#he's such a good fighter.. and handsome too... kiss kiss kiss!

[silverselfshippingchaos]

THE WAY HE SPINS HIS SWORD AND THEN PUSHES UP HIS GLASSES...

[0mg-bird]

bombshell of the bau was soo good, I need more of those two pls!!!

Aghhhhhh thanks! Okay, upon popular demand, here’s a part two.

Bombshell Of The BAU~ Part II

Spencer Reid x Fem!Agent Reader

Summary: With all the attention you get, it’s hard to hide something as scandalous as what you and Spencer have going on. Often times, it comes down to stolen moments and too close calls.

But you don’t expect the team to find out the way they do.

Warnings: Tehehehehe. Okay, 18+ content, suggestive material, smut, MDNI, um they’re so cute! Morgan being a c!ck block on like too many occasions, slight voyeurism kinda?? Exhibitionism kinda? Two second mention of Reid’s addiction. Reader gets hurt by UbSub but she’s fine. Idk, enjoy.

“You sure you don’t want a drink?” Emily asks as she walks with you down the hallway.

You pull the clip from your hair so it softly falls down around your face. A sigh leaves your pouty lips that are long gone of lipstick.

“After the day I had? I’d much rather take a very long shower, order room service on Hotch’s dime and watch Sex and The City.”

Emily laughs. “That sounds pretty perfect to me. Hey, did Morgan really make you crawl up in that attic?”

A shiver runs through you. “I don’t want to relive that trauma.” You claim.

She rubs your arm affectionately. “Well, you try your best to recover.”

“I’m a fighter, I’ll be okay.” You say dramatically, flicking your hair out of your face.

Emily drops you off at your door. “Call me if you need anything.” She says.

“Aw, sugar, I can always count on you.” You place a kiss on her cheek, the way you always do as a goodbye to your female agent friends.

You dig the room key from your pocket and press it into the slot. Though, you don’t push the door open, you instead look to the elevator where Emily disappears in, headed down to the lobby where most of the team resides.

When the coast is clear, you briskly turn further down the hall, passing multiple doors until you come to stand at the right one. Sparing another glance over your shoulder, you raise your knuckle to the wood.

The door opens after two knocks, and that arm raised in the air is grabbed and tugged, making you fall swiftly into the room.

You let out a soft giggle, though it’s cut off by an equally smiley kiss.

The door clicks shut behind you as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Spence.” You sigh dreamily against him. “Long time, no see, handsome.”

He pulls back to look down at you, that lopsided smile you love so much, playing on his lips.

“I saw you this morning at the station.” He reminds, letting his hands roam up your sides to hold your face.

He’s learned how to be comfortable in his actions, knowing now that you aren’t going to push him away when he reaches out. For three months, the two of you have been hiding this well kept secret, and maybe it was wrong to keep something like this from the team but…

Both you and Spencer agree that it’s nice, having something to yourselves.

So that’s why the two of you steal away any moments you can, like being on the same hotel floor after solving a case.

You give a pout. “But I’ve been stuck with Morgan all day. He was so cruel to me.”

Spencer matches your rutted lower lip. “Oh, he was cruel, huh? How was he cruel, angel?”

You love it when he calls you that.

Your hand slips into the hair on the back of his head, it’s definitely gotten a little longer.

“Made me follow him all around town, boosted me up into an icky crawl space to search for evidence.” You explain, trying to kick your heels off.

“Oh, you poor thing.” Spencer jokes, his thumb rubbing your cheek.

“It was a miserable, miserable day.” You sigh, dropping a few inches in height once your shoes are off. “But I’m here now and let me tell you, I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

Spencer gets that slight blush he always does. “Have you?”

“Mhm.” You nod, pulling him down for another searing kiss.

Instantly, lips are parting and he’s tasting that unique-to-you taste of your tongue. Maybe it’s a placebo effect, but after awhile, he’s addicted to that sweet flavor that lingers on your lips.

You sigh and melt into him, ready to forget about all the work the two of you went through today. Taking your hand, you grasp one of his and bring it down to your belt. He gets the hint, then quickly tries to get you out of the clothes you can’t bear to be in any longer than you need to be.

While you pull his tie loose, he pulls the concealed carry holster from where it was tucked inside your waist band. He sets it on the nearby table, then pulls your shoulder holster off. You chuckle against him as you pull his own fire arm off and join it with the other two.

“So many guns.” You comment.

Without a risk in the way, he untucks your blouse. “Occupational hazard.” He adds.

Slowly, articles of clothing are making a home on the floor, and once you’re down to your underwear, you’re falling onto the bed with a laugh.

“You’re on my hair.” You wince.

“Sorry.” He adjusts, gripping your waist as he flips the two of you over.

Knees on either side of his hips, you’re free to do the thing you’ve been thinking about all day. Your favorite thing is the little gasp Spencer gives you when you first create a dizzying friction against him. You absorb it with your mouth on his, hands on his cheeks, manicured nails slightly pressing into his skin. You still haven’t figured out what flips inside of you, or what it is exactly that he does that makes your brain think ‘I want to eat him’.

“What time are we flying out tomorrow?” You ask, placing his hands on your hips.

His fingers flex into your skin, and drags you against his lap.

“7:00.” He answers, knowing how much you hate early mornings, and long flights home.

“I have a bone to pick with that Hotchner guy, I think he’s out to get me.” You huff. “He ships us out when the sun comes up, he puts me with Morgan all day, and he never lets me hang around when you’re doing paperwork in the briefing room.”

Spencer, much more brave now, trails his lips down your jaw and neck.

“That’s because you’re distracting.” He states.

You gasp. “I am helpful!”

“Helpful when you have your hand between my legs under the table?”

You giggle. “I’m helpful in more ways than one, baby, and you are no better than me.”

With a slight disbelief of his eye, he pulls away from tracing your pulse with the tip of his tongue, and shakes his head at you.

“How am I no better?”

You slightly tug at the ends of his hair. “Spence, you almost got us caught when you shoved me into the conference room on your lunch break and Emily was looking all over for me.”

He smirks, feeling all too proud of himself for that bold move. “It was my lunch break…I was having lunch.”

Ever since Spencer learned how much he enjoys his face between your thighs, it’s like he’s a junky all over again and can only go so long without making you fall apart for him. You remember thinking that there was no possible way the two of you could get away with it as he pushed your skirt up and sat you on the edge of the table, kneeling before you. You also remember thinking this was one of the hottest things he has ever done.

In the beginning, you were worried that he thought you only wanted sex. The sex, it’s great, it’s …well, it’s wow. But being with Spencer means laughing more than you ever have, spending days off together, holding his hand in public and going to as many bookstores as he likes. It’s all so much more than you ever had before.

At work, it’s the same as it’s always been, you shamelessly flirt and Spencer, being the victim of your sultry ploys, keeps stumbling his words and hardly ever raises red flags.

Sure, the team noticed that he’s a little more out of his shell, has more confidence about him, but they just think he started believing all those compliments you tell him. In all actuality, he just feels proud that he has someone like you in his life, whose socks end up in his laundry and who leaves lipstick stains on the collars of his shirts.

Fingers trace up your spine, raising goosebumps on your skin as they aim for the clasp of your bra. He’s getting pretty good at undoing the hooks.

But just before he can try to beat his time, a knock comes from the door.

The two of you pause, your lips pull back, your fingers leave his hair.

“What do we do?” You whisper.

Panting slightly from the lack of oxygen he receives when your tongue is slotted to his, he just shrugs. “Maybe they’ll go away.”

Just like that, your hips continue their motion and he’s going to free your chest.

Another knock.

“Reid, it’s Morgan.” The voice comes.

Spencer lets out a rather irritated huff, his eyes shut as he swallows hard, willing the man to just go away.

“Reid! Open the door.”

Nope, he’s not leaving.

“Son of a bitch.” He grunts.

“Oh, watch that dirty mouth, Doctor.” You tease as he pulls you off his lap.

He stands, running through mathematical formulas to try and calm down in his boxers. He scoops up a sweatshirt that lays on the back of the desk chair and pulls it on. In a panic, you roll off the bed and hide behind it on the floor, trying to be as quiet as possible.

“Reid-”

Spencer pulls the door open. “What?” He snaps.

Derek is surprised by his bluntness, but he takes in his disheveled appearance and is more confused.

“What were you doing?” He asks.

“R-reading.”

Derek looks at his bare legs. “Without pants on?”

Go away, go away, go away.

Spencer breathes out. “I was about to take a shower. Now, what’s up?”

Morgan folds his arms over his chest. “Everybody is downstairs, don’t be a loner up here.”

Spencer shakes his head. “I’m pretty tired so uh, I’m gonna turn in.”

Morgan looks at him for a moment too long. “You sure you’re okay? You seem…flushed.”

“I’m fine, Morgan, really.” He reassures.

Laying face down on the carpet for a few minutes while the two men hash out whatever it is Morgan needed to, you come to the realization that you’re actually exhausted. By the time Spencer finally gets Derek to leave, you’re sitting yourself back up on the bed with a frown.

“What is it?” His brows furrow as he sees your expression.

Never have you ever had a partner so attentive, so loving in every touch they gave you. But Spencer runs his fingers through your hair as you tell him how you long for sleep, and he reassures you that it was okay you weren’t in the mood anymore.

He brought your bag from your room to his, though you truly just fell asleep in a t shirt and panties.

In the morning, you pretend you were in your room the entire night, and you meet the team in the lobby, fresh faced and ready to fly home.

“What’s your plans for this weekend?” Morgan asks after discussing with Emily what she’ll be doing.

You, who is currently taking up too much space on the couch, look over at the pair and shrug.

“I’ll have you know I have a very hot date with my bathtub when I get home and a very big plan to clean my apartment.”

That was all a lie.

You’d be over at Spencer’s this weekend, you’d be spending all your time with him, acting like a normal couple in public, having dinner and he’d get flustered when you’d kiss him in public.

But the team can’t know that.

Spencer comes back from the back of the jet, only to see his spot on the couch has been taken by your legs. He stares at you for a moment.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did you want to sit here?” You innocently question.

“Yeah, I’d prefer to.” He nods, watching you smirk.

“All you have to do is ask nicely.”

“Please?”

You sit upright, planting your feet on the ground. “Always so eager to beg.”

Emily laughs, Spencer goes red in the face.

To them, it’s exactly how it always has been between the two of you.

He sits beside you, not too close, but your fingers twitch to reach over and touch him. Your nails go to your mouth instead to keep them busy.

Without truly paying attention, Spencer reaches over and tugs your hand away from your mouth and instead hands you a sucker he pulled from his bag.

It’s such a domestic act that though there’s nothing too suggestive about it, Emily notices. She clocks the behavior as something a little odd. Sure, you and Reid have always been close but since when has he carried around things for you?

Truly, you should’ve known that Emily would be the first to suspect something, but you continued on blissfully, believing that the team was so caught up in everything else that they wouldn’t catch what was happening right under their noses.

“The station was able to get us last minute rooms but there’s only four available, some of us are going to have to double up.” Hotch says nearly a month later on a case in a small Texas town you were only supposed to be in for the day.

But when the case turned into something far more complicated than anticipated, the team opted to stay for a bit longer.

The team shares a few looks as Hotch holds the motel room keys in his hand, all knowing that he wasn’t about to bunk in with Rossi anytime soon.

“I’m not sleeping with Reid.” Morgan declares as he begins to feel like it’s going to be assumed. “Make the girls share a room.”

All three of you begin to protest, knowing you’re fine with sharing but not fine with Morgan making that decision for you.

He holds his hands up in surrender.

JJ, always such a leader, looks to you. “If you and Prentiss want to share, I’ll bunk with Reid.” She sighs.

Spencer starts feeling like he’s a child again, watching his parents talk about custody, knowing one parent truly doesn’t want him.

The suggestion, though innocent, has your nails pressing into your palms. It’s a terrible idea in your mind, because here is a chance to stay with your golden boy for the night and it’s getting taken away.

“I’ll stay with Spencer, I don’t mind. Is that okay with you, Spence?” You turn to look up at him, innocent smile, sultry eyes.

“Oh, uh, yeah, sure. Fine- it’s fine with me…I’ll take the floor.” He stutters awkwardly, sealing the deal with a cricked smile that’s very Spencer Reid.

Hotch narrows his eye as he hands you a room key. “Keep the flirting to a minimum.”

“How can I when he just makes it so easy?” You joke, taking the key.

As you grab your bag, Morgan begins to uncontrollably laugh.

“Go easy on him.” He jokes. “He’s a romantic.”

“Morgan.” Reid sighs, following behind you.

“You have a fun sleepover! Hey, you still got that whistle? Yell fire if she gets to be too much!”

I glanced back at Morgan, shaking your head before looking to Spencer. “Come on, lover boy, I don’t bite.”

“Yes you do.” He mutters.

“Only sometimes.”

Hotch prays he’s not going to get an email from HR. He’s already hearing it from Strauss, a meeting needs to be set up for inappropriate conduct between coworkers, and everyone knows Garcia and Morgan aren’t the only ones to blame, not when you’re addressing Spencer as ‘handsome genius’ in work emails.

The door clicks shut and you turn the lock, letting out a sigh and taking in the modest room, everything decorated in a dated western fashion.

“Were you serious about taking the floor?” You ask, causing him to look back over to you.

“If you want me to, yes.”

Bless him and his gentleman qualities, it has you wanting to jump him in the most passionate way.

“Now, why would I want you to be down there when I’ll be up in the mattress all alone? Here I thought you had a high IQ.” You tease, opening your go bag. “You mind if I shower? You could join me if you want.”

The offer is tempting.

“I better stay here in case someone comes knocking, might be a little suspicious if we’re both dripping wet at the same time.” He says, feeling proud that he still can think logically, though it’s far too hard when you’re around.

A smirk pulls at your soft lips. “I thought I was the only one who knew anything about being dripping wet.”

Spencer becomes flush, his cheeks burning as he says your name, prompting you to stop your explicit behavior.

“Sorry, baby, it’s just so easy.” You come to kiss his jaw before finding your way to the bathroom.

The shower is warm and the low light in the bathroom is soothing, you rinse clean and shampoo your hair, making the steam smell like your scent. Spencer browses the minimal television selection, then fights his urge to unmake the bed because he knows you’ll want to adjust the blanket and sheets a certain way.

“The water pressure is surprisingly good.” You say after about fifteen minutes, coming out, releasing that waft of steam.

Toweling your hair, you come back to your bag to find your various travel lotions, though you don’t get very far because Spencer is looking at you like you just hung the moon.

“What?” You ask, slightly adjusting your robe with an unsure smile.

He smiles softly. “I just…it’s unfair how beautiful you are in every form.”

Your heart swoons like it always does when he’s around.

“You have no room to talk, mister.” You remind, abandoning the skin care and come to stand between his knees that he parts for you.

Your finger traces the line of his jaw as his hands gently place on the backs of your thighs.

“You’re so sexy with your hair pushed back like this. Did you start wearing it like this because you knew it would drive me crazy?” You ask coyly, half teasing, running your fingers through it.

“It’s getting long.” He says.

“Nonsense, I love it.”

“You love everything.”

“I love you.”

The two of you pause. Those are three words you haven’t exactly expressed often. It’s been said, in a ramble from Spencer where it just came out and you had beamed up at him like you’ve won a prize.

Now, you say it with certainty, and he wants to hear it again.

“I love you.” You say with more intensity, leaning down to where you have his face in your hands, holding him there as you kiss him.

“I love you too.” He mumbles against your lips.

You don’t pull away when he slowly reaches for the tie of the silky robe, you’d never reject him.

He’s already lost his shoes and socks, his tie and the top buttons of his shirt, but he loses more as you help him. Further up on the bed, you let the open robe fall off your shoulders, not feeling bashful as he studies you with his eyes.

Spencer could never look at you in anything other way than adoration.

“Hotch is dumb.” You decide in his lap, placing his hands on your hips.

“We’re taking advantage of the situation.” Spencer declares, face falling to your shoulder as you sink further down onto him.

“I feel no remorse.” You breathe.

This isn’t the first time you’ve had sex, the first time was a long time coming and it was perfect. So gentle and warm and everything the two of you craved. You laid in his sheets and traced the freckles on his skin and it’s a moment you think of often because you often don’t get them.

Now, you have a moment and are seizing it.

“You okay?” You ask with the drag of your hips.

“You’re heavenly.” Spencer proclaims, tasting the clean skin of your neck.

“Spence.” You gasp, getting the hang of a rhythm. “Fuck.” The word leaves your lips as soon as he thrusts up into you.

You and Spencer have always worked well together so this is no different.

It’s addictive, the feeling stirring in you, the shear pleasure washing over him. He knows a thing or two about addiction and he can confidently say that you make him feel far better than any needle in the vein did.

At some point, with your hands in his hair, mouth hot against his, and his grip moving you how he wants…

Your phone rings.

At first, you do your best to ignore it, but it continues in an annoying fashion.

“No.” You plead, trying to chase that oncoming feeling.

“Who is it?” Spencer breathes heavy as you reach for the device.

“Emily.”

His head falls in defeat, movements slowing, prompting you to answer.

You do your best to not sound aggravated as Emily asks if she can bring dinner by, but the idea of a burger does sound nice.

“Yeah, we could eat.” You state, free hand over Spencer’s mouth to keep him quiet as your slow movements continue.

“Let me know if you need anything else.” Emily states in a kind yet suspicious tone.

“Will do, thanks Em.”

You throw the phone away, overwhelmed and determined to reach the high that was slowly slipping away.

“I hate our team sometimes.” You determine, frustrated that you lost momentum.

Not so gently, Spencer adjusts you to be on the mattress, taking over when you threaten to call off the entire idea because there was a stumble in the step.

“They should just know not to call on the off chance two coworkers are breaking HR rules.” He jokes, entering you without hesitation, making you gasp out.

The roll of his hips is slowly bringing you back to the precipice at a dangerously fast rate, leaving your legs to shake a touch.

“Emily is going to be here soon.” You stress, digging your skull into the pillow.

“We’ll be done before then.” He assures, reaching his hand down to rub his thumb against your clit in a hot friction.

“Emily could stand here and watch for all I care.” You state, pleading for a release. “I just- I need it, baby, please.”

“I know, I know, angel, you’re going to get it.”

How could a man be so soft when he’s doing such dirty things to you? It’s a mystery you’ll never quite understand, but Spencer has always been a wonder, so this is to be expected. He’s coaxing you to the finish, letting you suck on his shoulder to keep your noises down.

And when it happens after the build up of waiting for weeks, it hits like a tidal wave, leaving you speechless, open mouth gasping silently for air. Spencer is shuddering and pressing his face into that space between your jaw and collar bone.

You half expect a phone call, some kind of urgent message that will ruin this moment but nothing comes. It’s just you and Spencer.

At some point after getting cleaned up, you lay side by side, limbs tangled. Your eyes threaten to shut at the way he traces the shape of your face.

“Sometimes I’m just waiting to wake from this dream.” He whispers, tucking hair behind your ear.

You hum. “It’s not a dream, that’s what makes this so great.”

He shifts slightly, tilting his head down to brush his nose to yours. “Sometimes I think it is, because in what reality am I really the person you choose?”

You don’t like that, it obvious on your face. “I’d choose you in every universe, even if you don’t choose me.” You say sternly, a hand pushing his hair back.

He likes when you’re genuine. Well, you’re always genuine, but you also always have a face on, one of coyness and humor. When you’re like this, emotionally bare, he likes you the most.

“I’d never not choose you.” He states before turning to kiss your wrist.

You want to comment about how romantic he is without trying, but Emily knocks like you knew she would.

The two of you spring up, thankful you’re already dressed. You take a calming breath as you head to the door, and Spencer quickly tries to straighten the wrinkled sheets.

Emily isn’t dumb, she knows something is different, but she truly doesn’t suspect anything yet, which is questionable because she has a perfect view of signs that indicate adult activities when she comes in to deliver the burgers.

She goes and tells JJ that the two of you act different, a little more guilty, but Emily doesn’t know for sure until a completely different scenario comes about.

Two weeks later, when you’re sent into a living nightmare. Hotch makes the call to send you into the Unsub’s house alone first, you do it without hesitation because that is just how you do your job when it comes to the life or death of three missing children.

“House is clear, I’m going down to the basement.” You say into the com on your vest, confirming your safety to the team.

But you speak too soon, the Unsub does something the profile was wrong about. Hotch sent you in there because he suspected the man to be submissive to confident women of higher standard.

Though you were cautious, you weren’t expecting the Unsub to attack you at first chance.

You do your best to fight back and get the kids free, but you’re completely blindsided. Who knows what would have happened if SWAT and the team didn’t storm in when they did.

When you sit in the back of the ambulance, in shock, a paramedic cleaning up the gash on your forehead, Spencer is there with concern and comfort.

“The kids?” You ask.

“They’re safe, they’re going to be okay.” He reassured, holding your hand between both of his.

“I didn’t…I should’ve-“

“Shh.” He frowns. “You did good, angel, everything’s alright. Do you feel okay?”

Your brows draw and you shake your head. “I don’t feel well. Do I look well?”

“You have a concussion, sweetheart.” He says, gently pushing your hair back behind your ear.

“Am I still gorgeous?” You ask in a dreamy voice.

“You’re always gorgeous.” He assures, cradling your cheek. “You’re just gorgeous with a head injury that you’re going to go to the hospital to get it looked at.”

Your eyes shut as you hum, the warmth of his palm runs through you. The two of you embrace gently, completely forgetting how casual you are supposed to be appearing.

The team sees it now, of course they do.

You’ll have to explain the secret you’ve been hiding from them later, but now you’re just listening to Spencer’s voice murmur to you, wrapped in his FBI jacket, fighting the urge to adjust his hair.

[slu7formen]

MDNI. luke castellan x fem!reader

luke, who was the biggest size kink.

warnings: clearly a size kink, kissing, unprotected p in v, fingering, (i guess) spitting, chocking, swearing, hair pulling, use of yn (once), kinda possesive!luke finger sucking

₊˚⊹♡

You have always been a small girl.

 Well... not small like less than five feet tall but, for your age-, you were a little-, short, some even called you petite. As a kid, you would always be the one standing at the front of the line, the one standing on the front in pictures, the one that always had to be carried on shoulders so you could see over in crowds, the one to be sat on multiple pillows so you would see over the table, but that was never a problem, and it didn´t change much as you grew older.

In fact, you weren´t even that small, or at least that´s what you think. You had a pretty good physique for being someone teased about their height all the time; skilled, a fighter, just like any other camper, you had defeated some monsters here and there and kicked some asses, certainly you were not useless. 

You were okay with it; your size, it was never something that bothered you or made your insecure. After all, you had a significant height difference with almost everyone at camp. During your first years there your half brothers and sisters would always joke and tell you to not take it personally when someone mistook you for a new camper, and, although you had always been a little bit self-conscious about it, you could deal with it. It wasn't something bad, no. It was actually something you found kind of funny at times.

But oh-, if we talk about Luke Castellan.

The first time you realized how tall he had grown, was when you accidentally bumped into him one afternoon around camp. You were talking cheerfully with your friends, way too invested on a story you were telling, so as you walked backwards, face directly to your friends, you turned around to walk correctly and you bumped straight into someone´s chest.

You stepped back, embarrassed, it wasn´t the first time it happened to you, and it certainly won´t be the last. But you looked up then, and your cheeks tinted the slightest shade of crimson when you realized it was him.

"Oh-, sorry, Luke" you apologize.

Luke was just coming back from sword training, looking all sweaty and tired as he walked to take a shower and change clothes. But when he felt you crash against him, he didn´t move an inch. He chuckled anyways, patting your head once as he said, "It´s okay, little one" with a casual and untroubled smirk. And then he just… walked away.

Luke didn´t see it, but your cheek flushed red the moment he called you that. Little one. He said it so casually, so smoothly, it didn´t even bother you.

  Your friends teased you about it for the next three days.

You´ve always known Luke, even became friends a few years back, then slowly darted away, but never really distancing yourselves from each other. You just became... the previous step of friends. And yes, maybe that´s why you didn´t realize about Luke´s sudden size.

When you had met him, years, years ago, he was a bit taller than most of the kids his age. Still nothing like a giant, but just a little taller than average. More slim, skinny, like a giraffe, sort of. But then he grew up, and the puberty hit him like a train, a growing height train. In just a matter of-, what? Less than a year? Like every young boy, they suddenly change overnight.

He grew a lot taller, but he didn´t look like all bones and skin anymore. No. His muscles had slowly been puffin themselves out, veins popping, skin tanning and features growing more and more defined.

Did I mention muscles? Gods-, muscles.  

It wasn't like he had the body of a pro wrestler or anything, but he was certainly... something. Luke was handsome, he had always been. But now-, there was something about him that drew you, the way his body showed every time he trained, or he helped around camp. His broad chest, his v back; broad shoulders with thick muscles that moved and fit as perfect as a puzzle and that all led to his slender waist, that slutty waist.

And his arms-, ugh! By the gods, those arms. With his veins and-, those big hands that wrapped oh so perfectly tight around his sword, or held a baby Pegasus so warmly, or squeezed around anything that made his biceps pop. At this point, you could only hope he didn´t caught you staring.

You didn't even know what it was that drove you so mad about Luke. He wasn't that special.

But still.

You tried not to think about it too much. It was as if he had just pressed a button and suddenly shifted to a whole different body. But Luke was not dumb, he kinda had his eye on you too.

He had a reputation among the girls in camp, all of them crushing over the golden boy, and he had accepted their offers, more than once. But there was something about you that he liked more, he was unable to pinpoint exactly what, yet. He just liked it. You had grown into a pretty girl, in a small, petite format. Luke didn´t know when he began to look at you-, in a more-, "aware" way.

It began as just a casual look, admiring how you were not that little girl anymore who couldn´t pick up her own sword, or was just too clumsy to prevent hurting herself with it.

“Has yn grown? She looks taller”

“Man, when has she ever grown?”

And he did it silently without realizing, his admiration going somewhere else; your looks, every curve, every feature. Then he stopped thinking of you as just the demigod who everyone made fun of at fourteen years old because of her height. A strong, determined young lady, that could stand for herself. It made him feel something funny, playful. How you had suddenly stopped being that small bundle of nerves that always got lost in the woods. But at times, he found himself a little distracted, like when you wore shorts -which was most of the time-, or something more-, shorter, revealing, he had to look away.

It was just an appreciation, not something serious. But geez, as much as Luke tried to keep his mind saint or clean, he couldn´t help it. He realized he was slowly wanting more.

Because he knew he could get more; it would just be so easy to pick you up, to hug you, lift you, hold you... like a rag doll.

He had seen you struggle when lifting something too heavy, or when reaching for something on the top shelf, he´d also seen you jump to try to reach it. And that thought ran through his mind, that thought of picking you up, placing you gently on the counter, towering over you-, he could use his strength on you.

It had happened before, in one of those fucking ridiculous situations in which you end up being paired up with him. You would whine and complain about how it wasn´t fair, getting paired up in sparring with someone that doubled you in any way possible, yet you would still put up a fight against the best swordsman, sometimes even giving him a bit of a hard time.

He still always won, of course, but you gave a good fight. And there were times in which he had to use his size to overpower you; a hand on your wrist, a sharp pang of his sword that would disarm you, a little purposed tug at your ponytail when he walked past you as you sat back down with the rest of campers. And the sight-, you looked so fragile underneath him-, in his hands.

He loved seeing how he could completely overshadow you just by standing there. To stand behind you, his chest to your back, making you small against his presence and bump into him because you never heard him coming-, how he could easily use one of his hands to completely cover your waist. Just feeling you, against him-, you felt so good.

Sometimes he thought about bending down to your eye level, and just wrapping his arms around your waist, placing you on a desk, a table, a tree trunk, and just resting his chin on your head, feeling the way you would melt into his chest and fit so perfectly.

But then again, his mind couldn´t help but dart to other places too...

How you could easily fit in his lap, how he could just pick you up so effortlessly, he couldn´t help but imagine placing his hand on you like you were a piece of porcelain, you were so fragile in comparison, he would be so scared to break you-, but he still wanted to. The way he could hold you down with one hand, or completely cover you with his body. Just take you, pick you up, and make you his-, his to own, it would be easy-, so, so easy. 

He began to try and blow off some steam, slowly. Gods, those touches drove you insane. The way he´d grab your hip to get you out of his way, to move you, to get you where he thought you had to be. Or the way he´d touch your lower back when guiding you around with his hand, making you follow his steps, making you need his touch. And the names he called you just to tease you.

Luke had a reputation with the girls, but never with a specific trait or common aspect. There was no type of girl that he liked, he would go with whoever caught his attention. But with you? You, there was something about you that just-, he was drawn to you like a powerful magnet. He started feeling urges, physical ones, that he never felt before with a girl.

And geez, he had to let you know, sooner or later.

He wanted- needed you to know. How you drove him insane, how he loved you so much smaller than him, delicate and weak, just so he could touch you, control you, make you his. How when a hand was placed on your hip, he had to keep it there just a little more, how when he touched your lower back, he just wanted to push you forward and trap you against a wall, guiding your around like a puppy. Like a toy.

And soon, he did.

The kiss was aggressive, hungry, fierce. Open mouths clashing against each other as your bodies embraced into the summer darkness of Luke´s cabin, which was empty. Sitting on his bed, -forcefully, you had to sat down because your neck was hurting from kissing him while standing up-, making out messily with your hands on his red cheeks and his hands on your waist, his fingers holding from the bottom of your ribs to your belly button.

It started out as a simple peck, then another, and another, soon turning into a full-blown kiss. A harsh and hungry one, a desperate one, and you were being devoured while he pulled you into his lap for you to sit. 

His lips didn’t separate from yours when he pulled the back of your knee for you to straddle over him. Soon his tongue was demanding entrance into your mouth, and you let him, opening for him with a little moan, and he took the chance to deepen the kiss. His hands began to roam on your body, wanting to make you completely his.

And he was turning slightly crazy. His big hands fit so right around your torso, like your frame was made for his large figure. He could just squeeze your ribs, your waist, your hips, and you´d be so perfect yet so small, like a puzzle. He had to control himself not to squeeze you any harder, but the thought of bruising your skin-, marking you, made him crazy.

It excited him, but scared him too. You were so small, soft in every aspect. He needs to be careful, to treat you like a feather. Your skin was weak, sensitive, if he squeezed, scratched, bit, kissed, every single thing would be on you, all over your body, marking you, and the thought of it made him go delirious. But his mind couldn´t bring himself to actually do it. You were far too delicate to have any marks left on you.

His kisses became more needy, more hungry and desperate as he held you against his chest, wrapping his arms around you.

He pressed his lips to your jawline, softly, then started to trail down. He wanted to slowly drive you mad too. Your fingers locked in his hair, tugging softly, as your head falls slightly along with a delicious little moan. His lips then pressed onto your neck. Plushy and pink lips wetting your skin hotly. If he pressed enough, he could feel your tiny, fast pulse against his mouth. His lips parted into open mouthed kisses, taking a hold of the back of your neck with both hands, like a vampire holding its prey.

"Luke" you shivered, a breathy laugh making its way past your mouth.

"Mhm?" He hummed against the crook of your neck, his teeth barely grazing your skin before he attacked with lovely kisses again.

"I´m not made of glass, you know" you say sweetly.

He lifts his head then, stopping his kisses. He gazes at you, almost analyzing you with his eyes.

"Maybe I want to treat you like you are"

His eyes dart down to your swollen lips, so full and inviting. He felt like kissing you again.

Your stomach fluttered. You knew he wanted to treat you right, to take care of you, because he was such a good person, right? But he was holding back, you could tell that too. "I don´t want that" you reply, "I want you to do what you want" you take a hold of his wrists, his hands loosely hanging, waiting for you to indicate him anything. "Touch me, feel me" you plea, placing his hands on your waist, opening up his fingers so he could grab as much skin and meat as he could, "Grab me" you say, lifting slowly and darting his hands to grab your ass over the fabric of your denim shorts. You leaned into him, leaving his hands there but placing yours on his chest. Your forehead pressed against his, "Gods, break me if you want to, Luke" you say in shaky little breaths.

Fuck-, fuck.

You couldn't know what that did to him, what those words meant to him. He groans at them, his eyes closing briefly as he feels your forehead against his. Your body was so close, so soft, all over. He feels his hands twitching by your words, on the way they were holding your ass, all he wanted to do was to squeeze, to kiss, but he also wanted to do as you asked, to just take and have.

He leans forward, stealing a quick kiss from your sweet lips before he darts back again, "I don´t want you to get hurt" he states. Luke was no beast, he knew that. He wasn´t someone that would get too freaky in bed either, but-, he felt something with you, some weird possession and forceful thing that wasn´t totally making him think straight.

"I can take it" you say to him, fixing a messy curl that had fallen over his eye. "Isn´t that what turns you on, anyway?" you suggest, a devilish smirk painting your face. "How I look next to you, being able to control me" you whisper. You pressed yourself against him, rolling your hips against his crotch, the friction pressuring deliciously against you. You sigh, "Can´t deny I like it too"

Well. That hit home.

He is about to protest some more, about to bring you, to explain how you were so small, so precious and fragile that he could never bring himself to hurt you, but then you roll your hips against his and all of his arguments are lost. His breath gets stuck in a harsh exhale, a soft gasp, and his fingers suddenly twitch against your ass, hard and demanding, just like you asked him to.

He swallows thickly. His hands finally start to squeeze, pulling you in, pulling you out, guiding your movements.

How could such a tiny girl like you have that dirty mouth, huh?

His mind was suddenly clouded with the way you spoke, the way you felt, the way you looked on his lap. He wanted to tease you about it, to ask you where you learned to speak like that but-, his mind was too busy to think straight-

He leans forward, smashing his lips against yours, kissing you hard and deep, as his hands start to wander and tug. He could kiss you for hours, hold your face in his hands as he caressed softly, squishing your full cheeks. But he was getting tired of it. His cock has been painfully hard for minutes, he needed to do something else.

Your kiss felt like oxygen, but it burned like hell.

He doesn´t hesitate into lifting you up. Shit, he didn´t even need to use both hands to do so. He places you onto the bed softly, straddling over you. It was so fucking easy, so effortless, you were like lifting a feather. Seeing you on the bed, beneath him, so cute under him, his mind was on the verge of going dark.

He gazes at your neck. Your pulse, fast yet thin and weak. Your cheeks, flushed red from excitement. Your collarbone, delicate and soft. He places his lips there then, pressing softly as his hand starts to travel under your tank top, rough fingertips brushing against your soft skin. He stops at your ribcage, holding it tight as his thumb pressed dangerously close to your underboob. He squeezes, hard, and you moan softly. It was so fucking hot, and it was barely anything. His head is buzzing. What else could he do with his hands? What more could you give him, what more could he take from you?

Clothes started to quickly dissapear, and the more you revelead your body to him, the more insane he became. You were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. So soft, so pretty, he wanted to hold, bite, lick, suck, touch, kiss, everything. All over your body. There was a certain sense of admiration when he looked at you, you were so precious, he felt breathless at the sight. You were the prettiest little doll. He wasn´t even sure that you would break if he squeezed too hard, but your body would just mold into his hand. Luke´s mind felt blurry.

"Such a pretty girl, huh?" he moaned to you, a hand pressed around your neck as his other one was too busy stuffing his fingers inside your cunt.

You moaned lowly, barely able to nod. The tip of his fingers were rubbing the exact spot that was making you see stars, and that had Luke grinning down at you. The stretch was delicious, the pressure was amazing, he was so long and his fingers were so big, the way his palm was brushing your clit, as the other one pressed just right on your neck. His hand covered you so perfectly, not even a single piece of your skin visible in between his fingers. He felt the way your voice vibrated, the way you tried to moan, the way the air came out of your throat in a wheeze. And that did something to him. It did something, to have all that control.

One of your hands takes a hold of Luke´s wrist, his fingers pressing deliciously against your pulse.

He loved how fragile you were.

You felt so weak and powerless. He could do anything to you, and there was nothing you could do. You could never escape his touch, you could never overpower him. And the more he thought about it, the more his cock twitched. He was so strong, his muscles popping and tensing every time he moved. He only needed a single hand to pin you down, and the idea excited you. Luke could break you in half if he wanted to.

But he would never stop being so mesmerized about yourself, ever. The amount of things he wanted to do, the amount of times he thought about corrupting you, to take you, to destroy you, was just a vision and a clear proof about how much he wanted you. Maybe it was physical, maybe it was not, but Luke was surely gonna be there for when he had to pick up your pieces.

He was gonna make sure no one could ever touch you the way he did, not anyone.

"You like that, baby? Does that feel good?" He says, his voice sounding more raspy and low, filled with lust.

"Please, Luke" you plead softly. Luke´s eyes are mesmerized by the sight of your cunt swallowing his fingers, coating them in your arousal. "Can you fuck me?" you suggest. Gods-, you were so beautifully vulnerable and so filfthy like this; pressed to the mattress due to his weight, to the pleasure and the overwhelm. Your half naked body, glistening with sweat, chest going up and down rapidly.

Luke chuckles, shaking his head slowly, "What if I don´t?" he teases. You know he´s doing it, that he finds it amusing how much you want him, but the thought of him actually not taking you right now is anything but pleasant. You let out a whimper, fingers gripping on his sheets, feeling his fingers go in deeper and deeper.

"Please- please, fuck" you whimper, and Luke can't help but think that you sound even better when you beg, when your voice is so high and needy, so desperate. "I need you to. I want it, please"

Your body is begging him for more, to be fucked, and he wants it, oh he really does. But he likes to have his fun too. He slowly removes his fingers from you, staring at the coating of your arousal around his digits. You catch your breath for a moment, thin pieces of your hair sticking to your face and your lips all cherry looking, whether it was for the kissing, the biting, the talking, Luke was obsessed with it all. He brings his fingers to his lips, but he stops and asks; "You wanna taste?" with a subtle lift of his eyebrows.

You don´t know what to say. You just stare at him, eyes darting from his face to his fingers, unsure of what to answer. Luke finds it adorable. You´ve never done such thing, and you most certainly didn´t expect for someone like Luke to ask you either. So you nod slowly, still a little unsure, but knowing that this wouldn´t bring any harm.

He hums, slowly placing his two fingers into his mouth, wrapping his lips around them and sucking. He licks them clean before leaning down towards you, forearms pressing around your head as his face gets closer to yours. You get the hint.

Your lips part and Luke kisses you, slipping his tongue into your mouth easily, passing the taste of yourself through his spit. It quickly pools inside your mouth, yet he doesn´t want to let you go, lips pressing against yours constantly as his tongue working its way in between them. He can taste the sweet mix of yourself and him.

When his lips part from yours, you swallow.

"Good girl" he praises, cupping the side of your jaw with a hand, briefly pressing his forehead against yours, your breath crashing into his face. "Now turn around" he murmurs.

He doesn't let you a chance to question his intentions, one hand wrapping around your waist in flipping you over, laying you on your stomach. It was so easy to mannhadle you like that. And it was exciting. Luke takes a moment to admire you, his hand roaming over your body. You squirm impaciently, feeling his hand traveling all over your ass, his fingers spreading and digging into the meat of your thighs.

He pulls slightly up at your hips, your pelvis lifting from the mattress, the dip of your back only arching more, your hair sticking to your sweaty skin. He holds you there, in place, and you dip your head into your forearms, feeling the heat quickly travelling to your cheeks. You felt the head of his cock poking at your entrance, and you whine slightly. Luke doesn't do anything, doesn't say anything. He just rubs the tip against your folds, wetting himself and teasing you. You hear him sigh, "If it hurts too much, let me know" he murmurs.

But he´s already too excited, too impatient. He presses in, slowly sliding inside you, inch by inch. You whine loudly, gripping onto a pillow as Luke stops midway. "Fuck" he breathes out, hands pressing to your waist, he needed to hold onto something, some part of you, "You´re fucking tight" he says. He stays there for a moment, breathing loudly, big hands holding your waist deliciously, his chest glistening with sweat.

"Don´t stop, Luke. Please" you say.

And he can't believe you.

He felt as if you were trying to drive him mad on porpuse, out of his control, his sanity. How are you even real? He could've stopped, but then, he would be a terrible person. How could he deny you that, how could he stop after hearing those words? How could he break your little heart when instead he could break you?

He continues then, pushing the rest of the way in, slowly. He has to hold his breath to do so, because he´s holding back. He´s holding back so fucking hard the way he wanted to already slam into you and just take you.

You let out a moan, and he can't help the way his cock twitches inside you, the way he groans. "I know, I know" he cooes with a smile on his face. Because he can´t help it, he´s enjoying this so fucking much. Luke caresses softly the dip of your back, with his dick is buried inside you, stretching you deliciously, your walls only tightening around his lenght. He presses his hips against your ass when he´s all the way in, and you moan just a little bit louder. He chuckles, "I really hope that´s not all you´ve got for me, sweetheart" he teases.

You let out a little laugh, and Luke loves it. The way you can still smile, and tease, even if you are being completely destroyed —or maybe not quite yet—. You are so full, so stuffed, you can't think of anything else but his cock.

He starts to thrust, slowly at first, trying not to be too rough. He´s good with it, careful not to press his palms on you with too much strenght, not leave any marks on your sensitive skin. He looks down, the sight of his cock pulling in and out, in and out, covered in your glistening arousal as a thin white ring traces around the base of it. His mind is going places, anticipating what´s to come, he´s driving himself mad. You were driving him mad. So he tries to relax, he closes his eyes, throws his head back for a moment, darts back down at you.

 But fuck-, the way you just swallow him completely, the way your body feels beneath him. He wanted you for life now. He can't help but quicken his pace. You moan softly, and it just makes him want to hear you more, to make you feel him. To see you in a state in which he was the only thing that mattered, the only thing that existed. He didn´t care if anyone heard.

"Fuck, I love how good you take me, yn"

He praised. He praised you so much. You loved it, he loved it. Your body is buzzing with pleasure, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. His hands were pressing and squeezing and pinching, leaving red marks everywhere. He was losing himself.

But your thighs slightly burn, your knees hurt, and the bed is starting to creek, a squeaky and sharp noise echoing around the room. You can´t help it, you fall flat onto the matress again, but Luke doesn´t pull you back up. No. He follows you.

The mattress dips with his weight, his chest pressing onto your back. "I got you, baby" he whispers hotly, his arms coming to wrap around you. His hips keep rocking against you, pumping his cock in and out of you just easier every time, sloppy and dirty. It tightens on your lower tummy every time he thrusted in, the head of his cock hitting that spot, one you were not even sure someone else had done before. Luke presses his lips to your back, wherever he reaches as he flips your hair away. The taste of your skin against his lips is addictive, he can´t help but bite onto your shoulder when his mouth reaches it.

His head reaches your side, your moans intertwining with his own. "Such a pretty, pretty girl" he keeps mumbling, praising, encouraging you. It feels too good, and you can't help the whines and cries that fall from your lips, the way you grip the pillow under you, the way you cry his name like a mantra. You can't think straight. His lips are on your skin, his body is covering yours, his arms are wrapped around you. Everything is so tight, so intense. He has to hold on so hard, his arms squeezing around you like a snake, trapping yet holding you.

But of course, he´s Luke. He doesn´t think like it´s enough.

With his plumpy lips pressing against your neck, a hand creeped closer to your face. His thumb pressed against your lower lip, pulling down. You closed your eyes, the movement being so intimate it felt unaffiliated to what was actually happening. But just like that, and with his teeth grazing over the flesh of your neck, his palm carressed your jaw slowly, and then it rested on your throat, threatening to squeeze again, and the idea excited you.

But he didn´t stop his track there. It travelled up slowly, and then his hand was unable to reach your neck, but the rest of his arm was. You felt the pressure of his bicep on your throat, pulling up slightly as his other hand held the back of your head, fingers pulling at your scalp. Luke wrapped his arm around you like a snake, pinning you on a headlock.

"Can you take it?" He asked. His voice sounded low, raspy and needy.

You nodded, a dumb decision for when you were so limited of movement, a little moan escaping past your lips. "Yes" you breathed out.

He smiled against your hair. "Good"

Your pulse was thumping rapidly against his arm, your skin tingling under the sensation of his touch. Luke couldn't help the way his cock twitched inside you at the feeling of his arm wrapped around you, hearing you struggle for air, and he wasn´t even pressing that hard. At the way his fist was dissapearing on your hair, the way your neck strained due to the position, the way your body went limp against him, how pliable and delicate and vulnerable you were, and how pretty, fucking beautiful and eatable, even in a situation like this, where everything was dirty.

The sounds of his wet cock inside you, your strangled moans and whimpers, his own. The smell. Gosh, the smells. Your skin, your hair, your arousal, his. The room was just full with him, the scent of sex and sweat. And it was so fucking delicious, how could someone feel so good?

His arm tightened slightly around you, not enough to cut your breath, not enough to maybe bruise you, just a little pressure that was making him go insane. And his hips were rocking deeper, the rhythm faltering as he chased his orgasm. He couldn't help the groans, the moans, the sounds.

"Shit, fuck, I'm gonna cum" he groaned.

The idea of him releasing himself inside you was making you feel crazy. You had been teetering on the edge for a while, not knowing when to jump. "Luke" you manage to moan out, "Cum inside" you beg, and Luke feels as if the air was cut short. And it sounded so fucking needy, the way his name rolled out of your mouth, and the head of his cock is pressing deliciously against your g-spot. Your legs were starting to shake. He was so big, so deep inside, your head was spinning.

His hips buckled, a groan slipping from his lips. His orgasm was close, he felt it in the pit of his stomach. He felt you clench around him constantly, he even wondered if you were doing in on purpose. You felt the heat too, like a tight rope threatening to snap inside you if Luke kept moving like that, fucking you like that. He was relentless, his hips were slamming against you, his arm still wrapped around you, his hand pulling your hair.

You still felt so tight.

It felt like heaven. Luke was holding you, and he wasn't letting go. He had the whole control, the whole power. He was fucking you so well, so right, hitting all the right spots, making you cry and beg, and his hand was on your hair, your neck, your body, everywhere. It hit you soon, so good and intense you couldn´t even moan anymore, silent sounds and heavy breaths escaping from your lips.

You came hard, the knot finally snapping and letting all the tension and the heat loose. Luke felt it, how you clenched around him, and it was almost painful. You went limp against him, just the sight and the knowledge of knowing he did that, it was the end of him.

Luke came right after.

He couldn't help the loud groan that left his mouth. The way his hips stopped its movements, how his cock twitched uncontrollably and released himself deep inside you. The warmth and the feeling of filling you up was intoxicating, and his arm loosened up. His whole grip loosened, and it was like letting a feather fall.

You felt like a cloud, how all the pleasure was just overwhelming. Luke was panting, his forehead pressing against the crook of your neck as his arm still lazily hung around your body. Both of your chests were rising rapidly, trying to catch a breath. You felt the soft puffs of air leaving his nose against your skin, his lips brushing, his sweaty body sticking to yours.

And this felt so good too.

And he held you like that for a moment. Your vulnerable size, spent and tired, against his. You were breathing slowly now, and his fingers were lazily stroking your hair, brushing the locks away. His arm was gone, but his other one still embraced around you. And then it hit him again, he felt it again, the reason why his mind started racing in the first place with all his dirty thoughts. Because you were so small, so cute, so delicate. The way your skin felt beneath his, the way you molded perfectly on his arms, the way he was able to hold your body in his hands.

He was like a human shield, even though he wasn´t intending on to be one. It was a thought, a simple, yet powerful one. Because he could protect you, and he could also destroy you. If he wanted to, if he lost himself, he could break you in half again.

You laughed softly suddenly, "Still wanting to treat me like I´m made of glass?" you teased.

"Shut up" he smiled against the side of your face. He was happy that you couldn´t see him, because he couldn't help the blush.

He knew the reason. That his thoughts were racing and his mind was going blank with all these fantasies because he liked it, he loved it, he loved the feeling of holding a pretty little thing like you. A tiny thing, so precious and soft, just to break it apart, to tear it and to make it his. To treat you so carefully and build you back up, just to tear you up again. To have you. "What the fuck am I supposed to do with you, huh?" He said.

"Fuck me" you replied so casually.

He snorted. "You really are a slut, aren't you?" He teases. He shifts then, turning your head towards you so he could see your face better. "I didn´t know you were this dirty, little one"

"Mhm" you hummed. He was teasing you, but his words were still making your stomach twist. "It´s all your fault, you creep"

He smirked briefly, his lips pressing a soft kiss to the corner of your lips. Then he pulls away, eyes darting to your mouth. They are red, swollen, and plushy. He brings his hand then, his thumb brushes over the bottom one, just like it did before. "Can I?" He asks.

You nod, and the tip of his thumb enters your mouth. Your tongue wraps around it, the warmth and softness of your mouth inviting him in, and he can't help but imagine it around his cock-,

Fuck, he was doing it again.

So he pulls it out, the same hand holding your hip, pulling you just a little bit closer to him with the slightest movement. "My little one" he murmurs, and you look with such wet and seductive eyes.

He was getting hard again. Oh, he was so going to fuck you dumb, real dumb.

[kissitbttr]

short mma!toji and his pretty pop star girlfriend being cutesies!

—

“let me see baby!” you rush in pure excitement with your skin tight leather pink dress and white gogo boots, wanting to see your man in makeup for your newest music video release,

it took a while for him to finally agree, because could you imagine having the number one world class fighter to be in his girlfriend’s girly music video? my god, the sports entertainment would probably laugh at him.

but seeing the look in your doe eyes was enough to make him fold. plus, his manager shiu and the PR team thought it would be a great idea anyway.

“he doesn’t want you to see him like this, y/n” the makeup stylist laughs as she opens the door slightly to poke her head out,

you pout at that, tip toeing to see whether or not you can catch a glimpse of him. “well that wouldn’t make sense! because we are starting in an hour! toji, can i come in?”

“i look so ridiculous, ma” he calls out with a grunt, head shaking as he eyes himself in the mirror. the fake bruises and cut lips makes him scoff. “these are so unrealistic, real battered face look way worse than this”

rolling your eyes, you thank the makeup stylist before going in. the moment you see his reflection in the mirror, a gasp flies off your mouth. seeing your boyfriend perched on the small chair, his large muscled body adorned in a black tank and dark jeans. handsome face touched with bits of makeup that makes it look like he had just gotten off a street fight.

oh dear, he look fine as hell.

he notices your stare, causing him to smirk and chuckle. “come e’re baby girl” his hand pats his meaty thigh, waiting for you to come near,

“babyyy” you giggle, practically skipping towards him before wrapping your arms around his neck from behind. “you look so so handsome” a squeal spills from your lips, before attaching them against his cheek. leaving a sheer stain of lipgloss,

his arm circles around the back, resting a hand just below her rear. “do i? i feel ridiculous. i’ve never had a makeup on before”

you nod, perching yourself on his thigh before he secures both arms around your waist. “you don’t ji-ji! you look just like a movie star already!”

he laughs at your compliment, kissing your neck. “thank you, ma”

“are you ready? the director wants us out now” you tilt your head to the side, thumb going up to remove the stain off his cheek,

he nods, running his hand through his hair. “ready as i am doll”

—

toji was in fact, not ready.

because how the hell was he supposed to act right with the cameras rolling when his girlfriend look that fucking good enough to eat?

the cups of her dress pushes her tits upwards to make them look fuller, and her plush thighs were wrapped tightly with white garters that all toji wanted to do was to pull them off with his teeth. his eyes keep falling at the sight of her pretty lips too.

was he supposed to just let it slide and still follow the script?

“toji, for the last time” the director grumbles, feeling irritated at the repeated delay because of the fighter’s mistake. “your hands should be on her face—not her ass”

he emphasizes on the last word while glaring at the man. you could only giggle seeing your boyfriend getting scolded, though you reminded him prior to be on his best behavior,

however toji is known to be a man who hates to follow simple rules,

“can you blame me?” toji’s hands squeeze your ass harder while looking at the director. “my girlfriend is hot as fuck, and you’re telling me you’re not tempted by that?”

“i wouldn’t know motherfucker, i’m gay”

toji could only snort, pulling you closer to his chest. “my bad, man i’m sorry” you reach up to kiss his jaw, and it only makes toji to yearn more of your touch,

“now—what should i do again?” he asks for the hundredth time that day,

the director rolls his eyes, but decides to answer anyway. “look into her eyes, hands on her face. she’s going to sing the lines to—toji fucking fushiguro, hands off her tits! that’s not how it’s supposed to go!”

-

@spideyyeet inspired me to make this one😩🩷

[kaluaah]

up all night ᥫ᭡

warnings; overstim , penetration , fingering. did not proof read ♡

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹ ‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹ ˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•₊˚⊹

You could feel the tension crackling in the air as you sat beside Rengoku at the bustling inn. The two of you had been traveling with a group of Demon Slayers, but your relationship with Rengoku had been... frustratingly tame.

He was always so considerate, so gentle. He treated you like you were made of glass. Sure, you loved his warmth, his tenderness, but there was a part of you that craved something more primal, something more intense.

As you sat in the dimly lit room with the group, you caught the eye of one of the younger slayers, a tall, broad-shouldered guy with an easy smile. He was handsome, and you could sense his interest from the way he kept glancing at you. Perfect.

Your plan formed in your mind as you leaned forward slightly, your voice sweet and low as you asked the guy,

"So, you’re new to the corps, right? How are you adjusting? Must be hard keeping up with all these seasoned fighters." He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully.

"Yeah, it’s been tough, but I’ve had some good guidance. You... seem to know your way around too. Maybe you could give me some tips sometime?"

You could feel the tension crackling in the air as you sat beside Rengoku at the bustling inn. The two of you had been traveling with a group of Demon Slayers, but your relationship with Rengoku had been... frustratingly tame.

He was always so considerate, so gentle. He treated you like you were made of glass. Sure, you loved his warmth, his tenderness, but there was a part of you that craved something more primal, something more intense.

As you sat in the dimly lit room with the group, you caught the eye of one of the younger slayers, a tall, broad-shouldered guy with an easy smile.

He was handsome, and you could sense his interest from the way he kept glancing at you. Perfect.

Your plan formed in your mind as you leaned forward slightly, your voice sweet and low as you asked the guy, "So, you’re new to the corps, right? How are you adjusting? Must be hard keeping up with all these seasoned fighters."

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully.

"Yeah, it’s been tough, but I’ve had some good guidance. You... seem to know your way around too. Maybe you could give me some tips sometime?"

You laughed softly, letting your hand graze his forearm. "I think I could manage that."

You didn’t need to look at Rengoku to feel the change in him. His usually bright aura dimmed slightly, his posture stiffened. You could feel his gaze burning into you, but you kept your focus on the younger slayer, flirting just enough to push Rengoku’s buttons without crossing the line.

Rengoku was silent for the rest of the evening, but you could feel the jealousy radiating off him in waves. The second you were alone in your shared room, the door clicked shut with a quiet intensity that sent a thrill down your spine.

"What was that?" His voice was low, darker than you’d ever heard it.

You turned to him with an innocent smile, but before you could speak, he crossed the room in quick strides. His hands gripped your waist tightly, pulling you against him with a force that made your breath hitch.

"You think I didn’t notice?" he growled, his breath hot against your ear as he pushed you back against the wall. "You were flirting with him."

Your pulse raced, and you could feel your heart hammering in your chest. "I wasn’t—"

But your words were cut off as Rengoku’s lips crashed against yours, his kiss rough, demanding. His hands slid down to your thighs, lifting you easily, and you wrapped your legs around his waist as he pressed you harder against the wall. His usual restraint was gone, replaced by raw, possessive need.

"You want me to be rough with you, don’t you?" he growled, biting down lightly on your neck. "You want to push me like that?"

You gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders. "Yes," you breathed. "I want you to stop holding back."

Rengoku let out a low, dangerous laugh, his hands moving up your body, fingers digging into your skin. "You’ll regret it," he whispered, voice thick with desire.

He carried you to the bed, his eyes dark with jealousy and passion, ready to give you exactly what you wanted—no more gentleness, no more hesitation. Just pure, unfiltered-- well , filth.

You smirked, knowing you had finally gotten through to him. "Good," you whispered, pulling him down on top of you. "Show me."

Rengoku’s hands roamed over your body, his touch rough and insistent, a stark contrast to his usual gentleness. The heat between you built quickly as his lips found your neck, leaving marks that made you gasp.

“You like pushing me, don’t you?” he growled, his voice gravelly as he nipped at your collarbone. His hands tightened their grip on your hips, fingers digging in hard enough to leave bruises.

Your breath hitched, your body responding eagerly to the change in him. “I needed this,” you whispered, your fingers threading into his wild hair as you tugged him closer. “I needed you to stop holding back.”

A low, primal sound rumbled from Rengoku's chest as he slid his hand up your thigh, roughly parting your legs. His erection pressed against you through the fabric of his pants, and the sensation sent a shiver through you.

“Is this what you wanted?” he asked, voice dripping with hunger as he grinded against you, teasing you with the promise of what was to come. “To see how far you could push me?”

You could barely form words, your body arching toward him. “Yes,” you breathed. “I want all of you.”

With a growl, Rengoku grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head. His eyes burned with jealousy, with possession, as he positioned himself between your legs. The heat of his body, the tension in the air—it was everything you had been craving.

He tore at your clothes, the sound of fabric ripping echoing through the room, and you gasped as the cool air hit your bare skin. “You don’t get to tease me like that and not pay the price,” he muttered darkly, his hands trailing down your body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

You bit your lip as Rengoku’s tip brushed against your entrance, teasingly close. “Do it,” you whispered, your voice shaking with anticipation. “I need you.”

Rengoku didn’t need to be told twice. In one swift movement, he thrusted into you, filling you completely. You cried out, hisses at the pain , your back arching as your body struggled to adjust to the girth and length-- no matter the times you've had. He was rougher than he’d ever been before, each movement deliberate and powerful.

“Is this what you wanted?” he growled, his cock slamming into you with a force that made you gasp. “Is this what you needed?”

You couldn’t respond, your mind hazy with pleasure as he pounded into you relentlessly. Your fingers gripped the sheets, your body rocking beneath his, every thrust sending shockwaves of sensation through you.

Rengoku’s hands gripped your hips, pulling you harder against him as he lost himself in the rhythm, the jealousy and need driving him forward. His breath was hot against your ear, and his voice was a low, possessive growl. “You’re mine. No one else. Remember that.”

Your body trembled, your breaths coming in ragged gasps. “I’m yours,” you managed to whisper, your voice trembling as he drove you closer to the edge. “Only yours.”

With one final, powerful thrust, your world shattered, your body convulsing in pleasure as you cried out his name. Rengoku followed shortly after, his grip tightening on you as he buried himself deep inside, groaning as he came.

For a moment, the room was filled with nothing but the sound of your heavy breathing, both of you lost in the aftermath of your heated exchange. Rengoku slowly released your wrists, his hands now soft as they traced over your skin.

He collapsed beside you, pulling you close against his chest. The fire of jealousy had faded, replaced by a familiar warmth as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “You’ll never have to push me again,” he murmured. “I’m always yours.”

You smiled, your heart still racing as you nestled against him.

Rengoku’s breathing was still heavy as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, both of you coming down from the high of your release. You were catching your breath, your body still trembling with aftershocks, when you felt him stir again.

His hand slid slowly down your side, tracing your sensitive skin with deliberate slowness. You gasped softly as his fingers teased your overstimulated cunt, sending a jolt of sensation through you. “Kyojuro... wait, I—”

But Rengoku didn’t stop. He pressed a rough kiss to your neck, his voice husky and filled with desire. “You said you wanted all of me,” he growled, his fingers circling your clit in a way that made your body jolt. “I’m not done yet.”

Your eyes fluttered shut, your body overwhelmed by the intensity of the sensations. “I can’t...” you gasped, though your hips bucked instinctively against his hand. You had never felt like this before—your body was so sensitive, every touch from him felt like too much, but you couldn’t pull away.

“You can,” he murmured, his voice dark and possessive as his fingers sank into you, his thumb pressing hard against your puffy clit. You cried out, your legs trembling as he continued without mercy, ignoring your pleas. “You’re not leaving this bed until I’ve had every last bit of you.”

Your mind was spinning, your body caught in a cycle of unbearable pleasure as Rengoku’s hand worked you relentlessly. Tears prickled in your eyes as the pleasure built too quickly, too intensely. “It’s too much,” you whimpered, your voice barely a whisper as your thighs clenched around him. “I can’t...”

But Rengoku didn’t let up. He growled softly against your ear, his fingers sliding faster, rougher, as he continued.

But Rengoku didn’t let up. He growled softly against your ear, his fingers sliding faster, rougher, as he continued to push you toward the edge. “You’re going to cum again,” he commanded, his voice low and dangerous. “And you’re going to scream my name when you do.”

You could feel the pressure building inside you, and despite the overwhelming sensitivity, your body responded to his every touch. The pleasure became unbearable, your body writhing beneath him as you tried to escape the sensation, but he held you in place, forcing you to take everything he gave.

Your breath came in shallow, ragged gasps as the pressure inside you reached its peak. Tears spilled from your eyes as your body shook violently, your mind overwhelmed by the intensity of the pleasure. “Kyojuro—please,” you cried, your voice trembling.

But there was no stopping it. Your third orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, more powerful than the first, and you screamed his name as your body convulsed in pleasure, tears streaming down your cheeks.

Rengoku’s hand never left you, his touch unrelenting as he kept you riding the waves of your release, drawing out every last bit of pleasure until you were a trembling, crying mess beneath him.

Only when your body had gone limp, your tears still wet on your cheeks, did Rengoku finally slow his movements. His hand stilled, resting gently on your thigh as he leaned down, kissing away the tears that clung to your skin. “There you are,” he murmured, his voice warm and soft again as he cradled you gently. “You’re so beautiful like this.”

You were too exhausted to speak, your body still trembling from the intensity of what you had just experienced. You could only cling to him, your breaths shaky as you came down from the overwhelming pleasure.

Rengoku pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you tightly as he pressed soft kisses to your forehead. “I’m sorry I pushed you so hard,” he whispered, his tone filled with tenderness now. “But I couldn’t help myself. You make me lose control.”

You nestled against him, your body weak but sated, the sting of overstimulation fading as you melted into his warmth. “Don’t apologize,” you whispered, your voice hoarse but filled with contentment. “I needed you like that...”

Rengoku smiled, brushing your hair away from your damp face. “I’ll always give you what you need,” he promised, his voice soft and full of love.

He shifted you carefully, pulling the blanket over your bodies as you lay there, safe in his embrace.

The tears dried on your cheeks as exhaustion took over, your body and mind finally at peace. Rengoku continued to hold you close, his strong arms protecting you as you drifted off into sleep.

The last thing you heard before sleep claimed you was his soft, soothing voice. “Rest now. You’re mine, and I’ll never let you forget it.”

With that, you surrendered to sleep, knowing that you were completely, utterly his.

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notes: tryna be on a writing grind for kintober this weekend -- let me not die. so excited for my tenya smut @hawksdoll -`♡´-sorry for the lazy piece , had to get my Rengoku obsession out for a bit also this is NOT CANON RENGOKU

[gloryofroses19]

Johnny Boy

“Let’s go, let’s go. Get the lead out boys!” Major John Egan ordered as he clapped his hands together.  

“Excited to see Harding that much, Major?” Ken Lemmings asked rhetorically, parking his jeep. 

“More like a certain lieutenant.” Blakey commented, lighting a cigarette.  “All I heard on the flight back was [y/n] this and [y/n] that. Almost as if we weren’t staring down the face of Nazi fighters.” 

Coming up behind Blakey, Douglass slapped Blakey on the back.  “Don’t be too jealous Blakey, maybe Tatty will forgive you for saying her sister is prettier.” 

“It was a joke!” 

“Jokes are meant to be funny, Ev.” Crosby deadpanned from his place on the ground. 

“Get in the truck, boys! This war ain’t gonna stop because of your romantic problems.” John Egan was not known for being a patient man. And at this moment, his patience was as thin as his fort’s wings, which were currently shot to shit thanks to the Luftwaffe.  

“You know all about romance, right Major?”  

With an eye roll, the Major squared his shoulders ready to yell at his men. However, his irritated expression softened as he watched two figures coming his way.

Noticing the attentive blue eyed gaze across the field, [y/n] smiled as she drew nearer. She had not planned to visit the airfield today. Despite knowing that the 100th Bomb Group would be out flying, she had intended to stay in her office. But when Johnny asked, with a hopeful request and a sweet smile, she knew she couldn’t say no. She seemed to have soft spots for Johns she mused, as a pair of small hands tightened their grip on her right hand. 

“She read me a book and colored with me!” 

Bucky’s eyebrows raised at the British voice informing him of how he was losing the battle for [y/n]’s attention. Six year old Johnny Baker was as formidable as the Germans,  the blonde had met Lieutenant [full name] on his first day moving to base and imprinted on her like any good duckling would. 

“And she said that she’ll watch me play footy!” 

However, Major John Egan was a flyboy and they were not so easily defeated. Crouching down to be eye-level with rival, the major crossed his arms. “Well, she told me I’m clever, funny and..." With a dramatic pause, he continued, "and handsome.” 

Stomping his foot at his competitor, the blonde took on a tone of conceited immaturity. “Well she told me that I give the best hugs!” 

“Well,” John mimicked, “She kissed me.” And with a mischievous glint in his blue eyes, Bucky added in a lyrical voice, “On the lips.” 

With a gasp and whine of her name, the blonde buried his face into [y/n]’s stomach as her hands patted his back comfortingly . 

“Are you really arguing with a child?” She asked sternly, as John stood up. “Again?” She pressed, restraining the grin trying to surface at his easy smile. The times she had found them competing for her affection were becoming too numerous to count. Just last week, she had to kiss him better when he scraped his knee racing Johnny across the blacktop of the airfield.  She was thankful he was kind enough to let her kiss his lips instead of his bloodied knee. 

“No, I’m not arguing with a child.” John watched Johnny stick his tongue out at him, “He’s arguing with me.” With a chuckle, he mirrored the action back at Johnny.  

Alive and as charming and tenacious as ever she reflected, assessing his wellbeing . The weight of the war had become harder to bear on their shared tree branch as more flyboys left and didn’t come back. She hadn’t realized her breath had been stalled in fear of his safety until she felt herself lose it again by his adoring look. 

John ran a hand through his hair, enjoying the evaluating look on her face “So where’s my reason?” 

“Where’s my souvenir?” She responded, meeting his unwavering gaze. It had become their greeting, a promise of a gift that kept them both grounded.

Removing his head from her stomach, Johnny looked up. A pout sprouted on his lips as the adults seemingly ignored him, focusing instead on making what his big cousin Susie called “googly eyes”. With a tug to her hand, Johnny whined. “[nickname]!” 

John watched as [y/n] turned her attention to the baby duck calling her name. The blonde’s hair had become ruffled as feathers from his fight for her attention and John knew like any mama bird she would fix it. However, she wasn’t a duck, she was a different bird. His bird to be exact so the only hair she would be fixing would be his curls. Therefore, before her raised hand could fix the strays, an Army Air Corps Officer cap covered Johnny's head. 

Taking advantage of his enemy’s distraction, John’s hand gripped [y/n]’s face and momentarily brushed his lips against hers. While a moment on the lips, it spoke of tenderness, love and promise for more. 

“Hey!” Removing the cap from his head, Johnny glared at the taller male who seemed wholly unperturbed.  

“What?” The innocence in his smile and tone betrayed the mischief inside. The bashful smile he sent her all but confirmed [y/n]'s suspicions. That he did always love when she ran her hands through his curls. And that he was jealous, even of a child. 

“Interrogation, Egan!” 

Bucky sighed theatrically at the commanding voice behind him. Though the sigh was a sign of acknowledgement, he made no move to leave. If anything it made him more resolute. 

“Jack,” Facing his fellow major, John motioned toward the pair at his side, “The good lieutenant and this fine soldier need a ride back to the HQ.”

Major Jack Kidd could use many adjectives to describe John Egan, however, since becoming Air Exec the most he would offer was 'a royal pain in my ass'. “Now, John!” 

Though Kidd didn’t seem to be moved, John pressed on. “We can’t just leave them, Jack.” 

Biting her lip, [y/n] attempted to maintain a neutral expression. His baritone voice was as pleasant as ever, but the tone of pleading reminded her of times when he pleaded for other things. Some which he had no shame in doing in front of other people, like a dance or smile, and some that were reserved for just the two of them, like a kiss and other intimate notions. 

Turning towards the gentle tug on his sheepskin’s sleeve, John leaned down. 

“Can we ride in the truck?” Johnny whispered poorly, allowing those close enough to hear. 

“If you look sad you can.” John replied conspiratorially, enjoying the giggle it elicited from [y/n] who’s attention had been off him for far too long. 

“Get in the truck, Egan.”  Though Kidd offered John a look of utter lack of amusement, he sighed.  One day he’ll learn to not wipe John’s ass, Jack promised himself.  “You too,” he finished gesturing toward the pair.

Breaking out into a wide smile, John’s hands wrapped around [y/n] and Johnny’s shoulders. Guiding them to the awaiting truck, John pulled himself into the truck bed first. With his attention on Johnny, John offered instructions where to put his feet and hands to safely enter the truck all the while, his hands gently hovering his smaller body to offer assistance if needed. 

Unbeknownst, [y/n]’s expression was soft in a way she only ever let it be around John. War was not the time to think of a future full of little feet and miniature giggles, but John Egan was a man who inspired hope. 

“Need help, Lieutenant?” A deep baritone voice interrupted her thoughts.  Though capable and confident, [y/n] took the calloused hand that was offered to her. Allowing herself to be pulled into the warmth of the sheepskin, she brushed her lips against the corner of his mouth. 

“Think Cros can take him?” He whispered, nodding to the navigator currently being interrogated by the Brit. 

With a laugh, she guided John by the hand to his rightful place next to her on the truck's bench. Bumping her nose against his, she whispered, “You certainly weren’t.” 

John laughed gently and easily as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders before taking her hand in his again. Pulling her as close as they could, he leaned into her ear. Planning to defend himself, the pilot opened his mouth but stopped when a sudden weight dropped on him. 

“Johnny!” 

Ignoring the scolding tone, the blonde pushed his body weight against Bucky and wedged himself between the pair. “You forgot your hat, Major.” Johnny mocked, throwing his hat at the elder. 

“Why you little….”

A/N: Hope you guys enjoy! I appreciate all the positive feedback from my other works!

[nanawritesit]

Your Highness - Sanji x Reader: Part Two

PART ONE PART THREE

plot: you’re a runaway princess bride who finds her way into the straw hat crew. you expected one hell of an adventure, but you never expected to fall for the head chef. things get even more complicated when your father, the king, and your ex-fiancé send their troops after the going merry. now you must choose between surrendering to save your crew and being with the only man you’ve ever truly loved. but of course, the straw hat crew isn’t going to let you go without a fight. especially sanji.

—————

It was half past seven. The sunset was just beginning to pour through the windows on the sides of the ship, but you hardly noticed. All you were focused on was the clank of your sword against Zoro’s, and where you were going to place your feet next.

You began to notice that a sword fight was kind of like a dance. The two of you moved in perfect rhythm, twirling around the floor of the cabin and brandishing your weapons towards one another.

Thinking you were gaining some high ground, you jumped up on the counter. However your balance was off, and Zoro easily took your legs out from under you, causing you to flop down flat onto the counter. He held the blade of his sword against your neck, looking at you with a sympathetic smirk.

You simply rolled your eyes and sighed. “I can’t believe I lost again.”

He removed the blade from your neck and sheathed it back in its holder around his waist. “Maybe, but that’s the longest you’ve ever lasted sparring with me. And I don’t even have to hold back anymore.”

You straightened yourself up, holding your hands in your lap and slumping your shoulders defeatedly. “Yeah, but I’m still not very good at this.”

Zoro looked at you with an annoyed glare. “Don’t be stupid. You have great natural talent and raw strength.”

“Well, my father was revered as one of the best swordsmans of his time. Although, he’s nothing compared to you.”

He tried to fight the half smile that was creeping it’s way onto his expression. “Well anyway,” he coughed awkwardly, “stuff like this just takes practice. You’ve only been at this for a couple months now. So don’t beat yourself up too bad. The important thing is you can hold your own in a fight now.”

You winced. You still hadn’t actually fought anyone yet. You’d been sparring with Zoro for a little while now, but he was still the only one you’d ever fought. You didn’t quite now how you would fare in an actual brawl. The thought of attacking someone frightened you. You were about to vocalize your concerns, but were interrupted by the sound of footsteps pounding down the stairs.

“Zoro, may I please have my princess back now?” Sanji whined as he descended the staircase.

“Whatever.” Zoro rolled his eyes, pushing past Sanji to walk upstairs.

“I’ll never understand why you two don’t get along.” you chuckled, wrapping your arms around Sanji’s neck.

“He’s just jealous that there’s another handsome fighter on the crew.” Sanji mused, placing his own arms around your waist. “And that I have a beautiful princess in love with me.” He leaned down to peck your lips, and you met him halfway in a sweet kiss. “We’re almost to the village, love.”

“Okay, I’ll be up in a second. I just want to practice a couple more moves.” you responded.

He sighed and pouted his lips. “My dear, I think you’ve practiced enough today. I don’t need my girl getting all worn out. It’s not good for you.”

You gave him a sympathetic smile. “That’s very sweet Sanji, but if I’m ever going to be a good swordsman, I’ve got to practice as much as possible.”

“Fine…” he huffed, throwing his arms up defeatedly. “But don’t expect another massage from me tonight, I tried to warn you.”

—————

Once the crew had gathered all their supplies, you were all wandering the village square looking for either a place to lodge or a place to eat.

“It looks like we’re only going to be able to afford one of those.” Nami sighed, counting the rest of your guys’ money. “We sold Y/N’s last piece of jewelry to get us these supplies, and there wasn’t much leftover.”

Luffy suddenly sniffed the air and began running off wherever his nose was leading him. He finally stopped in front of a pub that looked like it had an inn upstairs. “Here.” he instructed.

“Luffy, we don’t-“ Nami tried to protest, but the captain was already bursting through the front doors. You all reluctantly followed him in, just to see him already bargaining with the owner at his podium.

“Come on, sir. We’ll pay for our rooms and then I’ll give you an IOU for dinner. I’m going to be king of the pirates one day, so I’ll be sure to pay you back.” Luffy suggested with an innocent smile.

“God, you never learn, do you, captain?” Sanji grumbled, rubbing his brow frustratedly.

“We do not accept IOUs as payment.” the owner huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “I can get you three bedrooms, but that’s all, unless you can find some other way to pay for dinner.”

You all looked at each other worriedly. You had to eat, there was no way of getting back to the ship until tomorrow morning.

Suddenly, a nervous looking waiter approached the owner. “Sir, the guests are growing restless without any live singing.”

“Give them all a free dessert.” the owner suggested, trying to wave him off to go back to your conversation.

“I already did sir.” the waiter mumbled anxiously. “They said that the band is great, but it really would be better with a singer.”

The owner sighed. “Well, I don’t know what to tell them. Dahlia quit on us last night, and haven’t found another-“

“Excuse me, gentlemen…” Sanji interrupted their conversation, making all of you stare at him curiously, “But am I to understand that you’re in need of a live singer?”

The owner nodded disappointedly. “Yes, we are.”

“Well here’s your singer right here!” Sanji clapped his hands on your shoulders and jutted you forward.

“Sanji, no!” you protested, turning around to hide your face. He just flipped you back around and brandished you to the owner.

“She has the most beautiful voice. I’ve heard her sing, it’s like a choir of angels.” Sanji went on, beaming proudly as he boasted about your talents.

The owner looked you over, then shrugged. “Alright. I’m desperate. If you can sing for our pub tonight, I’ll give you and all of your party free dinners.”

Your crew members all looked at you pleadingly. You could tell they were all as starving as you were, and couldn’t stand to see the hunger in their eyes. You looked over at Sanji. His icy blue eyes were swimming with confidence and sincerity. He gave you a nod.

“Alright. I’ll do it.” you agreed, squinting your eyes shut. The crew all erupted in applause for you, besides Zoro, who just looked up the ceiling in relief.

“Wonderful.” the owner mused, flashing a pleased smile at you. “You’ll have to change clothes, but other than that, you’re good to go. You’re so beautiful that I’m sure the audience will love you, even if you’re not that good at singing.”

You chuckled awkwardly. You heard Sanji click his tongue out of jealousy next to you.

“Well she is an amazing singer, so that won’t be a possibility.” Sanji refuted. He was smiling, but his eyes were shooting daggers at the man. “Could you show us where she can get ready? I’d like to accompany her.” You could tell he meant to say there’s no way he was letting this guy take you somewhere alone.

You just pressed your lips together to avoid smiling at how cute he was when he was jealous.

Only a few minutes later, you were being ushered on stage in a dress that wasn’t yours, and all eyes were on you.

You looked like a deer in the headlights, wide eyes shifting over all the members of the audience. You were at a loss for words. No one had ever given you permission to speak in front of a crowd. You finally saw the straw hat crew sitting at a table towards the back. They were all smiling encouragingly, none more so than Sanji. You looked at him for direction, to which he just gave you a small nod. “You’ve got this, your highness.” he mouthed.

He was right. You were a princess. You could do this. You swallowed the hard lump in your throat and cleared it, stepping forward with grace and nobility. “Good evening, patrons of the pub… You’re probably all used to a different singer, but due to some unforeseen circumstances, I’ll be filling in for you guys tonight.” You turned around and nodded to the band, who began playing your first song.

You bobbed your head to the beat, waiting for your cue. Everyone seemed intrigued and focused on you. Luckily, no one looked malicious or judgemental. Finally, you took a breath and began singing, the sound of your voice filling up the quiet room and bouncing off the walls.

As the song went on, and you got to showcase some of your most powerful notes, you received a couple impressed cheers from the audience. You smiled, gaining confidence, and got more into your performance.

Suddenly, your eyes locked in on Sanji’s. The way he was looking at you gave you chills. His eyes were sparkling with admiration and love, and his fingers rubbed loosely against his lips in an effort to contain the proud, enormous grin on his face. His smile was so wide it looked like it would break his face. No one had ever looked at you like that. And as your song ended, you felt as if you were the only two people in the pub.

You were snapped out of your trance by the entire pub getting to their feet and applauding you, happily giving you a standing ovation. You giggled excitedly and did a small curtesy, accepting their praise. You waved back to the crew, who looked so proud of their princess. Sanji looked like he was about to cry. You blew a kiss to him, making him laugh heartily.

You went on performing for another half hour, until the owner came out on stage between songs.

“Alright everyone, give it up for tonight’s singer!” he boomed, leading the crowd in applause. “We’re gonna give her a break, but she’ll be back soon!” You waved goodbye to everyone as he ushered you to your table with the rest of the crew.

“That was amazing. Your voice is just as beautiful as you are.” the owner smirked, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear as you sat in your seat.

You shuddered uncomfortably, glancing at Sanji nervously. He cleared his throat to settle the anger boiling beneath his calm exterior, then resumed a playful expression.

“Mr. Owner. While I’m very grateful for the arrangement we’ve made, I’m going to have to ask you to keep your hands off Miss Y/N. Otherwise, there will be consequences.” he hissed, a dangerous smirk slithering onto his face.

The owner backed away, clearly threatened, although obviously annoyed. “Understood. I’ll go check on your dinners.” He then sauntered off into the kitchen, leaving you to your crew, who all began praising you in unison.

“That was incredible, Y/N!” Nami beamed, shaking your arm lightly.

“Yeah seriously, you could be a professional!” Luffy grinned.

“We’re gonna have you sing everytime we go somewhere! We’ll never have to pay for dinner again!” Ussop cheered, patting you on the shoulder.

“That was really good.” Zoro said flatly. However, there was a look of genuine admiration in his eyes that let you know he meant it.

“Thanks guys…” you replied bashfully. “At first. I was so nervous I thought I was going to pass out. But once I started singing, I just kind of blacked out and went for it!”

“Well, you did a wonderful job, just as I told you you would.” Sanji praised, taking your hand in his. “You were brilliant, your highness.”

You blushed with a warm smile, not knowing what to say. However, you didn’t have to say anything, because the chefs began bringing your food and drinks to your table and setting them in front of you.

Luffy stood up, raising his mug in the air. “To the princess of the Going Merry!”

“To the princess of the Going Merry!” your crew all cheered, clinking their glasses together in a toast.

You all began devouring the plates of food in front of you. While the owner was smarmy and gross, he at least didn’t skimp on the portions. You were all lost in a spirited conversation when a jovial looking older man approached you.

“Excuse me miss, I’m sorry to interrupt your dinner…” he began, an interested glint in his eyes, “But I just had to tell you what an amazing performance you just gave!”

You smiled back at him, bowing your head gratefully. “Thank you, sir!”

“And how pretty you are!” he complimented. “Has anyone ever told you that you look strikingly similar to the eldest princess of Dacovia?”

Your heart sunk. It felt like this man just punched you in the stomach, and now you were falling down a deep, dark well. For months, no one had even mentioned Dacovia to you. Now, here was the stark reminder of the life you had left behind.

“No sir, unfortunately I’ve never been to Dacovia.” you coughed nervously, eyes darting away from him.

“Really? How funny. Well, enjoy your dinner, miss!” he finished, walking back to his table.

You looked at the rest of the crew, who had the same look of panic on their faces as you did. You all sat there in silence for a moment, no one wanting to be the first one to break it.

“It’s okay.” Luffy finally spoke quietly, an uncharacteristically serious expression on his face. “It’s just a coincidence.”

“We don’t know that.” you huffed, leaning forward as to make sure no one heard. “What if he’s a spy for my father?”

“We’re pretty far from Dacovia now, Y/N…” Nami tried to comfort you, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“You don’t know my father.” you retorted, shaking your head. “He sees me as his property. And if he wanted to, he’d stop at nothing to bring me back to Dacovia to resume my role as his pawn.”

“We’re not going to let that happen, okay?” Sanji reassured you, rubbing his thumb along the back of your hand. You looked into his eyes. The pale shade of cornflower calmed you instantly, causing you to release the tension in your muscles.

“He’s right.” Zoro stated. You all turned to him with a shocked expression. “What?” he asked.

“I can’t believe you just agreed with Sanji.” Ussop chuckled, causing the rest of you to erupt with laughter.

Zoro just rolled his eyes and took another swig from his mug. “Well, it’s true. We’re going to fight to keep Y/N on our crew, right?”

“Of course we are.” Luffy replied, trying to stifle his chuckles. He then looked to you with a smile. “You’re our princess after all.”

You smiled appreciatively, tears welling up in your eyes. Maybe it was foolish to believe them, but you couldn’t help it. You truly loved all of them so much that it was hard to picture leaving them without a fight. Then again, you still had yet to be in an actual fight, which you were still harboring anxiety about.

“Just remain calm and finish your performance tonight. Sanji instructed, ruffling your hair slightly. “We’ll leave first thing in the morning, just to cover our tracks.”

You nodded, going back to your plate. “Sure. Just let me finish my dinner first. Although, it’s not as good as anything you could’ve made.” you grinned cheerfully.

—————

Around midnight, you were finally curled up in a warm bed, something you had forgotten the feeling of after all your time at sea. Sanji shuffled next to you, both of you now staring up at the ceiling. The two of you decided to share a room, as you were now an item. Nami and Zoro decided they would sleep better with each other than with the talkative Luffy or Ussop, and stuck the two of them together.

“I should not have said your name.” Sanji suddenly stated regretfully.

You turned your head to face him. “What do you mean?”

“When the owner was putting his filthy hands on you.” he sneered. “I called you by your name. It was dangerous of me to act on my jealousy.”

You clicked your tongue dismissively, rolling back in place. “It’s fine. The whole crew did a toast to ‘the princess of the Going Merry.’ I’m sure everyone heard that better than you saying my name.”

“Yes, but I’m the one who suggested you sing tonight.” he grumbled, placing his hands over his eyes to rub them frustratedly. “It wasn’t smart to draw all that attention to you either.”

“Sanji, we needed to eat. I could feel my stomach beginning to digest itself.” you chuckled, rolling over to prop your elbow up and look at him. You removed his hands from his eyes, prompting him to look up at you. “This isn’t all on you, love.”

He sighed, flashing you a grateful half smile. “I just can’t bear the thought of losing you.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” you told him, brushing back the blonde strands of hair that flopped over his forehead. “I promise.” You leaned down to kiss him tenderly, connecting your lips and deepening it slightly before slowly pulling away. “Now, let’s get some sleep. We have to leave early tomorrow.”

“Alright…” he agreed, shuffling back to his sleeping position. “Goodnight, your highness.”

“Goodnight, Sanji.” you replied, curling up against your pillow.

As you tried to drift off to sleep, you began thinking too much about the situation. It was easy to make a promise to Sanji when he was worried, but would you really be able to keep it? What if your father was trying to find you? If he did, he would certainly be able to get people to bend to his will. He ruled with an iron fist, and was relentless in his conquests. Should he attack the crew, you didn’t know how well they would fare. It wasn’t that you questioned the crew’s abilities. You had watched them take down the marines like they were just a bunch of kids on the playground, and Luffy was made of rubber for god’s sake. It was just that you knew how powerful your father was. And you didn’t know if he would show any mercy.

You glanced over at Sanji next to you. It looked like he was already fast asleep. Your eyes welled with tears as you pictured him getting hurt, or worse. You leaned over and kissed his forehead gently.

“I promise to keep you safe, Sanji. Whatever it takes.”

—————

Just as Sanji had proposed, you had all left so early the next morning that the roosters weren’t even crowing yet. You docked ship as soon as you could and set back off onto the seas.

Everyone was a little bit on edge, constantly checking to see if you were being followed. Zoro had insisted on doubling down in your training, pushing you as hard as you could go. You were a little exhausted, but still grateful that he was teaching you how to fight.

Sanji was a nervous wreck. He wouldn’t leave your side for a moment, whenever you weren’t training that is. He had also insisted on moving you into his bedroom so he could protect you if something happened in the middle of the night. His cooking even tasted different. You hated seeing him like this. You wished more than anything that things could just go back to the way they were a few days ago.

As time passed, the crew began to relax a bit. All except for Sanji. He only seemed to get more anxious, more protective. It wasn’t like him to not be playful and optimistic. You started to wonder if being with you was really good for him…

The day things changed was about a week after you had left the small village with the pub. You were sitting on the deck floor with Sanji, playing a card game with him while he smoked a cigarette. It seemed to be the only thing that would calm him down lately. Nami was in the crow’s nest, and Zoro and Luffy were looking off the starboard at the ocean.

“Guys!” Ussop exclaimed from his place at the bow of the ship. “There’s a huge ship coming towards us!”

You all sprinted over to where he was standing to see it for yourselves. You gasped at the enormous boat looming over in the distance. It literally looked as if it could swallow the Going Merry whole. The bow was lined with several canons and countless soldiers looking down the barrels of their guns at you.

Panic sunk into the crew all at once. You all began scurrying around for your weapons, jumping into each other and fumbling around on the deck.

“Y/N!” Zoro called, making you turn around. He unsheathed one of his swords and tossed it to you. You caught it in the air, gripping the handle firmly. As you studied the blade, you wondered how it would feel to use it against somebody. It made your stomach turn. You glanced around at the crew, who was all standing at the ready. Luffy stood protectively in front of everyone, ready to absorb any ammo that was thrown your way.

“Attention pirates!” a deep voice bellowed from the opposing ship as it approached you. You froze as you glanced up at the speaker. It was your father, right there in front of you. “By order of the royal family of Dacovia, we command you to return the princess at once! If you do not, we will release fire!”

“How did you even find me, father?” you screeched, a deep rage boiling over the brim of your heart, threatening to explode out of your chest.

“You left us a little clue, my dear fiancée.” a new voice boasted smugly. You immediately recognized it as your former fiancé’s, the prince’s. He suddenly appeared next to your father, dangling a white heeled shoe by his finger.

You gasped. Of course. They found the shoe you lost by the docks before you boarded the Going Merry.

“And it was easy to bargain with a disgruntled small village pub owner. We showed him the smallest amount of gold and he immediately told us where you were.” The prince bragged gleefully. “Your boyfriend shouldn’t have been so jealous.”

Your father held up a hand to silence him. “This is your last chance, daughter. Surrender yourself to me now, and I won’t have to kill all your little friends.”

“We’ll never give her to you!” Sanji bellowed from his place next to you. You gulped, glancing over at him. You had never seen him look so dangerous. Almost like… he was willing to die for you. You looked around at the rest of the crew, and realized they all had that same look in their eyes. It was the same one you noticed when you first met them. The passionate determination they all had to achieve their dreams. You winced as you thought about losing them, about being the reason they never got to achieve their goals. You couldn’t bear it a second longer.

“Alright, have it your way.” your father sneered, motioning to his troops. “Soldiers! Prepare to attack!” They all stood at attention. “Ready! Aim…”

“Stop!” you screamed from the bottom of your stomach. It was so loud that even your father jumped.

He leaned forward expectantly. “Yes, daughter?”

“I’ll go with you.” you croaked, angry tears spilling from your eyes. “But you must promise to never hurt them.”

“You have my honor as a king.” he swore, brandishing his King’s ring at you as a sign of his honesty. You nodded reluctantly, and he motioned for the troops to extend the platform for you to board his ship.

“No, no, no, you can’t do this Y/N, please…” Sanji pleaded, desperately gripping onto your shoulders as if you were going to disintegrate out of his grasp. Tears were trickling down from his eyes as well. “Please, don’t go…”

You choked down the sharp sob that threatened to erupt from your throat. “Sanji, listen to me…”

“No! I don’t want to, because I know what you’re going to say.” he cried, grabbing your face and pressing his forehead against yours.

You took his hands in yours, holding them to your chest. “Sanji, I’m not good for you. I’ve been destroying you for the past week. And if I lead you to your death… I’d never forgive myself.” you sniffled, glancing down at the ground.

He shook his head, squinting his eyes. “You promised. You promised me you weren’t going anywhere.” He dropped his head into your neck and began sobbing into it. It absolutely broke your heart what you had to do, but you loved him too much not to do it.

You tilted his head up to look him in the eye, giving him a pathetic smile. “Sometimes you have to break promises to protect those you care about.” You then leaned in and gave him one last passionate kiss, letting him now how irrevocably in love with him you were despite what you were doing. “Goodbye, Sanji.”

You let him go, allowing him to fall to his knees on the deck. The rest of the crew rushed to him in an attempt to comfort him, except Luffy. He was looking at you with so much sadness that it made you want to jump into the ocean and drown.

You gave him a tiny wave and a teary smile. “Thank you for making me your princess, captain. But I have to go now. Come visit Dacovia when you’re king of the pirates.”

And with that, you ascended the platform onto your fathers’ ship, sailing back to your home country. You knew exactly what awaited you when you returned. Another wedding. And this time, your father would make sure you couldn’t run away.

—————

a/n:

hi everyone! thank you so much for the amazing response to part one :) i’m so happy it’s doing so well! i was planning on ending the series in this part but it just ended up being so long that i decided to end it here for this part. i’m sorry it’s so angsty but i PROMISE there will be a happy ending in the next part! i should be posting it very soon. i LOVE this story and can’t wait to finish it :)

TAGS:

@genshingeeksworld @gg-trini

[chukys-mouthguard]

i feel like this is so specific but can you do something angsty (maybe with a happy ending) based on the ending of white ferrari by frank ocean? with mtkachuk 😁

white ferrari

2k words

genre: angst

featuring: matthew tkachuk x female reader

note: i tried something new with this, green light indicates present day, red light indicates a flash back

green light

The lull of the engine filled the car as Matthew continued on the road. No destination in sight as he watched the scenery pass by his window. Attempting to clear his head but all he could think about was you.

Your entire relationship replaying in his head, making him question how the two of you ended up here.

red light

“Oh Matt, I gotta introduce you to Emma’s friend that she invited. I really think the two of you will hit it off!”

Brady shot Matthew a quick wink before pulling him over towards you and his girlfriend. Matt reluctantly followed, knowing that in the past Brady hasn’t always been the best wing man. But the moment he saw you, he had to try his best to act cool. Despite inside feeling like a nervous wreck.

“Matt, this is Emma’s friend y/n. Y/n, this is the less handsome Tkachuk brother, Matt.”

Matthew rolled his eyes with a chuckle as he extended a hand to you, immediately noticing the soft touch of your skin as you accepted. He felt himself lingering a bit too long, though you didn’t seem to pull away. A smile on your lips as he saw a slight blush beginning to appear on your skin.

“Pleasure to meet you y/n.”

green light

He’d never forget that day. The two of you ended up talking for hours, and he’d never been so thankful for his brother playing wingman.

Who would’ve thought that day would’ve turned into four years, a relationship that had been seemingly perfect. You’d followed Matthew to Calgary, and then to Florida after being traded. His biggest fan though plenty of ups and downs in his career. But also the only one who could keep him in check, and talk him down when he’d gotten a little cocky or full of himself. He’d never met a girl like you, and he knew he never would again.

The two of you having talked about a future, marriage and kids, the whole nine yards. The idea of seeing you as a mother one that Matthew had thought about for over a year now. Knowing you’d be the perfect mother from how you cared for him. You were patient, understanding, loving, everything he would ever ask of you to be.

red light

Matthew winced as you touched the alcohol soaked cotton pad to his brow, cleaning the cut he’d earned in a scrum during tonight’s game.

“You okay?”

He nodded as he simply replied mhmm, allowing you to continue as he glanced up at you. Watching as you took your time, trying your best to be gentle. A smirk coming across his lips while you felt his eyes on you, tracking your every move.

“What?”

Stopping as you felt yourself beginning to blush, he simply shook his head. Smiling at the ground as you packed up the first aid kit.

“Nothing, I just. I’m thinking about what an amazing mother you’re gonna be one day.”

His words caught you off guard, eyes wide as you laughed. “Me? What? You’re thinking about that, really?”

“Of course I am!” He stood up as he checked his brow in the mirror, admiring your patchwork. “You’re so fucking good to me, always. I can’t help but think about how perfect you’d be as a mother.”

He wrapped his arms around you, resting his head on your shoulder as he looked at you in the mirror. Kissing your cheek as you shyly smiled back.

“You think I’d be a good mom?”

“Oh the absolute best mom babe! In fact,”

Matthew quickly picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder as you playfully screamed and fought against his grip. “I think we should start trying to make you a mom right now!”

green light

He remembers the struggles you’d had getting pregnant. The highs and lows of all the false positives, and true negatives. But he knew you to always be a fighter and push through. So he never expected the day that you’d take all those things back and say you didn’t want the marriage and the kids. No more dreams of packing orange slices for soccer games, and back to school shopping.

It broke his heart, to know you had lost all want for those things. Things the two of you shared for so long. He never meant to push them onto you, and if he did he regretted it, because it meant losing you.

The fights had become more frequent. Matthew not sure what he’d done to push you away from him. He’d tried everything; therapy, vacations, anything to bring the love back. He thought maybe it was him, that he needed to change. But no matter what he did, you’d checked out.

red light

Rolling over in bed, Matt woke up to the feeling of cold sheets next to him. Opening his eyes to find you weren’t next to him. The soft glow of the tv coming from the down the hall giving away your location.

Pulling on a tshirt he made his way to the living room, seeing you curled up on the couch. This had become a frequent occurrence with you; moving to the couch when you couldn’t sleep, then passing out after watching 1 or 2 episodes of trashy tv.

He turned the tv off, sitting next to you on the couch as he brushed some hair from face. His thumb resting on your cheek as he traced your features. Soon a soft groan coming from you as you stretched, eyes fluttering open to look at him.

“Baby, let’s go to bed.”

Pulling the blanket over your head, you attempted to go back to sleep. Not in the mood for one of Matthew’s ‘baby’ conversation starters. You knew he missed having you next to him when he went to bed, then waking up to you in the mornings. It wasn’t that you enjoyed treating him this way, you did still love him. But how do you love someone me not want a future with them at the same time.

The countless efforts to try and get things back to how they once were, all failed as your heart was no longer in it. But you saw the way he looked at you, how he longed for the old you. The you that wanted kids and marriage. The you that was now long gone.

It was Matthew that kept you going, kept you willing to try for a baby after numerous false hopes. Kept you talking about wedding plans despite you knowing inside the ideas would never become reality. Because you had given up hope for those things to become your reality with Matthew.

“Y/n, please. I miss you. I miss us. You keep shutting me out and I don’t know what to do anymore to fix this.”

“Maybe there’s no fixing this Matt!”

Matt jumped as your voice echoed throughout the room. Though you didn’t mean to snap, you had let so much frustration build up and to be blunt, you were tired of trying to make things work when it was clear they couldn’t and wouldn’t.

“Have you not once thought that maybe there’s no fixing us? How many therapy sessions, couples trips, all of that bullshit will it take until you realize this isn’t working anymore? I don’t want the wedding, the kids. I mean after countless failed attempts at having kids, I’m fucking tired of it. The disappointment, feeling like I’m the problem. I can’t give you what you want!”

“Baby-“ Matt tried to take your hand and calm you down but you pulled away.

“No, stop. Stop the baby this, baby that. You need to wake up and see that I’m done. I’m done trying to be something I’m not for you. I’m done, we’re done.”

green light

The words still echoing in his head as if it was yesterday, the pain never subsiding as he knew he’d never find another girl like you. And he wasn’t sure he wanted to.

He never imagined a future without you, and maybe that was his fault for not seeing things from your perspective. You two had become so comfortable in the routine that he’d neglected to see how unhappy you were. To see the signs of you slowly pulling away from him. His focus on the future and not the present.

He missed you like crazy, and could only hope that the universe would bring you back together. But he didn’t get his hopes up for that.

As he pulled into a familiar parking lot, overlooking the water, one of your favorite spots to go together, he couldn’t help but get emotional. The two of you always drove here when you had a bad day, or an argument. It was your place to clear your heads and reset.

No surprise his subconscious led him here.

Pulling out his phone, he scrolled until he saw your name, knowing it was a long shot for you to answer. But he needed to hear your voice, it still being the only thing that could calm him down or talk him off the ledge when he was spiraling.

“Hello?”

You’d picked up on the second ring and he was a bit shocked, silence filling his car as he forgot to speak.

“Matthew…hello?”

“Sorry, I, I was surprised you picked up. How are you?”

Your laugh brought a smile to his face, god he missed the sound. “I’ve been better.”

“Same here, I, I’m at our spot. Didn’t plan on coming here but, I was having a rough day. Guess muscle memory brought me here.”

His voice was laced with nerves as he spoke, unsure whether or not you’d cut him short or actually talk to him.

“Yeah, I’ve been going there a bit lately too. Life’s, been interesting I guess.”

“Yeah…”

The call continued with you both sitting in silence, Matt unsure whether or not he should be honest with you, knowing you’d probably shoot him down. But he couldn’t lie to you, he never was one to do that.

“Y/n, I have to be honest. I fucking miss you. And, I love you so much. I, I know things won’t be the same. We don’t want the same things anymore. I just, I need you to know it’s always been you. It’ll always be you.”

His heart beating out of his chest as he impatiently waited for you to say something, anything.

“I know, I love you too. But, it’s just, it’s not going to work. I’ve reflected on everything and, I was trying so hard to give you everything you wanted, I lost myself. I lost sight of what mattered to me and what I wanted. What I needed. You know I never meant to hurt you the way I did. But, I meant it when I said there’s no fixing us.”

He nodded his head as you spoke, expecting that answer but the pain still came with each word. He tried laughing it off, as if he was fully anticipating your response. But deep down he’d hoped that time apart would somehow be the missing piece.

“Yeah, I know. I just, I gotta remind you any chance I get. I love you y/n.”

“Love you too Matthew.”

The line went dead as you’d hung up, Matthew taking a deep breath as he tried his best to accept the fact that you were gone. That this time, he’d have to accept that there was no chance at fixing things.

He enjoyed the view a bit longer, watching the water settling his emotions before he headed back onto the road. The lull of the car the only sound once again, as he tried his best to abandoned all thoughts of you.

green light

[humanpurposes]

I Have Always Been A Storm, Part 3

Read the full chapter on AO3 // Main Masterlist

Aemond Targaryen x Floris Baratheon

In the year 128AC, Floris Baratheon weds Aemond Taragryen, a daughter and a son both driven to duty, now bound to each other when the realm is on the brink of war. Floris is enamoured by the Prince, but love is something she can only hope will bloom once her vows have been said before the eyes of the Seven- AU where Aemond and Floris marry before the Dance of the Dragons.

Warnings: 18+, smut, pregnancy, arranged marriage, canon divergence, angst, possibly quite a lot of angst, hurt/comfort

A/n: I watched episode 2 and went... yeah he needs an emotional support wife <3

I don’t flinch at the sound of steel. I stand steadfast on the outlook over the yard, my hair loose about my shoulders, my gown one of Baratheon black and gold. The clouds over King’s Landing this morning are heavy and ominous. I could almost imagine I am back at Storm’s End, watching the knights spar in the courtyard before the drum tower.

Aemond is a graceful fighter, but brutal and precise. He has no taste for tourneys, he does not fight for performance. He parries and deflects the blows from Ser Arryk’s sword with ease, then once he finds an opening he makes short work of disarming his opponent, forcing him to his knees and placing the blade against his throat. 

The closeness between Aemond and I ebbs and flows. As of late we are making good progress; I’ve been watching his morning sparring sessions for the last few weeks. Afterwards we’ll retire to his chambers and take luncheon together before we part ways until the evening. Last night we dined with the Queen, and having returned me to my chambers, he kissed me. 

He does not smile when he looks up at me from the yard. His expression is gentle and not quite passive. He says I am a good wife. He says he is content to have me by his side, and yet he leaves me to an empty bed each night. I keep waiting for the moment he’ll decide we are ready to fulfil our vows. In the meantime I despair that I am no different from any girl at the Red Keep who dreams of a handsome husband and a perfect marriage which is not yet in reach. At least Helaena has her children to keep her occupied; I might as well be unmarried. 

Aemond and Ser Arryk take their positions again.

Aemond lurches forward to strike first. His opponent meets him with swift, succinct blocks, but Aemond is eager to match him in speed. There’s a stiffness in his shoulders as he moves, but he must keep his head in the right position, he must not let his blindspot leave him vulnerable to an attack.

I catch glimpses of his face as he moves, his lips pressed together, his single eye dark and determined.

A nervous feeling flutters in my belly.

A small crowd has gathered to watch them, nobles, other knights, servants, looking upon my husband with both admiration and fear– I feel a sense of pride in the awe Aemond inspires. 

Suddenly he falters.

Ser Arryk takes the opportunity to disarm him, but Aemond is not one to concede easily. He draws the knife on his belt, ducking to avoid Ser Arryk’s blows, until he’s close enough to aim the knife at the knight’s throat. 

Ser Arryk anticipates this and drops his sword, fighting with his hands to keep some distance between Aemond’s knife and his skin. The crowd is anxious now. The slashes of Aemond’s knife are too close. I dig my nails into my palms to stop myself from reacting too obviously.

Ser Arryk grabs Aemond’s right wrist with his left hand, and throws a fist towards the left side of his face– his blind side. 

I feel the impact as if I’ve been struck in the stomach.

Aemond freezes, dropping his knife. He covers his face with his hands. There is no blood that I can see but my heart races. 

I’m halfway down the steps before I realise what I’m doing. 

Ser Arryk is horrified with himself, trying to offer some help to the Prince, only for Aemond to push him away. Servants gather, unsure of what to do, hovering around him like he is a wounded beast. 

I push people out of my way so I can reach him. I place a hand over his, where he cradles his eyepatch. His breathing is quick and heavy, his hand is shaking under my palm.

I whisper, “I’m here.”

He tugs at my sleeve, a bruising grip sinking through the fabric and into my skin, around my very bones. He leans into me, his forehead pressing against the top of my head. “I’m fine,” he grits through his teeth.

“My Lady,” Ser Arryk begins, “I’m sorry– I must have acted out of impulse– I–”

“Fetch a maester,” I order.

“Not necessary,” Aemond says.

Ser Arryk hesitates.

“Fetch a maester!”

“No!” Aemond says, suddenly straightening his back and releasing me from his hold. My heart sinks at the sight of his scar, flared, red, angry. He keeps his fists clenched by his sides, denying himself the pain. “That will be all, Ser Arryk, I shall retire to my chambers.”

He marches off and I trail helplessly behind.

Full chapter on AO3

[nolita-fairytale]

call sign: tennessee whiskey | rooster x fem!reader & hangman x phoenix | chapter one

summary: phoenix has always wanted to set up her two best friends in the navy -- ones that have, for whatever reason, still never crossed paths. that's all about to change when you get called back to TOPGUN for a special mission.

warnings: enemies to lovers, slow burn, eventual smut, swearing, mentions of death, strong possibility of military inaccuracies, second person pov, no use of y/n,

wc: 4.2k

a/n: not me having the audacity to take a crack at a top gun: maverick fic. this is what happens when i watch tgm 7x in one week. a fic is born. and in my defense, this cast has so much damn chemistry how could i not?! this is a oneshot idea that turned into a series that's turned into a series and a sequel? oops. 10/10 recommend listening to the song tennessee whiskey by chris stapleton.

masterlist | the playlist | chapter two

She’s shocked but she knows better than to be surprised.

At least that’s what Phoenix reminds herself as she watches the heated interaction between Rooster and Hangman at the pool table. It can’t have been more than five minutes since Rooster’s arrival for the two of them to get into it. And the way he looked at her just a moment ago? With his smug, annoyingly handsome, overconfident face right before taking another dig at Rooster?

She hates it. 

And she hates that it made her feel something. 

She can’t put her finger on it: disgust, unadulterated rage, whatever the hell else would make you want to kiss and kill someone at the same time.

She exchanges unamused glances with Rooster once again, shaking her head in the beyond cocky fighter pilot. 

“Well, he sure hasn’t changed,” she scoffs, watching as Hangman makes his way back to the jukebox to select another song. 

“Nope. Sure hasn’t,” Rooster agrees with dismay. 

“Check it out. More badges,” Payback says, turning his attention to the way of the new arrivals. “That’s Harvard, Yale, Omaha… shit that’s Fritz.”

“What kind of mission is this?” Fanboy asks, taking note as the best of the best continue to arrive at the Hard Deck tonight.

As Phoenix asks the question everyone is wondering – who the hell the US Navy plans to teach the top 1% of fighter pilots – she notices Rooster’s disappeared from the conversation around the pool table. It doesn’t take long before someone’s cut the power to the jukebox causing a collective groan to ring out within the four walls of the Hard Deck. 

A smile creeps across Phoenix’s face as she knows exactly where Rooster’s gone. The sound of a few riffs on the piano being played catch her attention, and she excuses herself from the pool table. She joins her good friend she met at flight school, in all of his Hawaiin shirt-clad glory. 

“You missed me, Trace?” Rooster says, stealing a glance from the side of his old friend. 

“Not even a little bit,” she teases him in return. 

But Rooster understands. 

What she means is ‘yes I have,’ and ‘you could’ve called.’

The commotion of Maverick being thrown out of the bar interrupts their brief reunion, and while Phoenix watches, Rooster occupies himself with the task at hand. His large aviators that cover his eyes make it easier to ignore the fact that the closest thing he’d ever had to a father figure had been called back to North Island too. His long fingers run over the keys of the barely-in-tune piano of the Hard Deck, unwilling to acknowledge the presence of the man. Instead, he charges forward, noticing how easy it is to slip into the familiar rhythm of being back at TOPGUN. 

Outside of the bar, Jake’s having a little too much fun throwing the old aviator overboard with Payback and Coyote. As he heads back inside, he doesn’t join Payback and Fanboy at the piano with the rest of them, instead choosing to head to the bar for another round of beers. He leans back against the bar, watching as the whole bar seems wrapped in singing along to Rooster’s personal anthem. Hangman takes another swig of his beer amused by the sight. 

He’s not sure why he’s so hesitant to join in on the fun but he doesn’t move – can’t let Rooster have this one. Hangman lets his gaze linger on Phoenix from a distance as she dances (in his opinion) a little too closely for his liking to Rooster. 

He’ll never admit it, but he’s always been entranced by the woman he met at TOPGUN all those years ago at his graduation. She was a part of the incoming class, the one right behind his, and he’s not sure how, in the same damn khaki uniform as everyone else, she’s always looked this good. 

Her eyes light up as someone or something across the room catches her attention, and she’s practically jumping up, sprinting across the Hard Deck and into the arms of another naval aviator. 

And for the first time tonight, a genuine smile spreads across his lips. 

He wondered when you’d show.

As soon as he got the call, you’d texted him immediately asking if he’d gotten the same request for this mysterious special op. Earlier, when he’d watched Harvard and Yale roll in with Halo, your WSO he knew your arrival was almost moments away. But you’d never been the most punctual when it came to your personal life, so he wasn’t surprised that you were running behind. Jake chuckles to himself thinking about all the trouble you used to get into at the academy for not being on time. Almost got you kicked out a few times too, if he recalls correctly. 

It'd been too long since he’d seen you last, now that you were stationed at Lemoore. He loved teasing you about what a Californian you’d turned into, now that you’d been out of Texas. 

“Gonna start callin’ you Phoenix if you spend any more time in California, kid,” he’d teased you during your last phone call, referencing the LA native you both admired. 

But Jake’s almost forgotten about how close you are with Natasha – the three of you always circling around each other, never quite in the same place at the same time. He’s definitely forgotten (or at least tried to) the time you called him a lovesick idiot after he wouldn’t shut up about a certain fighter pilot he’d met during a certain deployment. 

What could he say? 

His first deployment with Phoenix had left… quite the impression on him… and you knew him well enough to call him out on it. 

Of course, Phoenix had wanted nothing to do with him at the time. His usual tricks – that Southern Charm and perfectly symmetrical face – only seemed to repulse her even more and he had to admit that it made him like her even more. 

“Whiskey!” she practically shouts, as Jake watches the two of you embrace. 

“Sorry I’m late. I would’ve come earlier if I knew there was a singalong,” you smirk, taking in the sigh of the more than jovial crowd huddled around the piano. “But once I hit LA traffic. Shit. That’s what I get for leaving for wanting to take my own damn car.”

“Oh I think he’s just getting started,” she replies, nodding towards Rooster. 

Before you can say anything else, before you can take a good look at the man behind the piano, Hangman’s cut your reunion-for-two short. 

“Well, well. Look what the cat dragged in,” he croons, his Texas drawl prominent in the way he says each word. 

“Hangman, you son of a bitch!” you squeal, meaning the last part in the most endearing way possible. 

“Hey, kid,” he greets you with the biggest smile you’ve seen all day. 

You immediately wrap your arms around his neck, jumping into his arms. Jake picks you up, spinning you around before setting you back down on the ground as you laugh. Your public display of affection earns a few looks your way, and Phoenix pretends to vomit on the floor in response. 

You laugh again, “You think I’d get a free pass after putting up with this one for over ten years.”

“This… is something I’ll never understand,” Natasha replies, gesturing towards the space between the two of you.

“You jealous, Phoenix?” Hangman asks, a confidence behind his words.

Nat sends a snarky look his way before answering, dryly:

“Only in your dreams, Bagman.”

“You’re right about that,” he flirts shamelessly, giving her a wink. 

“Oh gross!” you say with an eye roll. You playfully punch Jake in the chest, pushing him away from you and Natasha. 

“Get your own friend. Besides, Nat and I have some catching up to do and I’m in need of a drink,” you continue, earning a groan from Jake. 

“What? I can’t watch?” he smirks, earning another fake vomit from Phoenix. 

“No, Bagman,” you tease, using the callsign you know Nat loves to demean him with. “We’re gonna talk shit about you.”

He shoots you a look, shaking his head at your snarky remark. He knows it’s out of love – at least from you. He concedes, tipping his beer towards you as a form of ‘cheers’ before taking a few steps away. 

You and Nat exchange a laugh, before linking arms and heading towards the bar.

“I don’t know how you’ve put up with him for more than five minutes,” she remarks, searching for an available bartender. 

“He’s not all that bad once you get past all the bullshit. And there’s a lot of it,” you reply honestly. 

“No thanks,” Phoenix dismisses, before flagging down Penny.

You watch as she orders the two of you a round of beers and you can’t help but find it funny how quick she was to dismiss Jake. It’s true: you’ve always thought the two of them were more alike than they were different. Sure, Jake made questionable decisions on the daily. But even after all of these years, he still had more heart than anyone you’d met this side of the Mississippi. 

“How was your trip?” you ask Phoenix, making small talk to start. 

“It was alright. Came in a few days earlier to see some family in LA first,” she answers with a shrug. 

“How’s your mom?” you ask, curiously. 

And Phoenix answers, filling you in that her mom is doing much better than the last time you talked, and her brother and his wife are moving back to LA. You tell her that you’re finally getting used to California, while the two of you wonder about this top secret, special mission that you’ve all been called back to TOPGUN for. 

“Oh! Speaking of the best of the best. Uh… my best friend is here,” she starts with a smile on her face. 

“Excuse me. I thought… I was your best friend… at least in the Navy,” you tease her. 

She rolls her eyes playfully, “No, I mean. Rooster. I’ve actually been wanting to introduce the two of you for years...”

Phoenix gestures towards the man behind the piano still going at it, and you move over to get a good look at him. He’s hot. You’ll give her that. And you’re not usually into the whole mustache thing but it somehow seems to make him even more attractive. His oversized aviators are hanging off his face as he pounds away at the keys of the piano and you can’t imagine what grown adult man would wear Hawaiin shirts by choice. 

And yet, everything about him you’d normally find cringe-worthy in a man, he seems to pull off.  

He knows it too. 

There’s a group of girls gathered around the piano that are gossiping as they watch him riff on another instrumental song. 

And boy is he eating it up: the attention, the praise, he knows he has the ears of everyone at the Hard Deck tonight. 

“The piano player. From flight school?” you question, curiously, as you begin to connect the dots. 

“Yeah!” she answers, her eyes lighting up at your immediate recognition. “Yeah that’s where we met. Reminds me of you, actually. Just the way we both clicked instantly… and you’ve both become life-long friends.”

You think back to your first deployment as a naval aviator. You and Phoenix were sent on a mission in Sarajevo and had become fast friends. At first, you wondered if you grew so close so quickly because you were the only women on that deployment, but you’d discovered over the years that your friendship with Nat was unique. While you’d usually expect a fast friendship to fizzle out, your relationship with Nat had only grown stronger over the years. 

“Hm,” you sound in response, giving Rooster another lookover. 

Nat’s other best friend. 

Sure. 

Nat’s hot other best friend. 

“What’s with the porn ‘stache?” you ask, playfully. 

She chuckles, “Long story for a different time.”

“C’mon! I’ll introduce you to everyone else,” Phoenix encourages you, grabbing your hand and practically dragging you over to the pool table with her. 

“Gentleman,” she says cooly, greeting the uniform-clad men that surround the pool table. 

“This is Whiskey,” she announces, introducing you. “Top of her class at TOPGUN and the only person on the planet that can get me to drink the worm at the bottom of a bottle of tequila.”

“Yo, I’ve heard about you,” Payback says, immediately recognizing your callsign. 

“I could say the same about you, Payback,” you reply, and he’s surprised to see you already know his callsign. “Coyote, ‘s always a pleasure.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he nods to you. 

“Wait. You two already know each other?” Payback asks, looking from you to Coyote. 

“Texas,” you both answer at the same time, exchanging a smile.

“Us Texans gotta stick together. Especially at the top,” Coyote clarifies.

“I’m Fanboy. And this here is Harvard and Bob,” Fanboy says, finishing his introduction of at least the aviators engaged in the game at the time. 

“It’s nice to meet you two,” you reply, looking from Fanboy to Harvard. 

You notice that it seems like Rooster’s little performance has ended and the jukebox has been plugged back in. It doesn’t surprise you that Hangman’s slipped out, probably to cue up his own personal soundtrack for the night. Bob is busy lining up his pool cue, but you already know him from Lemoore. He and Fanboy continue their game, and you wonder where Halo snuck off to. 

Bob shoots his shot, missing miserably with a sigh as the rest of the aviators cry out in supportive disappointment for him.

“Bob, ya really can’t do better than that, huh?” you hear the Southern drawl of Jake heading your way. 

You and Phoenix exchange a look, knowing just how much Jake is going to enjoy picking on the little guy.  

“Let me show you how it’s really done,” Jake smirks, snatching the pool cue out of Fanboy’s hands as he struts towards the pool table. 

You decide that someone needs to humble him, and you know just how you’re going to do it. 

“Easy there, Seresin,” you say, intercepting his gait. You stand your ground, right between him and the pool table, blocking his way. 

Jake stops in his tracks, as you stand toe to toe with him, barely inches apart from each other in a battle of the egos. Coyote lets out a whistle and you can hear Phoenix and Bob snickering in the corner as they watch on. 

“You see, I can’t let you do that because… it’s my turn, actually,” you challenge him, a rebellious look on your face. “So you’re just going to have to wait for yours.”

“Damn. You gonna let her talk to you like that, Hangman?” Coyote whistles, always amused by how willing you are to throw yourself in front of the moving bus that is Jake Seresin. 

“Don’t let her fool you. Whiskey’s always been sweet on me. Ain't that right, kid?” he coos, his eyes never leaving yours. 

“HA!” you hear Nat laugh loudly, as you raise your eyebrows up at Jake.

You don’t dare break eye contact. There’s no way in hell he’s winning this one. 

He shoots you a look that says, ‘you really want to do this right now?’ and you shoot him a look that says, ‘you’re being a bully.’

“Bullshit. She’s got you by the balls, lieutenant,” Phoenix hollers. 

“And he wouldn’t have it any other way,” you say, winking in her direction. You refocus your attention back on your best friend, pressing your lips together in a thin line “Besides, we all know that Hangman here has a soft spot for women who degrade him.”

You grab the pool cue out of his hand before bringing your opposite hand to tap him twice on the cheek, eliciting another round and whoops and hollers from the group of guys. 

“Ain’t that right, Bagman?” you throw in, parroting his condescending phrase from earlier. 

Jake shakes his head, knowing that you won this one as he watches you move around the pool table to set up your next shot. Bob watches on, impressed with the way you stood up to Hangman like that, especially in defense of himself. 

“If nobody warned you, Bob, the ‘T’ in Texas stands for trouble,” Coyote remarks, nudging Bob as he settles in next to the WSO.

While you’re busy celebrating your win with Bob, Fanboy, and Phoenix, Rooster’s across the room, closing out his tab and grabbing his last beer of the night. He eyes you carefully. He’s never seen someone standup to Hangman like that, nor has he witnessed Hangman take it. He’s heard about you – remembered what Nat’s said over the years: that you were her other best friend, that you were one hell of a pilot, that he should stop making shitty decisions with women and just let her set the two of you up. 

And after what he’s seen tonight? He’s intrigued. 

You’re electric, and he’s impressed. 

What he doesn’t remember is Nat ever mentioning that you knew Hangman – let alone this well. Were you and Hangman a thing? He can see a closeness between the two of you – a kind of intimacy he’s never seen Hangman have with anyone, despite the revolving door of women he seems to keep around whenever they’ve been deployed together. But it doesn’t make sense, because why the hell would Phoenix want to set him up with someone if she were Hangman’s girl?

Rooster makes his way over to the pool table after you and Hangman’s confrontation, his lips pressed to the top of the glass bottle. 

Hangman’s hanging out on the edge of the group, flipping through something on his phone with his right hand and nursing a beer in his left. 

He doesn’t want to sound too interested, but curiosity gets the best of him as he asks, “What was that all about?”

“What?” Jake shoots back, looking up from his smartphone. 

“You and Whiskey…” Rooster says, trying not to sound too desperate for information. 

But Hangman picks up on Rooster’s interest in his best friend immediately. He smirks, knowing that his relationship with you is just another thing he can use to get under Bradshaw’s skin. 

“Spent a little time at the naval academy together, that’s all,” Hangman replies vaguely. When he’s met with silence, Jake knows that he’s got something here. He turns to his rival, scanning for a reaction on Rooster’s face. 

“What? You interested?”

Instead of answering, Rooster just shakes his head, taking another swig of his beer. It doesn’t take long for Natasha to steal Rooster away so that she can introduce the two of you, her eyes glimmering with excitement and the gears turning in her head. 

“Call it a rescue,” she mutters under breath as she drags him away from Hangman’s presence. 

Much to Nat’s disappointment, the introduction isn’t much. Just an exchange of hellos, names and callsigns before Halo comes to find you for a catch up.

The rest of the night goes on, accompanied by Hangman’s pick of tunes, and it’s filled with old friends, catch ups, and a few more rounds of pool. It’s good to be back here. In a way it feels nostalgic, and anyone would be lying if they couldn’t admit that being selected to be a part of this mission was a huge boost for the ego. While it’s cool to have some Lemoore buddies with you, it’s good to see your old friends too – the ones you don’t get to see as often – like Jake. Like Phoenix. These are bonds forged in battle, and people you’d trust with your life. 

It’s not till the end of the night that you realize that you may have had one too many, so you step out for some air. San Diego is perfect almost year round, you think, as you watch the waves crash against each other. 

“You good? I saw you slip out,” you hear a voice say. 

You’re surprised to find Rooster standing behind you, just outside of the entrance of the Hard Deck. You hadn’t gotten much time to meet him, despite Nat’s best efforts. 

“Yeah, I just think I’ve had a little too much to drink. Wanted to get some air,” you reply with a small laugh. “Thanks though. For checking in.”

“Can’t have you gettin’ into any trouble. Nat would kill me,” he says, taking a few steps toward you. 

This time, you fully turn towards him, resting your back against the railing, as he holds out a cup of water. 

“Thought you might want a glass of water too.”

“You’re a good friend. At least that’s what Nat’s said about you,” you say with a smile, taking the glass of water he’s offered you. 

“She said that?” he asks, only a little surprised. 

You nod in response. 

Rooster joins you, standing side by side, his back pressed against the railing, mirroring your body language. 

There’s a long silence between the two of you as you drink your water. After a big night of friends old and new, it’s nice to have a moment of quiet too – the waves being the only sound between the two of you. 

“So… you and Jake?” Rooster asks, interrupting your momentary shared silence. 

“Oh!” you gasp, another laugh following. 

You’re not sure if it’s the alcohol or the question that makes you feel a little warmer as you contemplate how to answer his question. Between your greeting upon arrival and your standoff at the pool table, you can imagine why Rooster would think that. You can’t blame him. The two of you get mistaken as a couple all the time, especially when you’re out and about in your civvies. 

“No, there's-, there’s no me and Jake. I mean. We… met at the naval academy. He was two years ahead of me and kinda took me under his wing when he found out that I was a fellow Texan. We’ve been close friends ever since,” you clarify, trying your best to explain your uncommon friendship with Hangman. 

Rooster scoffs, a blush running across his cheeks as he mutters an unconvinced yet conceding with, “Okay.”

“What? You don’t believe me,” you ask, turning your head to watch his reaction.

“No, it’s not that! I uh… I’ve just… never seen Hangman let anyone talk to him like that. I just… made some assumptions, I guess. Sorry,” he apologizes, almost embarrassed that he asked in the first place. 

“No it’s okay,” you reassure him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder before crossing your arms over your chest. “In your defense, there was one kiss at school back in the day that ended promptly when I laughed him out of my dorm room.”

Rooster laughs, the idea of it completely contradictory to the playboy persona Hangman portrays to the world. 

“Now that’s a story I want to hear,” he smirks. 

You shake your head, “There’s not much to tell. I promise.”

“He always been this much of an ass?” Rooster asks, stealing another glance your way. 

“Oh yeah. And he’s always been this fucking annoying too,” you add playfully. 

He agrees and the two of you exchange glances again. You’re starting to see why Phoenix has raved about him all these years and you’ve barely had a real conversation with him. 

“Then why do you put up with him?” Rooster asks again, this time a little more seriously. He’s not sure why, but he really wants to hear that you don’t have feelings for Jake. 

“Because… there was a time we were both just dumb kids, y'know? Because he may be an annoying, self-centered, overconfident little shit... but he's my annoying, self-centered, overconfident little shit. And I’m stuck with him,” you admit, genuinely. 

Your capacity for empathy leaves an impact on him. He’s going to be thinking about this conversation for a few days. 

“Fair enough.”

“So what’s the story behind your callsign?” he asks, changing the subject. 

You raise an eyebrow, “What’s the story behind yours?” 

Instead of answering, he just shakes his head and you laugh, knowing he’s not going to tell you. You don’t answer either, taking another sip of the water he’s brought out for you. 

*

“Hooooly shit,” Rooster marvels, watching as you pull of an extremely tricky maneuver in your two-seater F/A-18. 

It’s you and Halo paired up with Harvard as your wingman for this round of the dogfight exercise. And while you may be impressive, you’re still no match for Maverick, as he gets you with a killshot just for trying to show off. 

“You got to give it to her. That was smooth,” Fanboy admires as the rest of the aviators watch the exercise from inside the watchtower. 

Jake chuckles in response. You’ve always been full of surprises and he’s always finds it amusing when someone new discovers it. 

“Like Tennessee Whiskey, fellas,” he answers, his Texas drawl a love letter to your shared home state. 

He shakes his head watching you fly before adding:

“Some things never change.”

read: chapter two

*

A/N: HI ITS ME. How're feeling up in this club and why is everyone so hot and have so much sexual tension? Anyways... should I continue this or nah??

[brookediamonds]

don't forget to kiss me, or else you'll have to miss me | Axel Kovačević x Fem! Reader

based off this request

Summary: Your anxiety gets the best of you, and when you're overwhelmed you find the kata Sensei LaRusso has taught you, grounds you. When your in the middle of your routine, someone is caught admiring you.

Word Count: 968 Warnings: None, fluff!

gif is not mine

You knew the Sekai Taikai was going to be a challenge, but you didn't expect all of this.

You weren't prepared when you saw your friend Tory standing with the your biggest enemy, you hadn't anticipated Robby would be so distracted, you definitely weren't expecting one of your strongest teammates having to leave due to a family emergency.

It felt like a lot and when things felt heavy for you, anxiety crept up. Which leads to panic attacks. And you surely didn't want one right now.

Deciding against a night out, you changed into some comfier clothes, those being a pair of leggings and a crop top t-shirt, and head down to the beach to get away from those around you.

You found Miyagi-Do kata to be extremely soothing and relaxing for you, it brought a sense of peace to your mind and body that replaced the anger you held over at Cobra Kai.

When Sam and Sensei LaRusso learned about your daily struggles, not only did they help your problems, they helped you with your mental health.

So when you're feeling a staggering feeling of panic, that heart racing feeling that you lose control over, you count to ten and work your way through the Miyagi kata.

Which is what you were doing now. The sound of the waves crashing behind you sang calmly as you moved with ease, breathing in and out with each strike.

Unbeknownst to you, a stranger has come across you, recognizing the familiar dance of kata you were performing. Axel was entranced, completely in awe by the way your eyes held a look of focus and calm all at once.

When you twist in his direction, you jump in your spot making him freeze in his place.

"S-Sorry!" He apologizes quickly, his eyes diverting in the opposite direction like he had just been caught with his hand in a cookie jar that was off limits.

You recognized him, he was the captain for that Iron Dragons team. He was an excellent fighter, and not at all bad looking.

"You can join me," you offer politely, gracefully continuing where you had paused. He stood still for a moment, contemplating your offer.

He too had wanted to get away from everyone and work on his training.

"Only if you show me that kata," Axel says lowly, taking a few steps closer to you. You nod in agreement, a shy smile tugging at your lips.

Your new friend is taken by this new form of work you're teaching him, following along with you as you move with ease.

"You are very good," he says after half an hour the two of you practicing. You both stood in front of each other, taking a breather.

"I could say the same about you," you grin, brushing away a strand of hair from your face. A silence falls between you, an uncertainty lingering.

You were afraid it was time to part ways for the night, but something about the way this handsome boy was gazing down at you kept your feet glued to the ground.

Just as you're about to suggest something, Axel looks like he’s about to say something too.

"Do you want to—"

"Maybe we could—"

You both stop mid-sentence, your words overlapping. A surprised laugh escapes you as Axel’s cheeks turn a faint shade of pink.

"Go ahead," he nods unable to hide his giant smile, glad you wanted to further explore his company.

"There's a churro stand on the way back to the hotel, maybe we can grab one and hang out for a little longer?" You propose the idea, yours words spilling out before your courage can falter.

"I would like that," he says warmly.

The two of you fall into step, walking along the edge of the water, enjoying the sound of the rolling waves in the background.

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

"Okay, if you had to choose between finishing this churro with me," you held up your half-eaten sugary dessert, "or never get to eat churros again, what would you choose?"

There's a playful smile tugging at your lips, when Axel is mid-bite into his churro, freezing at your question.

"That is unfair," he frowns looking down at you as the two of you strolled down the streets of Barcelona. "Is this trick question? If I give up mine, do I get to finish yours?"

You gasp, clutching your churro dramatically. "Absolutely not! This one is mine. You’re on your own."

Axel laughs before letting out a dramatic sigh.

"I guess I would choose this churro with you," he answers your question. "A night with you is worth no churros for the rest of my life."

Your hearts soars in your chest, a bubbly feeling rising in your stomach.

"I better make it an unforgettable night then," you joke, trying to mask the warmth creeping into your cheeks.

He chuckles, watching as you take a seat at a nearby bench. Sliding in right next to you, you twist your body, pulling up your legs to fully face him.

"Tonight has been fun," he says matter factly. "And unforgettable."

You grin taking the last bite of your food, tossing the wrapper in the trashcan behind you.

"I know what can make it even more unforgettable," you spoke softly, your eyes flickering between Axel's and his lips.

He catches your gaze, a small smirk tugging at his lips. He knew what you were implying by the way you inched closer to him.

Closing the gap between you, he leans forward capturing his lips with yours, completely ravishing you.

The fireworks that have been flickering all night, finally erupt. His hand found its way to your cheek, cupping it gently as you snaked your arm around the back of his neck.

When you pull away, both your eyes reconnect holding the same love-struck glint.

It was an indeed, an unforgettable night.

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

For Eternity. (A Sequel to The Orange.)

You and Jake share an orange. He's never loved you more.

This is a sequel to The Orange, but can absolutely be read as a stand alone <3

Pairing - Jake Seresin x female reader

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - Cursing, a little smooching

Word Count - 2614

Author's Note - hi, me again. I hope you enjoy this part 2 of The Orange. I loved that first fic so much, and whenever I go to write Jake, it seems to occur in that universe, so I thought why not make a sequel just as sweet as the first. as always, requests or thoughts, send them my way. all my love x

Masterlist. Requests.

Jake Seresin has always been an awful dancer. Like, seriously, genuinely, terrible. It was one of the main reasons, it turns out, that you fell in love with him.

Upon first glance, Jake seems perfect. Ken Doll perfect. Cover of Vogue perfect. Carved by the Gods perfect. He’s stunningly handsome, ridiculously charming, and one of the best fighter pilots the US Navy has ever seen. He seems almost too good to be true.

Then you see him dance. And you realise that maybe he isn’t quite as perfect as you first thought. It makes you love him 10 times more.

It hasn’t stopped him, though. The two of you have spent countless nights gliding around your kitchen in your socks, slipping this way and that, jumping to the beat of the 90’s R&B that Jake loves so much. On more than one occasion, he’s twirled you around like a ballerina in a music box, sending you both flying precariously into the counters. Strong arms come up to wrap around your middle, steadying you always. He’ll never let you fall.

You didn’t realise that it was possible to fall more in love with someone every day. You can’t help but ask yourself – when does it end? When will my cup finally be full? When will I reach the limit?

Jake pulls you back every time he can see you floating away.

He holds your hand, looks at you with those aquamarine eyes of his.

He says, “I love you,” but really, he means - love is not a finite resource.

He kisses your forehead, but he’s telling you - your cup can never be full. It’ll just keep spilling over.

His soft lips find yours, and he’s promising – our love will keep expanding forever. It’ll take over the universe and everything will be beautiful.

You’re convinced you must have been a saint in a previous life to be loved like this now. You didn’t know that a human being could love another human being so unconditionally, so completely, until you met Jake.

Sitting at the bar that day, all those years ago, your universe cracked and shifted. Juice from the orange still sticky on your fingers as you dug them into Jake’s cheeks, trying to pull him impossibly closer. Salt on your skin mixing with his as you pressed your foreheads together. Citrus on your lips where Jake had licked into your mouth. It was as if the Gods above had placed the blond man in front of you and said here. Have something good for once.

You knew, from that moment on, that you would never take him for granted. No one gets to love like this. No one gets to be loved like this. It’s rare, and it’s beautiful, and it’s a gift to be unwrapped and savoured every single day. Which exactly what the two of you have done.

The minute Jake had kissed you, sitting on those bar stools, orange peel filling the air with the scent of a promise, the two of you had become inseparable.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

After every late night shift at The Hard Deck, Jake would be waiting for you, leaning against the back door with a smirk on his face that said he knew something you didn’t. He’d pull you in to him, press his chest against yours, and inhale, as if it was the first breath he’d taken all day. Then he’d push you up against the side of the bar and kiss you stupid, until you both felt drunker on love than any alcohol could ever manage. He’d pull away and beam at you with that million dollar smile of his, before slipping his hand into yours and walking you the scenic route home, just so he could have an extra 10 minutes in your presence.

This routine was a daily occurrence, until one evening, you decided the fleeting kisses weren’t enough. He walks you home, right up to your front door, and presses his lips to yours in a goodbye. Just as he goes to turn on his heel, you grab him by his belt loops and pull him closer.

“Don’t go,” you whisper against his mouth. “Need you to love me a little more.”

His eyes blow wide, and for a split second he looks like a deer in headlights. Then, regaining his composure, he finds his confidence again.

“Yeah, honey?”

“Yeah, Jake,” you sigh, still millimetres from his lips. “Want to feel you.”

How can he say no to that, when you’re saying his name so pretty?

He shakes his head, grinning from ear to ear. Placing his hand gently on your throat, he murmurs,

“Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. Been waiting my whole life for you.”

He opens the front door behind you and walks you backwards into your house. You don’t make it more than 3 steps inside before he has your shirt over your head, kicking his shoes off at the same time.

“Don’t know how I lived without this. Can’t get enough,” he tells you. He’s looking at you so intently, you feel the sudden urge to burst into tears. The love you have for each other is filling the room, making it hard to breathe. It surrounds you, fills your lungs, makes you feel like you’re both floating. He pulls you back to his lips as if you’re his oxygen, his life source, his sanity.

“Fuck,” he murmurs. “I want to tell you that I love you, but it doesn’t feel like enough.”

“Enough?” you question.

“Love isn’t a big enough word. It doesn’t even begin to describe whatever it is I’m feeling. I’m going crazy with it, sweetheart. I can’t breathe without you. I don’t want to.”

You exhale. It’s as if he’s read your mind.

“Love will have to do,” you tell him. “It’s the only word we have for now.”

He’s kissing you again, hands tangled in your hair, body pressing into yours. You’re vaguely aware that you’re both swaying, too in love to stand still. It’s thrumming though your veins, keeping you levitating above ground.

“It’s everything,” he says when he pulls back for air. “You’re everything.”

You figured that eventually, the electricity in your bones would calm down. That in time, the love would level out, and wouldn’t feel so all consuming.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

It’s been two years, and as you sit on the third floor balcony watching Jake dance with his nieces below you, you’re worried that you might spontaneously combust. The love has only got stronger with each passing day, lighting your world and guiding you through. Your body is alive with it – it’s like you’re invincible. Jake’s love is a shield, protecting you, like a forcefield.

He still can’t dance, though.

He’s picking up the youngest girl, Hailey, and spinning her around, throwing her up into the air as she squeals with delight. Of course, he then turns to Ava, and does the same to her, both of them revelling in being the centre of their Uncle Jake’s attention. He has that ability. When Jake’s focus is solely on you, it feels like you’re the only person in the world.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

That first day that Jake walked into The Hard Deck, he strolled over to the bar with the confidence of 10 men and ordered a beer from you. He gazed into your soul with those ocean blue eyes, and you could have sworn the rest of the room faded away. You’re still not sure if you were looking at each other for 5 seconds or 5 minutes. All you knew was that no one had ever been able to see you so transparently before. It was as if he was reading you like a book, with no judgment whatsoever. He saw you exactly as you were. And he loved you for it.

You’ve confessed to him the worst parts of yourself, your secrets, your desires, your worries, your shame, your hopes, your dreams – everything. And he listens. He watches you with those careful eyes, nods his head, asks all the right questions. He listens like there’s nowhere else in the world he’d rather be than talking to you. The rarity isn’t lost on you. This never happens to girls like you, you think. But that’s where you’re wrong. Because Jake Seresin loves you so much that sometimes it sweeps him off his feet. Sometimes, he has to hold onto something and steady himself because the force of his feelings for you sends him into a tailspin. The adrenaline of flying a plane is one thing, but that warmth he gets in his chest when you beam a smile at him is a complete other. No jet manoeuvre could ever give him the headrush that you do when you wink at him across a crowded room. Yes, Jake Seresin used to be a notorious ladies man – a player, a heartbreaker, a sneak out of bed before breakfast kind of guy.

But that’s because he was waiting for you. His whole life, he’s been waiting for you.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You’re so lost in your thoughts that it takes you a moment to come back to reality. When you do, you look down and realise that Jake is no longer on the dance floor. Hailey and Ava are back with their parents, the four of them dancing and spinning to the beat, laughing as they go. The blond hair, the blue eyes, the cheeky grins – it almost feels like a vision of the future. Jake looks just like his sister, and her daughters look just like her. You know the Seresin genes are strong – yours wouldn’t stand a chance.

The evening is beginning to settle. The sun is setting, and a slight breeze blows the trees. Everyone is still dancing, singing and laughing, and the sound of it floats upwards towards where you’re sat smiling through the balcony railings. You wish you had a camera – but you also know no photograph could ever capture the joy that radiates around this beautiful setting. The lights on the barn twinkle as the dusk creeps in, illuminating the faces of the people you love the most. Bradley, Natasha and Bob are dancing, if you can call it that, while Javy, Reuben and Mickey are stood a short distance away, smiling at them like idiots. If you could freeze time, you would. You’re not sure any moment will ever be as perfect as this one.

You feel his presence before you hear him. Warmth appears in the doorway behind you, and you know without looking that it’s Jake. You can smell the familiar scent of salt, sunshine, and sandalwood. The smell of home.

“Hi, Mrs Seresin.”

He hasn’t come into your eyeline yet, but you can hear the grin on his face. He can’t see it, but you’re wearing a matching one.

“Hi, husband.”

He steps onto the balcony, and wraps his strong arms around your middle, pressing his nose into the junction of your shoulder and inhaling.

“Fuck, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to you calling me that.”

He scatters kisses along your shoulder, up your neck, and onto your cheek, chuckling as he feels you giggle against him. He turns you in his arms so you’re facing each other.

“Got worried for a sec. Thought maybe you’d bolted.”

He nudges his nose against yours, megawatt smile still plastered on his face.

“After I’d married you? What would be the point in that? If I was gonna run, I’d have done it before we said I do.”

He pinches your sides lightly, making you yelp, both of you laughing. The sound of it echoes through the air, the soundtrack to your evening.

“You okay?” he asks genuinely, eyes scanning over your face. The softness of it makes you want to melt.

“Of course I am. Just wanted to take a minute. Savour the moment, you know.”

He nods back at you, and presses his lips to yours. No matter how many times you kiss Jake, you can never get enough. You’re always begging each other for just one more. You’d stay here with your mouth on his forever if you could. You can only hope that when your time comes, you take your last breath with your lips pressed to his – a last image of your love.

“I brought you a gift,” he says when he pulls away.

He retreats into the room, and comes back with an orange in his hand. A bright, beautiful, bold ball of light in his palm. A promise.

A tear escapes your eye at the gesture. Oranges became something sacred to the both of you after that first one you shared on the bar of The Hard Deck. Neither of you can eat them in everyday life anymore. They’re solely reserved for special occasions, momentous moments.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

When Jake proposed to you in the dim light of your kitchen on a random Friday evening, you knew your answer immediately. You’d been dancing around, swaying in each other’s arms, when all of a sudden, he stopped moving and looked you dead in the eyes.

“Marry me,” he said with so much assurance it made you dizzy. Like he’d never been surer of anything.

“You are the love of my goddamn life, honey. I always thought soulmates were a thing of fiction, and then I walked into The Hard Deck that night and I just knew. You started peeling that orange that day and I just knew. I am going to love you for eternity – there’s no doubt about that. So, marry me. Marry me, baby.”

You jumped into his arms and kissed him so hard that the both of you fell to the floor, laughing on the cold kitchen tiles.

“Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes,” you replied between kisses.

He beamed at you with a grin so bright you were worried the lightbulbs were going to shatter. You were sure yours was just as sparkling.

Jake rose from his place on the ground, reaching up for something on the counter. A part of you wonders if it’s a ring, but then he produces something better. An orange. The brightest, ripest, most promising piece of fruit you’ve ever seen.

You split it while sitting on the kitchen tiles, drunk off each other, leaning into Jake’s side like you can’t get close enough. You’re convinced it’s the best thing you’ve ever tasted.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Now, Jake starts to peel the orange, before pausing and shrugging off his suit jacket. God, he looks so handsome in his tuxedo. You think he looks beautiful no matter what he wears, but there’s something about that man in a suit that makes your knees want to give out.

He places the jacket over your lap.

“Don’t want you getting orange juice on that pretty white dress,” he smiles, resuming his place next you.

He peels the fruit and splits it in half with practised precision. Almost like he’s done this before.

You eat your halves in silence. No words are needed. You love Jake, and Jake loves you, and today all of the people you both love most in the world got to watch you declare that to each other. And now here you are, sharing an orange with the man you’re going to share oranges with for eternity.

Jake Seresin is in love with you. Nothing else matters.

[r0-boat]

perhaps some professor sycamore headcanons👀?

The Pokémon bug is biting me.

Probably because of my addiction too Pokerogue

Professor Sycamore headcanons

Sfw cut for length

Wow someone who is mentally stable and all around a really mentally healthy and physically healthy person? Well sort of... You see, Augustine Sycamore has a bad case of 'I can fix them.' a lovely charming and sweet man who has never been married because his track record of dating questionable borderline dangerous people and still somehow being the most wholesome person in the universe. He always has crazy ex stories to share and despite everything he rarely ever blames or resents them. It takes a lot for Sycamore to hate a person.

Professor Sycamore is a cheery person who looks on the bright side of everything and everyone around him except for himself despite his good sense of style, his handsome face, and his beautiful attitude, Sycamore is on the humble side, sometimes thinking rather poorly of himself. Any words of affirmation of any kind will make him melt into a shy mess, stumbling over his words as he tries to brush off the compliments.

He's a man that wears his heart on his sleeve He's proud of who he is and he will tell you everything about him rarely does he ever have secrets then when he does he's not very good at keeping them secret, his darting eyes and sweating face and clammy hands will give him away instantly. His carefree and cheerful attitude make him extremely popular with women. But he is extremely oblivious to how great he actually is.

He is a lover that is second to none he'll make you feel like the most important being in his life because you are. You are the apple of his eye and has a sketchbook where he sketches His Pokémon and takes notes However there are an embarrassingly amount of pages where he just sketches you, sometimes naked sometimes in imaginary clothing various poses, sometimes holding Pokémon, Sometimes holding miscellaneous objects. Anything.(He's a very good artist too) All of his drawings of you in his lab notes are wholesome He has another sketchbook of the more sultry drawings of you.

His favorite thing about you is your smile, and he wishes you could always smile. He craves when your lips curve upward, and he'll do anything to make you smile. His heart will stink if Your eyes will up with tears. His voice will get low, and he will gently murmur in a mix of French and English as he tries desperately to make you feel better, wiping the tears away with his thumbs, pepper in your face with kisses.

Another one of his bad habits is clinginess. Sycamore will go anywhere with you, but that's not what you think. Yes, he does love to give you physical affection like hugs or kisses, but most of the time, he's in the same room as you doing work on his laptop, taking notes, or just playing with a baby Pokémon in his arms. Anywhere you go, Even if it's outside in a park, he'll make it work. If not, if you have to go somewhere by yourself or he's stuck in the lab, he'll send you pictures throughout the day ranging from goofy shots of his face, random shots of his laptop or around the lab, or up close shots of Pokémon he's either working with or his own. When he finally gets home, or when you come home, he'll run up to you, hug you, kiss you, and give you cuddles until you both fall asleep.

Unsurprisingly Augustine's of language is physical touch, quality time, and occasionally gift-giving. This man is so in love with you that if he could, he would take you out on weekly dates. All his Pokémon, employees lab partners, acquaintances, and fellow professors know you.

Despite having powerful Pokémon he's not much of a Pokémon battler, He sees it as a fun activity for Pokémon to get exercise. He's very much a lover, not a fighter. Until... Someone his loved ones. Then it's like a switch snapped inside of him.

Knows how to play the guitar but hasn't done it in years and warns you that he's a bad singer before he sings a song for you. (He's voice is like an angel)

If you don't speak French then sycamore's favorite thing to do is speak to you in French because you'll never know what he's saying to you. He could say it the most sweetest nothings and filthiest things and you'll never know.

When he gets caught up in his work He will go many nights without sleeping sometimes he'll even forget meals. So please get on to him about that.

[demonbanger]

𝖇𝖆𝖇𝖞 𝖎'𝖒 𝖆 𝖋𝖎𝖗𝖊𝖋𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖊𝖗 | 18+

/ feat: obi from fire force / fluff & smut / enjoy <3

♡ pairing: obi akitaru x fem! reader

♡ summary: a cashier turns into a burning demonic infernal as you just want to get some work done at the cafe. luckily your date, the fire captain of fire force company 8, comes to your rescue and takes care of you, in more ways than one.

♡ c/w: hurt -> comfort, slow buildup, raw sex (use a condom!), hints of mating press, mild choking, pussy slapping, rough sex, captain kink, daddy kink, size kink, reader is called “princess” and gets babied a little, two horny idiots thirsting after each other the whole time who are secretly in love

♡ suggested songs: 🎧 I’m a firefighter by cigarettes after sex / rosemary by deftones

——————————————————————————

You weren't expecting this. you weren't expecting any of this.

-- just fifteen minutes ago, 4:00 PM--

you were in one of your favorite outfits, feeling elegant and comfortable. you wore swooshy wide-legged pants and heeled boots that dangled as you sat in a tall chair. fun earrings dancing in the air each time you moved your head. brown-tinted glitter lip gloss lightly marking where you sipped on the hand-painted sage green mug. a sight to behold in the cafe. quiet, focused, charming in your own way.

you swirled a biscotti in your hot beverage and sucked on it before taking a bite of the softened part of the crunchy pastry and taking your first cautious sip of the drink.

it scalded the parts of your tongue that it touched, but you appreciated the pain, masochist that you were.

burning a hot trail down your throat, making its way down the esophageal tunnel, into your stomach. like a hot soup on a cold winter day.

your laptop was open. too many tabs open, frankly, for the project you were working on.

letting the noise of people's deep conversations and small talk fuel you to focus on productivity. you tuned their words out a little, now, as you scanned the message on the five-minute break you allowed yourself, over and over, butterflies fluttering in your coffee-filled stomach.

the handsome fire-fighter your friend set you up on a date with, Obi Akitaru, yes, the Obi Akitaru, was asking you out for a third date.

"Hey, beautiful. I hope you're having a good day. I know it's a bit early to ask, but I'd love to make us dinner at mine tonight, let me know. I can pick you up. x"

How could you say no to that? Usually men tried to take you right home from the club, or treat you as a booty-call after only asking for your social media with no real conversation going anywhere. Just a quick fuck. Not like you cared about that part--they just weren't even being creative in asking.

This man, on the other hand, caused heat to flush in your ears. Made you feel ways you haven't felt since having crushes in high school. Said and did everything that made your mind and body say "yes, just yes." You guys haven't even physically kissed yet and you loved how slow he took this--he saw you for the person you were. He made you remember that maybe romance wasn't actually dead in this day and age.

You bit back a smile--he had called you beautiful-- and typed,

"Hi handsome. I'd love to. I'll bring my favorite sake for you to try. See you later, have a good day too, okay? :)"

Not too long after you sent that, you saw a notification flicker in the upper-right corner of your screen. He hearted your message.

Another notification;

"Yay :)) I will now!!"

The way the giant man didn't even hide his warm excitement did something to your heart. He didn't play games. It made you less wary, unlike more than half of your dating history. To be fair, your friends did vouch for the guy, saying he was such a wholesome sweetheart, but you were still scared. What if it was just a front?

You always gave the nice guys a chance, but they'd turn out to be actual demonic entities in still-human bodies, you were convinced, and try to make you feel crazy for not taking their shit. You tried to do your healing and allow yourself to be vulnerable again, albeit behind a wall of glass first, but this guy was so damn attractive, and that in itself was kind of intimidating. Plus, he was the bravest kind of man out there. A part of the Fire Force.

When he took you out, though, you couldn't help but feel something different about him that set him apart. You felt safe. You felt like you could just be you fully and not have to mask for the first-date formalities. He gave you fucking flowers, complimented the little details of how you styled yourself, complimented your personality, not your body.

A sudden shift in the atmosphere brought you out of your sweet dreamy haze and back to earth. It felt like you were falling in a dream and suddenly awoke, nerves racing when you were supposed to land. It was an uneasy feeling...

And you weren't the only one.

It was quiet. Even with the cafe music playing, it felt uncomfortable.

Then suddenly a hiss sounded.

And afterward came the little gasps. A portion of the ceiling lit up a yellow-orange color, and right below it, the cashier had become an Infernal in the middle of calling out the latte they were handing out.

The smart people ran out the building out of true self-preservation. Some called for the Fire Force. You were...frozen while packing your things, heart pounding as shrieking filled your ears. You were tough and driven, but not prepared for combat or Infernal situations. This wasn't in your line of expertise. You were all just civilians.

The infernal was approaching a woman and her baby, who were farthest from the exit.

Something in you clicked, and just like that you realized, you really didn't give a fuck how afraid you were. Your vision was shaky from the adrenaline and you barely felt your body running as you somehow appeared right behind the Infernal. You opened your water bottle and splashed it right onto the Infernal, making it pause.

Large patches extinguished from the water, hissing louder than dumplings sizzling in oil-coated frying pans.

"RUN!!! Just go!!! Don't worry about me!!" you ordered the woman, who nodded gratefully, very wisely grabbed her car keys, and booked it with her sobbing infant, flashing you an apologetic look.

This was a cashier, one who had a life and seemed so kind, did nothing to deserve this, and had everything taken away in an instant. You took a moment to mourn for the cashier, whose corpse was never given a chance to rest after...well, yeah, its death.

The Infernal that remained did not care. Cutesy little pins -- like the Cinnamaroll and Mitski pins you complimented earlier-- on its burning apron juxtaposed with the flames coming from all orifices of the distorted face. The charred face looked like it was in agony but also like all of its memories were replaced with hellish bloodlust.

Little tendrils of flame suddenly re-appeared from the extinguished portions, and you got goosebumps as you saw its head slowly turn to you.

Its blazing attention was right on you. A searing pain entrapped your shoulders, like burning your scalp with a hair straightener--except this was so, so much worse. You gasped and tried to kick the thing away on impulse, but it was inhumanly fast, and hurled you to the wall. You flew right onto a table and chairs, metal and wood bringing searing pain that was sure to bruise. Somehow you were okay, though.

Those who were still in the cafe tried to fight off the Infernal, but it was wreaking utter havoc. The delicious aroma of roasted coffee beans blended with the acrid scent of singed hair, burning clothes, and no--please, it can't be-- burning skin. The charming little green plants around the cafe were converted into little bonfires.

Ever the greeter, the Infernal was right in front of the entrance, too. Smoke made your eyes feel dry, and there was a sharp pain in your lungs.

_____________________

—PRESENT TIME—

And here you are. You weren't planning for any of this today.

You hold your breath and try to think of what to do. You're trapped with an otherworldly creature that was just a kind person who took your drink order. Who didn't deserve any of this. Your shoulders are somehow not even second-degree burned as if by some miracle by Sol. You can say that the worst injury is a favorite shirt being forever ruined. But others aren't able to say the same.

A man hugging his boyfriend who is badly burned, telling him everything will be ok. A son in tears, screaming at the infernal not to touch his mom.

For a second you feel a fleeting thought. What if you die here?

So far there haven't been any casualties, save for the Infernal, but you're terrified.

You want to live. You want to see..how everything pans out. Because what if it does all work out? What happy experiences does life have in store for you that you have yet to discover?

To have a baby to keep safe, just like that mother, no matter how scary and dark this world has become. You... want to take the risk.

In the fire, the smoke, and the ashes, you tug your blouse over your nose and mouth to hopefully filter some air. Your stinging eyes fill with tears--tears coming from the resolve to actually live.

Slowly, you get your crumpled form back up.

You want to live to maybe even see Mr Hot Fireman.

His bravery. His ability to face death every day. The way he trains every morning, building thick tree trunk arms to carry people, save them. The same arms that brought you into a warm, gentle embrace when you both met outside the restaurant on your first date.

That's right, what would he do?

You gulp the cleanest gulp of air you could through only your mouth, and hoist up a heavy metal chair.

And that's when you charge. It's all or nothing now.

You have to keep this Infernal at bay until the Force arrives.

You swing and aim for the head. It actually makes the creature fall back.

Thank Sol you weren't holding onto the chair, as the metal would have conducted the angry heat from the torrent of flames the creature lets out straight to your hands. You shriek and dodge the attack, just in time. If you can't take flight, at least the adrenaline helps you to fight somewhat.

A white-hot pain wraps around your shin and blindsides you. Your heart drops. No. Not again.

The creature's hand is extended and warped to rope around your lower leg. You've pissed it off.

Just as you think, shit. This might actually be it but at least I tried, the Infernal suddenly lets go and the searing pain leaves, if only slightly.

The creature screeches the most horrid sound you've ever heard, leaving your ears ringing as its eyes face towards the sky.

And then you notice the black gloved hand impaled through the chest of the infernal.

A soft, "Latom" from a young sister's voice trails from behind the dying creature.

Finally, the poor cashier can rest in peace. The Infernal slowly dissipates into thick, black cinders that dissolve into the air, revealing a hulking figure clad in back with glowing blue stripes--who immediately props you up with thick arms you could feel through the heavy uniform.

"Y-Y/n," a deep, gentle voice breathes through the metal grated face shield.

He props up his grated face shield and looks over you, making sure you're not overly hurt.

"Obi?" you reach out for him, your bottom lip trembling. Fuck, you've only seen him twice before this but you need a hug.

And that's just what he gives you.

He holds you tightly, amidst the other survivors being escorted. Nothing can hurt you now, because he is here. Rubbing soothing circles into your back. Rocking you back and forth, dissolving your worries with just a touch. "I'm sorry it took me so long, you're safe now."

You want to diffuse the situation, to cope with humor as you always do. Except...there are no jokes, only every emotion you should've felt in the last fifteen minutes, giving you whiplash all at once. Your throat tightens.

You try to fight the wavering in your voice but he still hears it.

"No, you're g-good, you came so quickly, I thought for a second I was going to die," he's looking into your eyes, and dammit, hot tears are flowing down your face, so as a defense mechanism you smile and laugh, wincing a little at the pain in your ribs from being thrown earlier. "But, at least I got to throw a chair at its face!" you choke out.

His concerned expression breaks into a soft smile as he tenderly wipes away your tears with a rough gloved hand, the same one that punched right through a burning possessed corpse.

This moment alters your brain chemistry forever. Feeling warm, safe, soft under his dark brown gaze. Seeing his pupils are kind of wide as he looks tenderly towards you.

"That's my girl."

My girl. He really just called you his....Your cheeks burn at him saying that, and you turn away, unable to look at him without blushing. Biting your tongue to keep from grinning so hard. It's not lost on him.

You need to change the subject, and fast.

"I, uh, might need to get my things, since they didn't burn thankfully, can I?"

Akitaru chuckles, as if that's so obviously not the answer. "I've got it, Y/n, don't worry about a thing."

Before you can protest, he's carrying you high above the ground princess-style and frees an arm to hook it through your bag. You feel minuscule compared to him, so secure, in his hold. Men don't generally make you feel safe like this. But he? He's made you almost sleepy, and you know it's not just you coming down from the anxiety and tears. You're serene like you just meditated for an hour.

The firefighters are silently gushing about how cute you both look together. The rest of Company 8 knows who you are. Little do you know that their lovesick captain has been gushing about you since your second date, as well as today.

Showing the picture of you to the girls having them squeal about how much they shipped you, Arthur saying you are the Captain's Holy Grail, Vulcan making him a little fan the same day because he said the captain was overheating and overthinking.

They all find it cute, Obi finally finding another person to give him a break from all this chaos in the world. So when he asks if they're okay to handle things for today, they brush off this Infernal incident as small anyways.

"This is nothing, captain. You can trust us to help resolve this today," a young man called Shinra grins adorably with sharp teeth. So finally the man asks to take a damn break, he thinks to himself.

You don't see them exchange excited glances.

"How hurt are you, Y/n?" he asks.

"My shin got burned, my shoulders not so much, got thrown around but nothing's broken," you state simply for him.

He looks over at the burned areas carefully.

"Let's get to the truck."

On your way, you spot the mother you saved, still cradling her baby, who is fast asleep in its teddy bear onesie.

She immediately recognizes you and runs to you without jostling the infant, and you realize how funny it looks with the fireman holding you the same way she's carrying her newborn.

"I know you," she smiles, "you saved me earlier. Fighting tooth and nail with that thing. I really can't thank you enough."

You wave her off. "Anyone would've done it, I'm nothing special!"

She clutches your hands in hers, narrowing her eyes. "Well, no one else did. You were so brave out there. Give yourself credit." She turns to Obi. "She was amazing out there."

You finally meet Obi's gaze. How long was he staring at you with all that love(?) and adoration?

You laugh. "Well, just know that you don't owe me anything, just live with your little baby and be happy. That’s all I wanted."

You all eventually say your goodbyes, and Obi is silently taking your behavior as the greenest flags he's ever seen in a lady.

He sits you down on the edge of the truck's back and climbs in to the cooler near the front. In there he finds two sets of cold compresses.

He lets you feel them. "These good?"

You nod. Before you could grab any, he jerks the compresses away from your grasp. "No, you don't", he places them on you, giving you a sweet yet frustrated look that says "geez, let me take care of you". You chuckle at how he's treating you like a newborn lamb.

"This should do for now. We're going to my home now to get you to recover fully, unless you need me to take you elsewhere," the large man states very matter-of-factly, when you get far away enough from the cafe.

"B-but...what about your heavy uniform?"

His dark eyes lock onto yours warmly. "I train every day, so wearing 100-something pounds in equipment and uniform feels like a windbreaker; I'll be okay, cutie, don't worry."

Well, that was unexpectedly hot. You bite your lip and fidget with his collar. "I know you're very strong, I can tell of course, I just need to be held, without this in the way.”

He nods, warmth filling his body. To him, you are so adorable right now, telling him you need him. And boy, does he want to be there for you. "My condo is actually kind of close to here. I'll hold you the entire night if you need me to."

You both haven't even kissed yet, but he was acting like true husband material. It was making you feel so soft, so gushy, and very warm...admittedly in your nether regions.

You think you should be more shaken from this whole matter, but instead you're getting turned on from your date rescuing you looking so hot in his uniform, that supposedly weighs nothing to him. You curse yourself for wanting him to fuck the negative emotions out of you. Is this unhealthy of a coping mechanism?

"Thank you, I'll definitely need to be held if it's not too much," you hum, resting your head where his chest is.

His chest rumbles through the uniform. "I would do anything for you, Y/n, don't mention it." Your brain buzzes in reaction for the entire fifteen-minute walk it takes to get to his place.

You almost ask him to let you walk when you both enter the building, but his grip on you is tight and comforting. The desire to stay in his arms overrides the urge to move and seem like a strong, independent woman. The receptionist does not question anything and gives a kind smile to the two of you.

He's quiet during the elevator ride. Eyes flitting down to you protectively on occasion, his rage at the fact that an Infernal came so close to you, very readable on his little tense scowl. His jawline clenches and unclenches as he thinks about what would've happened if today went differently, if he was even a few minutes too late. He seems almost scared you’ll dissolve right out of his arms. Being the empath you are, you sense he just might be a little, teeny bit concerned about you.

"We're still on for tonight, right?" you ask, dissolving the tension in his mind.

His gaze softens. "You're still down?"

"Of course I am, you're my hero today," you purr up at him, knowing the gentle giant would probably like to hear that. He absolutely is.

Obi's wine-dark eyes twinkle as a blush creeps on his cheeks. He wants to be your hero everyday.

"That right?"

"Yes, big boy, I know you're worried, but" the elevator opens and he walks out, "I'm fine. Just a few scratches and bruises, my burns are only bad around my shins." You can still grab my ankles, though, you bite hard on the inside of your cheek to distract yourself from your mind that's always in the gutter.

It's hard to help, having this large hunk of a sweet man who saved your life princess-carrying you around town to his place, in 100+ lbs of freaking fireman gear as if it's nothing at all.

"Well, let me take care of you on this date, Y/n, I hope you don't mind homemade ramen."

You gasp. H-homemade?! Like all the ingredients??? Complicated beautiful ramen? You could just kiss him right now.

"Obi, that sounds wonderful, especially for today."

His smile is contagious. He's such a hard-working man, yet he wants to pamper you. This man couldn't get more dream-boaty than this.

He finally sets you down when you are inside the apartment.

It is spacious and clean, with some bits of industrial and rock music-inspired decor.

"Please, makes yourself comfortable. I'll get my first-aid kit and get a good look at wherever you're hurting, if that's alright with you."

You smile and nod, sinking into the most perfect squishy brown leather sofa as any worries you had, melt away.

His helmet and gloves are off as he brings you a cup of water. He smiles at you and you laugh.

"Obi, you've still got that bulky suit on, isn't it hard to move?"

He smirks, heading down the hall. "Not at all."

After a minute or two he reappears, and your breath hitches. Charcoal grey joggers hug his legs and...um..everything, and his black t-shirt is barely stretchy enough to hold his gorgeous arms.

He senses you eyeing him like a piece of meat and a heat creeps down his body. He clears his throat, pretending not to notice.

"Y/n, do you uh..have a way to take off your long sleeve shirt?"

Thank goodness you had a couple layers on underneath this.

"O-oh, yeah, allow me," you shyly avoid eye contact and unbutton your blouse, feeling the warmth of his gaze boring into you. He swallows thickly, and you don't hear it as blood rushes to your own ears. His eyes feel so heavy on you.

You strip of your shirt and are left wearing a flimsy little tank and bra. He notices how your nipples poke out, and he tries to think of something boring or unpleasant to keep from getting hard in front of you.

Luckily for him, you don't seem to be paying attention. You tug the shirt up to look at your ribs. There's a bruise, but not as bad as you thought it was. You press on it and wince.

"Silly, don't do that," Obi chuckles rather stiffly.

"It hurts here."

"Hahah, oh really? I had no clue that a dark spot would sting when you jab at it, Y/n."

"Okay smartass, you know what?" You laugh a little and wince again at your ribs reminding you meanly of the getting thrown incident.

His face is back to being serious as he looks over your injuries.

"I hope you don't need to be in urgent care and instead told me you were okay," he's anxious at the thought.

You laugh at how concerned he really is. "No, I'm just tender in some spots, no bone injuries, no organ injuries, promise."

His eyebrow quirks as he kneels in front of you, applying cool aloe vera salve on your minor burns. "Your skin is an organ. Liar."

Your face heats up as his rough hands tug your foot on his lap and he gently pulls up your wide pant legs to examine the burns on your shin.

"Y-you know what I mean, Obi." He's so silly when he tries to be stern with you.

He hums, bandaging the affected areas and doing a once-over of your body. You feel a little bold, and inclined to thank him for everything in a way that can resonate.

"Psst." Midnight eyes dart back to yours.

You beckon him closer, and his hands rest on either side of you as he props himself up to lean his ear close to you.

You whisper, "thank you for this," and move your hand from projecting your whisper to cupping his sharp jaw. You plant a soft kiss on his cheek while it's still turned to you. His skin is so smooth and hot to the touch.

You can tell he's now smiling from the way his cheek dimples, and he turns to you, eyes crinkling and pupils blowing wider as he gazes at you. You're so, so close to him.

"You're welcome, but just one critique," he drawls softly, his body heat, the scent of him in his cozy sweats utterly delectable. A gargantuan hand of his moves up to cover all the way around the back of your head.

"Oh? And what would that be?" you ask, tilting your head sweetly.

His nose touches yours, and you can't stop thinking about how you feel warm, so warm.

"You missed."

You both close the distance, and your lips lock hotly, cozily, perfectly. Your head spins and it feels like forever until he parts the kiss.

"Been wanting to do that to you," he whispers.

"Me too."

Your lips are back on his as you tug him back to you, and you feel him smile into the kiss, your hands trailing to the nape of his thick neck, feeling the fuzz of his fade. You're trying so hard not to devour each other, but it's really really hard for both of you to control yourselves. You gasp for air a little, and he pulls away to look at you, a love-dizzy grin on his face. You sigh at the loss of contact, giving him puppy eyes that make his heart throb.

"If I kiss you again, I won't be able to stop, and I'll forgo the need to cook you something to eat, which would be very bad of me," he murmurs sweetly, as he kisses the top of your head, hooking his arms around your legs and hoisting you up.

"I hope you can forgive me for being so mean and making us dinner," he finishes as he sets you down for the third time today.

You giggle. "Fair enough." You admire how his muscles are practically ripping out of his shirt as he turns his back to you to open the fridge. He takes out chasu meat he's marinated, noodles, green onions, dried seaweed, naruto, and eggs. Starts slicing the meat and simmering it with some onions, garlic, ginger, and broth. Boiling noodles. even the noodles look handmade, you think.

It starts to smell so good in the kitchen as you talk about funny work stories, about hobbies you enjoy, about music.

"Wait, you like rock, too?" his eyes light up, "no way!"

"Yes, way!" you smile, as you both talk about bands you enjoy. Music from before the cataclysm. Music with soul, with feeling, before most of the world burned down.

If not for the feeling of the bandages as you unconsciously trace a hand over your arm, you almost would have forgotten how today started.

"You know, not just anyone could make me forget about almost dying, but somehow you have," you ponder, eyes glittering up at him as you sip your water.

"That's how I feel about you, too, Y/n," he says. You can tell he means it. "Let's sit. Dinner's ready."

You hop down from the counter and grab a beautifully plated bowl of ramen. "This looks immaculate," you gush.

"Not nearly as good as the Lieutenant's cooking, I can tell you that much," he chuckles, cracking open a bottle of sake.

"We'll have the sake I mentioned at my place next time," you promise.

"Yes, I want to try it! I'm sure it's better than this one," he pours you a little sake glass.

"Pshh, nah."

The food and sake are both delicious. The raven-haired man may downplay it, but he's so good at cooking. Which, a man that cooks? Just one more reason why he's literally so enchanting. He's almost too good to be true.

_____________________________________________

"You pat your stomach , satisfied. "That... was beautiful," you say with a grin, "but holy shit am I stuffed."

Obi hums. "And you're amazing, lady! Almost ate more ramen than me. Almost. But no one can beat me.” He winks. “Let's watch a show, yeah?" You both cuddle up on the couch, your head resting on his chest as one of the best pre-disaster shows --The Great British Bake-Off-- plays.

Both of you are creating you own commentary on the show, and his thick arm is curled around your waist. You play with his other heavy forearm, feeling the veins coiled around its girth and squeezing his muscles.

“Y/n,” he says, breaking a few moments of silence.

You hum in response, and he smiles at you picking up his forearm like it’s the heaviest thing in the world, and hugging it in your arms. He blushes as he feels your soft tits against him and almost loses focus on what he's about to say.

“Am I holding you enough like I promised you I would?” He’s genuinely concerned, peachy lips pursed in thought. You don’t think you’ll ever get over how he’s such a sweet man. You want to show him just how much you appreciate everything about him and his kind heart.

You move a little bit to straddle him and hold his face, accidentally turning the poor man on way too much, flustering him.

“…Obi, you’re doing amazing. I feel so comfortable, so safe. You’re so good to me, so strong, and I just know you’re such a good captain.” Captain. Fuck, everything you’re doing and saying is making heat rush downstairs to his aching cock. Maybe he wants to hear you say that one more time.

“Yeah? Is that so, pretty?” he says through slightly-gritted teeth.

You sense something in the shine of his eyes, laying beneath the waters, almost like a ravenous crocodile waiting to devour what sinks in. The hysterically strong man smells of almost danger, like he absolutely does bite. But he's trying, key word trying, to push it all under layers upon layers of sweet frosting, to no avail.

His hands holding you on your lower back rub circles on your soft exposed skin, and your hips twitch involuntarily to your sensitive nerves being caressed.

The dark-haired man picks up on your little innocent movement. His cock fucking jumps at your hips slightly grinding on him, and his nostrils flare a bit to catch his breath.

“Yes captain, I think you should keep holding me as you are,” you answer him, a hand of yours feeling the planes of his pecs. His heart is beating rapid-fire, like he's about to have a heart attack under you.

“Ah, so I should keep holding you just like this,” he says, drunk on lust, his hands moving down to the globes of your ass, naughty thumbs now choosing a new place to circle—the crease your hips make where they meet with the plush of your thighs as they’re wrapped around his torso.

The skin of your hips is so sensitive to his electrifying touch, playing with the bands of your panties, massaging you and making you feel like squirming. You whimper and your hips jerk back to get away from the burst of stimulation, only to bump into something big and hard.

Is that.....

It jump against the curves of your ass, to answer your question. You gasp, and curl a fist in his shirt. His rings of dark brown have disappeared into the darkness of his blown out pupils and he smirks.

He tightens his grip, and you feel his abs through his shirt as you scramble for balance.

“I’m waiting for your answer, sweetheart,” he’s snarling now, barely able to contain himself from wrecking you. You take a second to remember what he's asking.

“Y-yes, you’re holding me—,” his hands get ever closer to your core—“just right, fuck,” you squirm, causing you to grind a bit more on his hardened cock.

Heat creeps through your ears as he leans in to whisper, “Don’t stop moving baby, you’re making your captain feel so good right now, being so tempting all fucking day.”

“Yes captain,” you moan—to which he growls—you shiver and shift your hips to grind right on top of his hard member, heartbeat in your pussy as you feel the shape of his cock, how utterly perfect it is, right down to the mushroom tip…holy shit he’s thick. He helps guide you and your clit rubs right on him through way too many layers of fabric.

You whine and bite your lip, hand still on his washboard abs for stability.

“You like what you feel, love?” he asks, and you think yes, you do enjoy what you feel, with both your palms and under your soaking pussy. A bead of sweat is on his forehead from how aroused he is and how warm the air is around you both.

“Yes daddy,” you test the waters, he's asking so many questions, and it's getting harder and harder to answer him each time. Suddenly a gasp is pulled out of you when he flips the two of you over. His hands tease your waistband, as he looks you deeply in the eyes, a sharp predatory gaze making you clench around nothing.

“Say that again.” Arousal drips from his voice; it's so deep it's almost hard to make out what he's saying.

“Yes daddy, need you in me, please,” you repeat, not caring about how needy you sound. His ears perk up like a hungry wolf’s at your desperate, pathetic pleas.

“Good fucking girl.” He yanks down your pants and panties in one go, eyes never leaving you so he can watch your face as he sinks a finger in, a hand on your hips to hold you down.

"Could smell how wet you've been all damn evening, see how obviously you've wanted me all day," he pumps the thick finger in you, curling it towards your pelvis.

He groans and you mewl at how good just one of his fingers feels. Holy fuck, his finger is so big and rough as it thrusts slowly into you.

“Shit you’re so wet, baby...and it's all for me, yeah, gorgeous?” He spreads your wetness around, admiring how wet you sound, look, and feel. Your hips buck, and he slaps your clit.

You keen as he puts two fingers into your wet heat, reveling in how you grip around him. Like you don’t want him to ever leave you. Like you’re begging to be filled.

You're just thinking about how two of his fingers is thicker than three of yours when you try to stuff yourself. Just how thick is his cock, you wonder? You want it, and you want it to hurt.

Your arms are wrapped around his head, and you pull him closer so you both kiss. The kiss is steamed and ravenous, and your gasps are the perfect opportunity for his tongue to enter your mouth and find yours.

His knees hold your legs open and keep you from squirming as the heel of his hand rubs against your puffy clit. He breaks the kiss to hear your breathy moans better, as your arousal drips onto the couch.

“Tight little thing, making such a mess for me, you like my fingers? Yeah?” His hot breath fans over your ear as he talks dirty to you, every single word turning you on more and more. You spread your legs wider because you want him so badly.

“Mmh! Yes daddy, feels so good! Please, need you please!” you beg. He doesn’t need you to ask him any more than that. He quickly pulls his sweatpants and boxers down, and his cock springs out, slapping his shirt, spreading a bit of precum in its wake.

His cock is dribbling and delicious. Perfect, just as it felt when you were grinding on top of it. Girthy and long, with some black, neatly trimmed stubble above it, topped with a peachy pink drooling tip. Veins to match his forearms snake around his cock, especially the beautiful underside, as he pumps it, eyeing you like you're his favorite dessert. Your eyes are wide at how gorgeous his cock is, like the rest of his delicious, fine self. You need to see more of him though.

You tug on his shirt, and he catches your drift, chest swelling with pride at feeling so desired by the woman of his dreams. You both help each other to get undressed, ripping clothes off and tossing them to the floor.

He’s leaning over you, absolutely rippling in pretty muscles, and you admire all of the hard work visible in his physique.

“Your staring is making me blush, Y/n,” he breaks the lustful silence, coyly rubbing the back of his neck. Oh, so he's shy now?

“Yeah, Well, this is all for me, can’t help but stare,” your hands trace his firm muscles, nails scratching his skin lightly, making his cock jump visibly.

“I train every day for this, to build a body only one special lady can touch, it's all for you,” he lines himself up with your entrance, your thighs on top of his lap.

"'M a lucky lady," you shift impatiently, trying to get him inside you as soon as possible.

"But I'm much luckier," he rasps, slapping his cock against your clit, making you cry out.

He coats himself in your sweet juices, high on how delicious your arousal smells in the air. He swallows, trying to keep himself from going completely in with one thrust.

Your mouth makes a little “o” shape as he eases in the first couple of inches, stretching you out deliciously with his fat tip. The sting feels divine.

“Obiii~” you whine, and you feel every ridge of his cock as he pulls out a little, and then drags back in slowly, then out, then impales you all the way in til he bottoms out.

The stretch is unbelievable despite him going slow, and he gives you a few moments to adjust to his size. You can’t believe his big horse cock fit, but that's because you're made just for him, and he will make it fit every fucking time.

“Y/n…shit, you feel amazing,” he pants, and he rubs your clit a little to get you to relax a little.

“I'm so fucking full, fuck me Obi,” you whine, needing to feel him move inside you, which he does, and you add, “‘m all yours, please,” so that all sanity leaves the giant man above you.

“Fuck yeah,” he groans, and he starts pounding into you, his thick cock dragging along your walls making you cry and beg and scratch his back. Your legs feel like they're stretched and spread so wide to make room for the big man who's pistoning himself inside you. Your hands cannot possibly touch as your arms are wrapped around his back, and his largeness and vastness turns you on all the more.

He nibbles on your neck possessively as he folds you like the luckiest lawn chair alive, hitting spots no finger of yours could ever reach, making you see stars.

You’re babbling little “yes’s” and begging over and over in a melody to his ears, coaxing him on towards ramming into your sloppy little pussy, fat breeder balls slapping into your cunt, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. Pleasure is making you feel dumb, and you want his cock inside you where it belongs, forever and ever.

“Obi,” you struggle to mewl his name, and he looks at you, clenching his jaw not to come right then and there at the adorable, hazed over look in your eyes.

“Yes, Princess?” He rumbles, hitting a spot that makes your eyes roll back. Then he hits it again. Your nails claw his back like kitty scratches. And again. You squeal, sinking your teeth into his big ol chest, And again. Your body rocks with each of his powerful thrusts.

You’re drunk off his cock hitting your spot over and over, and he eats up all the little noises you make.

"Princess?" He holds your jaw, forcing you to make eye contact with him with your poor, teary eyes.

“K-Kiss… me,” you whine when you’re finally able to form words with your dumb little brain, and he happily obliges. Anything for his special girl. You’re devouring each other’s faces, tongues wrestling, eating each other’s moans.

You bite on his bottom lip, and he smiles into the kiss. “Dirty girl,” he rasps lowly, hips smacking into yours in one particularly sharp thrust, making you wail. Your legs wrap around him so he fucks you extra deep, as you kiss extra deep, your hands looking to hold onto something, anything, and settle to hook onto his shoulders. He curses under his breath, wanting to cum inside you just like this. But he can't. Because he was irresponsible enough to forget a condom anyways. you take him out of his thoughts with your weak babbling.

“You’re,” kiss, “so,” you both kiss again, “fucking,” *kiss* “big,” you whimper in utter bliss, a small bit of drool dripping from your mouth.

“Sorry, who’s big?” he nips meanly on your neck, and your legs and walls clench around him in sync at his bite, making him grunt loudly.

“You, captain Obi,” you whimper, and he moans beautifully, only hitting your overstimulated spongy spot now, battering into it with his huge cock.

You're close to finishing as most of your vision is filled with static, and he can tell by how sporadically you’re fluttering around him, threatening to milk him for all he's got. His rough pubes are brushing against your sensitive clit just right, and your toes curl extra tight as you can barely handle the pleasure.

Then, the cherry on top. One of his hands goes up to wrap around your throat and lightly squeezes, making you extra lightheaded and he sweetly says,

“Go on, angel, cum for me.”

Your vision goes white as you close your eyes tightly, your back arching into him as he slowly and deeply thrusts into you through your orgasm, your mouth open but not producing any sound.

When you come back to earth, it takes him a few more thrusts into your clenching heat before he forces himself to pull out, spilling his hot, sticky seed onto your stomach. His moans are the hottest sounds you've ever heard.

You pant and look at each other in the eyes as you both come down from your highs, and he smiles down at you. You smile back, sleepily, head buzzing, and he tells you he’ll be right back.

He wipes a warm, wet towel on your abdomen to clean you off. You twitch when he wipes your still sensitive pussy, and giggle as he folds the cum rag neatly once he's cleaned himself off.

Then you both lay there, on cloud nine, warming each other up on his couch, in utter bliss. He lays on top of you, his weight better than any weighted blanket or body pillow, sharp face smooshed between your boobs.

“Like I said, you can have me as many times as you want, any time you want me, I am at your service,” he reminds you as you snuggle, the sweet smell of sex still in the air.

“It’s gonna be a long night then,” you whisper, and he smiles, already hardening again. ♡

___________________________________________

A/N: thank you for reading 💌 after fucking all night they had a sleepover and y/n wears his big tee to sleep. <33 as they should.

[ulquiorrapleasecallmetrash]

Could you please do a hc for ulquiorra and Grimmjow separately where they have a flirty s/o. I love your writing sm and I hope your doing well 😙

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Ulquiorra Cifer and Grimmjow Jaegerjaques with A Flirty s/o Headcanons:

Fandom: Bleach

genre: SFW Headcanons

Rated: G

warnings: None!

Admin Harmony🐯: Sounds pretty cute! Hope you enjoy it~.

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⚬ "What the Hell are you even talking about?"

⚬ Grimmjow will be so confused by the concept of flirting. 

⚬Since he is an arrancar and mating and flirting isn't a thing in his culture flirting will not be effective to him at first. 

⚬So you will have to explain to him what is flirting and why humans do it. 

⚬"That's stupid."

⚬ Yes, he will think that flirting is stupid especially if you are still doing it after you guys are together. 

⚬ "If flirting is use for courtship then what's the point in doing it if we are together now???" 

⚬You will have to explain to him why humans have to do it while they are still together. 

⚬"Oh."

⚬ So now he will at least give it a try because now he is kind of amused by it. 

⚬ I'm gonna be honest, he sucks at flirting…BAD.

⚬Like he has the foundation of flirting but lack the elegance of it. 

⚬He will compliment something like your eyes but compare it to something ugly. 

⚬"Your eyes are as brown as mud." 

⚬Or he will say something that is mortifying but seems like a compliment. 

⚬"You look so good today I could eat your soul up." 

⚬You might have to teach him how to properly flirt with him because if you tell him to stop he will do the exact opposite and he might purposely badly flirt with you just to tease or annoy you. 

⚬Grimmjow isn't a naturally good with flirting  but if you teach him well enough then he will get

⚬Once Grimmjow knows the concept of flirting he might become a bit more flustered with it. 

⚬But he will definitely like it because it is such an ego boost to him. 

⚬Tell him how strong he is, how much he is good fighter, how nice is abs are, call him handsome, and he will enjoy it too much. 

⚬Especially if you do it in a sultry voice and rub his pecks and abs while doing it a grin will appear on his face.

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⚬If you think that Grimmjow is dense when it comes to flirting you KNOW my guy is. 

⚬He will be even more confused and disgusted in what you were doing. 

⚬"....what are you doing?" 

⚬Again, you will have to explain to him in even more detail what flirting is and why humans do it. 

⚬"That is such a useless human habit to have. Why put forth effort when we are already courted?"

⚬Again, you will have to explain it to him in even more detail as to why humans still do it even though they were courted.

⚬He still thinks it's stupid and don't expect him to entertain you by flirting because he will refuse it. 

⚬At first, if you keep on being flirty with him he will be annoyed by it.

⚬ he will tell you that flirting is a useless behavior and will advise you to stop because it wont affect him at all. 

⚬now it will have to a mission to make ulquiorra blush due to your flirting. 

⚬don't be overly vulgar with him when it comes to flirting, he will think its disgusting. 

⚬instead compliment him on something but in an elegant way. 

⚬"Your eyes are as beautiful as emeralds."

⚬"Why would you compare my eyes to a rock?" he will say that but deep down he is low key flattered that you think his eyes are pretty. 

⚬*cough would gift you an emerald ring or necklace that is as green as his eyes cough*

⚬touching him and sensually kissing will also greatly effect him as well.

⚬since he is so sensitive to touch it wont take too long to make him blush as well.

⚬he will eventually get use to his s/o flirting but he wont admit how much he secretly likes it you just have to pay attention to him.

︑︒⚬∙︓·⠄︑︒⚬∙︓·⠄︑︒⚬∙︓·⠄︑︒⚬∙︓·⠄︑︒⚬∙︓·⠄︑︒⚬∙︓·⠄

[allgremlinart]

Ayo can you recommend some jetko fics?

yipeee !!! oh anon CAN I ... please allow me to organize them for you as well ...

Post-Renaissance:

Empty vessels. by outpastthemoat

It’s just that he wanted Li to come with him and he didn’t; Li hadn’t wanted anything to do with Jet. And he really shouldn’t, Jet’s nothing but bad luck to anyone.  But Jet can’t let it go.

Let the City Pull You Under by MadSeason (naive_wanderer)

[He’ll wonder all that, later; but in this moment he kisses a boy who thinks he’s something other than he is, and clings to the bolt of revelation that strikes him in the dark: maybe nothing in life matters except grabbing onto whatever brief moments you have to feel good.] Before joining the Avatar, before choosing his path on the crossroads of destiny, and before he finds a poster for a missing bison, Crown Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation has a teenage affair in Ba Sing Se.

love never wanted me anyway by tiffaniesblews

“Do you really not know how to take a compliment?” Jet questions, turning so that he is leaning on his shoulder, raising an eyebrow over at Zuko. Zuko just shrugs, unsure of how to answer.  “Come on, Lee, you’re a handsome guy,” Jet states, giving Zuko a playful shove in the arm. “You have to see that, right?” OR: Jet gives Zuko a compliment that Zuko is unsure of how to answer.

The Classics:

 Something to Hold Onto by Wildgoosery

Since the day the walls of Ba Sing Se fell, the Freedom Fighters have struggled to protect what remains of the city and its people. Jet and his second command, a mysterious boy named Li, have spent the summer piecing together an army, hoping for a chance to take the city back for good. But Li is also Zuko, and the time for that secret is quickly running out. Soon, he'll have to decide exactly who he is, what cause he's going to fight for, and where his heart lies.

Something New by Anonymous

Zuko is sick and tired of living in Ba Sing Se. Jet is too. But he wants to make it better anyway.

The Bathhouse of the Four Beauties by jin_fenghuang

Set in Ba Sing Se. Li and the Freedom Fighters are visiting a bathhouse. Can be considered vaguely in the 'The Walls of Ba Sing Se' timeline, but is a stand-alone story.