#i still can’t get over ‘little eggplant’

[michi-chelle]

“the one piece live action covers up to the arlong park arc so you should be fine and won’t get spoiled”

me, who’s only on ep 90 of the anime, watching the live action: garp is who’s grandfather now?????

#i guess i forget that when opla more or less has free reign on how they want to tell this story #that includes when and how they introduce information even if it’s way earlier in the story than when it was presented in the anime #and i can only speak for the anime ‘cause i haven’t even touched the manga #like there were details that i was like wait i don’t remember that in the anime?? and now i’m wondering if it’s a opla-exclusive thing #that i know doesn’t happen in the anime #like kaya and usopp kissing (unless they do later on and i’m just a Clown) #or if it’s a thing i haven’t yet encountered in the anime #like how luffy got the scar under his eye #anyway lmao #i enjoyed opla a lot! #i still can’t get over ‘little eggplant’ #michi yaps

[zorobff]

little by little. (opla!sanji x fem!reader)

synopsis: a series of events that transpire throughout your time mentoring sanji into a proper waiter, per zeff’s request.

word count: 5.3k

warnings: cursing, smoking, some direct dialogue from opla, zoro wants u but he can’t have uuu, a pitiful attempt at enemies to lovers, this is the plate technique i was referencing btw

the slicing, stirring, and sizzling of the kitchen fades into background noise compared to the two thick accents bickering back and forth. to no one’s surprise, a disagreement between sanji and zeff’s has escalated into another one of their infamous arguments. it was such a common occurrence that almost everyone working at the baratie knew to brace themselves for a yelling match at least once day.

you’re no different as you return to the kitchen from waiting tables and walk right past the pair without so much as a glance their way. instead, you make a beeline for patty’s cooking station. unamused, you ask, “they’re back at it again?”

patty slings a towel over his shoulder as he hands you table 7’s orders. “i told sanji not to put that original dish of his on the menu. he called it a true bluefin whatever the hell.”

“sounds promising,” you joke, collecting the plates from him.

“tell that to zeff,” he replies flatly. “he might even make it tomorrow’s special.”

“dammit zeff!” sanji exclaims, interrupting you and patty’s conversation. “if i gotta sling one more prime rib medium-well, i’m going to drop dead of boredom, you old shitbag!”

“it’s what we serve,” retaliates the older chef.

“it’s an insult to the meat!”

“oh, you don’t like cooking our menu? fine. ‘cause i’ll be more than delighted to give you some other work elsewhere. in fact, you are off the line. you’re going to get out there and wait tables!”

sanji’s jaw clenches at having been demoted but he removes his chef apron regardless. as often as the two of them bickered, he could never refuse such direct orders from zeff. he was the owner and founder of baratie — that was something to be respected.

all of a sudden, zeff calls your name, causing you to abruptly set down the dishes in your hands. what did you have to do with any of this? the older chef beckons you closer with a curled finger and it seems as if every pair of eyes in the kitchen shifts to you. except for sanji’s, who is too busy staring up at the ceiling as if he’s begging a higher power for self-restraint.

it’s ironic how after putting so much effort into being the best waitress possible, you end up in the middle of confrontation – something you went out of your way to avoid. still, your body reacts faster than your brain and you comply, scurrying over to where zeff and sanji stand.

“from here on out, you keep a close eye on him for me.” zeff clasps a large hand on sanji’s shoulder with such force that it sends the younger jolting forward. “i don’t wanna catch him slithering his way back into the kitchen unless it’s to grab orders, ya got it?”

you blink. “yes, chef.”

your response earns you a tight-lipped smile, a rarely seen gesture from zeff. as suddenly as it appeared, it’s gone, replaced by a hardened gaze as he turns back to sanji. “if we’re lucky enough, some of your obedience might rub off on this little eggplant.”

the comment earns him an eye roll from the waiter in question, who seems less than thrilled with this new arrangement. “this is such bullshit, old man. you really think she can teach me anything?”

you go to defend yourself, slightly offended by his offhand comment. “hey, i—”

before you can get another word out, sanji interjects, offering you a glance. “no offense, i’m sure you’re lovely—” the moment he takes a good look at you, he trails off. it’s almost comical how quickly his demeanor changes, that signature smirk of his creeping onto his lips. “with an even lovelier face to match.”

you narrow your eyes at him, not charmed by the sudden switch in attitude. “you’re shameless.”

he smiles. “so i’ve been told.”

“we’ll need to work on that.”

his grin widens, if that was even possible. “i look forward to it.”

his smile is a little too mischievous for your liking; you sigh. “can’t say the same.”

ignoring your remark, he muses, “you know, it’s a shame that working under you is supposed to be a punishment. a pretty face like yours is more of a reward, if you ask me.”

“who said anything about a punishment?”

“well, what else would you call this?” he chuckles dryly. “instead of cooking, i’m expected to wait on idiots who can’t tell a rosé prosecco from a cheval blanc. and now i’m being treated like i need a babysitter.”

you fold your arms. “that’s because you do need a babysitter. besides, zeff calls the shots so there’s no use complaining.”

“of course you’d say that.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

he smirks. “i can already tell you’re a professional rule follower. a lap dog, if you will.”

“if you were too, we wouldn’t even be here.” you decide to take it even further, returning his bluntness. “maybe it’d be easier if that ego of yours wasn’t so inflated.”

“damn.” he places a hand over his heart as if you’ve wounded him. “if we’re talking about flaws, though, this might be a good time to mention the stick up your ass.”

“what? i don’t–” you take a deep breath. “listen, zeff is counting on me to turn you into a functional waiter. that means we have to tolerate each other for the time being. the sooner we do that, the sooner we go our separate ways. got it?”

he flashes you his teeth. “yes, ma’am.”

“great. to start, you’re going to wait tables with me.” with that, you walk back to patty’s station.

sanji scampers behind you, smile fading. “you’re joking.”

you shrug, opting to let your silence answer for you.

he continues, “you’re not even going to let me suffer through this alone? i’ve gotta be glued to your hip as well?”

“what’s the matter? i thought i was lovely,” you tease him, feigning sorrow. your faux pout contradicts the way you harshly shove two steaming plates his way.

“not when you’re bossing me around.” he hesitantly takes the dishes you hand him. “i mean, can’t you just let me off the hook? i’ll hide in the supply closet ‘til our shift’s over.”

“good one.”

WEEK ONE.

“welcome to baratie, i’ll be your waitress this afternoon. what can i get started for you?” you ask, ready to jot down the table’s orders on your notepad. “i recommend today’s special—”

an arm digging into your ribs cuts you off. the action is forceful enough to jolt you but light enough not to hurt. you glare at the culprit, who tilts his head expectantly as if to ask, aren’t you forgetting something?

“oh, how unprofessional of me,” you deadpan. “this is sanji, he’ll be accompanying me. we’re training new hires.”

the smile on his face disappears, clearly insulted at being compared to an inexperienced beginner.

you continue, “as i was saying, today’s special is a beef filet with rice and seaweed soup. it was chosen by chef zeff himself.”

that seems to pique the customers’ interests. who didn’t want to eat a meal that had the chef zeff’s stamp of approval? they enthusiastically agree to add it to their order.

sanji scoffs. “that’s not sayin’ much. zeff wouldn’t know a good meal if it kicked him in the peg leg.”

you find yourself cringing as the patrons’ faces contort into shock at the blatant insult. well, there goes your tip.

chuckling nervously, you attempt to redirect the conversation. “can i, um, get you anything to drink?”

dismissing sanji’s outburst, they opt to look over the various wines the menu has to offer. you allow yourself to tune out their indecisive murmuring for the time being. however, sanji soon breaks the peaceful silence.

“you know what, how about i whip up a dish of my own for you two? ’s called a true bluefin sauté, somethin’ that’ll put today’s special to shame. free of charge, of course—”

“okay, that’s enough,” you intervene in between yet another forced laugh. “could you please excuse us for a moment?”

the guests’ irritated expressions fill you with shame — you were used to smiles and hefty tips but never this. you pull sanji aside, ignoring his complaints about the excessive force you use to do so.

“you need to get it together,” you seethe.

“i’m trying my best,” he replies, though there’s a smug undertone to it. “like you said, i am just a new hire.”

you suppress a sigh. “no new hire would badmouth the owner to customers like that. or offer to make dishes that aren’t—and never will be—on the menu.”

“ouch, that was personal—”

“just let patty know we need two specials. and tell him to make it top priority, we don’t want to piss these people off even more. can you do that, please?”

it was clear you were stressed by the mess he’d created, if your pleading tone was anything to go by. sanji decides to take pity on you. he wordlessly retreats to the kitchen to do what you had asked. no quips, no teasing.

for the first time, he follows your instructions.

WEEK TWO.

it seemed as if everyone in the east blue was set on having their breakfast at the baratie.

the kitchen was bustling, cooks slaving over the stove and waiters twisting past each other to grab orders. among them was you, sweaty and thoroughly overwhelmed. despite the task at hand, you can’t help but question the whereabouts of a certain blonde.

“where’s sanji?” you demand while grabbing more steaming plates.

carne, the chef who’d cooked the meals, answers you. “haven’t seen him all morning.”

you groan, using your sleeve to wipe off the beads of perspiration that form at your hairline before grabbing a bowl of oatmeal and plate of fluffy belgian waffles. you knew sanji still wasn’t happy about being a waiter (and he took every chance to show it) but that didn’t matter; it was all hands on deck this morning.

you continue expertly stacking the dishes into your arms and hands. it was a technique you’d learned over the years and now it felt like second nature. soon enough, you’re balancing plates up to your forearms. you’re just about to head back out to the dining hall when you hear a familiar accent behind you.

“we doin’ party tricks now or what?”

startled, you turn around so fast it causes the dishware in your hold to teeter ever so slightly. there stands sanji, clearly finding amusement in how you’re up to your elbows in breakfast foods.

“maybe don’t sneak up on me when i’m holding six plates?” you chastise him.

he chuckles. “sorry, sorry. what did i miss?”

“only the worst breakfast rush i’ve ever seen. where have you been?”

“i was takin’ a smoke outside.”

“productive.” your tone drips with sarcasm. “we’ll talk about punctuality later, for now just take the rest of those plates for me.”

sanji reluctantly obeys, grabbing two plates from the multitude of options and steps back, ready to follow you. you look at him in what could only be described as utter disbelief. he returns the stare and furrows his eyebrows as if he really can’t understand what he’s doing wrong.

“you’re seriously only taking two?” you ask.

“yeah? what, were you expecting me to join your balancing act?”

“it would help!”

“trust me, i’d only make a bigger mess.”

“sanji.”

“fine! show me.”

you squint your eyes at him in irritation. “my hands are a little full right now.”

he purses his lips. “then just tell me how.”

you comply. “get your first plate, put it between your thumb and the edge of your pointer finger. make sure to rotate it away from your body.”

sanji follows your directions, attentively. he glances up at you once he completes the first couple steps, scanning your face for any disapproval. you give him a nod.

“so far so good. next, put your second plate under the first. use your remaining fingers to support it– yeah, just like that. and let the edge of the plate rest on the bottom of the first.”

as sanji carefully carries out your instructions, you notice the determination written on his face. you’d never seen him put so much effort in a task, much less one you’d given him. you could tell it was challenging, judging by the way his hands wobble with uncertainty as he stacks the plates, but not once does he stop. it’s admirable. you feel a smile form on your face.

“okay, what n— what’re you laughin’ at?”

“i’m not laughing,” you defend. “it’s just– you’re really trying. it’s nice. i like this sanji.”

he opens his mouth as if to respond but decides not to at the last moment. there’s a brief silence before he raises his eyebrows to signal he was ready for the next step.

“right. um, the third plate uses your arm and the edge of the second plate as balance points so you’re gonna wanna put it– yeah, right there.”

you take in the sight of all three plates successfully resting on sanji’s arm as one of his trademark grins appears on his lips. clearly he’s proud of himself but as his wide eyes meet yours, you can’t help but feel as if he’s seeking your approval too. you notice that when he glances up at you, there’s an eager look in his eyes as if he’s hanging on to your every breath. you figure it’s normal for someone to want their mentor’s praise, right?

you willingly deliver the encouragement. “you’re a natural. better than me.”

his reply comes so quickly it almost seems as if he’s said it without thinking. “well, that’s not possible, is it?”

his tone sounds warm; sincere. not to mention, this is the first time sanji has complimented your skills as a waitress. you’d received countless praises for your work ethic but somehow, something so simple from someone like sanji makes this different. special, in a way.

“let’s get to the table, food’s gonna get cold,” you say so that you don’t spend too much time replaying his words in your mind.

the journey to said table proves to be more arduous than you’d think. you offer quiet ‘excuse me’s that can hardly be heard over the commotion of the kitchen as your coworkers try their best to make way for you and sanji. some of their eyes linger on the plates that masterfully balance on both your arms but truthfully, the sight of sanji exerting so much effort into waiting tables is more impressive to them. it’s distracting enough to send one of them to colliding straight into you.

your first instinct is to try and salvage as many dishes as possible but it’s useless when the impact is so strong that it sends you stumbling backwards. the only reason you don’t fall over is the firm chest that presses against your back and the two pairs of strong arms that find their way around your waist. the ear-splitting sound of yours and sanji’s plates shattering against the floor is unpleasant and yet all you can think about is how sanji literally dropped everything to catch you.

the waiter you’d crashed into groans, looking down at the mess of broken dishware and food gone to waste. “god, look where you’re going if you’re gonna carry all those plates.”

“i’m sorry,” you instantly apologize, flustered by the rare mistake. “i was just trying to get ahead of the rush–”

“instead, you set us back further.” his eyes flit down to his shirt and then yours. “and ruined both our uniforms.”

the abruptness of your mishap (and your skinship with sanji) had robbed all your attention, causing you to overlook the various creams and sauces that now bleed into your shirt.

“watch it,” sanji warns him, finding the man’s aggressive tone intolerable. “if you worked half as hard as she is then maybe there wouldn’t be such a need to catch up on orders.”

your coworker fixes sanji with a glare for intervening. “i’m not talking to you, pal.”

“well, i’m talking to you. and i’m thinkin’ of taking this discussion outside if you don’t apologize for being a jackass.”

that earns him an irritated sigh. however, he complies. “i’m sorry. can i get back to work now?”

sanji remains unimpressed. “don’t apologize to me. apologize to her.”

he doesn’t even try to hide his eye roll before he gives you a lackadaisical apology. “i’m sorry, alright? tell your boyfriend to back off.”

he stomps away, leaving you even more rattled up by his last comment. slowly, you turn around to sanji, unsure of what to say. you take in the stains that litter his suit, though he seems unbothered by it. his stare is heated as he watches the man leave. however, when he notices you staring, his gaze softens.

“what was his problem?” he asks you with a chuckle that sounds out of place in a moment like this.

in any other situation you’d poke fun at sanji for also having gotten worked up but you choose not to. him getting so angry on your behalf felt… strange. not unwelcome, though.

your reply is simple. “y-yeah. real asshole.”

he lifts a brow. “you okay?”

you nod a little too hard. “i’m just not used to situations like that. thanks for stepping in. and, you know, catching me.”

sanji glances away when your look of pure gratitude becomes too much for him to handle. “i couldn’t have you eat shit and be out of commission, zeff just might decide to mentor me himself. and no one wants that, right?”

you can’t help but laugh at the dismissive demeanor he was putting on when he’d literally just threatened a man for you. “right.”

he clears his throat. “let’s go get cleaned up then.”

“sorry,” you blurt. “about your suit, i mean. it’s all dirty now.”

he shakes his head. “wasn’t your fault. if anything, i should go force an apology out of that jerk.”

“well, while you do that i’m gonna clean this mess up.”

“no need.” he shoots you a sly wink. “i’ll make him do that too.”

WEEK THREE.

you find yourself clearing off an empty table on a somewhat slow thursday afternoon when the baratie’s newest guests catch your eye. they look nothing like the stuffy moneybags that frequented the establishment – far from it. in fact, you find yourself having to do a double take when you notice that one of them is wearing overalls. it’s refreshing, you think, occasionally glancing up at them as they settle in.

when you head back to the kitchen to grab menus, you bump into sanji, who’d arrived from his break.

you glance at the clock on the wall. “was that actually only ten minutes? i’m impressed.”

sanji exhales as he does every time he feels sheepish about following the rules. “don’t get used to it.”

you disregard his comment and instead hand him a couple menus. “come on, we’ve got a table.”

he frowns. “i just got back.”

“you’ll live. i think it’ll be a interesting one.”

that was an understatement.

“welcome to baratie. my name is sanji. what can i get for you?”

sanji’s customer service voice never fails to amuse you. it sounds too forced, too sharp; as if he’s just dying to spew a one-liner or two. you have to admit, though, he’d done pretty well ever since you started letting him take the lead. there was a clear improvement from when you’d first started, a little over two weeks ago.

“one of everything!” the one with the straw hat enthusiastically exclaims.

another, more feminine, voice joins the conversation. “maybe save that for after we find the one piece.”

there’s a brief pause before sanji speaks again, this time in a tone you know all too well. “didn’t see you there, madam. would you care for an aperitif to start? we have several rare micqueot vintages in stock. or perhaps you’d like a glass of umeshu? you know, something sweet for someone sweet.” he ends with a wink.

she cringes. “is there something wrong with your eye?”

you can hear sanji’s smile in his reply. “just blinded by your beauty.”

out of all of sanji’s antics, this somehow feels like the worst one yet. you’re not entirely sure why him blatantly flirting with the woman feels so unbearable but you decide to chalk it up to your professionalism. if any of your fellow waiters flirted with a customer you’d be just as upset… right?

“zeff told me he doesn’t like you terrorizing the female patrons with your flirting so why don’t you knock it off?” you tell sanji, your words carrying an unusual edge to them. “you’re one shitty pick-up line away from a restraining order.”

although you mumble the last part, both sanji and the table seem to pick up on it. your bitterness earns you a surprised tilt of the head from the blonde; it wasn’t like you to have such outbursts, especially not in front of guests.

“relax,” he says, still taken aback. “it’s called working the table. you should try it sometime ‘cause that attitude isn’t gonna get you anywhere.”

a monotonous voice cuts through the tension. “so about those drinks...”

you and sanji pause your discussion to get a look at the face behind the remark. lidded eyes that appear to be permanently hazy return your stare, through lashes so long you can’t help but admire them. the man who they belong to is comfortably splayed out on his side of the booth, calmly observing the two of you. though, it seems like you’ve caught his attention more than anything else. though his gaze seems uninterested, he still effectively studies every inch of you.

sanji seems to pick up the stranger’s staring problem too. he sharply inquires, “is there something on her face?”

the man turns to him once he’s finished sizing you up. “i’m just an observant guy.”

“observe the menu instead, hm?” suddenly, sanji’s tone sounds a lot like yours; irritated and displeased.

“no need.” the green-haired swordsman turns to you. “a beer, please.”

you hold the male’s gaze for a second before nodding. apparently, the eye contact is too prolonged for sanji’s taste because he cuts in, attempting to move things along.

“what about you, madam? anything i can get for you?” you notice he’s using that voice again.

her answer is plain. “water.”

somehow, he manages to complicate it. “still, sparkling, mineral? with ice or without? cubed or crushed?”

“regular water in a regular glass. thanks.”

he beams. “right away.”

“and what about the rest of you?” you ask to impede sanji from asking the woman any more questions.

“two beers,” the one with dark skin says. “i usually have three but–”

“and a milk!” the straw hat adds.

“got it. anything else before we go get those drinks for you?”

a raspy voice speaks up. “do waiters usually come in pairs here?”

you shake your head. “this is a temporary arrangement. he just needed some extra training.”

“that depends on who you ask,” sanji clarifies before narrowing his eyes at the man on the left of the booth. “why do you care anyway, mosshead?”

before you can scold sanji for giving customers rude nicknames, the customer in question swiftly corrects him. “the name’s zoro. i was just curious as to why such a good waiter would be partnered with someone so… incompetent.”

“curious?” scoffs the woman to his left. “since when are you ever curious? about anything other than alcohol, that is.”

“certain things catch my attention once in a while, nami,” he replies, nonchalantly. though he mentions his colleague by name, it’s clear he’s really speaking to you. “it’s just not often that my standards can be met. but when they are, i’m left with no choice but to show a little interest.”

your head tilts at the double meaning his comment carried. though you admire zoro’s ability to be a smooth-talker, you find that that’s where his appeal ends for you.

“high standards, hm? then you’re dining at the wrong place,” spits sanji in an attempt to get zoro’s attention off of you. “only thing that isn’t shitty is the drinks which we’ll be getting for you now, if you’ll excuse us.”

sanji hooks an arm around your shoulder before he spins on his heel and leads you both back to the kitchen. you look over your shoulder, offering the table one of your customer service smiles as an apology for your abrupt exit. sanji’s strides are long and purposeful; he’s angry, you realize. although, you can’t blame him for having such a sour attitude when you yourself aren’t too thrilled either.

you don’t speak to each other for the rest of the shift.

“you smiled at him.”

you sigh, setting your book face down to glare at sanji who stands in the doorway of the quaint breakroom. “i’m on my break, sanji.”

“so am i,” he retaliates, pulling a stick out of the worn-down cigarette box in his pocket as if to prove it to you.

“so it’s not enough that i’m stuck babysitting you when we’re on the clock? you’re gonna start seeking me out in our free time too?”

he purses his lips. “pretty much.”

his stubbornness is unsurprising but you just aren’t in the mood to tolerate it today, not when he’d worked your nerves earlier with his flirtatious behavior. deep down, you know you only have yourself to blame for getting so unreasonably angered by that. maybe that’s what upsets you most.

you sigh. “just tell me what you want.”

“i want to know why you smiled at that asshole.”

“asshole?” you repeat, laughing. “i know you have a potty mouth but god, take it easy.”

he licks his lips. “see, now you’re defending him. what for? do you know him or something?”

“do i have to?”

“no, but... it would be nice if you did. it would help me understand why he was talkin’ to you like that. all flirty but secretive at the same time. it was like you two had some sort of inside joke.”

“so a man being interested in me is so unfathomable to you that i have to know him or else it’s a joke?” you ask, tone heated.

“no, that’s not–” he groans. “i didn’t mean it like that.”

“what about you and that girl? nami, was it?” you sneer. “if zoro’s considered flirty then i don’t think there’s a word for what you are.”

“you’re mad at me for trying to earn a tip?” he asks, squinting his eyes at you. “you told me to be nicer to customers. i was being nice.”

“you were really selling it,” you scoff.

“don’t believe me?” sanji challenges you. “have you ever seen me flirt with a girl that’s not a customer? a girl that’s not you?”

the words tumble out of his mouth haphazardly, as if they’d been weighing heavy on his mind for a while now. as an attempt to recover — an attempt to make it seem like that admission didn’t mean something, he calmly lights the end of his cigarette. he then brings it to his chapped lips and takes a long drag.

you take the moment to really think about what he’d said. sanji was charming by nature and, of course, he knew that. not only that, but he used it to his advantage. people tended to tip better when he was laying it on thick, that much was true.

however, his second question takes a lot more thought. now that you really think about it, you realize he’s right. you’d never seen sanji flirt with another waiter or member of the staff. you were the only waitress he spoke to that way. the realization makes you feel warm in the face.

“i don’t just flirt with you, you know. i do so much more. remember that plate trick you taught me? i practiced for nights on end ‘til i could do it with my eyes closed. and i don’t tell customers how brainless they sound half the time because i know you don’t like it.”

you only watch as he paces back and forth, rattling off these thoughts that have clearly been plaguing him.

“you still never flirt back, though,” he continues, quietly. “lately i’ve been starting to think that you don’t actually like me at all. that’s the only reason i was being like that at the table. i knew i was only kiddin’ myself but still, i wanted to see if there was a small chance you cared.”

“i…” it’s all you can say. seeing this raw, insecure side of him has left you truly speechless.

he fiddles his cig between his fingers. “listen, i wouldn’t blame you if—”

you finally find your voice. “i like you.”

his voice trails off, engrossed in every word you speak. it’s a simple three words and yet he’s attentive as he waits for more to be said.

you begin to ramble, “i like your passion for the things you care about. i like how you always say what you think. i like that you always have my back. sanji, i… really do like you.”

he gives you a weak smile. “that’s nice, sweetheart, but i don’t think you like me the way i like you.”

“just because i don’t flirt much doesn’t mean i can’t have feelings for you, idiot.”

his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows thickly, processing your words. “you— feelings?” there’s a pause. “good ones, right?”

you can’t help but giggle. “yes, good ones. sure as hell not the ones from three weeks ago.”

he joins you with a laugh of his own, which sounds wobblier than usual. he pulls out a chair next to you, as if this moment has left him so shaken up that he needs to sit down. “who would’ve thought? god, i… i can’t believe it.”

“i’ve never heard you stutter so much,” you tell him, tucking a thin strand of blonde hair behind his ear. when your fingers graze against the skin, it’s warm to the touch. cute, you think.

“i just never expected you to give me a chance.”

“a chance? to do what, exactly?” you prod.

he straightens up. “to make you mine.”

your breath hitches in your throat. “sanji—”

“i’m not going to ask anything of you just yet. i think we should take our time. i want to show you that i can be exclusively devoted to you before we go any further. it’s only fair.”

your heart thumps wildly in your chest at the sincerity behind his words. “you’re willing to wait just to prove yourself to me?”

he nods, taking one of your hands and squeezing it. his dedication required no words.

“so that means no more flirting with the female patrons? even when i’m not there beside you?”

he shrugs as if it’s common sense. “if there’s no pretty waitress i want to make jealous then i don’t see a need to flirt.”

you nudge his shoulder. “and what about your tips?”

“small price to pay.”

satisfied with his answers, you lean in and give him a quick kiss on the cheek; it feels giddy and spontaneous. sanji’s palm instinctively comes up to rest on the spot where your lips had been. he grins before attempting to speak—

a thick, husky accent shakes the walls. what makes it more terrifying is that it’s calling both yours and sanji’s names.

“break time’s over! get your asses back out there and wait some tables, now!”

#if this shit gets like 5 likes i’ll be happy #sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #opla sanji x reader #opla x reader #sanji fluff #sanji angst #sanji imagine #sanji oneshot #one piece x reader

[janeyseymour]

Love Thy Neighbor- pt 10

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7. Part 8. Part 9.

Summary: With your ex-husband in town, this is sure to be interesting.

WC: ~2.4k

I’m in Philly this weekend. We should talk.

The good mood that you were in from waking up in your girlfriend’s arms sours at that text, and she notices.

“Hey,” she whispers as she kisses your temple, also rolling out of bed. “You’re upset.”

“I’m not,” you shrug. “I’m fine. Just… thinking.”

“About?”

“It doesn’t matter,” you sigh. “I should probably go check on El. You comin’?”

The redhead nods and follows you into Ellie’s room, where she’s playing on the floor with a few of her dolls.

“Momma! Mel!” she grins up at the two of you. Immediately, she’s launching herself at you, and if either her or Melissa notice the way that you cling to your daughter only a bit desperately they don’t say anything. You lift your little girl onto your hip and hold her close, smoothing down her wild locks and kissing her temple. Melissa follows suit, and she grins when Ellie kisses her cheek back.

“Breakfast?” your daughter looks to your girlfriend with those sweet eyes of hers.

“Obviously,” Melissa chuckles. “And what does the princess want?”

“Chocolate chip pancakes!” Ellie cheers. When you give her a look, she quickly adds on a, “Pretty please!”

The three of you head for the kitchen, and while your daughter and your girlfriend mix the batter together and start heating up the griddle, you stare at your phone contemplating what you should do.

“Penny for your thoughts, hun?” Melissa breaks your trance as she sets a plate full of the breakfast food in front of you. Ellie comes bouncing over with the butter and syrup a few short moments later.

“We can talk later,” you tell her softly. “When we take El to the park.”

Once you finally get Ellie ready for the park and get yourself ready, you head out. Melissa drives the two of you there, and as soon as she can, Ellie is running for the swings. You and your girlfriend walk hand in hand to find a park bench to sit on and keep an eye on your little girl.

“So, what has my girl down?” the redhead asks you once she’s sure your daughter can’t hear her.

“Jared texted me. Said he’s in Philly, and we should talk.”

Her face flickers through a few different emotions before settling on a neutral face. “And how do you feel about that?”

“Honestly? Like I never want to see him again, but I also have El to think about. He is still her father.”

“And he gave up his parental rights,” she reminds you. “Willingly, and without hesitation.”

“I know, I know,” you sigh as you set your head on her shoulder. “But if he wants to reach out in order to stay in Ellie’s life, I cannot deprive my child of her father.”

“You can,” she tells you.

“But it wouldn’t be right… especially because El… she loved her Daddy before everything got messy.”

“It’s up to you, hun,” your girlfriend says. “But I would be cautious.”

“I know, I know,” you mutter.

Ellie has a blast at the park like she always does, but after about an hour she’s running back to you with rosy cheeks and telling you she’s sleepy. Melissa carries her back to the car, and in the short ten minute drive back to the apartment complex, she falls asleep in her carseat clutching one of the stuffed animals Melissa keeps in her car now. You lift her out of her carseat and hold her tightly as you make your way up to your apartment. You settle on the couch with her, still in your arms while your girlfriend heads for the kitchen.

“Are you good if I make eggplant parm?” she calls softly.

“That sounds great,” you sigh out.

As she cooks dinner, humming quietly to herself, you continue to torture yourself with the pros and cons of texting Jared back. Ultimately, you tell him that if he’s serious, you can meet him for coffee tomorrow- preferably around the time when Melissa will be going to mass.

His response is almost an immediate one. So the two of you set a time and a place, and you know that come tomorrow morning, you’re going to have to make an excuse to your girlfriend as to why you can’t join her for the church service tomorrow.

Ellie stays asleep up until Melissa calls in that dinner is ready. She clings to the redhead through dinner, claiming that she’s warmer than you are. Despite Melissa trying to get her to stay with you (she knows you need Ellie to keep you grounded right now), your daughter insists on staying in her lap.

Your routine through the end of the night goes on as usual, and when you and Melissa finally lay down for bed, you have an awful pit in your stomach as you prepare to lie to her.

“I don’t know what’s happening,” you mumble with your head on her chest. “But I’m not feeling too great right now.”

“Oh?” Melissa looks at you. “What’s goin’ on?”

“Just… cramps. Probably PMS.”

She’s immediately out of bed and grabbing some ibuprofen and the heating pad, and you feel even more guilty at your lie. Melissa is so willing to take care of you and love you through everything.

You’re lulled to sleep with the extra warmth provided by the heat on your abdomen as well as your girlfriend gently combing her fingers through your hair and her soft humming.

The next morning, you wake up and you wish that you were lying to Melissa when you said that your cramps were awful- they really are. But you also know that this is going to be the perfect way to get out of going to the long church service with her, and you know she’ll take Ellie with her to let you ‘rest’.

She does, and you stay in bed until they both head out. And then you run around like a maniac trying to make yourself look presentable to meet your ex-husband. 

You arrive at the coffee shop you agreed to meet at, and he’s already sitting with two cups in front of him. You drop into the seat across from his, and he pushes one of the cups in your direction.

“Hey!” he smiles at you, and it’s that damned charming smile that made you fall for him in the first place. 

You stare at him for a few minutes in a steely silence. Why did you come here? “What do you want?” is all you ask him as you take a sip of the coffee in hopes of it soothing your nerves. You cradle your abdomen in hopes that your cramps begin to subside soon.

“Damn,” he chuckles. “I come all the way out here to meet you, and that’s the greeting I get?”

“I didn’t ask you to. What do you want?” you ask him again.

He looks a bit stunned that this is the approach you’ve decided to take with him. He’s so used to you being meek and mild, warm and gentle. “I just wanted to catch up.”

“I’m doing just fine out here, with my daughter,” you say shortly.

His eyes go soft. “How is Ellie?”

“She’s fine.”

“C’mon, Y/N,” your ex sighs. “Listen, I’m sorry about everything that happened.”

“You should be,” you laugh bitterly. “You broke apart our family, and for what? To go fuck someone newer and younger? Tighter?” you quote back one of his texts to Jen that you saw after you caught him in bed with her. 

“Y/N, I was an idiot,” he tells you. You nod with a smirk. “I came out here to tell you that I want us to get back together.”

“Not a chance in hell,” you snort.

“Then at least let me see Ellie,” he tries. “C’mon. You owe me that.”

“I don’t owe you shit,” you tell him. “You cheated on me, and then signed away your parental rights without hesitation. And I’m still waiting for all of your child support money. So, I see it that if I don’t have the money in my hand by the end of this meeting-”

“Where is Ellie?” he asks quietly. “I was hoping she would be with you.”

“With our neighbor,” you say. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

“You left her with your neighbor?” he asks you incredulously.

You nod. “I did. I trust Melissa- my girlfriend.”

He raises both of his eyebrows at that reveal. “Moved on so quick?”

“You moved on before you even took your ring off, so don’t give me any fucking shit, Jared,” you hiss out. “Babysitter fucker.”

“I didn’t realize you still swung that way. I thought I fucked the gay out of you,” he smirks.

“Oh, eat shit,” you stand from your place and throw your hot coffee in his face. “Don’t bother getting in touch unless it’s to fork over the child support. If I don’t have it by the end of the month, I will be getting a lawyer.”

You head out to leave the shop, and who do you run into on your way out the door but Melissa and Ellie. Your girlfriend gives you quite the questioning look, considering you were sick in bed an hour ago. 

“Momma!” your little girl shouts as she slams into your body to hug you.

You groan softly at the contact, but lift her into your arms and hold her tightly, praying she doesn’t see her father. Melissa kisses you at the same time that Ellie gasps, points, and shouts, “Daddy!”

You close your eyes and give a face of pure defeat. You were just caught.

“Ellie girl!” your ex-husband replies with the same amount of enthusiasm, and your daughter is wiggling her way out of your arms to run over to her father. He scoops her up into the biggest hug, despite the fact that he’s still covered in your beverage.

“You came here to meet Jared?” Melissa whispers as she eyes the man.

You nod sheepishly before attempting to make your way over to the two of them. You have to stop about halfway there, gasping in pain as your stomach twists in knots. Your girlfriend follows, an arm wrapped around you protectively.

“Daddy, you’re all wet!” Ellie giggles.

“You know Daddy,” he chuckles in the easy way that he used to with her. “Clumsy, clumsy.”

“Silly Daddy,” your little girl playfully rolls her eyes and sighs dramatically.

“How are you, little girl?”

Your daughter grins as she launches into her stories. “I love it here! I love school, and Momma and I go to the park all the time with Miss Mel like we are today!” she points to Melissa. “That’s Miss Mel, and I love her. She’s my favoritest person in the whole wide world!”

You have to bite back a snort when you see the hurt expression on his face, and you beam when you see your girlfriend’s proud look. You don’t even care that you aren’t your daughter’s favorite person right now because at least it isn’t him. 

“And Miss Ellie’s favorite person in the world brought her down here to pick up some coffee and doughnuts for being such a good little girl at church today,” Melissa cuts in. “Which I think we should do, what do you think El?”

The little girl absolutely beams as she remembers why they’re here, and she runs for the redhead. 

They head off towards the counter, and your eyes turn to stone again as you face your ex-husband. 

“I don’t know what kind of game you’re trying to play here, but quit it. You’re not getting her back,” you hiss. You turn on your heel and make your way up to where your girlfriend and daughter are ordering.

“I already ordered your coffee,” Melissa tells you with a kiss to the temple. She readjusts Ellie so she can grab her wallet from her pocket, but before she can insert the card, Jared is there handing over some money.

“I got this one,” he says cooly. “For my little girl, and my wife.”

There’s a fire in Melissa’s eyes, and before she can get anything out, Ellie pipes up. “You and Momma aren’t married anymore!”

Your mouth, along with Melissa’s and Jared’s, form into shocked faces. Your little girl is right.

“But thanks for breakfast anyway,” you laugh in his face. “Bye.”

You hope that he’ll just leave in anger, but he doesn’t. Instead, he turns his eyes even softer and his voice even smoother. “Well, I was hoping that I could maybe tag along to the park to spend some time with my little girl who I’ve missed so much.”

Fuck. Now he’s using Ellie against you, and you know your daughter will beg you to let him come.

“I missed you too, Daddy,” your daughter whispers softly, but she keeps her hold on Melissa.

“Not today, sweetheart,” the redhead says quietly as she runs a hand through your daughter’s hair. “Your momma isn’t feeling super well, so today is going to be an easy day.”

You nod along.

“Maybe another day this week then,” he shrugs. He isn’t giving up. “I’m here all week for a work conference.” With that, he kisses Ellie’s head, kisses your own, and then heads out.

A tense silence washes over Melissa and you as you wait for your coffees to finish being prepared. Ellie just hums to herself softly as she lays her head down on the redhead’s shoulder and fiddles with the ends of your girlfriend’s hair.

Your names are called, you grab the coffees, and make your way out to her car- you silently thank God that you won’t have to take the Septa now.

No words are spoken between you and your girlfriend for the entirety of the drive home, and when you make your way to your apartment, she turns for her own door.

“You aren’t coming in?” you ask quietly, and you hate the way that your voice breaks.

“I need ten minutes,” she says scarily calmly. “To change and collect myself.”

Fuck. She’s mad. Deciding that it’s best to give her the ten minutes she’s requested, you unlock your own front door and take Ellie to the kitchen table to enjoy her breakfast.

Tags (and let me know if you want to be included!): @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @nothere1111 @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude

#melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #abbott elementary fanfic #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary

[goddessofroyalty]

So this was based on a silly joke I have in my head about hormonal birth control not working for omega!Sanji for (spoilers) reasons and him and Zoro then ending up with 3 kids on the pirate journey because they keep breaking condoms.

Anyway this is just them finally making it back to the Baratie and having to face up to Zeff about it (from Zeff’s POV)

Pairing: Zoro/Sanji

Tags: omegaverse, mpreg

---------

Zeff will admit he is slightly surprised at the swell in Sanji’s stomach when he showed up again as part of what seems to be the new Pirate King and crew’s Victory Tour.

It’s not that Eggplant had given him no indication of it – he had been getting more and more jittery every damn time he’d gotten in touch as the Strawhats made their various stops before reaching the Baratie. Saying how some things had happened during his travels and that he’d needed to talk to Zeff about them in person. But Zeff had assumed it was to do with his damnable family. Not that his woman-obsessed omega son had gone and got himself knocked up. By an alpha, going by the new layer of scent clinging on top of the one he remembers to be Sanji’s.

And, because wonder’s don’t fucking cease, they’ve only just gotten through their tearful hug when a little green-haired girl comes running over. Clinging to Eggplants leg and staring up at Zeff with curious, familiar, blue eyes.

“I thought you were staying on the ship Princess?” Eggplant says, brushing a hand through her hair. And Zeff is equally sure that actually Sanji told her to stay on the ship as he is that his boy was as much a pushover to his daughter as he had been any woman who had stepped foot into the Baratie before he left.

“You know she wasn’t gonna’ as soon as she found out this was your old home.” And there was the newly minted World’s Greatest Swordsman and apparently sire to Zeff’s grandkids walking in like it had been his home as well and not the place he had gotten nearly cut in half by the former owner of the title.

And, fucks sake, there was another little one resting on his hips as he does it with that same matching green hair.

“I do remember teaching you about the importance of making them wrap it,” Zeff grumbles, because going by the age of the older one the two it hadn’t been all that long after Sanji left that he had gotten himself knocked up. “I know you said you weren’t planning on getting with any alphas but I know you were still listening.”

Eggplant goes red at it before glaring at Roronoa who gives a grin back that is entirely too filthy and leaves Zeff sure that he doesn’t actually want to know.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” Zeff asks more to move the topic away from his kid’s sex life before he finds out more about it than he wants to.

They had been exchanging letters and calls on and off the whole time and never once had Eggplant mentioned that he was going to be or had become a granddad in any of them.

“I did try to but I couldn’t say anything too direct in case it got intercepted,” Sanji explains, resting a protective hand over his middle while the other curls around the girl at his side.

It makes some degree of sense. Best way to keep the two, soon to be three, pups from being a target is to have nobody know they exist in the first place.

Maybe Zeff should have guessed something like this was up when Sanji had asked him how he had dealt with the stress of raising a kid in the dangerous world they lived in. But he had just assumed his boy had finally matured enough to realize how much of an antagonistic dumbass he had been at times.

“I did want to tell you though,” Sanji continues, his voice guilty.  

Roronoa has moved close to his mate’s side, not touching though. Which is probably what Sanji actually wants – always had been a bit funny about any too direct an offer of comfort. Something Zeff’s probably as much to blame for as anything else in his life.

“You have no idea how many times I nearly did.”

“Probably for the best you didn’t,” Zeff says because he can’t have his kid feeling guilty for doing the smart thing. “I don’t know if I’d have been able to keep away if you did.”

Neither he nor his ship these days are made for the journey to the Grand Line. And it wouldn’t have been good for Sanji or the rest of the crew of his to have an old pirate getting underfoot while they were making names for themselves on history’s pages.

“Hell, I’m gonna’ struggle letting you sail off with my grandkids with you now. You better come visit more than you have been!” He doesn’t actually hold it against them and damn well know the reason why this is the first time he’s seen them since Sanji left to join a pirate crew. But he still missed years of his grandkids lives as a result and they had better make up for it.

#zosan #One Piece #One Piece mpreg #mpreg #zoro x sanji #one piece zosan #op zosan #One Piece omegaverse #omegaverse #roronoa zoro #vinsmoke sanji #red leg zeff #I accidently a ficlet

[tgmsunmontue]

Come on baby light my fire… 2/2 (or 7/7?)

Hangster. 3k. Explicit. Apartment fire alarm at 1am featuring Jake in his underwear and Bradley with kittens.

All six potential endings are included in one post below. If you'd rather read them as separate chapters you can check out AO3 where I posted it first for once.

PART ONE (on Tumblr)

OPTION A

                Jake looks down at the sleeping man, so tempted to curl up back in bed with him. But he’s got to go and figure out how to get back into his own apartment. Most importantly though is he wants Bradley’s number, and he knows his own. He grabs Bradley’s phone, carefully grabs his hand and presses his finger to the fingerprint reader and sure enough it unlocks. There’s a photo of a couple as the background but he’s more interested in adding himself as a contact. He does so quickly, his name followed by a little flame, night cityscape, cat emoji, then an eggplant and some droplets because he’s hilarious and he’s pretty sure Bradley will think he’s funny.

                He sends himself a couple of messages, basically with all the details of where he’s gone and that he has no plans for the rest of the day and will come back to the apartment if he can’t locate Javy at the gym, or message him as soon as he’s in his apartment and has access to his phone again. He rifles through Bradley’s bag, a little perturbed by the number of Hawaiian shirts he finds, but pulls out a very worn US Navy t-shirt that has a very retro feel. None of it is what he’d usually wear, but all of it is better than being naked. It’s bad enough that he’s going to have to be barefoot and he wonders whether he could really chance taking what look like Bradley’s only pair of shoes. Screw it. He’ll be back soon enough.

                He laces up, the shoes a bit too big, then jogs the two blocks to where Javy prefers to go to the gym, glad it’s not further. It’s still at least another fifteen minutes before he usually starts, but Jake can’t risk him being early and missing him. But he is a man borne of military routine and walks up about a minute before Jake expected him.

                “Javy! Hey!”

                “Man! What are you wearing?!”

                “It’s a long story, well, actually, it’s not that long. My apartment building had a fire alarm, I left without my keys but I was only wearing my underwear. Hooked up with this guy who is fucking scorching hot –”

                “But has terrible taste in clothes.”

                “He’d make this work, trust me. Anyway, I need you to get my spare key.”

                “I’m not skipping my workout for you…”

                “Yes you are, in gratitude for me not waking you at two in the morning in my underwear to give me my spare…”

                “And I’m sure you were really suffering with the scorching hot guy. Your story is truly heart wrenching.”

                “Come on!”

                “Fine, here, take my keys, go and grab yours, then you can return your spare and my keys back to me. Deal?”

                “Yeah, good plan. I probably shouldn’t have both sets on me.”

                “You think?” Javy says dryly and Jake gives him the finger.

                After agreeing to take Jake’s car to make it all much faster he gets through the logistics of getting to Javy’s, grabbing his spare keys and then back to his apartment. Lets himself in with a sigh of relief and immediately goes to his phone, ignores all the other messages and clicks on the new messages and clicks Add Contact. He enters in Bradley, following it with a cat emoji and then three little flames. He’s not going to forget who Bradley is in a hurry. He doesn’t bother changing, needs to return Javy’s car and keys and then come back again. As he’s walking back he sends a message, nerves fluttering in his stomach.

>>I have keys, my phone and am heading back to my apartment. 5A. Want to come over?

>>On my way.

OPTION B

                Jake rolls his eyes, of course Bradley’s phone is dead. Ah well, he can go old school. There’s a pen and paper on the bench and he quickly writes down his name and number, along with his apartment number and a hope to see you soon. Leaves the piece of the paper smack center in the middle of the kitchen counter where it can’t be missed. He pulls on his underwear, then rifles through Bradley’s clothes and pulls out some sweat pants and a t-shirt. Okay, this is going to be a mortifying experience however slightly less mortifying than if he went out in just his underwear. Also less likely to result in any indecency charges.

…            …            …

                Bradley looks at the little pieces of paper and his heart sinks. He’s pretty sure that it’s a note, now ripped to shreds and missing pieces, the kittens having wrecked havoc on the little piece of paper, now scattered around like soggy confetti. He picks up one of the pieces and it’s definitely got a number on it. What number, he has no idea, it could be an apartment number for all he knows. He freezes, realizing that he’s not going to be thwarted by two baby cats. He knows Jake’s name and that he lives in this apartment building. Eight floors, six apartments on each floor. That’s forty-eight handwritten notes, minus six because he doesn’t need to do one for Hilary’s apartment or any of her neighbors, because surely Jake would have mentioned if he’d been on the same floor. That’s something you’d mention right?

                He finds some paper, making sure it’s a decent size because the last thing he wants is for Jake to somehow miss his note in return, that just makes him look like an inept love interest in a romcom. He’s in charge of this. His hand starts cramping around the thirtieth message but he keeps on, then pulls on some clothes, not caring what he’s wearing. He takes the stairs down to the lobby, eyes up all the little mail slots and then just starts posting a handwritten note in each one. Stands back and looks. Right. Now all he has to do is wait for Jake to contact him.

                The entire day goes by and he refuses to panic. Not everyone checks their mail everyday, he might even have to wait a couple of days, although Hilary is returning tomorrow and he’s meant to be going and staying with Nat for a couple of nights before his next deployment. But Jake will still get his number. He just has to want to use it.

…            …            …

                He should have gotten Bradley’s number.

                It’s been hours and Bradley hasn’t sent him a single message.

                Would it be weird to go and knock on his door?

                Yes. That just seems a shade too desperate. He can act cool.

…            …            …

                Jake frowns at the piece of paper, the only thing in his mail slot and he’s only check it because he’s walking past. A note. A handwritten note.

                Hi, I’m looking for Jake. This is Bradley. Please contact me.

                And then a phone number and he grins at it, because he’s going to get some answer now, multiple answers he suspects, because his number of questions has just doubled. He enters the number into his phone as he walks, presses call and holds the phone to his ear.

                “Hello, Bradley here.”

                “Hi. It’s Jake.”

                “You called! Hi…”

                “Hi… any particular reason you’re leaving me a handwritten note and not just using the technology available to us?”

                “Because I didn’t have your number. The cats, they ripped it to shreds and I just… had to figure out a way of contacting you.”

                “Smart and good looking. If you knew which apartment was mine why didn’t you just come knock on my door. I would have let you in.”

                “Ah… I put a note in every apartments mail slot.”

                “Of course you did…”

                “Well, sitting around outside waiting for you to enter or exit the building seemed a little stalkerish.”

                “Yes. So… not playing hard to get.”

                “Definitely not.”

                “Good. So I can assume you’ll say yes if I ask you out to dinner?”

                “Why don’t you go ahead and ask.”

OPTION C

                He knocks on the door, a little disappointed that Bradley hasn’t sent him a message, is surprised because he’d kind of thought they’d connected on a level that was maybe, hopefully, more than just sexual. The door opens and it’s not Bradley answering, but a woman his age, looking very comfortable in too-big sweats and hoodie. His stomach starts souring, twisting into unpleasant tightness.

                “Hi. Uh…”

                “Are you looking for Bradley?”

                “Ah, yeah. Sorry to have bothered you. He just helped me out the other night,” he flushes, hopes whoever this woman is doesn’t read too much into the helped me out aspect of the sentence, because he hadn’t meant it as an innuendo.

                “Oh, yeah, he was just kitten sitting for me while I was out of town. Do you want his number?”

                He sucks in a sharp breath, the relief sharp and instant.

                “Do you have it?”

                “Of course I do, he’s a college friend. And I’m assuming you’re the hot neighbor who he was annoyed at me about not warning him about?”

                “Jake. My name’s Jake.”

                “Nice to meet you Jake. I expect an invite to the wedding…”

                “Well, he didn’t message me, so maybe don’t plan on that…”

                “Oh, yeah, I found little shreds of paper, so if you tried leaving a note that was a no-go…”

                “What?”

                “Orea and Cracker. They shred paper. I think I found a couple of pieces. Floated my theory past a very forlorn Brad Brad and he said it was maybe a possibility. Here, take his number and go put your man out of his misery…”

OPTION D (Version I – fits within TGM events)

                Pete frowns, because he hasn’t seen that shirt in years. Maybe literal decades, and now that’s a scary thought for other reasons. But he’d swear that that man is wearing Goose’s old Navy shirt, old sauce stain down the front and everything. Bradley had taken it when he’d left, had always used it as a pyjama top and it had always made Pete smile to see, the memories still bittersweet of the dinner shared with friends. He needs to know.

                “Ah, excuse me. This is going to be an odd question, but I just need to ask. Where did you get that shirt?”

                “This one? Ah, funny story actually… I ended up locked out of my apartment in the middle of the night due to a fire alarm and this guy helped me out. Said I could borrow anything, cause did I mention I was only in my underwear? Anyway, I left before he woke, and I’ve never been able to return it to him…”

                “You couldn’t go and knock on his door?” Pete asks, because something isn’t adding up.

                “Well, I almost did, but then I saw this woman leaving and decided it was maybe best not to rock any boats.”

                “Oh. Hmm. Well, I’m pretty sure he’d like that top back. It belonged to his father. He usually sleeps in it…”

                “You know him?”

                “Bradley? Yes. You want his number?”

                “I… sure.”

                “Okay. You just can’t ever tell him who gave it to you, okay?”

OPTION D (Version II – only ending where Mav and Bradley have a relationship)

                There’s a guy staring at him and it’s starting to annoy him a little. It’s even starting to border on a little creepy and he gives him the side eye. Instead of it putting the guy off it has the opposite effect and he’s now walking over, about to make fucking conversation of all things while Jake is just trying to work out.

                “Where did you get that t-shirt?”

                Okay, that wasn’t quite what Jake was expecting. Maybe a sly comment on his form, or body… not the almost threadbare shirt he borrowed from Bradley and has never been able to return. Also this guy is old enough to be his father, he’s not familiar enough with the brass on base to not give this man the potential respect he deserves.

                “Sir?”

                “Where did you get that t-shirt?” he repeats.

                “Uh…” Jake looks down at the shirt, and it’s the one he’d taken a couple of weeks ago from his night with Bradley. “From a guy.”

                “A guy.”

                “Yes sir.”

                “Sorry, I’m Captain Mitchell. I… Wait… your middle-of-the-night fire-alarm underwear-guy!”

                “Excuse me sir?”

                “I believe we have someone in common, and he’s going to want that t-shirt back. It belonged to his father.”

                “You know Bradley? I went looking for him, but there was this woman at the apartment.”

                “His friend Hilary, yes. He stays at her apartment whenever she’s out of town to look after her cats.”

                “Oreo and Cracker.”

                “Yes. Who I believe are to blame for shredding the note you left.”

                “What?”

                “They found tiny pieces, some of it chewed up. Not enough to make anything out of it. Trust me, I’ve heard this lamented to me far too many times in the last couple of weeks to not be very familiar with it all. Your first name is Jake isn’t it?”

                “Yes sir. Lieutenant Jake Seresin.”

                “Of course you are. I’m picking he has no idea you’re navy, because this would have gone a lot faster if he’d mentioned that.”

                “No sir, we didn’t exactly swap life stories.”

                That gets him a raised eyebrow and smirk and Jake flushes, not really sure who Captain Mitchell is to Bradley, but if what he says is true, then Bradley does want to see him again. That’s a swoop of positive feelings after a couple of weeks of feeling rejected.

                “Right. Stand just there. I’m going to take a picture and send it to Bradley, tell him I found his shirt… he was just as sad about the shirt as he was about you.”

                Jake blinks, the guy is taking his picture before he can even say anything, Jake doesn’t even know if he was smiling, probably looked like a stunned rabbit. He glances over the shoulder and the man, this Captain Mitchell, is cropping his face out of the picture completely, thumbing out I found something that I believe belongs to you, and pressing send before Jake has time to even think of asking for Bradley’s number.

                “Can I get his number?”

                “How about you come home with me and you ask him for yourself, hmm?”

OPTION E

                Jake wakes slower than usual, warmer, and he stetches and then freezes when something grabs his foot. His brain registers then, kitten and he smiles into the darkness, memories coming back and yeah… this is definitely a preferable way of waking up.

                “Mornin’…” Jake says, sliding his body over Bradley’s, naked skin sliding against his and he’s glad they’re both naked.

                “Mmm… Hi. Why are you waking me up so early?”

                “Well, I realized one of the few ways of getting my spare keys is to hunt down my friend who has them. And he goes to the gym early.”

                “Ugh. This early? Is there any way we can get your friend’s number which does not involve us getting up right now and doing a manhunt across the city?”

                “It’s not exactly the city, just two blocks.”

                “Is he listed anywhere as your emergency contact that we can ring and ask for it?”

                Jake opens his mouth and immediately shuts it. There is someplace he can ring which would maybe give him Javy’s number, or at the minimum pass a message on.

                “Actually, yeah. Well, they might not give me the number but they’d pass a message on for me.”

                “And can we ring them later?”

                “Yeah, we can definitely do that later…”

                Worst case, he can always try catching Javy at the gym tomorrow instead.

…            …            …

                Later, after another heavy make out session in bed, messy and leaving Jake wanting more, he takes Bradley’s offered phone and thumbs open the keypad. He’s going to ring the HR line for military service people, because there are surely people in worse positions than him that call up asking for weirder and wackier things than an emergency contact number. Even if Javy isn’t exactly his emergency contact, they can ring him and give him Bradley’s number. As he enters in the number he sees various contacts pop up and then;

                “Why is the number for the Military HR service line programmed into your phone?”

                “Because I'm a commissioned officer.”

                “Oh shit! Me too. Lieutenant Jake Seresin.”

                “Ha. Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw.”

                “Wait… Bradley Bradshaw. You know Javy. Coyote. He flew with you.”

                “Coyote is your emergency contact?”

                “Well, he’s the guy that has my spare keys…”

                “Well, I already have his number. I was planning on meeting up with him later actually.”

                “Of course you were. Bradshaw. He was right.”

                “What?”

                “You are exactly my type.”

#Hangster #Sereshaw #Top Gun Maverick fanfic #come on baby light my fire #This was an interesting exercise and I will probably never do it again

[silly-inky]

Some Mario and Luigi headcanons as I’m bored and have a bit of free time on my hands

So as we all know Mario and Luigi are Italian, or well Italian-American as they grew up (and probably were born in) Brooklyn. So growing up in an Italian household would have certainly helped shape their personality’s, and how they react to certain situations. Also I just wanna add real quick, I wish they had more thicker accents in the movie, but i get why they didn’t with the voice actors they had

For instance they could probably come up with some very creative colourful insults without actually having to swear, because god forbid they swore around their mother, unless they we were wanting to get hit with the spoon they kept the swearing for occasions outside of the house

I don’t think either of them (even Luigi) would be out of by yelling, so if someone who was usually very intimidating started to shout at them, I think they would actually calm down a bit, that is if they were even scared of them at all. So I’m just imagining Bowser yelling at Luigi and Luigi being like:

“why are you raising you voice, I can hear you perfectly fine. The only person that scares me when they raise their voice is my mama and Nona, so sit down and calm yourself.”

They raise their voices when they want to be heard, growing up in a loud household that’s something that becomes a habit, and they are very loud when they want to be.

I imagine when they want to curse they do it in Italian. I imagine the Koopalings or even the princess picking up one of these swears, not knowing what it actually means, and just repeating it to one or both of the brothers, Luigi would probably stand in shock before telling them not to use the word, while Mario ends up laughing his ass off, wheezing on the ground while Luigi is trying to explain why it’s a bad word while frantically looking around, scared that his mother has somehow heard them and magically teleported to them, spoon in hand.

I think that if Luigi gets to know a person he acts a bit more like Mario, more confident and slightly smug, if he had more confidence facing off villains he would be quippy with his comebacks

I think that although Luigi is awkward he isn’t to bad in the social area, if he needs to speak out and make a point he will, but you best believe he’s going to think it all through before hand, and when he speaks out, he has every answer prepared with a complimentary call out/ insult if needed

Mario would use his insult talent for evil, in which I mean he’s going to use it against DK, Wario, Waluigi, Bowser, maybe even Daisy if he and when he wants too. And I can totally see him teaching either the little toad children or the koopalings how to come up with brilliant insults on the spot, while also teaching them respect and manners

“remember kids, be kind to strangers unless they are rude, treat people how they treat you, and remember, respect is earned not given. Now, what do we call someone that is disrespectful and rude to a cashier who is only doing their job?“

Their mother always made sure their friends were fed whenever they came round, so Mario and Luigi continue that, Mario almost pops a vein when he learns that the princess hasn’t had a proper meal in 2 days due to focusing on her duties instead of her own health. He sits her down with a nice meal and doesn’t leave her until she’s at least taken a few bites, he can’t and doesn’t want to force her to eat of course, but he won’t feel right with himself until he sees her have at least 5 goods sips from some soup or something. Her favourite is eggplant Parmesan

Luigi if staying over at E.Gadd’s would prepare the professor some food, which is a nice change from the instant noodle he practically lives off of, he will even make food for the ghosts, he knows they technically need to eat, but he knows some of them still enjoy eating, he has his own ghostly puppers to prove that fact, so whenever he’s around he likes to make a big pot of soup for the ghosts that enjoy his cooking.

I’ve brought this up in a previous post, but Mario and Luigi’s grandfather (the one featured in the movie) is an ex-boxer. So the boys probably grew up taking boxing lessons from him and his old boxing ring. That is probably why they were so good at fighting from the start. I imagine they give lessons on how to box, Daisy and maybe Roy taking a particular liking to it. But before their first lesson they said to the class:

“Our grand pop’s always said to never use this outside of the ring unless needed. He would say if he ever found out we were using it to bully a kid, he would ring our necks. You use it if your defending yourself or others. Or to put it more bluntly ‘I taught you it’s never okay to out your hands on someone, but it’s fine to hit back’ and he probably also would have said

“They hit you first, you make sure they never land another hit on you again”.

Whenever the boys are visiting their family, or the family is coming to visit them, they try their best to be as vague as possible about their fights, they keep on their gloves the entire time so that their family doesn’t see the battle scars. Their father has spotted them a couple of times, he try’s not to make a big scene because he knows his wife will make an even bigger one if she saw them, so he just slaps them behind the heads and tells them to be more careful and not be idiots while saving the kingdom/ world. Their niece would come over and visit on her school holidays, so she would inevitably see the scars, so she’s been told to keep quiet about them so as to not give her great aunt (the boys bother) a heart attack.

When their niece does come to visit she enjoys seeing the princess, one time she was lucky enough to take part in go karting when the event lined up with her stay. She likes to hang out with Toad, and I think she would grow to become friends with the Koopalings when they are around at Peaches castle, I have a feeling she would be the closest with Ludwig

Mario and Luigi get into sibling squabbles all the time, they love each over dearly but you know they insult each over when alone:

Mario: Luigi you’re looking extra ugly today. What did you do? Get a shower? Your skin looks like it’s melting off like the wicked witch of the west

Luigi: Look who’s talking you red bowling ball, you look like a love child between Danny DaVitto and Golem from lord of the rings, who’s very existence makes god weep knowing he has to look at your face when you die

Mario: We have almost the same face you you dried out celery stick

Luigi: You’re the one that started it ‘jump man’

Anyways I hope you liked this rambling of ideas

#super mario #mario bros #luigi nintendo #luigi #mario movie #luigi super mario #Mario #mario nintendo #mario and luigi #princess peach #mario headcanons #headcanon #koopalings #my headcanons

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Winter Rose

A Batter Up One Shot

Pairing: Baseball player Joel Miller x Female Reader Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Summary: It's cold and you're all alone in New York, Joel changes that. Warnings: smut, tub masturbation shenanigans, sex toy use Words: 2,400 A/N: Once I saw @morallyinept's challenge I knew I had to make it Baseball Joel being stupid sweet. Please note this takes place a couple of months after Golden Corral. Thank you to @jennaispunk for her read through!

Masterlist Playlist

⚾️⚾️⚾️

You don’t know if you’ll ever get used to winter in New York. Bitter winds, gray skies, piles of dirty snow sitting on the curb. You long for Texas, groaning every morning when you check the weather and see Austin is over twenty degrees warmer than New York. Of course you know the real reason why you long more for Texas these days… Joel’s there.

Fifty degree days, wrapping yourself up in Joel’s flannel when it gets chilly at night, sunlight, the way his skin looks in the sun, Whataburger fries with spicy ketchup, Joel’s hand on your knee as you sit in the drive-thru, your favorite honey latte from Jo’s, the taste of black coffee on his tongue. God, you miss him. 

Isn’t that what your whole relationship was based around… missing each other? Your job kept you in New York while Joel’s training regimen and daughter kept him in Austin. You were at least headed to see him in two weeks… two long weeks.

——

Joel’s typical ringtone makes you smile as you pick your phone up from your desk.

“Hey, didn’t expect to hear from you until this evening, what’s up?” You smile and lean back in your chair.

“Wanted to hear your voice. Did you tell me you had plans tonight?” 

“Nope, my plan was to talk to you and eat my left over eggplant parm.”

“Okay, good. Looking forward to seeing you later sweetheart.”

“I’ll have my iPad charged.”

“I know you will. I’ll see you around seven.”

“Works for me. This was a nice lunch surprise. Thanks for calling.”

“Course. So, I’ll see you at seven in your living room?”

“…Unless I’m in another room.”

“Be in your living room.”

“Whatever you say Joel.” 

“I love you sweetheart, see you then.”

“Can’t wait.”

“I really can’t either. Seven sharp.”

“Seven sharp. Love you.”

——

You don’t know how other long distance couples existed before FaceTime and free long distance calling. Most of your nights now exist of setting your iPad or MacBook on your coffee table and watching TV while Joel’s handsome face keeps you company. Sure, you enjoy random nights out with friends and coworkers but you still count down the time until you can walk home, press the little camera icon on your home screen and call Joel.

The rush of receiving your nightly call is what you wait all day for. Your heart beats faster, your face breaks out into a large grin, your body thrums with excitement whenever you get to hit the ANSWER button. 

You feel those feelings now.

Joel’s face appears on your iPad but… he’s outside.

“Hi! Where are you?”

You hear a horn honk in the distance through the speakers, the same horn you hear outside your window. 

Joel smiles but doesn’t say a thing as he turns around… and your apartment building is behind him. 

“Hi baby,” he winks, “got something for you. Can I come up?” 

You don’t know if you’ve ever smiled this wide before. “What? Yes! Oh my god!”

“Be right up,” his smile is just as big as yours as he ends the call. 

It takes six minutes to get from your apartment’s entrance to your floor. Joel knows your code, he walks quickly and efficiently. You’ll see him in four.

You run to your door and open it, rushing down the hallway waiting for him at the elevator. You don’t care if you’re out in the middle of the hallway only wearing Joel’s oversized sweatshirt and a pair of underwear, if you’re by the elevator, you’ll get to see him quicker.

The elevator dings, the golden doors open, Joel’s hidden behind a giant bouquet of white foxgloves and peonies. 

“Surprise,” he peeks above the massive plume of flowers. The sight of him lights up your entire world. 

“Hi! Oh my god! Hi! Ho—Why? How?!” You shout in disbelief. He’s right in front of you, in your building. 

He walks out of the elevator shifting the flowers to the side and giving you a kiss. It’s the first time you’ve touched him in two very long weeks. He pulls away and smiles your favorite dimple appearing smile. 

“Was able to escape for a few days under the ruse of Winter Meetings being held here.”

“Wow,” your face hurts from how big you’re smiling, “I—remind me to cancel brunch tomorrow. Oh my god! How long are you here?” 

“I’ve got three days, I fly out Monday morning.”

“Three daaaaaays,” you sing as you turn to head back to your front door. Joel following closely behind you.

“Three days.”

——

“They’re beautiful, thank you again,” you bend over and run your hands across the soft petals of the flowers sitting on your coffee table. 

“You’re welcome baby, I remember you said you loved foxgloves and peonies before,” his hand begins to rub your back as you lean forward. He’s always listening.

You turn back to him, he’s sitting on your couch, the same couch you thought you’d be laying on all alone tonight. You hate how good he looks in your spaces, how it’s always such a temporary stay for him, how you know that there’s only a little over two days with him. 

You didn’t eat dinner alone tonight, you got to sit next to Joel at your table and share a meal while he kept his hand on your knee the whole time. He helped you load the dishwasher before lifting you up on the countertop and eating you out as you screamed into your kitchen towel. Your space feels so complete with him in it.  

You pluck a peony from the bouquet and sit back against Joel bringing the flower to your nose. 

“I love the way peonies smell,” you inhale, “and now I get to smell them with my boyfriend.” You turn your head to smell his neck. “You always smell so good.” 

Joel lets a deep chuckle out as you run the flower along his neck.

“There,” you tuck the flower behind his ear, “I always liked the color white against your skin, makes it look even more golden.” 

“Mm, I like whatever color you wear, I know we’ve established that, but,” he takes the flower out from behind his ear, “I’d like to see what this looks like against your skin.”

Joel puts the flower against your cheek.

“I knew it, s’beautiful,” he smiles, “but I want to see how it looks against you here,” he places the flower against your chest, “here,” against your stomach, “here,” against your thigh, “and most importantly,” he places the flower in between your legs, “here.” 

His eyes darken as he drags the flower back up your body. 

“Go ahead ’n get naked for me baby, I need to see.” 

You stand off the couch, quickly shucking your clothes. You love the way Joel looks at you when you’re naked, whether it’s when you’re two inches or two thousand miles away from him, he always looks like he wants to devour your whole body.

“Mm, s’a good girl,” he nods sitting back against the couch. “Get a flower from the bouquet I brought you.”

You bend over and grab another white peony bringing it to your nose to smell the sweet floral scent as your eyes don’t break contact with Joel’s. 

“Lemme see how it looks against your skin.”

You run the smooth petals against your cheek down your chin, past your neck to your breasts. 

Joel lets out a low groan as you circle your nipple with the bloom before trailing it down your stomach. 

“Look at you baby girl, so beautiful.”

Your whole body blooms much like the flower against your skin at his praise. 

“Go lower, lemme see how that white flower looks against your pretty pink pussy.”

Fuck, the way Joel Miller’s soft, deep voice husks out the word pussy. It drives you crazy, it makes another gush of slick rush out of your cunt. You run the flower down your hips and across your thighs, running it along your folds before lifting a foot up and placing it on his knee. 

“That’s a good girl, look at that pussy.”

God, that word and the way he licks his lips as he watches you run the flower along your wet cunt makes your knees weak. It’s so soft and delicate against your sensitive skin, it reminds you of Joel’s tongue, lightly tickling your folds.

“Fuck baby girl,” he leans forward, “give me that flower.”

You hand Joel the flower, you love how the bloom looks in his large calloused hand; something so soft and held within the hands of a large, strong man. He brings the flower up to his nose. 

“Christ, it smells so fucking good, like pretty little flowers and your wet pussy.” He puts the flower behind his ear and stands. “Now, I got something else for you babygirl, close your eyes and wait here, it’s going to be bit so be a good girl and be patient for me, okay?”

You nod and shut your eyes as Joel leaves a kiss on your forehead. 

He’s here with you, in your apartment tonight, he flew halfway across the country to be with you… and now you’re standing naked and alone with only the sound of his retreating footsteps filling the air of your home. What in the world does he have planned?

——

How long will he make you wait? It’s been over five minutes, you may have cheated and checked the clock. 

“Eyes still closed?”

“Yes.”

Your body thrums with anticipation as his footsteps approach.

“Sorry it took so long,” Joel hugs you from behind, “but I think you’re going to like this. Been thinking about this since I got on the plane this morning,” he whispers into your ear. “Now, open your eyes and go to your bathroom.”

You blink your eyes open, realizing nothing has changed in the room. 

“Did I really need to have my eyes closed Joel?”

“No,” he chuckles, “but it adds anticipation, now go.” 

He smacks your ass as you pull away, heading for your room. 

Your room is left as it was, nothing askew besides Joel’s open bag sitting on the floor. You open the bathroom door, Joel’s been busy. 

The tub is filled, white petals float on the surface while a candle sits on the edge casting a flicking aureate glow on the water. 

“Get in baby,” Joel whispers in your ear.  

“What about you?” 

“Not tonight, want to watch you.” 

You walk over to the tub, Joel, always the gentleman, reaches his hand out to help you step in. The heat of the warm water feels good against your chilled skin as you sink down. A small moan leaves your mouth as you lean back against the tub wall and get comfortable. 

“S’nice?” He asks, his eyes watching your every move.

“Mm, very. Haven’t had a bath in a long time. Thank you.”

“I’m doing this for me baby, you look like an ancient goddess taking a bath in your pretty flower petals,” he scoots your vanity bench up to the side of the tub and sits down. “Here,” he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small red rose shaped device. “Ordered this for when you miss my tongue but I wanted to watch you try it out for me.”

“What is it?” 

“It’s a rose,” he leans over and dips his hand into water placing it against your thigh, “it goes…” his fingers caresses up to the apex of your thighs as you instinctively spread your legs, his finger dips in and grazing against your clit, “here.” His deep brown eyes burn into yours as you gasp at the contact, the hazel flecks shining in the candlelight as he rubs a thick circle around your sensitive flesh. 

“If you just keep doing that, I won’t need your gift,” you moan. 

“My gift is watching you use my gift,” he winks pulling his hand out. “Now,” he turns the toy on, “I’m going to show you how to use it, ’n then I’m going to let you take care of yourself while I watch, okay?” “Yes.”

“That’s my good girl, ready?” 

You nod as he leans forward, the soft buzz of the toy disappears as he reaches back down into the water and places it against your clit.

Christ, it feels good. Your muscles are already so relaxed from the warm water, but the feeling of the little red latex rose sucking against your sensitive bundle of nerves makes you spark with desire. It doesn’t compare to Joel’s mouth on you, but fuck, it’s a great second place. 

“Fuuuuck,” you blissfully smile.

“That’s it baby, knew you’d like this, feel good?”

“So fu—good,” you moan, gripping the edges of the tub as your body begins to squirm in the water.

“Here, take it, wanna sit back and watch.”

You reach down and replace his hand with yours, pressing down, the suction pulsing harder against your clit causing a shiver across your body. 

“Fuck!” Your voice echoes across the tile as you rock the toy back and forth. 

“That’s right babygirl, I think you like my gift, don’t you?”

“Yessss,” you moan, you’re so close already. It feels so fucking good.

“That’s it baby, look how quick this is making you cum, glad I couldn’t resist getting a taste of you and ate your pussy earlier, or it would have been even more instant, huh?”

“Jooooel,” you clutch his shirt with your soaked hand pulling him forward and kissing him. “Let me cum, please,” you whimper against his lips, “please let me cum.” 

“I’m not stopping you baby,” he gently bites your lower lip, “cum for me pretty girl. Lemme see you cum for me.” 

He leans back, the sight of his now wet shirt from your hand causes your orgasm to tumble into you, his name spills out of your lips over and over, much like the water escaping the tub as your body tremors through the wave of your release. Your hands unclench from the toy, the red rose ascending to float on the water along with the white petals. 

“That’s my good girl, you came so good for me,” Joel breathes against your forehead leaving a kiss against it. “Did you like your flowers?” 

“I like anything you give me.”

#joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller/reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #baseball au #baseball joel #batter up #jettsflora&faunachallenge

[aikofanfan]

Softer side of a Feral/Protective MC

Thirteen sees a softer side to you. For a moment. 💜

A/n: I haven’t had much personally interaction with Thirteen but she won me over in the HDD event so I figured I’d give it a crack at writing her!

Pairing: Gn!MC x Thirteen

Warnings: None huzzah!

“Sorry I’m not good at this kind of stuff so they wouldn’t be much help to you.” Raphael sighs and Thirteen huffs. The reaper walks away and scrolls through her DDD and stops.

“Hm I could ask them.” She mumbles and thinks for a moment. “Ah but they could end up being a stick in the mud. They are always around Lucifer.”

She thinks about it some more before tapping the messages and sending some texts.

She blinks. Once. Twice.

“What.” She whispers before shaking her head and types more.

She smiles. Hmph. That was easier than she expected but oh well it does in turn make her life easier.

~~~~~

“Thirteen!” You jog over to the reaper when school is done and hand her your curses and hexes notebook. “There you go! No need to hurry with them I’m doing pretty well in that class.”

She laughed at your confident stance and smile as she puts away the notebook in her bag.

“Thanks and remember I wasn’t playing hooky!” She says, poking you on the nose.

“Hey hey I get it. You’re a reaper that’s also going to RAD. In fact I think it’s pretty cool you can do so much and still shrug it off.” You smiled and she blinks at you. The way you smiled at her and the small sparkle in your eyes.

“You really are a descendant of an Angel huh.”

“What was that?”

“I said be careful or I might snatch you away from the boys.” She ruffles up your hair and you whine, saying Asmo is gonna give you an earful since he had helped you with it that morning. “I hear all these stories of how your oh so scary but I don’t see it.”

She pinches your cheek and you whine some more. Honestly how can someone this kind and -though she’ll never admit it out loud- cute be the big bad scary human sorcerer in training she’s heard so much about. She lets you go after awhile, snickering as you rub your cheek with a pout.

“This is the thanks I get huh?” You fake sniffle before feeling her kiss your cheek. Heat raises to your face as you gawk at her.

“I’ll see you later.” She says and walks away, leaving you in shock.

A few weeks later the reaper is looking up and down for you after classes let out to give back your notes.

“Oi knuckle head.” Thirteen says as she walks over to Solomon. “Where’s MC?”

Rather than answer he points and her eyes follow to the scene in front of them.

“Get off of me!” Mephistopheles shouts, barely dodging your punches.

“Then leave us alone! What we do outside of school has nothing to do with you walking eggplant!” You snap at him, eyes flaming green. The two of you struggle a bit more till Solomon and the reaper beside him had enough and pull you off.

“Whoa whoa hey!” Thirteen gasps as you growl and thrash a little in their hold. “Easy there, MC there’s no getting through to this guy.”

“Hey! You should be helping me!” Mephistopheles gasped.

“And we did. And we could just as easily let them go too.” Thirteen retorts. “Now beat it.”

The demon scoffs and dusts himself off before walking away. You calm down and the two let you go once you do.

“Uh sorry.” You sheepishly laugh and Solomon bonked you on the head.

“We really need to get a hold of your temper.” Your mentor sighed.

“I dunno I dig it.” Thirteen grins. She gets lightly shoved by Solomon and laughs.

“Don’t encourage them.” He comments. She helps you to your feet and hands back the notebook you let her borrow.

“You are a strange human.” She comments as she watches that switch in your head flip. From the growling and angered human to the angelic person she saw weeks ago came back.

“I get that a lot.” You smile and she pinched both of your cheeks, making you squeak and yelp as she tugs on them.

“Maybe I should take you under my wing since these dorks can’t tame your temper.” She jokes and freezes when you take a hold of her hands.

“Is that a promise?” You ask. “Cuz this strange human might just become protective of you as well.”

“I just might take my chances.” She challenged.

“Did you two forget I’m right here?” Solomon sighed but neither of you paid him any mind.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me mc #obey me thirteen #obey me solomon #obey me mephistopheles #thirteen x mc #thirteen x gn mc #obey me drabble

[astra90x]

Flufftober Day 15 - Accidents Don’t Just Happen Accidentally

@flufftober

Fandom: Stardew Valley

Pairing: Sebastian x Reader

Word Count: 2002

Reader Pronouns: She/Her

Warnings: Cursing

This is one chapter of an entire linear story! It can be read separately but is better when read as a whole. Enjoy!

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Every morning, after checking over your crops, your next stop is always to head to your barn. It’s been a few months since you got your first cow, and now you’re the proud owner of three (two brown, one white) and even a goat. You spend about a half hour milking them all, making sure they’re fed, and giving them the love they deserve. Even though they can’t be considered “pets,” you love them as if they were. 

You get to the barn a little later in the morning than you usually do, since you had to collect some of your eggplants and put them away, so the cows are even more excited to see you than usual. The goat is still warming up to you as you’ve only had her for a few weeks, but she still trots over to sniff curiously at your feet before prancing away again. 

“Sorry I’m late, ladies,” you say as you drag your stool and bucket over from the corner of the barn. “I hope you guys are ready to be milked.” 

One of your cows, Lola, moos softly at you, so you take that as a sign that she wants to be first and set the stool up next to her. You give her a few pats first and then start to knead her udders to make the milk spurt out. 

You’re halfway through the process when you hear a knock on the door of the barn. Glancing back, you see Sebastian. Not exactly the optimal time for him to see you, while you’re wearing your dirty work overalls and are covered in the spray of cow milk, but it’s nice to see him anyway. 

“Hey, what are you doing here?” you ask, directing your voice towards him but turning your attention back to milking the cow before she gets too impatient. 

“Just wanted to see what you were up to today, thought maybe I could stop by and get a sample of farm life,” replies Sebastian. “Am I interrupting anything?”

“Not at all, you’re free to come in if you want to.” You squeeze the cow’s udders one final time and then give her a light pat on her haunch to let her know that she’s free to go. “Just don’t close the door behind you, the inside latch is broken so it’ll lock from the outside.” Sebastian nods and heads inside, crouching down next to you on the stool so he’s close to your eye level. 

“You do this every morning?” he asks as you stand up from your stool and lead the next cow over. 

“Yup! It’s hard work, but it’ll keep my income steady during the winter when I can’t grow crops, and these animals are like my family.” You stroke the cow standing in front of you as you sit down again, then get to work milking. Sebastian watches curiously. 

“This doesn’t hurt them?” he asks, watching your fingers work on the udders. 

“Not at all,” you respond. “Would you like to give it a go? It’s easy once you get the hang of it.” 

“Oh, um, sure.” You stand up and gesture to the stool, where Sebastian sits and looks at the cow in front of him, seeming completely lost. “Do I just… pull?”

“Don’t pull, squeeze.” Leaning forward over Sebastian’s shoulder, you demonstrate how he should be moving his hands. Then, to get him started, you gently take hold of his fingers and show him where to place them. He starts to follow your instructions and lets out a gasp when the milk squirts out and splatters all over him. 

“You might want to aim a little further down,” you say, unable to suppress your laughter. Sebastian rolls his eyes but tries again, this time managing to get (most of) the milk into the pail. 

You’re so distracted watching Sebastian milk the cow that you’re half a second too late to notice creaking from behind you. You turn just in time to see your beloved Lola nudging the barn door shut with her nose, locking it from the outside. 

“Lola!” you scream, but it’s already too late. She looks over at you curiously with her big, dark eyes, acting as if she didn’t just trap you inside your barn. Sebastian has stopped milking his cow, and he’s now staring, mouth slightly agape, at the closed door. 

“That’s bad,” he says simply. You spin around to look at him, panic evident on your face.

“Please tell me you brought your phone.” 

Sebastian shoves his hands into his hoodie pocket, but his face falls. “Shit, it was dead, so I left it at home.”

“Mine is in the house, I never take it out with me when I’m doing chores,” you say. “Fuck!”

“Take a deep breath, we’re going to be fine,” assures Sebastian. “It’s a small town, someone’s going to notice we’re gone and come looking at some point.” 

“Yeah, you’re right. I need to calm down.” You close your eyes and take a deep breath in. You’re going to be okay. 

“I can try the door if you want. See if I can jimmy it open,” suggests Sebastian. You don’t think there’s much point, but you nod, so Sebastian gets up and heads to the entrance of the barn. You, meanwhile, still have to get your cows milked, so you sit down on the stool and focus your energy on your chores. 

You finish the third cow (the goat is still too young to be milked, so no need to worry about her) right as Sebastian comes back from the door, shaking his head. 

“No luck. I tried shifting the door to reach the latch outside but it won’t open enough.”

“It’s okay, thanks for trying.” You give the third cow a light pat and she saunters away, heading to the trough in the back to get a snack for herself. “I’m really sorry you’re stuck in here.”

“It’s not your fault, no need to be sorry,” replies Sebastian. “We just have to make the best of it, right?” 

“Right.” You take note that Sebastian is still standing, and you lift yourself off the stool, gesturing to it. “You can sit if you want, I’m okay to stand.”

“Even though I spend most of the day in front of a desk, I’m still capable of standing,” he responds, his tone humourous. Instead of taking the stool, he walks over to one of your cows and asks, “Can I pet her?” 

“Of course! She likes being scratched around her ears the most.” Sebastian brings both hands up and starts to stroke the cow behind her ears. She closes her eyes and leans into him with a look of bliss on her face. It’s pretty adorable, how happy they both look.

Meanwhile, you spot Lola laying down on the floor on the other side of the barn, so you walk over to her and lower yourself to the ground, using her large body as a backrest. She turns to look at you when you sit down and you stroke her neck, smiling a little. 

“I forgive you, Lola, I know you didn’t mean to lock us in here,” you say. She moos at you in response, almost like she understands. 

You hear footsteps and look up in time to see Sebastian sitting on the floor to your left, leaning against Lola as well. He drums his fingers on his knees but doesn’t say anything, even though he looks like he wants to. 

“I just remembered that Elliott is supposed to be coming over for lunch, so we’ll probably only be in here a few more hours,” you say. Sebastian nods. 

“I wasn’t super worried,” he replies. “I could be doing worse things today than hanging out with you and some cows.” He reaches back and strokes Lola, a look of contentment on his face. 

“I think she likes you,” you note, to which Lola moos in response. You rub the space between her ears and smile fondly at her. 

How does she respond? By leaning her head in and giving you a hard shove with her nose, pushing you right into Sebastian. 

Even though the push wasn’t too forceful, it catches you off guard enough that you topple over, landing half in Sebastian’s lap. He jerks slightly in surprise but still manages to break your fall with his arms. 

“Oh my goodness, I’m sorry, Sebastian,” you apologize, pushing yourself off of him and shooting a dirty glare in Lola’s direction. “I have no idea what’s gotten into her, she usually doesn’t misbehave this much.” 

Sebastian doesn’t get a chance to respond because Lola flicks her tail at Sebastian, hitting him hard in the arm and causing him to recoil enough that he almost falls on top of you, too. You’re sitting close enough now that your thighs and shoulders are brushing together. 

“Lola!” you scold. “What is with you today!?” She moos softly again, craning her neck to prod you with her nose once more. The coldness of it naturally makes you move away, pushing you even further into Sebastian. 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she’s trying to push us together,” Sebastian says. Though his words seemed to cause no reaction within him, you instantly feel blood rising in your cheeks. Looking back at Lola, you’re suddenly a little intimidated by the intelligence you see behind her eyes. 

“She’s just being naughty,” you reply. “I’m sorry, once again.”

“It’s alright, I don’t mind.” Sebastian’s hands are still on his knees, something that you only notice when your fingers brush against his. His hand stiffens slightly, and he says, “You’re freezing.” 

It is pretty cold in the barn since it’s a chillier day outside and you haven’t had a chance to buy a heater from Marnie for the upcoming winter. Plus, you’re only wearing a t-shirt under your overalls, since you usually work up quite a sweat doing your farm work. 

“I guess I’m a bit cold.” You bring up your hands to rub your arms, trying to generate heat, but it doesn’t work as well as you hoped it would. And now that you’ve noticed the cold, it’s impossible to ignore. 

“That’s not going to work, you know,” says Sebastian. “Come here.” 

You’re not sure what Sebastian means by that until you feel him shift next to you, and his sweatered arm makes its way around your shoulders. He pulls his hoodie down over his hand and uses it to rub some warmth back into your skin, doing the same with his other hand and your left arm. 

You think your face might actually be on fire. 

The feeling of Sebastian so close to you, cradling you in the way he is to try and warm you up, it just feels so… intimate. You allow yourself the pleasure of closing your eyes and leaning in a little closer until your cheek falls onto Sebastian’s chest. He takes a breath, surprised, but it’s half a second before he relaxes again and continues to run his hands up and down your arms. 

It’s so comforting, so safe, to be like this, that you barely even notice yourself growing tired until you drift off to sleep. 

~~~

When Elliott opens the barn door a few hours later, wondering where you had gone, he’s surprised to find not only you, but Sebastian as well, leaning against a cow by the far wall of the barn. Not only that, but all three of you, cow included, are asleep. Elliott smiles a little to himself. 

He figures he can always come back another day for lunch, so he grabs a rock, props the door open, and leaves again. But he can’t shake the expressions he saw on both yours and Sebastian’s faces. Though you were both asleep, it was impossible to deny the affection that was clearly there. Elliott knows a budding relationship when he sees it. 

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#flufftober2022 #day 15 #stardew valley #sdv sebastian #stardew valley sebastian #x reader

[headoverhiddles]

Gut Für Dich - Part II - Oli x Reader x Schneider [Rammstein]

Daddy kink, dirty talk, rough groupie sex, threesome. By commission for @bloodandglittertastessobitter​! HAVE FUN SEEING THE BOYS THIS WEEKEND BABE!!!!!!!!

Your phone buzzes, and you know who it is even before you look down.

Oli Reidel sent a photo.

Unable to keep the stupid grin off your face, you swipe and open whatever he's sent. It's a photo of him with one hand smoothing over his head, out for a run on the beach in Italy, where they're playing right now. You still can't believe you got the number of Rammstein's bassist, but the more you think about it, the more sense it makes-- you did give those two the night of their lives. That changes your smile a little to a dreamier one as you think of the man you're not in as close contact with: Schneider. He pops into your thoughts now and then when you're thinking of that night, and it never fails to light a fire inside you.

But, you're not about to ignore the prime bachelor on the screen in your hands either. Paying special attention to noting Oli's clothes, you see he's got a tight shirt, hoodie, and grey sweatpants on. Fuck. Grey sweatpants.

You're dressed for winter, you tease him back by text.

It's cold by the beach, he writes back almost immediately.

A few seconds later, a snowman emoji comes in. You shake your head, giggling.

Well, I enjoy the view of your [eggplant emoji] in those sweatpants.

You don't get a response this time-- you assume he's blushing, tucking his phone away, and finishing his run. An idea creeps into your mind as you get up and peel your clothes off. You had just come home from work, and it felt good to strip. Wouldn't Oli like to see? It's only fair, if he got to tease you.

You snap a quick photo, making it look like an effortless pose. It exposes your cleavage in your bra (a little more skin than Oli had showed you) but it would be effective. You send it off, biting your lip, and laugh as you get an immediate response back.

Scheiße.

-You like?

Mhm.

-Have some more.

You take another photo of your hair swept back, bra strap falling down your shoulder. To your delight, Oli finally indulges you with a photo back. You nearly moan. He's holding the outline of his cock through those sweatpants, in public.

Have to find a cafe to cool down from the run, he texts.

From the run, you think with a smirk, sure. You wait a few minutes, and get another text from him.

Send another?

This time, you're a little more daring. You send a picture from the side, thumb barely covering your nipple. Five minutes, and you haven't heard anything back. You continue to undress for your shower, figuring he's probably grabbing a shakerato or something and settling in. Then you get a video notification. Eagerly opening it, your breath catches. Oli's got his cock in his hand, stroking slowly. It's filmed from above, so you can see his face as he licks his lips and furtively looks around to make sure no one is watching.

He's still on the beach in the video, and he rocks back and forth from his heels to his toes in the sand. Your pussy clenches as he jerks a little faster, getting a pace going. His eyes close, and that normally stoic face of his screws up a bit. His mouth falls open, and he seems to be mouthing 'bitte' as he tugs his long cock.

Finally, he bites his bottom lip hard and brings the camera down to catch the cum shot, which spills onto his hand and the sand. His deep breathing and groaning suddenly remind you that you're close just from watching the video, and realize you'd started rubbing yourself through your panties. Oli's finger comes up to catch the last few drips of cum, and you feel a short and sweet orgasm wash over you, quickly replaced by a deep yearning to see the bassist again.

You get a picture not long after, interrupting your shock. Oli is looking at the camera over a cup of coffee.

I am at the cafe now. Enjoy?

You type back.

If I could call you right now, you could hear how much I enjoyed.

Ah, yes. The long distance. Expensive. 

He sends back a crying face, which you have to laugh at. You take a photo of your fingers slipping down into your panties, and write:

They're drenched, daddy.

Good, he writes back, and you raise your eyebrows. You would have never guessed the quiet man would have such a dirty, dominant side.

All for you. 

-I should hope so. 

You bite your lip.

Also Schneider.

A pause. 

You miss the two of us at once, don't you schatze? Greedy, greedy. 

You exhale shakily, and try to steer the conversation back to relatively innocent territory-- you have to save some action for the next time you see the tall bassist.

How is he? You text.

Keeping busy. Out seeing the city, I think. He likes to sightsee with Paul.

Hm. You imagine what Christoph is wearing today. He's got long hair now, and he probably puts it up on hot days. You think about putting your own hair up, then think of the reason for doing it.

I can't wait to taste you, you write back, going straight for the gut punch.

Planning to soon?

-You never know who you'll find in Deutschland ;)

You look over your shoulder, where your plane and concert ticket are to see the boys in Munich next week. You slip your legs beneath you on the bed, sighing coyly. It's going to be hard keeping this one a secret.

There are Rammstein advertisements everywhere. Billboards in Deutsch remind you of the show you're going to, and you understand the language enough to know they're talking about those who you've become particularly acquainted with. It also helps that this is close to their home, (relatively, even though Berlin is much farther north) but even just being in Germany, you can sense the pride and buzzing excitement around the upcoming show. You feed off of these feelings, excited to see them in person again after keeping in touch for so long.

The show is tonight, so you have to get ready. Checking into your hotel, you get into the bathroom and shower, do your makeup, get dressed just how you like, and pull out your phone.

- Where are you?

Oli writes back immediately. Because of this, you know he's bored. Aimlessly playing soccer behind the stadium before the show starts in 4 hours. Why?

-Have a car come pick me up?

His excitement is palpable even through the response you get, and soon, you're in the car sent by the band's security. When you get there, you're issued a complimentary pass by the Theaterkasse, and escorted backstage. Oli grabs you when he sees you, leaning down to bury his face in your shoulder. Leaving a kiss there where no one can see, he pulls back, and introduces you to a few of the roadies wondering what the hell is going on, and who the hell you are. 

"A close friend," he introduces you with that stoic smile of his, and you're just fine with that. At this point, the show is getting close to starting.

"Where are the others?" you ask, still a little intimidated being backstage at a huge stadium in a foreign country. Oli cocks his head, and puts you at ease with an arm around your waist.

"Paul went out to greet the Feuerzone, twenty minutes ago. Till is in his trailer with girls, Flake is still getting ready because he leaves everything to the last minute, Richard is on the computer making music, and Schneider is probably tapping away practicing in the artist area."

"Wow," you nod. "Didn't expect such a well estimated answer." Oli cracks a smile.

"We have done this together as brothers and bandmates for a couple of decades now. I think we all know each other's comfortable routines." He looks at the watch on his wrist, comparing it to the giant hanging industrial clock everyone seems to be referencing back here. "I have to go. The cart will be coming, and the others will be coming by car soon to go up on stage." He takes your hands. "I will see you later, yes?"

You smile up at him. "You didn't think I'd come all this way and not put out, did you?" You actually manage to pull a surprised laugh out of the tall man as he bounds away to find his other bandmates.

You get caught up talking to another roadie for a while, the conversation putting you more at ease backstage, until you hear the sound of deep, booming laughter. Turning, you see a golf cart with all 6 of the boys piled onto it. Till is gesturing heartily and shouting in German, and Paul is giggling at whatever he's saying. Ever the perfectionist, Richard is plucking at his guitar strings and making sure the roadies tuned it right, and Flake is bopping his head to imaginary music that only he can hear in his head. That's when the two of you lock eyes.

Schneider looks stunned to see you. His lips part momentarily as he takes you in, before he's ripped away, the cart driving past you. Till gives a little wave, recognizing you, but Christoph can't move. You can only describe that intense gaze he had given you as one blunt, uncouth word that comes to mind: horny.

Though it's hard to do through the distance and front most members of the band on the stage, you make eye contact with Schneider most of the show. Every time he beats that drum, you remember him in the hotel room with you and Oli. Side stage, beer is available by the keg, and you take advantage of it. It's a paradox: the more you drink, the thirstier you become.

Each song plunges you deeper into relative discomfort, constantly rotating your hips as if it would give you some relief. You hadn't been this close to both of them at once since the hottest night of your life, and of course, your body remembers. It's a sexually charged performance tonight no doubt, and they couldn't look more sexy.

Besides the fact that you're itching to feel two pairs of hands all over you, you manage to thoroughly enjoy your favorite band as a whole. A few songs before the end of the show, you feel a hand on your arm. Jolted out of your awe as if it was the first time, you turn to see a security guard waiting for you. He offers his arm to you, and you follow through the dark.

"Oliver will meet you back at the artist zone," the guard informs you, and his stern manner is the direct opposite of the elation you feel. After being shuttled to the zone where the band's trailers are, you're invited in to wait in the grassy area to sit and relax while the boys take their showers in their respective trailers.

"It feels like it has been a long time."

You turn, and find Christoph, dressed in some black slacks without a shirt. He's drying off his chest with a towel still, shoulder length curls soaked. You tear your eyes off of his body and look up into his blue eyes.

"I thought of you," you tell him. A smirk morphs into a chuckle.

"I thought of you too." He runs a hand through his hair. "More than once." Paul walks out of his trailer in a comfortable hoodie and jeans, and looks between you two. Nodding once, he takes a seat on a sofa between you and relaxes back.

"Ahhh. Would anyone like herbal tea and biscuits?"

"Herbal tea?" Christoph laughs. "Have you become so comfortable in your twilight years that you no longer drink?"

"Twilight years?" Paul giggles. "Are you planning to murder me?"

Schneider mutters a "ja, tee danke" and you sit down opposite the two of them. That's when Oli comes out of his own trailer. The sound of Till's private party going on in his own trailer at the end of the zone makes for comfortable background noise as you, Oli and Schneider look at one another. Paul is humming to himself as he busies himself making tea, completely oblivious. Or so you think.

"Hm. I can feel the staring," Paul murmurs, not looking up from his task. "I know I am short, so thankfully, you are staring over me." The three of you barely hear him, Oli slightly adjusting in his seat and shifting his posture. Christoph's breath catches. Your exhale is audible. "Aha," Paul finally speaks, pouring his drink and standing. "Here is the tea, serve yourselves, alles gut, guten nacht. I am going to disappear now. Bye!"

He waves obnoxiously in front of Schneider's face, who finally breaks his stare and bats the arm away in annoyance. A giggle from the little gremlin later, and he's gone back into his trailer to leave you three to your sexual tension. Left alone, Christoph pats both of his thighs, straightening up his back.

"Komm mit. Sit in daddy's lap." Oli watches closely as you get up. Swinging your hips, you climb over the table and give the two men a good view of your ass in shorts as you do, and finally come to sit on Schneider's knee. His left hand comes up to gently stroke up your stomach, cupping your breast from beneath and squeezing. Your head falls back into

"I wanted to do this all show," he whispers in your ear, cutting off into a groan. "I was desperate to feel you, fuck--" He bites his bottom lip, pressing an open kiss to your jaw. "Schatze, I could feel the thrum of the beat down below... when I was seeing you... I... I am..." he takes a deep breath, squeezing your breast again. He's forgetting his English, so you can tell how aroused he is. Oli shifts again, and you notice the heel of his hand digging into his own lap.

"It's okay," you murmur, "You don't have to tell me. Just show me?" You bite your lip. "Please show me how horny I made you, daddy." Schneider bumps you on his knee gently, sliding you back to fit against him. His arms wrap all the way around you this time, and he kisses your cheek in fevered bursts, rocking you down.

"Feel it, little one?"

"Ja," you giggle.

"Such a good girl," Oli says, licking his bottom lip. "I want to see what you've been hiding beneath that shirt."

"You mean these?" you ask, slowly lifting your shirt. Schneider is lost in his own world of touch as you distract Oli with a little strip tease. His eyelids droop as you finally expose all of them, squeezing your full breasts together. Schneider's hands come up to grope them properly, and Oli's chest heaves at the sight.

"Your tits," the bassist nods. "They are amazing. I could see them..." he swallows, his train of thought momentarily derailing, "I could see them bouncing beneath the shirt. I was hoping, when Till asked all the women to lift their shirts..."

"You were hoping I would listen?" you smirk. Schneider growls in your ear, nipping your earlobe.

"No. Till gets enough pussy. You belong to us." Your moan bites through the night air.

"What is going on out there?!" a disgruntled Flake shouts from his corner trailer. "Wie ein gottverdammter Porno! Till fucking in his stupid trailer, you two fucking out here on the couch. Ich kann nicht entkommen!! Scheisse, ficken aus!!"

"I don't think we should do this here," the drummer finally says, following this outburst.

"Nein," Oli breathes out in arousal, rubbing a hand over his head. With a tipsy laugh, you get up, Schneider holding your hand and Oli steadying you from behind. They lead you to one of the large security detail SUVs just outside the zone, and help you in, one on either side of you.

"To my hotel, bitte," Christoph instructs the driver. "More appropriate I think, than the trailer."

"More romantic," Oli nods, "Ja, ja."

"Here you are looking for romance," you tease, laughing, "I'm just out here looking to get fucked." Schneider groans, and grabs something from the minibar. He distributes three small bottles of expensive looking vodka. You all prost, clink your tiny bottles, and down them. This goes straight to your head, just enough to completely clear your inhibitions-- if you possessed any before. Your hands find their laps, and you start to rub one on each side. Oli starts to kiss up your neck, and Christoph puts his hand overtop of yours, guiding you on him.

"Touch daddy's cock," Christoph tells you.

"Little slut," Oli breathes.

"Please, daddy," you moan.

"Which one?" Oli asks.

"I want both of you inside of me."

"Be realistic," Christoph says.

"Why?" you whine.

"We are German, we are realists," he groans, squeezing your hand on his tip.

"Fine. I want you to eat my pussy while Oli's balls deep in me."

"Oh, god," Oli moans.

"You'll get what you want, baby girl," Schneider promises. "I am swearing it."

The driver lets you off in front of a ritzy hotel that you don't pay attention to the name of. You walk in with a man on each arm, heels extending your legs from those tiny denim booty shorts. You can feel eyes on you, but Schneider's jealousy protects all your best features from getting ogled too hard-- he whisks you away into the elevator, Oli slotting himself behind you. You grind back against the taller of the two, Oli's hands coming to rest on your ass as he pulls you back and works you against him. 

"What the hell are you waiting for, slut?" Schneider spits. "Get on your knees." You fall down and do as he says, ignoring the pain spreading across your kneecaps. Further scraping them, you inch forward closer to them, and Oli looks at the elevator button. 

"We've got 22 floors to go. Hurry up." Hurried but never sloppy, you make use of your remaining motor skills to unzip both at the same time. You dig into Oli's boxers with your right hand, and let out a small gasp when your left hand comes in contact with warm skin. You glance up at Christoph.

"You think I'd wear anything when I know it's going to come off?" he sneers.

"Whatever happened to the art of the tease?" you smile, wiggling your ass a little before you sit back on your feet. He scoffs.

"Forget teasing. Suck my cock." Grinding down, you take him all the way out. Both men are hard in your hands. You make eye contact with Oli as you give him a quick suck, reveling in the feeling of his dick in your mouth again after all this time. You pop off, kitten licking his tip.

"That good, daddy?"

"Daddy likes that," Oli nods, threading his fingers through your hair. "Mm. Less talk. Get back to work." He shoves your mouth back on his cock, and you focus on breathing through your nose as it touches his lower stomach. Christoph grabs your hair and yanks you back over to him, barely giving you time to breathe before jamming his cock down your throat. You try to continue jerking Oli as Schneider works you up and down himself, swearing and grunting.

"Take it," he snaps, "Take it down your throat, yeah? Good little fraulein." He pulls you off to look at you, and your eyes open blearily, lips parted and swollen with a line of saliva connecting you to his wet cock. "Look at her."

"Gorgeous," Oli whispers.

"I want all your cum all over my face," you blurt, dizzy as hell and loving every second, "I wanna be covered in it."

"Stand up," Christoph says, and you realize the elevator has dinged. Looking back in confusion, you find that the elevator has stopped at floor 19. You quickly wobble to your knees, and Schneider is fast enough to tuck himself back in. Oli isn't as fortunate; he resorts to covering his open fly with both hands clasped in front of him as the door opens and an elderly tourist couple get in.

"Excuse me young man," the lady says to Oli. He looks startled that he's being spoken to, but politely meets her eyes-- if not a little desperately.

"Mhmm?"

"Do you know if the restaurant on the top floor is still open?"

Oli stammers for a moment. "I... I think so, ja."

"I told you it was open, Earl," she mutters to her husband, wagging a wrinkled finger in his face, and her husband cups his ear.

"WHAT DID HE SAY, HELEN?!"

"Open! The restaurant is OPEN!" the old woman practically yells.

"WHAT DID YOU SAY, YOUNG MAN?" the old man yells at Oli. Oli stares straight ahead with burning red cheeks, wishing the elevator would drop to the ground floor and put him out of his misery. Schneider puts a hand on the man's shoulder, mimics eating, and gives two thumbs up.

"I TOLD YOU IT WAS OPEN, HELEN!" You stifle a snorted laugh.

Finally floor 22 comes up, and the three of you make your exit. Oli's hands are on you immediately, as Schneider tugs you in for a messy kiss.

"Why can't we do that with your friend Bill?" Helen asks as the doors close.

"WHAT?!"

Schneider fumbles with the key card at the door, slapping it against the pad nearly 5 times before it finally lights up green. You burst into the room, unable to tell whose hands are whose. Articles of clothing come off, go flying, pool at your feet. When you're sure everyone has undressed, the three of you somehow find your way to the shower, a huge stand-up tiled space with glass walls. Oli hoists you up against Christoph, where you wrap your legs around him in front. Schneider rests back against the wall behind you, pressing kisses down the back of your neck. Oli reaches down, and you feel his fingers slip inside of you, filling you up.

"Such a wet little bitch," he muses, and gently prods your lips open, sliding his fingers into your mouth. You dutifully suck them clean, and Oli fucks your mouth with his fingers for a couple of minutes before reaching down to position himself. When he pounds in, Schneider groans behind you. His own cock is trapped between your back and his stomach, and by the way he's rutting, you can tell he's dying to get inside you.

"Tell Oli what a nice cock he has," Schneider growls in your ear. "Say it, slut."

"Your cock is so big," you mumble, eyes rolling back. Oli draws back then pounds back in, starting up a pace.

"I'm going to fill you with my cum," Oli heaves. He fucks deeper, and Schneider wraps one hand around your neck from behind, biting into your shoulder. You cry out, pain mixing with pleasure, and he squeezes his hand a little tighter around your throat.

"Take my cum," Oli groans, finally holding still deep inside you. "Take it--" He crashes his lips into yours as you feel warmth fill you. Schneider lets you go, instantly taking Oli's place once he takes himself out of your sloppy hole. You nearly scream as Schneider begins to fuck into you mercilessly from behind you.

"You like it when daddy fucks you?" he rasps.

"Yeah!"

"Say it. Tell daddy how full you feel." You let out a moan, and he picks up his bruising pace even more, skin slapping against skin filling the shower space. Oli licks a stripe down your chest from in front, taking a nipple into his mouth and suckling.

"I think, it is no use. She's too much of a whore," Oli tells Schneider. "Can only think of getting pounded in that pretty cunt."

"Is that true?" Schneider asks, reaching around to grab your chin. "Hm?" He gives you a sharp slap, and grabs your chin again. "Speak."

"I need to cu--u--um," you whine. "Please!" This earns you another slap, though you're not certain it's for a good or bad reason.

"Pretty little girl. Tell all of Germany who's fucking you, hm? Scream it out!" Oli continues playing with your breasts as you get louder on command, suckling the other nipple now.

"I'm going to fill you up even more," Schneider growls. "You'd like that? Fill your cunt so nice and full, so you can feel our pleasure dripping out of you later."

"Yeah," is all you can say, and reach back to grab onto the drummer.

"Finish like a good girl," Oli encourages you. He holds your other hand as Schneider stills inside you, adding to the mess as you grind down and finish hard. When Schneider slips out, the three of you slide down to lay on the tiled shower floor. Thankfully, it's large enough for all of you to fit in your sweaty heap of afterglow. Oli makes a feeble swipe at the nozzle, and manages to turn it on, bringing hot water cascading down over you. You let it wash away the filth of the night, feeling right at home between the two men who know exactly how to make you scream.

The hotel staff had upgraded Schneider to a king room based on the sole fact that he was touring with a famous band, so three people were easily able to fit.

"I miss the days of sleeping on the tour bus," Schneider mentions off-handedly. His arm is around you, and your hand is resting against his slowly rising and falling chest.

"Mm," Oli agrees. His hand is stroking hair out of your face on the other side of the bed.

"Isn't this more comfortable?" you ask softly. A laugh comes from beside you.

"A little suffering is good for you," Schneider says, and you can't help but feel a rogue thrill of arousal from that. Oli pats his chest, and you switch to rest your head on his. Schneider slots his knee between your legs, and you sigh. Perfect sandwich.

"Can you cum one more time?" Christoph asks, starting to rub his knee up. "For us?"

"Of course she can," Oli purrs. "She missed us so much. She could cum again and again for us, on command."

"Show us."

You whimper, dragging yourself back against Schneider's knee. You can feel the wet patch you're leaving behind, but you have a feeling he loves it. Oli's fingers come down, touching until they find your clit. You suck a breath in, and the oversensitivity catches up with you. Your orgasm washes over you like a short, refreshing wave, but Oli doesn't stop. This launches you into one more orgasm, the best you've ever had, until you're shaking and your head is spinning. The smell of sex hangs heavy in the air, but it's pleasant. It's a reminder of the dirty night you'd had, finally reuniting with your favorite germans.

"How was that, meine fraulein?" Schneider asks.

"Gut?" Oli asks.

"I never want tonight to end," you smile in satisfaction, and Oli kisses your forehead.

"As far as we are concerned, it doesn't have to meine liebe."

#rammstein #rammstein fanfiction #christoph schneider #christoph schneider x reader #oliver reidel #oli reidel #oliver reidel x reader #rammstein x reader #rammstein imagine

[try-set-me-on-fire]

Truly wip Wednesday this ends in the middle of a sentence and I may cut most of it actually hello from the break room at work

“Oh! Yeah! I mean- No! I- I mean-” Buck shakes his head sheepishly as Tommy leans intoxicatingly close and laughs at — with? about? — him. “I mean, no I’m not doing anything Friday, yes I’d like your number.”

“Okay,” Tommy says, straightening up with a grin and making grabby hands until Buck passes over his phone. He squints down at it for a minute, slowly tapping away with fingers Buck’s suddenly paying close attention to the size of. He wonders if Tommy needs reading glasses, or if he has a different kind of phone, or if he’s like Eddie and just doesn’t like the damn things. He passes it back eventually, and Buck huffs out a laugh at the winky-face Tommy’s texted himself.

“See, I feel like that’s dorky,” Buck says. “Winky-face is like fuck boy maneuver 101.”

“Oh?” Tommy smirks, drinking his beer. “You’d prefer- what, I don’t know what the kids do these days, eggplant emoji?”

Buck coughs, even though he hadn’t even taken a sip to choke on. “Uh- Yeah, I guess so. I meant, like-” he knows he already got red as soon as Tommy said eggplant, and he can feel himself getting redder now because he almost said something like what about a conversation to get to know me first? There’s a hot boy coming onto him and he’s just realized that’s something he’s actually really into and he wants to slow things down and, what, get woo’d? Except he’s thinking about it now and his stomach is flip flopping in a worse way, because while it’s flattering to get chatted up in a bar he hasn’t done the meaningless hook up thing in so long, and- well, pathetically, he thinks Tommy is cool. He would like to get to know him.

And he’s waited too long to keep talking and must have a not-great look on his face because Tommy nods at him, kind of concerned, and asks “You okay?”

Buck takes a little breath. “Sorry,” he says, making nervous little gestures with hands that won't keep still. “Sorry, shit, this is like- ruining the mood, sorry, I know, but- I just want to-” he winces, splays his fingers. “Are you, like, inviting me out as a one night only, get laid and never see each other again kind of thing? Because I- I mean, I would like- I wouldn’t not like that, but- I-I would like to go on a date with you. Maybe more than one, if it works out. I-I-I really can’t believe I’m saying this, but- I think if it’s just sex I might not be interested. I’d rather be your friend.”

“You figured out you like boys maybe three minutes ago and you’re fishing for a long term relationship?” Tommy raises his eyebrows, and he’s smiling a little so Buck knows he’s teasing, but he looks kind of calculating, too. He taps his knuckles against the bar. "I'm not a picket fence kind of guy,

#wip wednesday

[raptorsaurusmelain]

Let me show you... Youtube - chapter 24

I am feeling like Victoria : at the end of the rope.

Warning : no proof reading, English is not my mother tongue.

Trigger warning : once sentence speak about unaliving themselves.

If you are interested in reading this fic, the tag "#twst lmsyy" will give you all the chapters.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Sleep didn’t find her that night. She was in her bath, in warm water, while trying to focus on relaxing. [It decided. Tomorrow I am going to go to Sam’s and try to buy essential oils or stuff like that…]

She lay down in the bath so the water level was under her nose. [I wonder if I can get higher grade antipsychotics or sleeping pills here… It is going to cost a lot of money but I can try seeing a doctor.]

She blew bubbles. [Maybe I should just speak about it to Crewel. He should be able to make a sleeping potion.]

Her alarm rung. She got out of the water and wore her bathrobe. Victoria looked at herself in the mirror. The dark circles were even darker. They seemed eggplant-ish. The woman looked at her concealer. [Nearly empty. I need to buy some. I should ask Sam or Crewel where to buy a good one.]

She decided to wear a black mom high waisted jeans with a black t-shirt. The top had a rose held by a hand with a “Will you marry me ?” written across the shoulders. To complete the look she wore a brown belt with a silver chain hanging from it and some black sneakers.

She looked at herself in the mirror. She was tired and it was visible despite the makeup. Victoria wasn’t just physically tired, she was becoming mentally tired. It was funny how her mental disorder was really 2 extremes. She was so hype that she was physically and mentally drained. [What a life… I wouldn’t even wish for my worst enemy to have this sh*t.]

She prepared breakfast for everyone like always. Yuu arrived in the kitchen, still in PJs and worn out. Yuu said in a little voice. “I don’t feel well today. I don’twant to go to school today…”

Victoria sighed. They both weren’t in good shape today. “Go back to bed after eating a little, I will invent an excuse for you.”

Grim jumped on the occasion. “I don’t want to go to school either !”

The woman grabbed Grim and carried him. “Do you feel sick ?”

She put her hand on his nose. “Mmmmh you don’t seem hot. Aren’t you lying to me young Sir ?”

The demon struggled and said. “Don’t touch my nose like that !”

Victoria had a faint smile. “Grim, it is the only way for me to know if you have a fever. You have fur all over you.”

Grim changed his strategy. “I have a tummy ache !”

She felt his stomach. “It doesn’t seem tense… You are lying young Sir ! You are going to school today and bring me your notes.”

Grim was dejected. He mumbled. “How did she do… Is she a witch ?”

Victoria bent and whispered, making the demon jump. “No, I am even worse… I am your mom, Grim.”

Grim threw his paws in the air. “You’re not my MOOOOOM !! You didn’t give birth to me !”

She patted his head with a smile on her face. “Family isn’t always about blood, but the one you choose.”

They both went to school while Yuu shut themself in their room.

Victoria scratched her head when she was left alone in the corridor, swiping the floor. She was tidying the carpet when suddenly a voice came from nowhere. “Where can I find the toilet, please ?”

Victoria answered without looking. “3rd door on the left.”

She yawned, hearing the footsteps going away. When she looked up, expecting to see someone entering the bathroom, but she saw no one. She frowned. Maybe he was fast ? [He must really have wanted to pee. Oh well, It is none of my business.]

She continued to swipe until recess.

When the students were enjoying their time off. She knocked on Crewel’s door. “Excuse me, Professor Crewel ? I would like to speak with you for a few minutes…”

He looked above his papers. “Dr Devi ? Come in ! What is happening ? … You seem tired.”

She had a faint smile. “Yeah about that… Do you have something to help me sleep ? I can’t sleep well these days.”

Crewel wondered. She truly seemed at the end of the rope. “I can make you a tonic. It won’t substitute a good night of sleep but it will help a bit to put you to sleep.”

Victoria smiled. “Thank you…”

That afternoon, she was going back to her duties when Crowley found her. He seemed quite angry. “Mrs Devi ! I can be gracious and magnanimous but Yuu has to attend classes ! They are already lost in class, they don’t need time off.”

Victoria was annoyed. “What. Did. You. Say ?”

Crowley crossed his arms. “I hope they have a good excuse for not coming to class today !”

Victoria was clearly not having it. “And witnessing an overblot should be a good excuse ?”

Crowley opened his eyes wide, sweating. Seeing him not answering her, she saw red. “So you mean that WE are supposed to act like normal when anybody here can hurt us with their magic like a flick of their wrist ? You want a child that puts their life in danger to go to school ? For F sake where are we ?”

Sweating, Crowley answered. “In Night Raven College ?”

She tilted her head, eyes wide. “Is it for the sake of your quota ? All of that just to have a good class average ? Are you kidding me ?”

She observed him, her eyes beginning to be filled by tears. “You swore it wasn’t going to happen again… You’re just a liar.”

And she ran away.

It was Sam who found her first, crying against his door. “What happened doctor imp ?”

Victoria looked at him through her tears. “I am a bad guardian. I won’t let Yuu attend school today because they witnessed something bad and Crowley hold me responsible for that.”

Sam sighed and pushed the door. “Oh, Leona’s overblot hu ? Come in.”

She heard a voice speak. “You’re the worst.”

She turned around. No one was here.

Sam looked behind him. “What happened ?”

Victoria squinted her eyes. “Nothing… Just the wind, I think.”

He made her an instant hot cocoa. “Are you feeling better ?”

Victoria nodded and blew on her drink. “Yeah, thank you… I just don’t sleep enough those days.”

Sam’s eyes sparkled. Victoria looked at him, unsure. “Yeeees ???”

Sam screamed full of joy “IN STOCK !! A pillow so wonderful you will sleep on it in no time ! And to a discount price of 50 madols !”

She sighed. Today was a long day.

Tag : @boba-tea-fish @hipsterteller

#disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #twst lmsyy #twst fanfic #twst grim #twst crowley #twst wonderland #twst victoria #twst crewel

[silvaswiftcast]

FFxivWrite2023 Prompt #22: Fulsome

Characters: Silva Cataracta, Ricmorn Cataracta, and Hien Rijin

Rating: General

Notes: This takes place sometime between Stormblood Patch 4.1 and Patch 4.2. Silva and Hien are not together yet, but they are slowly testing the waters of where their feelings could potentially lead. Or as I like to call it, Silva is in complete denial that he wants to be romantically involved, while Hien knows she returns his feelings but is too stubborn to say it out loud.

Content Warnings/Additional Tags: Food, Pre-Polyamory Relationship (V Relationship), M/F/M relationship, Messy Feelings, Playful Teasing/Banter.

“That’s… a generous amount of vegetables you have there, my dear,” Ricmorn said after a pause, his eyes unable to look away from their island countertop covered in food.

Silva snorted. “It’s an absurd amount more like it. I still can’t believe I picked all of this.”

And yet the evidence of her endeavor lay before her in vivid shades of green, orange, yellow, purple, and red.

The Auri man turned toward her, raising an eyebrow. “You harvested all of this? Today?”

“Where in the seven hells do you think I’ve been all morning and part of the afternoon?” she laughed, resting her hands on her hips. “Not relaxing, that’s for sure. I guess the gods and kami saw it fit that my garden would be bountiful this year.”

Perhaps too bountiful. Gods— her back and arms were killing her, but it was worth it.

A few rumbling chuckles shook Ricmorn’s chest, his beige-scaled tail twitching. “You can say that again, Silv.” 

He walked over to the counter, mentally making a list of everything he saw. Cucumbers, eggplants, plump tomatoes, sweet and spicy peppers, beets, carrots. Those were only a few different crops scattered about. Things he could easily find in their personal food storage and the shared kitchens here in the apartment in Kugane and their home in Ul’dah.

And the last time he checked, they had plenty of food to get them through for a few months without worrying about it.

“What are you going to do with all of it?” he asked when he turned around to face her again, curious.

She hummed thoughtfully, crossing her arms against her chest. “I have no idea, to be honest,” was her answer. “I’ve restocked what I could here and set aside a small box to take to our other home. Then I went around the compound and spoke with many of the families to see if they needed anything and gave what I could. But as you can see, there’s still a lot left.”

“I see…”

He thought about what they could do with the produce. The last thing he knew either of them wanted was for all of it to go to waste. It would be a shame if they did. Silva took a lot of pride in her rooftop garden and in providing for those in need — the peace and solace it offered her between their Warrior of Light duties or when she needed a break from life.

But if his wife already did what she could by giving some of it away, there weren’t many options left.

They could sell what was life either in their stall in the markets in the city or to one of the other food stalls. It wouldn’t give them a huge profit, but neither was hurting for gil. Between the two of them, they had enough to get by for several lifetimes.

And then an idea struck him.

“What if we took and donated all of this to the Doman Enclave?” he suggested. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips when her sea-green eyes lit up. “I’m sure if the food stalls and open kitchens there don’t take everything, we’ll find families who will. We could even go to Namai or the House of the Fierce and see if they need fresh food.”

“That’s an idea,” she agreed.

Silva was a little annoyed she didn’t think about that first. Why didn’t she?

“We could even say hello to Hien if he happens to be out and about,” Ricmorn added playfully. His smile turned into a teasing smirk when the Auri woman’s face flushed, turning a pretty shade of lilac. “I’m sure he would like that. It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other.”

Ah— That was why. A very, very poor excuse, but an excuse nonetheless.

She looked away from him, her long ivory tail swishing. “A-as lovely as it would be to see and speak with him, I-I’m sure he’ll be busy with his duties,” she mumbled. Curse her sudden stuttering and how the sound of the young lord’s name made her heart flutter.

The black mage didn’t know what was worse, letting the food go to waste or shoving the romantic feelings she felt for Hien down further and pretending they weren’t there.

“Oh, don’t be like that, sweetheart,” he soothed, crossing the small distance between them. He gently cupped her warm cheeks, brushing his thumbs against the plum-colored freckles decorating them. “I’m sure your boyfriend would be more than happy to—”

Silva gasped, the flush staining her face growing darker. “Ricmorn! I— Wha—” She growled at him when he laughed, hearty and deep, swatting his hands away from her. “He is not my boyfriend!”

“He will be soon enough!” he promised. “If you both would just stop tiptoeing around this intense connection between the two of you and—”

“Ugh, stop it!” she huffed, her tail whipping around behind her. “As much as I know that something is there — something I’m still trying to figure out for myself — I highly doubt… I highly doubt he feels the same way.”

There was no way he did — not the Lord of Doma.

And yet her heart told her otherwise. 

How every time they met after liberating Ala Mhigo, she always caught a magical glint in his pretty hazel orbs that made her pause. The way he grinned at her, always a bright smile full of teeth and joy, sent her heart racing a hundred malms a second. Or when they touched — muted sparks of levin dancing along her nerves. Whether it was hands resting on arms and shoulders in a show of comfort and understanding or gentle and careful grazes against warm skin and blushing cheeks, it took her breath away.

It felt like the world around them faded, leaving only the two of them behind. A resounding connection Silva could not put into words.

Gods… she was really deep into this, wasn’t she?

She felt Ricmorn tuck two fingers under her chin and tilt her head to meet his gaze, breaking her from her thoughts. Sympathy and love shimmered in his sky-blue eyes, a soft smile gracing his lips.

“I know you— the two of you will eventually figure it out,” he murmured. “But please tell me you are not so blind to the point you cannot see how deep the care he feels for you goes, Silva.”

A quiet sigh escaped her as she took in his words. She hated how right he was. Not that she would admit it.

“Maybe I am. Maybe I’m not,” she said, shrugging. “As you said, this will get figured out in time.”

And today was not that day.

※

A half-bell later, after they stored all the extra produce in spare bags and boxes, the Auri couple arrived at the Doman Enclave. And now Ricmorn was watching Hien and Silva speak and flirt from a short distance away, grinning like a fool and shaking his head as he listened. Even if he was being ignored by his friend.

“Silva!? I— Hello, it’s so lovely to see you!”

The Au Ra bit his tongue to hold his chuckles in when elation rushed across the soulbond he shared with the smaller Raen.

“H-hi, Hien. It sure has been a while.”

“Your duties keep you busy, no doubt, as have mine. Pray know it is always a treat to see you when you have the time to spare.”

The way Silva’s face blushed at his empathetic words and her tail swished was adorable to the white mage.

“You are far too kind, my friend.”

Ricmorn thought she would swoon from the softness in Hien’s gaze and the warmth radiating from his wide smile.

“How could I not be? We all deserve a little more kindness in these times — especially you.”

It was then the young lord noticed how full Silva’s hands were.

“Oh? What’s all this?”

Ricmorn cleared his throat, gaining the attention of the two Domans. The last time he recalled the way Hien’s face turned so red as the night he told him he could pursue a relationship with Silva.

“Ah— Apologies, Ricmorn, I didn’t see you there.”

He dismissed his friend’s apology with a shrug. It wasn’t the first time this happened, and knew it wouldn’t be the last. “It’s nice to see you, Hien. My dear wife spent most of the day tending to her garden and picking everything ripe,” he explained. “She already gave away what she could to the families living at the compound, and this is what’s left over. I suggested we bring it to the Enclave to see if it could be better served here instead of going to waste.”

Surprise colored the Hyur’s features, counting the two bags slung over Ricmorn’s shoulders, one over hers and a box in her hands, before turning back to Silva. “Busy day then, I see,” he teased, amusement shining in his eyes.

“Something like that, yeah,” she lightly laughed.

“Thank you for this, truly. I’m sure the kitchens here would be happy to put all this fresh food to good use.”

“Of course, my friend. We’re happy to help wherever and whenever we can.”

Hien saw how she adjusted the grip on the heavy box, realizing her arms must be growing tired. “Here—” he said, stepping forward and offering his hands. “Let me take that off your hands, Silva.”

“O-oh! You don’t have to—”

He shook his head, grinning from ear to ear. “Please, it’s the least I can do.”

Silva returned his smile with a shy one, carefully handing the box full of vegetables to him. “Thank you.”

Ricmorn watched as the two Domans walked towards the open kitchens and food stalls on the other side of the Enclave, switching the conversation to something else, laughing and blushing the entire way. After a moment, he couldn’t help but shake his head at their antics.

“One of these days, you will not be in so much denial, my dear,” he mumbled to himself. “And when it comes, I hope you know it will all be worth it.”

And then he followed them, catching up in long strides to join in on whatever they were talking about.

#FFxivWrite2023 #FFxivWrite #FFxivWrite Challenge #ffxiv writing #ffxiv fanfiction #ffxiv #silva writes

[bonvoyagenoona]

amomk jin gently guiding mrs. kim by the hand through the crowd let’s say maybe at the farmers market or something

and at that moment mrs. kim suddenly got brief flashbacks to the time where SHE would look all the way down at her firstborn’s tiny head next to her legs with his tiny short arm stretched up to hold her hand in his tiny hand when he was a tiny little boy, walking to the park… and now she’s staring at his broad back, towering over her, trying to be her shield from the crowd… her firstborn is a grown 31 year old man now, no longer the tiny baby whose tiny hands she used to hold 😖😖😖

Waaah so cute! Ugh, this makes me think of eldest sibling things too...

--

At the farmer’s market, early one Sunday, present day. Jin and Mrs. Kim are walking side-by-side.

Jin: Shame about those tomatoes.

Mrs. Kim: And the eggplants. 

Jin can’t help but giggle.

Mrs. Kim: Must be hard times.

Jin can’t help but giggle again.

Mrs. Kim: (disappointed) Jin.

Jin: Sorry. (pause) Y’know, I read something about subsidies not being allocated properly this year, which caused a lot of operational issues for some of these farmers.

Mrs. Kim: That’s frustrating. (sighs) I guess for tonight, maybe we’ll have to supplement what we get here with what we can find at the store. For the eggplants, I was hoping we could get bigger ones so that---

Jin: Ah! Eomma, I see the honey farmer starting to pack up!

Mrs. Kim: Oh?

Jin: Let’s go!

He quickly takes Mrs. Kim’s hand, steps forward, and curls his arm behind him, elbow jutting out, the backs of his knuckles resting in the small of his back, as he pulls her into him and shields her from the crowd, which they are walking against.

Mrs. Kim smiles at his sweaty back and remembers something.

--

At the farmer’s market, early one Sunday, years ago. Jin and Mrs. Kim are walking side-by-side.

5-Year-Old Jin: (still chewing his bite of fresh strawberry) 

Mrs. Kim: You like going to the market with Eomma?

5-Year-Old Jin nods enthusiastically.

5-Year-Old Jin: (holding up the giant strawberry in the air) This is the bestest-estest strawberry ever! 

Mrs. Kim: We should bring Joonie and Tae-Tae when they’re a bit bigger!

5-Year-Old Jin: (suddenly stopping) NO!

Mrs. Kim stops and looks at him in surprise.

5-Year-Old Jin: I-I mean... (looks regretful)

Mrs. Kim stops and bends down to get eye-level with Jin as he throws the strawberry stem to the ground.

5-Year-Old Jin: I’m sorry, Eomma.

Mrs. Kim: For what?

5-Year-Old purses his lips.

Mrs. Kim: (understanding) Jinnie, we’ve been busy with Joonie and Tae-Tae, huh?

5-Year-Old Jin nods.

Mrs. Kim: I miss having alone time with you sometimes. Do you miss that, too?

5-Year-Old Jin looks unsure of what to say.

Mrs. Kim: It’s OK. You can tell me. What do you miss about life when Joonie and Tae-Tae weren’t with us yet?

5-Year-Old Jin: Well... sometimes I miss sitting on your lap when we watch TV. And I miss how you and Appa used to feed me. (takes a big breath) But I know I’m Big Kid Jin now, so I can’t do that anymore.

Mrs. Kim frowns, feeling a swell of regret in her chest. But then she smiles and wipes the strawberry strains from his cheeks.

Mrs. Kim: Even though things might have changed a little bit, we will always make time to have Eomma and Jinnie time, OK? It might not happen all the time, and it might not be getting to sit in Eomma’s lap, or Appa feeding you, but we’ll find other ways. OK?

5-Year-Old Jin smiles.

5-Year-Old Jin: OK.

Mrs. Kim: Now, let’s go pick up something special.

5-Year-Old Jin: (eyes wide) What is it?

Mrs. Kim: Have you ever seen a beehive?

5-Year-Old Jin: Real bees?

Mrs. Kim: Yep, ones that make honey! There’s a honey farmer in a booth over there. Let’s go get a jar, and when we get home, before Joonie and Tae-Tae wake up, we can cut up some strawberries and put them on honey toast. What do you think about that?

5-Year-Old Jin: That’s the bestest-estest-estest breakfast I ever heard!

Mrs. Kim: Let’s go!

She steps in front of Jin and curls her arm around her back, letting the backs of her knuckles rest in the small of her back, as she leads him through the thickening crowd.

5-Year-Old Jin smiles happily and places a strawberrry kiss on her wrist, making Mrs. Kim laugh.

--

At the farmer’s market, back in present day.

Mrs. Kim lifts her hand, bringing Jin’s with it, and presses a kiss on his wrist.

Jin keeps marching forward, with a warm smile.

source: pinterest

Read A Map of Mrs. Kims / AMOMK here!

#asks #your asks #amomk #a map of mrs. kims #bts fanfiction #bts fluff #bts smut #bts angst #namjoon #seokjin #jin #taehyung #namjoon fanfiction #jin fanfiction #taehyung fanfiction #seokjin fanfiction #anon

[snekverse]

OC time!!

i have recently recycled these babies so they’re not like,, fully fleshed out lol but I wanna talk abt em anyways!! A lot of this is going to be chalk full of spoilers for my rewrite if I ever get around to actually writing it, so be warned!! they’re mostly small details tho so it’s not too huge but still

@the-tismification-of-aaron-lycan​

Della:

phys desciption: human, avg height, curvy and muscular hourglass build, moroccan, curly blonde hair (always covered by a hijab, her favorite of which is golden rod yellow), brown eyes, late teens/early 20s, her “signature color” is rust orange

Juror during Zane’s tenure, one of the only jurors not handpicked by Zane, although he did obviously have a say in her getting the position. She doesn’t have a confirmed jury title yet, but her temp title is Crystal Vision

Magics user with the ability to see into the future. due to her age + other factors her ability to control said magics is somewhat limited; she has very little control over how far forward she sees and visions tend to come to her at random rather than her intentionally making them happen (not to say that she can’t induce visions). she also tends to accidentally induce visions when she becomes stressed or overwhelmed

the magics came mostly naturally, more of a gift, and now that she’s reached a point in her practice where she actually needs to work at it she’s at a loss. on the path to magical gifted kid burnout

she has very little family and no friends from childhood, growing up with only her mother. They lived in a smaller, very religious town not far from Okhasis, and as such she grew up deeply religious

By nature she is very kind and compassionate albeit timid. However the rarity of her magic garnered a lot of negative attention, and a lot of people tried to find ways to use her for it, often through cruel means. As such, she has become anxious and paranoid

in terms of trying to use her the Jury/Okhasis is no different, something she didn’t realize until it was too late. She hates being in the Jury, but is too afraid of what might happen to her and/or her mother if she tries to leave

her story ends during the 15yr timeskip, when she is tried and executed for treason on account of not being able to predict/prevent Zane’s disappearance. 

Elliott: 

phys description: werewolf, tall, somewhat lean but sturdy inverted triangle build, central european, messy dark brown hair, black eyes, mid 30s, his “signature color” is eggplant purple

Corinne’s husband and Lia’s father

Juror during Zane’s tenure, recruited thanks to the interference of his wife Corinne. He has no particularly strong feelings about Zane, the Jury, or any of their questionable morals; for him it’s really just a job. His Jury Title is Wolf’s Bane

He doesn’t use any weapons, in human form or wolf, but Corinne does provide various potions and elixirs to boost his attacks, which he often takes advantage of in the form of poison-tipped claws

He’s been essentially disowned by his family after he was turned, and he has learned to “accept it” (*cough* repress it *cough*). Even if they refuse to associate with him, he has a mother, father, and three younger brothers. He originally hails from a very small farming-central village in the south of Ru’an, went on the run for years after being turned before meeting Corinne in Okhasis, where he settled.

He’s very cocky and self-assured by nature, definitely kind of an asshole. All the trauma of being turned and disowned left him bitter and angry, traits he has to this day. He doesn’t have a whole bunch of positive qualities lol

He does love his wife wholeheartedly though, as well as his daughter. Everything he does he does with his family in mind. He wants to be better to them than his family was for him, and often that ends up with him stubbornly believing everything he does is right (bc he’s doing it for them and if they argue then they’re ungrateful etc yall know how this goes)

his story ends during the 15yr timeskip; he gets killed in the line of battle during the war with Tu’la, loyal to his nation and family til the very end

Corinne:

phys description: witch, avg height, curvy pear-shaped build, vietnamese, straight dark orange hair, brown eyes, early 30s, her “signature color” is wine red

Elliott’s wife and Lia’s mother

Not a juror, but very closely connected to Zane, the Jury, and other Okhasian nobility through her husband’s juror status, something she enjoys taking advantage of

she is native to Okhasis, coming from a semi-noble family, not super high in the politics chain but well above the average citizen

Her dream was to be one of the “top dogs” in Okhasis, if not the entirety of Ru’an. She got this from her mother who had a similar goal.

Marrying Elliott was something more akin to an investment for her; she saw that he had potential and pushed him to reach for something greater (the jury), ultimately raising her own status drastically

She is incredibly selfish and vain, caring for no one but herself. She gets away with it by being manipulatively charming

During the timeskip very little changed in terms of her goals. at some point she figured Tu’la was likely going to take over, she abandoned everything and swapped sides, working her way up in Tu’lan society. She is currently remarried to a well respected Tu’an general

Cordelia/Lia:

phys description: werewolf, tall but not as tall as her father, lean rectangular build, mixed (european/vietnamese), curly dark orange hair, brown/black eyes, 7(s1), 22 post timeskip, her “signature color” is rose pink as a child and dusty rose as an adult

Daughter of Elliott and Corinne

Her parents were deeply involved in the Jury and Okhasis politics and struggled to give her the attention she needed; as a result, she was never very close to them (plus a million other mental health issue lmao)

Feels responsible for her parent’s wrongdoings despite not having a hand in any of it. As an adult she chooses to travel the world and right her parent’s wrongs wherever she can

Her father dies and her mother abandoned her shortly after the war started. She learned to fight and survive, barely escaping Okhasis in hner early teens alongside many other orphaned and abandoned children that she helped along her way

She’s about the same age as Abby; they weren’t close as children due to their parents not getting along, but their paths cross again in adulthood and they briefly become travel companions. They’re still not close, but they’re not enemies, so she counts it as a win

She actually has an awful crush on Abby in adulthood, but it isn’t reciprocated (yet?)

After parting ways with Abby she finds Mikai, and begins working with him and helping Tu’la refugees

Violetta:

phys description: human/mage, fairly short, chubby build, chilean, curly black hair, violet eyes, mid 20s, her “signature color” is violet (go figure lol)

something of a bounty hunter, willing to do increasingly awful things if given enough money

One of her earliest assignments was to murder Zane. She ended up failing, and was given a new assignment by him in exchange for her life (to remove a certain juror from the equation). She now is offering unofficial aid to Tu’la, who are using her to continue picking off uncooperative Ru’an nobility.

she specializes in magic that can bend light, creating optical illusions and more impressively turning things (and herself) invisible, a trick she utilizes for her job

she has a very laidback personality, very intelligent and sly but always keeping a very relaxed and often very charming demeanor

though she would never state it, she originally comes from falcon claw, her family relocating the the eastern edge of Ru’an shortly before falcon claw is decimated

Her family is nothing to write home about, both parents and her little brother are alive and well in eastern Ru’an. She’s on good terms with all three of them, but rarely visits and refuses to tell them what she does for work (she’s afraid of them reacting poorly)

she wholeheartedly believes the story about Aaron being responsible for the falcon claw massacre, and her desire for closure/revenge is partially why she become involved in bounty hunting. despite essentially dedicating her life to finding him, he has always managed to elude her, so much so she’s not even sure he’s alive

By the time of the timeskip she’s become more focused on her work + her own survival more than anything else, and no longer has that drive for vengeance

#this took me way too long lol but!! #it's oc time!!! #these are just kinda general concepts for the charas i think smth to help me get my shit together yknow?? #n e ways while may be my ocs i am more than happy to share if given to proper credit #i love sharing <3 #if you have any qs abt these guys lemme hear em!! :D #also would like to point out that the race/ethnicity things i added for each chara are obviously the real world equivalent? #i don't believe any of our countries exist in mcd #hope thats not too confusing <3

[tgmsunmontue]

Take more chances, dance more dances 2/2

~12k EXPLICIT Hangster AU Meet!Cute with Jake as the best man at Natasha and Javy's wedding and Bradley is the instructor teaching them how to dance... (Side Mav/Cyclone (and vaguest hints of Javy/Nat/Bob if you're looking))

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

                They didn’t exchange numbers, there was no need to when there’s already been an email with Bradley’s number right there on the bottom. He enters it into his phone and adds a couple of eggplant emojis because he’s nothing if not honest with himself about what he’s entering the number into his phone for. He doesn’t send a message though, he entered his own number into the sign-up sheet when he did the health and safety forms. Bradley can also contact him if he wants.

                He can wait a couple of days.

                Maybe.

…             …             …

                “What are you drinking?” Jake asks, taking a sip from the side.

                “It’s a mojito…”

                Huh. That’s the smell of the body wash Bradley uses. Just the scent has his dick stirring in his pants and he can’t believe he’s somehow developed a Pavlovian response to a scent combo from one time.

…             …             …

                It’s been niggling at the back of his head, what Natasha Trace had said, about wanting to bring their wedding forward. Jake talking about needing a grateful to be alive connection and he wonders. There is a lot that Mav can’t and won’t tell him, but he’d kind of hoped the days of him nearly dying while flying were over. Apparently not. He’s already dealt with too much in the last two months; the phone call about Mav being missing and Ice’s funeral. And now there’s a third thing. Of course there is. These things always come in fucking threes, even if Mav is clearly alive and well.

                He needs to talk to Mav.

                He has nothing in his schedule until after lunch, the morning meant to be for personal practice and yoga and choreography for the students he’s coaching at competition level. None of that is important though, he needs to reassure himself that Mav is in fact alive and well and he pulls up out front of his house twenty minutes later.

                “Bradley, hey buddy. Wasn’t expecting to see you today.”

                “I know. I just needed to see you though. See that you’re alive.”

                Mav’s eyes go sharp at that, and Bradley knows, knows they have both had nightmares about his dad dying. His own nightmares morphed into Mav dying. And he’s lost his mom and Ice to cancer. He has Mav and Aunty Sarah and Uncle Slider and their kids but…

                “You almost died on your last mission huh?”

                “What? How did you – Why do you think that?”

                “Call it an educated guess, which you just confirmed. What the fuck Mav… I’ve already had to deal with one phone call telling me that you were fucking missing and then find out you almost died on a different mission? When you told me you were going to start taking it easy this isn’t what I envisioned!”

                “I’m retiring.”

                The quick statement pulls him up and stops his internal rant.

                “What?”

                “Two ejections… almost dying more than once. Losing Ice. I think those days are all behind me.”

                “Two ejections! You won’t be cleared to fly again anyway. Holy shit. You’re like a fucking cat. It’s a wonder your skeleton isn’t rattling itself out of your body… fucking hell…”

                “Yeah well. It’s a little harder to get moving in the morning now.”

                “Yeah, I bet. You should start doing yoga with me.”

                “Well, I’ll have time. What with the whole retiring thing…”

                “I’ve heard those words before,” he says, still skeptical.

                “I mean them this time…”

                Bradley hums, takes in the somber expression on Mav’s face and realizes he might actually be serious.

                “Okay… well. I’ve got plenty of stuff you can help with.”

                “I haven’t suddenly gotten better at dancing.”

                “I wasn’t asking you to dance. Pretty sure you can fix my aircon unit though…”

                “Yeah, I can take a look at it.”

…             …             …

                The next time the four of them walk into the dance studio he has a better idea of what to expect. Has been anticipating it since he left Bradley’s apartment on Monday night. What he doesn’t expect is the freezing Arctic temperature. It’s not that hot outside. They’re going to need to go and get jackets.

                “Hey guys, sorry about the temperature. We had someone look at the aircon, and they got it working but broke the thermostat so it’s either stuck on cooling or heating and we have no control over anything in between. I’ll turn it off now,” Cheryl says, and she’s wearing a puffer jacket and walking toward the control panel. She’s also wearing dance attire, a short sparkly dress, probably fairly revealing on top which has lead to the puffer jacket. Definitely not what she’d been wearing on Monday and he wonders what class is happening later that warrants her wearing it. Wonders what Bradley might be wearing. He spies him coming through the door then, and unfortunately it’s simply black pants and t-shirt, although Jake has to admit he does make it look good.

                “Hey guys, good to see you again,” he greets, gives Jake a slow smile which makes him feel warm. Yeah. “Have you guys practiced your steps?”

                They have, one night with probably too much alcohol involved for it to be beneficial, but they’re not difficult steps. Bradley takes them through them, corrects them a little but is pretty complimentary on the whole.

                “So we’re going to partner up tonight. Nat, you and Javy obviously. Bob, you’ll dance with Cheryl. Jake… you’re with me.”

                Of course there are eye rolls, smirks and snorts but Jake doesn’t fucking care. He’s not ashamed that he’s had sex with Bradley, and clearly Bradley isn’t ashamed, just gives Jake a wink that tells him he’s maybe remembering their night together.

                Dancing with Bradley feels like foreplay, his body reacting without his permission and Bradley seems to know it too. Asshole. His hands brush over Jake just a little longer than necessary, his eyes falling to Jake’s lips and god he wants. He’s definitely supporting a half-chub, knows Bradley knows it, with all the times he’s brushed up against Jake for no reason, because the waltz doesn’t fucking call for body contact like that. He knows that much. As Bradley pauses, walks them through the steps, the corner-turns, Jake lets his mind wander. Bradley’s apartment is upstairs, scene of the crime as it were, and neither of them have messaged, but there’s interest there. He didn’t think he’d feel this horny after getting such a good lay on Monday, but apparently his body knows when he’s onto a good thing.

                “You got another class after this?” Jake asks as they turn into and out of a corner, and he can’t remember the steps exactly, but Bradley is very easy to lead.

                “Sure do.”

                “Want me to come back around finishing time?”

                “Or we could go upstairs and use my thirty-minute break far more creatively than I would otherwise.”

                “Yeah?”

                “Oh yeah…”

                He somehow manages the rest of the lesson without getting fully erect or dry-humping Bradley while dancing. He hopes Javy and Nat appreciate how much restraint he’s showing. Of course it doesn’t stop them sending him knowing looks when he says he’ll see them later, flicks them a one-fingered salute and heads toward the door he knows leads to Bradley’s apartment. Can hear Bradley coming up the stairs behind him, his hand reaching around to push open the door to his apartment, guiding Jake in with his body.

                Bradley doesn’t waste any time, drops to his knees and is deftly working Jake’s belt and jeans open, tugging them down, mouth already letting out puffs of warm air on Jake’s exposed skin.

                “Jesus fuck…”

                “We’re on a time crunch, don’t even think of holding back okay?”

                He doesn’t bother answering, just nods, because holding back wasn’t an option considering how he’s been half-hard for the last hour, far harder now with Bradley’s mouth brushing along the sensitive skin of his cock. Then there’s the tear of foil and a condom being rolled down and his cock is encased in tight hot heat as Bradley’s mouth follows the roll of latex down.

                “Fuck…”

                Bradley just hums, the gentle vibration magnifying as it travels through Jake’s body until he’s also vibrating with pleasure. He’s at Bradley’s mercy, his fingers stroking at Jake’s balls, mouth sucking hard, with distinct purpose and he lets himself just sink into the sensations. Enjoy the confident movements of a man who knows and wants to bring about pleasure as fast as fucking possible. He jerks as Bradley swallows around him, the heat and pressure ramping up for the briefest of moments before it’s back to rapid sucking. He’s not getting the opportunity to settle into any rhythm and he can appreciate the commitment Bradley clearly has to getting this over and done with as quickly as possible.

                He doesn’t let himself feel embarrassed by how quickly he comes, hopes Bradley takes it as a compliment that Jake is as clearly as goal focused as he is and he whines and reaches for Bradley, wants to return the favor rather desperately.

                “Uh uh. I’m going to save this for later… if you’re going to be here later. You can stay. If you want. Have a nap or shower and then we can have round two when I’m finished.”

                “Sounds perfect, I’ll wait here,” Jake says, letting himself slump against the wall so his legs will have less to worry about regarding balance and keeping him upright.

                “Help yourself to the food in the fridge and freezer.”

                “Wait, what are you going to eat?”

                “I’m going to slam back a protein shake and a banana, brush my teeth and hope like hell Cheryl hasn’t already blabbed about what I’ve been up to. I’ll see you later.”

                He gives Jake a quick kiss, his smirk clearly amused as Jake just stands there, dazed, his cock still out and wrapped, jeans around his knees and likely looking as blown away as he feels. He realizes quickly, once Bradley’s clearly gone. That he’s pretty much trapped, either he walks through the dance studio to exit the building, or he just stays where he is.

                Round two it is then.

                Easiest decision ever.

…             …             …

                “So how did you get into dancing anyway?” Jake asks him, looking thoroughly wrecked and Bradley approves of the look.

                He’d come up from his class, really needing a shower, to find Jake already in said shower, stretching himself open. It had taken a matter of minutes of Jake’s hands and mouth on him for him to be hard, enough time to feel suitably rinsed off and then they’d been back in bed. And now Jake is making conversation as opposed to running for the door and he approves of that too.

                “Ha. It’s… Well. I was an idiot and took my step-dad’s bike, crashed it and almost killed myself. I had a lot of rehab. A lot. Swimming and dancing were the ones which made me feel like I could get back to enjoying life again. And it turned out that dancing and music were just something that came easy to me.”

                “A natural huh?”

                “I guess. My mom was a dancer.”

                “Dancers do have a lot going for them…”

                Bradley snorts in amusement, because that’s not the worst pick-up line he’s heard, but it’s close. Jake doesn’t need to use pick-up lines though, he’s already in Bradley’s bed.

…             …             …

                It carries on like that for a couple of weeks, Jake simply hanging around after his lesson, them falling into bed after Bradley’s class. They end up hooking up three, four or even five times a week, always after Bradley is finished with his classes. It’s been a long time since he’s had so much sex, so regular. It’s super convenient and Bradley finds he also enjoys Jake’s company, when he deigns to stay a little longer. He doesn’t mind the whole getting sex on the regular, but is a little surprised when he enters the dance hall and sees Jake loitering near the water cooler.

                “Hey. Didn’t expect to see you today.”

                “Javy and Phoenix are doing cake tasting. Which seems a little weird considering his favorite is strawberry-vanilla and hers is chocolate. Just… I don’t understand weddings.”

                “You and me both, although I’m glad they often feature a first dance. Keeps me busy.”

                “And are you? Busy that is?”

                “Well, I actually have a community class today. It’s a free dance lesson and anyone can come along. I get a lot of kids. You don’t have to hang around.”

                “And if I want to?”

                “Well, I won’t stop you.”

                The room fills with dozens of people, most of them kids but none younger than about six or seven actually come onto the dance floor part of the room. There’s plenty of parents sitting on this side, keeping the younger kids entertained. He usually does two circles of dancers, one inner and one outer but he glances over at Jake and remembers their first meeting.

                “In honor of my friend Jake here I thought we’d do a little line dancing today, which is his specialty. Him and I will show you a demonstration and then we’ll see what we can teach you okay?”

…             …             …

                Jake laughs and shakes his head, because he hasn’t done line dancing properly in years, but he did do it for many many years, is still dragged out every time he goes home and he remembers everything; his parents wouldn’t let his forget this big a part of their family tradition and time together. Easy as breathing. Just not something he usually broadcasts, but he’s going to enjoy this.

                “Four wall dance to a thirty-two count? No hooks, no bridges? Right?”

                That gets Bradley attention and Jake smirks at the flash of arousal he sees in Bradley’s eyes. He was right, dancing does turn him on. Jake is prepared to rock his world if he’s going to think making Jake do a little line dancing is going to make him uncomfortable. He’s got tone on this type of dancing if nothing else.

                “You’ve been holding out on me Lieutenant…”

                “I haven’t been holding out at all.”

                Bradley throws his head back and laughs, delighted and Jake grins, pleased with himself.

                “Okay everyone, we’re going to let Jake show us his fancy foot work, I’m going to try and keep up with him, and then we’ll show you something you can all learn. Sound good?”

                There’s a little cheer, and this is obviously the format that Bradley uses every time and Jake shakes out his shoulders and rolls his neck, loosening up, wondering what music Bradley is going to put on, trusts him to know what will make a more interesting demo anyway. When the first words announce Good time he barks out a laugh. Of course. He gestures to the empty space beside him, quirks his eyebrow at Bradley expectantly. Bradley steps in, accepts the challenge Jake is laying down and fuck this is fun.

                He counts in and kicks off, seeing Bradley following out of the corner of his eye, and as he steps, kicks and toe struts his way through the first quarter-turn. He says the moves, broadcasting what he’s about to do give Bradley a chance to keep up and he does; grinning the whole time and Jake had forgotten how much fun this is. He adds more complexity as soon as Bradley seems to have got it, changing from wall to wall although he keeps the primary steps the same, knows Bradley might try and teach this and wants to give him a chance of it making it look a little similar. The song is only five minutes long, comes to an end far sooner than he’d like, is enjoying dancing like this with Bradley and he’s enjoying it too if the look he’s giving Jake is anything to go by. He’d thought he’d seen all of Bradley’s bedroom eyes after three weeks but this is a new one.

                “Holy shit, you can dance. Fuck you’re hot when you move like that… no wonder you’ve picked up the waltz so easily.”

                “You think so huh?”

                “God yes. You able to stay? Want you to fuck me.”

                Jake doesn’t know if he’s ever going to quite get used to Bradley just blatantly stating what he wants, no coy games or making him guess.

                “Yeah, okay. We can do that.”

                “Good. Now I have to get through the rest of this session with a semi, so thanks for that.”

                “You’re welcome darlin’, anytime…”

                “Promises promises,” Bradley says, walking backwards away from Jake but his grin is lascivious and he is indeed noticeably half-hard in his pants.

…             …             …

                He’s ready to kill him. He’s somehow fixed and re-broken the AC. Decided the water cooler needed upgrading, which has resulted in them now having to hire a replacement until a proper repair man comes. Bradley’s car needed an oil change, which had gone smoothly, but then he’d decided to tune it, and of course it’s now in pieces. He’s lucky he can walk pretty much everywhere he needs to go.

                “Mav, seriously, what is up with you? You need to find something to do which isn’t breaking everything of mine that you touch. Please.”

                “I’m bored.”

                “Yeah, no shit. Surely there’s someone else you can annoy.”

                The expression on Mav’s face breaks his heart and fuck, he realizes it’s usually Ice that Maverick annoyed and he reaches for him, hugs him, feels guilty that he hadn’t realized earlier.

                “I miss him too. Have you thought about going and helping Sarah with her grandkids though? Would that help?”

                “Maybe. They make me feel old.”

                “Mav… “

                “Don’t say it.”

                Bradley huffs, gives Mav a quick squeeze and steps away, ignores the quick swipe Mav takes at his eyes.

                “You want to come to the wedding with me? They’ve given me a plus-one.”

                “You mean Javy and Natasha’s wedding?”

                “Yeah. Is there another wedding coming up that I should know about?”

                “No… but I’m not going as your plus one. Take Hondo. Even Beau would be a better option than me…” Oh. There’s an idea. “Actually, you want to do something truly scary Mav? Ask Beau to be your plus-one to the wedding.”

                “Cyclone isn’t interested in me like that.”

                “What, so he might say no? Is the great Maverick Mitchell a little scared of rejection?” Bradley goads, because he learnt from Ice that one of the best ways to get Mav to do something was tell him he either couldn’t, or he’d somehow fail if he did. And Bradley has a pretty good hunch that Beau won’t say no.

…             …             …

                “Uh, so I know it’s really late notice, but I was wondering if you’d come to the wedding as my date…”

                Bradley laughs and shakes his head, looks up then and realizes Jake has taken that the wrong way, expression shuttering to cool indifference and he doesn’t want that. He presses himself against Jake, nibbles on his ear and kisses along his jaw and enjoys the fine scrape of stubble against his lip.

                “I actually already got asked to be someone’s plus one to the wedding. Just this morning in fact…” Bradley says, rolling his hips against the swell of Jake’s ass. “And I turned them down. Was sort of hoping for a better offer…”

                “Oh?” Jake asks, and he sounds curious and Bradley pulls back so he can see his grin.

                “Yeah… and yes. I’d like to go with you.”

                “Glad to hear it…”

…             …             …

                Bradley is happy with how they look, their last practice before the actual wedding day in three days and they’re gliding across the floor beautifully. Natasha and Javy seem relaxed and happy, their respective sisters here for this final lesson and Jake and Bob look equally good although he misses dancing with Jake himself. He’s a little surprised when they switch partners, Bob suddenly switching to dance with Javy, who has clearly been learning how to both lead and be lead. Jake takes Natasha and the sisters pair off, one of them also taking the lead and he feels a little in the dark about the whole thing but he’s not disappointed. He could have helped if he’d known this was something they wanted.

                He chances a quick glance at Jake, who’s just looking softly pleased with the whole thing and he wonders if it was a bit more spur of the moment. There’s learning to do something with no intention of ever showing anyone, and then doing this. It’s not like it’s their actual wedding reception, however he’s starting to get an inkling that maybe it would be fine if it was. They switch partners again, this time Bob with Natasha and Jake with Javy. Jake is now being lead and he feels a flash of what he thinks is annoyance and he’s not sure what he’s annoyed about exactly. Then Jake is peeling off and grinning at him.

                “You wanna take me for a spin?”

                “You know I do…” Bradley says, and then he’s leading Jake across the floor in a waltz, and Jake’s not as practiced as he is when he’s leading, but it’s still passable and Bradley realizes that he’d maybe been jealous rather than annoyed. Huh.

                “I don’t have a class tonight. There’s a two-week break. Was wondering if you maybe wanted to go and get dinner?”

                “You mean you eat proper food? Not just protein shakes?”

                “Shut up, my main meal is lunch because I have more time to cook during the day. You want to go and eat or not?”

                “Think I can be persuaded.”

…             …             …

                Natasha and Javy manage to get him alone, asking him if he’d like to attend their wedding and he laughs, says he’s already coming and wonders briefly why Jake hasn’t told them he’s got Bradley coming as his date. Both sets of eyebrows go up when he tells them and he’s not sure how to take it.

…             …             …

                He didn’t know if they were going to be wearing their dress uniforms or suits, but clearly they’ve gone with suits and Jake looks drop dead gorgeous. He looks good normally, but in a form-fitting suit he is stunning. Everyone else looks good too, all of them unfairly good looking really, but it’s Jake that holds his attention and he realizes then that maybe he’s starting to fall a little in love. That wasn’t his plan, and he feels a little disconcerted, because Jake will be leaving. Will forget him and just move on to better and brighter things, far away from Bradley. He needs to be realistic and prepare for that eventuality.

                The wedding ceremony is late in the day on a Thursday, held in a small chapel not far from the base and he’s had to get a ride from Beau and Mav, which is amusing (for many reasons, not least Beau insisting on driving) however also annoying, seeing as his car is still not functional; or in one piece. The ceremony is quick but sincere, he likes the fact that both Javy and Natasha have a best-man and a bridesmaid each, clearly not holding to any particular traditions or societal expectations. There’s about fifty people in attendance, and having spent so much time with the wedding party over the last four weeks he actually feels like he knows them quite well, although Bob is wearing a ring on his ring finger and he would swear he never wore one before.

                Natasha and Javy almost run up the aisle in their delight, their best men following behind them and Jake winks at him as he goes past, he rolls his eyes but can’t resist smiling. The bride and groom’s sister follow much more sedately, looking bemused at the whoops of congratulations happening from excitable family and friends. There are photos outside, Bradley stands off to the side with Mav and Beau, although Mav gets called up to have photos with the bride and groom, and then Beau is called up as well. He’s glad he just gets called up for a large group photo and then he expects the wedding party to disappear for more photos but instead they’re all heading to the restaurant of a hotel for dinner and he finds himself back in the backseat of Beau’s car again.

…             …             …

                The function room is nicely set out, a sliding divider-wall making the room smaller and more intimate. There’s a decently sized dance floor to one side, decorations and flowers and this feels far more traditionally wedding-like and he suspects it’s the hotels doing rather than personal preference on behalf of either Natasha or Javy. He leaves Mav and Beau as soon as he can, grabs a glass of champagne and walks in any direction that is away from them, stilted conversation and all. It’s weird hearing them try to be polite to each other.

                “I forgot you said that Mav was a family friend…” Jake says, coming up beside him and Bradley opens his mouth and then shuts it again. Looks across to Mav who is still awkwardly talking with Beau who looks either amused or terrified, Bradley’s not actually sure.

                “Uh… Yeah. I mean… he is. But… didn’t he tell you?”

                “Tell me what?” Jake asks, also looking towards Mav, eyebrow quirking upwards as he takes in the fact he’s almost touching Beau with his hand, clearly uncertain, which is an odd look on him. They’ve been dancing around each other for fucking years, and not literally dancing, if it had been actual dancing they would have fucked by now. He knows Beau has been unable to do or say anything with the differences in rank, but now that Mav is officially retired he’s hopeful that maybe they’ll both come to their collective senses. “Did they come together?”

                “Yeah, with me in the backseat. This is their first date. Mav is like my dad.”

                “What?”

                “Uh… which part?”

                “You came with them… and this is their first – wait. Maverick is your dad?”

                “No. My dad was his RIO. Mav is my godfather, though he pretty much raised me after my dad died. I can’t believe you didn’t know. Shit. Sorry. I seriously thought he would have mentioned it. I would have mentioned it if I had thought you didn’t know.”

                “No… just the whole family friend thing.”

                “Well, that’s not wrong either, it’s just not quite the whole picture. Anyway, Mav has been bored out of his mind since he retired. He took my car and it’s now in fucking pieces at his hangar, leaving me without a car. And those two have been… antagonistic toward each other, for years, and I was pretty sure it was unresolved sexual tension and watching them now, I know it was.”

                “That explains some things.”

                “Does it?”

                “Yeah. Pretty sure if Admiral Simpson said the sky was blue Mav would somehow disagree just to annoy him…”

                “Oh yeah. Mav annoys the people he loves. It’s a thing with him. Beau doesn’t know what’s going to hit him.”

                “Can I just say hearing you call Admiral Simpson by his first name will never not be weird.”

                “Well, before he died I used to call the COMPACFLT Uncle Ice, or Uncle Tom, so let that rock your world.”

                Jake looks suitably weirded out and Bradley grins, takes a sip of his drink.

                “How many Admirals do you know?”

                “More than any civilian should probably. Maybe ten?”

                “Definitely too many.”

                They get through the dinner, speeches which are thankfully short, then he’s watching the first dance, feeling proud as Javy and Natasha glide beautifully across the floor. After their first circuit around the dance floor the rest of the wedding party joins them. Another circuit and then it’s an open invitation and just like they’d done at their last practice, Natasha and Bob dance together while the sisters pair up and Jake and Javy navigate around the floor. He lets them do one lap and then he moves, aiming for Jake with purpose, cutting in smoothly, gets a slap on the back from Javy.

                “Having fun?”

                “Think it’s one of the nicest weddings I’ve been to,” Bradley admits, and he realizes that Jake has been leading him to the edge of the dance floor and he’s a little disappointed. He enjoys dancing, especially with Jake; although the column Jake is now leaning against does offer some potential possibilities that immediately flood his mind.

                “Thanks for agreeing to come with me.”

                “I’m sure we can come together later too…”

                “Way to lower the tone… real classy.”

                “We just waltzed around the room, that was classy enough,” Bradley says, because if he can’t dance with Jake then he’ll take up his other favorite activity, turning him on. He shifts slightly, looks around and then moves his hand across the front of Jake’s pants, a casual movement to any onlooker, but definitely not casual for Jake, the quick firm press of Bradley’s hand on his cock making him look a little scandalized and Bradley can’t help but laugh.

                “You wanna try me pretty boy?” Bradley asks, knowing Jake likes pushing boundaries as much as Bradley enjoys laying them down.

                “Yeah, but time and place. Best friend’s wedding… probably not the place? Or the time?”

                “They’re all paying attention to the bride and groom. Trust me. You’ve got all my attention.” Jake shifts and Bradley is pretty sure he’s getting turned on. Good. “You’ve always got my attention.”

                Jake doesn’t say anything, but there’s a little hitch to his breathing, enough to tell him that Jake’s definitely getting hard. He’s had weeks of learning his body and reactions in bed, so the only thing different now is the fact they’re fully dressed and surrounded by people.

                “Forgot to say, you look absolutely fucking gorgeous.”

                He turns his body slightly, pretending to want to look out over the dance floor, but the jut of his thigh and hip brush against Jake’s groin with intent and he hides a pleased grin as he hears Jake moan.

                “You planning on keeping me on edge all night?”

                “Honey, this isn’t anywhere near an edge, this is just me teasing you… I think I’ll go and dance for a bit, let you collect yourself.”

…             …             …

                He watches as Bradley goes to cut-in, this time it’s Javy’s sister, the accomplished dancer and she moves fluidly with Bradley, definitely looking good and it doesn’t help his burgeoning erection at all. The man can move and he fucking knows it, showing off when he knows Jake is watching.

                “So, Bradley huh?”

                He freezes, blood running cold. And yeah. That’ll do it. Maverick.

                “Uh, what was that Mav?”

                “Bradley. You’re the one he’s here with. He refused point blank to consider coming as my plus one.”

                “Think your plus-one is happy you asked him…” Jake says, seeing Admiral Simpson dancing with Phoenix. He looks at Mav and then notes the blush, just the barest hint of pink and he wouldn’t have caught it except for the fact that he’d also shifted and ducked his head, looking fucking bashful of all things and Jake wonders just how much dating experience this man has.

                But then he realizes that Bradley got asked by Mav to be his plus-one, not some other person like he’d thought, but his father figure and something inside him relaxes, just a little. He could have asked, but he’s not used to asking for what he wants and he’d desperately wanted to know. And now he does. He somehow manages to make small talk with Mav until Admiral Simpson comes over and invites Mav to dance with him. He’s quickly rejoined by Bradley, who is watching Mav and Admiral Simpson with a slightly horrified expression.

                “What? What’s wrong?”

                “Mav cannot dance at all.”

                “I don’t think Admiral Simpson cares…” Jake states as he watches the two of them just sway and watch each other while trying to look like they’re not watching each other. He’s pretty sure he’s blushing from the secondhand embarrassment.

                “You know I was thinking, I wouldn’t mind edging you, working you up until you’re so desperate to come you cry for me… Think you’d look very pretty like that.”

                Jake remembers Bradley saying a similar thing their first night together and he’s never been with someone with that level of patience. Or the patience to put up with him whining about wanting to come. He feels that Bradley would likely gag him to stop him whining and the little sound that escapes him at just the thought is quiet, but Bradley definitely catches it, head turning immediately, eyebrow quirking up and smile slow as he realizes that Jake is apparently very much into the idea.

                “Mmm. Shame we can’t really explore that right now. This is not the time or place. And we can’t leave before the bride and groom.”

                “I can go and tell them to leave?”

                Bradley laughs, angles his head to kiss at his neck just above his collar and he can’t believe that this is just Bradley being playful. Fuck.

                “Won’t hurt you to practice some patience. Think you’ll need it.”

…             …             …

                He dances with everyone who seems like they want to dance, meets grandparents and parents, friends, and colleagues and tries to ensure everyone has a good time. Every time he sees Jake alone he takes him for a dance, makes sure the music suits either the waltz they know, or is something close to what Jake can confidently dance to. He finds the music, controlled by a guy called Mikey, and asks him to queue up Good Time, quickly lets Natasha, Javy and Bob know he’s going to organize a line dance, and they’re all enthusiastic. He drags Jake into the center front to help lead and then he has nearly everyone present dancing, tapping and stepping to the music; laughter when they get it wrong but he feels high on the enjoyment of everyone around him.

                Between each couple of dances with others he returns to Jake, runs his hand down his arm, kisses his neck or cheek softly, leaves him talking with whichever guest he’s trying to hold a conversation with before he goes back to dancing, confident that Jake is getting more and more wound up. The idea of taking him apart and watching him unwind all in one go has his own arousal simmering away lowly.

                Finally Natasha and Javy are walking around and saying goodbye to everyone. There’s no bouquet toss or garter thing, instead the bouquet is handed to Natasha’s grandmother very carefully, who pats her cheek and then gives her a shooing gesture with her free hand. She clearly doesn’t need to be told twice, grinning and waving at everyone as she tugs Javy with her. He guesses that most people have work tomorrow, it’s not even midnight, as now that they’ve left there’s only a small group of people who seem to be discussing staying, while the grandparents are definitely heading out.

                “I have a room upstairs,” Jake says, his voice barely above a whisper and Bradley turns, wraps an arm around him and pulls him close, angles their bodies so Jake is rubbing against his side and he can definitely feel a half-firm cock in his pants. Yeah, he wants to leave now.

                “Perfect. Let’s go…” Bradley says, and he spies Mav talking to someone, his pinky finger adorably hooked around Beau’s like he’s afraid of letting him go. Seeing as Mav is busy he aims his comments at Beau. “I’ll find my own way home. You have a good night Admiral.”

                Beau looks quietly pleased while Mav looks flushed and Bradley doesn’t want to wonder about why. Instead, want to focus on Jake and getting him to a state where he can barely remember his own name. He follows Jake through the lobby to the elevators, holds him and discreetly palms him through his pants, angles his body to stop prying eyes and puts his mouth to Jake’s ear.

                “You look so fucking hot in this suit. Seems a shame to take it off…”

                “You should see me in my uniform…”

                “Meh. Uniforms don’t do anything for me,” Bradley admits. “At least not military ones. Grew up seeing too many of them. This though? Trying to decide whether I want to fuck you in it or not…”

…             …             …

                Jake can barely breathe, unable to take deep breaths with how tight his entire body is feeling. Bradley’s words aren’t helping, and he forces his brain to connect words into comprehensible sentences. Walks stiffly down the hall to his hotel room, Bradley’s hand under his jacket but burning hot through the fabric of his shirt. He pushes open the door and steps inside.

                “I want to say not, simply because of how much it cost me, but also, that’s what dry cleaning is for right? And I kind of like the idea of thinking about you fucking me in it every time I wear it in the future.”

                That seems to sell it for Bradley, his hands not hesitating in pulling Jake’s shirt out from his pants with one hand, other hand on his belt, mouth on Jake’s and he sways into him, presses his body against Jake’s and god, he’ll never grow tired of the way Bradley moves against him and he leans against the wall for support.

                “Wanna fuck you like this,” Bradley says, his voice pitched low in Jake’s ear and his skin prickles at the level of intensity in his voice.

                “You can.”

                “I know.”

                Bradley strips quickly, clearly wants to be naked while he has Jake fully clothed, shirt untucked, belt undone but that’s all that’s happened. Bradley is moving around with purpose, grabbing a couple of towels, getting Jake’s directions for lube and condoms. He’s standing there, fully clothed, and getting harder in his pants at just the thought of Bradley fucking him. He never used to be this fucking easy. Then Bradley is back, gloriously naked in front of him, his cock bouncing around with growing interest, hands running all over Jake’s body, slipping over his shoulders and taking his suit jacket off. Part of him wants to leave it on, an extra layer of protection maybe for how exposed he’s feeling right now.

                “How about we at least remove the jacket, don’t want you to overheat… another time though, air-conditioned room, definitely want to explore that.”

                Like realizing that Mav was the other person who had asked Bradley to the wedding, hearing Bradley talk about times in the future where they’re still fucking makes his stomach twist with pleasure and relief maybe. Then he’s being shuffled toward the bed, falling onto it, bouncing a little and then Bradley’s pressing him down, naked skin fucking everywhere and he kisses him, lips sliding and he can feel Bradley’s erection pressing against his, separated by only two layers of fabric and he jerks up, wanting more friction.

                Without his permission or say-so Bradley’s leaning back, kneeling above him, shifting to be carefully positioned above his knees, hand rubbing with firm intent over his cock, fingers nimbly undoing the button and clasp of his pants, lowering the fly carefully. Then Bradley’s tugging his pants and underwear together, under the curve of his ass before carefully maneuvering the front over his erection. He leans down and licks a stripe up Jake’s cock, sucks at the head far too briefly to be anything but a tease and he groans.

                “You good?” Bradley asks, and his tone is lower than Jake’s ever heard it, raspy and fuck he sounds good.

                “You know it…”

                Bradley hums then, gives his cock another too-quick suck but then he’s moving away, rolling Jake onto his side, bringing his legs up into a curl and he runs a finger over the crease between his ass cheeks. Then Bradley is tugging his tie undone, looping it through one of his shirt cuffs, then the other, and it’s not quite a front hog-tie but both his wrists are now at the mercy of Bradley. He could easily flick the cufflinks out, get free, but he won’t. He wants to see where Bradley’s going to take this, is desperate to see where Bradley might take this.

                To his disappointment the tie is released, but not removed from where it’s looped; he hears the snap of the lid and then there’s the press and wipe of too much lube around his hole and he doesn’t want to whine about the amount of lube, but he also totally does. He keeps quiet though. He also wants to complain about the amount of time it’s taking, but he’s learnt to trust Bradley, trust that he has a plan and it’s never let him down yet.

                “So hard for you already…”

                Oh.

                He hears the now familiar tear of foil and more lube, and they’re going to make an absolute mess of the bed, but he doesn’t care in the slightest. Then Bradley’s reaching for the tie again, pulling it into a loop in his hands and then leans down to kiss at the hinge of his jaw, catches his lips in a kiss. The way Bradley has him doesn’t make it easy, his thighs are together, unable to be spread with his pants around his thighs, his shirt cuffs and tie keeping his wrists clamped firmly to the bed under Bradley’s left hand. His right-hand palms over his ass, the only part of him that’s naked and exposed, a finger brushing down the length of his ass crack again before focusing a few strokes just on his hole.

                “This okay Jake?”

                He groans, thrusts back on the finger stroking over his hole in a too-soft stroke.

                “Need words Jake…”

                “Yes. Fuck. Yes. I’ll tell you if I don’t like something.”

                “That’s all I needed to know…”

                Then he feels the slide of a finger into him, and it doesn’t get as deep as he’s used to, Bradley’s knuckles pressing into the flesh of his ass and he wants to spread his legs, wants Bradley deeper. But he can’t, too constricted, all he can do is press back, let Bradley do his whole maddeningly slow thing where he completely ignores whatever it is Jake says and instead listens to his body, somehow able to read it fluently. He’s got one of his knees behind Jake’s knees, and he’s pressing Jake down into the bed with his body and god it feels good.

                “Oh god… fuck you’re tight,” Bradley says, sliding two fingers in, and he can feel Bradley’s teeth pressing down on his bicep through the fabric of his shirt and he wonders if he will get the shirt cleaned after all. Maybe keep it as a souvenir to remind him of this. Of Bradley. All he can do is jerk minutely, barely a flex of muscle and he wants to touch his cock, can’t, and he feels increasingly desperate. Bradley’s fingers are moving non-stop, tugging at his rim, knuckles pressing and massaging at the tight muscles, and he squeezes his eyes shut, gasps at the press of three fingers.

                “Going to mess you up…”

                “Yeah, yeah… come on. Please.”

                Jake can’t believe how hard he is. He’s never had sex while wearing a suit, but he’s also never been fucked while being quite this restrained and he wants to know whether it’s one or the other, or the combination. Or is it just a Bradley thing? He’d briefly thought it would be little bit awkward,  with Bradley only having one hand to try and hold Jake open and guide his cock. But there’s lube and apparently Bradley’s cock has a homing beacon in it, because the press of Bradley’s cock into him is slow and sure.

                “You’re so fucking good…”

                Jake makes a sound he can’t even begin to describe, the love-child between a whine and moan, hopes Bradley realizes it’s a good sound, because his tongue feels thick in his mouth, unable to form proper words, his breath stuttering in and out. He’s been turned on for hours, getting more and more desperate for this with every little touch Bradley had given him. And Bradley had known what he was doing, the entire time. His eyes had been dark with arousal as he held Jake in his arms as they danced, running his fingers over the back of Jake’s hand, placing soft kisses on the side of Jake’s jaw. Every single look and touch a promise for later.

                “Fuck Jake… how are you so fucking perfect. God.”

                Bradley’s thrusting, quick quick sloooow, pushingin fast and relentless, but dragging out slowly, his breathing shifting to shuddery exhales as he clearly lets himself feel Jake’s body around him. Pushing back in quickly before repeating the slow drag out. Over and over and over. Quick quick sloooow. He desperately wants to touch his cock now, is shifting against nothing in the vain hope he might get some friction, something, anything. He can see the head, dark against the unintentional framing of his white shirt, can feel dampness where his own precum has been caught on the fabric.

                “Yeah, your cock looks so good against your shirt. So pretty…” Bradley says, his voice rough in Jake’s ear as he continues to move, kissing at Jake’s ear, jaw, lips; all while thrusting. Quick quick sloooow. “You’re close…” Jake blinks. Is he? His body and brain don’t feel attached right now and he realizes that yeah, he is. Bradley now knows his body that well. “Come on Jake, come on my cock. Nothing but my cock.”

                That punches the breath out of him and he comes, hard, his body straining to release everything, all his muscles seeming to flex and then immediately relax simultaneously and he shudders, shakes and then he feels Bradley shaking above him, his groans sounding beautifully broken and he was true to his word. Jake is definitely messed up, his shirt and stomach now damp and sticky, the tie stretched and twisted in Bradley’s hands. Then he has both of Bradley’s hands on him, tie and wrists released, instead it seems like Bradley wants to touch every inch of him and he lets him.

…             …             …

                Jake stands there and it’s the first time Bradley has seen him in uniform, knows he must no longer be on leave and his stomach falls. It’s been a couple of days since they’ve seen each other and yeah, this is definitely not sexy in the slightest.

                “Guess you’re on a plane or boat out of here soon huh?”

                “Yeah, two days. Just. I’ll be gone for five months.”

                “Guess I’ll be seeing you then. You get to visit all your other people in all the other ports…”

                “And if I only want one person. And one port…?” Jake asks and Bradley blinks.

                “You asking me to go steady?” Bradley teases, although the intent of his question is dead serious. “When you’re about to leave me for five months?”

                “Yep. Guess I am. Taking a leaf out of your book and stating what I want. Clearly. No room for misinterpretation.”

                “I approve. Always in favor of being upfront with what you want.”

                “And what do you want?”

                “Right now? To take my new long-distance boyfriend to bed. In five months? To be there when he steps off his plane or boat when he comes home to me…”

                “And take him to bed then too I hope.”

                “Of course.”

#Hangster #Sereshaw #rooster x hangman #Take more chances - Dance more dances