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suncoved · 8 months

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STOP IT RAFE, YOU'RE BEING MEAN! — RAFE CAMERON

pairing; bestfriend!rafe cameron x fem!reader

summary; rafe has a strict rule that if you ever leave anywhere, you tell him. and when you break that rule, he goes ballistic (bsf!rafe cameron x reader)

warnings ; angst! verbal fighting, angry!rafe, kinda mean rafe, theyre both annoyingly oblivious.. warning this did not turn out how i planned it to be but im also not mad at it, idkkkk

to say you were bored was an understatement.

it was a regular rowdy saturday night in the outerbanks, this nights party being at a random kooks house on the figure eight whose name you couldn't quite remember

you were nursing a forgotten red solo cup of punch in your hand, crowd-watching to pass the time.

it wasn't normal that rafe actually succeeded in convincing you to come to these things. because as much as you liked chatting with spoiled self-absorbed kooks over disgustingly sweet punch, you'd rather stay cuddled up in your fluffy pyjamas and watch sappy romcoms on rafe's couch.

but nevertheless, here you were. dreading every decision you had ever made up to that point as you watched rafe from across the room. a blonde kook girl climbing over him and straddling his hips, sitting on his lap as he smirked.

you knew you really had no right being mad at him because you weren’t dating.

but from the start of your more than 10 year friendship, rafe made it clear that you were and always will be his.

so why didn’t that rule go both ways?

with all the thoughts bouncing around in your head, you failed to hear a certain blonde pouges voice echo around you.

you snapped out of your state, consciousness returning to your mind as a hand was waved repeatedly in your face.

“hey! you there princess?” a smile adorned the boys face, a ratty snapback placed backwards on his blonde hair.

“yeah, jj. right here” you joked, smiling brightly back at him as you brought your cup up to your lips.

“thought we lost you there for a bit princess? what’d you doing standing here all alone?” jj asked, surprised to see your constant kook king shadow nowhere to be seen.

“just people watching, the usual. where’s kie?” you quickly changed the subject, wanting anything to get your mind off of rafe.

“around here somewhere i hope. gonna’ try to round everyone up to we can get outta here. early morning for us cut goers tomorrow, fish to catch and things to steal” you giggled at his joke, earning an even wider grin on his face.

you always liked jj. you thought he was funny, and he was the most loyal person to his friends that you knew. and despite his manic tendencies, you trusted him.

“have a nice night j. drive safe!” you said, watching him wink at you before he disappeared into the crowd.

with jj gone, you were left to your own thoughts agian, which was never a good thing.

you glanced over again at rafe sitting comfortably on the couch on the deck. the light from inside illuminating his face as he leaned over to the table, picking up a small bag of white powder and handing it to a random touran.

you bit your lip as you noticed the same blonde from before clinging to his side, rafe seeming unbothered but making no move to push her off.

god, you couldn’t even imagine how rafe would react if he saw you speaking to jj earlier. so why is it that he can literally let a girl dry hump him in the middle of a party and you shouldn’t care?

you didn’t know why you cared though, because rafe is you best friend, nothing more.

right?

you didn’t have time to think about that right now though, you just needed to get the fuck out of this party right now or you were gonna explode.

an idea clicked in your brain and jj dragged a drunk john b towards the entrance of the house, kiara and pope following quickly behind.

you decided that this was now or never, placing your red solo cup onto a random table as you walked towards them.

“hey jj!” you called out, his head immediately snapping towards you. “you think you could give me a ride home?”

it was nearly 30 minutes later that rafe noticed you were no longer in your spot in corner of the house. business was coming to a halt as he sold his last few grams of cocaine, a heavy wad of cash safely resting in his back pocket.

his eyes scanned the crowd for your face, but you were no where to be seen.

and rafe was starting to freak the fuck out.

he knew you wouldn’t go upstairs to any bedrooms, or go out for an impulse swim in the pool. and he knew most of all that you wouldn’t just leave without telling him, and the notification box in his voice remained empty from your contact.

he ran his hand roughly through his hair, pulling aggressively at the roots and cussing to himself frustrated.

his eyes widened as he saw your friend in the crowd, interrupting what ever useless conversation she was having, because until he knew you were safe, nothing was more important.

he asked rudely where you were, watching as her face morphed into shock that rafe was talking to her. because well, if it’s not plotting on the pouges or selling drugs, rafe doesn’t interact with anyone but you or his friends.

“i-i im not sure. i saw her leave like a bit less than half an hour ago. i thought she told you, she always does”

rafe clenched his jaw, hundreds and thousands of thoughts running through his head. “was she alone?”

“n-no. she was with that jj guy and his friends” your friend murmured, nervous she was ratting you out to the scariest guy in the whole of kildare.

it was safe to say that rafe was fucking pissed.

it took him less than a few seconds to put his keys into the ignition of his jeep and drive illegally fast to your house. you liked to piss him off often when you were in a mood, but never with your safety.

rafe never fucked with your safety, ever.

he murmured venomous cusses to himself and he walked towards your house, the pebbles from your mothers perfect drive way crunching under his feet as he speed to your door.

he made a beeline to the entrance of your home, the white arches welcoming and the doorway dimly lit by the porch lights.

he planted his feet straight on the 'welcome home' door mat, lifting his balled fist up to the door and sending booming knocks to the wood panel.

his knuckles were white as he clenched his fists so hard together there was sure to be crimson-red crescent indents from his fingernails. he was fuming.

the click of the lock releasing from the door snapped him out of his thoughts, the door handle turning and the lobby of the inside of your house quickly coming into view.

he locked eyes with your figure immediately, a pink fluffy towel in your hand as you dried your hair. you were only wearing a pair of long socks and rafes shirt which reached more than halfway down your thighs, your face bare of makeup.

you jumped as you saw the look on his face, an anger prevalent in his stare that you had never seen directed at you. fuck. you were in some deep shit.

you parted your lips to speak, but nothing seemed to come out. for the first time in your life, you were scared of rafe. not that he was going to harm you physically, no, never that.

but you knew how much he cared about you and your safety. you just wished he cared that much about your feelings. you wanted him to see that.

"rafe" you said, your voice coming out as a whisper as you watch the lines on his forehead crease together as thousands of thoughts ran through his head.

"what the fuck were you thinking?" he spat as he pushed you as softly as he could into the house so he could close the door, worried the cold of the night was going to make you shiver.

you didn't have time to answer before he started again, running a hand roughly through his hair as he huffed. "you just left? you fucking left a party at night without even texting me, and you let that fucking pouge drive you home!"

you rolled your eyes at the last statement, this was all about jj? "so that's all you care about? me going home with a boy i've known since third grade who just so happens to live on the cut? you don't give a shit about me, you just care about this stupid kook pouge rivalry!"

"don't say what you know isn't true ma. you know i care about you more than i care about myself." he stated, nearly all the anger in him draining out as he saw your eyes begin to fill with tears. he couldn't handle seeing you cry.

"how do i know you care about me rafe? because you don't seem to show it." you sighed pushing yourself as far away from him as you could, your back pushing up against the wall.

"don't fucking say to me y/n. i've loved you from the moment i met you." you finally stopped looking at the floor, lifting your chin so you made eye contact with him.

"stop it rafe, you're being mean" you whispered, mostly to yourself more than rafe. you couldn't listen to him say how much he loved and cared about you for one more second. not when you still had the picture of him being essentially dry-humped in the middle of a party by a girl you didn't even know.

"ma i love you. you know that. you're my world, my favourite girl. why are you fighting this?" rafe said, trying to hold you wrist in his hand before you quickly pulled it away.

"bec-because you can't just say all this then turn around and have make outs with other girls right in front of me. it-its not fair." you spoke, the tears finally making their way down your cheeks in steady streams.

rafe physically flinched at your statement, his palms getting sweaty and his heart rate increasing into rapid beats. was he actually going to admit his love for you right now, like this?

"what are you saying y/n?" he asked, his voice cracking as his face fell. his mind racing with how many outcomes could come out of this conversation.

"that i love you, you idiot!"

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron drabble #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron angst

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cozage · 8 months

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Hello, first of all, congrats on 2k followers, you deserve that and more ♡

I would like to request on the option 1, a scenario with Zoro, Sanji and Luffy (and if you can, Law, Ace and/or Kid) where the reader asks "could you hold something for me?", and the reader gives them their hand to hold.

Thank you in advance, hope you have a lovely day ♡

Characters: gn reader x Zoro, Sanji, Luffy, Law Total word count:700

A Hand to Hold

Zoro

He’s napping on the deck of the Sunny when you stride over to him and sit down next to him

He peeks his good eye open just a fraction of an inch, trying to see what you want.

“Can you hold something for me?”

“Can’t you get someone else to-”

“Zoro!”

“Fine!” He holds his hand out, slightly irritated.

You place your hand into his, watching his reaction closely.

Immediate response? He would just deadpan and stare at you.

“Why? Why did you give me this? Is it bleeding or-”

“No Zoro!” you giggled. “Just hold it.”

“Did Luffy put you up to this? Or Nami? Or that damn-”

“No!” you said, starting to pout. The mood was ruined. “Just forget it.”

As you pull your hand away, he grips it a little tighter. When you look back at him, he’s got a little bit of blush across his cheeks.

“I’ll hold it,” he grumbled, closing his eyes. “As long as it doesn’t interrupt any more of my nap.”

Sanji

As soon as you walk through the door, you can smell your favorite dessert being made.

But Sanji is nowhere to be found.

“Sanji,” you called. “Can you hold something for me?”

“Of course, my love!” he shouted from the pantry, and a moment later he rushes out and toward you.

His hands are empty, already forgetting whatever he was planning to grab in exchange for what you need him for.

He holds his hand out, and when you place your hand in his, he looks at it, confused for a moment.

He’s afraid he had misheard you. “What did you need again?” he asked.

“I needed you to hold something.” You give his hand a light squeeze.

“Your…hand?”

You smile, trying to hold back a laugh. “My hand.”

He crumples to the ground, overwhelmed with emotion. For a second you’re worried you’ve killed him, but he’s still breathing, thankfully.

Luffy

“Luffy!” You shouted to your captain, who was at his seat on the figurehead. “Can you hold something for me?”

He groaned at your request, not wanting to leave his seat. “Come up here and give it to me!”

You joined him at his seat on Sunny’s head and sat next to him, waiting for him to hold his hand out.

“What do you need me to hold?” he asked, looking at you with confusion.

“My hand,” you said, placing your hand in his.

“Oh.” Luffy shrugged, looking back out to sea. “For how long?”

You smiled. “For however long you want.”

“We could make a game out of it.”

That piqued your interest. “A game?”

He grinned mischeviously. “Yeah! Hang on for as long as you can!”

Suddenly he shot his other arm out to the mast, and the two of you flew threw the air, gripping onto each other for dear life.

Law

You walked into his lab, looking for the golden-eyed doctor.

“Law!” You turned the corner to find him measuring out a strange liquid. “Can you hold something for me?”

“Kinda busy,” he mumbles, his teeth gritted in concentration. “Can someone else help you?”

You giggle. “I don’t think so. I can wait,” you said, plopping yourself down on a nearby stool and opening a book.

After a few minutes, he finally turns to you. “What is it?”

“I need you to hold something.” You held your hand out in a fist, as if you were holding something.

“Is this one of yours and Shachi’s pranks?” he asked. But he trusts you (most of the time), and holds his hand out to take whatever you had.

You quickly intertwine your fingers with his, clutching his hand tightly. “Thanks.” You return to your book without another word.

“Your hand?” he asks, nervously glancing back at his project. “Can we do this later? I’m kind of on a timetable with that mixture.”

You frowned. “Fine. But I’m adding interest.”

“Deal,” he said, pulling his hand away and running back to his project.

You were a little hurt, but he quickly realized his error and ran back to you, plopping a kiss on the top of your head before rushing back to the table.

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cloudzoro · 3 months

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Zoro says ‘Scars on the back are a swordsman's shame,’ but that doesn't apply to you.

Zoro is obsessed with you leaving scratches on his back. The stinging of your nails on his back has him growling in your ear as he thrusts into you harder. The way you claw at his shoulders lets him know he's fucking you good. It's also a subtle act of possession, marking him as yours. He understands that you're his, and he's yours, but there's something about a physical reminder that gets him hot and bothered. Heart and soul, you own him.

Sometimes you apologise for leaving marks, but you're always met with a shake of his head and him telling you not to apologise because he loves the feeling of your nails scraping his back.

He works out, shirtless, on the deck every morning. Sanji walks out, and the smile on his face drops when he notices the red marks decorating Zoro's muscles. He knows Sanji likes you - who doesn't? - so, any chance to show off that you chose him gives him an ego boost.

“Woah, Zoro, you look like a wild animal has mauled you”, says Usopp. There's not a single shred of shame on Zoro's face when he simply flexes his muscles and goes back to working out.

When the lines start to fade, he insists that you have to do it again, to make sure they don't fade. He feels that being in your presence makes him lose all sense.

“let me fuck you, baby” he says, he pins you against a wall. “I want you to leave your mark on me as I stretch this pretty pussy out.” He pushes his cock onto you and you arch into him, with nowhere to put your hands. You do as he asks and reach over his shoulders, sinking your nails into the back of his shoulders. The groan that leaves him is deep and makes you clench around him. “that's my girl”

He wears your marks with pride, as if they're honourable battle wounds.

#zoro smut #zoro x reader #zoro x reader smut #fem reader #fem!reader #one piece smut #one piece x reader #☁️.onepiece #☁️.smut #☁️.zoro

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ma1dita · 3 months

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bedtime stories

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: bitch this was supposed to be a blurb. 2.4k

summary: (pre-established relationship) The one where night shift with him runs late, but you don't mind at all. You won’t admit a lot of things to Luke Castellan, but perhaps he knows something you don’t. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader

warnings: none, banter and fluff on a night shift

a/n: Introducing luke castellan x trouble!reader… this is just gonna be ongoing blurbs and one shots of an idea in my head (and my latest hyperfixation) reader is essentially reformed unhinged bitch now camp mom and it’s enemies to friends to lovers. Working through reading the pjo series hehe

(posted 1/16/24, beta’ed by the lovely @ttulipwritezz @mrsaluado & @lixzey thank you bunches)

—

Dragging your feet across the dirt of the forest floor, you sigh to yourself in the quiet night air. It’s gonna be another long night and with the beep on your digital watch, you blearily peer at the time and sigh. Almost 11. Swaying slightly, you whistle a familiar tune as your nimble hands straighten out the deck chairs near the firepit, pick up trash to toss into the receptacle, and turn off the lights in the dining hall. All on the way to check Cabin 7, mind you, and the Apollo kids will undoubtedly loop you into singing a song with them before you shut the lights off and close the curtains.

Gods, your dad is definitely gonna hear about this in the morning.

It’s not like Mr. D ever really cares, or listens, more focused on droning on about missing his wife and playing pinochle even when you rattle off his…your to-do list for the week to keep Camp Half-Blood running and the younger demigods in mostly one piece. Honestly, he should be grateful he has you, and even if he is, he’ll never let you hear it. At least you’re Chiron’s favorite.

A shadow passes your field of view, and before you can rub at your sleepy eyes, strong hands pin you to the side of a tree on the dirt path you were supposed to take across camp.

Sorry, let’s correct that—you’re one of Chiron’s favorites. The other all-star camper stares at you like you’re a three-headed dog under the beam of his flashlight.

“Just me, Castellan,” you grumble, a bit winded as you blink harshly at the bright light. “Still doing checks.”

“You’re losing your touch. You making a habit of going to bed late?” Luke smirks, and it’s actually annoying how he always looks like he knows something you don’t.

“You always pin campers to trees?”

“Just the pretty ones.” His smirk turns into a sly grin that makes you roll your eyes.

“Okay loser, I’ve got cabins to check,” you drone as you push off from the tree. “6 cut into my time after staying there longer than I had to. The little ones kept asking these otherworldly philosophical questions and Annabeth just laughed at me while I tried to not pluck my eyelashes out one by one.”

Your clipboard taps lightly against your hip despite the aggression in your voice and Luke laughs much like his little sister, a burst of sunlight overflowing into the dreary and mundane. Your lips quirk upward before you can stop and remind yourself of who you’re talking to. The tall boy reaches behind him to scratch the nape of his neck and sighs, sucking at his teeth.

“You’re always doing the most, huh?”

“Who else is going to, my dad? He’s probably already out like a light.” Once, you found your dad asleep at his desk after dinner, snoring loudly instead of keeping watch. You started taking more night shifts after that.

“Well, no. You know I’m here to help you, even if you’ll never admit it.” Luke extends a hand to you so it’s easier to navigate the step back onto the dirt-trodden path, but there’s no fun in that, so you hop around him and start walking away. The sound of his footsteps fall and match yours as he follows you, both in tandem like the sound of a steady heartbeat.

“The day you catch me admitting anything about you is the day the Underworld freezes over. You should know that by now.”

“Woooooow, so I don’t get a thank you for singing the Apollo kids to sleep? You should’ve seen the look on their faces when I walked in and not you. They ended the song pretty quickly after I opened my mouth to croak out a chorus,” he says, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth and nudging your side as you both laugh.

He’s a terrible singer, to be honest. Not even the Fates would’ve expected that from someone who otherwise seems like a perfect boy. Sometimes you wonder what he’s done in a past life to have it so easy–to look like he’s been chiseled by Michelangelo, have the athletic prowess of ten Spartan soldiers, and the heart of a hero only legends could get right. He’s probably the closest thing to an actual hero here at camp. You often find yourself looking at him in hopes of finding a crack in the porcelain of his perfection, but any fault of his seems to just build up his endurance in his quest for glory.

Maybe that’s why your dad doesn’t like him, his aspirations for something greater than the camp that’s kept you safe all these years, though the multiple complaints and headaches the both of you have given him as squabbling teenagers must’ve added onto that. Sometimes, though, the way he helps ease your load prods a funny feeling you do your best not to acknowledge in your stomach. Luke walks ahead shining the flashlight onto the dark path so you both don’t trip. It’s there now, at the sight of him offering an arm for you to latch onto to hop over fallen branches.

Mental note: tell the satyrs to move that in the morning.

As you hurdle over the brambles, you let go immediately after you steady your feet, moving his hand that’s holding the flashlight back towards the path with no other words. You are your father’s daughter after all, and he knows this—stubborn and your name have the same face.

Moving further towards your destination, the light reveals a teenage couple entangled within each other’s arms at the base of a tree out there for everyone to see in the moonlight.

“Jeez, guys, alright— pack it up, wrap it up! Could’ve at least found somewhere private… It’s curfew already, if I see you two again it’s a citation.”

The boy blushes and mumbles an apology to you, scurrying back to cabin 7, and you raise an eyebrow at a sheepish son of Hermes who swears they were all in their beds when he was singing to them.

“I don’t wanna go back to my cabin, all the boys are gross…” the girl whines, cheeks flushed from embarrassment as she flutters her eyelashes at you and Luke. You sigh. What has the world come to that young demigods are entrusted to the care of two people who barely consider themselves adults?

“Well, if you’re still in 11 with this one,” you simper, blatantly pointing at Luke, “I can’t blame you. He’s gross. Come by mine tomorrow and I’ll get you privacy curtains, okay? Trust me Yvonne, you don’t think boys are all that gross if you like kissing them.”

She nods, smiling charmingly at the two of you, before brushing past Luke and winking, “See you inside!”

Your head swivels to look at Luke with a coy expression, “There’s no way she’s not an Aphrodite.”

Luke huffs as he clicks his flashlight on and off. His hands are always fidgeting, always searching for something to do. He’s more like his dad than he thinks, carrying the quieter traits of quick fingers and more obvious ones like his constant search for amusement. Talking to you consistently satiates that itch.

“Aphrodite isn’t the only god that attracts attractive people, you know.”

“Oh? Do tell, because if she’s one of you, your cabin’s gonna be extra trouble,” your mouth curves into a smile, and he thinks he likes it more when you’re trying to be mean to him like this because the back and forth between you two is a comfort Luke cherishes. The words have lost their bite over the years, and there are no more cuts and bruises besides an occasional wounded ego, but it’s still entertaining, to say the least. He can’t imagine a day without hearing the teasing lilt of your voice, always easy to prod at and always wanting to have the last word.

“My dad is the god of thieves and messengers. We’re fast, smart, charming, and also good-looking. Do the math.”

“Also apparently the ones with the biggest egos, but okay.” There it is. He shoves you and you trip over your own feet falling fast.

“Hey! Jerk.”

“Definitely a daughter of Dionysus, crazy as always, and clumsy too.” Luke’s nose crinkles at the sight of your crumpled frame.

“Your hand is like the size of my face, what the fuck was I supposed to do with that?”

A fleeting thought in the back of your mind reasons that maybe violence is the answer, but he’s still not finished making fun of you even after he helps you up.

“And vulgar! What a shocker.”

“Ugh. You better hope your dad stops populating because if there’s any more that come here and act like you? I’m quitting.”

Luke watches you gaze at the heavens, probably looking for a fuck to give and he snickers at how easily you give in nowadays. Maybe he’s the one losing his touch—usually you’d put up more of a fight to argue.

“You wouldn’t. You love this job. Camp. S’why you’re not as fun anymore, trouble.”

A noise of agreement leaves you as you glare at him and the stupid nickname back from when you used to wreak havoc just because you could, a direct juxtaposition to the honorary position you hold today. Finally following him up the front steps of Cabin 11, Luke opens the door and beckons you in, pushing at your hip with his knuckles.

Checking this place last has become a habit with Luke helping you out, and all the kids—Hermes’, minor gods’, and unclaimed, love it when you come to stop by before lights out. They especially loved the later bedtime, but hugs and cool stories from you were a close second.

“Everyone good and ready for bed in here? Sorry it took so long guys,” you say, visually scanning the perimeter and matching faces to bunks, seeing them all settled beneath their sheets, all except for one Luke Castellan. He’s still leaning against the doorframe, breath grazing your shoulder as he hands you a copy of his log from the other cabins he kindly relieved you from.

“What, no bedtime story this time?” He says through hooded eyes, and though he won’t admit it, he adores the sound of your voice. Luke does anything he can to get your attention to hear it more. It almost has a calming effect on him, and maybe it’s the fact that your dad can cause and cure madness, anxiety, and all alike, so something in him believes you do the same, powers or not. One look from him has you sputtering out snarky remarks; different strategies, same results—works every time.

“Castellan…” He grins at the look on your face, and tiny voices pop up from around the cabin, all asking for a bedtime story. Chris even starts a chant from his top bunk, making you want to hurl your clipboard at his head. Hypnos is calling your name at this point, and you’d do anything to crawl into your own safe haven in Cabin 12, but your heartstrings pull at the sight of the little ones pouting, hoping for you to tuck them in with a blanket of comforting words and stories of something more than what these walls meagerly provide. Camp Half-Blood only keeps them safe for so long, and not a lot of them make it out of here alive. You and Luke both know that being two of the oldest at camp, and his smug expression as he settles into his bed is confirmation that you’re about to give in.

“Fine. One quick story, and then everyone goes to sleep okay? Who wants to sit on the floor with me?”

You take your place sitting on the ground next to the foot of Luke’s bunk as he lays upside down on the twin-sized mattress, peering at you through one open eye as the younger children, mostly the unclaimed ones—drag their blankets and form a circle in the middle of the room, waiting patiently for you to start enchanting them with something to occupy their tired minds. Acting— that’s the gift your father had to give you; this time you decide to tell the story of Atalanta and the golden apples, how she ran from love and it still found her in the end, and how some stories can have good endings, despite what’s often found in Greek legend. Multiple tired eyes droop closed as you finish the story and carry the ones who’ve fallen into Hypnos’ embrace back into their bunks, tucking them in with kisses on their foreheads and it leaves you with a warm feeling that will help you brave the chill on your walk back.

Admittedly, this next part is your favorite part on nights like these. The overflowing cabin of rowdy pranksters and babbling children is as quiet as the secret you hold close to your heart, tiptoeing back towards Luke’s space and draping his blanket over his muscular frame, exhausted from another day of trying to achieve greatness. Your hand brushes a dark curl away from his forehead, fingertips ghosting his pale skin like a kiss you’d never have the guts to give. With everything you have in you, you summon thoughts of serenity and peace, hoping whatever keeps him up at night lets him rest for even a few hours. You don’t pray often, finding yourself spiting your father instead of honoring him on most days, but in the dim light of Cabin 11, you find yourself making time to do so for a pain in your ass called Luke Castellan.

Perhaps he knows something you don’t after all, the crease in his forehead relaxing as you pull your fingertips away.

“Sweet dreams, angelface.”

Mental note: Put his ass to work tomorrow for falling asleep halfway through the story.

It’ll only give him another excuse to ask you to tell it again a few nights later. You find yourself not minding that, a sliver of a smile pulling at your face as you walk towards the door and shut the lights off, a sleeping son of Hermes illuminated by the gentle shine of the moon.

You’d never admit that, though.

—

“you steady me and stir me

all at once.”

-Tanya Wright

ask to be added to luke/general taglist!

luke taglist (some won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?): @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r @visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri @number-onekidqueen @nininehaaa @bradynoonswife @stevenknightmarc @hoodedhavok @happy-mushrooms @homebyeleven @anotherblackreader @too-deviant @liviessun @lilacspider @theadventuresofanartist @sucker4seresin @simpforsunwoo @zanzie @starrystormwritings

#luke castellan x dionysus!reader #luke castellan x reader #pjo imagine #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan x reader fanfic #made by ma1dita ♥︎#trouble!verse #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo x reader #luke castellan fluff #thank you for reading my love ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

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bitchimasnake-sss · 6 months

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"stay, please" ft. the monster trio!

in which, nightmares plague them and you're the only remedy

ft. luffy, zoro, sanji x fem!reader

set-up: late night nightmares give way to very vulnerable boyfriends i see (i couldnt bring myself to pick sad gifs for them tho, idk use your imagination)

warnings: none!! wholesome shit all day every day :)

luffy:

- luffy is always a heavy sleeper - no, like quite literally - he sleeps on you like a log, unmoving until you're physically shoving him off and throwing him off the bed - so, in the dead of the night, when he pulled you closer against his chest and held you tighter, you simply assumed it was no big deal - but his hands are tightening around your waist, his breath seems laboured and as you throw him a glance over your shoulders, you see his brows furrowed together as if he was in pain - "yn, no. yn-" his voice sounds distraught, hands trembling against your figure "luffy?" you whisper, gently putting your arm over his, "luffy, hey?" - his breath seems more laboured, as if it hurts just to breathe - you were shaking him awake, "luffy, wake up, come on" - when he did, his eyes were teary and he buried his head into your hair. relief flooded his voice as he kept holding onto you, "you're okay right?" "ofcourse i am. are you?" "i-" he sneaks in a quick breath and then looks at you, "yeah" - you run your hand up and down his arm gently, other coming to rest on his cheek, "nightmare?" - he stays silent for a second, just looking at you. then he whispers, "i thought i lost you" "i'm right here" you flash him a small smile, chasing it with a small peck on his lips, "i promise" "you promise?" his features stay unmoving, still grim "i promise" you're rubbing soothing circles on his cheek - a second passes before either of you speaks up. it's him who does. - he presses his hands over yours and whispers slowly, "stay with me, please" "i wouldn't be caught dead anywhere else" - and then he's picking you up, "we're awake and im hungry so might as well-" - he made you help him raid the pantry and feed him emergency snacks to soothe him again - one of these days, sanji's gonna put a biometric scanner at the kitchen door and luffy's gonna go feral - that is your version of doomsday - what a menace i love him

zoro:

- it was a sickening routine as far as you remembered. you hated it to your very core and yet, you couldn't do anything as it played out - every once in a while, when the fates were a little too cruel, zoro would slip out of the bed, careful not to wake you up. - he'd slowly close the door behind him, stepping out onto the chilly deck - it wouldn't take you long to notice the abrupt coldness next to you where zoro should have been - and you would usually walk out and find him peering at the sea, tension etched into every muscle - your hands would wrap around his waist and you would press your face against his sculpted back. you would feel his body ease under your familiar touch, the tension fading away and leaving behind another young man "zo'" you would whisper, "'nother nightmare?" and he would just gave you a curt nod - that's how it usually went. he wouldn't elaborate, he would just hold onto you till all his worries slipped past him and then he'd carry you back to bed - he wouldn't bring it up again in the morning and it was a silent agreement that you wouldn't either - but today, his body shivered, trembling against your feather-like touches "zoro?" you're panicking, turning him to look at you, "zo' are you cry-" - he pulls you towards himself, his head on top of yours, "i thought i fuckin' lost you i-" you bury yourself against him, "i'm right here, look" "you wouldn't leave right?" his voice is gentle, "i- you'd stay by my side, right? please" - you look up at him, pressing a kiss on his cheek, "ofcourse i will. where else would i go?" he gives a small smile, "wherever you go, stay away from that shitty cook" "ah, don't worry. you can ensure that by showering for once" "oh, really?" he scoffs playfully, "only if you join me" - he carries your blushing figure into the room and you fall asleep with him tangled against you - you did take him up on the showering together offer tho, ur a slave to the temptations of the flesh it seems

sanji:

- honest to god, i believe he is the kind of guy who doesn't wake you up - but over the years, youve caught onto the pattern - it's always the days where he either sneaks off into the kitchen, saying that there's just some recipe he thought of that he needs to try or he sits in the bed, silently basking in the venomous thoughts - some nights, you feel his warmth pull away and he's sitting beside you, back against the headboard - his breath is laboured and his eyes are screwed shut as he tips his head backwards - your hand is on his knee, grounding him back to reality "sanji?" you mumble as you sit up, "you okay?" "did i wake you up?" he mumbles back with a look of concern, "im sorry, my love" - but you're already settling in between his legs, your back flush against his chest. you bring his hand and intertwine it with your own, bringing it to your lips to press a small kiss - it ends with you talking about something else to get his mind off the bullshit "what if we have like 4 moons and we don't know?" "i don't think that scientifically possible, darling" "anything's possible. never say never." - on nights you find him in the kitchen, you silently walk in there and sit on the kitchen counter, asking him what he's cooking - you entertain him with mundane bullshit as he cooks - 9/10 you fall asleep in the kitchen and he has to carry you back - cooks you the same dish later again cause while he was carrying you back, luffy stormed into the kitchen, ate whatever it was and fell asleep on the fucking kitchen floor. - sanji's considering putting a biometric scanner at the kitchen door now

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roosterforme · 8 months

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Do You Wanna Touch Me? | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You had been working at the bar for six months. And you'd been crushing on Rooster since the first night he handed you his credit card, called you Babydoll, and asked you to start a tab for him. And it only got worse from there, until one night you asked him about more than just his drink order.

Warnings: Fluff, swearing, age gap, and smut

Length: 5800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written for my Top Gun Rocktober playlist! Check out my masterlist for more!

"Oh, my god," you whined softly, drying and polishing the rack of pint glasses in front of you as Rooster Bradshaw came strolling into the bar. "Fuck me," you sighed, barely able to keep your eyes off him as you fumbled one of the glasses.

"Yeah, you'd like that," Lizzy said with a laugh as she cut up some lemons before the Friday evening rush.

You didn't even know you spoke out loud. That's how much of a ridiculous crush you had on that big, sexy man. But he strolled right past you on his way to the pool table, barely even sparing a smile in your direction.

"I really would," you told her, watching the flex of his bicep as he high fived Hangman. It wasn't like your coworkers didn't know you had a thing for Rooster. You'd been working here for six months, and you'd been crushing on him since the first night he handed you his credit card, called you Babydoll, and asked you to start a tab for him. And it only got worse from there.

He still occasionally called you Babydoll. He never called Lizzy or Jasmine by a pet name. Just you. And you held onto that little glimmer of hope that it meant something. That maybe one day, he'd look at you as more than just one of the bartenders.

"What's wrong with you?" Jas asked, waving a hand in front of your face. But then she looked where you were staring, and she asked no further questions. "Oh. Rooster's here."

"He sure is," you added, forcing yourself to focus on the customer in front of you who looked impatient for a drink. As you finished pouring him some tequila shots, you looked up eagerly, and Rooster met your eyes. It had been a solid week since you'd seen him, and he just always looked so good.

You pushed the shot glasses across the bar and collected payment, trying to stay as cool as you could. Because Rooster was heading your way now in his snug vintage wash jeans and bright tropical shirt.

"Hey, Babydoll," he rasped, and your whole body clenched with need as your eyes fluttered closed. When you met his gaze again, he was leaning on the bar, closing in on your personal space.

"Hey, Rooster," you replied, sounding a lot calmer than you felt. When he smirked and looked down at your shirt, your heart pounded even harder. Your name was embroidered on your Hard Deck top, just above your breast. He knew your name, but he always called you Babydoll anyway. So was he just simply staring at your tits?

He cleared his throat and asked, "Get me a beer? Please?"

"Am I starting a tab?" you asked, reaching for one of the pint glasses you'd just finished cleaning. He responded by humming and sliding his credit card across the bar. He held eye contact with you while you expertly pulled the perfect pint of his preferred beer. The way his lips parted in a soft smile that matched yours, the twitch of his mustache...it all felt like foreplay that had been going on for months.

"Thanks," he muttered when your fingers brushed against his. He winked at you before turning back to the pool table, leaving you with his credit card and a desperate need inside of you.

As you set up his tab, Jasmine ran her hand along your lower back so you wouldn't bump her as she walked behind you. "Why don't you just invite him to join you in the bathroom and fuck him out of your system?" she joked.

"Because," you sighed, "that would only make me pine harder. Getting a small taste of him would be worse than nothing at all."

"Oof," Lizzy replied. "You're a mess over Bradshaw."

"I wonder how old he is?" Jas asked.

You hummed and shrugged, watching him drink his beer across the room while you shook a vodka martini. "Gotta be at least thirty five."

"Ask him," Lizzy said. "Next time he comes over, ask him how old he is."

Your cheeks were warming up. He was bending at the waist, playing pool, and you were taking way too long to serve this martini. "No. What if he thinks I'm being rude? Or worse...what if he catches on that I like him, and he shuts it all down."

"Fine," Jas said, uncapping some ciders. "Next time Rooster comes up, I'll wait on him."

But that really didn't sit well with you. Rooster always came to you for his drinks, anytime he could. You liked that about him. You liked his attention. Jas wouldn't pour his pints quite as well as you could. You knew so well how much foam to let spill and how close to the top of the glass you could get. You loved pulling those pints of lager for him. And you loved pouring him bourbon when he asked for that instead. You knew which brand and that he liked it neat. You didn't have to ask. He didn't have to tell you.

No, you should always be the one to wait on him. And when he finished his pint and strolled back up to the bar after Phoenix beat him at pool, you stepped in front of Jasmine. "I got it," you said confidently, and Jas walked away chuckling. This time Rooster eased himself down onto an empty stool between two women who looked at him like they'd just won the lottery. But his eyes were on you.

"Lager or bourbon?" you asked, and you were rewarded with those perfect, white teeth and his deep laughter.

"You got everyone's regular drinks memorized?" he asked as you reached for his empty glass. But he didn't let you take it. He kept one hand on the glass for a few beats while your fingers met his.

He was making you feel bold tonight. He was even more gorgeous up close like this, with a few gray hairs at his temples and some laugh lines around his eyes. His eyebrows shot up, and his smile faltered when you said, "No, Rooster. Not everybody's regular drinks. Only the hottest guys. Lager or bourbon?"

He grunted and swallowed hard. "Dealer's choice." Then he finally let you take the empty glass, and it was a good thing, too, because you needed to turn away from him. You took a few extra seconds to reach for the bottle of Wild Turkey. Your nipples were hard, your skin felt like it was on fire, and you were turned on just talking to him.

When you turned back to face him, his gaze was neutral again. You uncapped the bourbon and poured it for him, neat.

"Thanks," he murmured, moving like he was standing to leave.

And then your mouth worked before your brain, and you said, "Anytime, Sexy."

You watched him pause halfway out of his seat, his eyes dipping down to watch you nervously lick your lips. If he left for the pool table, you really were going to have to let Jasmine wait on him next time. Embarrassment flooded your veins, leaving you uncomfortable with a sheen of cold sweat on your neck. But he eased himself back down onto the stool and kept his eyes on you. "Alright. Babydoll."

You laughed softly, pulling out some glasses for the woman who wanted two cosmos. Rooster sipped his bourbon and kept his focus on your face and your body. He grunted as you took a shaker in each hand, and as you poured them out at the same time, he asked, "What's your favorite drink?"

He was hyper focused on you now, leaning in just the slightest bit further as you served both pink drinks. "To have or to make?" you asked, taking more orders.

"Both. I want you to tell me both."

You smiled at him, and he matched it right away. "Nothing is more fun to make than an expertly crafted Bloody Mary, but those are best as breakfast cocktails."

He nodded, accepting your answer, and then he asked, "And what do you order when you go out?"

You shrugged. "I don't often get to have someone make my drinks for me, but when I do, I usually order a Manhattan."

"A Manhattan?" he asked, balking at your answer. "How fuckin' old are you, Babydoll? People in their seventies drink those things!"

"I'm twenty three," you told him, laughing so hard you were doubled over. He looked delighted when you were finally able to stand up straight again. Your smile was still bright as you leaned on the bar until you were only two feet from his face and softly asked, "How old are you?"

The song on the jukebox changed as Rooster rubbed his mustache and said, "I'm a lot older than you are." His little self deprecating laugh just made you want to get closer to him. He looked amused by you and also resigned to the fact that he thought his age was something you wouldn't like about him.

"How old?" you asked again, biting your lip.

His brown eyes found your mouth, and you thought for a moment that he was going to kiss you. Oh god, you wanted him to, so badly. "I'm thirty eight."

You hummed softly as Phoenix came to stand next to him, and you started to get her favorite kind of beer ready.

"You coming back to the pool table?" she asked Rooster, but he just grunted something about needing to finish his bourbon first. When you handed Phoenix her drink, Rooster told you to put it on his tab, and he looked relieved when she walked away.

"Thirty eight," you said, watching him down the remainder of the drink in his glass. "That's why you're so good at flirting? You've had time to practice?"

He coughed a little bit as he set his empty glass down on the bar top. "Babydoll, I'm fifteen years older than you."

"So?" you asked, pulling another perfect pint for him. "You don't want to flirt with me?"

"Now wait, that's not what I'm saying at all. Just surprised you don't want to flirt with someone your own age."

"I don't like boys my age," you told him fearlessly. "I like men."

"Oh, hell," he groaned, taking a long sip of his fresh beer. "Just look at you. You're gonna get yourself in trouble if you don't find a nice guy."

He looked flustered now. You were making Lieutenant Bradshaw flustered. His cheeks were pink, and he kept sipping his beer, avoiding your gaze. He looked adorable and boyish, and you didn't know quite what to do about this. Or about the fact that talking to him was making you wet.

"Hmmm," you hummed, and his eyes met yours immediately. "Are you a nice guy?"

"Fuck," he groaned, adjusting himself in his seat. "Sometimes."

"You're always pretty sweet to me," you whispered. "What's it like when you're not a nice guy, Rooster?"

You wanted to touch him for more than a few fleeting seconds. After six months, you thought you were going to. His long, thick fingers were just resting there in front of you. But then Fanboy came to the bar and asked you to close out his tab. And then you had to help Lizzy pour a massive round of shots. And then when Rooster asked you to close out his tab as well, you did it with a pout on your lips.

As you slid his credit card, the slip he needed to sign, and a pen across the bar, he smiled at you. "Aww, come on. Don't give me that look. You know how it is."

"I don't, actually," you replied, watching him sign the credit card receipt for you. "How is it?"

He looked up and studied your face. "You're too perfect to mess with, Babydoll. Too young. Too pretty to touch."

You chewed on your lip and squeezed your thighs together. You had to know. Your voice was soft and unsure as you asked him, "Do you wanna touch me?"

He didn't meet your eyes again as he scribbled on the receipt and then left it and the pen for you to collect. He stood up from his stool, gave a quick salute to his friends and then headed for the door.

You moaned helplessly. You blew it. He thought you were just a kid, and you never stood a chance. And now he'd probably never even look at you again.

But when you picked up the receipt, you read one word written there under his name. YES.

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

When you strolled into the bar the next evening, you got right to work. You had no idea if Rooster would show up, and you weren't sure if you even wanted to see him or not. You'd torn off the bottom of his credit card slip and taken it home with you. That little scrap of paper on which he'd admitted he wanted to touch you was hanging on your bedroom mirror. But it was the fact that he was probably never going to touch you, even though he was more than welcome to, that was making you frustrated.

"What's wrong with you?" Lizzy asked as she arrived a minute later. "You look hot."

You glanced down at your Hard Deck top, denim skirt and beat up sneakers. "I look the same as I always do," you told her, continuing to dump buckets of ice into the cooler behind the bar.

"Maybe it's your makeup," she replied. "I think you're hoping Rooster comes in tonight."

You rolled your eyes. "I always hope he's going to be here. He's pretty. I like looking at him."

"I'm not going to dispute that," Lizzy said as she cut up the lemons again tonight. "But I think you actually like him. Not just the way he looks."

You didn't respond, because it didn't matter. You'd keep the flirtation to a minimum the next time you saw him. The last thing you wanted to do was make him think you were desperate. He wanted to touch you? He could go right ahead. But you weren't about to beg him to.

As the bar got crowded, Jasmine showed up as well. The three of you got into a nice rhythm. A lot of the aviators were back again tonight, and you were serving them drink after drink. And then it was like you knew he was there before you saw him. After you handed a couple their drinks, your eyes automatically shifted toward the doorway, finding it filled with Rooster's big body. And he was already looking at you.

"You want me to wait on him?" Lizzy asked you softly as Rooster approached the bar.

But you just shook your head and reached for two different glasses, holding them up as he took a seat in front of you. When he pointed to the pint glass, he said, "Lager. Please."

"Sure," you replied, setting the smaller glass aside and pulling a perfect pint of beer for him. "Start a tab?"

"Nah, I'm not staying long tonight," he told you as you placed the beer in front of him without meeting his gaze. "Just wanted to see you and get one drink."

"Mmkay," you said. But when you pulled your hand away, he reached for it.

Stunned, you let him take your hand in his large one, and then he asked, "Does this mean you're done flirting with the old man now? You got it all out of your system yesterday?" His eyes were guarded, cautious, and he held onto your hand, expecting an answer.

You shook your head slowly, running your fingertips along his rough calluses. "I was just getting started."

A crooked little smile danced across his lips. "I am too old for you, Babydoll. And it's a shame."

Your heart jumped in your chest, hand still tangled up with his on the bar top. You could hear Lizzy and Jasmine working extra hard to take all the orders, trying to give you a moment here. So you smiled back. "You think you're old. So what? You expect me to call you Daddy?"

"Shit," he grunted, squirming a bit in his seat but keeping your hand in his.

When he didn't respond right away, you leaned a little closer, one eyebrow raised. "I asked you a question."

His eyes were wide, and that little grin was back. "I could be a... Daddy. Maybe for the right girl."

You pulled your hand free of his and planted both palms on the bar top and leaned closer to him. "And just how is a girl supposed to know if she's the right one?"

But his cheeks were tinged with pink once again, and he looked flustered. It was flattering, such an ego boost. You were the one who made him like this. But he wasn't responding now, and you needed to help Jas pour some chardonnay for the impatient ladies at the end of the bar. You sighed and said, "Well, I work until eleven. So just think on it."

But he wouldn't let you leave. Rooster reached for your hand again, but this time he was the one leaning closer. "The right girl would be one that I can't seem to stay away from. You said you work until eleven?"

"Yes," you replied softly, his large hand completely covering yours on the bar top.

"Right. Then ask me again if I want to start a tab."

You pressed your lips together, trying not to giggle. "Would you like to start a tab, Rooster?"

"You're damn right I would, Babydoll. I can't get enough of you. Think I'll just hang here until eleven. If that's okay with you."

This time you did giggle. "Yeah. That's okay with me." As he pulled his wallet out and handed you his credit card, you asked, "Bourbon or lager?"

"Make it a Manhattan."

"I've been told these drinks are for people in their seventies," you said with a straight face as you reached for the vermouth, secretly pleased he wanted your favorite. "You're only thirty eight."

"Listen," he said, watching you fix his drink. "You said you don't like boys your own age. And maybe I'm a little older than you, but all the parts are still in working order."

You felt giddy. When you set the glass down in front of him, you couldn't help but ask, "Does that mean you'll let me take you for a test drive?"

You had to work to keep an innocent expression on your face as Bradley's blush deepened. He took a sip of his Manhattan, licked his lips and said, "I don't do test drives anymore."

"Oh," you said with a little pout. "You don't?"

"No," he replied a bit cautiously, taking another sip of his cocktail. "I'm getting too old for that. I like at least a little bit of commitment from the driver. Don't wanna feel like I'll get dinged up."

You shivered at his words, mesmerized by his voice and his demeanor as he looked down into his glass. Could you do more than a test drive? Of course you'd thought about it. You were crushing so hard, you'd imagined what it would be like if he was your boyfriend. But you'd barely even let yourself hope for a one night stand. Even that much seemed too good to be true.

"Oh," you said again in a softer tone. When he glanced up, his dark eyes were no longer guarded, and he was looking at you warily. Without giving it much thought, you pushed up onto the bar and leaned until he met you halfway in a kiss. It was just the softest brush of your lips against his. But the sound he made and the prickle of his mustache on your skin left you wide eyed and out of breath as you eased yourself back down. "No. You're too handsome to get all dinged up. I'm a great driver."

"Yeah," he said with a little laugh. "I can already tell. And that's what I was afraid of last night. There's just something about you, isn't there?"

"You have a thing for me?" you asked him, gripping the edge of the bar top. "Because I definitely have a thing for you." You had stopped breathing now, and your heart was pounding in your ears.

With a little grin, he said, "Yeah, I do, Babydoll."

"Well, what are we going to do about it, Daddy?" you asked with another giggle as Jasmine thrust a bottle of prosecco into your hands.

"We're going to go out my Bronco the minute your shift is over. We'll figure it out there."

You nearly dropped the bottle when you met his eyes. "A quickie?" you asked softly, but you were sure he heard you.

"No," he groaned, running his big palm along his mouth and shaking his head at you. Then he finished the rest of his Manhattan in one gulp and pushed the glass your way. "Nothing about this is gonna be quick. I'd like to take my time, especially with someone as perfect as you."

You sounded like a feral animal, thighs clenched together and gripping the bottle of prosecco with both hands.

"Shit," Rooster grunted. "You're making it hard to just sit here, Babydoll."

"Hard?" you asked with a grin.

"You'll find out."

After another embarrassing noise, you had to excuse yourself to the other end of the bar for a few minutes. Jesus, you needed to keep your job, after all. But his eyes followed you everywhere. Any time you looked his way, he was transfixed on you. When you pulled a pint of lager and set it down for him, he whispered, "Thanks, Babydoll," sending shivers along your skin again.

"Anything else you want, Rooster?" you asked him sweetly.

His gaze dipped down to your chest before returning to your face. "Nothing I'm allowed to have inside the bar."

"At least not when we're open to the public, sir," you replied, giving him a little salute that had him reaching for you across the bar. But you managed to skirt away from his grasp with another laugh.

"You coming back over here?" he asked between sips of his beer. "I didn't get a chance to ask you if you'll make me a Bloody Mary for breakfast tomorrow morning."

"Breakfast?"

"Yeah. Breakfast," he confirmed with a smile. "At my place?"

You pressed your lips together to keep from screaming. "So since this isn't a test drive, what are my options, exactly? Am I looking at a lease? A financing package?"

"I'm sure you'll know what you want to do when the time comes. And I'm going to need you to stop saying package right now."

"Just go," Jasmine told you suddenly. "It's after ten, and you're useless. You and he have had hours of foreplay already. Go."

"Are you sure?" you asked, already reaching for your bag and Rooster's credit card.

"Yes," Lizzy confirmed. Then she looked at Rooster who was already standing up and told him, "Pay your tab next week. And get her out of here."

"My pleasure," he rasped, and you practically ran for the opening in the bar, ducking underneath the counter. And when you stood up again, he was right there. He was so tall and broad, and with a coy smile, you slipped his credit card into the pocket of his jeans. When your fingers trailed closer to his zipper, he grabbed your wrist gently.

"Just checking for myself to make sure all the parts are working," you mused as he raised your hand up to his lips and kissed your knuckles gently. In the middle of the crowded bar. Then he wrapped your fingers around the back of his neck, and you pulled him down for a kiss.

He kept it pretty clean as he promised, "Wait until we get outside."

"Now," you demanded, pulling him along behind you by his shirt collar. As soon as the cool, night air met your hot skin, he had your bare thighs in his hands, and your back was pressed against the side of the building. "Oh my god," you gasped. Your body was pinned between the siding and Rooster, and the rough denim of his jeans was rubbing you deliciously through your underwear.

"I told you I'm not going to rush," he whispered, pressing into you as you held onto his shoulders. He teased you with that delicious mustache and his lips on your neck before he kissed your ear and said, "Now, I'm gonna need verbal confirmation, Babydoll."

"Yes!" you nearly shouted. "Everything!"

He chuckled next to your ear and asked, "You wanna fuck in my Bronco?"

"Yes," you moaned so loudly, you were sure Jasmine and Lizzy could hear you.

"I don't have any condoms with me," he said, looking you in the eye. "Do we need them?"

"No, I'm clean, and I take the pill," you said, leaning in to kiss his lips. He tasted you, running the tip of his tongue along yours before pulling his lips away.

You whined for him, but he was undeterred. "I need you to tell me that you'll come home with me and make me that Bloody Mary in the morning while I make you breakfast."

He already wanted you to sleep over with him. He wanted to make you breakfast. He didn't want to have a one night stand. He was waiting for an answer. "You'll have to let me know if you want it traditional or extra spicy."

"Fuck," he grunted before his lips came crashing against yours. His big hands held your thighs wide as he rolled his hips gently against you.

"Rooster," you moaned against his lips as he let you gently slide down his body until your feet hit the ground.

"Please call me Bradley," he whispered as he wrapped his hand around your waist and quickly guided you across the dark parking lot.

When you saw the Bronco, you ran the last little bit hand in hand. His laughter mixed with yours as he unlocked the door. "Come on, Bradley," you sang, looking up at him over your shoulder before climbing up onto the driver's seat on your hands and knees. "Do you wanna touch me?"

"Babydoll," he moaned, keeping you still as he guided your skirt up over your butt and around your waist. You cried out as he kissed the backs of your thighs. He slipped his fingers inside the thin strips of lace fabric that made up your thong, and you couldn't ever remember being this turned on before.

"Bradley!" you gasped loudly when his lips and tongue met the globe of your rear end. He slid the lace to one side and kissed your slit from behind until you were panting. You might cum. You might actually have an orgasm on your hands and knees with your ass in his face. Boys your own age couldn't get you like this no matter what they did.

He gently swatted at you before palming your ass and saying, "Get in the backseat."

Oh yes. He was about to show you what else his age and experience had to offer, and you were already shaking with need. "Yes, sir," you whispered, and you heard him mutter a string of obscenities as you scrambled onto the backseat. As he slid the driver's seat forward and climbed in the back, you carefully pulled your underwear down your thighs. He helped you and then pressed the lace to his nose before pulling you onto his lap.

"I've thought about this so many times when I touched myself," you blurted out as he teased your clit with his thumb. "Bronco sex," you whined, head tipped back, enjoying the perfect pressure he applied to your body. "Bronco sex with Bradley Bradshaw."

"Forgive me, Babydoll," he whispered, voice harsh. "But last night was the first time I jerked off thinking about you. Too afraid to go there before that, thinking there was no way in hell you'd want me."

"I want you," you swore, meeting his eyes in the near darkness. If anyone else was out in the parking lot, you couldn't see them. And you didn't care if they could see you, because he was slipping one thick finger inside you. "Wanted you for so long. Months and months."

"Jesus, you're tight," he groaned, sliding your snug top up to your chest as you rode his hand. "And you skipped a bra tonight like a good girl."

"Bradley," you gasped as he cupped your bare breast in his big hand. He lazily swirled his thumb around your nipple before bending to take you into his mouth. "Oh my god!"

Your orgasm was already building. You had only been in the backseat with him for a few minutes, and he was still fully clothed. But now you were riding two fingers, and his thumb was delicious against your clit. As he licked and sucked on your breast, you started to clench.

"Damn," he muttered against your body. "Already?"

You just nodded before guiding his lips up to yours, and you came as you moaned loudly against his mouth. "Bradley." You raked your fingers up into his hair and kissed him. He was hard through his jeans, and when he withdrew his fingers, you felt them trail up your body.

"You're so pretty," he whispered, pulling your top over your head. "You'll look even better in my bed."

You wanted him to fuck you here first, but you'd be lying if you said you hadn't already thought about his place and what he might make you for breakfast. And as you sat straddled his hips in nothing but your skirt up around your waist and your sneakers on your feet, you felt adored by him. He was kissing a trail down between your breasts and rubbing his thumbs along your thighs.

"Bradley," you whined, rubbing your pussy against his jeans, already feeling a little wrung out. "Please."

The street light at the corner reflected in his eyes, letting you know he was looking at your face as he raised his hips and unzipped his jeans. And a few seconds later, they were down around his knees along with his underwear. Your lips met his as you felt the velvety soft tip of his cock resting against your core. As you kissed him and tugged on his hair, he throbbed for you. And suddenly you weren't in such a hurry either.

"Let me make you feel good," he whispered, and as you slid down around him, Bradley guided you with his hands on your hips. "You're so wet, my god."

"You always make me wet, even when you just talk to me at the bar," you admitted softly, your voice shaking as he kept pushing deeper inside you. "Oh. You're huge."

"Am I hurting you?" he asked, pausing where he was. But you just shook your head and rolled your hips slowly until he was completely inside you. He kissed you softly as you gasped and got used to him. "I don't wanna hurt this sweet pussy," he whispered next to your ear. "Perfect."

And then he brushed his knuckles along your clit and leaned his head back, watching as you rode him. "Take it off," you gasped, and he let you push his shirt down his arms and pull his tank over his head. You explored his broad chest with your hands and his shoulders with your lips. He was warm and rough and oh so sweet. His chest hairs brushed against your nipples as he guided your hips with his hands.

"Bradley?"

"Hmm?"

You wrapped your hands around his neck and kissed his lips. "Fuck. So good." He felt delicious, his big hands everywhere, sliding up to span your back and keep you close. He fucked you in long, fluid movements that just got faster and faster. His pubes were coarse against your clit. His little grunts and words of praise kept you going as you started squeezing around his cock.

"Don't stop, Babydoll," he coaxed as you got closer. When his lips met your sweat slick chest again, and he pulled your nipple between his teeth, you came for him.

"Oh!"

As your legs shook and your fingers went loose in his hair, Bradley fucked up into you until you were screaming his name.

"Good girl," he grunted, and suddenly you were on your back along the seat with your legs spread wide. He fucked you with long, hard strokes that made your tits bounce and prolonged your orgasm. His lips were everywhere, and you were surrounded by his voice in the dark, holding onto his biceps as he came inside you.

You scrambled to get your mouth on his as you both caught your breath together, and as your heartbeat started to return to normal, you pressed a dozen soft kisses to his lips, one after the next. "Will you take me home?"

His hands stilled on your thigh and your neck. "Yeah," he said with a tone of sadness. "I can drop you off at home."

When he started pulling away without so much as another kiss, you reached for him, keeping him firmly inside you. "No, no. Take me home with you, Bradley."

"My place?" His voice was still soft, but it sounded hopeful now.

"Of course," you reassured him, and his kisses returned. "I'll spend the whole morning tomorrow making you Bloody Marys with little heart shaped garnishes."

He smiled against your lips before he said, "I'd like that, Babydoll."

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

The Hard Deck was pretty busy the following evening, and you were so physically exhausted from your night with Bradley, you could barely keep up. The Sunday crowd was keeping you on your toes, and Jasmine wouldn't stop asking you how your night ended.

"Did you go home with him? You did. I can tell," she said as you just shrugged at all of her questions. "Are you going to see him again? Come on! Tell me!"

When you saw movement on the other side of the bar top, Jasmine's eyes went wide. "Hey, babydoll." The deep rumble of his voice was so distinct, you didn't need to look at him to know it was Bradley. He had whispered dirty, sweet things in your ears all night and all morning. You knew the sound of his voice by heart now.

When your eyes met his, you reached for a pint glass and filled it with his favorite beer. "Hey, Bradley. Wanna start a tab?" you asked with a soft smile.

You giggled as he reached for your hand and tugged you closer. Then he leaned across the bar and kissed you as his nose brushed against yours. "For you? Always. And don't close the tab until your shift ends."

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

No more test drives. I'm sure she's already considering her options to make him hers permanently. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32. Also, the pretty banner was made by Mak!

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lunarw0rks · 7 months

Note

farmer!price & sweet little girl next door!reader (yes i’m thinking about this pairing in the most perverted way possible)

a/n: here it is. the long-awaited neighbor!price fic <3 Hopefully, you all enjoy these Price crumbs. anon is onto something ;) & thx for the dog name ideas! ⊹。°˖➴ ao3 ver. // word count: 6.9k

// warning(s); nsfw (18+), implied age gap [r is mid-twenties, price is early/mid-forties], dadbod!price agenda, oral (r.), p/v unsafe sex, fem!reader

Price is living out his recluse dreams. Retired and secluded, finally! It was more than he’d wished for, honestly. He always desired a patch of land far from town, leaving out scraps for the critters, finding the simple pleasures.

But here he was, with a small, self-sufficient farm, growing enough to feed himself. It was a quiet, rewarding lifestyle. Entirely the opposite of his years in the service. Right now, he found himself conquering his lost list of mundane tasks. Watering his herbs, then sorting the junk that accumulated in his storage shed.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

After a grueling afternoon of unpacking, you needed to unwind. Right now, you found yourself lounging on your deck, head tilted back as you shielded your eyes from the summer sun. As if moving and assembling furniture wasn't exhausting enough — now you had the sweltering star beating down on you.

Abruptly, you feel something soft brush against your legs. Before you can open your eyes, there's a hefty weight plunged atop your lap. Your eyes snap open, greeted with the hot breath of a smiling golden retriever.

You caress the blonde fur, receiving several licks along your hand. "Zeus! down, boy!" A husky voice shouts, followed by the face to match it. The eager, not-so-small ball of fluff hops off your lap, prancing toward the man walking around the side of your house.

A charcoal gray t-shirt hugging his buff but girthy body. A man who's been in shape for years — arms bulging and tanned from hours of working outside, all whilst his older years have caught up to him a bit on his stomach, which stuck out with just a bit of fat cushion.

"My apologies, he knows better." He rubbed his head and flashed an apologetic look, exposing the faint abs you'd already imagined on him at first glance. Price's eyes wandered you from top to bottom, nearly forgetting to unfurrow his brow.

What a sight for sore eyes, you were.

You peer down at your lap, now stained with dirt in the shape of paws — on your thighs and the shorts you're wearing. "Oh, not a big deal! he gave me quite a scare, but it was a pleasant surprise." You look over at Zeus, his tail thwacking against his owner's leg.

For a few moments, all he did was leer, before he snapped himself out of it. "John," he steps forward as if going to shake hands but retracts hastily.

"—'m all covered in dirt, wouldn't want to get you dirtier than Zeus already has, hm?" He chuckles when he finishes his rhetorical, smearing the dirt onto his denim pants.

You shake your head and chuckle gently, “no room for pleasantries in the countryside, is there?” You case his appearance again, eyes skimming his muscles.

John flashes a polite smile, muttering a reply before hooking a finger around the Golden’s red collar. “Be seeing you.” He effectively leads the sparky dog out of your yard, preventing both any more surprise attacks and more ogling on his part.

Not only was getting a new neighbor a surprise, but her being so damn tempting — an entirely different genre of awe.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Yesterday wasn’t your smoothest first impression. looking rugged and sweaty from unpacking, ending up covered in dirt and in awkward conversation. You wanted a second chance. He was going to be your neighbor after all — and it wasn’t like there were many others. John was the only one within reasonable walking distance, it seemed.

Now, wearing a sundress as opposed to sweat-caked shorts and a tee — you were more confident in your odds of at least being civil with your neighbor. At the very least, a man who would roll up your trash bins before a storm. Perhaps even supply a spare cup of sugar if you were being optimistic.

You trudge down the dirt road, careful not to roll your ankle on the unpredictable mounds of earth. For a few moments, you’re convinced you’ve gone the wrong way. It’s either dense forest, patches of crop, or more road ahead of you.

Lord knows you were exhausted yesterday, maybe the handsome neighbor was just a figment in your fried mind. A foolish thought — but one that worsened the longer you walked.

The tray in your hands; a few oatmeal dog biscuits and some cookies made from the recipe on the chocolate chip bag. It was better than coming empty-handed, wasn’t it? That would just be distasteful judgment.

With eyes glued ahead, you nearly let the handles of the platter slip when you finally spotted the lights in the distance. Golden-tinted and countless, illuminating the updated cabin. In the yard, lay a few scattered chewed ropes and muddy tennis balls. You could safely assume you made it to the suave man’s residence.

You knock on the oak door, seeing the hues of a television flickering through some of the bent blinds. After a few seconds of mumbling, the door swung open.

Price answered with a beer in one of his fists, instantly straightening his posture when he laid eyes on you. The sundress; cherry red with splotches of tiny florals. Dusk sunbeams highlighted your bone structure seamlessly — casting an ethereal glow on your captivating flesh.

Today, instead of gray, his shirt is army green and just as snug of a fit. You can't help but prolong your stare when he leans against the doorway, his bicep bulging even when he stands with nonchalance. He's even more of a knockout when not covered in dirt; though you suppose the same could be applied to you.

"This is a surprise." He glances at the tray in your hands, then at the polite smile on your face as you flash it in his direction.

With a beam, you extend the platter out and wait for him to take it. "I wasn't sure when to come. I hope I'm not intruding." You speak softly, catching a glimpse of his tidy living space.

“No such thing as intrusion around here, eh? ‘m practically searching for chores these days. A little conversation won’t bother me any.” Price chuckles a bit, flicking his head as an invitation for you to join him.

You step inside behind him, engulfed by the scent of tobacco and cedarwood. The cabin's interior walls have been stained with a warm tint, stretching throughout what bits of the space you can spot. Immediately through the front door is his kitchen, likely the most modernized of the rooms.

Distressed, truffle-colored counters in an L shape; altogether enough space for a man living alone. Yet, the countertops are anything but cluttered — nearly spotless, in fact. He slides the tray across the counter, finally unveiling the homemade treats for both human and man's best friend.

"Figured chocolate chip would be simple enough, right?" You speak up, watching him examine one of them. For a few moments, he's lost in thought again, not taking a bite.

You furrow your brows, "please don't tell me I baked the one dessert you don't like."

Instantaneously, a grin smears on his face, then a rumbly snicker. "Nothing like that," he bites the cookie in half and savors its sweetness, "—just not used to having neighbors this deep in the woods, you're my first. And she can bake too, huh? Aren't I lucky?" He teases a bit at the end, rinsing off some chocolate residue from his scarred fingertips.

Well, it was only the recipe on the back of a bag, so you surely hope it would taste decent. You decide it best to leave that out, merely twirling your thumbs as he shuffles around the space.

Finally, he walks back around the counter and holds out the same beer he sipped when he answered the door. Your reluctant fist wrapped around the brown bottle's glass neck, following him as he led you to the porch.

“Weren’t you watching something?” You question, sitting yourself beside him on the cement steps. Zeus’ collar jingle sounded once the back door closed, the sound a signal for him to join his owner out back.

John shook his head, taking another sip of the brew as his achy muscles relaxed again. “You’re doing me a favor; I could cut back on my screen time.” He reached out his free hand and gently patted the dog’s head, giving his fur a few strokes.

“Cut back? By the looks of your land, you’re outside all day.” You retort with a playful scoff, feeling the nuzzle of a wet nose along your leg. Without shame, you glance at his hands, observing their size and condition. “The callouses don’t lie.”

You piqued his interest at the mention of his hands, and he'd noticed just how long you were staring at them. "Suppose you're right, love." On purpose, he caressed the neck of the bottle with his thumb. He takes another hefty sip, which prompts you to take your first.

You didn't have the heart to tell him before how much you disliked the taste. The tangy beer coated your mouth and throat, seemingly sliding down at an agonizing pace just to prolong the torment. Still, the scrunch of your face spilled enough of the fib.

"Faces don't lie, either." Price mocked, taking the barely touched bottle from your grip. His words held double meaning — one harmless and one sinful — though that truth was unbeknownst to both of you.

In a matter of seconds, you'd been caught in a petty lie. You wipe away the bit that dripped between your lips. "Guess you caught me," you chortle, "I don't like beer much."

"Much? Don't be so modest." He screws the top back on and sets it on the wooden deck beside him. "You hate it, don't you?"

The way he spoke had you in some sort of trance. Perhaps it was his age, perhaps it was his obvious past of influence. It was... like being interrogated. Not in the pathetic way an inexperienced civilian would mock his way through, either. The agitation of being put on the spot — feeling as though you'd done something illegal the second you approach airport security.

That is what this felt like; only the words came tender and sportive.

“Alright, I hate it.” You affirm, unable to wipe the simper off your face. “We’ve officially made it through our first lie. That’s a milestone, right? Saves us the sting later.” Unintentionally, you haven’t broken your stare — even when he did to gaze at the sunset in front of him.

Later? Would this company become a routine? How wrong was it for him to hope it would?

Eventually, he nods and turns to face you again, shamelessly taking you in like it was the first time. “Ah, you’re like me. Ten steps ahead, got everything planned out already.” He questions, squinting slightly from the bright dusk, which was actively being snuffed by storm clouds. "Besides, I could tell your lie from miles away. The way you fumbled that bottle."

You waved a flustered hand of dismissal. "Yeah, yeah. Point taken. I'll remember that next time."

John cocked a brow, "next time, eh? With no more fibbing?" He asked you jovially, once again putting you under his spotlight.

But this time you knew how to handle it. Besides, you had learned his ways of meaningless banter — despite only spending several minutes with the man. "Next time I'll make sure it's not so obvious, and you'll be none the wiser."

"It was more than how I held the bottle," you added accusingly. "You don't just afford a place like this with retirement savings. Not without sacrifices."

He was more than someone who once had a mundane, meaningless job. You could tell it from 'miles away' he was a man who had stories to tell. More than his scarred body already did, that was. A fierce career, a position of power — something cutthroat, literally.

Of course, you had no intention of prying. Screwing this relationship up prematurely would be a grave mistake.

Fortunately, he remained untouched by your suspicions; they intrigued him. And John, he knew you weren't wrong about him, either. He was one of the few souls who could confidently declare he'd seen it all — or the closest thing to it.

"Sacrifices... is a way to put it," his lips curled into a polite smile. Finally, he stopped staring holes into you and caught a whiff of musky petrichor in the air. "C'mon, we're due for rain. Get you inside before the mosquitos feast on us."

The same lips pursed, letting out a sharp whistle to recall Zeus. He transformed from a blond dot in the distance into a prancing canine at the speed of light, slowing to a prance when he laid eyes on his owner.

With one hand, he held both bottlenecks between his thick fingers, then opened the back door with the other. Zeus nudged your legs and walked through them, determined to get inside first. The sight made you snicker as you walked inside, hearing the soft creak of the door behind you.

His work boots thudded against the wooden floor as he took them off, setting them neatly beside the door. Yet another unusual trait for men his age living alone, at least in your experience. No clutter in sight, and no grime residue from his tireless yard work.

Now, his steps are a glide instead of thuds when he walks around the breakfast bar. You turned to face him, watching as he ignited a burner for the kettle. "Do you fancy drinking something you'll actually enjoy? Tea?"

You lean against the island, unintentionally allowing a bit of the dress neckline to droop.

“Tea will work.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

In front of you were the only signs of his old self. Metals and ribbons encased behind a glass frame, hung up in the hall as a quaint display of his achievements. Below them, on the hall table, decorative mason jars; most with faux leaves and vines. You made your way up and down, admiring how the rustic, shipshape decor was placed with such intention.

As your gaze panned left to right, you made it to the end of the display. Interest arose when you examined the last jar; a small mason with a bullet inside, littered with indents and some bits chipped away. Your mind swirled with scenarios as you put together the story told in front of you. A career so intense, so all-important; it was difficult to imagine the man in the kitchen enmeshed in one.

In the distance, the kettle whistles, effectively ripping you from your peering. Before he can shout for you, you’ve walked around the corner, ready to claim a drink your mouth will savor.

“Here you are.” Across the marble countertop, Price slid forward the mug.

A green tea of sorts, with a bit of cream on top and a dust of cinnamon. The presentation is nowhere near seamless, with its lopsided spoonful of foam and granules that ended up sprinkled unevenly through his fingers. Still, there was nothing wrong with a drink that looked homemade.

“Matcha?” You ask, wrapping your fingers around the handle of the mug, then using your supporting hand to hold the small plate it’s resting on.

Price glances at the tea box through the frosted glass cabinets then nods. When he presses his own mug to his lips, the tea is ebony and swirling like a cyclone from the sugar he mixed in.

From the corner of your eye, you skim past him and gaze out the window overlooking the deep copper sink. Through its rectangular pane, you see the string of herbs and leaves grown — well-tended and used often in his cooking, surely.

You point a free finger towards the fresh greens outside, “do you grow it?”

He lets out a rumbly chuckle and shakes his head, “if I could. Matcha plants are loads of work.” You now spot the pasty green box poking through the cabinet, which you hadn’t noticed when too occupied with the herb planters.

You mutter a ‘hm’ in response and raise the porcelain rim to your lips, feeling the steam scald the tip of your nose and Cupid's bow. The vegetal fragrance of the green tea soothes your senses — just before the spice of cinnamon gives them a right hook.

To keep your eyes from tearing, you close them and take your first sip. It’s thicker than you anticipated, coating your mouth and throat as you swallow, yet the taste is pleasant and earthy.

Whatever John had done to prepare it, he did it correctly. That much you could tell.

Before your throat can sizzle with aftertaste, the cold foam dollop calms it. From grassy, fresh matcha to a striking sweet cream.

“You have a bit…” Price motions to his mouth, an index pointed toward the left corner of his mouth. The cream is too airy for you to notice any accidental residue. You’ve missed the swear twice before he sighs and raises a crumpled napkin to your lips.

You meet gazes while he dabs at your bottom lip, feeling any confidence seep from you in an instant.

The sweet aroma fleeted instantly with the proximity, now with your nostrils flooded with his fragrance. Smokey and masculine; something rum-adjacent, mixed sinfully with cedarwood and the earthy smell of crisp soil. And then, lastly, there are the pungent remnants of his minty mouthwash, which is slightly diluted by the black tea he swallowed.

This close, you can trace every wrinkle and line with your eyes. While you’re engulfed in his presence, he’s observing. Smothered and suffocating with the weight of diminishing continence. The vermillion sundress, the tray of goodies in the corner of his vision, the twitch of your lips as he dabs and drags with the linen.

Price has yet to notice his other hand, grabbing the tip of your chin with a feather-like hold.

But you have, blinking rapidly a few times while the chalky foam is rid of your mouth, which might as well have been thrown in the trash along with the napkin — because you’ve turned reticent.

“There.” He whispers, mouth curling into a polite glow.

Ultimately, your haze falters. Your senses unfreeze when you’re no longer swarmed by his aroma, or his tender touch when he walks back around the breakfast bar. Warmth coaxes your fingers, still emanating from the tea snug in your grip — even after the milky olive-tinted liquid has gone tepid.

With a perpetually widened gaze, you raised your mug to finish off the rest of your tea. This neighborly visit had played out differently than you expected. You savored about half of the lukewarm brew, letting it mellow the pining that arose when he got close. Sweaty fingers fumbled around the handle when you tipped the cup again, sending a gush of tea down the front of your outfit. The fabric stained instantaneously as the warmth soaked in, whilst the sugary cream made the dress cling in an unsavory, sticky fashion.

You cursed audibly and darted your gaze towards him apologetically, setting the mug down with a clammer. “I’m sorry,” you gasped, feeling an ocean’s wave of dishonor pummel through you at once.

John, who was mid-cleanup, jerked his head to the side when he heard the commotion. When greeted with the frazzled expression, he made an effort to soothe it. It wasn’t your fault; it was only some overpriced, boxed infusion that had collected dust in the back of his cabinet.

Besides, you were in front of him, now in soaked clothing and apologizing profusely.

“Don’t apologize. Happens to the best of us.” That damn smile again. The wrinkles around his eyes, the almost all-knowing look of understanding in them.

He fisted your discarded mug, turning on the sink.

“The washroom is down the hall, in my room. It has a better mirror than the half.” Price wavers through his instructions, overcome with his own helping of uncertainty. Nothing had gone explicitly wrong, per se, but it didn’t mean they went right. But they never do, do they? There’s a reason he decided on a life of recluse, even more, a reason for him to befriend seclusion so closely.

Your footsteps retreated down the hall, passing the picture frames and decor you had been admiring moments ago. John scrubbed both mugs until they were full of suds and then rinsed, placing them on the dish rack afterward. He made it a habit to never leave used dishes to sit in the sink.

Quickly, he walked through the open door of his bedroom. Golden beams peeked out from the gap under the door, where you were frantically blotting the stains. He pulled the string on his bedside lamp, illuminating a majority of the moody, rustic bedroom. His fingers hooked around the handle, gently sliding open the pocket doors of his closet.

His t-shirts hung neatly on the left wall, whilst his fewer button-ups remained on the opposite. With a quick hum, he took hold of his baggiest navy blue tee, draping it over his forearm. From inside his dresser, he grabbed a pair of sweats that were tight on him — enough to prevent them from slipping down your legs.

Inside the bathroom, you alternated between being hunched over the counter in embarrassment, to rubbing your dress profusely. The damp washcloth was doing little to the fabric, which was a few shades darker from the liquid, compressing tighter against you. It wasn’t a flattering look, nor was it a comfortable fit anymore. Akin to the feeling of maple syrup residue on your hands after breakfast, only it was covering the front of your body.

Would it have been better to spill on his authentic wood floors? Was it completely selfish to prefer it, to spare the discomfort of a soaked garment?

Two subdued knocks on the door halted your useless wiping. “I have some clothes.” The gruff voice spoke through the door, yet remained as placid as it was in the kitchen.

“Oh, no need,” you replied dismissively through the door. “I can change at home.” You tossed the wet towel into the small hamper. When you opened the door, Price remained standing there, fresh clothing in hand.

The thought was there, and now were the actions to go along. You didn’t want to change at home or be walking down that dirt avenue at all. At this hour, home would be lonesome and still, regardless of whether your new neighbor was fanciable or not.

But he was; that made him all the harder to decline.

Void of any attempt on John’s part, his gaze scanned the mess that covered you. This time, more obvious than he would’ve liked. It felt wrong; downright distasteful and discouraging, to do so.

Howbeit, he did — and you sensed it this time. The unavoidable gawking at your snug gown, devouring his dwindling abstinence. No unease, imminence, or desire to dismiss yourself ever came. Not like it did with men on the street, who resembled that of depraved, hungry hounds.

John wasn’t corrupted; behind the lust, there was something more, something too complex to daydream.

“Nonsense.” He persisted, the clothes remaining outstretched. “It’s raining. And you’ve got to walk quite a way, don’t you?”

You leaned your head against the thick wood of the door, unable to spit out another worthy excuse. “Thank you. Really.” With a nod, you took the folded clothing, setting the pieces on the countertop beside you. As he accepted your answer and turned on his heels, you mustered the gut to speak again.

“And, John?” You stepped through the threshold of the door, “if I go home in these clothes, you probably won’t get them back.”

“I’ll keep the dish, then.” This time, he didn’t back away after stepping closer. “Do we have a deal?” His breathing picked up subtly but was noticeable against your face. When faced with his proximity before, you fumbled a mug. But now, you were certain of every ache and desire troubling you.

Whoever leaned in first became a fleeting afterthought. It didn’t matter, not while your mouths and noses clashed together. He was the first to give way, to tilt his head to relieve the pressure on your nose, which allowed him more mobility.

Your knees nearly buckled when his hands cupped your cheeks — how the calloused prints of his fingers felt against the opposing texture of your face. It felt natural; a relief to every urge you’ve stifled from the moment he answered his door.

Before you broke away for air, he removed his lips while still maintaining his tender hold on your face.

“Are you sure about this…?” Price posed, pressing his forehead against yours. You exchanged each other's exhales, cloaking your racing thoughts with a suffocating, dizzy effect.

Still, regardless of your thundering heartbeat and draining lungs — you uttered the quickest yes of your lifetime. This time, you turned your head when lips and teeth clashed, back colliding with the door. Your lips parted as you panted, letting his tongue swipe along your lips, leaving them saturated. His beard audibly scraped against your jaw and down your neck, producing goosebumps as you shivered.

Though his movements weren’t theatrical or jaw-dropping, they left you unable to lose focus. His hands wrapped around the sleeves of the ruined gown, rolling the fabric down while he dropped into a kneel before you.

A need to provide, to satisfy, to satiate. No teases, no dramatics; just utter experience. The only terms you would associate with him currently.

The clingy fabric peeled off like a sticky bandage, peeling to expose the damn stain from cleavage to your pelvis. John’s briefly raised to suckle between your breasts, cleaning off every drop of the tea that had soaked through the discarded dress. Down; sternum to belly button, savoring the small remnants of the sweet cream.

“So beautiful,” he muttered, lips pressed to your lower stomach. His hands moved and kneaded your hips in worship. Despite his face hovering in front of your panties, and how he was actively trailing kisses along your thighs — his voice never changed. Not cloaked with blind lust or hesitation.

Admiration, purely; for you, maybe only your body. But you didn’t care about that — or couldn’t — right now. John was utterly too much, From light conversation to huddling in the restroom, then to being backed against the door. One hand rested on your lower stomach, as a means of keeping your back against the door. The other rolled your undergarments down at a sluggish pace, beard and lips following the falling undies.

Your neck craned down, seeing them fall to your ankles, shortly before the cold breeze hit your exposed core — emanating from the bathroom window left slightly ajar. The muscles in your thighs tense when Price’s tongue finally makes brief contact with it, blown pupils still staring up at you.

His tongue lay flat against your clit for a few moments until saliva rolled down his tongue, allowing him to delve deeper. Further on, he would kiss and suckle on the bundle of nerves, and you were sure your grip on the knob couldn’t have been firmer. Experience truly was the right word to describe him, earlier and now more than ever.

Along your slit, he plunged inside, growly breaths vibrating against your sensitivity. Your taste coated his mouth, and your natural scent drove him mad; like no other partner he’d had before.

“Wanna feel you—” Price slurped again, then pulled away to finish, “—clench around my fingers. You want that, sweetheart?” His tongue glistened under the spotty lighting, his buff chest still heavy. He was goddamn distracting in this state, more than he was before.

After a flash of muteness, you nodded your head. As if you could pass up that offer; if it was an offer at all.

True to his word and the desires racing through his head, John slipped his middle finger inside your entrance. Instantly, the appendage glided against the soaked, puffy walls of your cunt, causing him to chuckle with satisfaction.

Even the smallest pump forced a whine from your lips, though you were unsure what you should be pleading for. Tonight, this feeling was already unsurpassed.

“Another, huh? Can’t fuckin’ say no to you, can I?” Next entered his ring finger, the thick digits stretching you out delectably, in ways you could only dream of executing with your own two fingers.

His name slipped out when he curled them against your sweet spot, daring your knees to buckle and send both of you tumbling. His eerily observant nature had him anticipating the sudden weakness, and his other hand holding you in place never once faltered. Finding his shaggy hair, your fingers intertwined with the locks, purely to be holding onto anything of his when you inevitably come undone.

Back to slobbering, his tongue ran laps against your swollen clit, the tip of his nose knocking against it with every pass. Each flick, each thrust making your back arch wildly against the door. And once again, as he anticipated, you ended up clenching around his fingers like he wanted.

So tense, it was any wonder Price was able to keep moving his fingers. His erection pressed against his thigh, the tight denim making him resist the urge to squirm. Oh, how you sounded, how you felt. His years of stamina and strength training will surely be tested once it’s his cock filling you up instead.

The nub throbbed and visibly pulsed when he combined a well-timed lick and curl all at once, plunging you off that cliff of release. Around his head, your thighs clamped tighter than the fingers digging into his scalp. It was clear you’d be reeling this feeling for days to come, probably a climax to forever be unbeaten during your life.

Your heart hammered against your rib cage, your lungs exhausted and working overtime as you sucked in desperate breaths. “Fuck— that was…” You breathed, unable to articulate any one of the feelings assaulting your system.

The leer tugging at the corners of his soaked mouth wasn’t smug, it was pleased; pleasantly. Slowly, he raised himself, holding each side of your face. Price slurred, “You sound lovely when you cum, y’know that?” Before you could lift a finger to answer again, his dangerous tongue swirled around yours, spreading the taste of yourself against your taste buds.

Your sticky inner thighs glided when he blindly led you out of the threshold, collapsing atop you. The frame creaked under the weight of both of you, the mattress now with a crater in the center of it.

“Want you to fuck me, John. Please.” You pleaded between kisses, unconsciously wrapping a leg around his waist for any friction on the mess he caused. The sensitive tip of his cock ached, despite only being rocked against through the thick denim.

As if your sounds of pleasure weren’t divine enough, that fucking word was. Please. So desperate, so distraught. If he had the restraint or the patience, Price might coax a few more begs out of you — but those were the two things he didn’t have currently.

Briefly, his touches ceased when he leaned back. Swiftly unbuckling his belt, he slid out of his jeans and tossed them aside; discarded, now the only clutter in the bedroom. Soaked through his grey briefs, a stain of pre-cum, merely proving how badly he needed you. The same as his jeans, he rid himself of them, erection upright and freed.

Girthy and curved upward a hair, capable of reaching deeper than his fingers. Down his happy trail, which you got a peak of during the first encounter, were his trimmed pubes. The same shade of brown as the hair littering his chest. You examined further, spotting a few prominent veins bound to drive you mad.

Any longer without it, and you were willing to start pawing at him. The stars must’ve been aligned, because pleading wasn’t necessary anymore.

“Spread your legs f’me.” You did, as swiftly as he uttered the command. As wide as comfortable, you exposed the mess of your pussy to him, reflecting off the cool moonlight peaking through his blinds. Glistening and twitching from the first climax, remnants still left around your inner thighs. “Gonna fill you up, fuck you proper, hm? Have you clenching around me?”

As if his fingers weren’t euphoric enough. Gnawing on your bottom lip until it ached, you nodded your head eagerly, hooking an arm around your leg to keep the shaky limb steady.

Price gripped the base of his cock, guiding it toward your entrance. The tip slipped in as smooth as honey, coated in slick and strings of his saliva leftover. With a drenched glide, the rest of him dipped inside, until his pelvis was against yours.

Entirely crammed inside, your head lolled back against the comforter, reeling in the painless stretch of his girth. And how, before the movements began, the natural curve of his cock had him snug against your cervix, kissing all the right places within you. Your fingers trailed downward, beginning to rub circles around your responsive clit, the wet clicks combining with the squelch of his thrusts.

Whatever noises came from you were all-natural and uncontrollable, from a sensual place within you never trespassed. John grunted with every tighten around his length, pumping deeply and with more force. His thoughts earlier rang true, how little restraint you left him with. Already, he could’ve finished inside of you — just from the view of your body alone.

Breasts bouncing, hips jiggling, the sounds of your soaked core, the expression on your face as he got rougher. “Such a good girl, takin’ every inch of me,” his words came out grunts, matching the pace of his jabs.

“You’ll cum for me again, and let me hear those bloody sounds, won’t you? Fuckin’ touching yourself, all needy.” For him, the words acted as a distraction until you came undone for a second time. For you, it enhances your stimulation tenfold — his voice was like nectar, yet it rumbled through the room like thunder.

It mixed with the real thunder outside, which you caught bits of between everything. The rain he said the area was due for, faintly coming down in the distance, and surely headed this way by the time your legs shook.

With a soft nudge, he shimmied closer between your thighs, chest inches from yours, and allowed him to slam against your cervix. Your fingers had gone erratic, desperately teasing the bundle of nerves the closer you got to release.

And John, sure of this, allowed himself to focus on a fraction of his pleasure. You twitched around his length, swallowing every last inch of him. Arousal dribbled from you to the bed, soaking into the navy blue duvet.

When the coil of pleasure began bursting at the seams, his name slipped out again, in between your gasps for oxygen. How his thrusts had turned as sloppy as your fingers, every jerk of his pelvis knocking the wind out of you. Your legs wrapped tight around his waist, feet hooking under his backside to keep him locked in — as if the thought of stopping had ever crossed his mind.

Thighs quivering like your fingers were, you dug your fingernails into his shoulders, leaving crescent indents in his flesh. Yet another string of moans poured out of you, which tipped John over the edge same edge you’d tumbled off twice. His balls contracted while they drained, strings of pearly cum painting you on the inside.

Warmth filled you, from your tummy to your core, his length swimming in his own sloppy release. Your constricted ab muscles slowly eased up as the aftermath of orgasm faded, leaving you breathless and spent. His agape mouth dipped down as he withdrew his softening cock from you slowly, careful to not leave you any more sensitive than you already were.

The kiss distracted you and served as a reminder of what this hookup meant. Not regretful, not meaningless. Something lingered in the air, beyond the smell of sweat and sex.

Though his body begged to collapse atop you and fall fast asleep, you deserved to be taken care of. Price planted a parting kiss on your jaw, making the short trip to the bathroom to grab one of his fresh washcloths.

Silently, you observed his tenderness take over — even though it never left him. With a few featherlike swipes, he wiped away the messy aftermath of arousal, saliva, and cum, disposing of the used towel somewhere in the darkness.

You fought to stay awake, feeling his weight sink beside you once more after some squirming around. Eventually, John successfully got you and himself under the thick comforter, weighted and radiating as much warmth as your bodies. An arm snaked under your head, your back against his chest. The other arm around your waist, keeping you right up against his soft body.

He waited until he saw the rise and fall of your frame, the faint breaths of deep sleep before he decided that was permission enough to do the same.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Insects chirped loudly, enough to stir you awake.

Fresh morning light peaked through the blinds, which had been opened. Through your twitching lids, the intensity made your face scrunch. One hand reached up and rubbed them, while the other palmed beside you.

No sign of your neighbor, if he can have that title after last night.

His side had gone cold, and anything that was askew had been picked up or set back in place. Sitting yourself up, you groaned from hunger and the soreness in your legs. Beside the dresser, were the sweatpants and t-shirt he was going to lend you yesterday. Still neatly folded, placed with care on one of his leather armchairs.

You peeled the comforter off your sticky skin, coated with a layer of sweat from the sunlight on you. Usually overheating would’ve had you lying awake and sizzling, but it was clear that Price had thoroughly tired you out.

In addition to the shirt and pants, he provided a clean pair of boxers — since the ones you came over wearing had been long soiled. And nowhere to be found in the bathroom, where you made your best effort to fix up your appearance.

Aside from the sounds of nature, there was the hum of an appliance when you opened the bedroom door. Down the hall, you passed the dryer; the root of the tumbling sound. Through the small window, was your cherry sundress and underwear, half dry and spinning in circles.

Your bare feet adjusted to the cold wood, taking small, sleepy strides down the hall.

Into the living room, you laid eyes on the shelves around his television. Since you spent most of the visit on the porch, in the kitchen, and obviously the bedroom, you hadn’t had time to inspect this area closely.

Custom-built shelves frame the television. Rustic, meticulous decor placed on them. Some were store-bought, others looked to be souvenirs and memories. Stepping closer, you spotted a few framed photos; four soldiers, with Sharpie written on the corner: 1-4-1.

On the bright side, there is one mystery solved about his past. Military, or SAS, which you spot on their patches. Shuffling along, your gaze sets on the next section. More medals and ribbons, each most likely with their own significance.

Most notably, a plaque displaying his full name and title: Capt. Jonathan Price.

Another mystery solved. Why he had been so observant, so skilled at asking his questions. It all began to make sense, especially the closer you examined the relics. With a slight hm, you decided it best to stop snooping on the man’s possessions and continue your search for him.

No sign of Zeus in the house either, which isn’t shocking since he’s practically sewn to John’s hip.

Through the kitchen you go, finally picking up on the faint voice outside. Through the window overlooking the copper sink, you see Price tending to the herbs you pointed out the previous day, seemingly making conversation with his canine.

You continue on, opening the creaky patio door and shutting it behind you. You walk along the stained wood deck, rounding the corner. He’s in the middle of kneeling down, meticulously planting another herb or seasoning for his mini-garden.

“Looking good, Captain.” You startle him slightly, leaning a shoulder against the paneling of the cabin.

Price’s head perks up, snapping to the side at the sudden sound. And Zeus predictably treks over for your undivided attention, and you’re unable to refuse. The golden walks beside you when you approach further, and John gets to his feet with a small grunt.

“Snooping again, are we?” His lips curl into a harmless smile, dirt-covered fingers playing with the backs of your hands.

You shrug your shoulders, unable to conceal the feelings of fluster. Being put on the spot was something you’d have to get used to, that’s for sure. “Maybe I was. Just a little bit.”

“Careful now, sweetheart.” His voice molds into that of a superior, which you hadn’t heard from him yet. Was it twisted how much it excites you? Price continued, “or I might have you calling me Captain from here on.”

With a light scoff, you muster the last bits of confidence left in you.

“Is that a promise?”

♡‧₊˚✧˖° divider cred. - cafekitsune

#mw2 #call of duty #task force 141 #price mw2 #captain john price #john price #captain price #price #john price headcanons #price headcanons #captain price headcanons #john price x you #john price x reader #captain price x reader #price x reader #price x you #captain price x you #john price x y/n

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nicksolemnlyswears · 7 months

Text

TWO IS COMPANY, THREE IS A CROWD

SWEET TREAT

pairing: opla!zoro x reader, opla!sanji x reader

word count: 1.7k

warning: 18+, smut, swearing, penetration (p in v), fingering, slight vouyerism (?), very little spit play, zoro has a biting and pain kink

a/n: i want to preface this by saying that i have never seen the original anime 'one piece'. if you have watched it and you think the character are super ooc i apologize but i warned you.

i watched the netflix live action and i fell in love with it and its characters. i liked it a lot more than i ever thought. as soon as i finished it this prompt came into my head and here i am 24 hours later.

this is my first time writing about opla so please be kind to me :')

With everyone on the crew busy you have the perfect opportunity to slip into the cabin Zoro and Sanji share. Your green haired boyfriend waits for you on his hanging bed. He has an arm thrown around his eyes, pretending to take a nap.

You slide your shoes off and saunter to the bed where you straddle his relaxed body and lean over his chest. The pads of your fingers playfully trace his exposed chest. He calmly removes his arm from his eyes and wraps it around you instead. A soft grin adorns his sharp features.

He heard you coming down the hall, he knows the difference in the steps of his crew mates. That and he noticed your heated stare throughout the day while he practiced with his swords. A book may have been in your hands but your eyes were locked on his figure.

“Hi handsome,” you whisper with a bite of your lip.

“Missed me already?” Zoro smirks, twirling a strand of your hair with his finger.

He's surprised it took you more than ten minutes to seek him out. He had been expecting you to barge through the door as soon as he walked in. Guess he has to give you more credit than that.

“Desperately,” you say, catching his lips with yours in a heated kiss.

He knows what you want. The escape to his room in pretense of a nap was all a ruse to get you in his bed. And you followed the unspoken plan seamlessly. Your absence on deck went nearly unnoticed.

Zoro's hands firmly grasp your thick thighs, pulling you flush against him. You moan into his mouth as one of your hands gets tangled in his hair. The other runs up and down his chest, feeling the scar left behind from a duel and his hard muscles.

You love his strong hands and how they cling to your body whenever you’re near. His touch is hot on your skin, leaving blazing flames of arousal behind. The callouses in his hands add to the sensations coursing through you.

His fingers teasingly play with the hem of your skirt, lifting it to touch the skin underneath. He cheekily gives your ass a squeeze before grabbing a fistful of your dress and taking it completely off your body.

It forces you to break your kiss yet a string of saliva connects the two of you. Zoro watches this with lustful eyes, lips smashing back against yours, teeth nipping your bottom lip.

Zoro sits up with you still on his lap, holding onto his strong shoulders. Against your protests he pulls away, glancing at your nearly naked body.

"Tsk." He should’ve known you wouldn’t be wearing a bra, you tend to avoid the tight garment as much as possible. You smile cheekily at him, playfully arching your back to temp him into taking what he wants.

Just like in his day to day, Zoro is quiet in bed. Opting to make you moan and cry out his name. All you get from him are quiet hums of approval, grunts and the occasional swear word.

With one hand holding you in place, he lifts his other hand to grasp at your soft flesh. Your nipples perk up feeling his warm touch and Zoro takes advantage of that as he lightly pinches them between the pads of his fingers and pulls on them.

You watch his concentrated face with your lip between your teeth, holding back moans. Your breaths are shaky something he can clearly feel as he leaves open mouthed kisses down the expanse of your neck and chest, sucking pretty bruises on your skin.

Your hips begin grinding lightly against his to try and somewhat relieve yourself. Zoro is in no rush though as he takes his time sucking a nipple into his mouth, massaging it with his tongue. That's when he looks up at you and catches your eye. He mischievously shoots you a wink and bites down on your nipple.

"Fuck," you cry out in pleasure as he soothes the ache with his tongue.

Zoro quiets you down by kissing you once more. While you're distracted his touch trails down between your legs.

“Been wanting this a while, huh?” He teases, feeling the strings of your arousal coating your panties.

“All day,” you pant, planting another kiss on his lips.

“Thought you got your fix this morning,” he mentions casually, tilting his head. He's feeling you though the thin material, outlining every part of you as it clings to your skin.

“Not enough,” you pout, leaning your forehead against his.

“Typical,” he scoffs. “Let me take care of you.”

Your underwear easily snaps with a tug of his fingers. You glare at him disapprovingly. He laughs it off, kissing the pout from your lips. Then Zoro dips his finger in your folds, feeling and spreading your wetness without a barrier to hold him back. With your eyes scrunched in pleasure your head drops on his shoulder, begging in his ear to keep touching you. To give you more.

He circles your clit as his other hand touches the rest of your body. His hand grips your side, your chest, your thighs, it has a mind of its own as it does as it pleases with your body. Zoro bites your shoulder as he pushes one of his long fingers in you. He's always been one to play with the limits of pain and pleasure.

"Yes, Zoro. Baby, please." Your begging is chopped and incoherent but he understands what he needs without you telling him.

One finger becomes two and soon your hips rock along to the pace. You've returned to kissing his lips to keep quiet. The crew should be outside, out of earshot but you can never be too cautious. The only noise in the cabin is the squelching coming from Zoro's finger in your pussy and the smacking of your lips.

His digits curve just how you like it, hitting that spot inside of you as his palm hits your clit with each push. He's relentless once his teasing comes to a halt. Over and over Zoro sends jolts of electricity through you.

You're slumped in his lap as your hips ride his fingers. Your forehead falls against his as you try to keep your whines to a minimum. You whisper praises and words of encouragement until that knot in your stomach begins unraveling.

“Gonna cum,” you cry out. You bury your fingers in his hair and his back as your walls begin to contract around his fingers.

“That’s it, baby,” Zoro praises, feeling your pussy clench rhythmically around his fingers. Your thighs shake just the same, wave after wave.

You're flushed atop of Zoro, catching your breath. His fingers leave you but then soon come to rest on your bitten-red lips. You open them willingly, tasting yourself on his fingers as you lock eyes with him.

As he pulls his fingers back you say, “I wanna ride you, Zoro. Can I?”

"You can handle it, baby? All on your own?" He asks, teasing you. He's being a little shit who wants to give you a hard time.

You eagerly nod, unbuttoning his tight pants and taking them off along with his shirt. His cock is hard and pretty. He has a nice length but is more on the thicker side. You release a shaky breath remembering the delicious stretch it provides. The tip of his cock is a dark pink always enticing you to lick it.

“Get it wet for me baby,” he orders you as he lies back in bed with his arms folded behind his head.

You're wet enough to take him but Zoro likes to watch you drool over his cock. Grabbing his cock that lays hard on his abdomen, you open your mouth and stick your tongue out, letting a strip of saliva fall down to his cock. His precum and your saliva mix as you wrap your hand around him to spread it.

You look to him for approval and he nods. You adjust yourself over him, pussy hovering over his erect cock. You line him up and press his tip on your entrance, letting it gather your arousal.

With your patience running thin you sink down slowly, taking inch after inch. The sting of him stretching you out unmistakably erotic. Zoro's eyes jump from watching your fucked out expression to your pussy swallowing his dick.

Your eyebrows furrow and your mouth falls agape as you fall flush against him. The dark patch of hair at his base tickling your thighs. You could cry from how good you're feeling and the immense pleasure coursing through your body.

His palms caress your thighs, encouraging you. It's a silent praise for doing it so well. You feel Zoro thrust from under you, a sign you should start riding him.

"Fuck," Zoro silently curses as his eyes zone in on your tits bouncing along with you. His hand instantly reaches out, flicking and pulling on your nipples.

"Zoro," you moan, hands splayed on his stomach, bracing yourself. With each bounce you feel him hitting that spot, again and again.

Unlike Zoro, you are not physically strong. You can't fight for hours without breaking a sweat so it's no surprise you start getting tired. Your thigh muscles ache, making your movement sloppy. Each time you slow down though he spanks you, making you jump and pick the pace back up.

Zoro could do more to help you but he doesn't feel like it. He likes seeing how far you'll go to get what you want. You just want to use him for your pleasure and he's letting you do just that. He has enough controlling himself to not nut so soon from the vice grip your cunt has on his cock.

Getting frustrated with Zoro's spanks you grab his hands pining them down on his stomach with yours. Any other day it would've been far from enough, but he lets you be.

You're no quitter though you won't let Zoro take over so instead you choose to rock your hips back and forth. The pleasure is just the same as your clit drags on his pubic bone. Your eyes close and your head is thrown back as you get used to the new sensation. Chasing your release is the only thing on your mind.

“Came to say dinner is ready but you two seem busy,” a voice speaks from the door. Sanji.

He's watching the spectacle in front of him. He should've known you were up to no good when he noticed your absence in the kitchen. You often like to keep him company and help him out wherever you can.

“S-sanji,” your eyes widen in surprise. Even from across the room Sanji can hear the lewd noises your wet cunt makes with each movement.

“You did a shit job this morning,” Zoro grunts as your walls choke his cock more than before. Sanji watching the two of you will do that to you.

Sanji walks up to the bed saying, “It’s not my fault she’s insatiable. I had her screaming into her pillow this morning. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” He asks, grabbing your chin with two fingers.

"Yes," you breathe out, looking up at your other boyfriend. Sanji rewards you with a slow kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth. Zoro watches the two of you, rolling his eyes.

"Hmm," he mutters, "Good girl."

Sanji inspects you with calculating eyes. His finger follows his gaze as it wanders from your cheek to the mark on your neck he left this morning, it continues to your shoulder where it circles around the bite mark Zoro just created. It continues its descent down your sternum as he avoids touching your chest. As he nears your slit his finger lifts from your skin and a smack is delivered to your ass. How he wishes he can switch with Zoro at that moment. It's of no matter though he'll have you in his bed later in the night.

"Join us," you beg Sanji, trying to chase his lips but he pulls back. "Want both of you."

That same sentence is what got you in this predicament in the first place. Both men were attracted to you and you were attracted to both of them. It was too hard to choose one over the other so you all made a relatively simple agreement.

"I'm afraid I can't, darling," Sanji apologetically smiles, giving you one last kiss. “Finish up soon or Luffy won't leave any food for the two of you.” he says, leaving the room once more.

The last thing he catches is Zoro flipping you over to your knees, your chest pressed against the mattress and your surprised expression as he pushes back into you. Zoro loves when you take the lead, but it's time he takes things back into his own hands if either of you wants to have dinner.

#opla #opla fanfiction #opla sanji #opla zoro #one piece live action #opla smut #one piece x reader #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro x reader #sanji x reader #zoro x reader x sanji #one piece fanfiction

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jinnie-ret · 7 months

Text

heatstroke

stray kids x ninth member!reader

genre: fluff, angst

content warnings: heat stroke, vomiting

word count: 1.9k

summary: y/n suffers from heat stroke on the day of their performance at lollapalooza

As voted by you!

It's finally here! Sorry it took me a while to post this after the poll ended, but I hope you enjoy!

As always, like, reblog if you enjoyed, and my asks are open for any requests you may have. And let me know if you'd like to be tagged when I post :)

MAIN MASTERLIST

They had made it to Paris. Y/N couldn't believe how big the crowd would be for their performance at the festival 'Lollapalooza'. The sun was shining, and all she wanted to do was fully appreciate the nice weather. Although, where there was a Changbin, there was always chaos.

"Hwang Hyunjin!" Changbin called from opposite Y/N in his deck chair.

"Why do you keep calling me? Wae? Wae. Wae?" Hyunjin loomed over Changbin in a hoodie and sunglasses, wondering why the older member wanted his attention.

"Jinnie how are you wearing a hoodie right now? The sun's out, it's boiling," Y/N raised an eyebrow at him.

"It's not that hot," he shook his head at her, probably side eyeing her from behind his shades.

Each to their own, Y/N thought.

Somehow they came onto the topic of noodles but Y/N wasn't really fussed, she had ramen all the time back home.

She was more trying to relax, and she couldn't help but fall asleep from the comforting warmth of the French sunshine.

"Y/Nnie, wake up, you look like a tomato," Jeongin shook her awake, and as she became fully aware she realised her arms and neck was feeling quite hot.

Shit, she forgot her sun cream.

"You good? Your arms are so red," Chan peered at her, concerned.

"Mmm, my neck feels hot too," Y/N sits up in the deck chair, brushing her hair back so the boys could see.

"Aish that sunburn looks bad, you should have put on some suncream," Felix lightly brushes his finger over her red arm, making her wince.

"Gosh, I'm going to look like a tomato when we perform," Y/N laughs as she looks down at her arms.

"At this rate you won't just look like a tomato, you'll look like the whole garden," Lee Know smirks, proud of his joke.

"Ha, ha, very funny Lee Know," Y/N pats his cheek in a jokingly patronising way, smiling back at him.

"You need to take better care of yourself, Y/N," Chan looked over her, shaking his head.

"I'm sorry Channie, I just wanted to enjoy the nice weather," Y/N pouted.

"You do realise you can get skin cancer if you burn too much?" Seungmin pointed out, taking a sip of water from his bottle.

"Yah, Seungmin don't say things like that I'll get paranoid," Y/N whacks his arm lightly.

"Hey I'm just saying, your skin will age faster too," Seungmin shrugged.

"I'll look like an old woman next to you guys and I'm the youngest!" Y/N laughed, Han appearing with aloe vera out of nowhere and gently rubbing it into her skin, letting out quiet apologies when she winced.

"That's why I'm helping you, don't want you to look like a 60 year old next to us whilst we still look the same," Han laughed loudly.

"Haha, that would look kinda funny though," Y/N laughed at the thought. Perhaps she'd look like grandma I.N with the rest of the group alongside her.

"You know what else would be funny?" Changbin wiggled his eyebrows at her.

"What?" Y/N asked curiously, shifting her body to stand and face him.

"To see you dancing on stage like a tomato, everyone going crazy because of how big and red you are," Changbin maniacally giggled.

The boys burst out laughing at the statement and Y/N's face.

"Huh? Big?!" Y/N gasped laughing.

"I was talking about your cheeks, they're really big and red right now," Changbin laughed, waving his hands in defense of how what he said had sounded.

"Haha, I'll introduce myself like, hi! This isn't Y/Nnie, I'm tomato today!" Y/N put on her stage voice, pretending to introduce herself to her fans.

The members all laugh at her, Jeongin walking up to her and tickling her sides.

"Hey! Are you the new mascot for ketchup?" he cheekily grinned, eyes disappearing through his smile.

"Yah! Jeongin!" Y/N guffawed from his remark.

"Ah, our tomato is blushing so much," Lee Know pats her head smirking.

"Stop, stop," Y/N waves them away.

"Haha, seriously though, come inside the tent for a bit, you should stay out of the sun," Chan guided her into their tent where they were setup before their performance.

"Yeah it's not like we're performing until a few hours anyways," Lee Know nodded, as they all sat around inside.

"Aish, I'm tired," Y/N laid her head down in Han's lap, his hand brushing through her hair out of habit.

"You were literally just napping," Hyunjin raised a brow at her.

"Yeah but..." Y/N closed her eyes feeling relaxed at the familiar feeling.

"Drink some water first," Hyunjin put a bottle of water with a straw in it to her face.

Still with her eyes shut she took a sip and then relaxed. It wasn't until a couple of hours later that she was woken up and ushered to the stylists and makeup artists to get ready.

The crowd was insane. And really, they were the only thing keeping her going as she could feel her energy depleting. She didn't notice the glances from the boys throughout the performance, occasionally spotting her swaying yet she still managed to keep her vocals stable as they performed Superbowl for the first time ever, and Item for the second time ever.

The euphoria running through her veins began to leave her once they reached backstage. With a smile she listened to Felix end their set to hype the crowd with Seven Nation Army. But she couldn't help her slumped figure as she sat down after her desperate search for a chair.

"You good, Y/Nnie?" Chan patted her shoulder, trying to get her attention.

"Hot," Y/N panted, tugging at the collar of her leather jacket that she had been fitted with for the stage performance.

"Take it off then," Changbin helped her shake it off, now feeling concerned at her heavily sweating state.

"What's going on with Y/N?" some of the other members asked as they walked over.

"Ugh, my head," she groaned, now leant forward as she gripped onto her knees for some stability.

"Have some water, silly," Seungmin encouraged her to take his own, yet her shaky hand wasn't very reassuring to the others.

"Y/Nnie, you can't even hold onto it, are you dizzy? What's the matter?" Felix poured out questions, worried about the state she was in.

"Mmm," Y/N nods, as Jeongin helps her sip from the water bottle.

"Ah that's not good," Hyunjin shakes his head, frowning.

"Here, come on, let's get you relaxed somewhere else," Changbin helps her stand, yet as her body becomes upright she stumbles, Lee Know helping to support her balance.

Y/N suddenly tears up, feeling scared about how she was feeling. It was all too overwhelming, and everything felt too hot.

"C-can't feel my arms," Y/N whimpered as tears fell down her cheeks, the boys murmuring amongst themselves worriedly.

"You can't feel your arms?" Felix asked, a scared look on his face, and that made Y/N feel worse, she didn't want the boys to be stressed out for her sake.

"I'm sorry, I..." Y/N trailed off, still panting as she was guided back to her chair, the boys deciding it was for the better for her to rest for now where she was, instead of moving her somewhere else.

"You're okay. Everything is going to be ok, sweetheart, we've got you, yeah?" Chan hushed her soothingly, Han rubbing her back in small circles.

"Should we call a medic?" Jeongin asked, eyes wide with uneasiness.

"Yes, good idea, Innie," Lee Know nodded at him, as they both went to look for some help.

"Y/N, you're ok, you're going to be ok," Hyunjin quietly comforted her, a light grip on her hand as he knelt down beside her.

Y/N groaned again from her headache getting worse.

"Where are those medics?" Changbin asked, looking around frustratedly with his hands on his hips, wondering what was taking so long.

"Don't... worry... don't waste... on me..." Y/N could barely get her words out, especially as a wave of nausea overcome her.

"Yah, it's not a waste, you're clearly not well right now Y/N," Han looked sullen, now fanning her face with a piece of paper he had found.

"S-sorry... ugh, feel... sick," she mumbled dizzily, slumped in the chair.

"You feel sick?" Hyunjin worried.

"I'm gonna... ugh," Y/N, with all her willpower, lifted herself out of the chair, yet it wasn't enough to keep her standing as she collapsed to her knees on the ground and threw up whatever was in her system. The boys were unable to catch her and yelled out as she fell.

"Y/N! Shit!" Changbin held her against him.

"Where are the medics?!" Chan yelled angrily, stress consuming him as their maknae was on the ground.

"Ah, ugh, I'm, ah I'm sorry," Y/N whimpered, tears running down her face from her own panic and the feeling of throwing up.

"You don't have to be sorry, it's ok, just take a deep breath," Han held her hair back, looking around at the boys with his eyes shining with his own tears as he feared she wouldn't be ok.

Y/N threw up again, gasping for breath.

"Is that all of it?" Hyunjin whispered from beside them, Y/N tearily nodding as she slumped back in Changbin's arms, feeling dazed.

Lee Know and Jeongin suddenly rushed over with the medics, both of them seeming angry.

"Finally! Where were they?!" Chan asked them, sighing disappointedly.

"Packing up, they were ready to go even though we only just finished performing," Lee Know gritted his teeth as the medics lifted Y/N onto a stretcher and took her through to a medical room, much cooler with air conditioning blasting through the room.

They held a wet cloth against her forehead and against her burns to try and lower her body temperature. The boys couldn't do anything but wait anxiously as they saw their youngest laying down and getting treated.

"Her temperature is dropping, that's a good sign," the medic said out loud to the boys.

Half an hour had passed and Y/N was now more aware of her surroundings, the medics clearing that she could head back to the hotel with the boys, telling them that if her condition worsens again that they need to call an ambulance immediately.

"I'm sorry," Y/N sleepily muttered as they helped her into the company cars.

"Don't apologise, we were more concerned about you," Seungmin informed her, an arm wrapped around her waist as he and Hyunjin guided her into the back of the car.

"That's why I feel bad," Y/N bit her lip.

"It's ok, you can rest now, don't worry about it ok? I know it's easier said than done but we'll make sure you're ok, and we're doing that because we care about you, yeah?" Chan said from the front seat.

"Ok, ok," she yawned, head leaning against Hyunjin's shoulder.

Once they arrived back at the hotel they didn't let her stay in her own room, as she instead was looked after by Lee Know and Jeongin in another, the two of them making sure she was relaxed and not too hot as they kept the air conditioning on. It may have felt a bit cold for them at one point but they didn't mind, they'd do anything for her. All of the boys would.

tagged: @skz-streamer @oo-li

#skz #stray kids #stray kids x reader #skz angst #skz fluff #skz x reader #straykids imagines #skz fic #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #skz 9th member #skz ninth imagines #skz ninth #skz ninth member imagines #skz ninth member #stray kids ninth #stray kids ninth member #stray kids 9th member

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vivalabunbun · 1 year

Text

Sweet Sweet Nothings

Summary: The sweet lull of normalcy in an unconventional marriage

Word Count: 7K

Tags: Alhaitham x Fem! Reader, Fluff, this is just pure fluff, Smut, NFSW, MDNI, Omegaverse AU, A/B/O relationships, Modern AU, Alpha! Alhaitham, Beta! Reader, breeding, biting, established relationship, TW: Very vague mentions of gender dysphoria (of your secondary gender), TW: pregnancy and birth, Protective! Alhaitham, Jealous! Alhaitham

Authors Note: This isn’t much of a story, think of it as a collection of sweet nothings and domestic life with Alhaitham and the Sumeru cast after this. I just felt like I had to give them fluff after that slow burn. Enjoy!

Teal-orange eyes snapped towards the ticking clock on his oak desk, the time read 5 pm. Alhaitham’s duties were over for the day, now he had more pressing matters to attend to. Swift hands gathered up the papers scattered across the dark wood, stacking them into a neat pile before his body pushed against his plush seat. The golden glint of the ring on his finger only spurred him on to quickly exit his office.

“Hey! Alhaitham are you leaving work now? Great, how about we grab some drinks with-”

“No. I’m busy.” He bluntly dismissed his blond senior.

A firm hand snatched up his blazer that had been thrown across the back of his seat, the other flicked off the desk lamp.

“Oi! Your senior is inviting you to a-”

“If you have a request you need approved then please leave it on my desk, I’ll look over it once I return back to the office on Monday.” Alhaitham skirted past the blond’s still frame at the doorway, paying no mind to the disgruntled scrunch on Kaveh’s face. His mind was focused on more pressing matters.

–

“And then the brat just WALKS past me as if I were some dust on the ground! Could you believe that?” Kaveh thumps his glass back onto the tavern table, a small splash of wine lapped over the side.

Tighnari took another big swig from this glass, his ears weren’t drunk enough to handle the tumultuous complaining of the blond. Cyno was only half-heartedly listening, ruby eyes trained on the brand-new deck of cards he had spent the week building in his hands.

Yes, it is just a typical Friday afternoon. Colleagues gathered at Lambad’s Tavern, congregating at an outdoor table and enjoying the nice wine and early Spring air. Although more often than not, there would only be three seats filled instead of four.

“Just what is so important that they trifle over common courtesy? In the world of job opportunities, networking and connections are a critical part of getting higher up the chain. Just how did that shrewd man get that promotion?” Kaveh’s face already had the tall tale signs of a drunken glow.

“Well, it’s not really that out of character for him. People have always found his actions grating, but his efficiency at his work can’t be denied.” Tighnari rested his head on his hand.

“There’s been a change in the head secretary lately.” Cyno asserted, eyes now trained somewhere else.

“Oh? How so? He’s the same old crude man.” Kaveh dismissed.

Cyno motioned with his eyes at a sight just behind the two other men. Two confused heads turned to follow his gaze. Nearly choking on their drinks at the scene they were now witnessing.

There stood Alhaitham’s towering figure walking hand in hand with yours, bags filled with books and miscellaneous trinkets carried in his other. What made the men uncomfortable was the uncanny softness dawned on the stoic secretary’s face, as his teal eyes focused on you.

His Beta wife was pressing her body against his arm as she spoke close to his ear, pointing at random stalls and vendors. Alhaitham leaned down to hear you through the chattering crowd, making sure to maneuver your bodies through the bustling streets.

The three men didn’t know what to make of the scene in front of them as the couple walked out of sight, still holding each other close. Kaveh wonders if the wine being served today was stronger than usual. However, the three unwed men now got their answer to Alhaitham’s sudden full schedule.

The table of bachelors called for more wine. Maybe to cleanse their palette of the sour taste of jealousy.

–

“Have you seen Alhaitham today? I’ve been trying to hand him this paperwork since Friday.” Kaveh approached the head lawyer at the water cooler, the weekend was now over and it was now Monday, and the secretary was nowhere to be seen.

“Hm? The head secretary applied to use his paid vacation time off. It was approved last Friday.” Cyno took a sip from the paper cup.

“Huh?” The papers fluttered out of the architect’s slack hands, jaw agape.

His junior truly was trying to annoy him to death. That conniving bastard Alhaitham.

Fontaine was very different from Sumeru, with different types of foods, shops, and culture. It was quite exciting the first week of your late honeymoon to duck into every shop along the city streets. You discovered that your husband was fluent in the language, anything you pointed at he would translate for you without hesitation. However, the wonder of sightseeing faded within just a few days, like the true homebodies you were, there was a silent agreement to spend the rest of the time in the grand honeymoon suite.

The hotel Alhaitham booked was the most luxurious one Fontaine had to offer. You will have to blame this decision on the generous amount of financial freedom granted by a pharmaceutical payout. It was only fair in Alhaitham’s mind, you worked very hard during the rut brought on by faulty inhibitors. Hard work should be rewarded, so he decides you should be indulged with the best room service, fancy baths, and thousand-count silk sheets.

How you spent your time in the suite was really no different than how you would spend it in Sumeru. Alhaitham was laying down on the silk sheets, back slightly propped up by down feather-filled pillows, unwinding with a book in his hand.

“Ah…Ah!... Ah… Making your wife do all the work while on vacation? You’re such a terrible husband, Haitham.” You stilled your hips, hands propping yourself up along his toned body.

“Mm? You were really enjoying yourself, I didn’t want to interrupt.” There was a teasing tilt in his voice, teal eyes never looking away from the sentences printed as his other hand rubbed circles into your hip.

From this angle he reached deeper than usual, making you feel so much fuller. Your walls were clenching down, trembling with pleasure from the stretch and thick tip poking that one spongey spot. A while ago you had abandoned your book in favor of bouncing up and down on your husband’s lap. It was your late honeymoon, after all, there was almost five years' worth of time to make up for.

You knew your husband was just teasing you, but your lips couldn’t stop a pout from forming. You shifted a bit more on top of his god-like physique, pressing his tip deeper against that sweet little spot deep inside. Wandering hands made their way to grope at his plush pectorals followed by your pouting face, eyes trained on the book your husband was so engrossed by.

“Hmph…” A displeased huff left your lips, it was absolutely adorable to him.

“Is something the matter?” The corner of his lip was upturned just the slightest bit.

“It’s our honeymoon and yet my husband is already having an affair with a book.” You playfully sulked into his chest.

“My, I never knew my wife was the jealous type.” Finally, he snapped the book closed, playful eyes gazing into yours.

“I guess you learned something new then.” You gently confiscated the book from his hand, placing it farther away on the large bed.

Alhaitham gave a hum of acknowledgment, both hands now firmly seizing the sides of your waist. Steadying your body before following it up with a solid snap of his hips. You pressed your face harder against his chest, muffling the moan that was suddenly forced out of you.

“Isn’t this what you wanted? Why are you so quiet now?” His hips set a rhythm, slow and deep.

His thick length dragged along your slick walls in all the right ways, you could feel every inch outlined inside you. Each roll of his hips gently lifted your body up before accompanying it back down. Your mouth fell open, breathing out soft moans against his warm skin. The smell of lust hung heavy in the air of the spacious room. But you wanted more, this slow lovemaking couldn’t satisfy the greed deep within.

“Mmm… More…”

“More?” His pace escalates just the slightest bit.

The sloppy sounds of your connecting bodies were louder now, with each in and out of your slick cunt like purrs of pleasure. He was hitting that spot that brings shooting pleasure throughout your nerves. Still, maybe it's because your expectations have been set a bit high from your first taste, but your greed wanted more.

“More~” You breathed out, face now pressed into the crook of his neck.

“Mmm, I think I know what my lovely wife wants.” A hand supports the back of your head, smoothing out the hair.

Swiftly you got turned under him, his board frame now looming above, that handsome smirk on his face. He rested your head gently on the dawn pillows, as your arms wrapped around his neck pulling him down closer to you. The combination of his weight on top of you and how heavy he felt inside your sobbing cunt sent shivers up your spine. Yes, this is what you wanted.

Leaving the crook of his neck, your lips chased after his. Alhaitham couldn’t help but let out a small huff, you were quite needy today. His lips captured yours in a deep kiss, shallowing all your noises. He shall spoil you, it was your honeymoon after all.

In this position, he had much better footing and grasp on your waist. Meaning the strength and pace of his hips slamming into yours increased to the rhythm you desired. Moans were flowing out like water from your mouth, eyes teary with lust. The claps of your bodies echo through the room, he would pull out to the tip then slam back in. Just the way you liked it.

Teal eyes observed your loose face, the rolling back of your eyes signaling that the knot was about to come undone. But before he lets you reach cloud nine, you have to answer a question that he’s been pondering.

“Would you rather have consistent pleasure spread evenly throughout the year… or four days of nonstop, mind-melting pleasure then nothing for the rest?” Alhaitham asked right up against your ear, making your skin bristle.

You felt his hips roll back to their slow methodical pace. Oh, he wasn’t going to let you taste sweet release until you paid the toll of his curiosity. Really, your husband can be so mean sometimes. You let out a small whine, trying to roll your hips into his but his firm hold prevented such action.

“Answer the question, sweetheart.” Alhaitham continued to egg you on, clearly enjoying your displeased whines.

“Why can’t I have both?” You muttered close to his own ears, tightening your embrace around him to offset the embarrassment creeping up on you.

At your response his hips stilled, stoic teal eyes gazing at you as you looked away. You didn’t see the smirk that returned to his features.

“Goodness, my wife is insatiable.” He dragged his length out fully.

Before you could even let out another whine at the loss, he returned it fully inside of you. Filling out your unexpecting walls again pounding against that spongey patch, making your back arch up and toes curl.

“AH!” Your body was pressed impossibly close to his.

“I wonder if I should keep you at home, confined to the bedroom for your sake.” His hot breath ghosted over your ear.

He was pistoning in and out now, fat tip abusing your sweet spot just the way you wanted it. Your walls were clenching around his girth just like how your arms were holding onto him to ground your sanity. The searing white flashes of pleasure were shooting up through your nerves, the edge was approaching fast. The filthy fantasy Alhaitham was painting in your mind only served to quicken the process.

“All you have to do is be a good wife, and welcome me home with open legs. How about that?” Alhaitham pressed sweet kisses against your neck, a far cry from the filth that was leaving his tongue.

You felt his teeth brush against the side of your neck before they clamped down. That was what unraveled the knot inside you. Your ankles hooked together as your hips pushed closer to his. Back arching almost painfully, bodying trembling and eyes rolling back. Alhaitham let out a small hiss at the tightness of your walls contracting. He wasn’t going to last long if you continued to be this impossibly tight.

He could tell from the way your eyes were still seeing the back of your head you were still in the midst of your orgasm. This meant that Alhaitham was free to chase after his own release now. So he does. His length continues to pound against your quivering walls, pushing through the tight clenches. The extra gush of slick helped to accelerate his movements further. Sloppy slapping of skin against skin, he could feel that his tip was probably red and swollen from his calculated delayed release.

Pressing his pulsing tip right up against your cervix, the tension inside him finally snapped. Flooding your walls with thick, warm release. Your body instantly responded, walls beginning to twitch and convulse more, trying to milk every last drop. Alhaitham panted against your neck, sucking on the soft skin from time to time as he held your body close.

“Mmm… Don’t mark up my neck. I brought all these pretty dresses to wear and now I can’t wear anything but turtle necks.” Your fingers tussled through his messy ash locks. It seems like you’ve returned from cloud nine.

“You can just wear them in the room.” He pressed another kiss to your neck.

Before you could voice your complaints your husband buries your face into the crook of his neck, a silent invitation. Who were you to reject? The sensation of your teeth clamping down onto his smooth skin, leaving deep indentations seems to appease his primal urges noted by the low growl that rumbles in his chest.

“Would you like to take a bath, habibti?” Gentle finger caressed your face.

You hummed in confirmation, nuzzling into his touch more. The calm, sweet lull of intimacy washed over the room. Passion satisfied, for now at least.

“You smell.” Dehya scrunched up her nose.

You gave a deadpan stare at your Alpha friend beside you. You recently returned from your trip to Fontaine, meeting up with your friends to show them the gifts you had brought back.

The weather wasn’t that hot today so you definitely weren’t sweating, and your outfit was also fresh from the clothesline. You even took a quick shower before you went to the agreed-upon cafe. You brought your arm up to your nose for a quick sniff, nothing smelled particularly off.

“I smell normal.” You raised an eyebrow at her.

“No, you smell like you just rolled around in the forest.” She retorted.

Now you were confused, glancing at Candace and Nilou. Wait, why does it look like the two were trying to hold back their laughter? What is going on? You just wanted to give them their souvenirs.

“What Dehya is trying to say is… it seems like you’ve gotten closer to your husband.” Candace rested her elbows on the table as she leaned in.

Oh. They meant that. A scarlet flush instantly engulfed your cheeks, a silent admission of the truth. All at once you saw the gleam in your friends’ eyes, and they started hounding you for the details.

The tea served at the cafe was always brewed to perfection and the leaves were of the highest quality. However, your friends were much more interested in the new development of your marriage.

–

You were drained. You loved your friends, you really do. But spilling the tame details of the budding romance between you and your husband with burning cheeks sure depleted your battery. In a way, they deserved to know, supporting you for over five years throughout the murkier times.

At the moment, you were curled up on the couch against your husband’s chest. Fingers fiddling with the ring that matched yours resting on his finger, as his attention was trained on the book in his other hand. It wasn’t time for your ritual quiet reading session, so you felt it was appropriate to quietly enjoy some skinship. Alhaitham didn’t seem to mind.

“Haitham.” You began.

“Mm?”

“What is your scent like?” You continued to fiddle with his wedding ring.

“According to your friends, a tree.” His deep voice replied, never once looking up.

“Mmm.” Your lips pressed into a line, still toying with the gold band.

You had that look on your face, Alhaitham notes. Demons don’t disappear so easily, even at the start of a new chapter, they will continue to cling to your shadow. If he could, Alhaitham would strangle those devils with his own bare hands. But he couldn’t. So instead, he shall always be there to pull you out from the ice-cold water back to the warm shore.

He flips the book over, placing it faced down on the arm of the couch. His full attention was now on you as he tenderly grasped your hand, pulling you closer. He pressed his nose against your neck, senses searching through the thick layer of opulent woodiness.

The faint sweet hints of padisarah pudding mixed with the bath products and laundry detergent you shared were guarded by that layer. The scent that he recognizes as yours, the scent he shares with you.

“I smell like you. That is the only scent I will recognize as mine.” His teal eyes peered up at you.

You were silent for a moment, hand halting but still grasping the ring.

“Pfft. Have you been reading my old novels again?” You couldn’t suppress the small laugh and smile.

“Did you want me to?”

“No.”

You intertwined your fingers with his, rings clinking together, a physical show of a bond.

Alhaitham rested his head in the crook of your neck, continuing to breathe in your essence. The scent of you always seems to lull him into a drowsy state of comfort. Yet, it wasn’t heavy nor did it cloud his thoughts, so he could always think clearly of you. Yes, this is the scent he adores.

“Have you been doing something to make my Alpha and Omega coworkers avoid me?”

“...”

“What a weird Alpha you are.” You rubbed your cheek against your husband's resting face.

You’ve been sluggish lately, Alhaitham observed. More often than not, he found himself carrying your sleeping frame back to bed after you fell asleep curled up on the sofa. Book in your limp hands. Your alarm would also be ringing longer than usual, you used to be able to turn it off by the first ring so as to not disturb him from his slumber. You knew he was a light sleeper.

As he took a bite of the dinner you had just cooked he notes the blander taste. It was your usual style to throw in as many spices as you pleased. It was the start of flu season, and Alhaitham noted the cough that’s been going around in his office. However, he had a different hypothesis he wanted to share with you tonight. He watched as you chewed then shallowed.

“Habibti, have you taken a pregnancy test lately?” His voice was calm, tone stable.

Your fork clattered against your plate as you stared at him starstruck, eyes wide and mouth agape. This was why he waited, it wouldn’t be good to have food go down the wrong pipe. He maintained a neutral expression, staring into your eyes to read the emotions that were running rampant behind them.

“N-no… but…” A furrow formed between your brow as you brought a hand up your mouth. A habit of yours when you were deep in thought.

The two of you were careful. Pills are taken at specific times. Morning after teas were always in stock around the house, either he brews it for you right after a moment of passion or you would drink it in the morning. However, Alhaitham wasn’t startled. He understands that even with birth control there was always a risk.

Dinner was swiftly finished, dishes piled in the sink for later, there were more pressing matters to attend to. You were currently in the bathroom with the pregnancy test he had picked up on his way home from work. Alhaitham was leaning his back on the wall beside the bathroom door. He was trying to calculate when you last had your time of the month, or when exactly you began to behave differently.

The singing hinges of the bathroom door pulled him out of his thoughts. You had that look on your face again. Alhaitham didn’t even need to look at the test in your hands to know the results, two red lines. From how frozen your stance was in the door frame, he already knew what thoughts were running through your mind.

Children were never planned nor discussed, at the beginning the two of you were much more focused on your careers and enjoying your free time. That is to say, you greatly enjoyed the double income and no kids life. However, there was now a fork in the road. The hands holding the test were now trembling. Alhaitham quickly brought you into a tender embrace, to silence the wild thoughts before they begin to torment you.

“Whatever your decision may be, I will support it unconditionally. Take your time.” Rubbing a small circle into your back.

You were silent but your arms wrapped around his torso, resting your head against his shoulder. Quiet reading time was a bit more quiet than usual tonight.

–

It was now a Saturday night, Alhaitham had already situated himself on his spot on the couch. There was already a book in his hands, but he didn’t open it, he was waiting for you. You usually didn’t take this long in the shower, he was beginning to wonder if he should go knock on the door. But there was no need, soon the soft thumps of your steps were heard coming down the hall.

Contrary to the usual, you make a b-line straight into his lap, curling up against his board frame. He didn’t say anything, supporting you with an arm and holding you closer.

“I want to keep the baby.” You spoke softly against his neck.

Alhaitham closed his eyes, mind going deep into thought. There was more than enough money saved up to support a child. Sumeru has free good quality health care, a great daycare program, and the best education system. The nation offers a generous tax deduction for families with children. There were enough rooms in the house that one could be turned into a nursery, it would be troublesome to have to babyproof everything and rearrange the furniture.

Ah, the two of you will have to sacrifice your free time and sleep to take care of a needy newborn. However… He opened his eyes.

“Then we should start making preparations for our new addition.”

If it’s with you, Alhaitham is more than willing to sacrifice those luxuries and needs.

Alhaitham had to be more observant, the changes to your body and hormones made it so you were much more sensitive to your surroundings. Foods that were too strong in scent had to be dialed back or not cooked in the house. He also took care to clear the floor of any stacks of books lest your foot knocks into them.

The worst part of it was probably how the pregnancy was disrupting your sleep. Your body needs it, yet the growing bump and overactive hormones made it hard for you to find a position that welcomed the sweet embrace of sleep. Often tossing and turning, Alhaitham would place a pillow under your belly which seemed to help a bit.

Then came morning sickness, Alhaitham is adamant that your child be thankful for all the suffering you were enduring to give life to them.

The ashen-haired Alpha had been extra careful with his inhibitors as well, making sure each dose was measured to the line and constantly checking the dates printed on the bottles. Still, the clawing of his instincts only grew stronger as his teal eyes observe your bump growing day by day. You were working so hard to carry the child, he needed to do something to make you relax and comfortable.

–

Currently, your bed has been buried under a mountain of quilts and plush pillows. You had your hands on your hips as your eyes surveyed the messy state of the bed you had just made a few hours earlier. You folded and pack those quilts away weeks ago, why were they back out?

“Haitham, why can’t I see our own bed?”

“There’s no cause for concern. Your body must be tired, go take a rest.” A gentle large hand rested on your lower back, encouraging you towards the heavenly pile.

That sentiment from seven years ago still rings true to this day. Your husband is weird. Still, there was a small smile on your face, what a silly sweet weirdo he is. The soft wafts of fresh linen encapsulated your senses, layers upon layers of fabric cushioning your achy joints and growing belly. Gentle fingers combed their way through your hair, making your eyelids grow heavy.

Were these inherited instincts or learned gestures from old light novels? Oh well, the answer is irrelevant.

One Saturday afternoon you were rudely awakened by the maddening repetition of thumping. You were now well into your second trimester, the bump on your belly growing steadily day by day, which only meant your sleep schedule only got worse. All your senses have been going into overdrive lately, every bump in the night making your eyes snap open. You groggily rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, begrudgingly rousing your sluggish body from the haven of pillows and blankets.

By this point, you and Alhaitham had announced to friends and family about your pregnancy, there were many tears of excitement shed that day. Followed by a steady stream of boxes and gifts placed into your or your husband's hands. These items ranged from teas to help with morning sickness to long loose maternity gowns.

At first, you raised an eyebrow at the shapeless dresses your mother had gifted to you. Stating that they made you look like a lost ghost. However, now with your baby bump, the soft loose fabric felt divine against your sensitive skin. Carefully, pushing off the mattress you took your time gaining your balance. Moving has become troublesome because of your now shifted center of gravity.

Steadying yourself with a hand on the hallway wall you waddled toward the source of the commotion. As you grew closer to the room across the guest room, an extra space that was utilized as a small side library the barrage of noises stung your ears more. You felt irritation creeping up on you.

Grasping your hand on the door frame you peered inside to see a head of blonde hair. Oh. It’s Kaveh. That explains the noise.

You quietly observed the back of the unaware man as he continued to hammer furniture together. Your husband had told you earlier in the week that Kaveh would be coming over to help set up the nursery. He mentioned something about the blond having to pay off an old debt.

Oh well, it saves you and Alhaitham the trouble of rearranging the furniture.

“Ugh, that bastard has not changed a single bit. Who would choose such an ugly bassinet? His poor child will be welcomed into the world surrounded by ugly furniture.”

Your lips pressed into a firm line. You had chosen the bassinet when out shopping with your husband. You bought it with your own money too. You thought it was quite cute… It’s cute, right? You waddled off to find your husband.

“Alhaitham…” Tighnri stood just to the left of the glass door of the small cafe, your favorite cafe.

Your husband was exiting the door, a small chime from the bell hanging above his head announcing his departure. A brown take-out bag, that contained the padisarah pudding you have been craving for the fourth time this week, clutched firmly in his hand. Alhaitham greeted his fellow colleague with a nod of acknowledgment.

“I know your wife is pregnant. However, food should be in moderation. Especially sweets. You should know that during pregnancy the change in hormones makes it harder for the body to control its levels of-”

The ashen-haired man raised one hand, signaling for the other to halt their lecture.

“I acknowledge your expertise and advice. However, time is precious and to save both of ours, I invite you to take this debate up with my wife. To warn you beforehand, you will lose.”

Tighnari let out a huff of exasperation, steps heading in the direction of your shared home with Alhaitham. Surely you were more reasonable than your Alpha husband at the moment. Tighnari knew it was in their primal instincts to pamper their mates, caving into any demand no matter how unreasonable or troublesome.

The head secretary has always been a rather level-headed individual in his eyes, sometimes to a fault, so it must just be his instincts influencing his actions. Tignari even heard from a certain blond that the ashen-haired man had given him the deadliest glare because the architect had critiqued your taste in home decor.

“It’s normal for people to have cravings during their pregnancies, and for the most part, it’s harmless. However, there is a whole misconception about the saying ‘eating for two’. In truth, you only need about an extra glass of milk and an extra pita pocket a day. You are feeding a small-”

Alhaitham stared ahead at the path in front of him, doing his best to tune out the ramblings of the shorter man walking beside him. He had one purpose, and that was to deliver your padisarah pudding to you.

–

Tighnari was now walking in the direction of his own home, spirit shaking a bit. Like always, Alhaitham’s prediction was flawless. He lost. The defiant blank gaze you gave him at the doorway of your house was enough to make the ebony-haired Alpha stop his clearly unsolicited advice. In the end, you got your pudding.

“That is all I have to report. Now that you have this knowledge, I trust that you will be able to decide if this proposition is fair or not. Here are the files for you to look through.” The ivory-haired Alpha placed the stack of papers on the smooth desk.

“Understood. Thank you for the report, Cyno.” Alhaitham gathered the paperwork into his hands, beginning to skim through the contents.

His teal-orange eyes soon left the crisp papers, peering at his colleague with an inquisitive glance. It wasn’t like the head lawyer to remain in his office after he finished delivering his information.

“Is there any more you would like to discuss?”

“Yes, I have prepared a gift for your child.” Cyno reached into his blazer pocket.

Alhaitham hid his sigh. Your home was already littered with so many gifts and baby items, it was troublesome keeping the floors clear of any potential tripping hazards. You were now in your third trimester, slow steps more focused on your balance and the ache in your lower back than paying attention to the floor.

Your husband wonders if he should have waited until he applied for maternity leave to tell his closest colleagues about your pregnancy.

“Here.” Cyno handed him an engraved box.

Was this a TCG card case? Alhaitham’s unreadable eyes shifted between the case and the head lawyer’s eager eyes. Really, he should’ve expected this, he is already well aware of the tan Alpha’s obsession with the card game.

“Thank you.” Your husband took the gift from the awaiting hand.

“I custom-made the deck to be as beginner friendly as possible. Even still, these cards are staples in the game so this deck will be solid regardless of the changing meta. I made sure to have every card laminated as young children don’t know restraint. The box is also custom-made, it is made from solid wood but any sharp edges have been rounded out.”

“You didn’t have to go through so much unnecessary trouble.” Alhaitham wishes that Cyno didn’t.

“Since most gifts have been either for your wife or for the child, I have prepared a gift for you as well.” Cyno reached into his inner coat pocket.

This was unexpected. Your husband observed the tan man pull out a small journal. Stationary? You had already gifted Alhaitham a lifetime supply, but they were for only very important situations. So this could be a welcomed addition.

“I wrote down some of my best jokes for you to tell.”

Nevermind. Alhaitham didn’t even want to reach for the small notebook. Cyno places it on top of the desk.

“It’s unnecessary.”

“It will help pass the time while entertaining your child. Your wife has been pregnant for a while now, it must feel like an maternity.”

“...”

“Did you not get it? It’s because ‘maternity’ sounds like ‘eternity’ and-”

“I am very busy, head lawyer. Please excuse yourself from my office.”

Alhaitham was aware of the concept of ‘pregnancy glow’ from the anatomical journals he read some time ago. However, seeing it in person was much different from what the book had described. Another example of how learning purely from books is not enough.

You were radiant, features softer and skin glowing. The aura around you has also been much gentler, likely attributed to your constant drowsiness and lack of stress from work as you were now on maternity leave. More often than not, Alhaitham finds it hard to keep his hands off of you.

Resting an open hand on your round belly, feeling the subtle shifts of your child as he reads. Hugging you from behind as you cook, it’s to support the baby he reasons. He offers his chest as a pillow whenever sleep calls for you regardless if it was on the couch, you needed your rest.

However, there’s a caveat: others can’t seem to keep their hands off you either.

“Oh! What a strong kick! I think they have real potential for dance.” Nilou exclaimed as she felt your belly.

“Haha, what a meddlesome kid already. Kicking your poor mommy.” Dehya also had one hand resting a top.

“It’s uncomfortable, yes, but it’s a good sign that they’re healthy and strong.” You let out a small sigh.

“Here, have another pillow to support you” Candace placed the soft cushion behind your back, relieving some of the pressure.

“Thank you, Candace. Even though I’m going to become a mother soon, it seems you’ll always be the mom of our group.” You giggled, giving your friends a wide smile.

“Oh, you flatter me too much.” Candace chuckled, joining the rest in feeling your round bump.

Alhaitham sat in your usual spot on the adjacent sofa, trying to read his book. However, his teal eyes couldn’t help but peer over at the hands that were plastered all over your belly. Although his gaze remained neutral, his lips were slightly pressed into a line. Their hands didn’t need to linger for that long he surmises.

–

“Have a safe trip back!” You bid your friends goodbye, it was nice to have visitors when you couldn’t leave the house easily.

Alhaitham closes the front door after their figures disappeared into the distance, offering his muscular arm to support you. You gladly accepted, as your feet and joints sang with relief as pressure was shifted off of them. Slowly strolling down the hall back to the living room.

Alhaitham presses a soft kiss against your temple, a clever diversion from his true intentions. He couldn’t help the frown that formed on his lips or the scrunch of his nose. Your friends had drenched you in their scent, overpowering your subtle fragrance. Tsk, this is why others should keep their hands to themselves.

“Let's take a shower. Of course, I’ll assist you.”

“Mm? Haitham, it’s pretty early. We haven’t even had dinner.”

“I’ll help you wash your hair as well.”

“Haitham-”

“I’ll massage your shoulders and feet afterward.”

“... Fine… remember to use the lotion as well.”

“Of course.”

There was no reason to be nervous even as your due date grew closer and closer. A room at the Bimarstan has already been reserved. He had already prepared a hospital bag with extra clothes, blankets, and toiletries. Alhaitham also packed some books in there was well. However, as you began to count down the days, it’s hard not to notice the anticipation in the air. You were very much ready to meet your child and to finally not be pregnant anymore.

“Do you think the child will be more like you or me?” You turned to face your husband as he lay in bed.

“It doesn’t matter. As long as they’re healthy.” Alhaitham tucks a quilt from the nest up to your chin.

“Oh? I think that if our child looks like you but has my personality, they’d be quite popular.” You pondered out loud.

“Mm.” Alhaitham pulls you closer to him from behind, resting his chin atop your head.

“Then if they resemble you, it's best that they have my personality. Lest our peaceful lives will be disrupted by a constant stream of suitors at the door.” He entertains your musing.

Your soft giggle jingles through the air as you stroked your belly, his hands soon join yours. A comfortable silence encapsulated the two of you, his soft caresses lulling your heavy lids closed. This was the sweet calm lull of normalcy, and you both were satisfied.

Alhaitham had closed his eyes, only for them to snap open with the sudden jolt of your body. Did the baby kick again? They sure are disruptive, he can already feel the long sleepless nights to come. However, there were still a few days to stock up on as much rest as possible.

“Haitham, I think my water broke.”

Nevermind.

–

You were holding onto his hand with an iron-clad grip, crushing his fingers together. However, he knew this was barely scratching the surface of the discomfort you were currently experiencing. If he could, Alhaitham would bare all your pain himself.

However, he couldn’t so he’ll sit beside you in the Bimarstan, brushing the hair out of your sweat-socked face and whispering sweet nothings to encourage your efforts. You’ve been in labor now for about four hours. Alhaitham has decided that the first thing your child learns to write will be a thank you letter addressed to you.

You were trying to keep your breathing as stable as possible, practicing the technique the midwife taught you. Put the pain of the contractions always broke your streak, making you have to start from the beginning to try and steady your breath. The midwives and doctors were encouraging you to push as hard as you could. You already were, but you took a deep breath and then held onto it. Giving it your all.

“WWAAHHHHH!”

A loud, piercing, yet beautiful cry echoed off the walls.

“It's a boy!” The doctors announced.

“He’s got quite the set of lungs.” You giggled, tears still pooling at the corners of your eyes. Cradling your newborn.

Alhaitham only let out a gentle hum, resting his head on your shoulder as he gazes at his son. Eyes as soft as the little one’s plump cheeks. It was quite a riveting experience, how can one fall in love with a little stranger so quickly?

“No more full nights rest for us when we return home, huh.” You rested your head on top of his ashen hair, smiling as you continued to stare at your little bundle.

Your husband lets out a soft mixture of a hum and a chuckle. He’s already prepared himself to sacrifice sleep in order to nurture this little bond created between the two of you.

To your surprise and his great delight, your child sleeps through the nights well. A little too well. You had been released from the Bimarstan just a few days ago, the doctors all said your child was healthy. However, you couldn’t help but stare at him as if you were in a trance.

“Come to bed, your body needs the rest to heal.” His warm touch grasped the sides of your shoulders, as Alhaitham pressed his face into your neck. Trying to lure you back.

“Yes, I know but… just a little while longer.” You reached a hand up to tussle through his soft locks.

Your eyes never stopped observing the small ups and downs of your little bundle of joy as he slept. Well, the face he made earlier when you had woken him up for his regular feedings sure wasn’t one of joy. He’s just like his father, grumpy when disturbed from the sweet embrace of sleep. But he needed to feed every three hours if he was to grow up healthily.

“He’s quite a lot like you. A deep sleeper.”

“Oh? I think he’s quite like you, Haitham. You should’ve seen the mean mug he gave me.”

“I never scowl at you.”

“Yes, but you’re grumpy when woken up.”

“Hmph.” Your husband buries his face deeper into your nape. Teal eyes never breaking their gaze from the child you’ve gifted him.

The air was quiet, yet warm and sweet. It was well past your preferred bedtime, but strangely not a single muscle felt tired as two pairs of eyes continued to study the small moments of his chest.

“Should we head to bed now, Haitham?”

“Mm, perhaps a few more minutes wouldn’t make a drastic difference.”

Fin~

#alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x y/n #al-haitham x you #alhaitham headcanons #alhaitham x you #alhaitham smut #alhaitham scenarios #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin x you #genshin omegaverse #genshin smut #alhaitham fluff #vivalabunbunfics #alhaitham fanfic #al haitham x you #alhaitham x yn #alhaitham imagines

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dcxdpdabbles · 7 months

Text

Danny and the Fan Blog part 2

Danny is trying to get a picture from the Gotham Bridge of its sister city, Bludhaven. He has dropped his invisibly, sure that being on the edge of a dangerous out-of-the-way ledge will keep unwanted mugging away.

He had flown down to the bottom metal part of the arch right smack in the middle- still far from the water but lower than where the cars and people were.

He sinks to his knees, hoping the bridge's light can get his shadow against the waves for an epic piece. Danny aims his lens, adjusting the focus again, and then presses the button.

At the exact moment, he does, a boat out rushes from underneath the arch of the bridge, and a body flings itself off the bridge's edge above him. The person twists masterfully midair, landing on the boat's deck with a soft thump and not a wasted movement.

Danny's mouth drops open, watching the boot disappear into the horizon before scrambling to see the photo.

It's gorgeous.

The water is highlighted by the golden glow of the street lanterns, and they bounce off the sleek black boat, with the skyscrapers of Bludhaven painting the perfect drop back. But what ties the picture together is Red Robin mid-fall, half twisted and arms above his head that its hard to tell if hes a fallen angel or a rising one.

He's got a half smile on his face, black hair blowing in the wind and Danny breath catches.

It's the best picture he's ever taken.

He stares at the screen of his camera, wondering how he could have been so lucky to have captured the perfect moment. Danny won't even have to do too much editing. It's ready to be posted right now.

He was so excited to share it that Danny abandoned his place, turning invisible and flying back to his apartment. He arrives to find Jazz working on her homework on the kitchen table, but her hand rests on a ghost gun until he drops his powers and becomes invisible.

Her face lights up at once, and her hand lifts from her weapon. "Danny! How was the photos tonight?"

"Only got one." He admits, sprinting forward to show her, "But look at which one!"

He brings up the image from the memory card, displaying it proudly. Jazz mouth slacks. "Woah, Danny, that's amazing! He looks so good in it! How on earth did you manage to get this?"

"Luck, really." He grins, reaching for a plate with apple slices and peanut butter that Jazz likely set out for him. It is his favorite snake.. "I was at the right place at the right time."

"And where exactly was this place?" He winces at the tone, he knows she doesn't like him taking too many risks, but it's not like he's in any real danger. Even the Meta collars that canceled people's powers would never work on him. Danny is a ghost, and no one has the technology for that unless someone finally starts taking his parents seriously.

Vlad has been fine since Jazz convinced him to see a therapist. He is currently in the ghost zone at some mental hospital retreat that has been doing wonders for him. They visit whenever chance they get.

"I may have been under the Gotham Bridge."

"Trigate Bridge or Brown Bridge?"

"There is more then one bridge?"

"Danny," Jazz sighs. "There are four bridges."

Danny shrugs, taking a bit from his snack, and starts his laptop. He's sending the photo onto his blog from his camera, watching the photo download with anticipation. "I don't know Jazz. I ignore stuff like that."

"Well, maybe you should. You have yet to learn how important it is to pay attention to the things around you in this city. Danger is around every corner. Just this afternoon, someone tried to steal my phone!"

Danny's head jerks up. "They what?"

"I know! I was just minding my business reading a fascinating article on child development in the tablet era when some thug walked right up to me with a gun. I would have handled it trust me, his stance was pathetic at best, but Red Hood came to my rescue." Here Jazz's face reddness and Danny has a moment to wonder if he could take Red Hood in a fight. Maybe. He's sure he would win but it would be a close call.

He would do it, too, anything to keep no good punks away from his sister.

Jazz sees the face his making and rolls her eyes. "What? I'm allowed to drool over boys every once in a while. Just like you do."

"I do not droll!" Danny shouts offended.

Jazz gestures to the laptop screen, uploading the photo onto his blog. "Sure. And you just happen to stare at Red Robin's photos for the artistic application."

"I-I do! I took them!" Danny shutters, watching his sister's face break into a teasing smile. He feels his own lips pull upwards against his will and suddenly, they are laughing. It's strange, how at ease they both feel here.

They were never this carefree back at their parent's home. The realization makes Danny feel slightly guilty for noticing- because it wasn't like his parents didn't love him- but there was always tension at home. Even before the accident, he knows now that it wasn't healthy.

Jazz must have felt the change too, because before while she was racing towards adulthood- always strung so tight and nervous- she missed out on being a typical teen. Danny never had a chance to sit down with her and gush about boys, nor had she ever prioritized making friends.

Sure, Jazz was pretty, brilliant, and basically the pride of Casper High, but Danny never noticed she had no friends. She never hung out with people at the mall, she never got invited to go out, and she never texted funny memes to others back home.

In Amity, people knew of and respected her, but no one was close to Jazz. Maybe that's why she got so excited to be part of Team Phantom when she first found out.

Jazz Fenton may have been the intelligent sibling, but Danny Fenton was the social one, leaving her feeling crippling lonely while he had his two best friends.

He knows that now.

"Speaking about drolling over boys- how's Jason?" Danny teases just as Jazz's phone buzzes with a new message. The notification displays Jason's shy smile before Jazz yanks it protectively close to her face.

Jason Peter is someone Danny can approve of instead of that thug Red Hood. Jason and Jazz met at one of their classes at the beginning of the semester when Jazz was still unused to the city. She always went to class ten minutes before it started and read to pass the time instead of speaking to her college mates.

She had been reading Pride and Prejudice- one of the fancy covers kind Vlad had gotten her- and Jason had practically teleported to her table gushing about the artwork. Then, when he sat down, the two broke into a healthy debate about the characters.

Jazz admitted to him later that she was surprised by a man in a leather jacket with a white streak in his hair and multiple piercings in his ear having such in-depth character analysis of her beloved novel.

They've been hanging out ever since.

"He is fine, thank you." She huffs, typing a response to the text. Danny places his chin on his hand, smiling as her eyes soften. "He asked me to see a play this Friday. Or, well, he said he was going to one and wanted to know if I wanted to come along."

Danny perks up. "Like a date?"

"I don't know. Maybe?" Jazz nervously plays with her hair. "He made it sound like we were just hanging out. Do you think he meant it like a date?"

"It could be either way if he didn't clarify," Danny admits, then smiles to settle her sudden anxiety. She always doubted herself about spending time with people outside the family or Team Phantom. Doubts that were the result of her upbringing. "But why don't we go shopping tomorrow? Get you a nice dress, and I'll do your make-up. Once we're done, he'll wish it was a date!"

Jazz's smile may be wobbly, but it was there, and it was real. They chat more about the play and what she should wear. Danny forgoes any black, claiming it's too fancy for a first date, and trades ideas for her outfit.

Neither notices that the photo has finished uploading or that people are already commenting and losing their minds.

Nor did they notice a particular hacker with the handle- Oracle- attempting to break into his computer only to be booted out by Technus' system. It flings Oracle to the closest computer system that is close to his.

Somewhere deep underground under a particular mansion. Oracle panics, thinking that Phantom piggyback rides her signal to the cave and quickly shuts everything down. She bites her lip before picking up her personal phone and calling Bruce.

"We have a problem."

Else where Tim is helping Dick with an out-of-control gang. He isn't aware that a photo of him has just circulated through Gotham nor of the sudden new simps awaiting him.

(Lady Gotham laughs)

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Danny and The Fan Blog #Part 2 #Dead tired #anger management #Danny is unware of anything always #Also he scared Babs into thinking he knows about the cave #He's just vibing with sister #Jason is unaware the pretty red head is part of the Blog

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bimb0fy · 5 months

Text

perfect girlfriend; monkey d luffy

pairings; monkey d luffy x shank!reader

warning(s); mentions of scars, kinda suggestive at the end.

summary; luffy always had your name in his mouth, his girlfriend this! his girlfriend that! the crew never knew if you had actually existed considering the fact that your name didn't ring any bells or that well, they haven't met you yet. when luffy proposed a visit they all agreed to put an end to this little charade.

word count: 1,071 words

ᵐᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡⁱˢᵗ!! | ⁿᵃᵛⁱᵍᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ!!

— Luffy smiled as he ran over the deck, perfecting everything that looked slightly unpleasing. He hadn't seen you in months, going back to his old village meant seeing you again and he wanted it to be perfect. You both kept in touch by sending letters and after a while, ended up buying phones to reach each other faster.

Nami sat on a crate, her legs crossed as Sanji and Zoro stood beside her. Ussop was attempting to stop Luffy from falling overboard. She looked over at the two boys who rolled their eyes. "Not one bit huh?" Nami asked the two who nodded.

Sanji had faith in the beginning, believing the boy since well, he has a heart of gold, but after a while of hearing stories that sound like tales out of a naive boys mouth is well, unbelievable. Yes, it was possible for him to have a girlfriend, yet she can't be great in everything.

She can't be a fantastic with swords and a genius in the medical field, she can't be the best cook, better then Sanji Luffy might say, and have a hand for crafts. Maybe he was simply overcompensating about his love.

"Luffy, the ship looks great, I'm sure your girl will love it." Sanji smiled at the boy as both Nami and Zoro let out stiffled laughs.

"Whats so funny?" Luffy asked the group who looked at eachother. Luffy grew more concerned as he took his hat off, sliding them onto his shoulders.

"It's just that we uh." Nami started as she tried to figure out a way to frame it in a decent way.

"We don't think she exists." Zoro answered as Nami turned to the boy, her eyes wide as he shrugged. "What, it's better then lying."

"Y/n is real, why don't you guys believe me?" Luffy asked the crew who stayed quiet. He looked among them as he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "She's real, shes a pirate too, well, was a pirate."

"Yeah, and a doctor, and a cook, and a writer. She seems perfect, no one is." Zoro looked at the boy who scoffed.

"Well, she is, and look, we're here so you'll see for yourself!" Luffy said as he ran towards the front. Nami sighed as she stopped the ship, Luffy instantly jumping down, running towards a trap door. He opened it, jumping down for the group to follow him.

They were placed in an old basement, filled with materials and a section with belongings. "What is this place, it's so, rusty." Sanji said as he pinched his nose due to the horrid smell of fish guts.

"It's my home, well, was my home." Luffy smiled at the group as he walked over to his old bed, he opened a chest, taking out a satchel with his old belongings before climbing back up. "C'mon, I got my stuff, let's go meet Y/n!"

"Yeah, cause that's totally not stalling." Nami said as she climbed out, helping Zoro up as she ran after the boy who ran towards a bar.

"Luffy! My god we missed you!" The bartender smiled at the boy who hugged her. He turned back to his crew, looking around for another person.

"Hey Makino I got the broom." You said as you entered the room, you looked up to find Luffy who stood in shock. You dropped the broom as you ran towards the boy, jumping at him as he caught you, spinning you around.

You kissed his lips as he smiled, he set you down, wrapping his arms around you as he turned back to his crew who stood shocked. "Wait, she's actually real?" Zoro asked as he turned to Nami. She shrugged as he turned back to you.

"Guys, this is my very real girlfriend, Y/n." Luffy introduced you as you laughed. You waved at the group who waved back, Sanji with a huge grin plastered on his face.

"What a nice young lady you are-." Sanji's sentence was cut off by Luffy who had punched the boy, you covered your mouth before turning back to Luffy who looked serious.

"Luffy!" You yelled as he turned back to you, his expression softening.

"What?" He answered as you fliched his hat, he smiled as he held onto it, kissing your cheek before carrying you up, spinning you around one more time.

"Cmon now, I wanna show you my ship!" Luffy smiled as he held your hand, running towards the dock where the going merry happened to be. He skipped up the ramp as you looked in awe at the ship.

Luffy leaned onto the railings, smiling at the girl who stood on shock. "This is your ship? This is yours?" You asked the boy who nodded. He seemed proud of himself, you knew he had a ship but never expected a huge ship with an actual flag.

"C'mon, I'll show you my room, our room." Luffy smiled at the girl who scrunched her face in confusion. Luffy jumped down, holding your hand as he stared into your eyes. "Y/n, I want you to join my crew, we need someone like you, you know what you're doing, your perfect, your kind and smart."

"I left that life behind." You sighed as he looked away, you could tell her was upset. You hated being apart, he hated it more. Luffy was always an affectionate person, being away from his loved one hurt more then anyone could ever imagine. "I suppose you do need help to find the one piece."

Luffys face brightened up as he looked at you, smiling before carrying you up to the ship. You giggled as he set you down in the Captains quarters. The place was surrounded in pictures and souvenirs from adventures they had gone through. A desk filled with books and paper, probably stories written by him. You turned to the bed that seemed big enough for two people.

"You planned this, didn't you?" You turned to the boy who smiled, raising his eyebrows. You laughed before setting down on the bed. "I'll go get lunch ready?"

"No need, Sanji 'll do it." He smirked as he placed his hands on your waist, you smiled as you looked back at the boy, he traced your scar on your left cheek with his fingertips in such a loving way. "Now, let me show you how much I missed you my love."

#one piece live action #x reader #monkey d luffy x reader #monkey d. luffy #monkey d luffy #monkey d luffy fanfic #luffy x reader #one piece luffy #opla luffy x reader #opla monkey d luffy #one piece live action luffy

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luvt0kki · 4 months

Text

003 | on this ship

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧ s.w.m masterlist ୨୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ taglist ⋆ ˚｡⋆ ୨୧

Nothing fucks with my baby Nothing can get a look in on my baby Nothing fucks with my baby Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing

🎧 : NFWMB - Hozier

previous | 003 | next

pairings: ot8 x reader ( yungi x reader)

w.c : 7.5k ( this one’s long)

cw: mature, lots of world building in this chapter I’m sorry,minors do not interact, nsfw, mentions of assassination, hinted violence, slow burn ( for Wooyoung), polyamory, smut ahead , dom!Mingi and Yunho for this chapter, threesome, bath/shower seggs, oral, size kink, eavesdropping, Mingi’s nickname for reader is baby, masturbation, Wooyoung blue balls again, Yeosang is very sweet here, some humor ahead, San is a cutie as always, hongjoong is unreadable as ever, Wooyoung thinks he’s connected the dots but he hasnt connected sht

REMINDER : my works do not represent the irl members in any way, this is purely a work of FICTION.

a/n : thank you so much for all the support! Here is part 3! There’s uhhhh smut…but then a lot of world building and interactions between the crew that will kind of show just how close they are with y/n. It’s a bit long 😭 I’m sorry but hehe chapter 4 is already in the works! Don’t forget to fangirl and scream in my askbox about what you think of this Chapter 💕

The warm water embraced you in much-needed comfort and it took away the fatigue you felt. Your mind was still hazy and you just stared at the rippling surface, the bubbles foaming up in white pearlescent colors. The smell of sweet watermelon and coconut filled your senses and you moaned when the fingers massaging your scalp found the pressure points that made you melt forward, leaning your torso onto your thighs.

“If you keep moaning like that, I’ll get hard again.” Mingi’s deep voice echoed in the bathroom, the big man sat across you, massaging your calves under the water while Yunho’s fingers continued to shampoo your hair and massage your scalp.

“Mingi, if we go again, I won’t be able to walk for two days,” you pouted, feeling the soapy foam of the shampoo run down your back.

“And that’s a bad thing, how?” He raised a groomed brow.

You looked at him. His pink hair was a deeper shade of the color and it was pointing in different directions while also flat on his head from being wet. He still looked so handsome and his eyes were doing that thing, the thing where they were soft and round, almost childlike. “I have things to do, Mingi. I can’t be bedridden all because of your libido.”

“Baby, it would help me if we fucked more. It was torture to be away from you for so long. The videos and pictures, as much as I love them, can’t compare to the real thing.”

“And how is fucking more helping your libido?”

“It might return to baseline. Normal Mingi libido.”

He had said that with such a serious face, it was kind of cute. Okay, it was cute. Dumb but cute.

“You said ‘might’. You’re not even sure!” You splashed some water onto his face, Yunho’s fingers now massaging your lower scalp close to the pressure points of your neck. “Oh.”

“Then we have to find out!” Mingi turned his head to the side, avoiding your cute yet innocent expression from the way you moaned and relaxed from Yunho’s touch.

“I can’t believe you referred to your sex drive as Mingi libido.” Yunho chuckled from behind you and finished shampooing and rinsing your hair. “You sore, sweetheart?” He kissed the nape of your neck.

“Not as much as I thought,” you leaned your head back, perfectly fitting on Yunho’s shoulder. “But if I go another two rounds with Mingi, I might not be able to walk tomorrow. And, if I go one more time with both of you, you two are the ones who are going to have to tell Hongjoong why I refuse to go to the upper deck.”

Yunho wrapped his arms around and kissed your temple.

Mingi relaxed and smiled softly at the sight. You were back home, where you belong. Where you were safest. Nothing and no one could hurt you here, and if anyone ever tried ( not that anyone could), they wouldn’t leave alive.

Yunho pressed his lips close to your ear to whisper. “So…we can go again?”

“Oh my god.”

“You did say you can go one more time with me and Yunho,” Mingi smirked, scooting closer.

It’s actually amazing how two of the tallest of your lovers could fit in the tub with you. Sure the bathtub was big but to fit the three of you? Jongho wouldn’t believe it if you told him.

“But we’ll have to bathe again…” you huffed, Yunho leaving hot kisses along your neck, sucking and nibbling at your sensitive spot. It was hard to say no. “Your bed will get really wet if we go back right now.” You whined, Yunho’s pretty slender fingers cupping your breasts and pinching at your nipples.

“We don’t have to go back to my room.” Mingi settled himself between your legs, hooking your right leg over his shoulder and kissing your inner thigh. “We can fuck here.”

“I thought we finally crossed off shower sex on your bucket list?” You threaded your fingers through Yunho’s hair as he continued to kiss and fondle you.

“Trust me, baby, I know,” Mingi replied, reaching for the nozzle to drain the tub.

“It’s on my bucket list.” Yunho nipped at your ear. “Mingi, put her other leg over the edge of the tub.”

Mingi does as he says and he bit his lip at the sight of your pussy again. His cock twitched when Yunho’s right hand left your breast to slide down to massage your clit.

“Yunho…” you sighed, hips twitching at the feeling, not sure if you were moving away from his touch or if you wanted more.

The lower the water got, the more you could see of Mingi. The bubbles and foam stuck to your skin and when the cool air began to hit your skin that had been submerged in warm water, you shivered.

“We’ll be gentle,” Yunho told you, biting your neck. “But usually you’ll always beg for us to go harder.” He teased, dipping two fingers into your entrance, not plunging further which made you whine as he spread your slick all over your folds.

“And I thought you were being so sweet shampooing my hair and all. You’re just as mean.” You bit back, your resolve crumbling when he finally slipped his fingers into your sore yet welcoming, velvety walls. “F-fuck. Okay.”

“Okay, what?” Mingi watched Yunho’s fingers slip in and out of your heat.

“We go another round but please let’s go to my room. The bathtub isn’t really the most comfortable place for the three of us.” You said through gritted teeth, squeezing Yunho’s thighs as he curled his fingers inside you. “And last time we fucked here, Mingi, you slipped and bruised your elbow.”

“Baby, that’s between us.” He groaned, keeping your legs from closing watching your cunt suck Yunho’s fingers in and soak them in your slick.

“I had a feeling it wasn’t because you elbowed someone.” Yunho tutted before focusing on the movements of his fingers, humming when he felt your walls squeeze him. “Even after taking Mingi and I, you’re still so tight.”

“Yuyu…” you whimpered the nickname you endearingly called him, tugging at his hair as you bucked your hips into his palm.

“Always so wet and ready for us, aren’t you?” He curled his fingers faster, his long digits reaching you deeper than your fingers could ever do. His palm made contact with your clit as he moved which made your nails dig into his thighs.

“She’s our pretty girl.” Mingi cooed, scooting closer and keeping your legs apart then lifted you a little so you were on his lap and squeezed between him and Yunho without disrupting his best friend’s actions. “Fuck, do you hear how wet you are?”

You could but you didn’t have time to be embarrassed about it when Mingi took one of your breasts into his hot mouth, swirling his tongue around your sensitive peak and sucking which earned him a very cute squeak from you.

“Yeah…we’re not going to make it to the bedroom, sweetheart,” Yunho growled in your ear, not slowing down the pumping of his fingers and knowing that you were gonna cum soon. They knew your body well and they pride themselves in being lovers that never disappointed you. “Once, I make you cum. Mingi’s gonna clean up the sweet mess you made…” His lower register made you squeeze around his fingers again, knowing full well the effect that tone had on you. “Then I’m gonna fuck your perfect cunt.”

You felt your lower abs tighten and your legs began to tense, shaking around Mingi’s torso who suckled and massaged your breasts. Your legs wanted to close so badly as your orgasm was approaching fast and it didn’t help that Yunho was whispering filthy things in your ear in that stupid perfect deep register of his.

“Yunho…please.” You didn’t even know what you were begging for. “Please.”

“This time, sweetheart…,” He paused a beat to kiss the spot beneath your ear before continuing. “I won’t cum on your pretty tits. I’ll fill you up nice and good like Mingi did.”

The idea had you cumming hard, your lips parting in a silent scream as your walls spasmed around his fingers.

“Good girl.” He cooed, kissing your temple as your body shook from the pleasure, slowing down his fingers and taking them out of your pulsing heat, only to to bring his digits to his mouth to have a taste of your sweet essence.

Without another word, Mingi halted his attack on your breasts and Yunho hooked his hands beneath your knees to open you up for the pink-haired man. He dipped low and you cried out when he started to kitten lick your sensitive pussy.

“Mingi! Too much! W-wait, please.” You whimpered, trying to fight against Yunho’s hold who kept your legs wide open so Mingi could lap up your juices.

“Tastes so good, baby.” He moaned against your core, the obscene slurping making heat explode in your cheeks. He was licking you up with that stupidly heavenly tongue of his like a man starved.

Mingi kissed your clit before wrapping his plump lips around the sensitive bud and making you squirm.

“Hear that? Mingi said you taste so good.” Yunho unlike Mingi right now, who was drunk on your pussy, was gentle and sweet again.The two of them balanced each other out in ways you could never really explain.

Knowing he won’t ever get enough of you, Mingi lapped your juices up one last time before sitting up and adoring the way you looked so fucked out. Yunho hadn’t even stuffed you with his cock yet and you were this buzzed out already.

“Here, baby.”

“Huh?” You blinked at him and before you could react, his lips were on yours and your surprised gasp let him slip his tongue inside.

“Mmhf.” Your head was spinning. The salty yet sweet taste of yourself on his tongue was sinfully erotic and his eagerness to kiss you made you kiss him back. Mingi sucked on your bottom lip before parting from you, his forehead resting on yours as you two caught your breaths.

“So?” Yunho slowly let your legs down, letting in fall limp around Mingi’s body. “How do you taste?”

“G-good.” You panted, releasing your death grip on Yunho’s thighs, the way your nails dug into them left crescent marks on his skin.

“Awe, is our pretty girl tired? Too tired to take my cock?”

“N-no.” Your body felt light and heavy at the same time but even after cumming around his fingers and Mingi overstimulating you. Your walls craved for more. It needed more than just his fingers. “Want you. Please.”

With Yunho, you never ever had to ask twice.

And…he was right earlier. The three of you couldn’t make it to the bedroom. So here you all were, way past the midnight hour with you sandwiched between the two men, their hips moving in tandem with one another as they stuffed you full. Your arms hung loosely over Yunho’s shoulders as Mingi’s big strong arms hoisted you up. Yunho was rutting up into your leaking cunt, his lengthy cock hitting your g-spot easily while Mingi fucked your other tight hole, the gunner praising you for taking his fat cock after he had prepped you for him.

There was nothing coherent in your head. All you could think about was how their cocks were rubbing your insides and how good they felt inside of you. It was so much.

“S-so full.” You moaned, head falling back onto Mingi’s shoulder as they bounced you on their cocks, the wet smacking sounds echoing in the shared shower room.

“You’re taking us so well, sweetheart.” Yunho praised, groaning when your walls began to grip him tighter and feeling Mingi’s thick cock fill you up on the other end. “I’m close. Fuck.”

“Y-yeah. Me too.” Mingi whined from behind you, his strong hips smacking against your ass. “Let Yunho fill you up, baby. I want you so full of his cum you’re leaking for days.”

Mingi’s words turned Yunho on even more, making him chase his release, his hips digging deeper into you.

“P-please, please, please.” That’s all you could say as your body buzzed and craved for them as if you could never be satiated. You felt like you were going insane with how good they felt inside of you.

Their thrusts in perfect rhythm with each other and how perfectly shaped Yunho’s cock was to hit your g-spot effortlessly, had you coming undone so easily. You came hard, mind going completely blank as your orgasm crashed over you. Every fiber of your being was electrified and when you came to it, you could feel that soothing familiar warmth filling your belly.

The two men panted as they finished inside your body that welcomed them. Months of pent-up sexual frustration finally being satiated and emptied inside of you.

“I missed you, sweetheart.” Yunho sighed into your neck, completely emptying every last drop of his release into you, marking you in his own way. “We all did. I’m sorry I couldn’t help myself.”

“I-it’s okay.” You murmured, limp in Mingi’s and Yunho’s hold. “Don’t be sorry. I’m sorry for leaving you all for so long.”

You winced when Mingi slowly slipped his cock from your ass, his cum leaking out your abused hole and when Yunho did the same, a mess of white fell onto the bathroom floor but Yunho was quick to carry you bridal style before your limbs could touch the floor.

“You two…I swear…” you murmured, letting the two take care of you just like clockwork. Like all the times before.

They were gentle as they cleaned you up, this time under the rain of water from one of the shower stalls. Mingi helped wrap you into a fuzzy soft grey towel before Yunho handed you over to him so he could dry himself before they retreated to your bedroom since Mingi’s bed was sheetless after the mess the three of you made.

“So…” Yunho was the first to speak when you three were snuggled under the comforter of your bed, the two of them on either side of you to keep you warm. “Is it back to baseline?”

You frowned, blinking sleepily at his handsome face while Mingi cuddled you from behind.

“Yeah…normal Mingi libido.”

Not having the energy to retort, you only shook your head and smiled. You were tired but you were happy and safe in their arms. Yunho’s hand on your hip lazily caressed you while Mingi had his arm draped over your waist and he pressed his naked torso on your back, preferring your body warmth over anything else to keep him warm and fall asleep to.

“Hongjoong is going to kill us,” Mingi muttered, his own eyes unable to remain open any longer.

“Kill us? No.” Yunho yawned, noticing how you had fallen asleep already with such a peaceful look on your pretty face. “But he’ll definitely give us an earful…or a sex ban.”

The docks at the outskirts of Xileon were quiet as dawn began to break. It was almost unbelievable that the planet with its infamous capital called the Night City actually experienced daylight. The parties have to end somehow and they go back to their day lives only to repeat and indulge in what they could only do in the dark, and in Night City, no night was ever the same.

And yet as the sun rose and began to light up the black sky, hints of dark navy and light blue faded in as the morning came and Wooyoung admired the view from the window of the dining kitchen area of the mid-deck. The scent of coffee that he had begun to brew right after he woke wafted through the air. It’s been a while since he’s seen a morning sky.

Xileon’s sky could not compare to Jupiter’s. It was prettier and glowed with the aurora that floated in the dark starry sky every night.

“You’re up early.” Seonghwa entered the kitchen, and his black silk robe that matched his loungewear flowed elegantly with his movements.

“Well, someone’s got to cook for you all.” Wooyoung shrugged moving from the dining area with the big window that looked out the sky to the kitchen. “I’m never letting Yunho in my kitchen again.”

“He made a delicious dinner that time.” Seonghwa chuckled, defending the tall mechanic and medic of their crew.

“But the mess he left?” Wooyoung shook his head, opening the fridge and grabbing the ingredients he might need to start breakfast. “It’s like a hurricane destroyed the place. Anyways, what does Y/N like to have for breakfast?”

Seonghwa paused pouring himself a cup of coffee momentarily, not expecting that question from Wooyoung this morning. His lips curved into a small pleased smile.

“She likes sweet things. French toast with berries if we have them or pancakes. She’s not a picky eater but those are just some of her favorites.”

Wooyoung bit his lip as he went through the cupboards and the pantry.

“So what are we having for breakfast?” Seonghwa asked, taking his seat at the dining table by the window, appreciating the view.

Tossing the bag of flour onto the kitchen counter, Wooyoung grabbed a bowl from the cupboards before going to the fridge and deciding that the frozen berries would make do.

“Pancakes.”

Seonghwa smiled at his response, not needing to say anything more and letting the former heir of a duke to his work while he sipped his coffee and enjoyed the calm morning and the view of the rising sun.

“I smell coffee.” The cheery voice announced the very familiar sunshine like presence.

“Just pour yourself a cup and don’t touch anything.” Wooyoung narrowed his eyes in jest at Yunho who walked in with a bounce in his step.

“Hey, I made a mess one time.”

“And it will be the last time.”

Yunho only smiled and got himself coffee before joining Seonghwa at the unset table. Wooyoung focused on cooking and as the sun rose higher and higher, the members were arriving in the dining area one by one.

Jongho entered with Hongjoong, the two talking about something in the magazine their youngest was holding. Probably another thing Jongho added to his wishlist for upgrades to the ship.

Yeosang helped set the table before joining the lighthearted conversation with the others.

Mingi was the last to enter groaning about how bright the sunlight was as he was slipping a black shirt over his torso.

“Y/N?” San asked, quietly taking note of the reddish love bites on Mingi’s neck and before the gunner’s shirt covered his body, they all got a glimpse of the long pink lines on his back.

“I didn’t want to wake her so I’ll get her breakfast and go back.” He went to the fridge and gulped down some milk from the carton.

“Use a glass, you heathen.” Wooyoung clicked his tongue and focused on serving up the pancakes on a big plate.

“Oh, you made pancakes. Nice timing. She loves those.” Mingi’s eyes stared at the fresh from the pan confectionary and took his and your plates to get a serving for you both. “Where’s the tray?” He rummaged through the kitchen, a vein popping on Wooyoung’s forehead at the clang and clatter of items in HIS kitchen.

“Get her some orange juice for the vitamin C,” Yunho told Mingi, opening the Xileon newspaper.

“Got it.” Mingi did as he said, getting a glass and pouring the orange juice in it.

Wooyoung was glad he and the pink haired man were not making eye contact, and that there was no weird vibe from Mingi’s end. He must admit, Mingi was a caring boyfriend if he was going out of his way to bring you breakfast in bed. Breakfast that he made.

“We’ll be departing Xileon by noon so if any of you need to get things, get it done before then,” Hongjoong informed the crew. “And get back to Yeosang so he can take note of the expenses.”

Mingi was focused as he crossed the dining area with the tray in his hands, steadying his hands.

“Relay the info to Y/N,” Hongjoong added.

“Mhm.” Mingi hummed in response.

“Oh, and Mingi…”

“Yeah?”

Hongjoong without looking at Mingi and opening the book he has been reading the past month, and sounding like a father scolding his son, spoke.

“Make sure to close the door next time.”

Mingi groaned as the rest of the crew cackled and laughed at his embarrassment, and he quickly vacated the room. He wasn’t going to let their teasing ruin his very good morning.

Wooyoung sat with the rest once the big plate of pancakes for everyone with the side of maple syrup and frozen berries were on the table, ready to be eaten. He sat in front of Yunho who had his ever-present soft puppy smile on his face, which was very deceiving.

“I finished up the repairs on Mingi’s gun last night by the way,” Yunho told him, dousing the pancakes on his plate with a lot of maple syrup. “It still is a mystery to me how whatever weapons he borrows or uses come back broken or in need of repairs.”

“He’s a big guy and a clumsy person,” Yeosang commented.

“But he never misses his shots though.” San added.

Wooyoung tuned them out as he thought about how so far, everything was okay. It wasn’t as bad as he thought it was going to be when he saw Mingi and maybe if he avoided you, his infatuation will fade away. It won’t be forever but just until he doesn’t think about burying his face in your pussy or having you bounce on his cock—

“You okay?” Yeosang asked when they doing the dishes together in the kitchen, the rest of the crew going off to do their individual schedules.

“Um, why wouldn’t I be?” Woo replied, washing and soaping the dishes while Yeosang rinsed and dried them.

“Should I point out the obvious?”

Yeosang was met with silence and he decided to go on.

“You’re kind of snappy but not too snappy. You’re nice enough because you just made pancakes out of the blue when I was sure you were going to make the usual eggs and bacon.” He was speaking his facts fast, something he got from Wooyoung who did the same when he wanted to prove his point. “Someone probably told you that Y/N likes sweet things which I’m guessing was Seonghwa since after you, he’s the second to wake up early among us. You made the pancakes for—“

“Ah! Okay, stop! I should’ve never taken you under my wing. It’s biting me back in the ass.” He scrubbed the plates with the sponge harder. “What’s your point anyways?”

Yeosang observed his best friend. His ears were slightly red although he had an annoyed pout on his face. He wondered how safe he needed to play it …

“You’re trying to impress her.”

“I made her one of her favorite dishes. I do that for you guys from time to time too…” Wooyoung trailed off, trying to stop himself from confiding with his childhood best friend. Which was hard. Back then, they told each other everything and when they reunited, it’s like nothing changed. “Maybe…I am trying to impress her. She is a member of our crew, is she not? I’m new.”

He opened up to Yeosang who smiled triumphantly to himself.

“Plus, I didn’t really make a good impression on her…when I danced with her, we got really…uh yeah…and when I didn’t know you guys knew her, I was whipping out bill after bill in that room.” Then the image of you tugging that purple lace panties to the side flashed before his eyes again.

“So you feel bad for playing into Y/N’s stripper cover? We played along because we couldn’t compromise her and risk putting her in danger. You’re not at any fault, Woo.“

He did have a point but speaking of faults, Wooyoung did have one and he didn’t want Yeosang to know that he saw you and Mingi then proceeded to jack off in his room to the sound of you both.

“I guess.”

“And if you’re a little attracted to her it’s fine,” Yeosang added which made his friend’s eyes widen.

“W-what?”

“We all are. She’s an attractive woman and when you get to know her, you’ll see that she’s lovely and sweet. She cares for all of us and she will care for you too, if you’ll let her.”

Yeosang hoped that that was enough to hint at the relationship they all had with you and that Wooyoung’s brain could put two and two together.

“Can I ask you something about her?” Wooyoung asked, handing Yeosang the last rinsed dish.

“Shoot.”

“San…” Wooyoung began, unsure of how to tread the subject. He wasn’t sure if he was analyzing it too much and what he assumed could be completely wrong. “San and Y/N knew each other before she joined the crew—

“If you want to ask about their past, I think it’s better you ask her or Sannie…or both. It’s their story to tell not mine.” Yeosang cut him off with a gentle smile, something that was natural to him despite having been a Prince.

“I was meaning to ask San about that but what I’m asking you is different.” He wiped his hands on his navy apron before taking it off and folding it neatly.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I just couldn’t help but notice the way San looks at her.” Actually all of them but it was San or the Captain’s gaze towards you that really stood out to him.

“Like she’s the universe?” Yeosang tilted his head to the side.

“Like…he’s in love with her.”

Yeosang thought of how to respond to that and his pause did not go unnoticed by Wooyoung so when his best friend finally reacted to what he said, he knew that his little speculation hit a spot.

“Ah…” Yeosang trailed off awkwardly, his eyes shifting away and anywhere from him.

He knew what that meant. Yeosang was never good at hiding secrets or denying things because after knowing him since they were children, he knew that little action his eyes did when he was meant to hide something.

“So he is in love with her?” Wooyoung pressed as they headed to the lounge together.

“They’re very close friends.” Yeosang rubbed the back of his neck. It really wasn’t his place to tell.

But his evading of questions only caused Wooyoung to create conspiracy theories that were far yet close to the truth.

“Oh, hey, guys!”

Speak of the devil.

San with his dark cropped hair and oversized black fluffy sweater jogged towards them. “You guys wanna come with me when I head out? I just came back from Y/N’s room and she asked me to get some stuff for her.”

“Uh…” Yeosang wasn’t sure if that was a good day but then he felt Wooyoung’s hands on his shoulders.

“Sure! The more the merrier right?” Wooyoung grinned at the former assassin.

But even though they did head out and got what each of them needed, Wooyoung did not get the answers he expected to get from San. He got nothing. Nada. Zilch. It didn’t help that Yeosang just smiled at him whenever he questioned San’s behavior which was cheerful. He had a swing in his step as they shopped and when he saw something, be it candy or apparel and accessories you might like, he’d turn to Yeosang and say ‘This would be pretty on Y/N’ or ‘Y/N likes this color’.

So as days passed and they safely departed Xileon, Wooyoung concluded that San was in love with you and that he didn’t act on it and disguised his love with the long friendship you guys had as merely platonic.

Wooyoung patted himself on the back for connecting the dots.

Every longing stare he gave you made him pity San. Even though you smiled back at him with such warmth, Wooyoung concluded with such surety that his one-sided love must hurt him deeply but he settled for being on the sidelines. To love you from afar while Mingi loved you and made you smile.

Yeah. Wooyoung was 100 percent sure this was the tension he was feeling from both of you. Now, next on his suspect list was Hongjoong.

“So pieces of the Cromer have been scattered across the galaxy, I’ve managed to find one but the others may have already fallen in the hands of other travelers or the Black Market,” you spoke from where you stood next to Yunho, tapping on the hologram of information and images you uploaded to the Destiny’s server. You swiped away the bracket of Jupiter, canceling it out from where the other pieces could be. “Luckily, I found three of the four possible locations.”

“Three?” Seonghwa’s jaw dropped a little, the shock in his eyes hardening to concern. It was too good to be true…and what did you go through to get all this info?

“That’s my girl.” Hongjoong grinned, the information you were briefing them with made him swell with pride.

Wooyoung glanced at Mingi for his reaction when the Captain called you his…but the gunner was completely focused on your presentation.

“It’s kinda scary how you were able to get all this.” Jongho shook his head quickly, taken aback by your ability to gather information that would’ve taken them years to find.

“Find the right lead and it’ll lead you to more.” You responded with a small smile.

“No hope for the fourth location?” Hongjoong urged you to continue.

“That’s what’s tricky…since the entire civilization of that location is artificial and they don’t orbit a system…”

“Don’t tell me—,” Jongho’s cute round eyes widened further.

“It’s in KWANGYA, most likely N-City.” You enlarged the holographic image of the artificial never stagnant artificial planet. “It’s hard to pinpoint where they might be right now in the galaxy…So I think it’s best we focus on the other locations.”

They were left speechless. This was crucial information to their Captain but while they were shocked and processing what you gathered, Hongjoong’s grin never left his face. It was rather unsettling that expression of his.

“Ondion, Gevora and…Sector 1.” You listed them down and Yeosang moved from where he stood to stand next to you so that he could toggle the map and begin calculations to the next destination.

“What would it be doing in Sector 1?” San frowned deeply.

“I don’t know…but I’m not looking forward to going there.” You fiddled with your fingers behind you, hiding the extent of your distaste for the planet.

“You won’t have to come off the ship when we get there’,” Hongjoong interjected. “I know it may be hard for you but you can stay here with San while the rest of us look for the missing piece:”

“N-no I’ll be fine. Do you really think I’ll let you all on that planet without me? It’s dangerous. There’s a reason it doesn’t have a proper name.”

“What’s Sector 1?” Wooyoung asked. He’s never ever heard of that place but it clearly hit a nerve with you.

“One of the layers of hell.” You uttered with such venom, your eyes void of the warmth and gentleness they had when you looked at any of them.

“We’ll be going to Gevora first,” Yeosang’s voice brought you out of that dark growing cloud before it churned into a hurricane. The former Prince discreetly without alarming anyone stepped closer to you. His gentle fingers brushed over your knuckles. Your hands had clutched into fists behind your back with nails digging into your palms. “I’ll set the coordinates by your command, Captain.” He slipped his hand in yours and all Wooyoung could see was how that empty and dark look in your eyes disappeared.

“You may do so, Yeo.” He raised his hand to gesture his permission.

Hongjoong got up from where he had been sitting and glanced at you. “We’ll be heading to Gevora. Since our hyperdrive is still currently being fixed, the journey will take approximately…” he looked at Yeosang who had a neutral expression.

“A month.” The crew's navigator replied to their Captain.

“Make any needed preparations for then. Rest up and when we’re close, we’ll have another meeting before we land.”

Hongjoong left the bridge and disappeared into his office. San who was next to Wooyoung made movement to go to you, only for Mingi to reach you first.

“You okay, baby?” He kissed your temple.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine.” With Yeosang’s comforting touch and Mingi’s concern, it was hard to entertain any horrible thought about Sector 1. “I just really hate that place.”

San remained by Wooyoung’s side.

“As much as I’d love to stay here and coddle our pretty princess,” Jongho went up to you and embraced you briefly. “I have to fix the hyperdrive system.”

“Awe, don’t work too hard, Jongho. I’ll come see you to make sure you take a break.” You told the mechanic. “Anyways, don’t worry too much about me. I’m going to go to my room and start up on that book Hwa gave me.”

Mingi followed right after you as everyone dispersed, off to do their own agendas.

“You okay?” Wooyoung asked San on their way to the gym.

“That’s out of the blue. Yeah, I’m okay.” He smiled softly. “Was just worried about Y/N. That’s all.”

“Sector 1 seemed to be a touchy topic.”

“Well because it is,” San confirmed and Wooyoung was suddenly in full alert. “It’s where we were trained.”

From what San had opened up to him about his past, Wooyoung felt his stomach drop. “You sure you’re okay?”

San smiled warmly at him. “Why wouldn’t I be? In fact, I’m really happy. Y/N’s back where she belongs. Safe with us. I couldn’t ask for more.”

Wooyoung bit his tongue and fought the urge to say ‘You sure about that?’. Successfully he did so.

“Anyways for today’s, sparring session, I’m going to train you to improve your hand-to-hand combat.” San changed the subject quickly. “You’re good with a sword and not too bad with a gun but your unarmed combat needs improvement.”

“Ugh…you’re going to count how many times I fall on my ass again, aren’t you?” Wooyoung groaned.

“Of course I am.” San chuckled, his eyes smiling with mischief. “If you think hand-to-hand combat with me is difficult, try Y/N. Before you can even pull a punch, you’ll be kissing the ground.”

“What are you doing up?” Your voice broke the silence in the dark kitchen, the only light coming from the open refrigerator.

Wooyoung swore in his head as he felt his heart race.

“I- I could ask you the same.” He took a deep breath before turning around, feeling his throat dry at the sight of your bare legs. You were wearing a black thin sweater that was far too big on you and he definitely was sure that he saw San wear it…Do you borrow their clothing as a comfort thing? Would you want any of his? He needed to do laundry.

He averted his eyes immediately…his throat drying up as he felt guilt shiver up his spine after what he had done again tonight. After what you and Mingi did again.

“Water…and maybe a midnight snack.” You replied, walking over to the fridge, bare feet on the cold floor as you stood next to Wooyoung. “You?”

“Midnight snack.”

“Ooo, so what does Jung Wooyoung have for a midnight snack?” Your tone was friendly and inviting, hoping that it’d calm whatever reason it was that made Wooyoung seemed nervous.

“Well, I made a batch of strawberries dipped in chocolate when we left Xileon. It’s probably set by now.” He opened the chiller to see the tray of dessert he made, feeling proud to see how pretty the dusted pink sugar glitter settled with the chocolate.

He took the tray out and set it on the kitchen counter, your eyes on the pretty strawberries lined up in organized rows.

“Here have one,” he pinched the leaf part and held it your way for you to take.

Not thinking much of it, you took a couple of steps forward and took a bite, unaware of how your lips brushing his fingertips made Wooyoung gulp.

“Mhm.” You closed your eyes, moaning at the sweet burst of the strawberry with chocolate in your mouth. For you, it may have been a brief moment but for Wooyoung, it was as if time slowed down and your lips wrapped around the lucky strawberry made him think of how pretty your lips would be wrapped around his—

“Oh my god, that’s delicious.” You squeaked happily, doing this little cute shimmy at how much you liked the dessert he made.

“U-Uh yeah. Thanks.” He swallowed the lump in his throat and played it cool.

“So how does a former noble know how to make such treats?” You wondered out loud, flashing him a smile that made his heart flutter. “Let alone cook. Yeosang told me you’re the one making the meals around here now.” You picked up another piece of strawberry. “I really loved the pancakes on my first day back, by the way.”

“Oh, I’m glad you loved them. And to answer your question, I hung around the kitchens a lot as a kid.”

“And your father let you do that?” You tilted your head, leaning against the counter.

“No, I did what any good kid being told not to do something do.” He picked up a strawberry and took a bite, missing the way your eyes flashed to lips and watched his Adam’s apple bob as he ate. “I didn’t listen.”

There was a beat of silence as you admired his handsome features. He was really handsome. Was being handsome part of the requirements of being in this crew or something?

“I heard you trained with Sannie today,” you looked him up and down, noticing the light bruise on his arm. Your brows knitted as your lips pursed at the sight and reached out to brush your fingers on the skin lightly. “You’re not that badly bruised. Which means you must be better than the average trained fighter.”

Wooyoung felt a rush of electricity wash over him with your light touch and your movement made the wide boat neckline of the sweater slip your left shoulder, showcasing the dark ruby marks along your neck and collarbone.

They were fresh…

“I heard you’re quite the master combatant.” He couldn’t help but take note that you’re braless. There was no sign of a strap on your delicate shoulders.

“I wouldn’t say master,” you hopped onto the counter, the edge of the sweater rising higher over your pretty thighs. “Did Sannie say that I was?”

“He hinted it.”

“Awe, how sweet of him.” You giggled, taking another piece of strawberry and holding it out to him. “Don’t make me eat by myself.”

Wooyoung matched your playful smile and went to pick up the strawberry but you pulled it back and away from him. There was a glint in your eye and in his view, you were glowing. The same magnetic feeling he felt when he saw you in the club returned and he inched closer to you til his hands rested on the countertop on either side of you. He could get a whiff of your natural sweet scent that had a hint of masculine musk which made sense since you and Mingi go at it like fucking bunnies and he heard you two every time. Turns out the room across his was yours. When he made that discovery he didn’t know if he was happy about it or hated it.

Now that he was closer, your legs parted to make room for him. One more step and he was in between them.

He kept his gaze locked on your face, trying to read your next move as well as trying to take in every detail of your features. He was so lost in the moment, he forgot the fact you were with Mingi. Was it so bad that he wanted you too?

You brought the strawberry to his lips, brushing the chocolate-dipped tip on them, tracing their plump curve. He looked into your eyes for permission, not sure why he did so. But your delighted nod at the gesture made him forget about that thought as his pretty lips parted and he took a bite.

“Good boy.” You purred, the same way you did when you two were grinding your hips on one another the night you two danced.

The way the praise fell from your lips sent heat straight to his cock and when he took his bite and met your eyes again, there was this thinning string inside of him that was ready to snap. Taking away the stem and leaving the strawberry in his mouth, he swallowed as he watched you toss the stem into the bin and as if his predicament couldn’t get worse, you licked the excess strawberry juice and melted chocolate off your fingers.

Wooyoung swore and cursed silently, feeling his cock twitch at the sight. He already jacked off in his room…and yet he was getting turned on by this simple interaction. Well, it wasn’t simple. In fact, it was rather intimate. What was going on? Were you flirting with him?

“So-,” he cleared his throat, breaking away from your gaze, and looked down, only to be met with the sight of naked soft, pillowy thighs and the hem of the flimsy sweater just a couple of inches away from showing him what he had been thinking about since he’s seen it in the private dance room. “You and Mingi?”

“What about me and Mingi?” You tilted your head, trying to meet his gaze again because you thought his eyes were pretty. Where was the arrogant man you had danced with?

“How long have you been together?”

“Almost two years.” You hopped off the counter and went to grab a small bowl, deciding to get some for San who was waiting in your bedroom… long enough.

“That’s a long time.”

You chuckled, moving over to the fridge and completely aware of Wooyoung’s eyes on you. Why was he being so jumpy around you? Or reserved? This really wasn’t the flirt you danced with and you had thought bringing him closer with your little playful strawberry trick would tease that out of him.

Smirking to yourself as you opened the fridge door, you bent over and pretended to look through the drinks selection. Wooyoung sucked in a breath as he saw the hem of the sweater rise dangerously high and he almost thought you weren’t wearing underwear til he saw black lace hugging your plump ass and covering your mound. It would be so easily to slip the flimsy fabric aside to see what he missed.

“Well, anyways, I should be heading back.” You grabbed a bottle of water and stood up straight, closing the fridge door. “It was nice talking to you, Woo.” You smiled at him, getting close to him on your way out. “Thank you for the strawberries.” Knowing exactly what you were doing, you leaned close to give him a small peck on the cheek before saying goodnight and heading back to your room.

Wooyoung watched you leave, heart racing and mind all jumbled up with thoughts of you, with what happened. When he saw you bent over like that, he immediately thought of how pretty you’d look bent over the island counter as he eats your pussy out.

Snapping out of it, he goes to put away the tray of strawberries but hisses when he felt the fabric of his sweats shuffle against his groin. Wooyoung groaned as he glanced down. He was bulging against his briefs.

On his way back to his room, he contemplated on fucking his fist again or letting his hard-on die down on its own. He stopped by your door and listened for any sounds of you and Mingi. A couple of seconds passed and he heard nothing. Okay, so maybe he won’t jack off…but the image of your ass in those black lace panties was so fresh that maybe another round won’t hurt.

“Dude, what are you doing?” Jongho’s voice made him jump away from your door, the youngest just turned the hall and saw him just standing there.

“Oh, I was just heading to bed.”

Jongho narrowed his eyes at Wooyoung. “Okay…weird. I’m too tired to question you right now. So just…okay. Goodnight.” The mechanic yawned, trudging towards his bedroom. He didn’t want to say much so that Wooyoung’s current assumptions would change, he didn’t want to lose his bet with San, Seonghwa, and Hongjoong.

He wondered just how long Wooyoung would agonise over his infatuation with you and how long it’d take for him to find out the relationship you had with all of them.

Oh, and most excitingly, how and what would happen when he breaks?

-- feel free to scream in my askbox about the fic I will gladly famgor; with you <3

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