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choism · 1 year ago

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Jester's Game | b.tc

Captain Buggy x Pirate!afab!Reader

Genre: smut, angst, fluff (If you squint)

Summary: Trying to overtake Captain Buggy's ship leaves you asking questions, and surprisingly, getting answers

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: top!buggy, afab!reader, unprotected sex (pls dont), cunnilingus, fingering, creampie, squirting, rough sex, gentle sex (yeah wild), inappropriate use of detached limbs, spit as lube (also a no no), overstimulation, pet names (sweetheart, princess)

A/N: WOOHOO ITS MY FIRST NON KPOP FIC!! I knew I would write for other stuff eventually but I definitely did not expect it to be a recent hyperfixation. Buggy just has me bricked up okay! Anyway I hope y'all enjoy, don't forget to let me know what you thought of the fic in the tags !

It’s a rather unfortunate series of events, really. Sure, you could’ve told your navigator to sail away from the ship with the giant clown crossbones flag. Yeah, it might’ve helped if you had told your crew that they were about to fight some of the toughest pirates in the East Blue. But where’s the fun in that? As their captain, it’s your job to seek the adventure, and well, this was an adventure all right.

It started with you telling your men to approach, cannons firing, your crew hopping their ship, the infamous ship commandeered by none other Buggy The Clown. Yes, the ship your measly crew has decided to board. Listen, it was strategic! Buggy had somehow gotten the map to the grand line back, and your ship just so happened to be within the vicinity of his, so why not seek the opportunity to take it? Well that was your first mistake.

Now, you find yourself here, hands bound behind your back and kneeling with your crew in front of Buggy’s stupid, dumb throne in his stupid, dumb circus tent cabin.

“You all truly are fools for thinking you could take on my band of freaks,” Buggy lazily sprawls over his throne, seemingly unimpressed by your, in his words, ‘lackluster crew’.

“It’s funny actually, how pathetic it was, I mean even Mohji got in a few punches! Ha! Truly a fine show.” The man you assume being the Mohji that Buggy had just poked fun at, slumps his shoulders sadly at his jab. “Now, time to get to the good stuff…” Buggy trails off, standing up and taking a few strides in your direction, his dirty boots stopping directly in front of you. He detaches his hand and uses it to lift your head, pointing your chin up to look him in the eye.

Looking up, you spit and it lands on his cheek, he simply swipes it off with his attached, gloved hand. “So what if you defeated us, it doesn’t make you any better of a pirate, and doesn’t get you any closer to the One Piece.” You tilt your head and smirk. He may have overcome your crew, but he will never overcome your overwhelming ego and pride. It matches his just as equally.

“Ah, that's where you’re wrong, princess,” His grin is just as wide as yours, and briefly you’re confused, what could he mean? “Given your set of thieving skills, probably some of the best in the East Blue, I’ve heard, you’re gonna join my band of freaks, and I’m not giving you a choice sweetheart,” Buggy removes his hand from your chin, and it floats to his arm, re-attaching itself.

“Boys, throw their crew overboard, we have no use for them.” He rolls his eyes and sits back on his throne, “Oh! And go show them to their new quarters, make them feel at home.” Buggy laughs a deep boisterous laugh, one that genuinely sends shivers down your spine.

The pirates lead you into, what is actually, quite a nice room in the lower deck of the cabin, lit by a few candles, and a cot in the corner. Surprisingly, they cut you out of your ropes, and shut the door without locking it. What’s their deal? Don’t they know you can escape at any time if you wanted? Sneak out and steal one of their emergency boats, and sail to the nearest Island? Granted, you aren’t sure where the nearest Island is, you’re a thief, not a navigator.

Instead of worrying about escaping, you roam the small room, admiring your surroundings. The whole ship is clown themed, front he flags to the cabin to everything, but this room is different. Not a single sign of jester-like decorations anywhere. In fact, it’s as if this cabin was decorated specifically for you. Before you can think more of it, the door opens suddenly.

Buggy enters, and closes the door behind him. When he enters you’re sitting on the cot, legs crossed and unamused.

“Not thinking about escaping? Not that you could anyway, we are miles away from the nearest island, and realistically it would take you days to get there on one of our measly boats.” He rolls his eyes, as if annoyed by how small and fragile the boats are, before sitting backwards on the chair at the short desk next to the cot.

“So what do you even need a thief for? Why am I here?” You blurt, already growing impatient from the lack of information being given to you.

“I need you for many reasons, being a thief is only one of them, sweetheart.” Buggy grins and removes his hat, setting it on the desk. “You already have connections at the grand line, and while I know you need my map to get there, I know that you know the people I need to talk to, to gain safe entry without slaughtering half the fucking pirates there.” He leans back and relaxes a bit, observing your facial features.

“And why do you think any of the people I know would want to help you? You’re just some lowly pirate.” You spit at him, angered by his casualness. In what world would you even willingly help him? Who does he think he is?

“Ha…Me? A lowly pirate? This coming from the literal captain of a crew is hilarious! Tell me another joke, please.” He grins knowingly, he knows how to get a rise out of you for sure. You look over his facial expression, smugness overtakes his face and it makes your stomach twist, not with disgust though for some odd reason, with another feeling you don’t quite recognize.

This whole situation has you feeling all kinds of anxious. How did you just happen to raid the ship of a pirate who just happened to need you for this specific thing, and why is his presence making you feel so…weird? Something isn’t right here, and it can’t be because of your connections to the grand line. No, he’s hiding something.

“What are you hiding, clown? There’s something you aren’t telling me.”

His face drops, and he gets suddenly very serious, “Listen here, princess,” Buggy gets up from the chair and gets close to you, leaning down, your noses almost touching. “You’re gonna get me to the grand line, I don’t care if I have to torture it out of you, got it? No more questions tonight.” He gets up and suddenly grins very brightly, as if nothing ever happened. “Night night!” Buggy walks out and slams the door, then you hear a locking sound.

Fuck, he locked you in your room. You should’ve expected this, honestly. The way he reacted to your question was so strange. You knew there was something fishy, but you didn’t think whatever it was could’ve prompted that kind of reaction out of him.

***

The next day you wake up to yelling outside of your cramped room. Yawning, you get up and put your ear to the door,

“I’m sorry Captain Buggy! I didn’t know that was their ship I swear I promise!”

You hear what sounds like a kick to the jaw and a yelp,

“Didn’t know? Didn’t know?! You couldn’t tell by the giant crossbones flag that very obviously bares their symbol? I’m tired of you, someone go throw him off the deck.”

You hear screams and pleads of “No please!” and “I didn’t know I’m sorry captain!” before hearing water splash, then silence, then- oh shit footsteps coming towards your room. You scramble back to your cot and lay down, pretending to sleep. You hear a couple of knocks before hearing a feint “What the fuck am I doing, I go where I want!” Before Buggy barges into the room after unlocking it.

“Get up, I know you heard everything.” He spits gruffly, sitting back in the chair again the same way as yesterday. You sit up abruptly. Last night you couldn’t shake this feeling, of what you felt when Buggy had gotten so serious, and it’s just gotten worse being in his presence. Your abdomen feels hot, your ears feel hot, everything feels hot. It’s like butterflies in your stomach if the butterflies were armed with knives.

“Yes, I did hear, what do you mean by my symbol? I thought bumping into you was a coincidence?” Buggy smiles faintly, and chuckles.

“Yes, it was, I wasn’t informed of what ship we attacked, just that my men captured you all, oh but when I saw you…I knew.” Buggy stands up and motions for you to do the same, getting so close to you, your chests almost touch. He brings his hand to your arm, caressing down the length before gripping your wrist harshly, causing you to wince. “Do you….” he trails off, “Do you really not remember me?” He brings his eyes from your arm to your face, making direct eye contact.

You struggle to find words, what does he mean, remember? Yeah, he gives you a strange feeling everytime you're near him, but you’ve never met this man in your entire life. You think. Honestly you can’t remember anything before the age of seventeen.

“I– no, no I don’t…”

His smile fades, and he lets go of you, “I thought you would remember once you saw me, we were on Gold Roger’s crew together years ago, but you went missing after a particularly tough battle.” He pauses, thinking carefully about what to say next, “You– We– We were close, and I was devastated, I thought you were dead.” He’s being surprisingly vulnerable right now, and it’s kind of scaring you.

“I don’t really remember anything before I turned seventeen, All I know is one day I woke up on an island, a group of pirates took me in, I left, and I’ve been on my own since. The only reason I am where I am today is because I wanted to find who I was, and I figured I could find that out at the grand line.” You feel overwhelmingly sad. Why are you sad? You don’t even know him.

There’s a long silence between the two of you, it’s uncomfortable, tight, and makes you want to leave, until he says, “Let me show you.” He says abruptly, and you think you see a blush across his face.

“Sorry, I mean, please,” Buggy steps into your space again, this time his eyes flit between your lips and your eyes, back to your lips. “I’m sorry we couldn’t find you, I’m sorry you had to go through that, I missed you so much y/n” That was the first time he’s said your name this entire time, but it’s not one you recognize.

“Is that my name?” Your lip quivers, he’s so close now, your lips are inches apart.

“Yes it is, y/n, sweetheart, princess, I’ll call you whatever you want, just let me show you.” The thick air has disappeared and is now replaced with tension. Something deeper, heavier, fills the room. But it’s not a bad thing.

“Let me show you who you were to me.”

You let his face drop to yours, and your lips finally connect.

The kiss is slow, languid. It’s like his lips were meant to connect with yours. Buggy wraps his arms around your waist. Pulling you in closer, and kissing you deeper. His tongue slips into your mouth, and you let him kiss you as deep as he wants. The pace quickens and he slots his leg in between yours, rubbing against your pants and providing much needed friction.

You moan into his touch and he walks the both of you backwards until the back of your knees reach the bed. He lowers you onto it and hovers above you, kissing you again before departing. “Is this okay?” Buggy asks, brushes his hands underneath the bottom of your shirt, slowly lifting it.

“Only if you return the favor.” He chuckles and lowers his head to your neck, sucking and biting gently while riding up your shirt until your chest is exposed. You sit up briefly to take off your shirt and as promised, he does the same. He isn’t overly ripped like most pirates are, but he’s still well toned. His muscles flex as he shifts lower, kissing down your chest, down your stomach and stopping just above the navel.

“When I saw you were the one my men captured, it took my breath away,” He lifts your hips so he can remove your pants and undergarments, “I was scared, anxious, I didn’t know what to do, so I pretended I knew you for your skills, not for your past.” After removing everything, he pushes back, kissing your thighs before sitting up, taking his gloves off with his teeth and throwing them to the side. Man that was hot.

Buggy detaches one of his hands and lets it roam up your torso, reaches your neck and gives it a gentle squeeze. Before leading his fingers over your mouth, asking for entry. You grant it and his index and middle finger slip into your mouth, swirling your saliva around and coating them generously. “When you suspected I knew more, I didn’t know what to do. When you boarded I just knew you by name, not face, there was no way I could’ve expected this.”

He removes his hand from your mouth and moves it down to your center, rubbing through your folds gently and inserting two fingers, scissoring you open and prepping you for what's to come. Buggy uses his still detached hand to remove his own trousers, his cock springing free from its confines. He strokes it slowly, clearly getting off to his detached hand fingering you open.

“Buggy…” You moan, you can’t even reply or form a sentence, the pleasure too good.

“Shhh just relax sweetheart, I’ll take care of you.” He brings his hand away from your now dripping cunt, reattaching it and leaning down. You feel his breathe over your core, he kisses your clit before taking it in his mouth, lapping up your taste and fucking you onto his tongue. You can feel your orgasm approaching quickly as he flits between sucking on your clit and tonguing inside of you, but he pulls away.

“Fuck! Why’d you–”

You’re interrupted by his cock entering you and your legs being lifted by his hands so he can enter as deep as possible. You don’t think you’ve ever felt so full before. His cock fits so nice and feels so good and he hasn’t even moved yet.

“Fuck you’re so tight and wet for me, so fucking good huh? Letting me fuck you like this.” His pupils are so blown out, he watches his own cock pull out and start to thrust into you, it just fuels your arousal further. Buggy starts out slow, just getting you used to his size before he picks up the pace, fucking into you even deeper and faster.

“Shit, gonna cum Buggy please.” He moves your legs to prop onto his shoulders and he grabs onto your waist, pushing down and holding you in place as he fucks into you roughly.

“Gonna cum for me? Go ahead sweetheart. Cum all over my cock.” He moves his hand over your abdomen and presses down, the pressure making you feel dizzy. You feel white hot, the band finally snapping as you come. “Fuck, gonna cum soon too, gonna fill you up so good.”

Buggy relentlessly fucks into your cunt, overstimulating you and causing a pressure to build that’s unfamiliar. “Wait Buggy I, fuck I feel weird it feels good.” Soon, with a loud cry you feel a wetness rush between your legs, causing you to let out a loud string of moans and curses.

“Squirting for me already? God you’re full of surprises. Shit, I’m coming.” A few more snaps of his hips and you feel his hot cum fill you up, as promised. It feels so good. He slows down and pulls out, his load leaking out of you and onto the sheets below. “So good for me.” He whispers, leaning down and kissing you gently. He cleans the both of you up quickly and gets dressed, ready to go back to his quarters for the night.

“Wait Buggy, before you go…” You trail off and he turns around, listening intently. “If you don’t mind, can you tell me more about my- about our, past? I need to know where I came from, what happened.” Buggy smiles gently, walking up and kissing you on the forehead.

“Of course princess, later”

#buggy smut #buggy x reader #buggy the clown smut #buggy the clown x reader #opla smut #opla x reader #op smut #op x reader #one piece smut #one piece x reader #buggy one piece #buggy #buggy the clown

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alwaysmicado · 10 months ago

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we shouldn’t

2.9k | fwb!Joel Miller x f!reader | one-shot

Warnings: 18+, no outbreak AU, alcohol, smut (but nothing too graphic), smooching, reader being a menace, fluff & the tiniest bit of angst Summary: Joel holds your hand after a night out. It makes you feel things you don’t want to feel. A/N: This little one-shot was very emotional for me to write, and I hope it’ll make you feel something, too. Can be read alone or as a prequel to part 1 within the fwb!Joel AU. Enjoy and let me know what you think! I love talking to you about these two! 🖤 series masterlist

“If I don’t catch you before the light, I’ll do that little dance you like so much.”

“Naked?” you ask with wide eyes.

He chuckles at your enthusiasm. “Yeah, na–”

Before he can finish his sentence, you’re running—clumsily, but fueled by an eagerness that outshines the haze of your drunkenness.

“–ked.”

– – –

The neon lights of the city blur into a kaleidoscope as Joel and you stroll down the crowded streets, the remnants of laughter and clinking glasses still echoing in your ears from the bar you just left. It’s a beautiful night—alive with a buzz, a mix of the city’s energy and the warmth that comes from a few too many drinks.

You’re giggling uncontrollably at something Joel said, your hands clasped over your belly as your sides hurt from laughing. You don’t even remember what he said that was so funny, but that doesn’t matter.

You’re having fun—as always when you’re with him.

Joel glances over at you with a lopsided grin, his eyes slightly glazed but still sparkling with mischief.

“You’re such a lightweight, darlin’,” he says, his words laced with genuine amusement. He chuckles as you continue to giggle, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “No more Long Island Iced Teas for you.”

You playfully roll your eyes, trying to catch your breath, and delicately wiping away the happy tears spilling over.

“Oh, come on,” you quip, turning to him with an infectious grin. “Could a lightweight do this?”

Determined to prove him wrong, you theatrically hold out your arms and set one foot gracefully in front of the other, your pretend sobriety test turning into a whimsical dance along an invisible line on the floor.

“See?” you say excitedly—and perhaps a tad too loudly—before your own enthusiasm sends you stumbling over your own feet. Lucky for you, Joel’s reflexes kick in, and he effortlessly catches you before you can faceplant and hurt yourself.

“Easy there, baby,” he teases with a grin, his strong arms steadying you before pulling you into a tight embrace. “You’re just having too much fun tonight, huh?”

“S’not fair,” you slur against his chest, giggles bubbling up from deep inside you. “The world is spinning.”

Joel looks at you, amusement twinkling in his eyes. “That’s not–” he begins but stops himself, chuckling. “Well, actually, yes, you’re right. The world is spinning, baby.” He presses a soft kiss against your temple. “I got you though.”

Giggles subside into a contented sigh as you rest against Joel’s broad chest, the fleeting touch of his fingers brushing against your back.

“Thank you,” you murmur, taking in his warmth and his scent. “Mmm, you smell nice. How do you always smell so nice?”

Lifting your head, you gaze into his eyes with honest bewilderment and curiosity, your brow furrowed, as if this is the most perplexing mystery that needs unraveling.

“Reminds me of when we met. My clothes smelled like you when I got home that night.”

Joel’s eyes crinkle at the corners as he looks at you with a genuine sense of adoration, his heart warmed by the sincerity and carefree spirit that your drunken honesty radiates.

He’s obviously not going to tell you that he’s made sure to only ever use the aftershave you complimented him on the first night you spent together, but he’s secretly delighting in the fact that you still like it.

“Well, aren’t you sweet, darlin’,” he coos, an amused smile gracing his lips. “You were such a brat not even twenty minutes ago and now look at you. Tame as a little kitten.”

“No idea what you’re talking about.” You bite your lip and put your hands on his chest, your pupils so dilated your eyes are black.

You can still feel his fingers inside you.

Joel runs his hands up and down your back, a sensation that makes your knees weak. He bores his eyes into you and raises an eyebrow.

“I’m talking about you acting like a whore in that bar just so I’d make you come on my fingers.” His hands wander down to your ass, groping you, pulling you closer against his body. “You knew I’d fuck you when we got to your place, but you just couldn’t wait, huh?”

“Hmm, you love it,” you chuckle, pressing a soft kiss on his warm lips. “Don’t act like you’re not a total perv yourself. ‘Cause, you know, you are, and that’s why you just fingered me in a crowded bar. And that’s why you almost came in your pants. And that’s also why we get along so well.”

Joel grins at you, savoring the lingering sensation of your lips on his. “Touché, you little smartass.”

Your eyes drop to his mustache, perched proudly on his top lip. He’s shaved off the rest of his facial hair, and tonight’s the first time you’ve seen him like this. It suits him.

“You see something you like, baby?”

“I love your mustache. It’ so fucking hot,” you murmur, mesmerized, gently touching the little hairs above Joel’s lip with your fingertips. “Makes you look like an ‘80s pornstar.”

“You’re into that?” he chuckles, noting the particular fixation your inebriated brain has chosen this time—last time, it was the curve of his nose. You’re adorable.

“Fuck yeah. The only thing missing are assless chaps and a tight mesh shirt.” You wrap your arms around him and look into his beautiful brown eyes.

“Mmm, you never cease to surprise me, darlin’,” he murmurs against the shell of your ear before nibbling on your earlobe. “I didn’t realize you were such a fan of my ass.”

You giggle and squeeze his cheeks to make a point, pulling away a bit to lock your lidded eyes on his. “Oh, you have no idea. I’ll tie you to your bed next time and show you if you want. Fair warning, though, I won’t be gentle.”

Joel’s eyes widen, his erection straining against the harsh fabric of his jeans.

“Careful, darlin’,” he growls into your ear, “if you can’t behave yourself, I’ll have to put you in your place. And I promise you, I won’t be gentle either.”

You can’t suppress the little moan that escapes your lips as Joel’s words go straight to your pussy. His scent, his deep voice, his broad body against yours, his dark eyes—it all has you melting in his arms, craving his touch. Badly.

“Can we go, please?” you plead, your tone carrying the unmistakable hint of neediness Joel loves to hear so much.

“You’re insatiable, you know that?” he murmurs, his hands finding your waist, pulling you against his groin with a possessive grip.

You playfully roll your eyes and let out a dramatic sigh. “Yeah, yeah, and I’m a bad, bad girl that needs to be punished—yada yada yada. Can we go now? Please?”

You pull away from his embrace with a cheeky smile and start tugging on his arm, urging him to move. Joel snorts at your impatience, thoroughly entertained by the frustrated little noises you make when he doesn’t budge.

One eyebrow raised and hands on your hips, you glare at him defiantly. You’re swaying a little now that he’s not holding you anymore.

“I’ll fucking run home and get myself off if you don’t get your ass in gear right now.”

“You still haven’t grasped the concept of asking nicely, huh? And after all this time I’ve tried to teach you,” he chuckles, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood and can’t wait to fill up that pretty little pussy of yours.”

He tilts your chin up with his thumb and index finger to search your eyes. To his satisfaction, he finds pure hunger in them. Your brain has completely shut off any and all functions except for imagining Joel taking you roughly in your bed. Or on your sofa. Or on the floor.

“Tell you what, you brat. You get a ten-second head start, and if I catch you before you reach that traffic light over there, you’re not allowed to touch me once you’re naked.”

“And if you don’t catch me?”

Joel needs to hold back his laugh at the ridiculous idea that you’d be faster than him.

“If I don’t catch you before the light, I’ll do that little dance you like so much.”

“Naked?” you ask with wide eyes.

He chuckles at your enthusiasm. “Yeah, na–”

Before he can finish his sentence, you’re running—clumsily, but fueled by a determination that outshines the haze of your drunkenness.

“–ked.”

The night air that envelops you is alive with laughter and the distant hum of the city as you stumble towards the traffic light, your unsteady steps dictated by the alcohol coursing through your veins. Your brain can’t decide between giggling and breathing, so you’re left with a side stitch and gasping for air after a few short seconds.

At least you had enough foresight to choose comfort over sexiness when you put on your sneakers tonight instead of your heels.

Joel’s eyes track you, captivated by the rhythmic sway of your legs beneath the hem of the short dress you’re wearing. Oh, how he can’t wait to feel your naked skin pressed against his. You’re always so soft, so warm, so receptive to his touch…

He snaps out of it, realizing the very real potential for a clumsy misstep, and joins the chase. His steps are more purposeful, not wanting you to trip and hurt yourself, especially not on his watch.

A few meters shy of the traffic light, he catches up, arms wrapping around you from behind. You squeal in surprise, a mixture of laughter and exhilaration bubbling up from deep inside you. Joel joins in, his laughter harmonizing with yours, as he triumphantly murmurs, “Got you” in your ear.

He sets you down gently and pulls you close as your heart is still racing, and presses his lips on yours in a deep, lingering kiss.

“Not fair,” you mumble against his lips with a pout. “And I don’t wanna live in a world where you don’t dance for me.”

Joel sighs deeply, succumbing to the irresistible charm of your big puppy eyes.

“How about this, baby. You’re good and do what I say without talking back, and I’ll dance for you until you’re dizzy. Hm?”

“Okay, sounds fair,” you murmur, wanting nothing more than to get home quickly and rip his clothes off. Riling him up in the bar and coming all over his fingers was nice, but you’ve had far from enough.

“Good girl.”

As the traffic light shifts to green, Joel’s hand instinctively finds yours, not wanting to let you stumble across the street without him holding you. You don’t think too much about it, assuming he’ll let go once you’re on the other side.

Surprisingly, though, his grip persists, and he intertwines his fingers with yours.

It’s a gesture so simple, yet it simultaneously sobers you up and sends a ripple through the carefully constructed walls you’ve built around your emotions. Confusion colors your eyes as you steal a glance at him, and he meets your eyes with a warmth that makes your heart skip a beat.

You don’t like it.

This isn’t the casual arm around the shoulder or the hand on your hip. This feels like…more. Like something you’d only do in a relationship. Joel’s touch is warm and electric, and an unsettling realization dawns—the casual arrangement you’ve shared with him suddenly seems more complicated.

Oh, no. No, no, no.

“What are you doing?” you ask, feigning nonchalance, although your heart is doing somersaults.

“What do you mean?” Joel smirks, giving your hand a playful squeeze. “Just trying to keep you from stumbling into the bushes, baby. I’m a gentleman, you know.”

You scoff and roll your eyes, but the butterflies in your stomach tell a different story. The truth is, you’ve been here before—caught in the crossroads of friendship and something more. It’s a delicate balance, and one you don’t want to upset.

Joel’s the best thing that has happened to you in a long time, and you don’t want to lose what you have. But you also care for him enough that you’d let him go if your arrangement didn’t make him happy anymore.

As you finally reach your apartment building, a nervous flutter sets your heart pounding in your chest. You clear your throat and subtly allow your fingers to slip away from Joel’s, feigning the need for both hands as you rummage through your purse in search of your key.

You follow Joel inside, deliberately averting your gaze, your eyes fixed on the glowing buttons as you summon the elevator. As you step inside the confined space, a wave of memories floods your mind, recalling the last time you’ve given in to your desires when the brief elevator ride felt too long to resist.

Joel knelt in front of you, skillfully drawing an orgasm out of you with his tongue while your fingers were tangled in his dark curls. Once he had his fill, he proceeded to throw you over his shoulder and fuck you in front of your living room mirror. You’ll never forget how he forced you to look at yourself with his hand wrapped around your neck.

You’re abruptly pulled back to the present as you feel Joel’s hand finding yours once again, trying to reassure you that he’s here if you need him. You look at him with a conflicted expression, torn between appreciating his caring gesture and the fear of disappointing him.

As you shuffle to your apartment door, Joel finally breaks the silence, his voice low and soothing, “Are you alright, darlin’? Do you feel sick?” His eyes search your face, concern evident in his furrowed brow.

“Nah, just a bit tipsy,” you reply automatically, your tone light as you lean against the wall.

However, when he starts tracing gentle circles on the back of your hand with his thumb, you’re unable to suppress the growing unease any longer. Tightness settles in your chest, accompanied by a fluttering sensation that dances beneath your ribcage.

“It’s just…I, uh,” you murmur, “I didn’t expect you to hold my hand is all.”

“Oh.” Joel’s gaze softens, and he releases your hand, the connection severed. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, darlin’. I should’ve asked if you were okay with it, I’m sorry.”

You shake your head vehemently. “No, no, it’s not that I didn’t like it. It’s just...it felt–” you cut yourself off and sigh deeply, turning around to open your apartment door. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Joel nods, a thoughtful expression on his face. “I understand, darlin’. Thank you for telling me.”

“I’m sorry,” you switch on the light in your living room and throw your purse onto your sofa. “I know it’s weird, but I really…we–we shouldn’t and I…I can’t–”

“Darlin’, hey,” he steps inside and closes the door behind him. “There’s no need for you to apologize, or explain for that matter.”

You turn around and take him in for a moment. His warm eyes, his soft smile, the cute little movements his hand makes when he’s nervous—he’s just so…sweet. You’re not used to a guy being so considerate of your boundaries, and it’s incredibly hard for you to believe that he actually means it and won’t use them against you once he’s tired of you.

You know it’ll happen at some point, but you’re okay with that. This isn’t meant to last.

“Do you, uh, still wanna stay for a nightcap?” you ask him with a hopeful smile.

“Of course I do, darlin’,” he says, tilting his head and looking at you curiously.

You open your arms, silently inviting him to draw you into a comforting embrace. You’re relieved when his response is immediate and eager.

“We’re on the same page, right?” he asks, a genuine smile on his lips as his dark eyes search yours. “We have fun, and I like spending time with you, but I want you to feel comfortable, too. If this,” he gestures between the two of you, “ever becomes more than you’re comfortable with, we talk about it. No pressure, no expectations. Just us, enjoying each other’s company.”

He pulls back slightly to gauge your reaction, his hand still gently resting on your waist.

“Sounds perfect, Joel,” you coo in response, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Now, would you please shut up and kiss me already.”

“Alright, alright, you brat,” Joel chuckles and cups your cheek with his warm hand, before leaning in and sealing the agreement with a lingering kiss to your lips.

“Mmm, I’m so happy I met you, darlin’,” he whispers. “You’re something else, you know?”

You look into his eyes, and there’s a sincerity in them that catches you off guard. You know you shouldn’t have sex with him right now, you know you should tell him to leave.

And yet, as soon as you feel his lips on yours again, more fervently this time, his hands exploring the contours of your back, drawing you close, the rational part of your mind fades away.

“Tell me what you want, baby,” he breathes out before switching to kissing down your neck, the sensation of his soft lips on your sensitive skin making you whimper.

“I want you, Joel. I want you.”

– – –

Thanks for reading, guys!! 🤍

part 1 || series masterlist || main masterlist

tagging: @buckyispunk @koshkaj-blog @paleidiot @pattwtf @runningmom94 @tuquoquebrute @witchofthedeepwoods let me know if you want to be added!

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absolutebl · 7 months ago

Text

Love Sea - A Trash Watch Smolder

Well my BLabies, do you have your drinks ready?

Are your smores stabbed on dildos, ready to roast over the stinking flames? (Or whatever one prods smores with, I missed that weird American tradition in my misspent youth.)

Can you smell it in the air? The smell of burning trash?

Let the dumpster fire begin. Another Mame offering is upon us.

The Background

The Mameverse tends to interlock, but all signs point to these being entirely new characters. (Click on that link if you want my thoughts on this author/producer and what I feel she does well and poorly.) Meanwhile, here's the brief:

Who?

FortPeat - established couple from previous Mame offering Love in the Air AKA LITA (trash watched here).

How do we feel about them? We likie. They a great pair. Steady, established actors, good a promo, but not too good. Bit one note but can't ask for too much when it comes with such great chemistry.

What do we know about them as actors? Fort is legitimately in Engineering (hilarious). Peat and he started in the industry around the same time with bit parts, but Peat is 4 years older. They do high heat and they do it well. They were quite popular after their first series and have received sponsorships. So they wisely stayed branded and it's nice to see them on our screens again.

What?

Love Sea

While travelling a writer has a one night stand with a very irritating man.

When?

Sundays

Where?

iQIYI (AKA icky)

Why?

Mame

To what degree?

Stick your thermometer into that fire, we gonna find out. 102°C I expect.

Episode One - That's An Outfit We'd All Wear to a Tropical Island

Here’s the thing. Icky has decided (in its infinite wisdom) that it will no longer allow screen caps on mobile devices. Which means you’re going to get my loquaciousness on this dumpster fire with no respite from the unmitigated madness via photos of pretty boys saying stupid things.

So. Read at your own risk.

I have a bottle of sake and a maple doughnut (don’t knock it 'til you’ve tried it) so let’s get started!

Hold onto your dildo smores BLabies we are in Mame Country. And apparently that country has its very own baby drone to film with now. (Look, the one thing BL rarely needs more distance shots. That’s not what we’re here for, people. Certainly not from FortPeat.)

Rak, baby, I'm loving the all-black western meets goth-rocker look but that eye make-up is the true star. This is how I shall dress when I visit Thailand next. (Oh, you think I'm joking? Gotta work on my smokey eye.)

Meanwhile, if your suitcases are that expensive, why aren’t they matched?

P'ABL asking the important questions for once.

Speaking of important questions:

Why are siblings always trying to pimp each other out in Mame’s stuff? Does anyone else find this creepy? I think it’s odd to be your sibling's wingman when he's chasing tail. It’s edging into the incest taboo. Oh dear, I said edging and incest in the same sentence, I’m probubly giving Mame ideas.

I’m getting Hometown Cha Cha Cha vibes from Mut.

Rak is such a cat, very picky and stand-offish. Mut is such a puppy. Very conflicting personalities. Not a bad combo. Also Rich/poor. Country/city.

The "let’s get it on" music is hilarious. But at least Mame doesn't use egregious sound effects in her shows. Well, not as many as GMMTV. Small mercies.

I will say, FortPeat do hurt/comfort very well. Peat is good at prickly fragile baby-girl. Fort is good at cocky arrogant prick. They are good at bouncing off of each other and still showing desire. Frankly, chemistry is not one of their problems. They’re fine little actors. It’s just the story is going to betray them. Characters are going to be inexplicably evil for no good reason. And we are going to feel manipulated as a result.

But right now?

It’s fine.

And that's it, that's how I feel about Love Sea.

All in all, I’m quite drunk and it wasn’t warranted.

Waste of sake. Not a waste of a maple doughnut. No such thing. Maple donuts are always put to good use.

Okay, so Mame? Just keep it on this level and we'll remain fine. Some light terrorizing and stalking, a smidge of breaking and entering. Nothing more offensive, okay?

But that’s my eternal optimism (and the sake) talking.

Right now I’m not feeling very strongly in any direction about this show. I haven’t been whipped into a verbal frenzy.

This has been a lackluster start.

Kortord tukorn

(sorry all)

This trash watch has started off as more of a dumpster smolder. A light recycling. (Like Mame and her character archetypes.)

We smokey rather than flaming (Like Rak's FANTASTIC eye makeup.)

Oof, I feel faintly ill. I think that is the sake, tho, not the eye make up. Which was on point! Although when he started to cry, it should’ve started running down his face. Life has very few stand out moments of glory apart from an adorable young man with eye makeup running down his face.

Catch ya next week. More sake, less doughnut.

su su na

Episode Two - Rack's Green Knit Shirt is Kinda Cute

I seriously cannot fault FortPeat's chemistry. And the opening sequence for this ep was intriguingly full of banter and then...

Surprise, BJ!

I do hope that beach is private. Starting with a BJ is very unusual in a BL. We certainly lick live in interesting times.

I feel like I haven't quite been warmed up to a sex scene yet. Kinda came out of nowhere. I mean it IS quite gay, making the prick front and center before the relationship gets going. But I was oddly indifferent to this start.

I'm on gd roll tonight apparently.

You know why? (Well, I'm me, but also...)

I feel like I have license. This show is kinda rude. Is that the word I’m looking for? Yes, rude. It's not very sexy, and it's not quite dirty, it's something else. Rude.

I’m not upset about it. It’s just odd. Like Thailand is trying on some Japanese button pushing for size.

I’m not mad just mildly confused.

Meanwhile, the GL sides are a "whipping girl" trope? Not sure I’ve ever we seen that combo before. Gay mean girls or something?

On an entirely different note, BL universe, I just thought I'd tell you that’s not where a gay man of Rak's caliber puts his perfume. Just FYI.

I love claiming.

I love a public claiming!

I don’t care if this is Mame.

I LOVE A CLAIMING.

Also, I am very much enjoying MutRak banter. Actually, I’m pretty much enjoying this episode.

OOOO, I typed too soon.

The second half is kinda dull.

Mame's little moment of "Author insert" was awful ham-handed and on the nose. On the prick? On the ego? She compared her own rampant mischaracterization and audience manipulation to the presence of dragons in a fantasy world? Basically saying: in BL my characters don’t have to be consistent, because that’s part of the genre.

I assure you, sweetheart, there are plenty of BLs and plenty of authors who have honest characterization that stays consistent throughout, and GASP actually bolsters faithful stories and drives plot with a conflict sourced in that consistency. Wandee Goodday... to pluck a randomly contemporaneous example out of thin air. You should try it sometime.

Ooo, now I'm salty.

Episode 3 - But Now, I'm Bored

Before we start....

Linguistics Corner!

Because I got an Ask here's a bit on these two and their pronouns! (We can see if my predictions are correct during the course of this trash watch.) We are in the realm of adult characters not school setting or friendship groups so Rak is using chan/nai and khun with Mut. There is a class & wealth difference with them, + Mut starts out as a kind of employee, so chan/nai makes perfect sense. It's an old fashioned but polite way of speaking that dodges age negotiations. Rak likely doesn't know their respective ages (he could be the older one). To even begin the discussion implies a willingness to use more intimate language so Rak likely doesn't wanna open that can of worms pronouns. He is using both chan/nai and his lack of flexibility around their use as a distancing tactic. Probubly instinctively. Pom or own name would be both intimate and status lowering for him to use. With most adult characters, phi/nong takes longer to establish (if ever), particularly if they start out as strangers. Also, it has much more intimate connotations. And by that I mean: emotional vulnerability not sex. It's fun to pay attention tho, because when these two pronoun shift (and they will) it's likely to be a significant moment in their romantic arc. If I'm lucky we will get a negotiation but that's not really a Meme thing so I suspect Mut will soften his language first. Because of Mut's characterization, and in order to ramp up the romance, I would actually expect these two to (eventually) parlay into rao/ter instead of phi/pom or guu/mueng. But I am looking forward to finding out how it's handled.

And now onto the episode.

...

Over a quarter way through and I have absolutely nothing to say. I apologize, this muse be a very boring trash watch. (Imagine how I feel?) I’m too tired to drink but even if there were alcohol in my system, I still think I would have nothing to say.

Oh. Is that? Do I sense.... *GASP*

Traumatic backstories for our characters?

From Mame? Who seems to believe that no character can have depth without suffering?

Say it isn't so?

OK we’re now halfway through this episode and apparently there’s been a Time-lapse of some kind? A couple of weeks?

So this little cat & dog game they’ve been playing has been going on for a while?

Meanwhile...

I had a huge grin on my face at the moment Ja showed up. I guess I really miss him on my screen. Hi tall drink of water.

Oh, hydration.

Back to the show.

Just two boys with abandonment issues learning how to turn a vacation fling into a relationship mistake.

Also it’s a bit too early for that level of confessional. Isn't it? Well pacing-wise for a BL it feels that way. Are we now about to turn into a country mouse narrative?

On an entirely different note, it’s fascinating to have FortPeat and MosBank airing to high heat BLs at the same time. Especially as they're running on about the same release schedule. I’m enjoying watching 2 pairs both like in chemistry.

WAIT.

I sense a parody coming on.

Two branded pairs, both alike in chemistry, In fair Thailand, where all the cute boys yearn, From ancient grudge to suffer new Mame, Where trash watches make dumpster fires burn. From Fort the fatal loins of these two hoes (I HAD TO). A pair of branded pairs take on the heat; Whose narratives will oft include no clothes, Do with their smooches fight Tumblr critique. Such shameful usage of the dub-con trope, (Contrasted to others thirsty scenes,) Which, but for Mame's brand, all would say nope, Is now 12 eps of angst upon our screens. To wit, if you want sex without my diatribes, Give this a pass and watch Sunset X Vibes.

Thank you thank you. That is for the 3 people reading this who care.

Where was I?

Or right, no fault to FortPeat. Both pairs are working with the characters and scripts that they've been given.

But right now the sexitimes in this show just feel a lot more service and a lot less genuine (for lack of a better word) then Sunset X Vibes. Now, I know that the characters, narrative, and production company preferences are completely different, but the consummate interplay between surrender and hunger and consummation are oddly similar between these pairs, and yet they're reading (from this side of the screen) completely differently.

I don’t know where I’m going with this.

I just think we have an interesting study in heat and chemistry airing double down right now. And I wonder is anyone else is sensing what I'm sensing.

Writing that sonnet (or whatever) has utterly exhausted me. Nighty night. Don't let the guy-who-took-a-copy-of-your-hotel-key-and-broke-into-your-room bite.

Episode 4 - And Now, I'm Bored & Annoyed

I rushed back from the wilds of foreign climes to trash watch what exactly?

All this time spent establishing Mut as a

pillar of his community

really important lynchpin for oceanic conservation work

striving for his independence

building local friendships and surrogate family

the de facto mayor of this island

And he just leaves for Bangkok to be a boy toy?

And they JOKE about it?

Is the stuff between Mook and Mut supposed to be funny? It's not.

I got so bored I started looking up ways to organize my sunglasses.

Why is Mook so worried about Rak? He’s clearly an asshole who can take care of himself.

What is Mut doing with his life?

What am I doing with mine?

Too early in the series for an existential crisis.

I definitely need to start drinking again for this one.

Episode 5 - In which I simultaneously got even more bored & more annoyed

This time I armed myself with both booze and sugar. Unfortunately, there are some things even alcohol and chocolate can't cure. Mame is one of those things.

The bullying GL subplot is just BAD.

I’m getting an overall EPIC SQUICK from the fact that the two rich privileged characters are essentially taking advantage of the two lower class poorer characters. It’s not a power dynamic I enjoy at all. Ever.

So... everyone in Rak’s family is an extreme bitch, including him? Okaaay.

I mean Rak is pretty and all but I fail to understand the appeal. Maybe Mut just likes bitches? Maybe the sex really is that great?

I tell you, I wouldn’t put up with it.

ARGH. I'm just I’m not finding any of the character dynamics appealing in this show. I never thought I’d say this, but I wish I were back in LITA territory.

I’m honestly sorry this trash watch is so bad.

This show isn’t inspiring me into anything but a general feeling of mild annoyance and slight fury.

It's like this rash I had in Stockholm one time.

Startlingly unpleasant, not what one might hope for, but also it could be worse, I suppose.

Episode 6 - In which I get very upset about jealousy

Tonight I'm combining my sugar with my alcohol and drinking chocolate soy milk with chocolate liquor in it. I'm aware that I have a child's taste in booze. The secret is I don't actually enjoy alcohol, I simply need it to survive Mame.

OK let’s do it.

Rich boy shops when sad.

Frankly, that always makes me feel better too. I prefer the snack aisle myself.

Oh. Goodie. You get to now watch ABL completely losing an entire brain due to raging at the machine because of one sentence.

Ready?

Chapter 6: Jealousy is a Sign of Love

Jealousy is a sign of love?! You absolute fuckers. Jealousy is not a sign of love, jealousy is a sign of possession, insecurity, insanity, and often abuse. Jealousy is a sign to dump that shithead as quickly as possible.

I mean, we all understand the story beat: in BL possession is revered and admired and used to drive plot when all other avenues have been exhausted. But you can’t just say it as the title of an episode! That’s too blatant.

TOO FAR!

Returning to the traumatic backstory.

No, actually. Let’s skip that part.

I do like it when Rak gets all bossy. I love it when a spoiled boy manipulates his man's body to be his bolster pillow. Taiwan is particularly good at this.

Should I just go watch We Best Love for the 1millionth time instead of this show?

Too tempting.

Where was I?

It’s not even halfway through and I’ve already finished my drink in desperation. And am day dreaming of better shows.

Honestly, I have had many feelings about Meme over the years, but I don’t think I’ve ever been this bored with any of her stuff. I’d rather feel something than nothing.

Meanwhile, the GL moves on from bullying to outright manipulation and gaslighting. Cute. Added French for flavor.

I do like a smile kiss. And a lap sit. And so forth. So Fort.

Yes these two do sex scenes very well.

Give me something more.

Anything.

On the bright side... so far... no singing.

Episode 7 - I'm Too Drunk for This

This time, I decided to pre-game. So I went in tipsy. I’m hoping this improves my mood.

Look, I'm doing my best for you here. (Or am I doing my floppyest for you? Eh, same difference.)

Frankly, what’s really annoying me is that I am neither upset nor pleased with this flipping show. Turns out, I like to be driven one way or the other by Mame. But this show? Nada. It's a VOID.

At this juncture I'd prefer to feel rage than indifference.

I gotta say that thinking about this purely as a soap opera makes me understand it more. I don't like it any better, but I get what's going on. These are the Days of Our BL.

Oh hey, I know that convention center! Best food in the biz.

The revenge bit was fun I guess?

Ooo. Now I kinda wanna rewatch Shelter. It’s been ages. Such a great movie.

Where was I?

Oh, right, the crazy cousin character. I don’t understand what’s going on with her. Why do we need her? Why is she here? What’s her motivation?

I’m too drunk for this shit.

I'm going to bed.

Episode 8 - I'm Not Drunk Enough for This

(I detect a theme)

Okay so the hotel wifi is not awful, we gonna try watching icky with it. Always a challenge. Wish me luck!

Wouldn't it be fun if Mut has been conning Rak with this good guy persona the entire time and he really is just after money? I kinda love the idea.

Sadly, I think this is way more boring.

Rak is just a bitch, not even a sublime bitch, but a boring bitch. That's worse than a basic one.

The drama with the dad just seems manufactured. I mean what does the dad want except to be evil?

I mean I know what Mame wants, an excuse for Rak to break Mut's heart.

And now, I'm annoyed and hungry. Imma eat hotel snacks and disappointment in equal measure.

Episode 9 - Perhaps I'm the problem?

I did this already and then tumblr ate it so this time around it's not as witty. Trust me that in the first assessment I was all charm. Now I am all sarcasm.

I enjoyed the random fight scenes. At least something happened. Also the collapsing in his arms was very dramatic.

I can see why Mame reused this pair for this show, because Peat is so good at being broken & fragile (see previous role).

But also… I feel like I’ve seen all of this before. Oh right, the psychotic breakdown scene in TharnType. The fragile broken uke from Love By Chance. The seme with a heart of gold and fists of steel from… all of them.

I find this exhausting.

Is anyone else exhausted?

They say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again (AKA watching Mame) and expecting a different result. I must be certifiably bonkers at this juncture.

Second half of this show I begin to wonder one thing. (Well my mind wanders a lot but this particular thought bubbled to the surface.)

Is this show actually an okay Thai BL?

Wait! Hear me out.

If this were ones first Meme, would it be… fine? In other words, if I didn’t have this storied (or lack of story, nash) history with her creative endeavors, would this bore me this much?

Is this actually just an average mildly enjoyable high-heat Thai BL to others, who are coming to her stuff for the first (or maybe the second) time?

Is it over-exposure or the has traumatized me in this way?

Am I corrupted through overindulgence?

Is this all my own fault?

Should I be taking a break from her? Should I not watch the next 3 productions that she does, and then return to her with fresh feelings of openness and amenable temper?

Is it me who is the problem?

Yet the act of asking that last question makes me feel like I’m in the same kind of abusive relationship with Mame that Rak was with his father.

Then I feel like I need to drink more. Or see a therapist.

So that’s enough philosophy for one evening.

And then, at the very very end A THRILL DESCENDED UPON ME.

Watching the stinger for next weekI was all…

Is this a 10 epper? Oh my God it is! Fantastic. Next week is the last one! I SEE THE LIGHT.

Episode 10 - The Lingering Scent of Disappointment

Today I am drinking a soju cocktail. Which I can highly recommend. If you're a lightweight but you like vodka, Fresh Soju is actually a pretty decent substitute with a lower alcohol content.

This has been your bartender lesson for today, moving on.

Wait.

If the Maa could’ve fixed this all along by throwing the Dad in jail, why didn’t she? Why did she put her kids through all of this bullshit with stalking and abuse? Also the mom character was basically a deus ex machina, except she didn’t even happen on screen. It was action taken to solve what little plot there was... entirely off screen. How weird. I don’t even have a term for that. Bad writing? Recon explanation? Of screen resolution?

OK, Fort is acting so well in the breakup scene. I adore that “how much do I need to pay you to fall in love with me” parrots the original “how much do I need to pay you to sleep with me”. I must give props for that level of emotional manipulation in a romance drama of this type.

That said, I feel for Rak, it’s rough to learn that someone else is playing a long game with feelings while you were playing a short game with d**k.

Meanwhile... I have run out of alcohol and I am now eating brownie bites. Because life (and d**k) is too short and so is my patience.

Why is that tattoo so absolutely terribly obviously fake?

Someone take tattoos and wigs away from Thailand. Just strip them out of all wardrobe departments in the entire Thai film industry. Clearly they can’t handle that level of POWER. It’s giving me trauma.

I do like that the solution to the drama of the break up was an actual sincere and abject apology. Very mature and grown up of you Mame.

I wish they’d woven the number 8 throughout more of the show, like into the pattern of Rak’s shirts and maybe an earring or cuff.

Did they entirely forget about the GL side not-plot? Or is it just me not paying attention because I’m distracted by brownie bites?

Regardless, I genuinely let out the biggest yawn during the very ending scene. It’s nowhere near my bedtime.

And… that’s it I guess.

I’m going on the record at this point. I don’t think I can do a trash watch of Mame again. It’s exhausting. And also is it really worth my (or your) time? This screed was so lackluster.

Final thoughts?

This is probably a solid 8/10 show but I’m mad I wasn’t madder at it, and mad I was so bored throughout.

So It gets a 7/10 and let us not speak of this again. I’d like to simply forget about it.

Conclusion? I’m left residually upset that FortPeat and all their talents are wasted on Mame. That seems unfair to them. And to us, quite frankly.

************************************

All my trash watches are here:

(source)

#ABL trash watches Love Sea #Love Sea the series #BL trash watch #Love Sea #Thai BL #trash watch #bl watch along #ABL trash watches BL

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piratefishmama · 5 months ago

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Just ONE chance | Part 2

“Are you gonna message him?” It was later in the evening, Rosie was in the living room watching some gameshow while Stevie sat at the kitchen island, having just finished cleaning up after dinner, Robin facing her through her phone, stuffing her face with what looked like French fries.

“Dusty thinks I should but… should I? It doesn’t feel too… I dunno, desperate? Cause I’m not desperate, I could not care less about dating rockstars, in fact before all this the idea of dating a rockstar would have never crossed my m—“

“Stevie” Robin cut her off “if anyone seems desperate right now, it’s him. It ain’t you, nobody in their right mind could think it was you. You were just doing your own damn thing and he cringe-failed so hard he broke the internet. Listen… you don’t have to do shit, EVEN IF Dustin is telling you to. Dustin doesn’t know everything.” Stevie bit her bottom lip in pensive thought, Robin on the other end of the video call stuffed another French fry into her mouth before asking, “do you want to though? That’s the important thing, do you want to?”

“I don’t KNOW, that’s the problem. It’s nice… I guess… to be wanted, but it’s not just about me anymore.” It was about Rosie. Stevie’s life wouldn’t be the only life impacted if she took that chance. Maybe if she were younger, maybe if she didn’t have Rosie things would be different, maybe she’d have been wild and jumped at it, but she had Rosie, and Rosie mattered way more to her than anything a stranger on the internet could give her.

“It’s a little bit about you, Stevie, and it’s okay to let it be about you. You’ve spent literal years putting yourself on the back burner, even Mike got hitched before you, like who called that?” Nobody. Nobody called that, even though he and Will had been dancing around each other since kindergarten, nobody would have called that. “We both know Billy wouldn’t have wanted you to be on your own like this either.”

“What if he’s weird about Rosie?”

“Then he hits the road, simple. I heard he’s good with kids though.” Stevie offered a look, a simple unimpressed raised brow “Whaaatt, okay fine I looked him up when I saw it all blowing up, call it me doing my sisterly duty. He’s weird, but in a harmless opossum kind a way, y’know? Like he probably scampers or something.”

“What about like… drugs… alcohol… shit I don’t want around Rosie?”

“According to his Wiki page, the whole band an issue with addiction in the early days, toxic music label, it was a huge legal mess, they all went to rehab, cut their old label an they’ve all been clean and sober since. Knowing you, like I do… I really do think you’d like him, and Rosie would love him too, He’s very… I dunno…”

Vickie, Robin’s fiancée, chose that exact moment to shove her face into view of the camera to announce, “He’s like a mix between Billy and Dustin, a suuuper-hot, but a huge nerd, you’d like him, definitely.”

A weird mix of Billy and Dustin. What a wild mental image.

“So you’re both on Dustin’s side then. I should message him?”

“It’s not our place to tell you what to do” Robin shrugged, she couldn’t tell her what to do, but she could offer a helpful suggestion of “maybe ask Rosie, she’s the only reason you’re hesitating and she’s old enough now to at least have an opinion, right?” Stevie looked toward the living room, where the glow of the TV bounced off the walls, Rosie’s laughter echoing from the other room.

“She already knows somethings up, Stevie, kids talk in school” Vickie reminded them “and Eddie’s… pretty famous, Corroded Coffin aren’t exactly unknown, an you’re not exactly unknown online either, someone’s bound to have mentioned it to her by now.” If the kids hadn’t, Dustin probably would eventually just to get her on his side before Stevie could get her on hers.

“Fine. But if this all blows up in my face, i’m revoking both your lunch privileges, for life.”

“What?! N—” Stevie cut their unison attempt to argue off with a well-timed click of the end call button, put her phone face down on the island top so she could ignore the incessant buzzing of them attempting to dial back, and made her way to the living room, where someone just face planted into a lovely pool of mud on the TV. Good ol gameshow night.

“Rosie…?” No time like the present. “Can we talk?”

It wasn’t often that Stevie interrupted gameshow night, usually they’d be watching it together, but Stevie had had other things on her mind, other much more pressing things that people didn’t seem to want to let die.

She was prepared to let them die, let this be a weird story of her ‘youth’ that she’d remember some day in a nursing home, a story nobody would believe but she’d swear blind happened!

A rockstar thought she was hot enough to send the internet into a meltdown one time. It happened, she swore it!

It wouldn’t die though. Not until she either told everyone to drop it, or entertained it.

“Sure, but uhm… if this is about the Eddie Munson thing—” she turned away from the TV to look at her mom “Uncle Dusty warned me about it way in advance, got me just before school started this morning.” Probably saved her from being ambushed about it by the kids at school. “It’s cool! He’s really cool, I mean, he’s super weird, huge nerd but… he seems nice”

Meddling little shit. Stevie took a breath, accepted this information, decided to deal with it later, and just powered through. “And you don’t think it’s unrealistic for everyone to think this is real?”

“It’s definitely real, mom. Uncle Dusty found his private account on your followers list, he’s been following you for aaaaaages,”

“Most people call that stalking.” How did Dustin even find it among the mass of others? Had Eddie been that obvious? Or was Dustin just that good?

“In the old days maybe! It’s almost romantic nowadays. You should message him, before Uncle Dusty does, cause he will. We both know he will.” Dustin had been uncomfortably absent all day since bursting in without warning. Stevie hadn’t even thought of it as a red flag until Rosie mentioned it ought to be. “It’s time, mom. It’s okay.”

“You’re really okay with it? It’s not crazy?”

“Oh, it’s SUPER crazy, but it’s a cool crazy, my mom’s gonna date thee Eddie Munson cause he begged you to, it’s the best kind of nuts, I wonder if he’d teach me how to play guitar…”

Had Eddie Munson actually asked anyone before he opened those DM’s, anyone at all, because he didn’t really consult the band as to what he was going to DO on the band's accounts, they’d have probably told him not to do that.

And they’d have been correct!

Because everyone and their mother, and even some fathers, decided to shoot a shot they never had!

He didn’t just get one DM, no, he got… many. Many. People messaged asking for autographs, merch, people asked for tickets, some offered themselves if Stevie didn’t message, some offered to DRESS UP as Stevie for him, a few went with Eddie’s own plan simply messaging with a plea for just ONE chance for themselves.

For hours. Hours. He scrolled through those messages.

Sure, he could have gotten someone to do it for him, but he’d done everything else on the account by himself, so he’d tackle the DMs too. He’d delete them, one by one, everything that wasn’t relevant to his quest, making sure to view each one, even if they did surprise him in their creativity, because what if she had a private account like he did? What if she actually recognised her popularity and created a tiny incognito safe haven from it all like he did?

She didn’t though.

She didn’t have one.

She didn’t need one.

At least that was what he gathered at the end of the long list of DMs, she didn’t have a private, she just had her main one, and she hadn’t sent him anything from it.

He knew it was a long shot, he could have had all the fame and fortune in the world, it wouldn’t matter if she wasn’t interested in it all and she clearly didn’t seem to be if what Chrissy had said was true. She didn’t do sponsored posts; she wasn’t aiming for fame and fortune. She lived a comfortable life with her kid, and just happened to be popular on the internet.

She didn’t owe him anything, he didn’t deserve an answer, he—

Bzzt-bzzt

He snatched his phone right back up lightning fast, swiped down the notifications bar, and with wide eyes read the first line of the message he’d been sent,

“PLEASE HEAR ME OUT I’M STEVIE’S BROTHER, DUSTIN.”

Eddie wasn’t about to claim Stevie didn’t have a brother. He didn’t know if Stevie had a brother, just that Stevie had a sister because the sister, Robin, had turned up in a video once, bursting in on a live in the early days to accidentally announce to the world that ‘Vickie’ was now single.

It could be a trick, it could be a way in, it could be literally anything, what Eddie knew for sure though, was that it was the closest he’d gotten to potentially speaking to Stevie.

So, he did the only thing he could think of.

He replied, “prove it.”

The reply came through quickly, almost like this mysterious brother was waiting by the phone in hopes Eddie would be there to receive his message. It was a photo of a polaroid. Grainy as it was, it was clearly a younger, frankly stunning Stevie with a barely-there baby bump, reaching back to a guy who was leaning over her with a ridiculously stacked sandwich, she looked happy, she looked lovestruck, she glowed, and for a moment, jealousy struck him as if he were some childish teenager.

This was likely her child’s father, the one who was no longer in the picture for some unknown reason. She’d never disclosed why. He looked happy too though so… there were more questions than answers at that point.

Plus, the Polaroid had a scrawled “Stevie domesticated Satan” on the white part with a little devil face so, many questions, very few answers.

With the image, however, came the caption “I took this when she was pregnant with Rosie, it’s the last photo we have of Billy, Rosie’s dad.”

Rosie… Stevie had a little girl.

Another photo followed, this one of Stevie and a younger boy with curly hair, the kid all dressed up in a brown suit, hair done up to the nines, probably for some kind of party. No pregnancy in sight, they were both beaming at the camera, the kid with an awful lot of metal in his mouth but, adorable. The Polaroid had “Snowball!!!” scribbled on the white part, followed by a message reading “my mom took tons of photos of us for the Snowball dance back when I was in middle school, Stevie helped me do my hair” so the kid was supposed to be this ‘brother’ of hers.

A final photo was sent, this one clearer, obviously taken on a phone of what looked like a grade graduation ceremony, a more recent image of Stevie, with her daughter, and an older version of the kid from the snowball picture. Captioned with the message “only family could get so many family pictures!”

The next message came through without a photo “we’re not related by birth, she was my babysitter for years before circumstances got her adopted by my mom. I’m oversharing a lot and she’s probably gonna kick my ass for it BUT I think she’d like you if she gave you a chance so I’m building a bridge of communication!”

Oh yeah, this guy had meddling little brother energy for days.

Eddie quickly typed back, “thanks for your vote of confidence, man but she isn’t giving me a chance here, you are, it’s not up to anyone but her.”

Typing—typing—tyyyyyping “she just doesn’t know you, an she’s hesitating cause of Rosie, I could probably get you a meet up though!”

“What like, ambushing her in the wild?”

“It’d work!”

“Sounds like it’d get me slapped by both her, and a restraining order an neither are good for my public image, or my feelings.” He then quickly added, before ‘Dustin’ could argue “Listen dude as much as I appreciate this, an I do, I’m real touched by your approval, it means the world to me, at the end of the day, it’s up to her. You can’t make this decision for her, alright?”

The typing stopped, then started again, and then stopped. Then finally “fine, but can you leave your DMs open for a little longer? She’s got Rosie to consider so she may just need to think about it a bit longer.”

“Deal.” He’d leave them open for one more day, after that he’d just have to accept the loss, accept that she didn’t want him, cause she sure as shit didn’t need him, and move on with his life.

Dustin sent him one last emoji, a little salute, and that was that for the rest of the night. There were a few more pings, opportunists, but nothing from the person who mattered most. He deleted them, switched his phone to silent, and took his disappointed little self to bed.

It wasn’t that late but, he was done for the day.

He was tired.

#Piratewrites #justonechancefictlet #Part 3 of 4 #OKAY THERE'S FOUR PARTS NOW #SHHH

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orchidyoonkook · 4 months ago

Text

To What We Were Before, And All The Things After | JJK | Ch. 8

Title: Photo Shoots and Blasphemous Discoveries

Pairing: Prince!College Student!JK x Fine Arts Major!(F)!Reader

Series Rating//Genre: (M) | College AU, Mild Royalty AU, Smut, Angst, Fluff, S2F2L, Indiffernce to lovers, sloooowwww ass burn

Summary: You're just there to help JK with his final project, so why are you being doused in water, facepaint and smoke? Art. Art is why.

Warnings: T, language, fluff, angst, honestly this one's kinda wholesome and fun, some photogrpahy jargin in there, but nothing a quick google search can't fix if you really need to <3, it's mostly surface level jargin. Also the smoke machine works cuz JK has great ventilation due to the massive windows being open, so don't worry bout that XD, some light and fun name calling, some world building. Ask if you need clarification on anything. That's all I think!

Word Count: 11,684

Release Date: September 1, 2024. 4:30PM

A/N 1: Surprise! Happy JK Day.

PJK [7:36pm]: Saturday afternoon. my place. 11am. PJK [7:36pm]: bring an extra set of clothes, something warm. Sweats if you have them. PJK [7:37pm]: also, Im gunna need your shirt size

The first three weeks of November have flown by and dragged on at the same time.

The weather’s getting colder. You need a thick jacket if you want to be anywhere outside, and all leaves have fallen from the trees, leaving pines the only ones left with their winter coats on. Hot chocolate from greenhouse cafe has become part of your life’s blood so you don’t freeze, and gloves with pocket warmers inside them are once again a part of your everyday.

But November skies have returned. And you frequently set up camp on the drying grass beside the greenhouse, dressing your canvas with oil paint to their likeness as it’s the only paint that doesn’t dry the second it’s out of the tube in the cold, static air.

Jungkook told you earlier in the week the shoot would most likely be this weekend, and that he just had a few final strings to pull together before being able to confirm. So with that in mind, you intentionally tried to finish all your work before this weekend, knowing the shoot will take a while to complete.

He mentioned it may leak over into Sunday depending on how much you get done on the first day, which is fine with you considering you usually spend Sunday evenings at his place anyway. You’d consider it an extended edition of your regularly scheduled broadcast.

And speaking of regularly scheduled, you haven’t missed a single movie night since Nel left. Granted, it’s only been three weeks, but even missing the two you did because of Nel had made an impact.

You’d gotten so used to them, having that time to destress and unwind before the week starts. A nice little routine that helps reset you both mentally and physically.

Suddenly not having that was…a weird feeling you try not to remember.

And you are more than happy to never miss another one ever again.

You aren’t sure what Jungkook tells Adaline he’s doing during movie night, but she’s never interrupted you, not even once. And it’s something you are increasingly grateful for, because she is one of the things you destress from as your unspoken rivalry always amps up the closer to exam season you get.

It’s Thursday evening, and you’re in your room finishing up a Microeconomics 3 assignment while piano music plays on a speaker in the corner. You use it to help you focus, and it’s working its magic as you’re finishing your work in record time.

Music has always helped you work better, and you credit it largely with how you’ve been able to keep up with everything in your schooling.

Yuri’s in her room, doing homework as well you assume. Or maybe texting Tai—the dreamy, big dicked Ilcalos island Count—you swear she’s only put her phone down for sleep and showering, as she’s constantly checking to see if he’s messaged her. And you hope it turns out well for them, Yuri deserves someone who treats her well. Especially after the whole Jungkook debacle—which you’re not allowed to bring up—and then the poor rebound you aren’t allowed to talk about either. You’re just happy she’s finally found someone worth her time.

Picking up your phone, you shoot Jungkook a text back.

You [7:40pm]: okay! saturday at 11 sounds good. I’ll bring sweats and warm socks

You message him your shirt size too, curious as to what he’ll use it for, but you’re sure you’ll find out in due time. You always do.

Subject to many of his homework assignments, you’ve been posed and lit and adjusted every which way.

Jungkook is incredibly professional when you’re with him as a model. Light touches to correct posing, always with a ‘may I’ before he does, and he fills the room with kind words, good vibes, and fun music so you never feel awkward.

At first you were really iffy on the whole idea when he first asked in September, because it would be the prince of your nation photographing little ol’ you. You weren’t anything special—yet—and you’re still never one for being in the spotlight, or for being on camera. At all. But if it was just for homework, and you were helping out a friend…you figured why not?

It helped that all of your worries immediately faded when you saw the results of that first shoot.

An email from a very non-princely email address found its way into your inbox. The subject was the date of the shoot, and the only message inside being:

thanks. Hope you like them.

Let’s do it again sometime.

-J

When you opened the attachments you made a quick dive to catch the phone that fell from your hands in shock.

You looked…beautiful. Like you never had in pictures before. Not in school, or at graduation, not even in the ones you took of yourself.

You didn’t know you were capable of looking like that.

Like how he saw you. Captured you.

And you’ll never admit you’ve held your chin a little higher with every shoot since.

They make you feel powerful, attractive. More confident, and sure of yourself, as if you were always meant to be in front of a camera. Like you’d been in front of one since before you could walk.

They do that for you.

He…does that for you—with his pictures, of course.

Jungkook is very talented. Very skilled with his camera, and you find yourself looking forward to the concepts he comes up with every time. Trusting him and whatever his vision is wholeheartedly.

Though a small, immature piece of you is also pleased he still wants you to model, and not Adaline. That he finds you easier to work with over her.

Your competitive streak never fails to come out, even with the smallest, secretive things.

Take that Adaline.

You gladly help him out with his homework, and he does the same for you.

If you ever need a male reference or a profile study. Anatomy practice, features practice, likeness practice. Anything and almost everything, all you have to do is ask, and he sits still or places whatever you need in front of you while you sketch.

Hands, however, have always been a personal favourite of yours.

They’re one of those things that can be drawn a hundred different ways and never look the same. Always a new position you can put them in. Consistently able to shake things up. And one set is never like the others—like eyes. There’s little differences in all of them and that’s where their magic lies.

You do these studies at the greenhouse, it has the best light to shadow ratio. When you ask him for one, he’ll switch to working with one hand, while the other does whatever you tell it. Normally either placed on your table or if there isn’t enough room, which nine times out of ten there isn’t because of all your supplies, you stick your foot on the lower metal frame of his table and he rests his arm, wrist or palm on your up bent knee.

Due to this, you’ve unintentionally come to find out that his hands are very strong, very calloused, and very, very warm…

Also! Aside from hand studies, you love loose figure studies because they’re great warm up sketches. And what Jungkook doesn't know is that you have dozens of warm up sketches of him. Doesn’t know you sneak pictures here and there when you can, hiding them in a hidden album on your phone entitled ‘hmwk screenshots.’ And he definitely doesn’t know that when he’s sitting at the cafe, nose deep in assignments, you doodle his features or his outfit in real time.

A nose here, a jacket there. A muscular forearm covered in tattoos also tends to find its way onto your page every so often.

He’s got a good physique. And the ridges make for excellent anatomy practice. So does the intricate line work of tattoos, and fabric rippling. Especially in drastic lighting. Consistency is key in maintaining and improving your work and it’s not like any of these sketches will ever see the light of day anyways.

They’re just, well…practice.

A sigh escapes you, and you refocus on finishing your microecon work. You still have two more assignments to get done before Saturday at eleven.

“And why are you working with some random girl when I’m available, again?” Adaline asks. She’s currently sitting on Jungkook's couch in your spot. He’s setting up tomorrow's materials against the big white wall by the floor length windows that showcase his balcony.

It’s why he chose to live here instead of in the dorms or on campus. His place isn’t enormous, like most people would think, it has enough room for everything a regular student needs: bedroom, kitchen, workspace, living room, bathroom, even a guest room. But the one thing he keeps different is the big white wall where a dining room would normally be.

Jungkook’s place has high ceilings, 10 feet tall, which is higher than the average but not excessive. And the wall that connects his kitchen to the balcony is a perfect mock studio. He can even keep all his equipment there; lights, gels, backgrounds, tubs full of props, camera cases, lenses, and more all stored in neat shelving against another wall.

“Because students volunteered for extra credit, and she’s who was assigned to me,” a small lie, one he was sure that Adaline wouldn’t dig into too deeply.

“Why didn’t you tell me I could volunteer?”

“Because you didn’t need the extra credit?”

She pouts, and goes back to her phone.

Adaline also doesn’t know it’s you he’s photographing and that is one hundred percent intentionally planned by him.

He could sense something between you two after you made that one comment after fall break. He notices now how you stiffen slightly every time he mentions Adaline, and the one time he mentioned you in passing to test the waters, Adaline changed the conversion topic almost immediately. A look of annoyance, or maybe even insecurity in her eyes.

So he’s been lucky that Adaline has never wanted to see any of his schoolwork prior to or after the singular shoot he did with her.

Lucky she hasn’t seen your face fill up his screen constantly.

And extremely lucky that she doesn’t know about the hidden folder buried deep in his desktop labeled ‘eqpmt rcpts’ filled with dozens of candid shots of you.

To be fair, you don’t know about them either. They’re random, shots taken every now and then where he thought you looked happy, focused, or just existing. True candids of the most candid person he knew.

It started that day with his first assignment from Professor Hirmer. He’d taken those quick pictures of you painting, and then simply never stopped.

He has pictures of you in the courtyard, walking and talking to Yuri, you smiling. He has some he took on his phone when you’re over for movie night, invested in the film or talking to him. And a bunch of you painting at the greenhouse. It’s hard to take secret candids when he’s right beside you, but he manages seeing as you haven't caught him yet.

He even has a few of you and Nel, love clearly written on your face in every single one of them.

Whenever he spots you before you spot him, and he has his camera on him, he takes a couple.

They’ve amassed into a healthy sum, but he thinks of it as a harmless habit as no one will ever know. And it’s not like he’s following you around to take them or using them for anything nefarious.

He just likes taking your picture. Capturing your spirit, your candor.

Your realness.

You are wholly yourself, always, no holding back, all of the time.

And to him, it feels like coming up for a breath of fresh air.

“Hey!” you say as you let yourself into Jungkook’s apartment. You’d knocked but no one answered and it was currently 10:56am on Saturday, so you knew he was here. Plus, his door was unlocked.

“Jungkook?” you call.

No answer.

You take your shoes off after closing the door and locking it. He should really keep his door locked.

Very quickly become best friends with the couch, you toss your backpack of warm clothes on the floor while you wait for him to make an appearance.

There’s shoot equipment everywhere; lights in the corner, some with soft boxes on them, gels laid out on the coffee table, and what you’ve come to learn is a lens case sits on the couch beside you in Jungkook's usual spot.

Jungkook has also somehow managed to find some small trees in blue ceramic pots and what you’re pretty sure is a smoke machine.

But the most peculiar thing is what looks to be a kiddie pool up against the wall with a folded tarp at its base.

Well that's…interesting…

You hear a door open somewhere in the apartment and running water.

“Jungkook? That you?”

“Hey! Yep. Just give me a sec, I’m almost done.”

The water sounds cease and Jungkook makes his grand entrance as he turns the corner holding a large watering can. Your eyebrow raises.

“For the trees?” you ask.

“What?”

You point to the watering can currently making his veins pop.

He laughs, “Oh! No. This is for later. You’ll see,” and walks to the other side of the room by the pool.

“Aren’t we mysterious today,” you say, following him with your eyes. He’s in ripped black jeans that accentuate the muscle definition of his thighs, and a matching baggy shirt. When his back is turned you snap a quick picture. The fabric folds on his baggy shirts are some of your favourite mindless things to cool down sketch.

“Nah, just focused. We have a lot to get through today.” He sets down the watering can and you can see the moment the switch flips from friend to photographer. “The guest room is ready for you. There’s a clothing rack inside with each look labeled. There’s also makeup and face paint, if you could bring out the make up after you're done changing, that would be great. We’re gonna start with ‘Bright and Bold’, okay?”

You usually use the spare room as a change room when you have to switch clothes for a shoot. But they were always from your own closet. He’d tell you the concept he was going for and you’d bring a few options to choose from.

Makeup you were used to, though. Jungkook loves abusing your artistic abilities for his shoots in the way you decorate your face or body, saying they make his works a level up from the rest of his classmates.

They also usually make for some of the coolest pictures you have of yourself.

This is the first time he’s ever bought clothing, though.

You shouldn’t be as surprised as you are, this being his final assignment for an important class, and him being as serious as he is about his work and the final product. But you can't help it, you’re excited to see everything he’s chosen for the shoot.

For you.

For the shoot.

“Yep, sounds good. Be out in a few,” you reply. He nods in acknowledgement before moving to set something up and you don’t stick around to find out, grabbing your bag and heading towards the door lined hall.

The guest room is modest and clean. White sheets and gray comforter with, surprisingly, two throw pillows to spruce it up. The walls are white too, but you’re pretty sure that’s because Jungkook’s not allowed to paint the apartment per his landlord's wishes—a thought that still makes you laugh.

He could buy any place he wanted, but chose to rent. ‘To get the real university experience,’ he explained when you asked him the first time you went over.

Black furniture accents the room. A comfortable looking leather chair sits in the corner by a glass door that leads to the balcony. It has a small table beside it. There’s a dresser with a mirror in the other corner and of course, in the center of the room, is the bed. It’s a nice room. However, the newest edition is what’s keeping your eye.

Four shirts hang from the rack at the foot of the bed. The first is vibrant and colourful, the second a light neutral short sleeved V neck, third is strapless and skin coloured, and the last is made from thin black fabric you assume will be skin tight by the looks of it.

As promised, they’re all labeled with a sticker.

You throw your bag on the bed and grab the colourful one first. Its sticker says ‘bright and bold,’ and you put it on after removing the shirt you came in, then zip it up. The material feels heavy, durable and expensive. You check the tag on the inside seam and see it’s from Ilkaya, one of the biggest and most expensive fashion designers on this side of the realm.

Your eyes bug out of your head, and you try not to breathe too hard for fear of ruining it. Your routine of thrifting all your clothes makes you pretty damn sure you can’t even imagine how much this cost.

It feels good though, comfortable, not itchy. Really freaking expensive.

You look at yourself in the mirror, and you have to admit you look amazing. It fits perfectly in all the right places, compliments your skin tone, and even brings out your eyes. Begrudgingly, you admit to yourself that maybe there’s some sense in what the price tag could be. But it would still be a ridiculous sum for a jacket.

With one last look in the mirror, you grab the palettes, brushes and other tools off the dresser, and leave your designated dressing room for the day in favour of returning to the living room.

Jungkook’s got music going from your shared playlist. Insisting on making one after your second shoot together, when he decided you both agreed to the arrangement becoming a regular thing. It’s a good mix of both of your musical tastes, even though you guys figured out quickly that you liked pretty similar stuff anyway.

“What do you think? Does it work?” You ask as you turn the corner.

Jungkook fiddles with this camera before looking and pausing for a moment to take you in. You hope you look okay, but the weird look he has on his face makes you backtrack a bit.

“Is this not the one you wanted? It had the label on it. But I can go back and double che- ”

“You look amazing,” is all he says, and your worry slides off you instantly. He smiles wide, the one you’ve come to recognize as genuine.

“Thanks. But the colour’s doing most of the work for me,” you say, smiling back shyly.

He has a white background set up, and two differently coloured gel’d lights sit on opposite one another, a third, smaller floor light faces the background. A backlight, he’d call it.

Bright and Bold indeed, though there is the matter of-

“What do you want me to do for my make up?”

“Actually,” he sets down his camera gently on a table, “Is it okay if I do it? I want it to be a little more on the amateur side and I don’t think your years of refined talent would let you get the exact look I want.”

That’s new. But you're here to stand and look however he wants you too, so you allow him with a nod.

“Sure, where do you want me to sit?”

“Here’s fine,” he says as he pulls a stool that was off to one side close to one of the windows. “As long as you don’t mind holding the make up. I don’t have a table to set them down on. Should’ve thought of that, sorry.”

You can tell he’s mentally scolding himself for forgetting something.

“No no, it’s fine,” you say, taking your seat, “I don’t mind, really.”

Placing the balls of your feet on the bar that holds the chair legs together, you make your lap even enough to set the palettes out, and use a hand to hold all the brushes.

Jungkook laughs, noticing your feet as you sit, “Cute socks.”

They’re light blue with a fox face on them, and little ears stick up from the elastic around the ankle.

“Thanks,” you laugh too, they’re your favourite pair. “I call them my fox socks. They’re lucky.”

“Let’s hope so. Wish me luck fox socks,” he calls to your toes, and you wiggle them in response.

He picks a brush and chooses a colour. “Close your eyes and let me know if I’m pressing too hard. If it isn’t obvious, I’ve never done this before.”

You close your eyes and whisper, “Will do.”

It's a uniquely intimate experience having your makeup done. Willingly letting someone get up close and personal with you, allowing them to see every potential scar, blemish and pore in the name of beauty and for the sake of creativity.

In this case, it’s also a little questionable considering where you feel the brush putting down colour: cheeks, lids, temple, nose. However, you’re simply a pawn in a well thought out plan, so you sit and wait for him to finish.

“Annnd done,” he says, making a final swipe with the brush on your cheek. “You look great! I didn’t hurt you, right?” he asks, showing you the makeup in a palettes mirror. Your face looks like it’s been attacked by a rainbow in the best way. You smile, taking the mirror from him and looking at all the little details.

For a first timer, Jungkook did a really good job.

“Nope, I’m good. How do you want me?”

Jungkook leads you to the backdrop, placing you in front.

“One second,” he says, grabbing a remote and clicking a button to lower the black out curtains on the windows, and then another that turns off the apartment lights. He also clicks on all the lights he’s set up and you’re quickly illuminated by a bright red and purple as well as the back light.

“I’m good to pose?” he asks.

“Yep.”

You love that he always asks first. It makes you feel safe and considered, consenting to every touch prior to its occurrence.

Jungkook instructs the first pose to have your hands on the sides of your face, making slight adjustments so that you don’t cover any of the makeup. And for the first time, his touches leave little sparks where they land.

You’re sure it’s just because of the lights or that the shirt is thick and makes you warm.

Or maybe you’re just nervous and need to get the first photo jitters out of your system.

Soon enough, the camera’s pointing at you and you smile the brightest you can. He’s given you the prompt of ‘you’re so excited and happy you can’t hold it in,’ and you work with it the best you can, taking the first few with the pose he gave before being given full reign.

It’s a decent way into the first shoot when Jungkook says, “Hmm…we’re not quite there yet, I need a bit more,” and follows up with, “How about ‘you’ve just been commissioned by the Modern Art Museum to have the leading showcase for next year’.”

You smile the biggest you think you ever have at the thought. Because that’s the dream, that is the biggest goal you could achieve. An entire gallery of your work as the primary exhibition in the Western Shores Modern Art Museum? You couldn’t go any higher. It’s every artist's dream.

“There you go! That’s it!” The camera’s capturing quickly as you imagine what it would be like to have your own showcase at the WS-MAM. Incredible is the first word that comes to mind, your work in the biggest museum on the continent? You can’t even imagine, but you want to.

One day, you promise yourself. You’ll do it one day.

“Okay,” Jungkook says, breaking your daydream, “Let me switch out the gels for new colours and go again. These are great so far though, you're doing amazing.”

You hold your hand out for a high five and he smacks it. “Go team!” you say, and he laughs.

An hour and a half, a makeup fix and three lighting changes later, the first shoot finishes. You collapse on the couch and rub the muscles on your thighs.

Jungkook plops down beside you, nose deep in the pictures he’s just taken, double checking everythings good.

“This is a fantastic start, I hope we can keep it up all day and finish before tomorrow.”

“Me too,” you say, and you mean it. Shoots with him are always fun, but inevitably tiring. “I’m gonna to grab a water, want one?”

“Yes please,” he replies without looking up.

In the kitchen, you open the fridge to grab the two bottles and notice a box, stamped with a coffee mug that has a greenhouse inside of it, on top. The greenhouse cafe’s logo.

“Can I ask what’s inside the cafe box?” you ask as you sit back on the couch and pass him a bottle.

“Ah, caught red handed,” he says, setting his camera on the table and taking a swig. “I may have asked Vivan earlier this week to make sure there was an overstock of tarts so I could grab them for you as a thank you for today.”

...Oh

That’s so sweet. He’s never gotten you a thank you gift before, especially not in the form of the most delicious pastry to ever exist. Maybe you should get him something for all the times he’s helped you with homework? A solstice gift maybe?

There’s heat forming in your chest and you really hope it’s not the beginning stages of heartburn. Maybe Jungkook has antacids.

“You didn’t have to do that, I’m happy to help.”

“So you don’t want them then?” his shit eating grin making a glorious comeback because he knows what your answer’s going to be.

“No! I want them. I most definitely want them.”

He chuckles and puts his water down.

“Okay Donatello, glad you accept. Let's move on to the next set up. There’s makeup remover and cotton pads in the room, and some moisturizer too if you need it.”

The next shoot is called ‘Regality,’ and it has you in the strapless shirt. You find out it’s quite a low cut when you put it on. There’s enough to cover you, but there’s definitely a lot of your chest showing. However, under the shirt on the hanger is a scarf to cover yourself with, which you think is very considerate.

“Makeup?” you ask as you come out again, scarf covering you.

“Neutral, but strong. Kind of like how my mother does,” the background is still white, but you have a hunch that it will remain white in this picture, unlike the last one. “This one is going to be black and white, so try to emphasize your natural beauty.”

You ignore that he essentially just said you're beautiful, surely he’s just being kind and professional. Making sure his model feels good about herself.

Right?

Right.

You put on a coat of mascara and go light on the shadow so it won't be too dramatic on film. You also use a shade of lipstick that adds just a tint to your lips and a blush that makes your eyes pop.

Jungkook has you sit on the stool from earlier and faces your body three quarters of the way towards the camera, but keeps your head turned in profile.

“Oh! Almost forgot, one second,” Jungkook jogs to his room, coming back with a palm sized velvet box. “I had my mother send these over for this shoot. She has better taste than me, so I let her pick them out.”

Your stomach plummets to the floor when he opens the box.

Inside are two dangling diamond earrings, and quite possibly the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen.

And now you’re terrified.

“Jungkook, I can't wear those. They look like they’re worth more than my house, my car and my tuition combined.”

He takes one out and places it in your hand for you to put in, it’s the length of your index finger. And all you can think about is the potential houses you’re holding as you look at it.

It’s a semi-rectangular earring, encrusted with four columns of diamonds that cascade down, each column longer than the previous. Like a sparkling waterfall you can attach to your ear.

“Don’t worry about it, mum said she never wears them anyway because they’re part of a set that the necklace was lost to years ago. Please,” his face is nothing but reassurance and small smiles, “You’re giving them a chance to live again.”

You couldn't say no to those eyes even if you wanted to.

So you reply, almost breathless and still against your better judgment, “Okay.”

Placing them in one after the other, they have a significant, understandable weight to them. You take a couple deep breaths so you don't freak out, and then you return to your previously designated pose, profile set, body facing the camera.

“Can I adjust?” Jungkook asks, after taking a step back and getting a wider view.

You nod gently, still terrified of the earrings.

He makes sure the earring is visible and untangled first, before a finger gently comes beneath your chin, and lifts it a bit higher.

The feeling they leave behind is all you can think about as you stare at your place on the wall, Jungkook snapping away. Not even the soft light illuminating your profile is enough to make you blink.

This shoot goes by quickly, and you’re relieved to get the earrings back safely inside their box.

“It’s like 2:45, wanna break for a late lunch?” Jungkook asks.

“Please, I’m starved,” you say, returning from the guest room after tossing on the sweater you brought. “What's on the menu?”

“Well, we have two options,” he says, looking very faux serious, “1. We order out from wherever you want and awkwardly wait for it to arrive because the next shoot is not one we can’t prep for, then eat, then shoot. Or 2. I make use of the ingredients I bought to make Bulgogi Kimchi Fried Rice and you get lunch and a show.”

You're shocked.

Jungkook…cooks? Oh this you absolutely must see.

“Hmm….” you say, pretending to really mull it over in the same ‘serious’ tone, “I’m thinking I’ll have to go with option two, Chef. But I’ll lend a hand where I can, no use in standing around doing nothing.”

“Every chef needs a sous.”

With both of you on task, lunch is getting made quickly. Jungkook has all the ingredients to make ‘my buddy’s famous family recipe,’ a man who you assume is a chef back at the palace. The island countertop is currently covered in them; onion, kimchi, marinated bulgogi, gochujang, cooked rice, eggs and more.

You’re surprised at how skilled Jungkook is in the kitchen. He’s cutting the ingredients like he’s been doing it his whole life and working the pan over the stove like the proper technique has been drilled into him since birth.

Thirty minutes pass, and after both of you shed a tear at the cut onions and evenly split the remaining tasks, you’re sitting on the couch about to take your first bite. It smells delicious. Your mouth is watering and you can’t wait to dig in, stomach painfully empty by this point.

Finally taking that first bite, you nearly die of euphoria.

“Ouhmahgaud,” you say, mouth half full. Jungkooks on the other side of the couch, trying not to cough out his own food from laughing at your reaction. His eyes are nearly shut with how wide he’s smiling.

“Good?” he asks after swallowing his food first, like a civilized person.

You’re vigorously nodding as you swallow your own helping in hopes you’re understood.

“You’re giving me this recipe. I need it. I don’t think I will survive if this is the only time I ever get to eat it.” Your bowl is almost half gone already. Thank god there’s leftovers, you will be having more.

Plus, you want to make it for your mom when you go home, she’ll love it.

“I’ll text it to you later, don’t worry.”

You’re very sure the look on your face conveys the gratitude you feel and the rest of the meal passes in a very comfortable and satisfied silence.

Twenty-ish minutes later, after letting your seconds settle for a couple minutes, Jungkook gets back to business.

“Next look is the most adventurous, it uses the facepaint. Are you okay with contacts?”

“I think so, never tried them before though. Just give me a few before we start so I don’t explode when I stand up.”

“All good,” he says, before quirking a lip and adding, “I really don’t feel like explaining why there’s kimchi and bits of you all over my walls to either of our parents, so take all the time you need.”

You laugh, firstly at the visual, then at the idea of Jungkook meeting your mother. That would be something you needed on record, paper and film.

After a minute, you get up, the guest room making your acquaintance once more.

“This one is called Enigmatic,” Jungkook calls.

“Got it!”

You take longer than normal to change, maybe eating before putting on the skin tight shirt wasn’t a great idea. But at least it was stretchy.

It has long sleeves, a high neck, and is a very dark midnight black. There’s a matching black scarf for this one too, and a safety pin attached to the corner.

“Okay, what's the plan for this one? I hear facepaint is involved,” you say, back for round three, scarf in hand.

The background of the set is black now, a close match to your shirt. Jungkook is by the smoke machine, currently set up on the stool and plugged into a nearby outlet.

You hold up the scarf, questioningly.

“That’s to go over your head after the paint, but let’s see if you can do contacts first, they’re in the washroom. Need help?”

“No, I'm good.”

You don’t succeed at first, but after a couple attempts you look in the mirror and see purple eyes staring back at you. You love them.

“I look like a badass,” you say, returning. The smoke machine’s been turned on and it’s created a completely different atmosphere. At your reemergence, Jungkook shuts it off and comes close to give you a look. You freeze a little at the eye contact, his browns meeting your currently violets for a prolonged moment.

“They look better than I’d hoped, this is going to be great.”

He reaches under the gels on the table for a piece of paper. It’s a makeup model face with the look he wants drawn on. “Are you able to do something like this?”

The diagram shows the cheeks, bottom half of the nose and down all the way to the neck as black, and the eyes and up as white, bleeding down into the black like smoke. You’re going to need eyeshadow for that part. If you did that with the face paint it would just become a gray mess.

“Yep, but it’s going to take some time to get it right.”

“That’s okay, I’ll use it to get the smoke machine properly set up.”

You use one of the palette mirrors and start with the white, covering the top of your face and making a good base layer for the eyeshadow. Then fill the bottom of your face and neck with the black. Carefully, so as to not make gray, you use a large brush to cover both sides with their respective eyeshadow shades, before blending them together like the reference. Your skin starts to feel like it’s on fire by the time you're satisfied and you check your phone for the time when you finally finish.

4:37pm.

Not bad. You put the scarf over your head and cover your ears with it, using the safety pin to hold it in place.

“Done.”

Jungkook takes one look at you and lights up.

“Have I ever mentioned how talented you are, and that you make my schoolwork so much more fun? Because I feel like I should again even if I already have.” Your cheeks heat, glad he’s excited you’re able to help. “How did you manage to make it look even better?”

“I do vaguely remember mentioning something about a deal with a semi-suspicious genie,” you joke. And both of you break out in giggle fits after a second, recalling the conversation from forever ago.

Running through the same steps of lighting, posing, and adjustments, Jungkook then flips on the smoke machine and lets it fill the room heavily before starting to take pictures.

You’re sitting on a small box this time, so that you’re slightly lower than the camera. Jungkook tells you to keep your hands at your sides and look up, just above the rim of the camera lens. It creates a very interesting look, and you're excited to see the results.

He has you do a couple more poses before allowing you to do your own thing once more, trying to think of what would look mysterious and enigmatic.

You try to let the music inspire you. This is a look you’ve never done before, so you’re finding it a bit difficult to get into it despite Jungkook's helpful prompts and suggestions. But you flow a bit better with it as time goes on and you become more comfortable.

An idea pops up out of nowhere and you have him do a close up from the middle of your chin to the middle of your forehead. You stare straight into the lens to really showcase the purple contacts and makeup.

“This’s the one for sure,” he says, taking a few more. “Great idea, why didn’t I think of a close up in the first place?” You know he's talking to himself at this point.

It’s close to 6:15pm when Jungkook decides he has enough pictures for this look. You don’t mind the longer shoot seeing as you set aside the day for this, and you can’t wait to see how these ones turn out in particular.

You’re halfway through getting the face paint off, a mountain of gray stained cotton pads beside you, when Jungkook turns the music down.

“Let’s do a light, early dinner and then shoot the last one?” he asks. “I kept this one at the end because it’s going to create the most mess and it’ll be nice to have dinner out of the way for when I have to clean up.”

“More mess than this?” you point to the cotton pad mountain.

“Much more.”

“Light, early dinner it is,” you confirm, not wanting to have to wait till late to eat. “But can we order out so I have time to get the rest of this off?”

“Sure, what’ll it be?”

Clean faced, moisturized and ramyeon filled, you and Jungkook are preparing for the last shoot. Or well, lightly arguing.

“Water?”

“Mhm.”

“On me?”

“Yep.”

“From that thing,” you point to the contraption he calls a c-stand that will be holding the very full, very large watering can over your head for an extended amount of time, “And into there?” you point again to the kitty pool on top of the tarp that’s underneath the watering can c-stand.

“That is the plan,” he looks amused at your slight distress.

“Are you nuts? What if it falls on me? How do I know it won’t unhinge and I’ll have a nicely cracked open skull to explain to my mother on Solstice break?”

“It won’t fall and you know it won't because you trust me and trust I wouldn’t put you in unnecessary danger. But if it does, tell your mom I say hi and sorry.”

You scoff at him, unbelievable. “So you admit there’s a bit of danger!”

Jungkook sighs, and looks to the ceiling. “Yes, YN. There is a touch of danger. But that’s only if, somehow, the c-stand I have triple safety checked, duct taped twice, and quadruple secured with four fifteen pound sandbags, decides that you deserve a watering can to the head.”

You side eye his tone. This wasn’t an unrealistic worry. But you do trust him. And trust he would never intentionally put you in any danger.

The trees are set up near the backdrop that looks like a row of brick houses. The shot is supposed to be ‘The Calm after Before the Storm,’ where you look relieved and happy in an ‘outside’ setting while ‘rain’ falls over you, also in black and white.

“Fine, but if I hear one peep from that thing,” c-stand staring down the tip of your finger once more, “I’m tuck and rolling and taking you out while I do it.”

“Very fair!” he says relieved, and goes to set up the stand with the watering can.

You’d changed into the neutral V neck after dinner, and he’s asked for no makeup. So all you have to do now is stand and pose while trying not to die from foreign objects falling from the sky while you get wet.

Easy, right?

Wrong.

It is incredibly difficult, and you’re glad he made this one last because you’re at best; slightly miserable. Only the promise of a hot shower, hot chocolate with whip cream and marshmallows and your pick of whatever you watch afterward is keeping you going.

You started this one just shy of 8pm after waiting 45 minutes for the food. And it’s nearing 9:30 now. Jungkook has had to refill the watering can four times, dump the kiddie pool twice, and you swear if you don’t finish within the next twenty minutes, you’re going to collapse from shivering.

To be fair, he does fill the watering can with warm water, but it only stays warm for so long before freezing water is pouring on you for the millionth time tonight.

“I have one last idea, and by the way, I’m never doing this concept again so don’t worry about that, but also… don’t shut down the idea immediately okay?” Jungkook says.

The watering can is almost empty again and you’re relieved that your time is almost up. That in itself should make for a good picture. He snaps it.

But his tone makes you a little wary, “Okay… what is it?”

“Pretend I’m Nel and you’re seeing me for the first time in six months, like you do at the end of April.”

Well, you didn’t have that down on your photo shoot prompt bingo card.

Are you okay with the idea? You aren’t sure, but aren’t not sure either.

“I mean, I’ll try. Maybe you could give vocal cues to try and help? But don’t make it weird.”

“I won’t, promise,” Jungkook pauses for a second before adding, “Does he call you baby?”

You nod, and you distantly hear and ‘okay’ as you slowly allow yourself to get into that headspace.

You start, and the camera starts going.

You’re in the airport, waiting for Nel, ‘smoosh’ paper in hand. The gate opens, and through all the other passengers you see him, see that he’s in one piece, see that he’s safe.

Your face illuminates with relief at that so much so that you don’t even notice the water that starts running down your face.

You hear a ‘hi baby’ and in your head, it’s coming from Nel’s mouth as he nears you. You smile impossibly wider at the thought of seeing him, feeling him. Having him here with you.

You look happy to see me, ‘Nel’ says.

“I am,” you reply.

There’s repetitive clicking in the distance, but you ignore it. It’s probably just a flight attendant's heels on the floor.

“I missed you.”

There’s a long moment of silence before Nel speaks again.

I missed you too, baby.

You’re shivering hard now, lost in thought, unaware of reality.

YN, Nel calls.

“Yes, love?”

“YN.”

“Babe, what is it?”

“YN, hey,” you're being shaken gently.

“Hmm? What?” you slowly arrive back to the present. Strong hands grip your shoulders. They feel nice. Solid. Deliciously warm.

A very concerned looking Jungkook comes into focus, camera dangling around his neck and reaching for you.

Oh.

He’s the one holding your shoulders, trying to get you to come back to reality.

“There she is, welcome back,” he lets go and grabs a blanket from somewhere and wraps it around you. “We got the shot, go take a shower and warm up okay?”

“Okay,” you say, still a little dazed, but present enough to function.

You step out of the pool, holding on to the hand Jungkook offers to balance—Warm. Solid. Strong—and head straight for the bathroom, making a pit stop in the guest room to grab your bag with fresh clothes.

The hot water cements your place back in reality, letting it warm you up and cleanse you of the day.

You have no idea what just happened with that whole Nel thing, but it was a new feeling and a new headspace and you really aren’t in the mood to analyze or acknowledge, so it’s shoved onto a top shelf in the back of your mind for a later date.

Once you're able to return to the directory of your mind, you don’t know how long you’ve been in the shower. But you know you’re clean, no longer cold, and in the mood for hot chocolate, so you step out and dry yourself with the towels Jungkook laid out for you on the toilet seat.

They’re soft. So soft in fact you consider only for a second shoving one in your now less full bag to take home with you. However, you do rather enjoy your friendship with the prince, so you think better of it upon second thought.

Dressing in your sweats, you exit, tossing the towels in the hamper and your bag of the clothes you arrived in back into the spare room.

“Better?” Jungkook asks as you sit down in your spot on the couch for the last time tonight, wrapping up in the blanket he left for you. He’s in the kitchen but heard you coming.

“Much, thanks,” you sniff, “Is that hot chocolate I smell?”

Jungkook returns from the kitchen, two mugs in hand. “With extra whip cream and marshmallows, as ordered.”

You carefully take it from him, giving your thanks and happily slurping away the second it’s in your grasp.

“Alright Caravaggio, what are we watching?” he asks, sitting down on his side, sipping away on his own.

Sometime between you leaving for the shower and coming back out Jungkook changed into his own comfy attire, and tidied up the studio space as the pool and tarp are nowhere to be seen.

“I’ve thought really hard about this, all of however long I was in the shower,” Jungkook mutters something about 35 minutes; you ignore him, “And have settled on ‘A Miser Brothers Solstice’.”

He whines just a little when he says, “But it’s November.”

“So?”

“So, Solstice isn’t until the third week of December,” he’s saying this like his point is the most obvious thing in the world.

It’s not.

“Your point?”

“That it’s November, and you want to watch a Solstice movie.”

You’re mockingly outraged.

“Who made you town grinch? I didn’t realize we had a holiday hater in our midst.”

You loved the holidays, all the big ones, and the small ones, but Solstice was special.

“I’m not a grinch, I’m just not there yet, mentally.”

“Then get ready to dive in head first, because you said I could pick the movie for risking my life for you and I pick ‘A Miser Brothers Solstice’.”

Jungkook doesn’t argue further, but he does roll his eyes as he puts on your movie with a small smile hidden behind his drink.

It’s sometime during the first act, you’re lying back against your corner of the couch, feet up and under the blanket when you ask, “What are your solstice break plans?”

Jungkook takes a moment to part from the TV, very invested for someone who was so against it half an hour ago. “I have a lot of ‘princely duties’ to do for Solstice, like standing and looking thoughtful while my dad gives his annual Solstice speech,” you snort. “Then there’s the palace dinner, the parade through the capital, and the live televised event,” he says in a tv announcer's voice, “Where my family and I light the Solstice Star. And then there’s the new year and that in itself has another long list of things I have to do. Besides things like that though? Not much, and then it’s back here.”

Right.

You often forget who he is.

That behind those kind eyes, and small smiles, behind the greenhouse study dates, and movie nights, and photoshoots, Jungkook has an enormous responsibility constantly looming over his head, counting down the days until he finishes his schooling. One that’s just waiting to drop onto his shoulders forever.

You often forget that Jungkook is the Prince, first in line to the biggest throne in the realm. That you spend your time with not only Jeon Jungkook, friend and photography student, but also, His Royal Highness, Prince Jeon Jungkook, Heir Apparent and Future King of The Western Shores.

He just makes it so damn easy to forget.

You only asked because you thought maybe he had plans with friends or family, completely forgetting about all of the things the royal family does during the holiday season to celebrate with the nation, their people, and now you feel like an ass for even bringing it up.

But there’s something in his answer, or lack thereof, that snags your attention.

“What about celebrating with your family and friends in private?”

“No time,” Jungkook’s stare goes distant as he brings his knees up and puts his arms around them, resting his chin. “Friends are always busy with palace preparations and dad’s not really the sentimental type. We celebrated when I was younger; big family breakfast, presents, tree decorating, whole thing. But after I turned about 13 or so, it started dwindling pretty quickly. Now it’s just me and my mom exchanging a gift with each other at midnight under the palace tree.”

You don’t think you’ve ever heard something so heartbreaking yet beautiful in your life.

“Your mum sounds wonderful, I’m really happy you two get that time together.”

He looks at you, and you can tell by the look in his eyes he loves that time with her more than anything else.

Solstice is supposed to be the time you spend with your family, blood or chosen. The time where you all gather to cook and bake, and exchange thoughtful gifts with the ones you love. The time where you truly cherish one another and count yourself lucky for all that you have.

Solstice is your favourite time of the year.

To not spend it like that just seems…wrong. Horribly, painfully, awfully wrong.

“What about you?” he asks.

You don’t want to make him feel bad, so you tone down your answer, taking away the meat and giving the bones.

“My mum and I cut down our own tree and decorate it with the ornaments we’ve collected over the years,” you have them from every place you’ve ever visited, and your mum kept all the ones you ever made as a kid. You even get a new one every solstice to take a picture for and label with the year.

“Then we bake solstice cookies until our hands cramp and survive off only them until solstice dinner; a turkey, honey glazed carrots, mashed potatoes with gravy, essentially if it waters your mouth, it’s there,” he chuckles at that. “We do gifts for each other too, opening them on solstice morning before making hot drinks and reading in the breakfast nook until the sun sets or till we get hungry, whichever comes first.”

Jungkook's eyes glow, radiating warmth, a lazy smile on his face as he listens to you.

“That sounds really nice, YN.”

“It is,” you reply, looking him in those radiant eyes as you do. He looks… happy. Happy for you, that you get to have something like this that’s so special. It breaks your heart a little…maybe you can help.

“You wanna make some solstice cookies with me before break?”

His look of happy shifts to one of slight panic.

“What?” you question, and comically ask, “Have you never made solstice cookies before?”

He hesitates before answering a very quiet, “Uh…N-no.”

Your shock must be incredibly evident in the way he almost flinches at your reaction.

So you try your best to keep your voice level when you ask, “What do you mean, no?”

“I mean no. I’ve never made solstice cookies.”

That’s it. You can’t hold back any more, you’ve never heard anything so blasphemous in all your life.

“You’ve never what? How is that even possible?”

He shrinks into himself a little more.

“The palace pastry chef always makes them because that’s kind of his job,” you stare at him in disbelief. “Is this really that big a deal?”

You swear there’s cog’s and smoke flying out of your ears. Solstice cookies are a religion in your household. You know dozens of recipes by heart, always finding a new one each year to try and up your game. You cannot imagine a solstice without making them. Wait no, actually you can, but it would be because you’re dead.

You held back in your answer earlier, for his sake, but you and your mom’s hands cramp up because you make enough cookies to give a box to everyone in the neighborhood. It’s one of your favourite traditions, and your neighbours even look forward to it every year, going so far as sending you both recipes to try out.

“Big dea—you’ve never fucking mad—not even when you were little? No one brought you to the kitchen and let you help? Aren't all your friends back home the pastry chefs' kids or something?” You don’t mean to sound harsh, but your tone is a little more passionate than you were intending.

But Jungkook knows you, knows you occasionally get that passionate about things, and takes your outburst in stride.

“Yeah, one of them is, but we don't sit around the oven and make cookies all break long. And his dad is always too busy to teach us even if we wanted to.”

You decide something. Right then and there.

“This year you are.”

“What?”

“Mark your last Saturday off because I'm going to show up here, ingredients-a-plenty and teach you how to make solstice cookies. I have a million recipes up here,” you tap your head with a finger, “But I'll choose the easiest ones. And I’ll come over early so we can spend the day making all of them. I can’t in good conscience leave for the break knowing you’ve never made them.”

He sighs. “Do I have any say in the matter?”

“Absolutely not.”

Jungkook stares at you and you can’t figure out what he’s thinking. You’re worried he’s going to say no anyway. To say you’re crazy and that they’re just cookies and that he has more important things he has to do on his Saturday before leaving for home.

But he doesn’t. And you should’ve known he wouldn’t, not after all the time you’ve spent together.

You know better. Know him better.

“Alright Picasso. Sounds like a plan. I’m looking forward to it,” he decides, and goes back to watching the movie.

It’s the first time he’s ever repeated a nickname.

“Wait! The wind guy wants to replace who?!” Jungkook shouts.

You laugh at his confusion, and rewind the movie.

Jungkook wakes up sore.

His back is killing him, which makes sense since he’s half lying on the couch, half on the ground.

The TV’s silently playing some slideshow of movie recommendations based on recent watches.

He checks his phone, reaching for it on the coffee tale.

14% battery.

4:07am.

Shit, he fell asleep.

After the solstice movie he wanted to watch its predecessor. You had no qualms and so on it went, but he doesn’t remember much after the brothers started fighting.

Hearing soft, even breathing next to him he turns to see you, hunched over in your spot asleep, no doubt in the process of ruining your own back.

He should go to bed.

You should go to bed.

But you’ve never stayed the night.

What should he do? Should he wake you?

But you look so peaceful. And it’s nearing exams. You barely sleep when it’s exams season.

Instead, Jungkook goes to check the guest room, but it’s a mess with yesterday's comings and goings. Make-up and clothes and hangers strewn everywhere.

Quietly, making a decision he hopes you won’t kill him for in the morning, he pads back to your sleeping form.

It’s for your back, he tells himself. No other reason.

Deja vu sets in as he scoops you up from the couch, blanket and all. Just like last time, you gain enough consciousness to know to wrap your arms around his neck, but not enough to wake up. Your head rests on his shoulder and he selfishly savours the feeling as he walks down the short hallway to his room.

Jungkook sets you down gently on one side of the bed, and your arms release, slumber undisturbed as he tucks you in.

He goes back to the living room to retrieve your phones. Yours is still at 56%, and he places it on the table beside you when he returns.

Climbing into his side of the bed, he’s careful not to touch you.

Though he wants to.

Desperately.

His sleep deprived brain is too slow to block out the thoughts that start to race. Thoughts of how he wants to turn around and pull you into his chest, slide an arm around your waist, and kiss you goodnight. How he wants to wake up in the same position, you still in his arms.

But he’s also awake enough to know that will never happen. That you’re with Nel, and happy with him. That he’s drawn that nice, big line.

He’s awake enough to know you being in his bed is a fluke, unintentional.

A one time thing.

Plugging his phone into its charger, he sets it down on his own bedside table and pulls the covers up, falling back asleep.

His back facing you.

An exhale wakes you.

Warm and cozy, you take a deep breath and roll to your left side, stretching on the way over. The scents of clean linen and something familiar find you. It’s comforting, that smell, but you can’t place it.

Another exhale, but this time you feel it as well as hear it.

You open your eyes to see a sleeping Jungkook face not a foot from your own and you jolt in shock, falling off the bed in the process.

You look up from your new seat on the floor, ignoring the pain in your side from landing, and peer over the covers to check on Jungkook, who, miraculously, hasn’t woken up from your tumble.

Relieved, your mind focuses on more pressing questions like ‘how did you get here?’ And ‘why were you in his bed?’

The last thing you remember was being halfway through the prequel to A Miser Brothers Solstice on the couch, watching Jungkook more than the movie because of how invested he’d become in the story.

But you aren’t on the couch now. You were in his bed.

The bed of the Prince of the Western Shores.

The Prince who has a girlfriend, and you, who has a very long term, very serious boyfriend.

You hear a vibration, and following the sound, you find your phone on the bedside table.

You quickly grab it quickly and go to the living room as quietly as you can manage.

There’s a large number of unread texts.

SlurryYuri [11:08pm]: hey, just checking in. You didn’t get home when you said you’d try for SlurryYuri [11:31pm]: Helloooooooo? YN? You there? SlurryYuri [12:14am]: it’s getting late YN, when are you coming home? Are you on your way?

Missed Calls: (3)

SlurryYuri [2:43am]: it’s been hours, so you better be dead or have crashed in the school somewhere. Either way I’m kicking your ass when you get home

Missed Calls: (2)

(Recent)

SlurryYuri [9:36am]: you’re still not home?? YN seriously, where are you SlurryYuri [10:23am]: If you don’t message me back in an hour I’m calling the police and filing a missing persons

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. You crashed hard, the shoot must have taken more out of you than you thought, so you never texted Yuri you were going to crash in a sleep pod at school like you’d planned too.

You make quick work of messaging her back, glad she unintentionally gave you just the excuse you needed.

YN [10:25am]: ohmygod I’m soooooo sorry, it was the school one. I fell asleep in the school. I’m sorry for worrying you. I’ll be home soon, promise. I’m just going to grab breakfast first. Again im sorry

SlurryYuri [10:27am]: thank the gods youre okay!! Don’t ever do that to me again YN! I don’t wanna be the one who has to break news to your mom!! She’s too nice. SlurryYuri [10:27am]: and take your time getting back if your rushing for me, I’m not at the dorm SlurryYuri [10:27am]: Tai showed up yesterday out of the blue and took me dancing. We’re out getting brunch right now, and he has plans for the rest of the day SlurryYuri [10:28am]: Im just glad you’re not dead in a ditch somewhere

YN [10:29am]: me too, and okay I will. Thanks for checking up on me and making sure im safe, youre my favourite

SlurryYuri [10:30am]: damn right I am, see you tn <3

YN [10:30am]: see you <3

You exhale deeply, that was fucking close.

Your stomach rumbles and it reminds you that you actually need to get breakfast.

What could you have? You could order in again, but that means a wait time and you are hungry now. You could raid Jungkook's pantry, or see if he has any fruit, but then you think that’s a gross invasion of privacy when it’s not movie night and you haven’t asked if it’s okay.

Wait.

The egg tarts!

You dash to the fridge, the marvellous sight of a greenhouse inside a coffee mug comes into view. Stuffing one down before you even get the box from the fridge, you exit the kitchen, sit down on the couch, setting the box on the coffee table. Once opened in front of you, you realize there is a healthy amount of tarts inside.

How many did Jungkook ask for?

Speaking of, a bed-headed, yawning Jungkook makes his morning debut, still in last night's clothes.

“Hey,” he says groggily, walking over and stealing a tart.

“Hey!” you say back, not nearly as friendly.

“Overnight tax, Picasso. Room isn’t free.” He chuckles at your faux outrage, popping half the tart in his mouth as he walks to the kitchen and grabs something from the fridge. Returning, you see it’s a morning protein shake.

Gross.

“So is that name the one you’re sticking to now?” you ask, picking up another tart. At this rate they won’t last until lunch.

“Yeah, that okay with you? It’s your name in my phone after all.”

“It is?” You didn’t know that.

“Yeah, has been since the start.”

You’re quickly learning that sleepy morning Jungkook is very different from morning post work-out Jungkook, friend Jungkook and photographer Jungkook. His voice is deeper, he’s a lot more relaxed, and maybe even harmlessly borderline flirty, like he’s not all there yet. Softer.

“Picasso’s just fine. A compliment really.”

“Oh? And what am I in your’s then? Hopefully something just as nice?”

You tell him like it is.

“PJK.”

“PJK?” he asks, incredulous.

“Yeah? It’s obscure enough to not be recognizable if someone were to see it, but enough for me to know who it is.”

“Nah, you need something better, PJK is boring.”

“It’s your initials.”

“And boring,” he’s really not letting up on this.

“Well...what would you save yourself as?”

He mulls it over for a minute before deflating. “Okay, fair point, but I seriously want a new one. Something that can rival Picasso.”

“Do you have any nicknames? Something not completely obvious?”

For a morning person, Jungkook sure is taking his time. Maybe he was only a morning person before 8am, and then if he got up anytime after that he became a normal person who despised mornings like everyone else.

“Uhh…Vivian calls me JK, but that’s essentially the same thing as PJK. My buddies back home sometimes call me Kook, but I don’t think that works either. My mum has one for me that I will not disclose to anyone so long as I am breathing. So I guess not.”

A lightbulb dings over your head. “What about your security? Don’t they have special code names for you when they detail you? Like bear or eagle?”

“Yeah, but it’s not nearly as badass as either of those.”

“Fess up,” you say. Now you have to know.

“Hare.”

“Hare?” Now it’s your turn to be incredulous. “Like a rabbit?”

“Yep.”

An idea pops into your head and an evil grin spreads across your face, one you know is already setting worry into Jungkook’s still awakening brain as you change his name.

“I don’t like that look,” he confirms. “What’d you change it to?”

You flip your phone around and hold it up to him.

“Bunny?” he says incredulously once again.

“Yes.”

“I give you Picasso, one of the greatest painters of all time, and you think giving me bunny is anywhere near on par with that?”

Teasing him is far too fun, especially when he makes it this easy for you.

“Oh absolutely. In fact, I think it’s the best name I could possibly set it as.”

Jungkook disagrees, vehemently. “No, change it back. PJK is fine.”

“Too late. You dug your grave, now lie in it.”

Jungkook brings a hand to his face, pinching the crease between his brows and takes a very long, deep breath, exhaling just as dramatically.

You take that as your victory. But you’re sorely mistaken.

He launches at you, reaching for your phone and you scream, reaching your arm to keep it away from him. You have a fox socked foot on his chest to try and keep him back. His right arm is holding him up near your hip on the couches edge and he’s reaching with his left as far as he can without breaking his sternum on your heel.

“Give it!”

“Never!”

You try to bring up your other foot to push him away, but Jungkook is strong, and forces both it and the one on his chest down with the arm that was supporting him, temporarily keeping himself up with his left hand on the back of the couch.

With your legs out of the way he can almost reach his phone. But in his distracted state, misses the couch when he goes to put his supporting arm down again, and flips onto the ground, taking you with him. You scream, but his arms wrap around you as he makes sure to take the brunt of the impact, landing on his back, you safely secured to his chest.

There’s a moment of pure stunned silence, you resting your forhead on his chest while you process, him not letting go of your waist as he gets a breath into his winded self, before you’re both laughing as you take in what happened.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, you?”

He takes a second to respond. “I’m great.”

You push to sit up, and he releases you from his hold, but that was a mistake. Because now you’re sitting on his lap.

It takes an entire three seconds of you staring at him and him staring right back before you jump and scramble off him as fast as you can.

“Sorry.” you say in unison, you standing and him from the ground. It’s a painfully awkward 8 seconds before you break, cackling at the whole situation, and he joins in with you again.

Jungkook brushes off his pants as he gets up too. “Got any plans before tonight,” he asks, business as usual.

“Nope, cleared my schedule in case this went long, I’ve got the whole day.”

You swear his smile grows two sizes.

“Well in that case,” he looks to the TV, then back to you, “Wanna start movie night early?”

An entire day to relax and chill out before the hell that is exams season takes your every free second?

Yes please.

“Solstice movie marathon?” you propose slyly, near devious.

“I’ll get the popcorn,” he confirms, already halfway to the kitchen.

You spend the day like that, on the couch watching movie after movie, both pretending the little incident never even happened.

But you make sure to go home after movie night this time.

Chapter Nine: Sugar Cookies and Devious Confessions

A/N 2: This chapter kicked my ass but it's here and I couldn't be more thrilled. I really like how it's ended so I hope you guys do too.

A/N 3: As always, Thank you for reading, loves. Xoxo - Yoon <3

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urinarythreatinfection · 5 months ago

Note

YOO what up!! You should def do some luffy x reader stuff. Safe for work plz I’d love angst or just some good hcs. I always wondering how he’d react when you like argue with him and you like flinch or back down and how it’d play out.

Thx pookie

Sorry for taking a bit, it's the weekday and I have school (I also stayed up watching videos on bloodborne lore on sunday). Anyway as apology I'll let you choose how this goes. Option'll be at the end.

Kindness Isn't Spineless.

Luffy x gn!reader angst. 1,088 words. Part 1.

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

“Again…” You look inside the fridge and sigh, the leftovers you had got eaten again. You know exactly who it was . This had been happening for a while now, the first time it happened you told yourself it was okay, the second you said it was okay again, the third you finally talked to Luffy to ask him to stop, this is now the 4th time. You don’t even know why you bother at this point. Closing the door to the fridge you leave the kitchen and see Luffy fishing with Usopp, seeing them talking happily makes you feel worse; like you’re the dumb one getting upset over some missing food while he’s unaffected. “Dammit…” You end up just leaving to go to your room, not wanting to sour their mood with your own unhappiness. After shutting the door behind you, you flop onto the bed and sigh. You keep telling yourself the same things you have before, it’s just food, Luffy is more important than some leftovers, no need to get upset over something so small… but it’s not making you feel any better. Not when something so simple as continuing to eat your leftovers shows so little respect. “Maybe.. Maybe I should try telling him again, maybe he’ll listen this time.” You mumble to yourself and get up, walking out of your room and going back to where Luffy and Usopp were fishing. “Luffy?”

“Mm?” He hums.

“Can we talk for a bit in my room?” You ask him and he’s silent for a moment before turning his head to look at you.

“Can you wait? I’m fishing right now.” Is his response, your heart sinks and you consider saying yes, but decide to steel your heart and refuse.

“No, the fish aren’t going to disappear. You can continue fishing after we’re done.” You manage to muster out. He sighs and gets up, following you to your room. Once you’re inside, closing the door, you confront him. “You ate my leftovers again.”

“Oh, yeah I did. Oops.” He says, way too casually for him to care.

“Luffy I told you it wasn’t nice to do that, I don’t want you eating my leftovers. Sanji already makes you a lot of food and those leftovers were ones I got from the last island we went to. I was really looking forward to them since it was a specialty there.” You explain.

“Yeah, they were really good.” He responds, and you frown. Luffy’s acting so uncaring about all of this, he isn’t even being stupidly happy about it. Usually when he’s caught eating something that wasn’t his he fights about it, trying to weasel his way out of getting scolded; but this is just straight up rude.

“Luffy…?” You call his name, not believing what you’re hearing.

“Yeah?” The captain yawns. “Can I go now?”

“Luffy, what's wrong with you? You’re acting weird.” This is stressing you out.

“You’re the one acting weird, it’s just food. You can just get something else, maybe ask Sanji to make you something.” His words make you scowl slightly, you’re trying to stay calm but he’s being so disrespectful it hurts. It hurts and it’s making you angry.

“Why are you being so rude, did I do something?”

“Hmm…” Luffy puts a hand to his chin. “Well I mean it doesn’t matter anyway.” You tilt your head in confusion. “Cuz you’re just gonna forgive me, even if I keep doing it. So there’s no point in being all sorry about it, yeah?” You stare at Luffy in shock, he can be selfish at times sure but not like this; and not to a crewmate, this isn’t mentioning that you too are lovers as well.

“Luffy you’re being really mean, don’t say that.” You say, your eyebrows furrowing into a pained expression. “You’re hurting me.” Black eyes look away, not even bothering to meet your gaze. “Look at me, Luf, don’t just look away. Please?” He doesn’t respond. “Luffy! Please don’t do this to me. I’m sorry for getting mad at you, don't just ignore me like this…”

“You’re so spineless.” He finally responds with a frown and your heart sinks. “I don’t like it, you’re not even trying. It’s kinda um…” Luffy looks for a word in his head before it pops into his mind. “You’re really pathetic!” A smile forms on his face.

“Luffy!” You yell

“It’s true though. I liked you because you never backed down for what you believed in, but now that we’re dating you don’t even do anything to me. It’s annoying seeing you so much of a coward where you back down at any argument with me. I don’t like it.” Once he’s done there’s silence for a bit, Luffy’s about to try and continue when you stop him.

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” You apologize and he perks up, but you don’t end it there. “I should’ve known, you don’t like cowards or crybabies. I don’t blame you, so we don’t have to be together anymore.”

“Wait, you-” He’s interrupted.

“No Luffy, I get it. You’ve made it clear enough that you don’t like me.” You talk as you start to move him out of your room. He tries to reach for you when you go to shut the door on him but you flinch away like he’s lashing out. It shocks him to freeze, giving you the chance to shut the door and lock it.

The captain stares at the door, spaced out before he snaps out of it. ‘...I think I messed up.’ Luffy thinks to himself and knocks on the door, but you don’t answer. He continues this for a while and considers breaking the door down but the image of you flinching away from him like he’d do something as horrible as hitting you is shaking his resolve. ‘I don’t want to see them do that again.’ He frowns, unhappy. His plan was to make you mad enough that you would gain confidence and grow a spine, but this went wrong. He made a mistake, or maybe this is really just you? Luffy doesn’t know, he hasn’t been in a relationship before, but he wants to know; and he wants you to tell him. You did so well when you didn’t back down and told him to follow you to talk, even when he was fishing. He was so relieved he even sighed, but now it’s all messed up and he’s stuck outside this door wondering if breaking it down will make things worse.

_____

The options are if he breaks down the door or not and whether you want this to have a happy or bittersweet ending (asker only). You dont have to say if you dont want tonyou can also just tell me to continue if you dont want the choice.

#one piece #luffy x reader #angst #monkey d. luffy #fanfiction #one piece x reader

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lonesome-sometimes · 3 months ago

Text

up on the bookshelf

wheels on the bus 2 and it’s completely different because there is no bus or any form of transport at all really and matty is a librarian but it’s still wheels on the bus 2 (in the brat remix album cover format)

that was until a certain someone sitting behind the librarian desk caused you to drop them abruptly, sending a loud echo throughout the near silent building.

“matty?” you say in disbelief.

matty healy x female reader

content warnings: public sex, sweet service top matty, age gap, oral (female receiving), slight blood kink when you squint, lovey dovey stuff because I miss matty I’m genuinely a trainwreck right now

minors do not interact!

with your reading list in one hand, you huff in annoyance as you fail to find the last few textbooks you needed for the rest of the semester. admitting your defeat, you carry the rest of your books towards the front desk, already dreading the walk back to campus on the other side of town.

that was until a certain someone sitting behind the librarian desk caused you to drop them abruptly, sending a loud echo throughout the near silent building.

“matty?” you say in disbelief.

he looks up from the book he was engrossed in, startled by the loud thud. he takes a second to register who you were, scrambling to push his bookmark into place before turning his full attention towards you. “y/n? oh my go- hey! hey, how are you? god, I haven’t seen you since-”

“since the really, really long and awkward bus ride home with your wife in our presence after you-” you explain nonchalantly, causing the older to choke on his own spit as you remind him of your rest stop bathroom antics, not that he had ever forgotten.

he laughs nervously, pushing a hand through his shorter curls. “I mean, I guess? anyway, what are you doing here?”

“oh, I go to college here.” you say like its obvious, gesturing to nothing as you look around the empty room. “I just hate our campus library, or just our campus in general I suppose, so I come here to study and take my books out. It’s much quieter here, campus is too…studenty?”

he laughs with you, chuckling softly at how ridiculous it sounded. “I get your point, but aren’t you meant to like, enjoy all of that?” he thinks for a moment, shaking his head softly. “nevermind, that’s not the point. this is crazy, what a nice surprise I-”

“you have a moustache now.” you observe out loud, your tongue working quicker than your brain as your eyes lingered on his upper lip and the new strip of hair there, moving down towards the tight sleeves of his grey tshirt and admiring the way it hugged his frame perfectly. “...and you look like you’ve been working out…don’t tell me you…”

his cheeks tinge pink, swinging his chair slightly away from you as he lets out a nervous breath. “I told he, I mean, not about us! not exactly, I just told her how I felt and here I now am, working day shifts at the local library, waiting for my whole music thing to take off, while she vacates on some island somewhere with her neeew husband.” he draws out the new, politely taking a book from an older lady and wishing her a nice day, turning back towards you. “I’m happy here though, the people are nice and well, you’re here.”

It’s your turn to blush at his words, forgetting how sweet he had been with you in the bathroom moments after he had fucked your throat raw. “oh, come on matty, it’s not like you sat and dreamt about me everyday like a fairytale princess waiting for her prince to come…” you half joke half admit about yourself, causing his cheeks to turn a darker shade of pink at the comparison, his secrets spilling without having even said anything.

“oh I seeee.” you singsong as you lean forward, putting your hands on the desk so that you were leaning over him, letting your oversized tshirt fall off your shoulder slightly and revealing your collarbone. not the most flattering outfit you could have worn, but you weren’t exactly expecting your random one bus stand to show up anytime soon. “been thinking about me, matty?”

he visibly swallows, opening his mouth to answer but instead his eyes widen as a mother and daughter approach the desk. you stand up straight again, slightly embarrassed as you pull your tshirt centre again. you watch the exchange, matty smiling ever so sweetly as he hands the young girl her picture book and again wishes them a lovely day. he turns to you once more, sighing softly. “darling, I don’t think now is a good time, I’m working and-”

“matty, I managed to seduce you into fucking my throat with enough time for small talk afterwards inside the bathroom of a service station during a twenty minute rest stop, all while your wife-”

“-ex wife.” he corrects, smiling softly.

“...ex wife, was sitting back on the bus unaware of how her sweet little husband was crying for me and asking me about my favourite radiohead album, and you’re gonna sit here and tell me you can’t have a private conversation with me because you’re at work?”

theres a moment of silence as he looks between you and the empty room, standing up suddenly and grabbing your hand as he pulls you back towards an abandoned section of the library. smiling wide, you expect him to push you up against one of the old bookcases and start kissing you like a man starved as he pulls you in front of him, but it never comes.

Instead, he pulls you in. hands coming up around your waist, he hugs you. unexpected and unsure of what to do at first, you let your arms come up around his shoulders, pulling him in closer as you stroke the hair on the back of his neck softly, letting him breathe you in as you stay silent for a moment.

he pulls away, the both of you laughing as you realise how ridiculous this is, not having shared more than ten minutes alone together that didn’t include a quickie in a restroom. “everything okay, matty?” you ask, pushing his hair away from his face and letting your hand rest against his cheekbones as he nods.

“I wanted to erm, thank you, for helping me realise things about my life and marriage, I might not look like anything special at the moment but since meeting you I’ve been able to find my own place, I have a kitten who I adore, and I actually get to work on my music I-” he stops. “I’m really happy y/n, and I owe that to you.”

for a second you’re worried he’s being completely serious. “m-matty, you surely can’t fully believe I’m to blame for all that, you barely even know me I-”

he starts kissing down your collarbone, letting your tshirt fall again as he sinks down down down till he’s almost kneeling in front of you, his hands coming up towards your tshirt, breathing heavy. “no really darling, thank you so, so much.” he breaths, punctuating each so with a wet kiss to your stomach, kissing and licking at each expanse of skin he can reach. your hand comes up to cover your mouth, the other moving to hold the back of hid head through the fabric of your shirt. somehow this felt much more intimate, more naughty, than the restroom ever did.

he reappears from under your shirt, staring up at you with complete adoration as his fingers dance up your thighs and hooking themselves into the waistband of your leggings. “can I please?” he asks ever so politely, although your pants are already being pulled down low enough so that he can access where he wanted before you had chance to answer. your face was on fire.

“been thinking about doing this since I met you, wanted to taste you so bad darling.” he breaths out against you sending goosebumps across your skin, lips so close to you as he teases before finally settling on your core.

you desperately try to stay quiet, the fact that you were both in a library being some sick torture and punishment for engaging in infidelity beforehand because good god was he good with his tongue, licking and sucking at your clit like he was desperate. his large hands almost enveloped your waist, holding you in place as he began to fuck you on his tongue up against the shelf behind you. you thread your fingers through his salt and pepper locks, frowning when it was a little too short to pull. still, you let your fingers stay where they were, your lips bitten red as you tried to conceal your noises.

suddenly he stops, pulling away from you with only a trail of spit connecting the two of you, lips glistening with your wetness. you look down, brows furrowed in confusion as you try and catch your breathe. “w-why’d you stop?”

he giggles before diving in again like a teenager, his hands moving to hook around the backs of your thighs now. you moan around your fist, desperatly trying to stay as quiet as you can but failing miserably. he shushes you, the vibration from his vocal chords not helping your situation as you feel yourself quickly approaching the edge. “m-matty I-”

he pulls away for a small second, eyes wide and hungry. “please cum for me darling, need to feel you cum on my tongue-” he begs, quickly diving back in as he licks you through your orgasm, groaning softly as he feels you clench around his tongue, lapping at your folds as he cleans up your orgasm.

“fuck-” you bring a finger up towards your lip, blood pooling on your tongue from where you had to bite to keep quiet unless you wanted the whole library to hear you. he pulls your leggings back up and over your thighs, the both of you silently thanking somebody for the fact that nobody was looking for cooking books. he smiles up at you dopily, allowing himself to catch his breath before standing back up.

“good?” he breaths out, pulling your bloodied finger to his lips to lick it clean. You couldn’t find the words to answer, nodding as you watch his lips sucking your fingers entranced. He pulls off them with a pop, smiling at the way he left you speechless.

you both forget where you are until an older male comes around the corner, causing you both to jump away from each other. he doesn’t suspect much, why would he? shooting you both a small smile before turning and going back the way he came, sending you both laughing.

“so…” he begins as your giggles come to a stop, shuffling from foot to foot nervously. “I don’t actually finish up in here for another hour, but I could drive you back to campus? your books seemed heavy, and I’m guessing you don’t have a car…”

god, you were so smitten for him and you had only spent less than an hour with him alone at most. “...or I could come to yours?”

he smiles, thinking for a moment as you two start walking back towards the desk, to no surprise the place was still pretty much empty. “wanna see a picture of lilah?”

you squeal at the idea of singing his kitten, sending apologies to nobody at the sudden loud noise coming from you once again. “yes please.” you nod and whisper, the idea of seeing both matty and lilah filling you with warmth.

you were right, the local library was definitely better than the campus library.

#matty healy smut #matty healy x reader #matty healy fic #the 1975 fic

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wayfayrr · 6 months ago

Text

Love like you ✧*.⚝⋆

Here's the 400 follower raffle grand prize for @wailing-whaler!! Got Sky and reader collecting rocks <3 This went a little off of the initial base, but they do definitely collect rocks together (what a geologist not going utterly obsessed with rocks? it's a miracle) But this was very fun to write!! just soft soft fluff with the soft sleepy boy himself.

[masterlist]

“I’m still sorry for dragging you into this by the way.”

“You aren’t, and you don’t need to keep apologising for something you would happily do again in a heartbeat.”

“I am - I really am, I didn’t mean to drag you here.”

“You are an awful liar.”

He drooped like a puppet cut from its strings at that, offended I bet for calling him out. Despite it being the truth, he knows as well as I do that he was bouncing from the walls when I was brought into the game, happier than I’ve ever seen anyone before in my life. And emotions are new for him, kinda.

“No- I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Hmph.”

“Come on, I’ve already said that I really don’t mind it, why are you still so pouty?”

“Cause I wanted to get out rather than trapping you here with me.”

Oh, that admission is new. He’s dodged the reason why he brought me here since it happened, so that makes sense more than anything… The way that he’s leaning on me is also new though, and nice despite his grumbles, which come to a halt as he snakes his arms around me and buries his head into my neck from behind with a soft sigh.

“Look it doesn’t really matter right now, you’ve got to save zelda right? So we should really get going, gaepora asked me to help you and I really don’t want to make a bad impression.”

That got me a squeeze and a little whine, does - does he not want to save her?

“But no matter how fast I am impa is going to tell me I’m late anyway, so why does it matter… I just wanna spend time with you.”

…

How does he know that..?How does he know what will happen??? He - this is his first time going through this journey… right? But it isn’t is it, even though he’s been trying to act like it is it’s not. I’ve played through this game once already, and he can remember that. The acceptance of it is like a cold chill down my spine, Link already knows me and has been pretending that he doesn’t, half-heartedly but still pretending. Or has he? Just because he hasn’t said it outright doesn’t mean that he’s trying to hide it, maybe he just assumed I knew already. Either way, would I be bothered by him hiding it? It’s not insidious or anything, he’s just like a lovesick puppy.

“...Love? You - are you alright? I didn’t say something wrong did I?”

“I was just thinking… link did you know about before?”

“Before? You mean your other playthrough right?”

Well that settles that, he wasn’t trying to hide it. It was just never mentioned, no reason for it to be honest. No one on skyloft needs to know their entire life is a game which could be very easily overheard on the tiny island and sky thought that I knew he knew so why reiterate the obvious already.

“Sure I didn’t remember completely right away but going through Faron with you here- here brought everything crashing back so quickly.”

His grip on my waist tightened for a split second before loosening, like he’s not sure if I’ll want to be held close now that he’s sharing this. It’s only made clearer by the sigh he lets out as he takes a step away from me.

“I mean I remember remembering you when I tried to get out now, it was like… like when you fell here, on skyloft that is, everything got locked away but since we met the elder kikwi, everything has come back including how felt about it all and how I fell in l-!”

“How you ‘fell in l-’, why’d you cut yourself off there link, I’d love to know what you were going to say.”

Almost by instinct, my head turns to follow him as he’s fumbling about in his own flustered embarrassment, having said just a tiny bit more than he’d probably meant. Stopping himself mid-word so sharply you’d think he’d bit his tongue to force himself to stop, but not soon enough that I didn’t know what he meant anyway.

I won’t lie to myself. It’s something strange to know, and honestly all of this is making way more questions than it answers. Questions that it will be pretty hard to get answers too really, for one he and I both know this is a game and yet I’m here - he’s practically a person and… and he’s said it himself. He fell in love with me. But, I don’t dislike that. I really don’t dislike that.

“I - I fell in love with you, and how you act and all the little things you do and how you make even the smallest things seem exciting, and it’s why I wanted out so badly so that I could hold you close and tell you how much I love every part of you, from the way your hair falls, to the way you smile, how you collect things that others wouldn’t see worth in but you give them so much worth. I can’t even tell you just how much I’ve wanted to get out even if just for a second to hand you a crystal or even a cute pebble I think would bring a smile to your face - even if it meant I’d go back to being trapped in this hell afterwards.”

My face feels like it’s about to set alight, and not from being on an active volcano. He’s still rambling about what made him fall for me, and it’s only getting more and more natural, he’s getting more and more human over time. More real. As with all good things though, it has to come to an end with him looking up only to realise that he’s been going on for a good few minutes now. Ceasing up like a deer in headlights as he struggles to move his mouth again, almost reflexively licking his lips before glancing down confusedly. Better to break through the awkwardness now so that it won’t get any worse.

“You know, I wouldn’t be against having a relationship with you…”

“- You wouldn’t - I thought that you… you’d… you’d-”

“But.”

“...b-but?”

“I think I’d like to get to know you first link.”

“Wh - What..?”

“Well, right now I haven’t spent much time with ‘you’ you, and I don’t think it’s fair for you if I’m dating you expecting to you to be exactly like the character the game had you as.”

It’s easy to tell he’s thinking about it, with the hurt but pensive look on his face from being denied something he so clearly wanted a yes to.

“But, I think I’ve been starting to fall for you too, for who you are link. I’d like to spend some more time with you before we have anything romantic.”

He perked up at that, a lot. Which I don’t blame him for.

“There’s plenty of time for that then, we aren’t in any rush are we?”

“But zelda-?”

“Even if we were to teleport to the end of the dungeon we’d still be too late. Why not take it slow?”

Despite his leather gauntlets his hands are still nice to hold with how he’s intertwined ours, sneaking his fingers so that they snake between mine. Pulling my hand up to rest up on his cheek, leaning into it with a gentle sigh.

“You’ve talked about wanting rocks from Eldin to study before, how it looked like a different volcano to anything you’ve ever seen. What if we just I don't know, went off and got you as many as you could ever want of them?”

His eyes look almost pleading, begging for me just to say yes, to give him this precious time so that he can win me over to being with him romantically. And really, how could I dream of saying no? Since ending up in skyloft those few weeks ago he’s been nothing but kind, patient and caring towards me and plus even though I said I wouldn’t compare him to the character he’s come to life around, he’s still link. Still the kind-hearted hero that I fell in love with when playing the game for the very first time, who i grew to wish was real when reading comics about his journey, why shouldn’t I be a little selfish when he cares for me as much as I do for him?

“I-”

Biting down hard on his lip now, the pleading look in his eyes switching to something more akin to outright begging. Just for me to say yes. As if there were any other options available to me.

“I think I’d love to do that with you sky, as long as you’re certain we have the time.”

No words needed to be said after that, his face lighting up like the sky at a new years celebration. I swear if you looked closely you’d be able to see the very fireworks he was initiating in his own eyes. All the while his face was graced with the softest grin I could have hoped to see. It was definitely the right thing to say.

“So, do you have anywhere that you think would be good places to collect some?”

“You really think after all this I wouldn’t have somewhere nearby in mind?”

“It doesn’t hurt to ask though, does it?”

“Well my pride might have gotten a little bruised, but that’ll heal in time.”

“...Do you reckon a kiss could help speed up that healing?”

“...”

“Link? Are you alright?”

“Are- would you do that for me?”

“If it’ll help fix your pride then, of course… wouldn’t want an injured hero would we?”

That shut him up well and truly, not even his usual confused soft stutters could be hurt as it seemed his code bluescreened at that idea. A full reboot happening in the time it took his face to go through a multitude of different emotions, settling on a gentle, yet mildly confused, look of contentment. Kinda spelling out his answer for me, but still, I’ll wait for clear consent before doing anything more forward than a suggestion.

“...”

“Take your time, there’s no rush on an answer.”

A nod. Clearly he doesn’t feel comfortable speaking right now, but that's more than fine. It’s not exactly like I’m not used to him being mute again, if anything it’s not an awkward silence as he leads me over to the spot he was thinking of. A small patch to the south of Eldin, littered with just so many different stones. A dream spot for any collector, so close to an active volcano to get fresh samples well as fresh as you can get without quenching the lava.

Will they even be able to come back out with me? Link seems to think he would have been able to come out of the game, but that only dragged me in here instead. Can I even get - don't ruin this moment with that line of thinking. We can figure that out later.

“Hey [name], mind coming over here for a moment?”

“Hmm? Sure, it isn't an issue.”

Speaking again now is a good sign, clearly his brain - does he have one? - has finished dealing with the bombshell I dropped on it earlier. Moving over to him isn’t a bad thing to do though, with whatever he’s holding seemingly a pleasant surprise. As soon as I’m back in front of him, he takes my chin in his hand delicately tilting it upright as he stares into my eyes. Biting down on his lips as he thinks of what to say, lifting up his other hand to my eye level, like he’s comparing whatever he’s holding to them.

“...It really is the same colour.”

“Oh, why didn’t you tell me we were doing that, I would have been looking as well.”

“No, no collect whatever you’d like for your own collection, I just… wanted to do something where I could still just um… admire your beauty really. If you don’t want this one then, I- I can just keep it instead.”

“I’ll keep it. Thank you link, but really now we've got to get you one too.”

#kinda off the prompt #but insanely fun to write #incredibly soft sky #like super super soft and fluffy #ugh #got cavities writing it #moss✦writes #link x reader #linked universe #linked universe x reader #lu sky #lu sky x reader #linked universe sky #self aware au #self aware loz #fluff #x reader fluff

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kinardsevan · 6 months ago

Note

Prompt: Tommy has dyslexia and has always felt self-conscious about it. His Dad often made him feel stupid because of it. Buck helps him work through it all.

Tommy tosses his phone onto the table and sighs, running a hand into his hair. Evan glances up from the island where he’s currently working on tossing the salad together for their dinner, confused.

“Babe?”

Tommy glances up at him and sighs, shakes his head in irritation.

“My brain isn’t braining right now,” he replies as he leans against the chair.

Evan nods, but stares at his boyfriend for a few moments. It’s not the first time he’s seen Tommy like this, and it’s definitely not the first time he’s seen him get this frustrated in the past few days. Still, he doesn’t want to press him to talk about something he’s not ready to.

“I can hear you thinking over there,” Tommy says after a minute, standing back up straight. He turns towards the island and walks over to it, grabbing bowls to take to the table. “What’s up?”

“I mean, you’ve just seemed really frustrated lately,” Evan tells him. “Especially in relation to your phone.”

Tommy nods, his expression pinched as he presses his mouth together, purses his lips in contemplation.

“I…I’m dyslexic, Evan,” he states, mildly apprehensive.

Evan nods, but doesn’t say anything. He likes learning new things about Tommy. They’re still in a stage where that happens regularly, although he’s finding more and more that it’s not so much the big things anymore, as it is little quirks and differences.

“So you were having trouble reading something?” He asks, like it’s the simplest question in the world.

Tommy stares at him for a beat longer than feels normal.

‘What?”

Tommy opens his mouth and his lips move minutely, almost as if they’re forming words that aren’t coming out, before he closes it again. The action concerns Evan and he settles the tongs in his hand inside the salad bowl, rounds the counter.

“What? What was that,” he asks, referencing Tommy’s lack of a statement.

Tommy closes his eyes, his head dropping as a pained expression crosses his face.

“N…No one’s ever just jumped into it,” he murmurs, shaking his head as he sucks the skin of bottom lip into his teeth, bites down. “I always get the ‘just use audio’, or ‘have someone read it to you’. Or my favorite, ‘you’re just not paying attention well enough’.”

Evan furrows his brow at the statement. “But you have auditory processing issues. So how is that supposed to help?”

Tommy looks up at him like someone has never bothered to suggest such a thing, slack-jawed at Evan’s words. Evan gives him a small smile as he reaches out and tugs on the hem of Tommy’s shirt, straightening it.

“Nobody’s ever said any of this to you, have they,” he asks.

“No,” Tommy drawls slowly. “It’s…weird. Nice, but weird.”

Evan nods. He leans over and pecks Tommy on the lips.

“So I used to get told that I was absent-minded and just didn’t care,” he confesses. “I’d miss appointments, blow off classes, oversleep.”

“Because of the ADD,” Tommy counters.

Evan nods.

“And then like six months into my tenure at the firehouse, Cap looked at me and said I should go talk to someone about it.I was doing better, but I was always running everywhere I had to be, because I couldn’t be on time to save my life.” Evan walks back around the counter and starts working on the salad again. “My point being, until someone else suggested a solution that actually helped,” he pauses, shrugs his shoulders. “I felt stupid. Like…like eveyrone just thought I just wasn’t trying hard enough.”

Tommy nods. “Yeah. I relate.”

Evan finishes tossing the salad and offers the bowl up to him. Tommy takes it from him and turns towards the table, sets it down before returning to the island and grabbing more supplies as Evan removes the apron he’s wearing.

“So tell me how I can help,” Evan tells him. “If I can read it to you, or help break it down in easier sections. I think I read something a while back about breaking up modes of instruction too.”

Tommy gives him a half smile then, shakes his head.

“You just dive right in no matter what it is,” he observes. Evan smiles at him, shrugging.

“I just want to make it easier for you,” he admits. “Besides, I don’t know if it’s obvious yet, but I kinda like you, Tommy Kinard. Kinda like you a lot.”

Tommy chuckles then, glancing away as his cheeks flush.

“Kinda like you too, Evan. Quite a bit.”

#bucktommy #prompt fic #tevan #kinley #firepilot #firebeast #🦌🚁#did I use my own auditory and dyslexic issues here #yes yes i did #undiagnosed adhd

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epicthemusicalstuff · 1 month ago

Note

I CRYUNG I NEED SOMEONE TO SUM UP ALL ETM SONGS MY. MEMORY + ATTENTION SPAN IS SO BAD

Let’s speed run epic the musical so far!! (It’s under the cut cause even a summary is gonna take a bit for 35 songs-)

Horse and the Infant:

Giant horse- ATTACK! ZEUS?!?! What are you doing here? I have to kill a baby? But he’s just a little thing-

Just a Man:

This little boy reminds me of my son. Is killing him the morally correct thing to do? Yeet.

Full Speed Ahead:

Let’s introduce our main cast! Wow! Polites- Eurylochus- Odysseus! BFFs forever! We’re hungry- let’s go to this island and look for food!

Open Arms:

Wow Odysseus, you are looking hella tense, maybe you should try being nice and not so mistrustful. Look at these little creatures eating lotus fruit- wow this fruit is bad for you- let’s go to this cave to find food!

Warrior of the Mind:

Athena and Odysseus back story. Odysseus, your actions aren’t very Warrior of the Mind coded. Don’t disappoint me.

Polyphemus:

Let’s kill these Sheep!! NOOO! Scary Cyclops, we killed his sheep, now he will kill us.

Survive:

HES GOT A CLUB. He is killing us- NO POLITES. Oh, Polyphemus is asleep now cause he drank spiked wine.

Remember Them:

Odysseus tricks Polyphemus. They almost get away, and then he GIVES OUT HIS FULL NAME, JOB POSITION, ADRESS, AND SOCIAL SECURITY NUMBER.

My Goodbye:

Athena is disappointed and they have a big messy friend break up.

Storm:

There is a big storm. Wow! A floating island! Let’s go!

Luck Runs Out:

Captain, you keep taking risks and not thinking this through. What happens if your plans fail?

Keep Your Friends Close:

Hahahahahaha! Here is a bag of wind! Don’t open it! Oh- the winions told you to open it? No!! Penelope- I’m hallucinating! Darn- the bag is opened.

Ruthlessness:

You hurt my son. So now I’m gonna kill most of your men. What’s this- a daring escape? Well- I’ll get you sooner or later-

Puppeteer:

An island. Let’s explore! Oh no- scary lady, she turned us into pigs! Let’s run Captain! Or not I guess.

Wouldn’t You Like:

Hey kid, this scary lady could kill you. How about some magic drugs? Totally safe and all.

Done For:

We are evenly matched- big magic fight! Wow! The magic drugs Hermes gave you really are something. Are you trying to seduce me?

There Are Other Ways:

Wow, you really are trying to seduce me. Too bad- I have a wife I love. Wait- you’ll help us? THE UNDERWORLD WHAT?

The Underworld:

We are haunted by everyone we have lost- Polites- wait- MOM?!? I’m too late-

No Longer You:

This dead prophet should tell me what we want to know- wait- what no- this is actually terrible? We came to you for help but now you’re saying you can’t help us? WHO?!a

Monster:

Maybe Poseidon was onto something, and we do have to be ruthless. Welp, time to become the monster y’all.

Suffering:

Ooo, Penelope, I love you, but you know I’m too shy. I don’t want to get in the water-

Different Beast:

SURPRISE I KNEW YOU WERENY MY WIFE. I actually did become the monster, and now I’m going to kill all your friends you Siren!

Scylla:

This is the only way home. Eurylochus, what do you mean you opened the wind bag back in Keep Your Friends Close. Light six torches- oh no, a giant monster is eating our crew. Me and her are the same you know.

Mutiny:

Captain why did you do that? Fight fight fight! Oh no- Odysseus has been stabbed. I’m hungry, let’s eat cows. Oh no, they were a gods cows. We knew that but still ate them. Now Zeus is gonna kill us.

Thunders Bringer:

Zeus is here. You can live, or your crew can live. But like- Penelope. Sorry crew. Crew dies.

Legendary:

It’s me! Telemachus! I never knew my dad- I wish I could know my dad. All these suitors want to marry my mom. I wish I could fight them. DONT CALL MY MOTHER A TRAMP!

Little Wolf:

Fight Little Wolf Fight- we are going to beat you up just cause you were in the way. WOW. ATHENA?? What are you doing here- we haven’t seen you since the second saga! Ow.

We’ll Be Fine:

I’m going to help you cause I feel guilty about your dad. Bet. We are best friends now. Go find my dad.

Love In Paradise:

Rewind- Morning! You were asleep. I’m in love with you now. Ew back away I have a wife. You’re a goddess??? Oh no- now I’m really depressed. I’m haunted by the ghosts again- ATHENA!

God Games:

Zeus- father- release Odysseus. *lots of convincing Gods* NO, YOU DID WHAT I ASKED SO NOW IM MAD. LIGHTNING BOLT. Is she- dead?

I’m Not Sorry For Loving You:

Yes I kept you trapped against you power, but I loved you- why won’t you love me back? It’s not like you have a whole literally family waiting for you-

Dangerous:

HAHAHAHA. Hello old friend! Let’s do some cool dance moves as I tell you how you will get back home. Here is a wind bag 2.0! Let’s hope you don’t have issues with it this time!

Charybdis:

Another obstacle!! But I know how to beat you!! Woo! I see home- I’m almost there! WAIT NO! NOT AGAIN!

Get In The Water:

Poseidon! Please let me get home- I already told Siren Penelope, I don’t want to get in the water! Can’t we get along? No! Drowning-

Six Hundred Strike:

Use the wind bag! I’m out of the water! SIX HUNDRED STRIKE! You’re beat Poseidon- let me go home. What’s this? You won’t. TIME FOR VIOLENCE. Stab. Stab. Stab. Next to my WIFE.

#Epic the musical #asks #here you go #a masterpiece

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moremaybank · 2 years ago

Text

EYES ON US — r.c

pairing dark!rafe cameron x dark!fem!reader

summary the man you've been having an affair with enlists you in a devious and downright evil plan to get back at your husband. the husband that owes him a million dollars.

warnings 18+, dark!rafe & dark!reader. read at your own risk! violence/use of force, use of guns, kidnapping, being held at gunpoint, mentions of murder but it isn't actually depicted (all pertaining to reader's husband), unprotected sex, blow job turned to face-fucking, spanking, creampie, overstimulation, squirting, voyeurism, revenge sex, i think that's it ???

author's note this is my first dark fic ever so please take it easy on me LOL. i hope you like itttt

rafe masterlist

It was nightfall, and the air was cold and crisp, with a cloud of fog blanketing the island's heights. It was dark, almost pitch black, barring the dim street lamps, and deafeningly silent, adding to the already ominous theme of the night. It acted as a guarantee that he could make his escape. Flee the island quietly without fearing being sought out by the deadliest man in the Outer Banks.

So, there he was, your husband, Warren, traipsing through a back alley with a duffel bag full of his belongings. The town was eerily quiet, and everything seemed too good to be true.

Could it be this easy? Warren thought. Will I make it out of this thing alive?

He found his answer when he heard the screech of tires in front of him as he reached the end of the alleyway. A shiver ran up his spine, and his eyes widened, watching three men unloaded from the black SUV. They all instantly made a beeline toward him, and Warren’s steps came to a halt.

One of the men stepped into the faint, spotlight-like halo, revealing himself to your poor, and not to mention screwed, husband.

Rafe Cameron.

Rafe was the most powerful man on the island. He was well-respected and well-feared with equal measure, and rightfully so. With the snap of his fingers, one’s life could be swiped from them without a word or a trace.

The stories constantly circulated throughout the town, the ones of him and his ruthless men taking action and retaliating moves when needed.

No one would ever dare to cross Rafe or anyone he still held specks of love for in his cold, nearly-dead heart. They would also do well to avoid getting between him and his money.

Your husband, however? Not so lucky.

“You got my money, Warren?”

“Well, actually…it seems I’ve encountered some complications. I don’t have your money, not right now, but I made some wise investments, and I’m just waiting for the cash to come in. You’ll have your money by tomorrow, Mr. Cameron. Every last penny, I swear,” he spoke, attempting to reassure the authoritative man in front of him.

A wry chuckle left Rafe’s lips in response as he moved closer to your husband. He wasn’t stupid; he knew precisely what Warren looked like when avoiding the truth.

“See, I’d believe you, except you’ve been spewing the same lies for weeks now, and I still don’t have it. I’d also like to take the time to point out the getaway bag stashed in your hand.” Rafe stepped closer still, “You didn’t think you could hide from me, did you?”

Warren swallowed thickly. “So…what happens next?”

“I like to think I’m a nice guy, Warren. But I do have friends that aren’t so nice. So, I’ll give you a choice; you can either get into the car willingly, or my men here will use force to get you inside themselves,” Rafe responded, motioning back toward the two men who accompanied him. “I think the answer is pretty clear.”

“You don’t have to do this, Mr. Cameron. We’re just two people having a civil conversation. We’re talking, that’s it.”

It was easy to note the fear in Warren’s eyes and tone, and Rafe relished that he could bring out the fear in people without even lifting a finger.

“I’m all talked out, Warren. Get in the car, or my men won’t make this easy for you.”

Warren shook his head, “I’m sorry, Mr. Cameron. I can’t.” He dropped the duffel bag, but before he could make a break for it, the two gentlemen on each side of his rival stalked toward him. They grabbed him, gripping his biceps tightly in their hold and dragging him toward Rafe. He tried to put up a fight, kicking his legs and floundering about, but he was quieted in an instant when Rafe’s gun knocked him on the side of his head.

About thirty minutes later, your husband woke in a cold, isolated cellar. He found himself alone with the same two men that had aided Rafe in getting him there.

Warren moved to raise his hand but soon realized that his wrists were bound with thick ropes, as well as his ankles, and both were secured to the metal chair he sat on. He tried to budge, but the tight ropes combined with his head pounding gave him little to no strength or energy to follow through. He hissed as the left side of his head throbbed in pain, and he could feel the remnants of blood still dripping down his temple.

Breaking the silence, Rafe knocked on the door and entered the room. He went over to Warren calmly and raised his hand to remove the tape from his victim’s mouth.

“I’d apologize for the rough tactics used to get you here, but I had no choice. I wasn’t about to let you run from me. Can’t have people thinking I’m getting soft, Warren. My empire would implode.”

“…Dare I ask what the plan is?” Warren mutters in response, eyes focused on Rafe pacing back and forth all too calmly.

“Well, my good friend, to be quite honest, I was just going to have you killed, you know? Lights out,” he snaps, “just like that. But then I thought, how can I make this better? And, shit, I think I’ve really outdone myself this time.” Rafe crouched down in front of Warren, their faces now levelled. “I have a very special treat for you, Warren.”

One of his men opened the door again, and you walked, draped in designer from head to toe. Your dress clung to your curves with ease, and your heels clicked against the pavement of the cellar as you made your way over to Warren and Rafe.

“Hi, baby,” you greeted with a smile, the glimmer in your eyes as bright as ever.

Warren assumed you were speaking to him, but he wondered why you would be grinning from ear to ear when your husband was about to face his impending death.

Things became apparent as you stepped into the arms of Rafe, right in front of him, pressing a long and deep kiss to his lips before pulling back with a giggle. You turned your attention toward your husband, whose expression was gobsmacked. Your eyes landed on the ropes that kept him tied up.

“Ooh,” you mused, “kinky.”

“I thought so too,” Rafe grinned, kissing your temple as his hands stroked your upper arms.

“What the fuck is going on? Why are you with him, Y/N? Why are you kissing him?”

Fury bled through your husband’s tone, and you could see his brows creasing as he let the emotion take over him entirely.

“Aw, come on, sweetie. You had to know I’d leave you eventually,” you replied.

“What?” He whispered, swearing he could feel a crack in his heart threatening to split through it completely.

“You’re broke, Warren. You owe Rafe nearly a million dollars, yet everything you’ve done to get it back has failed. You told me it would all work out, but there you were just half an hour ago, ready to make your escape and not bothering to care about the circumstances you would leave me in. Broke and completely alone.” You crouched down just as Rafe had earlier, “I don’t like being lied to, Warren.”

“You’ve been lying to me for some time, too. You’re a hypocrite. And a two-timing whore.”

Rafe was quick to punch your bad-mouthing husband square in the jaw. “Watch what the fuck you say to her, or I’ll make this worse for you. You got that?”

You both watched as Warren glared at him silently, spitting the blood pooling in his mouth onto the floor beneath him. Then, you stepped directly in front of your husband, tilting his face up to look at you with your index finger. Looking him right in the eye, you started to explain your reasoning.

“It was for a good cause. Rafe can give me everything, all the things you never could. Like good sex, for example. A woman needs her orgasms, my love, and you were doing a very lousy job providing me with them.”

Warren tore his gaze from yours in embarrassment, and it was hard not to bask in it. The taste of revenge was sweet on your tongue, and the fun hadn’t even begun yet.

“So, what, your evil plan was to reveal your little affair to me? Congrats. Can you kill me now?”

Rafe chuckled mockingly, shaking his head. “You underestimate me, man. You should know who I am by now.” Taking hold of Warren’s jaw, he bent to his level and placed the tape back on his lips. “You’re going to watch me fuck her. And believe me; it’s going to be one hell of a show.”

Rafe looked back to you over his shoulder, “Take off your dress for me, baby. Leave the heels on.”

You nodded gleefully, moving to unzip your dress. You shimmied it down the length of your body and let it hit the floor. Your bare breasts and pussy were left in plain sight, having chosen to skip undergarments altogether.

Rafe smirked at you, “No panties? Naughty girl.” He walked over to you, his hand clasping around your throat and drawing your face to his. He then kissed you, letting his tongue slip into your mouth and tangle with yours.

When Rafe broke the kiss, he looked back at his men. “Make sure Warren is facing us at all times. I don’t want him to miss a single second of this.” His men both nodded and began to make their way to Warren’s chair. They stood on either side of him, caging him in — not that he would’ve been able to break free.

Rafe’s attention returned to you. His thumb smoothed over your cheekbone, “How do you wanna do this, baby?”

You pondered dramatically, tapping your pointer finger against your jaw. When you cooked up your answer, you beamed widely. “Why don’t you fuck me in doggy?” Your eyes met Warren’s, “Your favourite. Right, hun?”

“Fucking his wife in his favourite position? That sounds fucking fantastic to me,” Rafe stated proudly. His hand grasped your wrist, about to lead you to the other side of the table. Before he could, you stopped him.

“Wait,” you say. “I wanna suck you off first.”

That stung. You barely ever offered to do so for your husband. You’d always been the girl that got off on pleasing her man. You sucked dick for your pleasure. But you’d grown bored with Warren so long ago; he couldn’t even fathom the last time you had.

With him, that is.

After turning so that Warren could view you from the side, you sank to the floor, your fingers working to free him from the confines of his dress slacks. You palmed and rubbed his cock, waking it up through his briefs. Your eyes peered up and caught Rafe biting his lower lip in response to your touch. You drew his cock out from the fabric before spitting onto your palm. Your dainty hand circled Rafe’s girth and began to stroke him slowly. Your tongue dragged up his length and swirled around his yearning tip before taking him into your mouth entirely.

With ease, you quickly began to bob your head. Your lips created an air-tight suction around it, taking his cock to the back of your throat each time. You twisted and jerked and lapped at his cock with determination, and Warren’s hateful gaze only goaded you further.

“Such a perfect goddamn mouth. You love taking my cock down your throat, don’t you?” Rafe spoke, threading a hand into your hair as you worked at him.

It was hard not to smile when you released his cock from your mouth. You spat on it, watching your saliva coat him and make him more slippery. You continued to stroke him while your moistened lips dragged over his balls gently. Rafe leaned his hand backward, bracing it on the table and holding himself up when your thumb ran over his slit. You’ve always known that it was one of his weaknesses, and you were damn sure to use that to your advantage. Your tongue slithered over the remainder of pre-cum still seeping out of him. You teased the small hole, almost making Rafe’s knees buckle.

“I love how hard you get for me when I lick you like this, baby.” Your eyes wandered toward Warren again, “Love this perfect cock so much.”

You sucked Rafe into your mouth again, your tongue paying special attention to his sensitive tip. It spiralled around the head and slid down his shaft when you practically swallowed him whole. One of your hands fondled his balls and massaged them between your slippery fingers, and Rafe was quick to snap.

“Fuck, stay right there. Let me use you,” he ordered, taking your head in both his hands now and holding your face in place. Your hands held onto his thighs, and Rafe started roughly fucking himself down your throat. You moaned around him, sending vibrations through him as he chased his high. His cock twitched between the seam of your lips, and his cum spurted out. You swallowed the hot substance, and Rafe groaned when he felt your throat close around him.

Rafe pulled out, panting heavily as his eyes roamed over to your husband, and he smirked proudly when he saw his eyes about to pop out of his head.

“How’d it feel, Warren? Watching your wife swallow my kids? Hurt, didn’t it?”

Warren shuffled around as best he could, trying to move toward Rafe, but the guards held the chair back, restraining his movements. You and Rafe couldn’t hold back your amused laughs.

“If you think that’s bad, just wait ’til I fill her pussy up. You’ll be fuming.”

“Enough talking. Let’s show him instead,” you said.

Your hand grabbed Rafe’s as you led him around the table to face Warren. You leaned forward, and your hands braced onto the surface. You arched your back, allowing Rafe full access to your backside. You felt his hands run down the length of your back to your ass, and he squeezed both cheeks before smacking one side. His fingers slid through your folds, feeling the pool of slick leaking from your hole. He sucked on them, tasting your sweetness.

“Hold on tight, baby. I’m going to make this hurt.”

Rafe pushed his way into your pussy, filling you up wholly. The air disappeared from your lungs, and you felt his balls against your clit. You instinctually arched further and tossed your head back, now practically bent in half.

“So big, Rafe. Fuck,” you gasped.

“Yeah?” Rafe asked, starting to move. “Bigger than him?”

You looked right at your prying-eyed husband. “Way bigger. He doesn’t compare."

Rafe grinned at your response, and his hips began to smack against your ass. His hands curled over either side of your neck, bringing you back against his cock roughly. He wasted no time picking up a ferocious pace, punishing your pussy and taking out all his Warren-related revenge on it.

“Oh my god, yes,” you mewled. Your hands slid closer to the other side of the table, and your fingers hooked over the edge as you sought out some leverage. “Right fucking there. Shit.”

Rafe’s hand smacked your ass again, pulling a yelp from you, and he felt the heat rising onto your skin at the harsh contact.

“You never deserved this perfect pussy, Warren. You didn’t even know what to do with it,” Rafe growled as he slammed deep into your hot, slick walls. You encased him so tightly; it was like he was fucking you for the first time again. Rafe never thought it’d get any better than feeling your pussy gripping him like it never wanted to let go, but that was knocked off its pedestal when he watched the rage on his victim’s face.

Warren’s cap was about to blow off. Each time he tried to look away, one of the guards would grip his jaw tightly and force his gaze back onto the two of you. Closing his eyes didn’t help either because he could still hear you calling another man’s name and begging him for more. It was a cruel reminder of how deadly silent you were with him when he gave you your so-called pleasure.

It was killing him. You were killing him.

Noticing Warren’s shut eyes, Rafe nodded to the guards without stopping, and the two freed their handguns and pressed the muzzles of the guns to each of Warren’s temples.

“Eyes on us, Warren, or they’ll shoot.”

Angrily, your husband forced himself to watch the two of you, having no choice but to endure his suffering.

“‘M gonna cum, Daddy,” you babbled, already fucked into a stupor without finishing yet. “Please, make me cum.”

Rafe’s eyes found your husband’s once more as he spoke through gritted teeth.

“This is what it looks like when you can actually satisfy your girl. Can you hear how soaked she is? How loud she’s screaming for me?” Turning his attention back to you, one of his hands slipped into your hair, gaining an unrelenting grip on your strands. “Cum for me, baby. Cum for me and tell him who fucks you this dumb.”

Your tits pressed against the cold metal of the table beneath them, bulging them out and perking up your sensitive nipples as you all but screamed. “You, Rafe! Only y-you!”

A loud shriek escaped your lips as you came hard, your knees buckling under waves of pleasure. Your body sagged against the table, your hands releasing their grip on it, and you essentially became his fuck doll as Rafe still fought for his orgasm. Your walls would not — could not stop clamping down on him, bringing him closer and closer to cumming.

“I’m going to fill this pussy to the brim. Maybe even let Warren taste it afterward,” he mused through a grunt. “Fuck, princess. So goddamn tight.”

Rafe reached his high again, letting his cum spurt inside of you. He pulled out in a flash and scooped you up in his arms so he could carry you. He demanded help from one of his guards, having him bring the other chair in front of Warren. He sat down and hovered you over his cock. He tugged you downward, letting your cunt swallow his cock once more. You whimpered, leaning back against your lover’s chest.

“Spread those legs nice and wide, baby. Need him to see everything he’s missing.”

Though he told you what he wanted you to do, he did you the kindness of helping you out by using his large palms to stretch you out and give Warren a close-up view of his enemy’s cock inside his wife. Your feet braced themselves upon Rafe’s knees, keeping you open for him, and your hands pressed flat against his thighs.

Rafe placed his own hands on the chair, his fingers curling over the edges as he fucked his cock up into you. Your head immediately fell against Rafe’s broad shoulder as you allowed him to pummel into you.

Your pussy was already sore, but the sting was too satisfying to let go of. The thrill of your husband watching your affair spurred you on as well. There was no adrenaline rush quite like making your disappointment of a husband watch you fall apart on someone else’s cock.

To rub it in (no pun intended), your hand found its way to your clit, and you began to massage it tirelessly.

“Fuck. Fuck.” You cursed, going harder as you burned for more. Your cunt started to spasm, contracting around Rafe’s shaft, and you knew you were close when your legs trembled. “Rafe!”

“Oh, shit. You going to squirt for us, baby?” Rafe questioned, the pride washing over him. You nodded desperately, and he kissed your shoulder. “Go ahead. Make a spectacle of it. Be my good girl and soak ‘em.”

You squealed when you let go, falling over the edge and letting the euphoria consume you. Your juices squirted out of you, drenching the three men in front of you and the man responsible for making you do so.

“Bet you’ve never gotten her to do that, huh?” Rafe bragged, free of remorse.

He fucked you harder, triggering his orgasm as he slipped in and out of you vigorously. You both rode out your climaxes, your legs feeling like jello as you tried to stay upright. Rafe then lifted you off of him carefully before standing up himself. He readjusted his clothing, bringing his briefs and slacks to his hips.

Your releases oozed from your pussy and started to run down your thighs, and Rafe scooped it up with his fingers. Leisurely stepping right in front of your husband, he removed the duct tape from his lips again. Then, Rafe smeared the cum on his fingers over the seam of your spouse’s lips, looking smug as ever.

“This counts as your last meal, right?”

Rafe pats Warren’s cheek twice with an evil smile before walking over to you and wrapping his arm over your shoulders. “Say bye, baby.”

“Bye, Warren. I hope you enjoyed the show,” you winked.

The two of you made it to the door, and Rafe opened it. He turned back to the guards before leaving. “Kill him.”

All that could be heard as you two left the building were pleading screams and a single gunshot.

Boom.

rafe tag list [added a few people who wanted to read this fic (join here!)]: @pankowperfection @oncasette @taintedxkisses @goldenroutledge @penny4yourthoughts @bmo-bri @hemogloban @princessbetsy123-blog @slytherhoes @whoisdrewstarkey @vigilanteshitposting @dreamingwithrafe @twelfthmortalofcrimsonpalace @wildflwrdarlin @saturnband @adoreyouusugar @rosie-cameron @f4ll-for-you @rafesdirtyslut @tell-me-when-ur-ready @bbycowboi @venomwh0re @cecesrings @indigoreccs @cumbuckett @jjmaybankisbae @enhypens-hoe @loverofdrewstarkey @insanelycrazyanddelusional @blueicequeen19 @mvybanks @countryclubkook @veescorneroftheworld @unmistakablyunknown @achromatopcia @chibijusstuff @earth2starkey @angelofcigs @glen-powells @papillonoirsworld @belcalis9503 @em0-b0ysworld @koalalafications @aerangi @cantstoptherecs @ykitsher

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sir-sunawani · 7 days ago

Text

Starling

Omegaverse

Alpha!Crocodile/Omega!Reader

Inspired by @hannahbarberra162's Emperor's Prize

CW: A/B/O, yandere vibes (unsure if full blown yan yet) yeah we full blown yandere babes, dub con (possible non-con I am so by the seat of my pants with this), rough sex, rough everything kind of, mdni

Chapter 5: Endure

Crocodile talked you through what he was doing as he cleaned you. He ended up cleaning you twice, because the first time you were still out of it, but he didn’t seem irritated by it. His voice was soft, and his touch was careful, and while he easily manhandled you, there was nothing left of the beast that had plunged his tongue into you earlier.

He dried you off after, and carefully brushed your hair.

A fresh shirt of his, and he helped you roll up the sleeves, pulling you into bed with him and sleeping beside you with a gentle, almost chaste manner. Nothing happens during the night, except one of the deepest, most satisfying rests of your life.

In the morning he hands you a small box after breakfast. You look at it a little oddly, but open it to find a black leather choker, with a simple golden clasp on the back, and a twist of gold on the front.

“It’s a collar.” He explains. “One you can remove with a single hand. You’re not required to wear it, but it will act as an effective warning to anyone on the island that you are my… guest.”

Taking it out of the box you put it around your neck, surprised at how well it fits, and how easily it clasps and unclasps. You leave it on with a smile and see a smirk pull at Crocodile’s lips. He’s pleased, and you imagine that’s as close to a genuine smile as you’ll see on his face.

After breakfast, Crocodile was back to work. You didn’t know what the island full of pirates did, but it apparently created a massive amount of paperwork. As far as you’d sorted the last couple of days, Crocodile dealt with expenses. Pages and pages of numbers and accounts, and it all blurred together no matter how often you tried to watch him work.

“You can sit in my lap while I work.” He says evenly, eyes not even shifting over to you as you stand nearby watching him. “You’re so small it won’t hinder me.”

He leans back, and opens his legs, patting the space on the chair between his legs. You aren’t sure why you decide to accept the offer. You just know that the room smells nice, and he smells even better, and the space he’s offering to let you sit probably smells the best.

The leather of the chair is a smell that doesn’t linger. Instead the sweet scent of old scotch, honey, and warm sand curls around you. The steady scratch of his pen along the paper, the faint whiffs of ink that lead your nose back to his smell, it’s all a little mesmerizing.

The even pace with which he works is probably from years of practice. Not so slow he’s easily distracted, not so fast he’s burned out before the day is done.

The only breaks in his work come from the people who come into the office space at seemingly random intervals. You didn’t pay the much mind, the vulgar scents of harsh salty air and often unwashed pirate dissipated quickly. No one ever lingered long, giving their report and then leaving.

Sometimes a stern man who said nothing would come in and leave more paper, or take papers. He didn’t smell vulgar, but he seemed to pay little attention to Crocodile and even less attention to you.

The scent, the steady thrum of work, the soft lighting of the room. It was relaxing. Terribly relaxing. Some part of you was concerned you were too relaxed, but a larger part of you was happy for it. Happy for the contact. You knew the concept of touch-starved, but since you had been allowed contact with your omega attendants, you hadn’t considered it. You weren’t devoid of physical contact.

But you had been denied a kind of it. The pleasure of physical intimacy and the relaxation that came with having that euphoric feeling flood your senses.

It was addicting.

Or at the very least, you weren’t against feeling it again. Certainly not at Crocodile’s hands. Hand. His very large hand. Large, broad shoulders. Large tongue.

You can’t help squirming a little at the idea, but you force yourself to stay still. You want to stay perched in this space for as long as you can, and if you make a fuss he’s likely to make you leave. You’ve only been around him two days, but he’s disdainful of idiocy and inefficiency, that much is obvious.

“Will you help me relax?” He hums, setting down the pen.

You nod, mind a little fuzzy from the scent of him. You wanted more of it, more of him. You needed it to be stronger, but you didn’t know if saying so was rude.

“You can tell me to stop whenever you want,” he explains, large hand cupping your breast. His finger brushes your nipple through the shirt and you gasp, shivering in his lap. “Or beg me for more.”

He rolls his finger over your sensitive flesh until your nipple is hard and you have a hand over your mouth to try and stifle the sounds of your panting. You hadn’t realized how sensitive you were, the warmth rolling through you was already maddening and he’s only just begun.

Rolling the small nub between to fingers he tugs a little, a slight smile forming on his lips when you gasp, biting your lip and moaning. Your body is trembling against his chest, and he wants little more than to pin you down and fuck you until you cry, but he wants you to beg for it.

Needs you to beg for him.

The whimper that falls from your lips causes him to reach over and play with your other nipple, his forearm brushing against the tingling right side as he teases your left with his fingers.

“This… this relaxes you?” You question, the shivering pleasure skittering through your chest and heating your body.

“It does.” He answers honestly.

“To-touching me?”

He flicks his finger lightly over the tip of your nipple. “Yes.” The cool metal of his hook rests on your thigh, sliding and pulling the hem of your shirt up with it. “Everything you do when I touch you like this relaxes me.”

“It’s… it’s not relaxing for m-me.” You admit. You’re squirming and whining, but you’re not pushing him away or asking him to stop.

“It’s not?” He questions, knowing amusement in his voice as he twists your nipples, tweaking one then the other. “Should I stop?”

“No! No, ah, no, it feels good… it does.” You cry. He’s gone back to rubbing lazy light circles around each stiff peak, moving back and forth between them, never leaving one unattended long enough to soften and relax. You’re worried you’re going to stain the chair, you can feel the mess pooling between your thighs at the attention.

But it’s not enough to bring you over the edge.

He leans down, lips close to your ear. “Do you want it to feel better?”

“Buh-better?” You need a minute to pull your thoughts together. “Orgasming, you mean, like last night?” You question, body rolling in his as his hook threatens to expose you at his desk.

“You want me to make you cum, little flower?” He purrs and you feel the sound coil around your thighs and lick at your ears.

“Yes! Yuh-yes please, please.” Nodding, you mewl as you’re shifted easily, turned around and sat up on his desk.

Hand and hook grab the top and rip it open, sending buttons flying. He leaves the shirt on you otherwise, your back to the door.

“Put your feet on my thighs, and your hands on the desk.” He instructs, helping you and guiding you as you move into the position he wants. Your face is flushed, and you’re panting with need. It’s not a heat, but you’re so desperate for him to make you cum again that you’re not thinking clearly. Your ass is barely on the edge of his desk and you can see and feel sand moving up your stomach.

The small handfuls of sand brush your nipples, teasing your skin.

“Haaanngh!” You gasp. “Rough, it’s… rough,” your breath falls down your lips as the gritty sensation sends thrills into your chest.

“Painful?” He questions and you shake your head as the sand rolls and shifts over your stiff nipples. “Good.”

His thumb rubs against your slit and you wonder if he’s going to put his lips down there again. Instead he rubs your clit once before pushing your labia apart and slowly working his middle finger inside of you. It’s an easy intrusion, you were wet before he started teasing your breasts, and now you’re almost painfully needy.

The sweet stretch of his thick finger pushing inside you makes your hips buck. He moves with you so he doesn’t go too deep too fast. Once his entire finger is inside you he presses his thumb against your clit and starts rubbing slow circles.

“Haa, haaa… that’s…” You gasp. Your hips seem to have a mind of their own, grinding into his thumb and riding his finger. You’re pushing off the desk and bracing yourself against his legs, practically fucking yourself on his finger while he teases your clit and nipples.

Pleasure ripples through your muscles, curling around your lungs and leaking from your pussy so much you can hear the soft drops with each wet shift of your hips on his finger.

You don’t care about the sounds. You don’t care about his eyes on your body, but you do like that he’s watching you. It’s the high you’re chasing, the one he’s letting you reach for. It felt so good yesterday, and you can feel it coiling through you again. Building. Tightening.

A knock at the door stutters your pace for a second, but one look from Crocodile has you continuing to move. Your lips are pressed together and you’re trying to be quiet.

“If you stop, I’ll edge you until your next heat.” He warns softly. His eyes stay on you even as shame pricks tears at the corners of yours. You nod, lips still pressed tightly together.

“Come in.” He calls out and your body tenses for a second as the doors swing open.

“Please,” you whine softly, still riding his finger. His eyes shift from your body to the figure beyond.

“Don’t dawdle in the doorway.” He growls and you hear the footsteps approach.

“Please, I-.”

“Keep doing what you are doing, or I will strip you bare and take you in front of this man, do you understand?” He snaps the words and you nod your head, focusing on him, and his hand, and his sand and trying to desperately ignore the other person.

“Report.” Sir Crocodile snarls and the poor messenger stammers a few times unsuccessfully until he finds his words.

You have no idea what the report was. Even if you weren’t trying to ignore him entirely, you hadn’t really kept up with what people had come in and reported earlier. Crocodile’s sand was tugging at your nipples making you whine and moan no matter how tightly pressed you kept your lips.

“No,” you gasp softly, voice barely above a whisper. The pleasure was building and you knew you weren’t going to be able to hold out until the messenger left.

The messenger goes quiet and Crocodile shifts. His hook presses harmlessly into the middle of your back and he holds you close, bending down enough to look into your eyes as he fucks you with his finger. The lewd wet sound of his finger pumping in and out of your vagina is all you can hear, and his thumb against your clit pushes you over the edge.

You hold onto his shirt, mouth open and gaze hazy as you come undone for him, fluttering against his finger. He keeps going until you’re a panting, shivering mess, your orgasm dripping onto the floor. Pulling his finger out he licks the tip before pushing it into your mouth.

“Get out.” He says, never taking his eyes off you. You’re licking and sucking the finger in your mouth, too focused on him and the taste of your pleasure against your tongue to care about the man. You can hear the hurried click of his shoes against the floor, and the door closing behind him.

Crocodile lays you down on his desk, letting the shirt fall to either side of you. His finger is still in your mouth as he leans down and licks your body. His tongue starts against your throbbing pussy, and trails a thick, heavy line up to your breasts. You squirm beneath him, hands holding onto his arm as his teeth graze your skin.

An impossibly large bulge presses against your soaked slit as his cock strains against his pants. He pulls his finger out of your mouth and puts the curve of his hook under your chin, teeth nipping at your collarbone as you hear his belt being undone.

“Beg for it,” he growls into your skin, the sound of his zipper the last thing you hear before a hard and throbbing length lays against you.

You can’t look down, but it feels massive. Far too large for your body.

“Please,” you sob, the hazy pleasure in your eyes quickly being replaced by cold fear. “It’s… you’re too big, Sir, please.”

Even as you say it, your legs stay open and two thick fingers push inside you. The stretch is sweet, and taut, fear tightening you up, but it doesn’t hurt. The loud squelch of pleasure lets his fingers go in deep. Your cry is half pleasure, half surprise, and he looms over you, keeping your face tilted back with his hook, but still looking into your eyes.

“Beg for it.” He repeats, scissoring his fingers gently inside you. “Beg like a good girl and I’ll make sure it feels good.”

“Buh, I-.” You moan as he pushes a third finger inside, gritty sand wrapping around your legs and pushing them wide. “Please-please, I… I want you… you, inside me,” you stammer the words, hands holding onto the gold guard that attaches his hook to his wrist. “I-.”

“Say what it is you want,” he instructs.

“Your… your…” Your mind whirls through all the possible words, but the aching pleasure inside your vagina is distracting. “Thing! Your cock!” You gasp the word as his fingers push in deeper. “Please! Please p-put your kuh-cock in my… my heat, my … you’re going to split me in half.” You sob.

“I won’t.” He asserts, licking your scent glands. No one’s ever even run fingers over that part of your body. The new pleasure sends a shiver through your whole body and you can feel the rush flood over his fingers. “Relax. Tell me where you want it.” He urges you on, your hands trembling against the gold.

You mewl, blood rushing to your face, and close your eyes. “Puh… my pussy… please.” You suck in a breath as his fingers curl inside you, sending stars into your vision. “Please, please put your, your cock, in my, my pussy, please, Sir, please. I’m buh-begging for it, please, please.”

He licks at the delicious parts of your skin more, sending shivers through your body and ripping gasping cries from your lips. When you could form words you continued to beg him to take you, even though the idea of it scares you.

More than the sand that held your legs open, and more than the tongue, teeth, lips, and fingers that licked, nipped, kissed and pet you, his scent was driving you to the brink. No one’s smell had ever bothered you. None of the other omegas that cared for you, none of the rare few alphas they let watch you writhe in pain, no one else until now had a scent that sank into your skin and clawed at your brain.

“Please!” You scream. “Fuck me, I can’t take it!”

His hook moves away, and his hand is under your head, holding you and forcing you to look at him as he begins to push in to your hot, wet, needy cunt.

Crocodile’s POV

His eyes were blown wide, taking in every detail. The way your cunt shivers at his tip as he pushes in slowly. The way your mouth hangs open, unable to say anything more, your tongue slipping past your wet lips, tears dropping down your cheeks.

You’re not in your heat, but the scent of fear has turned to need and he feels like he could tear pieces of the savory smell from the very air. What fools thought your scent had been ruined? What utterly worthless people dared to tell you that you needed fixed?

He can feel your toes curl as his tip pushes in deeper, the pleasure finally over taking the sheer stretch and you breathe in. Your lungs fill and you clench against him, hands pawing at his chest, fingers flexing against his vest.

You gasp air in once, twice, unwilling to let it go, or unable to think of such an action as he stretches you to a degree that must seem impossible. If you weren’t so deliciously wet, if he hadn’t stretched you with his fingers, you’d be in incredible pain right now.

And by the seas he almost wants to break you.

“Breathe,” he commands gently and you finally breathe out, the clenching pressure turning to a fluttering shiver and he takes the moment of relaxation to push the rest of the way in. His hips snug against your thighs, the sands dissipating now that there’s no way for you to close your legs. You’re not in a heat, and he’s not in a rut, so there’s no throbbing knot at the bast of his cock, making it easier for you to take him.

“See? You took it all.” He purrs, guiding your gaze so you can see it. “You’re made for me. A perfect fit.”

Your POV

He pulls back and you watch as the thick, bumpy shaft slowly exits you. You can’t believe something that is easily the size of your own forearm can fit between your thighs. That it isn’t actually splitting you in half, tearing you apart from the inside, is beyond you to really comprehend right now.

It does, however, feel amazing, and as he pushes back in, your body shivers and jolts, as pleasure licks you from the inside. You writhe on the desk, held in place by his hand on the back of your head, and mewl as he slowly hilts again.

Only to slowly pull back out.

It’s almost painful how carefully he pushes back inside you, leaving your body desperate for something it had never had before.

“Fuh-faster, please, faster!” You cry, as he hooks your leg in the crook of his left arm, pushing it back and pinning you more securely to the desk.

He grinds into you for a second before pulling back out faster this time. The long, smooth motion is still slow, but he presses back in faster, pulling out a little more quickly. Your body is shaking, and the building pleasure is both similar to the times you’ve cum before, and very different.

His first heavy thrust in pushes the air from your lungs, it rushes past your lips and out into the air in a breathy moan. One hand is on the bell of his hook, the other clutching the forearm that disappears into your hair and holds you in place. Fear tenses your body, but it’s not fear of him, or fear of pain.

It’s that as he speeds up and falls into a faster and faster pace, the loud, wet smack of his thighs against yours, you just keep ascending. The pleasure is only building. It’s an overwhelming climb and when you look at him you know he knows.

He’s not going to show you mercy.

“Too much!” you squeak. “It’s - it’s gonna be- too much! I’ll die! I’ll die!”

“You’ll live.” He husks and the way his words drip from his lips and grab your throat makes your heart pound.

Your breath falls out of your mouth in short bursts, forced out with each heavy thrust as he starts to properly fuck you. You can’t plead with him, you can barely pull air back into your lungs as your heart pounds and your body flushes with heat.

Crocodile leans down as your pleasure finally starts to break, his body rubbing against yours and teasing your throbbing clit. You suck in a breath as the orgasm slams into you and he claims your lips, devouring your scream and your mouth as you cum hard against his cock. Your legs kick and twitch as your toes curl and flex.

The heavy kiss steals what little air you had, and you’ve not the sense to try and breathe any other way. The pleasure and lack of oxygen is a dizzying combination, and you don’t know if you’ll pass out from pleasure or lack of air. As the orgasm subsides, he breaks the kiss, leaning back as you gasp and cough to catch your breath.

He doesn’t let up, letting go of his hold on your head, and pressing his thumb into your clit. He’s still holding your leg with his other arm, and he moves enough to carefully put your neck inside the curl of his hook.

You don’t need him to tell you not to move.

You focus on breathing as the pleasure builds again, worried each uncontrollable twitch of your legs and fingers will prove to be too much. You’re caught in the beasts jaws, completely immobilized, and any useless thrashing on your part would only lead to harm.

You carefully put your hands on the hook, steadying yourself against it as the second orgasm threatens to overtake you. You don’t want to defy him, or even appear to do so, but you can’t control your own body right now.

“Please,” you gasp. “I can’t… can’t stay still… I can’t, it’s-.”

He growls, and you see what you saw before. Eyes that seem too reptilian, and teeth that seem too sharp. A face that’s terrifying and beautiful. Protective and inevitable.

“If I hurt you,” he growls, his voice deep and grinding between his teeth like rocks. “It would be on purpose.”

He slows a little, his thumb still teasing your clit.

“Beg.” He commands.

“Please,” you let go of his hook and reach out to him. “Devour me.”

The growl that rolls in his chest, the light behind those amber gold eyes, the smile that splits his face. You let your arms fall to the desk, submitting to him completely as he resumes fucking you. The pleasure rolls through your body, but it’s not your will that moves you. Every twitch and whine pulled from you is because he commands it.

Every shiver and gasp is because he’s granted you the pleasure of it.

You’ve given in for now, drowning in the vice-like grip that forces another orgasm into your exhausted muscles, but you know. You cry out in euphoria as the pleasure drags you under, and you know. His thick cock throbs inside your hot cunt and he fills you full of his seed, and you know.

You know if you don’t escape him, he will claim every fiber of your soul when you go into heat.

What you don’t know, is if it’s what you want.

#reader insert #x reader #omega!reader #sir crocodile #one piece #mdni #yandere #a/b/o #omegaverse #Starling

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somanyratsinthewalls · 6 months ago

Note

congrats on the 700! i love your work 🫶🏼🫶🏼 can i suggest a blue rooster 👀 maybe drunk/nightclub ish themed tyyyy

THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING and man the Sanji girls SHOWED UP for this prompt game! And I am sooo not complaining... I love this man.

Pairing: Sanji x Fem!Reader

Prompt/Trope: Drunk/High Sex

WC: 2700 oops

Warnings: DRINKING AND INTOXICATION if this bothers you please don’t read! I know how consent works but these are two adults having a nice time it’s fine here I promise. Stay safe out there in real life, tho! unprotected sex, creampies, blowjob, spitting, dirty talk, once again they're a lil drunk but it's cool.

Let's Dance (+18)

———

“I’m not going with Usopp, he whines the whole time!” You shout.

“Yeah well I don’t want to go with you OR Robin! I don’t want to go to a stupid book store!” Usopp spits back at you.

“I don’t care who I go with as long as it isn’t the ugly shitty cook. I’d hate to have to save both of us if we get attacked.” Zoro says casually.

“No problems there, asshole. I’d like to not get lost for once.” Sanji quips back as he holds his cigarette between his teeth.

“You guys, stop fighting! Let’s all go together!” Chopper looked distraught.

“We’re wanted criminals, Chopper. I don’t think the whole lot of us together would allow us to keep a low profile.” Robin states as she pats Chopper’s head.

“I don’t care who goes with me, I just want to go to that barbecue place we passed sailing in!” Luffy grins and you could have sworn saliva was pooling in the corners of his mouth.

None of you could decide on who you wanted to be paired up with the explore the island, and unfortunately your crew had a method for solving these kinds of disputes... and everyone hated it.

“ALRIGHT I’M GETTING THE STRAWS!” Nami, frustrated, calls out as she heads to her room to grab the dreaded bag of straws.

Groans echoed across the deck of the Sunny.

Nami returned and every one lined up, waiting to pick from the bag. Pairs would be assigned by who drew the same length straws.

“If I get paired with moss head I’m drowning myself before we even dock.” Sanji, lined up next to you, rolls his eyes and takes a drag of his cigarette.

“And if I have to go with Franky to the boring-ass lumber yard I’m going to hang myself from the top sail.” You sigh.

All the straws had been distributed and you look down at the one in your hand.

You hear an excited gasp from directly to your left.

Sanji was holding his straw up to yours, they matched.

“UGGGGHHHHH!!!” You groan and huff. You even make a show of stomping your feet and pouting. “I’m stuck with the pervert?!”

“Ha ha!” Zoro points at you across the circle and laughs.

“Shut up, moss balls!” You scowl.

“Y/n mon amour! How wonderful we get to spend the evening together!” Sanji’s eyes sparkled as he smiled down at you. You roll your eyes dramatically.

This was going to be a long night.

— — —

You had your arms crossed in annoyances as Sanji followed at your heels obediently while you walked through the town. The sun had gone down and it seemed like this village had quite the active nightlife.

“I know you aren’t keen on being paired up with me, my sweet, but I promise we can do anything you want, any shop, any restaurant, it’s on me!” Sanji gushed at you.

You see a seedy looking club with bright neon signs up ahead. You stop walking.

“Anything I want, huh?” You say without turning around.

“Of course, darling!”

“Let’s get drunk.” You smile a bit and cross the street towards the club.

“O-oh? Um… I mean, yes! Whatever you desire!” Sanji jogs after you.

Sanji ducks past you as you approach the club so he could hold the door open for you. You’re immediately met with thumping music and the smell of cigarettes and alcohol.

“See, you can smoke inside!” You say as you pass Sanji to enter the establishment.

“T-that’s nice… OH-“

Once the two of you entered and your eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, you realize that the cocktail waitresses were scantily dressed in mini skirts and bras. You sense that Sanji wasn’t by your side anymore. He was frozen in place. You storm up to him in a huff.

“If you ruin my night of partying because you need a fucking blood transfusion, I’ll make sure you never see another boob again! Not one!” You seethe up at him, poking a stern finger into his chest.

“Right! Okay! I’ll be fine, I promise!” Sanji straightens his tie after snapping out of his breast-induced stupor.

“Now shut up and buy me a drink.” You grab Sanji’s hand and pull him towards two seats at the bar.

Sanji pulls out the barstool for you and allows you to hop up whilst still holding his hand. You pull your hand back once comfortably seated and you feel a bit of a reluctant pull before Sanji releases you from his grasp. You shoot him a “don’t even think about it” kind of glare… one he had received from you many times before.

Sanji clears his throat before beckoning over the barkeep.

“A glass of cabernet, and a-?” Sanji looks at you and cocks a curly brow in question.

“Gin martini. Filthy.” You smile wickedly.

A few moments go by waiting for your drinks so you scope out the place. The club was so dark you had a hard time examining your surroundings. There was a dance floor, heavily packed with gyrating, sweaty people in a mess of hands and limbs. There were also booths scattered around the floor and almost each one was filled with a couple making out or at least engaged in some heavy petting.

“Wow this place is certainly something.” You whistle and turn your stool around to face the bar again. “I think those people at your 8 clock are actually humping.” You shake your head.

Sanji whips his head back to look and immediately turns back to the bar, eyes wide.

“God, I feel like I’m interrupting something.” Sanji’s cheeks blush pink.

The barkeep arrives with your drinks and Sanji pays him, with a hefty tip of course.

Sanji picks up his glass of wine and holds it out to you.

“Cheers to a lovely evening, with an even lovelier lady.”

You find yourself rolling your eyes again. You clink your martini against his drink.

You take several swigs of your drink and set it back down on the bar top. Sanji notices that it’s already over halfway finished.

“You’re not going to be a cheap date, are you?” You gives you a playful smirk.

“Not a chance.” You grin up at him before turning to flag down the bartender again.

— — —

“Okay okay okay, but like, if you HAD to cook a person.. what part are you cooking and how?” You say with a giggle with your umpteenth martini close to your lips.

“That’s absolutely vile, y/n! I would never do such a thing!” Sanji looks at you with wide eyes, a tipsy smile forming at the corners of his mouth.

“Okay but you HAVE to.” You press further.

There was a long pause.

“Well human flesh is the most similar to pork… so I guess I’d slow roast the rump with seasonal vegetables and red wine.” He eventually remarks.

You make eye contact and both immediately burst out laughing.

“Wow it’s incredible to know that the first thing you’d do after I die is eat my ass!” You laugh loudly.

“Sweetheart I’d eat your ass right now at this bar!” Sanji says with a grin.

You choke on your drink and push his shoulder playfully, calling him a pervert in the process. You finish your martini and set the empty glass back down on the bar top. You lift your pointer and middle fingers towards Sanji’s face and snip them together like scissors.

“You are drunk.” Sanji says as he passes you his cigarette.

“Na uh.” You tease as you take a long drag of the cigarette.

“You only ever ask me for a smoke when you’re drunk.” He smirks at you before taking the cigarette back from your slender, delicate fingers.

“How about asking you for a dance then?” You say as you hop down from your bar stool. You grab Sanji’s tie and gentle pull him along as you walk backwards towards the dance floor. Sanji snuffs out his cigarette and follows you with his mouth slightly agape. You lead him through the crowd of sweaty bodies and once you found enough space you pulled him close to you and put your hands around his neck. One of your hands threaded up through his blonde locks as he wrapped his hands around your waist.

The bass-heavy club music was thumping through your ears and the alcohol was flowing through your bloodstream. You couldn’t help but notice how nice it felt to be held by such strong hands as you gyrated your hips against Sanji’s slender ones.

Sanji leans his head down and presses his forehead against yours, you smile drunkenly.

“You look so fucking hot right now…” Sanji says at a volume just loud enough for you to hear him over the thrum of the music.

With your inhibitions completely gone, you kissed him.

You felt Sanji freeze briefly as you pressed your lips against his before he continued his movements against you. The grip on your hips tightens and pulls you even closer against his crotch as he presses his tongue into your mouth.

You gladly accept the intrusion and return the kiss with similar fervor. You make out on the dance floor for what seems like ages before you finally pull back.

“Y/n..” Sanji gazes at you, pupils blown wide from lust and intoxication.

“Come on.” You grab Sanji’s hand and pull him towards a darkened hallway that you could only assume housed the club’s restrooms. You burst through one of the restroom doors, thankfully finding it empty. Sanji locks the door behind you and immediately he attacks your lips again, hands gripping the sides of your face tightly. He kisses you hungrily, like he’ll never taste you again and he needs to get as much of you as he can.

“Slow down, baby boy, I’m not going anywhere…” You purr as you pull back to press Sanji’s back against the locked bathroom door. You drop to your knees. If you had been sober, there would be no way you'd let your bare lets touch the floor of a public bathroom, but here you were anyway.

“M-my love I-I-“ Sanji stutters.

“Just shut up…” You whisper as you nuzzle your nose into Sanji’s clothed erection straining against his suit pants. You unbuckle his belt and pull down his trousers and boxers in one go. It was a bit clumsy but you eventually got to what you were after… Sanji’s thick cock sprang from his waist band and nearly knocked you in the face with how hard he was.

You waste no time and grip Sanji by the base and engulf the head of his cock in your warm, eager mouth.

“Fuck!” Sanji exclaims and threads both his hands into your hair. You were thankful the club’s music was so loud, because you could already tell that this man didn’t know how to be discrete.

You bob your head back and forth down his shaft a few times before loosening your throat and taking him all the way down to the base. You gag and nestle your nose in his neatly trimmed, honey blond hair. You pull back off his cock and spit the remaining saliva back onto his member before catching your breath.

“You’re fucking perfect, y/n..” Sanji says lovingly as he strokes your reddened cheek with his soft thumb. You smile stupidly up at him and shove his cock back into your mouth. “Oh my god, just like that baby… so good…” Sanji continues to coo down at you as you service him with your lips and tongue. You were glad he was a bit drunk or else he would have no doubt shot his load down your throat by now, and you wanted it elsewhere.

You pull off his cock with a lewd pop and a string of saliva still connected it to your lips.

“Fuck me.” You smirk up at him.

“As you wish, love.” Sanji picks you up off the floor and sets you gently yet hurriedly on the sink counter. Sanji pulls your dress down your torso and your breasts spill out. He immediately dips his head to capture one of your tits in his plush lips. You whine at the feeling of his tongue against your sensitive nipple. Sanji notices you bucking your hips in need and pulls off of you to hike your dress above your hips, exposing your wet panties. He spreads your legs with his strong hands as you were seated on the counter. He roughly grips your panties and rips them into pieces so he could have immediate access.

“So beautiful, mon amour…” Sanji whispers to you breathlessly as he slides his cock head up and down through your wetness, not taking his eyes off your glistening sex.

“Please, need you…” You whimper as you wiggle your hips, trying to entice him to finally enter you.

Sanji answers your plea by stuffing you slowly making you loll your head back and moan. His girth stretched you so perfectly, his curve hitting you in your favorite spot.

“Shit…” Sanji is almost speechless as your cunt sucks him in so deeply.

“Fuck me hard, Sanji… please…” You white knuckle grip the edge of the bathroom counter, trying to stay balanced in your inebriated state.

Sanji responds by pulling out and plowing his hips into yours rapidly creating a lewd wet slapping sound that reverberated around the tile walls of the bathroom.

“Fuck! Yes! Like that!” You cry out, your sweet spot being hammered with every thrust. Sanji gripped your hip with one hand and brought one hand to your chin, sticking his thumb in your mouth. You immediately wrap your lips around his digit and suck.

“Sweet little slut… so pretty…” Sanji cooed at you as your pussy greedily accepted his cock over and over and over again.

You moan around Sanji’s thumb and drool drips from your lips.

“My dirty girl… going to cum?” Sanji asks you, teasingly.

You nod furiously.

“Give it to me, my love…”

You oblige and let the tightening band in your lower half snap, gushing your release all over Sanji’s abdomen and thighs. You moan loudly and your eyes roll in the back of your head.

“W-where should I-“

“Inside! Please!” You yelp through overstimulation.

“Shit-“ Sanji grunts and pants as he humps you through his orgasm, spurting hot cum to coat your insides. He rests his forehead against yours for a moment, trying to catch his breath before pulling out. A true gentlemen, he fixes your dress by pulling the skirt back down and pushing your breasts back in gently before pulling up his own trousers.

He picks your shaking form up gently from the counter and sets you down on the tile floor.

“W-we should probably get back…” You say softly.

“You’re right, come, love.” Sanji grabs your hand and walks you out of the bathroom and out of the club entirely.

Sanji doesn’t release your hand the whole walk back to the ship and you don’t try to pull it away. Several times on the trip back you look at each other and break into fits of giggles. No words needed to be said. Eventually, you make it back to the Sunny and cross the gangplank, hoping to slip to your bedroom unnoticed by any of your crew members.

“Geez, you guys look like shit. You get into a fight?” You turn after taking only just two steps onto the ship. Zoro was sitting up against the mast on night watch. You groan.

“Don’t you need to go be stupid somewhere else, moss head?” Sanji angrily retorts.

“And what the fuck happened to your dress, y/n? You piss yourself or something? You really are a lightweight.”

You look down and notice the stain on your dress and the wetness on the inside of your legs.

“Um! Maybe I should shower! Goodnight Zoro! Care to join me, Sanji It was a long night after all…” You rush towards the ship’s bathroom.

Sanji was hot at your heels, his green haired rival quickly forgotten.

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