#hot take I’m gonna throw into the wind here

[turtleblogatlast]

Leo: *keeps sacrificing himself and getting hurt*

His family: YOU'RE HURT!!!!!

Leo, seeing they're safe: Tis but a scratch! :)

(I cannot stop thinking of Leo brushing off his injuries like the black knight from Monty Python and the holy grail. He'd do anything for them and anything to assure them that all is fine even though that is not the case. He'll keep doing it, though. Mikey may be many doctors, but Leo is Dr. Hope.)

[ cw: injury mention / self sacrifice mention / ]

I keep missing asks I am so sorry 😭😭

YEAH I imagine Leo as like

The type who is super dramatic over the smallest of injuries, but if he’s actually hurt, it’s all “well what can you do lol” especially after the invasion because he’s already known much worse and barely even made a sound during that.

[kxsagi]

Hiii I love your writing!! Can I request bllk boys going to the beach with reader and seeing her in a bikini for the first time? If you don’t feel comfortable doing it this ignore it.

“𝐎𝐇 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐒”

a/n: thank you so much!!! i loved this idea because reader is truly that girl 🙂‍↕️

ft. isagi yoichi, itoshi rin, itoshi sae, kaiser michael, nagi seishiro, mikage reo, shidou ryusei, karasu tabito, bachira meguru

isagi yoichi

this man was minding his business. sipping on juice, building a terrible sandcastle, humming some tune he half-remembered from the radio. 

and then you walked out from behind the cabana like you were the main character in a summer rom-com. in slow motion. with the wind doing a full-blown l’oreal ad through your hair. bikini shining. legs shining. the sun personally blessed you. 

and isagi? dropped his juice box. the straw stabbed him in the leg. he didn’t feel a thing. 

“uhh… y-you look– i mean– wow– sand is hot. hot. you look hot. i mean, the weather. yeah, the weather's hot.” 

man is fully buffering like a busted wifi router. his internal monologue is just static and the phrase “do not stare at her boobs. do not stare at her boobs.” 

spoiler: he stared. and at your thighs especially, too.  

then tripped over a beach chair. 

then said “i meant to fall.” 

itoshi rin

you took your cover-up off and rin visibly blue-screened. he was standing there with his arms crossed, glaring at a crab for getting too close to his towel, and then his whole demeanor shifted like someone flipped his switch. his mouth opened like he was gonna say something… but instead he just stood there, blinking. 

“… that’s your swimsuit?” 

“you don’t like it?” 

“… no, i like it. i just wasn’t ready to be spiritually attacked today.” 

he spends the entire day pretending he’s not looking, but his peripheral vision is working overtime. he’s squinting at you from behind his sunglasses like he’s trying to calculate the trajectory of a meteor strike, but it’s just your hips swaying as you walk past. 

he tries to distract himself by kicking a ball around, but immediately kicks it into a child’s sandcastle and gets called a “meanie.” karma fr. 

itoshi sae

smirked like the villain in a summer drama. 

you stepped out in your bikini, and sae leaned back in his beach chair like: “damn. you’re trying to ruin lives today, huh?” 

he’s not flustered, you are. because he’s looking at you with the most unbothered, devastatingly smug expression. head tilted, lip curled, straight-up mentally printing a 'do not touch' warning sign over your body. 

“don’t wander off too far,” he hums. 

“why? scared someone’ll flirt with me?” 

“no. scared i’ll have to knock them out and get banned from the beach.” 

says it casually. while applying your sunscreen for you with very slow, deliberate movements. 

you never finish the bottle. he ‘accidentally’ squirts too much. every time. 

kaiser michael

dramatic gasp. 

literally takes off his sunglasses, wipes them, puts them back on, and gasps again. 

“liebling… you did this on purpose.” 

you: “what?” 

him: “don’t play innocent with me. you walked out here looking like a summer fantasy, and i’m just supposed to be normal?” 

immediately claims you like he’s a rich husband at a yacht party. he throws a towel over your shoulders like a cape and holds your waist in full view of everyone. 

kaiser, loudly to strangers: “yes, this is MY girlfriend. no photos please. unless you're asking for a selfie of how fine she looks. i’m selling them for 100 euros.” 

gives you a shell and says, “this is the only other beautiful thing i found here.” 

you: “did you buy this from the gift shop?” 

him: “no. shut up.” 

nagi seishiro

was 95% asleep under an umbrella. sand on his chest. half a chip on his cheek. 

you walked over and softly said his name. 

he opened one eye. blinked. “woah.” 

then fully sat up like a zombie rising from the dead. “you look like a dream.” 

you: “you think i look good?” 

“no, i mean i thought i was still asleep. you look too hot for real life.” 

immediately refuses to let you walk away. attaches himself to your leg like a sleepy cat. 

"nooo... don’t go into the water yet, just sit here and let me look at you. i’m tired. your body’s energizing.” 

tries to carry you bridal-style to the shore and immediately trips because he didn’t think that far ahead. 

sulks about it all day. still won’t let go of your hand. 

mikage reo

short-circuits. 

genuinely might’ve combusted. one minute he’s hyping himself up to go jet skiing, next minute you come out and he forgets how to breathe. 

“… okay but like. why do you look like that. why is this happening to me.” 

becomes your personal assistant for the day. adjusts your towel. fans you. cuts up fruit like it’s a spa retreat. 

“do you need a drink? sunscreen? massage? foot rub? new life insurance plan???” 

you: “reo, calm down.” 

him, flustered: “I CAN’T. YOU’RE TOO POWERFUL.” 

tries to distract himself by doing flips in the water. nearly drowns. gets saved by a lifeguard. tells everyone it was part of his workout. 

shidou ryusei

lets out a wolf whistle so loud it startles a seagull. 

“ZOO. WEE. MAMA. who gave you permission to look like that?” 

starts clapping like you just won a beauty pageant. 

“give it up for my girlfriend, everybody! queen of the beach! hottest thing since global warming!” 

tries to spray sunscreen on you but ends up drawing a smiley face on your stomach instead. 

laughs. takes a picture. sets it as his home screen. 

calls you “beach baddie” the whole day and won’t shut up about how he “manifested” you. 

“you’re not allowed to leave my side. i’m your emotional support freak.” 

narrates everything you do like it’s a nature documentary. “and here we see the bikini goddess in her natural habitat, slaying effortlessly.” 

karasu tabito

looked at you once and said: “damn, i gotta sit down.” 

he was already sitting down. spilled his drink. spilled his soul. 

“listen, i’m tryna be chill but you just walked out here looking like a thirst trap and i’m a weak man.” 

goes from funny to protective real fast. you bent over to grab your bag and he almost threw a towel over you like a dad at a middle school dance. 

“yo, save some beauty for the rest of the beach, please.” 

grabs your waist every time another guy even thinks about looking. 

his flirting turns into roast battles real quick. 

you: “you’re drooling.” 

him: “you’re hallucinating from how fine you are. get help.” 

bachira meguru

“AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH–” that was the first thing he said. 

man started running around in circles like he just won the lottery. 

“you’re real!! you’re really my girlfriend!! and you’re so hot i think i just blacked out for a second!!” 

jumps into the water and starts doing synchronized swimming moves. alone. 

offers to make you a crown out of seaweed. calls you “bikini royalty.” 

clings to you like a magnet. literally clutches your waist and growls at anyone who comes too close. 

“mine. back off. i will bite.” says it with a smile. 

he’s so proud it’s insane. he does not shut up about you for even one second. 

at one point he just yells, “I LOVE HER!!!” to the whole beach. 

somebody claps. he bows. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[joeyfranchise]

𝟙𝟚 𝕕𝕒𝕪𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕗𝕚𝕔-𝕞𝕒𝕤: 𝕕𝕒𝕪 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕖𝕖

can’t catch me, i’m the…

fiance!joe x reader

a fun lil bulleted list blurb about playing a lil football with your fiance joe. sfw, but minors please do not interact with my account.

joe brings you to athens for christmas and of COURSE insists at some point he needs to have a football in his hands

and you’re like . ?!?!? bro chill it’s HOLIDAY TIME

like you wanna bake cookies with his mom and spend time with family and watch christmas movies and wear matching pajamas and

joe’s like okay we cannn but do you wanna come “play” with me for like half an hour

he’s standing in his parents kitchen tossing the ball back and forth between hands and. he looks so

HOT

gray sweats, college hoodie.. are you drooling?

fuck you’re drooling. you’re-

it doesn’t help that he hasn’t shaved his face cuz FUCK does he look good

“baby?” he asks, that playful lilt to his tone and smirk on his face tells you he KNOWS he’s won this one

fucker

but you’re like. okay let me ATTEMPT to be nonchalant. right?? cuz you really lost sO EASILY

“okay, fine. half an hour.” you tell him matter-of-factly

he’s still smirking. smug ass

you also JUST MADE COFFEE THAT YOU WANT TO DRINK. and here’s his beautiful ass wanting something knowing DAMN WELL

that you’ll do anything for him (HAHAHA WHIPPPPED)

and like you’re just in leggings and a hoodie and a beanie. and it’s COLD but

you guys go out to the backyard and then you realize like. THIS NFL QUARTERBACK IS ABOUT TO THROW YOU A FOOTBALL?

“um, joe? i’m not padded?”

“no yeah but it’s fine” — WHAT DOES HE MEAN..

like are you even coordinated enough to catch a ball from anyone, much less JOE BURROW?

he’s like baby. bubs. it’s fineeee i’ll go easy

YEAH UH-HUH OKAY

surprisingly he does

and you catch the first few and throw them back and he’s sO proud of you!!

but then

suddenly

it’s “oh, let’s run routes”

“hell nah. i’m not ja’marr or tee or anyone else. do that shit when your brothers get here.”

and he’s pouting. with his pitiful bottom lip sticking out

he’s not gonna make you feel bad is he? IS HE????

and now here he comes. strolling through the backyard and to you. and oH

his arms are around you. he’s hugging you. fuck he smells good

and now you’re kissing and

“pleeeeasseeee?”

THIS FUCKER— “fine. a FEW.”

it’s more than a few, but he’s singing your praises even though you have NO CLUE what the hell you’re doing

“no babe really you’re doing so well, yeah just like that”

WHY IS HE RILING YOU UP LIKE THIS!???? what the hell joseph

you catch a few more for him and then you’re like bro. i’m getting windED LET ME BREATHE.

he’s just smiling and happy-go-lucky

meanwhile you’re doubled over hands on your knees and PANTING

after a few minutes you’re like okay joey can we be done now? cAN WE

and he’s like one more *pouty face*

okay. fine. one more

so he throws it to you. perfect spiral. a dime. here it comes. and as it lands in your hands, you see him

RUNNING AT YOU FULL SPEED

JOEY WHEELS??

oh fUCK

so. you do what any idiot in the christmas spirit with a hot football player boyfriend does. you yell

“CAN’T CATCH ME, I’M THE GINGERBREAD MAN!”

now you’re running. full speed. as far as your lil legs will take you

(not far)

LITERALLY HE’S CHASING YOU AROUND IN A CIRCLE

joey’s on your heels and suddenly you’re in thE AIR

HE GOT YOU

and he’s spinning you around and

it’s kinda romantic. even though it’s colder than FUCK OUTSIDE

he lets you down and you pull him in for a sweet kiss and

hell yeah. he’s so hot his stubble is scratching at your face and

CONTROL YOURSELF THIS IS HIS PARENTS’ BACKYARD

oh a car is pulling in. okay separate HORNDOGS

he takes your hand and is admiring the sparkly diamond ring he gave you recently

beautiful oval shaped diamond that you LOVE SO MUCH. and you love HIM so much

he’s looking at you with bedroom eyes. JOE CHILL

the idea of you being his fiancée gets him HOT AND BOTHERED

BUT it’s one of his brothers and their family exiting the car, gotta go greet everyone. which you are excited about

but joe stops you and says

“next i’m gonna teach you how to run a slant, then an out route, and then a post, and then-“

you interrupt him like - baby. please

“wait. i DO want you to teach me what the hell dice right f fly whiskey brady is. and also the one where you said alert booty”

he smiles. shit eating grin. because FUCK, YOU JUST AGREED TO DO THIS AGAIN??

none of the photos or dividers used are mine. all cred to owners.

taglist: @slimshiesty @starsinthesky5 @kykysinlovewithafairytale @burrowdarling @bengals-barnesbabe @joeyb1989 @loveyatopluto @toterry @unhingedfangirl @superheroprincess22 @burreauxsworld @definitelynotdomanique @samanthamark5 @superstarshitblog @fa1ry03 @wickedfun9 @xbriexx @venic-bxtch @burrowdarling @angels555 @idbe-theman @yelenasbraid @ladyluvduv @joeburrowshaircurl @joeybisbootiful @livinobx @blairsworld22 @jarring-behavior @joeyburrrow @yomamaslays4lyfe

[stunie]

SCARY BOYFRIEND EX PRIVILEGES! ❤︎ — Endo Yamato x f!reader ﾉ Sfw ﾉ Cw harassment (not from Endo) ﾉ My response to:

ANON’S ASK — Random thought but what the wind breaker boys protect you in spite of being your ex. Whether it was a mutual, [etc], uncertain, or bittersweet break up is up to you.

Other warnings: one mention of reader typically wearing makeup

As weird as it sounds, you’re not entirely sure if you and Endo have ever officially broken up. Dating through high school was one thing, but keeping the relationship strong after attending different universities was another.

At the very least, you’re 90% sure the relationship died, although you don’t remember exactly when the two of you stopped talking. After you switched your phone number following your first semester at university, you hadn’t even bothered to tell him. You don’t remember why you didn’t bother to either.

Everything is weird now.

Life has been entirely different without him. There’s one less free pocket in your bag now that you’ve started carrying pepper spray with you. You wear your headphones in one ear at a time, and your volume isn’t on full blast anymore.

You actually look where you’re going, and you pay attention to the time— take a mental note that it starts getting dark earlier at this point in the year.

Even with the precautions you’ve learned during your time at university, this type of thing would always be out of your control. How in the world did you get singled out wearing your pajamas and no makeup?

Life wasn’t being fair to you.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing here all alone?”

“Midterms.” You narrow your eyes to the best of your ability, balling your hands into little fists to mask how they’ve started to tremble. “I’m meeting up with some friends now.”

You used to be able to just say “I have a boyfriend.”

You also used to be walked home, so this wouldn’t have happened in the first place. You’re sure that if Endo saw the way you are now, he’d be making a comment by now. Something along the lines of “gonna hurt your hands if you throw a punch with your fists like that, sweet thing.”

Nothing is fair. Why is it now that you start missing him for the first time in years? The feeling comes a little too easily for a relationship that faded into nothing, but you’re too scared to kick yourself in the shin right now.

“That so?” The man in front of you laughs when your fight or flight finally starts to kick in. You take a couple of steps backward, and your frame is suddenly a lot smaller compared to his. How easy. “Where are these friends of yours? Can’t believe you’re out here all by yourself..”

“T-they have my location, y’know.”

There’s the stutter that always gives you away.

He laughs at this, and you can feel yourself breaking into a cold sweat. Keep your words steady. Ignore the way your heart rate is spiking. Do absolutely anything to avoid letting him know that you’re scared out of your mind.

It doesn’t work at all. “They won’t know if you don’t have your phone on you, will they?”

All the words you know seem to slip out of your brain, and your face feels painfully hot. “U-um…”

“You’re exactly my type. It’s a compliment… I’m being nice, so just come with me. You won’t regret it— I’ll make it worth your time.”

It doesn’t like sound an offer, and it doesn’t sound like a suggestion either. Your body freezes against your will, and he catches onto this pretty fast. The pepper spray in your bag seems too far away for you to even consider, and you’ve never felt so helpless in your life.

“Yeah? That sound good?” He moves to close the distance between the two of you with a grin, reaching out to grab your wrist. Your eyes slam shut, lips trembling even when you try to say something to protest. “Damn… you’re so docile for such a pretty girl. Usually, they’d be a bitch, but you—”

“How mean.” Your eyes shoot open when you’re suddenly tugged backward, gasping when your back roughly collides with someone’s chest. “I was waiting all alone. What’s my girl doing over here with you?”

The tattooed arms that drape themselves over your shoulders don’t look familiar at first glance, but the muscles and his scent are. Painfully familiar, as a matter of fact. They’re the same arms you used to cling onto- and you always used to wrap your fingers around his bicep and rest your head on his shoulder.

He loved that.

It all registers in your head as soon as he puts his weight on you, head right beside yours and you feel his hair tickle your neck. He gives the man in front of you an unamused look before turning to you.

“M-me?” You want to dig a hole and stay there for eternity after hearing just how shaky your voice comes out. Endo’s so close that you could simply turn your head to the side and you’d be kissing him.

He laughs, and you feel your face heat up again. Only this time, there’s a gentle fluttering of your heart that comes with it instead. “Yeah, you. What? Did you think I was talking to the loser? I wouldn’t dream of it.”

The way you move to latch onto his arm in an instant is all he needs to confirm that your feelings haven’t changed. The man in front of you doesn’t speak— he can’t seem to move either. Your boyfriend has made quite the name for himself, but you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?

To you, he’s your bodyguard— and more, of course, but maybe you’d be honest and tell him about that another time. But to that guy, he’s pure danger. The way Endo looks over his shoulder to give him one last glance is already enough to have his knees buckling.

[rgwriteshockey]

lakehouse summer w/ will smith ⇒

will smith x hughes!reader

summary: will smith, dating y/n hughes, faces teasing from her protective brothers jack and quinn during a summer lake house visit.

word count: 1.6k

warnings: jack and quinn teasing

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━★━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

it’s a blistering saturday afternoon in july, and will smith is sitting on the porch of the lake house, staring out at the water. the sun’s reflecting off the lake in a way that’s almost blinding, and the air is thick with the promise of humidity. he takes a sip of his iced coffee, the cool liquid a stark contrast to the heat wrapping around him, and tries to focus on the sound of the wind rustling the trees.

beside him, y/n is lounging, her feet dangling over the edge of the porch, her sunglasses perched atop her head. she's wearing a hot pink bikini with one of wills shirts on top of it. will’s not sure how they ended up here—just the two of them, on the porch at jack and quinn’s lake house—but it’s nice. it’s peaceful.

until, of course, jack and quinn show up.

"you guys need help with anything?" quinn calls from the yard, his voice loud and obnoxious as he jogs up to the porch, a grin plastered across his face. jack trails behind him, carrying a cooler and a six-pack of beer, looking far too relaxed for someone who’s apparently planning to ruin will’s afternoon.

will sighs. he’s used to this. jack and quinn have been friends with him for a while now, but that doesn’t mean they’ve ever been shy about teasing him. especially when it comes to y/n. and y/n, of course, being the youngest and slightly more innocent of the group, is always a target too.

“you two good out here?” jack asks, winking at y/n, and giving will a look that’s probably meant to be subtle, but it’s anything but.

y/n rolls her eyes, nudging will’s shoulder playfully. “don’t even start,” she says, the tone of her voice soft but knowing. she’s heard it all before.

“start?” quinn laughs, his eyes narrowing in mock suspicion. “we’re just making sure you two aren’t... getting too comfortable out here. no need to rush it, huh?”

will immediately feels himself getting defensive. “we’re fine,” he says quickly, a little too quickly, but he’s not about to let them make it awkward. “just enjoying the day.”

jack drops the cooler onto the table and raises an eyebrow, looking between will and y/n. “enjoying the day, huh? is that what we’re calling it now?” he smirks at y/n. “are you sure about that?”

y/n laughs softly, her shoulders shaking as she tries to hide her amusement behind her sunglasses. “you guys are unbelievable,” she mutters, shaking her head.

“hey, we’re just making sure will’s treating you right,” quinn teases, his grin widening. “he’s a hockey player, y/n, you gotta keep your standards high.” he looks at will with a playful but pointed look, and will can’t help but feel a little hot under the collar. “can’t have you falling for a guy who might be too focused on pucks and not enough on... whatever else you’re into.”

“oh, god,” y/n groans, covering her face with her hands. “i didn’t sign up for this.”

“don’t worry, y/n,” jack says with a grin. “we’re just here to keep will on his toes. you know, make sure he doesn’t get too comfortable.”

will throws his head back, exasperated. “seriously? you guys can’t leave it alone for five minutes?”

“nah, we’re just having a little fun,” quinn says, throwing an arm around will’s shoulders in a way that’s way too casual. “besides, we all know how protective older brothers can be, right, jack?”

“hey, you think i’m bad?” jack laughs, shooting quinn a glance. “just wait until we get luke out here. he’s gonna have a lot to say about will.”

“don’t remind me,” will says, holding his hand up in mock surrender. “i’m gonna need a few beers before that conversation happens.”

y/n leans back, putting her feet up on the railing, clearly unbothered by the ongoing teasing. “you’re both insane,” she says. “but i’m used to it by now.”

“well, we’re not the ones dating will,” quinn says, waggling his eyebrows at y/n. “so, who’s the real crazy one?”

y/n shakes her head but can’t hold back her smile. “you two are ridiculous.”

“hey, we’re just looking out for our little sister,” jack says with a serious face, though it’s totally ruined by the grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “wouldn’t want her to fall into the wrong hands.”

will narrows his eyes, though he’s trying not to laugh. “i’m sitting right here, you know?”

quinn snickers. “oh, we know. trust me, we know.”

“god, i swear,” will mutters, but he’s chuckling now, because despite the teasing, he’s not mad. he actually kind of likes it. it’s a little weird, a little annoying, but it’s also kind of... sweet. jack and quinn are just protective older brothers, and he gets that. it’s kind of endearing, even though it’s at his expense.

“you two can keep talking all you want,” y/n says, looking at will with a smile that makes him feel a little lighter. “but i’m gonna enjoy my summer. let’s just sit here and not let them ruin it for us.”

will grins. “that’s the spirit.”

the conversation shifts again as they start talking about the plan for the evening—something about a bonfire and marshmallows, and maybe some more teasing from jack and quinn. but for now, will’s content. they’re all together, and the sun’s starting to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the lake.

later that night, they’re sitting around the bonfire, the flames crackling and dancing in the cool evening air. everyone’s laughing and joking, the sound of waves gently lapping against the shore in the distance. will can feel the heat of the fire on his face, but it’s a welcome contrast to the chill in the air.

“you guys think you’ll make it to the lake next weekend?” quinn asks, taking a sip from his beer. “or are you both too busy being all coupley and stuff?” he gives a mocking sigh. “sooo romantic.”

y/n rolls her eyes. “we’re not that bad,” she protests, though her cheeks are a little flushed.

“nah, they’re totally a thing now,” jack says with a fake dramatic gasp. “i can already see it. you two, holding hands by the fire, watching the sunset, all that cheesy stuff.”

will feels himself blush but tries to brush it off. “you know, you guys are really starting to get on my nerves.”

“aw, poor will,” quinn teases, clearly enjoying himself. “don’t worry, we’re just making sure you’re up to snuff. y/n deserves the best.”

“well, i’m right here,” y/n says, looking amused, though a little embarrassed too. “and i don’t think i need you two to remind me every two seconds.”

“ah, but we do,” jack says, completely serious, and for a moment, will thinks jack’s not messing around. “you’re our little sister. we’ll never stop looking out for you.”

y/n gives him a fond but exasperated look. “okay, okay, i get it. you guys are protective.”

“only because we care,” quinn adds, grinning as he raises his bottle of beer. “now, where’s that marshmallow?”

they end up roasting marshmallows until they’re too full to eat any more, and the teasing dies down for a bit, the group settling into an easy rhythm as the night drifts on. will’s glad to have y/n here, to be part of this strange, welcoming family of hers. it’s funny—he never imagined that he’d be in a situation like this, where the teasing feels less like an attack and more like... a weird kind of affection.

but as the night goes on, with jack and quinn’s light-hearted banter and y/n’s quiet laughter beside him, he realizes that this is just how they show they care. and honestly, it’s not so bad. he can handle the teasing.

“hey,” y/n whispers to him as the fire burns down to embers. “don’t let them get to you too much.”

will smiles, feeling the warmth of the fire, of her, and the laughter of her brothers still floating in the air. “i think i can handle it.”

"good," she says, leaning her head on his shoulder as they watch the fire fade. "because they're never going to stop."

will laughs softly, wrapping an arm around her. "i’ll survive."

and in the end, he knows she’s right. jack and quinn will never stop teasing him, and he’s pretty sure that’s exactly how it’s supposed to be.

[miupow]

For the new kinktober event, what about hueningkai+daddykink especially with a smaller big chested girl

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 ‘24 : 𝐇𝐔𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐊𝐀𝐈 + 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊

𝜗𝜚 ㅤ― 󠀬󠀬[ minors do not interact! ] huening kai x fem!reader , soft dom!kai , kind of dubcon but not really , daddy kink , size kink , petite reader , breast play , praise kink , pet names , dirty talk , unprotected sex , creampie mention , cum marking

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“d-daddy, daddy, you g-gotta slow down—!” you hiccup, voice stuttering with every quick thrust of kai’s hips. your leg is thrown over his shoulder, nearly folding you in half as he presses you against the bed. his plushies protect your head from hitting the headboard, their cuteness and innocence perverted when surrounded by your ruined face. eyes rolled back in your head, face screwed up in erotic pleasure; he fucks you dumb on his cock, your greedy, wet pussy squelching obscenely around him as you struggle to adjust to the stretch. the pleasure is overwhelming, his cock so deep inside of you it’s dizzying, as if he’s pushed past your cervix and was fucking your womb. his heavy balls clap loudly against your ass as his thrusts pick up speed,

“sh-shhh princess, it’s okay, daddy’s here, you can take it,” hyuka coos in a broken voice, drunk on the way your walls squeeze around him. he’s dead to your pleas, chasing after his own pleasure and release like an animal. his gropes your tits, his hands so big that your perky fat breasts are completely engulfed by his fingers.

the knot in your belly feels different, hotter than ever before, reaching a fever pitch you never thought possible. you wrap your shaking legs around him the best you can, grasp onto the arms that fondled your bouncing tits.

“daddy!” you sob, pawing desperately at his broad chest. “i’m gonna cum, you’re gonna make me c-cum—!”

“fuck.” kai grunts, sweat dripping from his perfect roman nose. “you gotta ask for it, remember pumpkin? be a good girl and say please.”

“oh my god, please!” you wail, “please let me cum, daddy, please! i wanna cum with you!”

“good girl, that’s my good girl, make a mess all over my cock— i want to cum inside of you so fucking bad,” hyuka whimpers, throwing his head back.

“no, daddy you can’t, you’re not wearing a condom—!”

and you’re not on the pill either. but the risk gives him a rush, makes him ache to pump a load deep inside your pussy. his thrusts grow erratic, a clear sign that he’s about to cum.

“daddy, pull out!”

kai does it just in time, thick hot ropes of cum spraying across your thighs and tummy. his thick veiny shaft slides against your engorged clit, just the stimulation needed to cum yourself. you squirt all over kai’s belly and pelvis, the force of your orgasm so strong it knocks the wind out of you.

“… oh my god, did you just squirt?” hyuka crows, eyes sparkling at the way your spent pussy throbs from the aftershocks. “i made you do that? that’s so fucking hot, can you do it again?”

[gripefroot]

Taken in the Night

You wake with a gasp, muffled by the hand covering your mouth. A hard body presses against yours from behind, the bedroom dark enough to indicate it can’t be long past midnight. Then, warm breath on your neck, a whisper:

“Don’t make a sound.”

In an upper bedroom of the baker’s house in town, your winter abode, the danger of the baker finding Law in your bedroom and then throwing him out in a fury was more than a distant fear. Across the house, something creaks. All you hear is your breathing, Law’s, and the frantic thudding of your heart. The baker is a man to throw out not only Law for uninvited entry, but you, too, for disregarding the baker’s fastidious rules about guests. 

Law, knowing little of all this, groans softly in your ear. 

“I missed you bad.” 

Your fingers grip his hand, pulling it away from your mouth. “You couldn’t have sent a note?” you hiss. “Don’t wake me up like that again!” 

“Okay.” Amenable of him, wasn’t it? Or he was distracted, with his arm tight around your middle, fingers groping. Then you feel his lips on your hairline, hot and insistent. A responding moan rises in your throat, but you swallow it. The baker, the baker…

“We can’t do that here,” you whisper. “They’ll hear for sure.”

Another creak. A cough. Above the roof, a whine of winter wind. The clouds yesterday promised a storm. It must have started, the early cries of a worse tantrum to come. 

“Come with me?” Law asks in a ragged voice. 

Even if you want to be annoyed with him, it’s impossible. It’s impossible with the heat he presses into you, the hard angles of his body encompassing yours. Something about your racing heart and how hungry he sounds could get you to agree to anything. 

“We can’t take the stairs,” you murmur.

“Won’t have to. Hold on tight.” He squeezes tighter. You grip his arm, fingernails digging into bare skin - hadn’t he worn a coat? - for the split second before the world tilts and shifts and bursts around you. 

“Ouch!” 

The landing was hard, a slab of metal with all your weight and Law’s weight sending you straight to bruises. When you try to sit up, your head hits something equally hard, but this time, it’s his head. 

“Ouch!” you cry again. 

“Sorry, sorry!” Unusual repentance for him. “I thought the pillows were on the bed but they must have fallen to the floor. It’s storming outside.”

Orientation came in stages. The storm - wherever Law has whisked you off to is shaking side to side, slowly, in great swells that make your stomach churn uncomfortably. Your eyes adjust to the milky blue lights glowing from various points of the room. A bedroom. A bedroom with a small bed with blue covers (or they were simply blue in the light) and a desk and cupboards and shelves. The books and knickknacks on the shelves must be secured in place, to not be falling off with each rise and fall of the room. Law sits back on his haunches, strangely abashed as he watches your face. The blue light makes his eyes as velvety black as a summer night, and just as warm. Abashed? Now why would he be…

“This is your ship,” you say faintly. The throb from where his head bashed into yours heightens in intensity. “You brought me to your ship.”

“Sorry.” There, that’s more normal. He’s not sorry at all. That devilish smile transforms his face. “I’ve heard stories about your landlord. And I’m not gonna give you up. Even if it’s just for a night.”

Just for a night? 

Law plucks off his hat, running his opposite hand through his inky hair, making it stand on end. “We’re only passing through,” he says. “My crew wanted to go deeper to avoid the storm to make it to our next port by morning, but…”

There’s a wealth of sentiment in what he doesn’t say. The room rises and falls twice more before you give in and have mercy on the man, smiling as you get onto your knees. It’s more stable - somewhat. The familiar twist of sadness and joy winds around your sternum, again and again, making your insides a proper candy cane of contrasts. Everything about Law was so good and so wretched, all at once. It was horrible. And wonderful. 

“Well, it’s only fair,” you purr, scooting closer. Law doesn’t move, his eyes hooded as his eyes rivet on your face. Then, your mouth. “You know my bed. It’s time I acquaint myself with yours.”

His throat bobs. You lean in. “Only fair,” he repeats in a croak. “But - most of the crew is sleeping. There’s two on watch. You’ll have to be quiet.” 

“The crash of our entrance is okay but a few little moans aren’t?” The question is a whisper, breathed against his skin. He’s near enough to kiss, but why ruin perfectly good foreplay? One side of his mouth lifts. 

“Crashes are normal,” he murmurs, reaching up to touch the ends of your hair. “Moaning is not, I’m afraid.” 

“What a sad life your crew must live.” 

“If I’m doomed to sleep alone, they oughtta, too.”

“So. You’re a tyrant as well as a thief, a tease, and a bully.” All three things which you’ve called him before. He remembers, too, because he snorts true amusement despite the sardonic gleam of his eyes. The blue light is enough. Enough to treasure every feature of his face, but not too much to ruin the hazy dreaminess soaking around in a mysterious place in a storm. 

“Don’t see you complaining,” Law says. The tip of his tongue darts out to wet his lips. Thinking you’re about to kiss him, most likely. He’s eager. He’s eager and he’s charming and he’s Law, which is the best part of all. 

“Do you think of me while you’re here?” you ask softly. 

“Yes,” he says at once.

“What do you think of me doing?” It’s bait. He knows it, too, because he snorts again. Undeterred, you suggest, “Reading some of those books, perhaps? Writing letters at the desk? Folding blankets?” 

“Definitely,” Law plays along in his characteristically dry tone. “In fact, my favorite way to think of you is sweeping the floors.”

“Sweeping! Where’s the broom, then? We can play into this little fantasy of yours.” 

“Later.” He seizes your wrist when you make you stand, keeping you in place. “Why not a different fantasy first?” 

“Oh?” It’s impossible not to smile. It’s impossible to keep the joke going, too, because if it’s only going to be one night, the desire to spend it teasing each other pales in appeal. Law must sense this, because he lowers his head, stealing a kiss that makes your heart pound and your skin to go tingly from head to toe. 

His thumb strokes the inside of your wrist when he pulls away. A good kiss, but not enough. Never enough. Rising on your knees, you shake his hand off to wrap your arms around his neck, dislodging his hat once and for all. 

There. That’s better. A longer, deeper kiss; the rasp of his facial hair on your sensitive skin while his hands roam up and down the shape of your curves before resting on your hips. And every second your body moves, moves with the waves of the sea and the desire Law so skillfully conjures. Life is so still when he’s not around - expectant patterns that repeat every day. And then he shows up and whisks you away in the middle of the night because he wants you, because he wants to see you.

But not because he loves you. He’ll never say it. Maybe he doesn’t need to. That old conversation rankles, from time to time, but only when he isn’t there. And right now, he is. 

Your hands slide beneath his shirt, taking advantage of perpetually-undone buttons to slide the entire garment right off his shoulders. His skin is smooth, rippling from muscles as delicious to feel as they are to see. The hardness of the metal floor sends aches through your knees when he drags you closer, by the hips, until every heave of breath touches your chest to his, his eager mouth plundering where you’d meant to do the plundering. Lungs tight, you break away for air. Law does hesitate: his whiskered chin scrapes against your neck while his lips and tongue do wonders on your neck. 

“Oh, Law,” you say, half-piteously. “Why can’t it be longer than one night?”

He doesn’t answer. Why would he? You know, and he knows you know. His response is to grip you by the backside, standing steadily despite the gale outside and all around, to tip you onto the bed. 

His eyes are the dark depths of a sea, black and beckoning. He doesn’t look away while he undoes his belt and pants button. Gnawing on your lips, your legs squeeze together, as if that’ll help. 

“Kinda like your nightgown,” he drawls. 

“Oh,” you say again, with just as much self-pity. “If I’d known you were coming, I’d have worn something different.” It’s an old wool thing, meant for warmth during the winter more than seducing handsome ship captains coming to claim their woman. Consciously, you put a hand to the ratty ribbon around the collar, mercilessly cut in several places from tickly threads over the years.  

“I ain’t lying,” Law says. “I mean it.” 

“I don’t believe that for a second,” you say crossly. 

A mischievous light catches in his eyes. Oh, no. Whatever brilliant inspiration he just had, probably won’t end well for you. 

“I’ll just have to prove it to you, then,” he says. Pants shaken off, he crawls onto the bed stark-naked. Apprehension about his intention makes it less of a thrill than usual. “Oh, c’mon,” Law says with a hint of exasperation. “Stop looking at me like I’m some kinda creep.” A laugh huffs out of him as he shakes his head. That reaction makes you more mulish. 

“Only a creep would be turned on by this rag,” you say. 

“Ever considered that I’m turned on by you, not by what you wear?”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Do,” he says. “Until then - ”

He ropes his arm around your back, dragging you across the bed and over his body. Your leg swings over his hips in an attempt to stay balanced, which mostly, you think, gets him what he wants. He settles in against the mattress, shining with lazy triumph. Your breasts are pushed against his chest until his arm loosens enough to allow you to rise. He’s successfully perched you right on his groin, skirt of the nightdress flowing around like a shroud of modesty. 

“Trafalgar Law,” you say severely, though the irresistible urge to laugh bubbles incessantly in your throat. 

“Present,” he says, lacing fingers behind his head. He gazes up at you, like a child would the night sky. When the fondness in your chest makes it hard to speak, he tacks on, “Leave the nightgown on. I want you to think of me whenever you wear it from now on.” 

He’s too much. Too cocky, too sweet, too honest. It hurts. 

His smile doesn’t fade when you lean over him again, this time kissing him with all those feelings wanting to get out. Law isn’t one for feelings, and frankly, you aren’t either. Not when the recipient can use them to hurt you. And Law could hurt you like no one else, because he’s like no one else. Would he? Would he be so cruel? Perhaps not - but he also never stays, so he is cruel, even if he doesn’t mean to be. 

He accepts the tender pace. His hands are all over the nightgown, plucking at the fabric with theatrical, appreciative groans. 

“The hem,” you pant. “You can grope me from the inside.”

Evidently, Law can’t take the joke much further, because he takes your advice and slides his hands inside the nightgown. His hands go up your bare legs, down your back, making paths from limb to limb. Without warning, his hips bucks and his teeth bite down on your bottom lip. 

“Ouch!” Hopefully, cries of pain are also normal on the ship. You sit back, rubbing your mouth with a scowl. 

“Sorry. It was the storm.” His hands stop on your hips, hindered by underwear. His eyes are shadowed, squinting slightly. “Will you believe that it’s the storm if I rip these off?”

“No,” you laugh. “But go ahead. They’re old, too.” 

Underwear discarded in three pieces (ripping one seam would make a tidier job, but this is Law), there’s nothing left between skin. His lips are parted, breathing steadily between them, though his expression is anything but steady. Tipping your hips forward, the sensation of his erection rubs against you. 

The kissing made you sensitive. The slippery sensation brings out a tiny moan, not too loud, and Law’s response is much louder. 

“I only tease you because it makes you wet,” he says, his voice low and rough enough to be a growl. 

“You make me wet,” you tell him, sliding over his cock again. “Not the teasing. Like you said about my nightgown.” 

His crooked half-smile promises more teasing, so you bend over to kiss him to keep him quiet. It works - partially. No teasing, but his responsive noises to each little motion are enough to turn your veins to fire. 

Time stops. Each swell of stormy wave feels longer than a passing moment, each whoosh of desire flooding your body saunters instead of shoots. Law’s fingers make paths in your bare skin, one inch at a time, as if he, too, feels the yawning stretch at the cusp and refuses to rush it. 

Why does it have to be only one night? 

Better one night than no night. 

The ship rises and falls. When waiting feels like a shackle instead of a long-lasting sunset, you reach between your bodies to slide him inside. The waves help with that, rocking up and down and up and down. Law’s eyes are almost inscrutable, hiding what he doesn’t want to say or share behind those walls he puts up. Silly man. He’s let you in too far already; almost as long as you’ve known him - hiding can’t erase that. 

“You’re so good,” he says. “You’re my good girl.” 

A shiver spreads from your neck downward, the tips of his fingers brushing gently against your throat. Eyes close. Your hips go forward and back, fighting against and moving with the storm while pleasure swells thunder. Moans vibrate your throat, but go no further. Finally, with a gasp, your eyes flutter open, though you don’t stop riding him. 

So, this is what he looks like in his own bed. The blue softens his face, the swallowing blankets and pillows make him less the tattooed vagrant and more…well, more an ordinary man. The kind that could stay, if he wanted, not the phantom who comes and leaves like a storm. Gold earrings wink reflections of blue. And his expression…it must be nice for him, you muse, putting in the lesser amount of work. But it’s nice for you, too, to watch him experience it with such a lovely view. 

“That’s it,” he mumbles, a little like thunder himself. “Tell me how much you like it.”

“Why don’t you?” you say. “You’re the one being lazy.”

Law peeks open an eye, but he only grins. “I like it alot,” he says. “And I like that you’re sassing me.”

“I can tell.” With a smile, you slow your pace, taking your sweet time to take him deeply. A short grunt from him betrays how much he likes it. His eyes glaze over. His fingers dig into your hips, trying to move you more. 

“I want you to come.” The words rasp out of him. “Then I wanna switch.” To prove his statement, he thrusts upward, slow but delicious as stars burst behind your eyelids. A gasp parts your lips. 

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s okay. Keep going. Do what feels good.” 

It must be near dawn by the time the bedroom is as quiet as Law threatened it had to be. Cuddled up in the blankets (the nightgown was discarded long ago), you breathe deeply the scent of his bed. Of him. Because he only came for one night. And now that night is ending, the prickling pain deepens. 

“Hey.” Law pulls your shoulder back, leaving a kiss on your bare skin. “Are you falling asleep?”

“No.” 

“I think I did.”

Bemused, you twist your head back, smiling at the glaring evidence: one of his cheeks is visibly red, even in the blue light, and a wrinkle from the sheets stretches from his jaw to his forehead. 

“Cute.” You reach up to pat his cheek. “You did enough work to earn a nap.” 

“I wanted to keep going,” Law says. “Sorry.” 

“Don’t worry about it.” Because if you’d had to go from lovemaking straight back to your tiny room in the baker’s house with your heart still racing and your skin still tacky from sweat, Law’s departure would have felt a thousand times more raw. Idly, you stroke his facial hair, then jingle his earrings together. His eyes crinkle with a smile, sweeter than you’re used to, but it’s still very him. 

“You’re gonna be tired all day,” he prophesies. 

“I don’t care,” you say. “I work less in the winter. I’ll take my nap later.” 

Later, when he isn’t there and you won’t lose your last moments with him. You don’t say it, but he must guess, because those dark eyes soften. 

“But you got your nap, so you’ll be fine,” you tease, rolling onto your back. Law hovers over you, grinning all the while like a satisfied cat. The storm had stopped - when? The rocking of the ship had noticeably slackened before Law had collapsed on the bed (and evidently fallen asleep) but it must have ceased completely while you were lost in dreary thoughts. Missing him before he left. 

Perhaps he reads some of that misery in your face, because his brows crinkle and he says, “Sorry I have to go.”

“You’re so full of sorrys today,” you say, put-out that you hadn’t concealed the truth of your feelings and he’d latched onto them. 

“Strange.” He picks up one of your hands, kissing each knuckle tenderly. What he is hiding, you can’t tell, because his eyes are lowered, hidden behind lashes and lids. “You know what?” he says suddenly. “I’ll buy you a new nightgown one of these days.”

“I thought you liked this one.”

“I do. But you don’t. And I want you to like it.” 

How could he say such sweet things and then leave? It’s the one part of him that you can’t understand. He goes out of his way to see you but still happily departs with the dawn? What logic was he clinging to? 

“Want me to take you back naked?” Law’s eyes shine at the prospect. “Bet your baker is awake and won’t notice all the noises we make.” 

Pursing your lips together, you seize a pillow to whack him in the face. He startles, then laughs. And laughs and laughs, when the pillow turns into a ball of dust. Your fingers close on nothing, the dust ball lost somewhere in the sheets when he tackles you. 

“Where did the pillow go!” you ask indignantly. 

“Don’t worry about it!”

But you don’t have the heart to exacerbate the joke, giving him the upper hand. The sun might be rising, but this night had more light in it than any day for a long, long time. 

If he has to leave, at least he leaves laughing.

[glossykissies]

maybe reader complaining about soldier boy smoking so he ties her up w a vibrator to her clit and smokes in front of her… 🤭 he’s so mean (we love it)

there wasn’t many things you hated, especially not when it came to soldier boy. you liked the things most people didn’t like about him — the fact he was ruthless, the fact he could be cold toward others, brutal. his character itself was perfect, and the more he was around you the happier you were.

what you couldn’t stand, was the smoking.

you get it, he comes from a different time before all the anti-smoking propaganda. he was mostly indestructible, so the health thing wasn’t exactly a concern— but he was getting too comfortable. smoking in your apartment, stinking up your pretty little living space — and that, you couldn’t do.

you come home from the bakery, baguette beneath your arm and a couple of moorish pastries bagged up in each fist ready to put away until you needed the snack — and there’s ben, staring pensively over the city, staring out your window, smoking.

“ben.” you pout, stopping your movements in putting away your purchases to lightly stomp your foot. “i told you.”

“told me what.” he hums, barely listening as he was clearly in deep thought. you huff, you hate when he got into these grumpy moods.

“you can’t just smoke in my apartment! atleast open a window.” you stomp over to the window beside him, pushing it open and staring at him pointedly. what you wanted to him to do, was chuck it out. but instead, he simply stares at you — taking a long drag. you purse your lips angrily, trying to think of another argument to make him speak atleast. “you know that’s bad for you.” you point your chin up, matter of factly. he reacts now, turning a little more toward you with a chuckle.

“for me? you do know i’m…” he taps a heavy fist over his lungs. “pretty indestructible, sweetheart.”

“okay, well have you considered that it’s bad for me? not everyone is a supe, you know.” you’re getting more and more hot and bothered by the fact he just won’t listen. he watches you before rolling his eyes up at the ceiling.

“you don’t seriously believe all that second-hand-smoke bullcrap, do you? god damn, what in the fuck are they teaching kids in school these days? school wasn’t that long ago for you now, was it?” his irritation turns to amusement as he smirks down at you cruelly, addressing the age gap between the two of you meanly.

“you’re being unfair.” you step closer, and he smiles, taking a drag before blowing a cloud of cigar smoke in your face.

“and what the hell are you gonna do about it, babyface?”

naturally, you throw a tantrum — and wind up right where you thought you might, on your bed with your legs spread. but your man isn’t between them, no. he’s pulling up a chair with a new cigar between his lips, having just finished tying you open on the bed, vibrator pressed firmly to your aching clit.

“now i’m not a bad guy, sweetheart.” he begins, voice rumbling deep making you clench around nothing. “am i? didn’t gag you, not yet anyway so you can fuckin’ respond when i speak.” he prompts, nodding to you before taking another long drag. the room is cloudy now, but not as cloudy as your brain.

“n—nuh—no!” you whine pathetically.

“too right. no. done a lot of bad things, sure. fucked up a loooot of people. but i’m not bad. not to you.” he pauses thoughtfully. another drag. you’re raw and aching and you just wanna cum but it’s just not enough. “so i think it’s fair… that i get to do whatever the fuck i want around here, and as long as i’m treating you like a pretty princess — you can’t tell me shit. does that sound fair to you?” he tilts his head, raising his eyebrows and you mewl. you want to say no. you don’t agree. but fuck, you loved him.

“yes!” you squeak.

“yes who?”

“yes sir.”

with that, he smiles slowly, reaching over and stubbing the cigar out on the ashtray he’d placed on your pretty pink dresser. standing, you finally see the length of him tenting his pants and you suddenly start feeling like maybe the little vibration he’s offered you is enough to make you cum, because you start throbbing.

ben cups your cheek, stroking a thumb over your forehead, then your cheek, and then tugs playfully at your bottom lip as you stare up, glassy eyed, whimpering and desperate. “sweet thing.” he tsks, giving in and kissing you.

he tastes like tobacco, and you don’t even mind.

[goldenngt]

Rainy days with you - Jude Bellingham

Just got drenched in rain on my walk home from work, it sucked but gave me this idea

Prompt: Rainy day where Jude gets drenched and you take care of him.

Established relationship, fluff

—————————————————————————

God climate change is a sucker, and the reason that what was currently an extremely hot and humid day had suddenly turned into a massive rainstorm. You pass by the window watching the blur of leaves clashing with water in the violent wind. Ugh thank god you’re inside, the rain looks like a nightmare.

You hear the familiar sound of your doorbell, you scurry over, expecting your boyfriend who had messaged you over an hr ago. Telling you he was on his way. Your eyes widen at the sight, standing in front of you is your drenched boyfriend, with sopping wet hair, shoes, and clothes that drip onto your carpeted floor.

“Jude? What happened, you’re gonna get a cold come here”

You pull him in dragging him by his cold slippery hands. He gives you a sheepish smile and playful roll of his eyes as he lets you drag him in, pulling him towards the bathroom.

“Sorry, I thought I would be able to make it, but the rain just came out of nowhere” he pads behind you, trying his best to not soak your floor.

You halt and turn to look at him, holding both his hands in yours and caressing them with your thumb, “you should’ve called me, I would’ve picked you up” you pout.

His face scrunches lovingly as he mirrors your pout, “ I didn’t wanna bother you baby”

You furrow your brows at this “I’d rather you ask me, then arrive here sopping wet about to catch a cold” you say with a firm tone.

“Okay I will next time”, he says swinging your hands back and forth in his, and then leaning in towards you to place a soft kiss on your nose. Your eyes close at the touch.

You let out a soft sigh, and then notice the subtle shiver of his body against yours making a frown form on your face.

“Come on, you need to have a shower so you don’t get sick.”

You drag him into the bathroom, turning on the shower and adjusting the water, feeling the temp on your hand before turning to look at him, you give him a soft smile and nod that it’s ready.

As you start to leave, Jude softly catches your arm and gives you a sly smile, “what you’re not gonna join me?”

You raise an eyebrow at the request and giggle, “no I’m not, now have your shower, or you’re gonna get sick”, you say pushing him towards the shower.

He lets out a playful groan as he starts to remove his clothes and step into the steamy box.

You close the door and grab a warm towel that you set out for him, then you rummage through your cupboards for a hoodie and sweatpants that’ll fit him.

Once you hear the shower stop, you walk back into the bathroom, passing Jude the towel, as he gives you a appreciative smile, and you plop his clothes on the bench leaving him to get changed.’

He comes out in the hoodie and trackies you gave him looking warm and soft. He gives you a soft grin that meets his eyes and you pat the floor cushion, motioning for him to sit down. ”Come sit, I’ll do your hair”, you have a towel, leave in conditioner and gel laid out on the couch next to you in preparation.

He complies, sitting cross legged on the floor as he finds himself pressed between your legs, still trying to hold back a shiver. Noticing this, you grab the throw blanket and wrap it around him, to which he gives you a grateful smile and nudges into you affectionately.

Now concentrated, you lean forward, opening the container of conditioner and brushing it through his curls with your fingers, he leans his head back into your touch and and lets out a soft hum in content, you continue to take your hands through his hair as you style and dry it, and he relaxes in your hold, his eyes closed and head tilted back as you get to work.

“Ok baby, all done” you tap him gently on the shoulder. He looks up at you, head still in your lap and puckers his lips at you for a kiss. This makes you giggle and you lean forward pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. When you pull away you both give each other a sweet grin, and he reaches up to grab your hand pressing it to his lips. “ thank you baby, you always treat me so well”.

This makes your heart flutter and you lean down to kiss his temple. “Hmm, can’t help it, I love you too much” you murmur against his skin.

He turns against you, moving up till he’s settled over you on the couch resting his head against your chest and nuzzling into you, “I love you too baby, always so good to me”, he presses kisses into your neck and you rake your fingers down his back. This continues as you let the sweet atmosphere carry you both into a deep sleep.

—————————————————————————

Wrote this on a whim.

Hope you guys liked this one - lmk what you think :))

[0and0its0doctor0]

Heat stroke

Spencer Reid X Fem! Reader

Summary: You are self-conscious about the scars on your arms so you wear long sleeves. And wind up getting heat stroke. Spencer takes care of you.

Warnings: Mentions of Self-Harm/Scars

Word Count: 1,010

“Oh god it’s like standing in front of a blow dryer!” You exclaimed as you stepped off the plane in Phoenix Arizona. It was July and the temperature on your phone read 113 degrees. And you were wearing long sleeves. “Why are you wearing long sleeves?” Derek questioned as he stepped off the plane behind you causing you to shrug.”I’m used to it. Besides, I didn’t know we were coming to Phoenix till I got on the plane..” The lie rolled off your tongue easy enough. “Didn’t you used to live out here? Shouldn’t you know better?” Derek asked and Spencer smacked his arm. “Leave her alone.” He muttered. Thankfully everyone got busy grabbing their bags and making their way to the hotel. Once inside the hotel room you pulled off your long sleeve shirt and your eyes drifted down to your arms. They were covered in cuts in varying degrees of healing. Some dated all the way back to high school and some were as fresh as a couple days ago. It was your secret, the way you dealt with your failures and the harsh reality of the job. It helped ground you. Part of you felt like you deserved it. That had been ingrained into your head from such a young age. That you deserved pain. You didn’t deserve to feel good. At least that was what your parents told you. 

The following day you were in long sleeves again and you could feel sweat dripping down the contours of your back, a bead of it trickled down the side of your face. It was hot. You could feel the heat radiating off the sidewalk as you and Spencer questioned a witness. Your face must have been red because Spencer placed his hand carefully on your lower back and pulled a bottle of water from his pocket so he could hand it to you. “Drink.” He commanded lightly and you felt your heart skip a beat. “Yes sir.” You took the bottle and chugged half of it. “Small sips. You chug it, you are just going to throw it back up.” He brushed a curl off your cheek and tucked it behind your ear, the gesture made you smile and you leaned in to the touch on your cheek. You and Spencer weren’t officially dating yet or anything, just a lot of heavy flirting. You finished the water slowly and the two of you went back to talking to witnesses. 

When you watch TV the bullet proof vests look easy and light, like a second shirt. No one told you how ridiculously heavy they were. And uncomfortable. You tugged at your sleeves as you stood behind Hotch with your gun drawn and pointed at the unsub. You guys had him cornered. Why was your vision getting blurry? You blinked several times and wiped the sweat off your forehead with your sleeves not caring if you smeared your makeup. Spencer’s eyes were on you and not the unsub. “She’s gonna drop.” He called out and as soon as he did your knees buckled and you hit the ground. Spencer wanted to run to you but he couldn’t. They had to leave you on the ground for a few minutes as everyone subdued the unsub. Once Spencer was free he had Derek help him drag you into the shade. He carefully took off your vest and tried to cool you off by fanning you with his hand. 

Emily tossed Spencer a bottle of water and he apologized before pouring it on your face. The shock of the cold water had you sitting up quickly which just made your head spin. “Easy now.” Spencer guided you to lay back down with your head in his lap. “We need to take off your shirt. You are overheated.” He informed you and you shook your head. “I can’t.” You mumbled and he looked down at you concerned. “Look whatever you are hiding we can work with okay? We can’t work with you if you are dead. Either I get you cooled down or you go to the hospital and they cool you down.” Spencer brushed some of the hair that was sticking to your forehead back and you sighed heavily. “Fine.” 

You pulled off your shirt which left you in a sports bra and Spencer’s eyes immediately went to your arms causing you to feel extremely self-conscious. He bit his lip and helped you sit up a little so you could take small sips of water. After your 4th sip you leaned over and threw up, Spencer held your hair back. His hand rubbing circles lightly on your back helped calm you down a bit. You looked up as Hotch walked over and looked down at you. “Is she going to be okay?” He asked, looking at Spencer. “Yeah I think she will be okay. It can take just 45 minutes to rehydrate. A study by The Journal of Strength and Conditioning Research found that after mildly dehydrated men consumed just 2 bottles of water, it took under one hour for their bodies to function in a perfectly healthy and hydrated state.” Spencer rattled off the facts easily, his hand continuing to brush your hair back as he spoke making you smile a little. “Alright well she’s your responsibility now.” Hotch nodded and Spencer grinned. “Wouldn’t want it any other way.” He said happily. 

You sat there with Spencer talking about nothing important while he nursed you back to health. When you got back to the hotel he insisted on staying with you to make sure you didn’t have any lasting problems from passing out. That was how you wound up curled up in bed with your head resting on Spencer’s chest, his fingers running through your hair and you listening to his steady heart beat had you quickly falling asleep. He kissed the top of your head and managed to fall asleep himself. Maybe things would be okay. Maybe you did deserve love. Spencer was going to make sure you felt that love.

[littleindulgences]

If he were in the business of being honest with himself, Simon would admit that he was actually kind of nervous. He turns the blank white envelope over and over in his hands, watching you from across the mess hall. You’re sitting with a squad of recruits today, getting to know them for reasons he can’t fathom. Your smile warms him all the way from here.

“Ye just got to do it, LT,” Soap remarks with his mouth full. “‘S the only way to put it to rest.” Simon just grunts. He’s still a little loath to admit that he has a crush on you—it’s childish, and embarrassing, and compromising…

But he can’t help it.

He watches you exit the mess, the recruits trailing after you like ducklings. The envelope twists in his hands.

“She’s got range duty for the next two hours,” John says with raised eyebrows as he takes a sip of his drink. Simon purses his lips under the mask. His team stares at him pointedly.

“Ah, fuck off,” he grumbles, rising from the bench and walking off. “Arseholes.”

“Good luck, LT!” Soap calls after him. Simon flips him the bird. The Scot’s cackle follows him out.

Ghost wanders into the barracks, taking a winding, looping route that doesn’t do anything but make his apprehension worse. He finally forces himself to take Johnny’s advice and just fucking do it, and he marches right up to your locked door and slips the envelope underneath.

There. Nothing more to do but wait.

What the fuck. What the fuck. The note lays flat on your cot, rather unassuming, except for the newspaper-cutout letters and the thick black marker scrawling out a time, a place, and “You’ll Be Mine” with a little heart underneath.

“Well that’s…terrifying,” says Alicia, your bunkmate.

“Mhm,” you say. You’ve been staring at it for five minutes.

You found the envelope on the floor when you came back from training. It was blank except for the puppy dog sticker on the back, clearly intended to mimic your callsign: Watchdog. You’d opened it without a thought and found this, a threat/ransom note of what you think was meant to be a valentine.

“You’re not gonna go, are you?” Alicia asks.

You suck in a breath through your teeth and make a noncommittal noise. Alicia throws her hands up.

“Babe. You will get snatched if you go.”

“Not necessarily! Besides, if I go, then I know who sent this to me and can like…confront them or something,” you defend.

“Or you could take this to Price and report it,” Alicia deadpans, ever the voice of reason. You wave her off. She rolls her eyes and stands, bumping your shoulder. “Whatever. I’m heading out, my girlfriend’s waiting for me. Please try not to get kidnapped?”

“I’ll do my best,” you reply and give her a peck on the cheek.

But there are no guarantees in your line of work, and this is no exception. You narrow your eyes at the note. Bring it on.

You came. Holy shit this is farther than Simon thought he’d get. His palms feel sweaty. Did it get hot out all of a sudden?

“Ghost, you gotta calm down, mate,” Gaz whispers, motioning at him to breathe.

“I’m fine,” Simon snaps. You’re right there, turning every so often, peering into the dark with that look of concentration he loves on you. He can imagine the way your nose wrinkles and the way your tongue pokes between your teeth.

Simon shakes himself. Get it together, soldier.

“Alright, it’s go time!” Johnny whispers, and nudges Simon out of the shadows. “Go get ‘er LT!”

Simon takes one last deep breath and starts across the field to you.

Whoever invited you here is fuckin’ late. You’ve always been of the mind that early is on time and on time is late, which is most people’s opinion here anyway. And the note said 2100 hours! It’s coming up on 2105 now.

The note didn’t even name a meeting place, either, just coordinates that led to the massive oak tree behind the shooting range. Which isn’t suspicious at all. You turn in a slow circle every so often—head on a swivel and all that. While you were all bravado with Alicia earlier, you were a little tiny bit worried that maybe something would happen. You made sure to bring your bear mace with you, in the end. Just in case.

You’re about to call it quits and head back when a huge meaty hand falls on your shoulder.

Before you can blink you’ve whipped around, depressing what has to be half the canister on your attacker. They crumple, and you take the chance to plant your hands on their shoulders and your knee in their balls, sending them into the dirt. You take off running. Your heart climbs into your throat. Holy shit, Alicia was right!

You’re so caught up in your escape that you don’t notice where you’re going until you run smack into a barrel chest. Strong hands catch your arms and hold you upright.

“Woah, woah, lass! What was that?” It’s Soap, and he’s staring at you with a mix of horror and confusion. You see Gaz sprint off in the corner of your eye.

You’re out of breath. “I-I got this weird-ass note earlier,” you try to explain, “and it said to come out here? But it didn’t say who it was from and ‘Licia was worried I’d get kidnapped, and then that creep showed up—”

“That’s not a creep, that’s fuckin’ Ghost!”

“Huh?” You twist, and sure enough, Gaz is helping Ghost’s hulking form off the ground, supporting him as he struggles against the effects of the mace. Fuck.

Gaz and Simon stagger over. “We need to get him to medical,” Gaz says. You bury your face in your hands.

You sit awkwardly on a stool next to Ghost’s cot as the nurses irrigate his face. Price, Gaz, and Soap hover in the corner, talking quietly amongst themselves and occasionally looking over at you. You’d shown them the note Ghost had apparently given you.

Eventually the nurses leave Ghost be for a minute, and that’s when Price jumps in.

“Okay,” he starts, then turns to you. “Watch, you aren’t being stalked. Ghost wanted to give you a valentine rather than actually talk to you, against our advice.” Then he turns to Ghost. “Simon. Why.”

Ghost shrugs and frowns down at his lap. “You all said that valentines are ‘sposed to be secret. I knew she’d recognize my handwriting, so I improvised.”

“And you didn’t think that maybe you could just type something up?” Gaz asks. Simon shrugs again, but you can tell he’s blushing under the mask.

“Soap said handmade ones are better,” he admits quietly. The group turns to Soap. He gapes.

“Oh, like this is my fault,” he grumbles.

“I’m sorry for startling you,” Simon says, addressing you directly for the first time. “I just wanted…” He trails off, glares down at his lap.

“I’m sorry for macing you,” you tell him. “And for kneeing you in the balls.” Price facepalms beside you and you scramble to think of something else. “I—I liked the dog sticker, though!”

“Yeah?” Simon glances up at you. You can tell he’s grinning, and you smile back.

“Yeah,” you say. “Put him in my notebook.” The both of you sit there, smiling at each other like idiots.

“All right, ye two, tone it down,” Johnny chimes in, and Gaz elbows him. Price rolls his eyes and herds them out. You watch them leave, then turn back to Ghost. He’s picking at his cuticles, a rare show of vulnerability.

“Simon?” you say before you can overthink it.

“Mm?” He looks up at you. A stray sunbeam touches his face, turning his puffy, red-rimmed eyes into melted chocolate. You feel yourself flush.

“Would you…maybe want to go to dinner sometime?” you ask. Simon straightens on the tiny cot, and yeah, he’s really smiling now. Your heart kicks up a few notches.

“I’d love to,” he says. “Please don’t bring the mace.”

[emotionalhottiee]

Broken 💔

Jimmy Uso/Jonathan Fatu

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise stated, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events in this fanfic are either the product of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner.

just a quick oneshot until i get over this writers block. Hope you enjoy.

Heart Broken…

Doesn’t even begin to explain how i feel. How could he do this to us?

Thoughts of frustration and brokenness ran rampant through my mind as hot tears poured down my face. After all i had been through with Jonathan how could he throw away everything we had. My mind ran back to walking into his condo, opening his bedroom door to be met with an image of some ig thot, bent over while the love of my life was behind her. My heart shattered had into a million pieces.

Now the tears I’ve been crying out, for the past 30 minutes have blurred my vision. Thinking about that day against my will. But seeing him tonight made the memory pop up. Even though i knew there was a slight chance he would be at our friends birthday party. Actual seeing him, just felt like another knife being jammed right into my heart.

“Kenzi, are you alright in there?” “You’ve been in this bathroom a long time” my friend Kiara screamed through the door.

I hadn’t even realized i had been in here that long, but i just couldn’t stop crying. Watching Jon strut up in this party with some new girl on his arm. As if the last year and a half meant so little to him, he could move on within days. LITERALLY 5 days ago i caught him in bed with another woman.

And now it’s saturday, and he bought a whole other woman with him. Damn, How many others were there? I thought to myself as i wiped the tears from my bloodshot red eyes. Trying to cover up the fact that i been in the bathroom of a mutal friend of ours,sobbing over this man. What did i ever do to make him be so cold & callous towards me?

I have to pull myself together! I tried to tell myself encouragingly, i am not going to let him see me, so vulnerable. For what? He doesn’t seem to care in the least bit. Too busy fake laughing at the girl with her ass hanging out of her shorts.

He’s knows her ass ain’t that funny.

As i finish up wiping my face, one last time. Before i could even get myself all the way out of the bathroom Kiara yanked my ass into a tight hug. She knew i needed this that’s why she my friend.

“Girl don’t let him make you sad. Fuck him, you deserve so much better.” She calmly stated to me rocking us back & forth. This is exactly what will make my ass start crying again. But i am so thankful for my friend, trying to keep me from being sad.

Against Kiara’s advice i decided to stay at this party. This was one of Jon & I’s mutal friend, I’m not gonna let him feel like he has won (Even though he totally has won).

I put on my bravest face to go back and chill, before our friends pull out a game of taboo. We had split up into two teams and of course i end up on a team with Jon & his whore of the week. It was almost as if God was punishing me for still wanting to be around him. But truth be told i was obsessed with him. I loved him more than the air i breathed.

And as much as i can possibly lie to myself, i know he loves me too.

*some time later*

The party winded down, Kiara & I were helping our friends clean up. Jon’s little girlfriend ended up leaving. I thought they would’ve rode together but i guess not. And I’m honestly kinda happy about that. He’s been staring at me all night. Now that he’s alone i know where this night will take us. Especially since i rode with Kiara.

Jon asked me if i needed a ride home, knowing damn well i don’t like driving at night. I tried to act like i had to go back with Kiara, she gave us a shrug letting us know she didn’t mind. She knew me too well. As much as she wanted me to stand up for myself, she knew where my heart was. And wanting to be there for me she wasn’t gonna fight me on it. I appreciated that. Giving her a hug goodnight she gave me eyes of pleading, but with a hint of be careful. I rubbed her arms up & down letting her know i’d be okay.

The ride back to Jon’s house was quiet at first nothing but low 90s R&B playing. But he eventually turned the music off. He grabbed my hand while holding the steering with his other and apologized for his actions within the last week. My eyes filled up to the brim before a tear rolled down my cheek. I couldn’t even respond. I just held onto his hand, he bought my hand up to his mouth still holding it kissing it ever so gently. This is the soft, caring Jon i feel in love with. For a quick second he looked at me our eyes staring into one another. Until he turned his eyes back to the road.

This is going to be a great night.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Conrad fisher for the ‘’We should go swimming.’’ prompt with skinny dipping? Smut if you it

Warnings: nudity

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

‘’We should go swimming,’’ Conrad suggested, laying down on the patio couch with his legs over your lap and a blunt between his lips.

You hummed in agreement, taking the blunt from him and taking a puff. There was nothing better than a night swim after being hot all day.

You exhaled slowly, blowing a cloud of smoke up the air so the skunk smell would not get inside the house. ‘’That sounds really nice, but I don’t have my bathing suit on.’’

Conrad shrugged, not seeing a problem. ‘’You don’t have to. Let’s go skinny dipping,’’ he said with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

You laughed, shaking your head, assuming he was kidding.

He sat up and took back the blunt from you. ‘’I’m serious.’’ He brushed a piece of your hair, his hand going down your neck and the decolletage of your dress.

‘’You’re insane,’’ you said back, swatting his hand away before he could reach the front tie. ‘’I’m not getting naked in your family pool again. We almost got caught the last time—’’

Conrad shook his head, flicking the ash off the end. ‘’Not in the pool, the ocean.’’

Swimming naked in a private pool was one thing, but in the ocean? What if some pervert in a nearby house sees you? What if you get stung by a sea urchin? What if your clothes get blown away by the wind and you have to get home naked?

‘’I’m gonna pass.’’ You took the blunt from Conrad, but he held it away from your reach. ‘’Give it to me, Con,’’ you sighed, pouting your lips at him.

‘’No swimming, no weed.’’ A playful smile curled on his mouth. ‘’Come on. The sun is down, there’s no one at this hour. I’ll be just you and me.’’

Your heart was pounding as you and Conrad made your way down the beach, pushing away thoughts of who might be watching from the neighboring beach houses. He held your hand, leading you to a part of the beach that was darker so you would feel safer.

Once he deemed the spot secluded enough, he peeled his shirt off over his head and chucked it in the sandy ground before doing the same with his shorts, not very body shy.

You reached for the tie of your dress and pulled at the knot, the front coming loose and revealing your bra and panties. They didn’t match, but neither did Conrad’s socks.

The rest of your clothes came off in the soft moonlight, your bodies bared to the warm summer breeze. It felt strange to be naked on the beach, but Conrad was there to make you more comfortable, reassuring you with a gentle kiss and sweet nothings.

‘’Holy fuck, this is cold,’’ you hissed, feeling your nipples get hard as your feet touched the water.

Conrad rolled his eyes, water already to his knees. ‘’It’s not that bad.’’

You shifted uncomfortably, not so sure about this midnight bath anymore. ‘’I think I’m gonna back out on this…’’ You made a move to step back, but Conrad grabbed your middle and lifted you off your feet, dragged you farther in the water despite your protests. ‘’Conrad, no! Let go of me! Put me down! Conrad—’’ you pleaded, but it was too late.

A sudden wave crashed from behind, sending both of you tumbling into the cool water.

You both bursted into laughter as you emerged.

‘’That was not planned,’’ Conrad said, shaking his head and wiping his face to get the salt water out of his eyes.

You wanted to be mad at him for throwing you in the water, but the unexpected turn of events was just too funny. For someone who spends his whole summer surfing, how did he not remember to never turn your back to the ocean?

‘’Shouldn’t you know to never turn your back to the ocean?’’ you teased, looking at him across the distance the waves took you. He was so pretty in the moonlight that you couldn’t seem to stop looking. His wet hair and defined chest, the smile across his lips.

He snapped you from your staring by swimming toward you in a moment and pulling you against him, wrapping you in his arms. You relaxed against him, leaning your head back on his shoulder, enjoying the moment in Conrad's embrace.

‘’It’s nice, isn’t it?’’ he said softly, his lips right by your ear.

It was indeed very nice.

You turned in his hold, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him softly. He tasted of salt water and the weed you shared before coming down to the beach. You hummed into his mouth, dragging your hands through his wet hair, an invisible bubble forming around you.

Conrad deepened the kiss as you pressed yourself closer to him. He felt your pebbled nipples brush against his chest and pulled away. ‘’If you play that game, I don't think I can make it back to the house in time.’’

Instead of breaking from him, you kissed him again, this time more passionately, and wrapped your legs around his waist. The feeling of your whole body against him went straight down.

For someone who didn’t want to go skinny dipping, you were very into it now.

An owl’s hoot echoed through the night, mixing with your soft breathy sounds as Conrad started trailing kisses down your jaw and neck, nipping at the delicate skin occasionally between his sweet pecks. His hands slid up your sides while yours dug into his shoulder’s tanned skin.

‘’Are you sure about this?’’ he whispered in your ear, taking your earlobe between his teeth and your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. You gasped and he groaned, your midnight bath taking a more PG-16 turn.

‘’Yes.’’ 

—

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[beweepbomp]

I NEEDED TO URGENTLY VENT BECAUSE IDK WAHT ELSE TO DO.

A lil background. I knew my sexuality as like early as 12. I had two gfs but never anything physical. Now as adult trying to venture out to physical things with another woman. This person we will refer to as Lizzy, from the convos we had never was with a woman in any manner ever but interested to try with me. Okay now this is the insane shit i went thru. enjoy.

Lizzy matched on tinder with me and she asked after some great chit chatting to exchange #'s. Sounds great what could go wrong. After several back n forth spicy texts of what we want to do finally we say hey we should definitely meet up. A few days pass by to finally our meet up date. Science. Ghosted. Okay no biggie. 19 DAYS LATER “Hi i got busy how are you?” I brush it off things do happen and I’m trying to be reasonable. I reply with a hello. No reply again. 40 DAYS LATER “How are you?” At this point I roll my eyes. This is not worth the energy but wow she’s actually replying back idk maybe just shit happens. She tells me it’s been a busy summer travel & work. Okay fair. She shows me cute magnets she made and tells me she’s house sitting.

After a few text exchanges she’s asking me to come over. I get hesitant but she insists. WHAT COULD GO WRONG I SAY? I text her I’ll get ready and take an Uber over. Let me tell you i was giving femme hotness. My skirt was so hiked up. My cute shirt low v cut. Had a jean jacket since it was late into the night. I’m jittery with excitement. I call my best friend she gets the address and says to text me after etc. I order the Uber which was $30+ DOLLARS but i was too excited to care. In the middle of my Uber drive she texts she’s having a panic attack and throwing up. I feel awful. Did i freak her out? But i kept reassuring that we don’t need to do anything physical even when i arrive. No pressure. Assuring to have full consent before engaging in anything. But she insists she’s stuck in the bathroom throwing up and to turn around. Now I’m over 20 minutes away from my apartment around 11:30pm in the middle of the damn suburbs. I arrive and ask by text if i can just sit in the living room until the next Uber comes she says no. I’m outside alone in a foreign place terrified. I video chat with my best friend explaining the situation and she’s in shock as well. Putting me in danger in the middle of nowhere , just alone. Just perfect. My gay ass in the wind trying to remain calm since the streets are barely lit and i have no immediate way home. The connection to data is shitty but im able to order another Uber. Another $30+ out of to go back. But it’s fine no one’s fault right.

She insistently asks texting when my Uber will ber here. My connection isn’t great but it shows 9 minutes. It’s been at least 8 minutes now but the Uber isn’t properly showing the accurate time. My best friend what a god send kept me sane as i waited but a car pulls up and it definitely isn’t my Uber. “Oh i thought you were the girl im meeting with.” OH MY GOD i laugh almost loosing my mind. I point to her house, “oh no no she’s in there.’ Thankfully my Uber arrives as the guy calls out you’re beautiful. Oh thanks bud. Lizzy texts me to say that’s my friend helping me with my panic attack. of course i say seriously you have to be fucking joking. I freak out on her thru text and she insists she’d never intentionally try to put anyone in danger and every other excuse in the book and STILL try’s to see if we will meet up again. Of course i tell her she is fucking nuts and maybe next time be a hospitable hoe if you’re gonna be a hoe at all. I’m not against it but also don’t make a crazy lie and embarrass me. I have no idea im like crushed to seek out afraid to have the same experience of wacky shit. What do i do???? Help pls

[areyoufuckingcrazy]

“The Worst Luck”

ARC Trooper Fives x Sith Assassin!Reader

⸻

Hidden in the caverns of a storm-ridden world, the Separatist outpost buzzed with dark energy. Most didn’t know this base existed—most weren’t meant to.

You patrolled its halls like a shadow: cloaked in darkness, lightsaber at your hip, Count Dooku’s orders in your comm. You weren’t just his assassin. You were his favorite one—fast, brilliant, and loyal. Or so he thought.

The GAR must’ve caught wind of this place, because they’d sent two of their finest headaches in armor: ARC Troopers Echo and Fives.

One was bleeding. The other was missing. And your patience?

Wearing very thin.

⸻

You pressed Echo against the cold metal of a cell wall, your red blade crackling inches from his cheek.

His expression was equal parts pain and smugness. “You sure this isn’t personal?”

“Would it make a difference if it was?”

“Not really. I just like to know how far up the creep scale we’re going.”

You leaned in, amused. “Where is your partner?”

Echo raised a brow. “Fives? Trust me, he won’t let you take him alive.”

You tilted your head, amused. “Is he really that dangerous?”

Echo actually snorted. “No. He just has the worst luck I’ve ever seen. I once watched him fall down a set of stairs and somehow set off every detonator in the room. We weren’t even carrying that many.”

You blinked.

Echo nodded sagely. “The man’s a one-man catastrophe. If he’s still loose in here, odds are he’s somehow about to crash a starfighter into the medbay by accident.”

You smiled—despite yourself. “I’ll be sure to leave a fire extinguisher out for him.”

⸻

Fives was, predictably, not following the plan.

He was crawling through a duct that was way too small for his armor, holding a deactivated blaster, and whispering threats to Echo’s comm signal.

“Echo, if you’re not dead, I’m gonna kick your osik for getting caught,” he muttered. “Also, I may or may not have just dropped a thermal detonator in the hangar bay. Might wanna move.”

No response.

He sighed. “Great. Now I’m talking to myself.”

A cold voice echoed from below: “You’re not very stealthy.”

His eyes widened. “Oh—nope—”

You launched your saber.

Fives dropped like a sack of bricks through the grate, rolling with a very undignified grunt onto the hallway floor, armor scuffed, ego intact.

He grinned up at you from his heap. “Fancy meeting you here.”

You stalked forward, eyes narrowed, saber blazing. “You broke into a classified base.”

“Well technically, Echo broke in. I just… fell in.”

He scrambled to his feet, brushing dirt off his pauldron. “Look, do we have to fight? Because I’d rather just stare at you for a bit. You’ve got the whole angry-warlord look down, and I gotta say—it’s doing things for me.”

You blinked.

“…Did you just flirt with me mid-arrest?”

“Oh sweetheart, that wasn’t even my best line.”

You attacked.

The duel was fast and reckless.

You moved like smoke—twisting, striking, your saber slicing through the air with lethal precision. Fives fought dirty—improvised, unpredictable, ducking under your blade and throwing whatever he could find your way: a tray, a datapad, a coffee mug.

“Seriously?” you growled, batting it aside.

He grinned. “Didn’t hit you, did it?”

You kicked him hard in the chest. He flew back, slammed into a crate, and groaned. “Okay, that one’s fair.”

You advanced, steps slow and measured.

Fives coughed, wiped blood from his lip, and looked up at you with defiant heat in his eyes.

“Go ahead,” he rasped. “Kill me. Bet I’ll still look better dead than half the seppies in this base.”

You stopped.

Laughed.

Actually laughed.

He blinked. “…Was that a smile?”

“No.”

“It was. You smiled.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re insane.”

Fives pushed to his feet, panting. “Takes one to fight one.”

You circled each other, breathing hard.

“Why didn’t you run?” you asked.

Fives tilted his head. “Maybe I wanted to see what a Sith assassin looked like up close.”

“Disappointed?”

He smiled. “No. You’re terrifyingly hot. It’s messing with my aim.”

You exhaled sharply through your nose. This idiot. This attractive, sharp-tongued, insufferable idiot.

You deactivated your saber. “You’re lucky I find your stupidity charming.”

“You’re lucky I can’t feel my ribs.”

“…You didn’t break anything.”

“I break everything. It’s kind of my thing.”

You studied him for a long moment, head tilted.

Then you spoke, soft and curious: “Why does he call you Fives?”

Fives gave a crooked grin. “Because my number is CT-5555. Or maybe because I only ever have five brain cells working at any given moment.”

“…That tracks.”

⸻

You shoved Fives into the room beside Echo, who was now sitting up and mildly annoyed.

Echo blinked. “Oh kriff. You’re still alive.”

Fives grinned. “She likes me.”

Echo stared at you, then him. “You’re unbelievable.”

You smirked and crossed your arms. “He tried to fight me with a mop.”

“It was tactical,” Fives shot back.

“You fell over your own foot.”

“It was a strategic stumble!”

Echo groaned. “I’m surrounded by morons.”

You leaned against the door, eyes flicking between them. “Tell me, ARC Trooper—how long before the Republic sends a team for you?”

Fives shrugged. “Long enough for you to fall in love with me.”

You narrowed your eyes.

He winked.

And Maker help you—you didn’t immediately stab him.

⸻

The cell was dim and humming with tension. Echo paced like a caged animal, checking the cuffs on his wrists every few minutes. Fives leaned against the wall like he was on leave at 79’s, smirking every time you looked at him.

And you?

You’d made the mistake of hesitating. The mistake of not killing them when you had the chance.

Something about that idiotic grin. Something about the way Fives joked with death like they were old friends.

It irritated you.

It fascinated you.

You turned your back on them and checked the comm unit outside the cell. The transmission coming through wasn’t Separatist.

“—this is General Skywalker, approaching target coordinates. Standby for breach.”

Your blood ran cold.

No. Not now.

You tapped the panel. “What kind of breach? How far out?”

The droid on the other end fizzled. “Jedi cruiser approaching from the lower stratosphere. Their forces have jammed exterior defenses. Two gunships inbound.”

You spun around. Fives was watching you carefully now.

“You’re nervous,” he said softly.

You ignored him. “You said the Republic wouldn’t come.”

“I said long enough for you to fall for me,” he said, grinning. “Apparently they’re faster than I thought.”

You pulled open the cell and grabbed his collar.

“Whoa—”

You shoved him into the wall, pinning him with your arm against his chest.

“You know what’s about to happen, don’t you?”

Fives didn’t flinch. “Looks like the cavalry’s here.”

“Your Jedi are going to tear this place apart.”

“Yeah. And if I were you, I’d get real comfortable with the idea of changing sides.”

You glared. “I don’t have a side.”

Fives smirked. “No, you have a job. You follow orders. You’re good at it. But I’ve seen that look before. You’re not sold on this war anymore.”

You hesitated.

He tilted his head. “Come with us.”

“Don’t be ridiculous—”

“I’m serious. You’re strong, terrifying, weirdly hot—Echo agrees with me.”

Echo shouted from the cell, “I do not!”

“You’re not like the others,” Fives continued. “You hesitated. You didn’t kill us. And I don’t think that’s just curiosity.”

You looked at him—really looked.

And he wasn’t wrong.

But before you could speak, the walls shook. A violent tremor rattled the floor. Sirens flared.

They were here.

“Get down!” you shouted, instinct pulling you faster than thought.

The ceiling cracked open above, and the cell block exploded into fire and debris.

Gunfire.

Smoke.

Blue and white armor filled the halls.

You pulled your saber and moved, deflecting blaster bolts while droids scrambled to regroup.

Fives grabbed Echo, ripping the restraints off his wrists.

Echo stared. “You sure about this?”

Fives looked at you, still holding your saber like it wouldn’t touch him.

“Pretty sure.”

You blocked a bolt that would’ve taken off his head and glared. “You’re going to owe me for this.”

“Oh, trust me,” he grinned, “I’m already planning the thank-you speech.”

You turned your back on the fight—on everything—and ran beside them through the collapsing base.

⸻

Outside the base.

The fight was chaos. The 501st swarmed the compound like a storm. AT-RTs thundered through mud and smoke, and blasterfire lit up the sky like fireworks.

You ducked behind a transport with Fives and Echo, heart hammering.

“You’ve got to be joking,” you muttered.

Marching toward the base was Skywalker himself, saber drawn, flanked by Ahsoka Tano and Captain Rex.

You exhaled slowly. “I just betrayed the Separatists for that guy?”

Fives beamed. “Jealous?”

You shoved his helmet back on. “Shut up and run.”

⸻

Later. On the Venator.

You sat alone in the medbay, cloak scorched, hands trembling.

You hadn’t spoken since you boarded the ship.

Echo had gone to debrief. Fives… had stayed.

“You alright?” he asked quietly.

You didn’t answer.

He stepped closer. “You saved us.”

You laughed bitterly. “I doomed myself.”

“You did the right thing.”

“I don’t even know what the right thing is anymore.”

He knelt in front of you. “You didn’t hesitate back there. You chose.”

You looked down. “I’m not like you.”

Fives gently reached for your hand. “No. You’re not. You’re smarter.”

You blinked at him.

“I mean that,” he said, eyes warm now. “You’re terrifying. And brave. And brilliant. And also—can I kiss you now or do I need to duel you again first?”

You actually laughed—a real laugh.

Fives leaned in. “Is that a yes?”

“…Just shut up and kiss me.”

[ymiahha]

🍓🚬 | strawberries and cigarettes always taste like you. (Sanji x Fem!Reader fanfic – · ep. 1)

📑 – · | 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰: sanji attends a party to find someone to replace his ex with, only to find out that not a lot of women he saw there felt good enough. but everything changes when he meets a pretty lady who asked to light her cigarette...

❗ – · | 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐬: this whole fanfiction is based on the song “strawberries and cigarettes” by troye sivan. this story takes places in a college au. it will be told in sanji’s pov. this ep is sfw! contains cursing and smoking. y/n will appear like a mary sue, but, in later eps, will be shown that she isn’t. hopefully not too ooc.

🗨️ – · | 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫: hellooow! 💖 i’m ymiah, but i also go by eula (both are internet names). i’m an aspiring sanji x reader author (not limited to that tho!) and this is my first ever post here on tumblr! i rlly hope i’m welcome here! 🫶 i’m looking for moots who have the same interests as i do (interests will be added in a pinned post... hopefully soon? but you can comment/send me a message for now, if u want to! :'>). i am open to recommendations and tips! if this post doesn’t do too bad then i’ll continue to upload future parts! (⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠)

I sighed wearily as I climbed up the stairs to the topmost part of this building. Stupid elevator was broken. This dumb party Luffy invited— no, dragged me to is a bust. There was no one there who I actually liked.

He bribed me by saying there was gonna be a lot of hot babes... and to be honest, he was right, but... I dunno, none of them felt right. I mean yeah, they had awesome knockers and big butts, but I wanna find someone who wasn’t half as bad as my ex. Tsk.

“Just drink it off, bozo,” Zoro had yawned. “Alcohol saves problems.”

“Yeahhh, no,” I had declined his offer, my smile intoxicated with sarcasm. “Thanks, but I’d much prefer a referral, y’know what I mean?”

“I know! There’s this party my other boys are throwing, there’s gonna be lots of chicks, Sanji!”

“I don’t really—”

“You’re going! I refuse your refusal!”

I arrived at the terrace. I leaned my arms on the bar, admiring the city view dully with my blonde hair blowing in the wind.

I was so lost in my own thoughts I didn’t even hear the soft footsteps from behind me.

“Hey.”

I turned, eyebrows slightly raised. I was surprised to see a gorgeous girl—(color) hair, (color) eyes, brown coat. She had a short, black, pencil skirt on, pairing it with brown boots. Her outfit put mine to shame—I went to the party in my usual blue long-sleeved polo, with black slacks. It kind of annoyed me how there was now a white chalk stain on the side, for some unknown reason.

In between her fingers was a single cigarette.

“Light my cigarette, will you?”

I blinked. Instead of replying, I gestured my head for her to move next to me. She did.

I took out my lighter and she placed the cigarette in between her pinkish lips. It took a few lights for it to budge, but after three or four lights, it worked.

We stood in silence, the only sound being the rustling wind, the faint party music and noise, and the puffs of air from this lady’s cig.

“So, what brings you here?”

I was slightly startled to hear her speak. Curse that voice, it was so damn soft and alluring to the point it kinda gave me goosebumps.

“Got dragged. Climbed up here ‘cause I couldn’t stand the volume.”

“Hah, same. Want a cig?”

“Yeah, why not.”

She handed me a cigarette. I placed it in between my lips and lit it up.

“I didn’t quite catch your name.” I said, blowing out puffs of air.

She coughed softly. “Y/n.”

“Sanji.” I introduced myself. “All my friends get on my back for smoking all the time.”

“You smoke all the time? Shit, so do I. I smoke whenever I feel like garbage, and hell, life is garbage.”

“Which leads you to—”

“—smoke all the time—” we said simultaneously.

“—yeah.” She added. We laughed together.

“You seem pretty cool, Sanji. Wanna hang out sometime?”

I couldn’t believe this beautiful woman was actually offering me to go on a date with her. Is this whole moment even real?

I chuckled. “You’re pretty bold, asking the guy out. Shouldn’t it be the other way around?”

She smirked and removed the cigarette momentarily to speak. “You were taking too long.”

“Alright. When are you free?”

“Tomorrow night.”

“It’s a Sunday, aren’t you gonna be busy?” I glanced at her. She was a few inches shorter than me, just up til my nose.

She chewed the insides of her cheeks before replying. Finally, she shook her head. “Not really. Are you gonna be busy?”

I gave it some thought, just like she did. Me and my family were supposed to go to church tomorrow evening…

“Not really.”

“Then it’s settled. We meet at Akebono Fields. Tomorrow night 8 PM, you, me, and my car.” She looked at me, smiling.

She was rather… dominant? Assertive? Damn.

“You have a car?”

“Yeah, my dad handed me his old one when he got a new one.”

“I take it you must be rich?” I asked, sort of impressed. She had immense beauty and immense wealth, what else could she ask for?

“I guess you could say that.”

Wow. This girl was casually blowing my mind, just like that.

Silence. She reached inside the pocket of her jacket to pull out her phone.

“It’s nearly midnight. I should get going.” She blinked at me with those long eyelashes and gorgeous eyes.

“See you tomorrow, pretty.” I said unconsciously, lost in her gaze.

She merely giggled, tapped her cigarette to put out the light, and, with one final glance, waved to me before descending the stairs.