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#and he has the most annoying crow ever
seabeck · 2 years
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Andy: Buddy, when you go to sleep tonight, I’m going to come over here and scream in your face
Cannoli: COCKADOODAHAHHHHHHHHHH
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yuridovewing · 25 days
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genuinely embarrassing how blossomfall gets more fandom sympathy than breezepelt. “boohoo my sister is disabled and my mommy is emotionally abusing her paying more attention to her than me and i hate my stupid ass sister for getting herself disabled and wish she died. also im a grown ass woman.” vs “my dad hit and neglected me as a child and isolated me from my clanmates and it left me maladjusted and seeking validation from terrible sources and its implied hes like this because he’s drooling after the one that got away” like how is this not cut and dry. you cant even soak in the shitty “well breezepelt was a shitty kid” excuse because blossomfall was also shitty before and after the incident. tbh, id argue she’s shittier because breezepelt actually did change his behavior while blossomfall is just as bigoted as ever.
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deunmiu-dessie · 5 months
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price, after seeing you with kids, vows to himself that he'll get you pregnant.
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  "i'm so happy you guys could make it!"
    john watches fondly as you smile. it's wide and genuine, the action making your nose scrunch up; your head tilting to the side to mimic the woman's excitement─ and john can hardly take his gaze off of you. your eyes glimmer at the sight of your heavily pregnant best friend and the woman watches with a soft smile as the two of you make your way up their driveway. 
 your body is tucked away underneath john's arm, the usual warmth of your perfume; a sweet and spicy blend of saffron and sugared vanilla, has him unable to keep his hands off of you and he makes it obvious with the way his thumb rubs back and forth over your bare shoulder. and you're just as guilty as he is, with the way your hand is nestled snuggly in the back pocket of his jeans, the other stationed right atop his hand that rests affectionately on your shoulder. 
when the two of you can make it to gatherings in your neighborhood, there's bound to be talk and swooning about you and john the next day. most women were envious that even after being together for years, it seemed like the two of you were still in your honeymoon phase.
 "jas! babe, what are you doing up?" your voice is a teasing lilt as you shimmy your way out from under john's arm, looking back at him briefly to flash him a pleased smile. however, it's different from the one you sent jasmine earlier, it's softer, intimate, and familiar and it warms his belly better than bourbon ever could; his eyes soften and he smiles back, the crow's feet around his eyes deepening. 
despite john only having a few days off until his next mission, which he had wanted to spend with you, cuddled up next to the fireplace and watching movies, or perhaps cooking and baking with each other, all lovey-dovey and tête-à-tête─ you had instead asked if he could spare a day and go to a cookout hosted by a mutual friend. 
of course, he couldn't say no to you. not when you looked so reluctant to ask in the first place, with your eyebrows furrowed and a small frown marring your lips─ the same lips he had languidly kissed until it flipped right side up, with gentle murmurs of reassurance. besides, john didn't mind jasmine's husband. tom was a retired colonel of the army and they had hit it off quite quickly, especially given john's position. 
  reluctantly, john's eyes drift away from where you stand hugging jasmine, immediately spotting tom who is situated with a few other men at the grill. sucking in a breath, john made his way over to them, a smile splitting his cheeks when tom notices him, his tongs clanging against the metal. "well i'll be damned, if it isn't john, fucking, price." 
 the two men join hands briefly, "tommy, i've been gone a few months and she's already pregnant again." john chuckles softly at tom's sheepish look, the man's cheeks pinkening. "m'surprised y'r balls haven' shriveled up yet." john finishes, dropping into a squat to pluck a lone water nestled amongst the beers. “well, what can i say? she’s all over me!” tom, through his boisterous laughter at his own joke, notices the bottle and sends john a smirk, "you gone in a few days?"
 john grunts, hoping to save himself from the conversation, talk of work right now would only annoy him. tom clasps him on the shoulder firmly and sends him a mocking grin, perhaps this is why john liked tom, banter flowed naturally between the two of them. john was reminded of gaz time and time again when holding a conversation with the retired colonel. "it's as i said before. maybe it's time for you to settle down, you're not getting any younger."
  john grunts at that one too, eyes scanning the bustling cook-out to look for your comforting presence. he immediately finds you amongst your group of friends, a newborn babe nestled in the crook of your arms delicately and other children playing a simple version of tag around your legs. you're gazing down at the baby with envious adoration, eyes sparkling with awe and something akin to being maternal and it knocks the breath from his throat, his heart swelling within his chest at the sight of you. 
   and for a moment, he pictures that you're holding his child in your arms and that those are his kids circling your legs. and it's when your eyes somehow find his, your smile shy and your eyes almost pleading, that he swears to himself that he'll get you pregnant. and an ache to see your belly swollen with his child starts in his chest before traveling straight to his cock. tom chuckles, it's a knowing and judgment-free look. "i guess your mind is made up, huh captain?"
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aly4khq · 11 days
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𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐓𝐇 - ✩✩✩
✩✩✩ - 𝓼𝔂𝓵𝓾𝓼
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ꜱᴜᴍ: your little stalker crow overheard you talking about sex with him but it didn't go how you thought it would.
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: edging, sex from behind, hair pulling, bondage, marking, pussy eating, crying, praise.
ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 1k+, i think because i did the calculation and then forgot it all!!
ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: i can't believe that sylus has taken over my mind like this, but i will forever be a rafayel girlie 🤞🏾
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"i promise you that it's never been hard to take dick, all you need is the strength, errr–technique!, the right man and the right puss, if you get me." you casually spoke to your friend as the two of you sat and ate your food in a restaurant, the atmosphere calming even thought the conversation was taking more of a deeper meaning — which all started with the question 'how do you take dick in such a small hole?'. the same question that you used to ask to your friends when you were a virgin, well, when you and sylus weren't together yet. but this conversation about sex in general only began when she had asked about how it was like dating the one and only Head of Onychinus, Mr Sylus himself. and probably how you survive being with a merciless, roughed-edged man.
"yeah but what if you aren't the problem?" she spoke like it was the most obvious question ever, your head tiring in response. urging her to continue, she complied, "what if you are all prepared and sexy and shit but the other one is..lacking horribly in that department. you do realise that we're talking about modern men here, not your love obsessed man you've gotten. i mean—" she rambled on, forgetting all about your food and her carbonara that sat untouched on the table near the window. the both of you enjoying your time and speaking to the other.
"yes but that's why you don't have sex on the same day you meet them you dumbass, you wait. if you want a little...pleasure or so, then i beg you just buy a massive dildo and firm it." she looked at you like there was the biggest disgusting deep secret that was suddenly displaced on your face, a deep frown as you sighed in response. "come on, boo. what do you want me to say to ease your worries?" your tone went from calming to worried, wanting to help your younger buddy with her poor scared self.
"um...this sounds so disgusting and weird but what was your first time like?" they bluntly asked, their eyes diverted from your figure to the table— the window— oh the table again. they were obviously nervous to begin with, not wanting to overstep boundaries but also just wanting some advice with someone they trust. "well..you know, my first time was with my current mannn—" "okay we get it, get to the point." you scoffed, kicking their ankle under the table as they hissed. their hand going to rub the poor slightly throbbing flesh that you currently assaulted. "pardon you? don't get bratty with me, missy."
"anyway, he was gentle with me. taking it slow and easy, but also testing my limits a little, trying to see how much i can really take but also trying to ease me into it-do you get what i'm saying?" they nodded, my hands rested under my chin as they listening intensely. you thought, a finger on your lip as you hummed. it was a comfortable silence until they spoke up, pretending to be annoyed. "do you guys rawdog each other so much you've forgotten? if he that obsessed?"
you let out a hearty chuckle, before trying to answer, only to be interrupted by them again. their scoffs of fake innocence but also curiosity filling the table. "what the best size for a dick?" as the silence grew, your finger went to your bottom lip that was jutting out, deep in thought. many many sounds going through your poor brain until you realised. your body slightly flinched, your hands dropping from your lips as your eyes widening. like a light bulb popping beside your head, the thought came into your mind. both of your eyes finally met, your playful gaze scaring everyone that sees.
"well, the best ones are ones that are thicker instead of longer, the longer it is the harder it is to take personally. i've never met someone with both though—" you were interrupted by your phone vibrating in your pocket, the familiar feeling instantly made you dig you hand in and check who was calling you at this time. oh, speaking of the devil, it was sylus. your finger pressed accept, before you put it on phone instead of speaker. you held the phone to your ear before pressing your ear and your shoulder together to continuing eating your food. your friend also continuing, eating her barely touched food.
"hello?—" "the best ones are thicker than longer huh?" you halted, your friend staring at you in confusion as you tried to come back to earth, the switches turning in your mind. after finally finding a way to speak, you let out a little nervous giggle, "well—um, i think it's true..?" his deep chuckle was enough to give you and idea of what's awaiting you. "come home. and quickly, sweetie." with the three buzz's, you realised that he was not gonna let you forget about this one. "...mephisto that silly silly bird..." you politely spoke to your friend, "hey sorry, sylus needs me at home, are you okay with me leaving now?" your friend was confused until a playful smile came onto their lips, "someone's gonna get dicked downnn." you slapped their shoulder roughly before calling a waiter to pack the food for you too.
once you both had split your ways and you were finally back in the comfort of his mansion, you walked through your bedroom door before instantly being retrained by the hands. a crimson and black misty string surrounding your wrists as a tough, firm arm came around your neck, holding your flesh gently. "thicker...is—" his grip tightened. "—better, but you've never met someone with both?" your own hands struggled against his evol, eyes shocked but it slowly changed to one's of playfulness. but he beat you to it, "why are you lying, kitten?" you let out a huff of brattiness, "well it's true, is it not? i'm not lying, basta—ARDD! sylus!" he flipped you over, shoving you onto the bed. your stomach on the edge of the mattress as you scoffed. "you!—" "i'll remind you of what it's like."
and thats how it started.
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his hands pulled on the waistband of your skirt, the material was slowly ripped off of your body. the sounds of strings of fabric being pulled away from each other filling the room that was already stuffed with lust and anticipation. but that beautiful silky skirt cost you a good £10 in primark, "hey! that skirt cost me a good tener!" you complained, your head turning to stare at the drunk man behind you, his own glare was focused on your peachy butt admiring the shine from the moonlight before it shifted to your eyes. his glare alone makes your pussy clench, clench around absolutely nothing but air.
reluctantly, your head turned back around, resting the side of your head on the soft duvet below you as your arm stayed trapped behind your back. a deep sigh can from your mouth as you got comfortable, but not for long. you hissed, feeling the sharp sting of his fingernails digging into your skin. the amount of force being put into it was incredibly pleasurable. the pain nearly instantly turning into delight, shameless moan escaping your mouth. "uuhhh!...mhm..!" just then, his fingers ran over your skin that was dented with his marks, the feeling overwhelmingly ticklish. his fingers only giving you satisfactory and he has barely even undressed or touched you properly. you squirmed like crazy, twitching at every sensitive touch on your curves.
"ah! sylus!" you backed away, trying to escape the moment. his chuckles were annoyed, he was so annoying. his hands pushed you back onto the back by your thighs, his purlicue just lifting the gloves of your ass up to feel the softness of your skin. "jeez, take a picture it'll last longer—"
CLICK! you halted at the sound, it was normal for you to be photographed by him but what confused you was why the sound was on. "did you put the shutter sound on just for that?" you scoffed, trying to make him sound petty — which he is — before he latched his mouth onto your pussy just like that. "oh! wow- ah! there! right there..." he was ruthlessly sucking on your folds, your thighs clenching around his head tightly at the sensation. the feeling of his tongue sending shocks up your spine and straight to your pussy. but there was no point because he was already sucking your clit with precision and accuracy.
his tongue reaching far into your hole, swirling around making a mess with your folds. but he wasn't as gentle as he was with his hands, those fingers were just nicely caressing your thighs, running up and down your delicate skin with admiration. a few satisfied grunts coming from his mouth that was covering in your juices. "huuuh!— sy- right there! mhm!" your leg slowly rose from its position on the floor, you body backing up towards him as the feeling became overwhelming, his tongue always managed to make you squirm
his tongue reached deep into your hole, your body clenching around his own organ with sensitivity. "hahhh!" you could feel the tension in your tummy begin to rise, the feeling getting even harder to keep to yourself. yet you could barely even warn sylus. the coil snapped as your let yourself go on his tongue, delighted grunts leaving his mouth as he nodded. "that's some good fucking pussy, jeez sweets." his body lifted from his position of the floor to hover behind you.
the sounds of his belt clanking against the marble floor made you tense up, your thighs pressed together while your pussy clenched around nothing. you could just hear your man undressing, getting ready to take you nasty. but nothing could prepare you from the amount of restraints you were put in. his hands still kept a firm grasp on your already tied hands whilst his other hand went for your locks; pulling gently to hear your sounds. a deep sigh escaping your mouth as he slowly slid himself inside, making sure you feel every inch with precision. "come on," ",a little more." ",you can do way more than that baby." his sounds of praise weee enough for you to tell out his name. birds flapping away from the windowsill at the sound of your scream, sadly one of them being the poor crow that sylus possesses.
he gave you a good 1 minute to relax into his touch before he began moving...at a slow pace, his hands holding onto your wrists as he caressed the soft flesh of your arms and hands to give you some reassurance that you were doing good. "well done...well done baby." his pace only increased once he saw that you were starting to run away from the sheer force of his hips, even though he was going slow, his pelvis connected with the gloves of your ass with a harsh plap! and yes did he continue to torture you. your eyes producing tears as the pleasure and pain from his dick and his hand pulling of your hair, but you were soothed. "shh...shh...don't cry baby. just take it."
you began to squirm, your hips shaking as well as your back arcing and moving around from his body. a scoff echoed the room. "take it," his voice was harsh, the tone rushed yet also so precise with every single syllable. you moaned out loud with delight, feeling him so deep that your speech was nearly gone. his thrust went straight up to your lungs. "you said you've never—" thrust. "met someone—" thrust. "with a long and thick dick huh? huh?—" thrust.
"so take it, take both."
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do not steal @aly4khq's work even tho they are trash!
date made: 8-10/9/24
i do not give permission to repost, claim as your own or copy elsewhere.
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shy-writer-999 · 1 month
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Embarrassing Confessions: Zoro is a virgin and he's insecure (Part 1)
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Warnings: MDNI, AGELESS BLOGS DNI. THIS IS NSFW CONTENT.
Author’s note: Part One is tame angst and pure plot (no smut), ~5,400 words. Part Two will have all the smut, so stick around for that. I have a fascination with the idea of Zoro pining over you in secret and getting flustered and embarrassed about it. In this fic, Zoro’s ego gets bruised and you comfort him. You both get drunk and Zoro runs his mouth too much. It’s a slow burn like my last fic and will also end with smut (◡‿◡✿) Plz note that the reader is sort of giving OC, she (you) gives a brief description of ‘losing’ her virginity to some guy from ‘back home’.
TW: Alcohol abuse – Zoro blacks out; also if you have emetophobia maybe skip this one? There's a brief nod to the usual hangover symptoms.
Embarrassing Confessions: Zoro is a virgin and he's insecure (Part 1)
Word on the ship was that Zoro was still a virgin. It had slipped out somehow, maybe in a game of spin the bottle or never-have-I-ever. But you learned about it secondhand when Sanji made fun of him for it, right in Zoro's face. Sanji said something crude, along the lines of "Zoro's just mad because his virgin ass has never gotten his dick wet."
Zoro was immediately livid. His face turned red and he snapped back with "Shut up Sanji, you don't even know what the fuck you're talking about. Fuck you." Genuinely upset, he stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind him. When Sanji and Zoro bickered it usually had an element of playfulness, casualness, genuine annoyance, yes, but... you weren't sure that Sanji had said anything this cruel and embarrassing before, outing something that Zoro was, obviously, uncomfortable with and most likely embarrassed by.
You were surprised, both by Zoro’s reaction and the simple fact itself. You had always assumed that Zoro got action wherever he went, I mean, look at him. To think that he had never felt the touch of a woman… you honestly couldn’t wrap your head around it. And you felt like a creep because you were intrigued by it. Truthfully, your intrigue was not arousal but rather an earnest desire to learn more about this man who you had been developing feelings for, for months.
The only person who knew about your feelings was Nami. As soon as Sanji made the remark and Zoro stormed out, you immediately looked at Nami, and she glanced at you at the same time. It was like you exchanged a thought or read each other’s minds, one of those unspoken moments with your best friend across the room. It was a “what the fuck?” moment, a split second, but you knew that Nami would want you to go after Zoro and try to comfort him somehow.
You loved Sanji like a brother, but sometimes he could be a real asshole. “Nice one, Sanji,” you said sardonically, dead-pan and annoyed. “I think that was over the line this time.” You stared him down coldly. He immediately jumped to self-defense, but you waved your hand and told him to “can it,” as you exited onto the deck to see if Zoro was doing okay. You had no idea what you would say to him to make him feel better and you were sure that anything you said would come off as corny and patronizing, but you were damned well going to try. After all, it seemed like no one on the ship could talk about these things with Zoro except for you. There was something about you that made him open up, show a softer side, share things that he would otherwise have kept to himself.
Zoro was nowhere to be seen on deck, so that left only one option. You climbed up to the crow’s nest where he was sitting, scowling, and looking out over the open ocean. He was clearly mulling over Sanji’s comment in his head, turning it over and examining it from different angles, sitting in the embarrassment and trying to figure out why he felt so much shame. He never had put much energy into women, had no urge to ‘lose’ his virginity, as if that was an actual object that one could lose (he scoffed at the thought).
For a long time, Zoro felt like he wasn’t missing out on anything—as far as women were concerned, he couldn’t be asked. But in the past few months he had been feeling differently, no thanks to you. That’s why when he saw you climb into the crow’s nest after suffering that embarrassment from Sanji, he muttered fuck to himself and scowled even harder.
“Spare me the embarrassment,” he grumbled, turning his face away from you. He was starting to blush, but you didn’t notice it.
“That got you pretty worked up, huh?” You sat down on the floor near to him, cocking your head so you could peer more into his face, inspecting his impression, which he obviously did not feel like sharing.
Your observation was met with a terse silence.
“Hey, Zoro?” You said softly. He turned to meet your eyes as your tone shifted and you were caught off guard by how vulnerable and tortured his expression was. “It’s not a big deal. No one on the crew cares or thinks any less of you. Sanji was just trying to get under your skin, he didn’t mean to be cruel or malicious. You know he loves you like a brother.”
Zoro sighed and rested his head in his hands. “I know. I don’t know why I let that jackass piss me off so much… I guess he struck a nerve. I- I’ve been feeling… I don’t fucking know. I guess I’ve been feeling kind of... self-conscious about it, recently…” He trailed off. You were shocked by his candor. You were used to him being honest and more vulnerable with you, but this was more than you had been expecting. He was truly opening up to you. You had never seen him show an ounce of self-doubt or insecurity before.
“Yeah?” You prompted, feeling like he had more that he wanted to say. He turned to you again.
“I never really gave a shit about this kind of stuff before, y’know? I’ve got other stuff to keep me busy. But… recently… I don’t know.” He sighed.
You nodded in response. Zoro was a man of few words when it came to emotional vulnerability, and you could tell that the conversation was coming to a close.
“Well, Zoro, if you ever want to talk about it, I’m here. I was kind of a late bloomer so… I get it.” You looked at him carefully. “Let’s grab a drink later, ‘kay?” He nodded, and that was it.
You didn’t know that you were the main reason Zoro had been reflecting on being a ‘virgin’ (he hated that word). Talking to you about it made him feel some sort of way that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Something inside of him twisted a little bit when you had looked into his eyes so seriously and with so much care. He tried to shrug it off and went back to cursing Sanji in his head, avoiding the actual dilemma he was facing, choosing escapism and mentally berating Sanji instead.
---
That night, you and Zoro cracked open a few bottles of sake, as promised. You had done this countless times in the past and nothing weird or unexpected happened except a few lingering glances that you both played off. But tonight it seemed like Zoro was drinking more than usual. You got the impression that he was drinking away his sorrows or drinking to forget about how genuinely upset he had been earlier in the day.
You were matching his drinks, as you sometimes did, just for fun. It felt like a kind of silly competition between you two sometimes. But keeping up tonight was hard, you were already getting a stomachache and could feel the dehydration creeping in… you knew the hangover was going to be a monster.
When he got drunk drunk, Zoro could become callous, rude, sarcastic, kind of an ass. He never really sent that in your direction, it was frequently towards Sanji, sometimes Usopp, Luffy, even Nami, if he really was going crazy. It was your least favorite characteristic about him; it was concerning, and it was a huge turn-off. But usually it wasn’t too bad, only mildly annoying. At worst, it gave you a sort of mini-ick.
Tonight was shaping up to be one of those nights, had it not taken an unexpected left turn. You and Zoro were the only crew members drinking, and everyone else was doing their own thing. It was dusk, warm outside, and the stars overhead were already breathtaking. You found yourselves back in the crow’s nest. This was honestly Zoro’s safe space—the isolation gave him peace of mind.
Zoro was laying on his side, with his head propped up on one arm, leisurely facing you. You had been bickering and talking over silly things for a couple hours at this point, like tidbits of sword-making history, or how much meat you’ve seen Luffy eat at once. After a lull in conversation, Zoro finally broached what had been on his mind all day, a nagging thought at the back of his head that he knew that he shouldn’t ask, but he grew bolder as he got drunker. And he was getting drunker.
“Hey, Y/N,” he began. “When did you lose your virginity?”
That was really out of the blue. You were shocked by the question, not expecting it at all. You two had never talked about anything like this. Oftentimes it was Sanji crossing the line and you telling him to fuck off. But for Zoro to go there…? Weird. He was presumably just wondering about it since you said you were a late bloomer too, and you guessed he must be seeking validation. After all, he was obviously embarrassed about the whole thing. A little reassurance and sincerity couldn’t hurt.
“Well, uh…” You hesitated. “I actually had sex for the first time a couple years ago.” That was enough of an answer, right? No point in oversharing.
“What was that like?” He got bolder, locking eyes with you. He was certainly drunk, and you were too. But beyond that, you felt the vibe shift and his eyes seemed more intense. Your voice got caught in your throat for a second. He probably was just seeking some reassurance, right? Everyone always talked about how they had a horrible first time, I’m sure he’s looking for more confirmation or something like that because he’s insecure… you said to yourself.
“Oh, uh… It wasn’t the best first time but also not the worst. It wasn’t as bad as everyone kind of makes their first time seem, if you know what I mean? It was with some guy from my hometown, we grew up together. Kind of like a childhood crush, boy-next-door type of vibe.”
Zoro felt a pang of jealousy. The alcohol pushed him deeper into a grave of embarrassment, rash behavior, and unspoken boundary breaking that he was about to start digging.
“Lucky guy.” He murmured, barely audible, as he shifted onto his back with his hands behind his head, staring up at the sky. He wasn’t looking at you anymore, now staring straight up. You could see him exhale, jaw clenching.
Wait, what did he just say? ‘Lucky guy’?
You had no idea how to respond to that. He seemed to be implying that the man you slept with was lucky. And why would that be?
An unsure “What?” escaped your lips. It was purely a reflex, you weren’t expecting a real answer, you figured he was going to laugh it off, you heard him wrong, something like that. This was like really out of character for him, at least in your experience. You had honestly wondered if he was asexual sometimes because he just never said stuff like this and had never talked about it to anyone on crew. To hear him ask about this sort of thing after all this time was surprising. Maybe there was a side to him that you never knew.
Without hesitation, Zoro responded immediately, doubling down. “I said, lucky guy.” He turned and looked at you and blush quickly flooded your face. He wasn’t smiling, and his gaze was bold and almost piercing, so… it wasn’t a joke. Unless it was? If he was fucking with you then that would be weird as hell.
“Oh, uh… I guess he was lucky! Hahaha…” You tried to play it off with an awkward smile and half-hearted chuckle, hoping he didn’t notice that your face was bright red.
But Zoro kept going. “Were you surprised that I’m still a virgin?” You now realized he was faintly slurring his words. “I’m just curious.”
What was up with all these questions? You sighed. Well, whatever he wants to find out I guess he’ll find out. Looks like we’re playing 20 questions.
“Yeah, Zoro,” you responded. “To be honest, I was surprised.”
“Why?”  He asked forcefully, but this time he sat up from where he was laying and pulled himself a couple of feet in your direction. This would make him maybe a foot away from you, looking at you straight on. Your heart beat quickened.
Ok now this is getting weird. What is his angle? He must be feeling bad about the whole thing and now he’s fishing for compliments. With this conclusion, you rolled your eyes at him and exhaled. You could be playful with him now that you realized he just had a bruised ego, it wasn’t more serious than that. He was being a little pathetic, but that was all.
“Zoro, I’m surprised because you’re manly, strong, and attractive. Is that what you wanted to hear?” You kind of laughed.
And while you thought Zoro was fishing for compliments, you were wrong. He was finally asking you questions that had been burning in his mind for days. He sincerely wanted to know what you really thought of him, simple as that. And he was curious about your sexual life. He certainly was very drunk but even so, he still cringed as he asked each question. But fuck, he just had to know. He wanted to know so bad that he felt like he was suffocating. He had to have answers, but he was getting dizzy, his body felt heavy, all he knew was that he wanted to be closer to you.
He scooted closer again, so that your knees were touching. At this point your heart was beating out of your chest. His face was less than a foot away from yours. He may not have known, but you did have a painfully intense crush on him, and his closeness was having quite the effect on you. It was the same for him, too.
“Do you really mean that, or are you just saying it?” He slurred out again, stronger this time, leaning even closer. Your faces were maybe six inches away now. You were likewise feeling intoxicated, and it made time feel like it was slowing down, slogging along. Your intoxication was making you not only extremely thirsty (in both ways) but it was making you hyper aware and locked in to the blisteringly intense eye contact Zoro was holding with you, almost not blinking.
“I-I really mean it.” You squeaked out, almost as a whisper. Holy fuck, was he about to kiss you?
“Good.” He mumbled, and then he placed one of his huge hands on the cusp of your knee and thigh. He squeezed. You inhaled sharply. His eyes were still glued to yours. There’s no way he didn’t see your blush, it was vivid. He started to lean in, maybe for a kiss, perhaps he was advancing with no goal other than to be closer to you.
Right when you felt like you were about to explode from the blood rushing to your face and your heart beating out of your chest, Zoro’s eyes closed and he abruptly collapsed forward into your lap, letting out what sounded like a groan and then… was that…. Snoring? It looked like the alcohol suddenly hit him like a truck all at once.
Sure enough, you leaned over him and saw that he was passed out on your lap, mossy hair ruffled, and his mouth open ever so slightly. He is prone to sleeping randomly, you shrugged, and God, he looks so good. He even smelled good.
You sat there until you calmed yourself down, feeling his heavy weight in your lap, the warmth of his skin pressing onto yours. He hadn’t let go of your thigh yet. You shook his shoulder lightly. It was time for the night to be over—he needed to get off you so that you could get him water, a pillow, and a blanket. He’d have to fall asleep up in the crow’s nest because there was no way you could pick him up or drag him downstairs.
“Hey, Zoro?” You said softly. “Zoro, you need to wake up a bit. You need to move so I can get you a pillow and blanket. It’s bedtime. Hey.” You shook him again and couldn’t help but notice the hard ripples of his muscles under his shirt. You paused for a moment and patted his head. “Zoro. Wake up.”
“Wha-what?” He groaned, raising his head ever so slightly.
“Zoro, I need to get up really quick. Lay down on your side for me, ok?
He groaned again, making your heart skip a beat. Fuck, that noise was hot. Sheesh.
Evidently a colossal effort, Zoro squeezed your thigh tightly one last time then raised himself just barely enough to collapse onto his side on the floor next to you. You peered at him for a second, thinking he was passed out again, making sure he was ok. As you rose to your feet and started to climb downstairs, he stirred.
“Baaaby,” he grunted out needily. “Are you coming back, baabbbyy? Don’t just leave me up here, Y/N.” You froze and looked at him. He was in the same position, with his eyes closed, breathing heavily. And yes, you had heard him right. Because he had said it damn loud. Holy shit, that made you feel some sort of way. But Zoro was so drunk at this point there’s no way he could have any control over his words. The lights were on but no one was home. He mumbled your name one more time.
“Zoro, I’ll be right back, I’m grabbing you a blanket and a pillow,” you quipped back, and he murmured something nonsensical while you started the quick descent to the deck.
It took you less than a minute to get him a blanket, a pillow, a glass of water, and a bucket, in case he threw up. You grabbed yourself a pillow and blanket, too. You couldn’t conscience letting him sleep up there by himself when he was so drunk. It took you a couple trips, but you managed to bring everything up to the crow’s nest. Zoro looked like he was proper passed out, so you spread the blanket over him and knelt by his head. Again, you shook his shoulder softly. “Zoro, lift your head up. I brought you a pillow.” He complied. He looked so sweet and soft. You wished you could kiss his cheeks a hundred times and run your fingers through his hair so badly.
You dragged your own blanket and pillow to the other side of the nook, giving him as much space as you could. Moments after you curled up and shut your eyes, Zoro stirred again, letting off another string of vaguely suggestive entreaties. “Y/N,” he murmured, “why’re you… all the way over there… you don’t wanna… w-wwanna sleep with me???”
This poor dude isn’t going to remember a thing tomorrow, you thought. In this moment you pitied him. You were sure he just wanted you to come cuddle with him, which was really sweet and all, but he was way too drunk right now to be touched with a ten-foot pole. And you already knew that if he remembered any of this tomorrow, he’d be too embarrassed to look you in the eye.
“Zoro, go to bed, sweetie, it’s getting late.” He did some more grumbling and nonsensical whining in response but soon he was out like a light, and you followed suit quickly.
---
Sure enough, Zoro woke up at sunrise feeling like absolute shit. He was hungover. Monstrously hungover. He couldn’t remember most of the tail end of last night and that made him uneasy, embarrassed at the thought that he could have said something out of pocket to you. He didn’t even want to think about the possibility of drunkenly confessing his feelings. As he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and tried to work the stiffness out of his neck, he realized that you were sleeping peacefully across from him. You must have brought out the pillows and blankets, the bucket and glass of water (which he promptly chugged). His heart twisted a bit when he realized how thoughtful and caring you had been towards him. Fuck.
You were breathing quietly, sleeping on your side facing him. Your hair was messed up, all flopped to one side, your face was soft and sweet. He just watched you sleep for a few minutes, realizing that he was being creepy as fuck but thinking he would not have the opportunity to sit and stare at you like this for a long time. He was taken with you. Anything that you felt even remotely insecure about, Zoro loved about you. On top of that, he thought you were ethereally beautiful; he would muse over how soft your skin must be, how good your hair must smell, how he hoped he’d be able to see the color of your eyes closer, how beautifully your lips turned up into a smile whenever you would see him. He wasn’t merely infatuated with your beauty—it was more than that. He admired you as a person, he thought you were brilliant, smart, and kind.
Fuck. He berated himself. You fucking idiot, what did you say to her?
He remembered asking you when you lost your virginity—or, er… did he ask you how you lost it? It was hazy. He certainly remembered throwing back the glasses of sake like they were water.
He blushed crimson immediately upon remembering that he made some comment like “lucky guy” or “lucky dude” while referring to the first man you had sex with. Fuck, that was embarrassing. And he had a feeling that he took it one step further than that, maybe he said or did something else… he wasn’t sure at that point. He hoped he hadn’t done anything that made you feel uncomfortable or unsafe.
Zoro rarely ever drank this much—he must have been feeling extra bothered and upset by Sanji’s comment about his virginity. Zoro knew that drinking was a horrible, horrible way of coping with his feelings. But sometimes he felt like he just wanted to self-sabotage or self-indulge in feeling like shit. And alcohol certainly made him feel like shit. But he had never drank this much when you were around.
Zoro wasn’t so sure how Drunk Zoro would handle your presence. He had a sinking feeling that he probably made himself look like an ass. Maybe he got way too loud, maybe he overstepped with his questions, maybe he came off as some huge, perverted creep trying to get a better picture about what it would be like to fuck you. He felt many, many pangs of regret and repulsion at himself. He was being hard on himself.
And while it definitely would have embarrassed him, and he would have felt more ashamed than he already did by knowing everything he said, he would have been surprised to know that the version of Drunk Zoro with only you around wanted nothing more than to be close with you—evidenced by the scooting closer, touching your thigh, staring deeply into your eyes, entreaties to sleep with (or was that by?) him. But he had no way of knowing what he did yet, because you were asleep, and he was prideful.
All this angsty reflection and regret was quickly interrupted by the hangover. He needed to do something about that. It was becoming a problem fast. He refused to make any sort of use out of that bucket while you were around. So, he swiped up the bucket, his empty glass, his pillow and blanket, and shuffled down the ladder steps.
---
When he was feeling less disgusting and had chugged a few more glasses of water, Zoro wondered what to do with himself. He would normally be up in the crow’s nest around this time of morning. And it didn’t escape him that you were going to be extremely hungover as well, especially because you had been matching his drinks for the most part (he could remember that) and you had way less of a tolerance than him.
He decided that he ought to bring up some water to you and hang out up there until you woke up. Maybe he’d be able to gauge how massively he fucked up by your expression or demeanor. Only one way to find out. Also, he’d take any opportunity and use any excuse to spend some peace and quiet with you. It was a treat that he rarely got.
He filled a big glass of water for you, and something struck him—what if he brought you up some fruit for breakfast? Would that be weird? He knew that you usually had fruit for breakfast, so… why not? He couldn’t think about it too much or else he’d clam up and get too shy. Fuck it, he told himself. Fruit it is. What’s an added benefit was that no one else was awake to tease him about bringing you breakfast or spending the night with you. So he took a couple of extra minutes to wash up and chop some fruit for you. He plated it as neatly as he could and grabbed a napkin as well. It was a simple but wholesome, caring gesture.
By the time Zoro was making his way back up to the crow’s nest, you had been awake for a minute or two. You were stretching as he climbed into the nook and your eyes met his with a sweet smile. “Good morning,” you chirped, feeling like shit from the hangover, but also tickled that you got to spend just a little bit more time with Zoro. You thought there was absolutely no way he remembered any of the advances or suggestive remarks from last night, and you wouldn’t hold any of it against him or treat him any differently for it. You were just happy to be hanging out with him, and the morning was beautiful. You felt no pressure or even desire to let him know everything that he said last night in the pits of drunken belligerence, and you didn’t plan on sharing unless he prompted.
“Hey,” he greeted you and placed the plate of fruit and glass of water next to you. “Here’s some breakfast. Figured it may get me even with you, since you took care of me last night. Sorry if I was an ass.”
Zoro was doing something as sweet as bringing you breakfast? You knew he had it in him. You always thought that there was some softness and sweetness to him, under those tough layers. Gosh, this was really nice of him.
“Thanks for bringing me fruit!” You responded. “You didn’t make an ass out of yourself, you were actually being really sweet,” you smiled again, and his heart skipped a beat. It felt like it twisted a little bit. Fuck, he had such a crush on you. He felt cringey and awkward when you were around sometimes, hyperaware of his every move, wondering how you felt about him. It was so easy for him to blush when you were around, too. He hoped every time that you couldn’t see it. He knew now that he must have been turning various shades of pink and red because he felt the hot blood rise to his face… and this time you did notice. His cheeks took on a pinkish flush, a shade that fitted him so well. God, he’s so cute, you thought to yourself. He was blushing so hard because you called him sweet.
“Oh, uh.. Sweet? What do you mean?” He acknowledged what you said out loud, putting out a sort of rhetorical question. How had he been sweet? Were you referring to the intrusive questions about your virginity, or did he do something else? What on earth could that mean?
You felt like teasing him a little bit with your answer—nothing too serious, since he seemed a little worried about it. “Yeah, you were sweet… you did call me baby a couple of times. It wasn’t too bad.”
Zoro turned crimson. He started to stutter out an apology— “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I-”
“Zoro,” you cut him off. “It’s fine, don’t worry. I know you didn’t mean anything by it. You were super drunk.” He attempted to stutter out another apology and you waved your hand. “Don’t worry, seriously, it wasn’t creepy or anything, it was cute.”
Neither of you thought Zoro could blush any harder, but he did. Cute? He was getting so flustered. He took a beat before hoarsely choking out a response. He expected that he had been a bit weird but… calling you baby? Get a grip, man! He scolded himself. But if that was all… it could have been a lot worse.
“Aghhh… Did I do anything else humiliating?” He asked, shaking his head and covering his eyes with his hand, visibly cringing. He didn’t even think to ask what context he called you baby in. It didn’t matter. He had called you baby, and that was that.
“I wouldn’t say it was humiliating but when you were falling asleep you kind of like… asked me to get in bed with you? It wasn’t creepy though, I think you were chilly.”
Zoro’s jaw dropped. Oh my fucking god. Get in bed with her?! What the fuck? He reprimanded himself internally. This was so much worse than he could have imagined. “Look, I’m so, so sorry I… I don’t know what got into me. I’m sorry, I-”
“Zoro, don’t worry about it, seriously. It was endearing and I didn’t take it any sort of negative way.” You took note of how absolutely vivid red his cheeks were. His fists were clenched. Poor guy was obviously going through it.
Zoro was turning the words over in his mind again and again—sweet, cute, endearing. He had never received any of this sort of praise from you before and it made his stomach flip.
Suddenly a shrill voice cut through the air. “Y/N, MY DEAREST SWEET~~ WOULD YOU LIKE SOME COFFEE MY DARLING?” Sanji shouted up to you in the crow’s nest.
You smiled and rolled your eyes at Zoro, sort of mocking Sanji. “Let’s do this again soon, Zoro… silliness aside… I had a really nice time. You really were being sweet so don’t worry about it. I’m going to get some coffee and take a shower. Thanks for the fruit!” You gathered your fruit and glass and shouted back down at Sanji. “Coming!” You did one last pretty smile and wave and then descended below.
Zoro was still reeling from the revelations of his drunken antics. He could have jumped overboard right about now, had it not been for your repeated description of him as “sweet” and “cute.” Your words rang in his ears—“Let’s do this again soon, Zoro.”
So he had called you baby and tried to get you to sleep with him, but it had been sweet and cute? It didn’t really make sense to Zoro but something inside of him fluttered a little bit. You weren’t totally averse and disgusted towards him after last night, so… that was good, right?
Zoro was absolutely mind-fucked at the whole interaction. He was kicking himself in embarrassment, flustered, bright red, his heart was beating out of his chest, but he was also ecstatic because you said you wanted to spend more time with him again. He was completely ashamed but buzzing at the same time. He hadn’t felt like this in years and years, in fact, he wasn’t sure if he had ever been this worked up about a crush before.
Upon second thought, he realized that he did have a shadow of a memory of him calling you baby, along with a suggestion in his mind of the moment when he groaned your name and begged you to come to bed with him. He had wanted you to curl up next to him and sleep there, to be close with him, to feel your warmth, your skin, your heartbeat. He couldn’t believe that all of this started because Sanji’s asshole remark yesterday about his virginity. And there was that virginity and you, two things that were currently posing a problem for him. He could only let himself fantasize slightly about fucking you, but… he didn’t let himself get too carried away (yet).
Stay tuned for part two: Zoro is yet again sexually frustrated, and you decide to help him solve his problem (smut, smut, smut)!
Update: Here's part two!
And here's my masterlist...
♡^▽^♡ (◕ㅅ◕✿) ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧˚
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING! - Z
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On David Tennant and Aging
So, I’ve seen a lot of posts in response to Tumblr users’ habit of affectionately calling their favorite middle aged dudes “old men”, David Tennant in particular, saying things like “clearly you’ve never met an actual old person”, “omg you talk about these guys like they’re 80”, “please be normal about people aging”, etc. And on one hand, all of these statements are objectively right and true! But as someone who’s always been really fascinated by and found a lot of beauty in getting older (which I’ve explored in some of my writing on A03 because nobody else is going to do it for me), I’d like to provide a bit more nuance on how I think this label applies to David in particular.
David, obviously, in literal terms, is not “old”, at least not to me- I don’t personally consider people old until they get past 60. 52 is middle aged, simple as that. And yet, when I see David stuck with the “old man” label, it still somehow feels weirdly right, for a number of reasons.
It annoys me so much when people say David “hasn’t aged a day since Doctor Who”, because, well…
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He clearly has. A lot. He’s got forehead creases, deep crows’ feet and eyebags, and I think that post-Fourteen we’re gonna see him rocking the grey temples a LOT more. He also has the voice of an older man now, his upper range is still there but the default is much more deep and rich, with a gravelly, rumbling quality that just goes straight through you. I personally think Broadchurch was when David finally started to embrace looking his age- Alec Hardy just wouldn’t have been served by Ten’s fresh-faced boyishness.
Obviously, these are the kinds of changes you’d expect any 52-year-old man to have, but something about David just makes it all seem a bit more… intense? The expressiveness of his face combined with his almost gaunt frame makes his wrinkles very prominent, and when he works his voice to its emotional extremes, his lower register can sound positively ancient, to devastating effect.
David, I think, is someone with an old soul- I don’t think he could be as good as he is at playing ancient characters like Crowley and The Doctor if he weren’t. He has lived so many lives, given so much of himself to so many characters, often incredibly tragic ones, and I think it wears on him. David also has five kids. FIVE. Do you know how exhausting it is to be one of the hardest working actors alive and be a present, loving father to even ONE child? But David somehow does it anyway! Nowadays I see him and my heart breaks because he looks so tired, so weary and fragile. But he’s all the more beautiful for it to me because I know that that is because he is kind. He’s a deeply empathetic person who feels and lives to the absolute fullest, and that story is written so clearly on his face, along with every other story he has ever been a part of.
There’s other things about David that make the label endearingly fitting- his utter hopelessness when it comes to technology, for instance. And he’s just got that warm, wise, grandpa energy too sometimes- look at that above Fourteen picture and tell me I’m wrong!
I once showed my friend who’d only seen David in Doctor Who and Harry Potter a picture of David from Around The World in 80 Days. It was a particularly emotional scene, and his face had just the most beautiful expression of compassion and sadness, every wrinkle on full display. And she said, in a less than complimentary fashion, “he looks so old!” Which, of course, offended me quite a bit at first. But to me, referring to David as old almost feels like a badge of honor, something he’s earned by living fully and selflessly, working hard and being wise and compassionate beyond his years. I think David himself is secretly more than a little insecure about the fact that he’s getting older. There’s sadness behind every jovially self-depreciating remark he’s made about his age in the past year, particularly in comparing himself to Ncuti Gatwa. I know how much David struggles with his impostor syndrome and how people perceive him, and I can clearly see in his eyes the fear of being discarded, the anxiety he feels about if he’ll still be as loved as he was back in 2007 now that he’s closer in age to King Lear than he is to Romeo. So I hope David knows it’s a privilege to watch him grow older, to watch his soul and talents deepen with the crinkles around his eyes. If I, in my silly goofy tumblr girl-ness, call David Tennant an old man, it’s because it’s a label that suits him beautifully- even if it isn’t TECHNICALLY an accurate one yet.
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blue-sadie · 10 months
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Blinded By Feelings
Armitage Hux, Cal Kestis, Poe Dameron, Din Djarin, Anakin Skywalker
They have feelings for you their enemy
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Armitage Hux
He hated you even through he's never met you, he loathed your very being and it only increased when he met you, you were another general that to fought to be the best.
And when you two were together in a meeting or just in passing in the corridors you two would bicker like children over plans or random things that was annoying one of you that day.
He would only realize his feelings when a storm trooper would ask him but he would tell them to shut up and threaten them saying he would throw him into space if he ever spoke something so ridiculous again, but it would cloud his mind days after that.
He would feel disgusted by himself and avoid you by all cost but his efforts went to waste when you come back injured from a mission and he would make it his personal mission to take you to the med bay and scold you at the same time.
"You are stupid as the rebellion if you think you would not get scolded for your actions you could've gotten yourself killed next time at least tell me first so I can get you better storm troopers"
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Cal Kestis
You joined the crew way before he did and had a stronger bond with greez and cere he was kinda jealous it wasn't much of a hatred thing he just found you kinda annoying to be around and would avoid being with you.
Every time you tried talking to him he would ignore you or when you saved him countless times he would just give you a forced thank you but nothing more.
The thing that made him notice is that you would start showing up in his dreams more or when he meditates, he'd find it annoying at first but he'd start thinking about you more and more.
He'd start listening and paying more attention to you which not only freaked you out but the other crew members to, during one of the missions he'd actually listen to your ideas instead of shutting you up.
"You have some really good ideas I should've started listening to you sooner, I'm sorry about that by the way I guess I was just jealous of you"
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Poe Dameron
You were the rebellions best mechanic and the person that would work on his x-wing without his consent he'd hate it even though it needed to be done, he hates it more when you'd leave sticky notes telling him about the up grades you've done to his ship.
He would complain to Leia about you but she'd just laugh and tell him off because your just doing your job so then he'd come complain directly to you but you'd just ignore him continuing on his next up grade.
He'd have a few people tell him that he probably has a crush on you because of him talking about you so much but what really makes him realize is when he sees you talking to others guys and the jealousy he feels.
When returning from one of his missions his x-wing battered and needing repairs he'd actually come straight to you to ask you to repair it for him.
"I know I found it annoying but I've come to realize your up grades are kinda.... helpful after saving me a few times so what I'm trying to say is I'd like you to continue working on my ship"
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Din Djarin
Your were an assassin, killing off the high end people most bounty hunters were afraid to kill, you've also killed a few of his bountys making him pissed.
He's only ever layed eyes on you a few times in crowed bars or a desolate street he doesn't really care about knowing you because why would he get to know his enemy a thief.
He'd only start looking out for you more when you saved him from an ambush you shot his captures in the head and threw him a gun before disappearing again.
He'd be against the idea of ever actually falling for you because of his past experiences but after some more encounters with you he'd would stop you before you vanish again.
"You can reject this offer but I'm still putting it out there, I want you to join me us, it would be alot easier we work together then you stealing my bountys so what do you say"
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Anakin Skywalker
You are master windus padowan and the person he's always compared to why can't you be like yn why can't you take after her, it was something he heard almost everyday which makes him hate you.
He hates how kind you are even through his hateful words he spits your way or when you'd sometimes take the fall for one of his stupid plans he never even thanks you.
He like hux only got the realization when you got hurt, you'd taken a hit that was ment for him, the panic he felt as he watched you fall made him snap and kill whoever did it.
He'd spend day and night by your bedside in the medbay pacing back and forth as he tried thinking about his feelings, they'd only calm down when he sees you awake.
"Don't do that ever again do you hear me, you don't deserve to be here especially because of me I should be in this bed instead of you, do you know what you put me through I thought I lost you"
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daisynik7 · 1 year
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Strawberry Soju
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🎶 I don’t need another shot of you, but I got to, my strawberry soju 🎶
Pairing: Eren x f!reader
Rating: Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Genre: college au, enemies-to-lovers
Word Count: ~7.0k
cw: asshole!Eren, fratboy!Eren, subby!Eren, blowjob, cunnilingus, face riding, multiple orgasms, cowgirl, unprotected sex, alcohol, language.
Summary: Two weeks before graduation, you are finally done with your senior project. This calls for a celebration with your team, including the person who annoys you the most: Eren Jaeger. The two of you learn to put your differences aside for one night, starting with a bottle of strawberry soju. 
Notes: All characters are seniors in college (21-22 years old), engineering majors. Eren is a frat boy, so some details from my series Rush will be used, but no correlation to that story. Inspired by the song “Strawberry Soju”, which I’ve been obsessed with for the past two weeks. I had a lot of fun with this, so I hope you enjoy! Reblogs, likes, and/or comments are ALWAYS appreciated, thank you so much! 
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“And now, we are proud to present the winner of this year’s Senior Project Showcase: Team Titan! For their omni-directional mobility gear, designed for construction workers in the field to ensure safety whilst elevated hundreds of feet in the air! Bravo, Team Titan! Bravo!”
Professor Pyxis’s announcement leaves you and your group flabbergasted. Sasha and Connie both have their jaws dropped. Eren, who sits beside you, throws his fist in the air, exclaiming, “Oh hell yeah!” You stay in your seat, in total shock.
Pyxis stares fondly at the four of you, beckoning you towards the stage in the main engineering lecture hall. “Don’t be shy, my young engineers, come here to accept your award!” Hesitantly, you all make your way behind the podium, a polite round of applause from the other students and faculty echoing throughout the room. 
Nearly an entire semester of work has led to this. Five months of grueling research, scrambling to acquire the right materials, complicated design issues that made you want to scream. Not to mention five months spent collaborating with the bane of your existence: Eren Jaeger. The award for first place barely makes up for a semester’s worth of torture; nonetheless, it’s still a pretty trophy.
It was fate that brought the four of you together back in January, the same fate that has spited you for whatever reason, forcing you to work alongside Eren, the most obnoxious, cocky, annoying person you have ever met in your short twenty-two years of living. While you had no issues with Connie or Sasha, you and Eren did not mesh. It’s been apparent since the beginning of the semester when you were chosen to be the team leader. He scoffed, claimed that he “would be a better choice, but whatever.” Your relationship with him was doomed from that day on. 
What’s odd is that he isn’t an asshole to the entire group; his less than pleasant behavior seems to be reserved for you, and only you. He gets on perfectly fine with Sasha and Connie, who have basically played mediator for you two, keeping as much of the peace as possible whenever an argument ensues. He usually instigates it, always making an unnecessary comment to get under your skin. At this point, you’re convinced he’s doing it on purpose just to get a rise out of you, because how can one human be this irritating?! 
Despite all the petty drama, you have to admit that he’s smart. Not only that, but he also works hard and gets shit done, no matter how much grief he gives you about it. And, if you squint hard enough, he maybe is, almost, sort of…hot. Strictly speaking from an objective standpoint, that is. Based on media-driven beauty standards and common qualities that are considered conventionally attractive by society. Of course, you will never, ever admit this aloud, especially not to him. You’re convinced that if he ever finds out, his massive head will explode, already overinflated from his gigantic ego. 
Your team crowds Pyxis, who happily hands you the trophy first. Eren, no surprise, snatches it from your clutches to hold it himself, kissing it and lifting it above him like he won a major league championship. You resist the urge to roll your eyes, trying to maintain professionalism in front of the watching staff. 
“Will your team leader give a few words about the project?” Pyxis asks, gaze on you, motioning to the stand. 
You tense up, usually nervous about public speaking. Clearing your throat, you lean into the mic. “Uh, thank you Professor Pyxis and the rest of the faculty for selecting our project. This has been a labor of love for the past five months and we are honored to have it recognized. We hope that this prototype and any of the research associated with it will help improve labor conditions for those working in construction, risking their lives every day.” 
You glance at Connie and Sasha to see if they’d like to add anything else. Connie adds, “Special shoutout to grad students Levi Ackerman, Erwin Smith, and Hange Zoe for helping us out a ton with our project, from offering advice to testing it out. We love you!” 
“And thank you Paradise Pizzeria and Café Utopia for fueling many late nighters throughout this whole semester! You rock!” Sasha exclaims, resulting in laughter from the audience. 
Eren grabs the mic from the stand, yelling, “This is dedicated to my fraternity brothers, for providing moral support during these trying times! Alpha Tau for life!” He holds the trophy in one hand, using the other to salute an inverted fist at his chest, sticking his tongue out.  
This time, you don’t contain your eye roll as the crowd laughs even louder, clearly amused by it. He passes the microphone back to Pyxis. “Fantastic! I love the enthusiasm of this team. Let’s give them all another big round of applause!”
After the presentation is over, Pyxis instructs, “They’d like to take your picture next to the ODM gear. The photographers are taking some shots of the other projects, so feel free to take your time heading to the Rose Center.” 
On the walk, Eren passes the trophy to Sasha. “What to hold it, Sash?”
“Sure! Still can’t believe we won!”
Connie puts his arm around her, staring at the prize. “I know it doesn’t really mean anything, but damn, is it nice to look at.”
Eren catches up to you, nudging you in the arm. “Would it have killed you to smile during your little speech?”
You shove your elbow into his ribs, a little harder than necessary. “I was smiling.” 
“You call that a smile? You looked like you were in a hostage situation. Like, blink three times if they’re hurting you type of deal,” he teases, that cocky smirk plastered on his face. 
“Like you were any better!” You stick your tongue out, mocking him. “Alpha Tau for life, bros!”
“I really meant it. I needed all the fucking help I could get, dealing with you this whole semester. If it weren’t for them, I would have gone fucking crazy because of you.”
“Oh right, because I’m the one driving you crazy, sure,” you respond, sarcastically.
“Hey, at least you’re admitting it! You’re finally making progress!” He claps in front of your face.
You shove him, glaring. “You are such a jerk.”
“Don’t be so sensitive, baby.”
“Oh, I am not your baby.”
Sasha jumps in between, yelling, “Enough! Both of you, stop it!!”
Connie joins in. “Yeah, we won today. Stop ruining the mood.”
Without you realizing it, the four of you have made it to the Rose Center, which is luckily vacant in the midst of your little spat with Eren. This is how your arguments usually go, all because of something petty that never leads anywhere. When the photographer arrives, they direct you to stand beside your project, already displayed in one of the glass windows. They take a couple of shots, then it’s over. Just like that, your senior project is officially done. There’s a huge weight lifted off your shoulders. All that’s left to do is to graduate. 
The sun is setting by the time the photoshoot is finished. The four of you exit the building, Sasha immediately announcing, “I’m hungry! Let’s get dinner one last time as a team!”
“I’m down for that. Any ideas where to go?” 
“Paradise Pizza?”
“No, we’ve had that way too many times this year. Let’s go somewhere special tonight.”
“There’s that all-you-can-eat Korean barbecue place downtown,” you suggest. “It’s only fifteen minutes away if we take the train.”
“Ooohh, I like the sound of that!”
“I’m down. Eren?”
He shrugs, hands in his pockets. That too-cool-to-care attitude apparent in his body language. “If that’s what everyone else wants, then I guess it’s fine.” If it had been either Sasha or Connie to suggest it, you know for a fact that he would have a more positive response. Because it’s you, he has to act like he’s being forced into it, reluctant to concede with absolutely everything you propose. 
You go your separate ways to change out of professional attire and into more comfortable clothes, agreeing to meet outside Eren’s in an hour. His apartment is closest to the train station, making it the most convenient. By 7:00PM, you’re inside the restaurant, seated at a table, grill fired up as you browse through the menu. Sasha, the ultimate foodie of the group, orders the first round of meats. You pick the drinks. 
“Two bottles of strawberry soju, please!” you tell the waiter. 
“Oh, I love soju!” Sasha squeals. 
You smile at her. “Me too. This flavor’s my favorite.”
Eren, who is somehow seated next to you, grunts. “Strawberry? Of course you’d pick some girly shit like that.”
“Hey man, don’t knock it till you try it,” Connie says. “This shit gets you fucked up fast. Trust me. I’ve gotten soju drunk before, and it’s awesome.”
He rolls his eyes in response. “Yeah, that’s because of all the extra fucking sugar, I bet. Sounds gross.”
The waiter arrives with the alcohol and four glasses, along with waters to share. You do the honors and pour everyone, except Eren, a shot. “I’m guessing you don’t want any of this gross soju, then?”
He snatches the shot glass, thrusting it towards you. “I didn’t say that. Just pour me some.” 
With glasses filled to the brim, you all cheers, then throw it back. The familiar flavor is refreshing and sweet on your tongue, smooth down your throat. 
“Shit, that’s good!” Connie raves.
“Strawberry might be my new favorite flavor! It’s so yummy!”
You face Eren, grinning. “Well?”
He shrugs, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “It’s alright.”
“Don’t lie to me. You like it, don’t you?” you tease, nudging him in the arm.
“I said it’s fine, okay?”
You stop pestering him, satisfied knowing that maybe you were finally right about something when it comes to him.
Soon, a plethora of tasty side dishes are scattered on the table. Rice, kimchi, fresh lettuce, potato salad, two helpings of steamed eggs to share. Three heaping plates of meat follow. Sasha begins barbequing, laying out portions of beef bulgogi on the hot grill as the rest of you watch hungrily, the steam and aroma surrounding you like a cozy embrace. Once it’s cooked, you help yourselves, stuffing your faces with perfectly grilled meat and whatever else you desire. Several bites in, you all decide to do another round of shots, first bottle almost finished.
“Good idea to do KBBQ tonight!” Sasha mentions. “I haven’t had it in a while. I forgot how much I love it.”
Connie chimes in, “Same! Which side dish is everyone’s favorite?”
Sasha immediately points to the potato salad. “Is there any doubt that mine would be this?”
“Of course we all know that potato girl. I like kimchi. What’s yours?”
You pick out your favorite. “This one, for sure.”
Eren makes an unapproving noise. “Of course you’d pick that. So basic.”
To keep the peace, especially on this night of celebration, you ignore the temptation to reply with an equally sassy comment. Instead, you ask, “Well, what’s your favorite, Eren?” 
“The steamed egg. It’s delicious and packs an extra serving of protein.” He flexes his bicep with a smug expression. “Not that I really need it.”
Connie and Sasha laugh, while you take a deep breath, using every ounce of willpower to keep your cool. You crack open the bottle, downing the remaining alcohol to help you get through the rest of the night.
“What’s everyone’s plans after graduation?” Connie asks.
Sasha answers first. “I’ll be working with my dad for our family business.”
“I’m sure Artur will appreciate all the new, high-tech engineering skills you have! If I’m still unemployed in two months, can you please hire me?”
“Of course!”
“What about you, Eren?”
“I got an offer in Marley,” he reveals. “It’s a pretty good gig, but I don’t know about moving overseas. I got another in Stohess to work for their weapons warehouse, so maybe I’ll accept that instead.”
“I’ve never been overseas,” you comment. “Sounds interesting if you do decide to go.” 
“Well, you’re wrong. It doesn’t sound interesting at all.”
Even your attempt at being polite is met with malice. “You always argue with me for the sake of arguing.”
He turns to face you, brows furrowed. “No I don’t!”
“You’re literally doing it right now! I was just trying to be nice.”
“Well, try harder,” he grumbles, picking meat off the grill.
“My god, you two are exhausting!” Sasha intervenes. 
Connie nods. “Seriously, don’t you get tired of fighting all the time?”
“Honestly, you two should do it and get it over with.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Eren leers at Sasha through the smoke. 
“I’m saying get all your anger out by fucking each other. Hate sex is the best medicine for situations like this,” she explains, matter of fact.
“No fucking way,” Eren says. “It’s not like that.”
“Definitely not,” you reiterate, cheeks warm. You pour yourself another shot, already on the second bottle, not offering a serving to anyone else. Desperate for liquor with the direction this conversation is going.
“Wow, you two actually agree on something for once!” Connie teases. “See? Isn’t this nice?”
The duo giggle together, finding enjoyment from your current state of misery. Eren clears his throat, muttering something unintelligible. He reaches for the soju in front of you, avoiding your gaze as he tips it into his empty shot glass, instantly downing it. Before the silence gets awkward, you change the subject, mentioning some idle gossip you heard around the engineering department, to which Connie and Sasha have plenty to contribute to. 
An hour later, the four of you manage to finish most of the food, only a few pieces of charred meat left over. Sasha and Connie rub their stomachs, satisfied by the feast. You and Eren end up finishing the last bottle between the two of you. Since the comment from earlier, neither of you have spoken directly, avoiding each other. 
Connie slumps into the chair, patting his belly. “Let’s play a game while we digest! Truth or eat. If you don’t answer, you have to eat these burnt pieces of bulgogi.”
Eren laughs. “That sounds fun. I’m down.” He looks to you, brow raised, challenging. “You in, princess?”
You bite your cheek, holding in the clever retort at his annoying nickname for you, also relieved he’s back to normal. “Sure, why not?”
“I’ll go first,” Sasha volunteers, sitting up in her seat. “Eren, who’s the freakiest brother in Alpha Tau?” 
Without hesitating, he states, “Armin, for sure.”
“Armin?! Really?”
“Yup. He’s one kinky motherfucker,” he grins. He turns to face you. “Why do you hate me so much?”
“You want the whole essay, or an abridged version?” you reply, smirking as you sip on your water.
Sasha giggles while Connie mutters under his breath, “Oh boy.”
Eren doesn’t let up. “Give me one reason.”
Contemplating which of the many grievances you should expose about him, you finally decide on one. “You always disagree with me, no matter what. Whether it’s something about the project, or something as simple as a side dish preference.”
“We already know that, though. What else?”
“Hey, you wanted one reason, and I gave it to you.” You think for a few seconds, adding, “And to be fair, hate is a strong word. I don’t hate you.”
It’s true. While he annoys you beyond your wit’s end, you don’t hate him. He’s a quarter of the reason you all achieved what you did. You focus back on the table, avoiding Eren’s expression. “Connie, have you two ever hooked up?” you question, pointing at the duo.
“Gross! No!”
“Absolutely not. We’re practically twins. That’d be illegal.”
“Yup. We’re basically two halves of a whole idiot.” 
You laugh with them, taking another sip of water as Connie poses a question to Eren. “Why do you give her such a hard time?” he asks, referring to you. 
“Here we go,” you mumble, ready for an onslaught of ridiculous reasons.
It’s silent for a few moments, then he takes his chopsticks, grabbing at the charred meat on the grill, placing it into his mouth to eat quietly.
“What?!” Sasha yells. “You’re not going to tell us?” 
Connie smirks. “Must be pretty bad, then.”
You watch him slowly chew the burnt food, a small smile on his face. As if there’s a secret he’s keeping from everybody else at the table. Why would he refuse to answer the question that he basically asked you? Is his hatred for you that intense that he chooses not to say it, to save you from humiliation? What could you have possibly done to him to warrant this kind of treatment? Maybe it’s the liquor leading you to jump to conclusions, to be slightly offended by his choice. Maybe even a little hurt. 
When he’s done, he chugs his whole water. “Alright, my turn again.”
“Wait, really?”
“We’re just going to pretend that didn’t happen?”
“Yup,” he responds, nonchalant. 
“Why?”
“Hey, I ate that shit, right? Let it go,” he states, more aggressively this time.
You remain silent, mind racing with all types of ideas. You pay no more attention to the game, contemplating all the possible reasons Eren Jaeger would hate you so much. To be fair, he’s the one who starts it first. All you do is defend yourself. Why would he have any bigger reason to dislike you more than you dislike him?
Connie yells out your name, breaking you out of your reverie. “Hey, are you in?”
“Huh?”
“Karaoke! There’s a bar down the street.”
After paying the check, split evenly, the four of you head to the karaoke bar, booking a private room for an hour. You all sing your hearts out while sobering up from whatever buzz you developed from the soju. Any strange concerns you had about Eren evaporate. The two of you even seem to get along, performing a few duets together.
On the train ride back near campus, the four of you share more laughs, enjoying possibly the last time you’ll be together. With everyone graduating and off to their own paths, it’s hard to tell when, or if, you’ll ever see each other again.  
From the station, you start you trek home, pausing outside Eren’s apartment to chat a bit more, until Sasha says, “I guess this is goodbye!”
“Yeah, thanks for all your hard work. This was really fun,” Connie adds, smiling. 
“We should all try to keep in touch.”
Eren hugs Connie, then Sasha. The two of you look at each other, contemplating if you should embrace also. Suddenly, you blurt out, “Actually, can I use your bathroom? I have to pee.”
You really do have to pee, but surely, you could have made it the extra ten minutes to your own apartment to do so, right? For some reason, your mind convinces you to stay with him just a little longer. There’s a pending task you have to complete before you part ways for good. You hope for closure, to end things on a good note. 
You, Connie, and Sasha exchange hugs, leaving with a final wave, disappearing into the distance. Despite the pleasant warmth of the summer night, there’s a noticeable chill in the air. Not from the weather, rather, from the growing tension surrounding you and Eren. His voice is quiet when he says, “Alright, I guess we can head in now.”
You nod, following him through the entrance. At the elevator, he swipes a keycard, pushing the button to go up to the third floor. The doors open and you step in, still not speaking a word. Arriving at his door, he unlocks it, holding it for you. 
“Bathroom is down to the right,” he points, removing his shoes at the entrance.
You copy him, sliding out of your sneakers. “Okay cool. Thank you.” 
Once you find the bathroom, you swiftly close the door, fully aware that you are inside Eren Jaeger’s apartment. Naturally, curiosity gets the best of you. With a quick glance around the room, you can tell he’s tidy. Towels hung properly, actual floor mats on the tiles, toilet seat down. Is he anticipating a visit from a friend? Maybe a lover? You can’t help letting your imagination run wild. 
Finished with your business, you walk out of the bathroom to find him sitting on the couch, television playing a show you’re familiar with. “Have you seen this episode yet? The new season just started,” you mention, stepping towards him.
He stands up, turning to face you. “I haven’t. Was planning to watch it tonight.”
“Cool,” is all you manage to utter. 
There’s another moment of awkward silence until he asks, “You want to watch it with me?”
Without thinking, you agree.
The two of you sit on opposite ends of the couch, watching in silence. About halfway through, with a soft chuckle, he admits, “That strawberry soju wasn’t bad. Actually, it was pretty good.”
This catches you off guard. You look at him, grinning. “Wow. It took you this long to finally come clean about it.”
“Better late than never, right?” He keeps his eyes forward, smirking. 
You adjust, completely facing him. “Since you’re being honest about that, can you tell me why you didn’t answer Connie’s question?”
He plays dumb. “What question?”
“Why do you give me such a hard time?”
He clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “You’re still thinking about that?”
“Yeah, I am,” you confess. “Seems a little odd to me that wouldn’t just say it.”
Finally, he matches you, repositioning himself to set his gaze on yours. “Why do you care so much?”
“I’m curious. Since we’ll be graduating soon, we’ll probably never see each other again. I figured we should put everything out there. Get some closure. Make amends.”
He scoffs. “I wasn’t aware there were any amends to make.”
You’re getting annoyed now, impatient with his round-about comments. “Seriously? You think our relationship is normal?”
“I don’t think we have a relationship at all.”
You stand up, regretting being here in the first place. He’s the same asshole he’s always been. What we’re you expecting? Why would he be any different tonight? 
“Fine. Forget it. What a waste of time. Good job on the project, and I hope you have a great life.” You stomp towards the exit, not bothering to look at him.
Suddenly, his hand shoots out, gripping you loosely around the wrist. “Wait. Don’t go.”
You glare at him, eyes narrowed in frustration, skin tingly from the physical contact. Waiting for him to elaborate.
“I’m sorry, okay?” he stammers. “I’m not…I can’t really…” he trails off, not finishing his sentences.
When he doesn’t proceed, you ask, “Why do you hate me so much?”
“I don’t hate you.”
“Then why do you treat me this way? Why me?”
He swallows hard, the truth difficult for him to spit out. “It’s dumb.” 
“I don’t care. Just tell me.”
He lets out a sigh, averting his gaze to the floor. “It’s because I like you, okay?” 
It takes a moment for you to process what he’s saying. Eventually, you stammer, “You like me?”
“Yeah, I like you,” he reiterates, still staring at his own feet. “You’re cute. You’re the smartest person I know. And you’re also a fucking pain in my ass. But I like you.”
That last part would normally have you on the verge of swinging; however, it’s almost endearing the way he says it. Your sudden change in heart has you questioning if you’re drunk from the liquor you consumed hours ago. “Why would you treat me like this if you like me?”
Another deep sigh as he explains, “I don’t know. Because I’m a fucking idiot and I’m immature. I told you, it’s dumb.”
“It’s not dumb. I just…I didn’t expect this.”
More silence falls between you two. You look down at his big hand still holding you, racing heartbeat reverberating through your chest. You’re not sure how to react. So, you go with your instinct. 
You kiss him.
~~~
Eren doesn’t know why he started it months ago at the beginning of the semester. If he’s being completely honest, he’s got the body of Greek god, the intelligence of a genius, and the maturity, or in this case, immaturity, of a fifth grader. That being said, whatever it is that he has going with her, he’s decided to classify it as a schoolboy crush. Like a kid on the playground picking on another kid, doing everything they can to garner all their attention, no matter how annoying it is. 
It began with snide remarks here and there, nothing ever too cruel to be considered bullying, but enough to make her bite back. He’s not sure why he kept it up so long, especially after realizing he actually likes her. In his mind, negative attention is better than no attention at all. He can’t be normal around her; being a nuisance is what he’s comfortable with.
Another reason is that he’s intimidated by her. She could see right through his cocky demeanor. Break him down into the vulnerable little shit he really is. The grief he caused her is some bizarre defense mechanism, a way to deny his true feelings for her. All to protect himself and his heart. 
He was supposed to go to a frat party tonight after hanging out with the team. Instead, he finds himself alone with her in his apartment, everything revealed, his confession hanging heavy in the air. 
Even more unexpected is her leaning forward to kiss him, lips soft and gentle against his. Hesitant and uncertain. Sweet and tangy from the lingering essence of the strawberry soju from earlier. Before he gets carried away, he pulls off, whispering, “Are you sure about this?”
“No,” she admits. “But I can’t deny that I’m curious.”
“We shouldn’t do this then. It doesn’t feel right.”
“Just…shut up and let me check something.”
He obeys, closing his eyes, waiting for her move. She kisses him again, more confidentially this time, hand sliding to his nape to pull him closer. 
“Fuck, are you sure this is okay?” he breathes out, slowly losing his composure.
She nods, smiling. “Yes.”
“You’re positive?”
“Yes.”
“Absolutely certain?”
“If you ask me one more time, you’re really going to piss me off,” she warns, grazing her mouth along his neck, sucking at the skin of his throat.
He nods erratically. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry. Fuck.”
She pushes him back towards the couch, falling into the cushions. He watches in awe as she strips her sweatpants, revealing pink lacey panties.  She sits in his lap, legs spread wide with him between, clothed pussy against his pulsating cock. His hands are to his sides, clenched to the cushion of the couch. With her lips brushing his ear, she whispers, “You can touch me if you want.”
His cock twitches, erection growing by the second as she straddles him. Carefully, he slides his palms around her waist, moaning a trembling, “Thank you.” Hands at her bottom, he squeezes her ass cheeks in a firm grasp, fingers slipping underneath the fabric, dangerously close to her arousal.
Without thinking, he blurts out, “Use me. Do what you want with me. You’re the leader.”
There’s a wicked smile on her face as soon as he says it. “Eren Jaeger is going to let me use him?”
All pride is thrown out the window. He doesn’t care anymore about giving into weakness. With graduation only two weeks away, and no promise of ever seeing each other again, he decides fuck it. He’s going to do whatever he can to fulfill this fantasy of his. And if that means submitting to her, begging and groveling at her feet, he’ll fucking do it. 
“Yeah,” he growls. “Use me as your fuck toy. I’ll do whatever you want. Just fucking use me.”
“Didn’t think Alpha Tau’s frat star would behave like this,” she murmurs, sucking on his ear lobe. 
“Does it turn you on?”
“Maybe.”
“Good. Fucking wreck me apart then. Don’t hold back,” he demands. There’s already precum leaking from his tip, soaking through the cotton of his briefs. “Consider it payback for this semester.”
She responds by grinding her hips on his lap. He’s desperate to feel her without fabric separating them, but he knows what he agreed to. He can’t do anything without her permission, without her initiating. She rides him for another minute, his palms on her ass, following her motions. His cock throbs beneath her, aching for release from the confines of his pants. There’s an audible whine developing in his throat, needy for anything.
On cue, she swings her leg over to kneel beside him, tugging at the waistband of his sweats and underwear. He lifts his hips as she slides them off simultaneously, freeing his stiff cock. He watches her marvel at his erection, noticing desire in her eyes. Before he knows it, she’s bent towards his lap, mouth hovering his dick, licking at the slit. 
“Fuck,” he moans. “Goddamn.”
She continues to tease him, leaving the shaft untouched, tongue swirling the tip, lapping at his precum. 
“Fuck, please. Touch me,” he begs, legs quivering from arousal. 
Without warning, she wraps her fist around him, surrounding the tip with her mouth, bobbing up and down in sync with her strokes. She starts slow, increasing the pace with each guttural moan that emits within his chest. The temptation to buck his hips into her warm, wet heat is tantalizing, but he reminds himself that she’s in control, which only turns him on more.
She uses her other hand to fondle his balls, causing him to swear loudly. “Fuck!”
He feels the vibration of her giggle through his cock, clearly enjoying the way she’s unravelling him, his orgasm approaching fast. “Can I please come?”
She shakes her head, still working his dick. 
“Fuck. I can’t…I can’t hold it.” 
She releases him from her mouth, stroking him, face close to his. “You think you deserve to come now?”
He nods eagerly. “Yes.”
“Apologize first.”
“Huh?”
“Apologize. Admit that you’re a fucking asshole.” She nibbles on his ear lobe, dragging it down between her lips, still jerking him off. 
“I’m sorry. I’m a,” he chokes on his spit before he can finish. “Fucking asshole.”
“Tell me your desperate for it. That you need it.” 
“Fuck, I’m so fucking desperate, I fucking need it. Please.”
“Good,” she whispers, pumping him faster. She kisses him on the lips, grip tight around him as his cock swells, hanging by a thread at the edge of his climax. “Go ahead. Come for me, Eren.”
At the sound of his name on her sultry lips, he does, hot cum shooting straight onto his t-shirt. “Fuck!” he yells, eyes shut tight, riding out one of the best orgasms of his life. She strokes him until his balls are completely drained. Finally, he opens his eyes to inspect the scene, shocked by the mess painted across the bottom of his shirt, spilling onto his abdomen. 
“Holy shit,” he mutters, smiling at her.
She grins back at him. “Not bad, right?”
“Not bad at all. Really fucking good, actually.” He kisses her, fingers drifting down to her arousal, rubbing the fabric against her clit. “Come here. Let me eat this pretty pussy out. Please. I want it so bad.”
“Since you said it so nicely, I guess I can let you have a taste.” 
~~~
You stand up, leaving room for him to lay down on the couch. He doesn’t need to be told. He expects you to ride that pretty face of his. When he’s flat on his back, shirt stripped off and completely naked, he turns to watch you slip out of your panties.
“You’re so fucking sexy,” he praises, reaching down to rub his balls. “I think about this a lot, you know.”
You toss your underwear to the floor, watching him play with himself, removing your remaining clothes. “What do you think about?”
“This. You, naked in my apartment. Riding my face till you come. Fucking your wet pussy right after.”
“I guess tonight’s your lucky night,” you tease, lifting your knee across him, straddling his face. 
“Yes, it is,” he replies, licking his lips, eyes wide with lust at your pussy above him, already wet with arousal. He cranes his neck upwards, tongue out, desperate for a taste.
“Not yet.” You lift up enough so he’s out of reach. “Watch me play with myself first.”
“Fuck,” he swears, salivating.  
You wet your middle finger with your slick, rubbing circles around your clit. He watches in a daze, biting his lower lip, brows knit together in concentration, focused on you pleasuring yourself right above him. He squirms beneath you, thrusting his hips into the air, in an effort to feel anything. “Get it fucking juicy for me, baby. I want to fucking drown in it.”
The little nicknames you’ve grown accustomed to hating has a very different ring to it now. For the first time all semester, you don’t mind it. You actually like it. With your free hand, you run your fingers through his hair, redirecting his gaze on yours. “That’s right. I’m your baby. And what are you?”
He swallows hard. “I…I don’t know.”
“You’re my fuck toy.”
“Fuck yeah. I’m your fuck toy, baby. I’m your fuck toy. Use me, please.”
With your grip firm on his hair, you sink lower, your pussy pressed to his open mouth. He licks your clit, swiping his wide tongue over it, moving side to side. You moan at the glorious sensation, rocking your hips across his face to feel more. He latches onto your swollen bud, humming in pleasure as he suckles on it. His hips rut into nothing again, arms at his sides, clutching hard at the cushions, letting you be in total control. This power he gives you turns you on more than you imagined. Maybe because all semester, he always acted as if he had the upper hand. Knowing how desperate he is to be beneath you, to please you beyond any other desire he has, it only spurs you on. 
You grind yourself on his face, the squelching noises indicating how sloppy he’s eating you out and how wet you’re becoming because of it. He’s relentless, alternating between licking, slurping, and sucking at your clit. You blissfully indulge in it until you climax on his tongue, bud over-stimulated, pussy soaked with his spit and your slick. 
“Fuck,” he muffles, slurping the cum from your sleek entrance. Legs wobbly from your orgasm, you lift off him, shifting to reposition yourself comfortably on top. His cock is hard beneath you, sticky with his cum from earlier. Through shiny lips, he whines, “I’m so fucking hard again. Fuck me. Fuck me with that wet pussy.”
Reaching behind you, you align him with your slit, sinking down on his shaft. He lets out a gasp, “I’m so fucking sensitive, fuck.” Concerned, you attempt to lift off, but he shakes his head fervently. “Don’t. Please baby. Fuck me till I come. I need it. I need it.”
You ride him, bouncing your ass on his lap, thrusting his cock deep inside you. He moans loudly, babbling filthy words from his needy mouth.
Use this cock, baby. Fuck me like a toy. 
Make yourself come on this dick. 
It’s all fucking yours. Take it, baby. Take it. 
I’m all yours. I’m all yours.
You moan with him, another climax approaching. Grabbing his wrist, you guide him to your clit. He caresses your puffy bud with his fingers. “I’m going to come,” you whimper.
“Can I come with you, princess? Please, can I come inside you?”
You nod wordlessly, pumping him in and out of you faster as he rubs your clit relentlessly, determined to make you orgasm. When you cry out in ecstasy, he joins you. “Fuck, I’m coming. I’m coming, baby.”
For the second time tonight, both of you come, this time together. He spills inside you, filling your cunt with his warm, creamy load as you coat his dick with yours. Your body is spent from the euphoria, throat dry from whining in pleasure, and your curiosity satiated. It’s a lie to say you’ve never imagined being fucked silly by Eren. No matter how much he annoyed you, irritated you, aggravated you, there were moments this semester when you thought about it. How good it would feel to ride him, fuck him dumb until he’s begging for release. 
“I’m exhausted,” he giggles, limp on the couch, softening cock still inside you, wrapping you in a snug embrace.
“Me too.” You settle into his arms, relaxed and comfortable against his chest. 
“Thank you,” he mutters, caressing your back tenderly. “Thank you.” He doesn’t elaborate, repeating it a few more times as he nuzzles his nose into the top of your head.
You cuddle together in a comfortable silence. “Sleep here tonight. I have an extra toothbrush and you can wear my clothes.” 
Accepting his offer, the two of you start tidying, picking up strewn wardrobe from the floor, wiping away the sticky aftermath of sex. You hop in the shower, rinsing your bodies clean, exchanging passionate kisses while the water splashes you. After you dry off and brush your teeth, you change into an oversized t-shirt and a pair of boxers he lends you, jumping into the bed beside him. He smiles at you. “You look good in my clothes.”
You give him a smooch, getting yourself cozy under the covers. He spoons you, arm sliding over your waist, interlacing his fingers with yours. His breath is pleasantly warm on your neck. “I know we’re probably past this already, but I want to formally apologize. It wasn’t right the way I treated you, and I’m sorry. Genuinely.”
“Apology accepted,” you respond, squeezing his hand. “I’m sorry too. For saying anything that hurt you out of anger.”
“You don’t have to be. I deserved it.”
“Still, I’m sorry. And no one deserves that.”
“All is forgiven then.” He chuckles softly. “For two smart people, we sure are dumb.”
You laugh with him. “If only we were a tad bit smarter, we could have started this months ago.”
“Yeah," he says, nestling his face against your neck. "You’re right.”
Nothing else is said as the two of you drift into sleep. It’s nice, having closure on a previously volatile relationship. However, something else lingers after tonight. Another door opens, leading to the unknown. He confessed his true feelings for you. You didn’t have time to process it, too focused on settling your truce through sex. While there’s no doubt that you find him physically attractive, can you really move on from the past and give him a chance? 
~~~
The words are on the tip of his tongue, and he decides to keep it that way, not wanting to disrupt this moment of peace. Not wanting to complicate it any further. He knows that this is the beginning and the end of whatever this fling is. She hasn’t reciprocated his feelings and he won’t pressure her to, not tonight. Maybe not ever. No matter how badly he wishes to see her again, keep in touch, make it official, he won’t ask that of her. At the end of the day, it’s his own fault for waiting too long, for being too late. Time has run out, and now he’s paying the price.
They stay in each other’s arms, Eren listening closely to the sound of her steady breathing. Cherishing how her fingers fit seamlessly in his, the small smile on her lips as she drifts into a tranquil slumber, the warmth and weight of her body against his.  
The next morning, he wakes up, alone. If not for the stack of clothes he let her borrow folded neatly at the end of the bed, he would have thought last night’s events were all a dream. He vaguely recalls her waking up beside him, placing a chaste kiss on his forehead, sneaking out on her tippy toes at the crack of dawn. Still, he searches the apartment, calling out her name to no response. 
Throughout the week, he’s constantly on the verge of texting her. He never goes through with it, though, scared to be rejected. Afraid of having the final memory of her be one of heartbreak. 
As a last-ditch effort, he devises a plan. Eren hosts a party at his place to celebrate the upcoming graduation. He invites the Alpha Tau brothers, plus some sorority girls for good measure. However, his main objective is to invite her. He ends up sending a group text to his senior project team, casually informing them of his little gathering. Sasha and Connie both reply, announcing their attendance, but she doesn’t.
At the party, he tries not to think about her, distracting himself by socializing with the crowds of people already filling his apartment. When Connie and Sasha arrive together, he decides to try one more time before he consumes his sorrows away. After exchanging polite greetings with them, he asks, “Have you guys heard anything from her?”
“Nope. I don’t think she even texted back, right?”
Eren’s ready to reach for the closest container of booze he can find. The duo walks past him to enjoy the party while he remains standing, watching the door for another minute. Just as he’s about to turn his heel, he sees it open slowly. 
She walks in, her favorite drink in hand, a happy expression on her face as soon as she spots him. In the background, someone yells out, “Eren! Tequila shots?”
Waving the familiar bottle at him, she smiles.
“Nah,” Eren responds, gazing at her with a grin. “I’m sticking with strawberry soju from now on.”
--------------------
Taglist: @liliorsstuff-blog @batafuraikisu @bloompompom @belovedackerman @wtfiswrongwithme1
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twoidiotwriters1 · 8 months
Text
Gems ✨ (Sanji, Zoro and Ace)
A/N: If you want this with more characters, comment.
You have a fascination for rocks, stones, and gemstones. It’s been your hobby since you were a kid, but the real deal of it it’s to find one with the same tone as your loved one’s eyes. How would they react to this? 
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Sanji
“Wait, maybe this one—no, maybe this—no!” You pout making Sanji chuckle. “Don’t laugh, it’s not fair.” 
“I’m sorry, love,” he smiles and returns to cut the vegetables. 
You sigh. “That’s the worst part! It’s not your fault,” You cross your arms. “It’s not your fault for having such beautiful blue eyes that I can't find in a stone.” 
“I’ll take the compliment.” 
“Whatever,” you roll your eyes. “It’s just,” you let out a groan and walk to his side. “Sanji,” you call him and he leaves the knife on the table. He’s surprised at the closeness, but you grab his face and make him lean to you.  
“How the hell am I gonna find a colour as this ice shade of blue that is warm at the same time? This fucking blue that changes with light like a pure diamond. It’s so frustrating to look at your eyes because I want to admire them every minute! Your eyes are pure blue, like the all blue, my all blue, Sanji.” Your eyes tear and you pout again, then you leave Sanji’s face to hug him by the waist. 
By instinct, he hugs you too, but his mind’s a blur. Sanji, the one and only lover cook, the man that always flirts with any woman (now just with you) the one that always knows how to embellish his words now paralyzed after your beautiful speech. 
 He keeps silent, so quiet that you don’t even hear his breath, so you step away to look at him with worry. “Sanji?” 
“N-no one has ever… told me such beautiful things… in my life,” he says still in a trance as his cheeks tint in a pinky shade. 
You gasp. “Are you… blushing?” You notice with wide eyes. “Did I make you blush?” 
He shakes his head, coming back to reality and he realizes his cheeks feel warm. He laughs embarrassed. “How could I not if the most amazing woman that I love says those words?” he grabs you by the waist. 
“I feel powerful,” you joke. 
“Love,” he grabs your chin. “You have all the power over me, you must know that,” he softly kisses you. “I loved how you described my eyes, it made yours bright as well.” 
You frown. “I’m still frustrated.” 
He chuckles. “I’m sure you’ll find it soon, sweetheart,” he kisses you again, taking his time to embrace the feeling of pure luck of having a girlfriend who can make these little details something extraordinary. 
** 
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Zoro
“Zoro!” He groans as he drops the weights. “Zoro! Zoro!” Your voice increases as you approach the crow’s nest. 
“What?” He asks in an exhausted breath when he sees you enter. He walks to grab his bottle of water and then sits down on the floor, back against the wall. 
You run giggling and you sit next to him, crossing your legs. “I found it!” You squeal as you raise your hand and show him the gemstone. 
“A rock?” He raises a brow. 
“No,” you sing, “it’s not just a rock.” You roll your eyes. 
“What is it, then?” He asks annoyed. 
You smile again and lean to put the stone beside Zoro’s right eye “This is a gemstone the same shade as your pretty eyes— And!” You move it to his hair. “Has tints of green like your hair!” 
Zoro’s body tenses when you get closer, but he tries to pay attention to your words instead. He frowns. “What?” 
“Yeah!” You giggle returning to your place. “I’ve spent a month looking for it.” 
He’s lost. 
“Why?” He let out a chuckle and your smile faded.  
You stare at him feeling your cheeks burn as you play with the stone in your hands. “I-I like your eye colour, and I thought… I mean—I could find it in a gemstone,” your voice and head are low as you speak. “Because it’s a different kind of—you know what?” You raise your head and tensely smile. “Maybe it was a bad idea,” You panic and try to stand up, but Zoro stops you grabbing your hand. You look at him confused.  
“It wasn’t,” he didn't mean to make you feel bad, he genuinely didn’t understand, but as you told him a little, now he feels… odd. “Can I see it?” He blushes.  
Your smile returns. “Sure!” You say giving him the stone. 
He looks and your heart pounds in excitement. 
“Uh—Can I… Can I keep it for a while?” He asks shyly. 
You raise your brows. “Yeah, it’s okay. It’s your eye after all,” you giggle. 
“You’re so weird sometimes,” he smirks. 
The next day you’re showing Luffy some of your new stones till Sanji calls everybody to eat. Your captain disappears in a heartbeat while you take your time to store your stones. 
“Hey!” Zoro sits next to you leaning his arms against his knees.  
“Hi!” You smile. Then he sighs and seems like he’s debating inside his head. “What’s wrong?” You tilt your head. 
He blushes hard. “I cut the stone that you gave me.” 
“Oh,” you frown. “I—I mean, it’s yours, you can do what—” 
“Here,” he interrupts you touching his left ear. You follow his hand and gasp loudly. He's always used his three iconic golden earrings, but now, behind the last one, there’s a piece of the gemstone. 
You can’t close your mouth keeping your eyes on the jewelry, then you slowly and carefully touch it. 
“You like it?” He smirks looking at you. His eyes show playfulness, you could cry right there. 
“I love it!” You throw yourself to kiss him, and he catches you grabbing your waist. “You’re so sweet,” you coo close to his face. 
“No, I'm not,” he frowns. 
“Such a good boyfriend,” you insist. 
“Stop it,” he laughs. 
“And you look hot.” 
“That’s what I like,” he kisses you. 
** 
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Ace
“Ace!” 
“I didn’t do it!” He says by reflex making you giggle. 
“Hands up! Star still,” you joke but he obeys anyway. You put your new stone beside his eye. 
“Are you gonna take out my eye to sell it?” He asks. 
You frown. “Why would I sell just one eye?” You back off. 
He shrugs. “I never know your plans. I mean, I bet they’ll give you something, it's Fire Fist’s eye.” He says with a cocky smile. 
“They want all of you, not just your eye—that’s not why—” You shake your head. “Never mind, look,” You raise your hand to show him the rock and he quickly takes it. 
He knows about your love for rocks, and he always waits for you to explain the rock’s story. He loves how excited you get. “Awesome! What are you gonna tell me about this little guy?” He closes one eye to look at the details. 
You blush. “It’s uh, it’s a special one.” 
“Why?” He asks still distracted. 
“It’s… it’s the same colour as your eyes.”  
He tilts his head. “Really?” He looks around him. “Wait, I need a mirror,” he stands up and runs inside de ship. He comes back a few minutes later with a piece of mirror in his hand. He raises it and puts the rock beside his eye again. “Wait,” he frowns, “it also has a little red. My eyes are red?” 
You giggle at his confused face. “No, you don’t have red in your eyes. That’s because it’s made of lava, it’s like it has fire in it… like you.” 
He lowers his hands to fully look at you. he stays in silence for a minute, then smiles wide. “It’s amazing! How did you find it?” He asks excitedly. 
Your chest feels warm and your heart pounds hard against it. Not many people appreciate your love of gems, so you can't help but get a little teary-eyed as you share this with your boyfriend. 
“It took me months, but it was worth it,” you smile. 
“It’s cool—but why did you want to look for a stone the same colour as my eyes?” 
“Uh,” you flush. “’Cuz I like your eyes, dummy.” 
He smirks, and he opens his mouth to tease you, but then, an idea comes to his mind. “I got an idea, can I?” He says like a little kid pointing to the stone. 
You frown . His ideas can get a little… unexpected. “With—with the gemstone?” He nods. “Yeah, I guess.” 
“Great!” He says, lighting up his finger with a fire flame and cutting the stone in half with just one movement. You look at it in shock. 
“What!? Why? Ace?” 
“It’s all right, sweetheart, trust the process.”  
He kneels and unties both of his boot’s laces and then he wraps the stone in them several times. “Ta-da!” He says showing you an improvised kind of necklace. You grab it while he does the same with his half. 
“Let me help ya’,” he walks and puts the stone around your neck. “Ha! Now I always have an eye on you!” He laughs at his joke. You touch your stone and look at his moving against his bare chest. “Bad joke, I know but… are you okay, angel?” He asks with worry. 
Your best answer is to jump into his arms and hug him tight. He quickly catches you by your waist. “I love you, Ace,” you whisper with the biggest smile on your face. 
He chuckles. “I love you too.” 
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suzukiblu · 11 months
Note
For wip Wednesday Love the vibes of “weird Kryptonian bonding rituals” especially if it’s superfam
. . . I am just gonna blame the fact that I haven't really worked on this WIP in a minute for how "write you three sentences" turned into "write you 1k", cough cough.
Clark gets into Superman's suit and leaves the Daily Planet building at inadvisable speed, probably, but manages not to break the sound barrier anywhere too obvious, he thinks. He follows the sound of that thrumming heartbeat and voice, and finds himself blocks and blocks away, hovering in the air a few hundred feet above a food truck being operated by a woman with dark skin and bright pink hair in her mid-twenties, and the single customer standing on the sidewalk in front of it as assorted civilians pass by in one's and two's.
The single customer is the thrumming heartbeat's owner, and he's about fifteen or sixteen, with pale skin and dark curly hair and bright and eager and inhumanly blue eyes behind a pair of round sunglasses. He's wearing a loose-fitting black leather jacket and heavy black boots and a tight bodysuit, all blue and black and red and yellow and with the exact same "S" on its chest as the one Clark's wearing himself.
The kid looks up, takes one look at Clark, and absolutely lights up.
Clark feels several very new and strange feelings, then charges straight down into the kid and sends them both skidding into the empty street. Hitting him, touching him, is like . . .
Clark barely even remembers to be careful, but the instinct is ingrained too deep to ignore even as they crash into the pavement together.
And then the kid laughs delightedly and throws him off.
Actually throws him.
Clark comes to a stop twenty feet up in the air, blinks down at the kid still beaming up at him, and then bolts back down and smashes him into the pavement again.
"Shit!" the food truck worker shrieks in alarm. "Don't hurt him, Superman, he's just a kid!"
Clark . . . pauses, then looks up from said kid that he is currently pinning into the street as he struggles underneath him.
"'Hurt him'?" he asks in reflexive confusion, and then realizes how batting a teenager around like a person-shaped cat toy and pinning him to the street hard enough to crack it probably actually looks to an outside observer.
. . . um.
Whoops.
"Um," he starts awkwardly, and then the kid slips his pin while he's distracted and throws his arms around his neck with a gleeful laugh and a bright grin.
"Dad!" he crows triumphantly, and hugs Clark harder than literally anyone has ever hugged him before, except maybe, like, Ivo in the fullest and most vicious version of his Parasite suit while trying to crush him to death. It's . . . kind of adorable. Although also Clark can't really breathe very well now. "I found you! Hi, hi, I totally found you!"
"You did," Clark agrees reflexively and slightly out-of-breath-ly, patting the kid's back as he shoots the food truck worker and the several other staring civilians back on the sidewalk all an apologetic smile. "Sorry, ma'am, didn't mean to worry you. We're just playing."
"Oh my god so there was this lab and these doctors and they were all such jerks so I maybe kinda just broke everything and I guess maybe that was bad but they all sucked and they deserved it, I promise, I hope they all lost all their data and their personal files and their customization settings when I smashed up their stupid computers and stuff," the kid half-rants, hanging off Clark like a super-strong but also undeniably floating koala, and Clark straightens up and pats his back again as he listens to his excited and also-adorable ramblings. The way the kid talks actually reminds him of a much younger kid, oddly–even younger than Flip and the rest of the newskids, despite his appearance–but that doesn't exactly hurt the "adorable" impression. "Also there were some really annoying guys who were bothering the way cool chick in the truck over there so I threw them in a dumpster but did you know chili fries were a thing because they are so good, seriously, you should get some!"
"Are you asking me to buy you more chili fries, kid?" Clark asks wryly, and the kid somehow finds a way to perk up even more.
"I mean, no, but if you wanna . . ." he mentions, grinning hopefully.
"Two orders of chili fries please, ma'am?" Clark requests, sparing the food truck worker another smile. "If it's not too much trouble."
"Yesssss," the kid cackles delightedly, hanging heavier off his neck again as he somehow actually manages to hug him tighter. The food truck worker stares at them both for a moment, then reaches for an empty fry basket.
"Uh, sure," she says slowly. "No problem. Uh. Sorry, Superman, but do you . . . have a kid? Is that, like . . . what's happening here?"
"Yes," Clark replies reflexively, patting the kid's head.
. . . wait, that's not–
Then the kid beams at him again and nope, never mind, apparently that is right, he guesses he's just a dad now. Oh no, he and Jimmy are gonna need a bigger apartment, and Clark really hates apartment-hunting and doesn't even know how he's gonna afford his half of a bigger apartment, though at least he knows Jimmy can after selling Flamebird so he guesses that's something, and besides, what, is he gonna make his kid sleep on the couch? No way. The kid can have his bunk, heck, he'll sleep on the couch 'til they can sign a new lease or something. At least he's not an intern anymore, that's been a bit of a financial improvement, so that'll help.
". . . well okay then," the food truck worker says. "How do you even age, are you–um. I'm just . . . gonna make those both double orders, then. No charge. Congrats on, uh . . . congrats? Like, fifteen years late, apparently, but congrats."
"Thank you," Clark replies politely, smiling at her again as he walks over to her truck, the kid still happily hanging/floating off him. "We can pay, though, that's really not necessary."
"Dude. My dad would literally fire me if I ever made Superman pay for freaking chili fries," she says feelingly. "Like. Fire me so hard. Unto our family's next three generations, would he fire me."
"Thank you," Clark repeats, still smiling at her, then pulls a couple of twenties out of his belt and tucks them into her tip jar. Only seems decent, he thinks.
"Oh my god how are you even real," the food truck worker mumbles under her breath as she drops both double-orders of fries into the fryer.
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helioswritings · 2 months
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Staring at The Sun
Roronoa Zoro x gn! Reader
wc: 1k
warnings: none
Zoro is in love with you. It scares him more than any enemy he’s ever faced.
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Zoro is in love with you. It doesn’t come as a shock to him, but it consumes him in a way he didn’t think possible. His love for you becomes as much a part of him as sword fighting. He is as loyal to you as he is Luffy and if you asked he would throw himself upon his own swords.
You’d never ask that of him, naturally. It probably wouldn’t even cross your mind.
He’s scared of his love for you. That, too, isn’t a shock. He’s scared that one day, you’ll get hurt and leave him, just like Kuina. He’s scared that he’d hurt you, too. And he’s scared of you finding out that he’s in love with you. He thinks that scares him the most.
His love for you is locked tight in the center of his chest, buried under his innate need to protect those closest to him. Zoro thinks that’s the perfect place for it, where no one could ever find it.
Right now, you’re asleep on his shoulder, sitting with him in the crow’s nest. You look peaceful like this, the moon bathing you in its light.
Zoro wants to throw up at his own thoughts. He never imagined he’d be this cheesy when he fell in love. He sounds like the fucking cook.
He jostles a little and you wake up, eyes bleary. “Huh? What?”
“Nothing, just moved my shoulder.”
You yawn and he hates how cute he thinks it is. “Sorry for sleeping on you.”
“Eh, I’m not doing anything anyways.”
You smile softly at him, eyes shining. He thinks, not for the first time, that when you were created they put the sun in your smile and the stars in your eyes.
“Is it dinner time yet?”
“Just about.”
You stretch, getting ready to climb down the ladder. “You coming?”
He waves you off. “In a sec, make sure Luffy doesn’t eat it all before I get down there.”
You give him a mock salute that’s followed by a wink. “You can count on me. I’ll defend your food with honor.”
Zoro rolls his eyes but watches you go, heart feeling heavy in his chest and his shoulder still warm from where your head was resting.
***
It's a few days after this that his feelings start getting too hard to ignore. They no longer want to be shoved in a box and stamped with ‘return to sender.’ It seems every spare moment alone with you has Zoro biting his tongue when the I love yous want to spill out.
It wouldn’t be so bad if he wasn’t alone with you all the time. It’s never annoying, he’d never think that about you, but it makes his brain go haywire.
You’re so….he can’t even begin to describe it, but he knows that every time you smile at him it seems to steal the breath from his lungs. It makes him want to kiss you.
Your fingers are snapping in front of his face. “Did you hear me?”
“Huh?”
The smile on your face is soft, even as you roll your eyes. “I asked if you would go into town with me tomorrow.”
“Oh. Sure. Plan on getting something that needs heavy lifting?” His grin is cocky.
You laugh. “No, but if I did I’d ask Nami for help, not you.”
You both laugh at that, even though you probably mean it. Hell, he would too.
Quieting down, you suddenly looked shy. “No, I wanted to look at the gifts they have.”
“Gifts? Who for?” Did he forget a birthday?
You put a finger to your lips. “Nosy. It’s a secret.”
“Fine, fine. Whatever you say.” Zoro is burning with the desire to pester you more, but he’ll let it go for now. For now.
You yawn and stare at the sky, as if you’re checking the time. “It’s getting late. Goodnight, Zoro.”
And then you kiss his cheek. It’s scalding. His face is burning.
He stammers out a lame goodnight as he watches you walk away.
***
The market you go to the next day is bustling but not crowded enough that he’d lose you in it. Not that he could, with the way you’re holding his hand.
You chat with every shopkeep you stumble across, giving them that blinding smile every time you bid them goodbye, but still, you don’t find the gift you’re looking for.
Each time you walk away from a stall empty handed you seem a little down. He wonders why.
The fifth time this happens, you sigh in defeat as you sit on a bench.
“What’s got you down?” He asks, taking a seat next to you.
“I’m trying to find-“ you turn away, suddenly shy, mumbling the rest to yourself.
“Huh?”
“I wanted to find something for you. For your swords.”
The confession takes him by surprise, his heart feeling like it could burst out of his chest. “Like what?”
“You complained the other day about running out of oil for your swords. I thought it would be a good gift.”
“Well,” he says, “there’s still one more stall.”
You smile and like always, it’s like staring at the sun. “Okay.”
***
When you hand him the oil a few days later, he pretends he had no idea about it, just to make you laugh or smile again. He thinks of you every time he uses it.
Eventually, history repeats, and you’ve fallen asleep on his shoulder in the crows nest again. Like always, Zoro is left staring down at you, looking at you like most would stare at their subject of worship. The love in his chest no longer scares him, he’s no longer scared that your discovery will cause you to leave.
He knows that if he tells you he loves you, that you will say it back. He may not know a lot, but that he does know. Knows it the same way he knows that he will spend his life protecting Luffy, knows it the same way he knows that he will be the world's greatest swordsman.
So when you open your eyes to blink blearily up at him, he leans down to capture your lips with his own. You smell and taste like the sea, and it seems like the two of you stay interlocked like that for eternity, the spell only broken when Sanji calls for dinner.
Grinning, you stand and stretch. “You coming?”
He grins back. “In a sec.”
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writing-havoc · 2 years
Note
HII! HOW ARE YOU? Okay so i have a kaz brekker x reader request but it's kinda meh but i just can't stop thinking about it. And it's kinda similar to your fic 'high' (my favorite piece of media EVER)
So fem!reader (or gn whichever is easier for you<3) drunk and makes fun of the way kaz talks and his hair and the way how he's really bossy. (I would so call him emo king) and he's just trying to get her to take a bath (be a fish) and rest.
Please please don't feel pressured you can just ignore this. Don't forget to drink water. Have a nice day or night love youu<3
Loverboy
♡ Summary: Kaz comes and fetches you after you have a bit too much to drink. Getting you to bathe and rest for the night is a little more difficult than he remembers.
♡ Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Reader
♡ Fandom: Six of Crows, Grishaverse
♡ Warning(s): Alcohol, Nudity (not smut)
♡ WC: 3.5k
Hello hello!!! Thank you for your request <3 I'm doing pretty alright thank you for asking. I hope you're doing okay!
I loved being prompted to expand on this and experiment with how it would go. To be honest that's also one of my fav pieces of work that I've done, and I'm glad someone else holds the same joy for it that I do!
Anyway, here it is!! Hope you enjoy it anon, ly <3
Please excuse any grammar and spelling mistakes
∘₊✧──────────────────✧₊∘
"Oh for Ghezen's sake just put one foot in front of the other." Kaz nipped, pushing just a bit harder on your back.
Your head was lolling back and to the side, unwillingly looking at the stars. Yet your eyes remain half closed, barely a fraction of your pupil visible in the moonlight. A smile is painted on your face the whole time, lips chapped and cracked from dehydration. "'M tryin' Kaz. But my head is just, so heavy and the stars 're so pretty."
"I know I know- hold on to the cane- the cane!"
He shouldn't have let you have those last few drinks, but unfortunately you batted your little lashes and made the same little promises you do after enough time has passed for his memories to become just a little bit muddled and forget how far from the truth your promises are.
You'll say you'll be fine. You'll say you'll get home safe. You'll say you'll see him soon.
But you can't really fulfill any of those. So he at least has the foresight to stay with you, or to have someone else stay with you and come get him when you down more than your promised two or three.
And he makes a big deal out of it, saying all these things and talking like he's annoyed with you, but really?
He's not.
Not as much as he thinks he should be anyway. If he had heard anybody else complaining as much as he does in his own head he'd stuff his own glove in their mouth and tell them to deal with their inadequate relationship elsewhere.
But it's him, and it's you, and it's different.
You're not like them. You're not violent or a verbal tyrant or negligent.
"Did I ever tell you..." You start, then chuckle to yourself when you straighten up and sway around. "Did I ever tell you that kin'a remind me of a cat with your hair slicked back like that?"
You're,,, silly. And he feels silly saying that but you are. It's the perfect word to describe you when you get like this. Light jabs at the things you like about him, your feet walking to a rhythm in your head that makes you stop and go and speed and slow at random, laughing at the most mundane things.
"I don't believe you have, no." You definitely have. But he allows you to repeat it.
The Slat is wonderfully empty as he opens the door. Only a few people occupy the tables off to the side, but they're just as drunk as you are, and he doubts they can see this far from their drooling.
"Come on." He leads you over to the stairs. "Up we go."
You lean on the rail, shaking your head, smile gone. "Mh-mhn. I can't." You continue to shake your head, eyes closed. "Your leg is bad."
Silly.
"Good observation. Your legs, however, are fine, if a bit wobbly. Up you come." He tries again to coax you up, to no avail. You lean on the rail more, even pushing into it.
He forgot how much you resemble an ox when it comes to getting you to do something. It's like you contain this ability to just plant yourself anywhere and stick no matter the force that's pulling or pushing you.
"Your leg is bad. I can't go up."
"My bad leg does not effect your ability to walk up the stairs." He says as gentle as possible.
"But it does."
He sighs. "Could you explain to me why that is?"
Your bottom lip pushes out just barely, eyes opening and looking at him through your lashes. It's a look that would have any man in Kerch on their knees, he's sure of it. "Need your help."
His heart sunk. "Just grab the railing and my cane, dove. I'll take my good leg up first."
You analyzed the stairs, scrutinizing them. "Promise?"
"You know I don't make-"
"Promise?" A hint of anger bubbled in your tone, the same firmness in your eyes when you snapped your head to look at him.
He takes a deep breath. "I promise."
And just like that you were ready to ascend the stairs. You grabbed the railing, clumsily reaching out for his cane which he gave readily.
Even in your drunken state, you knew exactly which stairs creaked and which ones were just this side of broken. You skipped a stair, glaring at it as Kaz ascended with his good leg first, then continued with your usual lax expression.
He tried to step with his bad leg, but you immediately backtracked and held his cane firmly, holding him back as well. "You promised." You bit out.
"I did." He switched back, good leg going up, slowly edging you along. "It just slipped my mind."
"Nothin' slips your mind." You pouted, begrudgingly ascending when the cane went too far to hold close.
"Important things," he corrected. "Important things don't slip my mind."
You yanked on the cane, making him look at you. "You're important."
And he... doesn't know what to do with that.
Of course in whatever realm you were occupying he'd be important. He's important for a lot of things. His businesses, his club, whatever constitutes as leader of the crows.
It's not that he thinks he's not important. He just forgets to take into account that with you, he's important in the little things too.
Pointing him where to massage on his leg when it's giving him trouble, bringing him fresh tea when he tries to drink the day old stuff pushed to the corner of his desk, at least reminding him to sleep when the clock reaches two bells in the dark hours.
And right now, when you force him to take the pressure off his poorly healed shin.
"You're right." He confirms, helping you to the top of the stairs. "I am. Now come on."
When he began to lead you to his room, you groaned and stood in place. "Noo. I don' wanna fish."
His mouth struggled to stay in a line, corners quirking up. "You have to fish. You're sweaty and you smell like alcohol."
"I's a good smell."
"You gag in the morning when you smell it."
"Hogwash, you walking shadow."
He tugged you along, walking ahead of you and up the stairs to the attic. His help wasn't much needed here with how narrow and more secure the steps were, but you needed the extra hand to coax you up and towards your inevitable bath.
His office was dark, the only thing preventing the room from being cast in complete darkness was the street lights outside pushes a faint yellow glow through the window.
A lantern was stored in a bookcase next to the door for this reason. He clipped his cane onto his belt and hooked a finger under the handle, giving you little assurances that he wasn't going to let you fall while he navigated the room he knew by heart.
He parked you by his makeshift desk, guiding your hands to the desktop for some leverage while he rustled through a cabinet for the matches.
Immediately you were enthralled with the fire. Nina thinks you were an Inferni in your past life, and he finds the idea hard to not believe as he watches your once droopy eyes widen and follow the ball of fire in his hand as it lights the lantern.
He closes the shade, putting out the match and watching you smile as the whole room lights up.
"So bright." You whisper, as if it's your first time seeing fire.
He shrugs off his coat, throwing it over the back of his chair. "Very. Don't touch it."
You pout, taking your hand away. "I don't know what you're referring to."
He takes the lantern from where it rests on the desk, unhooking his cane and walking to the bathroom. "Come take your bath."
"'Come take your bath'." You mock him. "You're a bossy bossy man, you know that?"
He can't see you as he hangs the lantern on a hook, but he knows your hands are on your hips and your head cocked to the side. You always became so sassy when the initial fuzziness seems to wear off.
"It's what im paid for." He calls, swirling the basin of water he had filled up before he left. It was only expected that you should get a bath tonight, and he didn't want to wake anybody now of all times to come and fill it up.
"Youre not getting paid right now."
He didn't have any soap. He used up all of his last time and you usually keep yours tucked in your room, eager to hide its existence from greedy hands.
Just water will have to do, since he doesn't trust you to not fall asleep in the time it will take to go to your room and retrieve yours from your spare set of shoes.
He exits the bathroom, coming face to face with you. "I should be with how I'm ordering you around right now."
He waves you over, and it seems at this point you're becoming too tired to really fight back. You shrug off your outer layers, leaving them in a pile on the floor that you attempt to kick to the side. It's seems you think that you did away with them well enough, but really you just kind of spread them around.
That will have to come later, he thinks, and then puts a hand on your bare shoulder as you take off your shirt, throwing it over the side of the basin. Your pants come off and are thrown at its base, shoes somehow already off in the time span it took to check the tub and come retrieve you, socks following.
"You can keep your undergarments on if you'd like." He says, resting his cane against the wall.
"Oh don't get shy on me now, Kaz. You've seen me naked at least a dozen times." You look back at him, a shit eating smirk on your face.
He's thankful for the warm lantern light to obscure the warmth creeping up his neck and nipping at his ears. "Only because we end up in situations like these. It's more efficient to just get you clean now than have you complain in the morning and almost throw up in the tub."
You moan, the sound throaty and like gravel. "I don't wanna be a fish."
"You dont have to be one for long. Just a few minutes until you're clean."
"Can' be clean if there's no soap."
"We can at least get most of the grime off. Come on, one leg over the other."
Slowly, you climb into the tub, Kaz helping you get in with minimal sloshing.
And now comes the hard part.
His gloves are made of leather. He can't dunk and soak them in the water and expect them to be fine later.
They come off quicker than last time, but just as shakey. He puts on two pairs of cloth ones he's kept in here since the third time this happened, when it became apparent that this would happen again and several more times after.
Once they're on he flexes his hand, feeling the cold unforgiving waves slosh at his knees and lick up his thighs.
It's not the same. It's a bath. It's you.
"Can you get your body?" He asks, though. Because as much as he'd like to be of some help here he can't help but need to touch you the least amount as possible.
You think it over, stretching out as much as the tub allows before nodding. "M'yeah, I can do it."
He hands you a rag, watching it sink under the water and become several shades darker.
He turns around and allows you to do your thing, but knows your routine from when you, Nina, and Jesper had a heated debate about which order to wash your body in.
You'll wash your neck and chest first, digging into your collars bones and over your shoulders, then do you arms, followed by your torso and around your back. Then you'll scrub at your legs, moving to your face, then your waist, then your feet.
It'll take about ten minutes to go over every part, scrubbing in places you think have the most grime, and all the while having your shampoo already scrubbed into your hair so that you can rinse everything out all at once.
But you're tired and drunk, and he doesn't know how far you'll make it down your list until you eventually get frustrated or too exhausted or both.
He listens to the water in the tub move as your scrub yourself beneath its surface. A throaty hum emanates from your throat, a tune oddly familiar to the song that plays in the club filling the room.
Every once in a while you'll sigh, the water halting. He'll lean back and ask if you're alright, and you'll hum and get right back to scrubbing.
It's fifteen minutes before you say anything.
"You alright t' do my hair?"
His stomach churns, acid bubbling at its entrance.
"Ill be fine."
He turns, gesturing with his finger for you to lean your head into the water.
There's a pause before he reaches into the cold depths, wondering if he actually /will/ be fine.
When you look at him, eyes rimmed in red and glassy, he scrounges up whatever stability and modicum of the word "cope" he has and dunks them in.
Immediately he finds your hair, burying his fingers between the strands and finding your scalp.
It's hard to feel anything besides temperature with these gloves, and your head is practically burning against the cool water.
You're definitely cold. He can tell by your flushed cheeks and the way you curl your arms around your waist, goosebumps littering your arms. Yet you remain warm under his touch.
He watches the little hairs on your arm wave in the bath current as he scrubs, almost hypnotizing in their back and forth movement as you move to let them rest against your thighs.
But it's not enough.
He's scrubbing your hair, trying so hard to just focus on the grime under his fingers as his hands make the cold water slosh. The feeling is oddly familiar to the waves coating his hands as they dunk half under as he clings to blue flesh.
But you look at him, and your giggle is like little bells that keep him above water, just for the moment.
"You know what you look like?" You ask. "You look like- oh, what's that new style they got goin' on?"
He has no idea what you're talking about. Fashion trends are far beneath his radar unless necessary for a job.
You snap your fingers, pointing up at him. "Emo!"
That makes his eyebrows raise. Because he is familiar with Emo, because a bunch of kids called him that when they were out much past their bedtime. They found it necessary to shout it at him while he was passing by, laughing as they ran into an alleyway.
"I don't think that's accurate." He manages to get out, dunking your head a little further to cover your ears and get the wisps of hair in front of them.
"It's sooo accurate." You draw out your o's, blinking slowly and out of sync. "Emo king."
He sighs. "Whatever you say, little fish."
You pout, moving away from him and turning belly down, chin dipping into the water. "I thought I was your dove."
Again, thankful for that warm light. It makes his stomach feel all twisty the way you say "your". For just a moment, he let's himself smile, really smile, and puts his chin on his hands. "You are. But right now, you're a fish."
You huff, turning back and putting your head within reach. "Okay, mister emo cat."
He sighs, beginning to scrub at the parts of your scalp that he already got but feels he needs to do another once over for. "I am neither emo nor a cat."
"Tell that to your hair, loverboy."
Loverboy.
He scoffs, taking his hands from your hair. "Your hair's done. Get out so you can dry off."
You laugh at your accomplishment, sitting up and scrunching your hair as he discards his wet gloves on a towel rack and dries himself off.
Honestly, loverboy? He's not some lovesick puppy. Loverboy applies to those who are unfathomably whipped, wrapped around their partners finger and touching at all times. It has no place being in the same sentence that his likeness occupies except to say that he is not a 'loverboy'.
He hands you a towel as you get out of the tub, heading to his closet to fetch you some of his clothes.
"An old one, please?" You yell out to him.
"I know." He calls back.
If he can help it he replaces his button ups every few months. But you like the ones that are just around that area of wear and tear. In your words, they "ain't tight and smell like him. Win win."
He doesn't bother with pants, but grabs a pair of his underwear for you to change into instead that he knows you'll find more comfortable.
As he limps back to the bathroom, he halts as he analyzes his thoughts and actions.
Fuck. Maybe he /does/ deserve the name Loverboy.
The realization almost makes him groan and sit down on the floor right then and there.
Can't he just carve his heart out? Isn't that what the poets and song writers do?
Alas, he is neither a poet nor a musician. So he will instead take the long way out, and bring you his clothes and get you into into his bed before the third bell chimes.
He hands you the clothes, watching your face light up for a moment before he exits to his office to clean up the mess you made.
The beak of his cane hooks under your coat, dragging it up and into his hand which he then throws onto the chair. You hate getting it off the coat rack, half the time pulling it with you when you take your coat back. So he sets it here for now, and takes your shoulder bag and shoes and organizes them around the chair just as you usually do.
"I think I found my new look."
He turns around, seeing you trying to pose against the wall. It's supposed to be sultry and sexy, but it definitely does not read that way with your soaked hair, stiff back, and uncooperative limbs.
"If you think so." He nearly chuckles, taking his gloves from your hands and slipping them onto his own, and then retrieves the lantern from the bathroom. "Come to bed."
Thankfully, you seem to love the idea of the bed. It doesn't take much to lead you to the little nook he calls his bedroom. He hooks the lantern to the wall as your body slumps onto his partially eaten sheets.
"Mmm." You hum, smile hidden under your squashed cheek. "Warm."
"Doubtful." He jabs, unfolding a blanket at the foot of the bed and draping it over you.
"It really is. Should try it sometime." You poke at the space beneath your eye, tongue sticking out.
He assumes you're referencing the eye bags that have taken permanent residence on his face, to which he rolls his eyes and hikes up the blanket to cover your back. You hate the cold creeping in.
If you wake up cold in the morning, you will be cold for the rest of the day. And unfortunately for you, you have a job in about six hours.
The less you have to complain about, the better.
"Ill try it later." He promises. "For now, you need it more."
You mumble something, but with the way your eyes are drooping he figures you're not even aware you said anything at all.
As you doze off, he half sits on his nightstand, and watches your breathing begin to slow and even out. It's loud at first, but eventually you grow quieter and quieter, muscles relaxing as you sink into his hard mattress.
Your hair is thrown about everywhere, still wet from your bath, and you'll need Nina to remove a kink in your shoulder in the morning. But for now, you're calm, and safe, and that's enough.
He takes a deep breath, just the same as you do, and then sighs.
"Goodnight, little fish." He mumbles, and then stands, off to collect the ingredients for a hangover tonic and catch up on paperwork.
∘₊✧──────────────────✧₊∘
Tags:
@b3kk3r-by-br3kk3r @a-candle-maker
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soap-ify · 9 months
Note
can I ask for some general fluff headcanons for our soapy boy?
AT YOUR SERVICE ANON!! i don't usually do hcs but i wanted an excuse to ramble about him. so i present you soap hcs that start off as general but gets oddly specific!
cw — very fluffy and mildly suggestive at some places.
˙ᵕ˙ (not so) general soap hcs !
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the most widely known thing is that johnny is clingy as hell. annoying but you really wouldn’t have it any other way. he is always holding onto you tight, never letting you go even if you’re desperate to get out of the bed for a shower or some breakfast. the only time he’d sometimes let you go is when you’re running late for work. he likes having his arm around your waist all the time, nuzzling his head into your neck and smothering you with kisses without any shame in front of others, especially the taskforce. is this his weird little way of marking you? maybe.
very open about how much he loves you. he’s always speaking his mind, telling you about every single thing he loves about you, all your quirks and habits.
can’t imagine this man ever being a cheater. i imagine him being raised by his mother quite well, and god forbid if he ever cheats, his mother is going to be so angry. he has been taught to treat his lovers in the best manner possible. and so he does. even if he is very playful and just awful at courting, always too eager, he still buys you lots of flowers and takes you on dates, giving you all the love that he has.
he likes hugging your leg. like actually. you’re laying down? he’s beneath you, arms wrapped around your legs, hugging it tight while his face is resting on your upper thigh. he can’t even explain why he does it.
he LOVES it when you press kisses on his crows feet. the same thing with the scar on his chin!
this man watched blade runner 2049 once and had an identity crisis for a whole week. you were concerned.
there is this very specific type of french fries that he likes with certain toppings that he can’t really find in any other fast food place and it annoys him to hell.
he begs you to match with him. it can be from watches that come in pairs for couples or maybe keychains! just match with him or else he’ll be pouty for the whole week.
once when johnny was drunk, he showed you his huge art journal. you weren’t even surprised to know that more than half of the pages were just drawings of you.
johnny loves having strangely deep and philosophical conversations with you late at night. sometimes he just can’t sleep, feeling too active and energetic. if you are luckily awake too, be prepared to question the meaning of life and the existence of everything around you both with him.
he is so disgusting when it comes to sending gym pics (you love it). all flushed and glistening with sweat, he’d be sending your mirror selfies while flexing his muscles, a proud happy grin always adorning your looks.
has a mole on his inner thigh and on his right shoulder! you love kissing them so much.
he bites. hide before he bites your tummy.
he loves taking you to snowy mountains and showing you around his homeland! expect to be attacked with lots of snowballs by him, he really doesn’t show any mercy.
loves drawing on your thighs if you’d let him. he would grab a marker or a paintbrush, drawing pretty things on your skin, loving the way you would giggle at the ticklish feeling. he might accidentally touch your other ticklish spots too just to hear you laugh.
i am a firm believer of johnny having sisters and being the only son in the family! he’d take you to meet his family once, and his sisters showed you all of his childhood pictures while telling you of his silly actions, all while johnny was in the back, face all red.
he can knit! learnt it from his eldest sister. he likes knitting you sweaters or gloves, always choosing your favourite colour.
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acewritesfics · 6 months
Text
Beautiful | Jax Teller 
Pairing: Jax Teller x Winston!Reader 
Request: No. Find original here -
Synopsis: Jax takes his old lady out for the night.  
Warnings: Mentions of drugs, alcohol, swearing, talks of body parts, mentions of dressing and undressing. This was originally a Song-fic. H/C - Hair Color. E/C - Eye Color
Word Count: 2,186
Main Masterlist
Jax beams as he watches the woman he's madly in love with hurry around their bedroom, dressed in her black lace bra and panties set, that just so happens to be his favorite, oblivious to him standing there, focused on trying to decide what to wear. His eyes scan her body, stopping on her ass, admiring his third favorite part of her body. 
He never imagined falling in love with Y/N Winston, the younger sister of his best friend, but something changed when she left for college. When Y/N left Charming for college, she was just Opie's annoying little sister; but, when she returned four years later, it seemed as though she had completely changed. She was now a woman, not a girl. 
Y/N settles on a pair of skintight black jeans and a flowing deep crimson tank top. On the bed, she has her leather jacket that he gifted her for her 21st birthday, laying next to her jeans.  She eventually catches him standing there as she slides her legs into her jeans.  She pulls on her top as he enters the bedroom, a bit disappointed that his second favorite part of her body was now also hidden from him. 
After giving him a short kiss, she walks over to her dresser and gathers up her make up bag and hair brush. "I thought we were going to meet up at the clubhouse?" 
"Church got out a little early," he muttered, his eyes following her as she entered the ensuite connected to their bedroom. He observes her brushing her H/C hair as he leans against the door frame. 
When she put down her hairbrush, he closed the gap between coming up behind her so they're back to chest. He slides his arms around her waist, his fingertips caressing the flesh on her left hip where his crow was inked before resting his hands on her stomach and kissing the side of her head. "I figured I'd be a gentleman and come pick up my old lady." 
"You'll be driving the cage," she quips as she looks at him through the mirror.  
"I know," He smiles looking back at her, his baby blues meeting her E/C eyes. He takes a step back from her as she starts to apply her makeup. 
They got it confirmed last week that Y/N is pregnant again, after speculating that she was a few days before hand. Aside from not being able to ride bitch right now, they haven't told anyone about the pregnancy yet. Being just nine weeks along, they choose to hold off until the second trimester, when the risk of miscarriage is significantly lower. The first pregnancy ended in a miscarriage at 11 weeks, and it wasn't only them who were devastated by it. 
Despite the fact that they are quite certain their family aren't buying into the excuse, they used her being sober driver as an explanation for her abstinence from drinking and riding on the back of Jax's motorcycle. They noticed Gemma, Opie's, Piney's and even Clay's suspicious looks when she would deny a drink or avoid being on the of a motorcycle. Y/N could tell Gemma was the most suspicious and that she was picking up on more than just those two things. 
Once Y/N has finished applying her makeup, she exits the bathroom to retrieve her jacket and put it on, with Jax close behind. 
"How do I look?" She asks as she slowly spins around, flaunting her appearance. 
He closes the gap between them once again, encircling his arms around her waist and planting a scorching kiss to her lips. He smiles as she responds kissing him just as heated as he was.  Nobody else has ever made him feel the way he does when he kisses Y/N. He knows he had the same effect on her as she always left him out of breath. He knew this because of the small moment after their kiss when her eyes remained closed and her lips pouted. 
Before letting her go, he quickly kisses her and doesn't say anything as he leads her to the car, locking the front door on their way out of the house. 
"I never answered your question," he says as he opens the passenger door for her but blocks her from entering the vehicle. She looks at him puzzled. "You look fuckin' beautiful," he whispers as he kisses her lips again before helping her into the car before getting in himself and driving to the SAMCRO clubhouse. 
When Jax pulls into the lot, the music is already booming from the speakers, there is already a strong odor of weed and cigarettes in the air, and beer bottles and cigarette butts are scattered all over the ground. He exits the car as Y/N gets out and meets him at the front of the car. He smiles as she slips her smaller hand into his larger one and laces their fingers together. As they enter the clubhouse, he brings her hand to his lips and gently kisses the back of it. 
As soon as they are inside, surrounded by patches, friends of the clubs, old ladies, sweet butts and crow eaters, Jax let's go of her hand and placed his arm around her waist pulling her into his side. A few people stared and scoffed at them, he was unable to control the smirk that grew on his lips. The women envious of Y/N and the men who aren't members of the club wishing they were him. 
Jax orders drinks from the prospect behind the bar before noticing Tig and Chibs sitting nearby. He leans close to Y/N to talks to her without having to yell, "Go sit down with Tig and Chibs, and I'll bring the drinks over." 
She gives him a quick peck on the cheek and moves over to the table where his SAMCRO brothers are seated. He watches when both men stand up and hug her before she sits down. 
He catches a few men glancing in her direction with hungry eyes as he surveys the crowded room. As his gaze returns to her, he suppresses the temptation to pound their faces into the nearest surface. Jax is unsure of what he did to earn her love, but he is glad that he did. He couldn't picture his life without her. 
Jax has only ever been in one committed relationship before he got into one with Y/N. Because of Tara's decision to go medical school, his ex-girlfriend ended their relationship but not without trying to convince him to leave with her. He'd been crushed and drowned himself in weed, alcohol, and pussy when he wasn't working his way up in the club. 
All of it came to an end when Y/N returned from college. 
After she returned home, a lot of things changed for him. Y/N became the reason he stayed awake and alone in bed most nights, her face being the one he saw when he tried to take another girl back to his room. When she wasn't with him, he thought of her constantly, wondering what she was doing and if she was safe. He had to stop himself from calling her every chance that he got  He existed solely for her and the club. Even though the guys made fun of him for being whipped, he didn't know where he'd be without her. He couldn't picture his life without her. He didn't want to. 
Jax brings the drinks over to the table and sits in the empty chair next to Y/N's handing her bottle of water to her. She leans in close to him, kissing his cheek once again, and whispers "thank you" as he drapes an arm across the back of her chair. 
"Hey, where's my kiss?" Tig is heard asking. 
"Not here, but maybe if you ask her," Y/N chuckles, pointing to a brunette crow-eater who is gazing lustfully at the club's resident crazy while wearing next to nothing. "She might give you one." 
"You might be right." He smirks, looking in the direction that Y/N is pointing.  He gets out of his chair and moves over to the couch where the crow-eater is seated. 
After an hour and a few drinks, Jax glances at Y/N as Chibs walks away, finishing their discussion. He finds her looking back at him with a small smile and love in her eyes. Now that they are alone at the table, he smiles tenderly at her as everything around them fades, Y/N becoming his sole focus for now. He didn't want to admit it, but she had turned him into a love-sick idiot. 
"How are you feeling?" She asks, concern in her eyes as she takes in the faint bruise on the side of his head. Moving her hand from his leg, she reaches up and runs her fingers through his hair. This afternoon he'd been hit in the head by some thug the club had to deal with, earning him a nasty headache.  However, it vanished when he took a few painkillers before church. His headache was returning, and the loud music was not helping. 
"I feel wonderful," he says trying to ease her worry and kisses her to distract her knowing she'll see right through his bullshit. 
"You're an awful liar." 
"I know." He offers her a small smile. "My headache's back." 
"We don't have to stay. I'm beginning to feel a bit worn out, myself." 
"Let's go home," He stands and offers his hand to her, helping her stand up also. They say goodnight to the most of the club members before Y/N makes plans to meet Gemma for lunch the following day. As they exit the building and walk to her car, Jax hands Y/N the keys. 
"Take these and lay down." Y/N offers Jax a glass of water and some pain relief she'd snagged from the kitchen on her way to the bedroom. As soon as they walked through the front door, Jax made his way into their bedroom, stripped down to his boxers and climbed into bed while she double checked that everything was locked up and all the lights were off. He takes them as she instructed and leaves the half empty glass of water on the bedside table. 
He doesn't move from his upright position while he watches her undress till she is only wearing her bra and panties. 
His eyes follow her once more as she walks over to his dresser and picks out one of his SAMCRO shirts before entering the bathroom. A few minutes later, she returns wearing his shirt and with her face make-up free. He continues to observe her as she removes her bra, pulling it from the sleeve of his shirt and discarding it on the chair in the corner of their room. He moves to lay down as she climbs into bed, facing him. 
"How's your head?" She softly asks. 
"The pain is starting to fade." 
"That's good. 
"How are you feeling?" he questions, cupping her face and caressing her cheek with his thumb. 
"Amazing," she says as her eyelids close, relishing in the tenderness of his touch. "Though I was feeling a bit queasy earlier." 
He rolls onto his back to reach his bedside table and switches off the lamp. Y/N moves in closer and places her head on his chest. 
With his arm around her holding her close, he kisses the top of her head. "I know I never tell you I love you as much as I should, but I do love you." 
"I love you too," She smiles. His spoken 'I love you's' are rare but he didn't have to say it for her to know it's true. Every day, in the smallest things he does for her, he tells her he loves her.  
"I don't mean to turn into a huge sap but you're the most wonderful person I know," He kissed the top of her head again. "I don't know what I'd do without you or if anything happened to you." 
"I hope we never have to find out." 
"Me too." He sighs. A silence falls over them but is soon broken by Jax. "We should get married." 
Y/N sits up looking at him in the darkness, a look of shock plastered on her face. "You wanna get married?" 
"Yeah I do." he admits. They've never had the marriage talk until now. They hadn't had the baby talk before she got pregnant both times. "We have a good reason to. I love you, you love me and we're going to have a kid." His hand reached under the shirt she was wearing, his fingers brushing the skin of her belly.  
She smiles. "Okay, let's get married." 
Jax smiles back and pulls her down to him making her giggle. He runs a hand through her hair tucking a few strands behind her ear. "You really are wonderful." 
"Just kiss me already," she orders him. 
"Sure thing, Darling." he laughs and pulls her into a passionate and mind-blowing kiss that was bound to leave both of them breathless. 
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lfzyxf · 4 months
Note
Can you write fluff where Isaac takes care of his sick girlfriend? I got sick myself quite recently and would like to read something like this with my comfort character ~ 🙈anon
Hope you like this, honestly i don't think he'd have much experience but he would definitely do his best to care for you. Just Isaac being the best boyfriend ever.
Isaac Lahey x gn!reader Word count: 840 Masterlist
You really don’t have time for this. Everything has been going wrong once again, first, this weird deer runs into Allison’s car, then the windows at school break because a bunch of crows thought it was a great idea to smash themselves against it. And now you’re stuck in bed, 3 blankets covering you, including a heated one. Next to you is a mountain of tissues because you can’t be bothered to walk all the way over to the bin. And your bedside table stands full of half-empty medicine packaging.
You sneeze for what feels like the hundredth time that morning before groaning miserably. You can see your phone flashing once again from the corner of your eye but just like with most things today, you can’t be bothered getting it. You close your eyes for a few seconds before the sound of your door slowly opening makes you open them again, albeit barely.
“Did you die?” You hear him before you really figure out that he’s standing in your room. “Yes Isaac, I’m dead, I’ve died a miserably, lonely death.” He nods before really taking in the view in front of him. He sighs before quickly walking over to your bin and dragging it towards your bed. Making an odd-looking face he starts throwing away the pile of tissues and lying next to you. “I was wondering why you weren’t answering my texts, figured it had to be something close to dead for you to ignore me” he explains while laughing.
You snort before taking the bin away from him and shooing him away. He does as you request, only to plug your phone into your charger. “Are you hungry?” You shrug before nodding half-heartedly, “I could eat.” Isaac nods back before leaving your room, making you close your eyes and rest while you wait for him to come back.
Fifteen minutes later your door opens again, Isaac is holding a bowl with what you assume is soup and in his other hand is a large bottle of water. He opens the door further by pushing it with his hip, before walking back towards you. “A meal made just for you by the incredible chef Lahey, you’re welcome.” He speaks with some sort of accent you can’t quite place and a ridiculous look on his face, making you laugh.
“Oh, thank you kind sir-” you interrupt yourself by laughing again when he makes an extravagant bow. He puts the stuff he got you on the bedside table that stands empty before jumping into your bed and laying his head down on your lap. “Caught a cold?” He asks while playing with one of the blankets covering you. “Some type of virus, again” you explain rolling your eyes.
“What’s that- the third time? This month?” He says while laughing softly, but his hands move to hold yours softly. You nod in response, squeezing his hands before grabbing your bottle of water and taking a few big gulps. “Shitty timing, like always,” you say once you’re finished hydrating. Isaac shrugs, a soft smirk resting on his lips like it often does. “At least you’re safe here, no birds crashing against your window. No annoying twins running around.”
He moves to sit next to you now, handing you your bowl of soup before softly kissing the side of your head. “Don’t think too much about the others, they’re fine. You need to rest and get better” he says softly, playing with your hair as you relax into him.
It’s quiet while you finish eating, he’s grabbed your laptop from the corner of your bed to try and find something to watch. When you’re debating whether or not to do another rerun of your favourite show, Isaac’s phone starts ringing. He sighs before picking it up, “It’s Scott-” “It’s okay, it might be important” you interrupt him.
He lets out another sigh before picking up, you can’t hear what Scott’s saying but by the look on Isaac’s face, it’s important. You’re about to tell him to just go when he responds to Scott. “Look Scott, don’t you think you can do this without me? Call Derek if you need to but I can’t leave right now.” You hear some distant words before they say goodbye and Isaac hangs up, throwing his phone to the other side of the bed.
You look up at him with a raised brow. “What? Scott’s a big boy, he can handle himself for one night. I need to make sure that you are okay.” He puffs his chest out, almost acting proud of staying here with you. “Yeah, okay big guy- I really need some protection here in case a deer breaks in” you respond laughing.
He laughs, shaking his head softly so his curly hair falls back in place. “That’s what I’m here for,” he says before grabbing the forgotten laptop again. “And to rewatch this show for the fifth time.” You smile at him before snuggling into his chest, ready to watch your favourite show again.
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miya-rin · 2 years
Text
“oh cmon, you’re telling me you haven’t thought about dating me at least once?”
not again. “no atsumu, you dont think i have known you too long to not have realised how you act? i hate to say it but you just aren’t my type.” you’re lying. you have had a crush on him since your last year of middle school, however, miya atsumu may possibly have one of the most annoying personalities you have ever had the misfortune of coming across. for the past month he has taken pleasure in flirting with you to elicit a reaction and so far it hasn’t worked.
so far.
today you decided it was the perfect time to fluster him, i mean it would only be fair to flirt back with him after he has been trying to get your attention for so long, right?
“wow yn you’re going to break my heart, i get i can be a bit much but you don’t find me handsome at all?” the shit eating grin on his face somehow makes him look even more attractive, it highlights the warmth in his cheeks and brings out very faint crow’s feet that just look gorgeous on him. he’s making it way to hard now, you have to flirt with him.
“i mean you are very attractive atsumu, only an idiot would be dumb enough to lie about that.” you’re strategic with your moves, you have seen the way he reacts with his fans so you know the best ways to make him blush. simply placing your hand flat on his chest and staring at his lips for a few seconds is enough to give him a rosy complexion.
“you have such a pretty face, especially when you’re blushing, god i could look at your for hours,” oh he is red now, the plan is working. you start to run your hands down his abs very faintly, he can barely feel the touch of your fingers but he knows its there, he so badly wants to see where his stomach connects with you, but he cant seem to pull his eyes away from yours. “and don’t get me started on your voice, or that amazing body of yours.”
if he were to actually listen to what you are saying he would hear the very obvious sarcasm placed right in front of him, but right now he’s too busy trying to restrain himself from grabbing both sides of your face and kissing you in front of all his teammates. he feels your feather light touches start to ghost up to his head where your fingers make home in his yellow blonde hair, slightly scratching at his scalp in a way you know has him itching for more.
“yn…” he breathes out, he doesn’t really know what he would even say to you, but before he can even think of a sentence you’re starting again.
“and your hair, i love it, the way it compliments your eyes so perfectly, and how soft it is. i think—” your words are cut off by the ringing of the msby jackals gym bell, telling the team its time for a break from practice.
“oh, sorry tsumu,” removing your hand from his hair, he looks sort of disappointed, its cute to say the least. “i have to go help coach foster get the next activity ready.”
and so atsumu is left there completely stunned, a little sweaty and very red, although he claims its just from the intense practice. the only thing he can think to do is grab his phone and open the team groupchat to confess his dying love for their manager.
miya atsumu
holy shit guys
you’ll never guess what just happened
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