#{nice to finally get the proper look at it it's beautiful}

[necr0-mantix]

Rathma's Staff by Chris Jennings - {Artstation Link}

[joelsgreys]

weakness

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: An afternoon at Bill and Frank’s place takes one hell of an unexpected turn for you and Joel when hidden feelings start coming to the surface.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. BOSTON QZ ERA JOEL. AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is in his early 50’s). mentions of reader having longer hair/her hair gets brushed, reader wears a dress, no specific mention of reader’s size, but there is a brief mention of the dress fitting loose on her, Frank is sweet and makes her feel pretty, Bill is a grump, Joel is kind of soft, hidden feelings. dashes of angst, fluff, and an abundance of Frank being an absolute angel.

MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY. NO MENTION OF RACE OR BODY TYPE.

word count: 5.7k

“Can you stop fidgeting for just one second, please?” Frank scolds you lightly, bringing down the palm of his hand onto your shoulder in a small, quick slap in an attempt to get you to stop squirming. He then moves his hands back up to your hair, which is out of its usual braid and towel dried after a much, much needed wash. The sickeningly sweet scent of the floral shampoo you’d used in the shower earlier that afternoon lingers deliciously in the air around you, a refreshing and welcome change from what your hair normally smells like—grime and smoke from hours of work detail in the Boston QZ. After coming out all of the stubborn tangles that he can find, Frank then picks up a boar hairbrush and he carefully begins to run it through your locks. He starts from the roots of your hair and brings the natural bristles down, all the way through to your ends. He chuckles and says, “You know, I would be done a hell of a lot quicker if you would just sit still.”

You sigh softly, but impatiently, allowing yourself one final, uncomfortable little shuffle in the white wicker chair he has you perched on before finally giving into his request. “Alright, alright, I’m sorry,” you mumble You bring your knees up against your chest and exhale another small sigh. You can’t see his face, but you can picture the smug, satisfied smile on Franke’s face as he continues brushing your hair. “So, tell me again why we’re even doing this?” you question him just a minute later, as if he hasn’t already explained it to you about a hundred times—he wants to do something special for you. “It kind of seems like a complete waste of time, don’t you think so?”

“We’re doing this because you deserve to get dolled up for once in your adult life,” Frank states in a matter of fact tone. The world had ended when you’d been about seven years old, and he’d imagined that since then, you’d never done a single damn thing for your appearance—besides the occasional at home haircut you would give yourself every few months with an old pair of rusted shears. He’d have been absolutely right about that. “And besides, it’s something of a special occasion today,” he adds. “It’s the first day of spring. The weather outside is stunning, our flowers are finally in full bloom, and we have a nice outdoor lunch planned to celebrate the new season.”

You can’t help the way the corners of your mount turn upwards into a small smile. One might think it was all rather silly, given it was the end of the world and all, but you have to admit, you admire the way Frank manages to find genuine happiness and joy in the little things, like warm sunshine on the first day of spring. Or showing a friend what a proper hairbrush looks like. He has such a beautiful soul, something that very, very few people in this new world possess. 

“Your hair is so healthy,” Frank observes a few minutes later, setting the hairbrush aside. Taking two handfuls of your hair from the front, he twists them gently and brings them around to the back of your head. He then secures them with a clear, elastic band and runs his fingers through your soft locks, maneuvering your hair until it cascades perfectly around your shoulders. Frank walks around your chair to face you, fussing until he makes sure that every stand is neatly in place. He smiles. “You should wear your hair down more often, you know. It really suits you.”

“Long, loose hair and work detail are a recipe for disaster,” you laugh, shaking your head at him. “Most of the work sites in the zone require anyone who has longer hair to keep it tied back, anyway.” You push your legs out away from your chest and plant your feet firmly on the floor. “Listen, Frank. I really do appreciate what you’re trying to do for me. I really do,” you swear. “It’s incredibly sweet, but there’s really no point. In just a few hours, Joel and I are going to have to head back into Boston where my hair goes back into its braid and I have to change back into my normal clothes.”

“Exactly. So how about you just zip it and enjoy this while it lasts?” he suggests with a tiny, cheeky grin.

“But Frank—”

“Honey, this is a fight you simply aren’t going to win, so hush. Now, come with me.” He takes your hand, pulling you out of the chair and up to your feet. “Close your eyes,” he instructs, and with a reluctant sigh, you do as you’re told. Frank leads you over towards the full length mirror in the far corner of his and Bill’s bedroom. “Okay. One, two, three—open your eyes.”

Your eyes flutter open and your mouth parts slightly in surprise. 

“What the fuck,” you murmur underneath your breath, taken aback by the reflection in the mirror. The young woman staring back at you, she looks absolutely nothing like you. The hair, the hint of blush on your cheekbones—the color he’d found was one one that flatters the tone of your skin—and the thin coat of decades old mascara that he’d applied to your eyelashes; the tube had been bone fucking dry, but Frank used a few drops of water to bring it back to life, swearing up and down it was fine to put near your eyes. And then there was the dress, the goddamn dressed he’d force you into. His favorite part of the makeover and your least favorite. 

“Wait until you see what I found for you to wear,” he’d told you, giddy as if it were him who would be donning a new outfit. “You’re going to love it!”

Skeptical, you had asked, “Am I though?”

Frank had gone to the boutique and found you a dress to wear, and while it was just a tad loose on your frame, he insisted that it would look just fine on you with the help of a safety pin hidden at the back of it, pulling the fabric taut. It was simple enough, white with a subtle sweetheart neckline and thin straps that tied together at your shoulders. The delicate lace fell down in a flowing skirt to just a few inches above your knees and it itched like hell, especially at your sides. Wanting to add a finishing touch to the outfit, Frank had brought you a pair of brown, strappy sandals and he’d let you know that he had a couple of different color options for a cardigan in the event it became too chilly outside. 

“You look perfect,” he gushes. “Like a daydream!”

You look different. But that isn’t what brought on the shock. More than anything, you’re completely taken aback by how fucking normal you look. 

Sure, coming over to Bill and Frank’s always gave you a temporary sense of normalcy. They always allowed you to take a hot shower, gave you the opportunity  to properly wash your hair and change out of your dirty shirt into a new clean one. They always provided you with a warm meal presented on porcelain dishware that wasn’t stained or chipped like the shit you had back home in your crumbling apartment in Boston. You’d had several tastes of normal thanks to those two, but this drastic change to your appearance was overwhelming. Too overwhelming.

You’d never thought that you could look like this, not in this fucking lifetime. 

Frank immediately picks up on your emotions, senses how you’re feeling. Standing behind you, he places his two hands on your shoulders and leans his head forward, pressing his cheek against yours as his kind eyes meet your tearful gaze in the mirror. “You look absolutely beautiful,” he whispers, giving your shoulders a gentle squeeze. “I really hope you feel beautiful. You deserve it. You deserve so much more, but if I can at least give you this much, then my mission is accomplished.”

You open your mouth to speak, but words fall short. Afraid that you might burst into tears on the spot, you clamp your mouth shut and give him the tiniest little nod of your head accompanied by a quivering smile of gratitude. 

Frank smiles back. “Good. Now, come on, let’s go out front and have lunch.” His hands fall from your shoulders and he ushers you out into the hallway and towards the staircase. Looking over his shoulder, he gives you a wink. “I’m really eager to see what your man thinks of your new look.”

“What?” you sputter, almost tripping over your own two feet. “Who—you mean, Joel?”

Shit. You’d almost forgotten about Joel.

What the hell is he going to say when he sees you like this?

What’s he going to think?

Probably that you look utterly fucking ridiculous, that’s what.

“Who else would I be talking about? Bill?” Frank snorts. “Yes, I’m talking about Joel.”

You glare at his back. This isn’t the first time Frank has teased you about Joel Miller, and despite the countless times you’ve sworn to him that there was nothing going on between the two of you, he insists on believing otherwise, adamant that there has to be something more there. “Don’t start with this shit again. He is not my man, and you damn well know that.”

“He might as well be,” Frank shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly as he leads you down the staircase.

“Frank, I’m being serious,” you say. Normally, weren’t so uptight about it all, but today, you’re not finding his antics amusing in the slightest, not while you’re wearing goop on your face and sporting a fucking dress. “I’ve told you a million times that there is nothing going on between me and Joel. He’s my partner.” You pause briefly, realizing how that must have sounded, and add in emphasis, “He’s my work partner. We work together, Frank. We smuggle shit together. That’s it.”

Frank stops at the bottom of the staircase and turns to you, letting out a curious hum. “Hmm. And if I remember correctly, you two also live together, you sleep in the same bed together, you spend every waking moment from sunrise to fucking sunset together—I have never heard of two work partners being that close, sweetheart.”

Stubborn, you shake your head. “He’s like fifty!”

“The world ended and that’s your concern? An age gap?” he questions. “Really?”

“Frank,” you plead his name, groaning. “I swear it. We’re nothing to each other. Joel is—well, he’s Joel. He’s not exactly the type of man who does that. You know, feelings and shit.”

He throws his head back slightly, letting out a loud laugh that echoes through the foyer of his home. “Oh, trust me. I know that much. Between you and me, I have to say that he reminds me a whole lot of Bill,” he muses. He notices the horrified expression that crosses your face and laughs again, holding up his hands in defense. “Wait a minute, just hear me out. They’re polar opposites in some ways, but in most ways, they’re almost the same fucking person. Joel is just like Bill. Cranky. Grumpy. He hates everyone and everything. Kind of man who’ll stab someone if they so much as look at him the wrong way. Would you say that’s pretty accurate?”

“Yeah, sounds like Joel Miller,” you have to admit. As much as you did not want to think of Joel being the same person as Bill, Frank had a pretty good point.

“But Joel also reminds me of Bill because he’s the kind of man who means well when it comes to the people that he cares about. The kind of man who will do whatever it takes to protect what is his,” he further explains. He pauses and then asks, “Let me ask you something. You trust him, right?”

You don’t even miss a beat, answering, “Of course. With my life.”

He ticks his  index finger at you. “Aha! Exactly!” he exclaims. “You know that Joel would never let anyone lay so much as a finger on you. He’d never let anything bad happen to you. And why is that?”

You stare at him blankly, unsure of how to respond. “Is this a trick question?”

Huffing, Frank rolls his eyes and lets out a disappointed sigh, as if you’d missed the obvious. “It’s because you mean something to him, sweetheart. Whether you choose to let yourself believe it or not, you mean something to Joel Miller.”

For a moment, it feels like all the wind’s been knocked out of you. 

Could Frank actually be right? 

Do you actually mean something to Joel?

No, that was impossible. Joel Miller doesn’t give a shit about anyone or anything—all he cares about is surviving long enough to find Tommy again one day, and even then, he never speaks of his younger brother too kindly. He’s been hardened by this world, closed himself off, put up a barrier around himself that nothing can permeate. Not even you.

“Under that tough, rugged exterior, there’s a soft spot. It’s there, for you and only for you.” Frank’s eyes glimmer, speaking a truth he’s been wanting to tell you for the better part of the last several months. “You might need to do some digging to find it, but it’s there.”

“I just don’t understand why you would think that,” you confess, shaking your head. “Joel has never said anything to me to indicate that I mean something to him. More often than not, I find myself wondering if even considering us to be friends is too generous.” You cross your arms over your chest, growing uncomfortable under his knowing stare. “Yes, Joel looks out for me, but that’s only because we work together so well. I know my way around. He needs me, especially if he plans on getting to Tommy.”

Frank bites his bottom lip, stifling another laugh.

“What? What’s so funny?”

“Oh, sweetheart. You don’t even realize it, do you?”

Your eyebrows knit together, confused. “What? Realize what?”

“You are his weakness.”

He’d said it so simply, and yet there goes the rest of your air leaving your lungs, an invisible first driving itself right into your gut. 

“Of course Joel isn’t going to tell you how he feels about you. He’s afraid,” Frank remarks, sounding so sure as if he had been told that by Joel Miller himself.

“You’re wrong. Joel isn’t afraid of anything,” you counter in the steadiest voice you can muster. “You’re wrong, Frank.”

“He’s afraid because he knows how dangerous it is, having a weakness in the form of a person he cares about more than anything can be in a world like this.” Any trace of teasing or playfulness had disappeared from Frank’s expression. He speaks gently, but with purpose, with such seriousness that it makes your heart sink further and further down into the pits of your stomach.

When you speak again, your voice is strained, thick with emotions you’re trying so desperately to shove down. “Frank, you really need to put down the fucking romance novels.” Before he can say another word to you about it, you place a hand lightly on your stomach. “I’m really hungry. Can we go eat now? Please?”

Thankfully, he gets the hint to drop the subject.

“Of course. Come on” Frank takes your hand. He opens the front door and leads you outside and onto the freshly landscaped front lawn. He had been right, the flowers were in full bloom—the small, round table he’d set was positioned in a perfect spot so that no matter where anyone sat, they would have a view of the colorful roses and azaleas he and Bill had planted around the perimeter of the yard.

As soon as he sees you two approaching, Bill throws up his hands in a dramatic fashion. “It’s about goddamn time!” He grouches loudly. “Jesus Christ, Frank. I’m fucking starving!”

“Sorry, got caught up inside.” Frank tosses his partner a sweet smile as he releases your hand. “But look, I found myself something pretty!”

Heat floods your cheeks. You should have known better than to think he wasn’t going to make a fuss about your new appearance. “Frank, please. Don’t.”

“Oh come now, you know I have to show you off!”

Joel, whose back had been turned towards you, furrows his eyebrows and he glances over his shoulder, looking to see what Frank was referring to. His dark brown eyes widen just ever so slightly, the grip around his glass of red wine tightening in complete surprise at the sight of you. Frank had failed, quite miserably, to convince him to dress up for the occasion, but at the very least, he’d talked him into wearing one of the nicer shirts he'd found at the boutique, a neatly pressed, sage green button up with long sleeves that, much to Frank’s chagrin, Joel had rolled up to his elbows. His graying, dark brown curls  might have even had a comb run through them, but it;s  difficult to tell if the way his thick locks were effortlessly disheveled was natural or the result of his efforts to tame them.

“What do you think, Joel?” Frank beams proudly, as if presenting the man with one of his painted art pieces.

Joel doesn’t respond. His eyes remain glued on you, following as you walk around the table and take your usual place beside him.

“Way to put me on the spot, Frank,” you mutter, your face growing warmer and warmer with every second that ticks by. You silently urge yourself to get a grip as you reach for the crisp, white cloth napkin next to your plate and drape it over your lap. The smoked, wild rabbit Bill had cooked up for lunch  smells heavenly—Frank knows  it’s  your absolute favorite dish, and so he had made sure Bill put it on today’s menu, bless his heart. 

Joel still hasn’t uttered a single word. Part of you hopes he wouldn’t.

“Joel?” Frank prompts as he picks up his own cloth napkin. “Doesn’t she look pretty?”

You glare daggers at him from across the table and hiss, “Frank!”

Finally, Joel sets down his glass of wine and turns slowly, angling his body towards yours. When he speaks, his voice is low, but clear as day as he looks at you, “Yeah. She looks very pretty.”

His eyes flicker up to meet yours, causing your heart to skip a beat inside of your chest and a strange warmth to bloom in your belly. 

Had he actually meant that?

“You look real nice,” he adds, giving you a subtle nod of his head. He lets his sights linger on you for another moment before tearing his gaze away. He then turns back to the table, picking up his glass of wine once again, chugging what’s left of it before reaching for the bottle to pour himself another. 

Bill clears his throat roughly. “Well, if everyone’s done playing dress up, I’d really like to fucking eat now.”

Meals with Bill and Frank were always pleasant. 

Well, meals with Frank were always pleasant.

 Although Bill had gotten used to having you and Joel over as guests and didn’t see either of you as a threat anymore, he still preferred to keep you both at arm’s length, a choice you two respected. He hardly ever said much and often chose to let his partner do all the talking unless the conversation had anything to do with trading supplies. Only then would he step in. 

As you’d tucked into your meal of wild rabbit and garden vegetables, you could feel Joel throwing subtle glances your way every so often. It was half expected that he would, seeing as he’d never seen you like this before. He was so used to seeing you in tattered, dirty old clothes with dirt and grime caked onto your skin and in your hair. 

Surely, he must have felt like he was sitting next to a complete stranger, not his smuggling partner.

About an hour later, once everyone has finished eating, you offer to help Frank clear and clean up the table and wash the dishes. He settles for letting you help him bring everything inside, but shoos you away before you can even think about lifting another finger. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it,” he says, waving you away from the kitchen sink with his hands. “You and Joel are taking off in just a couple hours, so go on and get some rest,” he suggests. “Oh, by the way, we found some new books to add to the collection. Might find something you like. Go ahead and check them out.”

“But I forgot my library card at home,” you joke lamely, although it earns you a sincere laugh from your friend. You pad out of the kitchen and into the living room, straight over towards a grand oak bookshelf that is packed tightly to the brim with dozens and dozens of books of various genres. You hadn’t been all that much of a reader before, but thanks to Frank, who always sent you home with at least two or three works in your pack, reading had become one of your favorite hobbies over the last few months, a sweet little escape that took you out of your shoddy apartment in the zone and into another world. You start searching the titles for the new finds he’d mentioned. Spotting one of them, you pluck it from the shelf, a paperback titled, A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Opening it up, you begin thumbing through the pages, quickly realizing that it’s play—you’ve never read a play before. Still not convinced if it’s one you would like to take home with you, you flip back to the first page and start reading with a curious little hum. 

You had been so preoccupied with it that you hadn’t noticed Joel standing behind you, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest until he clears his throat, and asks, “Find somethin’ good?”

Startled, you whirl around, nearly dropping the book in your hands. “Jesus Christ, Joel,” you breathe out, clutching it tightly against your chest as your heart rate slows. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“Not my fuckin’ fault you were too busy with your nose buried in a book,” he states, trying his hardest to fight the small smirk threatening to cross his lips. He uncrosses his arms and pushes himself away from the doorframe.

A chuckle escapes you, almost nervously, as he slowly starts walking over towards you, his brown boots heavy on the hardwood floor. He takes the book from your hands, humming as he reads the cover. “Shakespeare, huh?”

“You know Shakespeare?” you toss him a teeny, lopsided smile as you tease, “He from your time?”

Joel lightly smacks your arm with the worn paperback. “Yeah, I know Shakespeare and he was about four hundred fuckin’ years before my time, thank you very much.” He flips it over, eyes skimming the text on the back. “Had the world not gone to shit, you would’ve grown up and spent your entire middle school career being forced by English teachers to read all his shit and write essays tryin’ to interpret it all.” He hands it back over to you. “Here.”

“Sounds like a real fucking dream,” you deadpan. You glance down, running your index finger down the spine of the book. You’re trying, almost painfully, to ignore how Joel’s eyes glaze over you from head to toe. 

“Y’know, it’s kinda nice,” he remarks quietly, breaking the brief moment of silence that had fallen over the two of you. “Seein’ you like this.”

You keep your eyes fixed on the book and scoff. “What? In a dress?”

“When we’re here, you let your guard down. Ain’t always lookin’ over your shoulder. You smile a hell of a lot more.” He pauses, then adds, “You look happy here. Sure, this dress looks nice on you. Your smile looks even fuckin’ better, though.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. More than his words, it’s the genuine tone in which he had said them—you’d never even realized Joel noticed things like that. Whether you were happy or not, how often you smiled. Or didn’t smile.

You force a small chuckle. “It’s the only sense of normalcy that we get. Of course I look happy when we’re here. Because I am happy when we’re here.” Still refusing to meet his gaze, you turn around and walk over to the couch towards your pack. Opening the top, you quickly shove the book inside. 

When you hear Joel’s footsteps coming up behind you, you stiffen slightly.

“Frank, he adores the hell outta you,” Joel says. He seems to hesitate, but then continues, “You ever think of askin’ him to stay here?”

“You kidding?” You snort in response. “Bill wouldn’t allow that. Never.”

Joel’s hands go to his hips, knowing you had a point. “But you know Frank can convince him of almost anythin’, don’t you? And besides, believe it or not, Bill actually likes you. He loves Frank more than anythin’ and you make Frank happy.”

You finally turn around to face and find yourself caught off guard by how close he’s standing to you. “Joel, what exactly are you getting at?” You raise an eyebrow before playfully asking, “Are you trying to get rid of me or something, Miller?”

Joel quickly shakes his head. “Of course not. All I’m sayin’ is that—” He stops and lowers his voice, just in case Bill or Frank happen to be wandering nearby. “I like seein’ this side of you. The happy side. The normal side.” He shrugs his shoulders, the lean muscles of his upper body flexing with the movement against the smooth fabric of his shirt. “Seein’ you all cleaned up, well fed and content—” He trails off once again. “Shouldn’t be a rare occurrence, y’know? You’d clearly be better off here with them and you know that with Frank’s help, we could probably talk Bill into letting you stay.”

The second you realize he’s being serious, your smile fades.

“What? But what about you?”

“Darlin’, Frank’s good, but he’s not a goddamn miracle worker. Even if he tried, that’s not somethin’ Bill would ever go for,” Joel admits, lifting a hand and raking his fingers through his hair. “And even if he did, we’d fuckin’ kill each other by the end of the first week.”

Bill and Joel being neighbors?

Talk about a different kind of apocalypse, you think to yourself.

“I know that much,” you reply with a tiny eye roll. “What I mean is, do you honestly think that I would leave my life in Boston?”

“That ain’t no fuckin’ life—”

You hold up a hand, stopping him. “I know it’s not. But it’s my life with you, Joel.”

The rough creases on his forehead suddenly soften. That was the first time you’d ever seen that happen.

The scowl on his face wasn’t permanent after all.

“Yes, this is nice. This patch of town, this house, the running water, the food, the clothes—this is a decent life. More than decent. In this world that we’re living in, this place is heaven. But without you, all of it would mean absolutely nothing to me. I wouldn’t be happy here, not without you.”

Joel tilts his head back, shaking it lightly. “Think about what you’re sayin’ here.”

“I know what I’m saying.” Before your brain and your body can even make the connection, you find yourself taking a step towards him, shrinking the gap between your bodies even further. You glance up at him, somehow finally finding the courage to have your eyes meet his. “I refuse to leave your side, Joel. That’s never going to happen. Not if I can fucking help it. Do you understand that?”

Joel exhales the breath he’d been holding, his warm breath tickling your face.

“I mean it, Joel. We’re in this shitty ass fucking world, together. No little slice of heaven could ever get me to leave you behind, no matter how good it is,” you declare, silently wondering to yourself where the hell you were even finding the balls to confess all of this to him. “Okay?”

“You’d be safer here than in the QZ, with all that shit’s that been goin’ down—”

“I’m the safest when I’m with you, Joel. I know I am.”

You lift your hand to his face. At first, there’s minor hesitation on your part, but you will yourself to place it on his cheek. Although your touch is gentle, Joel can’t help but wince. Not because he doesn’t want you to touch him, but because it had been so fucking  long since anyone had ever touched him like that. 

Since he’d let anyone touch him like that. 

He closes his eyes and after a second or two of resisting, he finally allows himself to relax his tense muscles and he sinks  into your touch.

Joel lets himself savor the feeling of your hand on his face. His bottom lip gives a subtle tremble when you softly start to graze your thumb down along his jawline. His beard, which you often playfully tease him about now that it’s beginning to gray just like his hair, feels rough and scratchy, and yet somehow still soft underneath your fingertips.

“Hey,” you murmur, and he forces his eyes to snap open. “We’re in this together. That’s how it’s been and that’s how it’s going to stay,” you assure him. “My place is with you, Joel.”

Joel manages to speak through tight lips, his voice strained. “You really fuckin’ gotta stop talkin’ to me like that, darlin’.”

You carefully move your hand away from his face, letting it drop back down to your side. “Why?”

“‘Cause. Shit like that is dangerous.”

“Dangerous,” you repeat, almost laughing. “Of all the things—”

Then, Frank’s words from earlier come to mind.

He’s afraid because he knows how dangerous it is, having a weakness in the form of a person he cares about more than anything can be in a world like this.

Joel’s dark eyes flicker to the strap of your dress, noticing it had started sliding off your shoulder. Before he can even think to stop himself, he reaches out and pulls it up back into place, his rough, calloused fingers brushing against your smooth skin. “You’re so soft,” he murmurs under his breath. All those fucking years of working with you, even sharing a bed together, and he had no idea of what it was like to touch you.

“Joel…” 

Your heart had all but climbed up into your throat.

“Everythin’ you just said a minute ago, ‘bout not wanting to stay here without me,” he starts to say, “I know that it’s fuckin’ selfish of me, but I’m real glad you said it. ‘Cause no way in hell do I want a life without you. I know it’s wrong but—”

Placing your hands delicately on his shoulders, you lift yourself up on your toes and cut him off mid-sentence by pressing your lips softly against his. The clean scent of the soap Frank had given him to shower with fills your senses and you yearn to have more of him, you nearly ache to get a real taste of him—but your courage only went so far. Thankfully, Joel knows to take over from here. One of his arms snakes  its way around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest while the other reaches up, the warm palm of his hand pressing against your cheek. His tongue swipes lightly across your bottom lip, silently asking for permission to explore your mouth just a little bit further.

You eagerly grant him access, half expecting his mouth to ravage yours.

Much to your surprise, Joel remains gentle.

The way that he kisses you, the way he holds your body against his, the way his large hand—the same hand that slits throats and breaks bones—delicately cradles the side of your face like you’re made of porcelain. 

“Joel,” you nearly whimper his name when he breaks away.

His face remains just inches from yours.

“Fuck,” he mutters, leaning his forehead against yours, fighting to catch his breath. “We’ll need to get goin’ soon.”

“I know.” You nod, hoping you don’t sound as disappointed as you feel. You can sense that Joel, much like yourself, is  at war with himself over what had just happened. Not that either of you regretted it, at least you certainly don’t, but the realization that you two have just crossed a line you’ll never come back from was daunting.

Joel lifts his head, lightly pressing his lips against your forehead. He then forces himself to release you from his arms and steps back, dropping them back down at his sides. “I need to, uh, I need to go get some things from Bill. Y’know, get my pack ready before we take off.”

You nod again. “I’ll start changing and get another pack of supplies ready as well.” You pause, clearing your throat awkwardly. “Joel, about what just happened—”

He silently shakes his head before leaning down, capturing your mouth with his.

This kiss is short and quick, and when he pulls away, he says nothing. He turns on the heel of his boot and disappears, heading out to meet Bill in the garage. 

Your hand flies to your mouth, your fingers lightly touching your lips.

“Well, well, well.”

Looking over your shoulder, your throat goes dry when you see Frank standing there, hands on his hips and a knowing, smug expression on his face. 

“How long have you been standing back there?”

“Long enough.” Even from a distance, you catch the amused twinkle in his eye. “What did I tell you?”

You turn away from him, biting your lower lip.

So maybe he’d been right after all.

Maybe you were Joel’s weakness. 

But he was yours too.

[mellowwillowy]

"Stop the wedding!!"

So you get to see NRC food fighting RSA in the end lol Yan! NRC vs Yan! RSA x GN Isekai'd Player (Self-aware)

All the people inside the cafeteria turned their attention to you, an isekai'd player.

"(Name)!!" Idia beamed in tears, finally someone saving him! ... wait, someone? Oh no no no no! You are not just 'someone'!! Why did he even bother troubling you to this extent? He should have just kissed the bride!!!

"Make it right in time, you got me, Ace?" "Thank you for kicking me like a barrel toward the ghosts, pal," Ace replied dejectedly but posed no annoyance at all.

"Potato, since when do you have the funds to get yourself such a nice suit?" Vil questioned as he inspected your overall. The makeup and hairdo were not done to the utmost perfection but he can let it slide because anything on you equals absolute beauty.

"Oh, this? So you are smart enough to realize Crowley won't cover MY suit! I mean, he was trying teeth and nails to not let me join Ace and Co!"

"At least he does something right for the first time," Leona added. "White suits you though I thought you'd surely go with Black as usual?" Trey cocked his head to the side questioningly.

"Look, this is what Neige lent me. And all his attires are almost pristine white! I'm telling ya'!" At that statement, you saw Vil twitch despite not being able to move, he must have been very pissed at the mention of Neige's name alone.

"Originally I planned on taking Cheny'a's but I realized how eccentric his taste is so I decided to go with Neige. The RSA students are kind enough to assist Neige in tailoring it to my size too! Got them right in time before Crowley could shoo me!"

"Dude, even the RSA knows how to respect them, I don't know if I should be angry or nah but it certainly leaves a bad aftertaste seeing them wearing what RSA makes for them." Cater whispers something to the person next to him, inaudible to your ears.

"What do you say if we steal the suit and then burn it down in front of them after we are done here? I'd like to give them a nice thank you hug too while we are at it." "And we should leave them some of my... flowers collection too. This alone should be enough to show our gratitude right?"

"I'd say we should try giving them a proper form of token of gratitude too, how about Master Lilia's cooking?" Sebek added with a grin, he had his fair share of Lilia's cooking to the point he'd like to share it with the others.

"Oh? Then I'd have to make sure to add extra 'love' into it." He replied, this time intending to poison people so its horrifying taste was multiplied at natural without him realizing it.

"Wait, why would we even bother giving them a handmade cooki-" Jack was immediately silenced by Cater's eerie smile. He had his fair share and he knew they meant nothing well from it at all.

"Hey Ace, do something! Stop throwing all your work on prefect!" Deuce yelled by the sideline, ready to chew his ears off.

"I agree, you shouldn't let someone magic-less handle this handful situation alone, get a hold of yourself right now will you, Ace?" Azul scowled and started to usher Ace into work.

"Dude! Now all of you are cornering me?" "You haven't finished, Ace?!"

And Riddle's voice was all it took to make Ace cowered like a puppy. Rook shook his head in disappointment, this had taken way longer than the original gameplay.

"Hurry! We should wrap things up as though we are changing a dirty tablecloth into a new one!" Epel yelled out rather... unique lines. Was he trying to be as poetic as Rook? If anything, both Rook and Vil said nothing regarding this.

"Riiiiighhhhtttt, I'm kinda checked out now, to be honest." Idia's eyes immediately widened, not you too?!

Just before the other could chant another "Smooch the bride", you immediately lunged toward the bride. All those gym class training paid off! Basically, this and that until the ghost inflated.

And instead of Rook ordering you and Epel around, you took the steering wheel before anyone could. "Move yer' ass you glorified wood logs! Move move move!"

The lucky person is the person who gets to feel you dragging them. Absolute win!

--

"Urgh, I'm so gonna have phasmophobia now." Idia rolled his eyes as the ghosts departed but to be honest? He was happy to see you barging into the cafeteria like a knight in shining armor for him! (It was mostly the others fighting lol)

Idia was taken by surprise the moment your hand smacked his back. "Would you look at it, the star of the show, a handsome groom adorned in black! You look positively breathtaking, senior Idia."

"Eep-! Oh no, they have graced me with their words that are enough to deafen me! What should I do? How should I show them just how grateful I am to be even considered by them???"

"What did you say? I couldn't hear you really well." "Well, brother said that-" "N-n-no! Nothing! I uh... am thankful... for your assistance." He answered bashfully, his hair tip turned into a shade of pink.

"Now now potato, it's time to change, wearing that must have been uncomfortable right?" Vil immediately pulled you away from the pink introvert. "No...? Neige said that it's meant to be comfortable and it's true!" "Well, we have something even wayyyy more comfortable for you, shrimpy! Come on now, let's take it off and dress you up in something else!"

--

Lilia was leading everyone with a basket of something, a speaker in one hand and Neige's suit in the other hand, "Hey you RSA whippersnappers! Get down!"

The head mage was coincidentally away that day and it allowed the NRC students to lead a protest in front of the academy's gate.

Lilia threw the white suit onto the ground while Leona whistled, signaling Rook to shoot an arrow of fire toward it like an Olympic grand opening. (What a duo.)

"Yeah! Eat this you good for nothing!" Cater and Ruggie immediately took out the pie from Lilia's basket and threw it right onto the students' face. Kalim was generous enough to sponsor lots of baking materials for Lilia with Jamil assisting with the baking. It was badly burnt but still hard as a rock.

Cheny'a was careful enough to avoid Trey and Riddle while Vil was feeling rather generous in feeding Neige~ Oh, and Malleus is always bullseye in his shots, hitting everyone down in no time. He was pretty pissed (sulking) that he was not invited to join your fun. Silver was not being merciful too, he didn't fall asleep at all during this whole thing!.

Rollo was feeling rather grateful but also sad that you did not come to him to ask for his help :( And Crowley just watched everything from the sidelines while praying that nothing bad will be sent to him after this. Well, he's happy with how bright his students are.

[cyn-write]

"She Blazes Me Beyond All Control"

Summary: Rollo has been eyeing you since your arrival, seeing you as the diamond amongst coals. At the Ball, he corners you into a dance, but your BF is not going to let this slide...

Pairings: Azul, Idia, Melleus x F!reader (Y/N)

warnings: Possessive behavior, suggestive, manipulation and obsession (Rollo), established relationships, romantic ~

Note: This came to me while playing Glorious Masquerade! Let me know if you want a part 2 or any other characters. I really enjoyed writing this and hope to do more! Enjoy!

Edit: Click this link for Riddle, Deuce, Ruggie, and Jamil!

Click Here for Rollo!!

Prologue

"Who might you be miss?"

Y/n gave a kind smile and nodded her head in greeting "I'm y/n, it's nice to meet you," she stayed next to Trein as she was there as his assistant.

"Yuu is our magicless perfect of Ramshackle. She will be working as my assistant throughout the trip," Trein added.

She felt Rollo's eyes scan her and, unlike his greetings to the rest, he held out a hand. Being poilet she offered her hand as well and he lifted it to his lips, grazing her knuckles quickly. "It is a pleasure to meet you, y/n. I understand it must be difficult, being surrounded by mages every second of the day. I hope you get a chance to relax this trip."

Y/n blushed at the motion and bit her lower lip. All the while she could feel her boyfriend glaring daggers into her and Rollo.

"I-I'll do my best..." Y/n replied.

Throughout the entire trip, Rollo seemed to gravitate towards y/n and used every excuse to isolate her from the group. They chatted about her difficulties at NRC and of the festival. Due to her being Trein's assistant and the constant reminders to behave she and her Boyfriend had little time together.

This all accumulated at the Masquerade. Rollo had given Y/n a proper dress for the occasion instead of the attire his counsel had chosen. The (color) fabric decadently adorned your figure and stunned the NRC boys with its beauty. But before her boyfriend could ask for a dance, Rollo stole y/n away. He whisked her to the dance floor and they started chatting. At this point, Y/N's boyfriend has had enough of the student counsel president, but what sent him over the edge is when he takes you to the balcony and dare suggest the worst:

"Y/n, stay here with me." Y/n turned quickly on her heels to Rollo in confusion, "The fools at NRC do not deserve your purity. You belong here. with me." He has her pinned against the balcony, "This is your sanctuary."

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul could sense Rollo's eyes on you since your arrival. He tried to be civil as Rollo was a possible future ally, but even a merchant has his limits.

He walks with purpose from his hiding place and places a firm hand on Rollo's shoulder.

"You are quite mistaken Rollo." Azul said with his business smile hiding his true rage, "You see, y/n is deeply loved at NRC and she needs no sanctuary when she has me to look after her." He moves Rollo to the side with surprising strength and takes his beloved's hand, pulling her to him and grazing her fingers with his lips, "Isn't that right, Anglefish?"

Y/n smiled so bright that Azul might have mistaken her for gold, "I couldn't have said it better myself."

Azul held on to his Anglefish as he gestured to the ballroom, "it is simply criminal that we have gone this long without a dance, especially when you look this~"

Y/n nodded with a giggle and as they left Azul gave Rollo a final glare.

"One last thing before we return to the crowd." Azul pulled in y/n for a passionate kiss. All in view of Rollo who was revolting at the sight of his pure beauty being kissed by a sea mage.

After a breathless kiss, Azul led his beloved away, sweeping her onto the dance floor. They danced the night away and during a particularly romantic number, Azul leaned into his beloved's ear, pushing away her h/c hair, and whispered.

"I am sorry for letting this get too far. But I can assure you, once we are alone, I promise to show you how much you set my heart ablaze~"

Idia Shroud

Idia was never one for confrontation, but when his girlfriend was being stolen from him, well he did hate to lose.

"Where did you get the villain monologue from? A crappy kids movie?" Idia strode into the balcony and grabbed y/n out from under the creep. "The whole leave them and stay with me thing only works in ottoman games or one-off episode romances and I know y/n hates those subplots." He held y/n close to his chest. "Now, you leave my girlfriend alone, everyone knows in love triangles that the girl always chooses the hero, not the villain."

Y/n looked at Idia in awe. Her boyfriend hated confrontation, but he swooped in like Prince Charming and saved her.

"Idia's right. I love NRC. I could never leave." She said firmly and held locked her arms around his waist, "besides, I could never leave my knight in shining armor!"

Rollo stood in furry as the shut-in stole his beauty. He was shocked that the introverted mage confronted him, or that he was y/n's partner.

Idia glared at Rollo as he guided y/n away from the creep. "See ya Creep."

The moment they were out of Rollo's sight, Idia released a breath and melted into his beloved's embrace.

"Ohmysevensthatwasthescariestthingihadeverdoneinmylife." Idia nearly collapsed into y/n, but he held her tight.

"Idia, you were brilliant! I never thought you could do that, you were like a prince swooping in to save the princess." Y/n hugged Idia back. her anxiety and fear she felt from the situation finally settled in and a few tears started rolling down, "I was so scared idia..."

He pulled back slightly to look at her teats. He whipped away her tears and kissed her forehead, "I'm sorry I didn't say anything sooner, He was just so... scary. But when I heard him talking to you like that, i-it got my blood boiling." He placed a hand on her cheek and pressed his forehead against hers, "I know I don't show it as often as i should, but I really do love you... uhg I sound stupid..." Idia's face was burning as pink as his hair.

Y/n smiled and pressed a sweet kiss to Idia's lips, "I know what you mean... I love you too, my star hero."

Idia smiled and kissed y/n again with a deep passion.

He smiled a toothy grin as he heard the enchanting melody seeping from the ballroom. "I know it's lame, but we are all done up in festival cosplay... care to dance?"

Y/n pressed a kiss to Idia's cheek, "I'd love to!"

The couple didn't go back to the crowd. They instead danced right there, just outside the ballroom.

As the music played, Idia leaned into his beloved and whispered,

"I wouldn't be much of a Knight in shining armor if I let my princess think she was unloved... how about I show you how much I burn for you?"

Melleus Draconia

Dragons were possessive creatures, and Malleus was no exception. He did not think much of Rollo and y/n's interaction, but this blatant display of affection towards his perfect. The sky cracked with thunder as Malleus glared down at Rollo from his place lurking spot. Rollo had the audacity to steal the first dance, now he was trying to take away the woman he loved. This would not do.

Y/n pushed Rollo away slightly and spoke up, "Thank you for the offer, but I have not intention of leaving NRC. It is difficult at times but I wouldn't have it any other way. Now if you excuse me, I want to go back to the ball."

Rollo grabbed y/n's wrist and pulled her against him. "It's because of Draconia, isn't it? He has bewitched you!" He pinned her between the balcony wall and him. "Those fiends have enchanted you, but I will free you from those chains and show you salvation! No matter the cost!"

"I think you misheard. Y/n said no." That is when Malleus stepped in. He floated above the two and threw Rollo off his perfect. He swooped y/n into his arms, carrying her like a bride. Oh, how he wished she was his bride, but not now, not yet.

Rollo scowled at Malleus, "You daemon, you and all your kind!"

Malleus' anger flared and another crack of thunder filled the air. He floated down so he was at eye-level with this monster. "If you dare touch another hair on her head, I will show you my true capabilities."

Y/n places a hand on Malleus' chest, "Tsunotarou, remember, we are guests here. What would Trein say if he heard of this?"

Malleus looked at y/n's e/c eyes and sighed. He stepped back, turned on his heels, and left the balcony and the angry monster on it.

Once they were a safe distance from the balcony, out of sight from the crowd, Malleus put y/n down and hugged her close to his chest. "Y/n, I'm sorry I didn't step in sooner. Did he hurt you?"

Y/n could feel the worry in Malleus' voice reverberate in his chest. She placed a hand on his cheek and stocked his soft skin "You saved me just in time Mal." She kissed his other cheek and said, "Thank you, my Prince Charming."

Malleus, in a surge of passion, kissed y/n deeply. He held her so close as if she might disappear if he let go. Y/n reciprocated the kiss.

Malleus parted and looked at the child of man's eyes "I hope you know how much my heart burns for you. Seeing you in the arms of another, it pains me more than anything else." His eyes were filled with a deep love for her. "I know how difficult it is to be an outcast, but I promise I will always be here for you. Even if the world is burning around us, I will hold you close and keep you safe until my dying breath."

Y/n felt her eyes water at his words. "Thank You Mal, I love you so much."

"I love you too, Y/n," Malleus pressed his lips against hers in a fiery passion. They stayed like this for a few minutes exchanging passionate kisses as the music played. Then another symphony started to play and the calls of their companions grew louder.

Malleus chuckled and stepped back, taking one of her hands and bowing to press a kiss to it,

"We can continue this later in private. For now, may I have this dance, my flame?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Note: Please Like, Reblog, and Follow for more! If you are interested in seeing an NSFW part 2 or want to see more characters in this scenario, please let me know! (Do not Steal)

[naivegh0ul]

What about finally Older Simon Ghost Riley breed the innocent reader? PLEASE

(Love your work, please continue<3 )

I'm glad you like my work :) Hope you like this one!

(warnings: smut, fem reader, older!ghost, fingering, PiV, loss of virginity, brief mention of overstimulation)

(word count: 2,104)

Ghost had been tinkering with his car in his garage with the door open when he heard your sweet voice. "Hey, love." He said as you handed him a cold bottle of water.

He'd taken to calling you 'love' after he saw how you reacted to it the first time, and you still shiver the same way, but now he gets to see the way you glance away from him, clearly embarrassed.

"Hi, Mr. Riley." Is what you responded. He loved the way you called him 'Mr. Riley', the way your lips moved around the words, it made him want to bend you over the hood of his car and fuck you until those words were all you knew.

Ghost watched as you walked towards him, eyeing up the hood of his car, and Ghost could almost swear you were thinking the same thing he was. "Nice car." You complimented.

"Thanks. Want a ride?" He offered you, smirking slightly as he took a sip of his water. He watched your eyes widen slightly at his words and you nodded your head.

Ghost opened the passenger door for you, even buckling you in, treating you like a proper passenger princess. He climbed into the driver's side after, and he could see you staring at him from the corner of his eye but he didn't say anything about it, he only smirked.

The engine roared as he turned the key, and Ghost pulled out of the driveway, speeding off down the street. He drove fast to impress you, and he saw the giddy little smile you had on your face. So cute, he thought, and he bravely leaned over and placed a hand on your thigh.

He saw you jump at the contact and Ghost smiled a little, rubbing his thumb back and forth on your thigh comfortingly. When you looked over at him, your eyes so big and pretty, Ghost just couldn't resist. He squeezed your thigh, sliding his hand further up.

You didn't say anything, instead you parted your thighs slightly, which Ghost took as permission to keep going. His fingers moved to your inner thigh and went up, brushing his pinky finger against the fabric of your panties.

Ghost pulled his hand away teasingly and he heard you let out a tiny whine. "Shh, love, be patient." He cooed as he pulled the car into an empty parking lot and turned it off.

The sun had started to set, and there was no one around, making the setting like something out of Ghost's dreams. "Come here, sweetheart." Ghost said, patting his lap as he leaned back in his seat.

He watched as you obediently climbed into his lap, mauvering yourself around for a moment before settling down. He looked up at you, seeing those gorgeous eyes looking right back at him.

"Mr. Riley, I…" You started, looking away embarrassedly. Ghost cupped your cheek and guided you to look back at him gently. "Talk to me, beautiful. Do you want this?" He said, rubbing your cheekbone with his thumb.

You relaxed, and Ghost smiled a little. "Yes, I do. I've just… I've never done this before." You admitted softly, lips pouting so cutely.

Ghost's eyes widened and he felt himself chub up in his jeans at the revelation. "Oh, darlin', you're a virgin? Come here, let me kiss you. We'll take this slow, alright?"

You nodded your head and leaned closer to Ghost, pressing your plush lips against his own carefully. Ghost had to refrain himself from bucking his hips up at the feeling of your lips on his, that feeling is something he's been dreaming of for months.

He moaned, tasting your strawberry lip gloss on his tongue and he prodded at your lips with the muscle, demanding entry. When you parted your lips, he pushed his tongue in immediately.

Ghost licked into your mouth, his tongue sliding along yours and sucking on it. "You taste delicious." He groaned as his hands slid down to your hips, toying with the waistband of your skirt. They slid further down and rested on your thighs before squeezing lightly, and he smiled when you squirmed and looked away.

"Let me make you feel good, baby." Ghost whispered, his voice rough and filled with lust. His hands grabbed your hips again and he began to rock you back and forth on his lap, making you rub yourself on him.

"That's it, rub that pretty pussy on me." You shuddered at Ghost's bold words, your eyes squeezing shut as you did what he said. Watching you grind your clothed cunt on Ghost's erection had him letting out a shaky breath, his head falling back against the headrest.

Ghost just let you do what you want, letting you control the pace. His hands stroked up and down your thighs the whole time, gripping them each time you mewled when your clit brushed his zipper.

The way you writhed on Ghost's lap, your hands holding onto his shoulders tightly, your soft thighs bracketing his, it was enough to make his control waiver.

His hands gripped your hips and pulled you back, shushing you when you made a confused noise and tried to get closer to him. One of Ghost's hands slipped beneath your skirt and began to rub his finger along your slit through your panties.

You jolted, hips jerking and back arching at the feeling. You clenched around nothing and let out a needy whine, moving your hands from Ghost's shoulders to his arms, groping and grabbing his biceps as his finger brushed your clit.

"Right there, sweetheart?" Ghost teased, smirking at you as you moaned, the sound echoing through the interior of the car. Ghost felt how wet you were, your panties positively soaked. "Fuckin' look at you. So wet, all for me."

The way your thighs were twitching, your moans getting louder and more high-pitched, Ghost could tell you were close. He doubled down on his efforts, focusing on your swollen clit.

"Are you close, baby? Gonna make a mess of these pretty panties for me?" You nodded your head, overwhelmed tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Ghost shoved his hand underneath your panties and pushed two of his thick fingers into your sopping wet hole.

Your back arched and you cried out, clenching down on Ghost's fingers as you creamed over his hand, your juices spilling down his wrist.

Seeing you like this, back arched and lips parted around a moan, it made Ghost snap. He pulled his fingers out and grabbed your thighs roughly.

"You have any idea what you do to me, sweetheart?" Ghost growled as he yanked your panties down, the task difficult in the position you two were in. Instead of getting you to sit up and pull them off that way, Ghost just grabbed the sides and tore the thin fabric off you.

"You have any idea how many times I saw you wearin' those slutty fucking skirts and I just wanted to lift them up and get on my knees for you? Hmm?"

You gasped at Ghost's filthy words and the way he ripped your panties apart like it was nothing, "Mr. Riley-" You tried to say but Ghost quickly silenced you with a kiss, pressing his lips to yours roughly.

"Little girl," He growled against your lips, the sound of a zipper being opened permeating the air. "I am going to ruin you." Suddenly, you were being lifted up the hips and pressed against Ghost's chest with his tip nudging at your hole.

He whispered dirty things in your ear as he slowly pulled you down onto his cock, cooing sweetly when you flinched and moaned at his size. "Takin' me so well." Ghost praised.

Ghost watched as you sank down on his cock, watching as you took all of him easily. "Good girl." He cooed, a proud lilt in his tone as he watched you panted and whined on his lap.

After a moment of Ghost letting you adjust to his size, he slowly dragged you up by your hips and dropped you back down, smiling as you squealed and kicked your legs at the feeling.

You tightened up around Ghost, your face contorting into one of pure, pleasure-filled bliss. "Does that feel good, baby?" Ghost asked with a smirk as you opened your mouth to speak but all that came out was a weak string of moans.

Ghost laughed meanly at your feeble attempt at speaking. "Come on, use your big girl words." He said. When you didn't respond, Ghost's smile widened. "Don't tell me you're cockdrunk already. Aww, poor thing."

When you tried to hide your face in Ghost's shoulder, he pulled you down onto his cock and gripped your face tightly, your cheeks squishing together. "Keep those pretty eyes on me, sweetheart." Ghost said, shaking your face back and forth lightly as he cooed and pouted teasingly.

"Mr. Riley." You mumbled. eyes teary and desperate as you rocked your hips back and forth, trying to get your message across. "What, love?" Ghost played the innocent act, pretending as if he has no clue what you're trying to tell him.

You let out an embarrassed whine, trying to look away and hide your face again. "Eyes on me." Ghost reminded you with a stern look, smiling as you nodded your head obediently. "Good girl." He leaned forward and kissed you passionately, his hand slipping off your face down to the side of the seat.

All of a sudden, you're lurching forward as Ghost leans the seat back. "Now," Ghost started as his hands slid up and down your thighs, squeezing them to his heart's content. "Ride me."

You looked down at Ghost with wide, unsure eyes. "It's alright, sweetheart. Ride me like one of your toys. Be a good girl and ride this cock."

Nervously, you did as he said. Lifting yourself up carefully, shivering at the delicious drag of Ghost's thick cock along your walls, before you dropped yourself down with a moan.

"There we go, baby. Just like that." Ghost groaned as he watched you fuck yourself on his cock, his head falling back against the headrest as you clenched around him. He felt you speed up, the sound of your thighs slapping against his echoing throughout the car,

He noticed you'd gotten quieter and when he looked up at you, he saw you staring intently down at your stomach, watching as a bulge appeared and disappeared. "Fuck!" Ghost grunted, immensely turned on by the fact that his cock is so big that it causes your stomach to bulge each time you sit down on him.

Ghost's hand shot out to your lower abdomen, pressing down on it and watching as you mewled and whimpered, your eyes rolling back at the feeling. Ghost grabbed your hips, deciding that you were going to slow for his liking and he flipped the two of you around so that you were laying on the seat and Ghost was thrusting into you.

You looked down as Ghost fucked you, obsessed with the way his cock filled you completely to the brim. He made your brain fuzzy, made your thighs shake and your mouth spill filthy moans.

The car smelled of sex and him, that distinct musk that always made you go crazy whenever he was near you. Ghost angled his hips upwards slightly while you were mid-daydream, causing his cockhead to ram right into your sweet spot.

You cried out Ghost's name, wailing, "Mr. Riley!" Ghost shook his head at your words as he continued to fuck you, breathing heavily as his balls slapped against your ass and his cock twitched inside you. "Simon, love. Call me Simon." He panted.

The sudden intimacy of him allowing you to call him by his first name hit you like a truck, causing your back to arch violently at your thighs squeezed around Ghost's waist as you came. Not only was your neighbour, the mine you've been pining over for months, taking your virginity in his car, he's also allowing you to call him by his real name.

"Simon!" You repeated over and over as your cunt clenched, tightening around Ghost's cock. Your eyes rolled back once again, profanities mixed with Ghost's name coming from your open, drooling mouth.

Ghost takes the opportunity of your open mouth to spit on your tongue, ordering you to swallow as he continued to fuck you into overstimulation. "Shh, sweet girl," Ghost shushed you when you whimpered and complained about how sensitive you are. "I want at least two more of those from you."

1000 followers special! Thank you guys so much for 1k followers. I wanted to give you something special for the occasion and I hope this is okay! Love you all <3

[phasecornnuts]

Hiiiiiiii! If you’re still open for requests maybe you might wanna write something where the reader casually mentioned that they/she had a partner on earth before they died and Alastor takes it a bit too drastically and has just been very salty and asking too many questions 😭 if you like that

Please & thanks ❤️

Hey guys I've returned! Sorry for taking a little while, I was busy with finals/I wanted to relax on my spring break so I didn't have a lot of time. I lowkey kind of cooked with this one too so enjoy :3

Also, I sorta made the reader be from around the same time period as Alastor (sorta late 1910s early 1930s) for extra spice

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had become a daily routine for you and Alastor to have afternoon tea together in cannibal town. Always, between the hours and four and six o’ clock after Alastor had finished his broadcast and you, your hotel duties, the both of you would walk down to Rosie’s Emporium to nibble on finger sandwiches, candied eyeballs, and other treats. 

The sun was still high in the sky, sending fingers of light through the windows of the cafe; the building was alive with the chatter of demons and hell-born alike. You and Alastor had just sat down, a short cannibal girl with a heart-shaped face and glowing brown ringlets placing your usuals on the table. Oh how beautiful they were! Too pretty to eat, garnished with tiny sprigs of mint (or, at least, it may have been mint) and resting on plates of delicate porcelain. With polished silver beside them, and matching teacups and saucers too, it all looked like a party for a girl’s favorite doll.

That is, if it weren’t human meat. 

Looking up from your plate, you saw Alastor turn his head to follow the cannibal girl making you frown. His gaze returned to you before he caught you staring, a chipper grin on his face as always.

“She could be a dead ringer for Mary Pickford, don’t you think?”

Your eyebrows perked. You hadn’t looked long at the girl admittedly, though you stared long enough to know that she was no Pickford. You pursed your lips,

“I don’t see it, Lillian Gish maybe.”

He looked at you like a mad-woman, “You don’t!?”

“No! Her eyes are much too large!”

Alastor chuffed, proceeding to rest his chin on his dark hand, “In the eye of the beholder I suppose.” 

You rolled your eyes, “You only say that because of her curls,” you stated while picking up the teapot and pouring yourself and Alastor your cups, “Now, drink before it gets cold.”

For much of your lunch neither of you spoke, merely enjoying each other’s presence while pecking on some food here and there. Throughout the meal the waitress brought more plates, pancreas tarts, minced tongues coated with cinnamon sugar, and sweet pies filled with rotted venison and cooked kidneys, all Rosie’s treat. Alastor had been taken by the small pies in their mulled deliciousness, the meat so tender you saw his eyes water. He pleaded you to try one, though you couldn’t, your stomach filled to the brim from the other treats and delicacies. 

Alastor picked up the small pair of silver tongs from beside him and placed two sugar cubes in his tea, “I do say, it’s nice to have a meal companion again.” He took a sip from his teacup and grinned. 

You nodded in agreement, lifting the milk jug from the table and pouring a generous amount into your cup. “Likewise. Good dinner conversation is a horrid thing to lose.”

“Truly.” He took another drink. “Before you, I hadn’t had a proper luncheon since my mother.”

“From what you tell she sounded like a fine woman.” His grin lost its eeriness, becoming fond instead. 

“She truly was, and such a fine cook too.” Alastor gazed at the fine pattern painted on the rim of his saucer, “her jambalaya was the best, our side of the Mississippi” he chuckled. He began to remember then, “And her gumbo and her crawfish etouffee and her pecan pralines”

It was odd to hear his voice so full of affection, but nice too. So strange, to think a man who broadcasted his murders of other overlords and feasted on their flesh was once a little boy who clung to his mothers skirt and happily ate her cooking. 

“Maybe one day you’ll cook for me then?” you teased

“Oh why wouldn’t I for my favoritest of sinners?” He took your hand.

You leaned in towards him, a silent flirtation. “Or perhaps I could prepare something for you?”

He looked at you from his dark, hooded eyes, a certain intrigue radiating from them. “Would you now?” he said, leaning in closer. 

“Oh I would, anything you’d like.” the tip of your oxford lingering at his ankle. “My food was good enough for my darling back on earth, why would an overlord of hell have any complaints? Other than not enough seasoning I suppose.” 

That was when the laughter in his eyes died. Alastor bit the inside of his cheek before finding the words to speak, “Your darling?”

 “Pardon?”

“You had someone,” He straightened up, pulling himself away from you, “back on earth?”

“I hardly see how it matters now.” 

Alastor’s tone grew curt, had such a simple word bruised his ego? 

He crossed his arms, “What were they like?” each word as sharp as his teeth.

You pulled your hands close to you, confused at his curtness, “They were….they were nice. Cordial, spirited, vivacious, however you would put it. If you’re-” Alastor cut you off. 

“How did you meet them?”

“On the trolley.” That only served to make him scoff.

“Tch, how common. The trolley.”

You chewed your bottom lip, trying to deny the anger towards him that began to knot in your belly. “It was a different lifetime.” You asserted, a hard finality to it. Pushing yourself from the small table you smoothed your skirt and adjusted the ribbon that was tied so nicely in your hair. 

Without looking at him you said, “Tell Rosie I’m grateful for her hospitality and I will try to find a way to repay her. Also that I’m sorry that I had to retire without saying hello but I feel rather…faint.” Before leaving completely you said, “See you back at the hotel.”

The rest of the day you hid in your room, sulking and pacing. Charlie had tried to coax you out, seeing how angry you’d been when you came back, but you denied every effort she had. 

“It’s not good to stay cooped up in there,” the Princess pleaded.

“I like my alone time.”

 “But- but I had games planned! Husk was going to show us how to play Blackjack and Dominoes!”

“I prefer bridge, and he’ll just cheat us anyways.”

She gave a disappointed sigh, and outside the door you could hear Vaggie talking to her, telling Charlie to give you your space. 

For three nights straight you avoided Alastor, finishing up your hotel duties quickly before hiding in your room. You grew bored after the first day admittedly, a person could only sleep and bathe and read so much. The fourth night is when he knocked on your door while you lied draped on your couch, your nose in a book you’d already finished before. Thinking it was Charlie, you ignored it, sure she’d get the message. It insisted however, rapping harder the second time. You sighed, annoyed. “Who is it?”

“Alastor, may I come in?”

A sour taste came in your mouth, “No.”

“You cannot lock yourself away from me forever.” 

You lifted yourself off the couch, full of bitterness, “I can and I will!”

An electric hum filled your ears, the sound of Alastor weighing his words, “Could you at least entertain my attempt?”

Walking to the door and opening it slightly you saw his face, those deep, hooded eyes dark as blood, cracked lips, and hollow cheekbones. All of those beautiful, haunting features draped in remorse. You sighed, cursing the affection you had for him. 

“Fine, but I’m still cross with you.” That made him smile, if only a tad. 

Opening the door fully, you saw he’d brought one of the dining carts from the unused kitchen clad in a clean white sheet. Alastor pushed it to the center of the room before spiritedly ripping the cover from the cart, presenting polished silver dishes of raw meat and organs. From the bottom shelf of it, he had pulled a fine bottle of wine and two shining glasses.

“I helped myself to a bottle of Husk’s finest, the patrons here don’t have as refined tastes as you and I.” He gave a small grin. So this is what he brought with him, a peace offering. Your stomach was empty from only eating a small meal earlier in the day, so perhaps it was not in vain, though you weren’t sure if you were ready to forgive him. 

“I’ll help you set the table,” you offered, feeling guilty he put so much effort into pleasing you. 

Alastor held his hands up, “No need darling.” He put his hand on his throat, “What I said the other day was very…” he coughed into his hand, “ungentlemanly of me, and I wanted to make it up to you.” 

You folded your hands and held them to your chest, looking at the embarrassment he tried to hide. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath, and raised your gaze to his. “Thank you, Alastor.” His grin widened as he sat down beside you. 

He uncorked the bottle of wine, beginning to pour it into the glasses, “Of course.” He handed you the glass which you took gladly. The vintage was so dark it looked black, reflecting the lights that glowed from the ceiling. Swishing it, you could see the hidden shades of red that the wine hid.

“Demon’s blood, Husk calls it.” Alastor told you before he took a long sip. 

“Fitting. Do you know how long he’s aged it?” Alastor shrugged, taking another swallow. 

“I didn’t care to ask, but it tastes so good going down. Come, drink, I didn’t bring this up so I could get drunk by myself.” That made you giggle, how much he valued the both of you eating and drinking together. 

Taking his lead, you titled your head back, savoring the warm burn of the wine going down. Its hot fingers lingered in your chest before fading, like drinking cold medicine. In three large gulps you finished your glass, noticing the way Alastor’s eyes watched your throat as you drank. After finishing your second glass you began to dig into the food he’d brought, pancreas tarts, cooked kidneys and…oh good god! On the largest plate was a raw heart, fresh and bloody. 

“Where did you get this? You shouldn’t have!” Your eyes went wide and your mouth began to salivate. A raw heart! Oh and it was human too! Such a fine delicacy must have taken so much begging from Alastor!

“Rosie owed me a favor. And I owe it to you, for making such a jackass of myself.” 

You took another sip of your wine, feeling your face begin to flush. You helped yourself to a tart while Alastor poured himself another glass. As you ate you felt his eyes on you again, focusing on the way your teeth bit into the pastry, your swan’s neck showing your swallow, and how your tongue dragged across your lips. Feeling bold, you placed your feet in his lap and wiped the corner of your mouth with your finger, licking the tip of it with your tongue. He swallowed, hard, his eyes growing wide. 

“Are you looking at something?” Your voice a heavy seduction.

“Possibly.” He drank again. Leaning back on the arm of the couch, he placed his glass on the floor. The tips of his fingers grazed your legs, “Though I do have another question for you, if I may.”

A sultry smirk grew on your face, “That depends on what it is, Al.” God, you could see the glint in his eyes then.

Alastor looked up at you from his hooded eyes, “I’ve been wondering…about your “darling.” You arched an eyebrow; your interest piqued. “Did they ever have…you?” His breath shuddered. 

“Have me, how?” You teased.

“Oh humor me my dear,” He purred

You smirked and shifted your legs in his lap. “Hmm, maybe once or twice…” You sit up from your recline and crawl onto his lap.

“What sorts of things did they do to you?” 

Running your fingers down his chest you savored the way he squirmed and shifted, “All sorts of unholy things” 

Alastor choked on his breath, his eyes transfixed on your face. Slowly, he caught it, regaining a certain boldness afterwards. His hand found the top of your stocking, fingering the nylon taut to your thighs. “Getting rather comfortable aren’t we my dear?”

The smirk you had deepened and you pulled in closer, feeling the heat of his breath tickle your cheeks. You looked into his eyes, “I could get much more comfortable if you like, Al.” For what seemed like ages you lingered, until you felt you had tortured the man enough. Slowly, you leaned in, seemingly ready to kiss his shiny red lips. Grinning, you pulled a piece of dry skin from his bottom lip between your teeth, peeling it to show the bleeding flesh beneath. 

You sat back on his lap and spat out the skin. Looking at him, you saw that hunger in his eyes again. That fine line of decorum the two of you had with one another, ignoring the lingering gazes and longing touches, all thrown away with one bite. Underneath, you could feel his arousal beginning to grow hard. You rolled your hips slightly into him, earning a throaty groan from Alastor. From the silver dining cart you pulled the piece de resistance, that raw bleeding heart, and sunk your teeth into it, tasting the sweet flavor of iron. Trails of blood dripped from your mouth onto your decolletage, slowly turning brown and flaky.

Alastor’s breath heaved, growing even harder from that sultry cannibalistic display. He pulled you towards him and pressed your mouth to his, saccharine saliva mixing with sanguine. His tongue slid and twisted about yours, savoring every inch of its taste. You pulled away from him to catch your breath, making him whine. Leaning in again, he dragged his tongue along your neck, cleaning up the drying strings of blood. 

Both of you straightened up then, him holding you proper now. One hand ran its fingers through his shiny red hair and the other cupped his aching sex, so taut against his trousers. 

“Is that what you were so upset about Al? If they fucked me or not?” You purred into his ear.

The tips of your fingers fluttered over his hip, tracing its edge before returning to his cock. “I bet you wondered if I did this to them, didn’t you?” A small nip was placed on his neck, leaving a red half-moon. Your breath grew hot against his cheek as you whispered into his ear again, 

“Maybe I did, and maybe I did so many more dirty things to them.” 

Alastor enraptured your mouth in another needy kiss. His words heavy with radio static, “What sort of things my dear? Or are you all talk?” Your grin widened seeing the shock in his eyes when you began to unbutton his overcoat.

“Let me show you.”

Four little words was all it took to send him over the edge. Picking you up, his hands traced over all the parts of your succulent body. When he flopped you on the bed, hair as tousled as a pin-up, you reached out a stockinged leg to him, that devious look on your face growing. Oh how badly he wanted to have you, hastily unzipping your dress as you stripped him down to his undershirt and trousers. Deft fingers hooked around the tops of your stockings, pulling them down as fast as they could. You dropped his trousers and took off his shirt, admiring all of that soft, gray skin.

You pressed your mouth to the flesh of his stomach, blessing it with small love-bites that made him shudder. All along his torso you left red patches and traced your cool fingertips along the hard edges where his ribs poked out. You tilted your head up and moved his hands to the straps of your brasserie, exposing all of your hot, yearning flesh. He cupped a breast and lied on top of you. Grinding his sex to yours he moaned into your mouth. It had been so…so long since you’d been wanted, since someone pressed their body to yours and you felt all of their heat as they slid into you, over and over again. 

“Al,” You breathed

“What is it?”

“Get on your back.” 

And so he did. 

Alastor’s back against the mattress and your palms against his chest, you let him enter you. He let out a string of curses when you did, and even more when you started moving in those easy rolling motions. Those large hands of his held the curve of your waist as you rode him, his eyes half-lidded as he watched your breasts bounce. 

“The first time I saw you…” You began, going a little faster, “I wanted you,” You heard a small thud as he dropped his head against the pillows.

“I thought about you kissing me and touching me all over” That’s when the pulses of pleasure started to build up, prickling you in sweet needles that went all the way up your spine.

“And about you sticking your fingers in me and..and your tongue too” You felt your face heat up and your sex grow slicker, admitting those indecent thoughts you only entertained during late nights when your fingers wandered. Alastor gripped your waist tighter, making your rhythm harsher. You looked down on him, his eyes glazed over with euphoria, and felt your mouth pool with saliva.

Digging your nails into the skin of his chest you kept on. “For a whole week I couldn’t keep from slipping my hands between my legs.” Your voice, thick and hoarse. “I wanted to know what you tasted like, if-if your mouth tasted like blood,” that was when he quickened the pace even more. Your sex was so hot and wet, all the way at the base of your spine you could feel your orgasm coming to you, a full-body shiver that made your eyes well with tears. 

The last part was what sent him over the edge though. 

“Sometimes, I’d bite myself so I could taste the blood when I’d touch-” was all it took to make him come. 

Fuck it felt good too. A weak falsetto escaped your mouth when he released, so warm and filling. That’s what made you reach your end too. You clawed your nails in his skin so deep there were two broken half-moons on his chest. Your thighs clenched against his torso, quivering, as you could feel your body become as light and floaty as chiffon. 

Alastor let the both of you ride it out, that sweet joyous bliss. When your mind returned from the heaven it was sent to, you leaned over, resting on top of him. He moved you gently, pressing you closely to his chest. For a while, neither of you spoke, the air lingering with the smell of sweat and blood and sex. You ran your fingers through his hair again; He kissed the back of your hand before speaking. 

“If I’d known all that would come out of making you angry at me, I would’ve earned your ire a long while ago.” You rolled your eyes, flicking his chest playfully. 

“Perhaps we could do this again, without the arguing?” You propose, “You’re quite good at it.” 

A smile stretched across his face as he played with a lock of hair that rested near your face, “Expect nothing less from an overlord of hell cher.” One of his hands slid to your lower back, tracing small circles on that creamy flesh. 

“How about we try one more time without the arguing, for good measure?”

You smirked and kissed him again. All for good measure.

[princessofmarvel]

Nothing to fear

summary | jonathans girlfriend accidentally takes some fear toxin, while finding out that he is the scarecrow (i suck at summaries, lol)

pairing | jonathan crane x innocent!fem!reader!

word count | 1.2k

genre | fluff with some angst!

requested? | yes! thank you so much for this request @kpopgirlbtssvt i had so much fun writing it! 

warnings! | the reader gets drugged, but I think that’s it! Please let me know if there is anything that I am missing! And, this is not really proofread yet, lol

​​author’s note! | my requests are open for these characters! please send in your requests for blurbs, headcanons, or imagines! And as always, I do I have really bad OCD that causes me to write in some random capitalization, and punctuation, But I think that we don't have to worry about that in this fic lol. And let me know if there are any mistakes, but please be kind!

Jonathan has been at work the entire day, irritated and stressed beyond belief. The only thing getting him through it? Knowing that his beautiful girl was home waiting for him. She called him earlier to let him know that she was going to his place after her last class, he insisted that she just rest after, but she kept saying something about a surprise she had planned. He knew there was no talking her out of it, so he decided that it would be better to just look forward to anything she had planned. 

When he met her, he could have sworn she wasn’t real. She had accidentally bumped into him while she was getting her coffee one day, and knocked his coffee to the ground. She immediately started apologizing, and asking what his order was so she could get him a new one. And, no matter how many times he told her it was fine, and to not worry about it (mostly so he could just hurry on to work) she wouldn’t stop. He finally caved and gave her his order, and she immediately ran and ordered him a new one. She gave it to him with an intoxicating smile on her face while still apologizing. After the encounter Jonathan had to dig deep into his mind and make sure he hadn’t just imagined it. Just to make sure, he went back to the same coffee shop the next morning, and saw her sitting there at a table, her pale pink nails tapping away at her computer, while sipping her drink.  As he was about to leave, she looked up at him, and invited him to sit with her. They sat and talked until the coffee shop was closing up. 

Jonathan unlocked his door and walked into his home, while the smell of a freshly cooked meal immediately hit him in the face. He realized what the surprise must have been. She had mentioned last week how she wished they had enough time to spend a proper meal with each other. He had something planned for the weekend, but she must have beat him to it.  As he walked into the kitchen he saw the lights dimmed, candles lit, and the amazing meal set out on the table. The only thing missing? His angel was nowhere to be seen. He suddenly became very aware of his surroundings as he heard small whimpers coming from the bathroom beyond the shut door. 

“Sweetheart?” He called out, as he knocked on the door. When all he got back was a scared whimper he decided that he couldn’t wait for a response, and walked into the bathroom only to be met with a sight that broke his heart. 

His girlfriend trembling in the corner with tears streaming down her face, the nice dress she had on now all wrinkled up. Her once done up hair had now been messed up from what he imagined would have been her fingers pulling at it. She had her head down on her knees while mumbling something to herself that he couldn’t make out. He didn’t understand what was going on until he noticed the now knocked over, and empty bottle of his fear toxin on the sink. 

“Angel?” He said calmly as he bent to her level, slowly taking her face in his hands as he tried to make eye contact with her eyes darting everywhere but at him. 

“J-Johnny? There was a-” She stopped as she started to sob again. He pulled her into his chest and held her until she started to calm down. 

Once she calmed down enough, he helped her into the shower to calm her, and make sure she knew that whatever it was she saw was fake, but what she was feeling was real. After he helped her get dried off, dressed, and wrapped in a blanket on the couch, he brought her a warm cup of tea, and sat opposite of her, waiting for her to talk first. 

“What was that?” She quietly mumbled out, while taking a sip of her tea, staring straight ahead. 

“It was a fear toxin, something I use on patients.” He tells her slowly in fear of her freaking out, but she stays surprisingly calm, while just staring straight ahead, so he continued. “I give it to them so they can face their fears, and see that it is all just in their heads”

“And the mask?” She asked, finally looking at him, her eyes puffy, and red from all the crying she had done. “I saw it in the case, I went to put it away, but when I picked it up, it was unlocked and everything fell out. It’s the mask of that man they show on the news, is that you Jonathan?” 

He stared at her for a minute, trying to figure out how to answer this without her freaking out. “Yes, it’s me, and I completely understand if that makes you want to end this.” 

Saying that to her broke his heart, he wanted her to stay, but he knew that if this was too much for her, he needed to let her leave. She was the only person in this world that he could never even dream of hurting, no matter how much it would hurt him. 

“Jonathan, I’m not completely sure what it is that you do, but I do know that you make me feel safer, and happier than any other man in this city could. I’m not sure that I'm ready to know exactly what it is you do, but I’m not ready for this to end.” She has to him in almost a whisper. 

“Thank you, Sweetheart. I’ll explain everything when you’re ready.” He says while pulling her down to lay on his chest, while wrapping the blanket around them both. As he kisses her head he notices that she has already fallen asleep, probably worn out from the fear toxin. Jonathan eventually falls asleep with her on the couch, with her all wrapped up in his arms. 

The next morning, Jonthan woke up to the smell of fresh coffee and pancakes, and his girlfriend was no longer on his chest. He walks into the kitchen to see her, dancing around the kitchen while fixing breakfast. She jumped a little as he walked up behind her, and wrapped his arms around her. 

  “Shhhh Sweetheart, it’s just me.” He mumbles into her neck, while leaving small kisses. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“I was hungry.” She said to him with a smile, while making them both a plate. 

“Hey Jonathan?” She says while sitting across from him as they ate. “Am I going to get hurt?” she asked him somewhat quietly.

Jonathan made his way to kneel down next to her chair. “Never, that is the last thing that would happen, angel. You have nothing to fear.” He said, looking at her with complete genuineness.  

“Okay” She said to him with a nod, and a smile. Jonathan stood up, and leaned down to give her a quick kiss. As they pulled away smiling, Jonathan picked her up while she gave a small squeal. He smiled down at her only to see that she was smiling back at him as he carried her to his bedroom. While they were smiling at each other, Jonathan knew that this would all end up all right.

[oliversrarebooks]

listen to my Voice, hero

TW: mind control, hypnotic induction, intimate whumper, restraints, corruption

Are your bonds comfortable, Hero? I wouldn't want to cause any damage to your precious muscles and nerves. You are the city's shining hope, after all. Or at least, you have been until now.

Good, now we can have a proper chat. You can just listen carefully to everything I have to say. 

Oh, don't glare at me like that. How many times have we clashed now? And every time you manage to resist my lovely compelling Voice just enough to stop my plans, just enough so that I must escape by the skin of my teeth. You must have known it might come to this eventually, a time when my compulsions are too strong for you to fight, a time when my Voice finally brings you to your knees.

I've been training, dear hero, training especially for you. Training for you, because you're really the only one in this city worth controlling. You're better than all of them. We both know that. And I know how you feel about me, because I've seen the look in your eyes when my compulsions take hold of your pretty little mind.

No, no, be quiet. Be quiet.That's it, there you are. Oh, the delicious expression on your face when I use my Voice on you. I'll never get enough of it.

Most heroes look terrified, you know, to have their thoughts pulled out from under them, to find their body out of their control. Terrified, angry, defiant -- that's how the other heroes look. But you're different. In that moment when I weave my spell on you, when you feel your mind go hazy and your body stop obeying your commands, I see something else in your eyes. I see relief. Deep, unmistakable relief.

No, don't try to deny it. I've tangled with you too many times to be wrong about this. You're relieved when I compel you. You'd never admit it, not even to yourself, but you long for the way it feels. You long to have your choices taken away. You long to not have to make decisions. You long to not have to fight any more.

But every time, you fight. Every time, you break free of my Voice. And I can see the toll it takes on you. That's why I've been training so hard, Hero. So that you couldn't resist my Voice, wouldn't be able to break free. So that I could give you what you want more than anything. 

I've seen you, Hero. I've seen you at your best and at your lowest, haven't I? I understand you better than anyone else in the city. You know it's true. And I can see how exhausted you are. How you've been worked to the bone. How you never get to rest, never get a vacation. I even tried cutting back on my evil schemes in the hopes that you'd take a break, but all you did was pursue other villains twice as hard. 

There are deep bags under your eyes, Hero, marring your beautiful face. There's resignation in your tone that was never there before. I can't stand it, can't stand the way the city treats you. You're destroying yourself to save this ungrateful, useless population and all they do is criticize you. It makes me sick.

And I know what you do once you've defeated me and I escape back to my lair. I know you return to your cold, empty apartment, and curl up on the couch with some convenience food, trying to relax. I know how you toss and turn at night, wondering if you're doing the right thing. I know how lonely you are, Hero. I'm lonely too, you know.

I wish you could see how glassy and dazed your eyes are right now. It's beautiful. Listening to my Voice is so nice, isn't it? Yes, that's it, just relax.

Oh, your hair is so soft. I bet you haven't had a tender touch like this in a while. I saw you lean into it before you caught yourself. Let me run my hand through your hair, there's a good, relaxed hero. Is that a sleepy little smile I see? You like that, don't you?

In fact, you like all of this, don't you? You like having no choice but to relax and listen as my compelling Voice weaves a spell around you. You like the feeling as I slowly hypnotize your vulnerable mind, how your resistance slips away little by little. You've thought about this on those lonely nights, haven't you? What it would feel like if I won. What it would feel like to succumb to my hypnotic compulsions. What it would feel like if you stopped fighting and let me take charge of your mind completely.

Oh, don't struggle. Don't struggle. Relax.There it is again, that relief. My Voice feels good, doesn't it? It feels so good to have the fight taken out of you. Don't deny it, it's written all over your face.

You don't need to pretend you haven't thought about it. You somehow manage to always be the first hero on the scene whenever I try anything. Almost as if you're willing to drop anything to see me, isn't it?

But you were scared. I'm a villain, after all. I don't deny it. You must think I might hurt or humiliate you. Well, you can put all of your fears to rest, because I have no intention of that. I respect you far too much. I'm going to take good care of you, Hero. I'm going to give you the treatment you deserve. I'm going to help you relax. I'm going to take all your worries away.  It's going to feel amazing, Hero, I promise.

I'm sorry, were you trying to say something just now? Still trying to fight it? You'll have to speak up, it's too hard to hear you when you're so out of it.

"It's wrong"? Is that what you said, Hero?

No, what's wrong is how little reward you get for everything you do. That's why I had to do this, had to train my Voice to be strong enough to be irresistible even to you. Now I can reward you. I can give you everything you want, everything you need, beginning with the beautiful, relaxing oblivion of total and complete obedience.

You'll get other rewards, too, of course you will. Together we'll share in the riches of the city, bend everyone in power to our wills. It's what we both deserve. But this is your first and most important reward -- obedience. Nothing is more calm, relaxing, and peaceful than knowing you have no choice, than having every decision made for you.

And all you have to do is listen. 

I'm too strong for you now, Hero, my Voice too compelling. You're almost entirely under my spell, aren't you? I can see how drowsy you are, how my compulsions are putting your conscious mind to sleep.

Yes, that's it. You're too exhausted, Hero. Too tired. Too many nights with too little sleep. You need to rest. You need to stop fighting. You need to surrender.

No one will think any less of you. They'll see how powerful I've become, how easily I can command even the strongest and smartest. They'll realize you had no choice, that it was out of your hands. You won't need to feel guilt or shame. Everyone will know this wasn't your fault, that there was nothing you could do to prevent yourself falling under my villainous control. 

And the fact that you actually enjoy this, the fact that you long to give in so badly and fall under my hypnotic trance? That can be our little secret, Hero.

There we go. That's it, just a little more. Look into my eyes. Look nice and deep into my eyes while I stroke your hair and talk you down softly. Just like you've always dreamed of. No more fear, no more pain. Only sweet restful sleep and deep hypnotic trance. 

That's it, Hero. It's too late. You're too tired, too drowsy, too captured in my Voice to fight it. There's nothing to do. Nothing you have to do. Just feel yourself growing oh so dazed and sleepy as I weave my Voice around you. So comforting. So right. Exactly what you wanted. Exactly what you needed. Exactly where you belong. 

Tell me, Hero, tell me you want this.

That's it, that's it! Oh, how I've longed to hear those words from you. Tell me how my Voice makes you feel. Be honest.

Oh. Oh, my. That's... that's even better than I expected. Far, far better. You love my Voice that much? Oh, Hero, dear Hero, why didn't you say so before? You could have had this any time. I would have been more than happy to bring you to my lair and give you the hypnosis you deserve. You could have been listening to my Voice all day.

Well, it doesn't matter now, because now you can have my Voice all you want, stronger than it's ever been. Isn't that nice? Oh, look at you bob your drowsy head. I don't even need to compel agreement out of you. You're so deeply hypnotized, aren't you? Good, good. Good hero. 

My hero.

Now, why don't you go all the way under? Just keep listening and let your eyelids grow oh so heavy. Let those heavy eyes close. Don't open them again. That's a good hero. So obedient and docile. You're so, so beautiful to me, my drowsy, docile hero. 

Yes, docile. That's what you are, deep down inside. All your strength, all your determination to do the right thing, all of that is a mask that conceals who you really are. A docile and obedient little lamb. And no one needs to know that but me. I'll fulfill your deep craving to be hypnotized and controlled, and you can still be every bit as strong and determined when you're working under my orders. Doesn't that sound just perfect for you? 

All the way under, now, deep into hypnotic trance. Let your resistance fade, my hero. Let your mind fog. Let your mental defenses fall.

Surrender. Surrender and submit. Submit to me, just like you've always wanted.

You can finally feel that relief. You can finally take that rest. Because I have you now. You're mine. I'm in complete control now, my docile little hero. 

And I order you to feel nothing but bliss.

Masterlist

If you like this, you may like "the defiant princess" for more gentle, slow induction on a resisting subject.

[wriothesleybear]

Looking at Gallagher's character art, you can see a bouquet of roses on the floor and petals scattered on the bar top surface. It be giving me thoughts about Gallagher bringing you flowers just because he likes to spoil you and he's a old fashioned romantic. He surprises you every now and then just to do something special. There's two ways this can end. One way is you smother him with kisses which turns into a long, passionate make out session. The second way is you show your thanks for the flowers by riding him on the bar counter. Here's a little drabble~ warnings: suggestive, MDNI!

Polishing the bottles of alcohol behind the bar, you hear the door to the bar open, a bell jingling as well. Without turning around, you greet the unknown customer and tell them to give you a second before you serve them. While distracted by cleaning, you don't hear the sound of footsteps moving towards the back of the bar where you are. Your concentration is broken when you feel a strong arm wrap around your waist, bringing you close, your back meeting a solid chest. The person holding you nestles his face into your neck, their stubble lightly scratching your skin.

Your face breaks into a smile and you giggle once you recognize who the person is. "Well, this is a nice surprise." You say as you reach your hand up to run your fingers through his hair. He gives a tired grumble in reply. You loosen his hold and turn around in his arm to face him. Cupping his face, you bring his face down to yours, pulling him into a short, sweet kiss. Once you break away, he doesn't give you time as he quickly brings you into another kiss. This one full of passion that it takes your breath away. He finally breaks the kiss, letting you breath. "Geez, what was that for?"

"Just wanted to give my lady a proper kiss."

"Well then, how about giving your lady a few more?" You lean up to kiss him again, but he stops you by putting a finger to your lips. You give him a confused look as he grins. Removing his hand from behind his back, he holds a bouquet of roses in his hand. Surprise is written on your features. Smiling, you look up at him. "What's the occasion?"

"No occasion. Just wanted to give my beautiful doll flowers to show my feelings for you."

Taking the bouquet, you smell the beautiful roses and bask in their fragrance. The smile that graces your features as you soak in Gallagher's sweet gesture was what he wanted all along. He wouldn't mind taking a picture of your soft expression to keep in his pocket to look at when he's away from you, busy with work. "Thank you Gallagher. They're beautiful." The view of you as you gaze at him with such a soft and loving look makes his heart skip a beat. He can't help himself from putting his hand behind your head to pull your lips to his, meeting once again for a kiss. But this one lasts longer than the previous ones. The bouquet falls from your hands as you get too caught up into the kiss. Wanting your hands to wrap around Gallagher instead as you feverishly taste one another.

His hands move down your hips, to the back of your thighs to pick you up. You wrap your legs around his hips as your arms stay locked around his neck, not once breaking the heated kiss. He sets you down on top of the counter, elevating you a couple inches taller than him. His lips move down to your neck, leaving marks along your skin. "Gall~" You moan his nickname as you pull on his locks, enjoying the feel of his lips on the sensitive spots on your neck. His hand goes under your shirt, exploring the skin of your belly, and moving up to cup your breast. The slight squeeze from his big hand on your breast sending shivers down your spine.

"Gall. I want to ride you. Get on the bar." He breaks away from your neck, looking up at you. "Well, someone's eager to return the favor." He teases. Running your hand down his chest and stomach to his belt buckle, you slightly tug on it to indicate your desire. "Just want to show my appreciation to my darling boyfriend by riding him on this counter until he's exhausted." His eyes widen a bit but it's soon replaced with a smirk and chuckle. "Well then, how could I deny that offer."

~a/n: I'll probably write a part 2 to this or something else regarding bar sex. Also, idk if Gall sounds like a good nickname for him or if it sounds weird.

[jimblejamblewritings]

love letters and second sons | part 4.

Summary: The princess is finally ready to debut in society. But before she does, she decides to disguise herself and see the true faces of the ton.

Warnings for the Series: light sexism in line with the times, light classism in line with the times, mental health stigma, shitty doctor care, smut, suicide attempt (will get it's own warning when the time comes)

Warnings for this part: smut

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x princess!reader

Word Count: 4.7k

Previous Part | Series Masterlist

The cloak wrapped around you felt like velvet. The softness between your fingers calmed you down significantly. Reynolds grabbed your hand after the fifth time you balled it up in your skirts. You looked up to see your three valets trying to hide the concern on their faces. You could have an incident or get caught or both. None of those three options were ideal or even good. 

“Do I look decent?” you asked as the carriage got closer and closer to the party. 

“You look perfect.” 

“Maybe I shouldn’t wear the mask?” 

“You don’t have to but keep it on you.” 

You agreed, exiting the carriage with a letter from the princess version of you — complete with a wax seal — that was basically a pass to enter any establishment no matter what. Spotting Penelope and Colin out of the corner of your eye, you breathed out a sigh of relief and ran over to them. Both of them wore wide smiles at your surprise arrival. They had been expecting a letter or something to signal your arrival back from Ireland. 

You were sad to hear about Marina not joining you all for this evening. It would have been nice to know her more than a little bit in between the courting of suitors. But there would be more times to meet and catch up later. Plus, hearing your friends’ stories of their daily lives proved to be a good enough distraction. You let them go after a while so Colin could escort Penelope to the dance floor like he promised to do after a run in with Cressida Cowper. 

Looking around, you failed to immediately locate the rest of the Bridgerton children. You grabbed a drink from the lemonade table and began to wander. The alcohol had looked appealing but you had never drank, afraid of the consequences if drink mixed with your illness. Someday you’d try some but not after an episode. Never right after one. 

On the outskirts of the party, still close enough to hear the music, you ran into Benedict. He gave you a smile and the same surprised look on his face as Penelope and Colin. You leaned in closer to hear him over the deafening melodies of the orchestra. Small talk that was mainly about your fictitious trip made up the first half of your conversation. After a while, you grew comfortable with each other as if you never left. 

“The lights are beautiful,” he commented, staring at the small lantern display that a scientist presented. 

You nodded. “We have some at the palace. They add more day by day but it would be nice if all of London, maybe all of the world, had these little lights. How has your art been?” 

“Not terribly well. Nothing seems to be good enough.” 

“Well, what are you drawing?” 

“Still life. I can’t expect my free drawings to be good if I can’t depict what is right in front of me.” 

“You are too hard on yourself, Benedict seriously,” you argued when he scoffed. “Sometimes we have a problem seeing our own greatness. You ju—” 

“Would you ever consider marriage to someone, me, perhaps?” 

You choked on your lemonade. “Pardon?” 

“Apologies.” He finally turned to look at you. “With Daphne out in society, people have started looking at Anthony and because my dear brother does not care to at least pretend to be a proper viscount, they have started to look at me. Ravenous mamas are eyeing me and it must be a matter of time before they talk to me.” 

You laughed. “You still call me Miss Keaton yet you want me to help you through a marriage?” 

“Wait, what is your name, actually? If you are to continue being a friend of the family then I am at liberty to refer to you by first name.” 

“Bergamot. My parents were a bit too keen on gardens.” 

“That is a lovely name.” 

“Thank you… I still won’t marry you.”

Benedict scrunched up his face as he bent over to try and plead with you. “Please! I can’t be out here with the wolves.” 

You patted him on the shoulder. “Your whining, no matter how pathetic and cute, will not work. I will see you tomorrow, alright.” 

He muttered something that you didn’t hear while you took off into the gardens for a stroll. You’d have to leave soon, pressing your luck wasn’t the way to go. You put your cloak back on and closed it to hide your dress completely as you finally put your mask on. The gardens at night were very beautiful. Perhaps because you were alone. 

You chuckled at the thought of your interaction with Benedict. Even if it happened only a few moments ago, it was hysterical. It was only funnier because you were sure that when you finally introduced yourself to society, you’d get even stranger proposals. Only they wouldn’t be to avoid hungry mamas. And they wouldn’t be coming from one of your friends. 

Hopefully, they wouldn’t be too upset with you. Hyacinth would never but she was more like a little sister than a friend. Benedict would think the whole situation is funny, hopefully. Daphne might as well. Eloise and Penelope could go either way. Anthony would probably be mad that you let him attempt to woo the princess when you knew the truth which would make Colin and Gregory and Francesca mad at you as well. But maybe it would be fine after you explained everything. 

The sound of voices caught your attention. Spying was wrong but you couldn’t help yourself. You started to walk into the hedges, ignoring the twigs catching everywhere. The view wasn’t the best but you could see well enough. What could be a scandal between Daphne Bridgerton and Nigel Berbrooke seemed to be a very different scene to you because you knew the man from her letters. You tightened the mask around you just in case you needed to leave the bushes. 

Nigel kept coming close to Daphne. You began to run when he grabbed her, thinking of how to protect your friend. You’d have to hit him. That was the only option. There was nothing else you could do about it… You paused as Daphne pulled her hand back. There was Nigel Berbrooke on the ground. After being punched. 

You and Daphne looked up from Nigel to see the Duke of Hastings running into the garden clearing as well. The two of them seemed to realize that you were the princess and you were in the garden with them having witnessed everything. They bowed to you deeply, something you returned. 

“I will survey the area. If I do not return then you two may safely leave the garden.” 

“Thank you, Your Highness.” 

“It is no trouble really. I am so sorry for your distress, Miss Bridgerton, and I do hope your hand feels better in the morning.”  

You did a thorough check of the area to make sure that Daphne wasn’t compromised before fleeing to your carriage before anyone could spot the mask. Assuring your valets nothing went wrong, you closed the carriage door and let it drive back to Kew. 

“Thank you,” you said as you took off your mask and cloak and opened the carriage window since it was night. 

“For what?” 

“For making me go out tonight. I did need it. I feel better, immensely.” 

“That is good. We are glad to hear it. Will you be going out again tomorrow?” 

“Just to the Bridgertons.” 

“Oh, to home then.” 

You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue because they were right. Being at the Bridgertons felt like home more than your own at times. Maybe because your mother and father were the only ones who even tried to be a proper family. But there was no trying with the Bridgertons. They just were family. 

That much was true when you walked into the house a lot later than the early morning to see everyone but Eloise in the drawing room, talking about Daphne and the Duke. You said hello, greeted by hugs from everyone who didn’t see you yesterday. You took the plate of toast from Violet, who was trying to get her daughter to eat, and shoved the bread under Daphne’s nose. She took a bite before actually grabbing it from you. Relieved of your mother bird duties, you plopped down on the couch in between Benedict and Colin. 

“What are your plans for today?” 

“Fencing and then a gentlemen’s club and then preparing for a party tomorrow and, dreadfully, a picnic the next day,” Colin said as he handed you a chocolate from the box on the side table. 

“May I watch?” 

“Of course. A beautiful lady will only encourage us.” 

“Since when did you learn to be a flirt?” 

He just shrugged, sitting back to listen to Daphne play the pianoforte and tease her about the duke. You clapped at the end of her piece and requested a second one that she obliged. Daphne would have to play at the palace some time or at least at Kew. She sounded lovely. Closing your eyes, you just listened for a moment. 

“How does a lady come to be with child?” 

Your eyes flew open to see Eloise standing in front of everyone. Violet jumped up from her brief moment of sitting on the couch across from you. 

“Eloise, what a question!” 

“I thought marriage was a requirement.” 

Daphne tilted her head. “What?” 

“Apparently, it’s not even a requirement.” 

“Eloise.” 

“Mama, the princess did say all young women nearing their debut should learn.” 

Violet stuttered as she took the tray of food out of the room, forcing Hyacinth and Gregory to go with her, stating she’d be back in a moment she just needed some water. She turned back for a moment. 

“Daphne, dear, do go on. I’d like to hear some calming music when we return.” 

Eloise trudged over to the couch, sitting on the other side of Benedict. She smacked her brothers’ knees but neither one of them wanted to answer her directly. Colin turned his head. 

“Have you ever visited a farm, El?” 

You laughed as Benedict smacked the back of Colin’s head but stopped when Eloise slumped down in her seat. You tapped her on the shoulder, making her perk up again. Your hand rested on Benedict’s thigh so you could prop yourself up as you leaned over him.

Covering your mouth and Eloise’s ear, you began whispering to your friend everything you thought she needed to know about sex. Unable to help himself, Benedict leaned in to spy, surprised that your information was actually correct. You weren’t lying, the Princess’ court really taught all the valets everything. Eloise sat back, finally satisfied and a lot less worried about a spontaneous pregnancy. Until she became curious again. 

“But why would anyone want to initiate it? Who wants to be with child?” 

You leaned over once again. “No one wants to be with child. Even those who want children. It’s about the pleasure. Sometimes the pleasure of actually liking someone and other times the pleasure being about nothing but you.” 

“What?” 

“The… think about when you start breathing a bit heavier, feeling warm when you touch each other, a… I’ll tell you the rest when your brothers aren’t here. It is a bit awkward. Oh, I’ll even draw you pictures. Only a certain amount of posit— mov— steps are important. The rest you should figure out with your husband.” 

“So you do truly know what you’re talking about?” Benedict interrupted the nearly finished meeting. 

“Did you doubt me?” 

“A bit,” he admitted. 

You sat back down. “Men aren’t the only ones that know what they are talking about.” 

“Sorry to offend.” 

“No offense. None at all. I expect even the kindest and smartest and prudest of men to think such things.” 

“Well, I am still sorry. If not because of offense then because of my ignorance.”

You squeezed his thigh in appreciation. Benedict laid his hand on top of yours. The two of you stayed like that for a moment until his hand held onto yours a bit tighter. He turned to look at you. There was an understanding shared between your eyes. There was no breathing heavy or loving eyes. It was for both of you but in purely selfish pleasurable ways. 

“Are you coming to watch our fencing match?” Benedict asked.

“Yes.” At that he moved your hand closer to his private. “A bit after the calling hour starts. I like to watch the men make fools of themselves.” 

“I am not surprised by that at all.” 

“Shall we wait for you?” 

You closed the gap and placed your hand over the top of Benedict’s pants. “No. You may start without me and I’ll just come when I find the time.” 

“Okay. We’ll play again soon, maybe even another game today. So don’t be too bothered if you miss us playing for your calling hour.” 

Giving an experimental squeeze, you watched the man next to you nod ever so slightly and swallow his spit before moving your hand himself. You both relaxed into the couch completely, satisfied with your understanding. The two men left when Violet came back — it was fairly obvious that calling hour was about to start. The calling hour was several hours but at some point you had just dropped the s and you weren’t sure why. 

You thought it would be only one or two men but the duke seemed to have lit a fire under the other men’s feet. The line became rather long rather quickly. You were happy for Daphne. The more men the better. Maybe she could get a love match.

You took the last bouquet of flowers for Daphne, thanked Lord Colfield, and went to go put the flowers in a vase on the fireplace mantle. You were about to tell Daphne that you were leaving to see her brothers’ fencing match when Anthony came storming in. A gasp escaped you when Nigel Berbrooke came up behind. You were completely over this little man and his obsession. 

Without thinking, you approached Anthony. “What do you think you ar— Anthony, you and Nigel need to either leave the drawing room as this is your sister’s calling hour or wait in line if he is here to call? These lords and gentlemen have waited a great deal to talk to her and they are very patient. It is not right nor just nor of any class to disrespect the patience they have shown.” 

“Nigel?” Berbrooke scoffed. “Who do think yo—” 

“The Young Princess’ valet. She’s become a family friend,” Anthony cut Nigel off. 

At least Berbrooke had the decency to be surprised and then give you a bow. Their tunes towards you changed completely as they almost looked like they were going to wait their turn or just leave. Nigel smiled. 

“Callers were unexpected as we have already been talking extensively.” 

“Lord Berbrooke is the only man who proposed and therefore the only person I consider.” 

“I’m sorry, what?” You looked at Anthony.

“He is the on—” 

“Everyone! I am very sorry but you must leave. Miss Bridgerton’s calling hour is currently closed. Please leave your name with Heroldt, starting with the order you have been waiting, and two days from now we will continue.” You turned to Anthony as everyone filed out without complaint since they thought the princess was the reason for calling hour being over. “There. Now, Lord Berbrooke, I must speak with the Bridgertons alone. I hope that speech staved off the wolves for you if only for two days while matters are discussed.” 

“Thank you, Lady…” 

“Miss Keaton,” Anthony answered. “Thank you, Bergamot. Lord Berbrooke, do you need me to escort you?” 

“No, no. You have business. I can find the front door on my own.” 

The moment he left, you, Daphne, and Violet descended on Anthony. Every word that came out of Anthony’s mouth made you scoff. Violet looked between all three of you, very upset. Anthony was ruining both Daphne’s prospects as well as his own prospects with the princess. And you were there to witness it all.

You backed Daphne on everything. Even if she was wrong, Nigel was a foul man that you would never allow to marry. You approached Anthony, speaking lowly although your friend and her mother could still hear it. 

“I hope you survive whatever poison you are drinking. Whether the Duke is a serious man or not, there are plenty of serious men here. You will not sign away your sister to such a foul man that you barely know as well and pretend it is in her best interest. And you will not expect her to be understanding or appreciative when you don’t care an ounce for your sister’s happiness. And you still wish to draw up a marriage contract? Please, just think for a moment… Good day, Viscount Bridgerton.” 

You stormed out of the drawing room and straight into the backyard where Colin and Benedict were handing their fencing gear back to a servant. They noticed the furrow in your brow. Benedict clicked his tongue. 

“I will find out what is wrong. You, brother, instruct the kitchen to leave something out for us. If there is crying then we will be long.” 

Benedict practically dragged you to the far side of the backyard. He knew no one would think anything of it when you were very angry about something Anthony did — that part was loud enough for everyone to hear. He looked at you when the two of you finally stopped. 

“Was that a ploy to get away? Or are you genuinely mad at my brother?” 

“I don’t want to talk about why I’m mad at Anthony. There’s nothing you can do anyway. Not without a good scandal… Sorry, I came out here for a fencing match. Let us focus on it. On you.” 

He took your hand again, placing it over his trousers. You began to rub it back and forth, the fabric between you guys creating friction. You reached into his pants and pulled out his cock, stroking it a bit more freely. Benedict pulled you closer. His hand reached around your ass to squeeze it.

Every time you stroked him closer to finishing he would squeeze harder than before. You watched his face the entire time. If you got back exactly what you were giving him then you would be a very happy woman. It was truly going to be about selfish pleasure for both of you. 

You gasped when he all but ripped the top part of the dress as he tried to push it all down to expose your breasts. He wanted something else to stare at that would get him off even quicker. You tried to stifle any moans threatening to escape your lips as he groped you — some of the marks so hard you were sure they would be a bit red until tomorrow. This was his turn. Yours would be later. If you both tried to get pleasure at the same time... Well, that's how people fall in love. The two of you weren't stupid to test that.

Benedict moaned and for a moment both of you were worried someone would come see what was the matter. He laughed underneath your hand covering his mouth. 

A shudder went through him and he grabbed your wrist. “I’m going to come. I-if you let g-go… just in m-my britches.” 

You dropped to your knees, shocking your friend. He grabbed your head with one hand while he bit down on the other until he finished. A very gentle touch lifted you up. He wiped stray bits of lipstick from around your mouth, wiping the evidence away on the inside of his vest. 

“I have to say I did not expect you to sit down for the last round of fencing. We were done anyway.” 

“Well, I wanted to help put up the equipment so we could all relax later. Plus, if the princess does choose to invite you all to Kew then I would like you to help put up the equipment there too.” 

Benedict laughed. 

“I promise whether I win or lose. The next time we have a round of fencing, I will put up the equipment. All of it.”

He leaned down to whisper.

“Even if you are not a lover, I would never have you on the ground, sullying your pretty gowns and body..." He squeezed your breasts one last time before helping pull your dress back up. "with grass and dirt stains. I promise I’ll bring you your pleasure next time we are inside and alone. I will leave first and retire to my room. You stay out here and eat the sandwiches the cook left. I won’t be able to return for at least an hour.” 

“Okay. I have to go see the Featheringtons and Miss Thompson anyway.” 

You did just as Benedict suggested and no one even gave you a suspicious look. You took your own sweet time going across the street. You had moved the physician and all of Wednesdays special tutors to Tuesdays so you would have more time in the city. Despite not wanting any visitors, you were the obvious exception and could go upstairs to see Marina. She looked up from her writing desk when Penelope announced she was coming with a visitor. 

The three of you gathered on the bed to share a plate of sweets. You mainly listened to Marina and Penelope, not having much to add. You wanted to figure out a way to help her. Trying to meddle in daily affairs and save the lives of one subject at a time seemed almost ridiculous. But, that was what you should do as a royal. 

“Did you say Spain?” 

“Yes. That’s where all of George’s letters are coming from at the moment. They all say Spain.”

“If you ever need a letter to Spain or to anywhere else they send Sir George, just let me know. The princess wants to help her subjects, especially women, so give me a letter and I’ll give it to her. Whenever you need.” 

Marina flung herself at you. “Thank you. If there shall ever be a problem, I promise I will say such.” 

“Oh, the princess is going back to the palace for a few weeks because of something important so I won’t be so available for a little bit.” 

“What will she be there for?” 

“You will find out when it happens.” 

The two of them giggled. “You are so mysterious.” 

~~

You were tired after an exhausting day but a letter you received from a footman that same day made you get up. Anthony had given you a key to the front and back garden gates as well as the back door that led into the kitchen. You entered through the backyard so you could actually get inside the house without waking the entire house with your knocking. You only needed Violet and Daphne. And you had a letter to leave just in case you couldn’t wake a single person. 

Voices made you pause. You recognized Eloise and Benedict talking. Instead of going any further, you just listened. Eloise — like so many other women — wanted better for herself. It had never been a question of something you would plead to your brother… You sighed. You knew your brother. It was time to stop thinking of him as the heir. There was a reason everyone was going to support Younger Charlotte’s claim over her father. And Young Charlotte listened to you. She planned on making you her advisor. There would be no pleading. You would make better laws for women. 

You didn’t want to disturb them too much so you flung the letter at Benedict’s head. Running as fast as you could, you ignored their confused calling out for you once they recognized the letter coming from the princess. Hopefully, Benedict or Eloise would get the letter to their mother before Nigel could come back. 

Dear Dowager Viscountess, 

I am nothing but my mother’s daughter and therefore it is, in fact, my job to meddle in the lives of our precious subjects for a better and more peaceful United Kingdom. Miss Keaton has told me much of your troubles in regards to a man called Lord Nigel Berbrooke. I don’t have much information on him but I do have a request that I would ask you to aid your princess in. 

I recall an acquaintance of his. A maid. She used to work at the palace but asked for a job in the ton so she could be closer to her aging parents. I believe she was employed by a neighbor of the Berbrookes? Or a friend? Or maybe them, who knows. She was supposed to come back two years after they died but has yet to return. Nigel or one of his neighbors must know. Or perhaps, his mother, she’s very close to the maids. Knows every single one of them by name. I care terribly for this maid and would like her working back at the palace.  

Please meet with his mother. She loves crumpets with any sort of preserves or a chocolate dipping sauce. It was all she wanted when she requested a meeting with my second brother. 

That is all I have to say. I do look forward to seeing your family properly. 

Yours Truly, 

Princess Y/N Kew 

P.S. Please tell Anthony that it took him long enough but I am proud he finally came to his senses. If only he can learn to listen to a woman first then he might have less problems.

You smiled to yourself as you sat in the kitchens. The staff couldn’t stop talking about Nigel Berbrooke’s bastard that he doesn’t take care of and the mother he sent away before she even gave birth. You would feel bad but you had a very personal and up-close view of the man’s real personality. The morning only got better when Brimsley and Reynolds came in with Lady Whistledown’s Society Papers. It was on the front page of the pamphlets. Absolutely worth paying the two pounds per pamphlet for everyone in the Kew household. 

“Do you think he’ll ever show his face again?” 

“No,” the cook said as she handed you your breakfast. “You did a good thing for Miss Bridgerton, Your Grace.” 

“Your Grace?” 

“It is just a title we are trying out.” 

You hummed suspiciously. The cook ignored you. 

“You better pack if you don’t want to be late for the carriage coming today.” 

You nearly forgot. The reason you couldn’t hang out with the Featheringtons and the Bridgertons arrived. Your cousin Friedrich, the prince of Prussia, was coming for a visit. He agreed to marry a British girl to strengthen the alliances and prove that Prussia and Britain were still close family. It was neither a complete truth or a complete lie. The entire family was not close. But you, your cousin, your father, your mother, and your aunt were very close. 

Sneaking out wasn’t an option. You thought that much as the carriage neared Buckingham. It had been a while since you snuck out the palace — a completely different thing from simply leaving Kew. Pandora, Brimsley, or Reynolds would sneak you your letters and you would be satisfied. Besides, even though your family was coming for an indefinite amount of time, you only had to stay a week or to. 

The carriage hadn’t even stopped completely before you ran to hug your cousin. It had been years since you last saw each other. You could hear your mothers laughing in the background. They left to have tea inside while the two of you stayed out. 

Friedrich took your hand in the crook of his arm. “Come, cousin, let us take a promenade. Have you been well?” 

“I have been better. However, I am doing well.” 

“And your illness?” 

“Not better. But I haven’t had an episode that I couldn't recover from on my own.” 

“That is good. I suppose that is the best we can ask for. Especially since I have a surprise for you.” 

“A surprise?” 

“I asked Aunt Charlotte and she agreed to let the princess accompany me to events as she knows the ton better than the both of us. You have to wear your mask but it is still a good deal.” 

“It is a wonderful deal.”

“Good. The first event is a ball tonight.” 

“Tonight?! But I’m not prepared.” 

“I’ve already had everything arranged.” 

“You planned this?” 

“I figured it would do you good to get some fresh air and get out of the palace… or Kew, now.” 

“Thank you, Friedrich. Seriously, thank you.”

(part 5)

THIS FIC TAGLIST:

@fredsbetch @cherrylovers-world @chrystinaamanda @grassclippers @flyestvenustrap @spookystitchery @lovelyygirl8 @ben-has-arrived @tragically-hipp @cherrysxuya @alowint @jackierose902109 @boojaynaqueen @thesparkling-diamond27 @intothesoul

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[pigaletta]

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[roosterforme]

The Adventures of Dr. Tits | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: Jake gives you the world's most obnoxious nickname. Bradley has an identity crisis. And you're the one making sure everybody gets home safely on New Year's Eve.

Warnings: Fluff, swearing, suggestive language, drinking, beer pong

Length: 2800 words

Pairing: Beer Boy and Sugar! Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (former fuckboy college student Bradley)

This is a one-shot to accompany my fics Old Habits Die Hard and Right Girl, Wrong Time! Banner by @mak-32 Check out my masterlist for the reading order

Bradley walked into the bedroom and froze as you were putting on your favorite pair of earrings. "What's wrong?" you asked, shaking your head at him. "Why are you staring at me like that?"

"You look fucking hot."

"Oh," you said with a smirk.

"This is a new dress," he rasped, running his fingers along the black fabric at your shoulder. "I really like it."

You kissed his cheek and whispered. "I knew you would, Beer Boy. It has a very low neckline."

He scoffed, "That's not the only reason I like it." But his eyes hadn't strayed from your chest for nearly thirty seconds. When his gaze finally met yours, he added, "My wife looks beautiful in everything."

"We're not married yet," you reminded him as his hand skimmed down your arm to your left hand and your engagement ring. 

"Only because you didn't want to get married the day after I proposed."

"We were standing in a Denny's parking lot!"

He just shrugged and laced his fingers with yours. "Sounds perfect to me. As long as it's us."

"A Denny's parking lot," you emphasized, and you could tell he was trying not to smile at your look of indignation.

"Nothing's too good for my girl," he replied, barely concealing his laughter. 

"Incredible," you muttered as you tugged him closer for another kiss. "You can take the Beer Boy out of the fraternity..."

He followed along, fingers linked with yours, as you led him into the dining room so you could finish setting up. "Wait, wait, it's like mistletoe. We have to kiss when we stand here," he said, leaning down to kiss you hard and proper in front of the doors that said SUGAR WILL YOU MARRY ME?

"Like mistletoe? I can't believe how sweet you are," you whispered as his lips trailed down to your neck.

"Let's call everyone and cancel." His tone was coaxing and his lips felt amazing.

"No," you moaned softly. "It's your Top Gun holiday party. And it's New Year's Eve."

When his mustache grazed the top of your chest as he said, "I'd rather tell everyone else to beat it so I can fuck my fiancée," you almost caved. But you promised everyone months ago, when you first moved to San Diego, that you and Bradley would host the annual party. There was a running joke that they got so wild one year, they almost got kicked out of a restaurant. But there was no way that was true. 

"We have to host. I promised."

"This better be low key. Seriously, I just want a nice, quiet night in," he grumbled.

You laughed while he acted like he was being tortured as he helped you carry the pretty punch bowl and crystal glasses you found at a thrift store into the dining room. "Everyone will be gone right after the stroke of midnight," you promised him. "And I thought you liked your coworkers?" 

He grunted and shrugged. "No, I like Nat. Bob's okay. Jake's annoying. The rest of the guys are fine."

"Oh my god," you whispered in awe, wrapping him up in a hug. "You love me the most, and I'm the only person you're not cranky for, Beer Boy." 

He chuckled and pressed his lips to your temple. "You're just catching onto this now? Ten years away from you has made it so that I want to be with you all the time."

Okay, well now you were thinking about canceling after all. If he was going to be extra sweet like this, you wanted him all to yourself as well. But then you heard someone knocking on the front door. Before you let Bradley go, you said, "If you're well behaved tonight, we can talk about wedding plans tomorrow."

He perked right up. "I'll be so good."

"But it's still a firm no to the Denny's parking lot." 

When you let Nat inside, she gave you a hug and said, "Hey, nice tits," before carrying a bottle of champagne to Bradley. At least now he had his friend to talk to. And you really didn't think your dress was that low cut...

After another knock, you let Bob in, and as soon as he looked at you, he was blushing profusely and stuttering. "Welcome, Bob," you said, really starting to regret wearing this dress in front of anyone except Bradley. When you leaned out onto the porth, the neighborhood was all lit up with twinkle lights. This was your first December outside of Virginia or Chicago, and it was still fairly warm outside. As you propped the door open for the others, you didn't think you'd ever get used to this kind of luxury. You had warm weather and the love of your life.

Soon Javy, Mickey and Reuben arrived with three identical smiles as they looked at you and gave you lingering hugs. "Okay, yep, that's enough," you said as Mickey squeezed you extra tight.

"Hey, Baby! Sugar!" Bradley was calling from the kitchen as you followed the guys in. "Oh, there you are. Do we have any solo cups and ping pong balls? And didn't I buy a case of PBR?"

You just looked at him like he'd lost it. It was New Year's Eve, and you were in your new dress. You even made sure he actually looked nice tonight instead of wearing one of his ratty old tee shirts. You had champagne, and he made crab dip and mini quiches to serve everyone. 

"Maybe in the hall closet? And I'm pretty sure I talked you out of the case of Pabst Blue Ribbon," you said with a frown. "That's cheap fraternity beer, Bradley. We have actual incomes now. Only good beers all the time."

"That's okay," he told you with a quick kiss as he headed for the hall closet. "We can just play with the champagne!"

"What?" you asked, ready to follow him, but the guys had turned up the music. When you looked in the dining room Nat was moving your punch bowl to the floor in the corner, and Reuben was carrying four glasses precariously stacked up in each hand. "What's going on?"

"Rooster said he's a beer pong master," Javy said, before shoving three mini quiches into his mouth at one time. 

Reuben was laughing. "He said he used to party at his fraternity house, but we don't believe him. Not Rooster."

"No," Mickey added. "Rooster always follows the rules. Never breaks them. And he never gets drunk."

"We're playing fucking pong," Bradley said when he returned wearing a backwards cap and holding red solo cups and a pack of ping pong balls. Everyone cheered. "They don't believe I'm a ringer, Sugar," he whispered just to you. "I'm about to fucking smoke their asses."

"Don't get too drunk," you said as Nat took the solo cups and squatted down to fill them using the punch you made with extremely expensive champagne. "Oh god."

"Happy New Year," drawled a voice behind you, and you spun to see Jake holding two more bottles of champagne. His gaze dipped quickly down to your cleavage before returning innocently to your face. He shook his head and said, "You know, sometimes I think Bradshaw might be onto something here."

"I'm never wearing this dress again," you muttered as he handed you both bottles with a huge grin on his face. 

"Now where's everyone else?"

Just then, loud cheering erupted from the dining room, and you walked through the doorway to find Bradley and Javy playing against Bob and Mickey. Nat changed your playlist to one that sounded like it belonged at an actual frat party, and Reuben was scooping one of your crystal glasses into the crab dip and eating it with a spoon. 

"What the fuck?" you gasped. It was like you were back at the Beta Gamma house ten years ago as Bradley took his nice shirt off and tossed it onto the doorknob of the door that said MARRY.

"I'm about to kick your ass, and the dining room table isn't even regulation size," Bradley told Mickey as the WSO missed a shot. "Sugar, we need to look for a table that's regulation dimensions, okay Baby?" he shouted over P.I.M.P. by 50 Cent. He just kept sinking shot after shot into the cups, and Bob was already looking drunk.

So maybe they all really did almost get kicked out of that restaurant before? 

Jake was unbuttoning his shirt as well now as he said, "I have next game. There's no way Bradshaw can get this lucky all night long."

Bradley smirked and laughed as he looked at you. "I can, and I do, Hangman. Don't act like you haven't seen Sugar before."

Jake laughed, and the other guys cheered. You cradled your forehead in your hands as Bradley wolf whistled at you. "Jesus," you muttered, trying to decide if it was a good idea for you to get drunk yourself or if you needed to babysit the whole group.

"Why isn't your wife playing with you?" Nat shouted, and you contemplated closing the front door before your neighbors complained about the noise.

"We're not married yet!" you replied, but Bradley had his arms wrapped around you immediately. 

"Sorry, Baby. I got excited and just grabbed Javy. You know what they say about old habits, and I haven't played beer bong in years. You're my partner next, okay? Your boobs will help distract the opponents."

You gave in and started laughing, because this whole thing was ridiculous. You let Reuben serve you some crab dip in a crystal glass, and you ate it while everyone around you got progressively drunker on your champagne punch. 

Once Bradley and Javy handily won the matchup, he kicked Javy to the other side of the table to team up with Jake who was now completely shirtless. "You're up, Baby," Bradley said, reaching for you with so much excitement. "We're going to kick ass like we used to." His lips tasted faintly of champagne when he kissed you, and you were surprised. He was so good at this game, he rarely had to drink anything. 

"Winning team goes first," Jake said, rolling the balls across the table to you as Nat set freshly filled cups in front of you. Bradley arranged the cups perfectly like this was actually his profession instead of aviation. And you just stood there and laughed as he stepped behind you and helped you square your hips.

"Okay, now, you need to be awesome, Sugar. Just like college. Because I've got like street cred on the line here."

"I got you, Beer Boy," you promised him and he moaned softly in your ear.

"Remember, it's all just a math problem, and you're so fucking good at math." He released you with a little pat on your butt, and then he was peeling his sweaty undershirt off and tossing it aside before fixing his hat. As soon as you were able to stop laughing, you tossed the first ball with a perfect arc, and everyone in the room watched it splash into the solo cup right in front of Jake while Bradley whooped. 

"What did they teach you people in Virginia?" Jake asked, looking at you like he was thoroughly impressed. And then you watched Bradley toss his ball into one of the cups, and Javy groaned as he and Jake picked up their cups and drank. 

"Roll those balls back over here, boys. We made both of our shots, so we go again," Bradley said before he kissed you hard in front of his friends. "Do you have any idea how badly I want to marry you in that Denny's parking lot tomorrow?"

You were laughing as Nat, Reuben, Mickey and Bob all lined up on your side of the table to cheer you on with the crab dip. "Kick their asses! Jake and Javy are good at everything!" Nat shouted over Big Pimpin' by JAY-Z. You did a little dance and then tossed your ball directly into another cup.

"It's just math!" you said with a smile.

"It's math!" Bradley reiterated to Javy and Jake. "And I feel bad for the two of you, because she's a mathematician." Then he made his second toss, too. "And I lived in a fraternity house for three years."

Jake and Javy looked miserable as you chanted, "Chug, chug, chug!" until they emptied their cups. Then you made another absolutely beautiful throw, and Bradley didn't let you down. In fact, the two of you made every single cup, and Javy and Jake didn't even get a chance to throw a single ball.

"House rules! You drink our cups, too!" Bradley informed them, gesturing to the untouched solo cups lined up at your end of the table. 

"Get to it boys," you said as the others cheered. 

Bradley was all over you again as Javy coughed and sputtered as he tried to chug champagne. "I swear to god, Sugar, if we weren't already engaged, I'd propose right now," Bradley told you as you adjusted the cap on his head and ran your fingers through his curls that stuck out from beneath it. 

"I'd say yes again," you whispered just for him. "Who's ready to get their asses kicked next?" you asked everyone. 

You and Bradley cleaned up so handily, the two of you were barely buzzed, but everyone else was hammered by midnight. The front door was still wide open, and the TV was on as you waited for the countdown to the new year. Bradley popped a bottle of champagne just for you and he to sip as Nat sat on the floor right in front of the TV with the punch bowl on her lap. Most of the guys were lined up on the couches, but Jake came right over to you when he stumbled out of the bathroom. 

"I need to know how you did it," he slurred to Bradley as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pointed at your chest. "How did you manage to get Dr. Tits here? She's exquisite."

You sputtered as you laughed. "Did you just call me Dr. Tits?"

Jake leaned in close to your ear and laughed. "I'm sorry, but I can't even remember my own name right now, darlin'."

"Okay, Hangman," Bradley said as he handed you the bottle of champagne and pulled Jake off of you. "Clearly she has a thing for fuckboys. You can look, because she's smoking hot and it would be impossible not to, but you don't get to touch."

Well, you couldn't deny that. Jake winked at you as he sat down next to Nat before laying on the floor. Bob had the hiccups, Javy was asleep, Reuben was still eating the crab dip, and Mickey was running to the bathroom to throw up as the clock struck midnight. "I love you," Bradley promised before he kissed you sweetly. "And I think we should spend the day tomorrow laying on the couch and talking about getting married. What do you say, Dr. Tits?"

You pressed your lips together and then said, "Only Jake is allowed to call me that," as you erupted into laughter at the scandalized look on Bradley's face.

You kissed his cheek as he said, "I swear, just for that, it's Denny's or nothing, Sugar."

"We'll talk about it tomorrow," you replied laughing as you looked at the sloppy mess of Bradley's coworkers on all of your living room surfaces. "Now help me get all of them in Ubers so you can help me out of my dress."

"Oh, hell yes," he replied as he started clapping loudly. "Wake up guys. Rides are coming. Time for you to go so I can get lucky."

The two of you herded everyone outside and into the two cars when they showed up. "Night, Dr. Tits," Jake announced loudly to your entire quiet street as he kissed your cheek before Bradley shoved him into the waiting SUV. 

"Dr. Tits..." Reuben said with a laugh. "Sounds like a superhero who is very good at beer pong."

"She is a superhero. She puts up with Rooster's shit," Nat said as she climbed in behind Jake. 

"I think my sister went to Comic Con as Dr. Tits one year," Mickey said deliriously as Bradley helped him with his seatbelt. "The many adventures of Dr. Tits. She's my favorite Avenger."

Javy was already asleep on Bob as the cars pulled away, and Bradley scooped you up on the driveway and carried you back toward the porch. "You wanna go on an adventure with me, Sugar?"

You took his hat off and put it on your own head. "Are you talking about undressing me or marrying me right now?"

"Both," he replied easily as he kicked the front door closed behind you.

"Then yes."

---------------------------

Beer Boy and Sugar warm my cold, dead heart. Fuckboy Jake, drunk on champagne, also warms my heart. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@chassy21

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[harryslittlefreakk]

it’s just us

(late night talking part 5)

summary: the 4th and final night of wembley, y/n and harry reflect on their week together and think about the future 🥹

warnings: super fluff, smut, bf!rry

a/n: i know these 2 are MY imaginary characters but i quite literally giggled and kicked my feet writing this !! i love these 2 so much 🤭 this will be the final ‘proper’ part but i have lots of extras planned! thank you so much to everyone for enjoying this series with me 🥹

you can join my taglist here! and find my masterlist here 🫶🏼 happy reading my loves!

part 1 2 3 4

“Hi, sunshine,” Harry smiled down at you as you awoke. His glasses were perched on the end of his nose, a crinkled and yellowed book in his hands. “Sleep ok?” he asked, setting the book down on the nightstand as you scooted over to nuzzle into his chest. “Meh,” you shrugged, draping an arm over his belly. “Miss you while m’sleeping.”

He laughed at this, pressing a kiss into the top of your head. “Mum and Gem are coming over soon, asked if you want to have lunch with us,” he told you. “Really? I won’t be intruding?” you asked him, nibbling at the skin around your fingernail. “No baby, never.”

“You already missed a whole day with them yesterday, H,” you told him as he tangled his fingers in yours, pulling you into his lap. “Missed it for you, and missed a whole day with you too,” he said, wrapping his arms tight around you. “Just want to enjoy all my girls together, f’you’ll let me.”

“I’ll allow it,” you smiled. “M’a bit nervous though,” you confessed, suddenly frozen with the fear of meeting his closest family. Harry pressed a soft kiss to your lips, pulling one of his arms from around your body to brush stray hairs out of your face. “Don’t need to be nervous darling, they’ll love you.”

You slid off his lap suddenly, rushing to into your wardrobe. “Harry,” you groaned. “I only have one nice outfit and it might be a bit much.” You’d packed with one intention - go to the show, go home, sleep, repeat. You’d bought one fancy dress to wear for dinner with Joanie tomorrow night, your show outfits, and pyjamas and loungewear for the day time. “Show me,” Harry smirked, sauntering over to where you were rooting through your clothes in a frenzy. You yanked the dress of its hanger, slipping Harry’s stolen t shirt off your body before stepping into the dress.

“You look beautiful,” Harry smiled, arms folded across his chest as you twirled for him. It was one of your favourite dresses, a white midi dress with a deep neckline and light blue beach-themed decals dotted all over. You loved the way it looked against your tanned skin in the summer, the way the elastic waist cinched you in. It was simple, but made you feel incredible. “It’s not too much?” you asked Harry, smoothing the front of the skirt with your hands. “No, it’s perfect,” he told you, tapping on his pouted lips to tell you he wanted a kiss.

You padded over to him, peppering kisses all over his face before planting one firmly on his lips and slipping back out of the dress. “Now this is even better,” Harry smirked, stepping forward to land a blow on your ass cheek as you bent to pick up the dress. His strong hands grabbed a hold of your waist before you managed to pick the piece of clothing up, flinging you over his shoulder and marching back towards the bed as you shrieked and kicked. “It’s gonna get creased,” you half-yelled, words almost incoherent through your laughter. “I’ll iron it,” Harry replied, dropping you down onto the bed before climbing over you. He kissed all over your body, holding your arms down as you tried to push him away. The beginnings of stubble tickled you from head to toe, snorting and squealing as you writhed under him.

He stopped suddenly, pausing to gaze over you like an animal planning its attack. Harry moved back towards your face, lingering before you wrapped an arm around his neck and pulled him closer. Your noses nudged over each other’s, smiles mirrored on your faces. He kissed you deeply, pulling your thong to the side and sweeping a finger through your folds with his free hand. He always kissed you like every time could be your last, like he never knew how much of your lips life would offer him so he had to savour every moment. It was impossible not to fall in love with him - the way he gave you everything you needed, romantically and sexually, too much to resist.

His thumb rubbed on your clit as his mouth grazed over your cheek, lips dragging slightly before he nibbled at your earlobe. Harry was definitely more sexually experienced than you, evident not just from his skill, but the way that he anticipated what you needed even before you realised. The tiny nip of his teeth sent your back arching, the pain giving you just the edge you needed. “You’re so beautiful,” Harry cooed, his voice delicate against your ear as he rubbed faster at your button. He slid two fingers into you, thumb still rubbing persistent circles against your clit. He found your g-spot almost immediately, knowing your body like the back of his hand by now. “Fuck, Harry, I’m gonna c-” you moaned, hips pressing deeper into the bed as your body tensed. You were cut off by a loud cry tumbling past your lips, thighs clamping around his hand as you came. Harry finally pulled away as you came down from your high, kissing you deeply before padding back to the bathroom, satisfied with his attack.

—

Though he’d wanted to take you all somewhere nice, Harry had settled on ordering food in and enjoying the sun on his hotel room’s balcony, not wanting to risk being spotted with you again so soon, especially before anybody else knew. You were helping him to tidy up his room now, desperate to do something to combat the ball of nerves in your stomach. “Relax, baby,” he told you, pulling you in for a hug. “I can’t, Harry. You only get one chance at a first impression and I’m so nervous about messing up.”

“Did you mess up the first time you met me?”

“No, but I was awkward. And shy. An-“

“And nothin’. You were adorable, even though you w’nervous around me. Now look at us,” he said. “If it gets too much or you need any help just squeeze my leg or something, okay pet?” You nodded, feeling somewhat calmer. You knew Harry could be shy too, and he knew exactly how you were feeling right now. It wasn’t long before the door knocked and Harry pressed a quick kiss to your cheek before opening it, Anne pulling him into a hug as soon as she saw him. “Hi, my darling,” she cooed, eyes crinkling as she looked him up and down. He looked especially adorable today, wearing wide legged jeans with (as he’d told you many times that morning) his favourite brown duck cardigan, a tight fitted white t shirt underneath. You loved his snuggly daytime outfits, and adored what he wore to shows, but seeing him pick out his favourite pieces and the way he styled them was your favourite thing yet.

As soon as she saw you standing meekly behind Harry, Anne almost shoved her son out of the way to take a look at you. He greeted Gemma as she stepped towards you, immediately wrapping you into a warm hug. “You’re beautiful,” she gasped, gripping the tops of your arms as you smiled. “What on earth are you stuck with him for?” Anne laughed, winking at you. “He’s got his perks,” you said. “It’s so lovely to meet you, I hope you don’t mind me being here.”

“Nonsense,” Anne insisted, “we were so excited to meet the girl Harry’s been obsessing over.” He blushed at this, shy smile taking over his face. Gemma pulled you into a hug next, exchanging names and hellos as the four of you walked towards the balcony. Harry wrapped an arm around you as you lingered by the sliding door, calling out to ask if anyone wanted something to drink. “I’ll get them,” he said, fingers dancing against your skin. “You sit, it won’t take a second,” you told him, turning to walk towards the coffee machine.

“You are smitten,” Anne gasped as Harry sat down opposite her, eyes following your every move. He shook his head in his hands, bright smile peeking through his fingers. “I know,” he confessed.

It wasn’t long before conversation turned to the leaked photos, and Anne gave you both a motherly lecture. “It won’t be long until more photos come out. And it won’t just be your face plastered on the front of magazines,” she told you. “I’ve seen first-hand how this information gets about, they will know everything about you, more than you know about yourself sometimes. I don’t want to nag, but if the pair of you are serious then you need to start telling your family and friends before they wake up and see you all over social media.”

“I know,” you sighed, rubbing a hand on Harry’s denim-clad thigh. “I’m just so frightened to be painted as some sort of groupie, like this was my evil little plan all along,” you told her. It was something you hadn’t even spoken to Harry about yet. You knew your friends and family would just be happy for you, but the world wouldn’t see you as someone who just fell in love, you’d be blindly hated by millions of girls. Harry had confided in you a little about the stress that the media creates in a relationship with him, the hatred and vitriol of journalists and ‘fans’ towards any woman he was spotted with. You understood why he wanted to protect this relationship as much as you did, and truthfully you thought he could be even more nervous than you were about going public. “It’s a risk you’ve got to take,” Anne told you. “Besides, within 5 minutes of walking into this room I could see how besotted you are with each other, and you’d have all of us behind you both, sweetheart.” You knew she was right, and your first hurdle would be telling Joanie.

—

Harry had booked a car to take the four of you to Wembley, having promised his mum and Gemma a behind the scenes look at everything going on. It was one of their favourite parts of him touring, he’d told you, seeing the tiny touches of him in his dressing room and stepping out onto the stage, imagining what it was like for him. Even after seeing it so many times, it never got any less incredible. “This is amazing, Harry, I can’t believe you get to do this every day.”

“Joy of my life,” he grinned, watching the three best women in his life looking out across the empty stadium. He picked up the tiny blue polaroid camera that sat in the wings, ready to capture little pictures of his band and his team. “Smile,” he called out. The three of you shuffled into position, arms around each other as you beamed in his direction. Anne insisted on taking a few of you and Harry next, 3 different pictures so you could all hold onto a copy.

“You gonna stick around?” he asked you, pulling you tight against his front. You checked the time on your phone, sighing as your head lulled back onto his shoulder. “I should go, Harry. Want to get a good view for my favourite concert.” He laughed against the top of your head, promising to walk you out once you’d all exchanged goodbyes.

“I’m gonna talk to Joanie tonight,” you told him. Your heart hammered in your chest at the very idea, but you knew how hurt she’d be if she found out via the press. It just seemed so soon, despite the fact that you’d usually tell her everything about who you were seeing, from the second you’d first laid eyes on them. It was all so different with Harry, and you knew it wouldn’t change your friendship with Joanie but it would definitely take over things for a while. “You sure?” Harry asked, fingers dancing across your forearm. You nodded. “Just want to get it out of the way. Feel like you’re my dirty little secret,” laughing through the nerves. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, “you scared?”

“So fucking scared.”

With this, Harry grabbed your arm, pulling you in a complete different direction than where you’d been heading. He dragged you into his dressing room, locking the door behind you before pressing you up against the door, legs wedged between yours. He was looking at you with the same animalistic gaze you’ve grown to understand, his breath hot against your mouth.

His lips ghosted over yours, tongue slipping past your teeth and licking circles around yours. You could feel him growing against your inner thigh, the tiniest taste of your lips enough to make him want more of you. Harry slid his hands behind you, palming at your soft ass before scooping you up and placing you down on the vanity, eyes dark with hunger as he gazed over you. “So perfect,” he whispered, hand cupping the nape of your neck as he dived in for another taste of your soft lips. He was insatiable, starved when it came to your pleasure - always like it was the first and last time he’d touch you, needing as much of you as he could get.

Harry bundled your dress up around your hips, groaning when he saw the wet spot on your panties, crisp from where your cream had soaked into them earlier in the day. He’d insisted you keep them on, the heavy material a reminder of how good he could make you feel. “Y’already wet for me, baby?” he rasped, slipping your tiny panties from your legs and stuffing them into his pocket. “Got you all worked up, huh?” Harry smirked as you shivered, the slightest brush of his fingers against your entrance shooting electricity through you. He licked the pad of his thumb before pressing it to your clit, leaning down to nip at your jawline when you whimpered beneath him. “Too sensitive, just fuck me please,” you whined, hips rocking back and forth to try to relieve some of the pressure that bubbled up inside of you with his one touch.

“Daddy’s needy little princess,” Harry cooed, lips soft against your cheek as he unbuttoned his jeans and let his hard cock spring free. He spat in his hand and rubbed it over his tip, guiding himself towards the centre of your parted legs. He entered you slow, one hand slipping under the bundle of fabric around your waist to grip onto your hip as he stilled inside of you, a groan slipping out as he felt your walls relax around his shaft. “More, H,” you pleaded, hooking your ankles around his back. He pulled out of you, looking down to see his head enveloped by your folds, cock twitching at the sight of your pretty pink lips wet around him. He fucked into you fast, thrusts brutal as he slammed his hips into you, catching you off guard. Every single time his tip hit your sweet spot you were crying out, your earlier orgasm only leaving you hungrier for him. Your hands gripped at his shoulders, desperate for something to hold on to to keep you grounded. It was as if you were on the outside looking in, watching your head lull back as he fucked into you, soul hovering somewhere separate to your body. He shifted slightly, angling you slightly upwards to hit a new, deeper angle inside of you. “So fucking big, so deep,” you whined, words tumbling out as you lost yourself in his cock. Your thighs tensed around his hips, pulling him tighter into your core as if there were anymore of him to take. Your orgasm washed over you quickly, the heat in your core bursting apart and rolling into every inch of your body. You cried out his name as you reached your climax, eyes rolling back in your head and stars all around you.

He’d never get enough of seeing you fucked out, cheeks pink and rosebud lips parted as you panted. It could send him over the brink in an instant, the combination of your walls spasming around his length as you came down from your high and the sight of what he’d done to you forcing his hot come out of him, even taking him by surprise as he painted your inner walls white. A hot and dirty little quickie was exactly what you both needed to clear your minds, keep your focus only on each other.

“Helped your nerves?” Harry grinned, wiping away a stray tear from your eye. You laughed, still dazed from your high. He slipped two fingers inside of you as he pulled out, stuffing his come back into your entrance. “You okay, sweet girl?” he asked you, helping your shaky legs to land back on the carpeted floor. “Mmm,” you hummed appreciatively, wrapping your arms around his chest as you fell into him, unsteady on your feet. “Took my cock so good, huh? Left you all broken?” Harry mewled, words muffled against your hair. He slipped an arm around your waist as you stepped away from him, holding you up as he unlocked the door. “Come on, I’ll get my driver to take you home,” he smiled, content in his post orgasm bliss.

—

“I need to tell you something,” you said, words bursting out when you finally couldn’t bite them back any longer. “What?” Joanie asked as she dropped her phone into her lap. You handed her the same gift bag Harry had given you, the necklace and note placed inside with two of the polaroids you’d taken earlier. “There isn’t a pregnancy test in here, is there?” she gasped, blue eyes wide. “No! It’s about what I’ve been up to this week,” you smiled, eyes glinting, suddenly brimming with excitement to finally tell her everything.

Joanie pulled out the pictures first, squinting at them both she passed them between her hands. She looked up at you, back down at the pictures, back up to you. Mouth agape, brows furrowed as she reached back into the gift bag. She pulled out the note next, unfolding it gently before her eyes grazed over the writing. “What the hell,” she whispered, searching in your eyes for any hint of mischief, certain this was some kind of elaborate prank. You picked up the necklace box, turning it in Joanie’s direction before you opened it and showed her the pendant inside.

“What is this?” she murmured, frozen still except for her eyes wandering over each item. “This is who I’ve been seeing,” you squeaked. You peeked out through scrunched up eyes, unable to gage her reaction at all. She gasped suddenly, drawing a hand to her mouth. “This is where he was pictured, in this hotel.”

You waited for it to hit her, the pieces already slotting together in her head but not making sense yet. “Call him,” she demanded suddenly. “If this is real then you have his number.” You giggled, pulling up your text chain in your phone.

y/n: do u have a second to call? X

Joanie grabbed the phone from you as you turned it around to show her, scrolling quickly through your messages. She paused on the first message he’d sent you, his pre-show selfie. Just as she started to zoom in on the picture, your phone started buzzing with a call. She thrust it back into your hands quickly, whisper-shouting for you to answer. “Hi love, you okay?” Harry asked, his slight northern rasp a clear giveaway now. Joanie fell back into the bed, hands clutched over her heart as she kicked at the bed, all the pieces finally coming together in her mind. “I’m okay Harry,” you laughed, watching your best friend thrash around. “Just got instructed to call you to prove you’re real.”

“Hi Joanie,” Harry called out, laughing as she squealed in the background. “I’ll let you get back to your dinner, meet me later?”

“Of course sweet girl, let y’know when I’m done,” Harry said before hanging up the call.

“Oh my fucking god, y/n! What the actual fuck?” Joanie shrieked, bolting back upright. “I know!” you laughed, grabbing a hold of her hands as you squealed with her. You told her everything, from the way you met him by chance, to your first kiss, the ‘date’ he set up for you, and everything in between.

“It sounds mental saying it out loud, I’ve felt nuts all week,” you told her, running your hands over your face. “It is nuts,” she said, still blinking quickly, trying to clear some of the shock clouding her mind. “He’s incredible, honestly. It’s been the most insane week of my life, and it’s been so difficult to keep it from you. But it’s such a big thing, it’s like, life changing already even without people knowing,” you sighed.

“Do you think he could be the one? Joanie asked. “He could be,” you grinned. “If things keep going as they are, I don’t see why we couldn’t make it.”

“I need to fucking scream. Harry fucking Styles! The Harry Styles could be your one. No wonder he was looking at you like that the entire show, here I thought he just fancies you. Turns out you luuurve each other,” Joanie babbled, throwing herself back against the mattress again, shaking her head in her hands.

Harry really had been focused on you for the whole concert, your position only a few rows back in Jonny’s place meaning he could see you clearly throughout the entire thing. Knowing that you were going to explain it all to Joanie anyway gave him permission to be as flirty as he wanted, acting as if you were the only person watching. You were certain your pre-show activities had riled him up to end too, and thank god you’d jumped his bones before watching him up there. Shirtless under his overalls, thick biceps and tanned chest on display, he’d looked delicious. He got you hot under the collar anyway, but to see the way he was acting while looking like that, you could’ve easily blown off telling Joanie in favour of getting fucked into a coma by your favourite man. “Come on, let’s get you home,” you laughed, suddenly burning up as you thought about your man. “And not a word to Tom,” you warned, jabbing Joanie in the ribs as you stood up.

You messaged Harry to let him know you wouldn’t be long, you were only walking Joanie to the nearest tube station so just long enough for Harry to finish his meal with Anne and Gemma before coming to meet you.

Once you’d hugged Joanie goodbye and promised to give her the details of your evening with Harry, you lingered by the entrance of the station, bouncing on your heels as you waited for him. It was so silly but so exciting, meeting him in a public place and not worrying about prying eyes or how you’d explain your appearance on the front of tabloids to your best friend. You could hear laughter from across the street, and your heart bubbled in your chest when you looked over. There he was, laughing and joking with fans he’d bumped into. You strolled towards him, somewhat subconsciously, drawn to his presence. Harry glanced over to see who was approaching and his face lit up, a huge toothy grin taking over his features. “Thank you girls, I’ve got to run,” he smiled at the young fans, eyes sparkling as he watched you where you stopped, leant against the wall just a few feet away from him. “Hi darling,” he grinned, whipping out an enormous bouquet of roses from behind his back. You gasped, eyes flitting between the flowers and his smile as he held them out for you, planting a gentle kiss to your lips as your hands met around the paper-clad stems. They were the biggest and probably most beautiful roses you’d ever seen. Twice the size of the ones you’d see in supermarket aisles, the perfect pale pink and ivory. “They’re incredible, H. What did I do to deserve these? Or what did you do?” you laughed, taking a big sniff of the floral scent. “Jus’ saw them and thought of you,” he smiled, taking your free hand in his. “This is nice,” you told him, head resting against his arm as you walked. He hummed appreciatively, squeezing your hand in his.

“Look, H!” you pointed, spotting a familiar sight that you hadn’t noticed before. The starbucks where you’d first met, only 5 days yet somehow a lifetime ago. “Can you imagine if we hadn’t both gone there?”

“Can you imagine if I didn’t work up the courage to talk t’you?” Harry laughed, tugging you across the road to get a coffee.

—

“How many kids are we going to have?”

“Hm?” you looked over at Harry, swilling the last dregs of your latte around the walls of the cup. You were back on his balcony now, looking out over the city that had brought you your love. It was so comfortable now, so right between the two of you that even sitting there in silence felt like something you’d done so many times, for so many years. It was scary, terrifying and yet so exciting. You were almost waiting for the other shoe to drop, scared to look around the corner in case a secret girlfriend or personality change was waiting to trip you up.

Harry repeated himself, lips curving into a tiny smirk. “Start with one and see how that one turns out I think,” you told him. He laughed, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees as he looked over you. He watched you like he wanted to drink in everything about you, searching for any new detail to memorise.

“What are you thinking about, princess?” he asked you, noticing how lost in thought you were.

“I’m just frightened, H. It’s only been 5 days,” you told him, looking over at him with big brown eyes. “I know, sweet girl. S’a lot so soon, huh?” he replied, holding one of your hands to his mouth and pressing a gentle kiss to the skin. You nodded, “yeah. And I- not that I don’t think we could work but it’s scary. Having the world know my name and forever being associated with you if the distance is too much.”

“Then come with me,” he pleaded, “be my little groupie.” He was smirking now, though his eyes remained serious. “I can’t, Harry,” you groaned. “It’s too late notice to take any longer off work and not all of us are rich.”

“Then quit your job. Let me help you just until the tour finishes and then you can find something else.”

“You are so out of touch,” you laughed, shaking your head. “I can’t just quit my job, not work my notice and then expect something else to come up in a month.”

“Says who?”

“Says the world, you doughnut.”

“Marry me.”

“Harry! You are so insane,” you shrieked.

“I’m serious. Marry me, be with me forever, have my babies.” He really was dead serious, toying with his rings as he looked at you.

“I am not marrying you after 5 days.”

“Then we’ll just date.“

“Date?”

He stood up as you questioned him, suddenly rushing out of the hotel room. You followed him slowly, laughing as he knocked on the door. “Come in,” you called out. “Open it, woman,” Harry shouted, fist banging on the wood again. He was standing there grinning as you opened it to let him back in, totally confused by what he was up to.

“Hi, I’m Harry,” he started, holding out a hand for you to shake. “I know we’ve just met but I’m falling in love with you, and I’d love to take you out tomorrow night.”

EEEEE!!!!! my little loves. i thought this was a nice place to end it but rest assured i have about 7 ideas for extras already half drafted so this won’t be the last you see of these 2!! 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

taglist: @ameerakane20 @sleutherclaw @slutforcoffein @harrysolaf @opheliaofficial07 @dragonslayersupremacy @nikkisimps @michellekstyles @im-an-overthinker @fangirl7060 @indierockgirrl @palmettogal508 @thereunion1d @angstygyal @hannah9921 @harryshotpocket @daphnesutton @poojasdesk @averytermaat @tenaciousperfectionunknown

[mydearlybeloathed]

𝐈 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ⁴

𝐢 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐫𝐲…

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: on the night of your promotion, you ruminate on just how far you've come, and make the harrowing realization that you've gone too far down this road. with only whispers as a guide, the deserter sets out to find the strawhat, finally done running from your problems.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: opla!luffy x gn!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 9.7k (wow)

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: use of Y/N, gn reader, mentioned death of a mother, the crisis climaxes, alcohol like once i think, the happy ending :)

𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬: the night we met, your hands are cold

series masterlist

The party—gala, more like—was in full swing. Violins swelled and a piano forted, and somewhere out of your sight was a woman singing opera. The music would have been lovely had you been anywhere else, but here you are.

At a Marine Gala of all places. You heaved a heavy sigh, sipping at your champagne as you forced a smile, pushing back your shoulders. 

The heavy gaze of your father rested on you from across the ballroom, worry lining his face at the thought that you might do something to disgrace your family name. That thought had never been more tempting, but you were nothing if not calm and collected. 

So you busied yourself with being a wallflower, dwelling in the itchy fabric of your outfit. It was nice, you gave it that, a rich blue color you might have picked for yourself if you had the option, which you hadn’t. Your father chose this outfit, like he made most of your decisions these days. 

He didn’t think Koby was a good influence? He had you transferred to another ship. He didn’t think you were ready for that promotion? He told your superiors just that. You hated him. You wanted to end him. You smiled at him from across the room as he raised a glass in your direction, speaking to Vice Admiral Garp in a low tone.

You downed your glass and wiped your chin, resting your eyes for a moment. Your father had risen to the rank of commodore recently, which had been a major boost to his ego. You’d been feeling the brunt of it for weeks. But maybe, things were about to change. This party was for you, after all.

The partygoers grew sparse for a moment, and as if light were shining down in a heavenly glow, there was Koby, his eyes scanning the room as he rose on his tiptoes. A wide smile split onto your face, and not even Helmeppo bobbing up behind Koby could sway it.

Uncaring of your father or proper etiquette anymore, you waved wildly and called, “Koby!”

A few strangers cast you dark looks as Koby’s bright eyes found yours. He all but raced in your direction, speed walking across the floor to maintain some level of poise. He nearly hugged you, nearly spun you around he was so happy, but settled on taking your hand and shaking it firmly.

You returned the gesture with a roll of your eyes. “Pleasure to see you, Captain Koby.”

“The pleasures all mine, for certain,” he answered, barely able to keep the mirth out of his tone and eyes. 

Helmeppo caught up to his friend, looking from you to Koby before doing a double take. A little grin slid onto his lips. “Oh, Commander.”

You nearly replied when Koby swatted his arm and gestured to the medal pinned over your heart. “Captain, remember? We’re at their promotion gala.”

“It’s not just my gala,” you said, shuffling your feet. “There’s others promoted too… And don’t call me Captain.”

Koby’s eyes darkened slightly, his gaze flickering all over your face. He was disappointed to find that even more light had left your eyes since last he saw you. This world was draining you of everything beautiful about you, and he feared the day the proud yet haunted cadet he’d met swabbing the decks all those years ago would be gone for good.

“Helmeppo,” Koby said distantly. “Can you get me a glass of wine?”

Instantly the boy perked up and clapped a hand on his friend's shoulder, muttering something as he went off in search of a drink. You watched him go, tired eyes fluttering, and as soon as Helmeppo was out of sight Koby set a hand on your shoulder and began to usher you deeper into the crowds of people, well out of your father’s line of sight. “Koby—?”

“You look miserable,” he drawled, squeezing your shoulder. “C’mon. Let’s get outta here.”

“I…” You thought of several reasons why, like the consequences if your father found out, or maybe being mugged on the streets, before you grew sick and tired of this awful anxiety you’d been dealing with for years. 

Letting out a determined huff, you nodded, allowing a smile to show. “Okay.”

જ⁀➴

A laugh ripped out of you at some awful joke Koby made as you walked through the night chill, heart light and shoulders relieved of that weary weight usually stacked on them. Koby bumped your shoulder. “You feelin’ better?”

You nodded despite yourself. “Yeah. A bit.”

The truth was, you never were better. You’d perfected the art of going numb, ignoring the ache of regret always looming in the back of your mind. But then, just some months ago, you’d seen stupid Red Hair Shanks, and he planted all these thoughts in your head. Just like he planted them in Luffy’s.

Your steps faltered, face falling, and you came to a halt to turn out to the sea on your left. The boardwalk of the city dropped off into deep blue waters splashing up against it. You shivered, wrapping your arms around yourself as Koby noticed you’d stopped.

He slowly inched up beside you, following you gaze. “What is it?”

You fiddled with the medal pinned to your clothes, a symbol of your new position among the Marines. “Do you think I’m a good person?”

The question caught him off guard. “Uhm, yes? I mean, of course I do.” He ducked to catch your gaze, growing increasingly worried when you simply closed your eyes. “What’s wrong?”

You hung your head and chewed at your bottom lip. “I… I’m tired, Koby.”

The bags under your eyes were evident, and so Koby nodded. “We can head back to base. I’ll tell your dad you’re sick—”

“Not just physically,” you choked out. Eyes pressed shut, you hissed out a sigh. “Mentally. I’m so tired of—of this.” You gripped your medal and ripped it off your chest, tearing a hole in your outfit. “I didn’t think I’d get this far. Now, I’m a captain. As a captain, I’m in charge of so many more people. So many more people will see me as this—awful thing that I’ve become.”

“Woah, hey.” Koby reached to take the medal from your vice grip, but you weren’t done, jerking away from him and looking right at him, eyes ablaze with years and years of thoughts better left unsaid.

“You know I never wanted this,” you nearly whispered. Your hands shook around the cold metal. “Koby… what if I can’t get out?”

For the longest time, all he did was stare at you, eyes slightly wide, and you feared you’d crossed a line. Regret pooled in your eyes as tears swelled at the corners. You half wished to return to the party, allow your father to berate you for disappearing, and continue a horrid night with your only friend angry with you.

Koby turned suddenly, expression unchanging, and trudged down the boardwalk, toward a row of buildings overlooking the sea. Hesitant, you followed, running your thumb over the back of your medal.

His pace slowed to allow you to catch up and walk beside him, your eyes stuck to the ground as you let him lead you blindly into the light of a hanging street lamp. You glanced up, gut going cold as you met eyes with Monkey D. Luffy.

You’d seen his wanted poster so many times you’d found every little detail you could, yet you still jumped out of your skin every time. 

Instantly, a burn welled up in your chest, fists tight at your sides. “Why…”

“You love him, right?” Koby asked.

Dazedly, you scoffed, lost in the poster. “What kind of question is that?”

“He feels the same,” said Koby, watching you gaze at Luffy’s picture like one might gaze upon a magnificent fresco. 

“You think so?” you wondered.

“I know so,” he replied with certainty.

Swallowing your tears, your eyes wandered around the wall in front of you, scanning over the several other wanted posters pinned up. Luffy’s crewmates took up much of the space, each looking so brave and fierce. Even Shanks’ poster was there, though slightly faded. 

Luffy. Shanks. Even Koby. They all had something in common: that brave fire you’d always been too fearful to ignite. 

Your fists started to shake. If courage was a fire, then you were a pile of wet logs, desperate for some kindling. Eyes flickering back to Luffy’s wide smile, plastered up on this wall, illuminated by lamplight, you forced down the taut coil in your gut, and exhaled. 

As your eyes fell closed, every crashing wave and calling bird fell silent. You barely even heard yourself breathe. Love. You loved him. You craved to see him. A thought hit you so sharply, you didn’t believe it was your own: did you love him enough to do something reckless?

The tether tight on your soul quivered, sending shockwaves across the sea and right to the heart of a boy made of laughter. His laugh grew brighter till you swore he was right beside you, but as you opened your eyes, there was only Koby, staring at you with some concern.

“Y/N?” he spoke tentatively, causing you to force down a thick swallow.

Breathing uneven, you blinked widely at him. Yes, you answered the question. Go, it replied. “I can’t stay,” you said so quietly Koby almost didn't catch it.

But he knew. He understood. Koby reached for your hand, taking the shiny Captain’s medal from your enclosed fist, and glanced out at the ocean. When he placed the medal back in your hand, you moved instantly, rushing at the water and hurling the medal far into its arms. The splash was too far away to hear, but you felt the medal sink into the depths as another of the binds tying you down snapped.

Your blood rushed in your ears, that same exhilaration from when you’d chased down Shanks some months ago. This time though—you heaved a hefty breath, shock written all over your face—this time you were taking the first chance you got.

A laugh was dragged out of you as you raked your hands through your hair, finding Koby behind you when you whirled around. “Shit… my dad’s gonna kill me.”

Yet, the thought didn’t hold much power when you considered that Luffy used to promise he would take you far, far away from that man. Maybe… maybe you could take yourself away. To Luffy. Hopefully, he would recognize you after all this time.

And when you raisec your gaze to Koby, he was smiling, eyes squinted as he reached to grab your shoulders and tug you into him. Your arms wrapped tight around his middle, and he hugged you all the more tighter, his hand finding the back of your head. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you more,” you murmured, dragging a watery chuckle from him.

“It’s not a competition.”

Jerking back, you scrutinized his face, swearing you would never forget him as long as you lived. Perhaps you’d see him again some day, long down the road, when he’s some big shot marine and you’re—well, you’re a pirate.

It had always been Luffy’s dream, his calling. For the longest time you had no clue if you had a dream of your own; you had one now. I’ll be brave, and Luffy will be proud. I’ll be proud. You wanted so dearly to be proud of yourself for once.

“Here.” Koby shoved a pouch of money into your hand. “Take this. Ask around for a way off the island. Y’should ditch the fancy clothes too.”

Nodding, you glanced down at your attire, deciding you’d snatch something off a clothes line and leave some beri on a windowsill. “What about you? You know my dad will suspect something.”

Koby simply shrugged it off, sporting a grin. “I’ve been with Helmeppo all night. No idea where you ran off to all of a sudden.”

Suddenly out of breath, you flattened your shaky hands against your sides, beaming up at him. This is it. My second chance. So many years of wishing and hiding had led you here. No more running, you decided. 

“Tell him I said hi,” Koby murmured. He turned to look back down the street, where far off out of sight the marine gala went on through the night, unaware a deserter was gathering their nerve. “Go now. Get off the island before sunrise.”

You nodded, and despite the cold chill running all over your skin, you shoved out your hand to shake Koby’s, chin quivering. “Goodbye, Captain.”

His smile faltered, his eyes glassy as he shook your hand firmly. “See you, Y/N.”

The moment he retracted his hand you set one foot in front of the other, holding your breath as your fists closed around your pant legs. You didn’t dare to look back even once all the way through the city. Finding clothes wasn’t too much of an issue; you found a clothesline running between two buildings fairly easy, swiping what looked like a mens shirt and a pair of work pants. You snabbed a hat for good measure, and left a handful of beri in your wake.

Down to the docks you rushed, setting eyes on a quartet loading crates onto a small ship nearly the twin of the one Luffy had left Dawn Village on. You were gone before the sun ever rose above the horizon, and Koby was none the wiser as to where you had gone, and he told your livid father just that, all while Helmeppo swore up and down they lost track of you at some point during the night.

Free of your uniform, free of your title, free of your father—free of it all, you stood on the deck of that little ship, doing what you could to help, your smile unrelenting against the wind whipping against your face. 

“What’re you smiling about?” asked the young son of the merchant who owned the ship.

You gave him some stupid answer about the sunrise being pretty, which it was, but you didn’t feel like explaining the euphoria you never thought you’d ever get to feel firsthand. 

Luffy once tried to explain the feeling the sea gave, how he got so thrilled by the adventure being a pirate would bring. You never understood, simply nodding along to whatever he said, because he looked pretty when he smiled like that. 

But you could feel it now. Deep in your chest danced a mix of nausea and excitement and dread all at once, but none of that mattered when the salt spray made your hair damp. You understood him now, and you couldn’t wait to tell him so. 

You only had to find him now.

જ⁀➴

Luffy had been thinking for a while now, and it had his friends a bit worried.

Thinking about food, and the one piece, and the usual things he thought about—but mostly you. He’d been wondering a lot about when he’d find you again, and if he’d ever have the chance to get you back. So much time had passed, his grand adventure getting in the way of tracking you down, if he even could.

And sometimes, on odd days, he also wondered—what if you didn’t want to come home? That question was daunting, leaving him in a daze for a whole evening. It couldn’t be true. How could you ever want to stay there, wherever you were?

Surely, surely, you wanted to find him as much as he wanted to find you. Luffy longed to stand beside you as the sun longed to stand aside the moon. He ached to hold you close and never let you go, like he should have all that time ago. 

Luffy knew you—probably better than you knew yourself. You’d done something heroic that day on the beach, dragging his grandpa down with you. But maybe… maybe if he’d done a better job at chasing away your fears, then you’d be with him now.

He hardly noticed when Robin sat beside him at the kitchen table, only blinking awake from his reverie when her shoulder pressed against his. “Luffy?”

He grinned. “What’s up?”

She shrugged. “Nothing. Just bored.” Her eyes found the sheet of paper lying before her captain, specifically the crudely drawn picture scrawled across it. “Uhm… what’s that supposed to be?”

Luffy’s eyes brightened and a smile split onto his face. “Oh!” He shoved the drawing in Robin’s direction. “Ya like it?”

Nodding, Robin wagered he’d drawn something between a stork and a windmill. “Mhmm. I like the… dynamics. What is it exactly?”

Nami walked by, mumbling reminders for the day under her breath, and she turned to smile at the pair, catching sight of the drawing. “That’s a nice drawing of Y/N, Luffy.”

“Thanks!” he beamed at her. 

Robin watched a giggling Nami leave, slowly returning his gaze to Luffy. “Who’s Y/N?”

As if he needed a reminder of why he’d been upset. Luffy’s face threatened to fall before he pulled himself together and smirked. “A marine. A special marine.” His eyes settled on the drawing. “My marine.”

No further explanation provided itself, but Robin almost didn’t need one; the way Luffy’s entire being softened at the name revealed just enough. All afternoon she inquired about this marine, hearing stories from Luffy’s past that all included the missing person.

“Where are they now?” she asked when he was done, and he tilted his head. “The marine. Where are they?”

“Oh, I dunno,” Luffy shrugged as he added a few more details to his drawing. “That’s the problem, I guess.”

Robin poked his shoulder. “You don’t have a lead?”

Luffy shrugged. “Nope. Just that they’re with the marines. I always figured they’d give me a sign when they’re ready to be found.”

Though she hardly understood that logic, Robin nodded as she set a hand on his shoulder and took her leave. Luffy examined his drawing, letting out a near-depressing sigh, and wished beyond wishing that you’d send him a sign soon.

The truth of the matter was, Luffy had tried to track you down. He’d interrogated each marine he came across, getting tidbits of information about the notoriously cold Commander Y/N. But whenever he thought he’d come this close, you slipped through his fingers, always a few steps out of reach. Like you didn’t want him to catch you.

Let me find you, he begged, and the very last of the tether tying you to land broke in two, throwing you head first into the life the sea had raged for you. Haha! 

Luffy jerked around, swearing he’d heard… something. But he was all alone, everyone off to their own devices. He shook out his shoulders, but nothing could rid him of the goosebumps.

જ⁀➴

You’d been somewhat well-known within the marines, but as a deserter? You were something of a celebrity. 

Sure, hiding your face everywhere you went was tasking, but at least you looked nice in your wanted poster. You liked to think Koby had chosen the picture used, doing you yet another favor even as you ran for your life.

And your poster didn’t go unnoticed by any means. Nobles who’d crossed your path, fellow marines you hadn’t seen in years, they all gasped at the sight of your poster being added to their roster. A few in particular were rather noteworthy…

Nia, far too sweet for such a world (one wonders why she’s a marine), stood frozen for five whole minutes when she saw it, not sure whether to be horrified or giddy you’d finally done something about the forlorn look in your eyes. She balled up her fists, and wondered what freedom tasted like.

Vice Admiral Garp himself laughed so hard he nearly fell off his desk chair, startling the poor cadet instructed to take the poster to him. He swiped up the paper and wiped at a tear, positively thrilled. “Finally! The coward’s grown up!”

Red Hair Shanks, so tipsy he nearly missed it, before Beckman gripped his shoulder and smiled so big his cigarette nearly fell from his teeth. Shanks ripped the poster off the wall, admiring the number on your head. “Well I’ll be… They did it.”

And Monkey D. Luffy, wandering a port town with Nami’s hand on his shoulder to keep him from running off. Unsuspecting Luffy, griping that he didn’t need an escort. 

Nami tightened her hold, steering him through the crowd of shoppers. “Listen, this is supposed to be a quick supply run. I can’t take any chances.”

“Nami,” he drawled, rolling his eyes. “You’re hurtin’ me! Let go. I promise I won’t get distracted.”

She shot him a skeptical glare, assessed his innocent smile, and scoffed. “Fine. But I swear—”

She released him, leading the way to a bread stall. His eyes roamed over the busy market place, the scent of fresh flowers mixing with grilled foods. Some little kids played a game with a ball in an alley they passed, and two seagulls fought over scraps on the corner. A normal little town, full of life by the look of it.

“Oof!” Luffy ran right into Nami’s back, stumbling as he righted himself. He cast her a glower, huffing, “Now who’s sidetracked. This is a quick supply run, Nami—”

“Shut up,” she snapped, lips parted and she sightlessly reached for his shirt and started to drag him along once again. He huffed and puffed until Nami stopped again, this time in front of a long wall lined with poster upon poster of wanted criminals. 

She snapped in his face, silencing his complaints. Nami wasn’t sure what to say, unsure if she’s right, yet somehow confident she’s not wrong. So she simply grabbed his face and turned it toward one poster in particular; the picture was of a person around their age, standing rigid and proud in a marine get-up. Their lips were pulled into a tight grin, but their eyes were dead and blank.

“Is that…?” Nami trailed off, watching with bated breath as Luffy reached to take it down, the corners tearing from the tacks used to pin it up.

Luffy held the poster like it was glass, eyes flickering all over, checking for inconsistencies. He found none, bringing the poster closer to his face, a soft chuckle slipping past his lips.

Former Captain Y/N L/N. Wanted dead or alive for ten million beri.

He hardly believed his eyes. His sign. You’re ready.

The whole town heard his victory shout, rattling windchimes and alerting everyone around that, “THEY DID IT! They’re free!” He whirled on Nami and shook your poster in her direction. “Nami, we have to find them! How do we find them?”

“Not sure,” she said, unable to help the grin on her face. “But we will.”

Now it was Luffy doing the dragging and Nami doing the whining, all the way back to the ship, and the whole crew was witness to the blinding smile spread on their captain’s face as he brandished your wanted poster to them. 

What would he do? What would he say? Luffy figured he would apologize first—for what, he didn’t really know, he just felt like he should—and then he’d yell at you for feeling like you had to stay, before attacking you in a hug sure to drag you to the ground.

And then he’d kiss you, probably, definitely. You were long overdue for one of those.

He just had to find you first. 

Sanji and Zoro stood leaning on the banister around the ship’s helm, watching as Luffy rattled on about how you’d love Robin’s library, when the cook turned to the swordsman, taking out his cigarette to speak. 

“So we’re bounty hunting Luffy’s lost marine?” Sanji mused with a half grin, drawing a smirk from Zoro.

He cast Sanji a look and shrugged. The cook laughed wryly and stubbed his smoke on the banister. “This should be fun.”

જ⁀➴

Within a week the rumors had spread like wildfire across the sea: ex-marine Y/N L/N was searching for Monkey D. Luffy. 

“Did you hear?” said a baker to his neighbor. “That marine deserter stole Yuri’s boat!”

“I thought they looked familiar!”

And some miles off, a widow whispered among her friends. “And as they were sailing off they shouted, ‘Tell Strawhat Luffy I’m after him!’ And off they were!”

Three islands later, the people of a lonely village began to whisper as Y/N the Deserter stepped off a little sloop. Your void expression, calloused hands, and narrowed gaze were intimidating enough, but what was more nerve-wracking was your silence.

As you did on every island before, you headed right for the closest bar, and without much pretense, you asked if Strawhat Luffy had been seen in the area. Usually, the answer was a nervous twitch followed by a thoughtful silence, and then, usually, a no. 

Receiving the expected answer once again, you gave a frustrated sigh and said no more, sitting solitary at the end of the bar, shooting glares at anyone who dared to look at you too long. Deep in your thoughts, you wondered if this was payback for hiding from Luffy for so long, always slipping through his fingers as he was yours now. 

All this happened five more times, three of which nearly gave you hope, but Luffy was always leaving as you were arriving, always just out of reach. Each time you left a village, you left with the same message: “If you see Monkey D. Luffy! Tell him I’m looking for him!” 

No one was quite sure if the Deserter Marine meant to kill the Strawhat, or meant some other kind of pirate business. Either way, your intentions were clear to those you crossed, so you can imagine one small island’s sudden excitement when shortly after your departure, in sailed Monkey D. Luffy and his crew.

The restlessly bored daughter of the mayor wasted no time in rushing up to the pirate captain and explaining in long-winded detail your declaration. Luffy started to laugh almost maniacally, grinning from ear to ear as he turned to shake Zoro by his stiff shoulders.

The rumors stretched even to the marines, tirelessly searching for their escaped soldier, primarily the group led by Captain Koby, who forced down a laugh when the information reached him.

“I’m sorry,” he told his superiors. “We’ve searched for months, and honestly, we’re exhausting our resources over a deserter. I think it’s time we give it a rest.”

Slowly, your wanted poster was overshadowed by those around it, and people stopped whispering about Y/N the Deserter, who traveled from island to island, village to village, entering a spectral and leaving a spectacle. 

You fought off bounty hunters and swindled food vendors, using all your money on information alone. A stolen sword on your hip and a suspicious maroon stain on the cuff of your sleeve, you looked more and more like a pirate by the hour. 

Months. And nothing. No sign of him. 

Nothing.

Till just now.

You weren't exactly sure if you were seeing right, squinting through the blazing sun as you slowly walked down the dock of the latest island. A ways away, pocketed away between two large vessels, was a caravel with a creative masthead; a lion, to be precise. That isn’t what stopped you in your tracks, though—emblazoned on the sail was a skull and crossbones, the typical jolly roger… accompanied by a Straw Hat.

So many days… you’d very nearly given up, the idea always at the back of your mind, wondering if all of this was foolish, if you’d made tragic mistake after tragic mistake and now you would never see your best friend and the love of your life ever again—yet here you stood, breathless, eyes locked on the ship you’d only ever dreamed of seeing. 

On tentative feet, you walked down the docks, weaving in and out of busy sailors to reach that ship. The sky was cloudy and dark, and it would probably rain later that day, and still you swore a beam of sunlight was shining down upon the vessel. The Thousand Sunny. 

“I’m gonna be sick,” you whispered, clutching at your gut as your skin got all clammy and cold and suffocating. “Oh, god.”

Hah! Was your mind playing tricks, or was he really so close you could hear his laughter just up on the deck of the ship. You barely realized when you stopped moving, only aware once your heart started thumping in your ears. 

Your fists tightened with resolve at your sides and you surged forward, forcing step after step till you reached the gangway of the ship. Blood rushing, hands shaking, heart racing, you set one foot on the beginning of the wooden ramp, eyes raising to where the gangway opened up to the deck. 

“Sanji! You changed the combination on the fridge again!”

Frozen in your tracks, you realized you’d forgotten what his voice sounded like. He sounded different now—older. Either way, you couldn’t move, listening closely as a man replied, “Yeah, I did. No clue how you cracked the first code.”

The scoff to follow was so clear you could picture the boy rolling his eyes perfectly. Your pulse thundered, drowning out every other noise, a chill passing through your blood once again. You could do this. You would do this. Luffy was right there.

“Hey.” You jerked back, wild eyes finding a man leering down at you, suspicion all over his face. One hand rested on the hilt of a sword, one of three. “What d’you want?”

Zoro’s brows met as he assessed the stranger staring blankly up at him, their jaw dropped as they searched for an answer. The stranger backed away like a frightened animal, cursed softly, and bolted deeper into the town. 

“Okay…” Zoro tilted his head, wondering why he had the feeling he’d seen them before… Oh. Oh. Zoro’s eyes widened and he misstepped, nearly falling overboard as he raked a hand through his hair. “Shit—Hey! Hey, wait!”

Nami rushed to the edge of the ship in an instant, book abandoned on her chair. In seconds she zeroed in on the figure ducking into the crowds, her breath catching. It couldn’t be. It was too perfect. “That’s…”

Zoro barked a laugh. “Yeah!”

Her jaw set and she whirled on him in a flash, brows met. “You let them go?!”

“What—” He sputtered a response as she punched his bicep. “I didn’t—”

“What’s going on?”

Nami and Zoro froze, heads whipping back to face their captain as he hopped down from the helm, a pair of deer in headlights. Luffy’s head was tilted, his hat snug on his head, looking as chipper as ever. Nami tried to speak, yet her throat had run dry, only a squeak escaping.

Zoro expelled a sigh as gravity of the situation fully set in. Years and years he’d been listening to Luffy rabble on about first first-mate, his best friend, the one he’d lost to the marines. The true story of how you were separated was muddled and confusing, for sometimes it was you who’d left and sometimes it was him. You’d been as strange and elusive as the One Piece itself until the day you’re wanted poster was found, and Zoro realized you were a real person and not just some fictitious story.

You meant as much to Luffy as his dreams, and to Zoro, that was something sacred. 

The words found him instantly, eyes locking with Luffy’s and voice laden with solemnity. “They’re here.”

Luffy’s face drained of color and Zoro nearly went to make sure he wouldn’t fall. “What?” he croaked.

“They’re here,” Nami gasped at last, a smile working its way up her face. Luffy turned his eyes to her, all wide and disbelieving. “We found them.”

The edges of Luffy’s lips quivered upward, gaze flickering between his friends. “I—I told you that innkeeper wasn’t lying!”

Nami rolled her eyes. “That’s what you’re focused on?”

Not even a beat went by when, “He did tell you so.”

“Yeah,” Luffy laughed. “You said we shouldn’t trust ‘em.”

She wasn’t in a fighting mood, not at a time like this, so she gritted her teeth and relented, “Fine, you told me so. Can we go? They ran off and who knows where they’ve gone.”

And just like that, Luffy snapped to attention, brows vaulted as his eyes darted to the crowded streets beyond the docks. “They ran away? Why?”

“Zoro probably scared them,” Nami grunted, swatting the broad shouldered man who huffed in reply. 

“Whatever!”

The crew was rallied in ten minutes, their ranks spreading through the city in a matter of moments. Really, it was only a matter of time before they found you, at least Luffy told himself that.

But he couldn’t get it out of his mind. Why did you run away?

જ⁀➴

The only reason you stopped sprinting was the driver who shoved you aside to help his lady into her awaiting carriage. Otherwise, you might have run from one end of the island to the other, just to be safe.

Teetering on one foot then the other, you spat a curse and hunched over, clutching at the collar of your shirt as you hurried into the awning of an alley. You muttered over and over, hitting the heel of your palm to your head. Slumping against the wall, you mocked yourself, “Oh, Tell Monkey D. Luffy I’m looking for him! Did you really think you’d be able to face him? You’re so stupid!”

And now, his friend had seen you. You’d have to escape the city somehow, sail far away, and start anew. A new name would have to be decided. Hopefully Absolute Fucking Idiot the First wasn’t too common. 

Right after the foolishness was the shame—how could you come this far just to sprint as fast as you could from your him? The one you would travel every sea twice to find, if only you could find the nerve. 

Clawing at your arms, inhaling deep, you allowed yourself a moment of peace (it didn’t work). Dark spots crept up your vision, wide eyes blinking fast, a cold sweat forming. You needed to sit down, preferably not in a damp alleyway.

You found your way to a bar, a scene you’d grown familiar with over the years. Though your ears and eyes were peeled, you couldn’t help the sneaking feeling that man was going to find you. You assured yourself it was a stupid, that you were good at hiding, that you’d made an art of it—but what if?

What if something inside wanted Luffy’s friend to find you? To drag you back? To give you no choice but to see Luffy and know him again? On that thought, you lifted your gaze and ordered a glass of juice, because you’d rather have a clear head when that crewmate of his didn’t stop searching.

Sipping at your drink, you sat a while in thought, chin rested on your palm as you swirled the juice around with a straw, creating little whirlpools. You nearly fell asleep like that when the bell over the bar’s door jingled. You peeked out the corner of your eye, seeing a pretty woman gazing around, looking for someone.

Her long dark hair draped around her shoulders as she crossed her arms and sighed, defeated. You turned back around and drank the rest of your juice, ignoring how familiar that woman looked. It was probably nothing; probably just another pirate off one of the many wanted posters you’d been presented with. 

“You’re Y/N, right?”

Every muscle in your body stiffened, all breathe lost at the mention of your name. You whipped around to find the woman a few inches away from you, her eyes now intently locked on yours. 

You licked your lips as your panic swelled. A bounty hunter perhaps? “Who?”

“Y/N,” she repeated, undeterred. “The Deserter. Is that you?”

Leveling her with a glare, you stood and set a hand on your sword. “You’ve got the wrong person.”

Taking in her blank stare, you sidestepped and made to weave around her, heart racing once again, when she grabbed your tricep in a grip stronger than she looked capable of. You jerked away, but she only tightened her hand.

“Luffy’s looked for you a long time,” she whispered, shooting icicles donw your spine. “You mean a lot to him just to run off when he finally finds you.”

Slowly, you met her gaze, jaw slack as you heaved in deep breaths. “He… what?” You tried to get away, weaker this time. “Who are you?”

A grin slid easily onto her face, giving her an air of danger. “So it is you.” She extended a hand to you even as she kept you in place with her other. “Nico Robin. I’ve heard a lot about you, Captain.”

Instantly, every fiber of your being crawled, a sneer taking your face. “I’m not a captain.”

“Not anymore. Luffy was so excited when he found out.” Robin released you, grinning when you stood frozen in place. “Could we talk?”

You’re not sure how Robin got you sitting at a shadowed booth near the back of the bar, but there you were, sitting across form her as she stirred her drink. You felt stiff all over, hands folded in your lap. “Listen, I’ve been looking for him too.”

“We know,” Robin said after a sip. “We got your messages.”

Your skim warmed. “Right, uhm. I was headed for your boat—ship—Sunny…” You gaped, grasping at words that practically sprinted away from you. Were the walls closing in? Was the air getting thinner? You snatched at the first feasable sentence. “But I couldn’t...”

When you lifted your gaze, you’re not sure what you expected. Maybe for her to be angry, disappointed, amused even. But instead, she looked curious, her head tilted slightly, her eyes scanning your face. 

“Why?” she asked ever so simply.

You felt very small, looking anywhere but at Robin, fiddling with your thumbs. Deflect. Deflecting is good. “Is Luffy okay? Good, I mean. Is he good? I heard him. He sounded happy.” 

She didn’t answer. She only sat in silence, a brow raised. You cracked your neck from side to side, too awkward for comfort, desperate worries boiling up your throat and— 

“I think… I think, sometimes, he’s still better off without me.” Your leg bounced up and down. “Like, what if I see him, and I haven���t changed at all? I’ve always been a coward. What if that’s all I’ll ever be?”

Robin watched you very closely, her heart aching as a part of her regretted being so harsh with you before. She’d only been thinking of Luffy, but still. She leaned closer and set her arms on the table, trying to catch your flickering gaze. “Hey.” She held your stare firmly. “You deserted the marines. A coward wouldn’t do that.”

“But I ran away.”

“No,” she said with a shake of her head, offering a slight smile. “You’re here with me.”

Robin never swayed in her direct attention to you, and though her gaze burned into you, something about its blaze was warm. Your mother had always been a blur on the forefront of your mind, killed in action some years after your birth. The one memory you had of her was of a scolding, when her eyes burned into you just like this.

“He looked for me?” you asked, tapering off. 

Robin smiled. “Since he saw your poster a few months back. I suspect he’s been looking for clues even longer.”

“But… he’s gotten so… great. Everyone knows his name.”

“And yet…” Robin ensured she had your attention. “He never forgot yours.” She pushed aside her half-full glass and inched toward the end of the booth. “Why would he? To me, it seems like you’re the love of his life—maybe even above the sea.”

She left you dazed, not breathing nearly enough air, and you stammered as she stood to her feet. “Where are you going?”

“Back to the Sunny,” she shrugged, stretching. “Feel free to follow.”

You slipped to your feet as well. “You won’t make me?”

Now was when she looked amused. Robin’s lips quirked as she shook her head. “I can’t make you do anything. But, if you wanna prove you’re not a coward—”

She pivoted, hands in her pockets as she called over her shoulder, “—you know where to find him.”

And she was gone and quick as she appeared, out of the bar and down the street in a matter of seconds. Rattled, you leaned on the table and collected your wits from where they’d been scattered all over the ground. 

You could have been standing there for three minutes or three hours—you couldn’t tell—but when you finally shook yourself back to reality you swiftly paid and set out into the street. You shielded your eyes and looked toward the sun, catching it hiding just behind the tops of the buildings on either side of the street. 

A lot happened in those few moments of looking at the sun.

You were nine years old again, holding a training sword and having no idea what to do with it. Your father had shouted at you for not catching on quicker. Your mother’s grave was newly dug. You were only nine, yet expected to be so much more. You wanted—needed to be so much more.

A little boy watched on, wondering when you’d stop staring at the ground and notice him only a few feet away. After ten minutes, he grew bored and jumped off the log pile he’d been perched on. 

“What’re you doing?” he asked, startling you.

You blinked widely at him. “Practicing.”

He grinned crookedly. “For a staring contest?”

“To be a marine,” you said forcefully as you thrust the little sword out pathetically. “Father says I have to be the best.”

The boy plopped down on the grass in front of you, pulling at pieces of it and sprinkling them back down. “Yeah, my grandpa says the same. Too bad for him though.”

You examined him carefully, letting your sword drop to your side as you slowly knelt beside him. “Why too bad?”

A wicked grin crossed his face. “I’m not gonna be a marine.”

“What will you be?” you asked when he didn’t go on.

“I dunno. Happy, I guess.”

“Can marines not be happy?”

“Not the ones I’ve met.”

He had you there. You puffed up your cheeks, took a quick look around, and leaned in very close to whisper, “I don’t wanna be a marine either. But that’s a secret!”

The boy nodded quickly, his smile so bright you felt warm under its shine.

You wandered down the street, head in the clouds, as a ghost of that little boy dragged you along with him, your hand trapped in his. A smaller you was stumbling to keep up, your strides too short.

“C’mon! Shanks is back!”

“Wait! Luffy, you’re too fast!”

He always let you catch up. Always. You blinked and the little boy wore a straw hat now and had a scar on his cheek. He was terrifying you, slingshotting himself across a forest. He was holding your hand and scowling up at your father, slapped across the face a moment later. He was telling you about his dreams, and how in every one, there was you. 

“I’ll be captain of a mighty ship! And you’ll be my first mate, won’t you?”

And he was watching as you remained on shore, standing beside his livid grandfather, left to face the consequences on your own. Left behind of your own accord, feeling as if there was never any other choice.

“But there’s always a choice,” you whispered, and it hit you like a train; you’d been making all the wrong ones. 

The street fell to the background as you lifted your gaze from the ground, finding the docks right there in front of you. Somewhere, the Thousand Sunny rested on the water, her masthead peering out as if watching for you. All you had to do was step beyond the sidewalk and onto those wooden platforms.

Feet itching to step both forward and back, you held your breath as your muscles locked up. Your world dug in its heels yet the sun continued to set, ignoring your hesitance, growing tired of waiting on you. As your fingers dug into your pants, you willed time itself to stop, just to let you think this through a bit longer. 

You were denied.

“If you wanna prove you’re not a coward, you know where to find him.”

You expelled all your breath in an utterance: “I’m not a coward.”

Shaky legs carried you down the docks, past little sloops and grand vessels, around lumbering sailors and lanky merchants. The air chilled your bones as night grew closer, winds casting in from the sea. Salt air filled your lungs and pushed at your back, wrapping around you and shoving you forward still. 

You walked and walked till you hit the edge of a gangway, falling forward and landing on your palms with a yelp. Heaving a sigh, you glanced up, finding the top of the ramp you’d seen earlier. No burly swordsman stood at the top. No one stood in your way.

But could you get out of your own?

Jaw set, you shoved to your feet and stomped up to the deck, steps faltering when you finally made it. How… lackluster. You released your stiff shoulders as you cast a look around, finding no reason for alarm or vigilance. No armageddon or catastrophe. Only a peaceful ship deck, drifting upon calm waves.

Not a soul stood on deck. A bucket hinted that someone had mopped recently, and a book lay closed atop a beach chair. Somewhere below deck was a shouting, but you couldn’t make it out. Whatever horrible fate you’d expected to face was nowhere to be found.

You were here, and all was well.

A small sound came from behind you, and it sounded like your name. 

For once in your life you didn’t think before you whipped around, gut lurching. The boy was so close. He looked older, like you thought he would, but still very much the same. A new scar ran across his chest, revealed by the open shirt across his shoulders, but it was without a doubt Monkey D. Luffy.

His eyes pierced you, reality sinking in and crumbling you. After all the years and worries and waiting, he stood only a few feet away. The world didn’t break. The sky didn’t fall. You weren’t struck down by some mighty force of fate. Luffy didn’t look angry at all—in fact, he looked almost happy.

A small smile trembled on his lips, eyes so bright. “You came back.”

His name left your lips like a gasp as you stumbled for him on unsteady legs. You hadn’t even blinked and he was there, hands grabbing at your shoulders and running down your arms so delicately, as if you might turn to mist right then and there.

You reached for his hand and clutched it tightly, lacing together your fingers and marveling at how easily they fit—a pair unhindered by time. Your eyes flickered up from your interlocked hands to find his eyes. The softness of his features knocked the breath out of you.

You broke the bated moment, throwing your arms around him and pulling him close, your chin finding his shoulder. Luffy held you tightly with his eyes wide and his breathing heavy. 

“I’m sorry,” you gasped, ducking your chin to press your forehead to his collarbone. “I’m so—I won’t ever leave. Never. Please don’t—don’t—”

“I won’t,” Luffy murmured in your ear. His rubber arms extended to wrap around the two of you twice, for only once would never be enough. “I’m sorry.”

Just as tears began to break past your lash line Luffy took you by your arms and jerked you away from him, keeping you a breath away. “You never had to stay,” he practically hissed. “Why did you think you had to stay?”

He made it hard to think when he wiped the tears off your cheeks. All you could do was lean into his hands, stammering. “I just thought you’d be better—”

“No.” He shook his head. “No. No, why would you ever think that?”

You blinked, at a loss for an answer. “I dunno. I—I’m just fucked up like that. Self-destructive and… what-not…” 

Luffy didn’t let you lower your head even as your cheeks warmed his hands. His fingertips traced the apples of your cheeks, memorizing the feel of your skin. He leaned closer, catching your gaze with a reassuring smile and stroke of your face. “I won’t leave you if you won’t leave me. Ever.”

Slowly, you nodded, a burn rising in your neck. “Deal.”

He pulled you into an impossibly tighter embrace, one hand cradling the back of your head, the other around your back. You hooked your hands around his shoulders and breathed ever so gently as his hand settled on your back, soothing the tension wrought throughout your body.

You shivered, nails slightly clawing at him. Close was not close enough. “I missed you.”

“Me too… Worm.” And the moment was broken as the most unflattering laugh left you. You pushed him off with a scoff, grinning wide as his brows vaulted innocently.

“Shut up! I don’t even read anymore!”

The smile quickly slid off his face, replaced by a face so cutely quizical. “Why not?”

“I just…” You thought of how to phrase it. “I don’t have anything to read, and if I did, I still don’t have the time.”

Just a beat later he had you by the hand, determined as he started to tug you along with him. “I’ve got something to show you.”

You were dragged below deck before you could say a word, led swiftly through the dimply lit hallways. His snickers and beaming smile flooded your head and left you helpless to ask anything at all, following after him as best you could. You passed by an open door that presumably led to a kitchen, briefly spying a crew of people gathered around a table as you zipped on by.

Luffy stumbled to a stop right outside a closed door. Chest heaving, you rose a brow. Luffy grinned, squeezed your hand, and pushed inside. It was dark, voidish shapes scattered around. Luffy left your side, rushing to a lantern and igniting it, casting the room in a warm glow. Jaw falling slack, you spun around, gaze flickering this way and that.

“A library,” Luffy said needlessly, at your shoulder once again. “Like I promised.”

On every wall a floor to ceiling shelf was littered with books tall and wide and thin. Your hand brushed the many spines, the deep warm colors and soft leather and canvas covers running under your fingertips. You pinched yourself next, heart hammering in your chest as you swiveled around, blinking quickly. “Luffy…”

It was one thing to hear that he’d never forgotten… but it was a very different thing to be standing in the tangible proof that Luffy never stopped believing. 

It felt as if you were seeing him for the first time all over again, all doubts cast away and dashed out. He was the same Luffy, but he was stronger, mightier than the Luffy you’d known. More determined, if it was possible. As he stood there before you with a hope laden gaze, his dream felt real.

A shiver ran down your spine; Luffy would be the Pirate King, and by God, you’d be there to witness it. 

Your fear had gone somewhere you couldn’t find nor feel it, and though it left a gap in your chest, that gap was quickly being filled by a ten-fold love for this boy.

You took his hand and held it in both of yours, peering into his eyes all glassy-like. “Thank you. For not giving up.”

He grinned, asking, “Was there ever any doubt?”

You’d get into that later, perhaps with a therapist should you pass one on the seas. For now, you scoffed a laugh and pulled him closer, a hand reaching for the scruff on his neck and carding through it. He leaned into you, nose brushing yours, as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. 

You pursed your lips despite sighing at the soft touch. “You missed.”

“I did?” Luffy snickered as you rolled your eyes. He caught you off guard, darting in to kiss you slowly, drawing you in close. 

“Join my crew,” he asked—stated, more like—holding so much hope in his eyes that you had to stop just to admire him. You relished in the fact that he was right inf ront of you, reaching to trace his face from his temple to his jaw, vowing to never take him for granted ever again.

The tethers and cords of your souls melded back together, as they should have remained from the very beginning. “Yes, Captain,” you replied, laughing at how his smile grew brighter. 

He gripped your hands in both of his, tugging you along as he retreated for the door. “Wanna meet the others?”

You dug your heels into the floor, chuckling dryly. “You know, maybe we should hold off till tomorrow, yeah?”

Luffy paused, brows meeting, blinking slowly. “Okay, if that’s what you want…”

Purring your lips, you looked from each of his eyes to his nose to his forehead, sighing when defeat found you. “You really want me to meet them now?”

The squeeze he gave your hands, along with how the smile grew back on his face, was answer enough. Another sigh pulled at your chest as nodded. “Lead the way.”

By the end of the hour, the entire crew had come to a decision: you fit in perfectly, even if they had to (gently) jam your piece into the puzzle just to get you to converse with them. “They’re nervous,” Luffy not so silently whispered to the others, causing heat to crawl up your neck as you pinched your nose. 

Gathered around on various modes of seating, you found yourself wrapped in an uncanny warmth despite the chill of the sea air. You shared a crate with Luffy, thigh to thigh, his hand playing with your fingers as he recounted story after story of his adventures with his friends.

A bittersweet smile sat on your lips, happy he was happy, wondering what could have been if you’d gone with him. Stop it. It’s in the past.

“What about you,” Robin interrupted Usopp’s next inevitable tangent, eyes zeroed in on you. “Surely you’ve got stories.”

All eyes shifted to you, and the warmth fled the moment instantly. You shook you head quickly. “Nah, nothing as interesting as yours.”

Luffy bumped your shoulder, suddenly excited. “Then tell us a boring one! I wanna know what you’ve been doing.”

Grinning softly, you stared at your feet, twindling the toes of your boots.”I don’t want to think about it.”

That surely sucked the happiness out of air, replacing it with an ominous vagueness. Luffy’s side pressed against yours, and with a sigh you quickly broke the awkward silence. “Not all of it was bad, though. I had Koby—Oh! He says hello, by the way. I did some good things too, or I hope I did. Like, this one time, my captain at the time got a call from a nearby village.”

“The call was from this girl, I think,” you recalled. “She pleaded for help. These pirates had come in and plundered everything… The call ended in a gunshot.”

You had the whole crew’s attention then, the silence almost eerie. You cleared your throat. “So we took maybe twenty marines and headed to the island. By then the pirates had hostages at the center of the town.” You pushed back your shoulders, imitating your superiors. “Surrender now, said the captain, and the leader of the pirates obviously laughed in his face. Captain Gozi—that’s his name—kept pressing in, acting so docile, even as the pirate captain pressed a gun to the head of this young boy. Gozi is a good man, but we had differing opinions on how to go about the situation.”

Nami interjected, “How did you want to solve it?”

You hesitated before admitting, “Well, I did wind up solving it, and Gozi wasn’t too happy about it.”

“What did you do?” asked Chopper, his ears flitting back against his head. 

“The pirate captain kept on laughing, and when Gozi continued to try to negotiate, the pirate threw the boy down and was about to shoot—so I shot first. Right here.” You tapped your forehead. “That’s actually the reason I was promoted to captain. They made me out to be a hero.”

“Woah,” Usopp sighed. 

Zoro tilted his head. “So you shoot and you use a sword?”

“I’m sort of a jack of all trades, master of none.”

Sanji shrugged. “Still better than master of one.”

Before you could say something quippy in return, a swift peck was left on your cheek, leaving a blooming warmth on your skin. You whipped around to blink wide eyed at Luffy and his lopsided smile.

“What?” you laughed.

He gently kicked your foot. “I just really love you.”

A series of coos erupted from Nami and Chopper, along with some snickers from the boys, and you sat growing increasingly flustered under the attention. You rammed your forehead into Luffy’s shoulder to hide your face, dragging a bright laugh out of him. 

Minutes later, when the focus shifted away from you and toward the next elaborate tale to be strung by the Great Usopp, as he called himself, you leaned into Luffy and murmured softly. “I really love you too.”

High above, the stars shined and wove themselves through the night sky, no longer tiring themselves with transferring the love of a pair between the edges of the seas—they were together again, at long last, and the stars rested easy now that Fate had had its fun.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @its-not-too-late-for-coffee @khaleesihavilliard @gingernut1314 @lifesurfer2475 @shuujin @maybe-a-bi-witch @bi-narystars @luciledreamz @awenthealchemist @baku-boneless

[sugurusbabygirl]

cumming down your throat

you're just too good to him.....

It felt too good to stop.

Taking him so deep, all the way down your throat. One hand resting on his thigh while the other grazes his balls nice and light, just the way he likes. Every bob of your head makes another strangled groan fall from his lips.

"F-fuck, y/n. God-ah!"

His hands are gathered in your hair, gripping it in a tight makeshift ponytail. You pull off of him for a moment to catch your breath, sliding your hand up and down his spit covered cock. His hair was a mess. Falling around his head like a halo. Your eyes flick up to his, looking up through long lashes and ruined makeup. The sight makes him groan and throw his head back against the pillows.

"Look so beautiful, baby." He grins, pulling your hair back tighter to get a better view of your mascara stained face.

You smile cheekily, keeping your eyes on him as you take him in your mouth once again. A low moan rumbles from deep in his throat. You return to your fast pace, flattening your tongue against his cock as you bob.

"Shit, shit, so good. So fucking good." He tightens his grip on your hair, lifting you by the makeshift ponytail, halting your movements. "Stay just like that, baby."

Suddenly he's bucking his hips, thrusting up into your mouth with a shaky whimper to match each and every one. His hips moved faster, his grip got tighter. Damn, he sounded heavenly.

"S-so good. You're fucking p-perfect. Ngh-oh my god."

His thrusts were getting sloppier. Your jaw ached as you worked to keep your tongue flat against his cock as he moved. You felt him twitch against the thick muscle.

"Close....close.....fuck...."

You dug your nails into his thighs, focusing on your breathing when he yanked on your hair, holding you in place as his cum shot into your mouth in a few hot bursts. He whispered your name in a hoarse, tired voice. A thin layer of sweat had beaded his forehead and his chest rises and falls rapidly. You can't help but smile as you watch him come down from the high.

When his eyes finally open, they fall on yours. You swallow, sliding his cum down your throat. He chuckles heartily, bringing a limp hand to cup your chin.

"How did I get so lucky?" He sighs, running his thumb over your dampened lower lip. "Let me show you how lucky you are, yeah?" He grins deviously, pulling you up for a proper kiss.

masterlist <3

[1d1195]

Sun-Kissed I

Here is a fluffy/smutty little piece of love on the beach. It’s ~9k words. It’s a love at first sight kind of thing I know it’s kind of ridiculous for them to be falling in love so fast but it’s my story and I’m sticking with it. Also, sorry that I’m really into sunflowers right now. Sunflower Vol. 6 has been on my mind lately so that’s gonna make an appearance for the third time as of late. I don’t know if anyone else cares about all my little easter eggs regarding real life Harry in my writing but I’m really pretty proud of the news one I put in here. I'm sorry they're both teachers again I needed them to have summer's off to make this work. Their careers are not a major part of the story.

Warnings: There’s some pretty 18+ things happening here. Masturbating, public sex (kinda), thigh riding, etc. If you’re not into this, I wouldn’t read it. It's all fluff otherwise. There won't be a bit of angst.

I've been trying to write this for over a year and finally came pouring out. Unfortunately, there will be a second part next Thursday only because I thought it was getting too long. So it does end a little abruptly. Hope you enjoy anyway :)

Harry was fascinated by her, simply put. He wanted to spend forever at dinner with her. Chatting with her. Looking at her beautiful face. Envying how the sun got to kiss her, and he didn’t.

Harry didn’t grow up near a beach so he thought this would be great way to cash in on his vacation time over the summer. Sitting at the beach, reading a book, and dipping his toes in the water when it got too hot. His mum knew someone who knew someone who gave him a great deal on the summer rental, and he was beyond excited to sit and relax for the first time in years.

Being an earlier riser had its advantages. For one, he got the pick of where to set up his summer getaway on the beach. He brought a cooler, a chair, and a few towels along with a book or two to spend the day. Through his sunglasses, he faced the direction of the sunshine. He hadn’t had a proper summer holiday since he was young and now that he was busy teaching and had summer’s off, he was elated to have some time to himself.

Once he settled his belongings, he turned on a summer playlist he’d been working on for a while. He didn’t turn it up loud—he would never want to bother anyone that may join him on the beach—but it was loud enough to hear and not interrupt his imagination while reading.

It was utterly peaceful.

Apparently, Harry was unaware of just how truly peaceful the beach could be.

“Hey,” a voice said softly, it was sweet. A gentle shake on the arm, her skin was cool to the touch. His eyes blinked open unsurely. He realized he fell asleep and didn’t even get through the first page of his book. “Hi,” she whispered with a gentle smile. “You’re going to start burning,” she explained handing over a bottle of sunscreen to his hands while Harry tried to wake himself up. “And your book is in the sand,” she said grabbing it before the spine broke from all the grains of the beach ruining the binding.

“Oh,” he shook his head desperate for his brain to catch up to his surroundings. “Thanks,” he said gratefully.

“No problem!” She chirped heading back to the chair that was a few meters in front of him. “I already burned once this summer and it was miserable. Just don’t want you to suffer the same fate.”

He pushed open the bottle and started rubbing on the sunscreen. It felt like he was going to have a slight burn already. The relief of the lotion on his skin made him wary. “Ah, guess...I should probably leave,” he chuckled. “Try again tomorrow.”

“Oh...if you want to stay, I have an umbrella,” she said cheerfully. “S’a nice day, just give me a minute to set up,” she smiled and gave her name to Harry.

Harry had hardly gotten a good look at her with a sleepy set of eyes a bit wiped by the sun. His brain was foggy with the impromptu nap. This small little town he was staying in had the vibe that someone like her would help a stranger. Everyone had been so nice in the grocery store and when Harry went for his run yesterday, people said hello and commented on how nice the evening was. It was an adorable little town and Harry was already dreading having to leave in two weeks’ time.

“Well, thank you. M’Harry,” he said quietly while he finished rubbing the lotion over his body. He watched her work, his mind less foggy. Glancing at his watch, he noted it was a little over two hours since he arrived. It wasn’t too hot outside still, so his burn would be minor if he got one at all. With the addition of a blanket and the umbrella, it was almost a mirror image of Harry’s little set up. A chair, a cooler, and a couple towels.

She had a ponytail pulled through a baseball cap and she wore a button down, rolled to the elbows. The top few buttons were open revealing a deep blue bathing suit top, that scooped low enough to show off...

Harry had to be careful, or he was going to be sporting a prominent erection on a beach with a ton of families. He moved his gaze down past where he really wanted to look. The shirt came down to just above her knee and he saw a pair of flip flops discarded to the side of the blanket she had laid out in front of her stuff. “Nice day, huh?” She smiled as she twirled the umbrella stand into the sand.

“Tits—it’s really nice,” Harry said quickly stammering through his recovery.

Smooth.

She either didn’t notice his faux pas or didn’t care because she continued about her business. “Have you been here long?” She asked.

“Just arrived yesterday. Did some grocery shopping. Went for a jog.”

“Oh, how nice,” she had this infectious smile. Harry felt so happy just being around her. Or maybe it was the beautiful weather and the prettiest beach he had seen in years.

Or maybe it was her curvy figure that was making him lightheaded with happiness.

She pulled the shirt off finally, and Harry thought he might seriously need to leave. Head back for his little beach cottage to take care of blood rushing to his groin. She’s gorgeous. He thought to himself. “How ‘bout you?” He cleared his throat.

“I grew up here...and live here in the summer.”

He stared at her in surprise. “Here?” He asked.

She smiled and nodded. “It’s my favorite place on earth,” she explained.

“I can see why,” he nodded in appreciation. “Do you have any suggestions for while m’here?”

She nodded. “Plenty—how long are you here for?”

“Two weeks.”

“How lovely...let’s see...you’re at the beach—that’s most important in my opinion. I think if you stay here most of the time, you’ll have a successful vacation. There’s a place about twenty minutes from here where you can go clam digging if you like clams—I don’t really like them, but it’s fun to go. Paddleboarding on the river is also a really big thing. There’s this restaurant that everyone talks about. If you want, I know someone who works there, I could get you in. You’ll need a sweatshirt from the most touristy of tourist shops, but don’t go on a rainy day—everyone will be there. You’ll have to see the sunrise and the sunset. I think there’s a full moon too, so you’ll definitely want to see that over the ocean. I personally recommend ice cream and mini golf too. If you have time, you should also check out the nearby island. Even though this place is beautiful the island is like being in another country. It’s stunningly beautiful,” throughout her speech she continued working on the umbrella stand, putting the actual umbrella into place and tilting it back to create more shade.

Harry thought it would be really forward of him to invite her on all those adventures. Especially when someone as beautiful as she was surely had a significant other. Add in the fact he met her less than ten minutes ago; he would have seemed insane. “Wow, sounds like a packed schedule.”

She laughed and Harry swore he had never heard a sound as beautiful. She was still organizing her items and she gestured under the umbrella for Harry to move his stuff. “I’m really passionate about this place I forget people want to relax.”

“S’okay,” he chuckled. “You’re right t’be passionate. M’sure you’re right; I’ll make every effort t’do it all,” he promised and began moving his stuff below her umbrella. “Everyone is so nice here,” he told her. “Yourself included.”

“Why thank you,” she smiled sweetly and settled into her beach chair finally, facing the sun. He swore that someone this stunning couldn’t be real. She looked like a beach goddess—sun-kissed hair and skin. “What are you reading?” She asked, turning her head toward him covering the side of her face to keep the sun out of her eyes even though she wore sunglasses too.

He couldn’t even remember why he picked the book up. “Er...I fell asleep before finishing the first page,” he admitted shyly. She giggled.

“The beach does that, I swear. Something about total relaxation and the warm sun. I’m like a cat. Once I lay on my stomach, I’m out like a light.”

“Do you read?”

She nodded. “Have to; I’m a middle school teacher.”

“Oh,” Harry smiled. “I teach secondary.”

“No way!”

So, for the whole morning, Harry forgot about his book. Forgot about his playlist that was still going—except for anytime she asked what song was playing. They talked for literally three hours straight never once a lull in the conversation. Work, books, the beach, music, and anything they thought of. He told her about his family coming to visit for the weekend and she told him about her family who didn’t love this place as much as she did who would probably not visit—even if they missed her and loved her with everything in them.

At lunch they finally quieted their conversation to eat and watch the water. “I don’t see a burn,” she told him glancing over his face and skin as she finished her sandwich. He smiled.

“Thank you,” he said gratefully. “I’d be a proper crisp by now.”

She held the sunscreen out to him again. “I know this is a little weird, would you mind getting my upper back?” She asked.

Touch her? Harry didn’t have to be asked twice. Harry made sure to spray every bit of her skin. He didn’t want to be the reason she burned. As soft and beautiful as her skin was, Harry was glad she only asked to rub her back and shoulders. If he had to do her legs or any other part of her body, he definitely would have passed out.

She spread herself out on her blanket. Book near her face. “I’m so going to fall asleep,” she yawned. “Will you wake me if I start to burn?” She asked.

Harry nodded wordlessly and brought his book up toward his face. “Sure, love,” he murmured. Hopefully not showing how smitten he was with her already.

*

Harry might have wormed his way into her heart as her favorite person ever. It was so unlike her to wake a total stranger from a nap. But he was one of the most beautiful men she had ever seen in her life. She couldn’t imagine letting him roast in the sun all morning and ruining his vacation. It was even more unlike her to invite him to sit with her.

She liked to believe she was a kind soul—most everyone told her that she was, so it wasn’t unnatural for her to invite him to hang out with her. But if it wasn’t for the fact that Harry was a teacher, it could have been a lot more dicey.

It was so easy to talk to Harry. The entire morning was so much better than she ever expected just by being in his presence or chatting with him. Other than her reading-nap—where Harry woke her up after an hour so she could reapply another layer of sunscreen—they talked literally the whole day. Harry didn’t mind putting sunscreen on her and she returned the favor when they switched positions so Harry could get some on his back.

Touching him might be her new favorite pastime.

She left a bit before Harry wanting to go for a walk and shower before eating dinner and reading a bit on her porch. Plus, she had to pace herself if she was going to last at the beach all summer. After her shower, she put on an oversized shirt like she wore to the beach and a pair of shorts. It looked like she wasn’t wearing pants but didn’t mind. The sun finally crested the top of her cottage, so she was no longer baking in the sun and made the porch the loveliest little place to read and enjoy the evening. She had a bowl of watermelon chunks beside her, and sunglasses perched on her nose.

Growing up she never loved summer all that much. Of course, she loved the beach and the time off from school, but she started working part time when she was fourteen and summer never had the same feeling as it did when she was young until she started teaching. Now she would tutor virtually some nights throughout the summer—especially for college students taking summer courses. But mostly she spent her time here in the little beach cottage her grandma had specifically named to her in her will after she saw how much she cared for it—especially since she was the only one in her family who had summers off and still cared about this little town. Once her grandma passed away, no one really felt the need to stay—her parents sold the home she grew up in. It wasn’t brokenly tragic that her grandma died—she was old, and these things happened. Besides, she felt by being in the little town she grew up in and living in the cottage left to her was enough to live her summers in honor of her grandmother.

Her mother technically owned the other cottage her grandmother had and while her mom really wanted to sell it, she insisted she would take care of it while she was here and tend to any renters.

Which is why her mother texted her at least once a week about the renter at the cottage just three houses down the road. Our renter said there’s only one towel. Any ideas?

She gasped wondering how it slipped her mind to take the towels out of the dryer and fold them neatly into the bathroom linen closet. On it. She responded and practically ran down the road. She knocked on the door to her second home away from home and waited for the person on the other side to answer. While waiting she noticed the little sign below the main window was crooked—fell off the hook again in the ocean wind. She needed to remember to bring a pair of pliers back to close the loop the next time she came over.

The two cottages were almost identical. Except this door was a sea blue and hers was a sea green. They were little wooden cottages, shingled top to bottom. Just two windows at the front of the house, two on the back, and one on each side. There were two skylights in the roof allowing for lots of natural light. Each home had two small bedrooms, a bathroom, a spacious sitting area and full kitchen. They were wall to wall hardwood floors even though her Grandma in the 70s tried very hard to convince everyone it needed carpeting. But try vacuuming sand out of a beach cottage all the time. Due to space behind the home, hers had a little patio but this one was fitted with a little patio and an outdoor shower.

The blue door opened while she was still putting the wood block that read Sea View back in it’s place. “Uh...hello?” He asked. She turned to find Harry, surprise all across his face, to see the girl he met earlier outside his rental.

Of course it was Harry. “Oh, how funny!” She chirped excited to see the gorgeous man from the beach once more—her plan right now was to not-so-casually run into him at the beach again the next day. “I should have asked where you were renting!”

He smirked. “Hi love,” he said sweetly, confused that she was here. “Uh...what are you doing here?”

“My family owns this cottage,” she explained. “Mom texted me that you don’t have towels? That’s my fault. Left them in the dryer when I was cleaning on turnover day. I’ll fold them now,” she said and marched herself inside and maneuvered through the familiar room with ease.

“Oh,” Harry said. “S’okay, love. I didn’t mean t’bother you—I would have found them eventually—”

“Absolutely not, it’s your vacation! You deserve clean towels and not have to worry about looking for things,” she was already piling the fluffy array of sea blue and green towels out of the dryer and began folding them expertly. “I’m going to leave you my number so if you need anything you can just ask me. I always tell her to just give them my number, but she worries about weirdos taking advantage of me,” she rolled her eyes.

What would possess me to say that to Harry?

He smiled as he watched her flurry of activity. Her rambling little monologue. She was definitely scaring him. It occurred to her at that moment she didn’t even wait to be invited into his space. Just strode right in. “Glad m’not a weirdo. I agree with y’mum. Think I would like her,” he nodded firmly.

She felt her face warm, and she hoped the tan hid the blush as much as possible. Harry’s nose and cheeks looked a bit red—like he caught a bit of a cold. The rest of his body was covered by a simple pair of jogging shorts and a simple t-shirt so she couldn’t see if he burned and also didn’t want to be caught staring at him—especially thinking about the abs he had on display under the litany of tattoos she saw earlier at the beach. “Well, I will fold these and get out of your hair,” she said focusing on the towels. But her brain glitched out once more. “Oh, do you like surfing?” She asked.

He chuckled leaning against the frame of the door leading to this utility room. “Only been once with a group of m’friends. S’not m’cup of tea. M’not very good.”

“Oh, okay. I just want to make sure I recommend everything you might like.”

He was smirking at her like she was a bit crazy—and she was—but Harry wasn’t helping. Without sunglasses she saw he had green eyes. Green. She was done before this even started. Once all the towels were folded, she made herself at home once more, hurrying to the bathroom to put all the towels in place. The bathroom smelled like men’s cologne: sandalwood and sage. Jesus Christ it’s like he was built in a lab for me.

Harry followed her as she put the towels away in an alternating pattern. “Thank you,” he said. “Y’really didn’t need t’do all that.”

“You’re the guest. You paid to get this kind of service,” she reminded him. “I’m also...only three houses down if you need something as well. It’s got a sign like yours below the window Sun-Kissed Cabana. My grandma named them.”

He nodded and stared at her for a few moments. She had only known Harry for all of five hours, but she could swear she knew his thoughts. He probably did think she was a bit crazy. “Do...do y’have plans for dinner?”

She felt her heart flutter. She was going to order her favorite pesto pasta dish from a local place that practically recognized her voice when she called. “Uh...no.”

“Would y’like t’go out with me in ‘bout an hour?” He asked.

She nodded eagerly. “Yes, please.”

*

She was finishing up her makeup when her phone vibrated with a second message from Harry. The first one was to alert her who was messaging Hiii, it’s Harry Xx. Followed by: Does this place have a fancy dress code?

No, no. Nothing fancy at all! They’ve def got a beach bar vibe.

Cool :) I’m ready when you are.

Shit. She wanted to curl her hair a bit and look extra nice but maybe that would have looked like she was trying too hard after she just got through telling him it wasn’t a fancy place. She had on a maxi dress. Black top nothing revealing and then the skirt pattern had sunflowers all over it. She would have to forgo the curls and instead pushed the front of her hair back with a headband. Just need like five more minutes.

I’m in no rush, love. Please take your time Xx.

She thought she was going to melt. Fortunately, her tanned skin hid most of the imperfections of her face. She also preferred maxi dresses because it hid the thickness of her thighs and more imperfections like bumps from shaving and bruises from whacking herself on her beach chair. She thought the style she chose also perfectly accentuated the curve of her waist. While it didn’t show off her cleavage—it was her personal belief her boobs were one of her better assets—she thought after a day at the beach with them on full display due to her bathing suit, dinner might be a little gentler without them in Harry’s face the whole time.

With a spritz of her perfume and gathering all her necessary belongings into her purse, slid on her favorite pair of sandals with gold brushed embellishments, and headed outside. There wasn’t really a discussion of how they would get there, but she decided to walk down the road back to Sea View. Harry was crouched by the sign, pliers in hand closing the very loop she said she would. “Oh, I’m sorry. You didn’t have to do that,” she said hurriedly feeling like a terrible hostess.

He turned and smiled at her. “No worries, love. S’easy. Jus’ found some pliers in the utility closet.”

“Well, thank you,” she murmured gratefully. Harry stood, putting the pliers just inside the doorway before locking it with the passcode. He turned to her.

“Is this place walking distance, or should I drive us?” He asked. His hair was fluffed in these beautiful chocolate waves that of course reminded her of the beach but made her want to bury her hands in it and kiss his perfect face until she was out of breath.

“Uh,” she didn’t think she wanted to walk in a dress, but maybe that was the experience of this vacation for him. Harry looked utterly comfortable but perfect (naturally) in a pair of navy-blue khaki shorts and grey short sleeve button down. The lack of sleeves showed off those tattoos that she was continuously falling for. On his feet he wore a pair of light grey sneakers. “We can walk, but it might take me a while in a dress and sandals.”

“Oh shit, of course. What m’I saying? Y’can’t walk in a pretty dress like that,” he said hurrying to the car and opening the passenger side. “After you, love. Jus’ need t’tell me the directions,” he smiled at her.

All the books she had brought to her summer vacation had a romantic flare to them. Her only thought was there should be a book written about this very day—meeting Harry at the beach and going on a date with him. It was impractical and a bit flighty of her to be so taken with him already.

But there was no way she could help it when he got in the driver’s seat, smiled at her with those dreamy dimples and his eyes twinkled at her behind those pretty lashes of his. “Y’look gorgeous, love.”

*

It was effortless how much he enjoyed her company. The idea that it was only his first full day and he had already had a good beach day and another good jog under his belt. The post-beach-and-jog shower was cold-watered but steamy as he thought of the pretty girl in her pretty bathing suit. He imagined her smile, the gentle curve of her lips as he wrapped his hand around his cock as the water cooled off his sweaty and warm skin for several minutes until he was finally relieved of seeing her...assets at the beach.

Seeing her immediately after he inquired about the lack of towels as soon as he had shorts on was like a dream. Her agreeing to dinner with a beautiful girl was not what he expected when he booked this trip six months ago. Only one day in and this was the best vacation he had ever been on.

They arrived at the restaurant and after searching through the menu in silence, they placed drinks and an appetizer to share.

Did he mention how effortless this all was? The conversation was once more not a moment of dullness. She was funny, beautiful, kind, and it seemed that everyone at the restaurant knew her at least a little bit. “Our sun-kissed angel is here!” A man shouted from across the patio where they were seated. Everyone turned to follow the gaze of the man and Harry smirked instead of being jealous because he was right. She was an angel. A tanned, lovely, gorgeous angel.

She rolled her eyes. “Harry, this is my friend Louis. I used to work here in the summer.”

“Before she went off an got a real job, like a traitor.”

Harry was fascinated by her, simply put. He wanted to spend forever at dinner with her. Chatting with her. Looking at her beautiful face. Envying how the sun got to kiss her, and he didn’t.

*

“Okay, well...we can’t not get ice cream,” she said knowingly.

“You just told the waiter you were too full for dessert,” he chuckled at her.

“You don’t get dessert at a restaurant when there are literally seven different ice cream shops within spitting distance,” she rolled her eyes. “Summer is for ice cream. If we hurry, we can see a sunset too.”

“Y’sure know how t’get the most out of a summer day.”

She frowned. “Oh...I’m sorry. I forget that you only have two weeks. We don’t have to. We can head back,” she said softly. “I’m sorry.”

“No, not at all, love. S’a great idea,” he reached out across the console and rested his hand on her thigh near her knee. With the long dress covering her legs, it wasn’t terribly inappropriate, but it was so instinctive to reach out and touch her he felt he made a mistake when she was suddenly speechless. Unable to tell Harry where to go to get her precious ice cream. “Er...sorry,” he said pulling his hand back to rest on the gearshift between them. “Should have asked,” he felt his face warm in embarrassment.

“N-no, it’s okay,” she nodded quickly. Her voice was breathy as she stammered. “I was...” She shook her head. “You can touch me—I mean,” she put a hand over her face in embarrassment at the encouragement she just gave him. Harry decided to quickly put her out of her misery—he did say tits after looking at her for thirty seconds this morning, even if she didn’t hear it. He gave her leg a gentle squeeze as he moved his hand back to where it was. She was silent again once more and she rested one hand over his. Letting a few of her fingers fill the space between his but not twining them fully together. “Is this okay?” She asked softly.

Harry melted over her sweetness. “Perfect.”

*

They ate their ice cream on the beach sitting on the tall, white lifeguard stand since it was late. There was a smattering of running kids, a few dogs, and families littered closer to the water on the tidal flats. But no one was over where they were. Up on the soft sand encroaching on the dunes. They chatted in between licks and bites of ice cream and Harry was certain he was falling deeper and deeper in love with her by the millisecond. It was ridiculous. Love at first sight couldn’t possibly be real. He had three or four serious girlfriends (four if you counted his junior high love affair, three if you didn’t) all of whom he did fall in love with but over the course of weeks and months. Not minutes and hours. Maybe it was the salt air playing with his brain chemistry.

Certainly, it had something to do with the beautiful girl sitting so close to him he could feel her sun-kissed skin warming him from the gentle breeze floating off the water as the sun started its descent over the horizon. She took her phone from her purse and snapped a picture quickly. Hardly looked at it, barely centered it, yet it was the most beautiful sunset picture he’d ever seen.

“Are y’a photographer in y’free time?” He asked.

She snorted. “No, I do like taking pictures. But I have hundreds of these,” she said showing him the photo album of various sunset pictures she had taken over the years. Harry could see why she was so good at them. No two pictures looked alike which had to be a poem somewhere out there. Harry always considered himself a winter—growing up in cold England would do that to a person—and no two snowflakes were alike. Snowflakes had nothing on her sunsets.

“D’you want t’take a picture together?” He asked quietly.

She smirked. “Do I have chocolate on my face?” She wrinkled her nose at him.

Chuckling, he shook his head. “No,” he promised. Harry wrapped an arm around her waist pulling her snuggly against him. “S’this okay?” he asked almost directly into her ear. She nodded and smiled as she flipped her camera around to selfie mode. Harry had one arm around her waist, the other holding his ice cream cone. She reached her arm out to take the picture while she held her cup of ice cream in her lap with the other. Gazing at her screen, Harry couldn’t believe how effortless it felt to touch her. It was so easy to talk to her. And they looked like the perfect beach couple. “Can y’send that to me?” He murmured in her ear once more. She nodded mutely. Harry didn’t remove his arm from around her waist and he continued eating his ice cream.

Once finished with their treat, they continued chatting and watching the sunset listening to the laughter of families on the beach. The sky was so pretty Harry thought that she was right. This was the best place on earth.

*

They walked back to their cottages hand in hand, Harry stopping outside the door for the place labeled Sun-Kissed Cabana. “S’that why Louis calls you a sun-kissed angel?”

She rolled her eyes. “He’s something else.”

Harry chuckled. Leaned forward and swept his lips on the apple of her cheek. “I had the perfect first day with you, love,” he said softly. “Sleep well,” he hummed and turned to walk three houses down. She pressed a hand on her cheek like a lovesick idiot. She nearly forgot the code to get into her own house and felt like floating all the way to her room where she giggled and kicked across her bed as she smiled into her pillow.

*

The next three days were spent almost the same as the first. The beach: complete with reading, naps, and lots of talking to the pretty girl he liked so much already. Followed by a run, a shower, and then dinner. Harry tried really hard not to touch her without asking. The only allowance he gave himself to touch her without asking was when he truly felt like her back was getting a little singed. On the second day she made the grilled chicken salad she told Harry she was going to make before he invited her to dinner, but once he informed her he was a pescetarian she hurried to the store to get him some fish to grill instead. It was totally unnecessary, and Harry felt guilty she spent money on him like that for dinner (even though he was insistent he pay for dinner and ice cream the first night). Regardless, it was a delicious salad paired with zucchini noodles that truly tasted just like pasta. Harry made her write the recipe down for him.

“I can’t run at all,” she wrinkled her nose when Harry offered to join her on her evening walk the following day.

“I’d rather walk with y’then, love,” he said softly with a smile. “If y’want company, that is.”

She wanted to say she wanted Harry’s company. But thought that was a bit too much. But they walked side by side, Harry gently ushering her to the inside of the road without making any fuss about it. They continued their comfortable chattering. Talking of anything and everything. That night they ordered pizza that was delivered to Sea View and watched a movie in his living room, her feet in his lap where he rubbed the soles of her aching feet without prompting or full acknowledgement.

By the end of the third day, she thought Harry might be her best friend. He made crispy cauliflower tacos. He spent the evening simply reading on her back porch with her in comfortable, perfect silence.

*

The fourth day, they were sitting on her back porch again, sipping bubbly wine spritzers that she put in glasses of ice and combined with a popsicle to match the flavors. Harry thought it was sinful the way she licked the pop. Harry wanted to jump her bones so very badly.

“How do you like the outdoor shower?” She asked looking up at the sky full of stars. There was a citronella candle between them to keep the bugs away and she had a solar set of lights strung about her little patio. She was in a soft warm glow from the lights. Once more, looking sun kissed. She was wearing a shorter dress than the other day, shorts beneath it. She informed him about the shorts because she said it was an athletic-type dress and she may have sat weird and didn’t want to make him uncomfortable.

Harry thought there wasn’t anything she could do to make him uncomfortable.

“I haven’t used it, actually. M’not sure I—”

She made an almost inhuman noise, a cross between a growl and gasp. It was quite adorable even if she seemed miffed and Harry wished he could have recorded the sound because he thought he would listen to it on loop for the rest of forever. “Harry!” She almost shouted. “The sole reason I took Sun-Kissed Cabana over Sea View was because I knew the outdoor shower would be a huge selling point for renters. You haven’t used it?” She looked nearly betrayed.

He chuckled, sipping his drink. “M’sorry, love. I didn’t realize—”

“Harry, I’m not kidding. You have to go use it. Like right now.”

He laughed loudly. If there could possibly be a downside of this little beach-cottage neighborhood, it would be that the houses were quite close, and Harry’s loud laughter could probably be heard back at his own place. But she was staring at him seriously. He thought she really expected him to get up and leave at this moment so he could get this experience.

“Y’serious?” He asked smirking at her.

“I don’t joke about the outdoor shower,” she promised him.

Finishing his popsicle and taking the last sips of his drink he stood from her little patio table and shook his head with a chuckle at her. “I guess m’going.”

He wanted to invite her. Especially if she didn’t have one here at Cabana. It sounded like she would like it more. “You better,” she continued licking the pop and Harry was grateful he would at least have a new image to think about in the outdoor shower when he imagined his hand around his dick was her mouth instead.

*

The air was cool but somehow warm. Sort of like the water on his skin. He could see the draw and actually surprised himself that he hadn’t used the shower yet. He imagined in the morning it would be heaven—most of his showers had been in the afternoon or evening since he was running at that time. But maybe he could take two showers a day—who cared? He was on vacation.

Was it heavenly? Her message read.

Harry thought about how much how active his imagination got picturing her in that shower with him, his hand fisting over himself until he imagined her pretty cleavage covered in him instead of flowing with the water down the drain. Extremely. But of course, he left out why it was so heavenly. You should write a book of recommendations for your guests.

:) You can come back over if you want. I know I kind of kicked you out, but like I said. I’m very serious about outdoor showers.

Chuckling to himself, he hurried to get dressed again and meet her back there.

*

She knew Harry’s family was coming today so she told him that she would give him all kinds of space but if he needed anything, he was not to hesitate to ask her. “M’mum and sister would love t’meet you, kitten,” he promised. He didn’t mean to call her kitten. But it rolled off the tongue so effortlessly and she was the one who said she felt like a cat in the sun. But he didn’t spend long thinking about it and continued his little speech. “Y’don’t have t’evade us.”

“I’m sure you want family time,” she promised. “Really, it’s fine. Plus, we’ll have a whole other week to do our little routine,” she felt her face warm as she spoke realizing she just told Harry she wanted to spend the remainder of his vacation together. She opened her mouth to backtrack almost instantly, but Harry beat her to the punch before she could speak again.

Given that Harry was this close to telling her he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, another full week spent together seemed like a great idea. “I can’t wait,” he promised.

They decided to do a sunrise that morning. She brought a blanket and was wrapped up in a long sleeve shirt along with a pair of sweatpants. She advised Harry to do the same. “The air is still cool from the night when you get to the beach early,” she explained the night before they parted to go to bed.

They were laying on the blanket angled by the natural slope of the dunes so they could see the view of the sun cresting on the ocean horizon. “Do y’have as many sunrise pictures?” He asked tiredly. With the sun rising at just after five-thirty she was courteous and kind in asking that they get there at five so they could see the dawn and array of beautiful colors painting the sky before the sun got there.

She giggled. “No way. Too early to see it that many times. I do like sunrises more, though,” she said. “It’s so much quieter. It’s not as hot. I don’t know. I think sunrises are just so beautiful.”

He immediately, silently agreed with her that they were. No matter how much he was enjoying sunsets with her. He would wake up at 4:45 every day if it meant watching something she found beautiful, and it made her happy. Harry had her pulled to his side again, his arm looped beneath the back of her neck. His eyes were closed as he fiddled with a strand of her hair running his fingers through the soft tendrils. “Harry,” she whispered after a few minutes. Harry felt the edges of sleep and the dreamworld starting to meld together on his brain. “You’re gonna miss it,” her voice was so gentle. Perfect for morning. She was the most beautiful thing he had laid eyes on but he couldn't bring himself to open them right now.

“Hmm,” he hummed. Refusing to open his eyes. “S’okay. We can see it another day,” he mumbled.

She giggled. “Harry,” she whispered so gently. It felt like magic. Warmth spread through his whole body. “We woke up so early,” she reminded him.

He nodded. “M’sorry,” he sighed. “It’s so peaceful,” he muttered. “You’re warm,” he turned his face to bury his nose in her hair and he nuzzled closer to her. Harry being a cuddler didn’t surprise her. He was quite touchy. But this sent her heart into a frenzy, and she forgot why they were there.

“Harry,” she whispered again feeling brave. Maybe because it was too early, and her brain wasn’t functioning.

“Jus’ lemme sleep, kitten. Please?” He muttered into her hair. “Wake me in twenty-nine minutes.”

She swallowed. “But...I want to kiss you,” she sounded so shy.

Harry’s eyes sprung open, and he pulled back from her quickly to look at her beautiful, perfect face. “M’awake,” he promised and gently cupped her cheeks, his fingers slipping through her hair, and he brought her face closer to his. Kissing her like he had been dreaming about over the last five days was the only thing on his mind.

She moaned against his mouth and Harry was really looking forward to that outdoor shower now. She pressed against him, keening as she licked into his mouth, sucking on his lower lip. Driving him absolutely mad as she nipped at his lip gently with her teeth. She could feel herself squeezing her thighs together for relief because she was finally kissing Harry the way she wished she did at sunset on his first night here.

Harry’s hands were cool against her flushed cheeks. “Kitten,” he hummed against her mouth, pecking at her like he would die without her kisses. “Y’taste so good,” he sighed dreamily.

She rolled to her side to face him squarely while he returned to his side too, instead of hovering over her. He wrapped his arm around her waist pulling her against him. Over the past four days at the beach, she had tried really hard not to stare at whatever was going on in Harry’s swimsuit, so she didn’t look like a sex-maniac. But there was no way she could ignore the hard dick she felt against her thigh as she pressed against the full length of his body. She imagined Harry fucking her so hard in that outdoor shower that the neighbors would have no way of ignoring what was happening. She moaned at the idea once more against his lips, thighs pressing together.

“Oh no,” he hummed. If she wasn’t already so drunk in love with Harry after one date and four days together, she might have thought his voice sounded a bit mocking. Slowly, he rolled onto his back holding onto her and perching her body on top of him as he did. One of his legs separated her thighs apart. “Do y’need something from me, love?” He cooed almost lovingly at the idea she was aching between her legs. He kept her pulled down toward him so he could continue kissing her, effectively melting all coherent thought.

Holy shit, his voice. Oh my God.

Without meaning to, she clenched her legs once more, this time, wrapped around Harry’s thigh causing friction, despite two layers of sweatpants and her underwear (at least those were thin). “N-no,” she almost whimpered trying to get away from his leg. Harry put his hands on her hips and gently pressed her back down toward him while bending his knee a bit. His thigh came closer in contact with her so if she wanted to, she could rub right against him.

“Y’sure, love? You look like y’might need something,” his voice was so sultry. It was too early for this. His eyes were somehow a deeper green. His lips were too pink after kissing her.

“N-no,” she shook her head despite wanting nothing more than to grind her pelvis against his thigh. She knew what it looked like beneath the sweatpants. She knew the tattoos that dotted his skin. Fuck, she wanted to get herself off so bad. But she was acutely aware of her position and tried to lift herself off his leg. “I-I think m’too heavy,” she stammered again.

He groaned and pulled her tighter against his leg. “No way, angel,” he promised. “Go ahead, know y’want to. I want y’to,” his voice was a bit husky. Like he was a bit confused. She groaned softly. God she wanted to. “That’s it,” he encouraged as she ground herself against him.

She felt flush, wishing she wasn’t wearing sweatpants. They were getting in the way. The long sleeve shirt was making her warmer. Or maybe it was Harry that was making her warm. Harry helped shift her hips back and forth against his leg as she moaned and whimpered as she rutted against his thigh. “Y’look so pretty, kitten,” he cooed. “Getting off on m’thigh like that. S’making me so hard, love. Fuck,” he moaned. “You’re s’pretty.”

She continued creating friction on between the two of them worried she would give herself a burn from all the fabric rubbing together but she was so fucking wet she was certain she would slide easily against him if she could take her pants off in public. The sun was still rising, not quite up over the horizon yet, but the sky was brighter, creating a gorgeous image of her beautiful body silhouetted from the light. “S’good, so good, baby,” he groaned. She whined and continued rutting herself against him.

“Harry,” she croaked.

“Yeah, love? Y’gonna come for me? Gonna come from jus’ m’thigh?”

Jesus Christ, she felt like she was a virgin. She was almost certain she was. Had she ever even had an orgasm before Harry? When was the last time she had sex? When was the last time she masturbated? Holy shit. This was bad. He was all consuming and he was fully clothed, and it was just his thigh.

She nodded at his words. Even though she felt a bit silly and stupid for doing this, with two layers of sweatpants between them. “Yeah? Good, want y’to. Y’look so pretty all—”

“Fucking hell,” she whimpered and dropped her face to his chest as she twitched against him. Harry flexed his muscle, gripping her hips and rubbing her against him so he could help her ride out the waves of her orgasm for a few moments. After that, Harry dropped his knee once more, letting her flatten against him. He kissed her forehead as she breathed heavily against him, shaky and sighing as she let the euphoria course through her. He rubbed up and down her back as she did, and he breathed deeply into her hair. She smelled like sunscreen and coconut.

“I really like sunrises,” he murmured. She smirked. Her face against his chest. “Y’sleepy, now, kitten?”

She nodded. “Yeah,” her voice was a bit quiet. Almost unsure. “Sorry,” she mumbled, nuzzling her face against his shirt.

He shook his head, kissing the top of her hair once more. “Don’t be sorry. Been thinking ‘bout y’coming all over me since I met you.”

She giggled. “Yeah?”

Maybe he shouldn’t have said that. It wasn’t very...flattering on his part. It also made it sound like he only liked her for the idea of sex. Which wasn’t the case. He liked her so much simply because she was the sweetest, nicest person he had had the pleasure of meeting for a really long time.

She rolled off him. He kind of hated it because even though it wasn’t freezing cold, it felt like it now that she wasn’t laying on his body. She looked at the outline of the bulge stretching against his gray sweatpants. It was still ten minutes until the sun would be touching the horizon. “Fair’s fair, yeah?” She wondered, looking up at him and then back down at the somehow growing outline. She would be lucky if he fit in her mouth.

“Angel, y’don’t have to jus’ because—”

She frowned. “Do...you not want me to?” She wondered, confused and worried that he was rejecting her. She didn’t know why if he had just used her thigh to get him off.

“No, no,” he said quickly wanting to ease the worry he saw fill her beautiful face. God he would rather die than reject her. “I mean...y’can do whatever y’want to m’body,” he nodded eagerly. “Jus’ don’t want you t’think you have to. Been thinking ‘bout—” his voice choked off as she outlined the bulge. “Oh...s’nice,” he moaned forgetting everything he was saying about what she could do to him. Her fingertip simply ran along absent-minded paths along his length. He struggled to remember the last time he had sex because he could only imagine the episode in the outdoor shower as the last time he orgasmed.

She giggled. “Nice?” She questioned; Harry was so polite. The way he walked with her on the inside of the road, the way he held her door open no matter if they were going in the house or the car, or if he simply carried her heavy cooler off the beach even though he was carrying his own belongings. For him to say it was nice the way she was touching his dick was simply...something else.

He nodded breathlessly. “Yeah,” he was already too far gone with just her goddamn finger touching him. He couldn’t have made any comment further if he wanted to. He moaned as she squeezed gently along the length of him. Five minutes till sunrise and the beach would be covered in light. She glanced around quickly, seeing they were still alone. She had never done this in the five years she had been staying the summer back in town keeping an eye on Sea View while living in Sun-Kissed Cabana.

“Do you think I could make you come in five minutes?” She whispered.

He groaned almost animalistically. “Love, I think y’could make me come in forty-five seconds,” he promised. And with that, she dipped her head toward his waist just until the sun was ready to cross over the horizon.

*

It was quite difficult not to text Harry all day long while his family visited. It was entirely due to having an orgasm at his hand (thigh); the creeping need to bond to the person who just made her entire world flip upside down was a prominent feeling throughout her body the whole day. The words of her book didn’t make any sense, so she opted for cleaning her bathroom. But that proved to be difficult too, and she spilled most of the mop water back onto the floor. After another fit of cleaning that up, she decided to spend her time at the grocery store since she was getting dangerously low on her much-needed items. She nearly forgot to go to the checkout line. After putting everything away she thought about just going to bed at three in the afternoon just to rid her mind of how crazy she was being and how awkwardly she missed her summer guy.

Fortunately, Harry broke first, before she fell asleep.

I know it’s silly, but I miss you terribly.

She felt so much relief reading his message. Oh, thank God. Me too.

You really should just come over. Mum and Gemma want to meet you. I won’t shut up about you. It’s...a bit pathetic how obsessed I sound actually. Mum’s in the outdoor shower while Gemma is taking pictures of the beach. We’re going to have dinner in a bit—you should join us. He put this shy little emoji after his message.

She was currently dressed in a pair of bike shorts and t-shirt that fell past her hips, barely a strip of the shorts showed. She had her hair pulled back by a claw clip. She wanted to go over there immediately. However, her outfit and hair did not look ready to meet Harry’s family. Plus, she was worried she would do something stupid like sit in Harry’s lap in front of his mother and sister and then she would have to jump out a window to hide her infatuation.

I would love to, but really...I’m sure they want to see you.

They want to ‘meet the girl that’s got me all flustered’ that I nearly dropped all our snack bar food in the sand today :)

She giggled. Glad he was also affected by their sunrise romp in the sand. Maybe tomorrow? She hedged instead. She really didn’t want to intrude.

Please, love. That would be wonderful.

*

She must have fallen asleep anyway. But she woke up to a knock at her door. She felt the claw clip sliding out of the back of her hair and she rubbed her eye as she made her way over. There stood Harry and two women outside the screen door. Each of them was holding a dish of (presumably) food. Immediately, she felt underdressed and stupid looking. “Uh, hey beautiful,” he smiled gently. “Sorry t’bother you. But seems the barbeque back there is out of gas,” he explained. “I sent y’a text—”

“Harry, the poor girl was sleeping,” his mother admonished. “I told you we could just go out to eat. Love, m’so sorry. I swear some days he was raised in a barn!” She shook her head. “We’ll leave you be.”

“No, no,” she shook her head quickly, the clip clattering from the ends of her hair to the floor. She felt her face warm, once more grateful for the tan skin to hide most of the blush rushing to her cheeks. She opened the door for them to enter and quickly swept the clip into her hands. “Make yourselves at home,” she said, and Harry ushered his mother toward the kitchen and out the back door toward the patio and grill. Gemma walked slower behind her family to give some reassurance to the girl who was struggling to fix her hair in the little entry way mirror.

“M’sorry about both of them in advance,” Gemma whispered. “Harry hasn’t been able to function normally all day and Mum is already in love with you. When you didn’t answer, it was the first coherent thought Mum had about not begging to see you and thus began Harry pacing waiting all of four minutes for your response before he said we could just come over like absolute lunatics.”

Oh God she liked Gemma. “Thank you. I’m so sorry I look like this,” she winced at the image of her reflection. She was all frizz and pillow lines from the couch where she fell asleep.

She snorted. “Please, we interrupted your evening. Your quiet time and relaxation. Don’t worry about it. You look beautiful,” she promised pressing a hand on her arm and headed after her brother and mother.

If she wasn't already--which she was pretty sure she was--Harry’s lovely little family was going to ensure she fell so hopelessly and terribly in love with Harry.

--

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