Please, I'll be good
Masterlist here.
Word count: 1,200+
Synopsis: after rescuing you in the heat of battle, he can no longer contain his desires for you. He was so good. He can keep being good if it means you'll keep kissing him.
Koby, Sanji, Corazon, Sabo, Buggy, Shachi, Ace, Penguin
Themes: unrequited love, semi-sub!love-interest x semi-dom!reader, gn!reader, kissing, confessions of love, he sits on your lap, he is incredibly needy, he just wants to kiss you, fully clothed, sfw, literally just kissing, you call him "sweetheart," brief mention of 'reader' having a friends-with-benefits relationship with another character.
Notes: I couldn't get this kiss out of my head, and I needed to write it down. It was written with Sabo in mind, but I could seriously see any of these wonderful men in his position. I love writing kisses 🖤
Tag list: @lostfirefly @sordidmusings @writingmysanity @since-im-already-here @carrotsunshine @gingernut1314 @feral-artistry
He saved you. Again.
Whether it was standing beside him in combat, rescuing you from unwanted attention at a tavern, ensuring you were well fed and hydrated during the day, taking care of all the supplies you needed upon your next adventure - he was always there by your side: your associate, confidant and friend.
In this set of unique circumstances, he managed to do more for you than simply tear you from combat. He saved you. Truly, saved you.
A finishing shot was aimed at you, and your body froze in place. With your eyes wide, he snatched you from your stance and whisked you from your place in the heat of battle.
After checking you for injuries, he cupped your cheek and uttered with all sincerity: “You're safe. I've got you.”
“Thank you, Sweetheart,” was all you managed to whisper in your shock, a name you had bestowed to him, half in jest, that simply stuck. He was a sweetheart, and you had no choice but to refer to him as such.
The relationship between the two of you was strong, as close as close friends could be. You shared your deepest secrets with him, and he shared his thoughts with you. You adored him, everything about him just sang to your soul.
At one stage early on in your comradery, you could've seen yourself diving into something deeper with him. But as you both opened yourself up more in your friendship, you chose to halt it in place. “Flirty friends,” is how you'd refer to it, “Just flirty friends.”
Casually lounging on the plush sofa beside him, you notice he's a little more on edge than usual. He's sitting up straight, rigid and firm beside you as his eyes fix on a point on the wooden panel behind the unwoken transponder.
Attempting to put him at ease, you sit up a little and rest your head on his shoulder and bring your hand up to encase his within yours.
“Thank you again, Sweetheart,” your words whisper as you trace gentle circles into the back of his hand with your thumb, “You're always so good to me.”
His body seemed to tense up more, the softest hitch in his breath alerting you of his discomfort.
“Are you okay?” You ask, leaning away from his shoulder to glance into his face. His eyes remain fixed on the point, his teeth clenched behind his closed lips.
In one final attempt to put him more at ease, you lean up and gently touch your lips to his right cheek. A soft gasp along with the turn of his cheek inwards had you pull away from him to check in one more.
“Sweetheart, what's wrong-?” You attempt to ask, he immediately speaks over the top of your concerned tone with an unsure and elevated tone. He avoided your gaze with his eyes, but kept his face turned towards you.
"-Look, I know you've got someone. M-Maybe even a couple of someone's. I know I'm not what you want-...” He utters quickly, his words tumbling over his lips faster than he can hold them back, “...-I just want you to know that you're what I want. You're the only one I want. If you could be that for me, for just a little while, I'll be so good to you. Please.”
You're left stunned. You’d often play into your friendship a little with some light banter and flirting, simply to see how far he'll play along. Flustering him, watching him hide his smile by downturning his face, was one of your favorite things to behold. Whether you were working, or relaxing in your home for the night with a few of the others - he was often flustered with your words and body language.
He quickly turned his head more and angled his chin down, seeking out your lips with his own. He hovered just before making contact, dancing with the borders of friendship and giving in to his craving for something more.
“I suppose you do need something beyond a simple kiss on the cheek this time,” you smiled at him, cradling his cheek beneath your right hand and drawing him closer, “You've been so unbelievably good to me, afterall.”
Smiling broadly, you lean forward to press your lips gently against his in a chaste kiss. He deeply and sharply inhaled through his nose, a subtle whimper rising from within his mouth. This small peck ended as soon as it began, his body chasing yours upon your retreat. He wordlessly called with his body to you, beckoning you into another kiss.
You give him just a touch more than the kiss prior: a real kiss that is deep, long and loving. A kiss that leaves him begging for more and more. Any time he thinks you may end it, any time that you start to slow down or lighten the pressure, he’s grasping to have you impossibly closer and begging you not to break your lips from his.
In his mind, he is crying for you, screaming for this moment to never cease. “Just give me a little more, anything. I'm sorry I'm not what you want but could you please keep doing it? Please, please? As a reward?”
“I was good!” He continued his inner monologue, hungrily claiming your lips against his own, “I can keep being good for you.”
You could feel his desperation from each kiss he placed upon your lips, hungrily seeking more and more each time he broke one kiss to lead into another.
“I’ll be so good,” he whispered into your skin, his breath tickling against your lips as your eyes widened in response, “Please. I'll be good. So, so good.”
“Sweetheart- mmmfph!” you whispered his name as he consumed your words with his mouth hurridly, his eyes flinching as he drew his body closer.
“Y-Yes?” He stuttered, his knees crawling up onto the cushioned base of the sofa as he prowled towards you. You responded by inching away from him and bringing your hands down to cup behind his thighs.
Urging him towards you with your hands, you press your back against the frame of the back-rest of the sofa, and usher him to straddle your lap. His hands flew up to your cheeks, his long fingertips finding the hair behind your ears and lacing them within it.
He hastily pressed his lips into yours, turning his head and moaning against your mouth. Prying open your lips with his, he hurriedly sought your tongue out with his own: savoring every moment you were granting him your undivided romantic attention.
Raking your hands over his thighs, you drew them up to his hips: fingers dancing along the hemline of his shirt. He winced away, a huffed laugh in reaction to your gentle touch, a laugh that caught within his mouth as you tickled his skin.
He reached his hands down over your own, breaking your contact away from his stomach and placed them on the back rest beside your head. He interlaced his fingers with your own, deepening the kiss as you took every moment of affection he was pressing into you.
“Sweetheart,” you whispered once more, attempting to break away your lips from his to no avail.
“Please,” he whimpered against your lips, “Please, let me keep kissing you,” he sobbed, kissing the corner of your lips and uttering, “I just want to kiss you.”
Your eyes widened, darting down to his lips and back to his beautiful eyes. Your lips parted as you began articulating your thoughts, halting only as he drew his fingers to your lips and pressed against them softly.
“Please.”
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Little Wing (John Brady x OC)
Summary: Kate "Woody" Woodward and John Brady have it bad for each other, except Woody's convinced he doesn't care for her and Brady's convinced he messed up his shot with her. They prove each other wrong.
Note: Woody and Brady’s first kiss fic yay🤭 Title comes from the Jimi Hendrix song (which is on Woody’s playlist). I know I keep saying this, but I’m so overwhelmed with the response to Woody/Brady, I didn’t expect it at all, and it means so much to me🖤 Do not interact if you’re under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.
Word count: 1.6k
Warnings: Inevitable historical and technical inaccuracies. Suggestive to a point, but not explicit. Light miscommunication plotline.
Darla had been the one who pointed it out. The Texan wasn’t one for biting her tongue, and expressed earlier that day while they were eating lunch with Meg that John Brady wasn’t making himself scarce around the hardstand, or the hangar. Wherever that downed plane of his was while they were working on it, he’d inevitably show up at some point.
“‘S like he don’t think we can fix a damn plane,” Darla said through a mouthful of toast, stale from that morning’s breakfast. The guys in the kitchen knew the three of them weren’t ones to pass up food just because it was a few hours old.
“I got the same thing at my pop’s shop back home. These fellas would bring in their cars and tell ‘im they didn’t want me workin’ on them. Half of ‘em didn’t even know how to change a tire,” Meg agreed, her thick Boston accent making Woody have to strain to understand what she was saying sometimes.
Darla shook her head. “Some ‘a these flyboys, I swear to god they got more swagger than sense.”
Woody didn’t want to tell them that Brady’s frequenting their work area might have coincided with the one day he showed up to check on how things were going, and she apparently struck a nerve by trying to be nice—something she was rusty at despite her best efforts. So he’d hang around and watch, sometimes not saying very much at all while puffing away at his pipe. Made her feel tantalizingly scrutinized beneath his stormy gaze.
His crew were all nice enough guys. A little rowdy sometimes, but nothing she couldn’t handle. Still, their pilot’s recent behavior made it tough for her to shake the feeling that he wasn’t all that fond of her. A damn shame, because she had it bad for him. Figured it was the first time she was into a guy who was decent.
Earlier that week, Hambone waited out the English rain in the hangar with her, telling her what he and the rest of them did before the war. Mostly recent high school graduates or everyday working guys. She didn’t find it surprising that the pilot had a degree, but almost couldn’t believe her ears when Hambone told her that Brady was a musician before the war. If anyone deserved to walk around with the swagger most of the pilots did, it was Brady, in her opinion, yet to her, he seemed level-headed and reserved.
She had left lunch with Darla and Meg that afternoon with a newfound resolve to win Brady over somehow. If not for her own sake, then to at least not make her own faux pas the other girls’ problem.
Her quip to Holly about John Brady and his cockpit was mostly for her best friend’s amusement. Anything in her past she’d remotely consider a relationship boiled down to little more than sex. Never exclusive, and never all that satisfying, either.
Woody nearly scoffed at herself. As if he’d want anything to do with a woman like her.
“Evening, Lieutenant,” she said as he walked up.
He sighed, taking his pipe out of his mouth. “You don’t have to be so formal, Woody. It’s just us out here.”
“Bucky and Holly are listening to the Yankees at the Nationals.” She nodded in the direction of the jeep in the distance. “They made some bet on it.”
“I hardly think that counts considering how far they are.”
She hesitated. “If you say so.” Stopped herself from adding ‘sir’ at the end.
The following ten or so minutes were all hers. Pointed out every inch of the plane that’d been worked on since he last came by. Had an answer for all of his questions or concerns. She didn’t miss a single detail, wanting him to know yes, she was serious, and yes, she could fix a damn plane. Got the same thrill she did when she’d tell people how she souped up their cars to race, watching the appreciation and at times disbelief for her work on their face.
“Still got some kinks to work out, but it should be coming along a lot quicker now,” she said.
“You did all of that since yesterday?”
“I can’t take all the credit. Darla and Meg helped out, too.”
He cracked a grin, his pipe between his teeth. “You’re pretty damn good, Woody.”
She smiled. Her heart might’ve skipped a beat or two. “Thank you.”
“You must’ve been a mechanic before this, huh?”
“Here and there,” she said. Eager to steer the conversation away from herself, she quickly added, “You’re a musician, aren’t you?”
“I am. I got my degree in music, too.”
“Let me guess what you play…” She folded her arms across her chest. “You don’t strike me as a tuba man.”
The slightest smile worked its way onto his face. “No, I’m not.”
“Way too smart to be playing the triangle.”
“Hey, don’t count out the triangle.”
“You’re pulling my leg!” She laughed, silently proud of herself for not saying 'You're fucking with me' which otherwise would've been her reflexive response. “Alright, I’m gonna make my real guess now.” She pursed her lips as she considered her options. “Clarinet?”
He nodded. “And saxophone.”
“Both? Oh, I’d love to hear you play sometime,” she said. “Either. Whichever one you like best.”
“I play with the band in the officer’s club once in a while. You should come by. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you there.”
“I’m not an officer.”
“I’ll make sure no one kicks you out.”
“Are you offering to be my personal muscle?” she half-joked.
He shook his head, smiling. “I don’t think you need it, but sure.”
“Thanks, John,” she said. “Unless you prefer Jack? Or just John?”
“What do you think suits me?” he asked.
“Well, I like Johnny, if you’re really asking.” She smiled like she was letting him in on a secret, like she knew all along he’d be Johnny to her.
It was her eyes that got him, though. The same green he saw when someone else made her laugh or how just about everyone seemed to have some anecdote about Woody—how she helped them out or told a joke that was just the thing to lift their spirits. But for all of the stories about Woody, the undertones of admiration or outright expressions of desire within them, nobody had one like his. Kissed his cheek without hesitation. Looked at him with those forest green eyes he could lose a hundred years in. Just when he was sure he had his chance and missed it, he was Johnny, and instead of getting lost in that forest, he knew exactly where he was going, how to push his way through and find her.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” she muttered, staring above them and shaking her head.
Woody grabbed a screwdriver and kicked over a wooden milk crate that had seen better days. She tentatively placed her boot on it, pressing down a moment before stepping up.
“What are you doing?”
“I can’t reach otherwise.”
“That thing’s about as flimsy as cardboard,” he said, setting his pipe aside. “You’ll break your neck.” His strong hands were on her hips before he finished speaking. Held her steady as she stood on top of the crate.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he said.
She worked in silence until she stood on her toes, and the crate wobbled ominously beneath her. “I can’t see. Can you get me a flashlight and—”
He squeezed her hips in frustration. “Woody, just do it tomorrow. It’s not worth getting hurt over.”
“Help me down, Johnny?” she asked, turning slightly in his hold, her eyes flashed an unmistakable desire that nearly sent him to his knees.
He kept one hand on her waist, the other holding her free hand as she stepped down from the crate. A flash of red spread across her cheeks, and he was drawn in closer like a moth to flame, following her to the nearby toolbox where she put the screwdriver back in place, double-checking the contents before locking it up for the night.
“You got something…” His thumb brushed just below her lip. They stared at each other in silence, voice caught in his throat before he closed the gap between them, cradling her chin in his hand as he kissed her.
A shock to her system, there was something uniquely vulgar in his tenderness. Past lips on her own had been rough and selfish, part of a song and dance she grew tired of by the time she was nineteen. To be kissed with such care at twenty-three made her skin burn for more.
She grabbed his collar, pulling him closer. Threatened to lose herself in the embrace, almost unsure of where Woody ended and John began.
He caught her bottom lip between his teeth for a moment. She shuddered when he released it and pressed a hungry kiss to his lips, her want betraying her with a soft whimper.
She felt him pulling away and thought her heart was going to beat out of her chest. “Johnny, don’t go. Not yet,” she whispered pleadingly, raking her fingers through his hair.
It didn’t take much else for him to give in, losing himself in that forest in her eyes. “Is there anything you’re not good at?”
“Being good,” she answered, “and I was getting better at that until you got here not even an hour ago.”
He smiled, eyes glistening almost mischievously. “Well, I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
“Am I your sweetheart?”
“If you want to be.”
She smiled. “I’d like that a lot.”
“Good, I wouldn’t want you to be anyone else’s,” he said, kissing her forehead.
“Me either.”
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pit babe ep 7 stray thoughts
- way made him feel undeserving of love….
- so jeff is like that cause he’s plagued by visions..
- ok now i get the peteway posts. oh ways pathetic nature and whiny bitch demeanor have captivated pete body and soul
- oh way might be my little meow meow of the show
- oh god oh fuck i might be a peteway boy
- kim needs to kiss winner to shut him up
- omg person who hurt protagonist was antagonist pikachu surprise face
- scream this is so dramatic. the scheming it’s all coming together (also peep kentakim this is for you le trash prince)
- ok so this is where we find out tony wants to sell babe for bitching
- AH CHARLIES THERE THE DRAMA
- do they know charlie’s powers also who WAIT IS THIS A NUTHPHOP BALLADnvm just sounded like ambivalent thoughts
- way seems happy i don’t trust this. is he about to break
- oh he is oh no it’s babe. oh i think someone’s gonna ugly cry it can go either way at this point. babe sweeeeep
- oh… maybe i don’t want this babe babe nooooooo nooooooo. oh he’s gonna close his heart off to other people now isn’t he oh fuck noooooooo SOMEONE STOP HIS THOUGHT LROCESS PPLEASE
- i don’t understand ways face here i need subtitles but for facial expressions
- oh poor puppy
- does anyone know if they make the music in house
- this ep might be my fav so far….
- is way an omega y’all
- there’s been a shift in babe…. i can’t explain it but something changed in the last 20 min
- babe being an easy cryer is so important to me actually
- ooo surveillance being a theme again lets goooo
- SCREAM CHARLIE BACKSTORY AND MOTIVSTION OH GOD ITS HAPOENING EVERYBODY STAY CALM STAY FUCKING CALM
- charlie trauma enthusiasts let’s gooooo
- tony is so fucking evil i hope charlie rips his face off
- how wild would it be if winner was an enigma. like he’s not but could you imagine
- actually i need kenta to rip tony’s face off
- does charlie know about his power. does anyone
- babe looking like a wet feral cat i need to lie down
- SCREAM HE JUST FLAT OUT TELLS BABE LIKE THAY?!,!?!?! like i’d be scared to get punched like ???? it’s wild he just flat out says i took your power like wow i thought he’d lie at least a little
- these flashbacks can never be happy can they… always gotta leave you horny and destroyed
- charlie being like “don’t worry i can fix this. if you want i can just kill myself” like broooooo
- scream do you think charlie woke up one day like “damn he smells fine today” skejdjfjejrjr
- “can mama not break up with papa 🥺” “ 😒😑😩 fine”
- honestly i get babe if someone took away my sensory issues id still fuck them. much more enthusiastically then before probably. i get him now liking kissing too like this makes perfect sense to me
- oh way….. oh god this pathetic man nothing can go right for him ever ima creaming
- i also get babe because charlie is so cute id fold immediately like so what you stole my super powers look at your cutie patootie self how could i stay mad
- oh here we go car sex scene- are they talking about booty holes rn is this happening on my screen… good for them
- oh way… i’m so sorry my baby boy im so sorry… honestly he’s stronger than me i would’ve been throwing shit THE BOUQUET
- ok so are the only ones with special powers jeff babe and charlie (and way ??)
- NORTHSONIC these absolute clowns. does he not understand adoption i love him. nosrthdaonic aenwwvehtjrngn l. what are these two talking about. way omega confirmation ????
- sonic get your boy on a leash his poor impulse control and lack of common sense is staggering
- kim kinda right like let him cook oh ew fuck tony for that too
well what an ep
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