way that it called to you deep in the depths of the sea. like a moth to a flame, you swam and swam until you could feel the bright sun on your wet skin. until you could hear the sound of the waves crashing onto the nearby rocks and the distant chatter of the village nearby.

it filled you with such profound longing and want that the only thing that helped ease the feeling was to watch the way the landwalkers went about their days. you watched as giggling landwalking guppies darted from place to place and under their parent’s legs. as people shouted to passersby about the wares they were selling and people walking arm in arm.

you made sure you were always carefully hidden behind some rocks so that you weren’t seen and that your dark blue shifting tail blended nicely with the water. still, you watched and watched for what seemed like hours.

you wondered what it felt like to be able to walk on land, to feel the rocky surface beneath your feet. does it hurt? how does one stay upright? is land walking to the landwalkers the same as swimming to the merfolk? these were all questions you desperately wanted to know the answers to.

swimming away from the village’s edge, you waded through the fog along the ocean’s surface. you were just about to dive when a flickering light in the distance caught your eye. cautiously, you decided to see what it was.

landwalker’s buildings were already tall as it is, but this one was completely different. it pierced through the sky with a beacon of light shining from the top—almost like a second sun being held up. your eyes widened as you drew closer, ducking behind some rocks as you surveyed the area.

it was on a small island of it’s own, not too far away from the island the village sat on, but far enough that you’d have to swim for a short while to get from island to island. the building was white and a deep red color like coral on the seafloor. you stared in amazement at it, climbing up onto the rock to get a better look. a tiny building was attached to the bottom of it that looked like it had seen much better days. it was beautiful, you’ve never seen anything quite like it.

movement in your peripheral had your head snapping in it’s direction. the door of the small attached building swung open and a man carrying a box stepped out of it, the hat he was wearing nearly slipping off of his head and exposing his dark locks of hair. you ducked down on the rock a little, making sure that you were covered by the fog. he sat the box down near the entrance of the building just as a loud sound had you jumping out of your skin.

it was a deep, almost guttural sound. you tried to look for the source of it and saw that it came from the large horn near the small building. birds flew from their perches to a quieter place and you slid off of the rock, drawing nearer to the shore.

your father’s warnings rang deep inside you, yet you tried to push his words down. don’t go near the surface, my child. the dangerous landwalkers will lure you in and capture you so that you are never seen ever again. they cannot be trusted.

you hid behind some more rocks and watched him work. he kept disappearing into the small building and if you looked up, you could almost see him between the flickering light. if he wasn’t inside, he was out tidying the area around where he worked—stacking and fixing various things. occasionally, he would also look out to the sea, seemingly monitoring the waves and the fog before scribbling something down in what you think was called a book. when he did, you sunk down into the water until only your eyes and the top of your head was above the surface.

what interested you the most was how the man seemed to be alone. why was he so far away from the rest of the landwalkers? what made him different? what was this building that he was working on? you had so many question and so little answers—and nobody to ask.

you couldn’t tell any of your people that you watched the landwalkers daily. you would get into an enormous amount of trouble and would never be able to see the surface again.

instead, day after day, you watched the man work—no longer so curious about the ventures of the village landwalkers. the more you watched him work, muscles straining against his rolled up sleeves and brows furrowed, the more you noticed him. he was very handsome in a landwalker sort of way, the most beautiful out of them you’ve seen so far. you wondered if he had a life outside of this building on the shore. perhaps it was back in the small house a short walk away from the shore? was his whole life on this tiny island?

dusk fell and a cold breeze swept up the shore from the waters. you had spent the whole day again watching the man work at what you now knew was called a lighthouse. he was wiping the attached building of the lighthouse down after the recent rainstorm, frustratingly muttering under his breath.

you noticed that he didn’t talk much, only a simple, quiet word here or there. at first, you thought he couldn’t speak, until now.

“shit!” he hissed as he threw the rag down onto the ground. the paint was starting to peel off the siding on the building from the harsh winds and water. “now i’m gonna have to paint this whole building again.”

you giggled at his reaction. it must’ve been too loudly because his head snapped in your direction and you quickly sunk down behind the rocks. this was dangerous, you knew that, and it already seemed that you were getting too comfortable being out in the open. yet, you giggled to yourself more, more quietly this time as bubbles rippled up from the water. the man’s brows furrowed but he shook his head a little. “come on, sunghoon. don’t start losing it now,” he murmured.

sunghoon, that was his name. you surfaced from the water a little and tried his time on your tongue. “sung… hoon…” you spoke softly before smiling. “pretty.”

the light at the top of the lighthouse burned brightly against the darkening sky, signaling that it was past the time for you to start swimming home. you turned and began swimming away from the shore, starting your journey.

something sat heavily in the pit of your stomach and it was beginning to weigh you down. it was that same longing and want, this time more pronounced and refusing to be swallowed and digested. you stopped swimming and stared up at the bright, almost full moon in the sky.

you would give anything to walk on land. to experience life as a landwalker does and be on land. you didn’t want to be confined to the sea anymore. you didn’t want to have a tail anymore—you wanted legs. you wanted to be a landwalker, not a mermaid.

your heart racing, an old story your father once told you interrupted your thoughts. the story of a young mermaid trading her tail for landwalker’s legs.

it was supposed to be a cautionary tale, one to ward off small merfolk from intermingling with the landwalkers, but to you, it was an answer—one you were desperate for. the tale talked about how the mermaid visited a sea witch deep down in a cave at the bottom of the ocean and begged her to change her tail for legs.

the witch and her struck a deal: the mermaid was to sacrifice four of her pearlescent scales in exchange for a week on land. during said week, the mermaid had to find the witch various hard-to-find ingredients and bring it back to her by the end of it. if she didn’t fulfill her end of the deal after the week was up, her tail would come back and she would never be able to have legs again. only, swimming would not be as easy or as painless as it once was.

you made your decision. you were going to find the sea witch and strike a deal with her the same way the mermaid from the story did. what were a few scales and ingredients when you could finally walk on land? finally have your dreams become reality?

your next course of action was to find out information on where the sea witch’s cave could be.

instead of spending your time up at the surface, you instead kept beneath the water. you asked your family and friends about the sea witch in subtle ways, blaming your questions on your curiosity and love of storytelling. as days passed, the information you were provided pushed you more and into the direction you were hoping for.

it felt weird to be amongst your people again. you were so busy vicariously living with the landwalkers that you forgot how different interactions between merfolk and landwalkers were. instead of walking or running, it was swimming and tail flapping. instead of giggles, it was a flurry of bubbles and muted speech. merfolk swam with their tails on top of one another and their arms intertwined ahead of them. strangely, you felt out of place. everything felt so different.

you were going over the information you had gathered when suddenly the pieces all fit together. you twirled in excitement—the sea witch… you finally found her! you were going to have your legs that you’ve spent so many nights dreaming of, and you didn’t want to waste anymore time.

as the light rays dwindled, you quickly swam towards the location, sneaking past any merfolk who were still out of their seaweed beds. deep, deep down you swam and swam until you could barely see ahead of you. that was, until a sparkling light appeared and guided you—the witch’s torch.

you darted towards it, a nervous excitement bubbling inside of you as you drew closer and closer. when you reached it, a large opening with more sparkling lights beckoned you inside and you hesitantly followed them one by one.

the swim felt like it lasted an eternity as you twisted and turned until you saw a bright light that almost blinded you at first look. you swam towards it and surfaced from the water inside a decent sized pool in what looked like a rocky hut.

“ah, a visitor!” a voice said and you swung around. a woman—a landwalking woman—was in front of a shelf of various trinkets and knick knacks next to a table full of jars of spices and herbs. she turned towards where you surfaced with a bright smile that was all teeth. her dark, shadowed eyes widened and a chill ran down your spine all the way to the fin at the end of your tail. you could feel the waves of power radiating off of her, and it made your heart beat faster in a twisted excitement.

she was real. the sea witch was real.

she walked towards the pool you were in, “don’t get too many of those anymore, especially from the depths. must be all the stories your people tell of me.” she chortled and you tilted your head in confusion before realizing that she had made a joke a second too late. the witch waved her hand in the air at your silence, “i kid, i kid.”

pushing away from the shelf, the witch stepped towards you. her tattered dress was ripped at multiple points at the bottom so pieces of fabric hung from it and dragged along the stone floor. when she moved, the shells, sticks, and pearls she wore clacked together in an alluring harmony. she bend down at the edge of the pool so she was eye level with you, her messy hair fanning around her face.

“what deal did you come to make, little mermaid?” she asked, her eyes still wide and her smile still teeth.

you waded backwards in the water slightly, but stood your ground. you swallowed, willing your voice to speak. “legs…” you trailed softly before licking your lips. “legs,” you said, louder and with more confidence, “i want to trade my tail for legs. i wish to walk on land like the landwalkers do—be a landwalker like them.”

“legs,” the witch drawled out before tsking as she turned away from you in a large, dramatic motion. you grabbed a stone bowl from the top of one of her shelves, picking here and there at spices and herbs and trinkets as she moved about the room. “always the legs,” she continued.

your brows furrowed in worry. what if she didn’t accept your deal? what if she was too tired of giving foolish mermaids like you legs to walk on land with and denied your wish?

the witch suddenly turned towards you and you jumped. “as i’m sure you know, everything always comes with a price—and this is mine. i will accept your offer, but in return you must do something for me as well.” you nodded furiously, “y-yes! anything… i’ll do anything!”

the sea witch smiled and it lacked all of the playfulness she previously possessed. instead, it was almost cold, like she had flipped a fin.

“in one month's time, you must cut out the beating heart of the human you love the most and bring it to me.” the sea witch slowly leaned away from you, her eyes remaining on yours. “if you don’t fulfill your end of the deal, you will never walk on land again and you will never swim in the recesses of the ocean again. you will instead turn to seafoam and be nevermore. that is your price, guppy.”

your eyes widened in shock and in fear. “b-but, in the story—” the witch swiftly interrupted you, her voice harsh and grating. she leaned down to you again so fast you had no time to process it. her teeth were sharp and her eyes were almost fully black. “in the ‘story’ i gave that halfwitted thing a single day and every step she took felt like standing upon urchins. be grateful, girl, that i’m showing you kindness. now what will it be, do you accept?”

the clacking of her jewelry sounded like a ticking clock, urging you to answer quickly. “i accept!” you blurted. your eyes widened further and you gasped softly at your words. the sea witch’s sharp smile grew.

she got in the water and hooked her arms under yours and dragged you towards the stone floor. “yes, child!” she shouted and smoke rose all around you out of the bubbling cauldron you suddenly noticed. “a deal has been made—one you will die for to break! there’s no turning back!” she cackled loudly and she dragged you fully onto the ground, dropping you unceremoniously. you sat up, fear flooding your entire body as you froze.

“there’s no turning back! there’s no turning back! a debt to be made. the beating heart shall be mine! for all you have sacrificed will be paid!” the witch shouted, cackling to herself.

the room grew dark and the light from the cauldron shimmered off of your deep blue scales. before you could do much else, the sea witch plucked four scales from your tail and you hissed out in pain. she dropped them into the cauldron along with the trinkets and such from the stone bowl, mixing them all together with a hearty laugh.

you began to rise in the air and your tail started to tingle before becoming so unbearably hot. you screamed out in pain as the smoke clouded around you and left you blind to the rest of the room. from beyond the fog, you heard the witch shout, “tonight, a vicious storm will brew and take you on your journey. a month from now the same storm will return, with or without you.”

you could barely hear her between your screams. one by one, you scales started to be ripped from your tail, withering away into nothingness. the more you writhed in pain, the more it felt like your tail was being split in two. you rose further into the air and noticed the suspended pool of water hanging above you. suddenly, you couldn’t breathe. like your gills closed and you were suffocating. the top of your head rose into the water and despite not being able to breathe, you screamed—a shrill sound full of unabashed fear.

from the distance, you heard the sea witch’s voice again. this time she wasn’t shouting, but instead chuckling in satisfaction. she continued, “either way, i’ll have a heart.”

as you entered the water, you were whooshed into a current that helped you breathe again. you gasped in large breaths as you spun around disoriented. the pain you felt was unimaginable. your tail felt as if someone was ripping a leg off a starfish. except, instead of growing back the same, it was growing something else entirely. more scales ripped and withered off of you as your tail split.

you tried to think about the future. of how worth it this will all be in the end when you have your legs and you finally walk on land, living amongst the landwalkers—or humans, as the sea witch interestingly called them.

but, a thought prodded at your mind. the bargain you made and the heart you will have to bring back.

you didn’t think you could do it—didn’t have the stomach to cut out someone’s heart, but you had no choice. not anymore. who’s heart will you cut out? will you find some unsuspecting victim and force yourself to love them until you actually do so in the end you can rip out the heart they entrusted you with? it was all so wrong. what have you done?

the current led you to the sea’s surface and in the heart of the most vicious storm you’ve ever seen. waves crashed against you and pummeled you back down under the surface, yet each time you emerged again and again. harsh, stinging winds slashed across your skin, yet you remained unharmed. you hoarsely yelled out in pain and looked down at the beautiful blue tail you once had, the scales a myriad of shades. you didn’t even recognize it anymore.

instead what you saw was a half tail, half pair of legs monstrosity. it perfectly described where you were at this current moment—between the waves of the watery life you had been stripped from and being pushed forward to the dry land of the life you will come to know. in the distance you heard that loud, guttural sound that you recognized so well. you turned and saw the beacon of fluttering light emitting from the lighthouse standing tall against the storm.

a dark thought polluted your mind. you weren’t expecting to be spitted out so close to the village. you mind traveled to the man working the lighthouse as you fought against the waves to breath the cold air.

what if it was his heart you cut out?

no… you didn’t want to think that. didn’t want that thought to be true. anybody, but him. anybody, but sunghoon. you’ve grown too fond of him during the times you watched over him—you can’t let his already seemingly lonely life be cut short by getting his heart ripped out. you wouldn’t allow yourself to do that to him.

the tormenting waves seemed to have other plans for you. they took you directly towards the shore where the lighthouse sat and you started to cry.

shock jolted you as you felt wetness roll down your cheeks just as the rain started to pound down harder from a light splash. you touched your cheeks with trembling hands. the change was all too much too fast. you weren’t expecting it to be this way.

when you heard the story of the mermaid trading her tail for legs it was nothing like this. she emerged from the water like a graceful swan, a beautiful sunset behind her that reflected off the calm sea. you couldn’t help but feel betrayed by the lies you were told.

you didn’t feel graceful, you felt forsaken. this was a journey of death, not rebirth.

the closer you got to the shore, the more regret started to pierce deep inside you. it didn’t help that the storm clouds seemed to break so the moon’s light could illuminate just you. it all felt so unfair. all you wanted to do was walk on land, why must you endure all this? why must you love someone deeply only to rip their heart out? and why were the sea witch's waves so hellbent on that person being sunghoon?

why did excitement still flood in the pit of your belly at the thought of the life you may live after?

a second, smaller light flickered on at the tiny island you were heading for and you knew it was him. you watched as the small light raced towards the shore almost as fast as you were being pushed to it. the two of you were heading towards a deadly collision and you weren’t ready for it.

the waves spitted you out and you washed up onto the sand of the shore. you felt weak and dizzy and something else entirely that you couldn’t name or figure out. your stomach rumbled like the thunder and your head ached. you raised your head as much as you could and looked down at your new body. you were in so much pain that you almost felt numb.

sniffling a little, a laugh spilled from your lips and the corners of your mouth pulled upwards. you have legs. they may be painful at the moment and slightly numb, but you finally had them. you felt every grain against them and dug your legs further into the sand. the last remaining scales of your former life surrounded you like glittering rocks, you were surprised that they hadn’t withered away like the rest of them.

you looked up at the full moon, glowing and huge. like a pearl in the sky. you smiled wider before inhaling deeply. you felt brand new. maybe the whole journey was worth it in the end. a wave of sleep hit you and you struggled to keep your eyes open.

just as your eyes began to close fully, a warm light draped over your body. sunghoon’s worried face appeared in your view just as another wave of sleep overcame you, the ghost of a smile on your face.

as you drifted off into the unknown, the claws of regret sank into you again and it’s almost as if you could hear the sea witch’s cruel cackling. you can’t rip out his heart—you just couldn’t. you wouldn’t. because, unbeknownst to you, that fondness you held so deeply for him was already blossoming into something more. something dangerous.

it was a strange day, indeed, for sunghoon.

more of a strange week, actually. firstly, his assistant keeper was nowhere to be found, so he was on the small island all alone; manning all of the work and upkeep of the lighthouse on his own. as he went on about his days, sunghoon constantly felt watched—he even swore he heard a woman’s laugh before, saw the apparition of her along the shore, but it was just him. maybe it was finally his time to go mad like so many other lighthouse keepers.

now a vicious storm appearing out of nowhere? after his logs over the week have only shown mostly clear skies? it was all very strange to him.

even stranger was what sunghoon saw in the storm as he scanned the waters for any possible boats or ships. a woman, illuminated by a beam of moonlight, fighting against the waves and crashing upon his shore like some holy being. the storm came so fast he barely had time to get from his bed and light his oil lantern to go out and try to assist her.

that where sunghoon was now, holding his lantern over your bare body as he worriedly looked over you for any injuries. you seemed completely unharmed, surrounded by shifting blue scales with pearls in your hair. with skin slightly tinted blue and with slightly webbed hands, you almost looked… human—but, more ethereal and beautiful than anything sunghoon has ever seen in his entire life. you were prettier than any gibson girl appearance the women of the village sported.

realizing that he was gazing upon a woman’s naked body who he didn’t know, sunghoon quickly sat his lantern down in the sand as he shrugged off his wet coat. he laid it over you before hooking his arms under your legs and back to carry you back to safety in his quarters, making sure to grab his lantern to light his way back through the dark.

the closer to his small house and the further away from the shore he got, the storm simmered until he was at his front door and the skies and sea were almost calm again. very strange, sunghoon thought.

sunghoon laid you down gently onto his couch and replaced his coat for one of the thick blankets strewn across the back of the couch. you were completely out cold, and probably would be for a while. sunghoon shook his head in wonder as he stared down at you, “what happened to you? how did you manage to get caught naked and alone in the middle of a storm?”

his questions would have to wait for later. sunghoon rushed back outside and to the lighthouse. he climbed up the narrow winding staircase to the top and ensured that the lamp was still burning. after adjusting the flame, everything was back in order and the mechanism was spinning efficiently.

sunghoon sighed as he exited the lighthouse. thankfully, he wouldn’t have to do much cleaning up after the sudden storm. after logging everything that happened, sunghoon ventured back down to the shore—back to where he found you.

in the sand, he picked up some of the blue scales that had surrounded you and inspected them. they were somewhat transparent and flexible. when sunghoon held them out to the light, they shifted from a dark blue to a deep teal color. it only left him with more questions, but he pocketed them to ask you about later.

a yawn was ripped from his mouth and he looked out at the moon. if his calculations were correct, he still had a couple of hours until he had to be up again for the day. heading back to the small house near the lighthouse, sunghoon decided to go back to sleep until either it was time for him to wake up, or you awoke. there was no point in staying awake if everything outside was calm with no signs of changing and you were asleep.

sunghoon quickly ran upstairs and changed his wet clothes for dryer ones, making sure to bring some down for you to wear when you woke up. he sunk down into the armchair next to the couch, running his hands through his damp hair. sunghoon glanced over to you, sleeping peacefully, with a sigh. he just hoped that nothing else strange occurred.

he got as comfortable as he could on the armchair and yawned once again. sunghoon closed his eyes and let himself drift off to sleep.

you awoke inside a simply adorned house that you didn’t recognize. memories rushed towards the forefront of your mind and you recalled the events you just went through. the sea witch, your new—and no longer painful—legs, the storm, and sunghoon’s worried face. you slowly sat up and the fabric across your body fell off your shoulders and pooled in your lap.

you turned towards the window and looked out at the sky. it was still rather dark outside, but you could tell that dawn was not too far away. the light atop of the lighthouse still flickered like a beacon in the sky and there were no remnants of whatever storm brought you here.

the surface, you were finally on it. a smile grew on your face and you turned your attention back to your new legs, flipping the fabric off of you completely to gaze upon them.

they were absolutely glorious. you giggled a little as you wiggled the tiny fingers at the end of them. they felt unusual, but you supposed you would eventually get used to the feeling. another thought popped into your head, loud and demanding—sunghoon.

he was asleep in the chair next to you, uncomfortably twisted in it. you tilted your head as you looked at him. finally, you were getting a close look at a landwalker—human. you stood on your new legs, shaking and using the couch to stabilize you. you took a shaky step towards him, and another until you were basically hovering over him.

how fascinating, humans. they didn’t have any gills like merfolk did, nor the tinged blue-ish skin or tail. and from what you could tell their ears didn’t have any attached fins on them either. you touched your own ears, astonished at how different they felt before holding out your hand. they were still slightly webbed, but not nearly like how they used to be. it was all so… new.

your skin was soft and warm rather than cold, wet and almost slick. sunghoon’s hair also didn't sprawl out around him like yours did when you were underwater. instead, it covered his eyes in a dark curtain, resting softly across his cheeks. 

you reached out your hand and brushed the hair away to see sunghoon’s closed eyes, fingers brushing lightly across his skin. he really was beautiful. your brows knitted together as the tips of your fingers dragged down his cheek. did all humans look like him?

sunghoon’s eyes cracked open and you gasped softly, pulling your hand away. you took a wobbly step back. you nearly fell onto the table if it hasn’t been for sunghoon quickly reaching out and grabbing your waist to steady you. you both looked at each other with wide eyes and complete silence. sunghoon’s eyes trailed your body and his eyes widened even more before he swiftly removed his hands from your waist and turned his head to the side, blinking rapidly.

“t-there’s clothes on the table for you…” sunghoon trailed, the sleep still in his voice, as he shifted in the armchair uncomfortably. his eyes darted to yours before looking away again.

you gave him a confused look before turning to the table. you held up the “clothes” he was talking about in front of you. you turned back to him with a puzzled look. “what… is it?” you asked. you stuck your arm through one of its various holes, confused on what you were to do with it.

sunghoon shifted in the seat more as he dragged his gaze to you. he took the pillow from behind him and pressed it down in his lap. “uh… i-it’s a shirt,” he stuttered, just as confused as you were. “you wear it?”

you lowered the shirt so you could look at him and sunghoon looked at the ceiling. “wear it?” you repeated. what is a “shirt” and how does one “wear it?” there was so much about a human’s life that you didn’t know. it made you excited to learn about it all.

sunghoon cleared his throat and his brows drew together more, like he didn’t understand how you didn’t understand what he was talking about. suddenly, realization dawned on his features and he slowly looked down from this ceiling so his eyes connected with yours. “yeah,” he said slowly. you could see the geysers blowing in his head the more he stared at you, his eyes shifting along your face and your hair. he glanced towards the door before settling on you. “have you seen them before?” he suddenly asked.

“from afar on humans, but never this close! we don’t wear things such as this. it’s soft,” you smiled. you then gasped, covering your mouth with your hand. you didn’t think it was wise to let him know that you were—or, use to be—a mermaid. your father’s words came to mind again, but, as you stared at sunghoon with wide eyes, it didn't look like he was dangerous.

after all, he did rescue you from the storm and gave you shelter. he is even giving you some of his clothes, even if you didn’t know what to do with them or how to wear them. maybe you could trust him with your secret before going off to the village in hopes of finding someone to fall in love with. treat it as a farewell before you leave him to ensure your fondness didn’t grow any further.

a smile grew on sunghoon’s face and as you stared at each other for another moment, you could see him put all the pieces together himself. “well, us humans usually wear a shirt like this,” he started, motioning down to the shirt that covered his chest. “and trousers to cover our lower half. you’re, uh, naked… right now.”

your brows raised in shock. naked? how were you naked? most of your pearls were still in your hair and your hair was relatively decent still. you were completely dressed.

sunghoon slowly stood. he grabbed the shirt from you and held it in between your bodies. “i’m not sure how things work where you’re from… but here, let me help you…” he lifted the shirt and pulled it over your head through one of the holes. “your arms go through the other two,” sunghoon murmured awkwardly.

he then very awkwardly guided you through putting on the pants and you quickly learned about balance and its importance.

“thank you,” you said sincerely as you smiled at him. sunghoon sheepishly smiled back, rubbing the back of his neck. “but, i must ask one last thing of you. the village… it’s dire that i get there as fast as possible.”

sunghoon’s smile dropped. you leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. then, you started to make your way to the door, a lot less wobbly. the kiss was risky, but you couldn’t help yourself. sunghoon raced towards you, his arms out. “wait!” he called out.

he held you in place by your shoulders to stop you from leaving. “you can’t leave—not without someone guiding you, and i can’t leave the lighthouse. the villagers… they’ll eat someone like you alive down there. it’s not safe.” you could tell sunghoon wasn’t joking by the serious expression on his face.

what were you supposed to do now? “someone like me?” you asked.

sunghoon gave you an almost incredulous look. “you arrived in a storm completely unharmed and alive. when i found you, you were surrounded by scales and you wear pearls in your hair…” he trailed off, like the answer was blatantly obvious. “the villagers don’t believe, but spending time here, alone, at this lighthouse will at the very least have you questioning.”

your shoulders sagged. at least you didn’t have to hide what you were from him anymore—not that you were doing a good job of it anyway. “b-but… i have to go to the village!” you exclaimed.

“listen, why don’t you stay here for a while? i’ll teach you everything you need to know—human to mermaid—and after, you can go on your merry way and live amongst us on your own!” sunghoon said.

“you don’t understand.” you slumped down on the couch, crossing your arms. “it’s not safe for you, and i don’t have that amount of time.”

sunghoon quirked a brow, chuckling, “what? are you gonna eat me or something?” you stayed silent. he sat down on the couch next to you, “if you were, you would’ve done so on the shore or while i was sleeping. i promise that no angry mob is gonna come rowing here after you, you don’t have to worry. and, i’ll teach you everything as fast as i can.”

you sighed defeatedly. you just hoped it was fast enough for you to still find someone else. it couldn’t be sunghoon who’s heart you ripped out. “okay,” you murmured.

sunghoon smiled brightly at you. “now, what’s your name, darling?”

“y/n,” you replied a bit hesitantly.

“i’m sunghoon, here at your service!” you laughed and he joined in with you. you almost wanted to tell him that you already knew, that you’ve been watching him, but you decided against it. it was best that he didn’t know. “sunghoon,” you repeated instead, like you haven’t already said it before, “that’s very pretty.”

“a compliment, coming from a pretty woman like you? well, it must be! thank you kindly, miss!” he smiled playfully and you rolled your eyes. there was a pang in your chest and you inhaled. thankfully it was covered by a loud growl, causing you to furrow your brows.

sunghoon’s face lit up in realization again. “ah, right. you must be hungry. let me fetch you something to eat.”

it’s been about a week since you landed in sunghoon’s care and time was ticking down. you tried to not think about how much time you had left, instead distracting yourself by helping sunghoon around the lighthouse, but it was near impossible. it didn’t help that since the two of you were alone on the island together, you both had no choice but to be in each other’s presence and get to know each other.

sunghoon has taught you a lot about humans throughout the week you’ve been here and in turn you’ve told him how things worked under the water. the two of you were fascinated by each other’s stories and that, in turn, only brought you both even closer.

the day was clear, and as sunghoon said, “it holds no signs of changing.”

“what do you say we row over to the village? get you some proper clothes?” sunghoon asked. “i don’t think you want to keep wearing mine.” he paused from the siding he was painting to look over to you.

you halted the paintbrush you were holding, looking at his clothes that you wore. “what? do they not look good on me?” you giggled.

sunghoon’s eyes widen, almost like something clicked in his head, but a smile grew on his face. he said nothing for a moment, just stared at you with a fond smile. “of course they look good on you,” he said.

you looked away, hiding your face, as you continued painting. “that would be nice,” you murmured, before speaking a little louder. “it would be nice to see the village.”

not soon after that, the two of you were climbing up the dock at the village together. you stuck near sunghoon’s side, suddenly overwhelmed by the busy life of the villagers. as you walked through the streets, you couldn’t help but notice all their stares—their dirty looks. you pressed more into sunghoon’s side and he wrapped his arm around your waist.

“a man’s clothes!” you heard the village women mutter amongst each other. “and her hair…”

you now knew what sunghoon meant when he said the village would eat you alive. you didn’t look how the village women looked and the difference was drastic and obvious. none of them had pearls intricately wrapped in strands of their hair or even had their hair down. their hair were all put up, with flowing skirts and modest blouses or fitted dresses that showed the curve of their hips that didn’t match the buttoned up untucked men’s shirt and trousers you wore. it was all so overwhelming.

by the time you reached the tailors, you were practically clutching on to sunghoon’s side. when you entered, every eye was on you. a human woman—who you assumed was the owner of the shop—rushed towards you. “oh, you poor thing! let me fix you up!” she cooed as she pulled you away from sunghoon’s grasp.

you looked back at him with wide, fearful eyes. “it’ll be okay,” he assured you, grabbing your hand. “i’ll be right here waiting for you.”

“this will take a while,” the woman said to him, before glancing at you. at least she didn’t look at you like the other women did. it was more with pity than disgust. sunghoon nodded, sitting in one of the chairs with his hat clutched in his hands. you didn’t turn away from him until your view of him was physically cut off by the curtain the woman pulled in front of your face and he didn’t look away either.

suddenly the woman had you out of sunghoon’s clothes and in long skirts and blouses. she had you try on various ones to gauge your size, along with pulling out what she called “measuring tape.”

once you had on an outfit she was satisfied with, her fingers hovered over the pearls in your hair, a look you couldn’t name in her eyes. “pearls are very beautiful? don’t you agree?” she asked as she turned to look at your face. you nodded, still a bit uncomfortable, as you cast your gaze downwards to the floor.

“all that hardship for beauty… for a simple creation,” the woman said. “i was just like you once, little guppy.” your gaze snapped to her’s in shock as her eyes stared at the pearls in your hair.

the woman continued, and you saw the sadness in her eyes. she nodded her head towards the curtain, “that man out there, he found you, didn’t he?” you opened your mouth to speak but no words came out, so you just nodded. “he’s already swimming down deep for you,” she said, “it gets easier, dear. when it’s all over, you come and find me, you hear?”

she said nothing else—nothing else about the fact that you both crawled from the deep in hopes of a new life. nothing about how she must’ve had to sacrifice the one she loved most in order to be standing in front of you right now. nothing about if it was worth it or not—and you so desperately needed to know.

instead, she carefully untangled the pearls from your windswept hair and worked them into the up-do she styled your hair in. as she worked around you, you noticed the single pearl in her own hair, and your heart broke in two.

once she was done and the curtain was opened, you all but ran back to where sunghoon still sat, just like he said he would. as you approached, he stood to his feet as he looked over you. his eyes were wide and his mouth hung open. the woman giggled, winking at you, before leaving the two of you alone.

“better?” you asked him, glancing down at the new clothes you wore.

“you were already beautiful,” sunghoon replied, a bit breathlessly and flustered. you smiled and felt as your face started to heat up rapidly. his ears were a flaming red that made you giggle a little. sunghoon cleared his throat, blinking, “b-but, it’s a good hu—good look on you. do you like it?”

you thought it over for a moment, “there’s aspects of it that i like, some that i don’t.” you liked how intricate it all looked, a lot of it reminded you of the seabed. along with the colors—it looked like you wore a coral reef with the most beautiful and shimmering fish in it. you weren’t sure about how fitted it all felt, but you were sure you would get used to it. it bummed you that your hair was put up, but at least you kept your pearls.

“well, you can wear it all however you like when we’re back on the island, sweetheart,” sunghoon said, stepping towards you. he took your hands in his and smiled at you.

when the two of you walked back through the village, you still felt eyes on you—more snickers and muttering. on the row home you were quiet, which sunghoon noticed. in the house, he saw how the sadness twisted your features.

he guided you towards the couch, his brows drawn together in worry. “i’m sorry,” he said softly, his voice low. sunghoon watched helplessly as the tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at him before sliding down your cheeks. you touched your fingers to the wetness, confused.

“what is this?” you asked him.

“tears,” sunghoon replied. “they happen when you feel an emotion deeply—like sadness.” more tears fell down your cheeks and you buried your face in his chest. sunghoon wrapped his arms around you and held you tightly.

after a few moments, you peeked your head out and looked at him with big, teary eyes. your eyes darted down to sunghoon’s lips before looking back up at him, your brows furrowing like you were in inner turmoil. slowly, you leaned up and softly pressed your lips to his.

sunghoon’s own eyebrows raised in slight shock. you pulled away the slightest bit, your lips still hovering near his like you were frozen. for a second, sunghoon was too. he then chases your lips, kissing you again.

you lips work in perfect harmony together as you kiss each other. like the past week has been building to this moment and it’s finally here and it’s perfect. his lips felt perfect on yours and yours on his. it was as if they were made for each other and you never wanted to spend another moment not kissing sunghoon.

his hand cupped your face and you sat up more, nearly in his lap, as the kiss deepened. you kissed each other like you were desperate. like the waves were crashing around you—and they were. the time you had left flashed in your mind and you ran your hands through his hair to distract yourself from the thoughts and instead focus on him—only sunghoon.

sunghoon’s hat fell to the side somewhere on the couch and his other hand slid down to rest on your waist. you kissed each other like you didn’t need air, or water, or anything. just each other. but you did, and you pulled away as heavy breathing overtook the both of you. not far, but enough so that you lips had the slightest distance from his. your thoughts came back full force, the sand in your hourglass falling and the sea witch’s cackling.

you shook your head a little, eyes still closed. “w-we can’t… this is too dangerous,” you trailed off in a soft and low voice, your eyes fluttering open and meeting his.

“i don’t understand…” sunghoon whispered. “what is so dangerous about it?” the pads of his thumbs wiped away freshly fallen tears. you shook your head again, pulling away from him fully and sitting properly back on the couch. sunghoon sat up straighter and placed his dropped hat in his lap.

you wrapped your arms around yourself. you looked out the window towards the calm sea and felt yourself break. it was already too late. you’ve reached the point of no return, and if you continued down the path you were going with sunghoon, there would be no going back.

“this won’t end well,” you told him, “and we’ll both end up getting hurt.”

you felt his fingers gently turn your face towards his. his face was inches from yours and he pulled you closer to him as you sniffled, wrapping his arms around you in comfort once again.

“and what if i like the pain—the danger?” sunghoon asked you quietly. “what if i want to get hurt by you?”

you shook your head once again and turned your head away from him. “you don’t,” you replied. he didn’t know what he was asking, and you knew someday soon you would have to tell him. he turned you towards him again, nodding. “i do,” sunghoon said.

his lips met yours again and you could feel the harsh winds whip around the two of you. the tides bent and broke and turned. you were both caught in a riptide and there was no escaping. your fates were already put in motion.

you were a fool to think you could stop it. you kissed sunghoon back with so much passion and wanting that you were sure it would knock the two of you right over. instead, he kept you stable, kept both of your heads above the water as you got pushed by the tall waves hand in hand. sunghoon kissed you back just as feverishly.

from the second you saw him through the fog you knew that your souls would be intertwined. you knew that you would fall in love with him—there was so stopping it, and you couldn’t no matter how hard you tried.

but then you thought of his bloody, beating heart in your cold hands. his lifeless eyes staring up at you. you had to fight against your rippling love for him, there was no other option. you didn’t want the sea witch to have his pure heart, she didn’t deserve it. and you felt like you didn’t deserve it either.

but the anchor has already been dropped into the water, and by the time you hurriedly pull it back up it would already be too late.

so you kept kissing him. you let everything you felt for him speak for itself through your moving lips on his and hoped that it was enough. you hoped that sunghoon understood it all—hoped that once he found out the truth that he would forgive you for keeping it from him. you hoped that his feelings for you would change.

the woman’s words from earlier seeped between your thoughts. “he’s already swimming down deep for you.” you didn’t think it could get easier. at the end of the time you had, when it was either you or sunghoon, you were choosing him. you just hoped that, in time, it would get easier for him.

it’s been a little over a week since you and sunghoon shared a kiss that shifted everything between the two of you. you tried hard to fight against your rapidly growing love for him, but it seemed like sunghoon fought against you every step of the way. whether it was fleeting but charged touches, longing looks, or the words he spoke, sunghoon was determined to let the feelings between the two of you grow. he’s even gotten more bolder with his displays of affection.

slowly, throughout the time since your kiss, you let yourself feel all the deep and confusing and complex emotions for him. let yourself pretend that you weren’t a doomed mermaid, but a regular human girl who was falling in love.

so, you shivered at his fleeting touch, wishing for more. you hid your heated face as the two of you exchanged longing glances. you melted at his sweet and honest words, as if it was a secret only the two of you shared. and for the first time in your life, you had everything you’ve ever wanted.

“you feeling better today, my pearl?” sunghoon asked you gently. a couple days ago you lightly burned your hand while lighting the oil lamp. it was a mere sting, really, but sunghoon has been fawning over you ever since. when he first called you “my pearl,” a few days after your kiss, it came as a shock.

“my pearl?” you asked him, slight shock fueling your voice. it was later in the day after the two of you finished the majority of what you had to do around the lighthouse. you and sunghoon sat across from each other at the table with a discarded shared meal pushed to the side in the center of you both. his hand intertwined with yours, thumb caressing the back of it.

“like the ones in your hair,” he said, using his free hand to motion to them. his smile—that seemed permanent these days—grew even more and it lit up his whole face. “unless you want to be called something different…”

sunghoon leaned across the small table towards you, tilting his head. his lips were inches from yours. in a low voice, he added, “like sweetheart, or darling, or baby…”

a permanent smile seemed planted on your lips too. your face felt like it was on fire, “i’ll like whatever you want to call me. the only thing that matters is that it comes from your lips.” sunghoon chuckled and his head fell in the other direction before placing a sweet kiss on your lips. “i’ll keep that in mind.”

“i told you, i’m okay,” you started as sunghoon looked over your wrapped hand. he glanced up at you with his brows raised before softly kissing the spot on your hand that you hurt. “there’s no need to worry.”

sunghoon then brought your hand to his chest. you felt the dull thump of his heartbeat and your assuring smile faltered slightly. you pulled your hand away. “we should finish cleaning the lighthouse,” you said, looking down to your feet. you glanced back up and sunghoon nodded. you saw the worry start to settle on his face but you moved before he could say anything else.

later that night, a storm had rolled in. it wasn’t as bad as the one that brought you here, but it still scared you nonetheless. it had woken you up and the thunder shook you to your core. it made you remember that just because you were pretending everything was okay and normal didn’t mean that they were. you had to tell sunghoon the truth at some point, and it had to be soon.

you shakily slid out your bed, clutching tightly to your frilly, high-collared white nightgown, and made cautious steps towards your door. with each strike of lightning, your bedroom illuminated and you saw your shadow dance across the floor. sometimes, it didn’t look like you had legs at all, but a tail still. the more steps you took, the more some of them felt wrong. like you were stepping on hot coals or urchins.

shaking your head as you slowly opened your door, you tried to calm yourself down. it was all in your head, that’s all. everything was okay.

you made your way down the short hall towards sunghoon’s room. carefully, you opened his door, the creaking getting drowned out by the rolling thunder. sunghoon was already awake, staring out his window from his bed at the storm, features drawn in complete focus. his eyes snapped to you and his slowly opening door before softening.

you felt silly, like a child coming to a parent after a bad dream. he must’ve seen how scared you were, because he motioned you over to him. you closed his door before walking over to his bed. you climbed up onto it and sat next to him, the two of you peering out his window.

the storm was even less bad than you thought it was. mainly just a little rain and a lot of thunder. the sea waves weren’t even as bad as you thought they initially seemed.

“the storm should be over soon,” sunghoon said, looking over to you, “the waves of thunder are getting further and further apart.” his spectacles caught the moonlight briefly before he took them off. “here, you should get some sleep.”

sunghoon shifted in the bed and pulled his covers over you, urging you to lay down. once you did, the two of you laid in silence and in the darkness—besides the flash of lightning here and there. you looked over at him in the dark, watching his silhouette. “sunghoon, i—”

your mouth clamped shut. how do you even bring something like ‘cutting someone’s heart out’ up? how do you do it without confirming to yourself and revealing to him that you love him deeply? how would he react to it all? you didn’t want your relationship to change, but this road had to be crossed. you had to let him know that your time was limited together—that you only had roughly another two weeks before you’d be seafoam.

how there is no salvation waiting for you.

you decided that it had to wait another day. one where it wasn’t storming and you could see each other’s faces. he deserved that.

“thank you…” you trailed instead, swallowing the lump in your throat. “for all that you’ve done for me thus far. i can’t tell you how much it all means to me.” you felt him shift and though you didn’t physically see his face, you felt the weight of his eyes on you.

in a quiet voice, you added, “how much you mean to me.”

the warmth of his body next to yours was suddenly too much for you. how different everything felt was, once again, overwhelming. it took everything in you not to cry.

“you mean a lot to me, too,” sunghoon said in the same quiet voice as you. “more than you know.”

his arms reached out towards you and his touch felt like sparks along your body. they wrapped around your body and pulled you closer to him, until your head was resting on his chest and you could hear his quickening heartbeat as his chest rose and fell. it made you want to cry even more.

“i’m glad that you came in, i actually can’t sleep that well during storms,” sunghoon said. you looked up at him and you could almost make out his face. “and your presence is always a welcome one. makes me feel calmer.”

you smiled to yourself, your face heating. “i think i can help with that…” you trailed.

sunghoon looked down and hummed in question. you continued, “there’s a lullaby my mother used to sing to me as a child when i couldn’t sleep.” you began to hum the start of it softly.

like magic, sunghoon felt his body begin to get heavy and his eyes struggled to stay open. he yawned and you stopped humming briefly to giggle before continuing. he pulled you even closer, to the point where you were practically almost on top of him. sunghoon just couldn’t get over the way you smelled like the sea waves. it reminded him so much of everything he loves.

in no time at all he was drifting into a peaceful sleep, feeling like the calm ripples of waves were all around him. and next to him was you—the beautiful maiden who had come from the waves, capturing his heart and singing your beautiful lullabies.

sunghoon was past smitten, was past falling, he was in deep. deeper than he’s ever been before and the more time he spent with you, the farther down he went. sunghoon was in love with you, he just needed some way to put his emotions into words and tell you. there was no doubt in his mind about you not feeling the same.

the weather had grown colder than usual, especially during the night. when you and sunghoon weren’t working around the lighthouse, you were both in the house by the fire, talking about nothing and everything. you had just come back inside from relighting the oil lamp at the top of the lighthouse. “it’s really cold out there!” you exclaimed with a laugh as you walked towards where sunghoon sat on the armchair.

he has just come from lighting the fireplace in his bedroom, where you’ve been sleeping ever since that night a week ago when you came in during a storm. sunghoon extended his hand towards you and you intertwined your fingers with his. he quickly pulled you to him and you fell into his lap with a squeal while he laughed. “let me warm you up then, my love,” sunghoon chuckled, pressing warm kisses to your cold cheeks.

the fire in the downstairs hearth was already merely warm embers and it was nearly time for bed. sunghoon pressed a lasting kiss to your lips, both of your mouths moving in sync before you had to break away for air. you stared into his brown eyes with wide eyes, lips just a breath away from each other. sunghoon’s hand was cupping your cheek and for a moment, it was just the two of you in the whole world.

you inhaled sharply before kissing him again. it was full of that same passion and want from the first kiss the two of you shared. in the midst of it, you twisted in his lap, hiking up your nightgown and straddling him as your lips worked against each other.

it felt like the jar you kept all you love for him began to crack until it finally exploded, letting all of the love flow freely. it was too much to contain—too powerful to control. there was no stopping it and it all only grew more and more. it felt as if there was fire in the pit of your belly, making your skin hot and your head clouded.

you pulled away from sunghoon’s lips just enough to speak. “take me,” you whispered lowly. you saw the way his eyes widened and his grasp on your hips tightened. “please,” you begged before placing your lips back on his with a hot kiss.

sunghoon sat the two of you up so you were no longer leaning back on the armchair. it seemed like it took everything in him to rip his lips away from yours. he stood and you intertwined your hand with his and led him up the stairs.

when the two of you made it to his room you let go of his hand as he stoked the fire. you pulled off your white nightgown and let it fall to the floor below. you then crawled onto his bed as you waited, completely naked. the warmth of the flames made your already hot skin feel like it was on fire.

sunghoon froze when he saw you on the bed, his eyes wide and his mouth slightly agape. he watched as the flickering light bathed you in warm hues and made your hair glitter with all of the pearls strung in it. you smiled at him shyly, you gaze casting down for a moment before looking back up at him. you were so beautiful that it truly took sunghoon’s breath away.

he wasted no time, stripping off his own clothes before climbing onto his bed and on top of you, his lips latching with yours in a heated kiss.

you moaned against his lips when his hand slid in between the two of you and down to where you needed him the most. with his thumb, he rubbed at the sensitive bud and made your back arch off of the bedsheets. you whimpered into his mouth, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer to you.

sunghoon’s thumb then traveled down farther, spreading your arousal between your folds and having you whining. his warm hands sent electricity through your body and you didn’t know how much more you’d be able to take if he didn’t do something. you pulled away from his lips, chest rising and falling heavily as your brows knitted together. “i need you,” you begged in a low voice.

sunghoon then slipped a finger inside of you, causing you to gasp and hold onto him tighter. he watched as your face twisted into pleasure and he slowly began to pump it in and out of you, savoring the way your body reacted to him and his touch. once you were clawing at his back, he slipped in another finger, curling them at just the right angle to have you melt underneath him.

you’ve never felt pleasure like this before and it made you angry that you waited so long with sunghoon. the way he repeatedly pushed his slender fingers inside you, coating them with your wetness, made every withering scale and the pain worth it. as long as you got to be with him, everything was worth it.

sunghoon pressed open mouthed kisses down your neck and to your breasts. his tongue circled your nipple before he pulled away. you were writhing beneath him, soft moans falling from your lips at the way his fingers moved. they only got louder when he would curl them at just the right moment and pressed up against your sweet spot.

he watched with a satisfied smile as you tried to press your legs together, a whimpering mess. he pushed one of your legs away with his free hand, his fingers splaying across your thigh and keeping it up towards your chest. soon, he felt your walls grip his fingers tightly before you were covering them in a pretty white. but, sunghoon wasn’t finished with you just yet. he was determined to make this the best night of your life.

helping you ride out your high, he brought his lips back down to yours as he slowly pumped his fingers inside you. your chest rose and fell as you tried to fill your lungs up with oxygen, but you still turned the slow kiss into a deeper one.

“are you ready, baby?” sunghoon asked you in a soft voice, breaking away from your lips. you nodded eagerly, you were more than ready.

he moved so he sat back on his knees, pushing your legs apart as he pulled his wet fingers out of you. you leaned up on your elbows to watch him. more arousal pooled in your stomach as you looked over him and the way the firelight bounced off of him. he looked heavenly, completely angelic. and tonight he was all yours—not the land’s, not the sea’s, yours. and you were his.

slowly, sunghoon slid into you. you gasped loudly at the feeling of being so full, so completely enraptured by him. once he was fully inside you, he leaned down to press a soft kiss to your lips. your lips moved in sync with his and you wrapped your legs around his hips to bring him closer to you.

sunghoon started to rut his hips forward, repeatedly pushing himself inside of you. he moaned at how good you felt around him, at how beautiful you looked underneath him with your pretty moans and your face full of pleasure. it was everything he wanted and more. he never wanted this night to end.

the two of you tried to pull each other impossibly closer. you were both desperate for each other’s touch and no matter how close you were, it wasn’t close enough.

you pulled away from sunghoon’s lips after fighting the urge to breathe for too long and buried your face in his neck. he pressed chaste kisses to your shoulder as your bodies moved in motion. it was like two waves colliding over and over again.

inside of you, you felt the rope of pleasure start to fray and snap. you whimpered, breathing heavily as you looked up sunghoon and the thin sheen of sweat that made him glow even more. “please,” you begged him, whining as your back arched off the bed again and your hips lifted towards his. “please, please, please.”

your head felt too clouded and it took all of your effort to even say that simple word. you were so close, so-so close. your body never felt like this before, tingly all over and on fire. it was such a stark contrast to how it felt when you were a mermaid. did humans always feel like this, or was this purely from sunghoon’s actions?

you weakly sat up, wrapping your arms around sunghoon’s neck for leverage. a desperate need overtook your senses as you rocked your hips against him in time with the way he pushed into you. the both of you moaned as the new sudden feeling.

“you feel so good,” sunghoon murmured. “so perfect.”

he sloppily smashed his lips against yours, too eager to kiss you properly with how good you were making each other feel. it felt like your bodies were made for each other—like the two of you were made for each other.

soon, the rope completely snapped and you moaned loudly against his lips, body shaking as your movement halted. more whines and moans fell from your parted lips as sunghoon kept moving. you held him tightly, scared that if you were to let go you would fall apart completely.

it wasn’t long after that you felt warmness spill inside you. sunghoon stilled, his head falling into the crook of your neck and his breathing coming out haggard. soft moans emitted from him and for a moment the two of you caught your breaths in silence.

once you felt like you weren’t in the clouds, a shy giggle escaped you. sunghoon looked up from your neck, an amused smile on his face. “what?” he asked. you shook your head as you giggled more, kissing him briefly. you intertwined your hands with his.

“that was heavenly,” you smiled, your face completely hot. sunghoon brought his hand up to cradle your cheek, his thumb caressing the warm skin, before kissing you again with a grin. “is it always like that?” you wondered.

he laughed, shaking his head a little. “not in my experience—no. nothing close to that,” he replied. “you’re just special.”

a sheepish smile tugged at your face and you looked away from his gaze. sunghoon pressed a kiss to your jaw and you giggled more as he pressed another to your neck. “come on,” he murmured against your skin, “let’s get you cleaned up, darling.”

after the two of you were cleaned up, you laid together on his bed beneath the covers, the dwindling firelight illuminating the two of you. your back was to sunghoon’s chest and he trailed the tips of his fingers along your shoulder and arm, sometimes softly kissing it.

you turned to face him and he fondly smiled down at you, causing his expression to mirror on your own face. he leaned down to kiss you. “my pearl,” sunghoon whispered affectionately before kissing you again.

the next day, the air around you and sunghoon was charged. no longer were the touches fleeting and the two of you shared longing glances. everything was practically out in the open now, one of you just had to bridge the gap completely.

a deep rooted sensation bubbled inside you and you could only describe it as fear. you had to tell sunghoon about the sea witch’s deal, and you had to do it today. you were running out of time—with only a week left—and it couldn’t be put off any longer.

it made the fear in the pit of your stomach worse when you noticed how sunghoon looked at you—how he always looked at you. it was full of love and hope and yearning. you could almost see the words forming at the tip of his tongue without him needing to say anything.

it made you feel guilty that you waited until the last moment to say anything.

sunghoon couldn’t keep his eyes off of you for the whole day. he kept falling behind in his duties because he was too busy focused on you. too focused on the way your dress swayed as you moved, or the way the pearls in your hair glittered in the sunlight, completely free from the up-do that the women of the village wore. or the way you smiled at him every time you caught him staring, that smile that he would do anything and everything for.

the fire lighting the lighthouse was nothing compared to the fire that burned in his heart for you, so blinding that it was the only thing he could make out. you set him alight, made his skin hot and his cheeks rosy. sunghoon felt like he didn’t even need his thicker, wool clothes with you around him. you made his heart race and race until he was sure it would go jumping out of his chest and into your gentle hands.

how could he not love you? from the moment he saw you it felt like something clicked into place within himself. like you were the final piece he’s been waiting for and he was now complete. you completed him.

if you were the lighthouse, sunghoon was the boats and ships drawn to your light with the excitement of land. for the rest of his days, his soul would desperately call out to yours until you came home to him. he was the moth and you were the flame—and he would gladly get burned by your heat if that meant he could be with you, however brief.

you were springtime with the promise of pretty, blooming flowers. the sunlight bouncing off the ripples of the sea and the cool air that flowed up from it. you were the shadows that the leaves cast on the ground and the calming sound of the remnants of waves hitting the rocks. sunghoon could shout from the top of the lighthouse everything he adored about you, but by the time he would be anywhere close to finishing you both would be old and grey, skin wrinkled from all the times you made him laugh and smile.

today was the day, he had to tell you how he felt. he couldn’t keep it locked inside him any longer.

after the two of you finished everything for the day, sunghoon pulled you inside and away from the chilling winds. he sat you on the couch and nervously twiddled his thumbs as he forced the words from his mouth, and once he started he found it even harder to stop.

“i love you,” sunghoon finally breathed. “i love you so much that it’s too much to contain. it spills out of me like uncontrollable rivers. i could tell you over and over and it still wouldn’t be enough—i love you, i love you, i love you!”

he grasped your hands in his, desperately holding onto them as he stared into your eyes with furrowed brows. nothing would be able to capture sunghoon’s love for you and it frustrated him to no end, yet, it didn’t stop him from trying. “i love you like the water loves the land. like the sun loves the moon and all of the stars in the sky,” he finally concluded.

you stared at him with a melancholic look and for a moment sunghoon thought that he might’ve been mistaken. that he read into you a little too much. but, all his worries were eased when you flung yourself into his arms and into his lap, making him fall back against the couch from the edge. you kissed him so passionately that it took his breath away again, but he was content with the burning in his lungs.

“i love you,” you told him, like you had discovered the secrets to the world and it all lied within him. “you paint all of my skies the most saturated colors of blue like i’ve never seen before. you’re the air in my lungs and the beating of my heart—oh, i love you so much!”

all sunghoon could do was laugh joyously as he held you close to him, planting a million and one kisses onto your face as you, too, laughed. he didn’t think he’d ever be this happy in his life, and it was all because of you. no longer were his days lonely and grey; they were filled with the most magnificent colors and your presence.

you didn’t realize the tears that began to fall down your face, or how the overwhelming fear in your stomach came to the surface until you got a good look at sunghoon’s happy face. you inhaled sharply before it was all too much and you broke down completely. at first, sunghoon thought they were happy tears until he saw the way you violently shook and his smile faltered.

he pulled you to his chest as his hand rubbed comforting circles against your back. “you’re crying, my pearl? why are you sad?” he asked you he gently, pulling you away from him so he could see your face.

you shook your head, sniffling and wiping the tears from your cheeks. “i’m happy! i’m so happy for the first time in my life and it’s because of you,” you started. “only, i’m still that naive girl i was when i first washed up on your shore, because this can’t last…”

sunghoon’s brows drew together further. “what do you mean, my love?”

and so you told him everything. about how when you were a mermaid you dreamed of having legs like the landwalkers did, dreamed of walking on land and leading a human life. you told him how you would watch the villagers and then how the lighthouse caught your attention and you saw him from the water for the very first time and knew that he would always have your heart. you told him of the childhood story your father use to tell you of the mermaid who wished for legs and the sea witch who granted it.

finally, you told him about how you sought out said sea witch and found her, making a wish for legs of your very own. about the precedent of the deal and how it required you to cut out the beating heart of the human who you loved the most—him. then, you told him how you could never go through with it, how you’d rather throw yourself to the sea and become seafoam before ever thinking of hurting him.

sunghoon sat quietly with a slight look of horror as you spoke, intently listening to every word that fell from your mouth. “don’t you see why i told you it was dangerous for us to get closer? why it’s not safe?” you cried. “and it’s all my fault… i should’ve insisted that you take me to the village instead of staying. now we only have a week left before i leave you forever.”

another moment passed as you cried and cried and sunghoon held you as tightly as he could, fearful that you’d crumble completely in his arms. he struggled to wrap his mind around the whole thing—around the fact that your time together was limited. 

sunghoon couldn’t bear living without you, that was the only stable thought in his mind.

he took your face in his hands and gently wiped away your tears with the pads of his thumbs. it broke his heart to see you so sad, so defeated. all sunghoon wanted to see was your beautiful smile again.

“why did you think i’d let you sacrifice yourself for me?” he asked. as if he’d let you do such a thing. he would rather carve out his heart himself and throw it to the sea if it meant you could keep the life you dreamed of.

you threw his words back at him, “why did you think i’d let you sacrifice yourself for me? it’s not a life if you aren’t in it.”

“because my heart already beats for you.” you shook your head at his words but sunghoon just nodded. “it does. and i want you to have everything you’ve ever wanted, even if it’s at the cost of my own life.”

“no…” you shook your head as more tears fell from your watery eyes. “no,” you stated more firmly. “this life means nothing to me without you. i’m not giving her your heart and neither are you. it’ll be hard when i’m gone, but it will get easier with time. we just have to make the most of the week we have left.”

sunghoon just tilted his head at you and shook his head as tears of his own fell from his eyes. it wouldn’t get easier, and no matter how close he held you, it wouldn’t be close enough.

in the days leading towards the end of the month you were given, you and sunghoon spent every waking moment together. duties were cast aside to only its bare bones and deemed unimportant. you spent time leaving little pieces of yourself on the tiny island. you had taken some of the pearls from your hair and sewn them onto the hat that sunghoon always wore; he even let you weave some of them into the strands of his hair.

a storm had begun to brew along the horizon of the sea that left everything dark and cloudy. you knew that the storm was for you—for him, and it saddened you deeply. it also filled you with a grim determination. the sea witch wouldn’t have sunghoon’s heart. you would die making sure that was true.

it felt as if all hope was lost. like a blanket of complete darkness covered the two of you and you walked lost through it. the majority of the week was spent as if you both were mourning each other, and you were. sunghoon just couldn’t believe that this would be the last time he would ever see you again—he refused to believe it.

he ensured that he had as much physical attachments of you two together as possible, even going so far to hire a photographer and have your pictures taken. at night, he could hear you weeping and he couldn’t do anything to comfort you except hold you. it wasn’t enough for either of you. how could the two of you possibly pretend to be happy when you both knew that the end was near? that the two of you were doomed from the very start?

it was like ice replaced all the warmth inside him and froze him down to the marrow in his bones. the only spark inside him was his undying love for you.

it felt strange to feel such deep and heartbreaking, mournful sorrow over someone who was still living. like his one true love was already taken from him.

how would sunghoon live on once you were gone? everywhere he goes he would search for you, whether that be beneath the empty covers of his bed or between the flickering light of the lighthouse. would he see someone at the village and think that it was you, only for them to turn and he’d see that it wasn’t? would he see the glittering sunlight along the water and think that it was the pearls in your hair—that you’ve returned home to him? he couldn’t bear it all.

but, he couldn’t do anything to stop it. the final day was here and the storm that was previously brewing in the horizon raged on, demanding to be felt—demanding the heart it came for. unease sunk deep into sunghoon, and as you both watched the storm and harsh winds from the window he held you close.

“please,” sunghoon begged, voice hoarse, barely above a whisper and half-muffled from his face buried in your hair, “please, don’t do this. we can figure out another way, just… just don’t go.”

sunghoon had been crying all night and the storm didn’t help one bit. even your lullaby only barely managed to make him fall asleep. he didn’t want to miss a single precious second with you by sleeping. he had the rest of his life without you to sleep.

“it’s too late, my love,” you said somberly. you shifted to face him, tears welling in your eyes. “there’s no other option. i have to do this. it’s the only way… you’re the land and i’m the sea—we only touch for a brief moment.”

you pressed your lips to sunghoon’s firmly, letting all your passion and love for him seep through it. no matter how much your lungs ached and your head pounded, you both didn’t break away. if it was going to be your last kiss, it would be one you’ll both remember forever.

only when you felt like you were about to pass out did you gently pull away from him. a strike of lightning followed by a vicious roar of thunder sounded. “it is time,” you whispered.

you stood from the couch, forcing yourself to break away from sunghoon and the life you cherished so deeply. you bent down to give him one last hug. “i love you, forever,” you said, “and i’ll miss you for even longer.”

“i love you,” sunghoon said, his voice breaking into a cry as tears slid down his face. “i miss you.” with bated breath, sunghoon looked up at you through his tears, “i’m sorry.”

you shook your head at sunghoon as you stood to your full height, your hand falling from his face and you wiped away his tears. you inhaled sharply and you got one last look at him, one last look at him to burn into your mind before you turned to seafoam.

you took in every inch of him, down to the hat with your pearls sewn onto it discarded at his feet and the pearls woven into his dark hair as he ran his hands through it. sunghoon was so drastically different from when you first met him, yet, completely the same all at once. it broke your heart into a million pieces to see him this way and have it be all because of you.

inhaling deeply, you turned your back before he could convince you to stay. your hand lingered near the door and you turned back to him one last time. “goodbye, my love, my sunghoon.”

with your last goodbye, you opened the door and faced the storm.

there was no use in delaying the inevitable. you stomped towards the water, stripping off your clothes and your last shred of humanity. anger permeated you, hot like the flame of the flickering lighthouse.

it was so unfair. it was so unfair that you couldn’t have the one thing you’ve ever wished for. but you guessed that it was no easy wish going against nature. a thing belonging to the sea cannot step onto the land without consequences—and here you were, facing them. walking headfirst back to the sea—to your own death, like one would if they had pockets full of stones.

you barely got to your knees in the water before red-hot pain spread throughout your legs, the same pain that you felt when they formed from your tail. soon after you were falling to the water, your deep blue, color shifting tail emerging from behind you. you dived underwater, thankful for once that mermaids couldn’t cry.

you began to swim further out into the sea, watching as more and more of your body transformed back to its original state. the entire time you thought of the sea witch, of how you hated her and her cruelness. she did this to you—she let you dream of hope only to turn the lights back out. you never should’ve made that bargain.

above you, you saw the water ripple like something was dropped in. you wouldn’t have thought anything of it if not for the feeling against your tail. you stopped swimming and twisted to look behind you.

shock filled you and your eyes widened. sunghoon swam towards you, clothes flowing in the water as he got closer.

no. what was he doing here? doesn’t he know how dangerous it is for him to be in the sea at this moment? you wanted to lecture him, scream at him—but, all that filled you was the love you have for him.

sunghoon reached out his hands toward your face and gently grabbed your cheeks. he swam forward and placed his lips onto yours. you should’ve known that he wouldn’t let you go alone, that he would be there with you until the very end—even if you told him over and over that it would only make the pain worse.

you pulled away and let yourself smile at him one last time—for the first time as what you truly were. that smile quickly faltered when you saw all the red start to seep out from around the two of you, feeling the knife against your chest.

looking down, you gasped and bubbles of air floated towards the surface. lodged in sunghoon’s chest was a knife with blood rapidly coming from it. you shook your head at him, brows knitting together in anguish, and sunghoon just nodded.

you refused to let him do this—to let him die. to let him die for you. it wasn’t supposed to be like this. it was supposed to be you, not him. you were supposed to be the sacrifice.

you linked your arms under his and swam as fast as you could to the shore, bringing sunghoon towards the surface and fighting against the harsh waves. every second felt like a grain of sand in an hourglass, and you didn’t have much sand left. you now know what he meant when he said “i’m sorry.”

sunghoon didn’t have much time, you knew that from the way he began to cough violently. you dragged him as far up on the shore and as far away from the water as you possibly could with the hindrance of your tail. the sea witch wouldn’t have him, you will die making sure of it.

you started screaming for help until your voice was hoarse, but it was no use against the whipping winds of the storm. nobody would hear you on this tiny island away from the village anyway. “why?” you asked him, tears falling from your face, “why would you do this? the sea doesn’t deserve a heart like yours.”

sunghoon grabbed your hands and brought them to the hilt of the blade in his chest. “take it… it’s yours. it will always be yours,” he said hoarsely. blood spilled past his lips and you cried harder. “go, be free. walk on land and live the life you’ve always wanted. be human.”

he violently coughed more and more blood coated his lips.

“it’s not a life i want if it isn’t with you,” you cried, removing your hands from the hilt and pressing them to his wound. your hands were stained but the blood wouldn’t stop.

sunghoon took your hands in his, “it’s not a world i want to live in if you’re not by my side, my pearl.”

with the last of his strength, sunghoon wrapped his hands around the hilt and harshly pulled the blade from his chest. you gasped as more blood gushed from the wound and stained his shirt red. “no, no, no!” you sobbed louder with each word.

“kiss.. me… one last time?” sunghoon heaved in question. his eyes started to close but he fought to keep them open—he wouldn’t waste any more precious seconds.

you couldn’t believe that it was all ending like this—that it all could come to this. you stupid, half-witted, naive little guppy. how dare you dream of a life you could never have?

you sniffled and nodded. you didn’t care that his blood would be on your lips, you bent down to press yours to his anyway. as they moved in sync you could feel the life draining from him and you pulled away, letting him get as much oxygen as he possibly can. it wasn’t supposed to be this way.

sunghoon smiled up at you and it was the last glimmer of light in the darkness as the rain poured down around the two of you. he cupped your face gently, his hand trembling. “my pearl…” he whispered, “my y/n… i love you so much.”

with those last words, sunghoon’s eyes closed and his hand fell from your face and into the wet sand below.

you looked down at him with wide, watery eyes. a loud sob ripped through you and you cried until your chest felt like exploding and you could barely see from the burning tears. you raised a shaky hand and placed it softly on sunghoon’s chest where his heart resided. it no longer beat. he was gone, truly… gone.

you took the knife laying limply in his other hand and threw it as far away from the two of you as you could. you then laid your head on his chest like you did all those nights ago in the bed you shared, only, it wasn’t the same.

sunghoon was gone. his warm body was now cold and his beating heart had stilled. all that was left was you—and soon, even you would cease to exist.

you felt tingling in your tail, little stabbing pains that would hurt if you didn’t feel so numb right now. you knew that you were withering away—turning into seafoam like the sea witch promised with only your heart to leave behind so she could collect it. you welcomed it, for you had nothing left.

let her take your heart, so long as she doesn’t touch his.

softly, you began to hum the lullaby your mother used to sing to you as a child. you hoped that it would aid sunghoon on his journey beyond, that the storm would no longer make him anxious and instead he felt calm. that it would gently lull him to where he needed to be.

more tears slid down your wet cheeks from the lack of sound in chest. how it didn’t rise and fall with his breathing. but, you continued humming.

the fin of your tail started to turn first. seafoam overtook it and fell away into the sand in a pool of foamy white. you closed your eyes as it spread further and further up your body. you hummed until you physically couldn’t anymore—until your entire body was seafoam and so were your lips. until you were nothing but a beating heart against sunghoon’s still chest.

the storm began to melt away, the dark clouds very slowly rolling back towards the magic that casted them and the rain traveling upwards towards them. it is unknown how long the remnants of your bodies laid in the wet sand, curled into each other.

there was no telling where sunghoon ended and you began.

deep down below at the sea floor there is a rumbling. a loud, angry scream follows and it is said it can be heard for miles. the sea witch tries with all her might, but her waters are just too far away from where the two lovers lie. she is unable to take their hearts, for they are their own—they belong to each other and no one else. and soon after, your heart turns to seafoam too. the two of you, at once, were home with each other.

while the law searches the tiny island to figure out what came of the lighthouse keeper, they find a picture of a woman with pearls in her hair—similar to the pearls found in the lighthouse keeper’s hair—and a shifting blue scale. the picture and scale was hidden in a pocket close to his chest and free from any blood. the woman was never found and the villagers have no recollection of her—despite the various photographs around the lighthouse keeper’s small home.

through the breaking light of the dawn, it is said you can see two souls turn to one.

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[amaranthinespirit]

hi hi hi hello i just had a thought that i think you would like. a thunderstorm making simon on edge bc of the noise so reader tells him to use their thighs as ear muffs, turns into a slow and comforting pussy eating session. this is all, thank you, here’s a flower —>🌷

during a particularly bad thunderstorm which causes boyfriend!simon riley to be on edge, what better way to calm him than between your thighs?

(I infact love this request anon <3)

his chest tense and taut against your back, even the slightest noise causing him to pull you slightly closer each time. when you'd ask him if he was okay, he'd only give a rough grunt in response, the sound rumbling in his chest and vibrating against your back.

you decided you had finally had enough of him brushing off the fact that he was very clearly feeling on edge, crossing your arms against your chest as you looked back up at him with a firm expression.

his brows raised in surprise, feeling his muscles relax the slightest amount as he listened to your soft voice, though firm in tone as you escaped his tight grasp, relaxing against the couch cushions with your legs spread, an invitation to lay between your thighs.

the couch was tiny, and he took up quite a bit of that space, so when you leaned back, your legs draped over his lap. a rough, warm hand wrapped loosely around your ankle, his thumb gently smoothing over the skin as he watched you closely, the way you were waiting.

i mean, who would he be if deny the chance to lay between your thighs? crazy, he thought, absolutely insane to deny your sweet offer.

carefully, he sat up onto his knees, the couch creaking under his shifting weight, maneuvering your legs on either side of his thighs, hands still on your ankles.

he seemed hesitant, but eventually, he slowly lowered himself into the space between your thighs, his calloused hands let go of your ankles and gently came up to your outer leg to envelop him.

he couldn't hear the small noise that escaped through your lips as his crooked nose pressed against your clothed cunt, feeling the warm exhale of his breath through the fabric as you tried to relax.

he was so close, it was nearly unbearable, and it didn't help that he was just one layer of cloth away from your already soaked pussy. surely he could feel the material dampen under his face, that only pressed more firmly against your drooling heat.

it didn't take him long to recognize what he was doing to you, the way your plush thighs kept involuntarily squeezing tighter around his head, or the material of your panties quickly becoming more soaked the further he pinned against you.

he smirked, a slight chuckle slipping from his lips before he pressed his tongue flat against your clothed pussy. his eyes fluttered shut for a second, reveling in the faint taste of you through the cloth.

he retracted his tongue, chuckling once again as he mumbled into your pussy, "s'needy," his tone slightly condescending and words muffled as two thick fingers pulled aside your panties.

you whined slightly at the bitter contact of cool air before it was quickly replaced by the warmth of his lips, tongue swirling through your puffy folds as he took his time in devouring you.

his hands coming to the junction of your hips and thighs, forcing you further onto his face, crooked nose pressed against your little clit. one hand holding your hip slid down across your stomach, his forearm holding you still as he pinched and teased your clit, rolling the pearl gently between his calloused fingers.

his tongue slowly lapped at your leaking slit, grunting and groaning at the taste of you, wet, lewd sounds of him slurping up your slick, you desperately try to pull him closer, which he does allow, but your attempts to get him to speed up?

nice try lovie, let him take his time. he's still got the rest of the storm to lay between your thighs, let him savor it, you'll be here a while