#if you love the ship can you be content with loving that small part of the whole

[tls12lessthan3]

yoo joonghyuk is a ship of theseus but if instead of replacing the planks the ship of theseus was built upon for centuries until it's original planks were such a small fraction no one could even remember they were there or where to find them. does this make sense

[bugeyedfreaks]

Having a rare pair in a fandom is hard, but try also having a rare pair that is also your OTP and is also constantly misinterpreted, maligned, and mangled, partially due to having the literal worst and meager fandom content imaginable to represent it. 😩

[imawreck]

Darkness

Pairing: Winter Soldier x Reader

Summary: You're left with flushed cheeks and a shared secret with the darkest part of Bucky Barnes... and you want more.

Author's Note: You guys fucking DEVOURED the last one so this is the sequel to the previous part, His. It makes more sense if you read the other first! If you like this content, drop a comment or an ask and I'll be sure to write more like it in the future! It gets a little feral and I won't apologize for it. Also, there is possibly a part three on the table if this ship sails like the last.

Warnings: Choking kink, metal arm kink, Cursing, mentions self loathing/guilt (it’s Bucky, kinda normal), Possessive!Winter Soldier, hair pulling, fingering, Dominant!Winter Soldier, hickeys, bruising, PnV, praise kink if you squint, licking, oral (fem receiving), knife play (?) and probably some more but those are the big ones.

Word Count: 6,899

It had been two days.

Two days since you’d tried and failed to lure the Winter Soldier into a cell. Two days since you’d felt his hands on your body.

Two days since he’d given you a taste of what you could have.

He’d left his mark on more than just your skin. Though bruises and love bites littered your neck, it was your mind that he’d left the most impact on.

There was hardly a moment you weren’t thinking about him, about Winter. About what would’ve happened if the agents hadn’t stormed the stairwell. If he’d been able to keep going.

And you wondered if you’d ever get another chance to see.

Bucky had recovered, his mind once more his own. You didn’t know if he remembered, or if he would say anything to you even if he did. It’d been radio silence from everyone in the tower other than Steve, who’d been checking in on you to make sure you were really alright. You were sure Thor would be here hounding you if he was on the planet too.

Apparently, the earpiece had fallen out a little after he’d cornered you. So Steve and whoever else that was watching over you didn’t hear much of the conversation you’d exchanged with the assassin. They’d had to rely on the cameras, which hadn’t been able to see you past the wall of a man caging you between his arms.

Which means none of them had seen what had happened, that this was something only you carried the knowledge of. A small part of you was relieved.

That still left one question unanswered: Did Bucky remember?

A sharp knock jolted you from your thoughts, dragging you back to the present. 

Blowing out a breath, you got up and headed towards the door. “Steve, I told you I’m fine. I—“

But when you opened the door, it wasn’t Steve on the other side.

It was strange how different those blue eyes were when it was Bucky at the wheel instead of Winter. Lively, pooling with emotion where you’d seen cold calculation and unbridled lust just days before.

It was guilt swimming in those eyes now, red rimmed and bloodshot. His dark hair was disheveled like he’d been running his fingers through it all afternoon, and he wore a loose pair of sweats and a black long sleeve despite the summer heat.

He looked scared and out of place standing in the hall.

“I—uh, hey.” A poor attempted smile wobbled onto his face, and he brought his flesh hand up to run through his hair—a nervous habit he had when he was uncomfortable or anxious — just like you’d guessed. “Can we talk?”

You opened your mouth to answer him but no words left it. You could only stare up at him and nod, feet shuffling back to pull the door open further.

Bucky’s frame squeezed through the door and he padded further into your space with wandering eyes and furrowed brows.

It was impossible not to notice the changes you’d made in the last few months since your breakup. Bucky used to frequently stay with you, favoring your bright and comforting space over his own empty room. You liked your knick-knacks, and you were a sucker for creature comforts so you always had the softest blankets and the fluffiest pillows. And you’d always made sure Bucky had things he liked in your space.

You used to keep his favorite coffee stocked in the mini breakfast bar you’d made on a bar cart, and his favorite pillow and throw blanket was always neatly folded in the armchair by the window. You’d even set out copies of his favorite books in case he wanted to relax in your room instead of the commons area or his own space. 

But now it was gone. The little pieces of him you’d made room for were removed along with the photos that used to line your walls and bookcase. Save for the one, of course.

And it stung to see the reality of what he’d done, the choice he’d made now reflected in the absence of everything he’d built with you. 

He pried his eyes away from the empty shelves of your bookcase and glanced back at you, shuffling his feet awkwardly. “I… Steve said that I went after you when I got back.”

His statement hung in the air for a few seconds, silence crowding you both and making him tense his shoulders the longer it remained. 

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out, “I can’t imagine how awful that was for you. I-I never wanted you to see me like that. That- He’s not me, okay? God, I’m so sorry.” His fingers scraped over his scalp as he clenched his teeth, turning away and pacing a few steps.

Bucky couldn’t look at you, not after what he’d done. What he’d forced you to witness. He’d never wanted you to see him like that. It was one of his worst nightmares when you had been dating, and now it was a brutal reality.

“Bucky,” you started, but he cut you off.

“Did I hurt you? Did… did I do something to you?”

It struck you then that he didn’t remember what he’d done. What Winter had done. And your room was too dark at the moment to see what remained painted on your skin from the encounter.

You were both relieved, and utterly frustrated. Now what do you do? ‘Oh yeah, Bucky! I let you finger me with your metal arm in a stairwell for shits and giggles while you were all killer mode. No biggie.’ And then what, ask for him to do it again?

Yeah, definitely not.

“You didn’t hurt me, Bucky.” Your legs moved on their own accord, drawn forward by his obvious distress and the instinctual need to sooth his worries. “I’m fine, really.”

Bucky finally turned to face you, his eyes filled with sorrow. He chewed his cheek, his eyes searching your face for any hint of a lie. “I can't remember what happened, there's just glimpses.” His voice lowered, softened by the weight of his words and the fear woven in his tone. “But I can feel him. Stronger than before. Something’s different this time.”

You stilled at that, eyes glued to the side of his face. 

“I can feel what he felt. I-it's like he’s just behind a curtain.” His right arm came up, his index finger tapping his temple, “Waiting.”

The haunted look in his eyes twisted a knife of guilt in your gut. You didn’t want him to feel guilty for what had happened, but it was unfortunately normal for Bucky. You understood it, respected his boundaries and his need to do anything he could to keep you safe. But you wanted exactly what he was keeping from you.

You wanted it so badly.

Could you tell him? Could you confide in him this secret you’d kept from lovers in the past? Something so twisted that you’d only shared it with someone equally as sadistic as you were flawed? Bucky was so much more important to you than any of them had been. You… you felt deeply for him. And it was obvious that the unknown was weighing on him heavily.

One more look at his shattered expression gave you your answer.

With a frustrated huff, you reached for his hand. You tugged it from where it’d curled itself into his hair again, and led him to the edge of your bed. “Bucky,” you started, keeping your voice as gentle as you could. “I need to tell you something. It’s going to be hard to understand, and you’ll probably think very differently of me, but I think it might lessen the burden I can see you’re putting on yourself.”

Bucky’s eyes fixed on you. Those brows furrowed over confused and tortured eyes, but it was obvious that he would listen.

You bit your lip, beginning to sweat as the nerves rattled through you. “First of all, I… I haven’t told anyone this. It’s not something I’m proud of, but rather something that just is. And it didn’t start with you. I mean—,” you let out a sound of frustration, “Fuck, I mean I didn’t date you because of it. It just sort of grew more complicated as we got closer.”

Those brows furrowed more and twisted his face into more concern than anything.

You kept going. “When you came after me, I was scared. Of course I would be.” You winced at the hurt that flashed in his eyes, but continued on, “But I also… I liked it.” 

A shaky, bitter laugh left you. “I liked the chase. I liked it when he cornered me against the wall, when he—,” you paused, a feeling akin to resignation and begrudging acceptance settling into your bones. Your eyes found his metal hand, gazing at the light bouncing off the silver metal. “When he choked me with that hand.”

You buried your face in your palms, tears of shame threatening to leak from your eyes. “You didn’t hurt me. He didn’t hurt me, Bucky. He just brought to light these things I thought I’d kept from you.” 

With another breath, one that felt like needles sinking into your lungs, you went on. “He made me feel good, Buck, in all the ways I’d always hoped you would someday. I feel like the worst person in the world for thinking that, for feeling the way I do, but I can’t help it.”

You couldn’t meet his eyes. Shame was writhing in your stomach and threatening to consume you. Tears pricked your eyes and wet your palms that still remained pressed to your face. 

Bucky didn’t say a word, and you just let the silence thicken the air. You’d already said everything there was to say.

Your sin was bared for his judgment. “I get that you don’t want to be with me anymore—“

“That’s a lie.”

Your head snapped up at that, teary eyes wide as you took in his surprised expression. An expression you watched morph into confusion, and then something else. Realization, maybe.

Bucky went on, “I never wanted to stop being with you, Y/N.”

A piece of you settled deep in your soul at that confession, and you leaned in to listen. Every word from his lips an answer to the question haunting your every thought for the past three months.

“On that mission, we came across intel that there might be a mole in the tower and that they were going to try and trigger the Winter Soldier. I… I was scared, Y/N.” Grief washed over his face as he folded his hands together, knuckles turning white. “I was so scared that you’d see me like that and be afraid of me. I was terrified of hurting you, of— of killing you, that I had to make it look like you didn’t matter to me. I had to make it real, so that whoever saw you and I would think you didn’t matter and leave you alone. I was trying to make you less of a target.”

Your heart thundered in your chest at his confession, at the thought that these past two months of utter disaster had been the result of Bucky trying to protect you from himself. 

“You could’ve talked to me,” you muttered, sniffing and wiping your face in a poor attempt to rid it of the mascara you knew had run. “You could’ve told me what was going on.”

Bucky’s head shook, “There wasn’t time. You have to understand.”

You nodded, even if you didn’t truly understand. The guilt and remorse on his face told you he was on the edge of crumbling, and if agreeing with him kept him from breaking, you’d give it to him.

Another long silence blanketed the two of you. You watched his face, his eyes, as his mind mulled over the information you had exchanged with him.

Those blue eyes found your’s after a while, something steely in them that wasn’t there before. “Friday?”

The AI of Stark Tower answered politely, “Yes, Mr. Barnes?”

“Initiate Soldier Protocol in Y/N’s room and cut camera feed. Don’t alert anyone.”

Soldier Protocol. 

Your eyes widened, and a chill ran over your skin. Soldier Protocol was something Bucky had come up with when you’d first started dating. It was a safety protocol installed into yours and his own room to ensure that if the Winter Soldier was triggered, it would keep whoever was in the room safe, or keep whoever was trying to get inside from entering. It was a double edged sword, really, because if you were trapped in the room with him, then you couldn’t get out. Bucky had made sure to teach you some basic self defense moves on the very slim chance that would ever happen and had shown you ways that you could use to evade and make an escape to the bathroom if needed. Even though you’d thought of all the holes in the protocol, you couldn’t bear to voice them if it helped ease Bucky’s nerves knowing that if something were to happen, that you’d have an extra wall to keep him from getting to you.

“Confirm Command; Soldier Protocol, Miss Y/N?”

You hesitated, voice wavering just the slightest as you whispered, “Are you sure?”

Bucky nodded slowly, giving you the confidence you needed to answer the AI.

“Confirm Soldier Protocol, Friday. No alerts or cameras.”

The calming voice answered once more. “Command Confirmed. Soldier Protocol initiated.”

Your eyes followed the windows as metal safety doors shut out the dim light of the day. One after another they locked out the outside world and left the two of you inside the confines of your bedroom. 

You and Bucky, and your confessions.

“He wants out, Y/N.” It was barely a whisper, but the low timbre of Bucky’s voice reverberated in your bones. “He wants you.”

There was concern laced in his words, but there was also more. So much more that you knew you’d have to talk about later. You’d have time to unpack all of this, what it means for the two of you, later. Right now?

Right now you needed Winter as desperately as you needed air.

“What… How can I help you, Bucky?” Your hands shook at the thought of Winter's return. Of what it would bring.

Bucky pulled his lip between his teeth, his hands running through his hair before twisting themselves in his lap. His eyes were wide, as if he didn’t quite believe he would say the words spilling from his own mouth. “I want you to trigger the Winter Soldier. Feeling him there— it’s driving me mad. An-and now that we know he won’t hurt you and that you… you want him—.”

You reached for his hand, concerned that if he kept squeezing them as tight as he was that he’d break bone. “Bucky, it’s okay.” You tilted your head, smiling softly at him, “Take a breath. There’s a few things I want to set straight before we jump into this.”

His voice lowered, “Okay.”

Bucky was obviously torn up over this whole thing. And as excited as you were to repeat what went on in that stairwell, this was someone you cared about for more than just sex. 

This was Bucky. 

This was the man who’d apologized with the biggest bouquet of flowers you’d ever laid eyes on the day after your first encounter with Winter. The same man who’d apologized for months after with cute little notes and trinkets he knew you loved and still kept in that shoebox under your bed. The exact same man you’d opened your heart to one Saturday night over a tub of butterscotch ice cream and the third playthrough of your favorite movie. He didn’t complain that you’d watched it back to back either.

This was the man you’d fallen in love with in just a few short months.

The realization settled into your heart, and that warm tingly feeling swept over you as you tightened your hold on his flesh hand and reached for his metal one too.

Bucky hesitated, jerking it away for a moment before allowing you to tug it into your lap. “Buck,” you started, thumbs swiping over his hands in slow calming paths. “It isn’t just the Winter Soldier I like about you. You know that, right? Because if you don’t, I’ve failed as your lover. And as your friend.” 

Those blue eyes darted between your own, searching there like a man searching for salvation. You gave his hands another squeeze, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I… I love you, Bucky. You. I think I’ve known for a while now. I was just too scared to admit it out loud. I haven’t had the best run with guys in the past, and you’re so good that I was afraid I’d ruin you somehow.”

Your eyes fell to your joined hands, and this time he was the one to squeeze back.

“I know it’s kind of shitty timing, but I need you to understand that I’m not with you for any other reason other than the simple fact that I adore you, Bucky Barnes. Everything about you.” You shook your head, frowning. “I meant it when I told you I wasn’t with you just because of Winter. I’ve always had this attraction to… well, you know. Dating you just made it more difficult to hide when you were obviously so uncomfortable with it. I didn’t want to make things hard for you. I just wanted you to be happy.”

“Doll,” he mumbled, the name drawing your eyes to him. You’d always loved it when he called you that. “Say it again.”

You frowned, confused for a moment, before a small smile drew itself onto your face. “I love you, Bucky.”

A choked sound fell from his lips before his arms circled around your waist and pulled you into his lap, his face inches from yours. “Again. Say it again,” he begged, his  breath fanned over your face as his fingers fisted the back of your shirt. “Please, doll, say it again.”

You folded your legs around his hips, threading your fingers into his hair and peppering kisses on his face. “I love you.”

“Me?” It was the most broken sound you’d ever heard.

You grabbed his face, tilting it up to look at you and tried your best to pour every ounce of love into your expression. “You, James. I love you. I’ll say it a billion times if I have to until I get it through that ridiculously handsome head of yours.”

He laughed at that, broken as it sounded. “I love you too, Y/N. God, I fucking love you.”

Soft lips crashed into yours, dancing a familiar dance as his flesh hand slipped under your shirt and glided up your spine. Your breath caught as the cool sensation of his metal fingers followed after it, his arm wrapping around your back. You smiled against his lips, leaning into him more.

You nearly pouted when he pulled away.

“Y/N,” those eyes, less uncertain and more determined now, swept over your face. “I want you to trigger him.”

You frowned, “But Bucky, you—.”

“I need this.” His voice was surprisingly steady, “I need to do this otherwise it’ll drive me mad. Feeling him there— Jesus, it’s like someone’s scraping a knife against my skull.”

Metal fingers drew circles against your back, “Are you okay with… with seeing him again? I’m not confident enough to do what he did yet. I need more time to come to terms with the damage this hand has done.” He pulled the appendage away, looking it over before his eyes found you again. “But I… I can tell he won’t hurt you. I can feel it,” he pulled his flesh hand away and pressed it over his heart. “Right here.”

He laughed, almost incredulously. “Even the Winter Soldier has fallen in love with you.”

All you could hear was the pounding of your heart in your ears. He wanted you to trigger the Winter Soldier. He said that he loved you, and that Winter did too. 

It would really fucking suck if you were dreaming.

“I don’t know your words,” you mumbled, suddenly shy in the light of his proclamation.

This time, the smile he gave was one that reminded you of those old photos from the 40s you’d seen in the history museum. The one where the left side crooks up a bit more than the right. He didn’t release you, but instead wrapped his left arm around your hips and leaned back to rifle through the top drawer of your nightstand for the notepad you always left in there.

He pulled it back to himself and released you only long enough to scribble down a few words and tear off the page. “You’ll have to memorize them. I don’t want them to leave this room.”

You nodded, because of course he wouldn’t and you’d rather swallow hot coals than ever betray him. Your eyes scanned the page a dozen times when he handed it to you, lips moving in silence as you played with the foreign vowels. 

All the while those strong hands of his trailed along your back and hips, sometimes exploring your upper thigh. 

It made your mind foggy, and you had to keep yourself from squinting to focus.

After you’d finally memorized them, you remove yourself from Bucky’s lap and padded over to your bookcase. You snagged the candle lighter from a shelf, and then removed the bag from your trash bin. It took a few tries, but once the lighter ignited, you let the flames eat away at the page before dropping it into the bin and watching until it was nothing but ash at the bottom.

You could hear a breath of relief leave the soldier from where he remained seated at the edge of your bed. He looked somewhat relaxed, but a tension still ran along his shoulders.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” You returned to the bed, smiling a bit as his arms wrapped around the back of your thighs.

Bucky hummed, low and steady. “M’sure, Doll.” He leaned his head against your stomach, and your hands found his hair on instinct.

He hummed again at the touch, and his arms tightened around your legs before he lifted you. Bucky turned quickly, one knee coming up onto the bed before he laid you down with a thump on the mattress.

You smiled, laughing a little as you bounced from the sudden drop. Bucky grinned back, his eyes shining. “Missed you, you know. I’m sorry for not telling you.” He leaned over you, hands planting on either side of your head. Nothing but honesty shined in those blue eyes as he looked down at you. “I’m sorry for wasting three months, and I promise I won’t do that again.”

Butterflies stirred in your belly, and you could feel the flush of heat on your neck as you leaned up and planted a kiss on his lips, “Better not.” 

Before you could think much of it, Bucky reached over and flicked the lamp on. You were too busy feeling fuzzy inside that you’d forgotten the very prominent marks littering the delicate flesh of your neck.

Marks that would always make Bucky drown in guilt.

“Fuck, doll.” 

He stared at your neck, horror painting his face in the lamplight. His body lifted until he was sitting on his knees over you, hands resting on his lap like he didn’t know what to do with them as he took in the damage he’d left.

This is exactly what you didn’t want to happen. “Hey, no—,” you gripped the front of his shirt, the sudden motion catching him off guard as you pulled yourself up to his face, forcing him to look you in the eyes. You would’ve liked to yank him back over you, but you lacked the ability to battle his serum-enhanced strength. Sitting up did just fine.

“You don’t get to feel guilty for this. Not now, and not anytime after this if you… if we’re serious about doing this.” You stared him down, unwilling to allow him even a glance away. “I told you, I liked it. I told you that it didn’t hurt. You need to trust me as much as I trust you in this. That’s the only way this,” you motioned between you both, “is going to work.” You lowered your voice, nearly mumbling the last part. “I can’t take another step back, Buck. Not after three months, and definitely not after that.”

Bucky’s eyes danced between yours for a few moments. They darted down to your marred skin and back again several times before he blew out a breath and nodded reluctantly. 

Your shoulders eased too. 

“Now come back here and kiss me, soldier. Your girl’s in need.” You smiled, quirking a playful brow in an attempt to draw him back in.

It worked. That smile pulled at his lips, small at first but quickly blooming as you began peppering his jaw with kisses.

The kisses started gentle and exploring, and the touches soft and sweet. You hadn’t felt his skin against yours for three long months, save for two days ago, and you’d missed everything that made him Bucky.

You’d missed how the stubble of his chin brushed your cheeks when you kissed, and how he held your face like you were the most precious thing he’d ever touched. Delicate and worthy of worship.

You’d missed him so much it hurt.

“Bucky,” you panted, tugging his shirt as you kissed him. “I love you.”

A deep, rumbling groan left him, and his tongue swept across your bottom lip. “I love you, Y/N. So damn much.”

His flesh hand cupped the back of your neck and guided your head to the side so he could place the tenderest kisses over each hickey Winter had left. “He’s a brute,” Bucky mumbled against the column of your throat, stealing your breath. “If he hurts you–.”

“He won’t, James.” You pressed your forehead to his shoulder, biting your lip as his flesh hand trailed all the way from your neck to the base of your spine. “I know it.”

You only got a hum in response before his lips crashed into yours again. Bucky’s hands were everywhere, confident and warm on one side and tentative and gentle with the other, much colder one. The contrast sent delicious tingles along your skin wherever he touched and only served to heighten your anticipation.

This was the first time Bucky himself had allowed so much of a brush of his metal arm against you, let alone tender touch.

His palms mapped every dip and crest of your body, his touch growing more needy with each sweep of his skin against yours. His tongue slid over your lips again, a silent request that you were all too happy to accept.

You couldn’t help the satisfied sound that escaped you as the taste of him swept over you, familiar and strong. Things only hastened from there. It was like a switch had flipped and he couldn’t bear not to have his hands on you.

He kissed you hard, chasing you with lips and tongue like a man starved. The feather light touches of his hands turned more firm as he held your hips and pulled you closer. Bucky’s chest heaved, his breaths fanning over you between kisses in hot puffs.

You could tell he was still holding back. That he needed this as much as the burning need in your core told you that you did. “Bucky,” the sound was practically a whine, “Please.”

His fingers curled against your hips, “Fuck. Okay, okay.” Wet kisses were trailed down your neck as his hands slipped beneath your shirt to sweep calloused thumbs over your aching nipples. “Say them, doll. Say the words.”

You deserved a fucking gold metal for succeeding to pull your mind out of the fog he’d clouded your brain with. It always happened with him. Your mind just short circuited every time he cast you a heated glance, and this? Well, it was a miracle you could remember your own name.

You opened your mouth, the words you’d memorized tumbling out one after another. 

“Longing.” Bucky grunted, but didn’t stop in his ministrations as you spoke the next. 

“Rusted.” Another grunt, and a tremor through his shoulders, but his lips never left your skin. In fact, it just seemed to spur him further as his hands tugged your shirt down to reveal the delicate skin of your breasts.

“Furn-,” you gasped as his lips locked onto a nipple, tongue teasing expertly over the nub. “Furnace.”

The hum he released sent skittering tingles across your body in the most delicious way.

“Finish, baby.” 

Fucking hell. What was the next word?

“Daybreak,” his hands lowered to your ass and held it firmly against him as he licked and sucked the sensitive skin of your breasts, never missing a beat. “Seventeen.”

Those devilish hands dragged lower, fingers trailing along the seam of your panties through your leggings and along the underside of your thighs where they met the curve of your ass. Inches from where you needed him most.

You could barely suck in a breath, utterly overwhelmed by the sensation of his mouth on your skin and those hands mapping your body in agonizingly slow strokes that sent waves of need straight to your core. “Benign,” his body arched over yours, easing you into the mattress, “Nine.”

Another shudder this time, and you could see the ripple of muscle beneath that tight black shirt. God did you want it off of him.

“Homecoming.” 

A groan, and a shake of his head. It was the first indicator that he was uncomfortable.

 You hesitated at the pained sound, but you didn’t have time to ask a thing though. Not when his head snapped up and those wide, wild blue eyes found yours. “Don’t stop,” he panted, cheeks flushed.

So you didn’t.

“One.”

Wet lips trailed kisses down the exposed skin of your stomach, the tips of his dark hair trailing down as he kissed past your naval and kept going. Lower, lower, lower…

“Freight Car.” The words sounded strangled in your throat through your labored breathing.

The kisses stopped abruptly, and Bucky’s body went stock still.

You weren’t even sure he was breathing until the even rush of an exhale swept against your stomach.

And then he chuckled.

 It wasn’t the kind you’d normally hear from Bucky. It wasn’t filled with joy, or playfulness. This one sounded depraved and downright corrupt.

The hairs on your neck raised, and that sharp bite of panic jolted through you as you stared down at his large frame hovering over you. You couldn’t see his face from this angle, and the lack of any hint of what was going through his head only heightened the tension building in your body.

“Told you, didn’t I?” His voice was a rumble in the silence, and you gasped when his tongue swept a path up the center of your belly. “You fucking need me.”

Cold fingers hooked the waistband of your leggings and shucked them off in one quick motion, the cool air assaulting your exposed skin and leaving goosebumps in its wake. You simply stared up at him and tried to remember to breathe beneath the weight of his eyes on your body.

Those cold, lust-lidded eyes.

“Winter,” you breathed, a thrum of excitement mingling with the nerves tingling under your skin. The ache you felt was at the forefront of your mind. Bucky’s gentle touches had served to stir the need that was already brewing.

Now, Winter has come to finish the job.

He smiled, slow and sultry. “Needy little thing, aren't you, Dollface?”

You bit your lip as heat crept up your neck.

Winter’s body rose to his knees, his hands curling around your thighs in a bruising grip and lifting them over his shoulders. You yelped, but it didn’t stop him. Those thick corded forearms locked your legs in place over his shoulders, his face centimeters from your core and the stubble of his jaw tickling your thighs.

You were almost certain you'd soaked through the thin pair of panties you wore.

His hands dragged up your thighs, fingers slipping beneath the fabric at your hips as he held your eyes. 

And then he ripped them at the seams. The puny fabric fell to the mattress in tatters, and all you could do was gawk at him.

“Don’t wear those when you’re with me.” Winter ordered against your thigh, his tongue swiping a path up the inner stripe of skin. 

The action sent another wave of want through you, the anticipation of what he was going to do serving to build your nerves higher and higher.

He drew you closer by your hips, humming against your skin. The sweep of hot air over you was a welcome sensation and you arched into it. Your heart pounded, and the angle in which your body was held, your head still resting against the mattress along with your shoulders, made it hard to think. 

Winter stopped just short of brushing his lips over your sensitive clit. You could’ve cried right then and there. Blinking up at him, you caught the wicked grin plastered on his face.

The soldier above you looked downright god-like bathed in the dim light of the room. His eyes gleamed, and that silver arm danced with every move he made. Every devious stroke of cool fingers against your body.

You knew this exact image would be carved into your mind for the rest of your life.

“Beg for it,” he ordered, his grip turning nearly bruising. “Tell me how badly you want it.” His lips brushed your core, just a whisper of scruff on your sensitive skin. 

You squirmed in response, chasing the feeling. Normally, you would rather die than beg a man for anything. But Winter? He had a special way of breaking you down. “Please, Winter, please. I-I want you. I want you to–.”

He didn’t even let you finish before his tongue delved into your core. 

You felt every sweep, every brush of that expert muscle laving over you. Desperate, needy sounds were echoing through your room, and a part of you knew they were yours. That they were spilling from your parted lips in broken sentences begging him for more. You were too focused on where his tongue toyed with you to care about anything else, though. Every pass of his tongue on your clit, or a sweep against your clenching walls made it harder and harder to ground yourself.

You were crawling closer and closer to the edge.

Your fingers were curled into the bedspread, and your hips ground into his face and bucked against the solid grip of his arms over your thighs. Winter groaned into your heat, the rumbling vibrations pushing you closer to euphoria.

Dazed, you tried to focus on his face, tried to make out his features in your love-drunk state. 

Winter's eyes were closed, and his face never came up once for air. Not even when you could feel his chest shuttering, and those muffled grunts became more frequent.

And God did they feel good.

Your chest heaved, your legs trying and failing to move an inch against his iron grip. As those vibrating groans shoved you over the edge with a cry.

Your brain couldn’t focus, not with all the blood rushing through your head and the thundering sound of your own heart in your ears, or the blissful sensation of release crashing over you in waves. 

“So dirty, Dollface. Letting me ruin you like this.” Winter eased his grip on your shaky legs, his hands dragging up your thighs to grip your hips. “Letting me brand you, taste you…” He licked his lips, tasting you on his stubbled face. His body leaned forward, your legs parting around his hips as he planted a burning kiss to your lips, “Fucking perfect.”

You panted, blinking to focus on his words as you came back to yourself.

Winter was lifting himself off of you, his eyes raking over your disheveled form as he slipped off the bed and stood to his full height. Those blue eyes held nothing but burning desire, muscles flexing as he yanked off his shirt and rewarded you with the view of his sweat slicked torso. 

The sight was erotic. His hair damp with sweat, and his face glossy with the remnants of your release, chest heaving as he sucked in much needed air.

Winter reached forward, his cool fingers wrapping around your ankle and tugging you towards the edge of the bed with a wicked grin. “Gonna make you come again, Dollface. Need to hear those pretty sounds you make.” His flesh hand grabbed your calf, pulling you closer. “Wanna hear my name on your lips again, and again, and again.”

His metal fingers gripped your thigh hard enough to leave bruises, but that didn’t bother you. You loved the reminders that littered your skin from the last time Winter branded you with his affections, and you relished each one that would follow. 

With a quick, strong motion, he flipped you on your stomach. Your chest bounced against the bedsheets, the friction against your pebbled nipples sent a jolt of pleasure down to your toes making you moan into the comforter as he brought your hips up and adjusted your knees against the bed.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous.” He panted, pressing himself against your ass.

You could feel him through the sweats still hanging from his hips. The length of him pressed firmly against you, brushing your sensitive core and making you groan again. You wanted to feel him, needed to know what it was like to be with Winter the same way you craved intimacy with his counterpart.

“Please,” You begged. 

With a grunt, the sweats were yanked down and he thrust harshly, seating himself completely in one swift motion.

His moan rumbles through you, setting your nerves alight. “Oh god…”

And then he starts moving. 

One stark difference between James Buchanan Barnes and The Winter Soldier, was that one was gentle and kind, and everything you’d want in the man you’d take home to meet your parents. And the other? The other was the kind of man that would carve his name into your skin with a smile and defile you in unspeakable ways, rough and raw.

Winter snapped his hips at a breakneck pace, pulling out only to plunge back in with a force that made you see stars. Your mouth hung open in a silent scream, clinging to the sheets as he drove you into the mattress. His cock hit all the right places, those quick, constant motions driving you closer and closer to another release. His grunts and puffs of breath only added momentum.

Tears pricked your eyes, your heart hammering and your skin on fire as pleasure coursed through you, building higher and higher.

A cold palm slipped along your belly, snaking its way between your breasts and firmly wrapping around your neck, squeezing those delicate pressure points that made your head spin. He lifted you from the mattress, his pace halting almost completely as your back met his heaving chest. 

Winter’s raw voice met your ears as you whimpered at the loss of friction, teetering on the edge of sanity as your core wept for attention. “Gonna cum if I keep that up, Dollface.” His voice is choppy, puffs of air hitting the side of your neck as he talks. “Feel so fuckin’ good.”

His dick pushes in again, dragging slowly along your walls as he groans in your ear, your own voice joining him in a broken harmony. “‘M gonna need this every time. Need to feel your tight cunt, hear your pretty cries…” His tongue darted out to slide over your cheek, swiping up a tear that had fallen from your damp lashes, “Taste you every. Single. Time.”

Those hips snapped back into their brutal pace, slamming against your ass as he clutched your frail neck in his metal hand, the other coming up to grip your hair and tug your head back as he sucked more love bites along your neck.

You moan, tears of pleasure falling from your lashes as you near the edge. Winter’s grunts and shaky breath vaguely registering that he’s nearly there himself.

He sinks his teeth into the juncture of your neck, the combination of pain and utter pleasure shoving you over the precipice as you open your mouth in a scream. That metal hand snakes up to stifle it as his hips jerk a few more agonizing thrusts before shuddering with his strangled moan.

You’re left limp and breathless, utterly spent and draped over his arm with your head lolling against his strong and heaving shoulder.

Winter slips from you, repositioning you on the bed like an offering on an unholy altar. With his hair plastered against his forehead, those dark strands utterly soaked with sweat, he smiles down at you.

“Again.”

Tags<3

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[shy-writer-999]

All Bark, No Bite?

WARNINGS: MINORS DNI. NSFW CONTENT.

A/N: Mostly smut. ~4500 words. Strawhat reader (afab) x Ace, who is visiting the ship for a while. When Ace finds someone who can match his banter, what goes down? ( ´ ω ` )

CW: dirty talk, fingering, P in V, prone bone.

All Bark, No Bite?

The flirtation with Ace had been getting ridiculous recently. You’d both been dancing around the idea of fucking each other senseless for weeks. Part of the fun was the teasing—Ace felt like he was going to explode any time he saw you, and his presence stoked a fire in your core any time he was around.

The banter itself was enough to make him hard and you wet, respectively. And sure, you’d make out a couple of times, he’d gotten handsy (with your eager consent), he even fingered you once—but these events happened once every blue moon, and your brief trysts never got past that threshold.

At one point the suggestive back-and-forth and lingering touches transformed into shameless horniness. Any chance he’d get, Ace would make you flustered, whisper sweet nothings in your ear, and then he’d turn around and talk about how he was going to fuck you into oblivion someday. You were counting down the hours until the perfect moment presented itself, and, of course, it did.

You shot Ace one too many lust-filled glances one night, and he couldn’t hold back anymore. You were wearing the shorts that you knew drove him rabid, so short that he got a tiny peek of your ass cheeks (Sanji loved the shorts too, coincidentally). Combined with your tank top and the shape of your breasts more visible because you weren’t wearing a bra… Ace could feel himself going feral.

He was sitting next to you at the dinner table, while the rest of the crew was rowdily laughing at Luffy almost choking on a chicken bone because he had scarfed it down too fast. Leaning to the side, Ace murmured something your ear. At the same time, his hand crept under the table and squeezed your thigh.

His comment wasn’t completely out of left field—earlier that night, he complimented your shorts, and you responded something along the lines of “Oh yeah? Wanna see more?” He had rolled his eyes at you in the moment, saying (sarcastically) “mmmhmm, sure” but afterwards he was shaking his head and laughing at himself over how viscerally down bad he was for you.

So, when he leaned over and whispered the following comment in your ear, you giggled. “How much you wanna bet that I’ll fuck you better than anyone has before?”

Now you were the one rolling your eyes. “Fat chance, Ace. In your dreams.”

“What, you don’t want to?” He feigned surprise and hurt, keeping his voice low and hushed.

You gave him an annoyed look and cocked your head slightly. He knew you wanted to. It was fucking obvious.

“It’s not that I don’t want to, Ace, it’s just that I think you’re all bark and no bite. Best dick I’ve ever had? Yeah right.”

A grin took over his face, nose scrunching up just slightly, those adorable freckles winking at you. “You want to find out?”

“I know you want to.”

Ace got up without a word and went to wash his now empty plate. You were puzzled at the lack of response, staring at his back, annoyed, until he turned and flicked his chin in the direction of the hallway. Message received. He put his plate on the drying rack and then sauntered down the hallway in question, disappearing as he turned a corner.

You got up and took care of your plate, following in Ace’s footsteps from a couple minutes before. As you left the dining area you sent Robin and Nami a small wave. Robin smiled and Nami gave you a wink. They knew they would hear every detail later.

When you walked down the hallway, you figured Ace would either be in your cabin or his (guest) cabin. Your door was open, light on just how you left it, Ace he was nowhere to be seen. So, he must be in his own cabin. But as you approached, you could see that his door was ajar, and it was pitch black inside. When you reached the room, you cracked the door some more and peered in. “Ace? Where the fu—”

Mid-question, a hand reached out of the darkness and grabbed your wrist, pulling you. You couldn’t see anything—the shutter on the room’s porthole was pulled shut, the light turned off. The only thing you could feel as you groped around in the dark was Ace’s hand on your wrist, which pulled you closer to what you assumed was the bed. You could hear the muted sounds of blankets rustling in front of you. He let go of your hand.

“C’mere.” His playful voice was a couple feet in front of you.

“I’m trying to, but I can’t fucking see anything!” You snapped, fumbling around in front of you until your foot hit his and you toppled over. He caught you by your waist and guided you down to straddle his lap.

“If you would have waited a minute, I would have given you a light.” He flashed a finger, a small flame burning on the tip. You saw his gorgeous smile just barely before he extinguished it. As his grip grew tighter on your waist, he purred, his face centimeters away from yours. “I want you.”

“I know you do, Ace” you laughed at him. He knew you well enough by now that he could hear you smiling through your voice.

“Please.” His voice was so sweet and pleading, veiled notes of desire behind his honeyed tone.

Leaning forward, you gave into a temptation that you knew would only lead somewhere hot and steamy (and you had no problem with that). It had been far too long since you locked lips.

You’d never get over how soft his lips were and how good of a kisser he was. While the jury was still out on whether or not he fucked you better than anyone else, you knew for a fact that he kissed you better than anyone else.

The kisses started out tame, but you could tell how badly he wanted more. You cupped the side of his face with one hand and threw your other arm around his neck, pressing your body into his. Ace’s hands around your waist crept down and grabbed two handfuls of your ass—extremely accessible through those short shorts. You could feel his half-chub forming in his shorts, starting to press onto the denim that covered your crotch.

Ace’s tongue parted your lips and explored your mouth. Your fingers tangled in his dark hair and you could feel his erection, fully hard now, starting to slowly grind up into you. He was letting out puffs of air into your mouth, hands kneading your ass, pulling on it. You moved your hands from the nape of his neck and reached for the hem of your tank top. When you peeled it off, you threw it across the room.

Ace was about to start massaging your bare breasts, but you shoved his shoulders so forcefully he fell back onto the covers.

“Feeling feisty, aren’t we?” Ace’s smirk was almost as audible as the smug chuckle he let out.

“Don’t move.” You got off his lap and shimmed out of your shorts and panties. When you had freed yourself of them, you leaned forward to tug on Ace’s shorts and the waistband of his boxer briefs; he helped speed the process along, and pulled off his shirt while he was at it.

Climbing back on the bed, you straddled Ace, cowgirl style, as he watched you from below. You felt like he deserved to get teased a bit, since he had such a big mouth and cock. Adjusting so his cock was laying flat on your lips, you started rubbing up and down it, bare pussy grinding on his shaft. At the same time, you braced yourself on his abdomen with your palms. You used his washboard abs for leverage, to adjust how hard or soft you grinded into him. Ace’s hands alternated between squishing handfuls of your ass to gripping your hips tightly.

Ace took one of his fingers and held it before you, a small flame dancing on his fingertip again. The light cast red tones and shadows on your body—he felt a sense of reverence as he watched you grind on him, head thrown back, like you were something holy, some work of art ripped from the frame of a renaissance painting or a sculpture from classical antiquity brought to life.

Your hair, your curves, the way you braced yourself on him, the way your hips rolled ever so slightly to elicit the most pleasure from him… he was in denial about how intensely and ardently he liked you. He was obsessed with you, entranced by you, he couldn’t get you out of his head ever since he started spending time on the ship. Your flirting sessions and the occasional horny tryst were killing him inside because all he wanted was to be close to you.

Sure, he wanted to fuck your brains out, but the feeling he got while he admired you in that muted light was something akin to awe. The moment felt surreal. He extinguished the flame.

“Princess, I won’t be able to take much more of that.” His voice was strained.

“I’m just getting started, Ace, sheesh. Don’t get too excited already, big boy.”

The feeling of your clit rubbing up and down, snagging on the head of his cock sent ripples of pleasure through both of you. It was so easy to get off when Ace was underneath you, like putty in your hands. He was trying to keep his groans back, trying to push them down in his throat; he didn’t want to give you the satisfaction of knowing he was enveloped in pleasure after less than five minutes of this. But the precum was already leaking out of him, a fact that did not escape you as you grinded your core on his shaft.

“Fuck, baby, you’re killing me.” He croaked, his voice was almost hoarse. He wanted to fuck you immediately—either that, or he’d need to finger you or eat you out, ASAP. He couldn’t take five more minutes of this. He was going to cum soon if you kept it up, and if he came before he even got the chance to fuck you, he knew he’d never live it down.

“Oh, you’re falling apart already Ace? Weren’t you just saying you’d fuck me better than anyone I’ve ever been with?” Your tone was scornful, but you knew he’d get off on that. He loved any sort of sass or brattiness, he liked whining and begging, too, and his heart went crazy inside any time you made pathetic and pleading puppy-dog eyes at him.

“So, you just want to rub yourself on my cock forever and you won’t even let me fuck you with it?” Ace always returned your sass tenfold. His deep voice was incredulous and almost mocking you, but for some reason it felt like he was doting on you.

“Mmmmhhmm, Ace, and you’re just going to have to deal with that.”

He finally let out a groan. It was feeling dangerously good. Concerningly good. The slick oozing out of you and coating his shaft wasn’t making things any easier.

Ace squeezed his eyes shut and tried to control his breathing in an attempt to fend off the mounting desire-filled craze that was about to overtake him.

“You’ve got about thirty seconds left before I fuck you senseless, darling.” He practically growled at you—his voice sounded different; more desperate, deeper, and gruff.

You quipped back scathingly with a laugh, continuing to glide back and forth on his cock leisurely. “Ace, you’ll cum from me humping your dick before you even get the chance. I’d like to see you try.”

In a split second, everything changed. Because the room was pitch black, the only thing you could go off was the sensation of being thrown around.

Ace grabbed you by the waist and flipped you over, almost knocking the wind out of you. Your stomach was flat on the bed now and Ace was on top of you, his cock throbbing, pressing on your ass. His body was almost completely flush with yours, except he was bracing himself with a hand on either side of your head. His knees were outside of yours, firmly pressing your legs together.

“What was that?” He murmured, close to your ear. “You’d like to see me try?”

You let out a muffled sound, having to pick your head up a bit to be audible amidst the plush covers and blankets. “Yeah, Ace. Try.”

He reached a hand down to push your thighs apart slightly. Combined with you arching your back, he had better access now. He crept his hand down to your core and swiped two fingers through your folds—you were dripping wet, and when his fingers touched your bare folds, your hips bucked inadvertently.

“Now who’s the one gettin’ all worked up, sugar?” He taunted you, repeating his movement down your lips and to your clit a couple more times.

You rolled your eyes, like he could see them. “I’m hardly worked up, Ace. You’ll be able to tell when I am.”

“Oh, is that so?” He teased and slowly inserted his middle finger, his palm coming to rest on your skin. You were so wet that his finger slid in without any resistance. Your walls clenched around him. As he curled his finger and explored your insides, he pressed and roamed, trying to find your sensitive spot.

Now, you were the one trying to stifle your own sounds of pleasure. You feared that you were the one who was all bark and no bite—if his mere finger felt this good inside of you, who knows what it’d feel like when his cock was buried as deep as it could get.

Sure enough, Ace found your g-spot quickly and started relentlessly applying pressure. Your hips jerked up every time he pressed it, and you started to feel so good that your sighs and muffled groans were turning into full-blown mewls. You were one good g-spot press away from moaning his name with reckless abandon.

Based on the way you were squirming and clenching around his finger, Ace could tell that he could make you cum within a couple minutes if he kept going. He was painfully aroused; his cock was aching for friction. He wanted you so bad that it hurt.

He took his finger out and leaned down more, pressing his chest on your back, positioning his cock right at your entrance. He ran his tip up and down through your folds, rubbing it on your clit for a second before returning to tease around your slit.

“Fuck, Ace,” you moaned his name for the first time and he felt his heart stop. “I want it.”

He felt like being a dick. Now that you were under him, sopping wet and moaning his name, he wanted to take his turn playing the part of the bratty tease.

“What was that, pretty? Couldn’t hear you.”

“Fuck,” you groaned in frustration. He was going to drive you insane if he didn’t put his cock in soon. You were dying for it. “Ace, I want you. Now. Please.”

That was all he needed to hear before he started to press his tip through your folds and into your cunt. He was stretching you out and it felt so damn good. Your walls shuddered around him and his cock twitched in response. When he bottomed out, his chest was pressed directly onto your back, weighing you down so much that it was difficult to catch a breath. Ace's weight, his cock, and the feeling of him breathing on your neck all constituted an overwhelming sensation. In that moment, you would have done anything he told you to.

“God, you’re so fucking tight,” Ace rasped in your ear, sending goosebumps all over your body. He held still for a moment to feel you pulse around him and listen to your heartbeat below him.

“Ace, move,” you whined. You tried to move your hips up and down, desperate for him to start bringing his cock in and out. You were growing impatient. You could only handle so much teasing before you would start begging pitifully.

Ace obliged your entreaty, dragging his cock out of you slowly and then plunging it back in forcefully. He angled his hips down, getting the deepest possible angle that he could. His body was caging you in, hips pressing into yours. The weight of his body and the angle made you feel tighter and made his cock feel bigger than it already was.

He pulled out again slowly and plunged back in, hard and deep. You yelped and it turned into a moan. “Ace, fuck.”

“Nngghhhh, fuck, Y/N, your pussy is so tight.”

“You—already—said—that,” you struggled to spit out each word as he fucked you.

“I’ll say it as many times as I want,” he smirked in your ear and plunged into you particularly rough. Filthy sounds of pleasure left your mouth as a response. He was fucking you so well that you were beginning to lose touch with reality.

“Do you like that? Do you like when I fuck you like this, sweetheart?” His sugar-coated voice and the pet name went straight to your pussy. Every time he called you one of those adoring names he could feel your cunt pulse around him—your body was telling on you, letting him know how much you liked those affectionate names, even though you would never tell him how much they made your heart flutter.

“Gonna fuck you ‘till you can’t even talk,” he grunted between each word, pulling out slowly and fucking into you franticly the whole time.

You moaned into the sheets in front of you, grabbing handfuls of them and balling them up into your fists. The dirty talk continued from Ace as he got continuously more riled up. He knew you loved it.

“So wet for me, sweetheart,” his voice was rumbling from his chest and into your ear—you could feel it vibrate on your back as he thrusted into you. “Taking it so well. Taking it all for me. So fuckin’ hot.”

As Ace fucked you harder and deeper, he targeted your g-spot, drawing more pleasure from your already dripping cunt. He felt hot and stiff inside of you, and every time his tip and shaft pressed your sensitive spot like it was a button. Your toes curled in ecstasy and your thighs clamped closer together. Each progressive clamp of your thighs let Ace go deeper.

“Tell me how much you like it, baby,” he cooed, breath hot on your ear.

You didn’t know if you’d be able to squawk out a coherent sentence. But you were going to try, or else he would have something else to smirk over.

“F-feels so—so good, Ace, feels like—” your words got caught in your throat and turned into a sort of strangled moan, a noise so primal it made Ace feel like he was going crazy.

“My cock feels so good you can’t even talk? You like it that much?”

You clumsily attempted a nod, stopped by all the covers you were currently getting fucked into. A mewl would have to suffice.

“Aceee, fuck,” the noises were muffled, but Ace knew exactly what you were saying. It fueled him, goaded him into fucking you harder. He wanted you to melt in his touch completely, wanted your eyes to roll back into your head in pleasure. He wondered how good it would feel when you screamed his name and came on his cock. He was determined to find out.

“Your pussy feels so good on my cock, baby, juuussssttt like that.”

Ace slowed his hips down, exercising every bit of discipline he had to glide his cock in and out as slow as possible. For you, this speed was simply unacceptable. You needed more so badly that you were about to scream for it. Was he trying to edge you?

Right as you were going to feebly attempt to snap at him to fuck you better, you realized that he was leaving a trail of gentle kisses along your shoulder blade. He kissed up to your neck, kissed down your back as far as he could reach in this position, showering you in unexpected affection. It made your heart stop for a moment. Sure, he was cheeky and insolent in most interactions (in a way that you liked), but you always suspected that he really did have a soft spot for you. You could see it in his eyes whenever he spoke to you.

Ace slowed down his panting so he could murmur lightly in your ear, “God, you’re so fucking beautiful.”

Vivid shades of pink and red started to spread over your cheeks. One of his hands crept towards yours and came to rest on top of it tenderly. You released your fistful of blankets and he intertwined his fingers through yours.

“So gorgeous it hurts,” his breath tickled your ear. He squeezed your hand, fucking you at a snail’s pace.

Holy shit, was Ace… making love to you? Was he funneling his affection towards you, letting you know how much he deeply cherished you, all while fucking your brains out? It seemed like the answer must be yes. Your heart did a flip.

“Ace,” you keened out; his adoration was going to your head. You lifted and turned your head as much as you could amidst the plush blankets, so he could hear you better. “I want you.”

He squeezed your hand. “I know you do.”

Ace sped up his thrusts again, his grunts and groans filling the room along with your sweet sounds of pleasure and the wet sounds from your cunt. His hips rolled, his weight bore down on you, your gummy walls pulsed around his cock—you were both on the verge of orgasm, holding on for dear life. He desperately wanted to make you cum first. The thin façade of bragging rights aside, he just wanted to make you feel good. He wanted to wrench heaven from your core and see you writhe in pleasure from his touch—he wanted the satisfaction of knowing he did that.

Every pass of his cock in and out of you was mind-blowing. Oblivion was approaching, quickly. His pace was becoming haphazard, messy, and frenzied.

“Ace, Ace, I’m—I’m gonna cum, feels too good,” you whined.

“Go for it, doll, wanna feel you cream on my cock.” His voice was barely going in one ear and out the other; it gravelly and deep, coursing through your veins like blood. But you registered it enough to know that he wanted you to let go for him.

One good thrust later and you were riding the wave of all-encompassing pleasure so intensely that you felt like you were going to pass out. You started to squirm—he had brought you to your peak and pushed you over it, into a free fall of desire and bliss with no end in sight. The pitch black of the room emphasized the maddening euphoria crashing through your body, it coaxed sounds out of your mouth that you’d never heard before, ones you didn’t know you could make.

You moaned Ace’s name on repeat—screamed it, almost, and every time Ace heard that noise grace his ears, the coil inside of him tightened. Feeling you writhe under him, feeling you squeeze the ever-living fuck out of his hand, feeling you arch your back and your walls pulse… It was too much.

The coil inside of him went rigid and snapped. Ace convulsed, jerking his hips and bucking them down into you. “Fuuccckkkk, Y/N, fuck.” Pulling out of you with heaving breath, his cock shot milky white ropes that painted your ass and lower back.

Ace felt like he was floating. He came the hardest he ever experienced—he didn’t know it was possible to cum this explosively or feel this good.

He collapsed onto his side and positioned his body next to yours. Your gasps for air and heartbeats were in sync as you both came back to earth. You laid there for a moment.

Ace lit another tiny flame on his finger and studied your face. Your eyes were closed, mouth hanging open, pressed against the bedsheets. Your cheeks were ruddy, lips just as pretty as he remembered.

A smiled dusted your lips as you opened your eyes, half-lidded, to see him inches away from you. Ace’s eyes reflected the small fire burning in between you, his lips curled into that heart-twisting grin that always gave you butterflies.

He extinguished the flame, reached over, and started to pet your back. His hand moved to smooth down your hair. “Hey gorgeous, how you hangin’ in there?”

“Wow.” You exhaled, breathless. A beat of silence passed. “What was all that about?” You were still smiling, fighting off the bashfulness and feeling of being flustered that you knew was creeping up.

“What do you mean, pumpkin?” His tone was puzzled.

“The lovey-dovey stuff...”

“Oh.” He paused. “Don’t you know how much I like you? I may tease you but I really, really like you.”

“Stop it, Ace. You’re making me shy.”

His hand resumed smoothing your hair. It passed down to cup your cheek. He rubbed a circle on your skin with his thumb.

“What’s so wrong with making you shy?”

You didn’t answer. He leaned over to kiss you. Again, you’d never get over how good his lips felt pressed on yours. Any time they met it was electric.

“One second—let me get you cleaned up sweetheart.” Ace got off the bed, grabbed a towel, and wiped his cum off your back. His touch was soft, treating your body like it was precious. He got back into bed.

“Come over here.” Ace’s voice was tender.

You turned onto your side and scooted closer. He threw an arm over you and held you to his chest. You cozied up to him for a long time. His chin rested on top of your head, you curled into his chest, heard his heartbeat, and felt the weight of his arm squeezing you closer.

After a moment he started to chuckle.

“Ace, what? What are you laughing about?” The sass started to trickle back into your voice.

“So, did I fuck you better than anyone has before? Am I still all bark and no bite?”

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes. “I guess you’re all bite.”

“Mmmm, that’s what I thought.” He kissed the top of your head and held you close, with that cocky grin plastered all over his face.

(✿◠‿◠) ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧˚ (*^_^*)

thank u so much for reading!! MAD shoutout to @acesluvrxx for the very detailed, and dare i say magnificent, request!

here's my masterlist, if you're interested!

[trexiejan]

Friendly reminder that DC and Dickbabs writers are gaslighting you into thinking Dickbabs are childhood sweethearts that are always in love with each other since day 1.

Dickbabs is the most superficial manufactured by retcons ship.

Babs was deaged for this crap to work.

Here is Original Barbara Gordon working as a congresswoman in the Senate when Dick was just the little kid Robin.

She was much closer to Bruce and Clark's age than Dick's.

Barbara refers to Dick as a "kid" and "little brother.

Dick had a small puppy crush on her but it was seen as a precocious crush. It was controversial when they first kiss (to make Dick shut up) because it involved a grown ass woman kissing a teenager.

Dickbabs was hated the same way modern Brucebabs is hated today.

Even the writer of that book admitted he never intended for them to become a couple.

Babs was more into older guys.

- she was viewed as an equal love interest to Batman

- she went out on a date with Superman

- then got engaged to her coworker Jason Bard.

Dickbabs shippers always try to deny that Babs was deaged and her history was altered for dickbabs in an effort to defend their ship.

They say it's not true because according to them Babs has been deaged long before dickbabs became a couple.

Here's the thing though:

Babs has been deaged twice.

Just because she wasn't deaged to be with Dick in her 1st deaging doesn't change the fact that she was deaged to be the same age as him in her 2nd deaging which happened in dickbabs content.

The 1st time she was deaged was in Crisis on Infinite Earths, it was so Jim could be younger but they only decreased her age slightly because she's still written as older than Dick, here is a panel from Secret Origins #20 that was published in 1986 exactly 1 year after she was first deaged in Crisis on infinite earths (1985) she said Dick is too young for her and that batman is always the one on her mind. So Dickbabs during this time still couldn't work because they still have that age gap and Babs was still into Bruce.

The 2nd time she was deaged is in dickbabs comics and tv shows where she was finally made the same age as Dick so dickbabs can finally work as a romantic pairing.

Instead of being older, she's now written as a part of Dick's generation.

From a congresswoman to a young girl who went to highschool prom with Dick.

Even Tom Taylor had the two first meet when they were young little kids so he can also portray them as childhood sweethearts in his run.

Tom Taylor claims Barbara still has a law degree but isn't it sad how instead of using that degree to find an actual job, she wasted her time following Dick around like a dog in Bludhaven ?

She has no job of her own, no friends of her own, no hobbies of her own outside of Dick.

She's just Dick's clingy lovesick girlfriend who is a total standby for him in his solo books.

Dickbabs shippers who deny this and get mad at people who point this out are the people who don't care about Barbara Gordon as an individual.

They don't care that Barbara lost her PHD degree, lost her own career, lost her own agency, lost her history, lost her self identity for the sake of shipping.

Their only concern is defending dickbabs and making it look better.

Because if they truly like Barbara separately from Dick, all these valid anti-dickbabs criticisms wouldn't bother them.

What's even funnier is that they are the very same people who accuse Starfire of being reduced into Dick's love interest despite the fact that Starfire hasn't been in a relationship with Dick in the comics for 20+ years due to the fact that dickkory's history was ignored and erased in favor of dickbabs. NASTY HYPOCRITES.

At least Starfire wasn't deaged to fit Dick and you can never see Starfire following Dick around like a dog in his solo books 💀

[aimless-imagines-for-fun]

Vacation: Part one

PART TWO PART THREE

Pairing :: OPLA!Sanji x fem!Reader

Warnings :: 18+ Content, NSFW/SMUT, Oral(f recieving), Semi-Public sex(they did it in an alley), Light teasing

Word Count ::  3,373

Summary :: After being forced on a vacation at the Baratie, you catch the eye of a certain blond cook who loves to tease you.

A/N :: I was trying to find the right mix between pervert simp anime Sanji and suave charming live-action Sanji. There will for sure be a part two.

Go watch the One Piece live-action.

If you enjoy my work consider leaving a comment or kofi as support   ʕ • ᴥ • ʔ ❤️ 

“I see a place we can stop to make repairs, Captain Tommy,” You said, eye still focused on the small floating mass in the distance.

You worked on a merchant ship for a wealthy businessman named Greylock. You were his top secret contract negotiator. The reason you were a “secret” was because he never introduced you as a negotiator. You would always find your way to sneak into his potential clients’ and contract partners’ inner circle to figure out what type of people they were and what they wanted. With this personal knowledge, you would then come up with the best plan of action to secure a beneficial deal for the business. It was easy for you thanks to your typically quiet demeanor. You knew when to stay silent and read the room.

Captain Tommy, Greylock’s business partner, set a course for the wooden structure floating. “Let’s hope the owner’s kind enough to let us port for a while.”

“How long do you think it’ll take to repair the damages?”

“The storm banged us up pretty good, not to mention all the scrapes we’ve gotten from pirates.” He glanced around the ship. “I’d say at least three to four weeks.”

You cursed quietly under your breath. “Greylock isn’t going to be happy about that.”

Captain Tommy shrugged. “There’s nothing we can do. The ship’s falling apart. We won’t be able to make it to a port town before the ship sinks.”

You knew Greylock would be upset once you told him, so you took precocious measures to alleviate the anger.

You stood with him on the deck, watching as you approached your soon-to-be temporary home. "You know sir, you've been mentioning wanting to take a vacation for a while."

He sighed, shrugging. "That's because I'm getting older and tired of working. I became a merchant to see the world, not to work endlessly."

"Well then, how about you finally take that vacation now while we repair the ship?"

He turned his head to give you a weary look. "Take a  vacation while the ship is repaired?"

You nodded with a smile. "Captain Tommy told me it would take at least three weeks to repair the ship. Instead of worrying about work, you should relax during that time."

"(Y/N)-"

"And you can give the crew a chance to rest. Were y'all dreary from that dreadful storm, not to mention the attacks we had to endure before?" You patted his shoulder. "You know what they say, a happy crew is a dutiful crew. And a tired crew typically ends up killing someone."

Grey lock laughed at your made-up saying, but you were able to persuade him. "You're right. We've been working too hard recently without a break." He looked out once more, finally in the distance to see the name of the place you'll all be staying for the next month. "Lads!" He shouted loud enough to grab everyone's attention. "I want you lot to enjoy yourselves at the Baratie. Think of our unscheduled stop as a surprise resort! Haha!"

Immediately the crew lit up. While everyone cheered and began to talk about what they'd do with their spare time, aside from repairs, you looked up at Captain Tommy. He had a small smirk, giving you a wink. He knew if anyone could get Greylock to give the entire crew a break, it'd be you.

-

You walked into Baratie behind Greylock and Captain Tommy. It was typically for the three of you to grab a bite together whenever you arrived at a new town so that you could discuss your work objectives. Today, however, it was simply a meal between friends.

A fish man greeted you at the entrance, accepting a small fee before allowing you to take your seats.

You looked over the menu, wondering what to try first. You'd be around for a while and we're sure you'd get to try a few items on the menu before departing. Greylock and Captain Tommy chatted with one another, used to your silence. They knew that you spoke when you felt you needed to.

The swing doors to the kitchen flew open. You glanced up from the menu, seeing a blond man to have caused the small ruckus. He looked upset, brows furrowed and tight lips turned down.

'I wonder what got him so riled up,' You thought.

You kept your eyes on him, noticing he was making his way to your table with a tray of bread rolls in hand. When he was about halfway, he noticed you sitting right of Greylock and his mood instantly seemed to pick up. After his eyes locked with yours, his gaze lit up and a dashing smile graced his lips.

Seeing his mood do a complete one-eighty after spotting you, you shot your eyes back down to your menu. 'Please don't be our waiter. Please don't be our waiter. Plea-'

"Hello gentlemen and fair lady, my name is Sanji. What would you like to drink to start you off? We have several rare Micqueot vintages in stock."

Almost throughout his entire introduction, you could feel his line of sight fixed on you. He didn’t mind that you didn’t look at him. It allowed him to sneak a glance at your chest without being noticed.

"Anything fancy would be a waste on me. I'll just have a simple whiskey to start with," Greylock said. Captain Tommy put up two fingers, requesting the same.

"And what will you be having, darling?"

"Hm… I'll have a sweet tea."

"A sweet drink for a sweet girl understood."

Your eyes shot towards him, a little shocked by his straightforward demeanor. He gave you a quick wink before walking away.

Now, it was time for the old men to act like school girls. 

Greylock started the teasing first. "Awe, our little (Y/N) has a young man who's interested in her," 

"And by the small blush on her cheeks, I'd say she's interested too."

"Wh-what blush?" You stuttered, only now feeling the heat center in your cheeks.

"The one that's covering your entire face." Captain Tommy laughed.

"Shut up. I was just caught off guard by his remark." You practically shoved your face into the menu, embarrassed to face the men before you any longer.

They continued laughing for a moment before talking about what to order.

After Sanji came back with your drinks, it was time for you three to place your orders. Again, your colleagues ordered before you. This time though, you spoke right when Captain Tommy finished his sentence.

"And I will have the seared ahi tuna."

"Do you want the chocolate sin cake after for dessert, love? It's so moist it'll melt in your mouth, I promise," He said in a sultry tone for no other apparent reason than to get a rise out of you.

And once more, you were left stunned and your face was heating up. You were certain he was only teasing you, but you were still upset giving him the presumed reaction he wanted.

"She would love the chocolate cake!" Greylock's hand patted your back hard, causing you to fall forward a bit on the table. "It's been a while since she's had a good pastry."

“Coming right up.”

He left with a swift turn on his heels and when he was out of sight you glared daggers at the two accompanying you.

“What do you think you’re doing, sir?”

“Trying to make sure you have a fun time here.” He took a swig of his whiskey before continuing. “Listen, you’re always working hard for us, and you rarely make any time for yourself.”

You sink in your seat a bit. He was right. On the rare occasion you did flirt with others, it was to secure a deal, and then, you were gone.

“Plus, the boy’s easy on the eyes. You’d be mad to not give him a chance.” He bursted out laughing.

Captain Tommy was a bit more comforting with his words. “You probably won’t interact with him much, so don’t mind him.”

Choosing to believe him, you relaxed for the remainder of the meal. ‘Captain Tommy’s right. As long as I don’t come here again, I probably won’t run into him.’

Too bad you had a crew that loved to go out because about two days later, you found yourself back at the Baratie. This time, Sanji wasn’t your waiter which you were more than thankful for. Captain Tommy and Greylock might’ve teased you a bit, but the men with you now would have embarrassed you so much you would never step foot out of your living quarters again.

Around mid-way into your meal, you excused yourself from the table to go use the restroom. While walking down the hallway, your attention was on the various paintings that decorated the wall.

Since you weren’t paying much attention to what was in front of you, you collided with a firm chest. You nearly stumbled back until a pair of arms wrapped around you, holding you in place.

“Ah-! I-I’m so sorry! I should have been paying attention to where I was… going…” You looked up at the person you had bumped into, locking eyes with a familiar blue-eyed blond.

He gave you a large grin, replying. “No need to apologize madam. I should be the one apologizing,” You tilted your head, “for disturbing a fine piece of art like you.”

You immediately turned away, hoping he wouldn’t catch your growing blush. “Can you please let me go?” You asked timidly.

You felt his hold tighten for a quick second before letting you go. Without another word, you rushed past him to the women's restroom.

Sanji watched you run away, a playful grin plastered on his face. “Oh, I’m going to have fun with this one,” He mumbled, already missing the feeling of your body pressed against his.

-

This would be how every interaction you had with the blonde cook and occasional waiter, played out. You would try to be formal with him, he'd make a flirty or suggestive comment, and then you'd start to blush or stutter.

Typically it was whenever you went to eat at Baratie, but there were a few occasions when he managed to catch you outside.

-

"I must be in heaven because I'm seeing an angel before me." You tensed up in your seat and froze upon hearing Sanji.

You were at the small outdoor bar next to the giant fish-headed restaurant. Around the end of the first week, you noticed that the place had a pretty good view of the sunset. Sure, you saw the sun set often, but you rarely actually watched it fall below the horizon line, disappearing until morning. It was a minor peaceful event you wanted to enjoy on your supposed vacation alone.

The sky had already darkened by this point. You were just around to finish the drink you had.

"Good evening, Sanji."

He sat next to you, pouting playfully. "Come on m, (Y/N). We've known each other for over two weeks now. There's no need for you to keep acting so stuffy all the time."

You crossed your arms. "I'm not stuffy."

"Yes, you are. Every time I see you it's always a quick sentence or two before nothing but silence. I'm starting to think you don't like me."

'I wish it was that simple.' In fact, you were having the opposite reaction. You were used to making contracts and business deals with people when you spoke to them. You weren't used to being openly flirted with for no reason. 

Like always, you avoided making eye contact with him. This time, you fixed your attention to the remaining ice cubes in your drink.

He leaned closer to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. "Or maybe, it's because you're too shy to admit you like me," He whispered, hot breath hitting your ear and sending a tingle throughout your body.

You snapped your head around, face burning up when you saw how close he was. That damn coy smile plastered on his perfect lips.

He chuckled to himself, brushing a strand of your hair out of your face. "That's it, isn't it?"

"Why do you keep messing with me?" You bluntly asked. Frankly, you were getting tired of his game, even if you weren't entirely sure what this game was.

This was the first time you had caught him off guard. He leaned back a bit, tilting his head. "What makes you think I'm messing with you?"

"If you actually had an interest in me, you would've told me or showed me by now. You just keep saying sweet nothings to mess with me and I'm sick of it," Your voice was growing frustrated, finally voicing your opinion. "I'm trying to enjoy my vacation, not be bothered by some- Hey!"

He grabbed your hand, lifting you from your seat with a tug and pulling you away. You followed, partly because you were unable to pull away and partly because of curiosity as to where he was taking you. He led you to a small alley a bit away.

Before you could question his intentions, he leaned down to press a firm kiss onto your lips. His hands fell to your hips, holding onto you with a firm grasp and locking you against the wall behind you. Almost as if he were afraid you’d try to escape. His nerves were quickly set to rest when you began kissing him back, your hands holding his shoulders. His tongue licked your bottom lip and you gladly parted, allowing him to shove his tongue in your mouth.

After some time, he pulled away and began trailing kisses down your neck. As he did, you felt his hands wander to the button of your shorts.

Feeling him work to undo them you asked him, “What are you doing?”

He pulled away, a coy smile still on his face. “Showing you that I have an interest in you.”

He began to pull your shorts down and you felt your heart begin to race. You weren’t directly out in the open, but if someone going down the main walkway happened to turn their heads they’d spot the two of you.

“Sanji, wait- What if- Ngh!”

He started rubbing your clit through your growing wet panties, chuckling at the quick response he got. “‘What if’ what, darling?”

You glared at him, trying to voice your concerns, but again, he continued to distract you with pleasure.

He knelt down on one knee, grabbing your left thigh, and hooking it over his shoulder after completely removing your shorts. You watched with half-lidded eyes as he pushed and held your underwear to the side, revealing your pussy. He stuck his tongue in first, licking up your folds while maintaining eye contact with you through his blond locks. He continued this motion and you bit your bottom lip, hoping not to make a noise.

He wasn’t having any of that though. If there was one thing he loved, it was to know he was doing a good job. At first, he had started to tease you a bit because he thought you were cute when you got flustered. As the days went on, he noticed that you might not have said much, but you couldn’t hide your physical reactions to him. Your face was almost always flushed around him. Your grip on whatever you held tightened with the simplest of sentences. It made him wonder what type of lover were you? Quiet, non-verbal, highly responsive to the slightest touches, etc.?

He had just never gotten you alone to figure it out, until now.

He sucked your clit, earning a squeal in response. Your hands immediately shot down to his head, grabbing hold of his hair.

‘She looks so cute trying to stay quiet.’

He could feel his pants tightening around his crotch, watching you squirm because of his touch. It was getting difficult for you to stay up with one leg, especially when he slotted two fingers into your wet cunt. He curved his fingers in you, moving them slowly at first before picking up the pace to match how quickly he was flicking his tongue against your clit.

“Sa-Sanji, I- I don’t think I ca-can last much longer,” You whined.

Even without you telling him, he could tell you were getting close. Your walls had started to tighten around his fingers and he had to hold the thigh of your standing leg to support you. He would’ve loved to have you come undone around his tongue, however, for his first time with you, he wanted to fully see your expression.

He pulled away and you let out a loud sigh of relief, panting a bit. You were a little disappointed you hadn’t finished but were hopeful to continue this in a more private enclosed area. Your head was a bit fuzzy though, and you didn’t pick up on the small noise of him undoing his trousers or when he completely pulled down your panties.

He grabbed your thighs and housed you up to position the head of his penis right at your entrance. When you felt it rub against your slick folds, your eyes widened. The two of you watched as he pushed his cock in, seeing it disappear in your cunt. He groaned, eyes rolling back for a moment at how tight you were wrapped around him. You whined, feeling his length fill you up.

Slowly, he rocked his hips back and forth, giving you a chance to adjust to him. He watched your face with amusement, a mix of pleasure and embarrassment in your expression. You were still biting down on your lip, hoping to be as discrete as possible given the situation you were in.

With one swift hard thrust though, you let out a moan. Your legs wrapped around his hips and your arms around his shoulders. You buried your face into the crook of his neck, allowing him to clearly hear all your little whimpers and mewls of delight.

After hearing your moan, he began to thrust harder, wishing to hear more of your voice. You could hear his grunting too, breath growing heavier and heavier with each stroke inside you.

No longer needing to hold you up with both hands, one of them slipped underneath your shirt, sliding under the cup of your bra. He groped your breast, happy at how soft it was in his hand.

The harder he continued to thrust, the shakier your moans got. You were getting close to your release again and he wasn’t far behind, his own breathing now becoming ragged. Now, with each thrust, he could feel your walls tighten around him. Wanting to make sure he got a good look at your face when you came, he briefly removed his hand from your breast to tug your hair back. With your face pulled away from his neck, he plastered his lips against yours, shoving his tongue once more in your mouth. After, his hand returned to groping your breast.

His grip on your thigh was so tight, that you were sure there would be markings. With how hard he was kissing you, your lips were bound to be puffy when he stopped.

Your mind was becoming foggy and all you were focused on was the pleasure you were in, no longer caring someone caught you. You moaned against his lips, your entire body growing tense in his hold. Your walls clamped around him, finally hitting your high.

Seeing your eyes fall shut, engrossed in the feeling of climaxing, combined with how your cunt squeezed against him, he hit deep one last time before unraveling himself. His cock pulsed in you, dumping his entire load inside, savoring how your body milked it.

He pulled away from the kiss, each of your breaths now shaky trying to regain your composure. Your head fell back against the wall, eyes remaining on him.

“What do we do now?” You asked.

“We plan out the rest of your vacation. You’re here for at least one more week, right?” He kissed your cheek. “That gives us one more week of fun, darling.”

[aquarelliwrites]

Saturdays

SHIP: Oscar Piastri x Reader

SUMMARY: He sleeps like the dead, but at least he's pretty while doing it?

CONTENTS: Fluff, use of you/yours, no use of Y/N, entirely self-indulgent

wc: 536

A ray of sunshine in your eyes is what wakes you up.

It's one of the rare days when both Oscar and you are free of obligations. One of the rare days when you wake up before him, and get to revel a little in the feeling of his arms wrapped around your waist, hugging you close to him; the feeling of his legs tangled with yours underneath soft blankets; the feeling of his face buried in the curve connecting your neck and shoulder, fanning it with small breaths.

You allow yourself to drift between consciousness and the abyss for a while longer.

„Osc.“ You whisper – and get no response. The man – your darling sweetheart, the light of your life, really – continues sleeping like he's a rock or perhaps a log. Repeating yourself a little more loudly gets you nothing more than a hum. „I need to get up.“

He replies this time, says something, surely, and the vibration of his voice against your skin spreads like wildfire all over your body. He is also, unfortunately, entirely incomprehensible.

„What?“ You laugh.

„What th' hell d'you need to get up for?“ The vice-like grip on you doesn't loosen as you hoped it would.

„Um, the bathroom?“

He groans and lets go of you, acting like it's the most effort he's ever had to put into any task, ever. You laugh, pressing a little kiss on his cheek before getting up.

„Oh, do that again.“ The corners of his lips tilt upwards with the plea. You can't help but oblige.

 When you return, you pause in the doorway to admire the way he managed to take up the entirety of the bed. The way his torso rises and falls rhythmically under the covers. The way his shoulders look – you could spend an eternity just gazing at the way the muscles in his back move. The way he's sleeping with his face in the crook of his elbow, hiding away from the sun.

He feels the mattress dip and moves his head ever so slightly to look at you, even if he therefore must endure the Sun's corona behind you. „S'too early, darling,“ he croaks, and you laugh softly before leaning down to press a kiss between his shoulder blades.

„You're right.“ And you lay back down with that, arm thrown over him in a looser cuddle than he had you in minutes ago. He revels in the warmth of your palm on his bare skin, in the dance of your fingertips all over his back, in the quiet that blankets you both for a little while.

„I say this too much, but I really love you,“ he whispers, mind on the edge of sleep.

„You could never say it too much. I really love you too, you know.“

„I know, you're so good to me.“ The visible part of his face is smiling again.

„Your standards are low, then,“ you tease, messing up his hair.

He looks seriously offended for a moment. Or about as offended as he can look while he drifts off. „How dare you say that about my girlfriend?“

You breathe a little laugh again, and your pointer finger draws a heart on his spine.

hey, sorry that I died for nearly 2 months? go for broke is still being worked on but I think I want to go in a slightly different direction with that than I originally thought, so that's going to be A While. alas we live i suppose

[redtsundere-writes]

sukuna and servant!reader is so good!! looking forward to rescue more of them <33

Eyes On Me | Sukuna Ryomen

king!sukuna ryomen x femservant!reader

Sypnosis: Uraume can't play chess with the king right now, you must step up. Contents: Obsession, pining, kinda fluffy, mentions of blood and body parts. Uraume uses they/them pronouns. Word Count: 2404 words. Author's Note: I love writing this ship. People have been asking me to make this a series. I'll try my best lol I think you can still read them individually, but there's a preferred order.

Beginning. ← Previous |

AO3/WATTPAD VERSION

Sukuna hates humans. It's a fact of life. The sky is blue, roses are red and Sukuna hates the disgusting creatures that humans are. He has so many reasons to hate them that he doesn't even know where to begin. Humans are annoying, weak, clumsy, but most of all, stupid. They make decisions without thinking through the consequences. They prefer to spend their money on temporary pleasures and end up bankrupt by not prioritizing their survival. They worry about unimportant things such as social status, religion, and traditions. Sukuna hates humans, but boy, are they entertaining. 

Sukuna tends to study his servants very carefully. Even though they only clean, cook and obey his orders to a tee, it was fun to watch them interact with each other. He finds it fascinating how the servants gossip in whispers, how the gardeners concentrate to prune the bushes well despite their hands shaking, or how the cooks taste the food several times so that it’s up to their majesty's standards. It was like watching dozens of filthy lab rats in the middle of a social experiment. Although… There was someone special he loved to watch, no matter what they were doing. 

You had finished all the chores for the day and decided to help the cooks prepare dinner because you had nothing better to do. Your muscles were exhausted from having spent all morning cleaning the porcelain sculptures, the large frames of the paintings in the great hall, and the king's jewelry so they could sparkle in all their glory. You had been assigned the task of peeling potatoes, so there you were. Sitting at a table with a small knife, peeling potatoes while listening to the chaos going on in the kitchen. Uraume was busy preparing a special passion fruit tea for the king. The special coming from the water that was inked with human blood. Sometimes you wondered if Uraume had always agreed to cook with humans or was it something they got used to because of Sukuna's orders, but since they never talked about themselves, you never asked. 

“Fuck!” A cook yelled when the frying pan caught fire. 

Your eyes widened at the flashy flare. Uraume put the tea set aside to attend to the emergency. With some ice from their magic hands, they put out the fire in a jiffy, but left the kitchen a mess. They began to berate the cook with smacks in the head and curses for his ineptitude. The cook just apologized over and over again, but that wasn't enough for the head chef. 

“You!” Uraume called. You put your task aside to attend to their orders. “Take the tea to our king and tell him I will be with him when I settle this situation.” You nodded and took the tray carefully to go in search of him. 

After Sukuna gave you permission, you entered the library with the golden tray in your hands. The library was the coziest room in the entire castle. Its high walls were covered with huge bookcases filled with books, maps, and scrolls. There were long desks of works and hundreds of candleholders everywhere to enjoy reading during the evenings. He was sitting in one of the comfortable chairs in front of the game table, a small wooden table with a chessboard on top. The king was surprised to see you there despite having specified Uraume's presence. 

“I didn't ask you to come,” Sukuna said chidingly as you served him tea at a small table next to him. 

“Uraume had to attend to an emergency in the kitchen. They'll be here once everything is under control,” you replied as you set down the fragile cup of blood tea, adorned with small pieces of eyeball floating on the red surface to give it texture. 

Your gaze traveled to the chessboard, it had been a long time since you had seen the king playing. You knew from the other servants that he was a good player and only plays with Uraume or some brave guest. This was no ordinary board. You could see that each piece was handmade and had luxurious detail. The pieces were made of white quartz, the eyes of the horses were rubies and the crowns of the kings were made of jade. It was the most beautiful board game you ever saw. 

“Do you know how to play?” Sukuna asked out of curiosity. 

Being a servant, you surely had not received the same education as he did. Well, almost no one was on his level when it came to education. Sukuna was a master mathematician, a skilled debater and could threaten his enemies in 5 different languages. You hadn't been as lucky. You're good at cleaning, cooking and taking orders, but what else can you do? 

“Yes,” you answered with a smile. 

That answer surprised him quite a bit. Although chess was a game that was rapidly gaining popularity among the middle class, it was not a game for women. It was a game that required intellect, always thinking two moves ahead and knowing how to read your opponent. You didn't look like a girl who could do all that. 

“Sit down,” Sukuna ordered you. 

“I warn you that it may be a short game. It's been a long time since I've played,” you warned him as you sat down. 

Sukuna watched you with great attention. Your eyes scanned the board as if it was the first time you had ever seen one, your hands rested gently on your thighs and you smiled nervously. You may have known the rules of the game, but you didn't know how to play. The king took your word for it. 

“Ladies first,” he asked you to start.

“My pleasure,” you said as your dominant hand moved over the pieces to decide what your first move would be. 

Your father had taught you how to play. He always wanted a son to inherit the family business, but your mother only kept giving birth to women, so he had to resign himself to you. Your mother taught you how to be a lady so you could get married as soon as possible and your father taught you about the business so that your future husband wouldn’t take advantage of the family money. You used to sit in front of the wooden board and talk for hours after dinner. Your father may not have been the wisest or the most astute man, but he had left you a very important lesson: Always look people in the eye to know their true intentions. 

This was one of the few times you came face to face with Sukuna. Because of his title as king and the great difference in height, you were always beneath him, physically and psychologically speaking. You were a simple human, while he was a king with the power to get rid of whomever he wanted with a simple movement of his fingers. Although his presence made you feel vulnerable, you didn't resent him. You had a relatively comfortable life serving him, but sometimes there was a need for you to show him that you were more than a servant. This was a good opportunity to do so. 

Sukuna's eyes were not on you, they were on the board. His gaze denoted boredom. He was waiting patiently for you to make the first move. If you waited a little longer, maybe he would yawn. He overestimated you, you had to use that feeling against him. You moved a pawn to the C4 square, a common move among beginners.

“Finally…” He said in a monotone voice before quickly moving the knight to the F6 square. 

Each of you took turns to move the pieces quietly as time went by. You took your time with each move, while the king only needed to look at the board from time to time to know what to do next. You could take all the time in the world, but he would still eat all your pieces. Even though it didn't seem to be an interesting game, you could at least keep up with him. Sukuna's queen advanced towards yours, standing face to face. One false move and your king was in trouble. 

“Check,” you said as the queen retreated two squares diagonally, leaving her free to begin the attack on the king. 

At that announcement, Sukuna woke up from the trance he was in to concentrate on what he was doing. He smiled with satisfaction as he noticed the change in your body. Your hands had relaxed, your back was straight, and your eyes were glued to his. You knew exactly what you were doing. You didn't need to tell him verbally that you would destroy him at his own game, your eyes told him clearly. It was as if you were dissecting his soul bit by bit until you left him completely naked.

Your hands were interleaved with each turn. You moved quickly as you realized that Sukuna had already noticed your active presence on the board. Sukuna returned the queen to his side. An interesting move. It was wise to know when to back away, but you noticed one thing in his eyes. He had no plan, he just acted based on his understanding of the game. He moved like in real life, using only his killer instincts. 

“Check,” you announced again by moving a knight up. 

“Not so fast,” Sukuna told you before taking the horse that was threatening his king using a queen. You smiled as you saw that his majesty had fallen into the trap. By moving his pieces like that, Sukuna had fully exposed his king. 

“Checkmate,” you announced the end of the game as soon as you moved the white queen close to the black king. And only then, the poor maid defeated the almighty king. 

“Well, well...” Sukuna sighed in awe as he looked at the board with extreme curiosity. He couldn't be mad at you. He had let his guard down. You were playing even before the game started. 

There was someone special he loved to watch, no matter what you were doing. Sukuna would always hyper fixate on you whenever he noticed your presence around him. You could be cleaning, chatting with your companions or eating some dried fruit in the garden, and he would still only notice you as if nothing else in the world existed. You were the most interesting human he had ever seen. Sukuna tried to look for a logical reason for his obsession with you, but he couldn't do it. You looked like a simple being with clear goals, but he was sure you were hiding something behind your perfect facade. 

Someone knocked at the door. Sukuna sighed, he wanted to be alone with you longer, but now was not the time. Uraume entered the room and was surprised to see you sitting with his majesty. Something strange had been going on between the two of you for months. They had even debated the idea of asking the king directly about you, but hadn't worked up the courage to do so.  

“There was an inconvenience in the kitchen. Sorry to keep you waiting, your majesty,” Uraume bowed in apology. 

“Lucky for you, you sent a good replacement,” Sukuna said before smiling at you in satisfaction. 

Uraume instantly understood just by glancing at the board. You had beaten the king, something even they could not easily accomplish. They could tell that he was looking at you like no one else. It wasn't a look of disgust or boredom, it was a curious look. Like that of a child looking at a group of kids playing in the playground, wondering if he could come over to play with them. 

“If you'll excuse me, I have to go,” you said as you got up to give the seat to Uraume. “Good game. It was a pleasure to play against you, my king,” you bowed. 

“Good game,” Sukuna whispered so you could leave the room. 

Sukuna and Uraume started a new game as soon as you returned to the kitchen to peel potatoes. They quickly noticed that something was occupying her majesty's mind. Their white pieces were eating his black pieces easily and his moves were slow compared to previous games. Uraume could tell that the game against you had changed the way he played.

“What do you see in her?” Uraume asked him after a move. 

“Am I too obvious?” Sukuna asked them before getting up from his seat to start prowling around the library to clear his mind. “What do you think of her?” He asked her as he stopped in front of the window to admire the land. The large green lawn stretched all the way to the intimidating entrance of his wonderful castle. 

“She is a dedicated servant and a perfectionist. She does all the chores in a timely manner. She is as good a servant as any other. The real question is: What do you think of her?” Uraume asked as they watched him from their seat. 

“She has potential.” 

“Potential? Potential for what?” Uraume arched their eyebrow at the confusing statement. 

“She has the potential to become a queen,” Sukuna replied confidently. 

Sukuna Ryomen was known among the kingdoms for being an unorthodox king. Not only because he took kingdoms left and right as if it were nothing, but because he has a strange way of ruling his people. He did not care about social classes, behavioral labels or unwritten codes of human coexistence. Everyone was inferior to him regardless of gender, race, or religion. He was the god of this new world and everyone had to obey him, just like that. 

The fact that he wanted to have a queen went far beyond just following the established patterns of classical monarchy. Sukuna must have a reason why he wants to have a queen other than just because, but there was a more important question on the table. 

“Your majesty, you can get any woman you want. You can get a beautiful woman, with more training and presence, why would you settle for a servant?” Uraume asked in confusion. Sukuna smiled. It was a good question. 

“She has something much better than that,” he answered before continuing the game as if nothing happened. Uraume looked down to see that Sukuna had checkmated them.

Author's Note: I poured my poor knowledge on chess for this lol I hope it makes sense.

Order your own fanfic!

Masterlist.

[penkura]

OP Men as Dads Part 3

Note: Part 3, Part 3!! I was asked by someone on AO3 to add Luffy, so I did that! I still view Luffy more as a brother or son, so I still don't expect to write anything romantic for him, but this I can do! I hope you all enjoy!

Franky probably didn’t even think he’d ever get the chance to have kids, not after the train accident you know, but he’s excited for it! You’d have two boys around three to four years apart that are just like Franky in every way, but the older would be a bit more shy than the younger. They’ll both spend a lot of time with Franky in his workshop when they get old enough, they’ve got a knack for shipwright work and it almost brings a tear to Franky’s eye to see them sketching their own ship designs on whatever scraps of paper they can find. Your boys love you too of course! The two will bring their drawings to show you and ask your opinion, you have to tell them everything on your mind or they won’t go back to drawing, mama’s thoughts matter! It becomes family time to go over the sketches your boys made during the day, they want to do you and Franky proud in everything, but nothing they do could ever make you love them less.

~~

Katakuri has planned to have kids for a while, even though he’s already 48, he still wants to have a few and be a father to them. He’ll raise them differently from how he was raised, but still love them dearly and want only the best for them! You’ll both be surprised when you only have one first, a little girl who has Katakuri wrapped around her finger as soon as she’s born and handed to him. She’s so tiny, he’d be content to have just her if she’s all you were blessed with. Fast forward five years and there’s a set of wailing triplets that you also didn’t expect to have, but the three boys are more than you ever could’ve asked for and their big sister loves them just as quickly. She begs to see them as soon as their born, Katakuri brings her by that day to see you and them, and she has to gold all three in a row immediately. After that, a set of twin girls comes along a few years later, your oldest isn’t the only girl anymore and she’s still just as happy to have new siblings at around ten-years-old, your five-year-old set of triplets also excited. Katakuri loves and thanks you so much for the family you’ve made with him, even if you tell him your twin girls are it, you’re done. He's happy with what you have, grateful for your love and children.

~~

Killer is absolutely a great dad, you couldn’t have asked for anyone better to be your partner and father to your children. You have a boy first off, with your eyes and blond hair, he wants to be just like his dad when he grows up! A couple years later comes a little girl, she’s a surprise but a pleasant one at that. You didn’t really expect her to have Killer wrapped around her finger in a heartbeat but the second he saw her it was over, he became wholly devoted to your little girl and making sure she was happy as could be. You’ve come back to your family multiple times seeing Killer either having a tea party with your daughter or playing some make believe game with both your children, he normally plays the damsel in distress for their enjoyment. Your kids can see people act oddly around Killer when they recognize him, but neither of them care to know why, they’re still quite young, and they only care that they’re dad loves and takes care of them alongside you. All that matters to them is that Killer is around to play with them and eventually start teaching them to protect themselves.

~~

Luffy would be the fun dad, no doubt in my mind! Like how Ace would have three daughters, I can see Luffy having three sons! Probably twins at first, then another son a couple years later, the three having the same dynamic that he had with Sabo and Ace when they were kids! They’d all look like Luffy, except your middle child would have your eyes, a small piece that shows yes, you’re the mother to these three rugrats. All three dream of being pirates, its their favorite game to plan, especially so since their dad is King of the Pirates. After all, who better to tell you how the pirate life works than him?? With all of the Straw Hats around, your sons would be protect from the moment they hear you’re pregnant, everyone being the best aunts and uncles around as soon as they’re born. Luffy would be the most protective of course, but he’d still give your sons the freedom to do what they want and to grow and learn how the world works. Being a pirate is about freedom, isn’t it? Your sons will never have to wonder if they’re loved or wanted, everything you and Luffy do is for them.

~~

I honestly see Mihawk with one child, a daughter. She’d be an unexpected blessing that has him around her tiny finger the moment she takes her first breath. He’d never let her, or you of course, out of his sight, unless he absolutely had to go to a Warlord meeting or something like that. When Zoro and Perona show up, they’re both flabbergasted that the Dracule Mihawk has a child, and that she’s a cute baby girl, only a few months old! Perona will try to dress her up in frilly dresses but your daughter will cry, which ends with Mihawk taking her back and demanding Perona stop using his daughter like a dress up doll. The funny thing is, your daughter will be absolutely enthralled with Zoro, she’ll fuss until he holds her, sometimes he’s the only one who can get her down for a nap or to sleep at night. The number of times Mihawk has caught Zoro training with your daughter strapped to his back or the two napping together warms his heart, maybe having the two freeloaders around isn’t so bad.

~~

Sabo never thought too much about having kids. It was a nice idea, but he didn’t have any strong opinions about it. Then of course, you showed up and he started to have dreamy ideas of his own family and children with you as the mother. Your first is a little girl, blonde as her dad and just as rambunctious. She’ll chase down everyone that she can’t to play with her and grab their attention for whatever story she’s made up, Sabo especially listens intently to her, giving her a smile, asking questions, and responding to everything she says positively. After your daughter comes two boys, one after the other just a couple years apart, and both times Sabo can’t believe he’s so lucky to have you and your children. Your sons look more like you, though your youngest has Sabo’s hair just like your daughter. He’s more shy than either of his siblings, but with Sabo he’s more open and talkative. Your first son may be the middle child, but he’s also the one who becomes more interested in the Revolutionary Army’s work. Although Sabo knows that all of them may become interested one day, wanting to join, he hopes that their work can be completed first and your children will be able to love safe, comfortable lives as they grow up.

[gabbytvclarke]

The dog and the postwoman

Part two here! ♥

• Pairing: Arthur TV x female!reader (Also friend!Bambino Becky and friend!George Clarke) • Summary: Y/n is a newish YouTuber who gets invited to join a ChrisMD pub golf video, alongside her newfound crush. The pair are subtly teased throughout by the other members, who ship them. • Slow burn fluff, strangers to friends to… something more? Lots of flirting, exchanged glances, light touches, almost-kisses. • Warnings: alcohol, swearing, innuendoes, mentions of vomit (not graphic at all) • Word count: 9,537 words

♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥

Commenter 1: omg did you see the way Arthur looked at y/n????? ↳ Commenter 2: Fr fr he was smitten

Commenter 3: get y/n and Arthur in a team next time Chris

Commenter 4: y/nTV is going to happen I’m calling it now!!!!!!

Just a few comments flooding in ChrisMD’s latest video, this one with yt/n’s pub golf debut:

Y/n was quite new to the content creator scene. She created a few vlogs and reaction videos here and there with little to no views, despite her efforts and good content. Her TikToks were the same. Until one day one YouTube video exploded, her subscriber count grew, alongside TikTok followers. All of a sudden one George Clarke would comment on one of her TikToks, and she slowly became good friends with him. Their friendship became more well known after guest starring on the Useless Hotline podcast. Following that, she collaborated with BambinoBecky on her own channel.

Through George and Max, y/n met ChrisMD and Arthur Hill, and that’s how she wound up on one of Chris’s pub golf videos.

There was no particular theme to this pub golf video, until the costumes came out of course. With Calfreezy as the usual referee, dressed in usual ref attire, the pairs and costumes were as follows:

Arthur TV and Chip in dog onesies, AKA ‘Bone Appetite’

ChrisMD and George in pickle costumes, AKA ‘Team Gherkings’

Y/n and Becky dressed as post-women, AKA ‘The Fe-mails’

This is y/n’s first time meeting Arthur, Cal, and Chip, but she was quite nervous about meeting the Arthur TV after he’d been so hyped up by George and Arthur Hill.

With Arthur turning up later (as usual) they didn’t get a chance to properly meet each other, aside from quick ‘hellos’ and name introductions before the filming began. If she was honest, y/n was always intrigued by Arthur, both from his content and the anecdotes she’d heard from George, Chris, and Arthur Hill. What she didn’t know was that Arthur was also very interested in meeting her, loving her content after being shown it by George and Chris on separate occasions. “You’d love her” they’d say.

When y/n and Becky pose for their team introduction in the video, y/n feels a little shy with the eyes and cameras on her in the open public, but she mentally prepared for this beforehand and perseveres. Becky has her arms folded, whereas y/n is holding some prop envelopes up whilst smiling at the camera. “That’s perfect!” Chris giggles. Stepping out of shot ready for Cal’s referee posing, y/n locks eyes with Arthur after feeling him looking, and almost immediately, Arthur diverts his gaze, embarrassed.

Chip and Arthur step in frame for their clip, Arthur’s eyes kept finding their way to y/n, which she swears she can see in the corner of her view while she chats with Becky. Y/n and Becky then turn to watch the boys, and y/n meets Arthur’s gaze again and this time, she gives him a small smile before he can look away. His eyebrows slightly raise for a brief moment before he grins back, his sweet eyes squinting. “Ready mate?” Chip suddenly asks him, snapping Arthur out of his short daze. They pose, Arthur softly smiling to the camera whilst Chip pants with his hands up T-Rex style, making Arthur laugh and shake his head. All of this gets caught in their slow-mo introduction footage, making it both charming and funny.

Arthur looks to y/n again, still chuckling, and was delighted to see that she too was laughing at Chip’s antics. ‘Good to know we have a similar sense of humour’, he thinks to himself.

“He fancies you I recon,” Becky whispers to y/n, giving her a smirk and a slight elbow nudge. Y/n turns to Becky, eyes widening.

“What- Who?” she replies. Although she knows who Becky meant, she is just baffled to hear it. Before Becky could repeat herself, Arthur and Chip join them, as George and Chris step up for their shot. Arthur steps next to y/n. Y/n scoffs at the ‘Gherkings’ as they both flex at the camera, finding their pose choice amusing despite their outfits. “Those divvies,” Arthur chuckles, adding to y/n’s amusement as he leans more towards her. She giggles and adds “Should’ve called themselves prick-les,” her comment eliciting a hearty laugh from Arthur. His elbow brushes against her upper arm as he leans back, catching her off guard as she realises how close they’re standing.

She feels her heart race as she smiles to the ground awkwardly, Arthur also looks down and takes a small step back, feeling his cheeks burn. Becky gives y/n another small nudge with her elbow as she lowly lets out an “Oi oi.”

“Guys,” Chris calls out, catching everyone’s attention, “we just have to do the one-to-one questions and then we’re ready to start!”

Chris is up first as the cameraman asks how drunk he’ll get. He gives his usual answer of saying he’ll be plastered. George is next, then Chip, then Arthur.

“Well, if we’re talking dog years, I’ll be drunk seven times sooner. Or later?” Arthur answers, giving a cheeky chuckle at the camera. Y/n overhears and smiles at his cute joke. She already thought he was cute in his videos, but seeing his behaviour in person just solidifies it.

Becky’s up next, saying she’ll smash it and proudly states that she’s a girl who can handle her drink. Y/n, not so much, realising what she’s got herself into as she steps up into shot. “How do you think you’ll fare today?” the cameraman asks.

“I’m a lightweight,” she starts, “but I’ll promise to deliver-“ then awkwardly laughs at her lame joke, hiding her face behind her prop envelope and shaking her head with embarrassment.

“Oh y/n!” Becky shouts, laughing herself, “And this is you sober, we’re screwed!” Y/n joins her teammate, whispering an awkward apology for what she just witnessed. Arthur on the other hand, finds her joke adorable. Becky puts an arm round her, about to say some reassurance before Chris calls to the group.

“Right, that’s all done,” he shouts, clasping his hands together, looking to the camera that just filmed their mini interviews, “let’s all head to the first pub.” The rest of the crew all grab their cameras and start recording as the group starts walking.

The pairs talk amongst themselves for a bit, mostly small talk while the camera crew get shots of them walking. Chris talks to one camera with George up ahead, leaving the Fe-Mails and Bone Appetite to gather together behind.

“So y/n,” Chip starts, “is this your first pub golf video?”

“Yeah it is,” y/n replies smiling, “this is my first collab out in the public too, and with this many people.” Chip and Arthur both nod. The camera man puts the camera on them, catching the conversation that follows.

“She’s a lightweight as well,” Becky chimes in, eliciting an ‘uh-oh’ from Chip. “She got tipsy on our video together and she barely drank!” Becky continues as the others chuckle.

“I remember seeing that!” Arthur adds with enthusiasm, looking to y/n as he walks his way closer to her. “I’m sorry but you’re not surviving today!”

The cameraman moves to Cal, who’s walking at the back to make sure no one falls over already or insults the crew, either action earning them a shot or a point for their team.

Knowing she’s off camera, Becky gently clasps her hand over the mic attached to her shirt collar and leans to y/n’s ear. “He definitely fancies you, Arthur does. I can tell,” she whispers with a grin. Y/n just shakes her head with a shy smile.

Chip and Arthur look behind to the girls whispering, then to each other, shrugging with confused smiles. They walk slightly further ahead and Chip looks over his shoulder at them. “The chemistry is mad already bro,” he quietly says to Arthur. Arthur looks at him and furrows his eyes in confusion.

“Those two?” he questions, leaning his head towards Chip to hear him better.

“No bro, you and y/n. Don’t tell me you don’t feel it.” He clarifies, giving Arthur a tap on his shoulder.

Before Arthur can attempt to protest, they reach the first pub. Taking seats outside, the teams sit opposite each other and Cal grabs himself a seat at the end of the table. On one side of the table is George, Arthur, and Becky; the other side dons Chris, Chip, and y/n. Y/n and Arthur are both silently thankful to not be sat together at first, as neither creator wants the other to feel any rising heat, especially after the conversations they both just had. Unfortunately for both of them, they realise they are right in each other’s line of sight, and the cameras might pick up on any awkward exchanged glances.

The pints are brought to the table by a couple of crew members, with one pint placed in front of each participant. “Right, the rules for the first game are simple,” Cal bellows to the camera facing him, “Each player must down as much of their pint as possible within 10 seconds. The pair with the most beer drank gets 1 point, the next team gets two points, and the slowest drinkers earn 3 points.” The cameramen capture shots of the creators listening to the rules and close-up shots of the beers. Cal continues: “If a player spills any drink, fall over, or pukes, they earn either an additional point or can instead take a shot as a forfeit.”

The girls go first, Becky downing her drink almost perfectly. She leaves a little foam at the bottom, and Chip and Arthur try arguing that the drink is incomplete, but Cal allows it to count as an empty drink. Y/n wraps her hand around her glass, looking to Becky as she says “I’m so sorry,” with a sheepish smile before gulping as much as she can, leaving the pint glass with about a third of beer left when her 10 seconds are up. She sets her glass down and wipes her lips, frowning and shaking her head at the bitter flavour.

“We’ve got this in the bag bro!” Arthur chuckles as he smirks to Chip, giving him a hi-five.

“Yeah, you’re shit y/n!” Chip joins in, causing the table to laugh at his sudden unnecessary comment.

“Woah, manners Chip!” George retorts.

“Rude!” Becky shouts, feigning an offended face to Chip.

“No offence y/n!” Arthur adds with a cheeky grin, locking eyes with her. She secretly adores hearing him say her name.

“None taken Arthur,” she returns with a big smile, Arthur feeling his face burn, also loving the way his name rolls off her tongue.

The dogs are next up to play. Arthur goes first, using his two handed grip and only just downing the pint in one within the time limit, leaving no foam behind. Chip hi-fives him again, shouting “Yes brother!” Arthur proudly beams, looking down at his lap before his eyes quickly dart up to y/n, seeing she’s smiling whilst still looking at his completely empty pint glass. “Here we go, bone appetite!” Chip declares as he downs his drink, leaving just a small amount at the bottom of the glass.

“Well we’ve lost then!” Becky laughs, faking anger and slamming her hands in the table. Y/n is about to protest before realising George’s turn is next and he’s a drinking machine. George confidently grasps his drink. “Ah we’re cooked!” Chip murmurs to Arthur. George effortlessly gulps his drink down with 3 seconds to spare, cockily exhaling as he slams his glass down.

Chris is up next, gesturing a cheers towards George before downing his pint. “Look at the way he grips that thaing!” Arthur calls out in a slight accent, causing Chris to jerk his head forward to giggle and spill a couple of drops of beer onto the table. “Oh! Spillage!” Arthur shouts gleefully as he points at the new stains. Cal looks to Chris with his mouth open and the camera zooms in on the table. Chip and y/n are laughing as Becky shouts “Waaay!”. Both Chris and George argue with Cal that it’s unfair for them to get penalised as Arthur made him laugh. Cal coldly looks to them both and states “Spill’s a spill Chris, do you want to take a shot or a pint.”

Chris rolls his eyes and asks for a shot. Amongst the spilling drama, Chris didn’t finish his pint, leaving it half empty and starting off the scores as:

Bone Appetite: 1 point

The Fe-Mails: 2 points

Gherkings: 3 points

As the group head off to the next pub, Arthur jogs his way up to y/n. “I’m sorry for my comment before,” he starts, smiling at the floor sheepishly, “when you finished your drink.”

“Oh that’s okay, I didn’t take offence to either of you, don’t worry!” Y/n replies, giggling quietly at his sweet apology.

“OK, good!” Arthur chuckles, feeling relieved, “I have a habit of dishing out insults when I…” he stops himself for a second, “get to know someone.” he ends, thinking on his feet.

Y/n shrugs, trying to look nonchalant, “I enjoy the banter, I’m the same.” She replies.

Arthur beams as he looks to his crush. “I see, what else do you enjoy?” They start exchanging interests, followed by facts about science, animals, anything really as they continue leading the group towards their next destination.

Behind them, Chip and Becky walk with George. “Bro’s in love” Chip says as he gestures ahead, a little too loud, but the pair at the front are in their own world and don’t hear. Becky and George agree, giggling. “I think she feels the same way,” Becky replies with a genuine smile.

Behind the trio, Cal and Chris are being filmed from behind while they talk, the angle capturing all the players in one frame.

Chip jogs forward to join Arthur and y/n. “What are you two nerds yappin’ about?” he asks them as he wraps an arm round Arthur’s shoulder.

“Nerds?!” Arthur fake cries.

Simultaneously, y/n replies with “Space,” with a grin. A crew member joins to record them, walking backwards ahead of them, capturing the three in frame.

“Nice. Y/n, you feelin’ lightheaded yet?” Chip directs towards her, leaning forwards to look past Arthur. Arthur turns his head to her too, intrigued.

“Honestly, a little,” y/n replies.

“REALLY?” Arthur exclaims. His eyes widely looking down at her, his lips curled up a little. “Goodness, you really are a lightweight!”

Y/n laughs, “Yeah, it’s bad isn’t it. I feel bad for Becky really!”

“‘Least we’re guaranteed second place ey bro?” Chip says, tightening his grip round Arthur’s shoulder.

“You’re not wrong there!” Arthur chuckles

“You boys are mean!” Y/n retorts playfully.

The group reaches the second pub. Outside there are only tables of four. Y/n and Becky sit opposite each other first. Arthur and Chip join them. This time, Arthur bravely sits beside y/n, their arms touching. Y/n looks at their arms, observing the closeness. She begins feeling wary of the cameras and doesn’t want to come across as having a schoolgirl crush (which wouldn’t be wrong). As the others take their seats and chat, Arthur notices y/n’s slight change in demeanour and bumps her gently with his arm. “You okay?” he whispers as he leans his face towards hers, hoping his quiet words reach her ear and no one else’s.

She thinks fast, “I’m all good thanks, just dreading what we’ll be put through next,” she awkwardly giggles, turning her head to look at him only to almost brush noses. She didn’t initially realise how close his face was when he whispered just before. They both go wide eyed and lean away from each other, Arthur clearing his throat and sheepishly apologising, looking to his lap with a small smile. “You’re all good” y/n quietly giggles in response, looking down too, to avoid any risk of someone seeing her definitely reddening cheeks.

“So, in this round, each team member has to feed the drink to their teammate.” The pairs glare at each other, y/n and Becky giving each other a nod. Cal continues: “One player must stand with their hands on their hips, as their teammate stands behind them, with their arms through the player’s arms,” he manhandles Chris for demonstration. Turning Chris around and forcing his hands on his hips, Cal then loops his hands through as if his arms are now Chris’s and mimes holding a drink up to Chris’s lips. This earns nods amongst the other players, followed by ‘oh’s. “They then switch,” Cal explains further, “And the team with the lowest collective time it takes to finish their drinks, gains the least amount of points.”

George and Chris go first. “Here we go, turn around darling” George smirks to Chris as he spins him by his hips. Chris giggles high pitched, flapping his arms in a fake shy manner, causing the others to laugh. They do a terrible job, Chris keeps pulling his head away from the pint glass to tell George off for pouring too fast. “Shut up and take it!” George kept replying, giving the female viewers more treats with his choice of wording. It takes them just under a minute for Chris to finish his drink.

They switch, George offering Chris a hand. When Chris looks to him confused, George says: “I thought you’d want help climbing onto the bench so you can reach around me properly.” The group chuckle, including Chris as he rolls his eyes. They do better this way around, but mostly due to George’s drinking skills.

The other teams watch on from their table. Arthur leaning past y/n slightly so he can get a good view. She can feel his breath slightly fanning on the back of her ear, but team Gherking’s entertaining performance is distracting enough for her to not get too flustered. Chip gives Becky a subtle “Oop” and when she turns back to look at him, he gestures his head towards y/n and Arthur. From their angle, the pair are sat so close. Arthur’s elbow is resting on the table, his hand sat next to y/n’s side. His upper body is twisted toward her, his chest slightly pressed to her right shoulder. Any public onlookers would assume they’re a couple. Becky looks back to Chip and rolls her eyes with a beaming smile. Their chemistry already was undeniable, although a bit of liquid confidence may be part of the reason.

Arthur and Chip are next, stepping into shot. Chip stands behind Arthur as Cal passes a pint to him. “Uh Chip, what’s that in your pocket?” Arthur jokingly asks.

“You don’t wanna know bro” Chip replies. They do a fantastic job, Chip very gently tilting the pint more and more as Arthur gulps. Already he drinks the pint twice as fast as George and Chris’s first go. They switch places.

“What’s that massive thing poking my ass?” Chip shouts, turning to y/n and giving her a subtle wink with a smirk, being careful to not get caught by any of the cameras.

“Oh my word!” Arthur calls out in shock, followed by a chuckle as he shakes his head. Y/n laughs as she leans her head down into her arms resting on the table. She’s terrified of the cameras picking up any possible redness in her face. The pair do a great job again, their tactic was slow and steady after watching George rush Chris. They did miles better.

It’s the girls’ turn, Becky taking position behind y/n first. “Give us a hum or something if I’m pouring too fast hun,” Becky instructs in her ear. Y/n nods with a determined grin. Arthur looks on at y/n’s physique, as he hadn’t been able to look before. She carries herself confidently yet she’s humble, something he finds so attractive. The pair do an amazing job and then switch places. “Y/n your ass is very soft and squishy!” Becky exclaims, patting her on the back for finishing the pint quite fast.

“This old thing?” Y/n jokingly replies, looking back to Becky and sticks her butt out slightly towards her. The drinks may be going to her head already. They both laugh as y/n giggles out an apology as Becky shakes her head. “Oh my…” Arthur quietly says to himself as he turns to Chip, being sure not to allow himself to stare, instead he locks eyes with his smirking teammate.

Y/n stands behind Becky and takes the pint from Cal. Y/n leans forward, her head just above Becky’s shoulder so she can watch Becky’s face and pour based on her expression. “Looks like she’s pouring based on Becky’s swallows, good tactic!” Cal calls out. Arthur watches on, taking into account y/n’s care to Becky. Chip leans over the table. “She’s clever and caring bro, wife her up!” Chip whispers. Arthur exhales a laugh through his nose at Chips words, he slightly shakes his head but doesn’t take his eyes off y/n.

The Fe-Mails finish the fastest, against all odds. Chris blames George for pouring too fast and George retorts by saying Chris whined too much. The scores now as follows:

Bone Apetit: 3 points

The Fe-Mails: 3 points

Gherkings: 6 points

The next pub isn’t too far away, about a four minute walk. Chris runs up ahead of George, Arthur, and Chip to reach y/n who is walking alongside Becky and Cal. “So y/n, how are you finding pub golf so far?” he asks, with a camerman walking alongside them.

“I’m really enjoying it so far thanks,“ she starts, “it’s been really fun and everyone’s so nice.”

“Oh yeah, you haven’t met some of the guys before. Cal, Arthur, and Chip right? Alongside the crew?” Chris replies.

“Oop, Chris just said your name” Chip teases Arthur quietly. Arthur looks up ahead of him to see Chris and y/n talking in front of a camera while walking. “You two are really getting on aren’t you, you and y/n?” he adds, patting Arthur on the back.

“Yeah, she’s really nice,” he smiles as he whispers, “She’s just like she is in her videos, not that I thought she wouldn’t be or anything.”

“Yeah, I’d been watching her stuff for a while and before even meeting her, I thought that you guys should meet,” George chimes in, joining Arthur’s other side. “You’re both awkward and nerdy and funny, two peas in a pod really.”

“Really?” Arthur enquires, quite loud, and the boys shush him as y/n and Chris are only a couple of metres ahead and could’ve heard.

They arrive at the third pub already, but there were no seats outside available, so they all squeeze into a round booth inside, with Cal in the middle. From left to right is Becky, Chris, Chip, Cal, George, Arthur, and y/n.

A tray full of shots gets placed on the round table. Cal explains to the camera that this round is an alphabet game where starting with Arthur, they’ll take turns clockwise naming something within a category, from A-Z. Whoever hesitates or says a word starting with the wrong letter, they need to drink a shot. A shot in this game earns a point for the team. The first round is dog breeds, matching Chip and Arthur’s costumes. It goes as follows:

Arthur: “Alsatian”

Y/n: “Bulldog”

Becky: “Chihuahua”

Chris: “Uhh… Dalmatian!”

Chip: “Errr…”

“Hesitation!” Chris and Cal both shout. Chip puts his head in his hands and groans. He picks up a shot and shouts “I can’t think of any dogs starti’ with E!”

“English bull terrier!” Arthur calls, gesturing fake-angrily, “It’s OUR theme!”

“Aw man!” Chip replies as he downs his shot. Arthur chuckles, turning to look at y/n who’s also enjoying the antics. Arthur doesn’t notice at first, but his leg is pressed against y/n’s, mostly due to George manspreading.

George turns to Arthur, “That’s handy, I couldn’t think of a dog beginning with F either,” he chuckled, shrugging.

“A Frenchie?” Y/n replied, leaning forward past Arthur.

“Yeah, a French bulldog, y/n literally said ‘bulldog’ and basically gave that to you!” Arthur laughs, as he nudges y/n.

Round two is fruit and vegetables, based on team Gherkings. Starting with Chip, the game begins:

Chip: “Avocado! Yes!”

George: “B…Banana”

Arthur: “Cantaloupe”

Y/n: “Dragon fr-“

“Brother that’s an animal!” Chip interrupts, pointing at Arthur.

“Cantaloupe?” George asks with both surprise and a smirk as the group laughs.

“You’re thinking of an antelope!” Arthur calls back.

“You’re on the same team!” Chris chortles.

“Y/n, hesitation!” Cal exclaims.

Y/n’s jaw drops, Arthur looks to her in surprise.

“That’s not fair!” Y/n retorts.

“Yeah, she started talking but Chip interrupted” Becky adds.

“To be fair, she said ‘dragon fruit’, I heard her.” Arthur claims, matter of factly as he leans back and puts a hand on y/n’s shoulder, giving it a pat.

“I didn’t hear her, did anyone else hear her besides Arthur?” Cal asks the group.

“I didn’t.” George answers, smugly, shooting a grin towards y/n.

“I did!” Becky adds.

“Well that’s bollocks,” Chris states as he crosses his arms, “if George didn’t hear it, you’re not gonna hear it from all the way over there!”

“George is lying!” “Because George is lying” y/n and Arthur exclaim at the same time.

George sarcastically presses a hand to his heart, feigning a hurt expression.

“That settles it, y/n hesitated.” Cal finalises, smacking the table like a judge with a gavel. George picks up a shot and hands it to y/n “Drink up,” he grins. She takes the shot from him as she narrows her eyes at him.

“Fine, but this means war.” she jokingly murmurs before taking the shot, disgusted by the aftertaste.

“Well done,” Arthur says, leaning back to touch her shoulder again, giving it a squeeze as he grins at her.

The third round is items you’d find in a post office. “Chip, as you interrupted y/n last round, you can start.” Cal states.

Chips stutters, “A…analytics, like sheets of analytics and data and stuff!”

“Absolutely not.” Chris says.

“Boxes!” George shouts, not taking any chances.

“I’m sorry, no.” Chris continues.

“Chris, if you continue interrupting and time wasting, you’ll need to take a shot.” Cal states. The game continues:

Arthur: “Calendar”

Y/n: “Desk!”

Becky: “Eeeeenvelopes”

Chris: “Ummm… F…”

“Hesitation!” Cal shouts, slamming the table again as the others join in shouting.

“Uh, fine!” Chris groans as he downs a shot, sticking his tongue out and shaking his head. “Bloody awful.”

“So, each team has one point each?” George questions, “Well that game was fucking pointless then!”

Cal nods, pretending to be deeply disappointed in everyone. “I was worried this would happen,” he starts, “So we have one more round!”

The cameras whip around everyone as ‘ooh’s echo throughout. The final round was for countries. “Chris, you start.”

Chris: “Argentina”

Chip: “Belgium“

George: “China”

Arthur: “Denmark”

Y/n: “England”

Becky: “… France”

Chris: “Germany”

Chip: “Hhhhhungary!”

George (laughing): “Iceland”

Arthur: “Japan”

Y/n: “Um… Kazakhstan”

Becky: “L…ondon!”

“No!” Y/n cries out, belly laughing as she puts her head in her hands. Arthur laughs along with her and pats her on the back.

“I’m sorry, I panicked!” Becky calls out, immediately grabbing a shot and drinking as Cal shouts: “Incorrect!”

“‘London’” Chris quietly says to himself as he chuckles.

“Don’t worry Becks, I thought London too,” Chip leans forward, calling to Becky who had her head on the table.

The scores at the end of this game are:

Bone Appetite: 4

The Fe-Mails: 5

Gherkings: 7

As the group stand up from the booth, the drinks are starting to get to the group’s heads. “Fuckin’ ‘ell!” Becky shouts, wobbling as she carefully steps out of the booth, Chris getting up behind her with his arms outreached ready to catch her if she falls. Y/n gets up and stumbles slightly, catching herself on the table. Arthur smiles and reaches out to her at the same time. “Woah, careful there!” he chuckles.

Heading to the next pub, Chip loses his footing off the curb, his ankle buckling as he drops to the floor. He’s totally fine and just lays there laughing as Becky and Chris immediately head over to help him up, also cackling. “Oop! Was that a fall there Chip?” Cal questions, pointing at the obviously collapsed man on the floor.

“No…” Chip replies as he’s pulled to his feet.

“Do you want a point for the team or a shot at the next pub?” Cal asks.

“Point. No, shot!” Chip shouts.

“I’m sorry but I’m gonna have to go for your first answer,” Cal states, “One extra point to Bone Appetite!” Arthur shakes his head with a small snigger as he walks beside Cal, a camera pointing at them both.

George is walking alongside y/n, at the front of the group. “Having a good time?” He asks. A little tipsy, she giggles.

“I really am, thanks for getting me on here.” She beams. George grins back.

“I’m glad. And I must say, you’ve made an astonishing first impression.” He states.

“Really?”

“Yep, I’ve seen the crew laugh at some of your jokes. Chip thinks you’re proper nice, and don’t get me started on Arthur.” George elaborates.

Y/n looks to George shyly, “What d’you mean?”

“What’s that?” Arthur asks as he darts ahead to join George and y/n, walking on the other side of her.

“Nothing bad Television, I was just telling y/n what a good impression she’s made already today with her pub golf debut.” George calmly explains. Arthur nods, looking to y/n with a sweet smile.

“You really have!” He adds, his beam so wide his eyes close. “You’ll definitely be asked to join again. If not by Chris, which would make him an idiot, but by the viewers.”

Y/n gets bashful. “Aw, thanks!” She replies.

“And I certainly want you to join again,” Arthur continues, looking y/n in the eyes with a genuine smile.

“Yeah, because you’re terrible and give us a good boost.” George adds, sporting a childish smirk before then drifting back to join the others behind them.

“He’s such an idiot sometimes, ignore him.” Arthur whispers, “His team’s losing anyway.”

Reaching the fourth pub, more shots were purchased for the players. They stand around a circular table outside as Cal announces the rules: Each player must down their shot, with their hands behind their back and only using their mouth to lift the glass. Any spills, leftover drink, or using hands earns the player’s team a point.

Chris goes first and accidentally leaves a little drink at the bottom. Chip and Arthur scream for Cal to penalise him while George squeezes his nose bridge in half-joking frustration. Cal gives team Gherkings a point for not finishing the shot. Becky’s next and completes her shot with ease. “Piece of piss!” She gloats while pointing at the camera. Chip’s next and being giggly and tipsy, he giggles mid-drink and spits the glass out. The drink spills everywhere and the shot glass bounces off the table and shatters on the floor. Arthur clasps his hands to his head, “What are you doing?” He exclaims.

“That’s two points for Bone Appetite, not just for spilling but for breaking a glass!” Cal calls. Arthur playfully shakes Chip by the shoulders with gritted teeth. Chip just giggles. Becky pumps a fist in the air and hi-fives y/n, as they both realise they’re in first place now.

George takes his shot just fine, followed by Arthur. Y/n watches Arthur’s lips around the glass, feeling a little flustered as he furrows his eyebrows in concentration. Arthur drinks his shot just fine too. Y/n’s last and also has the giggles, nervous she’ll make the same mistake as Chip. “Calm yourself babes, focus!” Becky cheers on. Y/n clasps her hands behind her lower back and leans forward, gripping the shot glass with her lips. George looks to Arthur, raising his eyebrows and pressing his lips together, luckily both are out of view of the cameras. Arthur clears his throat awkwardly and locks eyes with George. “Oh grow up” Arthur quietly murmurs, rolling his eyes with a playful smile. Although he can’t deny, he’s starting to break a sweat.

Y/n lifts the glass and tilts her head back fine, but Chip then makes a fake orgasm moan which causes her to laugh. Unlike Chip however, she leans forward and the drink lands back in the shot glass, and she places it back on the table with her mouth. “What the hell Chip?” She calls out, chortling as she stood straight again.

“One point to the Fe-Mails!” Cal declares.

With that round over, the scores are:

The Fe-Mails: 6

Bone Appetite: 7

Gherkings: 8

Heads are starting to spin from the last few shots, and it shows in all the players now. Chris in particular is struggling, groaning as he walks along with the group on the way to the penultimate pub. “Chris, if you chunder you get a point for each spew!” Cal calls to him from the back of the group.

“Fuck off, we’re losing anyway!” Chris shouts back.

“Only by one point, you idiot!” George snaps at his suffering teammate. Cal looks to the camera with fake outrage.

“Did he just disrespect the ref?”, the cameraman made the camera nod. He turns back to the group and puts a hand either side of his mouth. “One point to team Gherkings for disrespecting the ref!”

The girls are also struggling, clinging onto each other as y/n’s steps in particular become gradually more wobbled as they waddle alongside George. Arthur chuckles from behind them. “Wow, you really ARE bad at this y/n!” he calls. She’s too busy concentrating on not falling over to fight back with a witty comment and just giggles.

Reaching the fifth pub, they realise there are no chairs available inside or out, so the crew go to the bar to grab the drinks while the players head back out the pub entrance and all stand on the street. Cal hands Becky and y/n a pint each. “Try not to spew this one back in the glass this time y/n!” Arthur sniggers, his liquid courage getting to him. Becky gives him a middle finger and Chip chuckles.

“Don’t start with me Arthur or I’ll spew on you!” Y/n retorts, not her best comeback but she’s beyond tipsy at this point.

“He’d probably like that,” George whispers under his breath, making Chris cackle.

This round is pretty simple, one teammate needs to feed the other as much of a pint as possible within 10 seconds. If any teammate finishes the pint before the 10 seconds, the team gets one point deducted from their score. Becky and y/n go first, Becky doing the pouring for y/n. “Just squeeze my shoulder if you want me to slow down yeah?” Becky explains, “I’ve seen the others do it before.”

Y/n nods, putting her arm around Becky and resting on her shoulder. “I’ve seen it too, good plan.” She replies. Remarkably, y/n manages almost all the pint, following Becky’s suggestion. The boys cheer her as it’s the best performance y/n has done so far. They swap places and Becky puts her arm around y/n. Watching on from the side, chip slaps Arthur’s back. “Bet you’d love to put your arm around y/n like that wouldn’t you?” He whispers. George, standing the other side chimes in, making quiet kissy noises. Arthur presses his hand to his brow bone and giggles to himself. “You guys are too much, seriously.”

“Honestly mate, she seems into you, she’d probably let you.” Chris adds, standing in front of the boys but hearing everything. He turns to look at Arthur, so he can see Chris is being genuine.

“I don’t know her that well, but for the time I’ve known her, she hasn’t radiated this much with anyone as she’s done with you.” George adds, also using a legitimate tone. Patting Arthur on the back.

Y/n tips the glass for Becky, the whole time watching her face and paying close attention to the hand on her shoulder. “Yes Becky” she quietly chants throughout the 10 seconds, but sadly Becky also doesn’t finish the whole pint in time. Next up are Bone Appetite, Chip deeply suffering as he barely downs half the pint before stopping and trying not to vomit. The boys shouting their fair shares of ‘uh oh’s, trying to make Chip feel worse. Chip doubles over and braces himself. Arthur stands beside him, “Seriously, you alright mate?” He asks calmly.

Chris stands beside y/n, a crew member filming them both. “I thought you’d be the first to go y/n,” he chuckles. Looking back over as the onesie wearers are both leaning against the wall. Y/n giggles, watching Arthur be a supportive friend and melting a little internally.

“Same here honestly” she replies, eliciting a laugh from Chris. Arthur and Chip step back into shot. Arthur pats his back lightly as Chip nods, confirming he’s okay to continue.

Chip begins pouring the drink into Arthur’s mouth. Y/n watching on as Arthur confidently gestures up with his spare arm so Chip can pour faster. Arthur remarkably finishes the pint, reducing their team’s point by one. The other players applaud, y/n is impressed, her eyes wide and mouth slightly open. “You’re drooling” George whispers as he leans into her and winks, he and Chris making their way in front of the camera for their turn. Arthur and Chip cross them, Chip heading inside because he needs a ‘massive slash’ and Arthur joining y/n.

Y/n is stood leaning against the wall as Arthur stands beside her, his arm reached out and hand behind her, pressed against the wall. Shuffling her feet as she watches the Gherkings have their turn, she steps back slightly and the back of her neck meets Arthur’s arm. “Oh, sorry,” she awkwardly whispers to him, letting out a small giggle. Arthur tuts with a faint smile.

“Don’t be silly!” He whispers as he moves his lips closer to her ear, reaching his hand round to squeeze her shoulder a little, before returning it back to the wall. He catches her smiling to herself as he returns his gaze back to George and Chris, and he can’t stop himself from beaming either.

George pouring into Chris’s mouth didn’t go well, only managing half the pint. When they swap however, George also manages to finish his pint. They lose a point for their team, the Fe-Mails being the only team whose score stays the same. The scores at the end of this round are:

The Fe-Mails: 6

Bone Apetit: 6

Gherkings: 7

The gang head off to the last pub, wobblier than ever. Chris and Arthur are busy keeping Chip afloat, neither of them holding themselves too well either. George has his arms around Becky and y/n, he himself being the most sober of the players. “Look at George, Arthur, and Chris. Chivalrous as ever.” Cal says to the camera with a grin. They all pile into the pub, situating at a six-seater table. Cal pulls up a stool at the end again. Chris, Arthur, and Chip head down one side of the table and Becky, y/n, and George move down the other. Y/n sits opposite Arthur, but luckily she’s already flushed from the drinks.

“Okay guys, it’s the final game of the night!” Cal begins as the cameras focus on the table. He explains the rules: each team has a cocktail pitcher that they have to pour into their glasses and drink until the pitcher is empty. Fastest drinking team wins.

Bone Appetite go first, Arthur drinking more than Chip, but they manage to finish the pitcher in under a minute. Next is Becky and y/n. Y/n sniffs the pitcher and shudders. “I don’t think I’ll keep this stuff down Becky” she chuckles, embarrassed.

“Aw, you’ll be alright, I can take more drink if you want!” Becky replies, to which y/n nods. The boys look on with excitement, The Fe-Mails essentially one man down, all except Arthur. Despite wearing a smile to fit the others, deep down he can’t help but worry for y/n, not wanting her to spew on camera in her first ChrisMD video appearance. However, Becky sticks to her promise and takes the heavier load and they complete their turn, although slightly slower than Bone Appetite. Y/n pauses for a moment, a clenched fist held to her mouth. The gang stop to watch her, making sure she doesn’t spew but after a few seconds, she composes herself. “Phew, I’m fine!” She smiles. Becky and the boys relax.

Although it doesn’t seem like Chris is holding up too well either, as George drags their pitcher to rest in between them. “Chin up dearest,” George starts, “we got a game to win.”

Chris lets out a low burp into his hand, groaning out an “Oh god” that’s barely audible. Arthur excitedly looks to Chip, then to Becky and y/n, his eyes wide and lips pursed in an ‘ooh’ shape.

They start, but George quickly takes the lead as Chris struggles. As soon as he finishes his glass, Chris makes a dash from the table, leaving George and the rest to watch on in shock. “I won’t give him a point for vomiting just yet.” Cal chuckles. George turns his attention back to the pitcher, well aware that that they’re still against the clock, and pours himself a glass to continue. Remarkably, he finishes the entire pitcher’s worth and catches up to the girls’ time but wasn’t able to beat Chip and Arthur.

With the final game over, George excuses himself to check on his teammate, and the others talk amongst themselves. As Arthur talks with Chip, he gestures his hand a little too fast, knocking a glass of half melted ice over, the cold water spilling across the table, and dripping onto y/n’s lap. “Oh no!” He cries, eyes wide open as he clasps his hands to his mouth in horror. Y/n yelps at the sudden coldness but soon laughs it off.

“Spillage!” Becky shouts, pointing from the table to y/n while staring directly at Cal.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Shit.” Arthur mumbles, “Let me get you some napkins!” He gets up and rushes away.

“Surely that doesn’t count as a spillage, the drink was all drink up- drunk up,” Chip tries reasoning with Cal.

“Nope, still a spill. A drink was spilled Chip!” Cal quips back in an authoritative but jokey tone. “One point to Bone Appetite!”

Arthur reappears at the table, retaking his seat and passing y/n a scrunched up bundle of napkins as she stands up ready to wipe herself.

“Thank you, good boy!” She giggles as she half-drunkenly leans over pats Arthur on the head, then proceeding to dab her trousers. Arthur looks super surprised at first, as Chip and Becky chortle, before breaking out into laughter himself.

“Brother I’m sorry, you got us a point but your face just then was so worth it!” Chip chuckles. Y/n sits back down, using the remainder of the napkins to dry the table. Arthur feeling all too aware that he may be blushing after being called a ‘good boy’ by the hottest girl he’s ever met, turns his head away from the table, nonchalantly saying “Where are the pickle boys?” to avoid the cameras picking up on any redness in his face. Luckily for him, they both appear from round the corner and return to the table. Sitting down and tucking their chairs in, Chris looks to Cal and bluntly says “Yeah, I threw up” with sheepish look, then he looks to the camera and sighs. George pretends to smell Chris’s bad breath and wafts his hand, then chuckles.

“One point to team Gherkings!” Cal starts, “And with that, the final scores are…” the players begin to smack their hands on the table for a drum roll. “In third place with 11 points is team Gherkings!” the other two teams clap as Chris put his hand to his chest and makes a faint bow. George puts his head down, smirking and gesturing at a very pale Chris, murmuring an “Obviously.”

“And now for first place… it’s a tie between Bone Appetite and The Fe-Mails!” Cal finishes. The table exchange a few ‘oohs’. “I thought this may happen,” Cal continues, “Therefore we have a tie breaker to determine first and second place!”

All of a sudden, two crew members approach the table with four baby Guinnesses, placing one in front of each of the tied team members.

“Oh god, I can’t drink anymore.” Chip whines, eliciting a low laugh from the table.

“I’m not sure if I can either.” Becky adds.

“Each team member will drink their baby Guinness, the faster of both teams will then compete in an arm wrestle.” Cal explains.

“Okay.” Y/n says to herself, determined, her hand ready on her small glass. She had assumed her team would’ve come last because of her, so beating George gave her some encouragement.

“Three-two-one-go!” Cal suddenly shouts very fast, hoping to throw them all off.

Chip doesn’t even move, he remains staring at his baby Guinness in defeat with his hands on his lap.

“Oh, fuck!” Becky calls out, quickly reaching for her drink and downing it. However y/n and Arthur had already finished theirs within just over a second.

Cal claps his hands together and declares: “Arthur and y/n win the race! Get ready to arm wrestle.” They lock eyes and reposition themselves ready. Both feeling a little heated from the eye contact, but they know it’ll make for good shots for the video.

“Get him, y/n!” Becky cheers.

“Don’t go easy on her Arthur!” Chip chants, patting Arthur on the back. The pair rest their elbows on the table and clasp hands, immediately feeling electricity from the contact, and hoping the spark isn’t visible on camera.

“You’re toe-ing… you’re going to do a Fe-FAIL!” Arthur stammers, the baby Guinness going straight to his head. The players laugh, including himself. Y/n cackles with her head down. Arthur squeezes her hand slightly to bring her attention back to the game. She lifts her head back up, locking eyes with him again and attempting a deadpan face. “Someone mute this TV, it-“ but she bursts out laughing before finishing her sentence. Arthur lets out a ‘pfft’ laugh, leaning his head back and squinting his eyes together.

“This is painful,” Chris chuckles, rubbing circles into his eyes with his hands.

“Indeed it is,” Cal adds, “Ready? Start on ‘go’.” The pair’s eyes meet again, y/n slightly turns her wrist to make the wrestle harder for Arthur and gives him a small squeeze. Arthur bites his lip and furrows his brows in response, staring at their connected hands. Y/n is seemingly unaware of just how strong Arthur with his sleeper build, although she’d never tell Arthur (or anyone for that matter) that she’s seen a lot of edits where he is shirtless.

“Three, two, one, go!” Cal calls. Immediately y/n seems to have the upper hand for a few seconds, Arthur’s hand mere inches from the table. Chris and Chip cheer Arthur on, telling him to pick up the slack. Meanwhile, George and Becky chant y/n’s name and smack the table in rhythm. Arthur’s face is contorted as he struggles, watching y/n as she stares at their hands. As soon as she glances back at Arthur, he suddenly smirks and slams her hand down on the table. “Oh my god!” Chip calls out, perking up and slamming his fists on the table with excitement.

“Outstanding. Arthur wins the arm wrestle, which means Bone Appetite wins this video’s pub golf with 7 points!” Cal declares gesturing to his right at the champions. Y/n’s still staring at Arthur with a wide mouth and still with her hand pinned down under Arthur’s. One cameraman zooms in to capture Chip and Arthur’s celebratory reaction, as Chip shakes Arthur’s shoulders and cheers until his voice breaks. Only then does Arthur realise he’s still holding y/n’s hand, giving her hand a couple of small squeezes again before letting go and giving Chip a hug.

Y/n smiles and pulls her hand away to applaud the winners with a smile, alongside the other players. Cal then turns to the girls. “And well done to The Fe-Mails, second place with 8 points!” He exclaims before clapping. Y/n and Becky both let out some ‘woop’s before throwing their prop envelopes in the air like confetti. Arthur and Chip then clap for them.

“Aw commiserations ladies” Chip taunts the girls, his clapping slowing but increasing in volume as he sticks out his bottom lip.

“Ah shut up you, you barely did anything!” Becky retorts.

“Yeah,” y/n joins in, pushing his baby Guinness closer to him. He fake gags and presses his head into Arthur’s neck.

“They’re bullying me Arthur!” He cries against him.

“Not gonna lie, you kind of deserved it,” Arthur replies giggling, watching y/n laugh.

The crew head outside to do their final clips, one by one they partake in the same interview they did before the pub golf games started. The question being a slight variation: ‘How did you fare today?’

Chris’s answer validates his answer at the beginning. Squeezing the bridge of his nose, he chuckles and bluntly answers: “We did shit.”

George’s answer is a stark contrast against his initial confident response. “I would’ve won if it wasn’t for that hobbit” he jokingly states with his arms crossed, his head gesturing towards his paling teammate.

Chip’s nonchalant ‘we’ll do alright I think’ from before was also very different to his new response: “We fucking smashed it, I knew we would!”

Arthur sticks to his dog theme with his answer. “We had fun and were the winners, in dog years this means we had seven times the fun… and seven times the wins” he exclaims with a big smile.

“I think we did fantastic, we would’ve won if it were me doing the arm wrestle, but we still smashed it!” Becky answers, confident as ever, pumping a fist towards the camera.

Lastly is y/n’s final answer. “I bloody loved it,” she chuckles, “I had the best time with the best people, I… had the best time!”

Chris struggles to get through the outro for the video while the others stand either side of him, smiling. The film crew stop recording and put their kits away, all heading back into the pub to have their own drinks, and the players follow them. Chris and Cal sit at a long table with their crew, whereas George, Chip, Becky, Arthur, and y/n head towards booth beside them. Arthur gestures for y/n to slide into the bench first, and he follows suit. Opposite them slides in Chip and George. “Guys my uber is here!” Becky announces. She says her goodbyes to everyone, calling y/n her partner in crime as y/n leans across the table to give her a hi-five. Arthur looks down to his lap shyly as y/n’s face was dangerously close to his during Becky’s farewell. “Have fun y/n” she says in a suggestive tone, before winking at her and leaving the pub. Y/n giggles to herself and readjusts her position.

“What was that about, why’d she say that like that?” Arthur asks y/n, his head tilted and leans closer towards y/n, narrowing his eyes with intrigue.

“Oh, that’s… nothing, she’s just being silly!” Y/n awkwardly replies, unclipping her mic from her collar to put in her pocket.

“Hmm… yeah…” Arthur murmurs, still looking at her suspiciously, but realising he’s still wearing his mic and removes his too. “I’ll give these back to Chris, do you want a drink? Anyone?” Arthur asks, directing the notion to the whole booth.

“I’ll just have a water please,” y/n answers.

“Me too,” George adds.

“If I drink anything else, I’ll fucking die.” Chip murmurs.

“Okay, three waters, I’ll be right back.” Arthur takes the mic packs and heads to Chris’s table. George leans towards y/n with his elbows on the table and his chin resting in his hands.

“Enjoyed the arm wrestle didn’t we?” He teases. Chip copies George’s pose, also awaiting y/n’s reply.

“Actually my wrist hurts now,” y/n awkwardly replies, rubbing her wrist.

“That’s not what I meant, don’t think I didn’t see you two still holding hands way after the arm wrestle was over!” George replies.

“Really?” Chip remarks, “Guess I was too busy celebrating to notice!”

Y/n eyes widen. “You don’t think the cameras picked up on it do you?” She asks awkwardly, “I’m still dealing with the y/n x Becky accusations!”

Arthur makes his way back to the table, juggling three glasses of water. He offers Chip some of his water, to which Chip declines. They chat away about the day for the next few minutes, Arthur’s arm brushing past y/n’s every so often while talking, and occasionally his leg touches hers too. George being a ‘bro’ to both Arthur and y/n, excuses himself to go to the toilets, subtly gesturing for Chip to leave too. Chip says he wants some fresh air and heads outside, leaving Arthur and y/n alone. The booth suddenly feels more intimate.

Arthur shifts on the bench so he’s facing y/n more, his right arm resting on the back of the bench, his hand by y/n’s head. She turns to face him too, her elbow resting on the table and her head on her hand. “Did you enjoy today?” He asks quietly, struggling to maintain eye contact now they’re alone and off camera. She nods, sitting up straighter but looking at her lap awkwardly.

“It was probably the best video I’ve ever been a part of, including my own” she replies with a giggle.

“Really? That fun, huh?” Arthur responds, now looking at her. She nods again.

“Was there anything in particular, or the whole day as a whole?” He queries.

“The whole day,” y/n beams. Arthur then nods, y/n looks around the pub before feeling brave. “Actually, you definitely made things more fun” She adds. Arthur’s eyes widen as he takes a sip of his water, trying to come up with something to say. Y/n follows suit, although it’s because her mouth has become extremely dry.

“What do you mean?” He questions, studying her face with a flattered grin.

“You just made me feel super comfortable, not that anyone made me UNcomfortable, but yeah. It really helped calm my nerves.” Y/n explains.

“Aw well, I’m so glad to hear that,” Arthur replies, moving his hand from the back of the bench to y/n’s shoulder and giving it a gentle jostle. “I think this was my favourite pub golf, by far,” He continues, “and that was down to you, most definitely.”

There was a cozy silence between the two. Y/n nods gleefully as she takes another sip of her water. As she sets the glass back down, she looks to Arthur to see him studying her face. His smile still visible, although more so in his eyes rather than his lips, as his gaze flutters over her features, pausing at her mouth before darting back up to her eyes. They can feel each other slowly leading in.

“Arthur, y/n,” Chris startles them with a hand tapping on the table, “uh sorry, we’re all heading off now. You coming?” Y/n checks her phone, surprised to see it’s getting late. She didn’t originally know how long these pub golf videos take, and it certainly didn’t feel like it took a whole entire day. Arthur turns back to look at y/n with an inquisitive smile. “We’re gonna head back to theirs to watch a horror movie or something, if you want to join?” He asks.

“Yeah, you can crash if you’re not busy tomorrow too, Arthur’s staying over.” Chris chimes in. Y/n of course, accepts the invitation.

Chip makes his own way home, promising to text once he’s back safe. George, Chris, Arthur, and y/n head into a taxi to travel back to the boys’ flat. Chris sits in front with the driver, chatting away with him. Whereas y/n is sandwiched in the back between Arthur and George. “Come on y/n, put us out of our misery,” George starts, his odd sentence gains him confused glances from y/n and Arthur, “who do you think you’ll be shipped most with by the viewers after this video goes live?” He continues with a cheeky grin.

“Probably Becky again.” Y/n chuckles, replying fast without much thought.

“You and Becky, ey?” George enquires, pretending to think as he looks to the ceiling of the taxi and rubs his chin before adding: “Now there’s an image.”

“Don’t be such a perve!” Arthur scolds half-heartedly. They all share a snigger.

“I recon you two.” Chris chimes in, turning in his chair and gesturing to y/n and Arthur with a genuine smile, though his voice raspy.

“Oh really?” Arthur questioned, his cheeks beginning to burn again as y/n turns to look at him. The closeness of their faces in the cramped taxi adding to the heat as they lock eyes and share giggle.

♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥

[PART TWO]

A/n: my first fic! I hope you enjoyed, sorry it was long. I basically wrote out an entire YouTube view lol but I loved writing it nonetheless. I love a good fluffy slow burner, but I also love smut too so watch this space, hehe Part two at the boys’ flat? Also, shall I write a follow-up where y/n and Arthur end up in a pub golf pair after popular demand from the viewers? - Gabby xo

[eelnoise]

headroom (nsfw)

zoro x fem!reader

in which you and zoro take a moment to slip away

wc: 1.1k cw: closet sex, sweet n soft zoro, kinda?primal zoro, zoro in love an: hello!!!!!!!!!

masterlist | kofi

It's rare to get some privacy at sea. Between the comings and goings of any normal day aboard the ship it's unlikely to have a moment to breathe your own air – let alone any chance of true privacy.

So sometimes it's forced. 

All it takes is your eyes meeting that makes Zoro act. With most of the others topside, he takes his chance to wander over toward you. 

Zoro's palm falls to your shoulder as you look up to smile at him, and he feels his cheeks warm, though he thinks you may be feigning the look of soft curiosity that comes with it. His thumb traces a random pattern into the back of your neck – a small gesture that brings a much bigger proposition. 

Let's get out of here.

Your confirmation comes with a nod of your head, and – faster than he can remember – he finds himself locked away with you in one of the lower, lesser used utility closets below deck atop a pair of crates that work as a makeshift stool.  

Zoro’s hands trail up the warmth of your back as you straddle his lap, and while his touch could never be as gentle as yours, he presses his fingertips into your bare flesh as tenderly as he can. His grip is firm, but delicate – handling you as if something easily breakable and not because he thinks he has to, but because he wants to. 

You pull away from him, granting the both of you some air. Your lips are already curled into a relaxed smile, and before he can return it you lean in again to begin kissing along his jawline. Zoro's eye flutters shut, his breath hitching as your lips brush against the skin of his jaw. He leans into the touch, a soft sound of contentment escaping from his lips.

As your kisses travel further down, tracing the line of his neck, Zoro's grip on your hips tightens. He leans backward, peacefully adrift in the love you have for him – though you nearly knock the air in his lungs right back out when your trail ends with a long, soft kiss to the exact spot that the scar across his chest meets with his heartbeat.

Zoro freezes and his eye snaps open again as he leans forward and suddenly stares down at you. The old wound, a permanent testimony of a singular failure, clashes against the weight of his whole heart that you cradle against your lips. 

Something in his body language changes then, his muscles tense and his grip on you tightens harshly enough for you to gasp in surprise. And he lifts you with ease, scooping his arms beneath your legs to press your back to the inner wall of the closet before descending upon you. He acts on instinct, hungrily claiming your lips and pressing his weight against you, swallowing every mewl you sing into him. 

Zoro only eases his hold long enough to slide his cock free and slide it against your glistening pussy. He taps his length against your clit and smirks when you whine at the contact. 

Zoro's lips ghost along your jaw, his kisses languid and slow as he begins to thrust into you – the rhythm unsteady and hurried. His hips roll forward with each stroke, his cock filling you up thoroughly, and he kisses you deeply, his tongue tangling with yours as he moans into your mouth.

He's lost in the sensation of you, the feeling of your tight heat wrapped around his length, the taste of your lips, the sound of your moans. It's almost too much, and it's a miracle that your breathless pants of his name seem to anchor him back into the moment even at the edge of his peak. Zoro forces himself away from you and feels his heart leap in his chest when he catches your heavy-lidded gaze. 

Your flushed cheeks, the saliva that still wets your parted lips, the look in your eye that tells him that you share the same adoration for one another – it isn’t often that he considers such things, but in this moment he regrets being unable to see you with both eyes. 

Zoro's thrusts slow to a crawl and he touches his forehead to yours, matching the soft smile you give him. “Together.” He murmurs, giving you a much more tender, careful kiss. 

He turns the both of you around and eases you back onto the crate. Hooking your legs around his waist, Zoro leans over and slowly begins to grind into you in deliberately designed strokes. His thumb comes to rub circles on your clit and he takes the chance to scoop you into his free arms and latch his lips to your nipple when you arch your back against him.

Hips move in time with his thumb and tongue, gradually increasing in speed just to slow to a crawl again – a meticulous pace that quickly has you bursting at the seams. Zoro holds you close, grunting against your breast when your walls clench down hard around him.

You babble nonsense between sighs of delirium, perceived half-sentences that fall incomplete when you suddenly cry out in finality. Zoro’s lips leave your flesh and he quickly unwraps his arm from around you to cup your cheek in his palm as you ride out your orgasm. 

You lean into his touch and exhale into his hand, your legs twitching and shaking around him while waves of pleasure spout through you. It's enough to bring him right back to the brink. 

Picking up his pace, he groans and grits his teeth as his release follows up the tail end of your own high, filling you and sputtering out to ooze down his cock.

Zoro can’t help but collapse atop you, breathlessly he settles his face into your neck and nuzzles against it. One of your hands comes to gently stroke the top of his head and he sighs happily into you. You whisper your love for him, and he sleepily returns it before pressing his lips to your neck.

Neither of you are sure how long you’d been gone or whether you’d fallen asleep or not, but it isn’t until presented with an empty galley with two plates of dinner left behind that it’s clear that maybe the supposed ‘privacy’ of a thinly walled utility closet isn’t all that true – and that maybe there would be snark in the morning pertaining to the prolonged absence. 

Though Zoro lacks the will to care, and – judging by the way you end the night curled next to him on his bunk – you don’t seem to mind either.

[bbydoll18xx]

I'll Be Your Temporary Fix (Pt 3)

Paige Bueckers x Media Team Reader

Read parts 1 and 2 here: Part 1 Part 2

Part 3 based on this request: 

Could you do a Paige x media team reader. Where Paige and reader are fake dating because Azzi is uncomfortable with the fans shipping her and Paige. Reader does it cus she owes Paige a favor (you can make something up).

Word Count: 1.9k

Hey everyone! Due to popular demand, here is part 3! This part is more angsty and is heavily inspired by my personal anthem 'The Bolter' by Taylor Swift (she really is my muse these days lol)

I hope you enjoy!

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

You wake up the next morning with sunlight streaming through the windows and a warm blonde cuddled into your neck. Paige is close, so close to you, and you can feel the tangled mess of the both of your legs underneath the blankets. 

It feels a little too perfect, and before you can begin to enjoy Paige’s sleepy affection, a wave of anxiety washes over you. It envelops you; a dark hood pulled over your head and blinding you from seeing the light that was Paige. 

Your chest begins to rise and fall in staccato breaths, and your labored breathing causes Paige to stir. She sleepily looks at you with a small smile. You had always loved the way she looked in the morning; her hair splayed over the pillows and her warmth beckoning to you, threatening to keep you in bed forever. 

Her voice is still husky with sleep, and it rouses you from your slumberous contemplations. “Mornin’ baby.” 

Hiding your blush in the soft blankets, you reply back shyly, “Hi, P.” Her gaze is heated, and it makes every nerve light up with warning signs. The whole situation was paradoxical, and you found yourself wanting to swim in her presence and run for the hills, simultaneously. 

Fighting the urge to jump from the bed and leave without turning back, you snuggle back into Paige’s arms, eliciting content moans from the both of you. 

You stay like that for a while, until a loud grumble from Paige’s stomach cuts through the silence, causing you both to giggle. 

You stumble out of Paige’s bed, reluctant to leave the cocoon of safety and warmth, in search of breakfast. You both sit at the small kitchen table with bagels in front of you, slightly overlooked in favor of your phones. You are scrolling Twitter, while Paige is on tiktok, and you periodically show each other if you see something particularly funny. The public is going wild over your little display at the bar last night. There are already edits galore, and it fucking terrifies you. 

Paige’s eyes are glued to the screen of her phone, and her stony face gives you no glimpse of what she is actually thinking. Until you see her bite her bottom lip, and she darts her tongue out to swipe across it. It brings some blood to your cheeks, and your head feels fuzzy. 12 hours ago you were the one sinking your teeth into the pillowy flesh of her bottom lip, and here you sat across from her, wondering if you’d ever be able to again. 

The questions in your mind have you wanting to bound away once more, and you grip the edge of the table in a feeble attempt at grounding yourself back to reality. You didn't think you’d ever even have a chance to be anything more than friends with Paige. And here you were eating breakfast with her after kissing her and cuddling in her bed. 

You were so fucked. 

You replay the last few days in your head once more. You knew this whole thing was such a bad idea, but you really could not help yourself. Clearly, or you wouldn’t be sitting across from Paige right now.

Trying to pacify your bubbling panic, you ask to see Paige’s phone, wanting to see what the fuss was about. She smirks as she hands it to you, fingers brushing against yours with a kind of sheer electricity you had never felt with anyone else. You shudder at the contact, hoping to blame it on the chill of her slim fingers. 

Avoiding her eye contact and glancing down at the screen, you see video upon video of the kiss, backed with sensual music that has your heart pounding. 

“Oh, my gosh,” you mutter, embarrassed at the amount of views and comments all of the tiktoks had. The bar was not quite as dark as you remembered, giving the cameras of the onlookers the perfect view of your little make-out session. 

You watch yourself kiss Paige a second time, forgetting that the aforementioned blonde was sitting right in front of you. It was your turn to bite your own bottom lip at the sultry music playing, eyes still glued to the way Paige had one hand loosely resting against your throat and the other on your jaw. Your hands were on her waist, pulling her closer and closer into you. 

She would never be close enough. 

Paige clears her throat, breaking you out of the trance from watching that damn kiss. “I think it was pretty believable, huh?” 

It was hard to hear her over the blood rushing in your ears. “Um, yeah. I think so…Listen I’m glad I could help you and Az, but I gotta go.”

Paige’s face is shocked at your sudden excuse, and before she can even attempt to stop you from fleeing, you are already running around gathering up your clothes from last night.

“I’ll return your sweats after I wash ‘em,” you mumble, already halfway out the door. The door closes with a slam, and then nothing but silence. Paige looks around, her beautiful features twisted in a look halfway between stunned and horrified. 

What had she done?

Little did she know that you were a bolter. 

‘The bolter’ was fondly coined to you by your friends. You had craved a real, all-consuming love for many years, but everyone always left. So you learned to leave first. You kept your hopes low, thus ensuring no one could get them up and leave you shattered. And here you were drowning in Paige, and she had all the power over you. And you hated that.

Walking back to your dorm, you vowed to avoid the blonde until your emotions were fully in check; you needed your “ice queen” persona back. You knew it’d be difficult considering your job was to chronicle her life, but you were really fucking stubborn.

You refused to let your intimacy issues and your deep-rooted fear of being hurt ruin Paige’s lively disposition.

You spend the next several days engulfing yourself in schoolwork and your media job. Paige reaches out to you several times, but she gets left on read, causing a pang of guilt to shoot through you. You knew it was for the best. 

But was it really?

You are pulled out of your thoughts a few evenings after leaving Paige by a pounding at your door. Your phone was open to tik tok once more, the images of you and Paige kissing had been like a drug to you; it was getting impossible to avoid. 

With an exasperated huff, you drag yourself off of your chair to open the door, and you are greeted with the harsh expressions of Nika and Azzi. 

Fuck. 

Before you can even attempt to settle their apparent fury, the two girls are barging into your room, gesturing to you to take a seat. Reluctantly doing so, in an effort to avoid pissing them off even more, you look up at them and wait for the diatribe to follow. 

Shockingly, it doesn't come. As you study their faces, they morph into genuine looks of hurt and disappointment. Somehow, that makes you feel worse. 

Azzi starts. “You want to explain to us why you’re ignoring Paige all of a sudden?”

“It wasn’t on purpose…” you trail off. 

Lies. Such lies.

You take a beat to gather your thoughts before continuing. “I don’t want to hurt her. But I can’t let myself get hurt either.”

Nika scoffs indignantly. “Please, Paige would never hurt you. We all know that.”

“I don’t know that,” you stress. “It’s killing me to think that I’m upsetting her, but it’s for the best. I’m terrible in relationships. The lines were already too blurry. I just drew the line in the sand before anything else could happen.”

Azzi flashes her puppy dog eyes at the hurt in your voice, and wraps a comforting arm around you.

“Life is too short to mourn something that’s still living,” she says wisely. “You’re missing out on a lot of happiness with that mindset.”

You knew there was some truth to her words, and taking a deep breath, you promised to reach out to Paige once your thoughts were in order. 

Feeling satisfied with your answer, Nika and Azzi left, but not without several threats. You couldn’t fuck this up this time.

Abandoning every instinct inside your body, you make the familiar trek back to Paige’s apartment. Your mind was racing, trying to find the words to the feelings that had been consuming you for an endless amount of time. Your legs carry you until you stop in front of the same door you had hurried out of a few days prior. A hand reaches up to knock, defiantly separating you from the dread that was attempting to stop you.

A few seconds pass, and you hold in a shaky breath in the anticipation of seeing your beautiful Paige once more. The door cracks open hesitantly, her blue eyes peering around the edge of it. Your heart breaks once your eyes are finally able to fully feast upon her features. She looks absolutely ruined. Her usually bright face was broken and expressionless, and it was hard to miss the darkness under her eyes. 

Tears spring to your eyes at her misery, and you immediately pull her into a hug.

“I’m so fucking sorry, P. I’m so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you.” The apologies fall out of your mouth like an incantation, desperate to fix your mess. 

Paige sniffles into your hair, and you want to fall apart once more. Moving your hands to her face, you wipe away the tears that had already fallen, silently vowing to never make her cry again. 

“What did I do?” she asks quietly, feeling humiliated that you had seen her in such a vulnerable state. 

“Nothing except give me the best kiss of my life. And I got scared. And when I’m scared, I run,” you whisper, still cradling her head in your small, shaking hands. 

“I messed up, not you. My feelings started consuming me, and I was so worried that once we didn’t have to pretend to date anymore, I would fall apart. Because I need you. I need you, Paige, and that fucking scares me.” 

You were being verbose at this point, hoping you could convince her. 

Paige finally looks at you, her eyes rimmed with red, and whispers “I need you, too.”

You let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding, and pulled her back into you once more, stroking her hair.  

The two of you sit in silence for a moment, soaking in each other’s presence that had been missed by the both of you. Once yours and Paige’s faces have dried up, and you are swaddled into her warm embrace again, you look up at her with a small smile on your face. 

“You think we could kiss like that again?” 

Paige just grins in response and pulls you in.

She was never letting you leave again, and you were no longer going to be the bolter.

Ta-da! What do we think? Should I write a part 4?

[fireflyinks]

I have an idea for a request :) 💗 sorry if this is long but what if hamzah did one of the solo out of character podcasts and then he invited y/n but then the sexual/romantic tension between them so they stop filming to do other stuff (can be the deed if you want to take a smut route or just making out or being cuddly for a fluffy route!) or maybe 🫣 they forget about the camera and accidentally capture stuff on camera

special guest

hamzah x reader smut

contains : smut, oral sex (both giving and receiving), no p in v, use of y/n, cursing, sort of exhibition (they record themselves but don’t post it), munch!hamzah

a/n : I LOVE THIS SM, munch!hamzah is my new favorite thing to write, i’m obsessed. anon you’re literally a genius. thank you so much for the support on all of my hamzah posts, i love you alllll

18+ MINORS DNI

∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗

Hamzah and I had been friends for a couple of years. Both of us had YouTube channels and lived near one another so we would hang often. There was an obvious connection between us, but Hamzah nor I were bold enough to point it out. The two of us simply enjoyed dancing around the face that we obviously had mutual feelings for one another.

I sat on my couch, editing my latest video when I felt my phone buzz beside me. I picked it up, reading “hamzah” spread across my screen and a .5 picture I’d taken of him. I swiped right to answer the call.

“Hello?”

“Hey Y/n. Are you busy?”

I shook my head as if he could see me, “No, what’s up?”

“Well, Martin is busy today and can’t record for our podcast, so I was wondering if you’d want to come record with me. Like a ‘special guest’ type thing?”

I thought for a moment. I hadn’t seen him in a while just because the two of us had busy, and viewers loved it when we made content together. We actually got shipped a lot, but Hamzah always ignored it, and I never brought it up. Part of me was glad that even the fans noticed that there was something between us.

“Yeah, why not? That sounds fun, when do you want me to come over?”

Hamzah took a beat before answering. “You could come over now, and afterwards we could order dinner or something, yeah? You’ll have to come to Martin’s apartment because that’s where we film, it’s not too far from mine. I’ll send you the address.”

“I’m on my way, see ya in a second.”

“Thanks, y/n, drive safe.” He hung up.

My heart fluttered at his last comment.

I went to my room and quickly put on something sort of presentable. The star of my outfit was none other then a small denim miniskirt.

The drive to Martin’s house was only about ten minutes, but it felt like an eternity. I was way more excited about spending time was Hamzah than I should’ve been.

Once I arrived at the apartment, I knocked on the door. I was greeted immediately by Hamzah. I couldn’t help but noticed as he looked me up and down once he’d opened the door, a small grin on his lips.

“Hey!” He said, pulling me into a hug. It surprised me a bit but Hamzah was always very affectionate with me, even as a friend. He’d play with strands of my hair on late nights after filming when we’d sit and talk about pretty much anything, and would always grab my hand when leading me places.

“Hi” I smiled into his shoulder right before he let go.

“I have everything get up in here.” Like clockwork, he took my hand and led me through Martin’s apartment. I looked around, seeing the scenes that had made appearances in many of Hamzah and Martin’s videos.

“So…” He sat down on the couch, motioning for me to sit to his right, “it’s going to real casual, just like it is with Martin. I might ask you a couple questions about your channel, if you want me to.”

I shrugged, “I’m fine with anything, just happy I could help you out.”

Hamzah smiled, handing me Martin’s microphone and looking at the camera. “Well, are you ready?”

I nodded, and he got up and began recording.

“You gotta just sit here for a second awkwardly while the intro music plays.”

A few seconds went by as we tried not to laugh at the silence. I couldn’t help but notice how his eyes flicked down to my thighs, exposed by my mini skirt, every few seconds.

“Hey guys, today I’m here with someone who is not Martin.”

Hamzah motioned to me. I lifted my hand and gave the camera small wave.

“Hi there, I’m y/n.”

“Martin decided to skip recording today to go roller skating with Mandy.”

I giggled, “Well, I think they sort of trapped you into recording without them so you wouldn’t third wheel them for once.”

Hamzah rolled his eyes. We went on and on, talking about how much better I am at rolling skating than Hamzah is, how ice skating isn’t real and it’s all just an illusion because neither of us can even stand up on the ice, and after about 40 minutes, somehow the topic of none other than Ice Spice.

“Munch is an absolute banger, but I’ve never met a dude that actually enjoyed eating it.”

Hamzah furrowed his eyebrows, “Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” I went on, “like most of them do it but they don’t like it, which makes it awkward. Like I’m yet to meet a dude that actually gets pleasure out of it too.”

There was a slight pause in the conversation, and I was scared I had made him uncomfortable.

“You’re talking to one right now.”

My cheeks flushed as his comment sunk it. I couldn’t respond, no words would come out of my mouth.

“Sorry,” he looked at me worried, “I totally just made it awkward.”

“Nah,” I shook my head, desperately. My heart thumped as I looked back at him. Maybe I wasn’t delusional about our obvious connection. Why in the world would he make a comment like that if he didn’t mean it in a flirty manner? “it’s okay, really.”

I couldn’t get the thought out of my head. Hamzah’s mouth on my heat, suckling on it like it was his last meal, rubbing my clit with his thumb. I bit my lip. The way he was looking at me showed that he was possibly imagining it too.

He shifted on the couch, looking at me desperately.

“I could show you, if you want.”

I nodded dumbly.

“Please.”

Hamzah leaned in, slowly pressing his lips onto mine. He slowly worked his mouth on mine, growing more and more passionate.

His mouth moved down my body, trailing down my neck. He paused, slipping my shirt and skirt off my body and taking a moment to stare at my breasts.

“God, you’re so beautiful, you know that?” Butterflies fluttered in my stomach. “I was so distracted, I couldn’t stop staring at you.”

He rubbed my thighs, looking down at them. It’s like he was mesmerized. “These thighs are so pretty. I couldn’t stop imagining them spread for me.”

Hamzah’s boldness surprised me, but I couldn’t say that I didn’t enjoy his praises. No matter how lewd they were.

“Can I take these off?” He curled his index finger into the band of my panties.

“Yes” I breathed out, shyly.

Hamzah chuckled to himself, “You’re so cute.”

He pulled my panties off of me, spreading my legs and looking down at my aching heat. Leaning down, he slowly kissed my core. I whimpered at the feeling.

“Tell me you want it.”

I bit my lip, looking down at him with pleading eyes. “I want it. I want it so fucking bad, Hamzah.”

Without further discussion, he dove down into my aching heat, swirling his tounge through the folds. I took his hat of his head with shaky hands and ran my fingers through his curls.

He looked up at me for a moment.

“Do you feel good?” He said quickly, wasting no time to get back to his meal.

“Yes! Yes! So good.” I moaned, my legs involuntarily closing in on his head. His hands held them back in place, spread wide for him to have the fullest access.

“You taste so damn good.” He groaned out. It was entertaining, watching how much he genuinely enjoyed this. He moved his mouth like it was his last meal. I’d never felt this much pleasure just from being eaten out, and it was so sweet.

My brain felt all fuzzy from the way his tounge worked through the folds of my heat perfectly, finding all of the sensitive places and causing my legs to shake under his hold.

“Fuck- I’m gonna cum.” I threw my head back, pure pleasure filling my head as I let out breathy moans.

“Go ahead, cum for me. Cum in my mouth, baby.”

I let myself release on his tounge, my body writhing against his working mouth.

After a few seconds, he pulled away, looking up at me with hopeful eyes, almost like he’d expected me to have had a bad experience.

I didn’t. I had the complete opposite; I couldn’t stop thinking about Hamzah’s tounge.

“Fucking wow.” Is all I could manage to get out.

“Was it good?” He asked.

“More than good. That was… can I please return the favor?”

Hamzah was quick to shake his head, “You really don’t have to. I know most girls don’t like to, and I don’t expect anything in return.”

I genuinely couldn’t let myself live knowing that I didn’t repay Hamzah back after he had me seeing stars.

“No, please, I really want to.”

I couldn’t lie, I’d imagined Hamzah’s cock plenty of times. I’d wondered how big it was, what it looked like, how it would feel in my mouth, what he was like in bed, pretty much everything. But now that I might finally get it, I felt more giddy than ever.

Hamzah slowly nodded, “Alright, go ahead.”

I reached down to his jeans, unbuttoning them as he helped me pull them off his legs, followed by his boxers. His member slapped his stomach, and it surprised me just how hard he was solely from eating out.

It was… big to say the least.

I slowly bottomed him out in my mouth, gagging slightly. He groaned, keeping his eyes on me. I bobbed my head, feeling him hit the back of my throat over and over again.

“Fuck, y/n, just like that.”

I continued these motions, occasionally pulling him out of my mouth and leaving small kitten licks on the tip. He was fighting the urge to throw his head back into the sofa, continuing to keep his eyes glued to me. He breathed out shaky praises to me.

“You’re so good at this, fuck. I- I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum in my mouth… please.” I begged, sucking his faster.

He moaned before filling my mouth with his loud. I swallowed it all before taking him out of my mouth, looking up at him shyly.

“Fuck… that was amazing.”

I giggled as we looked at each other for a few moments. It was crazy, the very things I’d been fantasizing about coming true, all because of a podcast episode.

Fuck. A podcast episode.

My eyes darted over to the recording camera, my cheeks flushing. Hamzah was still looking at me, almost in a hypnotic state.

“Hamzah…” I tried to grab his attention, he hummed in response. “The camera…”

His eyes widened as he looked over, coming to the same realization that I had.

“Fuck- sorry.” He got up, pulling his boxers on and walking over to the camera. “I’m deleting all the footage. You can check afterwards if you want. Recording us really wasn’t my intention.”

He was panicking, his fingers fumbling with the cameras buttons.

“Hamzah… relax. It’s okay. You- nevermind.”

Hamzah looks over to me, his eyebrows raised in amusement. “I what?”

“You can keep the recording if you want.” It felt so lewd to say, but I meant it. It was sort of hot, knowing he had that footage of us and could watch it anytime.

He smirked, looking down at the camera and nodding. “Alright… I will.”

I blushed, “Now can we get that food that you promised me?”

Hamzah chuckled, grabbing his phone.

It was strange, a couple of seconds ago we were performing such lewd acts for a camera we’d forgot was recording, and now we were arguing about whether we should get chinese or mexican take out.

[gingernut1314]

Just Trying To Sleep

Summary: You never seem to like sleep but with Luffy there, sleep isn't so scary.

Content: gender-neutral reader, Luffy being a love bug as usual, set on the Thousand Sunny, Sanji mentioned

Word Count: 880+

A/N: Cause I will never and can never get enough of love bug Luffy like he's too good SOB like can I just get one hug from him? Please? I hope you all enjoy!

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The deck of the Thousand Sunny was quiet. 

A rare occasion when the crew you belong a part of was as rowdy and chaotic as they came. 

Night had fallen on this part of the Grand Line, and though your crew members were not quiet sleepers, their rooms lay on the other side of the Sunny, leaving you in the silence of night. Silence only broken up by the dark waters below lapping at the hull of the ship. 

You’d been a part of Luffy’s crew for a long while now. They were your family. Your comfort but nights never ceased in being a battle for you. 

You were used to it. It was a battle you had waged since you were little. Though now you had company here and there, joining Robin in her own sleepless nights in the library. Tonight, though, she had found sleep it seemed. 

You were happy for her. Very much so but…it left you alone in your discomfort.

You hugged your knees a bit tighter from where you sat at the stern of the ship, peeking out at the sea through the white rungs of the railing. 

Your eyes burned in exhaustion, body feeling all too heavy.

All you wanted was to sleep, but every time you closed your eyes, shadows came to haunt you. 

So you kept them trained on the sea. On the moonlight shimmering over it’s waves and the occasional sea creature poking its head upward. 

Waves lapped at the hull. 

The ship rocked like a mother would her child’s crib.

Your eyes blurred. 

Eyelids dipped and rose. Dipped and rose. Dipped--

Something landed beside you, startling you from your wearily found sleep. Something that giggled impishly at you. 

“Whatcha doin’?” The warm sound of your captain's voice filled your ears. You rolled your head to the side, letting your cheek rest on your knees as you gazed up at Luffy. He grinned widely down at you, eyes trained on you and you alone. 

“Just trying to sleep.” You murmured. “What are you doing?” Luffy was quick to kneel beside you, leaning in so close his nose was brushing against yours. You couldn’t help the small tug your lips gave at his closeness. 

“Got hungry.” The quietness of his voice wasn’t all too quiet. Maybe two notches turned down from its typical volume. You didn’t mind. It kept your brain full and occupied and away from the shadows plaguing you. 

“Oh? And did you wake Sanji up for a snack?” Luffy’s eyes glanced away from you, lips puckering tightly. 

“...yes.” You couldn’t help but laugh at his truly horrible lying skills. It was adorable. 

“Sanji’ll kill you, you know,” Luffy whined, fingers grabbing hold of the sleeve of your pjs and giving it a small tug. 

“But he’s so grumpy when he wakes up.” You gave a small huff in agreement. Sanji was a monster if woken by someone other than the sun or an alarm. Many who tried received a swift kick to the head.

“We can say it was both of us. Maybe he’ll go easy on you then.” You said in amusement. Luffy huffed, all but smacking his forehead into yours, the motion knocking his straw hat from his head. 

“Okay.” He groaned pitifully, big old puppy dog eyes gazing straight into yours. 

You smiled, letting one of your arms slip from around your legs to snake its way around Luffy. Your captain was quick to scoot closer, face moving from your forehead to bury itself in the crook between your knees and chest. His own arms wrapped around you, pressing you tightly against him.

Your eyes began their tedious dip and rise all over again as Luffy’s warmth seeped through you to the very bone. You moved sluggishly to rest your cheek against his head, wild black hair tickling at your skin.

Dip and rise. Dip and rise. Dip--

“...are you okay?” Luffy’s voice had you lulling your eyes open once more, lips pulling into a sad little frown.

“I’m…I just don’t like to sleep I guess.” You responded, fingertips pressing into Luffy’s warm skin. “Being alone like that…scares me.” Luffy snuggled deeper into you. Held you just a bit tighter. 

“I don’t want you to be scared.” You nodded into his hair. 

“Me too.” His hands began to make soothing circles into your back. Circles that made the heaviness of your eyes and body feel unbearable to keep at bay.

“Can I help?” You nodded again.

“Stay with me? Till morning? Please?” As soon as the last words left your mouth, Luffy was plopping to sit down. His strong but gentle arms moved you around so that your side was pressed against his chest. Legs and arms wrapped around you, keeping you curled up in his warmth and musky scent. 

Keeping you safe. 

Your eyes burned in something other than your exhaustion. 

You grabbed hold of one of his hands he had stretched to allow the hold. Held it like a lifeline as sleep called to you once more. 

“I love you.” You whispered to your captain, who responded with a firm yet tender kiss on the top of your head. 

“I love you too.” He beamed, giving you a few more kisses before nuzzling his face down to rest next to yours.

More Like This: Demons and Claws {Zoro x gn!reader} ⋆ Couldn't Sleep? {Robin x gn!reader} ⋆ How Can I Be Of Service? {Sanji x gn!reader} ⋆ Feeling Generous {Nami x gn!reader} ⋆ Nightmares {Usopp x gn!reader}

[delaware-lemme-smash]

Ooh, excellent question! Poor Hawks, he can't catch a break, can he?

Characters: Takami Keigo/Hawks

Contents: fake dating, angst

Takami Keigo/Hawks

This is absolutely the kind of stunt the Commission would try to pull. Hawks, like most high-ranking Pro Heroes will have a publicist and chances are high for that person either working for the Commission directly or the PR agency being a third-party contractor of the Commission. Once they have their hooks in you, they do not let you go. 

For whatever reason, they decide their top Pro needs to be seen to be dating another Pro Hero. Maybe the other Pro has tanking ratings or it’s part of some deeper game. Whatever it is, Hawks doesn’t have much choice but to go along with it.

Another factor is whether or not the Commission knows you’re in a relationship with Hawks. He might have no choice to tell them, but I feel that if there was an opportunity to keep you a secret from them, he would. He doesn’t want them to have control over your life as well as his. And I’m sure he’d want to have a piece of his life that’s just for him, not for the Commission’s goals or the public’s consumption. 

It causes him no small amount of angst, having to sit you down and explain to you what they’re going to make him do. He dreads having to tell you, having to see the look on your face when you hear that he’ll be posing as some other person’s boyfriend. It’s hard enough, having to share him with the Commission and his endless work and his ravenous fans. Now you have to watch him post couple pics on Instagram with someone else. Or go on cute little dates where the paparazzi just so happen to stumble across the two heroes enjoying totally not sponsored smoothies. 

It’s maddening, to say the least. Hawks hates every second of it. 

While he’s not rude or hostile to the person he’s fake-dating, he’s not his usual lively, flirtatious self, because he knows every minute he spends with them is affecting you. His very little free time is being eaten up by this media-pandering bullshit, and he hates it.

There are a few ways he can go about making things easier. 

One, he’ll never take fake-girlfriend anywhere that he takes you. Your favourite little haunts and hangouts will never be tarnished by a photoshoot that ends up splashed across the front of Hero Weekly. 

Two, he’s honest with the fake-girlfriend. She has to know this is just a business arrangement, a contractual obligation. He already has a partner, and he’ll only be doing the bare minimum to make it look real for the cameras.

Three, he’ll set a deadline on it with the Commission. He can swing it by saying that all this prancing around for the cameras is affecting his performance. How’s he supposed to fight villains if he has to spend all his time doing photoshoots with Ultragleam or Mochigirl, or whoever they want to set him up with this week. 

Four, he can try and introduce the fake-girlfriend to you, so there’s no weird feeling of sneaking around. So you can set your own boundaries on what you are and aren’t comfortable with.

Despite all this? It’s still gonna suck.

There’s no way it doesn’t hurt to see your boyfriend posting cutesy photos with another hero. Fans will be gushing on social media, coming up with ship names, posting edits with sparkly effects and slow-mo reverb love songs playing over the top, filled with comments like “OMG THE WAY HE LOOKS AT HER!” 

The only way to make it bearable is to imagine he’s playing a character, like he’s the male lead in a romantic K-Drama, and fake-girlfriend is just his co-star. It’s true, in a way. Even if they’re attending events together and posting (staged) shots on the beach, holding hands, it’s all fake. 

When he comes home to you after a long day of patrolling, exhausted after an intense villain fight, and collapses facedown on the couch, head on your lap, wings askew, only to tiredly ask about your day and beg you to order chicken skewers? That’s real. 

[copilot-crashout]

Could i request some general fluff x reader relationship headcanons for curly, both pre and post crash/recovered? Just pre-crash is okay too if you’re not comfortable writing for him post crash :)

Pairing: Pre-crash Captain Curly x gn!reader ; Post-crash Curly x gn!reader

Content Warning: None! [except Jimmy... Does he need a warning? (ᐡ๐ ·̫ ๐)〣 ] Post-crash Curly is slightly angsty, I hope that's okay! ♡

[A/N]: I'm hoping for more requests soon! I like writing for you all! More importantly, I hope you enjoy reading! ( ⩌⩊⩌)✧ I truly hope my love for these characters shines through my writing...

(PRE-CRASH) CAPTAIN CURLY:

-> #1 wife guy. He'd go giddy if you got him a mug about how much he loves you (or anything of the sort). He would love to match with you. He'd have a pair of matching pyjamas at home and a set of matching keychains attached to his keys. Has a picture of you both from a date you went on before working on the Tulpar in his leather wallet. He keeps it on him at all times and stares at it when he feels especially bad.

-> Jimmy rolls his eyes and sinks back into his chair when he watches Curly look at the picture like a man who's been at war for a decade.

-> Anya can only giggle when she glances at the two of you in the kitchen before your shifts start, voices hushed as Curly presses a soft kiss to your forehead before the day starts.

-> Swansea grumbles whenever he sees you two getting overly affectionate, you leaning against Curly during a heated game night aboard the ship. His demeanor changes when he notices the familiar glimmer of adoration in Curly's eyes, reminding him of how he felt about his wife back on Earth. At least you two didn't have to deal with long-distance dating.

-> Daisuke hopes to have a relationship like yours! He playfully banters with Curly, asking how he pulled someone like you. Wants to hear everything about your relationship. Treats you two like his pseudo-parents, giving you a sneaky wink whenever he steals another sweetener packet, a shared promise not to tell Curly.

-> Much more affectionate in private. He still needs to play captain, after all. Professionalism is important in the workplace! He's the type to play soft music in the background while you both relax, holding each other under thin blankets as he places gentle kisses on any part of you he can reach, stubble tickling your skin. He loves to hold your hand in any way but enjoys more subtle touches (like locking pinkies together). When walking with you in the dim halls, he places a gentle hand on the small of your back to let you know he's there.

-> However, his idea of love causes him to be more reserved when it comes to his problems. He does trust you! He just doesn't want to sag you down with his issues. He's the Captain. He should be strong enough to handle his burdens. You'd have to comfort him and remind him that it's okay to talk it through. Your willingness to help him only makes his love deeper.

-> A huge sap for the cheesy and romantic. Surprise him with breakfast in bed, and he's pondering whether to marry you now or after he finishes eating. Dreams of your future together, too. A small family in a quaint, little home with friendly neighbours. Don't want kids? How about some pets to keep you company?

-> Loves to tease you. He wants to see you smile, especially because of him. Expect feather-light touches on your waist that make you shiver, followed by a deep chuckle at your reaction. He leaves his post early (relying on his co-pilot and Tulpar's autopilot system to pick up his slack) to visit you, ensuring you're "doing your tasks correctly." Not to see you jump at his voice or when he places his large hand on your shoulder. Not at all!

(POST-CRASH) CAPTAIN CURLY:

-> He's sorry. He's so, so, sorry.

-> Initially, the pain of his injuries causes him to cry. Eventually, the thoughts of you burn more than the searing pain that reminds him of his consciousness. He weeps as if he has truly lost you, for how could someone love a man so misguided?

-> If you ever visit him, he feels sick. How could you still want to see him after all this? He was a failure of a man, yet here you were with a kind smile as if nothing happened.

-> He'd love to hear your voice. It was more pleasant than the silence of the Medical Bay or from Jimmy's ramblings. How were the crew? How were you? He'd feel especially guilty if you talked about your relationship and what you hoped they could do before the crash. The date plans, the simple times spent together. He could dream of it, still.

-> Read him a story. It'll help him sleep easier. It reminds him of those nights when the two of you chatted about nothing, dozy and delirious off each other's presence, lulling yourselves into a comfortable sleep when Pony Express couldn't care enough to provide a good sleeping quarter.

-> His heart breaks at the sight of you dishevelled, tired of surviving on the Tulpar. He wished he had his hands back to gently trace the curves of your face and hold you close to him as you forgot about the world. He still tries to comfort you, a garbled noise here, or a small movement of his arm to try and show his support.

-> As he recovers back on Earth, he'd be ecstatic to have you by his side. Having you by his side was the quickest way for him to recover.

-> If he recovers his voice, the first thing he says is a quiet thank you and a simple "I love you." The apologies came later. He just needed to make sure you knew how lucky he was to have someone so perfect.

-> Likely during recovery, I'd imagine him needing some kind of service animal. It may not be the kids he was hoping for, but having you and a pet was something he only dreamt about while staring into the fake sunset.

-> He becomes much more open about his emotions. The pain of not being able to vocalise them is one he never wants to face again. Tender nights and open communication become commonplace in your relationship.

-> He's still the #1 wife guy, only cranked up to 1000. If you thought he was bad before, you haven't seen the man now. If he ever gets drunk, he sobs about how much he loves you to anyone in his vicinity. He could do it sober but doesn't want to embarrass you (too much). He takes the time to learn your favourite recipes, making them when he can and makes sure to compliment you at least once a day. He just wants you to love yourself the way he loves you!

-> Your time together is peaceful and he wouldn't want it any other way.