#again thank you for these tags! they were so lovely!!
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er1nne · 2 days ago
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the interview with drew goes viral (do not copy or plagarize, original work)
Your phone buzzed incessantly on the coffee table, notifications pouring in like a tidal wave. You had been trying to ignore them, focusing instead on the lukewarm coffee sitting untouched next to your laptop. But every time your gaze strayed to the screen, that unmistakable thumbnail glared back at you: Drew Starkey’s Red Carpet Interview Goes Viral.
You reached for your phone hesitantly, chewing on your bottom lip as your thumb hovered over the video. It wasn’t like you hadn’t already seen it—you’d watched it at least five times since it went live just hours ago. And yet, the views were climbing at an almost alarming rate.
1.8M views. 2.3M views. 2.9M views.
Your stomach flipped as you opened the video again. The screen flickered to life, and there you were, standing under the bright lights of the red carpet, microphone in hand, smiling up at Drew Starkey like you’d just won the lottery.
“Drew,” your recorded voice greeted, a bit too bright, a bit too eager. “Welcome. How does it feel to be here tonight?”
The video cut to Drew, his piercing blue eyes and easy smile capturing the camera—and apparently, millions of viewers. “It feels surreal,” he said in his calm, measured tone. “Like stepping into a moment that’s bigger than me.”
Bigger than him? The comment section certainly didn’t think so.
You reluctantly scrolled down, unable to stop yourself from diving into the chaos:
• “THE WAY HE LOOKS AT HER. HELLO?!” • “Girl, you’re me. I’m you. We’re all the same.” • “Drew Starkey calling this interviewer good at her job and smiling like that??? ” • “Her laugh at the end!! She’s so flustered but trying to keep it together.”
You groaned, burying your face in your free hand. “Flustered” didn’t even begin to cover it. Watching the interview now, with the clarity of hindsight, made you cringe in the most infuriatingly embarrassing way. You hadn’t just been professional—you’d been fangirling.
It wasn’t that you didn’t love your job—you did. Interviewing actors and being part of the glittering world of film was your dream. But there was something about Drew Starkey that had completely unraveled you. Maybe it was the way he spoke, thoughtful and deliberate. Or the way his eyes lingered, like he was seeing past the bright lights and chaos to something more grounded. Or maybe it was the way his hand had brushed against your elbow when he leaned in, sending a shiver down your spine that you still couldn’t quite shake.
You glanced back at the video, biting your lip as the final moments replayed.
“By the way,” Drew said, his voice quieter now, leaning in just slightly, “you’re good at this.”
Your recorded laugh was a little too soft, a little too nervous. “Well, thank you,” you’d replied, the words nearly catching in your throat.
The camera lingered on him as he walked away, and you swore you could see him glance back at you, just for a moment.
You closed the video, tossing your phone onto the couch beside you. “It’s just a clip,” you muttered, trying to convince yourself. “People are overreacting.”
But even as you said it, another notification popped up on your laptop, this time from Instagram. You opened the app, scrolling aimlessly through the flurry of tagged posts and stories from the event. And then you saw it.
Drew Starkey had liked the video.
He liked the video.
Your breath caught, your heart leaping into your throat as you stared at the tiny heart icon next to his name. He hadn’t commented, hadn’t reached out—but that single like was enough to set your nerves alight.
You picked up your phone again, scrolling back through the comments on the video. People were analyzing everything—your body language, the way you laughed, the way Drew looked at you like you were the only person on that carpet.
• “No, but seriously, he’s into her, right? RIGHT?!” • “I’m not saying they have chemistry, but they have CHEMISTRY.” • “Lord when is it my turn.”
You exhaled sharply, setting your phone down with more force than necessary. Your thoughts raced as you paced the small living room, the memory of Drew’s gaze replaying in your mind like a broken record. Was it all in your head? The playful teasing, the subtle almost-touches, the way his smile had softened just before he walked away?
It was his job to charm people. He did this all the time. And yet…
You couldn’t ignore the warmth in his eyes when he’d said, “You’re good at this,” or the way his hand had lingered just a second too long when it brushed against yours. It hadn’t felt like part of the act—it had felt real.
And now the whole world had noticed, too.
You sat back on the couch, groaning softly as you buried your face in your hands. “What am I supposed to do with this?” you muttered, though no one was there to answer.
Your phone buzzed again, another wave of comments flooding in. This was going to be a long week.
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yelenasbraid · 1 day ago
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none of the bullshit — joe burrow
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summary — you’re an athletic trainer with the bengals. joe’s taken a liking to you.
warnings — fem!reader, fluff, some good ol’ banter, implied smut, language, i sort of know what i’m talking about pls don’t come for me
tags — @wickedfun9 @softburrow @starsinthesky5 @joeburrowshaircurl @joeyfranchise @willowsnook @ebsmind @iosivb9 @blairsworld22 @kazsbrckkers
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IT WAS COLD. Earlier, you were begging for the colder weather. The summer heat was no joke, but now, the colder winters were biting. You stood out on the practice field, layered up as best you could, keeping your eye on the players.
You were an athletic trainer for the Bengals, a damn good one you’d add. You had to put up with a lot of bullshit over the past couple of years, especially with a certain quarterback.
flashback to the summer
“This is the third time I’ve done this, Y/N. How is this helping me get anywhere?” Joe was frustrated. You’ve asked him to throw the ball the exact same way, three different times. It was his first time throwing after his injury and you were being cautious.
“You want to get out there and snap your wrist again?” You shot back, the summer heat beating down on the both of you. You didn’t have time for his complaints or his nonsense.
“No, but throwing ten yards isn’t going to do much,”
“You think I’m stupid? I know that. It’s called we’ll get there,” you chirped. His attitude was warranted, only sometimes. He saw the light at the end of the tunnel, but he thought it was closer than it really was. He also hated that you were right. Your wit has kept him sane, if he were to be honest with himself. It’s pushed him to be better, to do better.
“Yeah yeah, whatever,” he shook his head, going to throw the ball again.
End of flashback
You’ve watched Joe excel, watched as his wrist strengthened as he climbed the charts to be one of the best quarterbacks in the league. It was a thrill to see, even from the perspective of a witty athletic trainer.
“Cold?” you turned your head to watch a red-nosed Joe walk up to you.
“No, I’m actually sweating right now,” you sarcastically quipped, “yes I’m cold,”
“Sorry I asked,” Joe quipped, but a smirk painted his lips. He loved messing with you, mainly to see your pink cheeks and your smirk. As much as he messed with you, the feelings he had for you were very real. Having feelings for an athletic trainer wasn’t on his bingo card for the year, but here he was, never being able to pull himself from you. There was just something so magnetic about you.
“And you’re out here in shorts,” you scoffed, seeing the hoodie/jersey combo and the shorts he wore. He looked like he was taking a walk in the park when it was 50 degrees outside. It was below 30.
“It’s the high metabolism,” he came to stand next to you. He was much taller than you, and while he adored the height difference, he was well aware you could kick his ass.
“I think it’s the cockiness getting to you,” you muttered, earning a scoff from Joe.
“Wow,” he laughed, “I’ll make sure to put your name in for most supportive athletic trainer of the year,”
“Thanks, I deserve it,” you chuckled, looking up at him. He would agree with you; you did deserve it. Through his injury, the bullshit he put you through, you deserved some type of award. He wanted to be the one to give it to you, to see your face soften and your eyes widen.
“Yeah, you do,” he admitted, turning his face away from looking at you. There was a buzz between you, and you looked over at him. You watched as his breaths came out in puffs, how his cheeks, ears and nose were painted red. He wasn’t bad to look at, but you to remind yourself that you couldn’t indulge in those feelings. You’d lose your job.
You turned back to the field, feeling your heart slam against your chest. Now you were warm, your palms sweaty and your cheeks red. One of the coaches blew the whistle, signaling the end of the break and the beginning of the second half of practice.
Your cheeks were rosy, and you were warmer at the end of practice. You threw with Joe some more, gave him some strengthening techniques, and continued on with the banter that usually came from you both.
You grabbed your things, including a practice bag, and hoisted it on your shoulder. You looked back at Joe, who was standing with Ja’marr and Tee, a laugh spilling from his lips. He looked so cozy, so relaxed, and you couldn’t help but feel your heart flutter.
You looked away, shaking your head. It wasn’t going to happen. You were an athletic trainer and he was a player, not just any player, the star player. You walked off of the field, a pep in your step as you started towards the facility.
“Boo,” you heard a voice in your ear, making you jump. You snapped your head over, and saw the towering quarterback next to you.
“Asshole,” you shoved him, your heart slamming in your chest from his scare and from him.
“Oh come on, you’re just a lil jumpy,” he teased. He liked seeing you all riled up, but he wasn’t stupid. He respected you enough to stop when you asked, or even when your body language betrayed you.
“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes, walking next to him. He kept his pace with yours, even though it was slower due to the height difference.
As he walked next to you, he felt his stomach tie itself into knots. He usually didn’t get nervous; he was confident enough in his abilities to focus. But now? He faltered. You were beautiful, in every way, and the way you handled his antics just made his feelings ten times stronger for you.
“You’re uncharacteristically quiet,” you hummed as you walked with him. The silence that was between you was tense, and it buzzed with unsaid feelings. What those feelings were, you couldn’t tell.
“Just thinking about all the ways to annoy you tomorrow,” he dramatically sighed, but it wasn’t completely true. He thought about you, the way your eyes sparkled in the sun, the way your face blushed under the cool weather. He found himself, at points, thinking about what it would feel like to kiss you, to have you as his.
“I knew it was preplanned,” you teased, giving him a smirk.
“Everything’s preplanned. I don’t do anything without thinking first.”
“That’s a lie,” you laughed, earning a scoff and a gentle shove from him.
“You’re supposed to support me, not break me down,” he pouted, and you mockingly pouted back.
“Aww, poor baby,” you huffed, and he only shook his head. You both neared the facility doors, and as warmth enveloped you both, so did Joe’s feelings intensify. He pursed his lips, flexing his hands as he tried to control the impulse to kiss you, to shove you against the wall and take you.
“Y/N?” he asked, and you turned to face him. It was just you two, standing in the hallway. Everyone else had gone ahead.
“Yeah?” you prompted, watching him. You picked out uncertainty in his eyes, the way his lips were tightly pressed together. Something was weighing heavy on him. But he looked at you, his eyes blank, his face pale. He forgot the words. His tongue was thick, like cotton in his mouth.
“Nothing, I’ll see you later,” he smiled, and brushed past you to the locker room. His heart hammered in his chest and his palms were sweaty. His mind was in a fog, consumed at the thought of you. He chickened out, and he’d beat himself up about it for the rest of the day.
You were left standing, confused and empty. You watched as he left, his form retreating down the hallway before he disappeared. Part of you hoped, based off of the look in his eyes, that he’d tell you that your feelings for him were reciprocated. Part of you hoped that he’d say something, but he didn’t.
You walked back to your office, a smaller room along a hallway. You unlocked your door, walking in to the warmer room. Your desk was in front of you, a window behind it, letting soft light into the room. Two guest chairs stood in front of your desk, and a small table held a coffee maker.
It was the bare minimum, but you were lucky you had an office.
You set the bag down, sitting down at your computer. You needed to write your reports, to check reports that have been submitted, but you couldn’t focus. Your mind drifted to Joe, to his eyes, to how he so easily talked to you, his arms, his thighs.
You dug the heels of your palms into your eyes.
You opened up your emails, trying to distract yourself from the thoughts of Joe. He was your coworker, not someone to become romantically involved with. No matter how he made you feel, no matter how attractive he was.
You didn’t know how much you got done, but your eyes never left your laptop until you heard a knock on your door. Your eyes lifted from your laptop, watching as Joe opened your door. His hair was wet, his skin a warm tan. He was dressed comfortably; sweats and a sweatshirt.
“What’s up?” you asked, pursing your lips.
“I just wanted to stop by before I left,” he said, stepping into your office and softly shutting the door behind him. His heart slammed against his chest. He was only ever nervous around you, except when it came to practice. He was in his element, he knew what he was doing and that distracted him from you. Now, as he stood in your office, he didn’t have his football knowledge to back him up.
“Oh,” you smiled, “is there something bothering you?” you asked him, concern furrowing your brow. You couldn’t think that Joe would come and see you for any other reason than football, or his wrist. He wouldn’t come and see you because he wanted to.
“Yeah, can you check my wrist before I go?” he asked you. He didn’t need his wrist checked. He was totally fine. He’s been fine for weeks.
“Sure, yeah,” you stood up, meeting him in the center of your office, “but I thought you’ve been fine for weeks,” you hummed as you took his extended wrist.
“I was, but it felt really tight after my shower,” he swallowed. Your soft hands against his wrist, the way your fingers gently pressed to see where his supposed pain was, it sent shocks throughout his body.
“Ok,” you hummed, turning over his wrist. You didn’t see any swelling, you didn’t feel any heat, and he didn’t react to your pressure.
“I don’t feel anything,” you told him, meeting his eyes, “there isn’t obvious pain,” you added, but as your eyes met, tension buzzed between you. Your stomach twisted, your heart skipped a beat. You fought the urge to look at his lips.
“That’s good,” he sighed, nodding his head. He could feel the tension, the way you looked at him, the way his heart skipped beats. He inhaled deeply to try and control his breathing. His free hand, with a slight tremble, reached up and caressed your cheek. His light touch sent shivers down your spine, and as much as you should fight it, you didn’t. You stepped closer to him, keeping your eyes on him.
He softly placed his lips on yours, and for a moment you stiffened. You didn’t expect this. You didn’t expect him to kiss you, to do the very thing you’ve wanted to do for a while. He parted from you, feeling you stiffen.
“I’m sorry-” he was interrupted by your hands grabbing the collar of his sweatshirt, pulling his lips to yours with a hunger like no other. He immediately kissed you back, one of his hands cupping the back of your neck, pulling you closer. You tasted sweet and it made his body thrum with his need for you. The need he’s been shoving aside for months.
Your lips danced together with a roughness and passion you’ve never experienced. Your hands looped around his neck, keeping yourself as close as you could be to him. His hunger for you could be felt as his hands moved to grip your hips. He began walking you back, keeping his lips on yours. When your hips hit your desk, you gasped, and it allowed his tongue to slip into your mouth. You moaned as his tongue explored your mouth tasting more of you.
He slowly pulled away, resting his forehead against yours. He panted, his breath fanning your face.
“Is the door locked?” you asked, looking into his eyes.
“I don’t know, why?”
“Because we’re gonna need it to be,” you hummed, the look in your eyes telling him all he needed to know. He’s never locked a door so fast in his life. He came back over, and smashed his lips back to yours with a newfound hunger. His fingers played with the hem of your shirt, and in that moment, you were glad that door was locked. You were also glad you were an athletic trainer; you’d need to be able to do your own stretches later when he took your ability to walk.
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lunebulous · 2 days ago
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Playing with your body in non-sexual ways
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A.N: This is my first time writing fanfiction. Any feedback is very much appreciated. I hope you enjoy! I have no idea what tags to put here so, just trust me bro. cw: thigh worshipping (zayne), plus-size reader (rafayel).
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Xavier
There wouldn’t be a lot of occasions where his caresses would be in a non sexual way - that's why he's known to be a wolf in sheep's clothing. But don't get me wrong, being sexual does not equal condescending or rough. Not for him. - well, sometimes. - It's just that if he focuses too long on your face when you’re sleeping soundly, or when you're admiring the lantern lights at another festival, he gets this sensation that he should own you once more, just to be sure you're his. 
So when he kisses, it's only to leave you wanting more of him.  So when he caresses your body, it's only to let himself know he's the one making your skin get goosebumps.  So when he embraces all of you in a tight hug, it’s only to feel like you’re finally real this time.  And when all of these inevitably turn into that feeling of ownership again, he frowns internally. Initially, he wishes that he was different and that he wouldn’t feel like this everytime he stops to think about you; But it's just so much love that it overflows from his heart, dripping right into the lowest part of his torso. When he realizes, he’s slowly kissing you against the wall again. He can’t help it, he's naturally drawn to you like a magnet. And that feeling gives place to a necessity, a craving that hurts so deliciously he gives up on being different. So when you gasp for air and tug at his hair to breathe a little, he just can’t understand why. Or how can you do this to him. He wants more. And more. And more. He needs it so bad he can’t help but pin your hands to the wall so he can kiss you longer, raveling in the way you squirm under him. After all, just because he can't help it, doesn't mean he's not enjoying every second of the fruits of his own possessiveness.
So he caresses you all the time - the problem is that it often turns into a primal need to own and to explore each cute face - each little sound - you make for him. He feels like a victim to his own desires. Poooor Xavier… (irony included).
Rafayel
Rafayel is completely enamoured by your hands, making sure to always kiss them whenever he gets the chance. When he doesn’t, he’s more than expected to caress them while you wait for food in a nice restaurant, or when you’re walking on the shore with him. He is the king of intertwining your hands all the time - never letting go even if for brief moments. He says his bodyguard should be aware of where he is at all times, and when you replied that having one of your hands busy would actually get in the way if danger arrives, he puffed his chest, saying something along the lines of “i’m lucky I have the best bodyguard that can fight 10 men with only one hand then!”. You sighed, giggling because of him. “You’re not actually expecting me to fight with 10 men without letting go of your hand, right?” “Well, I'm pretty sure that was on your job description when I hired you.”  “No it wasn’t.” “Now it is.”  --- He also kisses and grabs your stomach and love handles all the time, especially when lying down, like now. There were some times when it made you feel a little bit insecure, but he always buried his face on it with a big smile, hugging your waist. When you voiced your insecurity to him for the first time, he simply said: “Well, I never saw a painting of any muse that didn’t have enough body for me to drown in it. - he stares up at you intently, before looking at your stomach again. - In fact, it is the only scenario where drowning would be possible for me. - Now he’s getting a hold of your love handles. - And actually, i'd love it. Thank you, my muse!” Right before nuzzling his face on your belly again, giggling. You blush furiously, caressing his purple locks, but he’s too busy to see it.
Zayne
Zayne would always need a bit of a push to touch you like he wants to - and you know that. He’s slowly coming out of his shell and being more confident when it comes to being intimate with you, getting over his irrational fear of hurting you again. The ‘push’ he got today was seeing you come home after brunch with your friends, wearing a dark and muted red lipstick, blended on your lips so perfectly it reminded him of a vintage doll. He made a note to himself to compliment you later when you had your attention on him - because you were busy taking off your shoes, your coat and yapping about some BIG gossip you just found out. He listens attentively, putting two and two together with you as you happily stride towards him. 
You sit beside him on the couch and hug his arm, leaning on his shoulder. He places his hand between your thighs, trying not to pay too much attention to it - a task quite hard for him, as you were wearing light brown stockings that made your oh-so-loved thighs look even more bite-deserving; But he tries to shake the thought away. 
It doesn’t take long before you’re well-invested in the documentary he is watching, but the position is getting quite uncomfortable now, so you crawl between his legs and rest your back against his chest, both of you laying down on the chaise part of the couch. First he stares at you, finding adorable how you don’t hesitate before making yourself comfortable with him. He lays a chaste kiss on the crown of your head, making you snuggle against him even more, getting it just right like two puzzle pieces. And he swears to himself he’s a good man. He is not going to turn this into something more just because your ass grinded against him innocently, no, no. Breathe, you touch-starved man! 
But the same man now is fighting for his life to NOT look at your thighs, the stockings making them look so shiny for him, he couldn't help himself but imagine the shadows his fingers pressing onto your skin would look like. He imagined you in not-so-innocent lightings more than he’d ever admit, and as his thoughts stray away, he doesn’t notice how he’s been caressing your chest and collarbones for some time now, lightly using his fingertips to circle around your skin, as if memorizing each part of it. Then he's slowly directing his way to your neck, with four fingers on one side and his thumb on the other, going up and down with featherly touches as his eyes are glued to your legs, completely blank, admiring each curve going from the arch of your feet to your calves, and then to your thighs, stopping at the start of your tight skirt. Now he’s gripping your neck - just lightly pressing on it, your airflow is completely free. (for now). You can’t help but wonder what’s going on inside his mind, lying to yourself that feeling his firm hand around your neck is not making you want to rub your legs together, but you're already doing it a bit, discreetly, not knowing you’re being very thoroughly watched. As he’s breathing deeper to try to not get excited, you feel his hand slowly letting go of your neck and you whine inwardly at it. But then his hands hesitantly go higher, his slender fingers sliding across your chin to play with your lips as he remembered to compliment you. He opens his mouth to do it, but being so lost in thought he just stops. Staring at your legs with an empty gaze, completely out of it. God, they’d look so good around his cock. Fuck.  You look up, a bit surprised with his actions, slowly tilting your head to the side, looking at him. - the movement makes him get out of his trance, suddenly confused as to how his fingers got to your lips - but as if reading his mind, you part them, waiting. And then he gets it. The key to making himself touch you like he wants to is just to - not think. It makes sense, it's a part of him he never let himself explore. He then lets himself do what he wants, sliding his middle and index finger on your tongue, experimenting. As you close your lips around them, looking at him so puppy-eyed, he can't help but smirk as realizing he could get used to this very quickly. You start feeling him growing against your ass now.
He presses down on your tongue, smiling. “You look so beautiful wearing this color, love.”
So, Zayne doesn’t play with any part of your body - because as soon as he does it, he gets a problem under his trousers. And now that he knows how to let go of control, - you got one too.
Sylus
Sylus wouldn’t be the type of man to touch you without being full-on intentional with it. The same amount of hate he has towards ‘quickies’, he has for the idea of touching your most sensitive parts without being completely devoted to them. So when playing with you, it is usually filled with admiration and love, silently appreciating your presence by his side. That’s why you often find him mindlessly braiding your hair as you lay your head on his lap to watch a movie, or how he gently runs his fingernails - once claws - on your calf under the table when he’s discussing his next moves with the twins. Yeah, sometimes his hands wander a little bit higher, a little bit firmer, but always looking at you to watch your reaction; as if to just - test the waters, tease you to see your ears turn red.. or warm you up for what’s coming next.
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bunny-jpeg · 2 days ago
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Hello, could I get maple taffy, boston cream, pie, mango sorbet with a side of mocha coffe, champagne, margarita, tonic water and naked & famous with Fernando please. (and some baby trapping to top it off)
bakery menu
thank you for submitting to the bakery! it's been nice to get back into working on these again. this has been a lot of fun! the prompts were lovely and so was the driver (fernando alonso my beloved) - so i hope you love, love, love this.
maple taffy: "oh my god you're stupid." + boston cream pie: "yeah, i'll use protection." + mango sorbet: "you are by far the dumbest thing i've ever fucked. how did they even let you graduate?" + mocha coffee: breeding kink + champagne: sugar daddy situation + margarita: unprotected sex + tonic water: age gap + naked & famous: bimbo/ditzy!reader served by fernando alonso
tags: smut/pwp, age gaps (20s/40s), sugar daddy au, breeding kink & baby trapping, pregnancy, ditzy!reader, unprotected sex, doggy style, lying & manipulation, possessive behavior, spanking, daddy kink
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"daddy!" you chirped as you stood there in the doorway of the living room. you crossed your arms and pouted, "what is this?" then swayed your hips from side to side to show off the dress that he bought you. you had put it on to put a little fashion show for your sugar daddy, but why was this outfit covering so much!
fernando looked up from his newspaper and looked to you, "i don't see a problem, my love." and watched you pout further. the dress had short sleeves and buttons that went up to your collarbones. the skirt of the dress was more full and it stopped at the knee. covered up a hell of a lot more than the other more suggestive outfits you normally wore.
you furrowed your brow, "i look like someone's mom!"
he raised his brows at you and put the paper to the side. he got up and approached you. he liked how you looked, he said, "well, you said you didn't want to be my sugar baby, but my wife... i thought you should look the part."
eventually you ended up in his lap in the bedroom, you were still in the dress. the pastel yellow looked beautiful as his strong hands groped your chest. he licked his lips in anticipation. your breasts felt full in his hands and he purred, "look at you, beautiful." he knew he was going to give you a shiny diamond.
but he hoped to give you a baby first. not that you knew that, you were dutiful with playing it safe. but fernando wasn't getting any younger and worried he might not be able to perform his biological task and get you pregnant. so it was better to start earlier rather than later.
his hands soon went up the skirt of your dress. you looked good, much better than those slutty outfits that you usually wore. if you were going to be a mother, you were going to have some respect. your goods weren't were sale because fernando was the highest bidder. he gripped onto your ass and pressed you further against him. he growled in a low sexual tone, "you are by far the dumbest thing i've ever fucked. how did they even let you graduate?"
you pouted, remembering that you gave up university to play house with fernando in spain. it was hard hearing how much he missed you, so you left. you said, "daddy, remember. i didn't graduate." and fernando slapped your ass.
"i know, i know. better in my house then in lecture." he said lowly as he rubbed himself up against you. the roughness of your jeans hitting against your clothed pussy. he slapped your ass again and said, "hands better on my cock than typing essays. but you know that, this was what you were meant for."
you felt excitement race through you as you said, "will you use protection, daddy?" you pouted at him as you held his face. your core was soaked from him. he had that effect on you. but, you weren't going to be swayed easily.
dumb little thing, he thought. you thought you had any ounce of power in this situation. fernando fucked you, cared for you, provided for you. the least you could do was get pregnant. his hands rested on your lips and he licked his lips at the sight of you rubbing up against him. he replied, "yeah, i'll use protection. of course, my love." he said as he rubbed up against you once more and you felt the excitement through you.
you smiled a little bit and kissed him on the lips, you giggled a little and said, "thank you, daddy." and yelped when fernando gave you another slap on the ass.
you were soon in the bedroom and as you stripped, fernando knew he was going to fuck you raw. and the fact you trusted him so much was cute. oh my god you're stupid, was all he could think of when you even hung up the dress so it wouldn't get wrinkled. he eyed your behind and felt something hungry in his core. you were already acting like a wife and mother - how cute.
fernando took you by the hips once you had the dress off the floor and guided you towards the bed. you were laid out beautifully in a matching pair of undergarments. his rough hands played with your body and he felt the hunger grow.
he reached for your panties while you reached for your bra. you were soon undressed for him and you worked the buttons of his white shirt. his hands rested on your sides for a moment and he felt something stir inside of you. you'd look so cute with a baby at your hips, fernando's baby. his clothes were removed and you eyed him up and down.
"look at you." he said, "someone's hungry for me. get on your stomach, i want to feel you deeper." it was also a way for you to not see him fucking you raw. you wouldn't be able to tell the difference, but for fernando it would mean the world.
you got onto your stomach and bent your knees. he admired your beauty for a moment. you were going to be a perfect mother for his child, fernando knew what you needed better than he did. no need to worry about much else, not while he sank his cock into you.
he knew his friends would think he was a perverted old man for getting his sugar baby knocked up. but fernando believed that they were just jealous. especially when you had a pussy that just pulled him in. he moved up against you, making sure that every inch was inside of you.
"did you.. did you put on a condom?" you asked meekly, your face in the covers.
fernando pressed your head further into the soft pillows and said, "yes i did, my love. everything's all secure." this was the biggest lie he could ever tell. but you were just so stupid that you trusted him blindly. fernando liked that, it was important for a wife to trust her husband.
you whimpered a little bit and arched your back at the feeling. you held onto the covers and moaned, it was hot. your face looked pretty in the pillows, even that pastel pink decorative photo that always stayed on the bed. fernando held onto your hips and moved against you, his cock nudged against all the right places and it made your noises sound sweet.
with a cunt like this you'll be spending the rest of your twenties pregnant if fernando had his way. can't just have one child, no, no, he hoped for at least three. enough to keep the future mrs. fernando alonso busy. two boys and a girl was what he hoped for.
his pace quickened, near brutal as the two of you fucked against one another. he loved feeling you. your soft hips in his grasp, his cock buried inside of you. he worked your needy sexy with heavy thrusts, he could feel the fire in his core as he worked himself against you. you were irresistible.
"my love." he said, "you feel better and better every time i fuck you. i wonder if your pretty pussy could only take me now." he held onto you tighter and worked harder against you. you moaned a little louder and it was music to his ears.
you moaned loudly and clutched onto the covers. your back arched as he hit right up against you. it was erotic, it was like his tip was hitting against your cervix perfectly. your eyes rolled back a little and you felt the excitement in your core. it was hard not to e aroused by fernando, your daddy. you said out of breath, "please, daddy. it feels so good." you were near stupid (as if you weren't already) from fernando's feverish fucking.
"my love." he said, "you're so perfect for me. you take me so well. like you were made for me. spent a lifetime trying to find the perfect cunt to sink into every night and it was you." fernando wanted you all to himself, he wanted you every night he could have you. and once you got pregnant he'd have to be a little creative with the positions, but he'd make sure that you both felt good. he didn't want you to think he thought you were unattractive, you'd only grow more beautiful as your pregnancy progressed. and fernando would show you that.
his pace started to stagger and the pleasure grew in your core. there was a certain pleasure in you. the two of you fucked feverishly, you were more eager because you believed that fernando was being safe. not that his bare cock was plunged inside of you. invading your space.
"I'm close." you choked out as he moved against your body. pressed together, fitting perfectly. you clenched around him and gasped into the covers as you came around his cock. your eyes closed for a moment as you moaned.
fernando was spurred on from your orgasm to finish as well. he pressed his chest against your back and fucked you feverishly. the pleasure was lightning hot and you felt it curl in your gut. your toes curled from the over stimulation. he kissed your back and shuddered as orgasm neared. the pleasure coursed through as he thrusted against you. a few more thrusts and he finished inside of you.
you felt your heart flutter as he came inside of you. you were blissfully unaware of how much cum he was putting inside of you. you thought you were being safe, but in your blissed out state. you couldn't have cared less. you felt warmth in your body as he eventually pulled out and laid beside you on the bed.
his hand was on your middle, he felt the soft skin and kissed your neck. he wondered if he could get you anymore dresses, but have them for maternity wear.
-
"there's my wife." fernando said as you brought you drinks for fernando and his friends while they played cards. he got up from his seat at the outdoor table and took you by the waist to guide you towards the table.
he also could tell that his long time friends were eyeing your sweet middle. took a little while and a bit of lying, but you ended up carrying fernando's baby. you two were having a baby boy together and he couldn't be happier.
you were a perfect wife for him and as he placed a hand on your middle. he knew you'd be a perfect mother. didn't need a degree when you had a husband <3
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littlcdarlin · 1 day ago
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My Burning Sun Will Someday Rise
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part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | read on AO3
summary: Joel and reader finally make it back to the hotel & all that sexual tension is resolved. tags: daddy kink, big age gap (Joel is 49, reader is 23), dbf!Joel, Joel has a lovely belly, Joel is a little mean, praise kink, Joel calls reader "kid", unprotected piv (very stupid, wrap it up kids), creampie, cunnilingus, face-sitting, (resolved) sexual tension, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, forced orgasm (not really? kinda sorta?), smut with a little bit of plot, no use of Y/N, afab!reader, reader has hair
Note: finally, the last part is here! I hope you’ll enjoy it, I had a lot of fun writing this. It’s one in the morning so forgive any typos — I wanted to post today. Thank you for the consistent love on this story, I really appreciate all your messages and comments <3
Joel positively drags you back to the hotel, one arm slung across your shoulder, your hastily packed bags in the other. He’s quiet, and you’re afraid that talking will break the spell, that he will hear your voice and remember who you are, and what he’s planning on doing to you. You’re nervous. Excited, yes, but nervous – you’ve been with people before, drunken hookups with collage boys who wanted to get off as quickly as possible. None of it felt like this, you didn’t want any of them as people. With them, it was about the sex itself, with Joel it is almost entirely about him.
Your thoughts are racing in your head, insecurities bubbling up inside of you, things that didn’t matter when you slept with those other people you barely knew – will Joel mind that you aren’t clean shaven? Did he expect you to be more experienced than you were? Were you even good in bed, or would he be underwhelmed, and secretly think you were pathetic?
You want this, more than you have wanted to be with someone maybe ever. But that want makes you vulnerable, strips you of any nonchalance you might have clung to if Joel was anyone else. He isn’t some collage boy who won’t remember you in the morning, he is your father’s best friend, for whom you are a more than controversial choice. Sleeping with you is a threat to his friendship with your father, and still, he’s ready to risk it, he pretty much told you as much. That gives it a level of importance you aren’t used to when it comes to sex.
When you reach the hotel, Joel hurries past the reception before the kind lady can stop you, and despite your nervousness, it amuses you. Joel presses the button to the elevator impatiently, making your stomach flutter. He’s so shameless in his desire for you, not embarrassed by this open display of wanting to get to his room as quickly as possible. You would have worried about looking needy, but not Joel. He’s secure, and solid, and unflinching.
The doors open, and as soon as you’re inside, Joel crowds you against the wall of the elevator, catching your lips in a kiss, before moving his mouth to your neck. You exhale shakily at the feeling of him sucking on your skin, the beard burn a surprisingly welcome sensation.
"They’ve got cameras," you breathe, a weak attempt at regaining some sort of dignity, while Joel quickly unravels you under his mouth and hands.
"Fine by me," he just answers, "Should ask them for a copy to take home with me."
Your knees threaten to buckle at those words, his admission that this isn’t just a holiday hookup, that he will want you just as much when you have left this paradise and returned to the world outside of your bubble.
"Careful, baby," he says, one hand holding you steady by the waist, his lips ghosting over your jawline.
Baby.
With a sudden ding!, the doors open again, and an elderly couple steps inside. Joel stops kissing you, but doesn’t step away, his hand still on your waist, his big body still close to yours. You offer the couple an awkward smile, and barely register the judgement in their eyes as their gazes flicker over Joel’s hair specked with white, because Joel’s hand starts moving again. He slips it under your shirt, no his shirt, rough fingers drawing featherlight patterns on your sensitive waist. His touch is teasing, clearly meant to get some sort of reaction out of you in front of these strangers. Joel’s getting off on this, you realize, on being seen with you, on people knowing just what he plans on doing once you’ve reached the third floor. You bite the inside of your cheek and do your best not to let show how you ache for him, how his gentle touches are affecting you. If you look at him, you know your resolve will crumble, so you pointedly look at a point over his shoulder, and try not to shudder.
As soon as the doors open again, you and Joel get moving, and a nervous chuckle escapes you when you meet his eye. His expression is hard to read – blatant desire, but also something more gentle, something that calms your nerves. It’s Joel. He didn’t leave you hanging when you needed to borrow a bike, didn’t make you feel stupid or guilty for it being stolen, and he won’t make you feel stupid now. That’s what you like the most about him, you think, as his hand ghosts over your back and he leads you towards his room, the way he makes you feel at ease. Whatever the opposite of shame is, that’s what Joel brings out in you.
You reach the door, and want to push it open, but Joel stops you, tilting your face towards him with a gentle touch.
"You don’t have to do this," he says seriously, "we can just go back to the beach. No hard feelings."
You appreciate his consideration, the way he seems to be aware of a certain kind of pressure or expectation his age creates for you, but the idea of going back now, when you’re so close to what you want, makes you want to weep.
"Getting cold feet?", you ask lightly, and he smiles at you, a fond smile, one that seems oddly out of place given the situation.
"I’m just sayin’, I get it if you changed your mind or something. I assume this isn’t the way you…usually do things."
"No," you say, holding his eye contact. "Usually they’re twenty-five years younger."
Joel’s face is a perfect mask, not sure what to make of your remark. You reach up, your hand gently touching his beard, and your eyes glide over the wrinkles around his eyes from years of laughter, the white in his hair, his warm irises.
"God…you’re so fucking sexy," you breathe, and there it is again, that color his cheeks only turn when you compliment him.
"I haven’t changed my mind, Joel," you say honestly, looking directly into his eyes. "Have you?"
"No."
His voice is deep, and he finally, finally opens the door, eyes still on yours.
As soon as Joel pulls you into the room, his lips are on yours again, your arms wrapping around his neck, as he walks you over towards the bed. He’s bigger than you, much bigger, and it only really occurs to you when your knees give out under you, and you land on the bed, sitting in front of him and gazing up.
He looks imposing, almost threatening, if it wasn’t for that expression he has on his face – something behind the desire. You feel safe in his hands, safe to give yourself over, not just in the physical sense. He looks so capable, so easy to trust. His hand comes up to your face, tilting your head up, and you move easily for him, letting him mold you in any way he wants.
"That couple," you begin as you watch him watch you, take you in, "they knew exactly what we were doing."
His hand travels over your throat, and although he doesn’t squeeze, it’s exhilarating to think how well it fits into his palm. You shudder as he pops open the first button of your shirt – his shirt.
"You liked it," you add, voice breathy as the tips of his fingers ghost over your collarbone.
His eyes snap up to yours, and you give a small smile, almost teasing.
"Didn’t hear you complainin’," he answers, holding your eye contact. "Think I should mark you up, so that the reception lady knows, too."
It shouldn’t turn you on as much as it does, but you press your thighs together to relieve that terrible ache. Joel notices, and smirks almost imperceptibly, opening another button on your shirt. He’s taking his time, building tension by making you wait. He’s good at this, you think.
"But then she would stop calling you my Daddy," you breathe, trying hard not to close your eyes under Joel’s touch. Joel cocks an eyebrow, hands lingering on your shirt.
"Don’t tell me you enjoyed that, kid," he says, voice low, eyes intense. You flush, and wonder if he’ll kick you out now, if you have finally made things too weird to continue, but Joel keeps gazing at you, ever steady.
"Cat’s got your tongue?"
You swallow, and let out a shaky exhale. Joel pops open another button.
"That why you kept repeatin’ it to me? Cause it turned you on?"
He’s teasing you, dragging it out of you despite your embarrassment. He wants you to revel in just how debauched it is what the two of you are doing, and you get closer to giving in with every second. Joel’s fingers trace over the swell of your chest, finally visible now that he’s opened most of the buttons, and a weak sound escapes you.
"’S that it, baby?"
"Yes," you breathe finally, your cheeks burning. Joel’s answering smile seems oddly satisfied, as he opens the last button, lets the shirt glide over your shoulders and slump down on the bed in a little heap of linen. You swallow.
"Yes," he repeats, eyes trailing over your body. You wish he’d hurry up and get his hands on you, but with the way slick steadily leaks into your swimsuit, you can’t really complain. He sure knows how to play you like an instrument.
"Say it, then," he says curtly, a simple order, and you briefly close your eyes. It’s almost too good. His eyes are locked onto yours when you open them, expectant and blown wide with desire. He has stopped moving, and you realize he wants to hear you say it before he’ll go any further.
"I…I want to call you Daddy."
Your stomach curls up with need when you hear Joel groan, his resolve quickly crumbling, as he crashes his lips against yours again. He licks into your mouth with urgency, and it’s possessive in a way it wasn’t before, like he wants to claim your mouth. The thought makes you whimper, and Joel trails one hand over your side and down to the waistband of your swimsuit. You didn’t bother putting on your shorts again, just walked to the hotel in your bikini and shirt. His fingers slide under the thinnest part, right on your hip, and he lets it snap against your body. It doesn’t hurt, but the sound makes you groan.
His hands roam over your body relentlessly, squeezing, and tracing, and feeling the swell of your hips, the dip of your navel, your spine, your breasts. You almost don’t notice him undoing your swimsuit, until he slides off the top part, and runs one finger over your pebbled nipples. Your back arches and your hips twitch towards him, but he doesn’t give in yet, just teases the sensitive nubs while you whimper into his mouth.
Then he unties the little bows on your hips, and just like that you’re bare before him, your swimsuit coming undone with one tug of his fingers, while he’s still fully dressed. He’s disturbingly good at undressing you, something that used to be an obstacle to sex now a sensual part of it. You want to feel embarrassed at the amount of wetness between your legs, but when Joel’s fingers slide over your stomach and down to your throbbing core, he groans into your mouth.
"Jesus, you’re drippin’," he breathes against your lips, breaking away to watch his hand press circles into your clit. You try hard not to twitch under his gaze, his blazing eyes and skilled touch. Another whimper escapes you, as he keeps rubbing and watching your reaction, like he wants to take you in before continuing.
It’s embarrassing how quickly he gets you to the brink of an orgasm, but when your hips twitch towards him with little control, he stops, his eyes meeting yours again. You watch him lift his hand up to his mouth and suck his fingers clean, eyes not leaving yours. It’s the most erotic thing you have ever seen, the way he closes his eyes at the taste, and you wonder how you haven’t come yet.
"I’m gonna eat you out," he says, and it’s not a question. Immediately, insecurity floods your veins – you haven’t had someone do that before, and the men you have heard speak about it said they didn’t enjoy it.
"You don’t…I mean, you can just…", your voice trails off. Joel stops in his tracks, watching your face and cocking a brow.
"You ever been eaten out?"
"No," you say quietly, "and you don’t have to."
"I know I don’t have to," he says, and he sounds almost affronted, like he can’t believe you would think he didn’t enjoy it. "You want me to?"
"I just…know some people don’t enjoy it much," you mumble and look down. Joel’s hand comes up to your face, tipping your chin so you have no choice but to meet his gaze.
"I want you to come on my tongue," he says, "and then again on my fingers."
You almost whine at that, embarrassment seeping out of you easily, and Joel traces his thumb over your lips. You let it slip into your mouth and suck, swirling your tongue around it.
"Alright? You let me take care of you," he mumbles, eyes trained on his finger between your lips.
"Okay," you say, when his thumb slips from your mouth, and then quietly add "Daddy."
"Good girl," he answers, and a wave of heat rushes to your loins. It’s fucked, what you’re doing, completely fucked, but so good you think you might cry. You were scared thinking about it for too long would break the spell you two seem to be under, but the more you do, the more turned on you get. You have Joel Miller in front of you, calling you a good girl and about to make you orgasm multiple times.
"Lie back, baby," Joel says, and you do, sinking into the pillow that smells like him. Joel keeps watching you, and when he kneels down on the bed and gently spreads your legs with his hands, you think you might come from just that sight. But you hold on, because something about Joel wanting to eat you out, not even having taken off his own clothes, makes you curious. 
He kisses your ankle and trails his mouth upwards, over your inner thigh and your hipbone, until you almost tremble.
"Jesus, Joel," you mutter, hips twitching on the bed, trying to get closer to him without your permission. He looks up at you, pressing his thumb to your clit again, and you curse. It’s not exactly painful, but it’s so much, almost too much.
"That what you call me?"
He doesn’t let up, his touch so insistent, you wonder how he expects you to come up with a single word.
"S-sorry," you stutter, grinding against his hand. "Daddy."
It thrills you to use that word, to know it gets Joel off, enough that he chastises you for using his real name.
"That’s right," he answers, and finally he lets up, placing his big palm on your thigh instead. Then, he leans down, and presses his mouth to your clit, flicking his tongue over it. It’s unlike anything you have felt before, and you actively have to will your hips to stop twitching, afraid to somehow hurt Joel. But he notices, ever perceptive, and breaks away, his mouth and beard already covered in your wet.
"Get up," he says, and you feel your anxiety rise again, questions of what you could have done wrong. He waits, but raises his eyebrows.
"You wanna come, or not?"
So you sit up, confused, and watch as Joel lies down on his back.
"Straddle me," he orders, and you move towards his lap, but he shakes his head. "Over my face, come on, baby."
You stare at him. His expression softens when he sees your disbelief, and he gives you a smile.
"Told you I’d make you come on my tongue, didn’t I?"
"Yeah, but Joel, that’s…"
Your voice trails off. You aren’t sure what you want to say – dangerous? Really fucking hot? You’re still sitting by his side, when he strokes one hand over your thigh, a soothing touch.
"I don’t know where you get the idea from that I don’t enjoy eatin’ you out," he says, his voice almost stern, "but you get that right outta your pretty head. Now, will you do as I say and sit on your Daddy’s face?"
Your mind goes a little blank when Joel calls himself that, and you feel helpless to do anything but nod, give him what he really seems to want.
"Words, baby."
His hand trails up your thigh and over your stomach.
"Yes, Daddy."
"Good girl," he answers, looking directly into your eyes, his strong hands grabbing your waist and helping you move, hoisting you up until you’re hovering over his face.
"If I need to breathe, I’ll tap your thigh, alright?"
"Yes," you breathe, quickly adding "Daddy".
Joel’s hands force your hips downward and although the sensation of his mouth under you is exactly what your throbbing clit was begging for, you’re tentative and unsure of what to do – you don’t want to hurt Joel. 
"Move, baby, make yourself feel good," you hear Joel say, voice muffled by your body. You rock your hips forward once, and let out a groan – your clit bumps into his nose, and you feel him lick into your folds. His hands grab your hips, and he starts rocking you against his face, setting the rhythm for you, and and you feel yourself leak onto his face and into his mouth, as you start moving along with him. His beard feels scratchy in the most delicious way, as he lets you fuck yourself on his mouth, his thick tongue darting out.
"Fuck," you moan, "Fuck J-Joel, Daddy, fuck!"
It’s a lot to take in, Joel Miller’s head between your thighs, lapping at you like he’s starving, like he can’t imagine anything better than having you sit on his face. His strong nose keeps nudging your clit, again and again, and your movements slowly becomes more confident, though also less controlled.
Joel’s hands keep encouraging you, and you’re closer than before, right at the brink of coming all over his face, when Joel groans into your dripping cunt. The vibrations send you over the edge, and you practically sit down on his face with all your weight, but he doesn’t stop you, just lets you ride out wave after wave of your orgasm and chant a mixture of his name and daddy.
You get off of him with shaky legs, afraid you suffocated him, but he smiles up at you, looking absolutely wrecked – his hair is tousled, beard and face drenched in your juices, jaw a little slack. He reaches up to cup your face, and you go with his touch easily, laying down next to him. He rolls over until he’s half on top of you, watching your red, panting face, and slants his mouth over yours. You can taste yourself on his lips, can feel his soaked beard against you, and although it should be impossible after just having come, you throb at the feeling.
"So good for me," Joel mutters against your mouth, and trails his hand downward, over your stomach and to your overstimulated clit. You twitch under his touch, your body unsure if it wants to get closer to Joel, or get away from him, and he chuckles.
"She spent?", he asks, his tone a little amused, when you squirm under him. "That’s okay, baby, I’ll give her a break."
Instead, he slides his fingers through your folds, gathering wetness, and finally pushing into you. Your body opens up for Joel more than willingly, and although the stretch is tight, it’s not nearly as painful as you’re used to, you’re too wet and relaxed for that. 
Joel watches your face, your fluttering eyelids, as he pumps two thick fingers in and out of you in shallow thrusts. You whine – you know you’re being vocal, too loud for a hotel room, but you can’t bring yourself to care, not when Joel curls his fingers against that spot inside of you that makes you see stars. Your hips twitch upwards, and Joel smirks.
"There we go, baby, there we go," he mumbles, moving his fingers relentlessly, and already you can feel another orgasm building. He doesn’t let up, just lets you whine under him, thrash around, because his touch is almost too much, too good, too intense, but just right. 
"Give me another one, baby, come on," he coaxes, and you think your ears start ringing when his palm starts grinding into your clit with every movement of his hand, the tips of his fingers pressing hard against your insides. "You just let Daddy make you feel real good."
It feels like bursting apart, when you come again, some tight coil snapping and Joel practically wrenching the orgasm out of you with his relentless hand and dirty words.
"Daddy," you groan, your hand coming up to your face, as you bite down on your knuckle. Joel watches you with bright eyes, lets you tremble until he can tell it’s too much, and only then does he slip his fingers out of you. 
You’re weak, exhausted from the intensity of your pleasure, and Joel chuckles when you sigh, watching your glassy eyes.
"Okay if I fuck you now?"
You think you’d let him kill you, if he really wanted to.
"Yes," you breathe, "please."
He finally – finally – takes off his shirt, arms flexing, chest sprinkled in dark hair, his belly protruding over his trunks. You wish you had a camera, or a chisel so you could scratch his glorious body into a block of stone. He’s hard in all the right places, and soft in the rest, and with a jolt you realize you’re allowed to touch now, no longer confined to watching him swim from your deckchair.
"Jesus," you breathe, sliding one hand over his biceps, as he unties the band of his swimming trunks. You know you’re hindering him, but you can’t bring yourself to stop your hand from trailing over his chest, and down to his belly.
"Fuck, you’re so goddamn hot," you mutter when he slides the trunks over his hips. Then your mind goes a little blank, because finally his bulge isn’t confined to his trunks anymore, finally he’s naked in front of you, kicking his clothes onto the floor.
He’s big, just like the rest of him. Long, and thick, and uncut, and dripping in precum, the dark hair at the base of his cock a harsh contrast to the reddish skin. Joel closes his fist around himself, pumps twice, until you tentatively put your hand over his. His cock twitches, and you feel a little overwhelmed with power. Joel let’s go and lets you do the work, your hand much smaller than his. He looks even more imposing like this, as you move your hand up and down his length.
"Wanna suck it," you say suddenly, and you’re not entirely sure where the words come from, but you know they’re true – you want to get him into your mouth, feel him use your face the way you used his. Joel groans.
"God, you’re killin’ me," he answers, eyebrows furrowed, voice wrecked. You squeeze your hand a little tighter, just to hear him make his little sounds again.
"I’ll come if you do, baby, and I’m not sure I have two rounds in me," he says, regret lacing his voice, but his words make you clench around nothing – his age turns you on more than you thought possible.
„And I need to fuck you tonight,," he adds, and wraps his big palm around your wrist, so you stop moving it over his throbbing cock.
"So fuck me," you breathe instead, eyes wide and glued to his. You watch his expression change, something primal take over, and suddenly he’s on top of you, his hips pressing into yours.
"Again," he orders, almost growling.
"Please fuck me, Daddy," you whisper, your stomach clenching and unclenching in anticipation. Joel looks like he might come from just your words, but after a moment of collecting himself, he kisses you briefly.
"Alright, pretty girl, I’ll give it to you real good," he promises, and aligns his cock with your entrance. "You’re so goddamn fuckin’ wet, I can slide right in."
And he does, pushing his hips into yours. You feel the stretch of the thick tip, the widest point almost bordering on painful, and you bite your lip. Joel slides into you slowly, breathing into your mouth and making you feel everything. Then the tip is sheathed inside of you and Joel groans quietly.
"Grippin’ me so tight," he mutters, consistently pushing on, "halfway there, babygirl."
Your pussy flutters around him, clenches and unclenches, as he keeps going, and going. You feel full, and still Joel pushes on, until his hips are fully pressed into yours, and you feel him deeper inside of you than you have felt anything before.
"Breathe, baby," he reminds you, and you let out a shaky breath you didn’t notice you were holding. "Attagirl."
When he pulls out of you again, you make a raspy whining sound, your stomach clenching at the intense drag. Joel’s hands start trailing over your body, yours are gripping his shoulders.
"Look so pretty, all stretched out on my cock," Joel praises you, and God, the mouth on this man. If you weren’t so exhausted from the first two times he made you come, you would be trembling. You groan weakly, as he pushes back in, and starts moving at a quicker pace, setting a rhythm he likes. He punches into you with precision, angling his hips just right, and then he’s nudging against that spot inside of you.
"Ah…Daddy!"
"I’ve got you, sweet girl," he groans, moving both your wrists over your head, and pinning them down with one big hand – he easily engulfs you. You tug against him, testing his grip, and your hips twitch upward when you realize you can’t get out. He’s fully in control now, his cock nudging into you insistently, and you can only take it. You’ve never felt so cared for, as now, getting fucked raw by Joel Miller.
He doesn’t kiss you, but he keeps staring into your eyes, and it feels weirdly intimate. His movements become faster, more forceful, his belly nudging your body with every thrust. You whine, your body unable to do anything except for letting another orgasm build, one you didn’t think yourself capable of. The corners of Joel’s mouth twitch, when he feels you clench, and he fucks you harder.
"Daddy," you yelp at one particularly deep thrust, but Joel doesn’t let up – you don’t want him to. "Wanna come, p-please."
"You wait for my permission," Joel answers. Your belly feels like it’s on fire, tightly coiled with the need to just let go, but Joel wants you to wait, so you will wait. Anything, you think, anything. Joel’s jaw is slack, his brows furrowed, his free hand rough on your skin, but not unkind. You clench around him, and try your best to hold off coming, your eyes falling close.
"Eyes on me, kid," Joel orders, and despite your concentration, your eyes snap open. "Fuck, that’s it, my good girl."
My girl.
Joel fucks you like it, like you’re his. It’s possessive from beginning to end – the way he looked at you when you first wore his shirt, how he wouldn’t back away from you in the elevator. He plays your body like it’s his, dragging the pleasure out of you, and it makes your head spin. You can feel his thrusts go sloppy, can feel his restraint cracking, and your eyelids flutter a little.
"You want it inside, babygirl?"
You didn’t talk about that. You know you should say no. The head of his cock nudges your insides, and Joel’s free hand presses down on your stomach, feeling himself inside of you from the outside with every thrust.
"Yes," you breathe, "yes, please, Daddy, I w-want it."
Suddenly Joel is the one who has to close his eyes, as he keeps fucking into you.
"Fuck, you come for me first, baby," he groans, sliding his hand down to rub at your overstimulated clit. It’s too much, right on the brink of painful, and you thrash under him.
"I c-c-can’t Daddy, it’s…", your voice trails off, lost in the impact of his thrusts, but Joel keeps rubbing tight circles.
"Yeah, you can, baby, you know why?"
You don’t have it in you to answer, so you just stare into Joel’s eyes. You feel something wet on your cheek, and realize you must be crying, crying from how good you feel, how full.
"Cause I said so."
Your pussy throbs, clenches, and Joel moves his finger over your clit faster.
"Come for me, baby, I’ve got you," Joel drawls, and finally you do, your vision going white, your muscles going slack as you let Joel drag his cock in and out of you, the pleasure white-hot.
"Fuck, good girl, that’s my good girl," Joel groans, thrusting into you faster, until he presses into you harder than ever before, and you feel his thick cock twitch and throb against your cervix. Something hot bursts into you, and Joel keeps fucking into you for a couple more seconds, his eyes falling closed. Then, pulls out of you, your pussy fluttering, and he falls down next to you on the bed. You feel like jelly – you couldn’t move if you tried. Joel’s cum leaks out of you slowly, an odd, but pleasant sensation, and you sort of wish he would push it back into you.
After a couple of seconds, Joel pulls you against him, your face coming to rest against his broad chest, and he presses a kiss to your hair. You inhale his scent, and your spent muscles relax further, if possible.
"You did so good," Joel mutters, "so perfect."
His hands trail up your side and arms softly, a soothing contrast to the insistent way he fucked you. Your mind is pleasantly quiet, all caught up in his voice, his scent, his touch, his spent leaking out of you.
"Thank you," you sigh, and Joel chuckles. You smile weakly.
"Wanna get cleaned up, sweet girl?"
"No," you manage, "just wanna sleep."
Joel huffs a laugh, and tucks you more tightly against him.
"I’ll wake you before dinner."
***
When he does, the sun is already sinking. He trails kisses up and down your face – the softest way you’ve ever been dragged back to reality and out of a dream, and the first time you think reality is more fantastic than anything your sleeping brain could come up with.
"Mornin’, sleepyhead," Joel mumbles, catching your mouth in a kiss, his lips moving against yours slowly. You sigh into his mouth, when he pulls away.
"We should take a shower, baby, and you need a pill."
You open your eyes, a little confused.
"A pill?"
Joel raises an eyebrow.
"I mean, I’m not opposed to children, but I think your Dad might be," he says, and you snort weakly. Right, you think, the morning after pill.
"I’ve got an IUD, Joel, don’t worry."
He presses a kiss to your collarbone.
"Back to Joel, are we?"
You blush, and he laughs. It’s blissful, and a little unreal – Joel Miller, teasing you about the debauched, perfect sex you had not two hours ago.
"You prefer Daddy?"
"It’s…got a ring to it."
You can hear the smirk, even though your eyes are closed again, and you’re stretching your tired limbs. You yawn.
"How about room service?", you ask, Joel’s hand softly stroking the hair out of your face.
"Hmm," he mumbles, trailing one hand over your stomach, "or… we take a nice shower, you let me clean you, we have dinner with you lookin’ all fucked out, and everyone downstairs will know what we’ve been up to."
Your eyes open, and although you’re entirely, completely spent, your thighs clench together. Joel grins.
It’s quite the picture – Joel, with an arm around your shoulder ordering two cocktails, the redness on your skin from where he sucked too harshly or his beard burned you. You can see it in front of you, the same waiter as yesterday bringing your food, except this time, Joel lets you use his fork to try his meal, and instead of hurrying down to the beach afterwards, he’ll kiss you slow and long, just because he can, in front of every other guest in this hotel.
„Yeah…or that."
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Pulse - Portgas D. Ace
Portgas D. Ace x Reader
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CW: trauma, mentions of death, and slightly suggestive teasing, kinda proofread? I got tired :/ | wc: 15,671 🫠 SPOILERS: Amazon Lily / Marineford / Post Marineford Y'all can thank @captainportgasdace for this. as agreed upon previously, @silentgravesdontexist you're tagged for this piece MasterList (linked at bottom too)
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There had always been a somewhat wistful quality to Ace.
It wasn’t always apparent, but it was there, lurking, much like the many sea kings of the Calm Belt. The Calm Belt…you huffed a little, you could liken Ace to that stretch of sea - so much lurking beneath the surface. 
If you looked at him hard enough you’d be able to see the large shadows swimming not too far away. Though today, or rather, following the first anniversary of his very close call with death, the summit war, you couldn’t help but feel those shadows had migrated closer to the surface. Large, dark, intimidating - moments from attacking.
That needn’t be a bad thing. Maybe you could finally take them down. Maybe he’d even let you help.
Or so you hoped.
No mind. You had patience to spare. Especially when it involved your loved ones.
You studied your dear friend from afar, starting from his head - his hair had grown longer over the course of the year or so he’d been recuperating for. A trim was in order - if only to remove the bottoms and promote healthy hair growth. Regardless of your skill with scissors, he’d probably let you trim it for him if you asked him to. Anywho, he sat cross-legged on the sand, his shoulders hunched slightly forward as he hugged his knees. Your eyes were immediately pulled down to the marred skin of his back.
Where his back was once crowned with the mark of the strongest man on the seas, there was now an empty patch of scarred skin: a testament to the void left by the loss of a father. It was still the same back though. The same back that had stood between you and adversaries unthinkingly: raising both morale and wrapping you in security. It was the same back, just…missing a little something.
You couldn’t help the way the sand crunched under your feet, still you tried your best not to disturb his reverie. He did little more than glance over to confirm you weren’t a threat, before silently turning his gaze back to the sea that he would no doubt be taking to soon enough. He would be much like a child returning to the embrace of his parents in a sense…as he was “a child of the sea.”
There really had always been a somewhat wistful quality to Ace.
You had to tear your eyes away from him. Quite the feat when the sun was starting to set, casting a golden glow upon your friend - who was already beautiful enough under the dingy lights of pirate ship cabins, let alone during this golden hour. You knew well enough that you’d give yourself away if you kept staring at him. While it wasn’t wise to wait, you also knew that confessing to a person in the midst of grief was insensitive. And, you had patience to spare. Especially when it involved your loved ones.
You instead took a moment to trace his line of sight, attempting to follow it with your own gaze. You soon took a seat beside him, sitting cross-legged much like he was, only that you opted to hold your hands within your lap, rather than hug your knees.
It had been a while since you’d both come to this island after all that had happened. While walks on the beach were regular, and you did leave the house, it had been a while since you’d really taken the time to admire the vastness of the water. It had been a while since you’d really focused on the way the breeze felt as it tousled your hair tenderly. It had been a while since you’d really dug your feet into the sand and enjoyed the little poking sensations of the sand under your toes.
“Y’think I can get my back tattooed again?” 
You blinked yourself back from your thoughts, turning to look at the man to your side, his brows furrowed as he continued to look out to the sea. In the time it took you to process his question and consider how to respond, he’d already found his answer: “I can’t, can I?”
“I think it would be better not to,” you agreed nodding slowly, “were you considering getting another back tattoo?”
His grip on his arms tightened as he hugged himself tighter, gaze finally moving away from the sea, falling onto the sand instead, taking your heart with it. You leaned back to study his back once again, contemplating.
“There’s always your lower back,” you rocked forward to try and capture his attention, “or your butt.”
The incredulous look he gave you had your eyes crinkling in mirth. Though you did find yourself looking away soon enough, your embarrassment catching up to you. It went down a little bit-kind of…when you heard him give a quiet, but amused chuckle, “nah my butt won’t work!”
You glanced his way, and the instant that he recognized you were looking at him, he continued, “unless you’re suggesting I go around with my ass cheeks out.”
“Ace!” You groaned, your hands immediately going to cover your face, your whole body hunching forward in embarrassment as he erupted into boisterous laughter.
After a moment, and through the scalding heat of your cheeks, you asked, “would you wear a shirt to compensate for having your bottom half exposed?”
When you heard him hum, you braved a peek through your fingers to see his brows raised into a thoughtful expression, brown eyes reflecting the warm pinks and oranges of the sunset. You looked away the moment his eyes met yours, cheeks burning yet again.
“Y’know what?” You looked up again, and he grinned, teeth glistening in the light as he answered you. “Nope! I wouldn’t.”
When you hid your face all over again, you were entreated to even more of his beloved hearty laughter. You could feel the way his shoulders shook beside you, despite not being in contact. Your pride battled against your satisfaction trying to force you to be upset even though you’d invited this kind of teasing, and enjoyed the effect it was having on him.
Though laughter right now was mostly just an anesthesia: it numbs things, but doesn’t really address the cause.
When his laughter died down, he let out a long breath, “I remember pops had it on his back.”
You turned to look at him again, he was more relaxed now, one arm resting on a bent knee, the other behind him as a support with his other leg stretched out in front of him. Looking down at his chest, he placed a hand on it, “guess my chest wouldn’t be a good idea either.”
At his suggestion you found yourself staring at the terrifying mark marring his front. You gulped, seeing the crimson of the past. The crimson that had finally become a warm peach. A warm peach that rose and fell rhythmically with the breaths he took. A closed, covered, mostly healed warm peach.
“Hey! Hey! Breathe!” He poked at you.
You shook your head, blinked violently, and took in a deep gulp of air. Snapping your eyes to his face you were treated to his raised brow and remorsefully awkward grin. You pursed your lips petulantly. Looking away you answered, “I think we should avoid,” you paused, “tender areas.”
“Tender, huh?” He looked back at the great blue.
“I’m so grateful you’re still here,” you let it slip out as you too looked out at the sea.
He chuckled humorlessly, “you say that a lot.”
“It’s because I am,” you stood firmly by your opinion.
“I must’ve given you a real scare,” you hated how guilty he sounded.
“Marco told you, didn’t he?” You mumbled, hugging your knees to your chest.
“Yeah, he told me you wouldn’t stop crying unless you fell asleep,” he huffed out, “something about you not eating well either too.”
“I’m so grateful you’re still here,” you reiterated, looking at him, taking him in.
“You already said that,” he raised a brow at you, a corner of his lips upturning slightly.
“Just let me count my blessings Ace,” you rested your head on your knees.
He didn’t respond, but you could hear him shift a bit beside you. Turning your head you saw that wistful quality of his resurface on his face, the pretty features relaxing once again. You pondered on what he’d said…
“Hey Ace,” you raised your head and he turned to look at you, “what if you got it tattooed on your pulse?”
“Huh?”
You raised your arm up to reveal your wrist, pointing to the area you mentioned, “it’s one of the places you can check for a heartbeat.”
He stared at you, the gears in his head turning, “it’s a little less obvious than your back, and much smaller,” you continued, “but it’s still readily visible,” you looked down, “and it’s got something to do with the heart too.”
He was in your space immediately, “that’s a great idea!” You looked up at him, his eyes glimmering pools of molten chocolate. “You’re so smart! Thanks!”
“Happy to help,” you smiled back at him, and he pulled back a little, staring at you for a moment too long - ah, “what’re you thinking about?”
Much like you had earlier, the pirate blinked himself back to attention with a shake of his head. He looked away for a moment, scratching at the back of his head, a sheepish smile taking his features as his eyes flickered back to you, “‘s nothin’.”
“Fair enough,” you shrugged, “I’ll help you find a tattoo artist and get the design down if you’d like.”
“You would?” He lit up some more, sparks of his old vigor reigniting.
“Of course.”
-_-
It hadn’t taken more than a week or two to find a tattoo artist on the island. There were a couple and Ace found himself liking the older lady artist more, so you went on over to her with Whitebeard’s jolly roger proudly etched on a paper. The fiery man had burst into full-bodied laughter at the offended scolding she’d given the two of you: of course she knew Whitebeard’s jolly roger! The…late…Emperor had come and established a sort of peace over their quaint little island a decade ago or so, even going so far as to chase off some thugs from her little shop.
The former division commander was grinning from ear to ear when the artist sang his father’s praises. She did not withhold any of her opinions about how manly and handsome he appeared to her either. There was a small prickling in the back of your eyes, but you managed to keep it together, especially as a warm hand came to rest its weight between your shoulder blades. Turning to Ace, you were greeted with an equally warm grin as he excitedly told you he had a great feeling about this lady.
Oh! And that you did an amazing job finding her, “leave it to you to find such great people!” He beamed. 
“I’m so grateful I found you too,” you stressed, returning his grin with a smile of your own. 
Your delightful buddy froze momentarily before coming back to his senses, “thank you.”
“I’m happy to help.”
“Not just for finding the lady.”
“No thanks needed.”
“Though if I remember things,” he thought aloud, “didn’t I find you?”
You rolled your eyes, “oh no, a very good person found me.”
He chuckled lightly at your sarcastic tone, before your attention was required by the tattoo artist.
She did a truly spectacular job with the tattoo, and even provided the ointment he’d need to help promote faster healing. Over the course of tattooing the young man she seemed to realize you’d probably remember the aftercare instructions better than he would. 
She wasn’t wrong about that.
Ace felt like his tattoo was mostly healed by the end of the following month. The old lady had mentioned that given the location, it would take a while to heal fully though, so…You were the one worrying most days. Especially as Ace began to make the necessary preparations to embark back out on the seas again - he was healed enough for it, per the instructions and information Marco had left you with. 
It was a great deal of fun though, working on building your small ship together, you were just constantly worried he’d scrape himself and get the tattoo infected or something. He often shrugged it off, reminding you that he was made of fire after all, and could avoid scratches.
“Ah yes,” you nodded, “you’re hot in the literal sense.”
He burst out laughing again. He did seem significantly more lively these days. Especially following the tattoo. Though you weren’t sure if he’d slain some of the beasts within, or if the shadows had simply chosen to recede from the surface.
You got a glimpse of the answer one night as the two of you sat in front of the fire he’d started up, staring at the tattoo on his wrist while waiting for the fish and veggies you’d caught and scavenged earlier to cook. Your dear friend’s wistful quality resurfaced from the unfathomable depths that made him up, though with a tinge of nostalgia this time. There was a very small, very deeply fond, uplift to the line of his mouth.
You marched over to his side, plopping yourself down beside him, a basket of fruit and a knife in hand. He looked up at you, eyes reflecting the warmth of the fire beside him…or perhaps the warmth of the fire within. He was always so warm.
“Dinner’s almost ready,” he grinned and you could feel the warmth of domesticity mix in with his naturally warm aura and creep up on you.
Looking back at the basket of fruits in your lap, you picked up a pineapple, “well a little snack before won’t completely ruin our appetites,” you were about to begin cutting into it when he took it out of your hands.
“Here, lemme show you a neat trick,” he proceeded to twist the top of the pineapple off, hit the bottom of it on his knee, and forcefully roll it between his hands, “now you can pull out each piece, no knife needed!” He grinned, pulled a piece out and handed it to you.
You took it, impressed with the new piece of information, “that is neat!”
Silences had become increasingly common between the two of you. Tonight was no different, the two of you sat side by side, snacking on a pineapple, he did have to hand it over to you to switch out fish and vegetable skewers. At which point you decided to poke at the corner of his mouth with a piece of the fruit and he opened to eat it  without thinking twice. Given how your relationship had transformed over the course of his healing period, this level of closeness had also become commonplace between you two.
It didn’t mean anything though. It could be likened to the way you’d feed any of your close friends. 
You were trying not to fault yourself for wanting something more though. It wasn’t as if this feeling was new. Ace always burned so bright, and was so warm-and you weren’t unique in these feelings. What was unique about you, was the situation you were afforded. Again: it didn’t feel right to burden him with your feelings while he was essentially fighting for his life in a whirlpool of turmoil trying to drown him.
“What’cha thinkin’ about there?” He asked as he passed you a skewer of cooked fish.
You shook your head. You were a coward. You’d think almost losing him would push you to reveal just how important he was to you. Verbally reveal it that is. 
“Don’t wanna talk about it?” He nodded, understanding as ever. “Got it.”
“So you’re going to be setting off soon huh?” You chose to change the topic.
He hummed, stoked the fire a bit, and paused. He turned to look at you, brow furrowed.
“I’m going to be setting off soon?” He reiterated, confused. “You’re not coming?”
“Would you want me to?” You looked at him. “I mean, I remember you were upset over me staying with you when you were relegated to bedrest.”
“That was because you had better things to do than take care of me,” he bit back.
“If I wasn’t actively caring for you I might have gone insane though,” you worked to remove the skin from the fish, “it helped me.”
“You,” he tore into his fish with an aggressive bite, chewing in frustration, “you have your own dreams and adventures, and you wasted a whole year here with me though, the least-”
“Time spent with you is never wasted,” you cut in, effectively stopping his mouth from moving, “time spent with you, is never time wasted,” you repeated again meeting his gaze as he stared at you.
He just continued staring at you, with nothing but the crackling of the fire and the soft rolling of the waves filling the space between you.
He remembered to finish chewing and swallow his food soon enough though, blinking himself back to reality as he did so and looking at the fire he confirmed, “you’re coming with me,” his tone was firm with his conviction, “we’re setting sail, together.”
“Okay,” you nodded, nibbling into your fish, “I’m glad.”
He muttered something, or perhaps he whispered it, the words were stolen away by the breeze before you could make out what he said though. “What is it?”
“I wouldn’t leave you here on this island by yourself,” he shook his head, “not after everything you’ve done for me.”
“I did all that because I wanted to,” you drilled into him, “you don’t owe me a thing.”
Your brow pinched, your displeasure making itself evident on your face, “if you’re just going to befriend me out of obligation and guilt,” it was your turn to bite into your fish aggressively, “then leave me here.”
“I never said that!” He shot back. “We were friends before all this, and I’d rather die than lose you.”
“Please don’t talk about dying,” it was a quick, breathless, desperate request.
“Sorry.”
You shook your head, “no no I’m sorry,” your appetite was vanishing rapidly, “what you went - what you’re probably still going through - is worse than,” you swallowed thickly, tears welling up, “than me just watching it happen.”
“Hey,” you tried to wipe away the tears, fish skewer still in hand, “hey, look at me,” you turned to face your dear one - his intensity entrapping you.
He took your skewer from your hand, stabbing it in the sand next to his own. His larger palm enveloped your own as he pulled the appendage towards his chest pressing it right above his heart. You found your face warming inordinately-and it wasn’t because of your proximity to the fire. You felt the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he took deep breath after deep breath, felt the rhythmic - kind of quick - pounding of his heart.
“I’m alive,” he reminded you, “I’m still here.”
You nodded, bottom lip trembling, “I’m so grateful you are.”
He opened his mouth, about to say something, then looked away with a huff. His brows pushed down on his eyes, “I want to take you off this island with me.”
You nodded at him, hand still held above his chest, where you could feel his heart rapidly pumping blood to the rest of him - intact. Alive.
“I want to leave this island together,” you agreed.
“Then it’s set!” He grinned, and released your hand leaving it to fall limply to your side as he grabbed the skewers and handed you yours again.
That was also when he remembered the food he was still cooking. Seems he’d almost burnt the remaining fish, but they were thankfully saved just in time.
-_- 
Ace clearly loved being at sea again.
It suited him so well. Surrounded by blue on all sides, blazing his own path - own course through the waters. 
A child of the sea come home. 
You could see it in the way light seemed to dance off of him every instant of the day: the ethereal glow of dawn upon his defined features, the halo that the afternoon sun drew on his head, the gleam of the sunset on his back, or even the twinkling of the stars in his eyes. You could see how at home he was out on the restless waters.
Perhaps he was so at home on the restless waters was because he could actually see the restlessness? Maybe that was why when the sea calmed, you would catch him glancing back at his newest tattoo from time to time.
One of the times, he’d been laying down on one of your small sailboat’s little benches, his head resting near your own, as you sat on the floor of the deck beside him. He raised his hand up, staring at his wrist under the blanket of stars in the sky. You couldn’t help but notice, looking away from one beauty to another.
You weren’t too sure what possessed you in that moment, but you reached out a finger and began to trace the iconic crossbones and mustache embedded within your dear friend’s skin. It was as your finger finished dragging along the mustache that he maneuvered his hand so that his fingers could clamp down upon yours.
The first time he’d done this (held your hand) after the…after the war, you’d both been gripping each other’s hands like you were both on the edge of a cliff, afraid the other would fall to their demise if you let go. Though the first time he’d gently held your hand, you’d startled and he’d let go soon after. Of course since then, you’ve held him and been held by him as the grief of it all washed over you in waves. 
So anyway, hand holding didn’t mean anything. 
His thumb pressed down on the vein in your wrist, making you more aware of how fast your heart was beating. It didn’t really mean anything though - what he was doing right now. 
No matter how much you wanted it to.
When he stopped pressing down on your pulse, choosing instead to rub circles into your skin, you turned to look at him and meet his gaze as he gave you yet another of those bright smiles, leaving the heat to crawl up your chest and squeeze it.
-_-
When you arrived at the island the pose was pointing to the following day, Ace once again took your hand - to help you disembark. You spent the day scouring the place for new information, trying out the local dishes (with Ace falling asleep mid bite), and taking in the local sites. It involved a lot of you being dragged from corner to corner, your hand clutched firmly within his own as he led you around. By the time the evening fell, you both found yourselves on a beach front again, your narcoleptic buddy’s head on your shoulder as he snored away.
Hmm…you’d probably camp out somewhere near your Mini Moby tonight. Your brain couldn’t help but wander about as you played with the thick waves of Ace’s hair. You’d decided to do honest work for the time that the former Division Commander was healing. The reality was you’d been thrust into piracy due to your…”scholarly” pursuits, so of course you’d be doing honest work. It hadn’t paid much is all. After all, the island that Marco had left the two of you at was a quaint, quiet place that wasn’t too far from Saobody, and friendly to Whitebeard pirates. 
You had to admire his wisdom in choosing the place. It had both mountain and beach environments and a lot of greenery, so it would be soothing to the mind as well as the body. The local doctor was also very adept, and there was an extremely talented apothecary there as well. Marco had thought of everything.
You could hear your friend’s usual grumble, moan, and whine that he made whenever he woke up from one of his spells. The weight on your shoulder lifted, as his inky tresses slipped past your fingers as he sat up.
“Good morning,” you hummed jokingly.
“Morning?” He yawned, stretching out. “Did I sleep that long?” He was squinting at his surroundings.
“Nope,” you rolled out your shoulders, “I was thinking of setting up camp near the Mini Moby.”
He blinked at you, “food first,” and grabbed your hand to pull you up with him.
How he was so awake already was beyond you. Perhaps it was a consequence of having to deal with this regularly. 
“Usually you ask if the person is hungry first,” you huffed, working to steady yourself on your feet after being sat for a while.
“You aren’t hungry?” He blinked at you.
Truly it was fascinating how this man before you managed to be fierce, fiery, and beautiful one moment, and then absolutely boyishly adorable the next. “I am,” you nodded, your mouth pulling itself up and pushing your eyes into a smile.
Your dear friend stared at you in silence for a bit, before tugging you by your conjoined hands with a loud declaration of, “then let’s eat!”
And eat, you did. On the house too. Thanks to Ace’s battle prowess he managed to stop the restaurant from getting looted at gunpoint. It wasn’t some casual dine and dash, this guy was threatening the cook’s life!
Though Ace  likely cost the owner the same amount as what he’d have lost from the looting with how much the commander ate. The old man didn’t mind though. 
His daughter definitely didn’t either. You noticed her sneaking glances the pirate’s way the whole evening. You couldn’t blame her, even if you didn’t look directly at the sun, it was still impossible to ignore.
It seems that the personified sunshine in question didn’t notice her longing gazes as he, once again, took your hand to lead you out when you were both done. He was talking your ear off about Luffy again, just like he used to before…
…before everything happened.
The only difference was the way he was holding on to you this time. You found yourself squeezing his palm and watched as he stood at attention and turned to you with a curious expression, “what is it?”
“Nothing,” you shook your head, “I’m just happy.”
You were greeted with a warm silence following your layered confession. Soon enough he was squeezing your hand as well, “me too.”
You didn’t get to see his face as he began pulling you along again.
-_-
On the next island, your friend once again dealt with an issue. Well he dealt with it prior to you even getting there. Due to some Marine’s negligence, there were sea kings terrorizing the locals of said island. Three sea kings to be exact. You found that out when you were greeted with cheers as you docked right after helping Ace take them out so you could arrive safely. Free food, free lodging, among other things were offered to the two of you.
Given you had contributed somewhat, you didn’t mind, the food was going to be made from the Sea King meat anyway. You also didn’t mind much when all the joy resulted in a revelry with your companion at the center of it all. 
You sat, a mug of spicy cocoa in one hand, your cheek pressed into the other as you watched him, arm in arm with other men, children, and the occasional lady: smiling, laughing, celebrating. 
Were the shadows lingering deep within the waters? Or were they on the verge of bursting forth from just beneath the surface you wondered.
There was no denying you loved seeing this side of your beloved friend. Joy suited him well. You just couldn’t help but be concerned that it wasn’t unburdened.
Oh! He was looking at you now. 
He waved you over with an excited smile, to which you raised your mug of cocoa. That made him furrow his brow. Before you knew it he was marching over to you, snatching your hand again, and dragging you to join him. He was kind enough to wait for you to chug your cocoa…well…kinda. He chugged a bunch of it for you when you couldn’t get through it fast enough.
After attempting to do the local dance with him, and laughing along with the crowd at your miserable failure to do so, you were invited to eat some more. In true Ace manner, he fell asleep mid bite, causing everyone to panic. You on the other hand simply chuckled and did your part: lifting his head, wiping his face and his bangs, before gently placing his cleaned head on the table and adjusting his hair a bit. You then unpacked your shawl and transformed it into a makeshift pillow, before sliding it under your unconscious companion’s head. 
It would seem that display resulted in some misunderstandings as the lodging you were offered subsequently was a single room with a bed of a moderate size meant to be shared. You were too embarrassed to ask for a change given they’d given you this room out of their own generosity. The man to your side didn’t seem bothered by it though. Well, it wouldn’t be all that bad really. 
Or so you thought. 
Or so you thought.
Because the former commander was not a peaceful sleeper. You woke up as you’d fallen asleep for the most part. If you’d shifted while sleeping then it wasn’t anything too drastic. Ace on the other hand was a complete starfish. His forearm was on your neck, one of his legs bent over your stomach, with his head off his pillow and a hair’s breadth away from rolling off the bed.
And when his head did inevitably roll off, while you were trying to figure out how and if you even wanted to untangle yourself or not, it took the rest of him with it. As anyone who grew up the way he did would, his instincts kicked in and you found yourself being dragged across the bed while he crashed onto the ground loudly - groaning as he did. You’d ended up tightly tangled in the covers now, with part of Ace’s weight pulling it taut and making it difficult to roll out of the cocoon it had wrapped around you.
When you asked him to get off of your cover, he began apologizing, “ah jeez, did I wake you?” You hated the guilt seeping into every word. “Sorry.”
“Nope,” you shook your head, still tightly bound in the covers, “I woke up right before the disaster struck.”
He didn’t look completely convinced that was the case, so you decided to elaborate: “I was trying to figure out how to get up without disturbing your sleep, when you rolled off.”
He raised a brow at you, and you shot him a pointed look of your own, pursing your lips to further solidify your stance in this staring war. Seems like it paid off because soon enough his shoulders shook with his chuckles. You soon found yourself chuckling along, which of course reminded you that you were still stuck.
“Uh Ace,” you wiggled about, tugging at the cover still under his bottom, “a little help.”
“Oh yeah! Sorry!” He was grinning as he moved aside this time, going so far as to clamber up onto the bed again and help unroll your burrito self. He chuckled at your bedhead when you finally got free, his eyes crinkling and his dimples popping up as he looked at your disheveled appearance. 
It was weird. 
Feeling at ease and self-conscious all at once that is. He’d seen you in worse states, yet you still wanted to look pretty in front of him.
Though as his calloused hands came to pat down the mess your head had gotten itself into to help you get it under control, the emotional pendulum swung more towards being at ease. 
“Y’know,” he hummed as he continued to pat and play with your hair, “I think I like this look on you!”
Just like that you were slung straight back into unease, the heat clambering up your face. You groaned and covered your face, pulling away from him-and receiving a little complaint-as you threw yourself back on the pillows.
“What’s with that reaction?”
You turned away from him, still covering your face. “Oi!” His hand was on your arm turning you back towards him. “Don’t hide from me.”
You decided to peek out from behind your hands, “you know most people don’t say ridiculous bedheads look good.”
“Well yours does!” He grinned, ruffling your hair without any regard for how difficult it may be to style.
You huffed, lips gently curving upwards. You were blanketed by a gentle warmth, and it wasn’t from the sun. No this warmth could only be achieved in the presence of the man beside you. You let yourself look at him as you smiled - and he mirrored your expression. 
-_-
After that first day on the island you started to feel bad about not paying for things, so you decided to offer labor in exchange given the islanders wouldn’t take your berries. At the bath house you fixed a few things around the lady’s home, then bathed. When it came to the food, you washed some dishes in the back including all of the dishes both you and Ace ate out of. He helped of course. 
The rest of your day was spent wandering around, reading newspapers and picking up information from conversations. At one point the two of you separated to explore different areas. You found a cute little shop where you could make things out of wood. When its artisans noticed you staring, they invited you inside. They’d even taught you some basics before leaving you to your own devices with your own small slab of wood.
You became completely absorbed within the atmosphere the shop had to offer, completely losing track of time with the family of artisans as you all worked with gentle conversation flowing. You hadn’t fully realized just how much time had passed until you heard the breathless voice of your traveling companion, frantically inquiring if they’d seen you. Of course he noticed you soon enough, given you’d turned to look at him.
“There you are!” He beamed, relieved to see you,  before his expression flipped into something frustrated.
“Oh my!” The voice of a lady, who’d been patiently teaching you how to whittle, cut into your conversation. “Dear, we had so much fun we didn’t realize we’d worked ourselves well into the evening!”
Sure enough when you turned to the clock it was nearing 10:30 in the evening. The sun had set at least three hours ago. Oh. Looking back to Ace, you paid closer attention to the fact that he was still breathing heavily.
He’d been worried. 
But why? It wasn’t that late. What had he come across during his time wandering on his own?
Hmmm…you could empathize with his concern, though that wasn’t enough to completely appease you. After all it wasn’t like he didn’t go missing for hours on end. You still remember the panic of going about searching the island for him: especially when he was still in bandages!
“Seems like now you know how I feel when you go missing,” you stood up, patting the wood shavings from your project off your lap, and taking off the apron.
“You!” You could almost see the little flickers of flames coming off of his barely clothed shoulders. “I thought something happened to you!”
The father of the little family of artisans began laughing loudly, standing up to give Ace a pat on the shoulder, “now now, I know you’re frustrated,” then he leaned up and whispered something into the former commander’s ear.
Ace’s eyes met yours for an instant before his face and shoulders turned red, his eyes going as wide as saucers, and a little flame flared out from his head. When the older man laughed some more, the pirate tore his gaze away and put on his hat so it covered his face, grumbling, “thanks for the advice.” 
Looking back up at you-face still pink-he announced, “we need to get going.”
“Just a moment, I need to sweep away my wood shavings,” you responded.
“Why don’t the two of you stay for dinner?” It was the elder lady - the grandmother of this quaint family - that offered.
You smiled and shook your head, “I appreciate the offer,” then you jabbed a thumb at your companion, “but this man can eat twice or even three times his weight in food.”
“Hey!”
You turned to him, your smile cheeky, “I’m glad you can.”
That took the wind out of his sails entirely. It was a bit unfair of you, but you really were glad that he could eat like he used to. The whole event was settled and you were promptly shooed out, your shavings left on the floor, as they intended to work some more and there was no point in you sweeping before they finished. 
“Come back tomorrow to finish your work, alright sweetie?” Was the parting they gave you, and you agreed to return the following day.
Ace took your hand the moment you were outside the little family shop, grip tight on yours as he led you through the dimly lit streets. “I got us a room with two beds this time,” he said, eyes forward, “it’s at a different inn though.”
“Oh,” was all you could say, “are you - are you okay?” You squeezed his hand in yours. “I was a little insensitive earlier.”
The action made him halt altogether, his shoulders dropping the tension they were holding as he breathed out. 
“I saw some Marines,” oh. That explained his earlier outrage.
“What’re they here for?” You sped up a little to look at his face. “Do you know?”
“Remember those sea kings we took down?”
“They’re here to finally deal with them?”
“Yeah,” he nodded, “now they’re just staying here because the island folk are mad at them for ignoring them for months.”
“Urgh.”
The corruption and hypocrisy of the Marines was something you had always been critical of. Of course this meant you were also privy to the hypocrisy and hegemony of the World Government (more like World’s Ratified Mafia). And of course such knowledge and attitudes were absolutely intolerable under their dictatorship so soon enough you had a humble bounty on your head.
Justice. 
They had gone and assumed themselves infallible deities: justifying all their behavior through the abuse of the word, they’d completely perverted the concept of justice.
Urgh the sheer egotism.
Disgusting. 
“I saw them not too far from the Mini Moby when I went there looking for you,” he broke you out of your angry reverie, “then I couldn’t find you anywhere.”
You squeezed his hand, “thank you for worrying about me.”
He squeezed your hand back, a silent “you’re welcome.”
“Good thing my bounty doesn’t have a photo right?” 
The marines could never get a clear shot of you for some reason…
“The most they had was a really awful looking drawing, like Blackleg from the Straw Hats!”
Ace’s lips pulled into a massive, very amused grin. 
You still remembered the way he’d laughed himself to the ground, little tears forming in the corners of his eyes when he first saw the wanted poster. Even Marco and…Thatch…had gotten a laugh out of it. 
“It looks nothing like you!”
“What do you mean?” You grinned holding the paper up to your face. “You mean my nose doesn’t look like a carrot?”
And they’d laughed some more. Ace’s laugh was especially memorable, his strong shoulders shaking, his freckled face completely consumed by unbridled mirth. You never stood a chance - sweet, with a smile like that?
You never stood a chance.
“They didn’t see you right?” After all, his wanted poster was much clearer than yours. 
“Nope,” he shook his head, “I’m keeping a low profile until we get back to the New World,” he winked at you, “like we agreed.”
“Good!” You squeezed his hand again.
Later, you’d squeeze his shoulder as you shook him awake. 
Nightmares.
You moved out of the way just in time as he gasped himself awake, chest heaving as he panted for air. He looked around frantically as you soothed him. Which was when he finally turned to look at you. You’d barely gotten a sentence out before he’d tugged at you, crushing you into his embrace.
Your nose was essentially being crushed against his right pectoral muscle. It hurt a bit, so you pat his back while squirming to liberate your nose. He loosened his hold for a moment and you quickly adjusted to be in a more comfortable position, before you were once again being crushed into him. 
You held him back of course.
But not before he could readjust his hold so that his head rested on your chest-more specifically his ear.
Oh.
You began tracing your fingers along his scalp as they weaved through his thick locks. Had his nightmare featured you this time? His grip on you only tightened, a shiver wracking through him before you heard a shuddering breath.
“Ace,” you hummed in an attempt to soothe him again, “Ace, I’m okay,” you tried to keep your tone soft, “I’m okay.”
He nodded, but continued clutching you, body trembling under trapped his emotions within it. You on the other hand continued to run your fingers through his hair, with him gradually getting heavier and heavier in your hold. His grip loosened slightly as his consciousness slipped - if you waited a bit you’d be able to slip out and back into your own bed.
Looking at him, you could see the remnants of his tears sparkle on his lashes. You wished he’d just let himself cry more openly, rather than fight to bottle it up. 
A quiet sigh left you as you looked at the man in your hold, people really were as beautiful as their souls. You continued to play with his hair, basking in the relative silence. 
You ought to tell him that to his face really. Your lips softly pulled upwards as you gently brushed his bangs from his face. 
You wouldn’t have dared to even consider doing that when you first met him: back when he’d convinced you his bravado was confidence. You knew better now though.
He’d probably still tease you if you did. His teasing made him just about intolerable to you initially. 
Yeah…your road to friendship hadn’t been the smoothest. You grinned at the memory, tenderly poking at the little furrow in his brow - coaxing him to relax. He’d very much made you regret your efforts to be kind(er) to him initially with his insufferable teasing. You were reconsidering altogether when he showed up and made amends after realizing he’d gone too far. The teasing remarks soon became playful jabs…which soon became thoughtful discussion when no one else was around.
You smiled at your dear-incredibly dear-friend, and readjusted yourself slightly thinking maybe you could go back to your own bed now. Of course no sooner had you started to consider that, than his grip on you tightened. You’d rather wait a little bit longer to make sure he was definitely asleep enough.
-_-
It was warm.
Too warm.
You found yourself regaining consciousness with a strain of agitation at the temperature your body had achieved while you were resting. You tried to kick off the covers in hopes of revealing your feet and cooling down, however you found that they were much heavier than they ought to be. It wasn’t until you heard a very familiar groan echo throughout the bones of your body that your eyes flew open.
Well…you’d figured out why it was warm.
Soon enough your friend’s eyes also opened, an absolutely criminal pout on his lips. You’d curse Ace’s luck with his genes if they weren’t why he suffered so much all his life. Though you didn’t get to admire him for long as he blinked himself back to the conscious realm, slowly realizing the position he was in, the position you were both in. At which point, a similar kind of alarm found its way onto his expression as he looked up at you.
“Good morning?” You tried.
That was all it took for him to hurriedly grant you freedom from his clutches…and some relief from the heat. Once you were both seated a respectable distance apart, though still on the bed, he shot you a sheepish look, “guess we didn’t need that second bed after all.”
You found yourself snickering at his comment, him joining in soon after, and with that any and all tension was cast away. You went back to your bed, slipped under the cool sheets and slept for a little longer too. So there was a use for the bed after all.
-_-
The rest of the day went well after the initial surprise and awkwardness. You went back to the wood whittling shop and Ace…well he went about doing his own thing. He came back to find you around night time, he’d already stocked the ship up, and set up camp as this time you’d be camping around the Mini Moby. The pose would reset as of dawn of the following day after all.
Bidding farewell to the quaint little family, you couldn’t help but think back to your own, way back on your home island. You did your best not to let your emotions choke you up. Though it was particularly difficult to hold them all in while you were hugging the lady who was old enough to be your aunt and then the grandmother. It was a pleasant surprise when the lovely family invited you to spend the night chatting until it would be time to leave.
“Hey! I can go catch us some wild animal,” your companion raised a brow at you with a smug little grin pulling at the corner of his lips, so you don’t have to worry about how much we eat, was the part he left unsaid.
“Would that be okay with everyone?” You turned to the homey family, who had absolutely no qualms with the suggestion.
The evening zoomed by: you had a fun dinner, exchanged stories over tea and biscuits, and even played some fun family games. It was after the elderly had retired, and your companion had, true to his nature, fallen asleep mid-bite again, that the more sensitive questions were brought up. In true auntie nature, the auntie-aged lady asked about your “husband,” especially given your lack of wedding bands.
You smiled at the auntie while heating up. She wasn’t wrong in her assumption. Prior to letting you escape with the then-captain of the Spade Pirates, your parents had you and Ace sign a marriage contract.
You appreciated him deeply for going along with it. That your parents would let you marry a wanted man though, even if it was supposedly just on paper, even if it was just for the sake of preserving your honor and dignity, showed just how dire and desperate a situation it had been. That he’d gone along with it though…and was remaining true to the agreements made with your family too…
For a pirate, he was an honorable and trustworthy man.
Then again…even the fearsome Whitebeard had more honor than the allegedly just marines.
So anyway, you didn’t correct the auntie, instead nodding and saying how you two were currently sailing together. She seemed relieved that you didn’t correct her on your relationship status, but she didn’t need to know that it was just a marriage on paper.
-_-
“Mornin’ sleepyhead,” was the greeting you’d gotten when you’d exited the singular cabin on the Mini Moby.
Squinting at the light, you rubbed your eyes and grumbled, “there’s no way it’s still morning.”
“You’re right,” you blinked blearily at your companion as he agreed with you, “it's afternoon.”
Which earned a tired groan from you. Which in turn drew an amused laugh from Ace as he continued adjusting the sails.
“You had fun talking with them didn’t you?”
You hummed in agreement as you shrunk back into the cabin. 
“Hey! Where are you going?”
“Water, I need water,” you croaked, opening the door and re-entering the darker environment. 
It felt nice not needing to squint anymore.
When you made your way back out you were assaulted with another question, “how did they figure out we were ‘married’?” He asked you. 
“I mean if you look at them, they seem marriage oriented and traditional,” you shrugged, “it could be a case of them just getting lucky we were in line with their hopes.”
“No wonder you got along with them so well,” he approached you from the helm, “I had a feeling they reminded you of your family.”
“They did,” you nodded, taking a seat on one of the benches on the small deck.
“I remember your folks giving me a hard time when we just needed to get you off the island before the navy got to you,” he recounted.
“I’m relieved they didn’t arrest any of my family members,” you exhaled deeply.
“You got lucky that it was Smoker that responded to the call,” Ace grinned.
“My mother said the same,” you agreed, “in her letter she said that what Smoker lacked in fashion sense he made up for in reasonability and honor.”
“She’d absolutely hate my sense of fashion then,” he laughed.
“She does,” you deadpanned, earning an even more boisterous laugh from him, “but I think she’d appreciate knowing you kept your promise.”
He raised a brow at you, “you mean the one about not laying a hand on you?” He made a show of taking a moment to think, then, “hmm but I forced you to share a bed with me just the other night.”
“Ace!”
He burst into even more boisterous laughter, “I broke that promise almost immediately while we were on the Spadine!” He was clearly relishing in teasing you, “I was always laying hands on you.”
“You know what they meant by that,” you groaned, “and you only ‘lay hands on me,’” you huffed, “to save me from going overboard and keep me out of trouble! That’s the whole reason we insisted on the contract prior to letting me board the Spadine,” you stoof gesturing to him and then the boat you were currently on, “they knew that you’d need to grab me for my own safety.”
As if to prove your point the ship lurched and you almost went overboard. Luckily Ace had the muscle to pull you onto the deck-or well onto him really, as you came crashing into his chest…which was…still clothed! Seems he’d forgotten to take his shirt off - which was currently to your benefit, so you weren’t complaining.
Looking up at him as he held you to him, you gave him a dry look, “see what I mean?”
“Yeah,” he grinned at you, readjusting his hold on you as another wave rocked the ship, “but, I’ve been pretty handsy this last year,” he cocked an eyebrow up, “wouldn’t you say?”
You found yourself heating up. What was he trying to achieve teasing you like this? You instead sent him your most unimpressed stare and he laughed some more. 
“Everyone needs a hug sometimes,” you grumbled, “I wouldn’t call that being handsy.”
You could feel his chuckles from where he held you, you could hear them loud and clear through his chest. You needed to get some space between you. Though you couldn’t even begin to move away before the waves threw you onto him again.
The sooner the two of you regrouped with Marco, the better. You needed to get yourself under control. Having Marco around would help. Probably. You tried not to touch him any more than necessary as you gingerly removed yourself from his grasp and moved away a bit looking for a way to make yourself helpful.
“I think the island after this is Saobody,” Ace grinned tugging on the ropes for the sail as he deftly maneuvered your small vessel, “after that we can get to the New World.”
“Well we’d have to go to Ryuguu first,” you corrected, “I wonder how Madame Sharly is doing.”
“Madame Sharly?” He glanced away from the waters to raise a brow at you. “I thought you didn’t agree with her fortune telling.”
“I don’t,” you approached him to help where you could, “but there’s no denying she’s gorgeous,” you took a rope, “and soothing to listen to.”
“So I’m competing with a mermaid?” He shook his head.
“Competing how?” Was he trying to be the most soothing presence in your life or something?
Ace looked startled by your question, furthering your confusion. He blinked at you silently once before sheepishly scratching the back of his head, “it’s…nothing.”
“But how would you be competing with a mermai-” you found yourself nearly thrown off again by the ship lurching yet again. Your work on the ropes came undone as you held onto them for dear life. It wasn’t a moment and a large, warm hand helped pull you back up and helped you regain your footing.
You couldn’t help but notice the ink on your friend’s wrist as he gently pried the ropes out of your hands and secured them himself. You stood there for a moment watching as he deftly tied them up before shaking yourself out of your reverie and making your way to the helm instead. 
-_-
You actually ended up at Saobody Archipelago. Which was convenient. Now it was just a process of trying to get your little ship coated. Oh and to avoid marines and all that. 
Unfortunately the “friendly neighborhood ship coater Ray-san” wasn’t available. Only that made sense. He was with Luffy, training him. His partner was manning the joint though. You weren’t sure of their relationship status but, “if I were Mr. Rayleigh I’d make sure to at least attempt to propose to you.”
That earned you a chuckle from the lovely lady, “mmm some men can be cowardly in the romantic arena,” she was grinning.
Which was when you heard choking to your left - it was Ace, thankfully he’d started coughing. You immediately began patting his back, and then turned back to the lady, “So um Ms. Shakky, would you happen to know how to coat a ship?”
“Nope,”  Shakky took a puff of her cigarette, “I run the bar. Rayleigh runs the coating service.”
And he’s the most trustworthy man to coat the ship on the archipelago. Well…
“Can you suggest any other coating services?” You tried.
She hummed as she took a drag off her cigarette, before elegantly tapping out some ashes into an ashtray. Breathing out she grinned at you, “I don’t think you have to bother with looking for anyone else.”
Well that had the potential to be ominous.
“Are you saying he’ll be back soon?” It was Ace who was asking the question through his coughs.
“Oh did he say he’s on his way back?”
“No, just my intuition,” her expression looked fairly amused before it settled into something more cheshire. 
She was humming as she studied you, “I have to say you do have a way of making a woman feel appreciated dear,” she threw a wink your way.
“I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable,” you sheepishly returned her smile, “my friends and I used to ‘flirt’ with each other all the time to express our love for one another and y’know?” you shrugged. “Boost each other’s confidence, all that.”
Shakky rested her cheek on her palm as she chuckled at you, “it didn’t make me uncomfortable at all, it’s very cute,” she looked over to your side, “wouldn’t you say so Porto-chan?”
He sputtered, almost choking on his drink again, “way to put a guy on the spot huh Shakky?”
She giggled at him,before turning back to you, “I’m sure this was only between you and your girl friends, given Porto-chan’s reaction here.”
“Well I wouldn’t want to give any guys the wrong idea,” you shrugged.
“True,” Shakky tapped out some more ashes, once again glancing to your side. 
-_-
True to what Shakky had said, Rayleigh came back not three days later. When you mentioned that she had really strong intuition he’d let out an amused whistle and, “women’s intuition can be scary,” before regaling you all with the tale of how Shakky’d been on the mark with something else.
The Pirate Empress, The Most Beautiful Woman in the World, Boa Hancock herself, had fallen in love, and fallen pretty hard. You heard the beautiful woman whose presence you were currently in giggle with, “see, I told you Monkey-chan was pretty good looking.” 
“Scary,” Rayleigh grinned as he breathed the word, “you women and your intuition are scary.”
“Eh?!” Ace was the one to vocally react. “She’s in love with Luffy?!”
Somehow his surprise was what had you laughing. “He’s a real charmer that Luffy, isn’t he?” You beamed at his older brother who looked like a mix of surprised, proud, and disbelieving all at once…maybe even a tinge jealous? “He takes after his brother.”
His owlish stare turned to you, and you saw a little lick of fire escape off his shoulders. All the while you simply shot him a lopsided grin given one cheek was smushed into your first. 
You’d briefly met Luffy while with Ace in Arabasta. He reminded you of Ace in some ways: bright, bombastic, straightforward…reckless…and…very loving. There was one thing about Luffy though: you could say he was more honest about his feelings and less prone to prejudice - oh! Though you’d also say that while Luffy was dependable, Ace felt more responsible, which made sense given he was the older one of the two. You wondered what sort of kindness Luffy extended to the Pirate Empress that she fell for him.
“Whatcha thinking about there?” You blinked yourself out of your trance as you felt a warm finger poke at your forehead.
You looked up into your dear (oh so dear) companion’s eyes and felt yourself melt at the warmth they held, “I’m wondering which of Luffy’s traits caused the Pirate Empress to fall.”
He huffed, and you found yourself following the corner of his lip as it curled upwards, “he’s always had a way with people, that kid brother of mine.”
His gaze was distant, as though he was looking at something very far in the past. Or perhaps not that far away really, these descriptors could be relative.
“So how is Luffy?” You turned to Rayleigh. “Is he doing well?”
The old man’s expression could be described in a singular word: proud. “He’s got another six months of training by himself, but I’m sure he’ll be fine,” he turned his gaze to another person in the room, “he’s real excited to see his crew, and his brother again.”
The beaming smile on Ace’s face said more than words ever could.
-_-
The evening before you would depart for Fishman Island, you’d gone to take a stroll alongside your dear friend. The tree canopies got in the way of you being able to see the stars, but the bubbles twinkled in their stead. 
You turned to study your beloved’s form yet again. Your hands squeezed the straps of your pack, soon enough the world would know about him - that he’d survived. They’d be back to hunting him down, only with twice as much zeal. Marines and enemies of his late father alike.
“What?” He glanced at you, raising his eyebrow. “Do I still have salsa on my face or something?”
You shook your head quickly looking away, “I was just thinking about how, soon enough, you’ll be back to being hunted.”
“Are you worried?” You could hear his amusement, and he even had the gall to laugh when you scowled up at him. “Dumb question, of course you are.”
“Very dumb question,” you grumbled and he laughed some more.
“Hey! I’m pretty strong!”
“I still don’t want to see you get hurt,” you let out a long, tired breath, “when you’re back to officially being a wanted man.”
“Wanted huh?” He was again looking out into the distance, mumbling. “Wanted by everyone but the person I want.”
The person he wanted? 
“Who would that be?” You found yourself asking despite yourself. 
Despite the way your heart hammered at you begging you to remain silent. Despite the way your extremities lost heat. Despite the clammy feeling in your palms as they all but squeezed the straps they held. Despite the ringing in your ears. Despite the way your stomach sloshed as though you’d swallowed a sea storm.
It was such a dangerous question to ask. He’d just said with certainty that the person he wants doesn’t want him - that rules you out. For some reason your thoughts jumped to the Pirate Empress. He mentioned getting to see her while he was stuck in Impel Down.
You watched, your head feeling as though it was full of cotton, as his Adam's apple bobbed with a thick swallow. “Can I…” he wasn’t looking at you as he asked, “can I hold your hands?”
Did he know? Was he trying to hold your hands to let you down slowly? Ace was always a little clumsy with these kinds of things…or was he? He was kind regardless. You had to repay this kindness, so you plastered on whatever smile you could.
If Ace had found someone to love, even if it wasn’t you, you’d be happy for him.You could be heartbroken later, but happy for him now.
You nodded, feeling the pain in your joints as you unclenched them. Your hands were slightly trembling and cold as he held them in his own larger, warmer ones - oh this was a horrible idea! Your hands were starting to get sweaty! Instinctively you started pulling away, “wait my hands - sweat - they’re sweaty!”
“I don’t care,” he tightened his hold on your hands, and as he spoke you noticed, “so are mine.”
He looked at you, and he seemed absolutely convinced of something. You kept up your little smile. 
“I,” he swallowed again, bringing your hands closer to his chest, “I don’t think I can keep my promise to your parents,” a little flame escaped his shoulder as he said that, “I-” he pulled your hands even closer to him, “I want to be real.” 
What?
“I mean I want our relationship-er-marriage to be real!” He rushed to correct himself. “I want to be with you! But in a real relationship! Not just on paper! I want you - ah!” More flames escaped his shoulders as he got louder. “No! Not like that! I mean yes like that- but not just like that! I mean I want - can I?”
He threw his head back, a loud groan of frustration leaving him, meanwhile you just stared at him, brain abuzz as it tried to process what he was saying. He looked at you again, determined expression back full force, “can I be your husband? Your real husband? Can I be,” he glanced away before mumbling, “yours?”
Your mouth had opened slightly to let some air in. The world was almost spinning - save for Ace. The warmth that was flooding your body was practically dizzying. Something stuck out to you - well two things as your legs gave out and Ace lunged to soften your landing and crouch in front of you, in that silly way he always did, still holding your hands. 
“You can’t keep your promise to my parents?” You blinked at him.
“That’s what you heard?” He groaned.
“No I heard it all Ace,” your breaths were heavy, “my brain’s struggling to keep up,” you gulped, “give me a minute to catch up.”
“No, I don’t think I can,” he shook his head, cheeks fully flush as he looked away from you, “I want our relationship to be real… and my promise-it wasn’t a problem back then-but now..” 
He trailed off, struggling to make eye contact with you as he admitted, “now, it’s a major problem,” he shook his head at you seriously, “I can’t keep it. I want to have a real relationship - I’d regret not trying to have a real relationship with you.” 
He did not shy away as he concluded his confession, “the promise gets in the way.”
You blinked at him, finding the air suddenly too warm.
“Can,” you gulped, head still full of static and the sound of the heavy thumping of your heart, “can you ask me to be yours?”
He blinked at you confused by the response, so you pressed on, “instead of - instead of,” your bottom lip was trembling and you could feel heat radiate from your cheeks, “asking to be mine,” was this a dream?
Your heart did some kinda fancy somersault at the way Ace straightened at your last word, much like he would whenever he was excited about something.
“Are you asking me to call you mine, like that?” He leaned into your space.
You couldn’t help the way your whole body was zapped to attention at the giddiness that consumed it when the word: “mine,” left Ace’s lips.
He looked at you with an equal amount of giddiness upon comprehending what your question implied, and his bravado seemed to find him again - but more than that, it was hope that pulled his lips into a massive, luminous grin as he asked, “then, will you be mine?”
When your lips wobbled into a smile, he decided to continue on, “y’know be my wife? My real wife?”
Your head was moving up and down in agreement before you were fully aware of it, “yes.”
You barely registered the pure unadulterated joy, and maybe even the glimmer of liquid in your…husband’s eyes before he was pulling you into a tight hug, gurgled chuckles leaving him. You weren’t any better, you were practically clinging to him as you began to sob, the salty blobs washing away the maelstrom of emotions with liquid relief. You might have felt some wetness on your own shirt.
You probably had, with how he sounded wobbly when asking, “did I make you cry, darlin’?”
Which of course made your tears worse, as you gulped and tried to force yourself to be calm, “I’m just happy it was me.”
He chuckled, “who else could it be?”
Who else - well…wait.
“But, are you sure?” You let go to look at him, his brow furrowed and lips pursed in confusion. “Are you sure this isn’t just because of the past year and a half where all we had was each other?”
His frown deepened for a moment before it relaxed into something sheepish, “I think I started feeling this way since,” he paused to think about it, “maybe even before Pops took me in.” 
“You mean when you were still captain of the Spades?”
“You don’t have to sound so surprised,” he chuckled some of his nerves out, “you’re a real catch y’know?” He raised a brow at you. “I even had to play the husband card a few times back then.”
“Really?” You paused to think about it. “I remember us arguing most of the time back then.”
“Yeah, I remember I used to complain to Deuce about that,” he let out a hearty laugh, “but remember that time when everyone was celebrating-”
“And I found you sitting by yourself in the crow’s nest when I went up to hide from everyone?”
“Yeah,” it was there - the wistful quality to Ace, “that was probably when this all started.”
“Wasn’t I just talking about why I had a bounty on my head back then?” You tried to remember.
“Yeah,” he sighed out, “you were really passionate about it too,” there was a dopey quality to his smile, “and I couldn’t help it - you reminded me of my brother and I thought you were really smart.”
“Sabo?” You asked tentatively.
He nodded, “in the beginning it was because of that - I just wanted to be by you and hear everything you had to say, it made me feel like my brother was alive again.”
“That explains the way you kept nagging me back then.”
“Nagging?”
“That’s how it felt to me back then.”
He shrugged, “when we were on the Moby Dick though - I stopped thinking of Sabo, I just wanted to know what you had to say.”
“Really?” He chuckled as you lit up. You wondered if he realized how deeply his confession touched you.
“Really!” He grinned at you, and you felt a warmth wrap around you like a warm blanket.
He looked so boyish as he shrugged, “ anyway, Marco tried to push me to confess to you after I woke up,” he grabbed your hand, tracing your knuckles with his thumb, “he told me all about how much I made you worry,” he turned your hand over in his, “but I was too scared to believe it meant anything.”
“Marco knew about it?” You asked when he was done.
“Everyone knew!” He chuckled. “Heck even Pops knew,” he grinned now looking at the tattoo that sat on his pulse, “of course they knew, I pulled out the husband card on some swabbies.”
He burst out laughing, “you should’ve seen their faces!” He calmed down. “It wasn’t so funny when the commanders heard me though-” he grimaced, but smiled soon enough. 
“I’m glad they did though,” he went back to rubbing warm circles into your skin, “forced me to reckon with myself,” he looked into your eyes, “put a name to what I was feeling.”
“Put a name to what you were feeling?” You breathed out - head as light as ever. “What did you come up with?”
You watched his shoulders rise and fall with the deep breath he took, as though steeling himself again. There was a ferocity in his gaze as it locked onto yours, “I was jealous,” he brought the hand he held to his lips letting them carve his answer into your skin, “whenever I saw someone else trying to win you over,” his hand squeezed yours as yet another wave of heat crashed over you, “I felt jealous and gross because it wasn’t like you were really my wife.”
“I’m not good enough for you,” what was he- “but your parents told me to protect you. And I would -will, and not because they asked me to. I just want to.”
“Ace,” you felt the warmth foment into wrath instead, “you’re confusing me,” you frowned, yanking your hand back, “what do you want from me?”
You saw it then, a flicker of the shadows of the monsters beneath the waters.
You loved Ace. You knew this. You knew that it made you lenient towards him at times. But right now…no. You needed clarity.You weren’t about to enter this new stage on shaky foundations. Because you loved him you couldn’t afford to be lenient about this.
“You ask to be mine,” you couldn’t help the way the fear seeped into your words, “then tell me you aren’t good enough for me,” you looked away with a frown, “I know you don’t have the best idea about yourself, but…just…” you were struggling to put words to it, “what are you trying to achieve?”
When you looked at him again, his eyes were wide, his mouth slightly ajar. He probably didn’t expect things to go like this. Especially given you could have said they’d been going well initially, until you ruined things with your overthinking…but still…you didn’t want some kind of accidental or pity romance. You didn’t want Ace to feel indebted to you, or make decisions while confused or vulnerable.
Though as you looked at him, all the shock left his body, his singular brow arching in that unique way it did with him, while his lips curved up. “Hey, can I hold your hand again?”
“O-kay?” Where was he going with this?
He took your hand again, carefully spread out your fingers, and then pressed it to chest, right above his heart, like he had back when you’d started hyperventilating. He held it there and you could feel the rabid, slightly erratic pattern it was taking, “y’feel that?”
You nodded.
“You’re right,” he was sheepish, “telling you I’m jealous, and that I want you to be mine, and that I can’t keep a promise to keep my hands off of you makes it sound like I’m really horny, huh?”
He was laughing as you sputtered in embarrassment, and held your palm firm to his chest, “to be honest with ya, I really like having your hand on my chest here - kinda wish I wasn’t wearing a shirt really.”
“Ace!” You barely garbled out.
“I think you’re amazing,” he continued, holding firm - and you could feel his heart pounding under your palm, “and like you said, I hate the cursed blood I carry.”
“It’s not-”
“But you know how I said I want to live a life without regrets?” You stopped struggling. “I’m not good enough, never will be, not for you,” his hand squeezed yours, pushing it further against his chest, “but, I’d regret not trying to be good enough, I’d regret not shooting my shot.”
“How can you say that with such certainty?” You frowned. “What if I’m not good enough for you?”
“What’s that thing you like to say?” He hummed. “It’s my opinion?”
“I hate your opinion.”
He guffawed. “I’m a coward,” he confessed as he calmed down, “and a selfish bastard,” his smile rivaled the sun, “but I wanna spend the rest of my life with you, even if I’m not worthy.”
“You are,” you glared at him.
His expression went back to that charmingly confused one. “I’ve deemed you worthy,” you huffed - genuinely upset with how he was speaking about himself, “regardless of all this worthy-worthy talk, you’re the one I want to spend my life with too.”
You genuinely could not find it in you to care how cute his grin was right now, “and that’s the worst proposal I could receive!” You were fuming. “I hate it when you insult yourself like that!”
“I’m below you, but please accept me,” you scowled, “well no can do!”
His face fell at your rant. “I want an equal Ace,” you gestured with your free hand, “I want a partner, not an indentured servant! I don’t want to be put on a pedestal! If my husband isn’t willing to be on equal footing with me then-”
“Hey that wasn’t what I meant!” The object of your fury (and affections?) argued. “I’m just saying you’re out of my league!”
“That’s one thing to say,” you were rather animatedly ranting now, “and we’ll have to agree to disagree on that-because hot stuff you’re within a league of your own,” you continued what was likely years worth of frustration with his self-deprecation leaving you, “and for argument’s sake, let’s say you weren’t - that sounds like an excuse not to work hard to become worthy once I accept you!” 
“I didn’t mean that at all!” He cut into your rant. “‘Sides I already said I’m gonna bust my ass trying to be good enough for you!”
“Well that’s all any girl would ask for! You absolute dumbass!” You yelled back at him. “No one wants to hear their loved ones talk smack about themselves the way you do!”
“Just imagine we had kids one day and they hear their father talking about himself in such an awful way!” Seriously, where did this idiot come from? Talking about himself in such a terrible way. “What kind of lessons would you be teaching them? What kind of example are you setting? They’d learn to-”
“Kids?” He blinked owlishly at you - oh.
Ohhh…
Ohhhh nnnoooooo.
If he wasn’t holding your hand to his chest, you’d have put more distance between you two, but for now you’d have to settle for covering your face with one hand while looking away. It was silent for a long minute…was it a minute? You weren’t sure, but you felt Ace’s chest vibrate with a series of chuckles and braced yourself.
“You’re a real difficult woman to please, y’know?” You met his amused stare with your own unamused one.
“I don’t want to start our relationship on anything but a solid foundation,” you muttered, “if you don’t feel worthy, then put in the effort to feel worthy.”
His grin only widened, “y’know I’d take that to mean you want me the same way I want you.”
“I think that fact is pretty well established by this point,” you grumbled.
“If I understood everything,” oh he looked so smug right now, “then if I wanna tell you I love you, I can’t say anything about how you’re out of my league?”
“You think I’m out of your league.”
“Oh that’s right, because I’m hot stuff.”
He laughed some more when you rolled your eyes. His laughs died immediately when you said, “you are hot stuff.”
“Because…I’m made of fire?” He gulped.
“No.”
“I forgot how assertive you could get,” he blushed, stunned, “it’s been a while since I pissed you off huh?”
Your embarrassment was beginning to catch up to you, as you adjusted yourself to be able to rest your cheek on your palm. You were avoiding looking at him, even if he was essentially burning a hole into you with how he was unabashedly looking at you.
“That bit about our future kids…I never wanted any, but I’m starting to like the idea,” he was being such a tease.
“Yeah? Well, I want kids!” You huffed, still not looking at him.
“Mmm, even if they’re mine?”
“Especially if they’re yours!” You huffed. “You and the idiots in the World Government are the only people with such a weird fixation on Gold Roger’s blood.”
“Darlin’ you’re being really bold right now,” he was grinning, “how mad at me are you?”
“I’m livid,” you finally turned to glare at him, “you’ve been saying absolutely awful things about my d-dear darling husband! It’s-it’s unforgivable!”
One corner of his lips curled upwards at the way you stuttered, but the little flickers of flames popping off his shoulders revealed he was just as embarrassed as you were. “Sounds like,” he swallowed thickly, “sounds like you really like this husband of yours.”
You swallowed as you looked him in the eyes, “I love him.”
His eyes widened, then he scowled, “hey! I wanted to say it first!”
“Well, be faster next time!” You stuck your tongue out at him - wait. “You did though.”
“Ah! So you did hear me!” He pointed a finger at you, finally releasing your hand, letting it drop from his chest.
“Yeah,” you grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest, “but you were being mean to yourself, so I had more important things to deal with.”
“More important than me telling you I love you?” He looked at you incredulously. “For the first time?”
“Well maybe if you didn’t put yourself down right after,” you poked his nose with your index finger, “I would have focused on the ‘I love you’ part more!”
His eye twitched for all but a moment, expression indignant, “you’re really hot when you’re assertive y’know?” 
You sputtered at that and looked away to maintain some semblance of composure. You didn’t see that coming. He called for you and you looked at him again, “you asked me if I was sure about this.”
You nodded at him, frustration finally cooling down.
“I’ve never been so certain about anything in my life,” he declared, “I want you by my side, I want to be by yours, I want to spend the rest of our lives together until we’re nothing but skeletons in a grave.”
“I love you,” he stated it like it was as factual as the sea being blue, “even when you’re mad and yelling at me for confessing to you badly,” his grin settled for something more solemn as he asked, “what about you? Are you sure?”
“I am,” you nodded, “I want to build a life together. With you.”
“I love you,” he breathed it out like a prayer then, and you couldn’t help but describe his expression as reverent.
“I love you too,” you responded firmly as though it were an irrefutable fact, and you could feel your smile threaten to split your face in two.
“Satisfied?” He asked. “Is this ground solid enough for us?”
“I think so,” you nodded, “I want nothing but success for our relationship.”
“Me too,” he grinned as he ruffled through his pockets, from which he pulled out two velvet boxes. “I got these with-what did you call it again?” He grinned. “Honest money?”
You simply stared at the boxes in shock, then back up at your husband, then back down at the boxes. “What?” There was an amused lilt to his speech. “Y’didn’t think I would confess to you unprepared now did ya?”
You guessed you did, with the surprise you were feeling, as you tentatively reached for one of the boxes and opened it up. To your greatest fortune the silver band was clearly meant for a groom. Your eyes widened when you looked over and saw the ring he’d picked out for you, raising a brow at him you couldn’t help but wonder, “how did you get the funds for this?”
“I did some work around that island we were on,” he beamed, “and sold some of the gifts they gave us when we beat those sea kings.”
“It’s so pretty,” you admired what was going to be your ring, it reminded you a little of fire, the ruby red gem was cut in a teardrop shape however the surrounding gems were arranged in such a way that it looked like a flame, you giggled your shoulders relaxing, “it reminds me of you.”
“That right?” He smiled, removed the ring and packed the box up in his pocket, as he took your left hand in his, “I kinda wanted it to,” he admitted as he slid the ring on your finger.
While you were admiring your finger, Ace tried to grab the other box from you, however you pulled it out of his grasp, “ah ah ahh,” you tutted, “I’ll be the one to do the honors!”
“Yeah,” he nodded, “I really like it when you’re assertive.”
He laughed at you as you pointedly avoided his waggling brows until you had the ring ready. He already had his hand out for you to slide the ring into, seemingly more than happy to wear that symbol that seemed so silly to him…until now, you supposed as you slid the band onto his finger. 
“Should we say vows?” You asked. “Wait, didn’t they say the vows before the rings?”
Ace hooked his pinky with yours, “I promise - er - vow, to…” he gulped and you could feel him heat up, “love…you…uh until I die - for as long as I live?” He slacked. “I’m not great at this poetic stuff.”
“Then don’t be poetic,” you smiled at him, “just say what you want to say.”
“Then,” he tightened his pinky, “I’m gonna work hard every day to be a man worthy of being by your side,” he looked you dead in the eyes, “it’s true that it’s due to pure luck I even got the chance to get to know you, but I won’t ever let this opportunity go. I’ll love you to the day I die, and even beyond that if I can.”
“You already said that,” you smiled at him, “maybe we didn’t need to do vows.”
“I’ll say it every day if you want me to.”
Somehow…somehow…now that you had a ring on your finger, and with your pinky linked to his, and with him reiterating how strongly he felt…somehow…
All you could do was blink at him. 
This was really happening. 
The last remnants of indignation flickered away into the breeze that toyed with the waves of your beloved’s hair.
Oh.
This was…you were…Ace was…you blinked up at him, “is this real life, or am I dreaming right now?”
His determined expression was wiped off with one that was very unamused, “I’m out here pouring my heart to you - wait you dream about me?”
“Maybe once or twice?” You continued to gape at him. Noticing his own surprised expression, you shook yourself out of your trance, and pulled at your joined pinkies. “Oh-yeah, my-my turn.”
His gaze carried that same softness you’d seen for a while now as he waited to hear your vows, “I know it won’t always be easy, the same way painting a masterpiece isn’t easy, but,” you paused your joy teasing your lips, “I am determined to spend the rest of my life here with you,” you looked him straight in the eyes, “you’re worth every bit of love I have to give, and I’ll prove it through my efforts and commitment, I’ll work hard so you’ll never regret choosing me.”
“Never,” he affirmed.
“Using a negative term…feels rather…negative, don’t you think?” You thought aloud.
“Then,” he shook your pinky-linked hands, “I’m going to work hard every day to make sure you’re always happy you married me.”
“And I’m going to make sure you’re always happy you chose me.”
“Always,” he affirmed again, the two of you laughing at the repetition of the pattern.
“Pops was right,” he let go of your pinky.
“About?”
“He kept telling everyone to calm down and stop meddling because our relationship would happen in its own time,” he sheepishly scratched at the back of his neck, “though he did tell me not to wait forever after a while.”
“How long is a while?”
“A few months?”
“Oh pops,” you chuckled as you reached for his tattooed wrist tracing the mark of your late captain, “Marco found out about my feelings for you from Thatch.”
“From Thatch?” He looked surprised. “Marco knew?”
There was betrayal written all over his expression.
“That’s probably why he was pushing you to confess after the war,” you continued to trace his tattoo even as he shuddered, “Marco tried to get me to confess too.”
“He did?”
“It felt wrong,” you shook your head, looking up at him, “you’d nearly died, pops had died, I was a mess mentally, I figured you’d be a mess mentally,” you continued to shake your head as your breathing shallowed, “I told him as much, and he stopped trying to convince me.”
“How’d Thatch find out?”
“Teased me about hosting a wedding banquet given we didn’t have one because y’know?” Your smile was gentle as you remembered the late Fourth Division Commander, your finger resuming its path along the inked mustache. “I told him not to joke about that - and he figured it out immediately.”
“Then he went and told Marco?” Ace guessed. “Wait, I remember there being a day when you were chasing after Thatch on the deck, looking really desperate about something.”
“Yepp,” you nodded, taking in a deep inhale you traced the crossbones on your husband’s skin again, “got him to promise not to tell anyone else after I found out he’d told Marco.”
“Y’know, at that point I was already a goner for you,” he confessed, “and the crew already knew about me.”
A silence passed over the two of you, as you continued to play with the mark on his skin.
“To think…you liked me too?” He scratched the back of his head with the hand not currently in your clutches. “I mean back then!”
“Is it really that surprising?” You pressed down on his pulse a little.
“It’s just,” you looked up at him, “darlin’,” there was that sweet, sweet adage again, “you ended up on my ship due to pure dumb luck,” his hand moved to grab your own that was still tracing his tattoo, “you’re practically a princess in comparison to a pirate like me.”
You scoffed at that, “please, I am far from being a princess.”
“To me you are,” this might be the softest you’ve ever seen your friend, “and this isn’t me talking down about myself,” he poked you in the forehead, “you’re smart, you’ve got a family that wouldn’t hesitate to shoot me dead if I ever tried anything funny-”
You laughed at that bit, “my cousin especially.”
“She was more than ready to have my head and I hadn’t even done anything yet,” he laughed alongside you, “‘the only reason I’m letting you take her is because I have to! Who knows what they’ll do to her in the marine prisons.’ was what she said before threatening to hunt me down.”
You both laughed at that, “if she sees you keep me safe and make me happy she’ll love you, you know?”
“Love me like that?” He raised a brow at you.
“Maybe!” You shrugged.
“You see?” He gently poked your cheek with his knuckle, “you’re royalty. Way out of my league.”
“Technically you’re royalty,” you flicked his forehead.
“How?” His confused expression was absolutely adorable.
“Pops was an Emperor!” You beamed. “You’re a pirate prince.”
The two of you shared a laugh, the ridiculousness of the notion amusing both of you until, “oh that’s right!”
“What is?” Ace startled as you suddenly straightened up, shoving your hand into your own pocket, and pulling out a small wooden plaque attached to an adjustable black cable.
Upon further inspection it became apparent that it was a bracelet - one you’d whittled back at the little family’s shop. On the main plaque there was Whitebeard’s jolly roger, and it was surrounded by two wooden “beads” - could you call them that? One was a flame shape and the other a spade, you’d had to make sure they were thick enough that you could put a hole through either one.
“This is for you!” You beamed at him as you offered it to him.
“Did you make this?” He stared between you and the bracelet.
“Yeah!” You grinned. “I tried making your happy and sad faces, but it didn’t work out, so I made a spade and little flame instead!”
“You sure know how to make a man feel loved,” he gently traced at the jolly roger etched in the wood.
“I hope you always feel loved in my presence,” you beamed.
“I do,” he grinned at you, “so much it’s almost scary,” he held out the bracelet to you, “will you do the honors?”
“With pleasure,” you took the trinket out of his hands and slid it onto his bare, right wrist.
He barked out a laugh, when you went straight back to playing with the tattoo on his pulse. “What’s so funny?” You couldn’t help but ask.
“Nothing,” he shook his head, “I’m just thinking about how we could have been real years ago.”
“In that case weren’t we technically a real couple at that point? If everybody knew?” You rubbed your thumb along his tattooed pulse point. “Except for us, that is.”
“Mmm but I wanted to do, coupley things with you,” he wiggled his eyebrows at you, relishing in how that seemed to make you shy.
Though, it seemed like you weren’t one to simply let him have the last say. You weren’t looking at him as you took his tattooed pulse and brought it to your lips. He jolted at the sensation, heart leaping. Little flames flickering out of his shoulders as you made eye contact with him afterwards, “how’s that for coupley things?”
He was quick to grab and tug you into him, relishing in your mild surprise, “don’t you know better than to play with fire?” He grinned at you as he readjusted the hand that had found its way to your waist. 
“I remember being told I have to ask a lady for permission to kiss her,” he nodded his chin at your lips, “may I?”
You were too embarrassed to say yes, instead choosing to cover your face with your hands. “Ace!” You whined. “Have mercy on me.”
“I didn’t realize you were this shy,” he was chuckling, “where’d your bold attitude go?”
He guffawed when you let out an embarrassed screech at the reminder, “I was absolutely shameless earlier, don’t remind me!”
“I didn’t think so,” oh you could hear the smug grin on his face, “you felt more fierce to me,” he sounded closer, “it’s a real turn on, y’know?”
“Ace!” You garbled out.
He chose to press a little kiss to your forehead instead, “I’m not gonna push you, just teasing you a little is all.”
True to his word, he readjusted his hold, and repositioned the two of you so that he could hug you from behind. He was kinda like a koala bear in that regard.
“Hey Ace?” He gave a small hum in response. “Can I see your tattoo again?”
“You sure like playing with it huh?” He asked as he handed his hand over to you and you turned slightly in his hold.
You could feel his eyes on you as you pressed your thumbs into it, feeling the steady thrum of his heart. Once again, you brought his wrist to gently brush your lips against it, and felt him jolt. Finally you brought his pulse to your forehead, “I’m so happy you’re alive.”
When you turned to face him again, his cheeks were bright, dusted in those freckles you adored, as he smiled, not a shadow in sight, “me too.”
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As always I am OPEN TO CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM, and would like to know if anyone seemed out of character. Please and thank you! Reblogs and comments appreciated!
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yoitsjay · 2 days ago
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hi hi! Ok ok hear me out… what if we and Jason went out clubbing together and we end up somehow forgetting we’re a lightweight and get drunk drunk. Im just craving some fluff of him taking care of usss. Ok anyways thank you so much!! Drink some water :)
-🦇
I love this! Thank you 😊
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Take care of me
Summary: Your drunk, and he takes care of you. (Could probably make a short pt 2 blurb too)
Word count: 2721
A/n: i needed some fluff, thank you anon! Can be red as female or gn, I put both in the tags but there is a mention of tits so, mostly fem.
This was one of the rare times that Jason actually got to act like his age. He just turned 21 (not like he actually obeyed the drinking laws) but he had never been to a club before, and your birthday was right before his, so you both decided to go together, as 21 year olds, having fun.
And despite the amount of people flirting with him, he stuck by your side throughout the whole night, though not even halfway through, your draped across his arm, obviously *very* drunk.
Now he's helping you outside towards the Uber he just called to take both you and him home.
"Dude you're drunk, come on let's go home. I'll take care of you." He muttered softly, helping you into the car.
You let out a soft groan as he helped you into the Uber. You slumped into the back seat, holding your head in your hands as Jason climbed in beside you.
You opened your mouth to speak, only to pause when all you felt was vomit rising to your throat. At least you had enough decency to close your mouth and will it to go away. Instead, you rested your head on Jason's shoulder, groaning again.
He chuckled quietly at how out of it you were, patting you gently on the shoulder as the car began to move. He glanced down at you as you rested your head on his shoulder.
"You okay?" He murmured gently, though you shook your head. He snorted "You better not throw up in this car or I'll make *you* pay the guy." His tone was gently teasing as he poked you.
You let out another soft groan, turning your face and pressing it into Jason's arm, like you were trying to hide it.
"Shut up." You grumble quietly, feeling the Uber begin to drive through traffic to your apartment. Your arm immediately gripped around Jason's, as if grounding yourself so you didn't vomit. This was definitely going to be a long night, in his opinion.
Soon enough however, you arrived at your apartment building. With Jason's arm around your waist, you made your way up to the elevator, and to your floor of the building.
He chuckled silently under his breath at your drunk mumbling as he wrapped his arm around your waist, keeping you upright. He was silently glad you were holding onto his arm, if you leaned on him anymore he'd probably fall over too… though not really, he was like a brick wall.
"Come on, let's get you to your apartment before you pass out in the hall." He teased, helping you keep your balance as you walked down the hall. How he *didn't* feel drunk bewildered you, though you didn't say anything.
He leaned you against the wall as he fished your keys out of your pocket, unlocking the door and opening it for both of you. You didn't mind, in fact, your sober mind was probably grateful that he even knew what pocket your keys were in, so he didn't have to frisk you to find out.
That would be awkward.
Once the door was open, you tried to push yourself up, though you could feel your knees begin to buckle, and you quickly grasped on to your brick wall of a friend, groaning.
"I'm never drinking again." You murmured, letting him lead you inside, up the stairs of your loft to where your bed resided.
You laid down, hugging the pillows close, before tensing up. "Jason-" you choked out, looking at him as you sat up, clutching your stomach. "Trash can-”
Jason's eyes widened slightly and quickly scrambled, searching your apartment for a trash can, which he quickly found, and dashed back to your side. "Here." He said quickly, holding the trash can in front of you just as you started tossing up your birthday shots.
He cringed slightly, holding up your hair and rubbing your back as you hunched over. Why couldn't you have just drank water like he told you to?
though, those thoughts were not the ones running through your mind right now, rather:
Jason was a good friend. That was the only thing really running through your mind as he held your hair up with one hand, and rubbed your back with the other as you clutched the trash can and threw up all the alcohol, and what little food you did eat that night.
You knew he told you to drink water, but that was the night for you to act like a reckless 21 year old.
Boy did you fucking regret it.
Once you finished vomiting, you groaned, lifting your head up slowly as you grabbed some tissues from your bedside table, wiping your lips before tossing the tissue into the trash, slumping against your friend.
"M'sorry" you whimpered out, tears welling in your eyes. Ah, here come the drunk tears. "I'm a bad friend, s- shoulda listened to you." You sniffed, trying to blink away the tears.
Jason couldn't help but chuckle at your drunken tears though, he could already tell you were going to be hung over the living hell tomorrow. *he'd keep you company though.*
He rubbed your shoulders as you slumped against him, shaking his head gently.
"You're not a bad friend, just a bit drunk." He teased you. *And maybe a bit of an idiot for not listening to him.*
"Why don't you get some rest, yeah?" He mutters softly, you hummed in response, looking up at him with teary eyes before you blinked, and nodded.
"Okay." You muttered, nodding your head again. "Can you grab me... water... please?" You asked him, trying your best not to slur your words. "I'm gonna change." You grumbled to herself. *or at least try too*.
Jason nodded, slowly helping you sit up and then standing up on his own, walking down the stairs, looking around your kitchen before finding the water.
He filled a glass full and then grabbed a couple of painkillers for when you woke up, heading back up the stairs.
"I'm back, here's your water." He said gently, handing you the water and the painkillers.
When he had come back, you had managed to get the back of your dress unzipped, and down to your hips, but you were face planted on your bed, sobbing, because you couldn't get the zipper down the rest of the way to get it down your legs.
When you heard Jason come back, you turned your head and extended your arms to him and made grabby hands in his general direction, not really caring at the moment that he was seeing her in your bra, just grateful for the painkillers and water, which you took somewhat clumsily, still laying down, before setting them down on the nearby side table.
"Need your help." You pleaded, looking up at him with the classic puppy eyes, like your favorite emoji ‘🥹’. "Zippers stuck.” You whined out.
He couldn't help chuckling at the sight of you crying on the bed, face down on your mattress as you tried to unzip your dress. *Why did you pick today to be drunk?* he asked himself. Though, the answer was quick to follow. The big 2 1 birthday.
He sighed and walked over to you, holding back more of his laughing as he looked down at you, before nodding. "Yeah, alright, turn around." He said to you, his voice holding suppressed laughter.
"Don't laugh at me!" You cried out, grasping at his arms as he helped you up to your feet, before helping you turn around. You gently brushed your hair over one shoulder, showing off how the dress was bunched up around your hips, the zipper just needing to be tugged down a bit more so you could get the dress off.
"Your mean." You grumbled to yourself, though you didn't mean it, of course.
He just smiled and rolled his eyes as he got you up and turned around. You looked so pathetic, but he couldn't help finding you cute like this. But now was not really the time to be thinking dirtier thoughts. You were his best friend, and he needed to take care of you.
"Sure." He agreed sarcastically, looking at your back, admiring the smooth skin, the few healed scars that littered it, thinking to himself *damn.* only to mentally slap himself in the face.
He grabbed the zipper with one hand, and braced his other on your shoulder blades and carefully tugged it down lower, then stepped back to give you room to kick it off, glancing away as he did so.
You let out a little huff of relief, and you shoved down the dress, kicking it off your legs, along with your heels as you sat down on the bed, glancing up at Jason.
"Jayyyy." You whined out, nigh on pouting as you stared at him. "Can you grab my pajamas... they're in the top drawer with my panties." You snickered at the choice of words, falling back on the bed with a little smile, grabbing a pillow to hold onto as you waited.
"Yeah yeah." He sighed, walking over to your dresser and opening the top drawer.
He found the pajamas you asked for and a clean pair of your underwear, and after grabbing them he walked back to the bed. "Here." He muttered, dropping the pajamas on the bed beside you.
"Need anything else?" He asked you, leaning against the wall and looking down at the very drunk you. *He can't help but smirk.*
You sat up and you grabbed the clothes, smiling lightly to yourself before turning your gaze up to Jason again. "Don't think so." You replied, holding the clothes in your lap. "Can you turn around though?" You asked, your words still somewhat slurred. "Gotta take this bra off." You grumbled in addition.
Jason nodded and rolled his eyes, turning around and facing the other way to give you privacy like you had asked.
"You know I've seen ya in a bikini before right? So it's not like this is really a big deal." He pointed out, his hands resting on his hips as he waited for you to change.
"Yeah but I haven't flashed you my tits." You replied, and once he was turned around you reached back, fumbling with the bra clasp, letting out a few curses before the clasp snapped open, pinching your skin for a moment which made you curse again before you tossed off your bra, which flew over Jason's head and into the wall, bouncing off and landing in your laundry basket. What a throw.
You tugged off your old underwear, then changed into the fresh ones and the pajamas he grabbed for you. It took a minute to figure out which way to pull on the top, but once you figured it out, you grinned in victory, and took another sip of water. "We gud-" you called out to him.
Jason couldn't help but laugh when he heard your cursing and swearing, followed by the sound of your bra slapping against the wall and into the laundry basket, obviously it was a good throw, even when drunk your aim was impeccable
Once you said that he could turn around again he turned back around, facing you. He smirked and stepped towards you, poking your forehead gently. "You are so drunk.” He teased you.
You looked up at him, though when he poked your forehead, you immediately fell back into your bed, erupting into a fit of giggles, despite the now dried tears and puffy eyes that decorated your face.
"And you're not, so unfair." You whined out, shifting around your bed, pulling one of the sheets up your body, resting back against the pillows. "Will you stay?" You asked, tilting your head up at him. "I'm not gonna feel good tomorrow…” you trailed off with a slight pout.
"Yeah, I know, I'm taking care of your drunk ass now." He teased, ruffling your hair gently with a smile, he rolled his eyes jokingly at your comment, walking over to the other side of the bed and dropping onto it with a heavy sigh.
"Yeah yeah, I'll stay.”
you smiled happily at his words, glancing to the side for a moment as your eyebrows furrowed while you thought. "I think I have some of your spare clothes stashed away." You muttered, looking up at him. "If you wanna change too, you're still in your club outfit.. super hot by the way." You rambled on, grinning up at him as you poked his chest.
He chuckled softly, leaning back against the headboard of the bed as you rambled. It was funny to see you like this, just rambling and barely making any sense.
"Thank you, thank you." He teased as you complimented his outfit. "And you also looked very pretty in that new dress. Not that you didn't in the old ones too, you always look pretty." He trailed off, pursing his lips for a moment as he stared down at you.
He then nodded. "You can get me some of my spare clothes, if you remember where you put them.” He spoke up.
You hummed and smiled at his words, before letting out a slight groan. "Fineee." You dragged out your words, clamoring out of bed, having to hold your arms out to balance yourself so you didn't fall, before shuffling over to your wardrobe, thinking back to where you put them before crouching down and opening up a drawer, pulling out a shirt and clean boxers.
The shirt was ginormous on you, pretty much like a dress too, which you'd know. You wore his shirts before, you was a little thief when it came to his clothes.
You then tossed them at his face before climbing back into bed, burying your face into the pillows with a soft groan.
"I sleep now." You stated, your voice muffled thanks to the pillows. However before you drifted off, you looked up at him, reaching out to rest your hand on his thigh.
"Thank you for taking care of me Jason." You breathed out, smiling up at him. "You've always taken care of me... one day I'll take care of you too." You muttered, your words getting slower, and slower, and quieter, before your eyes fluttered closed and you started snoring, your hand still on his thigh, lips parted slightly as you slept.
Jason smiled down at you, watching and listening as you got quieter, sleepier, before passing out. He gently reached out a hand, brushing his fingers against your cheek before he tucked your hair behind your ear, lifting your head slightly as he brushed your hair behind you, making it more comfortable for you.
“You take care of me more than you think, gorgeous.” He muttered to himself, gently grasping your hand and lifting it off his thigh, moving it onto the pillow beside your head.
He grabbed the blankets, and he pulled them up and over your body, tucking you in with a light smile that he hadn't even realized was splayed across his lips.
He then got up, making his way into your bathroom as he changed. Though as he looked into the mirror, he caught himself smiling, and his cheeks flushed slightly as he looked down at his scarred knuckles, which gripped the sink.
“The things you do to me…” He trailed off, shaking his head before he quickly splashed his face with water and dried it off, making his way back out to the bedroom, glancing over at you once more before snatching an extra blanket from your closet, making his way downstairs to sleep on the couch for the night.
He was in for a busy morning tomorrow, that was for sure… but he set his alarm early enough so he could get up and make you breakfast before you woke up, so you could just stay in bed and relax while you nursed a hangover.
He had a special egg cocktail for that.
For now, he got comfortable on the couch, staring up at your tall ceiling, the way fairy lights were strung up, making your place look so mystical. So- homey.
He fell asleep like that, thinking of you.
When was he not thinking of you.
Tag list:
All: @francesfarhadi @only-my-unexistent-fiances
Batfam:
JT: @ilaiise
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fandomnerd9602 · 15 hours ago
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Insatiable (🌶️)
Wolf!Natasha Romanoff x Reader
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Your wolf-human hybrid of a mate was insatiable. Natasha was in the middle of what hybrids would call a heat cycle, a period of immense energy and prowess. And you, being her best friend turned mate was the lucky recipient, the outlet Natasha needed.
Natasha was insatiable. Her desire had only gotten stronger. Usually with the amount of mating, the desire is supposed to decrease. Hers simply increased. The mere sight of you would send her into a frenzy.
At the Sanctuary, she’d pounce you in your office or pull you off into the support closet. It made getting work done a little difficult.
Not that you were complaining by any stretch of the imagination.
Things had gotten so heated, with your wolf growing more and more desperate that you finally decided that you and her needed a week off. You pulled out your vacation days and left Yelena and Kate in charge before taking Natasha back to your apartment.
The next few days were a happy blur of love, wine, intimacy, happy howls from her and a lot of tender care for one another. Natasha made sure that there was never an article of clothing in between you and her for all that time.
You find yourself collapsed in bed after one such round. Natasha giggles and wags her tail happily as she lays against your bare chest.
“I can’t get enough of you, my hunter” she whispers in your ear before gently nibbling on it.
“I live to please, my wolf” you reply.
You run your fingers up and down her bare back tenderly and slowly, letting her enjoy the simple act. A small little moan escapes her lips as you absentmindedly continue the motion.
Her tail swishes slowly with her eyes full of nothing but love and adoration for you.
After a few minutes you untangle yourself from your wolf girl lover and move to get up. Natasha quickly wraps her legs and arms around you, whining in your ear.
“No” she says, her ears drooping just a little, “stay, please.”
“Baby I’m just going to grab you a Gatorade” you chuckle.
“Oh” she blushes as you go over to your little mini fridge you had set up in your bedroom for this event “I forgot how thirsty i was”
You come back with a cold Gatorade for her and gently feed it to her, Natasha can’t help but smile at how amazing of a mate you were to her.
“Thank you, my hunter.” she smiles at you before immediately lunging at you.
You couldn’t help but laugh as Natasha pulled you right back into bed. Her tail was wagging furiously and happily as she straddled you and kissed you repeatedly.
“Natasha!” you couldn’t help but laugh.
“Oh thank you, my hunter” she breathes out as she looks down at you, her emerald eyes shining happily.
“For what, my wolf?” you look back at her curiously.
“This is the first heat cycle I could truly experience” she admits with a happy giggle, “I never felt safe or loved enough to allow myself to truly let go. So thank you”
You take her face in your hands, “thank you for trusting me enough for this.”
Your wolf girl lets out a little whine before pinning you and kissing you again. You’d do anything for Natasha, your wild wolf girl. She trusts you and you trust her. It’s the wonderful intimacy and privacy that your love has afforded each other.
Tags @lifespectator @supercorpdanbeau @scarletquake-n7 @redhoodte @ma1egamer @multi-fandom-enjoyer @moonlit-imagines @abimess @pinklawyerwinnerzonk @iiconicsfan25 @russianredassassin @revanshand @dudesweet17 @deafeningsharkslimeempath @natashandscarlettblr
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solar4seekstron · 1 day ago
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Traitor! Part One
TF1!Starscream x Cybertronian!GN!Reader One-shot
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He’s so twink coded in this gif-
Content: 18+, Smut
TW/Tags: Childhood friends, not first love shut up, smut, Starscream is an aft but a good husband and dad, hell yeah another sparkling cause they’re fun to write, angst, mentioned death, don’t worry more sparkling scenes will be added in the next chapter, awww starscreams and readers sparkling is so handsome, Sentinel being an aft as usual.
Notes: Reader is a jet so reader is a little slimmer. To make this story work a Bond with Conjunx don’t exist so the. Two can’t feel each other through the bond.
It was like any other day in the high guard. You were known as one of the highest leaders of the seekers Conjunx. While he was leading part of the High Guard. You were the one training the new recruits.
You and Starscream have known each other since you both were sparkling.
Though it was beyond being a first love thing. When you were accepted to join the high guard, and chosen to be the personal bodyguard of Prima.
On the first day since joining, you were so nervous. What was until you saw him? When entering the training room.
You never expected to see a certain red bot.
Training the new recruits. Well mostly embarrassing them. You stayed by the sidelines and watched. Hours went by, and the training session ended. And everyone started to head out.
You are following behind. Figuring it wasn’t worth trying to talk to your old neighbor.
But you soon felt your entire frame freeze when his face became loud.
“Not you, little jet. Don’t think I didn’t notice you.” He stood in the middle of the training room. Arms crossed as he stared at you with narrowed optics.
You slowly turned around to look at him. Everyone else has left. He made his way to you. You standing straight waiting for orders.
Being a Superior, you can tell he takes pride in that just by looking at him.
He looked you up and down. Then walked in a circle slowly as his arms moved to be down his sides. You just stood there, feeling yourself slowly get nervous. When he was finally in front of you again.
His dermas eventually have a smirk once he soon speaks.
”Well, I never thought I’d see my old neighbor after all these years. You sure grown into your….own.”
You noticed he checked out your frame once more. Which was a little more slimmer than his. You finally responded. ”Yeah, you’ve..changed as well.”
He let out a deep chuckle. He was a step closer with his usual smirk that he even had on his dermas as a sparkling.
He then places his cervos on his hips. Speaking once more. “Why don’t you and I meet up for lunch? Make up for lost time.” He leaned down a little. His dermas close to your audio sensors as he whispers.
“Make up for lost time.”
You just gave a small nod. His smirk grew wider. That was until Soundwave walked in. Starscream smirk away when told Zeta and Alpha Trio needed him.
He just walked past you as you stood there. For just a few minutes in the silent room.
A few months went by, and things did not get any easier because of the war. You and Starscream started to get more and more closer together.
You both getting known as very close friends throughout the tower.
The primes do not care much thanks to the war. Things remaind the same after a while, at least until he started courting you. In secret of course. He has an image to uphold.
You and Starscream's bond was something you never felt before.
The day that was your last day of the courtship, he was so sweet and loving. Careful as he held you against his chest. His kisses are sweet and sensual. The most loved you ever felt in your whole life.
You becoming a real pair since,
It continued like that for the next few years. And things are still as great as they are now.
————————————————————————————
You laid on your back against your shared berth with your Conjunx.
Soft sighs mixed with moans escaping past your dermas. Your helm leaned back, optics shut tight, a powerful need in your lower abdomen as your legs shake on the sides of Starscreams waist.
Your legs squeezing the best they can around Starscream as your arms are around his neck. Keeping him as close to you as possible.
His cervos gripped tightly on the berth sheets, his knees pressed against the berth. His hips slow with a sharp thrust. This spike nicely sqeezed by your valve begging for him to be filled with his seeds.
His forhelm against our shoulder. His grunts deep and quiet. Optics shut as well and he seems to be concentrating.
His frame pressed harshly against your own.
The room filled with both your soft grunts and moans. The sound of metal against metal slapped together being heard along with it. Your cervos stretching at his upper back. Begging for him. To go faster.
When you placed one of your cervos onto the back of his helm, you finally spoke.
”Please, pleaser faster Starscream!” You begged. His cervos move to hold your waist. Lifting his frame a bit higher so he’s sitting up. His hips soon moving at a faster paste. The metal clanking getting louder and louder.
You feel yourself moving back and forth against the berth.
Your cervos now holding the sheets of the berth, your moans growing louder and louder. He stared down at you. His optics are almost closed as he gets closer to his climax. Until.
With a final moan, you feel the warmth of his seed in your valve. Primus, there was a lot.
You continue to lean back as you try to gather yourself together.
Your legs shivering a little still while Starscream remained still. His hips thrust back and forth slowly while continuing to release more cum.
His load going on for another moment. Eventually, he was able to finish. He looked back down at you with a smirk. You smiling back as you stared up at him. He soon leans down.
Gently keeping himself above you as he stared at you with loving optics. His forhelm pressed against yours.
He finally speaking after having done a few rounds with you.
”It is done.” He finished with a kiss. You both connecting your dermas together with passion and love. Small smiles on both of your dermas while you both enjoyed this loving moment.
—————————————————————————————-
You are with sparkling. Starscream obviously. And he was excited.
You kept your pregnancy secret for a while before the sparkling inside you started to grow. The day before you can send a letter of absence knowing you’ll need the next months off to take care of your sparkling.
The news of the leaders of the Quintissons meeting was told by Sentinel to the Primes. The Primes announcing the mission for later that day. Sadly for you.
The mission is too risky and Starscream made that very clear when you and starscream spoke about it once at home.
”My word is final. You and our sparkling come first, do you hear me.”
You both stared at each other. Anger in our optics as you both stood in the living room.
Starscream was fuming. The both of you have been arguing for an hour once upon returning home. His cervo clenched while you remained unbothered.
Your arms crossed.
He then spoke once more after another moment. “You know what, I’m not going to argue with you while dealing with your mood swings right now!”
”Oh don’t you put this on my hormones! Our sparkling in me is fine. We will be fine. You saw me in action!” You bite back.
”This is different! These guys are more dangerous and this isn’t like every other training session back at the tower.” He stepped closer to you. You just stared up at him. He spoke once more in a softer tone.
His cervos move to gently hold your waist. His expression is softer as well.
”Just…for this mission. Stay home. I’ll make it up to you and our sparkling in the future. I promise…” He pressed his forehelm against yours. Small tears fall down your optics before looking down.
You just turned your helm away then and went to sit at the table. You responded with your voice quiet but loud enough for him to hear. “Just go. I’ll be here when you return…” Starscream just stared at you.
He wanted to say more. But held back, almost about to say the wrong thing.
Instead storming to the front door and slamming it shut behind him once out of the apartment. You put your helm in your cervos as you cried.
One of your cervos then moves to be placed over your stomach.
Feeling your sparkling move a little in there. Only time can tell now when he and the others will return upon their victory…
————————————————————————-
You felt yourself at peace. Taking a nice afternoon nap. Having a sparkling surely drains you when they’re not making you crave for energon. Your spark steady as your lower back feels comfortable.
Your sparkling peaceful inside you, your cervos ontop of your stomach during your slumber. That is until there was a knock at the door. Waking you up.
You tried to hold back from being fussy, you enjoy a good recharge.
As fast as you can, you make your way over to the front door. Peaking through the door hole. You were surprised to see sentinel on the other side. With a smile smile on his dermas.
Cautiously you opened the door, greeting Sentinel who had his cervos behind his back.
“Sentinel? I never expected you to be at my door. What can I do you for?” You greeted him with a smile. His smirk grew a little wider as he soon spoke.
“Well, it’s certainly a day of changes…I suppose.” You looked at him confused. He then sighed as he continued.
“I believe you’ll need to sit down for this.”
You then noticed a tall purple femme next to him. She just glanced down at you with a frown on her dermas.
You looked back at Sentinel before stepping back.
Walking to your table. Sitting down Sentinel and the purple femme follow from behind. The femme closing the door and locking it. Sentinel sitting next to you as he spoke. His voice was a bit softer and calmer.
One of his cervos then holding one of yours while he stared at you.
”I’m sorry to have to be the one to tell you this Y/N. But….the primes and High guard were not successful in the battle against the Quintissons. Everyone there became…lost.
The battle going on nods on. Until all Quintissons and bots died against each other. When I arrived. Nothing survived.”
You just stared at him with wide optics.
Tears form in your optics once more. Only able to do a single word with a hushed tone.
”No……..” You looked down. Sentinel then puts his other cervo on your shoulder as tears start to fall down your cheeks. “Please Sentinel! Tell me you’re just joking!” You begged. Looking at him with hopeful optics.
He just stared at you before looking away.
You continued to sit there unsure of how to feel. Sentinel would hold your chin with his cervo. But with the opposite cervo Starscream would use when he wanted you to look at him.
Sentinel speaking in a suspiciously casual tone.
“I’m certain Starscream would wish for you to continue moving on. So why not work for me hm? I promise with your help. We can continue the primes legacy.”
He said this all with a smile. You slowly opened your intake once more. Your voice is a little shaky. Placing your cervo over your stomach.
“What about….my sparkling?” He soon had a frown on his face plate. And seemed almost surprised. He seemed to also be struggling to find his words, then speaking with his calm tone once more.
”They can also be a part of making the city a better place with us.” You smile a little.
But what he said next made your blood run cold. “I don’t see self as someone to raise another’s sparkling. But if my chance includes that’s with a certain to have in my arms. Then I suppose it wouldn’t hurt.”
You stared at him with wide optics. He then snapping your digits.
Some of his personal guards came in and started to grab your stuff. You stood up trying to stop them. But Sentinel just grabbed your arm as he spoke. “Calm now my dear. Don’t wish to upset the little one.”
You looked back at him. His arm moving around your waist, while his other cervo held your own. He stared down at you with a devious smile.
”Come now, it’s time to return home.”
The guards pointed their guns at you. Showing you truly don’t have any choice in this. At all.
—————————————————————————
50 Cycles(years) have gone by….Starscream is still dead to now.
Your sparkling not long after joining Sentinel…..Prime and the new order. Your sparkling was born not long after. Luckily healthy and strong. A boy. He looks so much like Starscream.
With your optics and color scheme.
His helmet color is the same as Starscream. Luckily he was born to have your more calmer nature and his sires powerful combat skills.
50 Cycles since Sentinel made you his Conjunx. You are always able to convince him to not have a sparkle with you. Everything though, wasn’t the same since for you.
You didn’t have that much free will. And Sentinel always had to have you by his side. Unless it was to take care of your sparkling. Sentinel not showing much care for caring for your little one.
Even as he started to grow.
Sentinel never lets you go to the surface, even when he said the Quintissons left. You knew something was up, but he’d always threaten to do something to your sparkling if you try to defy him.
The only good thing out from all these years. Is watching your sparkling grow into a young adult. Always with a smile on your dermas.
Just like you.
The rare times you and your sparkling, Starlight. You tell him about his Sire Starscream. The stories of his victories and what his dreams were when he got to finally meet him when he was born.
As well as the battle with what his name will be.
Starlight growing to be a very handsome mech. Became one of the councilors, of course not without working for it.
One day, when Sentinel went out the search for the matrix, Starlight helped you out by distracting the guards. Having a higher power now. You descide to try to see what he’ll do.
And so, you flew after Sentinel and his guards.
Making sure Arachnid doesn’t notice you. You continued for a while. Making a stop when you saw a Quintissons ship. Stopping behind a mountain.
Peaking to the side watching him. That is..until someone appeared behind you. You turned around fast. But the bot behind you was faster.
Knocking you out. Everything soon turned black from there.
UGH I CANT WAIT FOR PART 2 THE ANGST FOR THE REUNION WILL BE DELICIOUS! I hope you guys enjoyed this as much as i did. I live writing for Starscream. He so silly. <3 part 2 might be a while but i promise it’ll be worth it!!!!
As always a repost is appreciated and ill see you guys in the next one!!!!
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ladyazulina · 13 hours ago
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Oh, goddess, this is so surprising and exciting! Thank you for the questions, @oneandocey 🩵
1. Night 🌙
2. I did! It's a black cockapoo dog called Pecky Jules Celian. It's in my closet unfortunately. I also have a owlbear named Ollie, she's recent though.
3. Writing? In general. In specific, I don't have favorites.
4. A dragon, definitely. But also a fox. And a string ray.
5. Things happen the way they're supposed to happen, don't stress too much in details and let them unfold.
6. My mom was for a long period of my life. Now is my partner. And the members of my coven, I love those girls way too much.
7. Blue. My real name is blue related. My fictional name is blue related. I was named due to the sky. I love the sky and the ocean and blue things. Blue is my peace.
8. A few days ago I went on a walk with my partner and we crossed paths with a kitten that was looking to be pet, so we pet them unless they got satisfied and continued their path (I have lots of cats at home, so that's usual).
9. Savoury, sweetly sweetly savoury 😋
10. I do believe in fate, red strings, but I believe it's more like the way of the universe.
Those were fun questions! Thank you 🩵
My turn! ✨
1. Moon or Sun?
2. What's the best thing that happened in your life?
3. What would you say to the mini you?
4. Which error would you avoid making again?
5. What was the last song you heard?
6. Is there a book you highly recommend?
7. If someone were to write about you, which were the qualities you would like to see highlighted? (And why?)
8. How would you title this era of your life?
9. What's something you believe everyone should do at least once?
10. Come hell or high water? 😉
Not many mutuals, but
@rexxles @cilly-the-writer @aziz-reads
(if someone else wants to answer my questions, please do so and tag me! I would love to read the answers 🩵)
Ten questions to ask a mutual
Instructions: prev asks ten questions and you answer them, then ask ten new ones and tag ten people to keep the chain going! I’ll go first
What is the weirdest thing you’ve eaten? (For me it’s the time I accidentally drank ants)
do you like purple or green more? (For me it’s a 50/50 I love them both)
what is your favorite two color color combo? (For me it’s purple and gold)
are you a cat or dog person? (Dogs 100%)
what is your favorite painting (Miranda by John William Waterhouse)
Mountains or beaches? (Mountains)
what’s your favorite dessert? (Lemon bars)
are you right or left handed? (Right but I used to be left handed)
salty or sweet? (Sweet)
summer or winter? (Winter)
I’m tagging 11 people but it’s whatever
@wra1th-k1ng
@bladevoyager
@tragedyanddust
@kindred-spirit-93
@urfavgreekmythnerd
@sickneurotic
@ry-diggity
@we-are-but-dead-stars
@thestarryfalls
@tamaruaart
@hermesmoly
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puckinghischier · 12 hours ago
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hi there, English is not my first language but I hope you will understand me.I have a request for a nico one shot about reader being in a friend group and slowly getting left out and eventually getting replaced. at first she didn't tell nico bc she didn't want hit to worry but neeks slowly noticing a slight change in a reader behavior and ask reader what's wrong. at first reader don't want to talk about it but at the end the whole bubble breaks and reader is sobbing and crying in Nico's arms. I hope you understand what I mean.Btw i LOVE all your fanfics, I hope it's not too long, thank you in advance ❤️❤️
he had noticed the slight shift in your routine. suddenly you were home more, a little clingier, asking if you could tag along with him and the guys more often. none of which mattered to him. if anything, nico loved the extra time spent with you. but you just seemed…sad.
he realized you hadn’t mentioned any plans with your friends recently, at first just chalking it up to him being on a stretch of home games and you wanting to spend your time with him before he had to leave again. but when he was on the road for the better part of a week, and you were home, in your pjs every night he called you, he knew something was up.
“schatz, can i ask you a question?” nico asked you after dinner one night, having sensed your overall demeanor was off all day.
“sure, you know you can always ask me stuff,” you turn to face him, leaning into the plush couch.
he thinks about how to word his question without sounding accusatory or like doesn’t enjoy the increased time together. “well…i’ve just noticed, you’ve been home a lot more lately and i haven’t heard you talk about the girls much recently. is there a reason? or are you just so obsessed with me you can’t bear to be apart,” he tries to add humor to offset the serious connotation of the sentence.
your body goes rigid, surprising him. you won’t meet his eyes, your hands coming together to pick at your fingernails. he watches the tears prick at your eyes, alarm bells going off in his head.
“i-, no, it’s nothing. just, no plans lately,” you say, voice strained, still not meeting his eyes.
he watches your lip tremble, knowing there’s more to the story, but not knowing if he should push the issue or accept the answer. he brings a hand over to rest on your knee, rubbing his thumb back and forth in a soothing motion.
“okay, i was just curious. didn’t know if something had happened or if you just wanted more nico time,” he chuckles, trying to relieve some of the sudden tension, no humor found in the situation.
his attempts were futile, because the second the words left his mouth you broke down, falling forward into his arms. he held you as you sobbed on his shoulder, slightly shocked at the sudden outburst of emotions.
“hey, shhh. it’s okay, sweet girl. i’ve got you, okay? i love you,” he tried to reassure you, lifting you to fully sit on his lap. he let you purge whatever emotions needed to be let out, not pulling back from the tight embrace until you did.
he’s met with your puffy, red eyes. he can feel the wet spot on his shoulder, but ignoring anything that isn’t you. brining his hands up, he wipes away the wetness on your face, squishing your face together while pulling it forward slightly, giving you a salty kiss.
“you know i love you, right?” he asks you as he pulls back from the kiss, earning a small nod of your head.
“i love you too,” you rasp out, bringing your own hands up to run down your face, wiping your own tears. “sorry about all that i just…been holding that in for awhile.”
nico removes some hair that was sticking to your cheek, shaking his head. “what’s going on, sweetheart?”
you take a deep breath, suddenly embarrassed. “it’s stupid, really. i mean, i’m a grown woman, i shouldn’t be upset over something so trivial,” you start, a humorless laugh escaping you.
“no, we’re not doing that. if it’s making you feel like this it’s important, it doesn’t matter what it is,” nico responds, slightly scolding you. “just tell me, maybe i can help.”
you smile at his words, heart swelling with love for the man in front of you. “well…basically i don’t think i have friends any more? i mean, i don’t know. for the past few weeks i quit getting invites. i thought at first maybe it was a lull in plans with the whole group, but when i saw them posting they were out for drinks one night and i checked the group chat to see that the group chat…didn’t exist anymore, i realized what was happening,” you start, shrugging.
“i messaged each of the girls individually, but no one responded. then it turned into taking digs at me in their captions on their pictures from dinners, nights out, events i was never invited to. no one ever told me why. or if i did something. one night we were at the bar grabbing dinner and drinks while you were on the road and the next, i was booted from the group chat and never to be spoken to again,” you tell him, knowing it’s all over the place and confusing, but it’s the truth. one night you were laughing and chatting with your best friends. the next, you were sitting alone at your apartment, watching them get together without you.
“it’s so middle school mean girl coded, but even at 24, it hurts. i know i don’t need those type of women in my life, but they’re my friends, neeks. at least…i thought they were,” you started tearing up again, feeling nico squeeze the hand he was holding.
nico’s heart breaks for you, knowing how much you loved your girls. he can’t imagine who, in their right mind, would just kick someone as caring, sweet, and loving as you out of their life for seemingly no reason.
“oh, my sweet girl,” he brings you back in for an embrace. “you’re too good for them, you know that?” he tells you, meaning every word.
he always had some issues with your friend group, but he never voiced his concerns, because he didn’t want to upset your or seem like he was being controlling. he could tell they were always just…off though. always wanting to tag along with you to hockey games, wanting a box when you told him you liked sitting down in the crowd better. they always changed plans you suggested, doing what they wanted instead of what you wanted. only ever wanting to attend get togethers at yours and his apartment if other guys from the team were gonna be there.
“it just sucks, neeks. i mean, how pathetic? i’m a grown woman who has no friends and her only social life revolves around her professional athlete boyfriend? i feel like such a leech,” you admit.
nico sees red, wanting to go and give all of those women a piece of his mind for how they’re making you feel.
“listen to me, don’t you ever say those words to me again, do you hear me?” he fusses at you, as serious as he’s ever been. “you’re the farthest thing from a leech. i want you around me all the time. i want you to tag along to every event, every team outing, every game. i enjoy spending my time with you, and getting to have you to myself every night.”
your heart swells once again, having been worried lately you were being too clingy.
“those women? they’re the pathetic ones. if they can’t see the absolute gem of a person they had around them, then they’re the ones who should be ashamed,” he looks you in the eyes as he speaks, willing your brain to soak in and listen to every word.
“i love you,” is all you can think to say in response, not knowing how else to express your feelings in the moment. you lean in to touch your lips to his, wishing to convey every ounce of thankfulness, love, and appreciation for him through the kiss.
he kiss you back softly, pulling back after a few moments.
“so, now that that’s settled, you wanna go out for drinks with me and the guys tomorrow? think a few of the other wives and girlfriends are coming, too. might be fun?” he asks you, already concocting a plan to find you a new, trustworthy group of girl friends.
“hmmmm, let me check my schedule, i might be booked and busy,” you joke, his words having made you feel light as a feather, any sadness working its way out of your body.
he rolls his eyes at you, letting out a playful growl as he attacks your neck with kisses, earning a laugh out of you.
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helenisaweirdo · 2 days ago
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hatred.
oliver aiku x fem!reader, accidental pregnancy, aiku is an asshole at the beginning, reader is of age, angst to comfort, happy ending
a/n: the reason that barou is so close to reader is because reader went to the same high school as oliver did (as the soccer team manager), and in the light novel it’s canon that oliver and barou played against each other in high school. so barou and reader has met before.
———
november 2, 2018
the two lines on the small screen was like being mocked by your best friend behind your back.
you had begged, prayed, even did rituals hoping that this wouldn’t be the case. but your gut instantly dropped when the two lines made it’s way to the small screen on the stick. nonononononononono—! why? why did this have to happen to you? you placed one hand on your lower abdomen, rubbing it in circles.
you shouldn’t abort your child. they didn’t do anything wrong, and you were the one who told him about wanting to be a mother one day, after all. all those times that you had treated the small kids at his soccer games so kindly right in front of him…it was only to be expected of that he was the one to ultimately get you pregnant.
oliver aiku.
captain of the U20 team, infamous womanizer, and annoying handsome asshole. and the man who just single-handedly ruined your life.
you’re slipping off the cool metal of the white gold band on your left ring finger, throwing it onto the floor and sitting down next to it, hugging your knees and letting out choked sobs. was the darry ring just another act of purposeful hurt, too? oliver wasn’t someone to settle down for a family life, let alone get married, so was the darry ring just to earn your trust?
and your mind flashes to the night you both broke up. that snowy night, where you had slapped him straight across the face, when you had screamed at him for cheating on you with another girl. one of his ex flings that told you that they hooked up again…while he was still dating you.
but now that you think about it again, why was he so quiet that night? wouldn’t he usually try to explain himself or try to make peace between the two of you?
you shake your head, picking up the ring from the floor and staring at it once again. adorned with diamonds and my love for you, he had told you when he first gave it to you. it was all a lie, it must have been. otherwise he would have never cheated on you.
———
november 6, 2018
“i was wondering if…um…”
“yes?”
you’re staring at the woman in front of you. she’s gorgeous, you think. oliver would probably leave you for her in a heartbeat. anri teieri are the boldly written words on her name tag. “if i do this job, of you know, being the manager of blue lock and all. would it be likely that i’ll be able to see oliver aiku?”
you had deleted his contact, blocked his email, and blocked all of his social media accounts when you both broke up. you couldn’t remember any of his information, either. and oliver being oliver, he wasn’t an easy person to reach. you eventually came to the conclusion to attend online classes for your college and work at blue lock.
“well, yes, it’s practically a guarantee. he’s the captain of the U20 team, after all. but, Miss…” anri looks down at your stomach, eyebrows knitted together. “are you sure you’re in any condition to work? especially cleaning up after and cooking for teenage boys? i don’t want you to injure yourself, especially with a baby. you’re—how many months in?”
“im at 1 month. 6 weeks, to be exact. and its babies. im having twins.” you muttered. “its alright, it can help me practice cooking and cleaning for the kids. you know how children are—they’re always either making messes or hungry.” you place a hand on your abdomen. “im sure it will be alright. but thank you for your concern, anri.”
“you’re 19, 3 years younger than me…oh, you poor girl. i’ll just need you to sign some papers first and make a few phone calls with mr ego, and we’ll be set.” anri shakes your hand firmly before a soft smile graces her lips. “you’ll be an excellent mother. don’t be too hard on yourself.”
“thank you.” you smile back meekly, preparing yourself for the days of hell of taking care of sweaty teenage boys. but hey, considering how you used to be the manager of your high school boys soccer team (with oliver on it, no less), you’re probably already used to it.
———
february 26 2019
“you need me to take over cleaning for you?”
barou sits down next to you, sliding a bowl of rice of some dishes (that are beneficial for pregnant women, you notice) in front of you. “if you don’t mind.” you reply, picking up a pair of chopsticks and beginning to devour the food.
“well, i was planning on doing so anyway. it’s not good for a pregnant woman to do any work, even if you’re only on your fourth month.” barou begins to eat his own portion of rice. “i already finished all of my training for the U20 match tomorrow anyways.”
“thanks, barou.”
after a fair amount of time, you’ve only told the people at blue lock who you knew wouldn’t freak out about you pregnancy: which wasn’t much. isagi, yukimiya, kunigami, barou, kurona, hiori, and nanase. you would only tell everyone else when your stomach grew a considerable amount, enough to single-handedly show that you were pregnant.
“you must be training hard to surpass isagi. that’s amazing, barou.” you begin, taking a glance at how barou wolfs down his food. he nods from under the bowl. you notice how he’s also less…irritated with you. at least, he always tries to be. even if you make a stupid mistake or dirties certain things that were once clean, barou takes one look at your abdomen before just cleaning it again. a classic gentleman—why the hell didn’t he have a girlfriend yet?
you couldn’t sleep that night. you moved the mattress up, you moved the mattress down, you pulled the blankets up, you pulled the blankets down. you opened the girls, you closed the lights. and yet you still couldn’t sleep.
finally, you began rubbing your stomach in circles. “my sweeties, tomorrow you’ll finally be able to hear your dad’s voice for the first time. and if all goes well, you’ll both be able to meet him when you’re both due in august.”
after a few more kicks and hushed promises, you could finally dear your eyelids growing heavy, and you began a dreamless rest.
———
february 27 (the day of the U20 match)
you sat on the bench of the changing room for the U20 team. blue lock had already won, and for privacy, the U20 team left the changing room, leaving only you and oliver inside after some negotiations. oliver’s eyes are fixated on you, and they can’t seem to pull away.
“oliver,” you began, sighing. “im going to make this quick because i know that you’re fangirls are too impatient to wait for you for so long. im pregnant,” you ignored the way that his jaw went slack. “your kids, twins, a boy and a girl. they’re both due in august. do you want both, should i have both, should we each raise one—“
“marry me.”
now it was your turn for your jaw to go slack.
“what—? but you fucking cheated on me!”
oliver’s lips pressed into a thin line. “i’ve cheated on tens of women before, but i’ve never once cheated on you. you’re the only one that i’ll never cheat on. akamei was just a liar who wanted me to take her back, but lying to the love of my life wasn’t the best way to go about it.
“i don’t blame you if you still don’t trust me, but at least let me marry you and let me be a good father to our kids. they deserve it, and you deserve it too for staying strong for months of being a single pregnant mom.”
tears began to pool at your eyes, and your chest felt tight. “fuck, since when were you so mature, oliver?” you threw yourself into his arms, soft sniffles escaping you and onto his shoulders.
“it’s not that im mature, i just really love you.”
———
january 3, 2025
“mama, did you and daddy have a fairytale love story too?”
your daughter olivia’s words make you freeze in your steps. after once against reading her a classic lover story (Cinderella) as a nighttime story, your daughter has been obsessed with them…not a good thing.
“of course they did! just look at them now!” your son oscar from right next to her replied. you gulped before nodding shakily.
“yep…yep! goodnight, guys! i love you both!” you scurried out of the room and into your shared room with oliver, where he laid relaxed on the bed.
“you seem tense.”
“yeah, olivia just fucking asked if we had a fairytale love story, no shit.”
“we did!”
“fuck you.”
———
FIN.
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requiemforthepoets · 2 days ago
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first encounter ⟢ CL16
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⟢ part two of you’re the closest to heaven that i’ll ever be
𖤓 series masterlist ⟢ playlist ⟢ part three ☽
PAIRINGS: charles leclerc x celestial!reader
SUMMARY: all thanks to leo, charles finally got the chance to meet you—the celestial being who has consumed his every waking thoughts, and managed to find out new things.
REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.
WARNINGS: bible angel names references, some people may find this fic offensive, concept of divine beings and heaven & life and death, no use of y/n, angels and devils, mentions of papa leclerc (beginning is set in 2017) and jules bianchi, fluff, falling (literally & figuratively) in love, named side characters, angst but with a happy ending, purely written fic, a little bit of world building (concepts), mentions of death, bad/evil people, cursing, not proofread, and typos.
WORD COUNT: 5k
AUTHOR’S NOTE: this fic may not be some people’s cup of tea, if you don’t like it, don’t read it. sorry it took me a LONG time to post the part 2 of this series, i already have this on my drafts but never got the time to check on it bc i’ve been working on my other series (fa14 series), but finally, here it is! the part 3 may take a long time to be posted again 🥲 but you don’t have to worry bc i intend on finishing this series. taglist is open for this series, so just comment or message me if you want to be tagged. your comment/reblog is highly appreciated, and i hope you’ll enjoy this second part of the series!
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It was a warm late afternoon in Monaco, and Charles had finally pulled himself out of his apartment, hoping that some fresh air and Leo’s cheerful company might turn off the constant thoughts running through his mind. Since that night in Singapore, you had been all Charles could think about—the image of you standing before him, looking at him as though you knew the secrets he hadn’t even dared to ask himself. Charles had barely gotten a word in before you disappeared, leaving him with nothing but more questions.
The park was mostly empty, allowing him and Leo to stroll without the usual flood of cameras or people hoping to get a quick word with him. Charles enjoyed these rare quiet moments, watching Leo run through the grass, capturing photos of him mid-leap, his ears flapping, and his tail wagging in pure delight. For a while, it was peaceful—that is until Leo began barking persistently, his gaze fixed on something in the distance.
“Leo, calme-toi.” Charles called, trying to soothe his normally docile dachshund.
Leo rarely barked at nothing, and Charles couldn’t see what had him all stirred up. As he looked past Leo, his heart skipped. There you were, standing at the edge of the park, just as he had remembered you, dressed in black, untouched by the brightness of the world around you, as if you had stepped from a different realm entirely. Slowly, Charles walked over, kneeling beside Leo, who was still barking.
“Can you see her too, buddy?” Charles asked softly, but Leo only turned his head back towards you.
His barks began shifting into a delighted whine, tail wagging as though greeting an old friend. To Charles’ amazement, Leo took off towards you, bounding across the grass with uncharacteristic excitement. You bent down on one knee as Leo reached you, his small body pressing happily against your touch. Charles just stood there and watched, captivated by the whole sight, how your hand moved over Leo’s fur, and how the dog responded, oblivious to the fact that what he felt was something beyond the ordinary. You then looked up at Charles and smiled, a gentle, knowing expression on your face.
“Hello, little one,” you murmured to Leo, reaching out to stroke him. Your gaze followed Leo’s figure as he trotted back toward Charles. “He’s a beautiful soul. It’s clear how well you take good care of him, he is very happy with this life.”
Charles swallowed, taken aback by the warmth of your words. He felt a huge wave of relief washing over him, and somehow, you were not a figment of his imagination. You were in front of him, speaking to him, your voice soft but firm, grounding him in the reality of your presence.
Noticing a bench nearby, you gestured, “shall we sit?” Charles nodded.
He followed you as you walked, though he kept glancing around as if worried that someone might catch him talking to thin air. The two of you sat side by side, your gaze focused on Leo as he scampered around, while Charles couldn’t seem to look anywhere but at you. The silence between you felt almost sacred, deafening, thick with all the unspoken questions he longed to ask.
“I know you have many questions,” finally, you broke the silence. Your voice was gentle. “Especially as to why you can see me, when others could not.”
Charles let out a shaky breath, nodding. “I—I don’t understand. I’ve seen you before, but you keep on disappearing, and no one else…they never see you.” his voice was a soft murmur, filled with confusion and wonder.
“Our kind, like myself, we’re not meant to be seen by human eyes. We’re here to watch and guide, but only from afar. Most humans only sense us as a passing feeling, a presence.” you softly said, as you studied him with a faint smile. “But in your case, you see me. Truly see me.”
“Why, though? Why am I able to see you?” Charles’ brows furrowed, his gaze intent on yours.
You turned to look at Leo, who was now sitting a short distance away, watching the two of you with a curious tilt of his head, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Leo.
“It’s rare, Charles. But sometimes, there is a connection between our kind to your kind that goes beyond the veil. I’ve thought about it myself, and though I don’t have all the answers, it’s clear that there’s a reason you and I keep crossing paths.”
Charles’ heart raced. The way you spoke, as though fate had woven an invisible thread between you had left him reeling. He glanced around the park, reminded of how strange this conversation must look to anyone passing by, but he did not care at all. The need to understand, to know you, outweighed any risk of prying eyes.
“Maybe…maybe we should go somewhere less public?” Charles suggested, his voice low.
He did not want this moment to end, he couldn’t let you disappear on him again before he had the chance to understand this kind of connection. You looked at him for a long contemplative moment, then nodded.
“All right, lead the way.”
Charles led you quietly through the streets of Monaco and up to his apartment. He hadn’t said much on the way, clearly lost in thought, yet there was an unspoken understanding between the two of you. When you entered his apartment, you immediately noticed how it held an essence of him. Warm, understated, and filled with memories. The walls were decorated with framed photographs spanning his life from childhood karting days to podium celebrations in F1. Trophies were all lined up on the shelf, and each piece seemed to carry a story of its own.
You were drawn to the photos, especially those capturing his relationships, the warm smiles he shared with his family, playful moments with his friends, and candid shots of him and his brothers. Then your gaze settled on one particular photograph, and a bittersweet feeling bloomed within you. It was a younger version of Charles, perhaps in his teens, standing alongside a man whose face you recognize. Jules Bianchi.
Charles noticed the direction of your attention as he finished filling up Leo’s dog bowl, and he stepped over to join you, his expression softening as he saw the photograph. Jules had been so much more than just a mentor to him. The man in that photo had shaped parts of his soul and his dreams. You could feel the weight of Charles’ emotions lingering in the air, a tender ache mixed with recognition.
“You knew him?” Charles’ voice was quiet as he stood beside you.
You nodded softly, your own voice taking on a gentle tone. “I was there in his final moments. I was the one who guided him when he was ready to go, helping him crossover.”
Charles’ face was a mix of expression, caught between surprise and disbelief. For a second, he seemed unable to respond, the information settling slowly. You watched him intently as he took a deep breath, grounding himself.
“You…you spoke to him?” he managed, his voice strained with a mix of sorrow and longing.
“Yes,” you said, your voice steady but tender. “I spoke with his soul as he lingered between here and the afterlife. It was…peaceful. He was calm when I arrived, almost as if he knew he was not going to stay.”
You paused, “I then asked him about his life, what his favorite thing about life was.”
”He told me that his family meant everything to him. He then mentioned being a godfather, and his dreams for his protégé, a young man named Charles.” you added.
“He said that?” he whispered, breath hitched as he instinctively reached up to touch the frame, his fingers resting just over the image of Jules’ face.
“He spoke of you with such pride, with hope that you would go on to achieve everything he had dreamed for you. Jules saw himself in you, Charles. His last thoughts were with his family and you.” you looked at him softly. A quiet rage simmered in Charles’ eyes as he turned to look at you, his voice tinged with frustration.
“But why? Why couldn’t you let his family speak to him, too? They waited for so long, hoping he’d wake up, to say goodbye properly.” the raw pain and anger in his voice were unmistakable.
Charles had not meant to question your intentions, but the loss of Jules had carved a wound that had never fully healed, and in his grief, he momentarily forgot you were not human. You looked at him with a soft, understanding smile, letting the weight of his sorrow wash over you. You had witnessed this kind of reaction before, how those who are grief-stricken often felt deprived of closure.
“I understand, Charles. If I could have done differently, I would have,” you replied, your voice gentle but firm. “But it wasn’t his body I spoke to, it was his soul. Jules was already watching from the other side, beyond the reach of the physical world. In those moments, he wasn’t in his body anymore, he was seeing all of you from a place where time no longer held sway.”
Charles looked down, processing your words, the anger fading slowly as he tried to keep his emotions steady. He tried to reconcile his emotions with the reality of what you had just shared. He ran a hand through his hair, gaze fixed on the floor as he took in a shaky breath.
“So he…he was watching us all along?” he whispered.
“Yes,” you assured him. “He was with you. Every tear, every moment spent beside his hospital bed, he saw it all, even if he himself couldn’t respond in a way you wished for it to be.”
“Souls don’t always leave the way we want them to. They transition gently, often lingering just to be close to the people they love.” you added. Charles’ shoulder slumped slightly, and he let out a shaky sigh, nodding as if finally accepting what had once seemed unimaginable.
“It…it makes sense,” he murmured. “Jules was always calm, even in the most difficult moments. Maybe he knew it would be easier this way.”
There was a peaceful silence that settled between the both of you, the only sound being Leo’s soft footsteps as he padded over to sit by Charles’ feet. Charles looked at you again, the sorrow in his eyes tinted by a glimmer of gratitude.
“Thank you,” he said quietly, a sincerity in his words that touched you deeply. “For…for being there with him, and for telling me.”
You gave him a reassuring nod, feeling the depth of his appreciation. “He is proud of you, Charles. More than you know. You are honoring his legacy every time you step onto the track.”
Charles closed his eyes briefly, absorbing your words, a new sense of peace settling over him. He knew that the ache would remain, but perhaps now, with you there to share this part of Jules’ journey, it would be a little easier to carry.
Eventually, you found yourself seated on the barstool, observing how Charles moved around the kitchen, gathering ingredients as he prepared a dish called pasta, and noting the way he moved with a quiet confidence. He seemed at ease, but you could tell by the occasional glance he cast your way that he was still processing everything. The strange connection he had with you, a Celestial he could see but others could not. As he stirred the sauce on the stove, he broke the silence, glancing over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow.
“So…what exactly are you?” Charles asked, attempting to sound casual, though his curiosity was clear. “Are you like an angel of death or something?” his brows furrowed slightly as he added.
“No, Charles. I’m not here to take you away,” you assured him, tone gentle, and couldn’t help but smile at his suspicion. “Think of me as a guide and a protector. My duty is to help souls cross the afterlife, to make sure that they are not alone and lonely when they cross the other side.”
“So, you’re…you’re not here for me?” he asked, his voice tentative. You could see the worry in his eyes, as if he had been half afraid that he might be speaking with the very spirit that would one day guide him out of this life.
“Not at all,” you replied. “I’m here because, somehow, we have this connection. I was there in the hospital room, with your father, when you saw me for the first time. It was a natural part of my duty, I was waiting to guide him. Just as I was there for Jules.”
“So you only appear when…someone’s close to death?” Charles’ gaze dropped to the countertop, and he nodded slowly, as if piercing it all together.
“Typically, yes,” you replied. “Humans are not meant to see me. They may sense it, a presence, calmness, or even a cool warmth when I’m near, but that’s usually all. So, I could not quite understand why you could see me. It isn’t common.”
“But I can see you.” he said, almost to himself, as if still trying to grasp this phenomenon.
“Exactly.” you looked at him thoughtfully. “Over time, as I have watched over you, you’ve somehow become aware of me. It’s as if the bond between us allowed you to see me when others can’t.”
You let the words hang, hoping it answered the mystery that had puzzled him for so long. Charles turned back to the stove, his movements slower, as if he were allowing himself time to absorb what you had just said. After a moment, he turned to look at you again.
“Back in Singapore…I kept thinking of you, wondering if you were real or just in my head.” he hesitated, then continued. “And you appeared, it was like you sensed me or something.”
“That’s precisely what happened,” a gentle smile crossed your face as you saw the gears turning inside his head. “I could feel your thoughts, your longing to see me, and so I came to you. Your thoughts, they called to me.”
“But why do you always disappear?” he asked, his tone a mix of curiosity and exasperation. “Every time I think I already have you here, you’re gone the second I look away.”
“It’s not by choice, Charles.” you met his gaze, understanding his frustration. “My presence here beside you is not permanent. I have duties beyond just watching over you, it is my duty to guide other people as well. My duty is to help those souls cross peacefully into the afterlife, which means I’m often called away. That’s why I can’t always be here, even if you want me to be.”
“I understand,” he said softly as he looked down, absorbing your words. “It’s…strange, but it does make sense.”
A comfortable silence fell between you and Charles as he took out a plate and transferred the pasta dish on it. You could still feel the wheels turning in his mind as he processed everything. After a moment, you spoke again.
“If you want me to be with you, well, there is a way.” you said.
He looked up at you, now intrigued. “A way?”
You nodded. “Yes. If you light a match or a lighter and call for me, then blow it out, I’ll hear it, and I’ll come to you.”
“Why a match?” Charles’ brows furrowed as he considered it.
“Fire.” you explained. “It is a symbol of transition. It’s an ancient element that is used to connect realms, to call forth spirits, and to bridge the distance between worlds. When you light a match or a lighter, you are creating a momentary flame that connects you to my realm, and when you blow the fire out, it becomes a message—a summons. I’ll hear it, wherever I am.”
“So, I just…call out to you, light a flame, and you’ll come?” Charles’ lips curved into a small smile.
“Yes.” you returned his smile, feeling the warmth in his gaze. “As long as you need me, Charles. Wherever you are, I’ll always find a way to be there.”
Charles looked at you with a mix of gratitude and something deeper, a newfound comfort that seemed to settle over him. In that quiet moment, Charles reached for his fork, but his gaze lingered on you, a newfound clarity softening his features.
“Thank you.” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper.
He then placed a plate of pasta right in front of you, and you tilted your head, looking at the dish with sheer curiosity and slight confusion. Charles noticed your expression, stopping mid-motion as he raised his own fork.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice gentle but genuinely concerned.
“I don’t…eat,” you explained softly, gaze flickering between him and the plate, offering him a small, apologetic smile. “Celestials don’t have the need for food, so I don’t know what it’s like to taste something, let alone pasta.” you could see a flicker of surprise and something that almost looked like offense pass over his face.
“What? You’ve never tasted pasta?” he asked, shocked, as he looked down at his beloved dish, looking genuinely horrified. “Pasta is…it’s comforting, it’s warmth and tradition. It’s something everyone has to try.”
“Okay, imagine this—it’s soft and a little chewy, warm and…kind of like a hug, but for your mouth.” he added, grinning at you with his eyes lighting up. “And with this tomato sauce, its got this balance of sweet and tangy, a bit salty too, it just…makes everything feel better.” his expression softened.
You watched Charles as he spoke, entranced and touched by his earnest attempt to describe something so familiar to him yet so foreign to you. Spending this time with him, watching his animated expression, hearing his heartfelt explanations, you begin to understand why his father and Jules had spoken of him so warmly in their final moments. Charles was not only passionate, but genuinely kind and unpretentiously funny. There was a gentleness to him that touched your heart, even if it couldn’t beat the way a human’s did.
Hours slipped by so fast, and you both found yourselves seated on his living room couch, talking quietly, the evening light fading around you. Charles asked questions after questions, fascinated by your world and by what you do. You answered each one as best as you could, and with each answer, his awe seemed to deepen. You shared stories of guiding other souls, moments of peace and love you had witnessed. He listened, hanging onto each word, and you could see a newfound calmness in his eyes.
While you were in the middle of telling him a story about guiding an elderly woman who had waited until all her children were by her side before letting go, you heard a soft sound. Glancing to your right, you found Charles with his head tipped back against the couch cushion, his breathing steady and calm. He had drifted off, exhaustion settling over him like a soft blanket. For a moment, you just watched him, studying his peaceful face. Charles’ long lashes rested against his cheeks, and a gentle warmth seemed to radiate from him, a stark contrast to the chill you carried with you.
A quiet yearning tugged at you as you lifted a hand, your fingers hovering near his face. You wanted, just once, to feel the warmth of human skin, to know what it was like to truly touch, but you know better. If you let your fingers graze him, he would only feel a cold wisp of air, a reminder that you didn’t belong to this world in the same way as Charles did. So, reluctantly, you lowered your hand and simply looked at him, memorizing the moment.
You had spent nearly the entire day with Charles, and though part of you longed to stay, you knew it was time to leave. Quietly, you stood up from the couch and made your way to where Leo was resting nearby. You knelt down beside the little dachshund, who lifted his head to watch you with those soulful eyes, tail giving a soft wag, and you reached out, your fingers ghosting over his fur.
“Leo, I know that your past life was not kind to you and had been cut short, but you’re safe now. In this life, you’re well taken care of and so loved.” you spoke softly, as Leo seemed to tilt his head, like he understood every word you say. “Charles is a good man, he will love and take care of you, always.”
As you straightened up, Leo continued to watch you, his eyes filled with a sense of understanding. You turned to take one last look at Charles, still asleep on the couch, chest rising and falling in steady rhythm. A soft smile crept over your face as you watched him, there was a wave of warmth washing over you, even without a heartbeat to drive it.
With a final, quiet glance at Leo, who looked back at you with trusting eyes, you let yourself disappear, and slipped back into the unseen world that had always separated you from the people you guided. Yet, for a short moment, you knew you had left a part of yourself with Charles and Leo in that Monaco apartment.
Charles woke up with a dull ache running through his neck, reminding him of the night he had spent sleeping on the couch. He rubbed the sore spot, groaning slightly as he tried to stretch out the stiffness. For a moment, he just sat there, gathering his thoughts, until the memories of last night’s memory surfaced. The conversation, quiet moments, and then the emptiness when he realized you had left. He sat back on the couch, staring at the ceiling as a sense of longing settled over him, a quiet ache that wasn’t so easily stretched away.
A small bark drew his attention to Leo, who was sitting nearby, watching him with an endearing tilt of his head, and noticing Charles’ contemplative state. He smiled and reached out, calling Leo over.
“What do you think, Leo? It was one strange night, huh?” Leo padded over gently, wagging his tail as Charles scooped him up, holding him close.
For a few minutes, Charles simply enjoyed and basked in the warmth of Leo in his arms, the familiar comfort that Leo offered in the midst of all the strange, unexplainable things that he was feeling. Last night had been a fever dream for him, but he knew that it was real, that it happened.
“Do you think it’s strange? Wanting to see her again?” he added. Leo just responded with a quiet, comforting look and nestled close to Charles.
After a while, curiosity began to gnaw at him. Charles could not shake the desire to know more about you, as to why he felt this pull, this connection that seemed impossible and yet so real. He padded into his bedroom, grabbed his laptop and settled in, typing Celestial Angels into the search bar. Countless articles, myths, and even fiction flooded his screen. Charles sifted through several pages, skipping over anything that seemed overly romanticized or far-fetched, until one article caught his eye.
The article spoke of Celestial Angels who formed deep bonds with their humans, describing how they acted as protectors, watchers, and guides. It mentioned the rare connection that could occur, a phenomenon where an angel might become so deeply intertwined with a human soul that they developed a sense of longing or even love, something that was both a blessing and a curse for the Celestial. As he read further, Charles could not help but wonder if this was what he had experienced, if this was the reason he kept seeing you, why he felt such a pull toward you.
Charles then stumbled upon a book: The Celestials by an author named Celestine Williams. The cover featured a faint, ethereal image of a figure wrapped in light, the silhouette barely discernible, much like he imagined you, and the description noted that it explored the stories and folklore surrounding Celestials and their interactions with humans, a deep dive book. The reviews were glowing, a few feedbacks talking about how the book shed light on the mysteries of these beings and the unique connections they could form. Without a second thought, Charles clicked buy, hoping the book would give him a glimpse into your world, something that might help him understand you much better.
Charles then returned his attention back to the article. But his focus kept drifting, thoughts of you had surfaced in his mind unbidden, wondering where you were right now, what you might be doing, if you were watching over someone else or wandering through some hidden place unknown to humans. The pull to see you, to call you, was growing stronger by the second, becoming a quiet ache that settled deep in his chest.
He set the laptop aside, exhaling as he mulled over the idea. Charles remembered what you had told him when he needed you—that he could call you by lighting a match or a lighter, a summon that would draw you to him. He doesn't know if it would even work, or if you would even come, but the need to see you was already overriding any doubts that he has. So he then grabbed a small lighter that he kept somewhere hidden in his kitchen and went to his living room, sitting down on the couch with Leo curled up beside him.
Charles knew it was kind of absurd, like it was something straight out of a fairy tale of a late-night ghost story, but last night, you had told him that if he wanted to see you, all he had to do was light a flame and call out to you. A part of him, the rational side, wanted to shrug it off as nonsense. But then the other part of him had witnessed things that were impossible and felt that strange connection to you, urging him to at least give it a try.
“Am I really fucking doing this?” he murmured, looking down at Leo for approval. But Leo just looked at him, with a face that said ‘what’s the harm in trying?’ “Ah, fuck it.”
Finally, with a deep breath, he flicked the lighter on, watching the tiny flame flame dance as he whispered out to you, a barely audible plea for you to return. The flame flickered as he called out to you, then he blew it out gently, his eyes lingering on the wisp of smoke that rose and faded. His heart was pounding, unsure if should expect an immediate response or if he had simply made a wish to the empty air.
A hush settled over the quiet living room, and for a moment, nothing really happened. Charles felt a pang of disappointment, even a touch of embarrassment at how eager he was and had hoped. He let out a disheartening chuckle, letting out a quiet sight right after, and lowering the lighter, thinking that maybe he had been mistaken or that the depth of the bond he felt was just his pure imagination.
Just as he stood up, about to return the lighter back into the kitchen, Charles felt a shift in the air, a delicate, almost undetectable shimmer, like a faint breeze brushing across his skin. He looked up, and there you were, standing in the soft morning light, an almost imperceptible glow framing your presence. The world seemed to pause, the weight of the day fading away as he took in the sight of you. You stood there, a soft, otherworldly light around you, the faintest hint of warmth in your eyes as you looked at him. Charles felt his breath hitching, he had not realized how much he missed seeing you until now. He began feeling a strange mix of relief and happiness.
“You called for me?” you asked softly, your voice like a distant melody.
Charles nodded, suddenly feeling a little bit embarrassed, but unable to look away at you. “I…I did, I hope it’s okay. I just…” he paused, fumbling over his words. “I wanted to see if it works, and to see you again. I don’t know why, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
“You’re allowed to call for me, Charles. That’s why I told you how you can reach for me.” you smiled gently, a warmth in your expression that seemed to reach him despite your distance.
“I’ve been reading about Celestial Angels, trying to understand.” he let out a soft chuckle, placing his hands inside of his pockets, feeling uncharacteristically vulnerable. “I came across all these stories about angels who…form connections with their humans.” Charles looked down, collecting his thoughts.
“I guess I just wanted to understand what we have. Why do you keep on appearing, and why does it feel like I know you, even though I don’t really.” he added.
“The connection between an angel and their human isn’t something that happens every day. It’s rare, something beyond explanation.” your expression softened, and took a slow step forward, closing the gap between you. “We’re not supposed to form attachments, but sometimes, it’s as if the universe allows it, just for a moment.”
“So…it’s real, then? I’m not imagining it at all?” his gaze never leaving you, but filled with curiosity.
“No, Charles,” you shook your head. “You’re not imagining it. It’s real. You were always different, even from the first time I saw you.”
“I don’t know what this all means, but I want to understand.” he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, voice quiet, and a raw honesty was lacing his tone as he held your gaze.
“Sometimes, understanding isn’t possible, not in a way humans desire. Some things simply are.” you said quietly.
You then placed a hand near his, close enough that Charles could almost feel your presence, but not quite touching. The silence stretched, rich and weighty, filled with words left unsaid. Finally, he managed a faint smile.
“Thank you. For you know, for coming.” Charles said softly.
“For you, I always will.” you replied, smiling at him.
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taglist : @charlesgirl16 , @chloes-book-corner , @wierdflowerpower
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blackknight-kai · 2 days ago
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Hiiiii I love your Black Myth HCs! Finally worked up the courage to put an ask in ahahaha.
If you’re inclined, would love your take on a reader who gets very turned on watching DO/SW fight— maybe also wants to learn how to fight too? Cue awkward/flirty training sessions where DO/SW starts to realize what’s happening etc etc.
Even if this isn’t up your alley just wanna thank you for providing us with so much content!!
First ask in a while I know….thank you for your ask and I’m sorry it’s taken so long! (Side note for future asks - I’m open for MKR Wukong :) and I will be trying to get these asks done between work and my hand issues so look forward for more! Use my tag #bk kai writes to find my other Headcanons!!
Yes! I love this idea and honestly think about it a lot myself because my OC (generally) is one that can/wants to learn to fight depending on the AU.
Also, I legit fell in love with Wukong fighting Erlang in that opening scene AND I have a favorite move DO does through the game it’s…yeah it’s a thing okay? 🤣
Anyway!
As far as reader goes! (This is just one path my brain takes and I hope it came out okay!)
Getting hot under the collar watching him fight? Yeah. That’s happening. There’s something graceful yet powerful about him fighting. Every step is calculated from years of practice and every move made is times just perfectly. Sometimes there’s a misstep but generally? He’s so fluid with his movements it’s hard NOT to stare. He’s earned his confidence that’s for sure.
Watching the way he twirls his staff or even just simply walking backwards and while he may look almost relaxed you know he’s ready for anything his enemy throws at him. That self assurance is intoxicating.
And depending on what armor he’s wearing? Even better. Because honestly, watching his muscles at work is…well your eyes have a hard time looking anywhere else. He’s gorgeous. His grunts and noises of effort also start to get to you, making your cheeks warm as your brain images those sounds during…other instances.
Fairly quickly you realize you have a huge problem. You’re getting a little TOO warm under your clothes as he fights. Feeling squirmy and hot as he does that one move that always sends a tingle down your spine. You do your best of course to play it off later and calm yourself down but…at night when you’re resting? The striking image of him in battle plays in your mind and you can only hope he doesn’t notice. (Or notice when you linger while bathing to…..have some you time.)
Unfortunately…He can always feel you watching. In the beginning he wondered what you were thinking about, did he scare you? Did you think he over did it? Were you curious about how to fight? But after catching your awed stare out of the corner of his eye he realized you LIKE the show he puts on to some degree. And so that’s what he does. He likes having an audience and especially your attention. So while he may not know the full extent of your thoughts and feelings as you watch him fight (at first), he enjoys the feeling of your eyes on him. Gets him fired up even more than usual. Also….dont be surprised if he purposely gets into fights just to have your attention on him again.
The day you ask him to SHOW you how to fight? That’s one of the best days of his life. Not only does he get to actually teach you - which he honestly enjoys doing in general - he gets to be close to you. And you’ll know how to protect yourself if need be. Even better if you can fight along side him.
Destined One:
- [ ] Completely oblivious to what’s going on in your head. He just thinks you like watching him fight and are awed by him.
- [ ] Honestly at first thought you were kinda weird for staring so much until he realized it was in admiration - kinda like how monkey cubs used to watch him train.
- [ ] He won’t admit it nor show it but makes him work harder knowing you’re watching him. He LIKES your stare and likes showing off although again, he’d act dismissive about it (he’s glancing the whole time though to make sure you’re still looking).
- [ ] While he is always focused when fighting….dont be surprised if he accidentally gets a little too cocky with you watching or distracted. Slip ups might happen and he will always make sure youre safe and protected but dont be mad at him…he cant help it LOL.
- [ ] Sometimes though (always) your stare makes him HOT. His fur rippling and his muscles unconsciously flexing as he fights or goes through his trainings/warm ups.
- [ ] This confused him because that is NOT how he normally feels when someone watches him fight.
- [ ] It’s faint, but he also catches something on the wind that he’s not sure what it is but knows it comes from you - and it always makes his mouth water and his body temperature rise.
- [ ] Honored and tickled when you ask him to teach you / train you.
- [ ] Takes teaching you very seriously (for a bit). Very hands on and actually patient - most of the time.
- [ ] This beginning phase is a bit awkward mainly because well…he likes you but doesn’t really realize it fully - youre special to him that much he understands.
- [ ] Since hes not super verbal he’s all about moving you - with your permission at first but then as he continues he just does it automatically because it’s necessary for you to have good form and posture etc.
- [ ] This also gives him first hand experience with touching you but also….now he can be closer to that previously faint scent that comes off you when he’s fighting - he’s still not sure what it is but he notices youre clearly aware of him and after certain moves or him moving you around a lot that scent permeates off you. He slowly becomes addicted to it - and it makes him restless as hell so it takes him some time to adjust and get a handle on himself. Don’t be surprised if he cuts training short sometimes or keeps his distance a little bit - hes kinda….fidgety for reasons.
- [ ] He is a hard teacher though, while he wont be too hard he isnt going to be easy - he wants you to be able to defend yourself properly. So unless you are genuinely overly tired he’s not going to let you falter and stop your training/teaching. Granted…if you give him certain looks or tell him youre truly too tired etc he would let you off the hook - big ol softy. (This only doesn’t happen if there’s serious danger and you MUST learn something - then he’s going to make sure you keep at it)
- [ ] Over time his seriousness doesnt exactly stop BUT his cheeky behavior absolutely comes out - he’s similar to Wukong in this aspect. Expect tricks and mischievous behavior. Pranks. His smug snickers. All that.
- [ ] By now his teaching you is still genuine but there are times when it’s super playful and FUN. This is where you catch him smiling like a jerk or when he’s play fighting with you - sometimes with weapons and sometimes hand to hand.
- [ ] He’s adores when youre playful with him and while is face might not ALWAYS show it especially if he’s trying to pretend to be ‘Come on training is serious’ his tail sure gives him away with how its swaying and swishing happily.
Wukong - Taking his in a slightly different than normal way :)
- [ ] Smug as fuck. Wukong know’s he’s a sight to behold. He’s had many admirers of his form over the years and has taught many monkey warriors in the time he’s been alive. Not only is he used to the stares he’s used to the awe as well. That said, YOUR stare makes him feel the best.
- [ ] The first time he catches you watching him he’s not surprised. But he IS curious. Very curious. To the point of near distraction not that he would show it. He’s going to keep an eye on you from here on out, clocking every one of your facial expressions if he can.
- [ ] Wukong wants to know what youre thinking and sure he’d have ZERO qualms about asking you - he kinda wants to observe. Sometimes we forget how observant Wukong actually is with how loud and in your face he is. Wukong is a plotter and takes note of so many things and yes hes impulsive but it’s shown time and again how calculating and smart he actually is. So hed be watching you back but you wouldn’t know it.
- [ ] Honestly it’s not going to take him long to figure out that SOMETHING about what hes doing makes you squirm. Why? Undetermined. So he decides to keep up his little ‘trap’ and purposely shows off every time he fights or trains. Memorizing every little expression on your face and your body language.
- [ ] While he is…always a controlled chaos sometimes (just like DO) he might get a little TOO distracted and cocky and something not exactly wanted results from it, like you being kidnapped or almost put in danger - or he takes a hard hit.
- [ ] Your scent? Because let’s be honest youre getting hot under the collar watching him…hes going to register it fairly early on with how sensitive his nose is. But I feel like he’s going to lie to himself about it even if he kinda knows what it means. He’s old as hell and has been around many beings, his nose knows that kind of scent. But I think at first he’s going to pretend and lie to himself what it means coming from YOU. Why? Yes hes cocky and you’d think hed get smug (he will eventually) but at first he’s might not exactly understand why YOU hold that scent and why its in regards to when he’s training/fighting.
- [ ] This is one of those times where his general ‘uncaring’ attitude to things like ‘sex’ and ‘romance’ come into play. Not that he doesnt want that with YOU (he definitely dreams about it both sleeping and awake). Just….look hes an idiot. He’s a little blind to his own growing feelings and why would YOU want to roll around with HIM? - Not that he doesnt think hes handsome etc - we all know his ego is the size of the universe. It’s more, hes a MONKEY demon….Usually people only want him to ‘use’ him in some fashion if they hit on him so again, hes gonna be a bit blind - not for long.
- [ ] Regardless, he wont stop showing off. He loves your attention and preens for it like a peacock.
- [ ] Eventually might tease you and say something like “Why are you staring? Want to learn how to fight from Old Sun?” Or something and will be TICKLED TO DEATH when you say yes. He will act overconfident and smug but inside? He’s so excited to share this with you (and that you trust him to be the one to do it).
- [ ] This is going to give him up close and personal access to your normal scent which he loves, but also that special scent. Wukong has a lot of control over himself WHEN HE WANTS. And in these moments he exercises a lot of control. Why? Because you make him twitchy as fuck and his blood run HOT. He is a bit taken aback by his body’s reaction to you and that scent, having never reacted like this to anyone else. The more you spar the more he has to reign himself in - which might turn into grumpy monkey or him ending training for the day, or even mistakes.
- [ ] Might be a little too excited honestly to teach you though - so sometimes he might go overboard or be hasty with his teaching.
- [ ] He is one of those half hands on half ‘let them figure it out’ teachers. While he’s going to of course guide you and make sure you have basics and good form….hes also going to want you to run a bit off instinct. So dont be surprised if hes sitting up in a tree after leading some low level enemy to you and lets you kinda….figure it out or gives you advice.
- [ ] Make no mistake he is ALWAYS right there ready to step in. But hes a bit of a ‘learn on the go’ kind of trainer a lot of the time. Something he’s discovered with training his warriors.
- [ ] But if this doesnt work for you? Best believe he will adjust for you. Might have to fight him about it at first though and show him you mean business and that this way of teaching isnt going to cut it. At the end of the day he wants you to be SAFE and feel confident in your skills. So whatever he needs to do to make that happen? He will.
- [ ] He is a tough teacher in that he doesnt let you give up, give half ass effort, or slack off - Wukong has trained many in his time and while he wont be the ‘Monkey King’ to you giving orders he is serious about you learning and being safe.
- [ ] That said….expect shenanigans. This Monkey is a damn trickster and so dont be surprised when that particular trait shows up during your training or sparring sessions.
- [ ] Not every session is one of over seriousness either. Training and sparring is fun with him as a general rule. Mainly because you are not one of his monkey warriors - youre special.
- [ ] So be prepared for antics or some weird game of the day hes come up with - for an old monkey he is extremely playful.
- [ ] No matter if you just wanted to learn basics or wanted to learn further training your sparring sessions often devolve into screwing around courtesy of Wukongs mischievous nature.
Both: moving into NSFW-ish
- [ ] The more you train with him or spar with him the more he’s going to notice about you - and himself in turn.
- [ ] Your sessions are at times going to become charged with ‘something’, often times leaving you both restless at the end of it.
- [ ] Some days the energy is so thick between you that mishaps happen. Like maybe he grabs you a little too rough or in a specific sensitive spot and a moan leaves your lips - causing you both to freeze and then awkwardly try to navigate the rest of the session.
- [ ] Sometimes your sessions are a little more playful - doing silly things that make you both grin and chase after each other. Things most would probably consider ‘flirting’ or ‘gross’ behavior depending on who you asked.
- [ ] Play fighting is a near constant - wrestling? Oh boy….that starts off great until someone shivers and moans (or bodies grinding on bodies causing those special noises) and “now what do we do” - going into the awkward untangling of limbs.
- [ ] Touches when showing new moves or adjusting stances will linger much longer than necessary, sometimes you both get so caught up you really dont notice until some outside factor startles you both apart.
- [ ] What you dont realize is that most of the time? He has to exercise a lot of self control around you. Your scent and the way you interact with him sends his instincts into chaos - the amount of times he’s almost shoved you to the ground to assert himself over you and give into his own…new urges is staggering.
- [ ] Oftentimes you might have him growling against you - be it from holding himself back or instinctively making sounds as you accidentally brush against a sensitive part of him.
- [ ] Monkey is frustrated beyond belief though - you are too I’m sure.
- [ ] If there are others around you guys - they notice something weird about you two. The lingering eyes, touches, and sometimes awkward fidgeting you do (not in a session). And the tension is thick.
DO: NSFW-ish
- [ ] He’s slow but not that slow when it comes to putting 2 and 2 together. Granted, he might need an extra push. What that is could be anything from accidental grabbing, you feeling his hard on during a session, him causing you to bodily react to him.
- [ ] Wouldn’t be surprised if either he makes a move (unconsciously) and thinks he over stepped. Might try to put distance between you until you fix that immediately. OR depending on your reaction 2+2=4 in his head and “oh they want this, this is happening and yeah”.
- [ ] DO - is a bit of a shy guy though. So while he CLEARLY wants you and now he knows you want him - cue awkward behavior round 2.
- [ ] He may not touch you as much and might keep his distance a bit - why? His instincts are kinda going wild. This is a first for him and he fears overstepping (plus again it’s NEW).
- [ ] Might either need some coaxing OR he’s gonna just pounce one day depending on what YOU do (and your preference!).
- [ ] Sessions are more like foreplay now - sometimes still serious of course!
- [ ] Sessions devolve quickly in an instant - at first being as it’s new and well…you’re thirsty for each other. They are always charged and filled with anticipation. (Later when you’re not as in the honeymoon phase training and sparring is more comfortable and can be JUST training or something more if you want it)
Wukong: NSFW-ish
- [ ] So remember how I said he resists shoving you onto the ground? Yeah…that gets broken.
- [ ] See, the great Sage is strong. A pillar of strength if you will. But not against your scent and reactions to him.
- [ ] At some point he’d come to terms with his own feelings (something dramatic happened let’s be real) - and then finally allowed the idea that YOU wanted him back to fester.
- [ ] Sure, by this point hes kind of screwing with you - out of love - and probably doesnt help either of your situations because hes going to poke and pod at your reactions, enjoying every shiver and hot look you give him. The way your breath catches and how your heart beat quickens. He’s a bit of a smug jerk like that.
- [ ] But after time and time again of being subjected to your intoxicating scent and his instincts taking over Wukong finally snaps.
- [ ] Expect whatever he does to be sudden and dramatic. His restraint shattered - depending on your reaction to him, he may keep going or he may back off.
- [ ] Regardless he is going to want you to tell him you want him and what you want with him - consent king. Even if he’s impulsive he doesnt want something like this to be unwanted.
- [ ] Wukong is a major tease - so training sessions are a test of strength for both of you as he purposefully does things to get you riled up (and you him). Often ends with roam hands and mouths (and tail), or bathing sessions which turn into…getting messy and then bathing for real.
Small note for both:
- [ ] When he discovers - be it you saying so or him putting it together in his head - that you get turned on watching him fight/train/stretch etc…..oh boy. He likes showing off an a good day and now? He’s doing it FOR YOU. He fully understands your scent and gaze as you watch him and will definitely flex and train without much clothes on, on purpose. Will absolutely flaunt himself in front of you (and pretend hes none the wiser).
- [ ] Will tease you about it given the chance.
- [ ] If you notice he has a hard on while training/stretching/fighting - just know its for you because you watching him gets under his skin just as much as he gets under yours.
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bunni-v1 · 2 days ago
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bunni!!! im here with a thought! now i believe lighter is a total masochist. im all here for it. slap him, choke him, torture him, beat him if you wish… but what if you put a shock collar on him? yknow… for good measure. just incase he disobeys like a naughty boy…
imagine his little strangled noises, the whines as he knows hes about to be punished. mm… get him to beg for mercy, for you to forgive him and waive his punishment. do anything, just not the shock collar. you could even put him back in the cock cage! just dont shock him, please!!!
Mini!!! GTFO OF MY HEAD!!!! Jk ily pookie <3
I think the best thing about masochist Lighter is the fact that it's, in a way, incredibly selfish. He won't do things to you, ever, it goes against his moral code. Too loving and sweet to ever think about torturing you like that. On him, though, he's there to service. Use him as you please, that's what he's there for right?
Sure it's torturous and overstimulating and cruel, but you love it so how could he possibly refuse you? Even when you put the cage on, it's okay. He loves it because it's for you. The only issue is... he can easily overpower you if he wants. When you're overstimulating him and he wants to cum, he can just force you to let him because you can't overpower him.
You had to find a solution to, ah, train the behavior out of him. So, you went looking, and what you found was perfect. A pretty red collar with little gold studs, perfect for your pretty boy. You even got him tags, heart-shaped with your number on the back in case he got lost. When you present it to him he's almost confused. He wasn't really into pet play, but sure he'd give it a whirl, but you correct him and wave the remote that comes with it in his face.
Again, not something he considered, but with that smile on your face how could he say no. You let him test it out, picking the setting that he was most comfortable with (which was high, thanks to his insane pain tolerance) beforehand, and thus your little plan goes into action.
You don't use it at all during the usual session, drawing it out particularly long this time. It was more than Lighter was used to and it was almost too much for him to handle. You'd made him cum at least five -- he lost count after the fifth -- and now you were teasing him. It had been at least half an hour of you slowly dragging your fingers along his shaft, he was getting impatient, you could tell. He was whining and crying and drooling, but you just wouldn't give him what he wanted.
Usually, he's able to grab you by your thighs and get what he wants no problem, but you weren't gonna let him this time. As you feel those strong hands pull you, you reach over and press the button on the remote. The reaction is instantaneous, his entire body tensing under you, a confused moan rumbling from the back of his throat. Like the pain was unexpectedly nice to him. Best yet, he cums instantly, sticky white fluid coating your fingers.
"Ooo~ You liked that didn't you?~" You coo at him, and he flusters like a shy little puppy. So adorable. Unfortunately, you didn't tell him he could cum, so it seems like you would just have to draw it out a little longer. It was his fault he was being tortured anyway, he should just behave after all.
It becomes his least favorite, favorite method of torture you use. He can't help but love the sensation, how weak and helpless it makes him to your whims, not to mention how happy you get when he submits to the pain. But, it really sucks that he lost the one thing he had over you when he bottoms.
On good nights you won't bring it out, but the second he starts misbehaving you'll reach for the drawer you store it in, and he immediately gets in line. He'd rather you fuck him without the added threat of that horrible little thing.
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thefixations-ofmine · 1 day ago
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liquid courage and a support system
Bucktommy | 2.8k | Rated mature (no smut) Entry for the @bucktommywinterfest, round 5 Dec. 29 - Jan. 4 prompt: Midnight kiss a/n: this is an idea I got from this exchange here. Again, I suck at titles so please bear with me. There will be a follow-up smut chapter to this, that I will post for a Bingo challenge. And then next week's prompt for the Winter fest will be the following conversation in the morning. Oh and apparently Sal's wife's name is Gina (saw someone say that in the tags and I liked it).
Main Masterlist | Winter fest | AO3
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“Buck, hey! What’s-”
“Eddie!” Buck shouts his name through the phone as soon as he hears his voice. He takes a giggly breath before proceeding; “I’m at a bar downtown with Lucy. Remember Lucy? When you-you quit working with us? Anyway, she told me to go out and have some fun!”
“That’s nice, Buck. So, are you having fun?” There’s a silence after Eddie’s question while Lucy tries to say something from a few feet away, and Buck remembers he’s on a phone call he initiated;
“Hey Eddie, Eddie,” he says, suddenly serious. “I need your help with something.”
“I’m sure that’s why you called.”
Buck bites the insides of his cheeks, second-guessing for a moment until a member of the 133 chimes in and convinces him to go through with the plan. They’d all been sitting around some nachos for an hour, the members of the 127 whining about Tommy’s attitude since the break-up and the 133 chipping in that there had to be an explanation to all of it. In the end, they took Buck’s side of the story, even Lucy, and he knew he hadn’t been worried for no reason.
“I need to go see Tommy before midnight.”
It’s a quick conversation after that. Eddie makes sure Buck knows what he’s doing because if Tommy hadn’t been vocal about the situation to anyone, he might not react so well to being pressured, mostly not tonight of all nights. Despite his friendly advice, Buck insists and convinces Eddie to pick him up and drive him there.
Which he does, thirty minutes and another round of Tequila later.
When they drive onto Tommy’s street, Buck turns the radio off to unscramble the speech in his brain that he intends on giving to maybe, very hopefully, get Tommy to have a conversation with him. At the very least, they both need more context and if Tommy had an actual reason to stay away, Buck would comply. But Lucy was honest when she said she saw a change in Tommy’s demeanor and it wasn’t for the best.
Buck takes deep breaths that contrast the chill December air. His window is starting to fog and Eddie notices.
“There’s still time to turn around, man.” Eddie offers, and Buck shakes his head. He’s gotta do this. For the both of them.
“I’m okay, yeah. I’m okay.” Buck rubs his hands onto his jeans - the tight blue ones he remembers were Tommy’s favourites. The same jeans he wore on the night- Buck shakes his head.
Yeah, he really needs to talk to Tommy.
The house looks a little different, and in his current state, Buck can’t really tell why. The grass is a little longer than usual, but that’s not it. Tommy was never a fancy landscaping guy so the hedge and small bushes are the same. New roof? Nope. Then Buck’s eyes fall onto the bright red, 2019 Charger parked in the driveway and his brows bend with curiosity. Did Tommy have that bad of a crisis that he made an impulsive (and expensive) decision?
Ha! Buck silently laughs to himself now. Ironic.
Eddie catches the change in energy and tries to comfort his friend; “I remember he told me he was thinking of getting a more recent sports car because working on classics was becoming expensive.”
“But he loved his truck. I loved his truck…” Buck whispers, reminiscing over their short trips and the laughs they shared eating take-out and watching planes take off at Burbank. It would make sense though, that Tommy would get rid of such a big piece of them.
Once the truck is parked by the eye-sore, Buck nods and thanks Eddie for driving him over, saying that he’d catch an Uber back to his place if Eddie got called while on his stand-by shift. He jumps out of the truck and wills himself to walk to the door, takes a quick look at his phone.
It’s eleven forty-five.
There are a few seconds too many after his first knock and Buck goes for another, impatient. The door swings open instantly this time. The comforting smell of the house drafts out, bringing up a wave of emotions. His eyes open and with that Buck loses the smile he had put on.
“Can I help you?” There’s a tall, broad man on the other side of the threshold, but it’s not Tommy. The features are similar though; blue eyes, dark hair, muscles all over and a nose that would crunch up on his cheek during a kiss like Tommy’s did. Buck opens his mouth to speak but;
“Who is it, Sal?” Tommy shouts from inside. Sal. What a stupid name.
Sal turns around to tell; “Some random mook”. Then his piercing gaze falls back onto Buck; “You’re bumming out our party. The fuck you want?”
“Um, well-” There are so many scenarios running through Buck’s mind that he forgets everything he needed to say. Tommy’s already got a date? Sure, it’s been over a month and he had his own opportunities, but Buck was convinced Tommy would be alone moping, or at least working an extra shift tonight (Tommy is not a big holiday guy, Buck had found out when he suggested they took the same days off to celebrate). But he’s already found another man to spend his spare time with and the man is gorgeous and not so different from his own physique that Buck can pass it off as an experiment.
He thinks maybe that Sal guy had been there all along. That Buck was in fact the experiment and he’d fallen into the trap. Let the man feed on his naiveness and use his inexperience as some weird superiority kink.
Well, fuck, he thinks. If he’s going down might as well put all the cards on the table and play the game.
“I-I need to talk to Tommy. We have a conversation to have.” Buck straightens up, using the little ounce of alcohol that didn’t coward out of his body to stand his ground. “He should be with me tonight.”
The man laughs as he realizes who he’s talking to, and it boils Buck’s blood.
“You? You’re the reason I had to pick Tommy off the ground?” Sal slaps his knee and looks over inside the house again but doesn’t speak. While he does so, Buck scans him over, looking for a weak point. He’s not above fighting this with his fists - remember the alcohol? - but the man could slam dunk him one-handed.
“Oh, that’s rich,” Sal adds with a deep hum. He looks Buck up and down. Bites his bottom lip. “I guess I can see it. Tall boy with the curls and puppy eyes. I would have been all up in there as well. Worth the heartache.”
“The fuck you mean?” Buck’s hands are forming into fists in his hoodie’s pockets and he’s turning the same colour as the hideous car parked behind him. Which he now understands is this prick’s belonging.
“Boy, listen. Tommy had a good run with you, but I’m here with him now. He doesn’t need to take your hand and walk you everywhere like a lost child anymore.” Sal walks back and starts closing the door but Buck’s hand is quick to stop it.
“I’m sure he didn’t mind that. You should have seen his face the first time I called him daddy. Fucked me for three days straight, something you probably can’t keep up with,” Buck spits, the taste of the statement burning like bile on his tongue. He can see surprise spread across Sal’s face, before he retorts.
“I’m the top, baby. Tommy lets me do what I want with him. And his whimpers are delicious.” Buck knows. Buck’s been on the giving end of those whimpers, and if Tommy was honest with him, he was the first one to bring him there, and-
“Maybe I can show you how to make him cry your name too.” Buck’s inside the house now, backing Sal into the dresser as they go about fighting this like bulls. He goes on to say more arrogant shit that he hopes will fall into the right ears and grant him points. Even if deep down he knows this is childish and stupid and wasting him some precious time.
“That didn’t make him want to move in with you, did it?” Sal sends the final straw as he rubs his chin evilly.
Buck’s eyes land on Sal’s hand and his stomach drops. He looks at the ring on his finger and his mouth falls open, speechless. There’s a stinging feeling of defeat cutting through his entire being, like he came all the way here for nothing. Like the last months were for nothing.
Before Buck can either fall to his knees in sobs or turn around without a word, a feminine frame comes into view and the woman circles an arm around Sal, a big diamond decorating the hand that’s running up his chest. She looks up at him, the stern expression across her face making him check his posture, and suddenly Buck’s even more confused than he was.
“Tommy, come talk to the poor boy,” she says and pulls Sal back to the living room by the hand.
Buck looks over to his right and he feels like passing out.
*
“He should be with me tonight.”
Tommy freezes in place, takes a step back to hide behind the dividing column between the living room and kitchen as if this wasn’t his goddamn house. He takes a deep breath, looks over at Gina on the couch and makes a face: that’s him, he mouths. She giggles at his frightened composure. He’s too drunk for this. 
Hearing Ev-, Buck’s voice triggers emotions he thought he had drowned deep enough with holiday cheer; shame. Regret. Love. And now all he wants is to run out, pull him into his arms tight enough until they fuse together and he can never lose him again. But the conversation has taken a turn and Tommy… Well, Tommy enjoys what he’s hearing. His body goes slack when he hears Buck fight for him. Everything he’s saying is true and he wants to prove it again. Fuck, he misses him.
He’d have a conversation with Sal later about the things he’s saying to rile him up. Slap the back of his head for good measure because Buck could have run off and Tommy’s not sure he’d have the courage to go after him and pick up that mess on top of the one he created, but for now, he chuckles and lets them ‘fight’ over him for the sake of the show. When Sal pulls out his last line though, Tommy’s expression drops and Gina darts past him before he can will himself to take a step. She defuses the bomb.
“Tommy, come talk to the poor boy.” He watches as they walk back into the living area and he meets Buck’s eyes.
He has very little time to make a decision and he probably looks like a deer in headlights. He wants to be cool and composed. Make Buck believe he’s got his life together and that leaving wasn’t the dumbest thing he did. But his baby is standing there in his house and he hates how uneasy he seems. Tommy closes his eyes and breathes in, looks at the stove on his left.
It’s eleven fifty-seven.
“Come in,” he says, barely loud enough to hear himself say it. He has to wave Buck in, and his heart skips a beat when he agrees and closes the door. Tommy turns to the fridge and gathers two beer bottles, even though their systems could do without. It’s a habit, getting something for Buck, because ‘love languages’ or whatever. And old habits die hard.
“Let’s talk on the patio,” Tommy adds, pointing with the neck of the bottle. Buck follows willingly, a faint smile spreading over his face. Tommy sees him look at Sal and Gina sitting hip to hip on the couch and he realizes he has some explaining to do, but as they walk behind the couch, Sal reaches back and pulls Buck by the hoodie.
“Sorry kid but you know I had to test you. You seem alright,” he says. “Don’t fuck up your chance though. I know where you live.” Buck looks at Tommy with worry and Tommy waves his head ‘no’ in reassurance. The room lights up in chuckles and Buck joins them, eyes watery nonetheless. Then Tommy’s gaze lands on the TV and he sees the countdown go by on the broadcast downtown. Seven, six, five, four-
Panic takes over him and when he turns to look at Buck, he’s met with the exact same questioning look. He should have had more time before this. At least say hi properly and get to the apologies first. But Tommy raises his brows and Buck nods with a shaky exhale. Then their lips collide in a clumsy but oh so perfect kiss.
The angle is awkward and this should be a quick peck, but they stay like this for several more seconds, both their hands just hovering around them not quite ready to cross a line.
Happy New Year! The TV chants, and they pull away. The scene mirrors that of their first kiss; Tommy pulls back with his eyes closed, scared that if he opens them then the nightmare will come back and Buck will be gone. But when he pushes himself to do so, Buck is standing there, a tear falling onto his cheek and he’s holding his breath, mouth agape and his eyes search deep into his soul.
Tommy’s ears are ringing but it’s not the fireworks outside. It’s the beating of his heart that’s threatening to fall out of his chest. And he listens to it, grabs Buck’s neck and pulls him back in. The second round is hungry, determined, and the beers have been set on the couch console in favor for their hands to roam freely across charted territory. Tommy finds his favourite dip at the base of Buck’s back, his other hand still wrapped around his Adam's apple. His body shivers when he feels two strong hands run up his front until they settle onto his chest for a light squeeze.
It’s raw and meaningful and unbothered, until someone clears their throat.
*
“I’ll set the dishes in the sink. The leftovers are stored away, but I’m leaving with this amazing fruit cake,” Gina says with Sal in tow.
“W-wait, I didn’t mean to stop you guys, I-”
“Kid, if Lucy hadn’t convinced you to come here before midnight, I would have personally driven mister lonesome here to your place.” Sal loves the moment everything clicks in Buck’s mind and he shoots a look at Tommy who’s turning red. “We were just keeping him company until then.” He winks.
Buck stands there speechless, a little dumbfounded but the smile on his face could light up the city. Tommy also had a plan. The same plan, as it turns out, mastered by the same minds. His dick twitches in the god awful tight jeans knowing Tommy wanted to fight for him. And maybe from the taste of Tommy lingering on his lips.
“Well, we’ll be on our way. Be safe!” Gina adds before gathering their stuff and heading for the door. Sal stops to give Tommy a hug and whispers something to him, to which Tommy nods in agreement.
“And you!” Buck goes cross-eyed looking at his finger. “Don’t be too comfortable being ‘whatever’. Put labels. Be happy that you can do that now. Let people know Tommy’s your boyfriend, whether you’re gay or queer or,” he stops and makes a hand gesture for Buck to finish.
“Bisexual,” he answers.
“There. It’s easy to say, huh? Let people know. Who ever gives a fuck shouldn’t be in your life anyway.” With those wise words, Sal walks past him and out the door. Buck almost starts liking the guy before the roaring of the Charger vibrates through the house and he remembers he could probably never deal with that ego. Tommy seems to notice the disgust on his face and laughs.
“Talk?” Tommy points towards the couch this time, but Buck takes a step closer and brings his hands to his hips.
“You took tomorrow off?” Tommy nods. “Then tomorrow.”
Buck pushes Tommy back against the counter and attacks his mouth again. That would satisfy him, really. Kissing the love of his life in his house. This is what Buck should have emphasized during their last conversation, he thinks. But there’s little time for thinking when Tommy starts undoing his pants and moans obscenely into his open mouth.
“I’ll spend the night on my knees if you ask me to, baby. Don’t worry,” Buck whispers, smug. God he missed this. He runs his hand down the front of Tommy’s pants and tears burn his eyes at the contact with his engorged dick.
“Evan,” Tommy begs faintly.
-
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