#SO OF COURSE I WAS GONNA FUCKING DECK HIM. IT WAS THE LAST STRAW

[candyradium]

WE HAVE ENGAGED IN PVP I REPEAT WE HAVE ENGAGED IN PVP

WE HAVE REUNITED WITH THE PC WHO JOINED THE VILLAINS AND PC ON PC VIOLENCE HAS OCCURRED

(AND I THREW THE FIRST PUNCH ^_^)

#candy posts #candy plays dnd #I FEEL SO ALIVE #WAS IT THE SMARTEST DECISION??? FUCK NO WE ARE IN A FIEND-OCCUPIED PIRATE CITY AND ARE BEING ACTIVELY HUNTED DOWN FOR BEING INSURGENTS #BUT HE INSULTED MY DEAD GANG (WHO HE FRAMED FOR A THEFT AND THUS WAS PARTIALLY RESPONSIBLE FOR THE DEATHS OF) #(AND THEN STARTED WORKING FOR THEIR MURDERERS) #SO OF COURSE I WAS GONNA FUCKING DECK HIM. IT WAS THE LAST STRAW #NO MORE WORDS NO MORE SECOND CHANCES IT'S VIOLENCE TIME. THERE'S NO GOING BACK NOW #sirius has fuckin snapped bro hes had so much balled up anger in him the entire time ive been playing him and its finally exploded outwards #and oh fucking boy is there going to be consequences. for everyone involved and anyone else nearby. roughly within 10 feet. #god i fucking love making split-second reckless decisions without thinking. just immediate action. its so freeing. no more anxiety #just having fun through comitting violence :] #im not kidding abt that btw its so fun and its so good for my anxiety to just. no thoughts head empty do shit. its so great i love dnd

[vivwritesfics]

Slow Down, You're Gonna Crash

Chapter Three

Summary: Being a Verstappen means realising that you'll never be as good as her brother. She knew it. That was why she ran away to California. Of course, she's gonna fall for the older, naval aviator. And, of course, it pisses her family off.

Bradley Bradshaw x F1!Driver Reader

Warnings: Allusions to smut

1.5K

Series Masterlist

Would she have stayed in San Diego if it wasn't for the handsome aviator she had spent the night in a few days ago? No. No she would have been on her way, off to the next state.

But here she still was, in San Diego, staying in that shitty motel. She had called on Bradley Bradshaw, more times than she cared to admit. Every day he was working, but then he'd pick her up once he was finished, in his aviator uniform (you know, those hot overalls), and take her... wherever, showing her around North Island.

On her third night of overstaying her welcome in San Diego, she returned to The Hard Deck. Bradley had said he was going to be there and that she should join him, and who was she to say no to that?

She pulled up in the McLaren, parking herself beside the Bronco. Bradley's Bronco. She couldn't stop herself from smiling as she climbed out of the McLaren.

She didn't know about the group of aviators inside, updating Bradley about the super cool car they'd seen a few days ago. The car that Bradley definitely hadn't seen because he was 'too busy making eyes at that girl'.

Bradley said nothing. He didn't tell them that he knew who the McLaren belonged to. He didn't tell them that she'd be on her way now.

He lifted his beer to the lips, looking towards the door as she walked in. And, when Bradley looked, the rest of his old squad did to. Simply because he wasn't listening, and Mickey and Reuben wanted to know what on earth could have been more interesting than the fucking cool McLaren they'd seen a few days ago.

But then they saw it, outside of The Hard Deck. That fucking cool McLaren they'd seen a few days ago. "No way," Mickey couldn't stop himself from saying as Bradley ordered her a drink (gin and tonic, he'd learnt that by now).

"Hey," he said, passing her the drink as she tucked herself into his side. It looked far too domestic for two people that hardly knew each other.

"Hey," she replied, mirroring him as she looked up at him. She pulled his aviators from his face and tucked them into his shirt pocket.

And just as Bradley opened his pretty mouth, just as he was about to say something, he was interrupted. "Rooster!" Mickey shouted. "That McLaren is back! The person that owns it has got to be in here."

Bradley simply looked from Mickey to her. "Do you wanna tell him?" He asked, gently squeezing her shoulder

"Fine," she said and rolled her eyes, but it wasn't malicious. She shoved her gin and tonic into Bradley's hand and held her hand out towards Mickey. "Yeah, it's my Mclaren. Or, I'm borrowing it from a friend."

"Dude, who the hell are you friends with?"

She wore a sort of mischievous smile as she shrugged her shoulders.

But she didn't get a chance to say much more. Not before another, much older man approached. His smile was so white it was almost blinding as he greeted the woman behind the bar fondly, and then greeted the squad.

His eyes locked onto her. "Holy shit," he couldn't stop himself from saying as he pulled down his sun glasses. And then he said her name, the pronunciation of Verstappen perfect.

Her heart dropped as everyone, including Bradley, looked at her. But she let that painted, PR smile cross her lips. "Big Formula One fan?" She asked as she took her drink from Bradley's hands.

"Incredibly big," he said as a drink was passed to him. "I was in Vegas last year, saw your drive, it was incredibly impressive."

She paused, straw between her lips. The grumble she released wasn't supposed to be audible, but she couldn’t exactly control that. "Yeah, Vegas was a shit show," she mumbled. "Celebrated the end of it like the sun would never rise, though."

She didn't say the things she wanted to about Vegas, that it was the best drive her team had seen all year, but it still wasn't enough to keep her seat. There was anger that burned in her chest, but she pushed it away as she finished her drink.

Suddenly there was a crowd of aviators around her, asking her question after question. She tried to answer as best as she could, but the questions just kept coming. It was too much, all too much, and she couldn't get away. Back pressed against the bar, she answered as many questions as she could.

But she couldn't stop herself from looking around in panic for Bradley. He'd been next to her just moments ago, where the hell had he gone?

When she stumbled over an answer, she was ready to throw up. But then the bell from the bar rang. All of the aviators stopped and looked towards the bar owner. "Who's tab?" One of the younger ones had asked.

The bar owner shook her head. "No tab, just leave the poor girl alone," she said.

The aviators backed off, returning to the pool table and the darts board. She sat up at the bar, ready to order herself a drink (since Bradley had apparently ordered her a new one and taken off with it).

But, as she sat, the older aviator, the one who had recognised her, sat on the bar stood beside her. "Sorry about that," he said as he finished his drink. "I can't help but think I started that."

She shrugged her shoulders as the bar owner placed the gin and tonic in front of her. "Just surprised that somebody out here recognised me. I thought most of the states was into Nascar," she muttered.

Maverick laughed, his way of trying to ease the tension. But she didn’t laugh back. So, he took the next logical step and shifted the focus of the conversation away from her. "How d'you know Bradley?"

Her shoulders raised and fell in a shrug. "Oh, you know. From around, sleeping together, all that shit," she mumbled and finished her second gin and tonic, piano music starting up from somewhere in the bar.

As soon as her glass was back down on the bar top, she slipped out of her seat. Her eyes scanned the room, searching for Bradley and, more importantly, her missing gin and tonic.

She found Bradley at the piano, pressing his fingers to the keys. His fingers were big, she knew from experience, but they played such delicate music. She sat on the bench next to him and took a drunken minute (which, in reality, was a minute and a half) to listen.

"I thought you said you were a car mechanic," said Bradley, over the delicate sounds of Billy Joel (yes, he was particularly fond of Jerry Lee Lewis, especially after all of the stories his mother had told him about his father, but he saved that for when the bar was packed, when there were oh so many people gathered around the piano, singing along with him. While the bar was quiet, Bradley played other songs he had learnt through his childhood.)

She let out a breath. "Would you have treated me differently if I was honest?" She asked and laid her head against his shoulder.

Bradley couldn't answer that. He didn't know if he would have treated her any differently if he knew who she was. A rather large part of him knew that he wouldn't, that he'd be the same gentleman that he had been since the moment he met her, but the was that small bit of doubt in the back of his mind.

The music dimmed with less notes to fill it as he reached up for her gin and tonic. He passed it to her and placed it in her hands, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Sing along with me," he said and went back to playing.

That she was happy to do. She couldn't couldn't play the piano, she couldn't sing, but she was still having the time of her life.

And, as she got into it, the door of The Hard Deck opened. Bradley didn't turn around the greet the person, so she didn't greet them either. She was having too much fun, shouting the lyrics to the song at Bradley as he did the same to her.

It took all of her willpower to keep singing, to not stop him to kiss him.

"Have you guys seen that sweet McLaren outside?" Asked the person who walked over to the piano, interrupting the singing. She rolled her eyes when he let out a whistle.

But, after all of their prodding, the rest of the dagger squad thought the McLaren was old news, too. Why wouldn't they when they had a Formula One Driver singing with their Rooster. "Shut up, Bagman," One of them called, and the singing resumed.

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#bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley bradshaw smut #bradley bradshaw x you #rooster #rooster imagine #rooster x reader #rooster fluff #rooster smut #rooster x you #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun imagine #top gun rooster #rooster top gun #top gun fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw

[rayshippouuchiha]

Concept, Skull gets hella drunk one night, and the others are doing general drinking games/teasing type of stuff. They decide to crack on Skull cause he's the youngest and so he's probably not got much experience. Cue Skull whipping out an unnecessarily erotic comparison between what he's like as a sex partner and his abilities with a motorcycle.

Reborn refuses to let Skull get on a motorcycle around him ever again, he can't embarrass himself with his thirst like that in front of others.

So I, of course, had to tweak it just a bit:

The thing is, Skull's never been much of a drinker.

And, despite what Reborn and Colonnello like to say, it's not because he's a lightweight.

No, it's always been the opposite problem with Skull.

It takes a staggering amount of dangerously high-proof alcohol to get him actually drunk.

So much so that Skull had only ever been actually and fully drunk once in his life. He'd never bothered again because, well, most bars wouldn't serve that amount of alcohol to a single person and, most importantly of all, it was an outrageously expensive ordeal.

He'd always had better things to spend whatever money he might have on than trying to get wasted.

Skull's long suspected some kind of Flame fuckery at work but hasn't bothered to really look into it.

Still, whenever drinking had come up with the Arcobaleno before the curse Skull either hadn't bothered to drink at all or had gone for the kind of fruit-filled or extravagant cocktail that always got him a lot of ribbing.

Because if he wasn't going to be able to get drunk but they weren't going to let him leave, then he should at least be able to drink something interesting that doesn't taste like actual paint thinner.

But now? After a handful of decades in the Mafia and with all of the money he's actually managed to accumulate plus an entire case of the specially formulated liquor Verde had cooked up?

Now Skull is well and truly on his way to being wasted.

Which is the perfect time for Skull to remember that, unlike what most would probably think, he's not the loud and overly obnoxious or casually violent type of drunk.

No, that's Colonnello and Fon in order.

Instead, Drunk Skull tends to be way more honest and mouthy than Sober Skull.

"Boo," Colonnello tosses a handful of pretzels in Skull's direction even as he folds yet another hand of cards to Reborn. "You suck Skull, thought you'd be more interesting than this when we finally got you wasted. Come on, be entertaining."

Skull's not sure why anyone's willing to play poker, even Mafia Poker, with Reborn when the fucker so obviously counts cards no matter how many decks are used.

"Save the pigtail pulling for Lal, okay Nello?" Skull finds himself saying, eyes on his own game of Mafia Solitaire and one hand playing with his glittery purple crazy straw. His tall glass of violently green alcohol is a little less than half full and Skull is feeling more than a bit loose. "I'm not gonna fuck you no matter how drunk I get, you're not really my type."

"Hey!" Colonnello squawks, the beer bottle in his hand suddenly hurtling in Skull's direction. "My heart and body belong to Lal alone, asshole."

Skull catches the bottle and then casually tosses it toward the recycling bin that's just visible in the kitchen from where he's sitting. It goes in of course, Skull hadn't filled in for the knife-throwing act as a teenager more than once without learning how to aim his projectiles.

"I've seen your dick, Nello," Skull can't help but tease as he lays down an Ace Of Knives, "that's not as much of a flex as you think it is. Be happy to give you some tips though if you're ready to stop disappointing Lal."

Colonnello looks appropriately scandalized, Reborn's sporting that little smirk of his that's basically a laugh, and beside Colonnello Lal Mirch just snorts into her whiskey tumbler, obviously amused.

Which is both true and false. Skull's absolutely seen Colonnello's dick enough to last him a lifetime but he's not actually as tragic as Skull's making him out to be. Not that Skull will ever admit that.

If there's one thing he's good at after all it's committing to The Bit.

"Brave talk from the group baby," Colonnello cuts back. "Bet you've never even touched a woman, and no your mom doesn't count."

There's a round of immature snickers around the table that Skull honestly can't find fault in since even Verde, Viper, and Fon had joined in.

But, for once, Skull is nowhere near ready to back down.

"Well if my mom doesn't count, then your mom probably doesn't either huh?" Skull bats his lashes at Colonello. "If so then you should probably tell her to stop calling me."

He gets a fist full of peanuts thrown at him this time.

"You know, Skull," Reborn practically slinks his way into the conversation, voice sly, "if you're interested in getting some actual experience I'm sure I know a few ways to help you out."

And as is so often the case with Reborn, Skull's not sure if that's an offer or a threat.

Probably both if he's being honest.

Either way it's also a taunt Skull just can't let stand like he normally would.

"Yelena and Drago Marckovich," Skull lets his tongue wrap around the names.

"Oh?" Reborn's attention is, as always, like being put underneath a combination spotlight/microscope. "And who, pray tell, are they?"

Skull leans back in his chair, aware of how he's somehow gathered everyone in the room's attention.

Which, to be fair, is what he does best.

"They were fraternal twins whose parents ran our high wire act," Skull tells them all. "Drago was one of the group's apprentice mechanics and Yelena was a contortionist."

Skull takes a sip of his drink.

"They were eighteen, gorgeous, and never did anything apart. They're the ones who helped me put my first bike together from the ground up too." Skull can't help the happy little sigh he huffs out. Those really had been an excellent six months. "Couldn't have picked a better pair to lose my virginity to. Taught me how to do all kinds of tricks, both on and off the bike."

There's a moment's silence.

"Bullshit," Colonnello barks out, one hand slapping down onto the tabletop. "No way in hell you bagged twins."

"Absolutely not," Skull agrees readily only to cut Colonnello's smug look off at the knees. "I was sixteen and had no idea what I was doing. They bagged me. Wasn't like I was going to say no."

Across the table, Lal actually hoots with laughter.

"They taught me the foundation for everything I know," Skull keeps going. "Yelena? Now she was all about taking those curves and corners you know? Girl could get in and out of the tightest spaces, taught me how to do the same."

Lal is outright giggling now and Colonnello's all flush faced with his mouth hanging open.

"And Drago?" Skull pauses, flicks his tongue out to play with his lip ring. Cuts his eyes just a bit in Reborn's direction. "Well let's just say he really lived up to his name. He helped me with my stamina. Helped me learn how to really ride."

The twins had been kind and fun and when their arrangement had run its course they'd parted as friends which is something Skull will always be thankful for.

"Of course," Skull waves his straw carelessly through the air around him, "when I left to strike out on my own I had to refine my technique on my own, develop my own skills and tricks, that kind of thing. Luckily there was never a shortage of eager and willing volunteers to work with. I learn better by doing and I've always been good with my hands anyways so it was fun, finding new bodies to work with and figuring out all the ways to lay each one of them out and make them purr."

Skull tosses back the rest of his drink and pushes himself up onto his feet.

"I grew up in the circus and had my own traveling stunt show by 19," Skull tells them all, more than a bit amused by the turn the evening had taken. "I've fucked my way across six continents, various oceans, and a wide variety of islands."

Skull shoves his hands into the pockets of his low-hanging sweatpants and ambles towards the veranda door.

The cool grass, wide open sky, and quiet of the garden out back are practically calling his name by this point.

There's a moment's silence and then he hears a chair scrape across the floor loudly behind him.

Skull keeps walking, doesn't bother to look back.

The fedora that drops down on top of his head isn't as much of a surprise to Skull as it might have been five or so bottles ago.

"I could stand to hear a bit more about your ,,, unexpected expertise," Reborn practically purrs from Skull's side, one large, warm hand splaying itself possessively across the small of Skull's back.

"Jealous?" Skull can't help but snip back.

"Oh no," Reborn's grin is more than a bit dark and his eyes are a hawkish sort of golden. "Jealousy implies a lack of skill. And trust me, bellissimo, that's one thing you'll never have to worry about with me."

#RayRambles #KHR #Katekyo Hitman Reborn #KHR Skull #RebornSkull #KHR Drabble

[deathlikesdeep-dish]

Shower [Zoro x Reader]

Just a quick lil somethin that I whipped up this morning feat. our favorite green-haired idiot.

Hope y’all enjoy! x

Scenario: Zoro being convinced by his s/o to finally take a damn shower

Warnings: cussing (obvs), mild nsfw

 It’s been 6 days. You think to yourself with a small shudder. The first few days, you almost don’t mind. It’s kinda sexy, the musty scent. It’s a reminder of the hard work that he puts himself through daily. And of course, the visual benefits of that work are certainly worth a mild stench. But 6 days? It’s beyond a mild stench now. It’s a fucking identity trait. You’d only been together for a couple months, so you don’t exactly know what the proper way to bring up this kind of shit. Like “hey babe, I’d love to really take a trip to the bone zone and all, but if we do right now, Brook isn’t gonna be the only dead one on the ship.” Even if you did say that, he’d be so confused, the adorable idiot, and probably pretty dejected too. You sigh, squeezing your eyes closed and press your fingertips to your temples.

 “I’m just gonna have to manipulate the poor boy.” You decide out loud, having no idea how to manage that.

 “Who are we manipulating?” Nami pops her head in the room with a sly grin.

 You nod your head in a greeting to her. “Zoro,” you say with exasperation. “To take a shower.”

Nami laughs loudly. “Good fucking luck,” she’s almost crying with how hard she’s laughing. “I’ve been barking up that tree since the literal day I met him.”

 This is not what you needed to hear. You groan and flop back on your mattress, clapping your hand over your eyes. After another few moments of laughing, you feel Nami sit next to you on the edge of the bed. “Y/n, the answer is obvious.”

 You raise an eyebrow and glance up at through the parted fingers over your eyes.

“Oh?” You ask.

 “Shower sex, duh.” Nami replies, sticking her tongue out at you with a wink.

 You flush. Goddamn it. You think. Seductive manipulation is not precisely your forte. Especially with someone as completely dense as Zoro. In some ways, Zoro is one of the most intelligent people you know. He’s instinctual, able to observe his environment, adaptable and cunning in a fight. But with other people? That he actually likes? Let’s just say the wheel is spinning, but the hamster’s dead. Very dead.

 “I was afraid of this,” you say gravely.

 Nami rolls her eyes. “Christ, y/n. You’re acting like it’s such a chore to have sex with your boyfriend.”

 “UGH.” You throw a pillow at her, and she cackles again as she stands up to walk towards the door.

 “You’re a true champ, y/n. From all of us Straw-hat Pirates, we thank you for your service.” She salutes, dodging another pillow that you chuck her direction as she walks out the door.

 As you sit on the edge of your bed, you grab the last pillow left and shove it into your face, letting it stifle the almost inhuman, frustrated screech that rips through your throat.

 The sound dissipates, and you stand up, heading up to the Crow’s Nest, where you know the smelly swordsman will be. Nami and Robin snicker at you as you pass and you flip them off crudely. You climb up the ladder to the Crow’s Nest and open the hatch, pulling yourself inside.

 You smell him before you can see him. Why am I doing this to myself? Why?  

 You turn towards the sound of heavy breathing and you see Zoro, in all his bare-chested glory, doing one-armed hand stand push-ups while he used the free arm to curl a massive dumbbell.

 Oh yeah, that’s why. You reply internally.

 His back is to you, so you’re able to watch the muscles of his back and shoulders ripple beneath his tanned skin effortlessly. He’s taken his long green coat off, leaving him in only his pants and boots. You can see droplets of sweat dripping down his back, each bead following a different muscular curve. He makes soft grunting noises with each rep and you feel the knot in your stomach tighten and your heart race.

 You clear your throat softly, hoping to gain his attention. He doesn’t turn, only switching the role of each arm. So, you try again, this time a bit louder.

 You watch him stiffen at the disturbance, his head shooting down between his arms to look at the intruder. His steely eyes meet yours and soften, along with his body and he gives you a grin, clearly pleased to see you. He pushes himself up and flips upright to land on his feet before turning to greet you.

 “Hey y/n,” He smiles again and grabs a towel off a rack to wipe his face and hair.

 He begins to walk toward you and you almost forget your mission. He looks so handsome, especially with that wide grin that he typically only reserves for you. His green hair is damp, making it a slightly darker shade than usual, and he drapes the towel over the back of his neck. He halts in front of you, his hands moving to grip each end of the towel casually.

 “What’s up?” He says.

 You realize you haven’t taken a breath for a few moments, and you inhale to reply to him. Rookie mistake. The smell of him hits you again, and you cough without warning.

 Shit, you think. Don’t screw around, y’n. Get this damn mosshead in the shower with you pronto.

 “Hey,” You reply, forcing yourself into a smile. “Just came up here to check on you. How are you doing?”

 He smiles again, the oblivious bastard. “Oh, okay. I’m fine. Just doing the usual,” he replies. “Shit, your face had me going for a second. I thought something might be wrong,” He chuckles.

 You pause a beat too long. He notices. Fuck. “…is there something wrong, y/n?” He asks, now somewhat nervous.

 “Oh no!” You say too quickly. “No, no, nothing’s wrong. I just came up here because…” You know you need to calm down if you’re going to attempt anything that mildly looks like seduction.

 You take a breath and drop your gaze, now looking at him from underneath your eyelashes flirtatiously. “I came up here because I was about to take a shower...” You place a hand on his warm chest and push up to the shell of his ear. You lower your voice. “And I was wondering if you might want to join me?”

 You feel him stiffen again beneath the hand on his chest and his breath hitch. His hands come up to lightly grip your hips. “You what?” He asks, his voice suddenly a little rougher.

 You kiss the soft skin just beneath his angled jaw. “Join me. In the shower.” You repeat.

 His grip on your hips tightens for a second before he grabs your hand suddenly, pulling you towards the hatch of the Crow’s Nest. It’s so fast that you almost can’t process what’s happening. He opens the hatch with his foot.

 “Oh, so you want to come?” You manage. He swoops you up into his arms and jumps down the hatch without regard to the ladder. You land firmly on the deck below and he doesn’t bother to set you down.

 “Zoro?” You ask, mesmerized by the concentration on his face. He shifts to hold you with one arm as he opens the door to the bath house room, slamming it behind him. He sets you down and wraps strong arms around your waist, kissing your neck. “Get in the shower. Now.” He commands.

 Internal screams.

 And in that moment, as the water turns on and your simple, oblivious, gorgeous greenette quickly strips away the rest of his clothes, you don’t know what you’re more excited about, the amazing sex that you’re about to have, or the fact that the simple, oblivious, gorgeous greenette is finally going to be fucking clean.

#roronoazoro #zoro x reader #zoroxreader #zoro #onepiece #scenario #one piece scenario #writing #writing challenge #poor oblivious bastard

[nightshade-minho]

-Pool Party-

Warnings: jealous!Minho, fingering, degradation, unprotected sex, creampie, cum play, D/S dynamics, microscopic amounts of fluff, prospect of a gangbang at the end.

Jealousy. It was an emotion that Minho found himself feeling often, but never in this intensity.

There you were, laughing along with Hyunjin and Chan, complimenting them on their swimming skills. Normally, Minho was alright with you being affectionate with his friends, however this situation was different.

Why? ‘Cause there you were, sitting on the deck chair beside the pool, clad in nothing but the skimpiest blue bikini he’s ever seen. Seriously, he never even knew you owned something like that!

You looked sexy and ethereal, and he couldn’t help but think about how that’s probably what the guys were thinking too.

“I’m way better than Chan at swimming. Right, y/n?”

You giggled as Chan slapped Hyunjin’s arm. “Stop being so immature, Jinnie.”

“You’re just scared I’m right. Hey, how about we race each other in the pool? Y/n, you be the referee.”

Minho scoffed and looked away as the two of them immediately jumped in, scrambling over themselves to impress you.

The final nail in the coffin was when Jisung came to sit next to you, offering you a bowl of watermelon.

“You look amazing, y/n. Didn’t peg you to be the bikini kind, ya know? I’m not gonna lie, it really suits you...”

That was the last straw. The jealousy in him bubbled and overflowed, mixing with anger. He stood up, walking over to the two of you and grabbing your wrist tightly, pulling you up in the process. You squeaked, dropping the watermelon piece in your hand. Confused, you tried to wriggle out of his grasp in vain.

He flashed a fake smile at Jisung. “Sorry Sung, y/n and I need to have a little talk, if that’s alright with you.” With that, he dragged you behind him into the house, shoving you into a bathroom and locking the door behind him.

He backed you up against the wall, lips inches away from yours.

“M-min? What’s wrong?”

“I’ll tell you what’s wrong.”

His hand, still holding your wrist, pinned it above your head. His other hand came down to cup your boob. He used his finger to stroke your nipple softly until it became hard, poking through the fabric.

“You’re dressed like a slut.”

You bit your lip, slight arousal mixing with the fear and confusion. “Come on Min. Now? Really?” You smiled nervously. “The others will wonder what we’re doing.”

“Let them.” He repeated his motions with your other nipple. “Do you have no idea what you look like right now? What you’re wearing is barely covering anything up. And the way you were flirting with my friends?”

He pinched your nipple hard, causing you to squeal. “If you want to dress and act like a slut, you’re gonna get treated like one.”

His fingers moved down to rub your clit over the bikini bottoms and you arched your back, a moan ripping through your throat. His actions continued until your bikini bottoms were soaked. Moving them to the side, his fingers stroked around your slit for a second before they slipped in with a squelch. Minho’s lips found their way to your neck, the hand holding up your wrist coming down to grab a handful of your hair, tugging your head up to expose your neck more.

“I’m going to mark you up so good. When we leave, everyone will know that you’re mine. You belong to me, understood?”

You nodded pathetically, his possessiveness driving you to grind down harder on his fingers. He sped up, his wet mouth sliding over your neck, sucking and biting as his fingers pumped in and out of you.

All of a sudden, his fingers weren’t in you anymore, and he pulled away from your neck, looking you in the eye. “Turn around.”

You obliged, turning around. Almost immediately, a harsh spank was laid on your ass, followed by another one.

“Bad girl. I want to spank you more, but I’m eager to get you back out there in the state you’re in right now.”

He stepped backwards a little, admiring the handprint on your ass. He slowly turned you around, smiling widely as he observed your erect nipples as well as the hickeys littered all over your neck.

“Perfect. Now, get up on that sink.”

He quickly removed his bathing trunks as you did so, spreading your legs wide. You bent down to remove your bikini bottom when he slapped your hand.

“No. The bikini stays on.”

Minho pumped his dick in his hand before pushing your bottoms to the side, leading himself to your sopping wet entrance.

He stopped short, his tip grazing your slit as he looked deep into your eyes, some indecipherable emotion behind his.

But then he was pushing into you, more and more, until his tip was pressing against your cervix. It was the most pleasurable pain you’d ever felt. He leaned forward to press his lips to yours, beginning to thrust. You aren’t really kissing- his constant thrusts make that impossible. Lips messily sliding over each other, both of your moans were muffled.

Minho’s tongue slid past your lips, and you nearly lost your mind as you felt his thick cock stimulating your g-spot consistently. He pulled away, watching where your bodies are connected.

“Look, baby. Look how your greedy pussy desperately swallows my cock. You’re just my little cockslut aren’t you?”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head, and you tried to speak but couldn’t. Heck, you could barely breathe!

He delivers a particularly sharp thrust, causing you to whine loudly. “Answer me.”

You open your eyes, trying to concentrate on Minho’s face, but the pleasure was too blinding.

“Dumb little whore, with your useless brain. All you can think about is my cock, huh? Can’t even formulate words.”

His hands came up to undo the bow on your bikini top, watching as your now naked breasts bounced with every thrust.

“Fuck, I’m gonna-“

You felt Minho spill inside you, his cock twitching as he came. He rested his head on your shoulder as he rode out his orgasm, staying like that for a while.

“Hey...y/n?”

“Mm...?”

“I love you. You can wear whatever you want, cause you’re my intelligent, sweet, talented babygirl...and sometimes I feel like I go too far.”

He lifted his head to look you in the eyes.

“Minho...you know I love it.”

His wicked smirk slowly came back to his face. “Great, because I’m not done yet.”

Confused, you watched as he pulled out, his cum slowly seeping out of you. His fingers came up to rub his fluids into your pussy, and you sighed, feeling your orgasm build.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice that you didn’t cum.”

He lifted you all of a sudden, carrying you bridal style as he kicked open the door.

“M-minho? What’re you doing?”

“Taking you to the others, of course. I feel bad keeping this meal all to myself. After all, sharing is caring, right?”

•••

(This was originally supposed to have a much filthier ending...but I chose against it. Maybe I should do a part 2?)

#minho #lee know #lee minho #minho smut #lee know smut #lee minho smut #smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #skz #stray kids

[barrysjumpsuit]

the dark side - jj maybank x shoupe’s daughter, ch. 2

w/c: 2.5k

warnings: mentions of domestic abuse

summary:  catherine shoupe has the perfect life. when she gets hired by heyward to run groceries, she has a new coworker - jj maybank. as the deputy’s daughter, she can’t help but hate him. but when jj decides to bring her to the dark side and woo her over, cat not only has to hide her activities from her father, but learn who her father really is.

a/n: this is mainly character development (with plenty of JJ), angst and fluff to come next chapter :-) for the first chapter my tags weren’t working, so if you haven’t read it, you can read chapter 1 here

----

“Don’t call me that,” she snapped, and Pope was quickly in between the two of them.

“Can we not?” he addressed both of them, exasperated. “At least not in front of my dad.”

Cat rolled her eyes, moving to the side of the boat to push off the dock while JJ sauntered to the steering wheel. 

Maybe this was a bad choice. Lane three sounded nice right now. She tried to push her thoughts away as she sat on the back of the boat.

Pope sat down next to her, and they sat silently until he spoke. “You know, Cat, he was a kid back then.”

“He still said and did that stuff though,” she grumbled, picking at the frayed hems of her denim shorts. “And nothing has changed since then.”

She remembered that day well. Back when she went to the same middle school as Pope and JJ and the rest of their crew. It was the age when kids become cliquey, and start to push boundaries. Cat had always been the girl whose dad was a cop, and when she was younger, it was cool. He would do talks at her school. Her classmates’ attitudes changed once she hit middle school. Kids were becoming more in tune with their parents’ perspectives on cops, and they started getting trouble as well. In a place like the Outer Banks, although it is paradise on Earth, kids got bored.

Kids like JJ. He had always had a troubled life in addition to a smart mouth and loose lips.

She overheard him one day, talking about how his father would beat his mother. Cat felt like it was her obligation to tell her dad and, after enough pestering and begging from her, he agreed to look into it.

A few days later, JJ had decked her across the face with a solid right hook. He yelled at her, awful things about how her father was destroying families and lives and that she was too dumb to see it.

A month later, his mother left them in the middle of the night.

The two of them hadn’t associated since. Cat’s dad brought him up sometimes. “JJ stole another box of condoms from the Dollar General.” “JJ got into another fight at the Boneyard.” “Someone saw JJ stumbling down main street drunk.”

Ever since his mother left, JJ’s mischief escalated.

Cat looked over at him, piloting the boat. His back was to her, and he was leaning against the side of the cabin, gazing out onto the water, his loose hair fluttering in the same breeze that rustled the grocery bags. 

JJ looked over towards her, his icy blue gaze chilling her despite the warm air. Looking away, she trained her eyes on her feet.

“Brr,” Pope said, as if reading her mind.

“He can apologize to me,” Cat decided, thinking out loud. Part of her hoped her words were lost in the wind, so that JJ didn’t hear them. Another part of her hoped he heard.

Pope just sighed before they launched into small talk the rest of the short ride to Figure Eight. It didn’t take long; JJ pulled the boat up beside the dock while Cat jumped onto the worn wood, clipping the boat in at the stern and tying it at the bow.

As Pope and JJ handed the groceries down to her, she noticed that JJ’s gaze was intense and lingering. Purposefully avoiding it, once the last of the groceries were unloaded, she picked up the bags and started walking down the dock to the Thompson’s house.

The boys eventually caught up to her, and they delivered the groceries, Mrs. Thompson slipping each of them a $20 bill as a tip.

“Is this a normal thing?” Cat asked, holding up the money as soon as they were on their way back to the boat.

“Sure is,” Pope said.

“The more good looking you are, the more they tip,” JJ said, peering at Cat over his sunglasses and pretending to lick the money. It was crumpled up from being shoved in his pocket.

The three of them finished up six more deliveries that day. The sun was setting as they docked at Heyward’s. Cat’s skin was reddened from the sun, her hair sticking to her face with sweat. Her interaction with JJ hadn’t been any more than a couple brief exchanges. Luckily, Pope seemed to stick to Cat’s side and JJ kept to himself.

Dinner was just being put on the table as Cat got home, and she didn’t bother cleaning up before sitting down. Her parents flooded her with questions about her new job. She told them about Pope, but not about JJ.

----

The first week of work had passed uneventfully. Most days she worked with JJ, but a couple of days, it was just her and Pope. JJ hadn’t addressed the tension between them, and Cat sure as hell wasn’t going to make the first move. He largely ignored her when they worked, which she was fine with.

She decided she liked the job well enough. She made good money with the pay raise and tips, and she could work on her tan, rolling up the sleeves of her work t-shirts and knotting them at the bottom while she was on the boat for a little extra breeze and exposed skin. 

Cat and JJ had just finished their last delivery of the day. The sun was slowly dropping down towards the horizon, casting everything in deep shadows and a golden glow. She definitely couldn’t help but notice JJ’s hair, tousled by the wind of the day, and how it caught the evening rays of sunlight as he disconnected the gas can from the boat.

End of the day checks usually went pretty quickly. There was a checklist kept on board that Cat went over, and she held it while she locked up the cabin of the boat.

JJ’s voice sounded from behind her. “Kitty Cat…” 

“Don’t call me that,” she interrupted, not looking up from what she was doing and maneuvering the padlock so that she could lock the door.

“...I’ve blamed you, you know. This whole time.”

JJ’s words made Cat stop going through the checklist. “Excuse me?”

“Fuck the checklist,” he said, pulling it from her hands and tossing it on the table in the middle of the boat. Did JJ want to get real with her? The look on his face said yes: the way his blue eyes were hard yet soft, the way his jaw was clenched, the way his fists were balled up. 

Cat raised her chin to meet his gaze before he continued.

“I’ve blamed you for the past five years. For everything.”

“That’s not very ni-”

“Shut the fuck up and let me talk,” he burst, bringing his hands up and waving them in a frenzy. Cat took a step back at the movement, and JJ’s face dropped. “Cat, I-”

She turned and walked away, but she could only walk a few feet until she was sitting on the side of the boat. JJ sighed, then went to sit next to her. He was silent for a few moments before speaking. “I’d like to talk things out between us. Want to get dinner?”

“My parents are expecting me home for dinner,” she replied, not looking at him. He sighed, moving slightly.

“Oh. Yeah. Of course,” he said quietly. “I forgot people do that kind of thing.”

His words hurt. She felt stabbing pangs of guilt inside her.

Almost without realizing, Cat picked up her phone, dialing her father.

“Hey Cat, what’s up?” he answered, the sound muffled. She heard the clicking of a turn signal in the background.

“Hey dad, I’m not going to be able to make it home for dinner tonight. We’re flooded with orders at work and have to do some late runs.”

“Alright sweetie, just text me when you’re on your way home, okay? We’ll save you some leftovers.”

“Thanks dad, love you.”

“Love you too, Cat. Be careful on the water tonight.”

At that, Cat hung up, meeting JJ’s eyes for the first time. He raised his eyebrows at her. 

“Where are we going, Maybank?” she asked, and a grin spread across his face.

Half an hour later, they were seated on the back patio of The Wreck, JJ claiming the Carreras gave him a “best friend discount”. They ordered, then sat in an awkward silence, Cat waiting for JJ to speak up.

“I’m sorry I hit you that one time,” he said suddenly, pulling Cat’s eyes up to meet his intense gaze. “I never should have done that. You were worried about me. You were trying to help. I never got to thank you for that.”

“I’m sorry I made your business mine,” she replied quietly. Cat was absently messing with the paper straw wrapper, folding it and ripping it. “I guess I just… felt like I had to.”

JJ was nodding, clearly thinking about her words and how to respond. 

“I shouldn’t have blamed you like I did,” he said finally, giving her a tight smile. “It was just a lot. At the time. It’s still a lot.”

“Want to talk about it?” she asked, and JJ looked up from his drink, raising an eyebrow.

“You’re kidding,” he said, his voice flat.

“I won’t tell my dad. I promise.”

JJ smiled, which turned into a laugh, dimples cratering his cheeks and his hair falling in his face. Behind him, the sun was almost set, only the faintest of oranges lighting up the otherwise dark sky.

“This is a conversation for another day, kitty Cat,” he said, sitting back in his chair. His eyes flicked towards the interior of the restaurant, and Cat turned to follow his gaze. She saw Kiara inside, gesturing wildly and mouthing words at JJ, but stopped and smiled and waved as she noticed Cat looking back.

“Are you sure you’re okay though?” she asked, looking back at him.

He laughed again. “I’m fine. Trust me.” There was an awkward pause. “We cool now?”

“I’m cool if you’re cool,” she replied, taking a sip of her lemonade and raising her eyebrows at him.

“Well, if you’re cool then I’m cool.” She smiled at his play on her words. 

“We’re cool, then.”

“Cool as cucumbers.”

They burst into a fit of laughter as Kiara arrived with their food. “I’m not even gonna ask,” she said, shaking her head, visibly confused. She set the chicken sandwich down in front of Cat before handing JJ his food, whacking him on the head with her serving plate before heading back inside. 

“You two still good friends?” she asked, picking up a sweet potato fry. JJ was in the middle of attacking his burger.

“Very,” he said around his food, and Cat made a face at his manners. She shouldn’t have expected anything less from JJ. “We ‘ang out almost every day.”

“You what?” she asked, grinning, leaning forward on the table, her elbows pressed against the soft wood. “Can you repeat that?”

“We hang,” he said, and a piece of mashed-up food flew out of his mouth as he stressed the word. “H-A-N-G.”

“That’s what I thought, thanks for specifying,” she teased before taking a bite of her chicken sandwich.”

“You should come hang with us sometime,” JJ said, once again carefully pronouncing the word.

Cat almost choked at the proposition, realizing he was serious, but made a point by carefully and thoroughly chewing her food before answering, making direct eye contact the whole time. JJ quickly caught on, pressing his lips together and raising his eyebrows, waiting for her answer.

“Maybe,” she concluded.

“Your dad tell you horror stories about us?” JJ’s words were nonchalant. He leaned back, tossing a fry into his mouth, expecting an answer.

“Mainly about you,” she replied, taking another bite.

“Me?” he asked, and she nodded. “Well, I’m flattered. What would he think about you and I here, now?”

“‘e’d ‘ate it,” she said, holding a hand over her mouth, catching herself as she spoke with her mouth full.

A wicked grin spread across JJ’s face. “What’d you say there, kitty Cat?”

“He would hate it! He’d disown me!” she laughed, and JJ smiled back at her. 

“Unfortunately, I think that’s the truth,” he said. Cat hung her head in agreement, and the conversation died.

They ate, and Cat was almost done with her meal when JJ broke the silence. “Does he know we work together?”

She shook her head. “He’s bound to find out eventually, though.”

“Can I ask something else?”

“Sure.”

“Do you associate with any other Pogues?”

“No, aside from you and Pope,” she replied, her voice soft. Cat didn’t have to think about her answer. “I mean… I don’t associate with too many people. I have a few good friends. A bunch of Kook families really kiss ass to my family, I guess so the cops stay away from them and whatever they do. My dad hardly even lets me drive through the Cut when I want to surf down there or anything like that.”

JJ nodded, his eyes fixed on the table. 

“You associate with any Kooks?” she asked, turning the question onto him.

“Kie,” he said. “I mow some lawns. Kiss some asses,” he added, winking. “But no, they don’t exactly welcome me over there.”

It was Cat’s turn to nod in response, not able to think of any words that could break the heaviness of the topic.

Luckily, Kiara arrived to take their plates. “One check,” Cat said, and Kiara’s eyes grew wide, looking from Cat, to JJ, then back to Cat.

“Get that smirk off your face, JJ,” she sighed, turning and leaving.

“What’s that smirk for?” Cat pressed, smiling. 

“Nothin’,” JJ replied, shrugging dramatically, his smirk softening into a smile. Cat rolled her eyes, and Kiara returned quickly with the check.

“I’ll drive you home,” Cat proposed, leaving $25 in cash with the check. They stood and began down the steps from the deck to where Cat’s car was parked.

JJ quickly shot her offer down. “My dad isn’t good at forgiving people, kitty Cat. I’ll walk, it’s not far.”

“Oh- okay.” 

“Thanks for dinner tonight. I’ll make it up to you sometime.”

“JJ Maybank? Offering me, a Kook, repayment? That’s a shocker.”

“I’m not all what your dad makes me out to be,” he said, walking backwards away from her. “There’s more than what meets the eye, and that goes for everyone, including your father. Come hang with us sometime, I’ll get you out of your bubble, kitty Cat”

“What do you mean?” she asked, but by the time the words left her mouth, JJ had turned and was jogging away.

---

taglist  @letsgofullkook @stargazingstarkey @sortagaysortahigh @jjsmentalpolaroids @ims0golden @jjmaybcnks​ @shawnssongs​ @queenk00k @broken-jj​  @danielle-yeah​ @wicked-laugh​ @obxhoe​ @talksoprettyjjx​ @kt219567​ @abrunettefangirlnerd​ @apoguecalledjj​

#jj maybank #outer banks #daddy shoupe #deputy shoupe #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fanfiction #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks imagine #marie writes

[debbiechanclub]

Best Two Out of Three, Part 12

I don’t know if this is too soon but I’m too excited, so. This part is @what-does-mine-say‘s fault. And by fault I mean she basically read my mind so we’re running with it.

So. Much. Angst.

Best Two Out of Three

Part: 12/26

Pairing: Kenny Omega x OFC x Cash Wheeler and Adam Page x OFC

Warnings: Language, angst

Word Count: 3.1k

Catch up on previous parts here.

Five weeks later… AEW Fight for the Fallen

Alex sat on the couch in FTR’s locker room, her eyes glued to the monitor in front of her. Dax and Cash were wrestling the Lucha Bros, and she’d been on the edge of her seat the entire time. It didn’t help matters that Butcher and Blade had driven the Lucha Bros to the ring in Dax and Cash’s stolen truck. Alex had considered sneaking out there to try to steal it back; but Butcher was quite literally twice her size, so she thought better of it.

Suddenly, Dax pulled Fenix by his mask down into an inside cradle.

One.

Two.

Three.

“Yes!” Alex clapped her hands, happy that FTR had won. She pushed herself off the couch to go meet them at Gorilla—but something on the monitor caught her eye and she stopped. Cash and Dax had been jaw-jacking Butcher and Blade at ringside when the Young Bucks had appeared and superkicked Butcher and Blade. Matt took the key to the truck, and he and Nick walked to the ring and returned it to Cash and Dax. It surprised Alex; the Bucks and FTR weren’t exactly friends. But it was nothing compared to the shock she got when she saw Kenny walk to the ring—and he was carrying a cooler full of beer.

Her brow furrowed in confusion as she watched. Kenny offered Cash and Dax each a beer. Then he took one himself. What was he doing? He didn’t drink. She saw him say, “Just this once” as Cash and Dax cracked theirs open. But neither of them took a sip. Instead, FTR raised their beers and emptied them over Kenny’s head.

“What. The. Fuck.” Alex didn’t wait to see what happened next. She tore out the locker room door, making a beeline for Gorilla. She paced back and forth, feeling herself growing angrier by the second as she waited for Cash and Dax to come back through the curtain. Mercifully, it wasn’t long before they did.

“There’s my girl!” Cash proclaimed when he saw Alex. He walked over and wrapped an arm around her waist, drawing her close against him. “Hey, sweetheart,” he said as he started to kiss her neck; but she pulled away.

“Are you serious?”

He froze. “What?”

Her eyebrows arched. “What? You just dumped beer on Kenny’s head, that’s what.” She looked between him and Dax both. “Was that really necessary?”

“Oh, come on,” Dax breathed. “It was just a rib.”

She blinked. “A rib?”

“Yeah! Kenny poured out the beer we offered him two weeks ago, so we poured out the beer he offered us… on him.”

Alex’s eyes bulged at his smirk. Was he being serious? “He was literally about to have a drink with you out there,” she said with a gesture toward the ring. “You do realize that, right? Kenny doesn’t drink.”

Dax rolled his eyes. “You can take care of this,” he said lowly to Cash. It angered Alex even more—but before she could lay into him, Cash stepped in between them.

“Alex, come on. Why are you so upset about this?”

She opened her mouth—but before she could answer, Kenny, Matt, and Nick came back through the curtain. For a brief second, Kenny’s eyes met Alex’s; but he turned and walked away, disappearing backstage without a word.

Matt cut Dax and Cash a look. “Real mature, guys.”

“Oh, and you’re welcome for the keys, by the way,” Nick shot, and with that they followed after Kenny, leaving Alex alone with FTR once more.

Cash looked at her with remorseful eyes. “Sweetheart…” he started, but she cut him off.

“Don’t,” she said, and she turned and walked away. She couldn’t talk to Cash about this now; not after Kenny had looked at her like she’d been the one who’d just dumped beer on his head.

* * * * * * * * * *

The door hit the wall with a loud bang as Kenny burst into the Elite’s locker room, Matt and Nick at his heels. He kicked a chair, sending it skittering across the floor, and when he couldn’t find anything else to hit, he pulled his beer-soaked shirt over his head and threw it hard against the wall. Matt and Nick looked on, unsure what to do or say. It would probably be best to just let him get it out of his system.

“What the fuck was that?” Kenny shouted. “Who the fuck do they think they are?”

Matt opened his mouth to answer—but Kenny cut him off.

“She left me for that? For someone that fucking childish?”

Matt and Nick glanced at each other. So that was why he was so angry. “I don’t think Alex is happy about it either, man,” Nick said.

“Yeah, she looked pretty upset,” Matt agreed.

“Oh, did she? I didn’t notice because of all the fucking beer her boyfriend dumped on me,” Kenny sarcastically bit, just as the door to the locker room opened again. Kenny’s brow lowered when he saw who it was. Adam. “Oh look, it’s FTR’s new best friend! Thanks for the warning, pal.”

Adam bit down on his jaw. “I didn’t know they were gonna do that, Kenny,” he evenly returned. “But I didn’t know you were gonna go out there and try to have a drink with them, either. What did you honestly think was gonna happen?”

Kenny’s eyes widened. “Oh, so it’s my fault I got beer dumped all over me?”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” Adam returned with a frustrated sigh. “But did you really think Dax and Cash would believe that you wanted to have a drink with them? You don’t drink, man. They probably thought you were trying to pull something on them.”

Kenny ran a hand through his hair, momentarily forgetting that it was wet with beer. He angrily shook the liquid off as he pulled his hand away in disgust. “Well, I guess you’re right, Adam. Because honestly, I didn’t want to have a drink with them. I wanted to throw that whole fucking cooler at Cash’s fucking head.”

Adam’s eyebrows arched. He saw the situation with a little more clarity now. “Is this about the beer or is it about Alex?”

Kenny’s eyes darkened at him. “Don’t you fucking talk to me about Alex,” he spat.

For a second, Adam was stunned. But then he got angry. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“You know what it means,” Kenny returned. “You didn’t want her to be with me and it was fucking obvious.”

Adam faltered when he heard that. But this was a long overdue conversation—and if Kenny wanted the truth, then he’d give it to him. “Because I didn’t want her to get hurt again,” he said.

Kenny took a threatening step toward him. “Oh, so you just assumed I would hurt her?”

“Well, it was kind of hard not to, Kenny!” Adam argued. “Do you know how many times Alex came crying to me over you last year? And I don’t mean complaining or whining—I mean full-blown fucking crying. There were times I wanted to deck you in the fucking face for how you treated her.”

“I know!” Kenny burst. “You don’t need to remind me about how fucking shitty I treated her!”

“Then why are you so surprised that I was concerned about it happening again? She’s one of my closest friends, Kenny!”

“Yeah, well I’m in love with her, Adam!”

The room went instantly quiet. Adam, Matt, and Nick all stared at Kenny in open-mouthed shock. “What?” Matt said.

Kenny ran a hand over his face, fully realizing what he’d just said. It had just come out—and he didn’t want to talk about it. “Forget it,” he quickly breathed. “I’m gonna take a shower.” He walked over to his bag, grabbed his things, and retreated into the bathroom before any of them could ask anything else. It wasn’t that he’d shocked himself with what he’d said. He’d known for weeks that he was in love with Alex. Five weeks, to be specific; he’d known it the moment she’d walked out of his hotel room after she’d admitted her feelings for Cash. But this was the first time he’d admitted how he felt out loud—and now that he had, he was worried it was too late.

* * * * * * * * * *

“Thanks for meeting me.” Alex looked down into her beer as she sat across from Callie in a booth at the hotel bar. “I actually really appreciate it.”

“Of course,” Callie returned as she stirred her straw in her cocktail. “I’m not gonna lie, though—I was surprised I was the one you asked.”

Alex laughed wryly to herself. She was a little surprised, too. But, somehow, Adam’s cookout scheme had actually worked. She and Callie weren’t best friends, but they’d grown on each other over the last five weeks. And honestly? It was nice. “Well, I didn’t want to go to Adam because he’s probably sick to death of hearing about my guy problems. And I didn’t want to go to Trent or James because they’re not good with this stuff, and I definitely didn’t want to go to Chuck now that I know he actually was in love with me at one point. And Kris is out injured so… honestly, you were my sixth-string pick of who to talk to.”

She smirked. Callie playfully rolled her eyes. “You’re lucky this drink is good,” she returned.

Alex’s grin grew wider; but it quickly faded. “Speaking of drinks… I can’t fucking believe Cash and Dax did that to Kenny.”

Callie frowned. “Is this your first fight with Cash?”

She just nodded. She and Cash had only been official for three weeks now—it seemed way too soon for them to have their first fight. But he’d poured beer on Kenny’s head. If it had been anyone else, she probably wouldn’t have cared. But Cash knew damn well she’d picked him over Kenny. Because of that, his and Dax’s stunt was a step too far.

“Well, you have every right to be upset,” Callie said. “It was a jerk move to begin with… and Cash knows your history with Kenny.”

“It’s barely history,” she returned.  “I was sleeping with him five weeks ago.” She ran a frustrated hand through her long dark brown hair. “Did you know he was gonna go out there like that?”

Callie immediately shook her head, her blonde waves moving over her shoulders. “Kenny? No. Neither did Adam. I couldn’t believe he was actually going to have a beer with them.”

“Right? It didn’t make any sense.” She took a sip of her own beer then, but suddenly realized she didn’t want it and pushed it away. It had been the wrong drink to order tonight.

“So I guess you haven’t talked to Cash about it yet?” Callie asked as she eyed Alex’s suitcase next to the booth.

She shook her head. “No. I came straight here from the arena; I haven’t even gone up to our room yet.”

“Well, now might be your chance, then,” Callie said with a glance at the entrance to the bar. Alex turned to follow her line of sight. Cash had walked in. Their eyes connected across the room. She turned back around.

“I guess so,” she breathed.

Callie didn’t say anything in return. The next thing Alex knew, Cash was standing next to the booth. He looked down at her. “Hey. Can we talk?”

She hesitantly bit her lip; but she nodded. Callie knew that was her cue. “I’ll give you two some privacy,” she said as she picked up her drink and stood from the booth. Alex expected Cash to take her place, but he nudged his chin at her.

“Scoot over. Please.”

She slid further into the booth as he sat down next to her. Their legs touched underneath the table. He gripped her thigh. “Are you still mad at me?”

“I’m annoyed with you, yeah,” she admitted as she looked at him. It made him frown.

“I know. I’m sorry. But it’s like Dax said—it was just a rib.”

She rolled her eyes. “It might have seemed like just a rib to you, Cash, but to me it seemed like you were rubbing salt in a wound.”

He looked down at the tabletop. “I know,” he admitted. “I see that now. But I’m surprised by how much it upset you.”

She looked down at her hands, picking at her fingernails. “Well,” she breathed, “I get that you and Dax have your eyes set on the tag titles; I want that for you, too. And I know things will be more tense than average between you and Kenny because of everything that’s happened. But I would really appreciate it if you didn’t make it any more tense or awkward than it already is, Cash. I don’t want our relationship starting out with that… bad juju hanging over it.”

He squeezed her thigh. “I don’t either,” he said. “You’re right—it was a step too far tonight. I apologize for that. The last thing I want to do is make things worse on you.”

He looked into her eyes. It was obvious by the earnest look on his face that he meant every word. “Thank you,” she said. “I’m still not happy about it, but… I know it wasn’t intentional.”

He smiled. “Come here.” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into him. “I don’t ever want to upset you like that, sweetheart.”

A frown tugged at her lips. “This was our first fight.”

“I know. But hey.” He brushed her hair over her shoulder and said into her ear, “Now we get to have makeup sex.”

A pleasant tingle ran up her spine as he kissed her neck. Makeup sex was definitely a silver lining of the situation. “You better bring your A game, then,” she teased.

“Please, you know I always do. You certainly didn’t complain last night. Or this morning.”

Alex bit her lip. They needed to get to the room—now. “Well, you can start by taking my bag to our room.”

He smirked. “Yes, ma’am.” He stood from the booth and offered her his hand as he grabbed her suitcase. Alex took it, interlacing their fingers together. It was less than ideal to start off her relationship with her new boyfriend while he was literally feuding with her “ex.” But, judging by how good her hand felt in Cash’s as he led her up to the room, she was hopeful that they’d get through it.

* * * * * * * * * *

“That was quick,” Adam said when Callie walked back into their room, obviously surprised she was back so soon. She hadn’t even been gone for ten minutes.

“Yeah well, Cash showed up and asked to talk to her, so I figured I should leave them to it,” Callie explained. She joined him on the bed and snuggled against his side, wrapping her arm around his middle. He hugged her close.

“I’m glad you two are getting along. It seems like you’re even becoming friends?”

She looked up at him. “She called me her sixth-string pick of who to talk to.”

“Ha!” he let out a loud burst of laughter. “Sorry,” he quickly said. “That’s kinda funny.”

Callie smirked despite herself as she rested her head back on his chest. But it faded as her thoughts turned to her conversation with Alex. “I don’t know what I’m more shocked by—that FTR did that to Kenny or that Kenny was honestly going to have a drink with them.”

Adam shook his head. “I don’t know what Kenny was thinking. I don’t think he was, to be honest.”

“Probably not,” Callie agreed. “Matt and Nick told me he was pretty heated afterward. They said he kicked a chair across the room.”

There was a pause. And then Adam asked, “Is that all they told you?”

She looked up at him again. “Yeah… why? Did something else happen?”

He drew in a deep breath, causing her head to rise with his chest. “Oh, something else happened, alright.”

Callie sat up and looked at him then, equal parts concerned and curious. “What?” she asked. She couldn’t have predicted what Adam said next.

“Kenny said he’s in love with Alex.”

Her mouth dropped. “What?” she repeated. “When? How?”

“Right after the thing with FTR happened,” he said. “I went to the locker room because I had a feeling I’d have to diffuse the situation. But then Kenny and I started yelling at each other about Alex… and he just spit it out.”

Callie’s eyes widened. She couldn’t believe it. “Do you think he meant it?”

Adam nodded. “Yeah. I mean, he shut down the conversation after he said it but… he definitely meant it.”

“Wow,” Callie breathed. She was stunned. She knew Kenny cared for Alex—but love? And now, after she’d already chosen Cash? “Well, I guess it’s good that he admitted it, but… Alex seems really happy with Cash. Well, not tonight. But in general.”

Adam let his head fall back against the headboard. “Yeah,” he breathed. “She does.”

Callie’s brow furrowed. He looked upset. “What’s wrong?”

He sighed again. “I just… I’m responsible for Cash and Alex getting together. I literally told Alex that I thought Cash would be better for her than Kenny. And now that I know how Kenny feels... I don’t know. I feel guilty.”

“No,” Callie immediately soothed, shaking her head. “So what if you said that? You were just looking out for your friend, Adam. You shouldn’t feel guilty about that.”

He frowned at her. “I went behind Kenny’s back, Cal.”

She pouted. He really did look guilty—and she wanted to make it better. “Don’t beat yourself up about it,” she said, rubbing her hand over his chest. “Kenny made his bed by hurting Alex the first time, and now he has to lie in it. That’s not your fault. So stop worrying about it…” She trailed off and placed kisses along his jaw leading up to his ear. She nibbled his earlobe.

“Mm,” he hummed. “Are you trying to distract me?”

She smirked. “Is it working?”

He growled deep in his chest as she nipped his ear again. “Go get in the shower,” he ordered.

Callie didn’t need to be told twice. She jumped off the bed and hurried into the bathroom. Adam wasn’t far behind. If there was anything he could use right now, it was a distraction.

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[sesamestreep]

stack the deck with wild cards (chapter 1)

(read on AO3)

SUMMARY: The situation with Cassian is complicated even before Jyn finds out she's pregnant, but deciding to get an abortion should really be the last straw for him, right? If there was any chance he'd still want to date her, she thought it had to be long gone by now. And yet he always finds a way to surprise her. [AKA - The Obvious Child AU you didn't know you wanted]

A/N: I’m going to be posting chapters of this fic daily, since it’s already completed. I never write chapter fic, so I have no idea what I’m doing and please bear with me. Also, this fic (and the movie it gets its plot from) is about abortion, so if that’s not something you’re into reading about, you should really strongly consider not reading this. I promise you won’t hurt my feelings. For those interested, there’s additional notes if you follow the AO3 link above. If you want to blacklist any future updates of this fic on tumblr, I’ll tag it with [#stack the deck verse] for your convenience. Chapter 2 should be posted tomorrow. Stay golden.

The reality of the current situation doesn’t hit Jyn at the doctor’s office when she gets the news or even when she’s booking her follow-up appointment. It doesn’t sink in when they tell her how much it will cost or give her the information she’ll need or the prescriptions to fill. It doesn’t hit her when she’s on the subway, heading home and texting Bodhi with numb fingers to see if he wants to have a movie night, or even when his cheery reply—replete with emojis—comes through saying he can come over tonight.

No, the moment everything becomes real is when she’s standing in the wine aisle at Trader Joe’s, going back and forth on whether spending eight dollars on a bottle of wine so that she can drink all of it in one sitting is irresponsible when she’s pregnant but she’s also not keeping the baby. It’s only then that she starts crying.

She’ll blame it on the hormones if anyone asks, she decides, which might even be accurate. She’s not really a crier under normal circumstances, but even if she wasn’t pregnant, she’s pretty sure draining her savings account for a medical procedure that she wouldn’t need if she had just been a little more responsible with her body would make her cry no matter how tough she thinks she is. Lucky for her, though, she lives in New York City and no one bats an eye at a crying woman in the grocery store. An older woman with a toddler in the seat of her grocery cart passes by and nods in understanding without saying a word, which is oddly comforting.

It’s the reminder that she needs to be careful about her money that talks Jyn out of buying wine for this evening (Bodhi probably wouldn’t have any and she doesn’t need to drink an entire bottle by herself under any circumstances, let alone these, even if she really really wants to), but she goes on to throw whatever snacks she wants into the cart indiscriminately because it has been a spectacularly shitty day. She spends more than she should (what else is new?) and sweats profusely trying to drag all of it back to her sixth floor apartment. She slams cabinet doors in frustration as she puts everything away and then takes the longest, hottest shower her shitty pipes in her shitty apartment will allow. When she emerges, her skin is bright pink and she pokes her stomach viciously, somehow annoyed and confused and relieved all at the same time that it gives away nothing of her current condition.

She spends too long sitting in a towel on her bed, dicking around on her phone instead of getting ready and ultimately decides Bodhi doesn’t care what her hair looks like and so she runs a comb through it and calls it done. She puts on her softest, stretchiest leggings and an ugly sweater she raided from her dad’s closet when she was a teenager that she loves because it has been washed and worn so many times that the sleeves now have holes in them that she can stick her thumbs through. It’s easily the least glamorous look she could have come up with, but she’s pregnant and she’s mad about it, so she’s going for comfort over style.

By the time the buzzer goes off, signaling Bodhi’s arrival, Jyn has managed to light a few candles and put some of the snacks she bought into bowls, so at least it looks like she put effort into some part of the evening. She presses the button to let him up and fidgets as she waits to open the door. She has to tell Bodhi as a trial run for telling…well, everyone else, basically…but a part of her wants to tell no one, deal with it by herself and pretend nothing is wrong. Of course, that would be stupid—the doctor even told her not to try and handle this by herself—but it seems more appealing than the alternative at this particular moment. It’s not possible, though. She needs someone to come with her to the appointment, at the very least, and Bodhi will do it without hesitation, that much she’s sure of.

When she hears footsteps in the hallway, she undoes the locks and opens the door. She takes a deep breath that is immediately squeezed out of her when Bodhi wraps her in a big hug.

“It’s so good to see you,” he says, rocking her a little side to side as he embraces her. “I’m so glad you suggested this! I feel like I’ve barely seen you lately.”

“I know,” Jyn says, clinging a little. Her eyes feel misty again already and that is definitely the hormones’ fault.

Bodhi pulls back to smile at her and his eyes catch on the candles and food. He gives her a suspicious look. “Okay, if this is an intervention for spending too much time with my new boyfriend, I know I deserve it but also I would have expected a much better turn out. You couldn’t even get Cassian here?”

Jyn winces at the mention of Cassian’s name but she thinks she covers it quickly with a forced smile. “It’s not an intervention,” she says as she steps around him to close the door.

“So why all the fanfare for a regular movie night?”

“What fanfare? There’s no fanfare!”

“Jyn, you put cheese puffs in a bowl ,” Bodhi says, as if she’s being obtuse. “You’re gonna have to wash that later. You did not have to do that for me.”

It’s on the tip of her tongue to make a joke— I’m nesting —but she refrains. “It’s no big deal,” she says, instead, and gestures to the couch for him to take a seat.

“If you say so,” he replies, still eyeing her warily and not taking the hint.

“Why don’t we sit down?” She finally asks, sounding strange and false even to her own ears. She leads the way over to the couch and Bodhi follows her, eventually lowering himself into the armchair with the same demeanor of someone approaching a wild animal.

“Jyn, seriously,” he says, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees once she’s curled up like a cat across from him, “is everything alright? You’re acting...odd.”

“Everything is fine,” she says, lightly, and hopes that saying so makes it true. “I just, uh, need to tell you something.”

“Okay.”

Jyn twists her hands together nervously, not sure how to get started now that the moment is finally here. “I need you to promise you’re not going to freak out,” she says, stalling for time.

“Ah, yes, that thing everyone says when everything is, in fact, totally fine.”

“Bodhi…”

“You’re leaving New York, aren’t you?” He asks, worried. “To be closer to Saw?”

“What? No, I—”

“Oh my god, it’s not Saw, is it?! He didn’t die, did he?”

“No, Saw is fine,” Jyn says, resisting the urge to rub her temple in frustration. “I mean, he’s not fine , obviously, he’s still sick, but he’s not—”

“Tell me you’re not quitting the band,” Bodhi interrupts. “Listen, I know things have been crazy lately, but I think—”

“Bodhi, I’m pregnant,” Jyn shouts, and the silence that follows is overwhelming.

“You’re…?”

“Pregnant. With child. Expecting,” she says, bitterly. “Yes.”

He looks like he’s been hit over the head with a mallet, which is bizarrely satisfying. She handled the news better and it was actually happening to her.

“How long have you known?” He asks, after a long time and with apparent effort. It’s not the first question she expected, but it’s not totally surprising.

“Like, five hours.”

“Five—?” Bodhi shakes his head in what she thinks is disbelief. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

Jyn just blinks in response. What is he talking about? “Sorry?”

“You and Reece broke up like six months ago, how did you not realize you were pregnant sooner?” He asks.

“I…Bodhi, I’m not six months pregnant,” Jyn sputters. She smacks her stomach to drive home the point, which in retrospect is a stupid move, but she’s not thinking straight. “I mean, do I look it?”

“No! No,” he says immediately. “That’s why I was so confused, but you…you haven’t been with anyone since the breakup. You would have told me.”

When Jyn says nothing in response, just bites her lip, Bodhi narrows his eyes at her. “You would have told me, right?” He asks.

Jyn takes a deep breath, looking down at her hands. “I’m eight weeks pregnant,” she says, feeling close to tears again. “I found out today, I have an appointment in a few weeks to—to terminate it. I just need someone to go with me, the nurse said I had to, otherwise I wouldn’t have mentioned it.”

“Jyn,” he says, placing his hand over hers. “Of course, I’ll go with you. I just—I’m not upset with you, you know that, right?”

She nods, even though she doesn’t feel altogether certain of it. She loves Bodhi and trusts him, more than she trusts almost anyone else, but she’s not convinced she deserves to have him be nice to her after she’s fucked things up this badly. He ought to be upset with her.

“I know,” she says, anyway. A single tear escapes, which is just perfect. “I’m upset with myself.”

“Are you okay?” Bodhi asks, delicately. “Did this person hurt you or force you in some way?”

“No, no. God, no,” Jyn says, pulling her hands free with more aggression than the act required. She wipes the tears away in annoyance. “Nothing like that.”

“Thank God,” he says, looking heavenward and everything. “Then why all the secrecy? I texted you the minute I finished hooking up with Taidu for the first time.”

Jyn laughs even as she continues crying. “I did not ask you to do that.”

“No, but...not even a braggy ‘I just got laid!’ text? I thought we were best friends!”

“We are,” she replies hastily. “I was just embarrassed.”

“Why?” He asks, intrigued. “Is this person weird? Are they famous?”

She laughs again, feeling better in spite of the bomb she’s about to drop. “No, Bodhi…”

“They’re not married, are they? Because I promise not to judge you, but come on!”

“They’re not married.”

“Good, because for a second I was worried you slept with Baze and that would definitely break up the band,” he says, solemnly.

Jyn smacks his shoulder half-heartedly. “I would never sleep with Baze,” she says. “Don’t even joke about that.”

“Fine,” Bodhi says. “So, it was Chirrut, then?”

“Bodhi!”

“Well, you’re being so cryptic,” he shoots back. “If you just told me—”

“I slept with Cassian.”

Bodhi just blinks at her for a long, torturous moment. She’s never actually seen Bodhi yell at anyone before, so she doesn’t know if that’s what is about to happen but she braces herself for it anyway.

“What,” he finally says, flat like a statement and not a question.

“I had sex with Cassian and now I’m pregnant,” she says firmly, as if just admitting it out loud isn’t making her heart hammer in her chest.

“You’re pregnant with Cassian’s baby,” Bodhi says, disbelieving and Jyn winces. She’s been trying not to think of it as an actual baby, because she’s not keeping it. But if she did nothing for seven more months, she would have a baby and it would be Cassian’s, in a purely biological sense. She doesn’t admit to that line of thinking to Bodhi, though.

“Yes,” she says, instead. “Technically,” she adds, because she can’t stop herself.

“Technically? What is that supposed to mean?”

“Just—Getting someone pregnant doesn’t make a man a father,” she says, with more heat than she intended. “Raising a child does. And there’s not going to be a child, so…that’s all I meant.”

“Sorry,” Bodhi says, placing his hands over hers again. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m just so surprised.”

“You didn’t upset me,” Jyn replies, shifting uncomfortably. “It’s these stupid hormones, that’s all.”

“Yeah,” he says, nodding. He moves to sit next to her on the couch, and she folds her legs up to give him room. “How did he take it when you told him?”

Jyn winces again before she can stop herself and she knows she doesn’t hide her reaction quickly enough from the way Bodhi stands abruptly. He always paces when he’s freaked out.

“Jyn, please tell me Cassian knows,” he pleads as he makes a circuit around her coffee table.

“I’ve only known for half a day! I haven’t had a chance to tell him!”

“Why would you tell me and not him?”

“You’re my best friend!”

“It’s his baby!”

“I wanted to make sure you could come to my appointment with me,” she says, and hopes the reminder is enough to make him feel sorry for her. He only stops pacing, but that’s still an improvement. “I was hoping you’d tell me what to do,” she adds, since it’s the actual truth.

“Well, obviously, go to your appointment,” Bodhi says, sinking back onto the couch.

“No, I mean—what I should do about Cassian?”

Bodhi looks over at her, confused. “What do you mean, what should you do about him? Tell him what’s going on.”

“I know, but how?”

“Same way you told me. Use your words.”

“Can I text him?”

“Absolutely not,” he says, scandalized. “You can’t tell him you’re pregnant via text. Who raised you?!”

“Saw.”

He acknowledges that with a nod. “Fair point.”

“I bet you’re going to say I can’t leave him a voicemail either,” Jyn says.

“You’re right, but mostly because no one under the age of eighty checks their voicemail anymore,” he says, patting her knee absently.

“Really?”

“Really,” Bodhi replies. “Just...sit down with him and tell him what’s going on. Same as you did with me.”

“It’s different with you.”

“It’s not that different.”

“It’s not your baby I’m aborting,” Jyn says quietly. “And you love me.”

Bodhi looks over at her then, some strange mix of emotions playing out on his face. She half expects him to object and say something ridiculous like Cassian does love her, and the very idea stresses her out. When he doesn’t say that, though, she finds herself oddly disappointed.

“Cassian’s a good guy. He’ll understand,” he says, instead, as if she doesn’t know that somehow. As if that isn’t a huge part of why this situation sucks so bad. As if she isn’t mortified that she has to involve him in something like this. As if she isn’t furious with herself because this is going to blow any chance she ever had with him in the first place. As if she hadn’t already done that by hooking up with him and then never calling him afterwards.

“I know,” Jyn says, looking down at her hands. She doesn’t actually know that—that he’ll understand. She thinks she knows Cassian fairly well, in a casual way. They’re mostly friends through Bodhi but they see a lot of each other. She suspects, from things he’s said before about politics, that he’s probably okay with abortion in a general sense, but it’s different when it’s your potential kid. She can’t actually be certain he’ll be cool with it, but she’s also not asking his permission. She just thinks he deserves to know. Or maybe she just wants an excuse to call him, for all this is the worst possible one the universe could have handed her.

“It’s just weird,” she adds, after a minute lost in thought, “for this to be the thing I call him about, after we hooked up. It feels shitty.”

“Wait, hold on,” Bodhi says, waving his hand dramatically at her. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“I don’t know what you think I’m saying.”

“Have you not talked to him since you slept with him?”

“I haven’t,” Jyn says, bracing herself. Bodhi opens his mouth to interject, so she continues quickly, stopping him. “But, in my defense, it was right before the holidays and then he was out of town for like a month, so it seemed weird to reach out, and—”

“Jyn,” he says, and his tone is so full of reproach, it shuts her up immediately. “None of those are good reasons and I think you know that.”

“It’s not like he and I talk a lot anyway,” she objects, but it’s futile, if Bodhi’s unimpressed look is any indication. “We mostly see each other at the shows and the band didn’t have any in December, so I just haven’t had the chance. That’s all.”

“Okay, so none of it had to do with your overwhelming fear of intimacy and vulnerability?”

“No…?”

“Very convincing,” Bodhi says, and Jyn shoves him.

“Shut up,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Well, if that’s not what happened,” he says reasonably, “you have to tell me what did.”

“What—you want details?!”

Bodhi shrugs. “You hooked up with my roommate and didn’t tell anyone about it for almost two months. There must be a reason.”

“Maybe it was bad,” she says, petulantly.

He just gives her an arch look in reply, which she deserves. “Was it bad?” He asks, bored.

Jyn bites her lip, hard. “No,” she admits. “It actually really wasn’t.”

“Well, then. Spill!”

She sighs dramatically—more dramatically than the situation deserves, honestly, and it’s already a pretty dramatic situation. “What do you want to know?

“When did this happen?”

“By my doctor’s estimate, eight weeks ago.”

“Jyn, for the love of—!”

“I was just trying to lighten the mood,” she says, for all she was actually just trying to stall. “It was that night we played at that terrible hipster bar in November.”

“Jyn, we exclusively play at terrible hipster bars. You’re going to have to be more specific.”

“It’s the one with the arcade games in the back? It’s changed names like three times this year?”

“ Oh , that place. Yeah. What is that place’s name?”

“No clue,” Jyn says, with a shrug. “But it was at that bar.”

Bodhi’s eyes widen, though whether it’s with shock or delight or both, she’s not sure. “You hooked up with him at the bar ?”

“No, no. We went home together afterwards, once the rest of you had left.”

“I knew it,” he practically shouts. “I knew something was up that night!”

“You did not!”

“Yes, I did. You can ask Taidu, I definitely said something about it to him.”

Jyn waves him off, not because she’s convinced but because she’s not going to bother Taidu about something this stupid. “Whatever.”

“You still haven’t told me how it happened.”

“Do you need me to explain how sex works? Because I feel like you get the general idea.”

“No, smartass,” he says with an eye roll. “I mean, you and Cassian hang out at bars all the time together and you’ve never hooked up before. So, what happened this time?”

“Well,” Jyn says, taking a steadying breath, “you and Taidu left early for some reason and you said you were going to stay at his place. And Baze and Chirrut left right after that, because I think that’s when Baze had that terrible cold.”

“Jyn, no offense, but who cares?”

“You asked me what was different about that night! I’m explaining!”

“Okay, fine,” Bodhi allows. “It was different because we all callously abandoned you.”

“Yes, thank you! Anyway, it was just me and Cassian at the bar and I had just ordered another drink when Baze and Chirrut decided to leave and I was giving them a hard time about it and Cassian offered to stay with me for another round, so I wouldn’t have wasted my money or have to drink alone.”

“How gallant of him.”

“No editorializing,” she snaps, and Bodhi dutifully mimes locking his mouth and throwing away the key. “Anyway, we had a couple more drinks, we had sex, and now I’m pregnant. The end.”

“Fine,” he says, giving up. “If you don’t want to tell me, you don’t have to. I was just interested because you’re both my friends and I love you. Also, I know how hard the break-up was on you, so I was excited that you felt comfortable enough to move on. But you clearly don’t want to talk about it, so forget it!” He pivots away from her on the couch and leans forward to grab some popcorn. “What movie are we watching, anyway?”

Jyn groans in frustration. He’s always been way too good at guilt-tripping her into anything she doesn’t want to do. “You’re such a brat!”

“What? I’m changing the subject, like you clearly want to!”

“I’m embarrassed, Bodhi!”

“I don’t see why,” he says, looking at her blankly. “Cassian is good looking and he’s not a creep. You could do way worse. You have, in fact.”

She punches him in the shoulder in retaliation. “Hey!”

“What? I mean, you dated Reece for two years and he wasn’t exactly a catch. Cassian is an improvement, in my opinion.”

“I see we’re not sparing my feelings anymore where Reece is concerned.”

Bodhi covers her hand with his own. “Jyn, that guy cheated on you for a long time, and then he broke up with you so he could be with the other woman—right before you went onstage to perform, I should mention—and he had the audacity to blame you for the cheating because you ‘didn’t give him enough attention,’” he says, with the most judgemental use of air quotes she’s ever seen. “I care about your feelings, truly I do. But I do not care about Reece and I will not pretend you aren’t way better off without him.”

“I’m not his biggest fan either,” she says, defensively. “But what does it say about me that I dated him for all that time without realizing what a dick he was?”

“That he was an even bigger scrub than we thought, because he managed to hide his true colors for so long,” Bodhi says, easily. “You’re not responsible for his actions.”

Jyn wants to believe him, and most days she already, mostly does. But sometimes she catches herself replaying the break-up in her head and the part where Reece said that if she’d really cared, if she’d really been in their relationship for the long haul, she’d have paid more attention to him and he would never have even thought about cheating. She’d left him no choice, with all her weird part-time jobs and her crazy schedule and her gigs with her silly little band all over the city in the middle of the night. If she were more together, if she knew what she wanted from her own life, she could have been there for her partner, but she was too much of a mess. Too much of a work-in-progress to be the sort of girlfriend someone wanted to be serious with.

“I know,” she says, half-heartedly. If Bodhi’s told her this once, he’s told her a thousand times. Maybe she’ll really believe it someday, but not quite yet. “It just gets in your head, when someone treats you like that. You start to wonder if you have a neon sign over your head that says you’re not really relationship material.”

“You do not have a neon sign over your head that says anything of the kind,” Bodhi reassures her, surprisingly earnestly. “If your relationship with Reece needed work, he could have brought those issues to you to resolve them. Instead, he cheated on you. He took the easy way out and then blamed you when it made him look like an asshole. That’s on him.”

Jyn sighs, hating how often she and Bodhi have to have this conversation or some variation of it. She wishes she could just magically not be upset about it anymore, but it’s not like she didn’t have trust issues before this. The situation with Reece just made them worse. That was part of the appeal of hooking up with Cassian; she wanted to get back out there and feel desirable again, but she couldn’t do it with just anybody. Cassian was safe because she knew him and trusted him, but they weren’t super close, so it’s not like hooking up with him would ruin their friendship. He knew enough of what happened with her breakup to know that it was just a rebound, but not enough about her mental state to worry about her when she initiated things between them. She didn’t need someone to worry about her; she just needed someone to take her home.

The bar had been surprisingly busy that night, probably because some local favorite band was on after their set and they had a weirdly devoted following. Even though the rest of their group had abandoned them, the spots around Jyn and Cassian at the bar quickly filled in with noisy patrons, which left them no choice but to lean close to each other when they talked. Cassian’s arm had been curled around the back of the barstool that she was perched on, not possessively but in a way that didn’t encourage anyone to interrupt them. Jyn didn’t object; she didn’t want to talk to anyone else anyway.

Something about having Cassian’s full attention, her elbow brushing his ribs anytime she reached for her drink and feeling the warmth radiating off him in the already overly warm bar, felt nice in a way that went right to her head. She was shamelessly leaning into it, both literally—if she had curled any further into him, she would be hugging him—and figuratively—asking him personal questions she’d never bothered with before and laughing a little too loudly at his answers in a way that would have probably made him suspicious if she hadn’t distracted him by constantly touching his arm. It was the oldest trick in the book, and he must have known that, but Jyn wasn’t really in the mood to be subtle anyway.

If he was wary of her motives in flirting with him so obviously, he hadn’t mentioned any of his concerns to her. Cassian tends to be wary as a rule, which is part of why Jyn trusts him. He’s always waiting for the other shoe to drop too, just like she is. There’s a subtle understanding between them as a result. Other than that, Jyn had never given him much thought. Sure, he’s good looking, even when he comes to their gigs still in his clothes from the office, which make him look like an accountant. He’s not actually an accountant, though; he works at some organization that works with kids in the foster system, which is the sort of job that immediately put Jyn on edge when she first heard about it after he’d moved in with Bodhi. She’s technically a freelance illustrator, but since that doesn’t pay the bills with any consistency, she also works all sorts of other odd jobs to make up the difference. She doesn’t have a 401K or a high yield savings account, but she’s pretty sure Cassian does, even if he’s also probably underpaid. But he’s underpaid in the good way, the what-a-Saint way, while Jyn is underpaid in the no-one-values-your-skills, get-a-real-job way. So, at first, she’d been a little suspicious of him.

But, back then, he was Bodhi’s new roommate who also took him up on the invitation to come see his band play during one of their glamorous midnight slots at some crummy dive bar, which earned him a little respect in Jyn’s mind. When he kept showing up, she was surprised. It didn’t seem like his scene at all, but when she said as much to him one night, he’d given her a self-conscious smile and said that coming to Bodhi’s shows gave him the pretense of a social life when his co-workers asked what he did with his free time. He had a tendency to look worried or miserable when left to his own devices, but self-deprecation was a good look on him and it was nice to know he wasn’t dead serious all the time. They never became close friends after that, but Jyn always liked talking to him after the shows.

Something changed when she was going through the break-up, though. Cassian knew what happened, of course, enough to tell her he was sorry to hear about it from Bodhi, but they didn’t exactly talk in depth about it or anything. He treated her the same as he always had. The change had come from her, honestly. She’d always thought he was attractive, in that split-second way you decide when you first see someone, but she’d never given it any thought beyond that, really. But once the initial fog of I-can’t-believe-this-is-happening lifted after the break-up, she started to notice Cassian more and think about him in a way she hadn’t before. She was disappointed if he couldn’t make it to one of their gigs. She started to appreciate the dorky work outfits he wore to the dive bar venues they played and she liked talking to him after the set, when he’d give her his full attention like she was the most fascinating person in the world.

She couldn’t tell, though, if he was genuinely interested in her or if he just thought she was hot and (now) single. If she’d been smart, she would have figured that out before hooking up with him. Instead, the universe handed her the perfect opportunity to be alone with him, without any of their friends to talk them out of it or ruin the mood and she’d taken full advantage of it. She had felt almost dizzy with the possibility of it, that she could ask him to leave with her and that he’d probably say yes. Next to her, some drunk guy stumbled up to the bar and, in his haste, accidentally and rather fortuitously shoved her even further into Cassian’s arms. He’d tightened his hold on her to catch her fall and when she’d looked up, he was glaring at the man, who was completely oblivious to having made an enemy. It was ridiculously charming, to think he was offended on her behalf, as if her honor had been threatened. Really, what was she supposed to do then, except kiss him?

He’d been surprised, at first, and who could blame him? Sure, she’d been giving the corniest, most textbook signals that she was into him all night, but she hadn’t even known she was going to actually make a move until she did it. He recovered quickly, though, which was nice, and reciprocated immediately. Jyn’s not sure what she would have done if he’d asked questions or tried to talk things through first, even though she kind of expected it from him. They’d both had a few drinks, not enough to impair them by any means but just enough to embolden them.

His hand had come to rest on her back when she got pushed into him and she felt it flex, as if he was trying to hold her even closer. The other moved to her face as soon as she kissed him, though it was really just his thumb grazing her jaw, like he was worried she might turn away and he wanted to offer a slight incentive to stay where she was. She probably would have kept making out with him at the bar like they were college students or something, but she didn’t actually want to spend another second with the drunk patrons or the shitty band that was onstage. She wanted to be someplace else—anywhere else, really, so long as it meant she and Cassian could be alone. She pulled back, with great effort, and the look on Cassian’s face made her think he expected to be let down easy.

“Do you want to get out of here?” she asked, instead.

His eyebrows went up, as if that was the last thing he expected her to say. He closed his eyes, like gathering his thoughts was difficult at that moment. “I, uh—what are you asking?”

Jyn bit her lip, which was a bad habit of hers when she was nervous, but if it also happened, by pure luck, to look flirtatious, that was fine too. “I’m asking if you want to go back to your place and have sex with me,” she said, because she wasn’t about to waste time and not get exactly what she wanted out of this.

“Do I want that?” He’d asked, dumbfounded, and if she hadn’t just been having a completely normal conversation with him, she’d have worried he was drunker than she thought. But this was entirely her effect on him and it was incredibly flattering. “Do you?”

“I think the fact that I suggested it makes it pretty obvious what I want.”

Cassian had run his hand through his hair, clearly a nervous tic. “Yeah, but—yes, I would like that.”

He said the last bit decisively, as though he realized he might be accidentally talking her out of it with his hesitation. He needn’t have worried—Jyn has her mind made up about this—but she thought it was better to keep him on his toes than reveal that. She gave him a bright smile before turning to get the bartender’s attention. They paid their tab and got the hell out of there in record time.

When they left the bar, it was raining lightly, barely a drizzle at this point, but there was evidence that it had stormed earlier in the evening. The small heel on Jyn’s boots brought her close enough to Cassian’s height that, even standing outside the bar, she didn’t have to strain to reach him and pull him down for another kiss. His hands came to her hips to steady her anyway and she’d have happily continued like this for a while if the bouncers by the front door didn’t wolf whistle at them and ruin the moment.

They started walking to Cassian’s apartment without discussing it, like they agreed via telepathy that no cab driver would tolerate them given their current amount of PDA. It wasn’t a far walk, though, and Jyn had internally thanked the forces of the universe for making this happen at the closest bar to Cassian’s place, because she’s sure they would have lost their nerve over the course of a lengthy subway or cab ride. Instead, they headed for his apartment in silence, more because they were focused than not having anything to say. He held her hand the whole way, as if he was afraid she’d disappear if he wasn’t touching her. While they waited for a crosswalk signal at one corner, he pulled her into his side and kissed her again, like she really needed the reminder that he was a good kisser. How could she forget?

“He’s a really good kisser,” she says, suddenly, to Bodhi, as they sit together on the couch.

Bodhi scrunches up his nose, looking disgusted. “Who? Reece?”

“No! I’m talking about Cassian!”

“Oh!” His eyes light up. “I thought you didn’t want to.”

Jyn shrugs, noncommittal. She wants Bodhi’s reassurance that she didn’t fuck things up beyond repair and this is probably the only way to get that. “I’m obviously not going to tell you everything . But we can talk about it, a little. I guess.”

“Okay, but how good is he?”

“Is there an accepted scale I should use?”

“One to ten would suffice, I think. Ten being the best kiss you’ve ever had and one being…well, you already said it was good, so we don’t need to worry about that.”

She exhales noisily, not sure how to describe it. “I don’t know. I can’t even think of the best kiss I ever had.”

“That’s kind of sad.”

She punches him on the shoulder. “I hate you,” she says, petulantly. “It was really, really good. Definitely an 8.5 or a 9. Maybe a 9.5.”

“Really?!”

Jyn nods, feeling awkward. “Yeah. We made out for a really long time before we…well, before anything else happened.”

She doesn’t mention that she’d almost lost her nerve, when they first got back to Cassian’s apartment. Being in his bedroom, the idea of sleeping together suddenly became real and all of her tipsy confidence evaporated. She’d been in a relationship for two years—she’d thought she and Reece would move in together whenever their leases were up, even though she hadn’t had the confidence to bring it up to him before he turned around and left her for another woman—and suddenly she wasn’t ready to be with someone else. Naturally, Cassian had picked up on her change in mood and asked her what was wrong. She lied and said it was nothing, though he hadn’t looked convinced. To prove her point, she’d kissed him again, hard, trying to psych herself up, but he’d eased back, turning their kiss into something easier and softer. He’d kissed her like that for a while, his hands in her hair and on her jaw, not reaching for her clothes or straying anywhere new. It was only after they’d continued like that for a long time that Jyn felt her nerves mellow into pleasure and then sharpen into desire again. Even though they’d kept things fairly chaste, all of that kissing had made her want more, and she clearly had to be the one to take the lead.

“And was he a gentleman with you?” Bodhi asks primly, interrupting Jyn’s thoughts.

“You’re going to have to be more specific,” she says, with a frown.

“Did he…how do I put this…take care of your needs?”

“Oh. Uh, yes.”

“First?” He asks, clearly enjoying himself.

“Yes,” Jyn replies, through gritted teeth. She leaves out the fact that she’d not-so-subtly rushed them past the point of foreplay so Cassian wouldn’t get any ideas. Maybe it was wishful thinking on her part, that he would have even tried something like that with her, that she got in the way of some grand plan of his to gallantly fulfill her needs before worrying about his own, but he had looked surprised when she took them straight from kissing to taking his clothes off to fucking him. Maybe it was a pleasant surprise, maybe he was relieved to find someone who didn’t expect so much effort from him. She didn’t ask. She just knew that she couldn’t handle the idea of it being unequal, of him being smug or, worse, expectant with her. She didn’t want to owe him anything, so they were going to have sex once and then she could move on. Naturally, she hadn’t counted on getting pregnant.

“I told him I was on the pill and I wasn’t,” she blurts out before she can stop herself.

The way Bodhi swings around to stare at her would be funny, under any other circumstances. “Why would you lie about that?” He asks, unable to keep the judgement out of his tone.

“I didn’t lie ,” she says. “I thought I was on the pill! I’ve been taking it for years, so I didn’t think anything of it. I forgot to get my prescription refilled a few months ago and I was like, ‘who cares?’ because Reece and I had just broken up and I was convinced I was never going to have sex again.”

“But then you had sex with Cassian!”

“I know! And I forgot I wasn’t on the pill anymore.”

Bodhi covers his eyes with his hands. “Please tell me you used a condom.”

“Cassian definitely offered,” she says, trying to sound upbeat.

“And you said, ‘yes, of course, because you’re a man I’ve never slept with before and that’s the safest way for us to have sex!’”

“No. I said, ‘it’s fine, don’t worry about it, I’m on the pill.’”

“Jyn!”

“Before you yell at me, I would like to remind you I’m already pregnant, so the worst case scenario has already happened.”

“That’s not the only reason you should use a condom!”

“I know, but I got tested for STDs when I went in for my pregnancy test and nothing has come back positive yet, so hopefully I’m not that unlucky.”

“Listen, I know you’re going through some stuff right now and I don’t want to pile on, but that was really risky,” he says, looking more serious than she’s ever seen him. “You have to promise me that you’ll be more careful.”

“I promise,” she says, feeling like a teenager being chastised. “Believe me, paying out of pocket for an abortion is a pretty great way for me to learn my lesson.”

“God, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s my fault. Like you said, I wasn’t being careful.”

“That wasn’t—I’m not trying to hit your nose with a rolled up newspaper, Jyn. I’m just worried about you.”

“I know. This is why I was embarrassed. I made a complete idiot out of myself. And now I get to explain all of this to Cassian, which won’t be humiliating at all.”

“He’ll understand,” Bodhi says, with enviable levels of confidence. “He’s good like that.”

“I said I’d call him and I didn’t,” she says, trying not to cringe as she remembers how quickly she’d left after they’d had sex, how she hadn’t even looked Cassian in the eye when she promised to call. “Even if he was fine with a one-night stand, I still lied to him. I doubt he’ll be happy to hear from me, especially under the circumstances.”

“If the alternative is not hearing from you at all, I think he’d rather hear from you. No matter what the circumstances are.”

“I don’t know.”

“Jyn, you and Cassian are friends, even if you don’t think you’re particularly close. And you’ve slept together, which involves a certain level of intimacy—”

“Not the way I do it,” she jokes. Although there’s some truth to it, she thinks.

Bodhi smacks her with a pillow, which she completely deserves. “Call him or I’ll kick your ass.”

“God, fine!” She slouches down in her seat on the couch. “Do I have to do it right now?”

“God, no. I don’t want to be here for that conversation,” he says, grabbing another handful of popcorn. “Besides, you promised me a movie night. What are we watching?”

“I don’t care, as long as it doesn’t involve babies or pregnancy.”

Bodhi’s scrolling through the titles on Netflix as she speaks, nodding absentmindedly. “‘Sleepless in Seattle’?” He asks, when he lands on it.

“That totally has a baby in it!”

“The kid is, like, eight,” he argues. “And it’s not about the process of having kids!”

Jyn sighs, defeated. “Do you want to watch ‘Sleepless in Seattle,’ Bodhi?”

“Yes, but I’m mostly in it for Bill Pullman.”

“Fine,” she says, settling in next to him. “I’m probably going to fall asleep in twenty minutes, anyway.”

“That’s the spirit,” Bodhi says, and hits play.

#rogue one #rebelcaptain #jyn erso #cassian andor #bodhi rook #obvious child #obvious child au #baze malbus #chirrut imwe #star wars #abortion #abortion tw #my fic #my writing #stack the deck verse #otp: built on hope #otp: your mother and i have been together ever since #anyway here's wonderwall

[imagining-supernatural]

I’m Not Saying Alcohol is Always The Answer But...

Chapter 11 of Life Changes (Hopefully For The Better)

Summary: The night would have gone so much differently if my mom hadn’t shown up and I hadn’t slapped her but god yelling at her felt so good

Warnings: Bitchy mom drama 

Word Count: 1,246

“I find it incredibly annoying that you wouldn’t let me have another drink.”

“You wanted to leave the house, and I’m not putting you on the back of my bike when you’re anything more than tipsy.”

“Awww,” I stepped up close to Bucky and framed his face with my hands. “You do care about my well-being.”

He grinned and covered one of my hands with his. “More than you know.”

“Yeah… about that. I have a question.”

Looking back on it now, I realize that standing outside my apartment at nine o’ clock at night was not a good place to initiate that conversation. Sure, it was better than back at the house with Natasha nosing in on everything, but it’s really still not a good place.

And that night? Worst place. Worst timing.

Why?

“Y/N?”

Because my mother was there.

I froze when I heard her voice calling my name. Bucky must have caught my eyes widening and heart stopping because his hand tightened around mine.

“Y/N,” my mom called again, her voice closer.

“Fuck,” I muttered.

“Is that any way to greet the woman who gave you life?”

“Considering that is how I greeted you, I’d say yeah. That is a way to greet you.” It took exactly three deep breaths for my confidence to get high enough for me to look away from Bucky and face my mother. I nearly stepped away from him to distance him from whatever bullshit was about to go down, but I remembered that I was trying to let him in. Trying to let him help me through my shit.

Sucks that he was right in the middle of it right now, but he was a big boy. If he wanted to leave, he could.

But until then, I was keeping his hand firmly in mine.

“What do you want, Shandra?”

“Shandra?”

“You disowned me. Kinda makes it hard to call you mom.”

Her eyes flickered to Bucky and I knew exactly what she was seeing. She saw his long hair, old leather jacket, and lack of prestige. She saw the kind of person she wouldn’t even hire to mow her lawn. Someone who hadn’t even made it into the nightmare she pictured for her daughter’s future.

If only she could see him how I did.

“I had to do something to shock you out of your spiral.”

“My spiral? What the fuck do you know about my life?”

“Language, missy.”

“Fuck off, Shandra. I’m not fucking spiraling.” Was I cursing more than usual just to spite her? Of course I was. What did you expect? “My spiral stopped the moment I moved out. The moment I realized how fucking toxic you are—”

“You’re the toxic one! Never appreciating everything I’ve done for you—”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Am I supposed to appreciate all of the insults you’ve given me? Am I supposed to fucking appreciate every time you made me cry? I suppose you want me to appreciate the bruises you gave me too.”

She gasped and surged forward, but I held my ground. I was a different person now. I was eons different than I’d been the last time she saw me. It was time she saw that. “You ungrateful, sorry excuse for a—”

“I think you need to leave now,” Bucky cut in.

“Get away from my daughter,” she growled. “You’re exactly the kind of bottom-feeding—”

For the first time in my life, I slapped my mother. The sound echoed across the parking lot and filled me with the strangest sense of satisfaction. “Don’t ever talk to him like that. In fact, don’t talk to him ever. If you’ve got something to say, you say it to me.”

“You—you hit me.”

“I’ll do it again too. You disowned me. That is the only thing I’ll ever thank you for. I grew up in that house playing your games and saying your words and crying myself to sleep because I knew I was never going to be the person you wanted me to be. I was never going to be the daughter you expected. You made damn sure I knew I wasn’t good enough for anyone. I’m not sorry that I’m a disappointment to you. I’m not sorry that I’m not the trophy wife of some dick-head doctor right now. I’m not sorry about any of that because I’m who I want to be. I’m with who I want to be with. I can finally picture the kind of future that makes me want to get out of bed everyday and I’m with the person who makes me want to stay in bed with him every day. I’m not looking for an escape anymore. I’m happy and you can’t take that from me anymore. I’m not going to turn into you. You can’t make me as miserable as you are. So thank you for disowning me because now you have absolutely no power over me anymore.”

“You bitch.”

Language, mother. “Now get the hell away from me or I’ll call the police.”

“You’re making the biggest mistake of your life, young lady.”

“I disagree.”

“You’ll be hearing from my lawyers.”

“Hit me with your worst.” I mean, it wasn’t like I worked at a law firm, or anything. It wasn’t like I was a few semesters away from getting into law school. “I’ve got years of journals detailing every kind of abuse you put me through after dad died. Who do you think a judge is going to believe? A woman who is drunk before noon every day, or a law student who hasn’t ever been admitted to a hospital for drug overdose?”

Maybe it was the vodka giving me the courage or maybe it was Bucky squeezing my hand. Whatever it was, I stepped right up in her space and squared my shoulders. “I will do whatever it takes to keep you out of my life. I’m finally happy. There’s no fucking way in hell I’m going to let you ruin that.”

And, miracle of miracles, she didn’t seem to have anything to say to that. She just stood there, mouth gaping slightly, staring at me. Finally, she seemed to come back to herself and haughtily tossed her hair over her shoulder, slyly taking a few steps backwards.

When she spoke, she was looking over my shoulder at Bucky. “She’ll get tired of you. Y/N doesn’t have the attention span to stick around, so enjoy her while she’s here. Soon enough, she’ll be off whoring her way around.”

“That’s the plan,” I replied sarcastically. Honestly, the only thing stopping me from decking her was Bucky’s tight grip on my hand. “Gonna fuck my way across America. Men, women, and everyone in between—oh, sorry, did I offend your precious homophobic feelings? Forgot that was the last straw before you, you know, disowned me.”

“Your father would be so disappointed in you if he could see you.”

“Funny. I was thinking he’d be disappointed in you.” I couldn’t have been more over this conversation than if I was the cow who jumped over the moon. So, I pulled Bucky as I started walking backwards, towards the apartment complex. “Goodbye, Shandra. And I hope you have a truly terrible life.”

I couldn’t breathe until the door to the complex was locked behind us and I couldn’t hear her yelling anymore. Wearily, I looked up at Bucky. “You gonna let me drink some more now?”

“I’ll pour it for you.”

#buckyxreader au #bucky x reader au #bucky x reader angst #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky x you au #bucky x y/n

[doctorgerth]

On Sauerkraut and Stairs

Written by: @feminist-zoro

Pseudo name: Basilisa Title: On Sauerkraut and Stairs Characters: Blackleg Sanji, Nico Robin, Trafalgar Law, Roronoa Zoro Chosen word: Drunk Fic type: humor, (kind of) domestic pirate life Warnings: cursing, weird food, drunk people being drunk

Although he would rather die than admit it, Sanji really wasn’t much of a drinker. It wasn’t a big problem since he was usually too busy providing food during parties - but from time to time the crew stumbled upon groups that were interested in getting wasted more than anything else. The Heart Pirates were – as weird as it sounds – such a group and every meeting with them had ended badly for poor Sanji and for his even poorer head. It was like they were compensating for their captain’s seriousness and strictness. The Heart Pirates had been using the opportunity of meeting the Straw Hats to its fullest and had been always dropping a heavy drinking tempo, one that even Zoro couldn’t keep up with. This time wasn’t any different and Sanji quickly found himself blabbering and stumbling, with the night still young and both crews still eager to empty all the barrels. As he was still able to control himself, he decided to withdraw for a while, with an excuse of looking for a restroom. 

He intended to head straight to the men’s quarters and dive into his bed, but he sensed someone’s presence on the deck. Well, so much for sleeping. He really couldn’t show that drunk weakness of his now, when someone had spotted him. Especially, if that person was precious Robin-chan, enjoying her book in the light of deck’s lamp and wrapped in a cute blanket.

“Robin-chwaaan~”, Sanji rushed towards her, swirling up the gangway. He tripped midway and almost fell, but Robin caught him in time.

“Sanji, are you alright?” her eyes showed concern as she smiled at him so gently and lovely as only she could smile (Sanji would definitely melt right away, but the world was still circling around him and he wasn’t fully sure what was going on). She held on to him and didn’t withdraw with her Devil Fruit ability until Sanji stood firmly on the deck and stopped looking like he’s just about to faint.

“Of course I am”, he huffed a bit more harshly than he usually talked to women, but almost immediately turned back to his silly self, eyes shining, and cheeks covered in vivid blush. “My amazing Robin-chan is so strong and beautiful! I was blessed with this wonderful rescue!”

“I’m being serious here, Sanji”, she gave him a piercing look and it knocked all ideas and resistance out of his drunk mind. “Are you really alright?”

“… I might have overdone the booze a bit.”

“Oh my”, she couldn’t help but chuckle under her breath seeing Sanji making a face of a kid caught on stealing candies. “They went too hard on you, didn’t they? My poor cook.”

Sanji just whined , “I’ll be so dead tomorrow. And this wild bunch of animals will demand a special hangover breakfast, I’m sure of it.”

“Judging by their tempo, I doubt anyone besides Zoro and Luffy will show up anywhere near food in the close future.”

“Those two alone are enough to kill me.”

Robin laughed aloud, not even bothering to cover her mouth with a hand. She stretched under blankets around her and massaged her stiff nape.

“Would you be so kind and tell Law to bring a cup of coffee for me too?”

“Everything for you, Robin-chwaaa- wait”, Sanji was already half up the stairs when he realized what exactly Robin had said to him. “Tra-guy is here?”

“He said he needed some caffeine, so he should be in the kitchen?” she pointed, but Sanji was already gone, only some muffled swears audible from distance.

Trafalgar Law was indeed in the kitchen, half buried in Sanji’s precious fridge. It took a lot of willpower for Sanji to not kick his butt to teach him a lesson on raiding the allies’ food supplies.

“Has no one told you it’s a dick move to touch other people’s stuff without permission?”, he teased him instead. “Especially if there’s a padlock on it?”

Law turned to him and gazed straight into his eyes as he continued devouring a slice of cheese. He had his pockets stuffed with – as Sanji suspected – the dainties hidden for special meals for Nami and Robin and held a jar of Nami’s hand-made tangerines in syrup. Sanji could feel his anger boiling as the Heart Pirates captain reached for another treat, a slice of ham this time, and – without breaking eye contact – slowly consumed it whole.

Sanji would really kick him for this but the world made a move against him and started swirling around again. He had to grip a counter to prevent an embarrassing fall on his ass. Law looked like he was about to interfere but with one deeper breath he realized it’s not an illness, but just the result of rum and sake.

“Blackleg-ya, you better go to sleep.” He patted Sanji’s shoulder in an awkward attempt of showing sympathy and continued with looting the kitchen. Sanji didn’t really feel like stopping him anymore, just observing him with eyes half opened, so the world wouldn’t dance anymore.

“If you’re looking for something for Robin-chan, then give her cookies with that coffee”, he suggested as Law finally got his hands on the coffee maker. “No sugar nor cream, by the way. And candies are in the storage.”

He threw him a key, missing a good foot in distance. Law immediately roomed it right into his hands, giving Sanji a disapproving look. Yeah, it was definitely time to do something about this spinning. Sanji hummed to himself some old song he randomly recalled, trying to find in the mess of his head some kind of solution. What would the old geezer tell him to do? The answer was so obvious it made Sanji laugh and almost loose his balance when he rushed to execute the idea.

In the corner of the kitchen there was that one specific barrel, which Sanji had never let anyone touch. It was full of high-quality sauerkraut he had been storing for a rainy day. The good, old (but smelly as heck and hard to feed Luffy a dose of) life-saving treat had been with the Strawhats in all dark hours, when Nami’s trees hadn’t been bearing fruit and they were out of other citruses. Sanji thought he could never be its bigger fan than he had already been – until now, as he remembered the magical feature of its juice, the real-life antidote against alcohol. The taste maybe wasn’t the best but the result? Sanji almost cried due to happiness of saving himself from a long and painful process of sobering and surviving the hangover.

Law, though, was far away from happy when he caught him gathering the juice into a cup straight from the barrel and gulping on it like on fresh, cold water. He couldn’t even look straight into Sanji’s face as he gave him the key back, “Blackleg-ya, you don’t need to be that disgusting in public.”

 “You’re the one who got his ass into my kitchen”, Sanji, teasingly, took a long and loud sip. “Shoo, get lost.”

Law looked like he was about to return the late-night snacks. He grabbed the coffeepot and cups and almost bolted out, murmuring some lame excuse under his nose. Sanji celebrated his little win with the last full cup of sauerkraut blessing.

“Robin-chwaaaan, I’m going to use the bathroom~” Then he glanced over the deck, finding his beautiful archeologist and the traumatized surgeon enjoying their coffee and relaxing on the lawn. “Wanna have a bath with me?~”

“I’ll pass but enjoy your time.” Robin sent him her cute, precious smile and he almost melted again.

“You sure you gonna make it up there, Blackleg-ya?” Law still didn’t dare to look straight at his face after their little encounter – or at least Sanji couldn’t tell it from the distance. “You’re drunk as a skunk – and I’m not putting you together, if you fall from there.”

Sanji flipped the bird at him and firmly made his way on the top level. He could feel Robin’s concerned gaze on his back, so he obviously couldn’t fail right now. There’s no way he could make her worried, not his precious Robin-chan! And with the power of sauerkraut behind him, nothing could possibly knock him dead.

He, indeed, won the fight with the stairs – but wasn’t expecting the bathroom door being slammed open for him. It alone almost made him jump but…

“DAVY FUCKING JONES!”, he screamed in pure horror as a weird creature came out, slouching and lurching towards him. He could swear it had multiple limbs and at least two heads. Sanji jumped back, way too far, as he soon learned, leaning over a railing. And, finally, falling headfirst down on the deck.

Robin and Law both acted on reflex, clashing their activated Devil Fruit abilities as a result. The upper part of Sanji’s body was held firmly by Robin’s hands and he could see his legs flying away in the opposite direction, carried by the Law’s power. Someone – maybe even he himself – cursed like an old sailor, something was thrown on the deck and been rolling while making weird noises. The terrifying creature on the top level glanced over the broken railing as Robin put half-conscious Sanji’s part on the lawn.

“Is he finally dead?”, it asked, revealing itself as Roronoa Zoro; very confused and heavily drunk as well – but definitely pleased at a sight of what he had done. The extra limbs Sanji saw were nothing more than his three swords, moved for some reason on the shoulder instead of hip. The ‘second head’ was meanwhile a huge pitcher full of delicious sake. Zoro drank straight from it, almost chocking on the drink and his own laugh.

“You could have killed him, you idiot”, Law scolded him. Together with Robin he tried to put Sanji back together into one piece, what, obviously, wasn’t that easy. The cook was resisting, kicking like mad and turning his torso around in nothing but a pure drunk panic. Robin had to sit on his chest and pin him down, so Law could room the rest back on its place without any other fail.

“Like hell I was expecting him to walk into the bathroom in the middle of a night party”, the main offender didn’t even try to hide a mischievous grin. “Need any help with knocking him out?”

Robin gave him a warning frown, “You rocked the boat enough”. Her serious poker face broke a bit and even Zoro didn’t want to see her really pissed.

“I’ll carry him to the quarters then”, he proposed almost apologetically and rushed down the stairs.

“You better watch yourself; you are wasted and…” Zoro didn’t even let Nico Robin end her sentence as he slipped and drove down the stairs on his ass.

Law just groaned and facepalmed, “Now you know why I don’t let my people drink, Nico-ya”.

When later asked by Chopper how on Earth he got splinters in his butt cheeks, Zoro honestly couldn’t remember anything and Robin, when asked, just made a weird face, suggesting she wouldn’t answer any questions even under torture. So no one asked, including Sanji who’s memories ended very vaguely on seeing something weird in the bathroom. But when you live on the one ship with a living skeleton, humanized reindeer and a dude made of rubber, you quickly learn to exclude the word ‘weird’ from your dictionary.

The barrel of sauerkraut became the only victim of the night. It got ejected into the back of the storeroom and covered with a few layers of rugs. For some unknown reason, Sanji developed a strong disgust towards its smell and taste.

“I would rather die on scurvy than touch this shit”, he claimed, much to Luffy’s happiness.

#entry number 7 #7 #doc’s writing contest #submission #feminist zoro

[littlewolf651]

Moonstruck

So @teamdoesminecraft made an au a while ago with Team Crafed and the series H2O: just add water. And like, at the beginning of the year we talked about a scene for it on her Discord server. So I decided to write it now.

Inspiration is weird.

Uh, enjoy Angie.

It was a nice summer evening out on the Gold Coast, the full moon was rising high over the sky, and most teenagers would be out partying in the warm air or on the beach.

Mitch hated this. He wanted to go out, have fun and try to forget the hell that was now his life, but he couldn't. The fear of touching any water while outside was too much.

For months now Mitch had wanted to prove mermaids were real. He'd been saved by one long ago from drowning and saw it! No one believed him, but he never let that stop him. He'd pushed everyone away in his attempts to find the truth. But no matter how much he wanted to prove it, that did not mean he wanted to become one! It had been a full month, and now he was utterly stuck dealing with this all alone. He couldn't trust anyone and those he could trust wouldn't want to see him. He couldn't blame them, but it didn't make the loneliness any better.

He hated being stuck inside and just wanted to get out for a bit. It wasn't too late so it wasn't like he'd get wet just walking the streets, he'd be okay right? He got up and grabbed his keys, putting on his jacket and heading for the door, opening it up and blinking up at the bright full moon shining down on him.

~~

Jerome had been invited out to hang out with Quentin Ian and for the night but he had turned them down. He wanted to spend some time at home playing video games. He'd typically invite Mitch over to play as well, but the two weren't exactly on speaking terms these days. Mitch's crazy quest to prove mermaids were real was destroying him, and Jerome didn't want any part of that. The final straw was when Mitch nearly drowned on the way to Mako island, and he got yelled at for saving him. If Mitch wanted to kill himself trying to prove something impossible, then fine by him. See if he cared.

"Biggums!" A familiar voice called out outside in his backyard.

Jerome tuned him out, he didn't want to talk to the other.

"Jerome Come Out! I Wanna Show You Something!" he could hear snickering in Mitch's voice. The other was probably drunk or something. All the more reason to ignore him then.

Mitch kept calling out outside until Jerome heard a large splash from his pool outside and a laugh. Of course, the idiot fell in.

Jerome rolled his eyes and paused his game, going to the window and opening it up "Dammit Asshole! I don't wanna talk! Get out of here bef-" his words died in his throat.

Mitch was swimming in his pool, that much he expected. What Jerome wasn't expecting was the enormous gold and orange fishtail swaying where Mitch's legs should be. For a moment, the rational part of him tried to rationalise that this clearly had to be a costume, but something told him that this was real.

Mitch had a stupidly happy grin on his face and waved at Jerome "Come down! Come and look at it!"

Jerome could only give a small nod and closed his window. Walking down the stairs, he felt like his mind was racing. Mitch had a tail. Mitch was in his pool with a fucking tail! What the hell was he supposed to do?! Plus that meant Mitch really was right the whole time! Fuck, Mitch was never gonna let him live it down.

When he finally worked up the courage to go into the backyard, Mitch just grinned and waved happily, swimming up to the edge and resting his arms on the stone edge.

"Uh… Hey…" Jerome muttered still standing at the edge.

"Wanna come for a swim?" Mitch smiled "The water's so niiiice."

Jerome blinked "Uh, you don't seem concerned by the fact you have a tail…"

"I know!" Mitch grinned at that, pushing away from the wall with his arms and admiring his tail that swished in the water "Isn't it pretty?"

"I mean, yeah. But… how?" Jerome murmured in shock.

Mitch didn't seem to hear the question or ignored it, happily running his hand along the scales of the tail "I told you merpeople were real." he snickered "Cause I am one now!"

Jerome could tell something was definitely wrong with Mitch. Mitch was a dumbass, but he wasn't this much of a dumbass "Uh, Mitch, have you been drinking or something?"

"Just the moonlight. It's so pretty, isn't it?"

"... Sure."

Mitch reached out with his hand and tried to reach Jerome's leg "Come swim!" he cooed.

"Uh, In a minute." Jerome smiled nervously taking a small step back "Just gotta make a call is all."

Mitch seemed satisfied with that answer and beamed "Okay!" he nodded before going back to entertaining himself in the water.

Jerome quickly raced back in and grabbed his phone. He had no idea who he was supposed to call but found himself calling Ian's number. He'd hung out with him and Quentin lately since cutting ties with Mitch. They were also pretty secretive so he hoped they'd be willing to keep one more secret.

"Hello?" Ian's voice yawned on the phone after picking up

"Uh hey Ian, where are you now?" Jerome asked, his foot tapping on the ground tensely

"At Quentin's house? I did invite you over, right? The offer still stands."

"Well yeah, but… Look can you guys come over? I need your help."

"Why? What's wrong?"

"Uh…" Jerome looked back out the window at Mitch still happily swimming in the water, his tail flipping out water and soaking the deck with pool water "Mitch came over and-"

Ian sighed "Jerome, I told you, don't listen to him. He needs time to learn his lesson and-"

"No, Ian, you don't understand! Mitch is my pool right now with-"

"He's not drunk, is he?"

"Mitch is in my pool with a fucking fishtail where his legs should be!" Jerome yelled into the phone.

There was silence from the other line before Ian's voice spoke in shock "What?"

Jerome quickly explained what had happened, and he heard Quentin groan in the background and mutter something about the moon. Ian sighed again "Alright alright, we're coming over. Just, keep Mitch quiet and not draw attention. The last thing you need is neighbours checking him out."

Ian hung up quickly after that and Jerome put his phone down. He walked back out to the pool and sighed, watching Mitch happily swimming. He sat down by the edge and watched Mitch come swimming over, still grinning like an idiot.

~~~~

It took a while and a lot of trying to keep Mitch from splashing so much, but Ian and Quentin finally showed up, taking the side door into the yard and staring at the sight in shock.

"Hey, Ian! Hey Quentin!" Mitch grinned "I told you they were real! See?!" he gestured to his tail happily.

Quentin groaned and smacked his forehead while Ian looked at Quentin "I told you he'd blow it eventually."

"Shut it, or I'm pushing you in with him," Quentin grumbled.

Jerome got up and stared at them "How are you guys so calm about this?!"

Ian raised an eyebrow "Why the hell do you think Jerome?"

After a minute, Jerome blinked in shock "You mean to tell me Mitch was right about you guys knowing something about merfolk?" he demanded

"Look, do you want our help or not?" Quentin demanded

"Help with what? I've never been better!" Mitch grinned

Jerome looked at Mitch and sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose "What's wrong with him?"

"The idiot went and got himself moonstruck." Quentin explained, shaking his head at Mitch in disappointment "The full moon can have different effects on merfolk depending on the planets and or what they're doing and stuff. We're just lucky he didn't go to the beach or something and expose himself to a crowd or something."

"Well, how do we turn him back?" Jerome demanded

"Well he won't go back to acting normal till the moon sets, and we need to dry him off as well."

It took a solid hour to get Mitch out of the pool. He kept insisting he just wanted to swim. They only managed to get him out when Jerome got in the water to lure him to the edge so Ian and Quentin could grab his arms and pull him out. Jerome got out as well, and after using a towel to somewhat dry himself, he wrapped it around Mitch's tail it to help carry him inside to Jerome's bed. They initially tried to put him on the couch, but the merman flopped onto the floor and started pulling himself back to the pool.

Once Mitch was reasonably dry, Quentin explained they just had to wait till morning now and that they'd properly explain everything to Jerome and Mitch.

They two left downstairs after that to go sleep on the couches while Jerome sat on a chair next to Mitch on the bed.

"So, uh… you're really a merman now.?" he asked, trying to break the ice since they hadn't spoken in a good month.

Mitch nodded "Yep. isn't it cool?"

"Yeah but... you have your own pool at home… why come here?"

"I wanted to see you." Mitch smiled and gave a small yawn "Missed you."

Jerome blinked "You missed me?"

"Mm-hmm." Mitch nodded, snuggling into the bedsheets "I've been a real meanie to you."

Yeah, he was definitely not all there at the moment, Mitch rarely ever admitted he was at fault.

Jerome sighed "We'll talk more tomorrow biggums, you've got a lot of explaining to do." he muttered, getting up and leaving to sleep in the guest bedroom while mitch happily fell asleep on the other's bed.

~~~~

Mitch's head hurt like hell when he woke up the next morning. Fuck, had he been drinking or something? He couldn't remember anything from the previous night. What happened?

When he realised where he was, however, he grew pale and swore softly. Oh God, what was he doing in Jerome's house?! In his bed?! How drunk was he?! He was still clothed thankfully, so it seemed like nothing had happened, but he really didn't want to know or be proven wrong.

He could hear the shower going in the bathroom next door, Jerome was probably in there. It was probably best if he left now. He didn't want to be caught in the awkwardness that would be talking with him after the last time they spoke did not end on good terms.

He got out, and after making sure he had his keys and phone, he tiptoed down the stairs and to the front door. He could see two figures sleeping on the couches but didn't stay around to see who in case they woke up.

Once out the door, he practically sprinted back home, slamming the door to his house behind him once inside, his mind racing.

His phone rang, and he could see it was from Jerome, but he let it ring out. He didn't want to talk, he didn't want to see him. It was better if he didn't try to remember that night.

But nothing major could've happened that night, right?

#team crafted #merome #bajancanadian #jeromeasf #asfjerome #huskymudkiperz #ssundee #writing #H2OAU #mermaidAU #writings

[writinginstardust]

Don’t Leave Me Again

Pairing: Nik Malikov x reader

Request:  @thats-so-bucky asked “ okay I think I have an idea for the plot: you know in Obsidio the scene that killed us all? either before that and it’s like “I don’t wanna lose you and we’ll see each other again and i just wanna be with you one last time” or after that like “I thought you died you asshole and now I wanna show you how much I love you”🤔😂”

Warnings: It’s smut guys, also like super brief mentions of violence and death?

A/N: I actually like this? wtf? Personally I think this is the best smut I’ve written so far and I actually like it so that’s pretty awesome. you’ve got to get through a wee bit of angst before the smut comes but it’s worth it! Oh the title? Yeah...I mean I hope that by now you all know i’m shit with titles so like i’m literally never apologising for them again as of today, okay?

Word Count: 2728

*

My body shook with uncontainable sobs as I sat curled up in the corner flight deck, safely hidden from prying eyes behind boxes of mechanical gear. I'd started the moment I got back to the Mao after fighting Bei-Tech and hadn't stopped since. That was 6 hours ago but still the tears hadn't run dry.

Nik was dead. Shot down by people that had already taken far too much from both of us. It was one straw too many for me. I’d felt myself shatter - heart and soul fractured and crumbling into the dark abyss which had opened inside me. I didn't know if I could be whole again after so much loss and I wasn't even sure I wanted to be.

The sound of footsteps echoed in the silence of the abandoned deck and i shrunk further in on myself to make sure I was well and truly hidden. I didn't want anyone to see me like this even if they all probably knew anyway. The steps sped up, slowed down, stopped, came closer and moved away seemingly at random, whoever had come here was clearly looking for something. I just hoped they found it before they found me.

“(Y/N)?” A voice. An impossible voice. A voice I knew so well and thought I'd never hear again, saying my name. Stars it had never sounded so bittersweet.

“(Y/N)?” There it was again, that flawless imitation of Nik's voice, cruelly conjured from my memories. My sniffles got a little louder as I shook my head to try and rid myself of the phantom and i heard the footsteps stop, their owner listening. I tried to silence myself but a loud hiccup escaped.

The steps came quickly towards me and I tried to clean myself up as best in could before they got there. I realised it was all in vain when Nik came into view from around a stack of toolboxes.

“...No. Nonono… not this, please not this…” I shook my head and scrambled backwards as he took a step towards me, a mixture of concern and relief on his face.

“(Y/N), hey, it's okay, it's just me.”

“No. No it can't be…”

“(Y/N)...”

“No!” I yelled and scrubbed at my eyes to make the vision go away. But it was still there when I opened them again. “It can't...you're dead! You can't be here!”

“(Y/N), I'm not dead. I promise. I'm here. I'm real.” He crouched down and cradled my face in his hands. Hands that were warm and solid and so very, very real. Fuck, they were real.

“H-how? I hated the raspiness of my voice but there was nothing I could do about it after all the crying.

“Well now isn't the time for ‘I told you so’ but the parachute you all gave me shit about saved our lives.”

“So Ezra…?”

“He's okay as well.” I felt most of the tension seep out of my body and I slumped forward, Nik catching me in his arms as fresh tears fell. Tears of relief this time. “Shhh, it's okay. I'm sorry I did that to you. I know what it's like thinking you've lost someone and I never wanted to put you through that...again.”

“I'm just...I thought I lost you...for real this time.”

“I know, and I'm so sorry. If it helps this'll be the last time.” That got a small laugh out of me and I felt Nik smile as he pressed a kiss to my forehead.

“It had better be, I don't think I can take it again.”

“I promise.” One of Nik's hands tilted my head up from where it rested on his chest so he could bring our lips together. Kissing Nik wasn't something I thought I'd ever get to do again and I savoured every second of contact as if it was all still a dream or a memory that would fade too soon.

With a sudden surge of need, I tangled a hand in Nik's hair and pressed our lips more firmly together. He didn't hesitate in responding just as enthusiastically, his hands gripping tightly enough that it was slightly painful as he pulled me closer. I didn't mind the pain. Pain meant it was real, that he was real. I knew I wasn't holding him very gently either but he didn't seem at all bothered.

Desperation and relief fuelled every action as hands roamed - both of us reassuring ourselves that we were still here and whole...physically at least. Emotionally? That was another story, one we'd deal with another time. For now at least I wanted to lose myself in Nik, drown in his touch if I could, and get rid of the lingering despair that had clawed away at my heart every moment I'd thought him lost to me.

I managed to mavouver myself into his lap and wasted no time in beginning to grind against him, the need coursing through my veins not allowing me to tell him what I wanted with words. Words weren't something either of us needed right now anyway, contact was. In every touch it was clear what we craved and our bodies responded automatically and enthusiastically to the silent questions and pleas. It was only after I slid my hands down Nik's chest and started working on the button of his trousers that he pulled back slightly.

“(Y/N),” his voice was breathy and slightly hoarse and it shot a bolt of need through me. “We can't...not here...someone might-”

“They won't.” I cut him off and returned to kissing him as I finally managed to get his trousers undone. He let out a groan as I palmed him through his underwear but still tried to protest.

“They might.” With a sigh I sat back a bit and removed my hand from him. He actually had the audacity to pout a little at that even though it was his own fault.

“Everyone is too busy with other things to care about coming to the flight deck. Trust me I've been here for hours and not a single person has come in here except you. No one's gonna walk in on us. ...But like, if you don't want to...” I trailed off, wondering if maybe he really didn't want to have sex right now - it wasn't like him to be this worried about something so small.

“No I want to, stars I want to so bad, but what if someone wanders by and hears us or something?”

“Well then you'll just have to keep your pretty mouth shut won't you? I know it's hard but I think you can manage.” I smirked at him and he rolled his eyes but I saw some of the tension seep from him at seeing my significantly lighter mood. It melted something in me into a warm little puddle that he worried so much despite him being the one that almost died.

“It was more you I was worried about.” He smirked right back at me, clearly no longer concerned about the prospect of being walked in on, maybe he'd just been worried I wasn't thinking clearly and might regret it.

“Well if you keep my mouth busy then we won't have a problem, will we?”

“No, we won't, and I think I'm up to that particular task.” Just to prove it, he brought our lips together again in a kiss so hot and intense it felt like my whole body was being engulfed in flames. When he broke it I was left breathless and desperate for more. More of those kisses, more of those hands that were burning at my waist, more of everything Nik would give. As it happened, he was willing to give me everything.

I returned my hand to where I knew Nik wanted it and he he moaned a little at the contact. While one of his own hands slid up my shirt, the other found its way down the back of my trousers and rested firmly against my ass as he pulled me closer to him. His lips moved from my own and to my neck, kissing every inch of skin he had access to and leaving marks I'd never be able to hide. Another day I might have complained, but they’d be a reminder that this had happened and Nik was here. I let him make as many as he liked. Eventually he moved his hand on my butt between us to pop open the button of my trousers, far quicker than I'd managed, and slid his fingers into my underwear.

I gasped out at the first touch and reflexively moved my hips into his hand, chasing the tiny jolts of pleasure he brought. I felt his pleased smile against my flushed skin and pressed my hand more firmly against him in retaliation. His answering groan left a grin on my face to match his.

Nik, the little shit that he was, normally took his time, teasing me until I threatened to kick his ass into next week if he didn’t get on with it, but not today. He paused briefly after the first stroke of my clit and I was fully prepared to growl out my frustration - now was not the time for this - but, to my surprise he slid two fingers into me just a moment later. A loud noise that was equal parts surprise and pleasure escaped me and my hands flew to my mouth to try and stifle the ones that followed as Nik continued to move his fingers in a steady but certainly not slow rhythm.

He looked up at me and I had to stifle another goan at the unfiltered desire in his gaze. It seared my skin and heated my blood until it felt more like lava was running through my veins. His free hand left its place up my shirt and pulled my own away from my mouth so he could kiss me once more - hot, hard, and desperate. Now with his lips to muffle the obscene string of sounds I couldn’t seem to contain and my hands free, I pushed Nik’s underwear down as far as I could and pulled out his already fully-hard cock. Wrapping a hand around it, I began stroking in the same rhythm as he set with his own hand in me. His breath hitched audibly and his movements stuttered to a stop for a moment at the stimulation I provided him before I rolled my hips impatiently and swiped my thumb over his head. He groaned at the extra pleasure but restarted his movements, this time adding a third finger and pressing his thumb firmly against my clit.

Both our movements sped up as the pleasure and desperation for more built. I could feel release slowly creeping up on me and when Nik curled his fingers just so and hit a spot that had me seeing stars I knew I wouldn’t last much longer and was fairly sure he wouldn’t either. I ground down furiously against his fingers making sure to keep him hitting that same spot inside me over and over and was almost there when he abruptly removed his hand from my underwear. I barely had time to comprehend what he was doing through my desire-addled thoughts before I was laid down on the floor and Nik was dragging my trousers and underwear down my legs and throwing them off to the side along with my boots. He pulled his own down enough to keep them out of the way but was too impatient to bother with more as he leaned over me to connect our lips hungrily and finally slide himself into me. He didn’t move immediately and I could tell from the tension in his body that he was waiting a moment to calm down and make it last more than a few seconds but I was completely out of patience and shifted my hips to try and urge him on.

“Please...Nik please,” I begged when my efforts went unrewarded. “I need you, please just...I need you to fuck me.”

“...Fuck.” The word was breathed out shakily against my skin and it only made me more desperate. Luckily Nik’s patience had evaporated with my pleas and he finally drew his hips back and thrust back into me.

He didn’t bother starting steady this time but immediately set a hard and fast rhythm that had me crying out with no restraint as I attempted to move my hips to meet his. He wrapped an arm under me and lifted my hips, effectively stopping my own movements but changing the angle so he hit my g-spot on every thrust. My back arched as my pleasure doubled and I gripped desperately at Nik’s shirt - the only thing keeping my nails from scratching up his skin from the force of my grip.

I felt myself hurtling towards my release and with just a few more thrusts from Nik I was clenching around him and crying out his name as it flooded through me and I came harder than I ever had before. I barely noticed Nik coming soon after as the waves of my orgasm washed over me and blocked out anything that wasn’t a feeling of total bliss.

I only came back to myself when I felt him pull out of me, a soft whine from the empty feeling he left and the overstimulation leaving my lips. I heard him flop down beside me and turned my head to look at him. Beads of sweat ran down the side of his face and his expression was one of exhausted contentment. His chest was rising and falling heavily as he tried to regain his breath and his hair was an absolute mess that I couldn’t resist reaching up to run my hand through. A smile worked its way onto his face and he turned towards me, shifting a bit so he could press a soft kiss to my lips. I noticed him wince a little as he pulled away again and immediately sat up with a frown.

“You’re hurt.” I said accusingly. I could feel tears prickling at my eyes as it reminded me of how close he’d come to dying.

“I’m fine.” I didn’t buy it and he could tell. “I am, I promise. It’s nothing serious and a medic already looked me over and said I was okay.”

“But you almost weren’t.” My voice was barely more than a whisper and shook slightly. Nik immediately sat up as well and pulled me into his arms.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t ever do that again, you asshole.”

“What? Fuck you so good you black out for 5 minutes?” I hit his shoulder playfully at that.

“No, that you can do again. A lot. But next time you almost die, I’m killing you myself.”

“I don’t doubt that you will. But you don’t have to worry, that’s never happening again.”

“Good.” I kissed him quickly once more before getting up and fetching my clothes from where Nik had thrown them earlier. My legs were a bit weak and shaky but I managed to pick them up and put them on without issue. As soon as I was done I felt arms slide around my waist and lips against my cheek.

“Y’know, if you’re planning to go, you should probably fix your hair.” Nik murmured, his smirk clear in his voice.

“There’s really no point when you did that.” I lifted a hand to point at my neck as I replied.

“Good point. Come on then, let’s go be useful.”

“Or we could go do something else…somewhere more private...” I turned in his arms and looked up at him, eyebrow raised suggestively.

“Something else sounds good.” I grinned as I disentangled myself from his arms and started to walk away. He caught up in just a couple of steps and slid a hand into my back pocket as I wrapped my arm around his waist. I smiled and leaned into him a bit as we made our way through the ship halls glad my waking nightmare was finally over and my friends and I had lived through it. Nik had come back to me and I was never, ever, going to lose him again.

*

Tag Lists: (send an ask if you want to be added!)

Everything: @wonderfilledness

Illuminae: @thats-so-bucky

#nik malikov #nik malikov x reader #nik malikov imagine #nik malikov fanfic #nik malikov x you #nik malikov smut #illuminae #the illuminae files #illuminae fanfic #illuminae imagine #reader insert

[dontaskmewhyiwrite]

Mystery Knight

One Piece, LawLu Word Count: 6313 Rating: T (for language) Genre: Fluff, Modern!Au, Adventure

Summary: Law will remember the first snow of that year. After all, it’s not everyday you meet a stranger who takes you out for a night of adventure.

Law’s feet pound against the pavement, further aggravating his headache as he sprints towards the train station. He bypasses the security guard, flashing his transport card as he speeds by, barreling through the other pedestrians. The sounds of his own footsteps echo against the bare walls. His teeth ache.

As he flies down the staircase, he looks up long enough to notice the subway doors slowly closing. He wills his feet to move faster, but before he can reach them, the train begins to slide out of the station. He watches his last hope rattle away.

“Dammit!” Law rubs at his pounding headache. At this rate, he’ll have a migraine in no time.

“Miss the train?” a high voice asks behind him. Law refrains from spinning around and decking the stranger in frustration.

“If I take a cab to- no, the main road is blocked off for the night because of construction. Fuckin’ great timing, and the detour adds another two hours. If traffic’s nice. No way I’ll make it in time. How about-” He flicks through his phone, looking up traffic and estimated detour times. As he figured, the recent construction has blocked the only road that would get him there fast enough. The next fastest route will be too late. He might as well wait for the morning train. It might be a long shot, but there’s a possibility he could still make it if he takes the first one. A minute possibility.

“Tryin’ to get to Punk Hazard, huh? You’re probably best off waiting ‘till morning,” the intruder comments, peering over Law’s shoulder. Law grinds his teeth.

“Thank you for stating the obvious. Don’t you have something else to do?” he growls, shrugging his shoulder in an attempt to push the kid away.

“Not really. ‘Sides, you look lost. And lonely. I’ll keep you company!”

Law pinches the bridge of his nose, willing this annoyance and his headache to leave. Do people enjoy making his life more difficult?

“I’m not lost. And I’m not lonely. Go away,” he orders, taking a few steps away from the guy and returning to his phone. He halfheartedly searches the bus times, knowing it’s futile.

“Not sure what you’re expecting from the buses that taxis can’t do. Wanna get something to eat? Food makes everything better. Especially meat! Let’s get some meat!” The stranger grabs his arm, forcefully pulling Law towards some restaurant or cafe or other food location. Law staggers behind, momentarily caught up trying to keep his balance before he manages to pull away.

They’ve made it back to the stairs before Law regains his balance and yanks back, wrenching his arm out of this nuisance’s surprisingly strong grip.

Who is this stranger to just drag him along like that?

“What the fuck?” he asks, not particularly expecting a response. The stranger tilts their head, looking confused.

“You don’t want meat?” they wonder, brow furrowed in confusion. Law finds himself pinching the bridge of his nose again and stops.

“No,” he retorts, putting as much venom into that one word that he can. Unfortunately for him, his stomach decides in that moment to give a loud growl. The stranger turns to take his arm once again.

“Shi shi shi, you’re so weird! If you’re hungry, you eat meat! C’mon, I know a good place!” he offers, holding his hand out like Law’s gonna take it and let himself be whisked away.

“Even if I am hungry, I don’t want to eat with a total stranger. I can find my own place, so fuck off.” Law flips the middle finger and pushes past the stranger. This does not deter the vexation. Instead, he follows along, asking exactly where Law will be going.

“I know all the places here, I’ll tell you if it’s any good! Especially the meat, I know all the meat! C’mon, where you headed? Not that there are many places open now. It’s late! Most of them are closing! Except, the place I know! It’s open, and we’ll get in quick!” He follows behind Law with little regard for personal space, chattering at a speed that doesn’t allow for conversation. Not that Law plans on responding.

The crisp night air greets them as they step onto the street. Despite the late hour, there are still people milling about, guided by the frequent street lamps and humming neon lights. Sabaody is truly a city that never sleeps.

Beside him, Law’s new ‘friend’ continues to babble. Exasperated, Law considers his options. He could try violence, but there’s too many people still strolling about. Running from the police would only further delay him. He could also try slipping away and hoping he loses the pest, but it sounds like that might be difficult. Also a delay he doesn't need. He decides on the only course of action he thinks might succeed.

He points towards the first place with a glowing “OPEN” sign.

“I'm going there. Goodbye.” With that he walks off, headed in that direction.

“You sure?”

“Yes, so fuck off.” Law marches resolutely forward, hands pushed deep into his coat pockets. The few people headed in the opposite direction choose to give him some space, unlike the dolt beside him.

“If you’re sure that’s where you wanna eat?” they repeat, and Law grinds his teeth together. He elects to ignore the meddler, in a vain attempt to dissuade them from following.

It doesn’t take him long to reach his intended location, and he quickly sees why he was asked if he really wanted to eat here. The bar is packed, with people even standing outside holding drinks and trays of chips. Throbbing music fills the night air every time the door opens. There’s a handwritten poster pasted on the door that advertises some event.

Next to him, the stranger grins.

“You suuuuure you wanna eat here? Looks crowded, and the food doesn’t even smell good. No meat. Trust me, the place I know is suuuuper good. Best in town. You’ll wanna go there every time you’re nearby. Can’t say much for the staff, but the food is the best ever! Besides Sanji, but it’s where he learned, so that makes them equal. It’s really good!”

Around them, any remaining restaurants are closing. Law stares at the bar, briefly considering if it would make a better alternative to the incessant nagging. Nearby, a drunk vomits. The stranger continues to pester him about choosing an alternative location.

Law pinches the bridge of his nose.

“All right, already! If I get food, will you leave me the truck alone?” He spits without thinking, then immediately regrets it as the stranger’s face lights up.

“Meat!” With Law’s consent now, the straw hat-wearing stranger grabs him once again and starts winding through crowds and past closed restaurants. Law pulls away once again, but it doesn’t seem to upset his guide. At least they stop trying to grab for him. Eventually the stranger stops in front of a mid-sized family restaurant and pulls the door open, practically shoves Law inside. They follow close behind.

The place has a nice atmosphere,with dim lights and a delicious smell wafting through. It’s fairly busy, considering the hour, though perhaps that’s due to it being the only decent place open for a few blocks. A small queue is lined up along the wall. Law is pushed forward a bit, before the stranger decides he’s being too slow and walks around him.

“Table for two, please!” they announce to the host, who immediately looks alarmed. He finds the stranger and scowls.

“You! I thought you were told not to come alone!” The host growls, pointing an accusing finger.

“I’m not alone! I said, TABLE FOR TWO!” The stranger yells obnoxiously. The host rubs his ear with a grimace and looks uncertainty at Law. When Law doesn’t deny being the plus one, he begins leading them into the restaurant. Strawhat wraps a hand around Law’s arm and forcefully pulls him along with their powerful grip.

To Law’s surprise, they are taken to a private room located in the very back of the restaurant and labeled with a “Reserved” sign. The room is secluded from the rest of the guests, just within sight of the kitchen. Its furniture is a tad better maintained, and there’s a bell for signaling when service is needed. The single light above them is dimmed to a pleasant hue, allowing for intimacy without being romantic or suggestive. As the barrier is put up behind them, the bustle and rumble ebbs to a light murmur.

“This is some high-class treatment for having been nearly kicked out,” Law comments, glancing at the stranger. Their pouring over the menu, though they doesn’t look like they’re actually reading it. Rather, aren’t they just drooling over the pictures? They’re softly whispering “meat,” but Law’s fairly certain they aren’t aware of it.

He takes the time they’re distracted to study the stranger. They look young, at least younger than Law, but if Law had to guess, perhaps not as young as their appearance would suggest. Their straw hat is strapped around their neck, giving them a bit of a farming kid’s vibe, but it’s paired oddly with an red hoodie and a pair of mid-calf length blue pants. The flip flops just add to the oddity, and Law finds his headache returning the more he tries to understand, so he turns to the menu instead. Most of the food on the menu is fairly standard for the area, though Law sees a few items that catch his attention. He settles on the swordfish steak just as the waiter appears, already looking annoyed.

“Strawhat,” he greets, though it’s more of a warning. “What’re ya interested in today? Oh, wait, let me guess: ya want every meat item on the menu, as usual?” he glares, daring the stranger - Strawhat - to agree. Strawhat just laughs. “See! You understand! Meat is the best!” Obviously they doesn’t realize the waiter is being sarcastic, or don’t seem to care.

“You know the rules! Pick one - ONE - item, Strawhat. One!”

Strawhat pouts, staring down at the menu for a bit, before pointing to a picture. “That one, then! And lots of it!”

The waiter scowls. “No.”

Ignoring Strawhat’s whines and complaints, the host turns to Law, his expression softening into more of an apathetic stare. “And you?”

Law orders the swordfish steak and a glass of wine, and the waiter quickly escapes the barrage of orders for extra meat.

“Would you even be able to eat all of that?” Law asks, setting his menu aside. Strawhat immediately confirms that they would be able to eat it all, and more, and starts to rant about meat and it’s deliciousness. Law lets them talk, not particularly paying attention as his thoughts start to wonder back to his current dilemma. He’s not sure he’ll be able to get to Punk Hazard in time for the surgery, and if he misses this one… He rubs his temple.

“You all right?” Strawhat asks, stopping their monologue to lean over the table until their in Law’s space.

“Yes, I’m fine. Back the fuck off.” Law pushes Strawhat’s face away without much success, as they push back against Law’s hand.

“You sure? You look upset, like you’re worried, or somethin’.”

Law sighs. It’s futile. “I’m fine, and even if I wasn’t, that isn’t your fucking business, is it?”

“Sure it is. You’re my friend!”

That… isn’t what Law is expecting. “You don’t even know me! I’m not your friend!” But Strawhat doesn’t seem to care.

“Do you need some meat? I’ll tell them to hurry up. Meat solves everything.” Before Law can protest, Strawhat is ringing the bell obnoxiously and poking their head out, yelling for the waiter, who immediately scowls upon seeing them.

“What do you want, brat?” He yells as soon as he’s in earshot.

“Meat! Bring it faster!”

The waiter rolls his eyes and leaves, ignoring Strawhat’s cries for their food to arrive more quickly. Strawhat sits back down, to Law’s relief, and pouts.

“How rude, he didn’ even listen.” Law shouldn’t be surprised at them sticking their tongue out in the general direction of the waiter, and yet he still is.

He pinches the bridge of his nose. How did he end up in this mess?

A warm hand suddenly presses against his forehead, and Law looks up to see Strawhat a few inches away, seemingly trying to check his temperature with their hand. They don’t appear to know what their doing, but rather mimicking something they’ve seen done.

“Hm…. You’re warm,” they conclude and pull away. “You should drink something cold.”

Law doesn’t respond for a moment. This random kid whom he’s never met before is suddenly giving him medical advice? He’s so incredulous, Law actually starts to laugh. They must see this as a good sign, because Strawhat sits back looking pleased.

“You finally smiled!”

Law leans his head back, staring up at the wooden ceiling. Yeah, he supposes that he did smile, for a moment. When was the last time he laughed?

When was the last time someone tried to take his temperature with their hand?

Before he can start to become nostalgic and think of the way things were, the waiter arrives with his wine, bringing him back to the present. Strawhat eagerly takes their own drink - a fruit juice, from the looks of it - and begins noisily slurping it down.

“So? What’s gottcha worried?” Strawhat asks again around a plastic straw. In a moment of impetuousness, Law tells him.

“There’s a surgery that’s gonna happen at 7 AM tomorrow, and the kid that’s going into the surgery is a patient of mine. He’s a good kid, and I promised him I’d be there.” Law sighs as he thinks about missing the surgery. His brow furrows as he recalls exactly why he was running late.

There’s a moment of silence, and Law looks up, finally meeting Strawhat’s eyes. Only, they aren’t looking at Law, but towards the kitchen. Probably thinking about the food that hasn’t arrived yet. Law almost laughs again, wondering what he was expecting from this food-obsessed stranger. Sure enough, Strawhat perks up.

“Food’s here!” they announce before the waiter has even arrived. A moment later, the barrier is pulled back and their dishes are placed on the table. Strawhat begins eating before the waiter has even left. Law follows, deciding to enjoy the swordfish steak instead of worrying or getting annoyed.

Unsurprisingly, Strawhat finished their meal in a matter of minutes, and clamor for more food every time the waiter passes by. Law’s fairly certain that whatever mechanism their bell is hooked up to has been disabled, judging by the lack of response to Strawhat’s ceaseless ringing. The chaos is a welcome distraction, and the food is excellent. By the time the bill arrives, Law’s feeling that perhaps letting a complete stranger drag him to an unknown restaurant late at night wasn’t as much of a mistake as he’d been expecting. He’s almost sad to see the odd eccentric go, though not enough to actually stick around.

The waiter hands him the check directly, and partially out of pity for the poor employee, Law decides to cover the whole meal.

“Thank ya for eating at the Baratie. Have a nice day, and please, don’t return," the waiter says as he returns Law’s card. Strawhat ignores the slight and grabs Law's arm, pulling him out of their little room.

"C'mon, we gotta get you to your place before that kid leaves!" It's lacking details, but Law is surprised at the fact that Strawhat was paying attention enough to remember even that.

"Right..." he agrees, trying to pull away as Strawhat tugs him further into the restaurant. Wait, further?

"Why are we doing deeper in?" Law furrows his brow, trying to think of a reason they would be headed towards the back kitchen instead of leaving out the front, like normal customers.

Strawhat isn't going to steal food, is he?

Law stops suddenly, nearly crashing into a waiter who's trying to slip around them. None of them seem to be concerned about Strawhat in the middle of their kitchen, despite the waiter and host's earlier behaviors, so Law reluctantly follows behind. He considers turning around and leaving, but Strawhat notices him lagging and wraps a vice like grip around his wrist.

"C'mon! We gotta hurry!" They urge, pulling Law a bit more insistently. "He’s gonna leave!"

"Leave?" Law wonders, stumbling behind. They head through the kitchen, the cooks greeting them as they pass and occasionally keeping Strawhat's wandering hands from taking more food. The cooks seem quite used to the stranger’s sticky fingers, and laugh as one of the head cooks yells at them for trying to steal food.

Before he realizes it, they've headed out the back of the kitchen towards where the cooks take their smoking break. Strawhat makes a beeline for what looks like the head chef, judging solely by the extremely large chef’s hat, who's crushing a cigarette underfoot..

"Hey! HEY! OLD MAN! WAIT!" He yells, sprinting forward to catch the departing waiter. Law nearly crashes into another employee, then barely keeps himself from face planting into the asphalt, before managing to pull himself out of Strawhat's grip again. By then it's a moot point anyway because they’ve successfully gotten the head chef’s attention.

"We need a ride! You're going towards Punk Hazard, right? C'mon, it's not difficult, you're headed that way anyway, give us a ride! C'mon, c'mon, give us a ride! Please? You'll give us a ride, right? Thanks, old man!" Without waiting for any sort of confirmation, Strawhat grabs Law's arm again and heads towards the muddy truck several feet away. They throw open the passenger side door and shove Law in, then clamber in after him. Much to Law's horror, it's only a two seat truck, and Strawhat plants themselves firmly in Law's lap, already chattering away about car rides. Law's first instinct is to try pushing the stranger off of him, but there's nowhere for them to go. In the end, he manages to squish himself against the door and the annoyance, sharing the seat between the two of them. It's a tight fit, but it's better than having someone sitting in his lap.

The driver climbs in, already ignoring Strawhat's incessant prattling, and starts up the truck. "Whatcha going to Punk Hazard for?" he asks, glancing at Law.

"Work," Law offers, then turns to stare out the window. The chef doesn't seem to take offense to his cold behavior, instead focusing on the road.

After a minute or so, the driver turns on the radio and pumps the volume up high enough to drown out Strawhat's rattling, though it’s effectiveness is debatable. Strawhat stops talking, instead singing along with the songs and humming along with the ones they don’t know the words to. At least they’re keeping themselves entertained, for now.

Law isn't sure when it happens, but at some point while he's staring out at the dark landscape passing by, Strawhat falls asleep. Perhaps it was sudden, Law wouldn't be surprised, but he becomes aware of a weight against his shoulder. Pressed against each other as they are, Law isn't surprised to find Strawhat's head resting there, the kid completely passed out. The driver turns the radio down to a low background noise, and Law drinks in the quiet. He realizes that it's the first time since arriving in Sabody that he's had an actual, quiet moment mostly to himself.

Unfortunately, it also means that he has room to think. His thoughts start to wander towards the morning that lays ahead of him. At this rate, even if he makes it on time, he's going to be exhausted. He hasn't slept in nearly 28 hours now, due to traveling all night and conferences and meetings and conventions all day. As he thinks about it, he finds his eyelids starting to become heavy, and the soft breathing of the body against his lulls him to sleep.

He doesn't sleep long. It can't be more than two hours later when the truck jolts, waking Law, and judging by the sleepy babble, Strawhat as well. The streetlamps burn his eyes, seeming too bright in the confusion of being startled awake.

"Are we there?" he mumbles, trying to stretch in the cramped space. Next to him, Strawhat rubs his eyes and yawns.

"As far as I can take ya. Wish I could get ya the rest of the way, but I gotta get home, ya know?" The driver turns off the truck and gets out, stretching as he stands in the crisp night air.

Law grumbles as he opens the door, pulling Strawhat out with him and nearly causing them both to fall.

"Wake up, will ya? C'mon, walk on your own," Law protests as Strawhat leans against him.

"Mmmnnnn... five mor' min'ues..." he replies, latching onto Law's arm. Law pinches the bridge of his nose. What a heavy sleeper.

"There's meat," he says calmly, and watches in slight disbelief as Strawhat immediately perks up, searching around intently.

"Meat! Where?" After a moment, he seems to realize that he's been duped, and he frowns.

"There's no meat!" he complains, glaring at Law. Law shrugs, unconcerned.

"Yeah," he agrees, then turns to the driver. "Thanks for the ride." The driver waves, indicating it wasn't a problem. He crushes his cigarette.

"Don’t mention it. As much flak as we give that one, we owe him a lot. Any friend of his is a friend of ours."

That wasn't what Law was expecting. He thought Strawhat was a nuisance? The driver must recognize his confusion, because he gives a low chuckle.

"He's a brat, for sure, and an annoying bastard, but as much trouble as he causes, he did us one hell of a favor. ‘Sides, you can’t truly hate the kid. Don't worry, you'll see what I mean soon enough," he snorts, patting Law roughly on the back.

"Well, see ya. Brat, take care!" With a final wave goodbye, the driver takes off, leaving the two of them at the rest stop. Only after the taillights can no longer be seen does Law realize that he is effectively stuck in the middle of nowhere with a highly annoying stranger.

"So, what now?" he asks, looking at Strawhat, who's still waving excitedly goodbye.

"Now we wait!" he chirps, heading into the gas station. The single employee sitting behind the counter glances up at them before resuming whatever he's doing on his phone. The two of them pay him about as much attention.

"For?" Law prompts, a sinking feeling settling into his stomach. Strawhat just laughs off his worries and begins perusing the aisles.

Law rubs his temples. He considers buying some aspirin or something, and after seeing Strawhat pick up as many packages of dried meat that he can hold - including in his mouth - he decides to buy two pill bottles, and a cold coffee.

As he's paying, Strawhat arrives with his hoard of dried meat and dumps them on the counter. Law sighs, but is about to hand over his card once again when several packages of sweet buns are added on top. He grimaces at the offending food.

"Absolutely not!" He instructs, gripping his bargaining chip tightly. Strawhat pouts but obediently removes the offensive foodstuffs, placing them back on the shelves, though perhaps a bit haphazardly.

In their place, several candy bars and sweets are brought over. Law can already feel himself regretting this, but he buys all of the items anyway. He downs three painkillers with some coffee and follows them with some of the offered dried meat. It's tough, but Law powers through it anyway. With their snacks procured, they head back outside.

The outside air nips at their noses, and the two watch as the very first snow of the year begins to fall, each snowflake melting before it can even touch the ground.

"Snow! It’s snowing!” Strawhat exclaims, momentarily abandoning his food to dance in the light flurry. He doesn’t stay away long.

"The weather is so tricky! It sneaks up on you, suddenly changing from warm to freezing!" Law decides not to comment on the fact that the temperature has been slowly dropping since they left the train station.

"Yeah."

He shakes his head and leans back, looking up at the stars littering the sky. The moon shines bright, bathing the scene in a soft white glow, even through the glare of the streetlamp. His breath fogs in front of him, momentarily obscuring his vision each time he breathes out. Strawhat munches on his snacks next to him, occasionally talking about whatever crosses his mind. Currently, he's describing some trouble he got into with his older brothers some time ago, though Law's taking it with a grain of salt. Can three people really get into that much 'accidental' trouble? Somehow, Law isn’t sure he is being told the entire story.

It hits him, as he laughs gently as Strawhat gestures wildly and smacks Law in the face, that he's growing less and less annoyed by the strange guy, and a bit more fond of him. Like finding a lost puppy that won't leave you alone. Strawhat shivers again.

“Cold?” he finds himself asking, despite the fact that it’s obvious. Strawhat just laughs.

They're almost entirely through the purchased snacks when headlights split the darkness and Strawhat jumps up, creating a mess of empty packages. Law stands as well, cleaning up he watches Strawhat jump around, waving wildly and occasionally picking up dropped packets of meat. He's still eating them, too. Law briefly wonders if Strawhat’s going to end up choking.

It's only a moment later when the vehicle arrives, a small beat up car that doesn’t look or sound entirely operational. The driver rolls the window down, looking highly annoyed.

"Well, brat. I'm here," they grunt, sounding the opposite of pleased. Law understands. Strawhat looks undeterred, as usual.

"Dadan! Thanks! We need to get to Pink Hazards by morning!" Strawhat opens the door and climbs in, pulling Law in after him. Nobody bothers to correct the mistake.

"C'mon, hurry! We can't be late! It's super important!" He urges, pulling half his body into the front seat for emphasis. "Yeah, yeah, I get it, brat. Sit the fuck down, wontcha, and we'll get goin'!" Dadan snaps, but Strawhat just laughs as he sits back.

"'Kay, 'kay!" He squishes himself against Law, looking very pleased. Law kicks him to the opposite side of the back seat.

"Don’t you have any sense of personal space?" Law grumbles. His question is ignored by Strawhat, but their new driver, Dadan, gives him a slight look of pity through the rear view mirror.

"Hey, hey, do you like gummy worms? They're the best! They're sour, and sweet, and they're the best! Well, except for meat. Meat's the best. Then sour gummy worms! Oh, right, they have to be sour. Otherwise they're not sour and sweet, they're just sweet, and those aren't as good. You want some?" Strawhat asks, though Law isn't sure why because he doesn't wait for an actual response before shoving sour gummy worms into Law's face.

"Try them! They're yummy!" Law backs as far away from the sweet as he physically can. He does actually like sour gummy worms, but having them force fed to him is not what he would call a pleasant experience.

"Would you-" he starts, but Strawhat is already trying to feed him a different candy. Licorice, from the looks of it.

"No thanks," he tries, shying away from more sugar. Thankfully, that actually seems to work. With a shrug, the stranger shoves the licorice into his own mouth.

For a blissful moment, Strawhat is completely distracted by the candy, the music, and the snow that’s starting to fall a tad heavier. Law takes a breather, his gaze returning to the passing scenery. Away from the bright city and it’s light pollution, the stars shine bright. The moon lights the path before them, illuminating the nearby trees, lulling Law's thoughts away from the present.

He remembers car rides like this from long ago, his sister curled up in the seat next to him, his parents talking softly in the front seat. Law and his sister would pass the time telling stories about the moon and the stars, like making up their own mythology. Her favorite nights were the ones where the moon shined the brightest.

When Law's attention returns to the present, he realizes it’s because he can feel someone watching him. He turns to see Strawhat studying him, his head tilted slightly.

"Why the fuck are you so weird?" Law comments out, squinting across the seat at him. Strawhat shrugs, still munching on sweets.

"Whatcha thinkin' 'bout?" he asks, mouth still full of candy. That was disgusting. Law suppresses a shudder, turning away from the sight.

"None of your business," he retorts, turning back to the trees. At least the trees don’t care about what’s on his mind.

"Aww, c’mon. Tell me,” Strawhat whines, shifting closer. Law finds himself flinching and mentally curses.

"What’s it gonna take to get you to leave me alone?" he bargains.

Strawhat thinks for a moment, before his eyes light up.

“Tell me a story! A good one!” he demands.

How ironic that just a moment ago, he was thinking of a time his sister said the exact same thing. She’d stared up at him with her dark eyes, pleading for him to tell the same story he always tells whenever they have a long car ride during a full moon.

“I don’t know any,” Law replies, shrugging. Next to him, Strawhat pouts, but he ignores it.

In a shining example of juvenile behavior, Strawhat makes a big deal out of ignoring Law back, while still occasionally looking over to glare at him, then returning to his sulking. It’s almost humorous, it’s so superfluous. They drive in this forced tension for a while, the only sounds coming softly from the radio.

"We're here," Dadan says suddenly as they exit the trees and pull into what looks like an abandoned airport. The snow is cold enough to stick, at least for a moment, giving the giant landing pad a glistening sheen. Strawhat clambers out, shouting his thanks to Dadan and grinning at the insult he receives. Law follows, also giving a light thanks, and receiving a much warmer reply.

Dadan drives off and once again the two are left in the cold. Next to him, Strawhat continues to act petulant as he stubbornly keeps his back to Law.

After nearly ten minutes of relentless moping, during which Law watches Strawhat jump around to keep warm while still adamantly ignoring him, make snow angels while occasionally glaring at him, even play a one-man game of tic-tac-toe while grumbling about promises and hopes, he decides telling one story would be better than dealing with this insufferable annoyance.

“If I tell a story, will you stop?” Law yields, and isn’t surprised when Strawhat immediately runs towards him.

He sighs, regretting this already, and takes a seat on a cold tree stump. Strawhat plops down onto the ground, despite the snow. He’s soaked from snow angels and shivering already.

Perhaps it’s the nostalgia, or perhaps it’s working with so many ill children for so long, but Law finds himself pulling of his coat and dumping it on top of Strawhat’s head.

"Thanks! But won't you get cold?" Strawhat asks as he pulls the jacket on. Law shrugs.

"I'm wearing more layers than you," he points out, referring to the hoodie he wears as a shirt and his longer pants. Strawhat accepts the excuse easily.

"Thanks!" He says again, to which Law just nods. Staring up at the full moon, Law's pulled back to his previous reminiscence.

"A long time ago, when we used to go on road trips with our parents, my sister and I would make up stories about the moon.This one was her favorite.” He pauses, the wind whipping around the few strands of hair not tucked into his hat.

“There once was a knight that prayed every night to the moon, and the moon heard those prayers and fell in love. She transformed into a human to be with her love, but they were torn apart by the customs and laws of the land. So she learned the rules and the laws, and she became a princess, all for love. Yet it still wasn’t enough. Her love needed more, asked for more, demanded more, until the two of them were on top of the world. Seeing what her love had become, she knew that she could not stay. She returned when the moon was at its fullest, and from above she watched her love die.

During the full moon, when the moonlight is at its strongest, she still cries, and her tears will fall to earth as the first snow of the year." Law looks down to see Strawhat staring at him intently. He turns away.

"Never understood why that one was her favorite," Law shrugs, his reminiscing done for the night.

Before the conversation can move forward, a distant roar draws their attention, and a moment later a helicopter flies into view. As the volume becomes deafening, Law covers his ears, taking cover from the strong wind behind the nearby trees. The helicopter lands and a red haired man steps off with a wide grin. In his right hand are two headsets, which he hands to the two of them, then beckons them into the helicopter. He doesn't attempt to say anything, which Law finds reasonable considering he doubts they'd be able to hear it anyway.

They board the helicopter and don their headsets. The pilot greets them with a simple acknowledgement, and the moment they're strapped in he takes off. It's the red haired man that does most of the talking. Law recognized him as soon as he stepped out of the helicopter, but he hadn't believed himself. Hearing the guy talk, however, there's no doubt this is the millionaire and CEO of RedForce, one of the biggest companies in the world.

Strawhat and Shanks chat over the comms while Law tries to figure out who the person sitting next to him is, if he knows RedForce Shanks. At some point they try for introductions, but with Law not paying any attention to their conversation, they decide to skip those for now.

"You're lucky we happened to be free, brat! It's not easy being the CEO of a major corporation, you know?" Shanks is saying when Law finally tunes in. He hears Strawhat laugh, as carefree as always. After a moment, Shanks joins as well, much to the pilot's - whom Law recognizes as Benn Beckman, Shank's right hand guy - annoyance.

"You really should be doing paperwork, Red," Ben chides, but there's no heat behind it. It sounds like an old argument.

Shanks doesn't respond.

"We'll be there shortly. It's a pretty quick ride from that place to the hospital. It's the only place we'll be able to land anyway, so it's convenient that's where you wanna go. Why do you wanna go there? If it's a medical emergency, you shoulda called the police."

"He's a doctor!" Strawhat explains, and then doesn't elaborate. Shanks seems used to his lack of details, or doesn't need the details, because he makes an "aaah" sound and the conversation shifts.

"Your trouble making brothers still kickin'?" Shanks asks, inviting Strawhat to begin more recent tales of the trouble they've gotten into. Law half listens, though his thoughts start to wander away from their conversation again. Just who is this kid that he knows the CEO and founder of RedForce well enough to arrange for a helicopter? As far as Law can remember, Shanks doesn’t have any children, and he certainly hasn’t named an heir.

Also, when exactly did Strawhat call these people? And how? Law hasn't seen him pull out a cell phone or stop by a pay phone or do anything to contact them. Did he use telepathy?

Realizing how ridiculous he sounds, Law forces his thoughts to return back to the realm of possible. Sure, some weird things have happened tonight, but so far it's all been a collection of oddities surrounding one highly odd young man, and nothing that defies logic.

Benn's voice suddenly interrupts Law's thought process.

"We'll be landing shortly. Please be sure that your seat belt is properly fastened and all limbs and extremities are within the helicopter at all times. Please remain seated until I call that it is safe to exit."

After checking his seat belt, Law watches the hospital landing pad grow larger as they approach. He's ridden in many helicopters before, usually with a patient though occasionally on his own, so he's used to the procedure that follows. The moment that they're cleared, Law jumps down, turning to face the helicopter once he’s gotten a safer distance away. Strawhat grins back at him from the seat inside, but doesn’t move. He yells something, but Law can’t hear him.

“WHAT?!”

“WHAT’S YOUR NAME!” Strawhat yells a bit louder, and Law just barely catches the words.

“TRAFALGAR! TRAFALGAR D. LAW!” Law yells back as loudly as he can. The blades of the helicopter begin to pick up speed once again.

“WHAT ABOUT YOU?” he screams.

Strawhat yells something back, but it’s lost to the wind. He’ll never know the name of the mysterious stranger that dragged him along for a wild adventure. The helicopter takes off, Strawhat waving goodbye. Suddenly, Law realizes that his coat is also being carried away, probably never to be seen again.

Well, perhaps the adventure was worth one coat, even if it was his favorite.

@therealblackpearl, Merry Christmas! I’m so sorry this is a bit late, but it’s here! I hope you enjoyed a bit of LawLu fluff, and if I ever write the epilogue, I will tag you as well.

@onepiecesecretsanta2018

#opsecretsanta #onepiecesecretsanta2018 #therealblackpearl #i am so so so sorry this is technically late #i really wanted it to be something quality #but merry christmas! #i hope you enjoy some dumb lawlu #lawlu #op #modern!au #my writes #mystery knight #fluff #adventure

[cassnovawrites]

Instead of doing work that will get her paid, Cassie does prompt work.

First Sentence: Michael sat down in the middle of the road and began to cry. Non Sequiter: On Tuesday, she asked him the most peculiar question. Last Straw: the bill she forgot to pay Sixth Sense Cards: lime green deck chairs, pink fuzzy lint, smelly microwave

Michael sat down in the middle of the road and began to cry. His breath was short and felt like solid balls of ice blocking his airways. The snot poured out of his nose like a faucet, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t care. Michael dragged his forearm under his nose, a snail trail soaking his sleeve.

The sun beat down on the back of his bare neck. He could feel it burning. It might as well burn. He might as well lay his entire body across the road and let the desert sun crisp him up. Traci wouldn’t care. If she would, she wouldn’t have driven off without him. Michael could make out the tiny car through the dust clouds and the waves of heat rising from the asphalt.

On Tuesday, she asked him the most peculiar question. How would he feel if the two of them just dropped everything and drove to Death Valley. Why? Well why not? They were young and bored, and she had a full tank of gas. It would maybe take a little more than a week. Three days to get there, two to explore, and three more to get home. They’d take turns driving, and Michael could bring his brother’s tent so they didn’t have to spend money on hotels. Michael agreed. But now he was stranded and had no way home.

How did he get here? Sure, they argued about how and when to stop, where to eat. Don’t stop there for gas---it’s run down and it’s dark and that gentleman doesn’t look friendly. Of course I’d protect you, but I’d rather just avoid that spot entirely. The map says there’s another one about ten miles up the road. But we have a quarter tank of gas. That’s more than enough to drive ten miles!

Michael felt someone tap him on the shoulder. He rubbed his shielded his eyes from the sun and strained his neck. It was the waitress from the restaurant.

“Here’s the bill she forgot to pay.” There were air quotes around “forgot.”

Michael let out a laugh. Of course she skipped out on the bill. She left him in the middle of nowhere at this rundown saloon-looking place with no other sign of civilization and no lifeline to get home.

“Kid?”

Michael looked up again. The waitress had her hands on her hips and started to look impatient. “I don’t have time for this.”

He dug into his pockets, realized he’d left his wallet on the passenger seat of Traci’s car, and flipped them inside out. “I got nothing.”

The waitress sighed, then pulled him by the collar. “Stand up. Ya look pathetic. Now git inside and wash yer face off.”

“What about the bill?” he asked trying to brush the dirt off his legs.

“I dunno what we’re gonna do bout that just yet. Just git yourself cleaned up.”

Michael shuffled himself out of the street, the waitress not too far behind him. The front of the restaurant was lined by lime green deck chairs leftover from maybe the 70s, all zip-tied together to prevent theft. Though who would come all the way to the middle of nowhere to steal these chairs from a desert restaurant was beyond him.

The cool water from the sink felt good against his sun-crisped skin. Michael grabbed a paper towel, wet it, then wiped the dried tears and snot off his face. He looked at his reflection. Here was this young man sunburnt and stranded with distress in his eyes looking back at him. He began disassociating, his eyes fixating on a piece of pink fuzzy lint sitting on his shoulder. He knew with certainty it was from Traci’s blanket. She insisted on bringing it. It got cold in the desert at night. They’d want it. And if not, they could use it as extra cushion in the tent.

“Kid,” the bathroom door creaked open. “I found for ya to pay off that bill of yours.”

Michael slunk his way out of the bathroom and followed the waitress into the kitchen. The floor looked like it was supposed to be white, but there was a grey film over it. And the chrome countertops and appliances had grease streaks covering them. A soapy bucket sat on top of one of the counters, and a greying dishrag floated to the top.

“I need ya to clean that there microwave,” the waitress began. “It was chili night a few days ago. There’s gonna be some scrubbin involved.”

Michael grabbed the handle of the bucket with both hands and walked to the microwave. He opened it up and gagged as the smell of three-day old, crusted-on chili burnt off his nose hairs. Fuck Traci.

[bubblegum-switch]

Kitziwch – Human Things

Anonymous asked: i've got a request! I honestly just want something with lance getting reCt tbh, so uh. They're in the castle and so, allura and coran are like "lmao whats ticklign" and they want someone to demonstrate it, so they chose keith and lance to do it, first lance is all like scared n, stuff but then keef breaks the awkwardness and just pouncess on lance and coran is there just taking notes with allura And when they're done pidge says something like lmao good blackmail material and they're both SHOOK

Ask and you shall receive, friend :) I hope I did it justice

Title: Kitziwch – Human Things (b/c I can’t title for shit)

Word count: app. 3.6k (Side note: holy shit that’s longer than I anticipated)

Rating: it gets a b i t suggestive at one point but nothing more than like PG-13

Time: Before the end of season 2 I guess maybe, Shiro doesn’t have his Bayard so…

Characters: The main 7 (Keith, Hunk, Lance, Pidge, Shiro, Allura, Coran)

Pairing: pre-Klance

Genre: so fluffy it gave me cavities

Themes: Ticklish!Lance, Pining!Keith, ticklish!Keith, brief ticklish!Shiro to kick off the plot, this scenario is such an oldie but a goodie and I feel honored to write it, f u c k I’m so weak for Lance getting reKt you have no idea, I don’t know what “““correct form””” is but I needed a good opportunity so I could be very wrong but fuck that I don’t really care, it takes like over 1k words to get to the meat of the story I’m so sorry but I needed enough exposition for this prompt, I love using personal experience for help with writing haha…, am I minorly projecting my synesthesia onto fictional characters now is that what is happening, I’m writing this whole thing while over-tired over the course of several late-nights at like 11pm-4am and I think it shows, Ernest Hemingway Mr. Write-Drunk-Edit-Sober would be proud but then again what is editing, my tired ass decided to just fuckin give Lance a special kind of love for it which is why it gets suggestive *winks with both eyes*, fuck I need sleep, I did a surprising amount of research for the title, don’t ask me why Keith is so skilled he just is, Lance is literally a ball of ticklishness help him it’s adorable, I had so many options for endings  I hope I did this one right, there will likely be a part 2 b/c of another prompt I got that this can lead into so…

A/N: Ok so “Kitziwch” [kind of pronounced kitzee-ucx I think] is a word I created to be the Altean word for “tickle” out of the German word “kitzeln” and the Welsh word “Ticiwch” because of reasons you’ll find out at the end of this

---

At the training deck, Allura was trying to get a better feel for each of the paladin’s combat strengths and weaknesses. She was going to have each one go up and complete a relay of sorts – which was made of an opaque maze (unlike the electrified invisible one), fighting several types of drone-bots, and testing the accuracy of their Bayard. Coran was watching as well, taking notes on each round.

Pidge was up first, and she made it through the maze quickly, but lost time at the flying drones and accuracy due to the short range of her Bayard.

Then it was Lance’s turn. He didn’t get through the maze as fast as Pidge, but more than made up for it with accuracy.

Hunk was about in the middle so far for the maze time-wise, but was able to quickly obliterate the drones. However, his Bayard was not as precise as Pidge’s or Lance’s due to its comparably wide damage-field.

Keith practically danced through the maze, even though he got hung up a few times. He slashed through the drones and had a near-perfect score on accuracy.

Shiro was last to go, and after getting through the maze and the drones he was getting ready for testing the accuracy of his arm.

“Hold it!” Allura rushed to him. “I can’t ignore you Earthlings’ improper form any longer. I have held my tongue but I’ve had enough.”

“Aw, why didn’t you tell us? I would’ve fixed it,” Lance said from the sidelines.

Allura smiled apologetically. “You were all on a roll. I didn’t want to interrupt you, but I just can’t let this finish uncorrected.”

Shiro relaxed his stance. “Sure, Princess how do I stand?”

“Alright Shiro, hold your back in a straight line – don’t hunch over,” she said casually, circling him as he followed her directions. “Hm, good. Now, keep some bounce in your knees – you look too stiff, and if you can’t move freely you can’t evade.”

“Okay,” he replied, trying his best to follow suit. “Am I doing it right?”

She paused behind him. “Here, let me help you angle yourself a bit better.”

She reached forward and put her hands on his sides to adjust him. He jumped a little, but Allura credited it as surprise and shrugged it off. She tilted him to the left a little bit to balance himself, pressing her fingers into his ribs accidentally, and he involuntarily snorted out a surprised laugh.

This time, she quickly retracted her hands. “Everything alright, Shiro? Are you hurt?”

He rolled his eyes good-naturedly and smiled at her. “I’m fine, don’t worry, it didn’t hurt.”

She looked at him quizzically and tilted her head. “Then why did you make that noise? That was a laugh, right?”

“I guess I’m a little ticklish, that’s all,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “That shouldn’t get in your way again, I just didn’t expect it… Allura?”

She looked like she was deep in thought, trying to remember something that was forgotten a while ago. She looked to Coran, who looked back at her, just as confused. “Do you know what he’s talking about, Coran?”

“No, I’ve never heard of that before either. I don’t know what he means.” He turned to the other four paladins. “Can any of you translate? Altean often overlaps with your language, but there’s no word for that.”

“I can try to explain,” Pidge volunteered. “Basically, someone is ticklish, you can tickle someone, and that someone gets tickled. Linguistics aside,” she adjusted her glasses, “basically it’s when someone is touched in a way that makes them laugh. Some people like being tickled, some people hate it, and there are people that are more ticklish than others.” Pidge smirked, “for example, I’m not that ticklish. Shiro, on the other hand… well you’ve seen that he is.”

“Thank you, Pidge,” Allura said, still confused. “I think that helped, but I still don’t really understand it. How can touching someone make them laugh? And can everyone do this?”

“I agree, I’m still confused as well,” Coran piped up. “Can we have a demonstration? I think that might clear it up.”

“Oh yes, I think that would be great, Coran!” Allura agreed. “But how do we get someone to demonstrate it?”

“Well, if you want two people to show you what it is, I recommend some people who you want to see laughing, or to get revenge on. Tickling can be a great form of revenge, sometimes. It can also be a good bonding experience.”

“Alright, Pidge, then I think it should be…” she thought for a moment.

Lance’s eyes were wide, and he was trying to act like he wasn’t affected by this when every iteration of the word made him want to crawl out of his skin. He noticed Keith hiding his face behind his hair a little more than normal. Hunk, however, was completely fine through the whole conversation so far – not even blushing (like Shiro was, oh boy his face was pink).

“Lance and Keith.”

“What?” Lance shrieked, and then cringed at how terrified he sounded. Keith turned his head away so no one could see the grin that was beginning to invade his face, as well as the blush that sat upon his skin.

“Well, I think you two have some differences you need to work out, and Pidge said that tickling can be used as a bonding experience. Plus, Keith never laughs, and maybe I’m considering this revenge for you constantly flirting with me, Lance,” she said brightly, laughing at the end and showing she wasn’t actually upset.

“Yes, I think they would make a good match-up for this ‘tickling’ thing,” Coran agreed. “I can take notes on this to better understand it.”

Allura walked over to where the red and blue paladins were inching away towards the door. “Come on you two,” she chirped, grabbing their wrists and pulling them into the center of the room. She stood them face to face – or as good as she could get them since neither one would meet the other’s eyes – and she retreated back to where she previously stood next to Coran. “Alright… now start… tickling each other?” She glanced at Pidge to see if she had used the word correctly, and was given a thumbs-up in return. She smiled satisfactorily, and waited.

Lance shifted uncomfortably where he stood. Neither paladin moved or looked at the others.

“Why aren’t they doing anything, Number Five?” Coran whispered to Pidge, pen poised above his notepad.

“They must be shy about this, but don’t worry. Maybe they need incentive to get started.” She smirked, before shouting “if neither one of you starts tickling then someone else will tickle both of you!”

She grinned broader when she saw their faces turn redder and Lance nearly squeaked at the threat as Keith huffed through his nose.

Allura whispered to Pidge that she had an idea. “Keith, Lance was complaining about your mullet again yesterday!” she yelled to them in a sing-song.

Keith’s eyes snapped to Lance’s in an instant, biting back a grin. Thank you, Allura, for giving me an opening. “Again with the mullet?” He started inching towards the blue paladin. “When are you gonna let it go?”

Lance began protesting as he inched backwards, hands raised in defense. “No no no she’s lying Keith, I didn’t insult your mullet yesterday… to her anyway!”

“Oh, so you did?” he cracked his knuckles, and Lance squeaked.

“W-well,” Lance’s voice was unnaturally high. He gulped and steeled himself, stopping in place. “It is pretty terrible…”

That was the final straw. Keith yelled “enough with my hair!” and pounced onto Lance, knocking him to the ground.

Keith lay on top of Lance for a moment, blinking down at him and realizing Lance could’ve gotten hurt from that.

“Did that hurt you?” he asked quietly.

Lance fought back a smile, “no.”

Keith’s face finally split into that large grin – one of the first Lance had ever seen on him. “Good, because then this definitely won’t.”

The blue paladin’s eyes grew wide and his face grew pinker as Keith’s words fell from his lips. He didn’t have time to dwell on it much, however, as soon all thoughts were abandoned as he felt hands on his hips and two thumbs brushing over the skin. His breath hitched in his throat as he bit his lip and began to smile.

The pressure from the two digits increased, and he began squirming and laughing in little breathy huffs. “K-Keith come hahahon buhuddy…”

“So you remember me being your ‘buddy’ but not our bonding moment?” he teased, changing to squeezing Lance’s hips causing sharp, shrill laughs and him to buck up and down.

Lance felt what seemed like electricity shoot through his body, and his mind went blank. “NOHOHO KEIHEEHEETH,” he pleaded through laughter.

“If you say so, I’ll stop with your hips…” the red paladin near-growled (which made the boy underneath him blush even harder), and, in keeping with his word, shot his hands to Lance’s stomach. In desperation as his laughter reached a fever pitch, he reached to grab Keith’s hands. Keith was having none of it, grabbed them, and pinned them above his head. Keith held them with just one of his own hands, putting enough weight on them both to not hurt them but keep them in place. He tsked down at Lance before returning one hand to his stomach and scrabbling his fingers wildly, causing the blue paladin to dissolve into hysterics.

Lance couldn’t even protest anymore, for a few reasons (one of which he’d explain to Keith later, much to both of their delights), but mostly because he couldn’t physically form words with Keith’s hands there. However, it became even worse(?) for Lance when the red paladin decided to take it up a notch and stick his hand underneath his shirt to tickle Lance’s bare skin.

Lance’s vision erupted into brightness as his laughter turned silent from the fast, firm fingers digging gently into his stomach.

Keith’s face dusted pinker as he marveled at how soft Lance’s skin was, before realizing that Lance probably needed more air than he was currently getting. He let him laugh silently for a few more moments before letting up.

Lance panted, catching his breath and smiling largely. His relief was short-lived, however, as Keith’s hand crawled up his side, on top of his shirt once again. Lance was back to squirming as he felt his fingers walk slowly up his waist, and ribs, and then finding their target in his left underarm. Lance shrieked as Keith’s fingers danced in the hollow, and skated around the edge.

“KEIHIHTH COHOHOME OHOHON YOU’RE MEHEHEAN”

The red paladin laughed. “You think that’s mean, I’ll show you mean.” Keith let go of Lance’s hands, which instantly shot to grab him again. Keith stopped tickling for a moment to take one wrist in each hand. He maneuvered them under Lance’s back so his own weight was holding them down, allowing Keith to use both hands. He pressed his knees on either side of the blue paladin to keep him in place, and sat on his hips. Keith reached behind him and squeezed Lance’s knees, extracting deep belly laughter and causing his legs to flail around to their maximum allowance.

Keith inched his hands up to Lance’s thighs, and alternated randomly between squeezing and fully tickling and lightly tracing them. Lance dissolved into uncontrollable giggles at the latter two techniques, and let out yelps interspersed with short, barking laughs when he dug his fingers in. The layer of denim was no match for Keith’s teasing touches.

Keith’s fingers drifted from the top of Lance’s thighs to his inner thighs, but due to the quick change in his laughter Keith moved back to save him any embarrassment. Well, any more embarrassment. Keith didn’t fail to notice the… *ahem* lengthening of the individual laughs and how they seemed to become more throaty and less… less like laughs and more like something that under other circumstances he would be thrilled to hear.

Lance didn’t notice.

Keith hoped none of the others did, and he filed it away in his mind for later. He figured it was probably best to move his hands somewhere else.

He brought his hands to Lance’s sides, spidering from his waist to the middle of his ribs as best he could. Lance’s belly laughter returned, but he wouldn’t look at Keith – he kept turning his face away to try to hide – which the red paladin thought was adorable.

“MEHEHEAN”

Keith laughed along with him. “Alright, I think I can live with that,” he smiled down at him. He wanted to kiss Lance’s blushing cheeks, and he almost did before remembering the other 5 in the room.

He felt Lance’s ribs under his fingertips, and he dug into them a little more, making sure to press in-between the bones. He used both hands to play Lance like a twin piano with keys to the left and right. The blue paladin’s laughter became shrill at his upper ribs, and Keith was a little resentful that he couldn’t really get at Lance’s underarms while he was in this position.

Although, there was a place Keith wanted to try. He moved his hands slowly to Lance’s neck, dragging his fingertips gently the whole way. He began wiggling his digits against the soft skin there, causing Lance to scrunch up and start giggling. He tickled the right side of his neck, and watched Lance try to trap his hand between his head and shoulder. He tickled the left, and Lance did the same. When he tickled both sides of his neck, however, Lance tried to pull his head into his body like a turtle and wrenched his eyes shut.

Keith laughed again. He didn’t think Lance would’ve been able to be taken down by a few light touches on his neck (or his thighs, but that was another matter).

He didn’t want to keep at his neck too long, since that was a dangerous place to linger for a few reasons, but he didn’t want to be done quite yet. He decided to give his neck a break, and figured that it was a gamble for the next spot. Either it wouldn’t be ticklish and he’d have to move fast, or Lance would be even more adorable just by default.

Keith brought his hands to Lance’s ears and lightly brushed his fingers on their undersides on the thin skin and around the outside ridge of each one.

He played his cards right.

Lance’s giggles became effervescent as he scrunched up his face and turned his head from side to side as Keith’s heart melted.

“Nope, you can’t escape it now,” Keith teased quietly.

“Kehehehihith cohohome ohohohon…” Lance whined, but not for him to stop. He just… he couldn’t handle being teased.

Keith stayed tickling his ears for a few moments, before deciding that there wasn’t enough of a canvas to work with. He withdrew his hands, trying to figure out where to strike next. Hm.

“Do you think he’s done?” Keith heard Coran whisper to Hunk.

“He shouldn’t be, he’s forgetting a couple key spots,” he said back.

Keith grinned. Right. He slid off of Lance, who didn’t move right away.

All he did was ask, “are you done?” But not even in a tone conveying annoyance, just simply a question posed as if asking the time.

“Not yet, turn over,” Keith told him, and Lance froze, blush returning to his face.

“Come on, Lance!” Hunk encouraged.

“Yeah, it’s for science!” Pidge supported.

“And inter-cultural studies!” Allura chimed in.

“I’m writing as fast as I can!” Coran yelled in a hurry, apparently marking down everything that occurred.

“Come on, Lance, do it!” even Shiro was getting in on it.

Keith smiled down at him. “Come on, either you turn over or I go back to your stomach…” he raised a claw-shaped hand over him.

Lance groaned and flipped himself over, but Keith caught the smile on his face too. Lance was even biting his lip to keep from grinning more.

Keith sat on Lance’s thighs, facing his feet. He grabbed one of Lance’s legs and pulled his foot back towards him, eventually grabbing onto his left ankle. He pulled off Lance’s sneaker, and held it tighter before descending five wiggling fingers onto his upturned sole.

Lance erupted into laughter the instant Keith made contact.

“AHAHAHA KEHEHEHIHIHITH WHAHAHA—COHOHOME OHOHON”

The red paladin shook his head, chuckling and smiling fondly. He spidered his fingers along Lance’s arch, sliding farther down his legs so he could put more weight on Lance’s calves so he wouldn’t need to hold onto his ankle.

Lance felt fingers dancing as close to the base of his toes as they could get with how tightly they were curled. He shrieked with laughter as he tried to kick his foot out of Keith’s grasp, but it was held tight.

Keith smiled, and laid his leg over Lance’s spare one, holding it down with his weight. He leaned forward, and with the hand that was tickling his foot Keith pulled his toes back and held it in place. He was practically sitting on the back of his knees as he took his now free hand and tickled his stretched-out sole.

Lance continued his high-pitched laughter as he began clawing at the cool tile of the floor. Keith scratched along his cotton-covered arches, and Lance went limp with loud giggles bubbling out of his mouth as if he was a popped bottle of champagne.

Keith could’ve tickled him there forever, if only just to hear him laugh like that until the end of time.

He moved his nimble fingers to his heels and brushed around the edge, and Lance’s laughter became fuller again as he shot up, propped up on his elbows, eyes wrenched shut and face flushed.

Keith snickered at the instant reaction, and he was amazed that Lance hadn’t even said the word “stop” at any point. Keith knew that they were about equal in strength, but Lance never made a move to push him off…

Keith’s thoughts were interrupted as he felt clumsy fingers at his sides. He fought back his own laughter as Lance tried to retaliate. He had managed to bring himself up far enough so he could reach Keith, but he could barely do so.

However, it was enough for Keith’s incredibly sensitive sides. He started losing focus from the light touches, and as he arched his back and removed his hands from Lance’s feet, beginning to laugh himself, the tables were turned. Lance was able to roll out from under him and tackled him, situating himself on top this time.

“Write that down, write that down!” Allura was lightly smacking Coran’s arm out of excitement.

“Is that legal?” Coran asked Pidge and Hunk.

Pidge smiled, “all is fair in love and tickling.”

Coran nodded seriously, and continued jotting it down in his notepad.

Lance smirked down at Keith, who was sprawled out on his back with Lance pinning down his legs with his own. He was panting heavily and his face was deeply colored red, but his eyes were bright and happy.

“You know…” the blue paladin began quietly, and Keith had the impression that the words were not meant for the others to hear. “I could get my revenge right here, right now.”

Keith would’ve been worried, if not for the fact that everything other than Lance’s voice was conveying pure joy.

“Or… we could run back to my room and I could tell you things that would probably be good for both of us.”

Keith nodded quickly. “Yes. Let’s go do that.”

The two jumped up and began running out of the room before they heard—

“Think that’s good blackmail Shiro?”

Lance and Keith froze, and looked back at Pidge with wide eyes.

“I wonder what I can use this for…” she pondered aloud with mock-innocence.

“You were recording that?” both paladins asked simultaneously in embarrassment.

She smirked. “Remember that the next time I ask for the cookie jar,” she laughed. “Because who knows… it might just get broadcast to an entire planet, then they’ll know that the great Blue Paladin of Voltron is incredibly ticklish.”

Lance began walking towards her. “You wouldn’t…”

“Oh, I think we both know I would, and that I’ve had enough of your discrimination against people under 66 inches tall,” she teased in a sing-song voice.

Lance cracked his knuckles, walking closer to her, who didn’t back down. “Keith? Wanna help me here?”

Keith grinned evilly, “it would be my pleasure.”

“Oh my gosh!” Allura cried out, smiling largely and stopping the two in their tracks. “I just remembered something, Coran!”

Her advisor looked at her as well. “Kitziwch, right?”

“Yes!” she smiled, and the paladins could see right through her act. “We do have a word in Altean for that, it’s ‘Kitziwch’.”

Lance and Keith blinked at each other.

“You know, Keith, I think she knew all along. I think she tricked us into this!” The blue paladin said with mock-surprise.

Keith fake-gasped in return. “I think you’re right! But what do we do about Pidge and her blackmail, and Allura?”

“I do not know, there’s only two of us…”

“But there’s also two of them…”

“Fair point, buddy, so what ever shall we do?”

Keith grinned. “I think we have one clear option.”

“Shall we attack to defend our honor?” Lance readied his stance.

Keith followed suit, “absolutely.”

#voltron tickling #klance #tickling #tickle fic #ticklish!lance #ticklish!keith #filled #lance mcclain #keith kogane #vld tickling #mine #jeezus there's so much tickling in this #a good thing abt not being able to say the word and not always being able to type it: #is that i have to get creative with my descriptions lmao

[ishouldprobablybewriting]

Nanowrimo Preview

Sooooo, I decided to attempt Nanowrimo. I’m total shit at it but.... eh. Whatever. Also the story is shit, but Imma put it on here anyways.

Cassandra and Karen decide to take their fall break to a cabin in the Apalachian mountains. Cassi finds an attractive man who wont speak to her (or rather he finds her), and an attractive man who will talk to her (and calls her “Cher”) and a cute little puppy with bright blue eyes. And that;s all before things get exciting. 

Basically, this is shitty self insert fanservice. With attractive paranormal people and lots of sex. So.... 

18 and over only please.

WC: 3412

“Karen’s Whore House. You got the dough, we got the hoe. How may I direct your call?”

It was 3:05 on the dot, November 16th. The high school bell had just rang and Cassandra was finally free. Well, for ten days at least. She was probably more excited about the short, Fall break than any of her students. And, of course, the first order of business was to call Karen, the bestie. A grin spread across her face at the teasing tone.

“Is Karen there? It’s a hoe-mergancy,” said Cassandra, playing along.

“This is the Madam speaking.”

“Oh! Perfect! I’m hoe-ping you can help me.”

Karen stifled a laugh at the pun. “We can handle all matters, small and big.”

“Wonderful. Because I need someone large, broad and tattooed. Oh! And maybe a nice beard? I’m gonna need something nice to ride.”

That was the last straw. They both busted out laughing. Cassi hit her turn signal and continued down the long country highway back into the city. Once the laughter died down, Cassi let out a small excited squeal. “When are we leaving?”

Karen groaned a bit as she rolled out of bed, a small thunk heard in the background as her feet hit the floor. “Uh, I was thinking we could get dinner, wait out some of the traffic then head up after dark. “

“Perfect. Just lemme get home and make sure I’ve got everything and then I’ll head that way.”

With music blaring in the small gray suv, time passed quickly. As Cassi pulled up to the residential school Karen lived and worked at, she shot a quick “Here bitch” text in lieu of honking the horn.  Karen opened the back passenger door and slid her bags into the seat and floorboard.

“I’m so fucking ready to be out of this place.”

“Same. But first- foods.”

Karen half moaned her agreement.

“Where?”

“Cock-Out?” Karen suggested.

“Eh. Taco Hell?”

“Not before a road trip.”

“Valid point,” Cassi nodded.

“Oh!” Karen perked up, plugging her phone charger into the carport, “How about Zaxby’s?”

Cassi grinned as she put her car into reverse. “Sounds good to me!” She pulled out and headed towards the restaurant while Karen put on their road trip playlist. The two had decided, since their typical “Friendsgiving” plans had fallen through with the rest of their friends away with familial obligations, that they would take a trip to the mountains about two hours north of their small city to spend their break drinking, eating and enjoying the cool weather. If they were lucky, maybe they'd be enjoying a man or two as well.

After getting fuel for both themselves and the car as well as a few drinks and snacks for the road. Two and a half hours later the two pulled into the tiny town that boasted a fair bit of tourism depending on the season. Most of which were romantic getaways, honeymoons and the like, occasionally a biker club or caravan would stop for the night on their way through.

They pulled over at the largest of the town’s- of Aberdeenvalle’s- three gas stations.  Cassi stretched letting out a long, low moan. “Uggghhhhhhhaaa. Oi.” She shook out her clothes and arched her feet a bit. Karen mimicked with her own stretch and groan combination, adding a small yawn.

“Alright. Should be just a few miles from the check in place but I’m not sure how far the actual cabin is. I know it’s past all the newer camping sites.”

Cassi nods at Karen, who planned the whole trip, and shivers a bit as a cool wind blows past them. The early evening got cold fast in the Appalachian Mountains and Cassi was still in a thin gray cotton t-shirt and cute cuffed jean shorts. Karen was much more ready for the temperature in a thick red wrap and dark wash jeans. They enter the small store laughing and karen heads towards the bathroom in the back corner. Cassi grabs another large bottle of water, a few packs of jerky and walks to the counter to pay for that and the gas. The young guy behind the register nodded to her giving a standard “Hello, how are you today?”

“Hello,” Cassi smiled “And 15 on three, please.” She placed her items on the counter. He began ringing them up. “Other than leaf watching and drinking, what is there to do around here?”

He looked up at her, “Ya’ll stayin’?”

“Yep! Whole week.”

“Hmmm....” he handed her her receipt, “Not much” he shrugged. “If ya like to walk, there's a park with a nice hiking trail. Just don’t stay too close to nightfall.”

Cassi scrunched her face up and tilted her head a bit at his strange and vague warning but thanked him nonetheless as Karen joined her grabbing the bag and heading back out to the car.

“What was that all about?” Karen asks.

“I dunno,” Cassi shrugged, “Asked about shit to do, got a ‘don’t go out alone at night’ instead.” She grinned at her friend, one side of her face lifting and showing her teeth, “I mean, what kind of woman does he take me for? How else am I supposed to have fun?” Karen laughed with her.

“Slut,” she shot at Cassi.

“I know.”

They climbed back up into the car and slowly drove the last 20 minutes deeper into the mountains and pulled up to a large two story, wooden cabin with a brightly lit front porch and a small wooden sign with “Merritt Cabins and Camping” carven into it. A worn layer of paint making the letters stand out. Parking and turning off the engine, the girls smile and quickly jog up the steps to check in. An older man greets them in the spacious lobby.

He smiled gently, “Welcome ladies!” His shoulders were once broad and thick but his body now shrunk due to age. He had graying hair, cropped close to his tan wrinkled skin, soft dark eyes and a slight hunch, leaning on the polished wood slab counter. He was wholly warm and welcoming. Cassi, for one, was glad. She wasn’t sure quite what to expect. She trusted Karen to plan everything and although she wasn’t expecting some eldritch demon or a pack of werewolves to be at the front desk, there never was any telling with Karen so a normal cabin and not some hidden mountain BDSM dungeon was a pleasant surprise.

Karen talks to him while Cassi looks around a bit, admiring the log architecture and the rustic wood-based decor. She turned back around in time to see him pull a small map from the display set and unfolded it on the desk. Cassi peered over it beside Karen. It was surprisingly modern looking. Well organized and clearly marked, it even had restaurants and places of interests from around town- including the mountain hiking trail. He flipped it over and pointed to a blue square. “This is us, here,” he explained. “Your cabin is this one up here,” he tapped a red square farther up the mountain, “Two bedrooms, two baths, great view, over 2000 ft above sea level. ‘S’even got a fireplace. You’ll love it.” he grinned at us. He gave them easy directions and even marked them on the map so they wouldn’t forget.

Cassi smiled, “Thank you, Mr. Merritt.” She folded up the map and they went back to the car. Rolling down the windows to enjoy the fresh evening air and following his directions they were given in the dark, they pull up to a beautiful redwood log cabin. It was smaller, two story built right onto the side of the the mountain giving a beautiful view of the south east forests below the furnished wrap around porch. She pulled up to the front door and parked on the gravel, grinning.

The cabin was comfortably decorated. Not flashy or overdone but casual and warm feeling. Large windows covered nearly every wall, the red, drawn back, floor-to-ceiling curtains causing the setting sun to illuminate the living room on the first floor and the open planned kitchen. Upstairs was another, smaller living space and a small hallway that split the two bedrooms, each with a- Cassi and Karen discovered- gorgeous bathroom attached. Cassi took the master since it had a massive garden tub and Karen wasn’t a “bath person”, unlike Cassi.

Seriously. It was huge. Cassi was never a small woman. She was more than enough for anyone to handle with broad shoulders, strong arms and legs, large breasts, a thick waist and wide, rounded hips and thighs. She was a generous size 20 and this tub could easily fit three of her. She squealed when she saw it, hands clenched at her chest. She nearly jumped for joy.

But first, she was going to unpack. “Hey, bitch!”

“What?”

“What's the plan?”

“Uh… Drink?” Karen peeped around the doorframe into the bathroom, “Woah.”

“Ch- Yeah!” Cassi grinned, “Thanks for lettin’ me have the masters, boo.”

“I’m so using that before we leave,” she said, pointing to the oversized bathtub.

Cassi let out a small laugh, mostly snort really, “We could both use that- at the same time.”

Karen nodded.

“Anyways! What's the plan for tonight?”

“Drinking- I just said that!”

“Okay, okay, let's get everything in, shower and then we drink the night away! Then we can go get breakfast after we wake from the dead,” Cassi laughed.

They did just that. If someone had seen how much liquor and mixers the two women brought into the kitchen, they surely would have thought it was for a party, or at least a large family of alcoholics.  Bottles of vodka, rum, tequila and wine, three handles of fireball and a small bottle of everclear. They reasoned that should be enough to last them the week.

They got a head start- three shots for Cassi and one for the lightweight Karen- then played a few rounds of High-low. Karen smashed Cassi in five rounds, Cassi won three of her own. Then they moved on to an adjusted game of bullshit. Before they could even finish the deck in bullshit, they were both rolling on the floor laughing loudly at nothing. By this time Cassi had stipped down to a sports bra and short sleeping shorts and Karen was in a tank top and lounge pants. Cassi tended to lose clothes as she drank.

Cassi also tended to wake up early and without a hangover after a night of heavy drinking. Karen- not so much.

So, while Karen stayed asleep, Cassi went out to get a breakfast at the little cafe, figuring she’d eat then pick up a few groceries.

Her tight jeans and oversized red and black plaid flannel over a cream colored tank top was warm enough in the cool mountain air. Her favorite black combat boots kept her feet warm and were comfy to walk around the small town in.

She sat down in the cafe's outside seating, the metal cool through her clothes but still a relaxing feeling. She ordered a small breakfast, just oatmeal and fruit, not being able to stomach large amounts of greasy food with her stomach still full of liquor from just a few hours prior. And coffee. lots and lots of coffee. She joked with the waiter, an older jovial man with a strong accent and far too many pins attached to his suspenders for them to be comfortable, to just leave the pot. Three cups of coffee- with two sugars and two creamers each- in, her breakfast is interrupted.  A far too large hand quietly places itself onto the black metal chair across from her. She takes inventory of the deep scarring across the knuckles and the protruding veins. And the size. It wouldn't be a stretch for that hand to cover her entire face. Her eyes dart up to the interruption face- skipping his arm and chest completely. Cassi is momentarily stunned. He had dark green eyes, long hair pulled back into a tight - black, maybe dark brown in color? It was hard to tell. His beard was thick and short but obviously well taken care of. His jaw was strong and angular and Cassi could just make out a few silvery scars along his high cheekbone on the left side of his face. ​This is unreal. Cassi though, Seriously. What romance novel is this jackass from?? "Can I help you?" she asked. He just stared at her, taking her in, eyes roaming over and over her generous, curved figure; over each roll and lump, each scar and mark visible, he found. Not judging, Cassi could tell, just looking. So she looked back. Well fit, dark gray Henley with long sleeves, and the top button undone. His arms well built and waist, though obviously muscled, thick set and leading into wide-set legs covered in loose jeans. Cassi's eyes darted back up to his face. His fuckin' attractive face. "Right." she said shortly, "Good talk. " She turned back to her food and the logic puzzle she was completing, effectively dismissing him by ignoring him.  She heard a low, gravelly grunt that sent suppressed shivers up her spine before the hand removed itself from the chair opposite her. She watched him swagger away out of the corner of her eye . "Well," she murmured to herself, "that was weird." She finished and stretched, the paid for her food at the counter inside with a sweet, "Thank you!" She walked up the road to the little corner grocery store. It was a quaint and cute town. Cassi decided she like it. It was warming seeing how the people here interacted. Everyone seemed to know everyone and everyone seemed to get along. It reminded her of home, of her childhood- or at least the positive parts of it. The grocery store was brightly lit and filled with fresh, local produce and meats. It was strange and more market than grocer. She picked up the basics- milk, bread, butter, rice, a few fruits and veggies. The last thing she picked up was meat, making sure to pick up bacon for Karen. It was enough to last them but not too much for her to carry, albeit it would be with a bit difficulty. Right as she walked out the store, a few kids sped by on skateboards. They got a little two close and nearly knocked her over, She caught herself but, unfortunately, still dropped her bag of produce "Shit." She bend down on one knee to start gathering up her groceries. A hand shot out to grab a run-away apple. One that wasn't hers. Deja vu. She looked up to see her apple's savior and found, yet another, overly attractive man. This one was thinner than the last. He had tattoos from the wrist of his outstretched hand all the way up to the sleeve stretched over his bicep. Still had a sharp jaw, though significantly less square, a five o'clock shadow, bright blue eyes and light pink lips stretched into a charming smile. "Here, cher," he offered, scooping up more of the scattered produce and placing them back into the bag. "Oh..." Cassi caught herself staring, mouth open slightly. She shook her head a bit and smiled back, "Thank you! So much." "Oh no pro'lem. My pleasure, really." He took another bag from her, easing her load and then motioned her ahead. Cassi smiled and accepted his silent offer to help her. "You've got a bit of an unusual accent, cher- for these parts, at least," he started, "Where you from?" At least this one speaks Cassi thought and laughed to herself softly. "South Carolina. Born and raised. Up here with a friend for a little vacation. What about you?" "Naw, I'm a transplant, ma' self. I found I liked it up here, s'rprisin'ly." Cassi smiled at him as they got to her car, she unlocked the doors and placed the bags she had in the back seat, grabbing the bags the stranger had from his hands as well.  "Well, lucky for me then. Thank you...?" "Lucien. Lucien Corbeau." "Thank you, Lucien." "And what should I call you?" Cassi hummed to herself, making a show of looking him up and down, noticing the tattoos wrapping around his right arm in detail. "I think I like 'cher'," she grinned, "But you can call me tonight, if you'd like." Cassi grinned as she grabbed his warm hand and pulled it to her exposing the broad expanse of skin on the soft underside of his right arm to her. She bit the cap of a purple pen and tugged then scrawled her number along his arm. His grin matched hers as she spun on her heels and got into her car. By the time she got all the groceries unloaded and made some bacon, Karen had finally risen from the dead. Cassi smirked at her friend and started the coffee pot. "Goooood morning, sunshine!" Cassi sang. Karen glared in response and snatched a piece of bacon, plopping into the carved wooden chair. "Know what'll make ya feel better?" A grunt. "A shot." "Fuck that. No ma'am," Cassi snickered at her friend, Karen glared harder in return before giving up and eating more bacon. Cassi poured two cups of coffee and set one down in front of Karen. Her phone rang out with a ding before she should sit down to finish her own coffee. Karen sent her a glance as she opened the text message. "Who's that from?" Cassi sent her a sly look and shrugged casually. "Oh just some guy." Karen snorted, "Slut." Cassi shrugged. "So, is it Josh or KC?" "Neither." Karen playfully gasped, "Oh you are a slut!" Cassi laughed. "He helped me with the groceries! I dropped them!"

The two busted out laughing. The girls calmed down and Karen crunched on more bacon.  Cassi smiled and unlocked her phone again, finally reading her message.

"Hello, cher"

Cassi tapped out her reply quickly.

"Aren't you eager, Mr Corbeau?"​

"How could I not be?"

Cassi hadn't expected a response so quickly. Hm.

She ​ tapped a finger on the table for a second, thinking of how to reply. She kind of liked the excited attention he was giving her.

"I'm not sure. I mean, if I could meet myself, I'd be pretty excited too! Lol" ​ No, that's not right. She erased it. "Who knows?"  Better.

"I hope you wouldn't think me too eager then, if I ask you to coffee tomorrow night?"

"Hmmm... No I don't supposed I would."

"In that case, How does coffee sound tomorrow, cher?"

"Well I suppose, but only because I love coffee." Cassi laughed to herself.

They set a time and place to meet the next night, all the while Lucien calling her "Cher". The ridiculous pet name made Cassi smile. And then gag at her own girly giddiness.

"Aye yo, bitch!" Cassi called from the couch where she had posted up to text with Lucien.

"What?" Karen responded from the kitchen, around her bottle of water.

"What do you want to do today?"

Karen shruged, "I am not doing shit till I get a shower."

"Don't blame you there." Cassi thought for  a second, "How about we check out that trail? It feels fuckin' amazing outside today."

Karen shot her a look, "Oh I'm sure it did feel fuckin' amazing."

"Bitch." Cassi laughed.

The trail was beautiful. The entire mountain was, honestly. Cassi had packed her small backpack with a few bottles of water, her well supplied first aid kit, some snacks and a few photography supplies. Her tightly laced boots were comfortable on her feet and let her explore all the terrain the mountain had to offer. She kept her compact digital camera around her neck in case she found something spectacular. She

The two girls laughed and enjoyed the fresh air around them. After an hour of leisurely walking and stopping every now and then to capture a wonderful, they reached the 2 mile marker on the trail. It was now nearly 3 in the afternoon and Karen was ready to head back and take a shower. Cassi wanted to press on deeper into the mountain and hopefully get a few more pictures. So they compromised.

They walked together back to the base of the trail and Karen continued to the cabin while Cassi turned around and took a different trail.

#My writing #original fiction #self service #self insert #eventual smut #eventual terotophillia #terotophillia #dont judge me #i just really love #big monsters give soft nuzzles #to tiny human s/o #nanowrimo #preview